Work Text:
It happens, as most things do, at a Starbucks.
Because it was at a Starbucks where, two weeks ago, Snoopy got very cozy with a beautiful lady stranger. And she, being a beautiful lady stranger being harassed by a dog, took it to mean that Grant was using the dog as a gateway to flirtations.
So she in turn got very, very flirtatious. And Skye, who had been mostly holding a baby and doing a crossword puzzle, only got very extremely not at all entirely jealous.
And it was in that very Starbucks where Skye, still with baby, kissed Grant deeply on the mouth in broad daylight.
At which point, the beautiful lady stranger, who had really done nothing wrong, politely gave Snoopy back, said “Thank you for letting me pet your dog,” and went back to her work.
Which made Skye feel entirely proud of herself. Because that was her boyfriend. They were dating. With full benefits.
Grant had just looked at her, touched his lips, and said, “Oh.”
Additionally, it was at a Starbucks where, three days ago, a less attractive stranger had tried to flirt with Skye while she waited on line for the bathroom.
And Grant, all six feet two inches of him, swept in out of nowhere with a dog and a baby. And touched her butt.
Like. Not a poke or anything. But he’d joined her on line, and slipped his hand into her back pocket. And then given her a squeeze, which was honestly kind of funny.
“Where’d you come from?” she asked.
He shrugged. And the fact that he was gently brushing his thumb against her ass through her jeans was pretty enduring. “Around.”
She’d have done him in the bathroom, probably. Except there was a pretty long line behind her, and the bathroom was filthy, and they had a dog and a baby to deal with.
Still. There’s not a time that she doesn’t want to jump his bones. He’s just gorgeous and kind and funny and hers.
And when he’s holding a baby? Her baby. Their baby.
It’s just unfair.
They should probably stop going to Starbuck. They seem to make increasing PDA spectacles out of themselves.
And really, she’d expected Phillip to get a bit fussier in public, as he got older. He’s teething more fiercely now, and crying jags should be the norm.
But he’s happy as a clam, mostly. Probably because of Grant. It’s been months and months. Only once has Grant mere presence not been enough to at least stifle Phillip’s crying.
And so she and Grant are the problem.
Not like, a problem-problem. They’re not burning down buildings with their love, or anything. Frankly, that’d be pretty irresponsible to do with a baby in the mix.
But they do seem to be trying.
And so they’re on line at Starbucks, like they usually are, and Skye is absolutely not thinking about how good Grant’s lips felt between her legs this morning.
Phillip, her perfect child, is starting to finally, FINALLY sleep through the night.
Which gives Grant and Skye a lot more time for, well.
Adult-friendly activities.
Not that Phillip hasn’t interrupted them multiple times. She’d say it still happens at least a few times a week.
And she likes checking on him. Or having Grant check on him. Knowing her little baby is okay. That they’re a family. That he’s just hungry or fussy and needs his mommy.
She also likes quiet nights. When she rolls on top of Grant and they go and go and go.
She’s tired in the morning, after those kinds of nights. But she doesn’t regret a thing.
And besides. She’s got an infant. When is she not tired?
Might as well be tired on her own terms, really.
Grant’s carrying Phillip on his chest, as usual. Which gives Skye the perfect opportunity to stand on the tip of her toes and nip at his ear.
He lets out a teeny whimper. Snoopy’s ears perk up at it, but Phillip doesn’t seem to notice. Which is good.
By the time he’s like, four, he’ll probably be old enough to be embarrassed by Skye and Grant kissing in public.
Maybe. She doesn’t really know what four year olds are like. Maybe they’ll have until he’s five or six.
“Skye,” Grant whines. “Did I not do enough this morning?”
It’s funny. That he actually means it, that he’s so doting and loving and good. And by funny, she means astonishing.
How did she keep away from him for so long? It’s a mystery.
“You did plenty, Grant,” she says, grabbing his butt for good measure. “I just can’t get enough of you.”
There’s that flush in his cheeks. He’s got no poker face. “Oh, I- We-”
She nuzzles his neck. “Later,” she promises. “We’re next in line.”
He blinks, like he’s trying to clear the dreams in his head. The sexy, dirty dreams. Her favorite kind.
“I’ll have a coffee,” she says. “No. A pumpkin spice. No! Do you have any more of those graham lattes?”
The barista takes a moment to stare at her.
Which. Deserved.
“We’re out of the graham cracker syrup.”
She frowns. “Boo.”
“Can I have a green tea, please?” Grant says. “And-” He looks to the snacks lined up under the pastry window. “Is there anything Phillip can eat yet?”
“I brought,” Skye says. Glances at the barista. “If that’s cool.”
The barista shrugs.
“Okay, good,” Grant says. He gently takes Phillip’s tiny hand. “Don’t want my little boy to be hungry!”
A pause.
Skye is faintly aware of Snoopy wagging his tail at something. Probably a nearby stranger offering him a smile or some attention. And she’s aware of the line of Grant’s back, of the way he’s staring at the counter.
Skye rubs his bicep. “No you don’t,” Skye says. “He’s got to grow up to be as big and strong as his dad.”
Grant turns his head. Looks down at her with wide, wet eyes.
She nudges him. “Finish ordering,” she says. “There’s a line.”
“I love you,” he says.
She grins. “Get me a hot chocolate, I guess?” she says. “I’m gonna take Snoopy to a table.”
She scoops their eager, tiny dog off the floor.
She makes sure to give Grant a kiss on the cheek for good measure.
She’s quick to take the lid off her hot chocolate. So she can lick all the whipped cream up. Naturally.
Grant stares at her for a moment. Takes the lid off of his tea, so it can cool.
Phillip’s nicely settled in his high chair. Snoopy’s resting under him and Patches, the stuffed dog, is held firmly in Phillip’s chubby arms.
“I should-” Grant starts. Purses his lips. “Do you really think- I know you’ve said it but-”
“Yes,” Skye says, and she’s probably got whipped cream on her nose. “I meant it. You are Phillip’s dad. And one day, we’ll get married and it’ll be legal, if you’re worried.”
He swallows. “You want to get married?”
She nibbles her lip. Maybe too much. Maybe. “Do you?”
“Yes!” he says. Too quickly. Flushes. “I mean. Oh, God. Skye. How could I not want to marry you?”
She feels a giggle bubble through her chest. It’s kind of childish and silly, but then Phillip giggles in solidarity with her. And she may actually have to wipe her thumb under her eyes. Because she was totally fine a second ago. And this is no big deal, really. It’s just marriage.
And a baby.
And a dog.
And Grant.
No. Big. Deal. Just a casual marriage discussion. In a Starbucks.
“Keep it up with the flattery,” Skye says, trying to calm herself. “And we’re gonna bang so much you’ll put another baby in me.”
Wow. Excellent tactic.
Grant manages the tiniest, fakest Skye’s ever heard. “Oh God.”
“Sorry,” Skye says. “Sorry, one’s plenty-”
“I mean, if you want more kids, we can have as many as-”
“And like, I’m back on my BC, not to scare you, certainly don’t want-”
“We should decide if we want to do it before or after we get married though, and-”
She pauses. “Wait. You want more kids?”
He swallows. Takes a moment to stroke at Phillip’s curls. “Yeah,” he says. “I mean, I’m one of four, and I really like it, so-”
She puts a hand over her stomach. “You want four kids?”
“Ideally, yeah,” he says. Notices the way she’s sitting. And the slight panic on her face. “Not now, though! Maybe not ever. I mean, I’d love for Phillip to have a little sibling, but it’s not easy having a baby, and we’re both so young, still, we have so much time and-”
She pulls him to her by the front of his tee shirt. And kisses him, harder than she should in a public place.
There is some tongue involved.
And he does suck on her lower lip. And tug on her hair.
But it’s like he said. They’re young.
She breaks it off, gasping.
“Wow,” Grant says. “Wow, that was-”
“We can work it out,” Skye says. She looks over to Phillip, who seems entirely fine.
She should really enjoy that while she still can.
Most kids don’t want their parents making out in public.
Phillip’s just a sweet, tiny baby.
But God. She doesn’t want another one yet.
“I-” Grant’s still stroking her hair. “I know. I just don’t want to put too much on your plate. You’re always busy with work and-”
“Well,” she says. “The kids will have one hell of a dad, at least.”
He beams. “You’re an amazing mom.”
They should probably go back to her apartment and bang. Like, now.
Well. They should feed Phillip, and take a walk through the park first. Normal weekend stuff.
And then later, they’re going to break the freaking bed.
Figuratively.
She doesn’t even want to think about how complicated it would be to get a new bed, and then there’d be strange people in the apartment and they’d probably wake Phillip at some point and just-
Grant kisses her temple. “You okay?”
“Just thinking.”
He takes her hand. Smiles. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes,” Skye says. “Anything.”
He sucks in a breath. “Do you want to meet my parents?”
Oh.
Oh, God.
She looks at Phillip. Phillip looks at her. She blinks. “Sure?”
Grant just smiles back. “They’re going to be in town next week, because they really want to meet you. I mean, as much as they can really want anything, and-”
Well.
She should probably clean the apartment.
The bedroom’s a mess.