Haven’t Met The New Me Yet

[malia]

Being a mother was incredible.

It was also exhausting, and hard, and confusing, and eye-opening, and frustrating, and wonderful, and life-changing.

Ava was the most perfect and amazing thing Malia had ever been a part of in her life. And doing this parent thing with Stiles, well…it was the only way she would ever want to do it. She loved him more now than she ever had before. She loved him in a way that she would never love anybody else in her life. He and Ava, they were her everything. She would have always done anything for him. But now, she would do anything for THEM. Absolutely anything.

He was so hard on himself when it came to the baby. She knew that he blamed himself for the accident with her umbilical chord, even though she absolutely didn’t. And she knew that he was still carrying around that guilt. She could smell it on him. She wished she could make him understand how good he was with Ava. How much she loved him. He was gentle and soft, sweet and tender. He seemed to know exactly what she needed when she needed it, almost as much as she did herself. He was always willing to get up in the middle of the night with her when she had to feed Ava, and he constantly tried to take those middle of the night diaper changes. He would sit up with her when she cried, even though neither of them could figure out what she was crying about. He would put her in her car seat and drive her around when there was even a slight chance that it might lull her to sleep. She knows that he’s a natural at being a father, even if he can’t see that himself.

But it was still hard. Really hard. Ava needed all of their attention almost all the time. She didn’t sleep more than two or three hours at a time before she needed to eat again, or just woke up crying. Her belly button had almost healed now, and they’d been giving her baths in the evening, but that took both of them every single time. For such a tiny little thing, she had totally upended their lives. And Malia can’t really remember what it was like before she was a part of them. She didn’t want to go back to that point. Everything about having Ava there and a part of their world felt right.

But Malia felt off. She hadn’t been depressed, not really. But dealing with her changing body had proven more upsetting than she’d been prepared for. She’d never been self-conscious. She’d always been confident in her body’s abilities and capabilities. But now, it was like she didn’t even know herself. Her breasts were almost always swollen and leaking. Her stomach still hadn’t returned to it’s pre-pregnancy flatness. And she was beginning to wonder if it ever would. She developed a new stretch mark every day. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was always a mess, and every time she saw her reflection in the mirror it was almost shocking. And for the first time since she’d become human again, she was uncomfortable for anyone to see her naked…including Stiles. The only time he saw her without clothing on was when she was nursing the baby, and even then she would immediately try to cover up again.

So when he walks in to the room after she’d just gotten out of the shower, she scrambles for a towel to wrap around her still wet body. She had to shower when Ava went down in the evening, hoping to get cleaned up and still have time to sleep a little before she woke up for her first nighttime feeding. Stiles had been out cleaning up the kitchen and she hadn’t expected him to walk into the room when he did. “I didn’t hear you coming,” she tells him sheepishly, pulling the towel tightly around her body as he gives her a confused look.

[stiles]

The house is quiet as Stiles loads the last of the dishes into the dishwasher, and it feels like a reward. Like they’ve received silence in exchange for surviving another day as new parents. There’s no crying baby, no motorized vibration keeping her asleep for as long as possible in the swing or the rocker, no sound of Malia’s singing or pleading with Ava to just stop fighting sleep. There’s only quiet. And he feels like he could cry tears of pure relief.

In the almost week and a half the baby had been in their lives, quiet had felt like it was in short supply. But if he lacked quiet, he had gained so much more. Like afternoons spent with the baby sleeping against his chest, and mornings laying beside Malia as she nursed Ava there between them. There were more walks around the block, and more evening car rides to try to lull Ava to sleep, and more Facetimes from the pack, just wanting to see the baby. And there’s more love than Stiles can even put into words. He’s never loved anyone the way he loves Ava. There are days when it feels impossible that he could feel this way about something so small and delicate, but every little things he does feels like the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. And the love that he feels for Malia has changed so much in such a small amount of time. He wants to give her the whole world, and that still doesn’t feel like it’s enough.

For everything he’s gained, he’d happily give up the peace and quiet.

He eases the dishwasher closed before starting it, turning off the lights as he moves from the kitchen to the living room, and then the living room to their bedroom. Already, they’ve settled into an evening routine with the baby - or, at least, an evening routine they’ll continue to replicate every night until Ava decides to rebel against it. After dinner, they’ve started giving her a bath every night in her tiny tub, followed by a tiny baby massage using the lavender lotion Lydia swore would help put her to sleep, and clean pajamas before Malia nurses her one last time. But it takes both of them to navigate bath time. Sometimes, it’s just a second hand to help juggle the slippery baby and the bottle of shampoo. Sometimes, it’s someone to try to distract her long enough to keep her from absolutely losing it after water gets in her eye or the edge of the washcloth scrapes against her healing belly button. Tonight, it had been the latter, making bath time feel far more stressful. He had been worried his residual stress would keep her from falling asleep, so he had left Malia to nurse her on their bed while he went back out to the kitchen to clean up.

But now, he walks into their bedroom to find the baby fast asleep in her tiny bassinet. He bends down to press a kiss to her tiny head, lingering there to watch her sleep for just a moment. With each passing day, it’s gotten a little bit easier to forgive himself for what happened with her umbilical cord, but there’s still a lot of guilt there. Guilt he feels as he takes in her tiny form for the millionth time, feeling his heart swell with that mixture of love and shame. He presses one more kiss to her head for good measure before finally grabbing pajamas from his dresser and heading for the bathroom.

He could hear the shower while he was checking on Ava, and he’s just a little disappointed when it turns off just as he heads for the bathroom. Stiles knows better than anyone that it’s best for them to sleep when Ava sleeps, squeezing every minute out of the 2-3 hours of uninterrupted sleep she’ll give them. But he had also been ready to join Malia in the shower. If she’s been weird about being naked around him, he’s missed it entirely, his attention consumed by the baby and his guilt and this adjustment to a new way of life. Still, he notices the way she startles as soon as he walks in, scrambling to cover herself up. He smirks, and it’s on the tip of his tongue to say You know I watched you give birth, right? But then he notices how truly rattled she looks.

“What? Did you think I was just some strange man waltzing into the bathroom?” he asks with that same smirk on his face. He sets down his pajamas, expecting her to drop the towel as that tension leaves her body. Instead, he looks up to meet her reflection in the mirror and realizes she looks like a deer caught in the headlights. “Oh. Hey,” he says as he turns around to face her. “I’m sorry I scared you.” She’s dripping wet, but he’s about to take his clothes off anyways, so he doesn’t think twice before he comes around her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He rests his head on his shoulder as his hands rest low on her belly, so different but no less amazing than it had been a few weeks ago “I really didn’t meant to freak you out.”

[malia]

She hated this. She hated feeling like this. She didn’t understand it. He knew her body intimately. Almost as well as he knew it herself. And she’d never been shy around him before, uncertain of the way she looked or what he thought of her. In fact, she didn’t think there was one time in her life when she’d ever really cared what anybody thought of her, not really. Not the way she looked at least. It just didn’t really matter to her. But all of the sudden if eels like the most important thing. She didn’t recognize her own body, she didn’t feel comfortable or confident in this body, not like the body she’d had before Ava. Not even like the body she’d had when she was pregnant that she had felt good in her body, felt right. Now, she doesn’t even like to see herself in the mirror. She pulls the towel more tightly around her, wet strands of hair plastered to her chest. “No,” she says shortly in response to his question. She knew it was him, that’s why she was so embarrassed. If it had just been some strange man, she would have killed him before he had a chance to look at her body, and before he had a chance to get to her baby. But this was Stiles, and she loved Stiles, and all of the sudden she didn’t love her body.

She wasn’t scared. She didn’t know what she was to be honest.

Before she can react, before she can even think about how she should react, he’s apologizing and moving to her side. She closes her eyes as she feels him wrap his arms around her, his chin resting on her shoulder in a familiar way as he lets his hands come to rest on her belly. She almost shrinks from his touch, reaching for his hands and pulling them away from her belly quickly. Before he could feel how different her body was now. “I’m all wet,” she tells him as an excuse, worming her way out of his grasp and reaching for another towel to dry her hair.

She wanted to cry. Of course, a lot of things made her want to cry these days. The baby, her body, exhaustion, anger, frustration. Yeah, just about everything honestly. She was beginning to wonder if she was losing herself in this new role. If the old Malia was gone, and the knew Malia was just this machine that made milk and smelled like baby drool and spit up. Couldn’t she be both? She was beginning to wonder if there was room for both. And maybe her comfort in her own skin was something that only the old Malia knew how to handle. She can tell he’s hurt by her quick dismissal and makes her heart feel heavy so she walks out of the small bathroom and immediately goes to the dresser to pull a shirt out so there’s no chance of her exposing anymore of her body to him.

[stiles]

She’s warm in his arms, and she smells like his shampoo. And it’s been so long since he’s held her like this, with her body pressed against his. He turns his head to kiss her neck…

And suddenly, she’s pushing his hands away and pulling her body away from him. It happens so quickly, Stiles’s brain doesn’t even register what’s happening until she’s already out of the bathroom. She physically removes herself from his embrace, she tells him she’s all wet, and then she’s just gone. She grabs a second towel and heads out the door without ever turning back to look at him. And he’s left standing there in her wake, empty-handed and dumbfounded.

He stares at the empty doorway long after she’s disappeared through it. The instinct to go after her and follow her into the bedroom is strong, but the sting of her dismissal is stronger in that moment. It’s not like her to shy away from his touch. In fact, he’s spent far more time gently pushing her hands away as he tries to explain why now isn’t the time for any level of intimacy. So he’s surprised by how much her rejection hurts. He strains his good ear, trying to make sure that he didn’t somehow miss the baby fussing in the next room, but it’s silent, and that only seems to make his chest hurt more. There’s an added layer of embarrassment, too, and he tries to swallow it down as he finally looks away from the empty doorway. For whatever reason, she hadn’t wanted him to touch her tonight, and his brain automatically registers her rejection as his fault. So now, he’s wet and hurt and embarrassed and alone in their en suite. What a winning combination.

Stiles wracks his brain as he strips off his wet t-shirt and sweatpants to pull on his pajamas. He goes through every part of their day, every small moment trying to find the one where he pissed her off. But today has been pretty normal - or as normal as their second week of live with a newborn can feel. She had seemed like herself that morning when they had taken the baby for a walk around the block before the neighbors were even up. And when they had fallen asleep together on their bed in the middle of the day when Ava went done for a nap. She had nursed the baby in the kitchen while he heated up dinner that night, sitting at the island and talking to him while she fed the baby. And they had put the baby to bed like always. Or at least, right up until the moment he had told her he was going to go straighten up the kitchen and left her to nurse the baby in peace. There’s nothing. Nothing at all.

He changes quickly before stopping to brush his teeth. But by the time he finally leaves the bathroom, Malia is already in one of his t-shirts and in bed. Her knees are bent towards her chest, and she has the covers pulled up to just below her breasts. At first, she’s distracted by the baby, her brows furrowed as she smooths down the baby’s hair and presses a tiny kiss to her cheek. But then, her eyes dart over to him and away just as quickly, and he can tell she’s avoiding eye contact with him.

He rests his hands on his hips as he stands there for a minute, unsure of what to say to her, mostly because he’s not even sure what the issue is to begin with. And then his restless hand slowly creeps up as he rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Did I do something?” he finally blurts out, asking her the question that’s still plaguing his mind. “Because it feels like you’re mad at me.”

[malia]

She aches as she leaves him behind there in the bathroom. It had felt so good, so right, to be in his arms again. But what if the moment he holds her for just a little too long he realizes how different she is now that she’s had a baby, or if he’ll even still want her. He’d left her before for somebody else who was a lot more put together and a lot more predictable. She didn’t even know herself right now, why would he still want her?

So as soon as she’s covered up in one of his t-shirts, she climbs into bed, kissing Ava’s cheek as she does. She immediately pulls her knees to her chest, pulling the blanket up and over her legs. She knows Stiles. She knows him better than she knows herself right now. And she knows that he’s going to be immediately back in the bedroom asking her why she’d pulled away from him so quickly. But the thing is, he’s not. He doesn’t immediately follow her back into the bedroom. In fact, he doesn’t follow her at all. Thanks to her supernatural hearing, she can keep track of everything he does in the other room. Slowly taking his clothes off and dressing again. Running the water and splashing off his face. The humming of his electric. Toothbrush as he brushes his teeth. All very familiar end of the night routines for him. All things that he did almost every single night.

She purposefully avoids his gaze as he does walk into the bedroom, attempting to smooth down a little patch of unruly hair on the baby’s head. It’s so soft, so sweet, there are times when she thinks that she’d be happy just spending the rest of her life enjoying the feeling of touching their baby, of holding her in her arms. He doesn’t move, and she can feel his eyes burning a hole through her, and she still doesn’t look up to meet them. She doesn’t know how to explain what she’s feeling, and she doesn’t know how to make him understand without clueing him in to the fact that everything is different now and she’s not sure she knows how to be this person. It’s not until he pulls his hands away from his hips, one of them moving behind his neck as he nervously rubs at the skin there. It was a habit of his, something he did without even realizing it anytime he was feeling anxious or just a little uncertain about things.

She finally looks up, his gaze sad as he looks at her. Not angry, not disgusted. Just sad. “No,” she tells him honestly, her answer short only because she doesn’t think she has anything else to say about it. He hadn’t done anything. In fact, it had been a really nice day. They’d even gotten a little nap which had made both of them feel better. “I’m not mad at you at all.”

He furrows his brow, moving closer to the bed and sitting down, keeping plenty of distance between the two of them as he does. Now that he’s beside her, she doesn’t take her eyes off of him. She can feel the discontent radiating from him.

And then she comes up with the oldest line in the book because, for once, it’s really true. “It’s not you…it’s me.”

[stiles]

Malia doesn’t lie. After a decade of knowing her, he knows that she just doesn’t see the point. Everything about her has always been straightforward, so when she tells him that she’s not mad at him, he knows that she’s telling him the truth. But that does little to help his confusion. It’s not like her at all to pull away from him. She thrived on physical touch. And their relationship had just always been very physical. It’s much harder to pinpoint moments when they weren’t touching in some way, shape, or form, than it is to point to a moment when they had been touching. In fact, it’s not until this moment now that Stiles even realizes how little they’ve touched since bringing Ava home. Surely, there had been a handful of kisses, a hug or two, a soft hand on his arm or his thigh. But… he’s honestly not sure. What he does know is that Ava has been their sole focus, monopolizing all of their time and energy. And he knows they’ve both been so tired, by the time they collapse into bed at night, they’re both usually out before they can find a comfortable position wrapped up in each other. Aside from the occasional assist with breastfeeding, he can’t name a specific time when he did touch her.

Which really makes this that much harder: if he hasn’t been touching her, this might not be an isolated incident at all. Maybe it’s just a coincidence that he touched her today.

His confusion shows on his face as he lets his hand fall away from his neck. Stiles moves closer to the bed, but stops short of climbing in beside her. There’s something about her that feels a little distant in the moment. Maybe that’s not the right label for it. There’s something about her that feels like she wants distance, so he sits on the edge of their bed, keeping space between them. Malia finally looks at him then, still looking a little like a deer caught in the headlight. His first instinct is to pull her closer, but there doesn’t seem to be a worse idea in the world. So he’s stuck just sitting there, staring back at her until she suddenly opens her mouth again.

It’s not you, it’s me.

The cliche of it all is lost on him as his brows furrow a little more tightly together. What did that mean? It’s the line that ended a million relationships before theirs, and his heart is in his throat, keeping him from being able to ask if this means she wants to end things. His brain can’t even handle reasoning through that possibility, so he swallows down that lump in his throat and tries to ignore that nagging fear.

His brain does keep coming back to that moment when she pushed his hands away, like she didn’t want him near his body, so he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “You know I know we can’t have sex… right?” he asks. His body hums with that same nervous energy again. He wants her - desperately wants her. Ava’s existence seemed to make him want her more than he ever had before. But he’s also aware of the fact that she’s still very much healing. And there’s relief when she nods quickly, reassuring him that she knows he knows that. But it still doesn’t help to clear up any of his confusion. “Then what do you mean, it’s you?” he asks as he shifts, angling his body towards her, but still keeping that distance. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

[malia]

It hurts to have him so close to her on the bed, knowing that he doesn’t feel like he can come any closer. That he doesn’t feel like he can touch her. It hurts not to immediately crawl into his arms and kiss his lips, laying down with him as she pulls him into her arms. And all of the sudden, she’s angry. Angry at herself, angry at her body for keeping them apart like this. She needed him, and she was hurting him. She could see it in his eyes as he looks at her then, not understanding her words anymore than she really understands them herself. Not understanding them any more than she understands her own feelings right now. She had never been more of a stranger to herself than she had been since she’d given birth to Ava.

She’s not expecting him to bring up sex, so she starts briefly when he does. They both knew that it was off limits per Nat’s orders and the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. She still thought it was a stupid rule, but she also couldn’t deny the fact that she knew her body wasn’t completely healed. There was still pain sometimes, and the bleeding had never really stopped, not yet. So thinking about been part of this at all. “I know you know,” she tells him softly, fighting with her brain internally as she tries to figure out how to say this, how to explain it. He scoots closer, and she doesn’t try to pull away from him when he does. Even as his arm brushes against her thigh. She closes her eyes, furrowing her brow in frustration. It was moments like this when she could become the most angry at herself for how difficult it was for her to find the right words at the right time. For how hard it seemed for her to be able to explain herself, even to Stiles whom she loved more than any other person in the world.

“I don’t know,” she mumbles finally, frustration evident in her voice as she looks at him helplessly. His gaze is worried as he takes her in, and she can smell the rising anxiety as he begins to worry that something is actually wrong with her. “No, nothings wrong,” she assures him finally, not wanting him to get any more upset than he already was. “It’s my body,” she mumbles, pulling the blanket a little more tightly around herself. “It’s different. I don’t think it’s ever going to go back to the way it was before.” She sighs, knowing that her explanation isn’t much of an explanation at all. What she really meant was, what if he didn’t like her body anymore? What if he was as confused about it as she was? What if he didn’t want her anymore? It was unfamiliar and foreign, just like these feelings were. “I don’t know,” she finally says in frustration. “I don’t even recognize myself.”

[stiles]

His heart races a little as she worries her bottom lip and closes her eyes in concentration. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is the moment he worried about on and off for nine months, only to forget he had ever worried at all the second Ava was in the world. But now they’ve been home so much. They’ve barely left the house at all, minus the daily walks they had taken with Ava. He had run every errand so far while she stayed back with the baby. And maybe that restlessness had settled beneath her skin. Maybe this is the moment she finally tells him she can’t stay stationary anymore. Or maybe it’s taken this long for it to truly sink in that the reason they ended up in the ER was because he had been careless with Ava’s tiny body. Maybe she’s realized she can’t stay with someone who had hurt her baby, and this is when she packs up the baby and leaves. Or maybe it’s more serious than that. His chest feels a little tighter at the thought.

And when Malia does finally look back over at him and start with It’s my body, he feels nauseous for a second. There’s something that’s still scary about this part after delivery, when they’re home with no real guidance and her body is still recovering from a major event, and they’re supposed to still just go about their normal lives. But when Malia elaborates, realization dawns on him immediately. She pushed his hands away because he had touched her. His hands had just barely grazed her soft belly, and she had wrenched herself free from his embrace because her body had changed. Even if he hasn’t touched her, this isn’t news to him. Her hips have been wider since halfway through her pregnancy, her curves a little softer. Her belly has gone down significantly, but it’s still not as flat as it had been last December when he found her naked in the middle of the preserve. He’s noticed the stretch marks on her breasts when she nurses the baby, and he became intimately familiar with the ones around her belly button before Ava was born. Her breasts have been swollen and hard and leaking, and sometimes completely lopsided when Ava only feeds from one side before drifting off to sleep.

He took note of all of it, knowing her body well enough to notice every change. But it never crossed his mind that this was something she was dealing with too.

Stiles is quiet as her voice trails off again as she admits to not really knowing herself anymore. He’s quiet as he moves so he’s laying down on his side of the bed on his side, his head resting in his hand, propped up by his elbow. Because all he wants to do in that moment is touch her, but his brain knows that there’s probably nothing worse he could do in that moment. It’s not like Malia to be insecure about her body. All through her pregnancy, her changing body hadn’t been a concern, save for that one day when her clothes had stopped fitting, but even that had been about shopping and not the way she looked. No one he knew was as comfortable in their own skin as Malia was. But now, she feels like a stranger in her own body, and he has no idea what that feels like. Parenthood happened to both of them, but this is something she has to go through alone, just like pregnancy and birth.

Malia’s eyes fall away from his as her gaze shifts to the baby, and then down to her lap. She takes a section of the comforter between her finger and her thumb, moving it back and forth as she’s still silent, her words still heavy between them. He wants to tell her that he loves her body now, that he loves every change, that he still recognizes who she is. But he knows already it won’t be helpful to tell her that he recognizes here still. She’s never one to admit to how she feels, so he can’t mess this one up. “Do you want it to go back to the way it was before?” he finally asks softly

[malia]

She watches him as he lays down on the bed parallel to her, resting his head against his hand as he gazes at her. She doesn’t feel comfortable with what she’s said, or about talking about this, even now when it seemed so much easier to tell him things. But as soon as she does, it’s like all of the tension that she had caused to build up between them just evaporates. She still can’t look at him, not sure she wants to see the disappointment on his face if he really is disappointed with the way she looks now. She sighs, frustrated with herself, which seemed to be a common theme of her life these days. She looks back at Ava, sleeping beside them in her little bassinet. She was so much a part of her, and so much a part of him, and Malia loves her fiercely. And she knew that it didn’t matter what her body looked like now, she would do it all again for Ava. She would do anything for Ava. And she would do anything for Stiles. They were her family.

So she’s quiet as she considers his question, just relieved that the fear and anxiety that was starting to build up inside of him seems to be dissipating.

“No,” she finally says honestly. “Because then we wouldn’t have Ava.”

She meant that, she really and truly did. But that also didn’t automatically make her feel more comfortable in this new body. In the unfamiliar and the things she didn’t recognize. The things that she knew would never go back to the way they were before. And it also didn’t mean that he would like her body int his new, post-baby, form. And maybe it was the uncertainty of not knowing that was making her so unsettled.

“But what if you want it to go back to the way it was before?” She asks him, finally pulling her eyes away from her lap and looking back at him.

[stiles]

Stiles hears Malia's sigh, and he has to bite down hard on his tongue to keep from saying anything. He knows her well enough by now to know that she's struggling to find the right words. And as much as he wants to help her, he doesn't want to fill in that blank for her. Because he has no idea how this feels for her, but he wants to.

Lydia had struggled with her body. She never came out and said that, but he had noticed the way she would move his hands sometimes, like some parts of her body were off limits even to him. He had watched her pour over nutrition labels like she had to memorize them and change her clothes three times before they went out. But Malia had always been the antithesis to Lydia in every way. It was the whole reason he and Lydia had never worked together, and now he and Malia were cohabitating with a baby. With Lydia, he had stayed silent, knowing it was best to pretend he didn't notice. But Malia is opening up to him right now in a way she hasn't ever before.

And Lydia never had a baby.

There's a rush of relief he didn't expect to feel when Malia's gaze falls on the baby and she tells him that she wouldn't want to change having Ava. It's not until she says it that he realizes a part of him worried that this went deeper, that maybe she resented him or the baby, or at least regretted some of the choices they had made that led to this moment. But that relief is short lived when she looks back over at him, asking her next question.

"I don't," he says quickly, eyes wide. "Why would you...?" The look on her face stops him before he can finish that sentence. She's staring back down at her lap again, not meeting his gaze. It's the way she looks when she feels like she's failed at something human. He sits up again, craning his neck to try to meet her gaze. "Mal, I love this body," he tells her, praying she hears the sincerity in his voice. "This body gave me Ava. I think your body is incredible. Honestly. I love this body more than I loved your body before."

[malia]

He’s immediately flustered again as soon as he hears her question. His eyes grow wide and the look on his face makes her feel as though she’s physically hurt him. It’s why she has to pull her gaze away from his again and look back down at her lap. This feeling was just so confusing. And if it was confusing to her, who was to say it wouldn’t be confusing to him too? He hadn’t seen her body since she’d given birth, not really. Maybe a few times, but never in a way that made her feel like he wanted her. And never in the way that it felt when they had sex. She didn’t know what he thought. Maybe that was normal, for your mate to feel differently about you after delivering a baby. Or maybe…maybe this was all in her head.

She knows that some of it must be. But even though she has that realization, it doesn’t make it any easier for her to convince herself that it might not be true. That everything she’s feeling isn’t just the result of the hormonal and physical trauma that her body has just gone through, and its still going through as it adjusts to not being pregnant and caring for their baby in a new way.

She looks at him as he scrambles awkwardly to sit up, ending up in the most awkward position that she can tell isn’t comfortable for him. But he stays right where he is, never taking his eyes off of her as he speaks. And she hates it, but she can feel her eyes welling up with tears when he does. It’s just, she needed to hear this so much. He didn’t understand how much she needed to know that even after the baby, he still wanted to be with her. That he still wanted her as much as she wanted him, though his body hadn’t changed at all.

And then he tells her he loves her body even more now than he did before, and whatever floodgates were holding back her tears seem to crumble and she can see him get blurry as they spill over the edges and fall down her cheeks. She loves him so much. She’d loved him before Ava, but now she feels so strongly she’s not even sure it could still be considered love. She doesn’t know what it is. She needs him. She lives for him. She would do anything for him. And right now, all she wants to do is to kiss him.

So she does. She leans forward, pressing her lips to his as her hands come to rest on his cheeks. “I love you,” she tells him, resting her forehead against his, even though he’s still craned in that awkward position. “I love you so much I don’t even know how to tell you how I feel.” And she wants him to know this new body, as intimately as she and Ava do. All of the sudden it seems like the most important thing to her. So she reaches for his hand, bringing to her belly and holding it there, guiding it up to her swollen breast, letting him explore all of the new curves that she still didn’t have memorized.

[stiles]

She’s staring at him still, so Stiles notices her tears immediately, and he has no idea how he fucked up this much.

At least, at first, he has no idea how he fucked up this much.

It had felt like the right thing to say, the only thing to say to her. And he had meant every word. He had loved her body when she was pregnant. Hell, he’d only ever admit it to Scott, but he felt like he had spent all of her pregnancy at least half hard, he had loved her body so much. And he had been amazed by her body in a way he’d never be able to describe when he watched her give birth. And now… Now, he revered her body. Now, he wanted to memorize every tiny stretch mark the baby and now nursing had left on her body. He wanted to put his hands on all of her new curves until he knew them by heart. He had wanted alone time with her swollen breasts for… well, for as long as Ava had been in the world. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that he knew her nipples were scabbed, and her breasts were incredibly sore. But at no point in the process to become parents had he stopped wanting her.

He’s just about to stumble all over himself when she suddenly leans forward. For a split second, his instinct is to lean back, away from her and her hormones that he doesn’t know how to predict, and then her hand is soft on his cheek, and she’s kissing him, and he feels himself relax into her immediately. God, he had missed this. Most of their kisses had been chaste since the baby’s arrival, a quick hello or goodbye before he ran out for diapers or nursing pads or takeout. But he’s missed this kind of kiss as her tongue gently parts his lips, that part of her still very much the same. And he misses her the second she pulls away, her eyes wide with sincerity as she insists that she loves him, loves him more than she knows how to explain. He knows that exact feeling.

“I love you, too,” he tells her. “More than I ever have before.” It scares him already, just how much he loves her. Or at least, it scares him now that his mind went to her leaving tonight, and he’s now reminded of that possibility. He’s not sure he’d know how to function without her now, and that terrifies him. But for now, he lets her take his hands, bringing them to rest on her middle. Her belly is soft now beneath his hands. She had still looked pregnant when they left the hospital, but the swelling has gone down significantly now. Still, her middle isn’t as flat as it was before the baby, or as flat as it will be again, but there’s still a lump in his throat at the thought of Ava having grown inside Malia, just beneath his hands.

And then she moves his hands to her breasts, folding her hands around his as she molds his hands to cup her breasts. They fill his hands in a way they never have before, and it drives him just a little crazy, but he’s still careful to keep his hands soft against her. He gently moves one of his thumbs over her nipple, the way he has a million times before, like now it might be made of glass. He can feel the weight of her gaze on him, like he might change his mind at any second and pull away, but all he wants is to have her closer. He keeps his hands on her breasts, leaning in to kiss her again, this time with just a little more urgency.

[malia]

His hands are soft against her, gentle in a way that she’s not sure she’s ever felt them before. Like he’s afraid if he touches her too much, or too hard, she might break. She doesn’t recognize a lot of things about this new body, and she’s not sure she loves it, but she knows she’s not going to break. That much she’s pretty certain of. So she holds his hands there in case he’s tempted to pull them away again, and all of that uncertainty begins to fade away. She watches as his breath catches, his eyes drawn to her, the familiar way that slight flush of desire quickly spreads a cross his cheeks. And maybe it shouldn’t, maybe she should’ve been able to work this out on her own, but it makes her feel better. It makes her feel GOOD. She bites her bottom lip as he moves his thumbs over her nipples, closing her eyes briefly as she wills herself to ignore the way it stings a little. She needs this. Her nipples had been dry and cracked since she’d started nursing, and none of the cream that they’d tried had worked yet. It made the process of the baby latching painful and unpleasant, but once they got past that initial moment it was mostly fine. She still loved nursing, loved everything about it. Just as much as she loves everything about Stiles touching her. It makes the slight stinging worth it.

When he kisses her again, there’s a hunger there that she’s all too familiar with. She can feel it inside of herself too, between her legs, deep in her belly. She knows they can’t do this. They can’t be together. She’d given birth not even two weeks ago. Her body was still healing. But that didn’t mean that it stopped wanting him. She leaves his hands to their own devices against her breasts, letting her own come to rest on his thighs as she leans into the kiss, biting his bottom lip as they finally part.

“I wish we could be together,” she mumbles, her lips only centimeters from his still. She needed him. Maybe that was part of the problem. It wasn’t like them to go very long without sex and even though it had happened before, this was going to be the longest they’d gone since she’d come back. And the thought of it seems daunting, especially because her body is responding to him so urgently now. And there are still weeks ahead of them. Weeks where the only touching they can do will be like this, leaving them both wanting way more.

And almost as if she can sense things in the room getting headed, feel the tension in her own little body, Ava shakes them out of this trance by whimpering. Malia is familiar with the sound. She’s hungry, and within only a few minutes that whimpering will turn into a full blown meltdown which will make it almost impossible to calm her down enough to nurse. She doesn’t mean to, but she sighs, almost frustrated by the baby’s neediness for the first time since she’d become a mother. Some parts of her would never change she supposes. She loves Ava, more than anything. She would die for Ava, kill for Ava, but sometimes she just wanted a few minutes to kiss Stiles. As if he’s almost mortified that they’ve been caught by their infant daughter who can not only not see what’s happening but is two weeks a newborn and has no concept of what’s going on around her. He pulls his hands from her breasts as if they burn him and she can already feel the way her milk is soaking into the t-shirt she’s wearing at just the sound of the baby’s rustling.

She turns away from him so she can lift Ava in to her arms, lifting the baby to her mouth so she can press a soft kiss to her head. “Are you hungry?” She asks softly, letting her finger run along the baby’s tiny lips. Ava twists her face into an angry pout, her cheeks turning red as she prepares herself for a real cry of unhappiness at the fact it’s taking so long to get what she wants. Malia leans back against the headboard, pulling the shirt off and tossing it to the side as she pulls Ava to her breast, tickling her lip slightly to get her to latch, something that’s become almost completely unnecessary. Ava was a good nurser, and she knew what she wanted when she wanted it. She immediately takes Malia’s nipple into her mouth and her breath catches as that familiar stinging sets in. Ava’s hungry and she immediately begins to eat with a desperation that will become adorable eventually. And Malia sighs as the pain begins to subside and the comfort of the baby relieving some of the pressure from her breast settles in.

[stiles]

It feels good to have her this close again. Her lips against his, her breasts against his palms. It feels like it’s been both five minutes and five years since he’s been this intimate with her. And maybe that’s the problem. It’s a fleeting thought he has before her palms fall to rest innocently enough on his thighs, and he feels himself start to become aroused. Maybe their biggest problem is that they developed this brand new routine without leaving any time for them, just them, together. Ava is incredible, and amazing, and truly, [i[truly[/i] the best thing he’s ever done in his life. But she came into their world and immediately settled in, monopolizing every moment. Which is probably why this moment right now with Malia is the most he’s felt like himself in a week and a half. Her body is different, she’s different, and yet, she’s still the most familiar part of tonight.

He moans softly against her mouth when she bites down on his bottom lip, tugging slightly as she pulls away. At the sound of her words, he feels that familiar stirring in his own belly, his body very much responding to her. “Fuck, me too,” he half whispers, half groans in response. In all honesty, he’s wanted to be with her in a way that made him feel desperate. It’s something about Ava being in the world, something about how much his love for Malia has grown in such a small amount of time. And yet, there’s never been a time when he’s felt more like he couldn’t touch her. He’s more than willing to wait until she’s healed, and then until she feels ready to be with him again, but it doesn’t change the fact that he aches to be with her.

Before either of them can make a decision they’ll surely regret, though, Ava lets out a tiny whimper from her bassinet. Stiles startles at the sound, and his hands immediately fall away from her breasts, like the baby has caught them in the act somehow. In reality, he had honestly forgotten she was right there, sleeping soundly beside their bed. A few months from now, he wouldn’t think twice about quietly slipping inside of Malia while the baby slept soundly a few feet away, but tonight, he startles, like Ava has somehow seen too much. If Malia notices, though, it doesn’t seem to bother her as she turns her attention to the bassinet, lifting the baby into her arms. And Stiles takes it as an opportunity to shift on the bed, subtly trying to adjust himself. His boxers are unforgiving, his arousal obvious as he settles in beside her again.

His body is already starting to get the memo that things are slowing down for the night when Malia gets the baby to latch. There’s a moment when she lets out one frustrated cry, but then she’s nursing, drinking greedily from her mama. Stiles turns his attention back to them as he lets his head fall back against the headboard, watching the way Malia brushes the baby’s cheek with the back of her hand and the baby’s tiny fist rests against Malia’s milky skin. “See?” he says softly, gesturing towards Ava. “What did I say? Your body is incredible.” He means it in that moment. It’s been a week and a half but he still feels a little sad when he misses out on a nursing session. There’s no real way to describe the bond that she shares with the baby, one that he’ll never truly understand. And there’s something equally incredible about the fact that her body had help make their daughter, grew her and kept her safe, and now nourishes her without ever pausing along the way.

He brings his hand to rest behind his head as he continues to watch them. They’re both quiet, both of them focused on the tiny baby for a long, quiet moment, before he finally speaks again. “You know, maybe we need a night just the two of us,” he says, saying the words as he thinks them, before he’s fully formed the thought. Malia’s head lifts, her eyes curious as she looks back over at him. “Like a date. Maybe we need a date.”

[malia]

She feels good. Better than she has since they’d brought Ava home. She feels like things make sense again with her body, at least a little more than they had that morning when she’d woken up. She relaxes into the bed as Ava continues to nurse, her eyes wandering to Stiles enough to see the way he strains against his boxers and she smiles slightly, knowing that things are going to be okay. She didn’t know why she needed the reassurance. She never had before. But she does, and right now, she feels good. She feels like maybe she can learn to live with this new body. Maybe even love it. Especially if he loves it still.

He’s quiet as he watches them, both of them relaxing with the silence in a way that they both needed. She know that she’d made them both anxious tonight and they were too exhausted to deal with a lot of that. All three of them. She knew without a doubt that Ava could already pick up on their emotions, especially hers. It made her very aware of the impact of her feelings around the baby. She looks over at him when he comments on her body again, reaching for his hand and lacing her fingers through his. They sit like that for a few more moments, both of them just relishing the sweet sounds that the baby made when she was nursing. They were soft and familiar and really, really cute. She wishes they could film every single moment of this time with her because even though she’s not always good at cherishing human things, or human emotions, she knows that this time with Ava being tiny will go by way too fast for both of them and eventually they’ll be looking back and wondering what happened. Where their little baby girl had gone.

He catches her off guard when he speaks again. She pulls the baby from her breast as she looks over at him curiously. She lifts Ava to her shoulder, patting her back firmly as the baby nuzzles her face against her shoulder. She thinks about Stiles words and she hesitates. Not because she doesn’t want to go out with him, or because she doesn’t want to spend time with him. But the thought of leaving the baby without her, makes her feel a little sick to her stomach. She’d never been away from her. Stiles had held her in other rooms, but they’d always been together the two of them. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to walk away. But she also knows that they desperately need what he’s talking about. And it’s not like there aren’t people she’d trust with the baby. People like Noah or Melissa. Braeden and Derek. Even Scott. But that doesn’t make the thought of leaving her any easier. She pulls Ava from her shoulder, settling her at her opposite breast so she can hopefully nurse a little longer. She looks back at him, a smile on her face as she does. “I’d like that,” she tells him honestly. Just because it would be hard to leave the baby didn’t mean she wanted to do it any less. “I’d really like it.”

These first few weeks had been hard, really hard. And she felt a distance from herself that she wasn’t really sure how to deal with. But they were going to be okay. They could figure this out together.