jim street oneshots

sleepless nights [ ❦ ]

You're two cups of tea and three episodes of Black Mirror deep into the night when there's a low crunch of tires over gravel outside, and a bright headlight streams through the living room curtains.

It makes you squint from where you sit on the sofa, bundled up in the colourful knitted throws that Luca always insists on keeping laid out on the sofa. Your arm's gone half dead from propping your head up on the armrest and you're in the middle of stretching it out over your head when Street's keys jangle in the lock and he shoves the door open.

He gets a couple steps inside before he sees you, his eyes flickering to you surprisedly as he pushes the door closed. He dumps his keys on the table in the entryway and avoids your eyes as he shrugs off his jacket. "Sorry for disturbing you."

"It's okay." You say softly in reply, letting your head fall back against the sofa as you shrug. "I couldn't sleep anyways."

He drapes his jacket over the back of the recliner closest to the door, and sits down to unlace his boots as he looks up at you. "Something keeping you up?"

"Nothing in particular." You shake your head, watching as he stiffly rolls his neck a little as he sits back. "What about you? I doubt you were out riding this late for fun."

"Just needed to clear my head." He says noncommittally, shrugging his shoulders a little.

"Did it work?" You ask, shifting in your seat to sit upright as you talk. "The ride?"

He shakes his head, picking at a loose thread on his flannel as he speaks. "Not really."

"Is there anything I can do?"

He pauses for a second as if contemplating his words, before he nods to the empty seat next to you on the couch with a small smile. "Move over?"

In no time at all you're folding up your legs underneath you to make space for him, and freeing up some of the blanket for him too. There's a slight blush in his face like he didn't quite expect you to accept, but he says nothing about it as he sits next to you and tugs some of the blanket into his lap. He's reaching over for the remote when you snatch it away from him.

"Hey- " He objects, but you're already shaking your head.

"My blanket, my movie." You say as you begin to scroll through Netflix, grinning at the groan he lets out knowing you're going to put on something he hates. "Whether you like it or not."

He frowns but abates, crossing his arms over his chest as he sits back into the sofa. "I don't, but I guess that's besides the fact."

You end up picking one of Luca's favourites, an old Western with terrible sound effects and acting that's almost older than you. Since the three of you had moved in together, he'd insisted on putting it on everytime it was his turn to pick the movie for the night because it was guaranteed to get a laugh out of everyone - and it worked just as well tonight. You both snicker at the balloon-pop gunshots and the bad jokes, and the next time you glance over at him he's looking a lot more at ease than he was when he walked in.

After a bit, Street's hand settles on your leg atop the blanket. With a featherlight touch he rubs circles into your calf with the pads of his fingers, and the soothing nature of his touch only exacerbates the tiredness taking hold.

"Thank you." He says quietly after a while, making you blink the sleep out of your eyes so you can focus enough to respond to him.

"Don't worry about it." You say with a shake of your head, returning his tired smile. He squeezes your leg comfortingly, and it's not long before he catches sight of your head tilting onto your shoulder and your eyes falling shut as you finally fall asleep.