jim street oneshots

pet [ ❥ ]

It's late when Jim finally gets home. Really late, like so late that he can hear your snores all the way from the front door. And for some strange reason, it's the most comforting noise he's heard all day.

Creeping through the house as soundlessly as he can is a challenge. Every thump of a boot against the hardwood floor and every jangle his keys let out at he placed them gingerly in the countertop are exacerbated by the noiseless-ness of the night, leaving him wincing and groaning internally at every noise he produces.

But he manages it, and after a few painstaking minutes he's slipping in through the ajar door to your bedroom. Well, whether it's yours or his is a pointless distinction at this stage - you'd gone from creeping in and out of each other's rooms for fear of being caught to basically living in each other's pockets so long ago that it didn't really seem important.

You're asleep, as expected. Laying on your side in the middle of the bed, legs intertwined with the blankets and your face shoved into the pillows - his pillow. Even in sleep your arms are wrapped around it, tugging it closer when you feel it begin to slip out of your grasp.

It takes him a minute but he manages to tear his eyes away. He makes quick work of his clothes, undressing till he's left only in his boxers as he finally approaches the bed and pulls back the covers.

You whine out softly as the cold air comes into contact with your skin, but Jim shushes away your sighs as he slips into the bed next to you. The bed springs squeak and dip up his weight as he settles in, allowing himself to slip into your embrace with a sigh of relief.

You give a muffled attempt at a 'hello', but it's lost when you press your face into the crook of his neck. Your lips are ticklish as you smile into his skin, savouring the warmth of his body against yours.

"Hey, baby." He croons, voice soft as he drapes his arm over your waist in the same way yours are over his shoulders. Lithe fingers trace shapes into the skin of your back through your t-shirt and you shiver at the sensation, pushing you further into Jim's embrace - much to his delight.

"Y'okay?"

It's so soft he almost misses it, whispered into the skin of his neck as you play with the hairs at the base of his skull. Your hands are gentle as they splay out over the explained of his shoulder blades, preemptively feeling for the bruises and marks that've become regular occurrences to find on his body when he comes home to you.

He hums noncommittally, choosing instead to drift one hand down to your clothed hip in an attempt to pull you even closer under the covers. He thinks he's gotten off easy until you give a chastising click of your tongue and pull away from him to look him in the eye.

As dark as it is in the room, in the dim light provided by the crack in the door there's no way he could miss the look in your eyes.

"I'm okay." He's already shuffling closer to you in search of your warmth again, not giving you the time to process any annoyance with him. "Now that I'm home."

There's a beat and Street's begun to think that he's pushed the boundaries of your forgiveness, before you let out a defeated groan and snuggle back into him. "You're lucky you're cute, you know that?"

He chuckles under his breath and nods. Turning his head awkwardly, he presses a kiss to your cheek and settles back in against you.

Street's found that the best nights of sleep he's ever had have been laid up against you just like this, so when he feels himself begin to drift off he doesn't fight it. His eyelids droop shut and you notice the muscles of his back begin to grow lax under your touch.

You're not far off falling back into sleep, so you let yourself relax against Jim in the same way that he's resting against you - but not before you cup the crown of his head in your hand, and press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"Love you", you whisper. For a moment you think he's drifted off already and that's your words have been lost to the night, until you feel the arm draped around your waist squeeze you tightly against him.

You know he's on the verge on sleep as it is, so you're content to let him go. Still cradling his head in your hand as you pet his hair tenderly, you savour the feeling of his skin against yours as you let yourself drift off.

That is, until, there's a soft shuffle of skin against skin as he presses his lips to your ear and a whisper of, "love you too, baby."