Work Text:
it was four in the morning, and you were pretty sure the humming of the air conditioner was going to be the final straw for what remained of your composure.
you were just trying to sleep.
careful, measured breaths- in, held, and released- had helped to ease the tumbling feeling in your stomach, but now your focus had shifted from the rise and fall of your chest to the rattling of the vent in the wall.
bullshit.
it was bullshit, all of it. and you were tired. and you just wanted to go to sleep so you would have a fighting chance the next day, and instead you were fighting the urge to take the baseball bat from jason’s side of the bed and smash the vent in on itself.
sure, it wouldn’t make it any quieter, but it was starting to sound more and more cathartic with every passing moment.
at this rate, jason would be home by the time you fell asleep, and that would mean at least half an hour of watching him get settled and making sure he was okay and soaking up his presence like he was the sun and you were a starving tree before you could actually go to sleep.
a wave of sudden yearning swept through you, making you screw your eyes shut as hard as you could. you clumsily reached for the spare pillow, tugging it to your chest and clinging to it with every ounce of strength you had.
maybe if you used all of your strength up hugging the pillow, you’d exhaust yourself to the point of sleep. maybe you could just… force your anxiety out of your body, by making it so tense that there was no room in your muscles for worry.
it actually seemed to make your nerves worse, and now you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears, which was somehow more frustrating than the damn air vent-
a rustling noise cut through your thoughts, catching your breath in your throat as you strained to listen.
“aw, shit,” jason’s frustrated grumble was so quiet you almost didn’t hear it, but there it was- he was home.
and he sounded much better than the air vent.
you sat up, your death grip on the pillow loosening some as you squinted through the dark room at the doorway.
it felt like eons passed before his silhouette appeared. you hadn’t heard him move from the living room, but considering the hour, that didn’t surprise you much.
he probably assumed you were asleep, you realized with a wry smile. asleep like you should be.
“i don’t suppose you’re sleep-staring.”
“i wish.”
he sighed, trudging towards the bed and leaning over it to kiss your forehead. “everything alright?”
“anxious. and everything’s too loud. i want to rip the air conditioning out and throw the vent cover into the street just to watch someone run it over with a truck.”
“i see,” he muttered softly, pulling back and bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. “will you be okay if i go shower?”
“mhm. you can’t get in bed like that.”
a quiet chuckle found your ears, making you smile slightly. “i don’t think the shower will be any quieter than the air.”
you nodded, not bothering with a clever retort. not having the energy. “i know.”
“okay. i’ll be quick. do you need anything?”
“are you okay?”
his thumb rubbed your cheek gently. “that’s not an answer, y'know.”
“jason.”
he sighed again. “just a few scrapes.”
“and?”
“that’s it- oh.” he paused, thumb slowing for a moment as though he was lost in thought- or, if you had to guess, taking stock of his body. “i think my arm’s bruised, but it doesn’t hurt. the scrapes are the worst, and they’re nothing i can’t clean up on my own, okay?”
you nodded again, gently nuzzling into his hand. “okay. glad you’re safe.”
“i’ll be back in a few.”
his hand trailing away from your skin was expected, but it still left the area feeling cold and empty.
you flopped back down on your side of the bed, listening to him grab clothes and make his way into the bathroom.
he was right, the shower was just as loud as the air conditioning had been, and you spent the ten minutes it took him to scrub the night off of him staring at the ceiling and wondering how you could feel so awake when your entire body was begging you to fall asleep.
the water stopped, and you rolled to face the door.
another ten minutes passed, filled with the quiet noises of him getting dressed and getting food.
you passed the time trying to guess what he was eating based on the few noises that traveled from the kitchen to your ears.
you didn’t bother asking when he walked back in, silently offering you his cup as he brushed his teeth.
he disappeared while you took a few small sips of water, returning a few moments later to take a sip of his own. “you want any more?”
“i’m good.”
he hummed, setting the cup on the nightstand and sitting down next to you. “bedtime?”
“bedtime,” you sighed, leaning against his shoulder and enjoying the soft scent of his body wash.
“bedtime usually involves lying down,” he pointed out gently, amusement clear in his voice.
“you have a comfortable shoulder.”
“c'mon, scoot over.” he nudged you slightly, and you obliged, shifting back from him and letting him lay down. once he was settled, he patted his shoulder, moving his arm up to create a space for you.
you slid forwards, laying down next to him. you curled into his side and rested your head on his chest, bringing a hand up to reach for his.
your hands met over his stomach, fingers intertwining and his thumb tracing yours. “i’ve got you.”
for the first time that night, you felt secure.
his even breaths lulled you to sleep soon after.