Author's Note: Some UST to help distract you guys from the current trauma that is canon - wow, that episode... :D Anyway, the rating for this fic has gone up, which will probably surprise nobody. Thank you to everyone who's along for the ride this time!
Kurt closed the door behind them, shutting out the storm raging outside. Now it was just him, Jane…and a room dominated by a double bed.
Is the universe testing me? Because this is the one test I don't know if I can pass. Spending all evening sitting on a bed with Jane—before sliding under the covers to sleep next to her all night—was going to be torment.
Dismissing the thought, he glanced over at her. "You want to take the first shower?"
She looked up from rummaging in her go-bag. "As long as that's okay with you."
Kurt shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed. "Go ahead."
Jane flashed him a quick smile, then pulled a toiletry bag and a bundle of clothing out of her military-style duffel. Guess you can take the girl out of the military, but you can't take the military out of the girl.
"I won't be long," she said, and headed into the bathroom.
Kurt waited until he heard the shower running to settle back against the headboard with the TV remote in hand, heaving a sigh that was equal parts relief and trepidation.
He had to keep it together. He'd already slipped too far earlier this week, when he'd admitted under the Garen sisters' polygraph that Jane had gotten back inside his walls. And later on, discussing the case with Jane during a quiet moment alone at the bar, he'd been so damn close to leaning in to kiss her, the alcohol loosening his tongue enough for him to tell her that despite Shepherd's manipulation, he'd never want to undo the way they'd been brought together.
Every time she looked at him with that shy hesitance, as though she thought she wasn't worthy of being complimented or told she was important, he just forgot everything—how to be her boss, how to stop gazing into those big, beautiful eyes…
He focused on the TV, trying not to think about the fact that Jane was naked in the next room, hot water and soap streaming over the tattoo of his name across her upper back, down every curve and dip of her body. He wanted to be in there with her, to drink droplets of water from her throat as he pressed her back against the bathroom tiles and—
Stop.
He channel-hopped, hoping the varying images on the screen would divert his attention before his cock started to take too much notice. As a distraction technique, it wasn't too bad, especially when a news report about a shooting in Portland commanded his attention. He lingered on the channel for long enough to reassure himself that his sister and nephew were unlikely to have been in the crossfire. Even then, he still sent a quick text to his sister, checking on her.
Jane didn't take the time to luxuriate in the shower, emerging with heat-flushed skin and damp hair only a few minutes after she'd gone into the bathroom. The scent of her usual soap and shampoo drifted over to him, stronger than he was used to, and he closed his eyes for a moment, fighting his desire.
"Anything good on TV?" Jane asked, stuffing her clothing from earlier into her bag.
He stood up, knowing his self-control wouldn't last long if he remained in the room. "Nothing jumped out at me. Put whatever you want on—I'll probably read for a while, if you don't mind."
She positioned pillows against the headboard on her side of the bed, settling herself down cross-legged, while he sorted through his bag for everything he'd need in the bathroom. "Doesn't bother me. I'll do some sketching."
Kurt headed into the bathroom, still unable to relax even with the closed door between him and Jane. Her scent surrounded him, floating on the steam from her shower, and as he stripped naked and stepped under the spray, he knew a cold shower would only fix the problem until he warmed up again.
Jerking off in the shower felt illicit with Jane so close by, but this was a situation he'd never expected to be in when he'd offered to accompany her on her road trip, and he had serious doubts about his ability to hide how much he wanted her if he didn't do something to take the edge off.
And you have to hide it, Weller. Maybe one day, things will calm down enough that we can give it one more try. But we can't get distracted now.
No matter how much you want to drag her into your lap and remind her how things were between you, before everything got so damn twisted up in Sandstorm.
Remembering when she'd gazed up at him with unguarded, unashamed desire, confessing that she'd wanted a moment that was just for them, he swallowed a groan and took hold of his hard cock. Resting one hand on the tiles in front of him, he lost himself in thoughts of sharing his bed with Jane, until his own confident touch brought his pent-up frustration to the tense, trembling moment before orgasm.
He wanted to spoon up against her, leave hot, breathless kisses all over her neck and shoulder as she ground her ass back against his hard-on, then tilted forward to rub her clit all over his fingers. She'd be so wet for him, shaking through a powerful climax before she turned over and rolled him onto his back, leaning down to kiss him hungrily as she began to ride his cock—
Within a minute, he was coming, the silent, shuddering pleasure of his release giving way to a guiltily satisfied afterglow. Jane…ah, fuck…
He was in way over his head right now, but he had to keep his head on straight. He was her boss, her partner, her friend. That was all they could be, because every time they took a step to get closer, life would wrench them apart.
He didn't want either of them to hurt that way again.
Kurt was more relaxed when he came out of the bathroom, which was a relief. He'd been a little abrupt before, but the hot water seemed to have loosened him up. Now he was sprawled out on his stomach on his side of the bed, checking his phone.
He smelled so good that she wanted to bury her face in his neck and inhale his scent—familiar and masculine, sexy enough to make heat curl through her abdomen and settle between her thighs.
Don't go there. This is just two friends hanging out on a Friday night.
Two friends who've made out in the past. Spending the night on a bed. And then in the bed.
She turned to a fresh page in her sketchpad and tapped her pencil against the blank paper, searching for a distracting subject to draw. Unfortunately, the most interesting thing in the room was Kurt, which didn't help her mind switch tracks. Wonder if I can sketch him without him noticing.
"At least Tasha made it home okay," Kurt said, reaching for the giant bag of Skittles on the bed between them.
"You don't regret going back with her? You could be at home now, doing…whatever you do on a weekend these days." She didn't know. Now that Sarah and Sawyer had moved to the West Coast, and his father was dead, how did he spend his weekends? She hadn't spent one with him since before the black site.
"Watching sports, going to the gym, trying to find a new angle on the Sandstorm case?" He gave her an amused look. "No. This is a nice change of pace. Good company, atmospheric weather, something to read… Nowhere I'd rather be."
I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, either. A little flustered, she looked down at her sketchpad.
Before the silence could get awkward, she changed tack, pointing out the part he hadn't mentioned. "I guess it saves you worrying about me all weekend, too."
He shrugged. "Doesn't hurt. I know you can take care of yourself, but Shepherd has people everywhere. I don't like the thought of you being a thousand miles away without backup if you need it."
"I appreciate it…even though it's not necessary." Jane gestured towards his phone, half wanting to carry on the conversation, and half hoping she'd distract him enough that his focus would shift to the reading he was planning to do. "New Winston Pear book?"
"Not this time. James Patterson." He hesitated, frowning, then added, "No relation to our Patterson—as far as I know."
"Ahh. I keep meaning to try him. He has so many books that I never know where to start." Plus these days I'm too worried about Sandstorm to focus on reading anything that's not work-related.
His expression brightened a little. "Remind me, when we're back in New York. I'll grab a couple off my bookshelves for you to try."
"Thanks. I'd like that. It might take me a while to get through them, though. Between living with Roman and worrying about the case, I'm not too focused right now."
Concern sparked in his gaze. "Everything okay?"
She shrugged. "Yeah. Just can't switch my brain off, I guess."
Kurt nodded slowly. "One way or another, this is gonna be over soon. Just hang in there, Jane."
"You don't have to worry about me. Really."
The look in his eyes was almost tender. "If worrying about people you care about was optional, life would be a lot simpler."
"Yeah," Jane conceded, looking down at the pencil in her hand. "I guess it would."
She began to doodle, needing to hide from the intensity of the moment before it got too far under her skin. A lone tree took shape under her pencil nib, standing in a field of long grass, a storm raging all around it. It occupied her for a few minutes, and when she dared to glance across at Kurt, he was immersed in the book he was reading on his phone.
She took a moment to observe him out of the corner of her eye—subject and muse rolled into one breathtakingly handsome human being—and settled her sketchpad at a better angle as she began to draw.
When her words and even her thoughts failed her, drawing was the outlet that still allowed her to process what she was feeling—and even if he noticed that she was sketching him, he wouldn't be able to perceive the emotions beneath. She could point out that nothing else in the room was interesting enough to draw, and he'd accept that as the reason for her focus.
Sometimes she was almost certain he was still interested in her, but after everything she'd done to hurt him, she'd forbidden herself from making the first move—and Kurt played everything by the book. Being attracted to someone was one thing, but he also felt acutely responsible for everyone under his leadership at the NYO. He would always put work first, because that was just how he was.
Between her guilt and his restraint, there was no way they'd ever resume where they'd left off, even if he did still feel the same pull towards her as she did towards him.
And she was okay with that, because she'd thought she'd lost his respect forever. She treasured the friendship they'd slowly built up over the past few months, building on the ruins of the person he'd thought she was to something more solid and comfortable.
Just take what you have and be happy with it. Anything else is just greedy.