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Jay grunts, "Dammit."
"What's up?" you ask from where you sit on your couch, case files on your lap as you review them. You have an important court case later today, and you wanted to be sure everything was prepared.
The morning sunlight bleeds through the open shades, streaking across the hardwood floors of your apartment. Your boyfriend moves from the kitchen until he's in your line of sight, furiously rubbing at a stain on his shirt. "I spilled some coffee," Jay sighs. He points at you, raising a brow, "I need my shirt back."
Glancing at yourself, you finger the edge of the t-shirt you put on over your underwear when you woke up this morning, having picked it up off the floor where you'd thrown it from Jay's body the night before. He kept a few changes of clothes here for the times he spent the night and didn't have time to go back to his apartment before work. You look at him like he's grown a second head, "I'm wearing it!"
Jay rolls his eyes, "Y/N, I'm gonna be late for work."
Scoffing, you roll your own eyes, "You have a drawer in the bedroom, twenty feet away." He places his hands on his hips, narrowing his eyes in a silent challenge, and when you match his look, Jay huffs in exasperation. You chuckle as you watch him shuffle back to your bedroom in search of something to wear, shaking your head.
Eyes roaming the pages, you try to focus back on the case in front of you when Jay emerges through the doorway, arms folded over his naked chest. "Y/N," he says calmly. You hum in acknowledgment, not raising your head from your work. Jay stops in front of you, repeating your name until you look up, and he grabs the papers from your lap.
"Hey!" you object, uncrossing your bare legs to stand as you reach out for the files, but he holds them out of reach.
Jay tosses them onto the coffee table, grabbing your forearm, "Come here." You huff as he drags you to the bedroom, stopping in front of your closet and standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders. "What is this?"
Heat rushes through your cheeks when you realize what he is referring to. Normally, Jay doesn't ever go into your closet; he doesn't have a reason to. Which is why he's never seen your secret stash. You swallow, "Umm..."
"Y/N," Jay tries to hide his amusement, "What is this?"
"This is," you pause, trying to come up with an explanation, "my collection."
"Your collection," Jay states more than asks, voice flat. He moves to stand beside you and crosses his arms, "Of my clothes."
In the corner of your closet is a few piles of folded clothes; sweaters, sweatshirts, Henley's, sweatpants. All stolen and all Jay's. You stay silent for a moment before shrugging, "... Yeah."
Jay glances between the closet and you, "Now I know where half my wardrobe went."
"You left that stuff here," you try to defend.
He huffs out a laugh, "You stole it from my apartment."
Narrowing your eyes, your law school training comes to the forefront in a familiar game the two of you often play, "I object to this line of questioning, Detective."
Smirking, Jay quirks a brow, "Is that so?"
"Mmhmm," you fold your own arms, mirroring your boyfriend's stance.
"Y/N, I need my clothes back."
"I don't know what you're talking about," you hum. "Unfortunately for you, possession is nine-tenths of the law."
Jay narrows his eyes, uncrossing his arms and taking a step closer. He tilts his chin down towards your body, green eyes darkening. "Take off the shirt."
You pout, knowing he is always a sucker for that, "Do I have to?"
"Well," Jay moves another step. He reaches out, fingers playing with the edge of the shirt brushing against the smooth skin of your thigh. "If you don't comply, I may have to use force."
"Is that so, Detective?" you barely make out, voice hitching in your throat. Jay smirks and nods his head, closing the remaining distance between you with an arm around your waist and his lips attaching to yours.
Yeah. He is definitely gonna be late for work.
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