thelongdormantcop | (no subject)

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grace faraday

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They wake up like this most mornings now, curled together, in one or the other's bed. Though it's been months now since they both got here, Jerry still finds that he has trouble getting used to it, despite the fact that he's pretty sure they've had just about as long, if not longer, in Darrow than they did sneaking around behind Cohen's back. He just never thought for a second, back then, that they'd get to have this. Hell, he wasn't even sure if she'd want it, no matter how logical it might have been. (It wouldn't have made sense, after all, for her to go to all that trouble and take all those risks if it were just about getting laid.) Now, even if they haven't exactly clarified what this is or what they're doing, it's at least a lot clearer now, when it couldn't have been before. That's what really matters to him.

It just makes it all the more breathtaking to wake up beside her, knowing that neither of them really has to rush off anywhere. Even on days when he has to get to the station, or when she's had work to get to, neither of them is as pressed to get out the door as she used to be, or even as he was when the squad started requiring so much of his time. They can have this now, no more hurrying to someone else or pretending like they don't wish things could be different. Strange as living in this city is, as much as there are aspects of it that he finds unsettling, even unlikable, what they've gotten in return is more than worth it. He worries more than he'd care to admit about what would have happened back in Los Angeles, but he isn't sure he'd trade this freedom for anything. They both did more than their share of fighting. They deserve the break they've gotten from that, he thinks.

Whatever else has changed, he still gets up early, too used to it not to, the sun slanting through the blinds drawn over his window. At his side, Grace is still asleep, or she looks like it, and he considers for a moment waking her, but he doesn't have the heart to. She looks too peaceful like this, too beautiful. Though he wouldn't know how to tell her so, he's long since thought that she looked best this way, without makeup, her hair a little mussed, not pretending in the slightest. Now is no exception. It keeps him from looking away from her as he starts to carefully draw himself away, not wanting to stir her, but figuring he might as well start breakfast or something. He doesn't get very far before he can't help reaching over, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, chest tight as he does. "I love you," he says, soft. It's been true for a long damn time now, he thinks, and maybe he wouldn't know how to tell her directly, but there's still something almost relieving in saying so, proof in itself that it's more than true. He's goddamn crazy about her, and he can't pretend otherwise.

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She can feel it, the soft sound he makes, the reverberations against her skin making her whimper. Grace has always liked this about him, how attentive he is, how much he cares about making sure she feels good. She likes everything about him right now, though, the slide of his tongue and the heat under her skin and the slight pressure of his fingers at her hip making her want that much more, until she has to remind herself to keep breathing. As badly as she wants even more, though, she won't say it. She doesn't want this to be over so soon.

Just that faint sound is enough to get under Jerry's skin, leave him wanting both to draw this out and to do far more than this. Much as he wants her, he's almost surprised that he's been able to hold out this long. Determined as he is to see her through to the end, though, to make it good for her, he isn't going to rush. He finds a middle ground instead, replacing his tongue with a finger, drawing back just enough to close his lips over her clit, sucking gently.

Grace arches her back, whimpering, and there's nothing else right now but him, closed eyes keeping out everything else but pinpoints of light and color and the way his mouth feels on her, the warmth enveloping her. "Jerry," she says, dry-mouthed and breathless, some of the languor leaving her now as she feels herself getting that much closer. If she has to wake up, this is the best possible way to do that.

He'd respond if he could, but right now, Jerry wouldn't pull away for it. He would much rather keep going, every sound she makes, every repetition of his name, making him want her all the more. While he can be plenty patient, he still can't hold out forever, and once he's seen her through to the end, he knows he's going to be half-desperate for her. All he can do, though, is keep going, sucking gently, sliding a second finger into her alongside the first.

Grace presses her tongue to her teeth, a faint drop of pain to temper the pleasure, torn between pursuing more and trying to hold off. The decision is easy, though, made without much thought, her hips working toward him. "Jerry," she says again, a plea this time. She can feel herself getting closer, the pressure and wanting so good it's nearly unbearable. "Harder, more."

He'd been planning on getting to that anyway, but there's something particularly gratifying about hearing her ask him to. Besides, right now, he doesn't think there's anything he could deny her. Without wasting a moment, he picks up speed a little, fingers thrusting harder into her with more intent now, thoughts of making this last quickly leaving him.

"Oh, fuck," Grace whimpers, fingers tightening in the sheets. She'd bet her knuckles are white just about now, but she doesn't care enough to look, biting her lip hard to keep from crying out. Between his mouth and his fingers, she sometimes thinks she might lose her mind, but she's hard pressed to care, giving up on the effort to keep quiet a moment later, not caring how much noise she makes. Already she can't help thinking ahead to having him inside her, to hearing him say he loves her again. "Jerry, I'm — please —"

It's more difficult than Jerry would care to admit to swallow a groan at the way she sounds, though he manages. Just listening to her makes him want her all the more, though, enough that it's nearly maddening, and all the more reason to give her what she wants. Sucking a little more insistently, he thrusts his fingers harder into her, the best he can do without being able to ask for any kind of clarity. It isn't as if there's all that much else he could do anyway.

It doesn't take much longer at all before it's too much, and Grace tenses as she comes, letting out a hoarse cry, everything reduced to light and pleasure, a hand drifting down to run through his hair. Panting, she relaxes again in short measure, all but sinking into the bed. There's nothing better, she's sure of that, nothing she likes more than being in bed with him and nothing as good to wake up to as this.

It nearly comes as a relief, finally pushing her over the edge, though Jerry can't help wishing he had more of a view of her than being down here gives him. Still, he coaxes her through it, fingers slowing and mouth growing gentler until he draws both back entirely, pressing a kiss to her hipbone and then sucking at the skin there, just enough that he wouldn't be surprised if the mark stayed visible. "Fuck," he says, breathless, and shifts higher over her. "Grace."

Grace lets out a soft sigh, reaching for him with eyes still closed. She could just about drift off to sleep again, she feels so relaxed, but she isn't about to, not now. Maybe when they're finished, she will, just for a little while as he makes breakfast. It's so cozy, the very thought of it downright domestic, it leaves her smiling, looking at him through half-lowered lashes as she urges him closer.

Jerry takes his time moving back over her, lips trailing slowly back up her chest, until he's gotten high enough that he can roll back onto the mattress, trying to draw her with him. Especially when it's still this early, he doesn't see any reason why they shouldn't just stay in bed right now, and besides, he wants her close, hand settling on the curve of her waist. "I love you," he murmurs. He might as well do so again.

Grace smiles, curling against him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, too relaxed to do anything more. All she wants now is to stay close to him and to keep hearing those words, to be like this forever. It's overwhelming, in the best possible way, and for a moment, she can't speak at all. She tucks her face against his, forehead at his temple, nose skimming his cheek, and she still can't breathe right, soft and shallow. "Best three words I ever heard," she says, and though she tries to keep her tone light, it's next to impossible for how true it is.

"Well, it's true," Jerry murmurs, absently stroking her hair with his free hand, expression nothing but fond. He wants her badly, that hasn't changed, but it isn't enough to have him in any kind of a hurry. That's not the point, and even if he doesn't think he could hold out all that long, for the moment, he's more than content enough just to lie here with her, keeping her close. This is hardly how he anticipated this morning would go, but he's pretty fucking glad that it has. "Gracie."

It leaves her reeling, knowing how hard it hits her to hear him say these things. It's as if she hasn't known that for months, somehow. Grace knows he loves her, she's known it for ages, but this now, this is something altogether different, her heart full to bursting, as if she might cry with happiness. She hides her face against his neck, glowingly bashful as she could never be around anyone else. She forces a deep breath, letting out a shaky laugh. "Do you know," she says, "I don't think I've ever been so happy as you make me." It's a bittersweet thing, a reminder of a lonely life, but for now, she prefers to think of the sweet.

It's not as nice to hear as it probably should be, if only because Jerry doesn't like to think about the reasons why that's the case. On one hand, it does mean a lot that he can be that for her, especially when he remembers too well not being the only guy in her life, and when it took so long for them to get here at all. For a while, he hadn't thought that they ever would. Even so, despite the fact that he wouldn't know how to say so, he wishes things had been better for her before. Ducking his head to press a kiss to the top of hers, he shrugs easily. "Yeah, well," he says, "I could say the same."

There isn't a thing in the world that could make Grace stop fighting for more than she's got, but here and now, his arms around her, the ghost of his kiss against her hair, she's content all the same. It's easy with him to think she could be happy just as she is, her life quiet and simple. Though she isn't sure she's meant for that sort of thing, he makes her want to try, at least. Pressing a kiss to his neck, she smiles, lifting herself a moment later to lean over him, kiss him on the lips. "Good," she says softly. "I'm glad. I want to make you happy." They've both had a hard enough time of it already. Surely it's time for a change.

"You do," Jerry says, fingers running absently through her hair. Though he thinks it should be obvious, he's at least figured out that he can't really count on that being the case. That hardly matters, though, when he has no reason to mind saying so, when he spent so long not really able to. He could have, probably, but it wouldn't have been fair to either of them back home, just like doing anything more to try to get her to stay that morning wouldn't have been. Now, though, it's all different. He can be as selfish as he damn well pleases, at least where Grace's affection is concerned. "Of course you do."

Grace knows that, of course. He can't be happy all the time, but she sees the way he looks at her, the way she can make him grin sometimes doing nothing at all. Moments like those mean the world to her. He doesn't have to say a word and her whole heart lights up with it, warm and satisfied. She couldn't ever tire of hearing it, though, nudging gently against his hand before she presses a kiss to his shoulder. "Well, at least there's one thing I'm good at," she jokes. "Good thing it's an important one."

There's plenty she's good at, Jerry thinks, though he doubts the point is for him to just go on and on about it. He wouldn't know where to start, anyway. He just knows that, while some of the more conventional things may not be her forté, there's a lot more to consider than just that, especially since he doesn't care much about any of it. "Goes a pretty long way," he says, clearly teasing, the corners of his mouth lifting a little higher. "I mean, I'd say it counts for a lot, anyway."

"You would," Grace says lightly, raising herself up to kiss him again. She would, too, though. Oh, she used to think those girls were silly, but she's not like them even so. His happiness may be the most important thing to her, the best thing she can do, but it isn't as if she's given up on her own dreams. She means to have her own career even if he marries her one day, and she can't imagine Jerry's the kind of man to expect otherwise. Smiling, she leans close, eyes closed. "I love you."

"Yeah," Jerry says, soft. "I love you, too." It's been true for so long that saying it still feels a little strange, though not in any kind of way that he minds. If anything, it's all the more reason to keep telling her as much, something he doubts she'd have any kind of objection to. Kissing her again, he draws back only to shift beside her, doing his best to roll them over so he can be on top of her. Lying in bed is all well and good, but he can't hold out forever.

Grace laughs, rolling easily at his urging, her arms wrapping around him again. Maybe it's unnecessary to keep on saying it, but oh, she loves to hear it. It feels as if she's waited her whole life for it, as if those words have brought an unexpected release, a relief. She has somewhere she belongs, someone to belong to. "It's so silly," she says. "I already knew you did. I don't know why it means so much to hear." It's not like it changes anything. He's loved her for a long time now, she knows he has. And yet, it matters so much.

"Yeah, I don't know either," Jerry says, kissing her jaw, her neck, his hand trailing from her waist down over her hip and thigh, mostly just to keep touching her. For that matter, he doesn't know why it took so long to say, when he knew he did all that time, too -- knew it practically since he met her, he thinks -- but that doesn't have to matter now. What does is that he has said it, that so has she, that there's still a whole morning ahead of them to spend like this. "But I'm glad it does."

Edited 2013-11-17 04:56 (UTC)

"Well, of course it does," Grace says, though she's just finished saying she doesn't know why. It still seems readily apparent to her that it would, after all. A declaration of love isn't easily come by. She'd hardly thought to receive any meant genuinely in her life, at least until he wandered along into her life. More than that, after everything they've been through, it feels good — a confirmation, perhaps, of why she fought to get here at all. Her eyes closed, she sighs, tracing circles against his shoulder. "It means everything to me. You do."