Work Text:
It's not much, but it's what they have. It's a small, two bedroom apartment, but Spencer and Derek use the second one for an office, since Savannah yelled at them for bringing case files into their bedroom. The nights are sweltering without the air conditioning, three hot, sweaty bodies pressed up against one another on a small queen mattress. Both Derek and Spencer have received several kicks to the shins by Savannah each time they rolled over on top of her. She presses condescending kisses to their bruises each morning, affectionately calling them her little wimps. It's not much, but they've got each other.
When Derek slides Spencer the key to their new home during a long, quiet jet ride home, his face breaks out into a wide, toothy smile. Everybody stares at them curiously for the ride home, but it's worth it when the pair sees the ecstatic, adoring look on their girlfriends' face. There's no furniture, but they make do just fine celebrating on the floor. It's not much, but they've got each other.
The neighbors don't understand when Savannah introduces Derek and Spencer as her boyfriends. She's got her hand intertwined with Spencer's while Derek's arm is thrown around her shoulder. Spencer's blushing profusely, glaring at Derek who just smirks proudly, then reaches down to smack his ass. Both him and Savannah giggle when he squeaks, smiling wide and unashamedly at the flustered neighbors. It's not ideal, but they've got each other.
They're all just big balls of stress at any given moment. Savannah comes home with sore feet, smelling like industrial strength disinfectant with a wiped expression on her face. Her eyebrows shoot to her hairline the moment she steps into the dining room to see Derek and Spencer grinning devilishly at her. Three places are set and red candles surround the table. The smell wafting from the kitchen is intoxicating and decadent, and Savannah's heart melts when she looks at her boys. They eat in a comfortable silence, save for Spencer's little squeaks each time Derek rubs his foot along his calf. When they finish, Derek and Spencer tell Savannah they'll meet her upstairs. She tells them not to have too much fun without her. No promises are made.
The way they make love is unique, eclectic, and beautiful. There are nights when it's slow and gentle, soft lips and hands roaming everywhere. Sometimes it's desperate, rushed, and primal, all pushing and shoving and begging. Sometimes it's just two of them - Spencer and Derek finding solace in one another after a hard case only they can truly feel the extent of, Spencer and Savannah going at it after a heated debate on literature, or Derek and Savannah seeking each other out to blow off the stress they know too well, usually preceded by gentle massages and extensive foreplay. But no matter what, when they're together, it doesn't matter if it's fast and hard, fervent and eager, or soft and tender; they've got each other.
Spencer finds out first. He has a dream. He's in a lush green yard littered with toys, a jungle gym and swing set off to the side. There's a little boy in front of him with a small inflatable basketball, grinning toothlessly and impossibly wide. He's clumsily throwing the ball back and forth with Spencer, eyes darting off to his left every now and then. When Spencer wakes up with a content smile on his face, he finds Savannah staring at him with the same expression. He wordlessly reaches out to touch her stomach, thumb brushing over it softly as he looks to her expectantly. She simply nods and places her hand over his before closing her eyes.
Derek sings to him every night, his and Spencer's hands on Savannah's swollen belly as his low, soothing voice fills the room. Savannah and Spencer read to him whenever there's a lull in the day. Savannah falls asleep against Derek's chest one night after he massages the kinks out of her aching back. The two men share a wide smile, their hands intertwined on Savannah's stomach. They look at each other in realization - they've got each other, all four of them.
They decide against a paternity test. There's no point, really. Spencer and Derek will always be Hank's fathers, just like Savannah will always be his mother, no matter what biology will say. He's a beautiful baby. That's all people will ever say about newborns, but Hank is breathtaking. His skin is exceptionally beautiful - a light, toasty caramel - and he's got a thick head of soft, curly hair already. The moment they placed him in Savannah's arms, his crying ceased and he looked at her with wide, trusting eyes. None of them could stop the happy tears from flowing at the sight of his little body curled up against his mother's chest as he contently suckled on Savannah's nipple. They all feel a surge of pride every time they look at him. They made him, all of them. No matter whose blood he has running through his veins, they all made him. It's everything, because they have each other.