jim street oneshots

drink [ ❦ ]

"I can't believe it took a day like this for you to finally let me buy you a drink." Street says as he slides back into the booth, sitting down opposite you he slides a small tumbler across the table to you. You reach for it with a shaky hand, the torn skin of your knuckles straining painfully as you wrap your fingers around the glass and raise it to your lips.

"Can't blame me for wanting something to take the edge off, can you?" You ask dryly, downing the last of the liquor and planting the glass back down on the table as you wince a little at the burn it elicits.

"No, 'spose I can't." He says, eyeing you with a look of concern over the rim of his own glass. "You sure this is the best way to do it, though?"

"Why, what do you propose?" Street's knees knock against yours under the table as he leans over to you, watching as you cock your head at him with a small grin on your tired face. "And so help me God, if it's to talk about my feelings I'm gonna drown you in that glass."

"No, I'm not that stupid." He says with a laugh. "I was gonna say takeout and a movie at mine. Get your mind off of it instead of getting out of your mind altogether." He reaches for you, cupping your hand that's around the now empty glass, and soothing over the broken and bruised skin with a gentle touch as he looks at you. "What do you say?"