Chapter Text
Logically, Greta knows that this condo purchase is happening incredibly quickly. So much so that when Greta had told Jo that not only were she and Carson planning to move in together, but they planned to buy a place together, well… Jo had been more than a little concerned. But, as Greta had reasoned, they’d already agreed to raise a child together and that was a much bigger commitment than a condo. Plus, Greta had already started looking for a condo on her own before she’d even met Carson so the purchase wasn’t completely out of left field. And thank goodness for that! Because Greta had already started the process of working with a realtor and a mortgage broker, they’d been able to find a place they both liked and were under contract about a month after deciding to move in together.
And yet, Greta still couldn’t help but think fucking finally! when their settlement date rolled around just under a month after their offer was accepted. It would be difficult for anyone to be patient while waiting to have a place to call their own, but Greta found the wait absolutely maddening when there was so much to be done. Especially because her girlfriend’s ever-growing belly was a very visible reminder that they were on a deadline.
Carson had dealt with the wait by making, and remaking, countless lists. Things they wanted to change about the condo — those heavy shelves in the living room absolutely had to go as did the previous owner’s choice of paint. Then things they needed to purchase — spackle, sandpaper, paint, brushes, painter’s tape, drop cloths. And, of course, a separate list of nursery items. Even the order in which they should prioritize their projects — shelves, sand and spackle the holes, then paint. Greta loved Carson and every single one of her lists even though she mostly dealt with the anxiety by pacing or laying awake spiraling.
But today, it finally became official. They had done the final walkthrough with their realtor (whose gift of champagne and non-alcoholic cider were already chilling in their new fridge), signed what felt like an endless stack of papers at the title company, and were now pulling back into the condo parking lot as homeowners.
Carson had insisted they have a picnic on the floor of their empty condo to celebrate so Greta had thrown several pillows in the car — one for Carson to sit on and one for her back so she could comfortably lean against the wall. Greta grabs the pillows and the pizza from their new local, while Carson grabs the paper plates and cups.
Pausing at the door to their new home, Carson looks from Greta to the door to her own hand holding the cups and pinning the plates to her abdomen with a frown.
“What’s wrong?” Greta asks.
“I want to carry you across the threshold, but obviously,” Carson grumbles, gesturing to her stomach with the hand holding the keys, “that’s not possible right now.”
Greta smiles and leans down to place a soft kiss on Carson’s lips. “It’s okay, darling. I’ll take a rain check. And besides, you’re carrying something much more important right now.” Carson rolls her eyes, smiling, and unlocks the door, opening it for Greta to enter first.
It feels surreal, walking into the condo and knowing that this time, it’s actually theirs. Greta puts the pizza on the counter, drops the pillows on the floor, and starts turning on lights while Carson closes the door, putting the plates, cups, and keys on the counter.
Grabbing Carson’s hand, Greta gently pulls her into the middle of their open-concept dining/living room. Taking Carson’s face in her hands, Greta kisses Carson deeply, sliding her left hand along Carson’s cheekbone and into her hair. Carson matches Greta’s passion, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling Greta against her with a hand at her hip.
After a few moments Greta pulls back and smiles down at Carson. Walking around Carson so that she’s behind her, both looking around their new home, Greta envelops Carson’s shoulders in her arms.
“We did it, Carse.”
“We did. We’re homeowners.”
Greta shifts her hands to Carson’s stomach and spreads her fingers wide, Carson’s hands coming to rest on top of hers. Greta whispers, almost reverently, “We’re going to raise our baby here.” With tears in her eyes, Carson turns over her shoulder to capture Greta’s lips in another kiss.
Realizing their pizza is getting cold, Greta insists that Carson sit down and helps Carson lower herself to the floor, adjusting the pillows before fixing their plates. Handing the pizza to Carson, Greta moves to the fridge and pulls out the slightly-cooler-than-room-temperature apple cider, pouring it into two paper cups.
“Wait, why are you pouring two ciders?” Carson asks. “You should open the champagne.”
Greta shrugs as she hands both cups down to Carson and finally takes a seat herself. “I’d rather save it to have it with you after the baby comes,” Greta answers simply. Taking her cup from Carson, Greta says, “To us.”
Carson replies, “To new beginnings,” and touches her cup to Greta’s, adding, “clink” for good measure. Greta just shakes her head with a laugh.
They chat happily while munching on their slightly-too-cool pizza and sipping their slightly-too-warm cider. “Wait, so what did Vivienne say about the parking passes?” Carson picks up the thread of an earlier conversation — they had realized after their walkthrough with their realtor, Vivienne, that they never received the parking passes allowing them to park overnight in the condo’s parking lot. “I heard you talking about them but I was talking to the lawyer and missed it.”
“Oh, she said she texted the seller’s agent and will call the management company tomorrow morning,” Greta answers.
Carson sighs, “Hopefully they can work something out. That would be such a dumb reason to have to change our plans.”
They were planning to return tomorrow after work with a few carloads, including the air mattress, to spend the weekend. Getting their cars towed would put a real damper on their first weekend in their new home. Nevertheless, they continue making plans and pointing out new things they’re noticing about the space while they eat.
Greta finishes before Carson and just watches her girl with a small smile on her face. She loves the way Carson’s eyebrows knit together when she’s thinking. The way her hair falls in messy waves, framing her face. The way her eyes absolutely light up when she’s excited about something.
Eventually, Carson notices Greta staring and tilts her head curiously, “What?”
Greta smiles wider, “You’re really beautiful, you know that?”
Carson just looks at her incredulously.
“You are. Just take it.”
Carson rolls her eyes and looks away, but Greta also sees a blush creeping across her face and notices that she can’t quite contain a small smile.
*****
Have you heard anything from Vivienne?
The text from Carson doesn’t explicitly state it, but Greta knows she’s anxious about the parking passes. Truth be told, she is too, but she’s trying to project calmness for Carson’s sake.
Not yet. I’ll call her this afternoon if we haven’t heard by then
Ok thanks. Keep me posted
Of course. We’ll figure it out ❤️
❤️
After that, Greta gets back to work. Well, she tries. She tries to focus, but she had always known it was going to be a losing battle today. She manages to check a few small tasks off her to-do list before she finally gets the email they had been waiting for and immediately calls Carson.
“Did you see the email?” Carson asks without preamble as soon as she picks up.
“Yeah. So we just have to go meet this guy, the condo board president, what’s his face—”
“Vernon.” Carson supplies.
“Yeah him, at the pool this evening and he’ll bring the passes?”
“That’s what it sounds like.”
“That’s great!”
“Yeah. How about I reply and tell him we’ll meet him at eight? I want to give us a little extra time to get things settled tonight but we can probably be ready by eight, right?” Carson asks.
“Yeah that should be fine. Thanks, babe.”
“No problem. You’re still planning to leave work a bit early right?”
“Yep! Should be able to leave around four and then we can load up and head over.”
“Ok, see you then. Love you, Greta.”
“Love you too, Carse.”
*****
“Greta, are you about ready to go?” Carson calls from the kitchen where she is cleaning up their dinner of leftover pizza while Greta finishes setting up the air mattress in the bedroom. “Yep, just want to change into my suit,” Greta calls back.
Carson enters the bedroom with a confused look on her face, “Your suit?”
“Yeah, my swimsuit,” Greta clarifies.
“You packed your suit?”
“Yeah, I grabbed yours too. Do you want it?”
Carson looks at her like she’s grown an extra head. “Why?”
At this point Greta is starting to get confused too, “Because we’re going to the pool, Carse.”
“Yeah, but Greta, we’re going to pick up our parking passes.”
“Sure. No reason we can’t take a quick dip to cool off while we’re there, though. The whole reason we bought the suits is because we finally have a pool!”
“But Greta, it’s the condo board president! We need to make a good impression!”
“Okay, so I’ll wait until after he gives us our passes to go swimming. Although really, with all the moving stuff around in this heat, I might make a better impression after a swim.”
“Greta!”
“What? I’m serious!”
“We’re going to be late!”
“No we won’t! Just give me two minutes.”
Of course, Greta takes longer than two minutes, but Carson had also budgeted much more time than it actually took to walk to the community pool so they still arrive five minutes early, Carson stubbornly refusing to wear, or even take, her swimsuit to a “business meeting.” The lifeguard informs them that Vernon isn’t there yet, but should arrive shortly as he comes every night around this time to help out. So they wait. And wait.
Eight pm comes and goes and still, there’s no sign of anyone who could be Vernon. Judging by her leg that won’t stop bouncing, Carson is anxious, but Greta is annoyed. She’s hot, she’s sore from moving the stuff she wouldn’t let Carson lift or help with, and there’s an incredibly inviting pool right in front of her that’s just going to waste. Finally, she decides she’s done waiting.
*****
Carson startles when Greta suddenly stands without warning. “Wait, where are you going?”
“I’m going swimming,” Greta answers as she slips off her flip-flops.
“But Vernon will be here any minute!”
“Carse, he was supposed to be here ten minutes ago. I’m literally going to be right there, I’ll get out when he shows up.”
“But Greta, what about making a good first impression with the condo board president?”
Greta reaches down for Carson’s hand and squeezes, “Darling, I really don’t think he’s going to judge me for going swimming when he was the one who suggested we meet at a pool. But if you’re worried, you can pretend not to know me.” Greta gives Carson an impish grin and a wink. “I promise, I’ll be right there.”
Before Carson can muster any more arguments to try to convince Greta to wait until after they meet Vernon to go for a swim, Greta pulls her t-shirt over her head and shakes out her auburn hair. Carson hadn’t actually ever seen Greta in her suit. And it is in this moment that she realizes she was not remotely prepared. Greta is wearing a red bikini that perfectly matches her favorite shade of nail polish. And while Carson is still trying to remember how to breathe, Greta — whether coincidentally or intentionally, Carson can’t decide — turns away and bends over directly in front of Carson to remove her shorts, revealing the matching red bikini bottoms.
As if this display of unmatched beauty wasn’t enough, Greta glides to the deep end of the pool and executes a flawless dive into the water before swimming back over to the edge nearest Carson. Greta stands in the shallow water and slicks her hair back with both hands. Carson is transfixed as the motion accentuates Greta’s biceps and abs, her skin gleaming with water in the evening light.
*****
She wouldn’t admit it, but looking back afterwards, Carson didn’t have any clear memories of her conversation with Vernon. She definitely met him, they chatted briefly, and she somehow managed to get the parking passes, but she’s not entirely sure she could pick him out of a lineup if she tried. He was a man with a shirt.
No, her clearest memory of the evening was watching her absolute bombshell of a girlfriend pulling herself out of the water (her muscles again on full display) and standing at the edge of the pool, dripping wet in that tiny red bikini.
*****
Saturday is a busy day of chores at the condo. They take down several sets of shelves that they didn’t like, sand and spackle the sizeable holes that are left behind, clean and inventory their new storage closet (why is there a half-empty can of “Pumpkin Pleasure” paint??), and debate the relative merits of several paint swatches they had liked at Home Depot.
Over another picnic dinner (this time burritos in their folding camp chairs), Greta suggests, “How about we go for a swim this evening to unwind?” She’d expected Carson to jump at the idea — after all, Carson had been excited that the condo had a pool, they’d had a productive day, and they didn’t have any more “business meetings” this evening — but she’s surprised when Carson hesitates, “I don’t know…”
“Why not? I thought you loved swimming.”
“I do,” Carson starts, trying to articulate her feelings, “it’s just… I don’t know…”
Greta takes Carson’s hand in her own, “It’s okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“I guess it’s just… I’ve always been a bit self-conscious in a bathing suit. Everything is so… on display.” It’s almost as though Carson is sinking into herself as she speaks. “But when I tried on the suit at the store… it’s even worse now than it used to be.” Carson looks down at her free hand picking at a thread on her shorts and avoids eye-contact.
Greta rubs the back of Carson’s hand with her thumb. “I’m sorry, darling. I know it must be especially hard with all the changes your body is going through right now. For what it’s worth, Carse, I meant it the other day. You are really beautiful.” Carson briefly makes eye contact as if to check that Greta isn’t teasing her before quickly looking away again with a blush.
“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but I do think we could have fun. And I know how it can feel like you’re on display, but judging by last night, I doubt there will be that many people there at this time of night and they won’t be paying attention to us anyway.” Greta is trying to walk a fine line of not pressuring Carson but also seeing if she can help her get out of her own head a bit. “No one noticed or cared when we sat by the pool fully clothed doing nothing for fifteen minutes for no apparent reason.”
“I guess,” Carson agrees. “Maybe I’ll put my suit on after we finish and clean up here and see how I feel.”
“Sounds good,” Greta kisses Carson’s knuckles before letting go of her hand to finish their dinner.
*****
After dinner, Carson takes her bathing suit into their bathroom to change so Greta changes into her bikini in their bedroom. Greta steals a long shirt of Carson’s to wear as a makeshift cover-up and waits.
A few moments later Carson emerges from the bathroom in board shorts and a baggy t-shirt, scrubbing her hand through her hair.
“I don’t know about this, Greta.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m huge! Nobody wants to see this body in a swimsuit!” Carson exclaims, gesturing to herself.
“First of all, darling, you are exactly the size you need to be to protect and grow our little peach.” Greta places her hands on Carson’s sides and kisses her forehead, “You are growing an entire human right now, Carse! And you’re doing an amazing job! Second,” running her hands down Carson’s sides to her hips and then back and over her ass, “I for one absolutely do want to see this body in as little clothing as possible. If I didn’t think the pool would feel so good after the day we’ve had, I'd suggest we ditch all the clothing entirely and stay right here.” Carson blushes again. “And third, you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay? If you just want to dip your feet in or want to swim in your t-shirt or decide you don’t want to swim at all, that’s okay. But for the record, I really do think the cool water and weightless floating will feel amazing.”
Knowing how uncomfortable Carson has been as her pregnancy progresses, Greta can practically see the gears turning in Carson’s head at the mention of floating weightless in the water. “Fine, I'll come. But I’m making no promises that I’ll get in!”
“Totally fine.” Greta kisses the tip of Carson’s nose.
*****
When they get to the pool, Greta is relieved to see there are even fewer people there than the night before. She’s hoping that will help Carson feel comfortable enough to enjoy herself.
Greta deliberately leads the way to a couple of lounge chairs that are as far away from other pool-goers as possible and lays out her towel. Pulling off her cover-up, she glances over and sees Carson sit down, looking uncomfortable. Greta sits and reaches for Carson’s hand. “We don’t have to do this. We can sit here enjoying the evening for a few minutes and head back or go back right now.”
Carson looks at her in her red bikini and Greta thinks she sees a shift in Carson’s eyes. It’s not quite confidence she sees, but determination. “No. You were right, we wanted a pool. So let’s use the damn pool.”
Standing up, Carson removes her t-shirt. She’s wearing a black one-piece and black board shorts with green accents. Her hair is hanging loose to her now-exposed shoulders. My god!, Greta thinks.
Greta loves all versions of Carson. She had loved the strong arms, toned abs, and powerful thighs of the muscular catcher she had watched lead her team early in their relationship. But she also adores this Carson. The Carson carrying their child. The fuller breasts. The enhanced curve of her ass. The swell of her stomach. Fuck, Carson is gorgeous!!
With a grin at Carson, Greta leads the way to the edge and they both step into the cool water. They ease their way into the water as they acclimatize, Carson looking more relaxed with each step. When they get deep enough that the water is up to Carson’s chest she grins, “Oh my god, Greta you were right! I haven’t felt this good or this free in weeks! We are definitely doing this more!”
Greta smiles, “I thought you’d like it! And it’s much more fun when you’re in the water with me.”
Carson grabs her hand conspiratorially, “Come on! Let’s go deeper! I want to try floating entirely!” Greta just chuckles — she loves to see Carson this happy — and follows wherever her beautiful girlfriend wants to lead her.
*****
When they get home, Greta slips off her flip-flops and removes her now damp cover-up to hang it and her towel over the curtain rod in the guest bathroom to dry while Carson heads to their bathroom to change. Still in her bikini, Greta stops in the kitchen for some water before entering their room, wondering whether it’s too early to change into pajamas.
But all thought disappears as Carson comes out of their bathroom, wearing nothing but her favorite pair of loose boxers, holding the t-shirt in which she usually sleeps in her hand. “I’m glad you talked me into going swimming. You were right, that was exactly what we needed tonight,” Carson says, apparently unaware of the effect her sudden appearance is having on Greta.
Regaining the power of movement before the power of speech, Greta steps forward into Carson’s space. Splaying her hands on Carson’s bare hips, she says, “Carson Shaw, you have no idea what you do to me. Watching you take your shirt off at the pool tonight, I regretted letting you leave this room. Seeing you now, I don’t intend to make the same mistake twice.”
Carson swallows. Hard. “Me? You’re one to talk, walking around for the last two nights in that tiny bikini.”
“See something you like?” Greta scrunches her nose as she grins at Carson, whose eyes dart to Greta’s chest (still covered, barely, by the red fabric) and back up before she nods. “Good.” Greta very deliberately looks Carson up and down, her tongue in the corner of her mouth, “Me too.”
With just her thumb and index finger, Greta pinches the edge of the shirt that is still in Carson’s hands. She gently begins to pull it, asking, “Do we need this?” Carson shakes her head and releases the shirt. Greta drops it to the side and steps even closer, backing Carson against the wall, her hands coming up to cup Carson’s face.
Greta places a featherlight kiss on Carson’s mouth before pulling back again. Her voice barely a whisper, Greta asks, “Do you know,” a kiss to the tip of Carson’s nose, “what I thought,” a kiss to her upper lip, “when I saw you,” a kiss to the corner of her mouth, “tonight at the pool?”
“N-no,” Carson breathes.
“All I could think was how gorgeous you are.”
Finally, Greta allows herself to kiss Carson deeply. To fully taste her beautiful girl. Her hands are still on Carson’s face and she feels Carson’s fingers close around her wrists. As if she’s afraid she’ll stop. As if Greta could ever stop. As if Greta could ever let Carson go.
Eventually, when they both need to breathe, Greta pulls back just slightly. Carson’s lips chase Greta’s and they kiss again, needing each other more than air. Greta rests her forehead against Carson’s and lowers her hands to capture Carson’s hands in her’s. She pulls back enough to place a kiss on Carson’s knuckles, one on each hand. And then she raises Carson’s arms to the wall above her head, and captures her lips in another heated kiss.
Greta keeps Carson’s wrists gently pinned to the wall above her head with her right hand. With her left, she cradles Carson’s face, her thumb on Carson’s cheek and her fingers buried in her still-damp hair. “Is this okay?” Greta checks in.
Carson swallows and nods. “Yeah… uh, st-sturdy wall, g-good, yeah…”
Greta smirks at her adorable babbling girlfriend and kisses just below Carson’s left ear. Her jaw. Her pulse point. Carson’s head tips further back with each kiss, granting Greta access. Carson seems to have lost the ability to form words, but Greta doesn’t mind. The whimpers and moans she’s able to draw from Carson are some of the sexiest sounds she’s ever heard. She continues kissing slowly down Carson’s neck to her collar bone. She’s in no hurry.
Tonight, Greta is going to worship every inch of Carson the way she deserves.