@kingdonmicrofic | @kingdonmacrofic | 647/236 | rated g | ao3
On a normal afternoon, on an ordinary autumn day, on their average walk through the park with all five kids in tow, he saw it.
The air was crisp and cool. Tanner was walking ahead with the toddling twins clutching each of his hands. Ava and Olivia were making a slower pace of it, skipping and twirling about. Frank and Mel followed behind, arms linked at the elbow, where they could watch them all–a front row seat to an array of happiness.
And it was like it had appeared to him with perfect clarity: a vision of their future sprawled out in front of him, unfurling like the sidewalk path beneath their feet.
He saw them raising their children through the happiest childhood they could provide–little league and soccer matches, early morning cheering from the sidelines with homemade signs painted by little fingers; book reports and science fairs, paper mache volcanoes and late nights finishing dioramas forgotten about until just before the due date; amusement parks and school carnivals; scraped knees and bruises, tears that had to be dried and fevers that had to be cooled; school plays and choir performances; heightened emotions and all the growing pains. All that before guiding them through the tumultuous adolescent years–puberty and peer pressure; first loves and first heartbreaks, with bigger smiles and then tears that were harder to wipe away; driver’s licenses and first jobs; SATs and college applications; senior proms and graduations, all the highest highs and lowest lows.
He saw them seeing each of them off into the adult world on whatever path they chose, one after another, after another, until they had emptied the nest. He saw them watching from the peripheries as their children found their callings in life. He saw their children finding love and partners in whatever form that brought them joy, hopefully leading by the example he and Mel had shown them. He saw their family growing and expanding as their children had children of their own. He saw them starting the journey all over again this time in the role of spoiling grandparents. He imagined birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays with the house overflowing.
And through it all, what he saw was him and Mel, arm in arm, growing old together. He had stood before her in front of their friends and family and vowed to love her forever and he intended to keep that promise above all else. So, he would cherish her and the life they built together piece by piece through all the time they had together left on this Earth. He would love her through every gray hair and wrinkle that appeared. And, then, because she had made him believe in the existence of soulmates by being his without a doubt in his mind, he would find her again in the next.
His head spun with those premonitions of the future, as he looked at his children in front of them and he saw every version of them all at once, but he was grounded back into reality–a breath of relief as they all folded back into their present form–by Mel pressed into his side. She pulled him to a stop on the path, eyes thoughtful as they met his, as if she could tell he had wandered off somewhere without her. She caught him by both sides of his scarf and dragged him toward her so all he could focus on was her face at that moment. And while they both had one eye on the kids a few feet ahead of them, it was clear they–he–needed the pause. Her lips pouted but she didn’t need to speak. She just had to tip her chin up and he swooped down to kiss her.
As wonderful as their future looked, looming ahead, there was really nothing better than what they had together, right now, in front of them.
@kingdonmicrofic | @kingdonmacrofic | 677/361 | rated g | ao3
It was the small moments. The little bursts of tenderness that strung together to form a full picture of a beautiful life.
It was that smile of hers, wide and candid, that appeared for him anytime they shared the same space. He could be gone five seconds, five hours, or five days; she always reacted with the same unadulterated joy when he came back to her. And maybe he didn’t show it on his face to the same degree, but he felt it, always, a bloom of warmth in his stomach that sent butterflies fluttering like he had never felt before her, every time.
It was her hand seeking his out–across the console in the car, over the table at dinner or lunch or breakfast or any meal really, as their arm swung beside them when they’re on a walk, in the dark as a movie plays on their TV, through the space between them in bed, for a quick moment as they orbited each other at work–reaching for that connection, that link, that was solid and real between them.
It was the hug and kiss before leaving for the day and when they got home. It was the way she cradled their children when they cried and lifted them when they laughed. It was the way she did the same for him and let him do it for her.
It was the homemade chicken noodle soup on sick days and the forehead temperature checks with the cool back of her hand or soft lips, even though they were doctors and had at least three thermometers in reach no matter where they were in the house. It was how there were double noodles when it was Tanner with the sniffles, shredded instead of chopped chicken for Ava and Olivia when they were under the weather, a heartier broth for Becca, and extra veggies for him. It was how even though he still hadn’t perfected her recipe, she still claimed it was the best thing she had ever tasted when he brought her a bowl when she was sick in bed and how she swore it alone had brought down her fever when he pressed his lips to her temple to check.
It was homework at the kitchen table, hopscotch in the driveway; piggy back rides at the zoo, at the aquarium, at the park; and random dancing in the living room that filled the house with squeals of laughter. It was carrying on the King sister traditions–Friday nights at pizza parlors followed by a showing of Elf or whatever movie Becca was fixated on that week–even though they now had to claim the biggest booth in the restaurant and even then they were crowded in with little bodies crawling over each other.
It was the cheeky smile that was the only warning before she splashed him with suds while they washed the dishes. It was the streaks of dirt they left on each other’s cheeks when they paused for a kiss during their yardwork in the garden. It was the way she slid perfectly into his arms when she misjudged how long it would take for the mopped floor to dry.
It was bearing witness to her being an amazing doctor, a spectacular mother, the absolute best wife, and an even better person. It was that, even though he knew he could never live up to her standard–not as a doctor, a father, a husband or a person–she believed he did and that made him want to work harder to make it even half true.
It was the love–their love–the tangible and intangible representations of it, that lived and breathed in everything they did, everything they were, that he would never give up for anything in the world. It was her and there wasn’t a second in any day that he wasn’t grateful he had found her. She was his gift from the universe, that he could never hope to truly deserve, and through her he had been given a life he had only dreamed was possible.
@kingdonmicrofic | @kingdonmacrofic | 760/119 | rated g | ao3
It was Christmas Eve, the stockings were hung, and all of the children were snug in their beds, hopefully their dreams dancing with sugar plums or whatever the poem said. But unlike that holiday classic, in the Langdon household there were at least two creatures stirring and neither were in a kerchief or cap.
Mel had made quick work of filling the stockings with the small trinkets and sweet treats and disappeared into the kitchen a few minutes before. Frank had gathered all the presents signed ‘From Santa’ that had been hidden in closets and on high shelves away from curious eyes, their way of preserving the Christmas magic for the kids, and was almost done carefully stacking them amongst the ones from him and Mel when she returned.
She came bearing mugs of coffee and, in the true hectic spirit of the holiday, the small gesture felt like a Christmas miracle handed down to him by an angel on Earth.
He accepted his with a murmured ‘thank you,’ voice low so there’s no chance they’ll be heard. She sat down beside him beneath their tree, stretching across him to grab the glass of milk the kids had left out for Santa with a generous stack of cookies. She tipped it over her own mug to add a splash and to mimic that a good gulp had been taken by the Man in Red. She put it back when she was done and this time retrieved two cookies from the platter, handing one to him as she leaned back. He met her eyes as they both took deliberate bites out of the cookies and washed them down with sips from their mugs.
They shifted so she could settle between his legs and rest back against his chest while they finished their well-past midnight snack. The position let them admire their beautifully decorated tree with the twinkling rainbow lights and their mismatched ornament collection heavily clustered on the lower branches where the kids could reach. When their mugs were empty and they had each devoured a cookie a piece and taken bites out of a few others to leave behind, she let her head lull back against his shoulder so when she tipped her chin up she could press feather light kisses to his neck.
“Tanner really made a go of it this year. I’m proud of his tenacity,” she breathed against his skin.
She was referring to Tanner’s valiant effort to stay up to catch Santa that had him slipping in and out of sleep and his bed, which had led to them having to stay up even later to be sure they didn’t run into him in the halls. Frank had worried earlier in the season that this year might be the one that his oldest stopped believing, because he had already voiced his skepticism a few times; so it had been even more important to preserve the magic at least once more, before he had to have the serious conversation about how they had the responsibility to not ruin it for his younger siblings. More than anything, he wanted his kids to enjoy all the wonders of childhood for as long as possible.
He dipped his head so the next time she moved in to kiss his neck, she found his lips instead.
“Wait until the rest of them get older. And the twins at the same time–” he blew out a soft chuckle. “We thought we weren’t getting sleep with newborns–imagine when they all start hitting their teens.”
“I do,” she replied, almost dreamily, and he couldn’t be sure if it was from the wonder of the imagined future or just the haze of exhaustion creeping in; he chose to believe it was the former.
He tightened his hold on her and nuzzled his nose into her hair, breathing her in. “Do you think we’re safe to stay like this a little longer?”
“A little longer,” she found his hand and interlocked their fingers.
When they finally dragged themselves back to bed after putting away their empty mugs and clearing away any evidence of them being there beside their specific hints to a Claus visit, they were weary down to their bones. It would feel like mere minutes had passed before they were woken by Tanner and Ava diving into bed on top of them ready to start the day with the sun. But seeing the radiating joy on the kids’ faces when they discovered all that Santa had left them, it made it all worth it.
In the past, Frank had found the concept of a family portrait Christmas card so performative.
Maybe that was because his experience with them boiled down to that time of year when they started to show up on the fridge and entry room table showcasing the families of Abby’s old college friends or distant relatives with either poised and polished children and matching outfits, looked like they were about to attend a press conference more than a family holiday. They made him cringe involuntarily every time a new one appeared, but he never voiced his opinion because Abby always talked about wishing they had one to send back in return. He never told her no, but the timing had never worked out.
He could have told her he preferred the old way his mother sent out Christmas cards–actual cards, the fronts depicting some cheery holiday illustration and words of good tidings, signed inside from the whole family in his mother’s handwriting, usually the same message repeated in each identical card from that year’s box, but some with a more personalized note if a recipient was deemed especially important, filled out habitually one after another at her writing desk the day after Thanksgiving so they would be ready to mail on December first, and if pictures were included it was usually a school photo bought in packets of prints in a quality so excessive each year that the only way to get rid of them was to stick a wallet size in each card, seal the envelope and send it on its way–but he never did and then they were divorced before they ever sent out either kind.
He did tell Mel once, when they first moved in together and she came across a few of the ones he had saved from his mother over the years since he had left for college. She had laughed a little when she saw that on the first couple, his mother had still signed his name along with the rest of the family, even in the one sent to him. In the moment, he felt like she understood the strange little spark of joy those cards gave him, but he knew she really got it when, the next November as soon as Thanksgiving had passed, she had quietly left a box of cards with a sweet little scene of snowmen in a forest on his bedside table. They had signed them together and he knew he never wanted to send another without her name printed next to his.
They would have plenty of family portraits, posed and candid, over the years, but seeing their names each year spelled out next to each other, the list growing and growing, sometimes in Mel’s neat handwriting and sometimes in his, that felt like family.
Merry Christmas from the Langdons! Love Frank, Mel, Tanner, Ava, Olivia, Noah & Liam!
The house was dark and still in the middle of the night when he roused to find Mel’s side of the bed empty. Now that the twins were born and they were juggling five children all in different stages of childhood, Becca’s transition to independent living at her new facility, and work; it wasn’t strange to find one or both of them up at odd hours of the night. Even when they tried not to disturb each other, he never slept long once she was out of their bed. It was almost as if, even at rest, his body rejected any distance between them.
On this night, he slogged his way downstairs, bleary eyed and possibly still mostly asleep, to find her in their living room with the twins. One of the boys was nestled in the portable bassinet beside her, wide awake, calmly staring with his mother’s warm eyes, Noah. Mel had the other, Liam, snug in her arms, feeding, with a cozy flannel blanket draped around them. She was staring at the soft flickering glow of the TV, as a muted infomercial played, the only light source in the room. Her glasses were slightly crooked on her face as if she had put them on in haste, but couldn’t be bothered to correct them. A wave of intense affection nearly knocked him off his feet and he let the ripples of love and admiration for her take him off balance and deposit him in the empty seat beside her on the other side of the couch.
“Hey,” he whispered and kissed her shoulder through the layers of blanket.
“Liam woke up fussy, but you know if one of them is awake–”
“–they both are,” they finished together.
“You should go back to bed. ” she said. “I still have to feed Noah.”
“Gimme,” Frank made beckoning motions for her to pass him the now satisfied Liam.
“You have to be up for Tanner’s field trip tomorrow. This won’t take much longer.”
“Sleep deprivation is part of the deal, baby,” he insisted. “What yours is mine and I won’t sleep without you next to me anyway. Let me take him.”
With a reluctant sigh, she carefully moved Liam to his arms. He leaned back against the couch, cradling Liam close, while she settled in to feed Noah. With the warmth of a sleepy baby snuggled in the center of his chest, and the comfort of Mel beside him, it wasn’t long before Frank himself was peacefully dozing.
When he woke up again, the twins were sleeping soundly in the bassinet and it was Mel that was snuggled against his chest, arms looped around him and the flannel blanket tucked around both of them. Even though they would all probably regret it when they had to be awake in a couple hours, there was nowhere he would rather be than right there, so he tightened his hold on her, nestled in, and let himself fall back to sleep, perfectly content.
Becca narrowed her eyes as Mel brought the tray of cinnamon rolls to the table and sat them down amongst the various dishes already present.
To be fair, Frank was aware that the overabundant breakfast feat was already suspicious. The addition of the ooey gooey homemade confection was like a neon sign, it was so blindingly obvious. It wasn’t like they were committed to the subterfuge. This was a happy occasion. They were just trying to share the joy in multiple forms.
“What are you up to?” Becca asked.
“Can’t we make our family a nice breakfast just because?” Mel responded, her voice pitching upward.
Frank clenched his lips together to try to hide the smile growing over her attempt at being inconspicuous.
Becca looked pointedly between both of them and then the food on the table. “No.”
“I think she’s got us figured out, sweetheart,” Frank nudged Mel gently before starting to serve plates for Tanner and Ava, whose eyes had gone wide as saucers at the sight of the cinnamon rolls dripping with sugary icing. He figured he needed to load them up with the healthier by comparison options before they started salivating. “You might as well get it over with.”
Mel took a deep breath. “We brought you all together so we could talk to you about something.”
“Clearly,” Becca said, rolling her eyes as she began to pick food for her plate.
“We already talked about how our family is growing,” Mel started, met with half invested nods from Becca and the older children, who had all started to eat, “but we have some more news.”
“It’s not like you can tell me I’m going to be even more of an aunt than I already am,” Becca said.
“Actually,” Mel drew out the word as she fumbled with the cake toppers she had hidden in her lap, specifically chosen to clearly illustrate their announcement. She stuck the first swaddled baby topper in one of the cinnamon rolls. When everyone was looking–Becca, Tanner, Ava, and even little Olivia, who tilted her head to watch the movement, but was too young to truly comprehend the imagery–placed the second matching one in the roll beside it.
Becca broke into a wide smile. “Twins? Like you and me?”
“Not exactly like you and Mel,” Frank chimed in as he placed the two toppers he was responsible for beside the others so the two ‘It’s A Boy!’ flags framed the babies.
Tanner’s small, sticky fists punched the air. “Two brothers!”
“Two brothers!” Ava mimicked Tanner’s gesture.
Not to be left out, Olivia cheered with them, tiny hands waving.
With the mood effectively lifted, Mel sighed with relief. She looked to Frank to share their own happy smiles as the joyous cacophony continued around them. He leaned in to kiss her temple and breathe her in.
He slid an arm around her and whispered against her ear, “Told you not to be worried.” “I wasn’t worried. Look at us. This is perfect.”
@kingdonmicrofic | @kingdonmacrofic | 722/315 | rated t | ao3
“Hey hun, were you expecting a package?” Frank called out as he entered their bedroom.
The box had been on their porch when he had gotten back from his run, so he had grabbed it on his way in and carried it upstairs with him. He followed the sound of soft music to their ensuite and found Mel submerged in a bubble bath in their oversized tub. It had been one of her favorite things about this house when she first moved in, even more so during both of her pregnancies. She didn’t get to use it often, usually opting for a shower for efficiency, but when she did, she made a moment of it. With Olivia nupping, the older kids at Abby’s for the week, and Frank on a run, she had settled down for an extended soak. She offered him a lazy smile when he entered the room, one hand resting on her stomach where it just peeked out from beneath the bubbles. He sat himself down on the toilet with the box in his lap.
“Package?” he repeated.
She shifted a little higher in the tub, and he tried not to notice that the bubbles were no longer protecting her modesty as well as before. “Oh, right. I ordered some books for the kids.”
His brows pulled together. “You don’t think they’re covered in the literary department?”
Between all the books Tanner and Ava had accumulated over the years and the ones that had been gifted to Olivia over time, their shelves were full to bursting. Picture books, chapter books, classics, fairytales–they had every category covered. Or so he thought.
“These are for a special circumstance,” she said. When his frown deepened, she encouraged him. “Go ahead, open it up.”
It took him a second to get the tape on the box popped open, but she waited patiently as he worked open the flaps. He pulled each book out, reading the titles as he stacked them on the counter.
Two is for Twins.
A Twin is to Hug.
Take Two: A Celebration of Twins.
Bathtime for Twins.
Twin to Twin.
The Twinniest Twins and The Twinniest Twins and Me.
He was sure there was a conclusion to be drawn, but his brain had short circuited.
When he finally looked up from the collection of books to meet her eyes, she smiled with her shoulders lifted to her ears. “Surprise?”
The next thing he knew, the empty box was tossed across the floor and he was curling himself around her in the bathtub with a splash.
“Frank!” She nearly shrieked. Her face scrunched up even as she accepted the barrage of kisses he was peppering against her soap slick skin. “You’re sweaty! And still dressed!”
“I don’t care,” he replied before finally catching her mouth in a real, deep kiss. He rested his forehead against hers when they each pulled back with a sigh. “I miss one appointment and this is how you tell me?”
“It thought it was clever,” she grinned, cheeky, and he nuzzled his sweat damp fringe into the crook of her neck in retaliation.
“It was clever,” he admitted after, grazing his lips and teeth along her bare shoulder. “My clever, clever girl.”
Later, when his drenched clothes are in a pile outside the tub, his hair and body have been washed at her insistence, they had drained the chilling bath to replace it with fresh steamy water and added bubbles, and they had settled into the more comfortable position of her lounging between his legs, back to his front, to enjoy the rest of her bath together, reality sunk in. One of her hands was in his, fingers laced, so they could stroke the round curve of her belly together.
“Twins,” he whispered against the side of her head, lips to her temple, awed, and she nodded, accepting.
Maybe he should have been panicking a little. The pregnancy itself had already been unexpected–even if inevitable given they hadn't really done anything to avoid it as a possibility–but this meant everything they had since been planning for had now doubled. Three kids weren’t becoming four, but five. Not one newborn but two. A degree of apprehension would be warranted, but, somehow, he felt none of that. Like all things with Mel, this just felt unexplainably right.
Frank didn’t have enough digits on his hands or feet to count how many times Mel had left him breathless just from her presence. He would have to borrow the hands of most of their coworkers and even then it wouldn’t come close to the actual number.
Yet, even as a doctor that understood the medical inaccuracies of most romantic hyperboles, he was pretty sure this time she had stopped his heart at the sight of her.
It was more than that she looked beautiful in the silky maroon dress she had chosen for their turn at the PTMC Fundraising Gala. She was always beautiful. It was that the fit of it was snug enough to show off the gentle swell of her belly that she had thus far been trying to keep hidden from their friends and colleagues with looser scrubs stolen from his side of their shared closet, jackets, and sweaters. As if there was anything that could hide the way she glowed or the way her enthusiastic mood had tripled as she basked in the happy knowledge that was currently kept tight-lipped between themselves, their family, and her OB/GYN. One look at her and the news would travel the Pitt gossip circle before they received the first “Congratulations.”
She stepped into his open arms, hands resting on the lapels of his suit jacket before moving to straighten the matching maroon tie she had picked out for him. “Do you think it’s too much?”
“Absolutely not,” he answered, his hands finding her hips then trailing over the lovely fabric to brush along her belly. “You look gorgeous, sweetheart.”
“I meant, is it too obvious.”
“Nope,” He tilted his head to press kisses to her jaw, then behind her ear, and then down to the slope of her neck so he could avoid messing up the soft sweep of her rarely worn lipstick. “I think it’s just obvious enough. Saves us the trouble of making an official announcement. Plus I’ll get to see Robby go through all the stages of grief in real time when he starts to calculate the family leave.”
“Are you ever going to give that man a break?”
“It’s mutual,” he shrugged. “It’s how we show affection.”
He was holding her so close he could feel her laughter rumble through her and this time he had to kiss her mouth, lipstick be damned. They could both take the deep shade of rouge in with them.
When he pulled back, he offered her his arm. “Are you ready for this?”
She slipped her arm through his, smiling up at him. “With you, I’m ready for anything.”
@kingdonmicrofic | @kingdonmacrofic | 935/336 | rated e | sexual content below the cut (see ao3 for extended tag list) | ao3
Mel handed Frank a positive pregnancy test and his mind instantly shot back through the past couple months in his memory. It was a sensual slideshow of suspects that replayed in vivid clarity.
A recent time, in the backseat of their car, still in the parking lot after their last shift, because he put on a good imitation of a man who wasn’t relentlessly turned on by his wife when they were at work, but that mask came off the second they were alone together. She had been surprised when he opened the back passenger door for her instead of the front, but the way her eyes immediately darkened in response proved she was far from unaffected herself. She had let out a squeak when he slid in after her so quickly he nearly shoved her against the opposite door, but she melted into him when his mouth found hers, hungry and desperate. His kisses were sloppy, his searching hands probably gripping a little too rough, but after all this time he knew what she could take and he was familiar enough with her body that he could tell her need was bubbling over the same as his.
They made quick work of their scrub pants, removing only enough to free the hard length of him and to get her open for him. He dragged her over his lap until she settled with her legs straddling either side of him. He dipped two fingers through her folds, in a motion that had her whining into his mouth, and they came back drenched with her. Her hands caught on his shoulders, pulling at the collar of his scrub top, so when her fingers dug in her nails bit bare skin and drew a hiss through his teeth. He wasted no more time aligning himself with her and thrusting home in one deep, hard movement. By the time he bottomed out, her walls were already clenching around him. He almost lost it right then and there; he was so keyed up for her. God, it was the little things that drove him wild. Like how her glasses were slipping down her nose as she rode him, rocking into him with a measured rise and fall that met his timed shallow thrusts in the confined space. Or the soft affection that somehow shone through the lust when he reached up to gently push them back into place.
It made him feel like a teenager again, hoping the tinted windows were enough to keep them hidden, but being so goddamned out of his mind for his partner that, honestly, getting caught wouldn’t be able to stop him from chasing the bliss that waited for him in their rapidly approaching climax. But the responsible adult and father in him, which he had shoved aside momentarily when he climbed into the backseat, was keeping in the back of his mind that they were short on time, because they were due to meet Abby to get the kids on the way to pick up Olivia. It didn’t matter, because she was already balancing on the precipice–he could feel it in the incessant fluttering of her around him–and like most times with them, getting her over it would take him right with her. All she needed was the smallest push, a swipe of his thumb over her clit with the perfectly learned pressure and she was gone, lost in the waves of pleasure. Seeing her face contort against the flood of sensations seized his own release from him and he spilled into her with a groan she swallowed down with a peppering of kisses. That had been days ago, even in his youth he would not have been virile enough to work that kind of reproductive magic.
Or the evening in their laundry room, when he propped her up on the washer and kneeled for her. He had gotten her off twice with his mouth and tongue, pushing her to her limits of overstimulation until she was clenching her thighs around his ears. She had one hand fisted in his hair, alternating between yanking him closer when he got his lips just right around her clit and shifting him away when it was almost too much, and her other was clamped over her own mouth to muffle the sounds she barely had under control. He kept at it, the voice in his head that was just a little mean egging him on and driving him to try drawing a moan from her that her little hand couldn’t contain–fingers crossed that all the impressionable ears in the house were snug in their beds where they were supposed to be. The thrill that shot down his spine when he was successful was a balm on any twinge of pain he might have felt in his back from the prolonged position.
He didn’t stop until she came again, gushing sweetness over his tongue and the fingers he had crooked inside of her between orgasms, and even then she had to shove him off when he kept lapping at her in a willful attempt at cleaning up the mess he had made of her. Only then could she collapse, limp and satiated, and recover from the experience. She came to so that she could scold him for using one of the clean towels, which she had been folding before he pounced on her, to wipe his face. Still, she returned the favor later that night, crawling under their covers to nestle herself between his legs and take him in her mouth. Same as he knew exactly how to work her over, she was intimately educated in the combination of mouth and tongue and hands he needed so that she would have to scold him again, this time for scrambling for purchase in their freshly laundered sheets so desperately he almost tore right through them. This was obviously not the culprit, but it had been memorable nonetheless.
The more likely scenario was any number of the countless times they had been intimate in the past months. There were the post shift sleepy interludes when they tucked themselves into bed and into each other's arms. Those times they would find each other with drooping eyes and muscles lax. After the harder shifts, they would shed all their layers and she would take his weight on top of her. It would be about comfort and connection more so than seeking physical pleasure. It was all about them, skin on skin, tangled limbs, relishing in all they shared together. The easier nights were more romantic, lighthearted, a sensual dance full of soft smiles and light laughter. They took it slow and easy. The better nights, when they were riding the wave of a particularly difficult save or interesting case, were when they had even more fun with each other. They tried new things, new positions. They moved faster, harder. They chased the energy they had pent up into their bed. It was safe to say they were both extremely turned on by how good of a job they could do at work and twice as much by proving just how good they could be for each other in bed as well.
Then there were the lazy mornings, on their days off when the sunlight was just peeking in their window or if they woke before their alarms before a shift. If he woke before her, which was rare, he would get his fill of watching her peaceful slumber before waking her with trails of kisses on every inch of skin he could reach. Sometimes he would just slide in behind her, spooning her back and she would open her legs for him, hooking one over his to give him just enough room to slide home. He could cradle her against him through the slow rocking, time their breathing so they were in sync like they so often were in all aspects of their lives. Other times they needed to be face to face as they made love, so they could see each other’s eyes, see the depths of their love for each other shining through as if they couldn’t feel it radiating off of each other all the time. It might have been described as vanilla by an outside observer, but the point of it was that it didn’t matter the how or when, the want he had for her that she matched for him had not once lessened in the time they had been together. It had only grown and he hoped it continued that way through all of their years together.
Frank had always tried to spare Mel from the thoughtless act of comparing any part of their relationship with his and Abby’s. It wouldn’t have been fair to either woman. They were both very different people who found him at very different points in his life. He refused to do anything that would devalue either of them. And no matter how his first marriage turned out or how it ended, it had brought him to where he was now. It had prepared him so that he was ready to be the parent he needed to be to all of his children and to be the man that deserved Mel as a wife. Still, as the film reel of these passionate highlights played behind his eyes, he realized something: he could remember the exact moment that resulted in each of his oldest children.
With Tanner, it wasn’t so much the act itself he remembered but the aftermath: the realization of the missed birth control, the broken condom, the panic turned resolve that followed. Then for Ava, Abby had been so set on their children being close in age, even though the world was still in chaos, barely righting itself, so it had been structured, not just planned but scheduled. While it did nothing to diminish the joy that his children were themselves, there was something in the fact that while he could remember all these times with Mel in such clarity, he would likely never know which time was responsible for the creation of this life. They were a product of their consistent and ongoing love for each other.
Frank turned to Mel, clutching the test like a lifeline and grinning. “Okay, but we are going to talk about it before the next time.”
She laughed, something like relief in the gust of it, and put the test back on her nightstand. “Let’s get through this time before we consider the possibility of a next.”
“Fair enough,” he said against her mouth as he dragged her into a kiss and then under him.
“Do you think it’s time we started talking about it?”
Frank broached the subject later that night when they were getting into bed. Maybe it was too serious of a topic to bring up when he was in his boxers and Mel was in the soft pajamas with little mushrooms on them that Ava had picked out for her for mother’s day. Or maybe this was the exact right time, a moment real and familiar. Besides, Mel had caught him outside Tanner’s room so she knew he knew and the longer he waited the more it would seem like he was saying something with his silence.
When Mel didn’t answer, not even to voice faux confusion, he filled in the quiet for her with a slew of rambling thoughts that were brewing in his head–stirred up by Tanner’s birthday wish, but long present in the back of his mind.
“Because things happened so fast with Olivia, we never actually discussed what we wanted for our family, what you wanted,” he leaned forward so his eyes were level with hers. “Obviously, Tanner and Ava and I came as a package deal, but we never talked about what that meant for you. I didn’t think we needed to, because you took to the role so naturally, but we should have talked about it. And I was, honestly, so blinded by happiness when you told me you were pregnant with Olivia, that I never asked–sweetheart, I don’t even know if you wanted more children.”
“But you want more children.”
He looked down at her hands worrying at the fabric of her pajamas, her fingers pinching the mushroom pattern, until he drew her hands into his own, allowing her to play with his fingers instead.
“That’s not what I’m asking,” he squeezed her hands, rhythmic like a heartbeat. “I’ve been down that road before with Abby–giving each other what we thought the other wanted without talking about what we needed and resenting each other for the presumption. That is not a road I ever want to go down with you. And sometimes I think I carried so much into this relationship, and you opened your arms to it so willingly, that I worry you could be eclipsed by it without me ever realizing.”
“First of all, you would never let that happen. You say that like what you handed me was a burden when really you gave me everything I’ve ever wanted–what I thought I might never have.”
“And second?”
A small smile twisted her lips and it occurred to him that maybe he had misinterpreted her nerves.
“Second, I feel the same way about finding out what you want, because we should talk about it, but sometimes life has a funny way of getting in the way.” She handed him what she had been hiding in her nightstand. “I was waiting until after Tanner’s birthday.”
A single plus sign stunned him speechless, but not her.
The look of concentration on Tanner’s face was intense as he stared down at the single candle flickering on his cupcake. Even after they finished singing Happy Birthday, he took an extra moment to think it over before he blew out the candle.
It was all a very serious undertaking for a kid under ten. That was what crossed Frank’s mind as he watched from the other side of their kitchen table.
At first he thought it might have been about the toned down celebration, dashed expectations or the like. But this was the just prelude, the traditional birthday wish on his actual birthday, before the real deal: the meticulously planned and executed birthday party that as co-parents they were co-hosting for his entire class at Abby’s that coming Saturday. Tanner knew that, and while Frank loved to spoil his kids endlessly, he worked very hard to make sure they didn’t become spoiled. It had to be something else making his usually lively son look almost brooding.
So Frank did what he could to inject some levity into the moment while Mel removed the spent candle so Tanner could enjoy the treat and and started to pass out the rest of the cupcakes around the table.
“That must have been some wish, bud,” Frank exclaimed, pushing as much enthusiasm into his voice as possible. He paused only to softly kiss the back of Mel’s hand as she passed him the small plate with his cupcake on it; and to watch the gentle blush bloom on her cheeks even when she ducked her head and sat beside Olivia’s high chair with her own cupcake. “You want to tell us what you wished for?”
That perked Tanner up. His whole body straightened and, with a face full of icing, he scolded his dad for the audacity. “I can’t tell you that! It won’t come true then.”
“I’m sure we could get away with it just this once,” Frank said around a bite of cupcake.
“Daddy’s talking with his mouth full!” Ava accused, pointing at him with her chocolate grin.
“No!” Tanner insisted.
“Alright, alright. Keep your secrets then,” Frank relented as the table erupted into laughter, even Olivia joining in with her gurgly giggles, and he shared a knowing look with Mel.
He would find out later anyway, at bedtime. By request, Mel had handled helping the birthday boy with his nightly routine. It might have offended his fatherly sensibilities if the happy little smile Mel got anytime one of the older kids asked for her wasn’t so damn heartwarming. So Frank had taken care of getting the girls to bed and snuck back to Tanner’s room to eavesdrop on the tuck in. He took a quick peek in to see Mel perched at the edge of Tanner’s bed, working his blankets snug around him, before leaning out of sight to listen.
“Mama Mel? Can you keep a secret? Ava and Olivia are the best, but I wished for a baby brother.”
Frank held up the shirt beside his face for reference. Mel rolled her eyes at him as she took it from him to hang it with the rest of the matching set.
She patted his cheek as she passed. “I don’t think you have to worry about a color making you any less attractive.”
Tanner’s little league season was about to start and they had ordered matching jerseys with his number on them for the entire family. They all wanted to be prepared to go all out cheering for him on the sidelines all season. The unfortunate thing was his team color this year was a sickeningly obnoxious shade of pumpkin orange. It had assaulted his eyes when he opened the package a few minutes before.
He dipped to sweep a kiss to her palm before she pulled away. “Is that your way of saying you find me attractive?”
“As if that’s a question,” she replied, but she didn’t look at him. Instead, she kept her back to him as she moved to organize the various sized shirts in a neat row together in their closet. There was a certain set to her shoulders that twigged something in him.
“Wait,” he frowned, following after her. He caught her by the waist with both hands and pressed himself against her back. “Does that mean you think you have to worry about a color making you less attractive?”
She stayed silent, lips pressed firmly together, but her fingers were a tell as they fiddled with the orange shirt closest to her–the smallest they could order, the one Olivia would still drown in.
Well, he couldn’t have that. It was one thing for him to think a color only meant for a gourd classed with the blue of his eyes. It was another for his lovely vision of a wife to think anything could dull the way she radiated beauty.
He slid his arm around to hug her closer, bending so he could rest his chin on her shoulder as he held her. He turned his face so he could pepper feather light kisses to her cheek. He could feel her trying to dig her heels in, trying not to let him dispel her insecurities so easily–with little more than the slightest of attention.
“Believe me when I say,” he whispered along her jawline, punctuating his words with more soft kisses against every open space of skin he could reach. “You would be irresistible in any color, whether it’s pumpkin orange or chartreuse or puce; because, you, Mel Langdon, are exquisite, body and soul.”
“I feel you may be unjustly biased,” she evaded, but finally let herself relax into his arms. He had her now. “Biased? Without a doubt,” he grinned against her ear, before twisting to nibble on it. “I’d find you tempting in anything, or even better, nothing. But unjustly? Absolutely not. God’s honest truth, you’re just that objectively beautiful, inside and out.”
Dana’s voice broke through before Frank blinked and realized she was leaning on the counter across from him, bent so she could put her face level with his.
He had stopped at the Hub to look over the board and grab his next patient; he must have gotten lost in his thoughts. When she knew she had finally gotten his attention, she raised an eyebrow in question.
“Nothing,” he insisted.
Dana stood up straight, crossing her arms over her chest, unconvinced. “You don’t gotta lie to me, kiddo.”
He ran a hand back through his hair with a sigh. “I offered to take this shift before Abby asked to switch weeks. Now Mel is home with all three kids on her own–which is okay, obviously, she can handle anything, I just–” he decided to say it straight, mouth pouting, “I miss my wife and kids. Wish I was with them right now.”
Dana snorted. “Jesus, Langdon. How am I supposed to make fun of you for that?”
@kingdonmicrofic | 475/285 | rated m | mild sexual content | ao3
He dragged his mouth over her skin, over and through and around the pattern of freckles that resided there as if his lips and tongue were making their way through the most spectacular maze. The journey was just as pleasurable as the reward at the end of the labyrinth.
Her body was a puzzle to solve. By now he was familiar with how every piece–every touch, however small or firm, from the trail of his fingertips down her spine, along the curve of her neck, the dip of her hip, or between her legs where she dripped for him, to the way their bodies molded perfectly, skin to skin, as if heaven designed them for each other, arms and legs tangling, clutching, winding each other closer, impossibly close, all through that relentless push and pull, rhythmic call and response, as he sunk deep inside her and made them one–fit together to unlock her pleasure, and consequently his pleasure, because the thing that drove him was giving her exactly what she needed in the way only he could.
It was a dance they had performed together countless times. No matter how many times, it continued to feel brand new. He would never satisfy his curiosity. When it came to her, there was always something to discover: what different sweetly erotic sounds he could draw from her lips if he sucked just right on that spot behind her ear, how quickly he could get her to clench around him with only changing the angle of his hips as they met hers, or how long he could slow his pace to a deliciously torturous roll before her desperation won out and she was digging her short nails into him wherever she could reach on his neck or back or arms or lower, as she begged him with nearly incoherent babbles of faster, or harder, or more, just more, please, please, please. He would never tire of uncovering ways to bring her to that euphoric edge with him and to plunge them both over it into heady ecstasy.
While Frank had always found sex with Mel revelatory, whether they were trying out their most carnal fantasies or snuggling through a slowly sensual Sunday morning before the sun had fully risen, there was something especially novel about making love to Mel as his lawfully wedded wife for the first time. All their emotions were heightened, passions on another level, and he could feel the urgency of their desire tingling under every inch of his skin. They moved together, slow and steady, relishing in the depth of their connection, breathing their names and declarations of love into each other's skin. When they reached that peak, it wasn’t just orgasmic bliss, it was a release of unadulterated happiness.
And they had the rest of their lives to chase that dizzying feeling together.
Besides a light breeze, the weather on their wedding day was near perfect, as if Mother Nature herself was bestowing her blessing on their nuptials.
The sun had gone down sometimes between the end of their quiet outdoor ceremony and the moment Frank found Mel making a brief escape to the courtyard outside the small banquet room where their reception was taking place. The clear blue skies had been exchanged for an inky black expanse of night, but that breeze still remained. It was the first thing he noticed when he stepped out to find her: how the gentle wind picked up the loose hairs framing her face, her chin tilted upward and eyes closed, her body swaying as she was lost in dreamy reverie.
Frank was loath to interrupt her peaceful musing, especially since he knew how overwhelming the day had likely been for her so far, but she had only officially been his wife for a few hours and he wasn’t prepared to waste a single second of it.
“Excuse me,” he came up behind her, leaning so his mouth was beside her ear. She shivered as his breath and words each brushed past her, but she kept her back to him. “I came out here looking for my wife. You may have seen her. She’s about your height and the most beautiful woman you’ll have ever seen.”
She made a scoffing sound in the back of her throat that told him she was probably rolling her eyes at him even though he couldn’t see them from this angle. He was laying the flattery on thick–sue him, he was riding a tidal wave of romance and blissful happiness–but her reaction made him want to lay it on thicker.
“She’ll be giving off an ethereal aura of divinity. She’s the closest thing to an angel that I’ve seen on Earth. A goddess incarnate, the epitome of grace, a paragon of sexual–”
Mel whipped around to slap a hand over his mouth. The fact that the motion was swift, yet still gentle only proved his point. She was the light of his life, the wonder of his world. Maybe today he was full of cliches, but it didn’t make them less true. It was meant to be the happiest day of their lives after all.
“You’re too much sometimes,” Mel murmured, but her words were so full of affection, he could only take it as a compliment.
He pulled her hand away, their matching rings shining next to each other. “Unfortunate that you’re stuck with me now.” “Very fortunate, actually.”
Their wedding album was leatherbound, hand crafted and personalized, part of their gift from his parents. It had sat front and center in a place of honor in the middle of one of their living room bookshelves since they had finished filling it.
In the times since they said their vows, it had been taken down to be looked through by each of them many times, on their own and together.
Sometimes it was hard to believe that this was the life he had been blessed with and being able to flip through those pages of photographs reminded him of how real it was. The ceremony had been small, intimate, with only their closest friends and family present. Mel had been gorgeous in her simple white gown, glowing with her natural beauty. Tanner, Ava and Olivia dazzled in their child sized fancywear. Even dressed to the nines himself, Frank had simply existed in his wonder that he was privileged enough to be standing beside his family.
The best part of looking back at it through what the camera lens had caught was that in every shot, from every angle, both posed and candid, there was not a single frozen in time frame where any of them was not smiling. They were mementos of happiness so authentic it was contagious across time and space. It wasn’t performative. It was inherent. It was happiness born of a love they could put their faith in. Now here was the evidence to it all compiled together.
