[ oom ] restless

[nocturnalmedicine]

When Matt trades his dress shirt and trousers for his all-black attire, Claire isn't naïve enough to tell him to be careful.

"Keep the Dumpster-diving to a minimum," she says, watching him tug his mask into place.

He smirks — crooked and cocky and annoyingly appealing — and even as she rolls her eyes, she can't completely ignore the fist that tightens around her heart.

"Don't wait up," he says over his shoulder, mounting the stairs.

"Lawyers," she murmurs, eyes on him until he disappears, knowing he can hear her. "Always getting the last word."


- - - - -


She doesn't change for bed, though she knows she should.

She's too awake to simply stare at the ceiling, so, after a perfunctory inspection of Matt's cupboard, she makes herself a cup of mint tea, and tucks herself into one corner of the couch to read the latest headlines from the Bulletin on her phone.


- - - - -


One cup of tea turns into a second.

Outside, the city's nighttime thrum ebbs, flows, potential energy clamoring to kinetic. Two sirens scream a couple of blocks away, and she can't help but wonder if Matt's caught up in the middle: if he's attracted the worst kind of attention, or sent someone else to the ER.

(Knowing Matt? Could be both.)


- - - - -


When she can no longer stomach another stupidly addictive round of Alphabear, Claire gives her eyeballs a much-needed break, closes the app, and puts down her phone.

She swaps out her jeans and peasant blouse for a pair of Matt's boxers and a gray cotton tank, and restlessly stretches out her sore, tight limbs as much as she dares.

Resettling on the couch, she picks up a battered Bic she rescued from Matt's junk drawer.

Writing might not help, but it certainly can't hurt.

Comments

[man_without_fear]

He turns his head over to her freely, letting her pull him in and deepening the kiss further when he's there.

Letting go of the sheet, his hand reaches for her, finding a place to rest on her hip.

When her tongue flickers against his mouth again he lets out a sound, not quite a sigh, not yet a groan, but somewhere there in between. On her hip his hand tightens, squeezing her waist, ready to bring her closer still.

[nocturnalmedicine]

She chases that growl, nipping at his upper lip while her fingertips tangle in his hair. Her hip rolls into the heated press of Matt's hand, the splay of his fingers sending a fresh spark of want singing under her skin.

She shifts one shoulder, and freezes, unable to stifle a sharp, startled gasp.

[man_without_fear]

His hand on her waist starts to slide lower, but on her sharp intake of breath he let's go and draws back in an instant.

Mouth pulling from hers, his hand hovers in the air above her side.

"I'm sorry," he says, eyes working sightlessly back and forth as he tries to listen over the sound of his own rapid breathing to get a reading of her and her injuries.

[nocturnalmedicine]

"Don't be." The words hitch in the back of her throat, but she strokes his nape in reassurance. "Not your fault — it's just shitty timing."

She gingerly relaxes her shoulder, further aggravating her ribs; her jaw clenches.

"Or divine intervention, maybe."

[man_without_fear]

"Maybe," he replies, suppressing a frown as he disengages fully.

Drawing back from her, he pushes up onto an elbow, his hand moving up to her shoulder, trying to lend her support.

"Settle back, slow," he instructs, hearing the protest her ribs are putting up and hoping her taking weight off of them will help.

[nocturnalmedicine]

She curls one arm around her torso, gritting her teeth as she eases back, fighting the instinctive urge to tense up.

Damn Russian shitheads.

"I'm good," she all but pants, caught in the twin currents of adrenaline and desire. Her heart is a trip-hammer, a kettledrum; the phantom weight of Matt's hand on her hip is as hot and insistent as the kiss they just shared. "Moved wrong, that's all."

A heartbeat.

Wry: "But you probably know that already, huh?"

[man_without_fear]

Matt helps to support her until she's laying against the mattress, and then he takes his hand back; fingertips lingering for a moment before he pulls away.

"Good news is, none of the cuts have reopened," he replies, flashing her a wane smile.

"I shouldn't've-- " his smile tightens and he shakes his head, not finishing the words.

"Do you uh, need more aspirin?" He shifts his weight, already ready to get up.

[nocturnalmedicine]

"No," she murmurs, shaking her head slightly against her pillow.

With her eyes narrowed, she can just make out his expression in the watery light filtering through the windows.

"Matt." Reaching out, her fingers close around his wrist. "Listen."

She guides his hand to her chest.

"Does this feel like regret to you?"

[man_without_fear]

His palm rests flat on her chest and he feels her racing heartbeat while he listens to it.

He also feels the heat rising off of her skin even through the cotton of her shirt, and read the other signs that point strongly against any objection to the situation at all.

Still...

"I don't want to hurt you."

[nocturnalmedicine]

She gives his wrist an affectionate squeeze, and breathes a soft, scratchy chuckle that stops nearly as soon as it starts.

"Ow."

She draws a steadying breath.

"Relax, Romeo — we're definitely on pause here." Her fingers skate up the back of his hand, charting the ridges of his knuckles. "I'm just trying to help you fix your face before it freezes like that."

[man_without_fear]

"Does that mean you aren't kicking me to the couch?" he asks, the corners of his mouth lifting up in a brief smile.

[nocturnalmedicine]

"Well ... "

Her hand leaves his to tame the disheveled mess she made of his hair.

"Not yet."

[man_without_fear]

Her fingers carding through his hair finishes the job of relaxing him.

Head bowing just a little, he gives a chuckle.

"Lucky me."

[nocturnalmedicine]

She smirks to herself as she strokes his temple.

"Damn straight."

Her fingertips brush the shell of his ear, following its curvature to the lobe; her touch lingers at the corner of his jaw.

"C'mere, Cuddles. We'll keep it PG this time."

[man_without_fear]

His head tilts and his chin lifts under the soft graze of her fingers.

"Cuddles?"

He smirks, and carefully settles back down beside her again.

[nocturnalmedicine]

She shifts her leg to accommodate him, and nudges her knee between his thighs.

"Bet you've been called worse."

[man_without_fear]

"I'd be lying to say I haven't," he replies, sliding his leg over hers, and closing a bit more of the distance between them.

[nocturnalmedicine]

She turns her head, nuzzling his shoulder as she burrows into her pillow.

"Is that a bedtime story on the tip of your tongue?"

[man_without_fear]

Matt gives a low chuckle, smelling her hair, the light scent of her skin.

"I'm sure that's a story you'd love to hear," he says, flashing a wry smirk, "but, I've got to be in the office in a few hours."

[nocturnalmedicine]

"Must be a long story."

[man_without_fear]

"Or, maybe there's more than one," he counters.

[nocturnalmedicine]

"Mm, that I do not doubt."

Lulled by the roar of the rainfall, her heavy eyelids slide shut; she blindly reaches for Matt's hand, leading his palm to her stomach.

[man_without_fear]

He turns his hand over to her, letting it rest lightly where she lays it.

There's fog in her voice, and he can hear and feel her breaths starting to drag out as she begins to relax.

He keeps his voice low, trying to coax her towards rest that she hasn't had enough of lately.

"So ready to believe the worst in me, Claire?"

[nocturnalmedicine]

The heat of his palm soaks past the thin cotton of her tank, warming her skin. With the welcome weight of his thigh on hers, and the quiet rumble of his voice near her ear, the city shrinks to this room, this bed, and this rain-slick moment: no blood, no broken bones between them — only the mild ache of Claire's ribs, and Matt's swollen knuckles beneath the pads of her fingers.

"I wouldn't be here if that were true."

[man_without_fear]

"So it isn't just because you hated staying with the cat," he replies, the low laughter in his voice not quite covering how deep her words settle within him.

How much they actually mean.