believe

5. not the greatest situation

"Darling?" I mutter, barely awake, stood in the doorway to the bathroom as my wife leans over the sink and throws up. "Oh..morning, Chlo. How's the hangover?"

I laugh softly and walk behind her, lifting her chocolate locks up and holding them back. "It's great. In fact, it's so great that I'm more than sure I'm gonna have to use the sink after you."

Beca smiles and nods. "Of course."

"Hurry up, please," I cover my mouth and begin to gag. "I don't think I can keep it down much longer."

She steps back and leans against the wall. "Go for it. I don't think there's anything left in me to barf." Beca smiles, wiping her mouth with a tissue and gently rubbing my back as I throw up into the sink. "Usually it's me being like this."

"Well, for the next nine months you won't be able to be this hungover." I grin. "However you'll have so much time to throw up, it'll be like a constant hangover."

Beca groans and holds her head in her hands. "I never even thought about that." She mutters. "Well, now you are thinking about it."

"I'm aware." The tiny brunette looks down and puts a hand on her stomach. "This better not be an everyday occurrence, you little shit." She hisses. I laugh softly before grabbing a wipe out of the drawer and cleaning myself up. "Don't talk to my baby like that, Rebeca." I say.

She smiles and rests her arms on my shoulders. "Are you gonna stop me?" She mumbles, her breath hot on my face. "Maybe." "Oo, okayyy. Come on then. I'd love to see you try." She smiles.

"Are you seriously going to be like a horny teenager for this entire pregnancy?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Beca kisses my lips softly and smirks. "What if I am?" I lift her up carefully and carry her out of the bathroom, down the stairs and into the living room.

"I think Stacie is awake, I'm gonna go find her so you can't fuck me." I mutter. She rolls her eyes and pouts. "They fuck infront of us all the time! They're worse than me!"

I shake my head and laugh. "Atleast they're quiet."

Beca hits my arm and frowns. "Don't you dare, Chloe Elizabeth Mitchell. Oh God, that doesn't sound as cool as Beale, does it?"

"It's better than Beale. Because it's more obvious that I'm married to you."

"That wasn't as adorable as you intended, Chlo."

"God loves a trier."

Stacie stumbles into the living room and falls onto the couch, still half asleep and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

"Holy shit, you look a bit rough." Beca observes, stifling a giggle. Stacie shoots her a glare and pouts. "Don't even. You got anything to cure a banging headache and extreme nausea?"

Beca smiles and nods. "Finally, something I can actually help you with. You smoke?"

"Rebeca!" I gasp, slapping her arm gently. "You are pregnant. You can't just expose our unborn child to that." Beca shrugs and looks back at Stacie. "Well?"

The taller brunette shrugs and nods. "Why not. Bree isn't up yet, it can't hurt." Stacie replies. "There's a half full pack in the kitchen cupboard closest to the oven. I think Chlo left a lighter in that drawer over there, so go nuts."

I shake my head in disbelief and stare at Beca. "What? It makes people feel better!"

"Of course you would know. How are you supposed to last nine whole months without having a smoke?" I ask. Beca just shrugs and looks away from me. "I'll manage. I always do."