Fic. Bedtime
Title: Bedtime
Author:alicebluegown16
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Characters: Will/Finn, OFC (Melody)
Summary: Shhh. Don't wake up the baby.
AN: Part of my series. Not a parent. No idea how accurate this is.
It takes some trial and error, but eventually they get this whole baby thing down and have a pretty good system going.
Finn is the absolute king when it comes to feeding, since he is one of the few people who actually manages to get formula into Melody’s stomach as opposed to all over her front or dribbling down her chin when she fidgets and fusses. He’s also unbelievably blasé about being spit up on, and he practically has to just look at her and she’s belching loud enough to shake the rafters. Except for Will’s fears that he’s not kidding when he talks about teaching Melody to burp the alphabet when she’s older, it’s ideal.
Bath time is both of them because it takes four hands to hold her down, slippery and wiggling so much that he and Finn usually end up looking like drowned rats, soaked and sputtering. To say nothing of the way she shrieks bloody murder the second they attempt to wash her hair. When Kurt hears of this, he bestows yet another nickname on Melody-Elphaba. Which Will does not find at all amusing considering he half worries the neighbors suspect he and Finn are beating their child.
Diaper changes-obviously neither one of them enjoys it which is a shame as she fills them at a spectacularly alarming rate and Will truly has no idea how his beautiful, sweet (most of the time) baby girl is capable of producing smells horrific enough to peel paint. But change her they must and change her they do, the responsibility determined using an elaborate barter system involving backrubs, blowjobs, and trading off on whose turn it is to get up in the middle of the night. And occasionally when necessary (for the truly horrific, dear god, that’s a green not found in nature times), a game of rock, paper, scissors.
Bedtime is always Will’s. It started as an accident. Melody screaming and crying, just out and out howling in utter misery and Will had been so exhausted he’d wanted to cry too. Nothing had worked, not lullabies, not rocking, not begging, not pleading, not promises to buy her a pony if only please, please, please, Melly, please just go to sleep. In desperation he’d picked up one of Cassie’s notebooks and started reading. And maybe it’s coincidence or maybe she’d just tired herself out, but gradually, she’d stopped screaming, her tears tapering off to the occasional whimper and sniffle until she hadn’t been crying at all. Staring up at him with wide bright eyes as if to say “And then what happened?”
It becomes the strangest sort of bedtime story, Cassie’s scribbles and then later her letters, and Will’s memories. Sometimes it takes forever; his voice will be starting to get hoarse before Melody’s eyes gradually drift shut. Sometimes he laughs out loud at a certain turn of phrase, hearing Cassie’s voice in his head shaping the words. Sometimes it’s painful reading how much she’d kept to herself, how unsure she’d been of her place in their home and Will worries that they did her more harm than good, that they could have said or done more to let her know how much they loved her, how much she was a part of their family. Sometimes Finn stands in the doorway and listens.
And always when Melody’s finally, finally asleep, face cuddled up against her stuffed rabbit, thumb in her mouth, her little chest rising and falling with each breath, Will falls in love all over again.
**
“She’s finally down for the count.” It’s late, and Will thinks he actually hears his jaw creak when he yawns, and oh, why does their girl do this, just when he finally thinks she’s mostly accepted the fact that this whole bedtime thing is actually going to be an every night occurrence and she might as well get used to it, they have times like this.
“How is it that-and she-God-“ Will waves his hand vaguely which clearly means “It is totally unfair that just when I’m ready to say forget this whole parenting thing and let's run off to Tahiti together, she makes that little snuffling noise and wrinkles up her nose and I melt like a marshmallow in the microwave.”
Then because he’s cool like that, Will trips over one of Finn’s boat sized sneakers and goes down with all of the grace of an elephant on roller-skates, which is to say none at all.
And Finn does not ask if he’s okay or offer up any apology, instead he laughs, loud and long and hard enough to shake the bed and did Will mention loud, because loud seems to be the prevalent adjective and what the ever loving hell, if he does not shut up, if he wakes up Melody because of his couldn’t be bothered to put his god dammed shoes away idiocy, Will is going to smother him with the pillow and no jury in the world would convict him.
“Shut up, shut up, shut up, for the fucking love of god!” Frantic desperate whisper and because he’s running on maybe eight hours of sleep for the past three days, it makes absolute perfect sense for him climb on top of Finn, knees on either side of his hips, and clamps his hand tight over Finn’s mouth.
Instead of shoving him off, Finn moans low and deep, the vibrations traveling up Will’s arm and he’d swear he feels it in his own chest, Finn arching up, vice grip on Will’s hips, practically rutting against him where Will’s thigh meets groin.
Briefest momentary thought of, ‘Are you fucking kidding me? We could be sleeping.’ becomes ‘Oh, fuck yes, please.’ as soon as Finn palms the front of his boxers and really, sometimes Will thinks Finn’s ability after all these years to still send him from ‘zero’ to ‘take me right now’ in less than .5 seconds is something that needs to be isolated and studied.
Finn groaning around his hand, Will leaning down to bite at his ear, tongue soothing where teeth were. “Quiet. Be quiet, or I’ll gag you if I have to.” and Finn’s eyes roll back in his head, grabbing Will’s ass, nails raking across his spine.
It’s too much, it’s not enough, angle dancing so close to being just right, and maybe on every other thrust it is, it’s perfect and oh god, Will bites his lip hard to hold back the desperate whine of frustration, copper taste of blood filling his mouth, everything, everything feels more, he’s dizzy, his skin is itchy and tight, little pinwheels of swirling color at the edge of his vision, and he needs, he wants, fuck, fuck, fuck, if he could just…but no, with his current lack of coordination anything more complicated and he’d likely break his neck or lose an eye, so here he is, probably about to come in his underwear like a teenager, and trying to do it as quietly as possible (like he’s worried his parents might hear them) and it’d be kind of sad and embarrassing except for the part where he fucking needs to come right the fuck now or else he’s going to die.
And oh, it’s a long, long way from back in the day when they could take all the time in the world, hours and hours to taste and touch and yell every filthy thing they could think of at the top of their lungs, but there is something to be said for this, all the years it took to get to get to this point, not asking, not telling, not guessing, just knowing. Knowing exactly what feels. So. Fucking. Good.
Flutter of fingertips at the small of Will’s back and that’s code for ‘hold on, give me a sec’, he’s instinctively shifting up, Finn’s arm wrapping around his waist so he doesn’t fall over and yeeeesssss, boxers shoved down around their thighs, Finn holding out his hand for Will, a long slow lick, tongue tracing the skin warm metal of his wedding band.
Huge and hot, wrapping around both of them, desperate slick slide, and just a little oh, more, that, yes, exactly…like that. Finn’s breath coming out in stuttering gasps, eyes bright and burning, wide with arousal, and when he shouts his release it’s a hush against Will’s palm. Will tumbling along seconds after him, kissing the vee of his throat, sucking at his collarbone hard enough to bruise.
Collapsing on top of Finn and they need to move, they need to clean up because they’re sticky and disgusting, but Will can’t, his bones are liquid and his eyelids are heavy, so instead he just buries his face in Finn’s shoulder.
Which is currently shaking with laughter.
“Will, you went down like a ton of bricks.”
“Shut up.”
A snort and Finn’s muttering something that sounds like “Your arms…windmills.”
“Please shut up.”
Wheezing giggle that Finn does an absolute horrible job of holding in.
“Seriously, what part of ‘I will gag you’ did you not understand?”
The hand on his hip tightens momentarily, dick stirring slightly with interest and Will can’t suppress the half pleased little grin against Finn’s neck, mumbling an exhaustion blurred “Shhh, not now, later. Sleep first.”
**
Hot.
Sweaty.
Arm asleep.
Need to move.
Trying.
Can’t move.
Can’t move because Finn is doing his human blanket impression and Will eventually wriggles out from underneath.
Quiet. It’s quiet now. Melody’s probably going to wake up any moment for her next feeding. Time, what time---.
Sunlight.
There’s sunlight coming in the window and the last time he got up was sometime after one a.m. and it’s almost seven and that means it’s been hours and she’s not making a sound and oh dear god…Will’s heart stops beating. Not a figure of speech he literally feels his heart stop. Then it makes up for it by pounding at triple, no quadruple time, and he’s leaping from the bed, down the hall, to the nursery…
Melody, Melody, oh god, oh god, Mel-
Is fast asleep, tiny fist tucked under her chin, curled up into a ball with her butt in the air, completely passed out.
Knees going weak with relief, white knuckle grip on the crib handle bars, and he stands there and counts her breaths, eyes following every rise and fall of her back, his hand hovering over her head like a benediction.
And then it hits him.
She slept through the night.
Almost six hours and it might not be a permanent thing, he knows he can’t count on it, but it’s the longest stretch by far and she might even stay asleep for another hour or so.
That is, if he and Finn can be quiet.
Author:alicebluegown16
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Characters: Will/Finn, OFC (Melody)
Summary: Shhh. Don't wake up the baby.
AN: Part of my series. Not a parent. No idea how accurate this is.
It takes some trial and error, but eventually they get this whole baby thing down and have a pretty good system going.
Finn is the absolute king when it comes to feeding, since he is one of the few people who actually manages to get formula into Melody’s stomach as opposed to all over her front or dribbling down her chin when she fidgets and fusses. He’s also unbelievably blasé about being spit up on, and he practically has to just look at her and she’s belching loud enough to shake the rafters. Except for Will’s fears that he’s not kidding when he talks about teaching Melody to burp the alphabet when she’s older, it’s ideal.
Bath time is both of them because it takes four hands to hold her down, slippery and wiggling so much that he and Finn usually end up looking like drowned rats, soaked and sputtering. To say nothing of the way she shrieks bloody murder the second they attempt to wash her hair. When Kurt hears of this, he bestows yet another nickname on Melody-Elphaba. Which Will does not find at all amusing considering he half worries the neighbors suspect he and Finn are beating their child.
Diaper changes-obviously neither one of them enjoys it which is a shame as she fills them at a spectacularly alarming rate and Will truly has no idea how his beautiful, sweet (most of the time) baby girl is capable of producing smells horrific enough to peel paint. But change her they must and change her they do, the responsibility determined using an elaborate barter system involving backrubs, blowjobs, and trading off on whose turn it is to get up in the middle of the night. And occasionally when necessary (for the truly horrific, dear god, that’s a green not found in nature times), a game of rock, paper, scissors.
Bedtime is always Will’s. It started as an accident. Melody screaming and crying, just out and out howling in utter misery and Will had been so exhausted he’d wanted to cry too. Nothing had worked, not lullabies, not rocking, not begging, not pleading, not promises to buy her a pony if only please, please, please, Melly, please just go to sleep. In desperation he’d picked up one of Cassie’s notebooks and started reading. And maybe it’s coincidence or maybe she’d just tired herself out, but gradually, she’d stopped screaming, her tears tapering off to the occasional whimper and sniffle until she hadn’t been crying at all. Staring up at him with wide bright eyes as if to say “And then what happened?”
It becomes the strangest sort of bedtime story, Cassie’s scribbles and then later her letters, and Will’s memories. Sometimes it takes forever; his voice will be starting to get hoarse before Melody’s eyes gradually drift shut. Sometimes he laughs out loud at a certain turn of phrase, hearing Cassie’s voice in his head shaping the words. Sometimes it’s painful reading how much she’d kept to herself, how unsure she’d been of her place in their home and Will worries that they did her more harm than good, that they could have said or done more to let her know how much they loved her, how much she was a part of their family. Sometimes Finn stands in the doorway and listens.
And always when Melody’s finally, finally asleep, face cuddled up against her stuffed rabbit, thumb in her mouth, her little chest rising and falling with each breath, Will falls in love all over again.
**
“She’s finally down for the count.” It’s late, and Will thinks he actually hears his jaw creak when he yawns, and oh, why does their girl do this, just when he finally thinks she’s mostly accepted the fact that this whole bedtime thing is actually going to be an every night occurrence and she might as well get used to it, they have times like this.
“How is it that-and she-God-“ Will waves his hand vaguely which clearly means “It is totally unfair that just when I’m ready to say forget this whole parenting thing and let's run off to Tahiti together, she makes that little snuffling noise and wrinkles up her nose and I melt like a marshmallow in the microwave.”
Then because he’s cool like that, Will trips over one of Finn’s boat sized sneakers and goes down with all of the grace of an elephant on roller-skates, which is to say none at all.
And Finn does not ask if he’s okay or offer up any apology, instead he laughs, loud and long and hard enough to shake the bed and did Will mention loud, because loud seems to be the prevalent adjective and what the ever loving hell, if he does not shut up, if he wakes up Melody because of his couldn’t be bothered to put his god dammed shoes away idiocy, Will is going to smother him with the pillow and no jury in the world would convict him.
“Shut up, shut up, shut up, for the fucking love of god!” Frantic desperate whisper and because he’s running on maybe eight hours of sleep for the past three days, it makes absolute perfect sense for him climb on top of Finn, knees on either side of his hips, and clamps his hand tight over Finn’s mouth.
Instead of shoving him off, Finn moans low and deep, the vibrations traveling up Will’s arm and he’d swear he feels it in his own chest, Finn arching up, vice grip on Will’s hips, practically rutting against him where Will’s thigh meets groin.
Briefest momentary thought of, ‘Are you fucking kidding me? We could be sleeping.’ becomes ‘Oh, fuck yes, please.’ as soon as Finn palms the front of his boxers and really, sometimes Will thinks Finn’s ability after all these years to still send him from ‘zero’ to ‘take me right now’ in less than .5 seconds is something that needs to be isolated and studied.
Finn groaning around his hand, Will leaning down to bite at his ear, tongue soothing where teeth were. “Quiet. Be quiet, or I’ll gag you if I have to.” and Finn’s eyes roll back in his head, grabbing Will’s ass, nails raking across his spine.
It’s too much, it’s not enough, angle dancing so close to being just right, and maybe on every other thrust it is, it’s perfect and oh god, Will bites his lip hard to hold back the desperate whine of frustration, copper taste of blood filling his mouth, everything, everything feels more, he’s dizzy, his skin is itchy and tight, little pinwheels of swirling color at the edge of his vision, and he needs, he wants, fuck, fuck, fuck, if he could just…but no, with his current lack of coordination anything more complicated and he’d likely break his neck or lose an eye, so here he is, probably about to come in his underwear like a teenager, and trying to do it as quietly as possible (like he’s worried his parents might hear them) and it’d be kind of sad and embarrassing except for the part where he fucking needs to come right the fuck now or else he’s going to die.
And oh, it’s a long, long way from back in the day when they could take all the time in the world, hours and hours to taste and touch and yell every filthy thing they could think of at the top of their lungs, but there is something to be said for this, all the years it took to get to get to this point, not asking, not telling, not guessing, just knowing. Knowing exactly what feels. So. Fucking. Good.
Flutter of fingertips at the small of Will’s back and that’s code for ‘hold on, give me a sec’, he’s instinctively shifting up, Finn’s arm wrapping around his waist so he doesn’t fall over and yeeeesssss, boxers shoved down around their thighs, Finn holding out his hand for Will, a long slow lick, tongue tracing the skin warm metal of his wedding band.
Huge and hot, wrapping around both of them, desperate slick slide, and just a little oh, more, that, yes, exactly…like that. Finn’s breath coming out in stuttering gasps, eyes bright and burning, wide with arousal, and when he shouts his release it’s a hush against Will’s palm. Will tumbling along seconds after him, kissing the vee of his throat, sucking at his collarbone hard enough to bruise.
Collapsing on top of Finn and they need to move, they need to clean up because they’re sticky and disgusting, but Will can’t, his bones are liquid and his eyelids are heavy, so instead he just buries his face in Finn’s shoulder.
Which is currently shaking with laughter.
“Will, you went down like a ton of bricks.”
“Shut up.”
A snort and Finn’s muttering something that sounds like “Your arms…windmills.”
“Please shut up.”
Wheezing giggle that Finn does an absolute horrible job of holding in.
“Seriously, what part of ‘I will gag you’ did you not understand?”
The hand on his hip tightens momentarily, dick stirring slightly with interest and Will can’t suppress the half pleased little grin against Finn’s neck, mumbling an exhaustion blurred “Shhh, not now, later. Sleep first.”
**
Hot.
Sweaty.
Arm asleep.
Need to move.
Trying.
Can’t move.
Can’t move because Finn is doing his human blanket impression and Will eventually wriggles out from underneath.
Quiet. It’s quiet now. Melody’s probably going to wake up any moment for her next feeding. Time, what time---.
Sunlight.
There’s sunlight coming in the window and the last time he got up was sometime after one a.m. and it’s almost seven and that means it’s been hours and she’s not making a sound and oh dear god…Will’s heart stops beating. Not a figure of speech he literally feels his heart stop. Then it makes up for it by pounding at triple, no quadruple time, and he’s leaping from the bed, down the hall, to the nursery…
Melody, Melody, oh god, oh god, Mel-
Is fast asleep, tiny fist tucked under her chin, curled up into a ball with her butt in the air, completely passed out.
Knees going weak with relief, white knuckle grip on the crib handle bars, and he stands there and counts her breaths, eyes following every rise and fall of her back, his hand hovering over her head like a benediction.
And then it hits him.
She slept through the night.
Almost six hours and it might not be a permanent thing, he knows he can’t count on it, but it’s the longest stretch by far and she might even stay asleep for another hour or so.
That is, if he and Finn can be quiet.