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"We only have one room left for the night," the receptionist of the motel tells you in a bland voice, flipping the page of the magazine in her hand.
You glance over at your partner, nerves flooding through your body. The case you are currently working in Intelligence involves a trip to pick up a suspect from holding in Wisconsin to be tried for his crimes in Chicago, considering homicide is just a bit more serious than drunk and disorderly. Voight had sent you and Jay to do the pickup, but the jail wouldn't do the transfer until morning. Which is why you are standing in the lobby of a rinky-dink motel on the outskirts of town, forced to get a room to stay in for the night. And instead of adjoining rooms...
"That's fine," Jay agrees, seemingly without a second thought.
You try not to react, to let your partner know how terrified you are of spending the night in the same room as him. Because unfortunately for you, you have the world's biggest crush on Jay Halstead, and it has been eating you alive since you finally accepted your feelings. You've been avoiding these types of situations lately for a reason; you don't want to risk ruining your friendship and partnership by doing something stupid, and you aren't sure how much longer you'll be able to resist doing something very stupid.
The young girl behind the counter reaches blindly under the desk before pulling out a set of keys, handing them over to Jay's awaiting hand. Without even sparing you two a glance, she flips another page, "The motel isn't responsible for anything you do in that room, legal or otherwise."
Your eyes widen at the insinuation. Does... does this girl think you're a hooker?! Before you have the chance to chew her out, Jay places a hand on your arm with a smug grin, sensing what you're about to do. He tries to hold back his laugh, "Noted."
Rolling your eyes, you huff and turn around, striding out of the office and just hoping he follows.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:**:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Ticking your eyes towards the bathroom, you hear the water turn off indicating that Jay was finishing up his shower. You look back at the files in your lap, breathing deeply to try and calm your bubbling nerves. So far, things have been... okay. Jay has been his normal flirty self: wink here, sexual innuendo there. It is killing you.
The door to the bathroom opens and Jay steps out wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, chest still slightly glistening as he towel-dries his hair. He grins, noticing how you look him up and down before focusing intently on the files. Clearly, he knows exactly what he's doing to you. Jay takes a few slow steps towards where you sit on the bed, trying and failing to gain your attention. He brings the towel back up to his head, roughly running it over his wet hair. Droplets of water land everywhere, including on you and your paperwork.
"Jay!" you groan and toss the files aside, glaring at him, "You're making me wet." Noticing the smirk that appears on his lips and the way his eyes darken, your own eyes widen. "I didn't mean it like that! Stop making everything I say dirty!"
Jay chuckles and tosses the towel onto the dresser behind him. Closing the remaining distance between you two, he presses his palms on the bed. His strong arms bracket the sides of your body as he leans in close, face mere centimeters from yours, noses almost touching. His eyes flicker down to your lips before meeting yours, smirk still firmly in place. "Are you sure you didn't mean it like that?" Jay asks, voice somehow husky and soft at the same time.
Your breath hitches in your throat at his proximity and then you fully process his words. Throwing caution to the wind, you mutter to yourself, "Screw it." Surging forward, you wrap your arms around his neck and connect your mouth with his.
Turns out the receptionist wasn't too far off about what would be going down in that room tonight. Well, minus the money.
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