Work Text:
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
Hailey laughs as Jay finishes brushing his teeth, leaning over the sink to rinse before repeating himself.
“I said, you’ve gotta stop distracting me in the morning."
He catches her eye in the mirror as she leans in to turn on the shower. Her laugh echoes through the bathroom as she pulls her shirt over her head, smirking at him as it drops to the floor.
“Right, I’m the reason we’re running late this morning,” she says, stepping into the shower and pulling the door closed behind her. Jay turns back to the sink and rinses his toothbrush, sticking it back in its holder and tossing it in his jump bag. He rummages through for a change of clothes, glancing up to watch her in the mirror.
"I'm gonna have to run home and grab a change of clothes tonight if you're planning on waking me up late tomorrow morning too," he says, raising his voice slightly so she can hear it over the shower, but there's more flirt than malice behind it.
"Excuse me. I woke you up on time. You're the one who didn't wanna get out of bed," she calls.
“Mhmm. You definitely protested,” he laughs, zipping up his jump bag.
She makes a noncommittal noise in response. There’s really no arguing with how easily she’d let him draw her body on top of his in bed when the alarm had gone off, how easily she’d given in to slow, lazy kisses and wandering hands for long minutes until the alarm had snoozed two times too many.
He watches her reflection in the mirror. She's running her fingers through her hair, working out a tangle, and he just stares until her voice distracts him.
"You know, you don't have to keep your toothbrush in your jump bag. You could just…”
She trails off, and he just waits, trying to stifle the smile that’s threatening.
He hears her easy laughter and just shakes his head, letting his smile take over, even if he desperately needs her to finish that sentence.
“I could just…?” He prompts, giving up any pretense of busying himself at the sink and just watching her instead.
She doesn't answer, just tilts her head back and lets the water run over her hair, down her back. Something in him twists -- with affection, with amusement, with desire and need. He turns from the sink to watch her body move in the shower, nothing lost in the reflection of the mirror now.
He’s used to watching her from years on the job, learning her movements, following her lead, following her blind. And he still does these things, but now he gets to do them in new ways -- he watches her above him, has learned the drag of her lips, the sway of her hips, has followed her over countless proverbial cliffs.
He loves to watch her. But it’s rarely enough anymore, now that he can touch her, can feel her tense and relax, can coax words, noises out with just his hands, his lips.
It’s definitely not enough now.
He crosses the room quickly, pulling the shower door open. Her eyes open immediately, and there's a smirk forming on her lips before he can even get a word out.
"You lose something?" Her smirk is in full force, but he just shakes his head, reaching in to pull her warm, wet body closer.
She gasps quickly, and he knows the air is cold out from under the shower spray. He grins, holding her hips steady, still as she tries to step back under the spray.
He shakes his head. "Didn't lose anything."
She just rolls her eyes, her wet fingers dragging down his chest to slip into the waistband of his boxer briefs, pushing her palms down until the fabric drops down his thighs and he steps out, kicking them away from the wet tile.
He reaches back to pull the shower door closed and then walks her back under the hot water, trailing his fingers along her waist as goosebumps dot her skin.
She sighs as the water heats her skin again, and her hands drag up his back, trailing water droplets over his skin. “Need something?"
He just raises an eyebrow, sliding his palms down to her hips to press her back against the cool tile wall. This time, when she gasps, he's prepared and leans in to capture it against his lips, dragging her lower lip between his teeth slowly.
"Mhmm," he murmurs. "I need you... to finish your sentence." He smirks when she rolls her eyes again.
Her hands run up his back to his shoulders, and she presses him back, putting a little space between their bodies. He mock-frowns at the tease and leans in, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth.
She wrinkles her nose slightly. "Oh, I don't remember. Sorry," she mutters, pushing him back again, holding him at arm’s length.
She's teasing him, she likes it, and honestly, it's rude.
"Hailey," he whispers, sliding his hands up her body, skimming his thumbs over her nipples, grinning as they pebble under his touch.
He watches her close her eyes for a moment, and before she can open them, he leans down to close his lips around a nipple, circling his tongue slowly as she opens her eyes.
"Remember yet?" He asks, smiling against her skin as she shivers when his warm breath ghosts over her.
She shakes her head, and he laughs, the sound echoing off the tile. He presses his lips down, over the swell of her breast and under, his mouth slicking over slippery skin.
"Anything yet?" He asks, the words almost muffed by her skin and the water rushing around them.
He glances up and watches her shake her head before gliding his lips over her stomach and pressing them against her belly button.
He raises an eyebrow up at her, and she smiles, raking her fingers through his hair.
"Probably not gonna remember any time soon if you keep heading that direction," she says, a laugh lacing her words.
He just shrugs, shifting his body so he can move down to his knees, grinning up at her when she automatically widens her stance a little.
"You're gonna make us late for work," she mumbles, dragging her fingers roughly through his hair, moving easily when he pulls her thigh up and over his shoulder.
"Yeah, you seem real broken up about that," he whispers, but he's pretty sure she doesn't even hear it as she guides his lips lower, her fingers tightening in his hair when his mouth presses against her.
It isn’t the first time they’ve spent a morning in the shower like this, and it’s not the first time they’ve been running late -- it’s barely the first time this week. So he shouldn’t be surprised when her body moves against his mouth immediately, guiding him into an easy, well-known rhythm.
He shouldn’t be surprised, but he always is anyway.
He lets her hips move against his mouth and works on circling her clit, doesn’t let himself think about the time ticking away or how they’ll eventually have to leave the shower to start the day. He runs his palms up her waist, teasing his fingers along her ribcage, brushing his thumbs over her nipples.
A familiar moan echoes over the water falling around them, and he drags a hand back down to her thigh, sliding slick fingers over her skin, rubbing at tense muscle as her fingers scratch over his scalp.
He works his tongue against her and tries to focus only on making her fall apart, dragging more and more noises out of her that linger in the air as steam fills the shower around them. He can’t stop thinking about her unfinished sentence, though, how he knows exactly what she was about to suggest and how he’s still going to coax the words out of her if it’s all he does today.
It shouldn’t be a huge thing, but it feels like a morning he wants to remember, like trust and a glimpse at a future he’s been ready for longer than he can remember.
Her thigh tenses over his shoulder and her hips pick up speed, losing rhythm against his mouth, and he doesn’t move a muscle except to let her palms pull his mouth even closer as she starts to fall apart. She grinds against his mouth as she comes, shaking apart.
He moves his mouth against her in the shapes of calming words, lets his chest rise and fall with the cadence of her fading moans above him as her fingers detangle from his hair slowly, and she runs a palm down the back of his neck. He slows his tongue against her but only draws back when the end of a moan turns into a quiet, overwhelmed laugh he knows well.
He eases her leg off his shoulder, running his hand down her thigh as her foot finds the tile again. “You good?” He asks, and the unsteady tremble of her leg as he presses a kiss to her inner thigh makes him smirk up at her.
She nods, running her hands back up through his hair, gentle and sweet, sated, this time.
He presses his lips against her skin as he stands -- over the dip of her waist, across the sensitive skin of her breasts, up the column of her neck -- until his mouth finds hers, easy and familiar. He lets her kiss her taste away and only pulls back when her lips slip into a smile against his.
“Hmm?” He mumbles, his palm slicking over the wet skin at her waist.
She bites her lip as she draws back, and her fingers slipping down his body between them has him on high alert before words even leave her mouth.
“I think…” she starts, and he drops his forehead to her temple on a quiet groan when her fingers wrap around his cock, stroking him quickly.
“Hailey,” he groans, his lips stuttering against her cheek when her grip changes slightly.
“I think,” she repeats, and his hips buck into her fist when she speeds up slightly, “that you should…” She drags the word out, and she absolutely knows exactly what she’s doing to him.
He gives up on even pretending she’s not sending him straight toward the edge faster than he can handle and trails his lips down her cheek to her neck, mouthing a gentle bite to the bend of her shoulder. It throws off her rhythm for a split second, and he stifles a chuckle against her wet skin.
She runs her free hand down his chest, pressing him back just slightly so their eyes can meet.
“Jay,” she whispers, and he drags his lower lip between his teeth, waiting. Her strokes speed up, and her thumb circles the head of his cock as she shifts, moving him with her and pressing his cock against her. “I think... that you should make this quick, so we’re not even later for work,” she finally finishes, and her laugh drowns out the groan her words pull out of him.
He recovers quickly when her hand shifts off his cock and around to his lower back. “That’s what you think I should do?” He asks, his mouth moving along the line of her neck to whisper against her ear.
She nods against his lips, and he grins, raking his teeth against her earlobe as his hand slides down her hip and back down the water-slick skin of her thigh. He pulls it over the bend of his elbow, pausing for a moment while she adjusts. Her nails drag up his back as he grinds against her, and yeah, he won’t have a problem making this quick.
He slides against her, pressing in slowly as her eyes flutter closed. Goosebumps prick her skin as he slides all the way in, the water cooling over their skin and the air hitting her. He drags a wet hand up her body, smiling at her shiver, and presses his palm to the side of her neck. He presses his thumb against her chin, ghosting his breath over her lips as he leans in to kiss her.
He pulls out and thrusts back in as their lips meet, and her nails bite in and drag up his back, water wicking away the sting as quickly as it comes. He swallows down a moan as he moves into her, her nails dragging just slightly higher with each thrust.
By the time her nails reach his shoulders, he has to pull back to breathe against her, the curve of her smile just meeting his. He adjusts his grip on her thigh, the angle shifting as he thrusts quicker, and she gasps against his lips, and that’s what does it.
He breathes out against her, moving his hand from her neck to brace himself against the cold tile wall, leveraging himself to thrust harder, faster, until she lets out another gasp against him and her nails drag across his shoulders, and he can’t hold back.
He comes on his next thrust, pressing his lips into her wet hair and dragging his hand off the wall to fall to her hip, palming her ass and holding her against him as he finally stills inside her.
He slips out of her slowly, lets her thigh go, and steadies them both by pressing her back against the cold tile harder as he leans into her. His lips find her shoulder again as he works to slow his breathing, and her hands soothe over marks he knows her nails have left.
When he feels less foggy, he pulls back, running his hands over the goosebumps on her arms, warming her as he steps back and pulls her back under the shower spray with him. The glass is fogged up around them, and he just smiles as she leans up and winds her arms around his neck, pressing up on her tiptoes to kiss him as the water falls around them.
The fog of the glass and the rush of the water makes him feel like they’re in a bubble, hidden away from the outside world, and it’s a place he could, wants to, stay forever.
But the water is turning cool around them, and she wasn’t lying earlier when she said they’d be late, so he pulls back and runs his fingers through her hair, working out tangles for her as they start to rinse off quickly.
He manages only to steal a few more moments as they finish rinsing off, which he counts as a win. It’s only as he’s stepping out to grab a couple of towels that he spies his jump bag and remembers his original goal.
He holds out a towel for her but doesn’t let go as she reaches for it. “Did I manage to jog your memory?”
She watches at him for a moment, like she’s really trying to remember, and then smirks, pulling the towel from his hands and wrapping it around her body. “Sorry, no. Guess you’re just gonna have to try again later.”
He laughs, tucking his towel around his waist and trailing her to the sink. “You’re killin’ me, Hailey.”
She glances at him in the mirror as he comes up behind her, and he can see the moment she decides to go easy on him, the quick curve of her lips as his fingers brush her waist over the towel and his lips press against her shoulder slowly.
She holds his eye contact in the mirror as she leans over, reaching into his bag and pulling out his toothbrush holder. She uncaps it, putting the empty holder back in the bag, and watches him closely as she reaches over and places his toothbrush next to hers in the holder on the counter.
“I think,” she starts, glancing at him in the mirror one last time as she turns around, dragging her fingers up his chest, her palm coming to rest over his heartbeat, “that you should keep this here.”
He nods, smiling as he leans in to kiss her, pressing her back against the counter.
“Yeah, I think I can do that,” he whispers, pulling back only when her hand presses him back slowly.
She’s smiling, though, and his only kicks up a notch as she speaks again.
“Good,” she whispers, running her hand up to pat his cheek none-too-gently. “Now, c’mon, before you make us even later this morning.”
It’s a toothbrush. It’s not a giant leap or a big moment. But they’ve never needed those for things to feel right, natural. The real world is still going to creep in, and he knows that’ll always feel right too.
He just grins, following her out of the bathroom.
(They’re late. It’s worth it.)