Author's Note: Ahhh, the pining, the glorious pining! Is it everything you've hoped for? Probably not. ;)
Kurt cracked one eye open, wondering what time it was. The room was light enough to have woken him, but his alarm had yet to go off.
Jane was lying less than two feet away from him, her face turned towards his, and he forgot everything else. Her eyes were closed, her features relaxed and unguarded, and Kurt couldn't help a small smile as he gazed at her.
God, she was beautiful, but that word wasn't enough to do his feelings justice. When he looked at her, his appreciation wasn't just because she was an attractive woman—it was more than that, anchored in the emotional recognition of what she represented in his mind. He felt warmth, protectiveness, admiration, wistfulness.
At one point, this quiet contemplation of her would never have been something he'd allowed himself. Things between them had never been simple, but since he'd found Taylor's body, the complex layers of pained betrayal, worry, suspicion and self-doubt had made it difficult for him to be around her—or at least, when he'd found his gaze gravitating instinctively towards her, the negative emotions had deterred him from continuing to look.
Sometime between then and now, things had shifted again. Gradually, at first; when he'd been dating Nas, he hadn't wanted to make the woman he was with uncomfortable with the reminder of how close he and Jane used to be, or give the impression that he was pining after her. Even though you were pining after her.
Then he'd realised Jane was in a relationship, just as he was adjusting to being single after Nas' departure. He'd struggled with it, but had avoided looking at her for too long because it had hurt like hell to know that she was moving on. Which makes you an asshole, because you dated someone for months before she found someone.
These days, he avoided watching her because he didn't know how to deal with how strong his feelings were, and didn't want her to catch on before he decided what to do about them. Her short fling with Oliver should have been a wake-up call—had been a wake-up call, in some ways—but he was paralysed by the knowledge that neither of them could afford to be distracted by anything right now, much less each other. Phase Two could start any day now, and they still had no idea what it entailed, or what it targeted.
And even though part of him was sure that Jane still felt the same way she once had about him, another part was terrified that between his mistakes and hers, they could never succeed in being more than friends. Recently, his aversion to watching her was caused by a fear of rejection—not because his ego would be bruised, but because the thought of losing what they'd slowly rebuilt made him sick to his stomach.
Just admit it. You need her so much that you're prepared to pine after her from a distance forever, if the alternative is losing her friendship.
You love her.
The realisation should have been something that swept him away in a tidal wave, as he clung to the last shreds of his denial—but instead, he registered that the tidal wave had already come and gone, while he'd held on to his anger and betrayal, as he'd avoided her and sought oblivion in Nas' arms.
That whole time, he'd been choking and gasping for air as the current had overtaken him. He'd been overwhelmed by how much he still loved Jane, blaming himself—and her—for how strong his urge to forgive her for everything was, even while he'd grieved for Taylor, and for Mayfair, and for the way Jane had chosen to put her trust in Oscar over him.
Now, Kurt understood better. He could admit that the core of his anger had been justified, but that he'd allowed his own love for her to amplify his feelings, turning the cold fury into a coping strategy for his own guilt at how she'd suffered because of his actions and assumptions.
He'd loved her since the day she'd beaten him in a race up seventy flights of stairs to save his sister—and teased him about it afterwards. It had just taken him a long time to accept that his instincts about her inner goodness had been right, even if so many other things had been wrong.
Now he was at peace with his feelings, even as he was terrified of losing everything by hoping for more than they had.
I love you, Jane.
He wanted to lean over and kiss her awake—wanted it so much that he could practically feel her lips against his. Instead, he contented himself with brushing a tendril of hair back from her cheek, his touch so light that she didn't stir.
Then, shutting down thoughts of tracing her neck tattoo with his fingertips, he looked past her, at the window. The light coming through the window still had a bluish, early morning tinge, which made him confident that there was still at least an hour left until his alarm went off.
Closing his eyes, he listened to the pattering rain and waited for sleep to claim him once more. He wasn't getting out of bed a second earlier than he had to—not when this might be the only time he shared it with the woman he loved.
Jane had never felt so warm and safe as she'd woken up. What was different this morning?
She took a deep breath, and Kurt filled her senses—his arm around her, his scent and body heat surrounding her, his steady breaths tickling the back of her neck. He was completely relaxed, still sleeping, and she savoured each second of the realisation that this was really happening.
Too sleepy to tense up at the unusual situation, she mentally catalogued everything about it to store in her memories, knowing he'd apologise and roll away from her the moment he woke up. He was pressed right up against her back, and his fingers were splayed over her bare stomach, where her shirt had ridden up during the night. Unable to help herself, Jane gave a slight wriggle, and tingles spread across her skin as Kurt stirred, drawing in a slow, deep breath and positioning his hand a little more firmly against her abdomen.
Jane bit her lip, torn between two extremes. One part of her just wanted him to continue sleeping, so she could bask in this glorious, stolen moment of intimacy for as long as she could. The other part of her just…hurt.
I want this for real. I want him to reach for me while he's awake, to hold me close on purpose. To want me the way I want him. Knowing that things are too complicated between us, that he'd rather keep his distance…that's just too painful.
But maybe it isn't as hopeless as it seemed before. He did say the other day that he was glad we'd been led to each other, and Kurt doesn't say stuff like that to the rest of the team. Not even when he's had a few beers.
Maybe if I press back against him a little, or take his hand when he wakes up and tries to move away…
She suppressed a sigh, remembering the last couple of times she'd hit on him out of the blue. The first time, she'd taken his hand and pressed it against her chest, and he'd practically run out of her safehouse, though she'd seen the conflicted desire in his eyes. The second time, when she'd kissed him outside his apartment block, he'd seemed as captivated by her as she was by him, sparking hope that they could be something more. But only a couple of days later, he'd talked himself out of it, apologising for standing her up at the park and backing off.
Just as well I wasn't there, either. But I wanted to be, and that's the difference between us.
If she seduced him right now, he might be okay with it for a day or two, but then he'd talk himself out of it again. Jane didn't think she could bear the pain of having everything she wanted, only to have him distance himself a third time.
But even as her mind was conflicted, her body knew just what it needed. Special Agent Kurt Weller. Over me. Under me. Against me. Inside me. Any damn way I can have him.
At least he seems to be deeply asleep. I don't know if I could lie still if his morning wood were pressing against my ass.
But it feels like there's a fold of blanket between our lower bodies. Maybe he is hard.
Heat built between her thighs, and she resisted the impulse to push her ass back against him. Purposely trying to provoke arousal in her sleeping friend—and boss—would be manipulative, not to mention morally wrong. No matter how much she wanted him, nor how much he seemed to return her feelings sometimes.
She took a shaky breath, then focused on calming her impulses, forcing her thoughts and senses to how comfortable and warm she was, rather than to imagined scenarios of what might happen if she let her instincts reign.
Maybe I should roll away from him. Make sure this doesn't get too embarrassing. Sure, it might wake him up, but it's already light outside. It must be nearly time for the alarm to go off, right?
Do the right thing. Move away.
But her muscles wouldn't obey the mental command, as though sensing that it wasn't what she really wanted.
Jane gave up, allowing herself to be lulled by the sound of the rain outside. I just want to pretend, just for a little while longer, that we—
The loud chime of Kurt's alarm startled her, chasing away whatever justification her mind was about to supply. The surge of adrenaline made her body jolt, and she rolled onto her front as Kurt shifted onto his back, a low groan escaping him as he reached out for his phone.
She rose up on her forearms, smothering a genuine yawn as her pulse began to calm. "Morning," she murmured, turning her head towards his side of the bed.
"Morning." He rubbed a hand across his eyes, dropping his now silent phone onto his chest. Then he gave her a sleepy smile that made her second-guess her decision to resist seducing him.
He's so handsome first thing in the morning. All scruffy and needing a shave, his guard down… Sweet, almost.
"How'd you sleep?" he asked, his voice a little gruffer than usual.
Jane realised she'd only woken once, when the storm had still been raging hard. She'd fallen asleep again not long after that. "Pretty well, actually. How about you?"
"Same here." He stifled a yawn of his own. "Hasn't made me into a morning person, though."
Jane slid out of bed, glad to be able to avoid his gaze by turning her back to him. She was still more aroused than sleepy, and she wasn't sure she could hide it. "If we hadn't had to cut yesterday short, I'd say you should get another hour's sleep, but unless you want to give us Monday and Tuesday off…"
"I know. I'd be tempted to just say 'screw it, we've earned the break', but I don't like being so far from New York when we don't know why Shepherd was in Bangkok." He sighed. "You go ahead and take the bathroom first. I promise not to doze off again."
Jane grabbed her go bag and headed for the bathroom, trying the light switch with no real optimism that it would work. "Power's still out. No big surprise there."
Kurt grunted, and she snickered to herself at how weary he sounded. It was entirely possible she would have to throw a pillow at him in a few minutes, the way he'd given her permission to last night.
Shutting herself into the windowless darkness for long enough to pee, she allowed herself a moment to acknowledge just how disappointed she was that the alarm had interrupted—even though it was for the best. Then she closed the door on her wishful thinking, determined not to make things awkward today.
She was halfway through applying her mascara—the bathroom door open now, to allow enough light to fall onto the mirror—when she realised Kurt had moved just as fast as she had at the sound of the alarm.
He was awake, too? Does he know that I…?
Of course he did. She'd jumped about a foot when the alarm had startled her—there was no way she'd have done that unless she'd been awake already. Or maybe you didn't jump as far as you think you did, and Kurt reacting the same way just made the movement seem bigger.
Should she apologise for not separating from him when she'd woken up, and say that she hadn't wanted to risk disturbing him? Or would it be better to pretend it had never happened, unless he said something first?
Just take your cue from Kurt. He could have moved just as easily as you could. Easier, because his arm was around you. He probably didn't want to risk waking you. So if he apologises, then so can you. But otherwise…
No point in saying you're sorry, because you'd be lying.
Author's Note: I believe evil laughter is customary for this part of a fic? :D I guess Jeller are just going to have to endure a second night of only having one bed, somehow... Any thoughts/wishes for how the second day (and night) of the road trip is going to go?