Work Text:
morning dew gave the already picturesque scenery wolf trap’s farmside an even more gentle touch. there, with the dogs running through the damp grass and the cawing noise of ravens and crows brushed by the air with delay. too lazy to be present -- after all, was this not a lazy morning?
softly, the door creaks open. its pathway to the ground will steps on. its what he crosses before he exhales the warmth of his coffee away from its mug. he sees the dew and the way the sun blows soft, shy rays -- barely a yellow tone to the blue sky that envelops the aurora above. clouds barely clock in, too far into the town-side to greet will’s farmhouse.
he inhales now, letting the cold, fresh air fill his lungs. he wastes a bit of time just.. breathing. this air never been as welcoming as it is this morning, and he can’t help but wonder why it is this way now.
why now?
the thought dies in surprise when arms envelop him from behind. soft, uncovered, undressed. the soft, pale and freckled skin brushes against his sleep-shirt and slides under, warm skin meeting even warmer one.
“good morning”, her voice brushes his ear -- or his neck, given the difference in height where his feet meet the ground, and hers. disheveled blonde nuzzles his back. its pale cream, almost peach toned, is messy and unkept from what can only be described as a pleasing night of sleep. nor jane nor will have been able to keep sleep since the newest case wave began. sleepless nights, exchanging a good moment of rest to neon pale lights and iridescent hues, blood bags, bodies and pictures...
will can’t even make himself think of the moments he works right now. not with her so warm against his back. she’s soft, shes pliant. her chest nuzzles his back in a closure that does spark multiple sensations down his worn out bones. should he even worry about these things is something he doesn’t consider.
jane squeezes her arms around his torso when he delays returning her greeting -- that makes him smile, scratching his beard with bitten nails and turning his head to her meeting. forehead meets crown, hairs messily tangle.
“good morning”, he responds. will’s voice is kept in a dynamic she can get used to. slow, rough. naturally worn. its like his nonstop teaching and work have been taking a toll not only in his mind and body, but voice as well. for some, she doesn’t mind. she lets him have that roughness to him, finding corners where he meets soft.
the dogs bark. they are loud and.. obnoxious when they want to be, but in that instant, that moment of reverie, they are not. they are simple passerbies. noise in the painting, flowers in the garden. they blend in well with the mundane feeling this all carries.
will wouldn’t say out loud, but he can tell his life is finding its anchor. her. it has found her.
he can remember how she looked when they met. it will always be somewhat ironic : a deer in headlights, innocent looking, wide and round, looking at him in such a stunned gaze. then she spoke, and things just started turning different.
gears would turn. engines would work. things would just make sense with jane around.
will saw himself inviting her around more and more often. he couldn’t help it. sometimes, they’d be excused around paranoia. then, they became more sincere.
no longer insistent knocks on closed and empty-around doors would be the reason for his demanding visits. fishing trips, spotting deers, fawns ;; simply wanting to see her freckles on his bed.
“you made coffee”, her voice states the calm, the warm notion he prepared them a beverage for morning laziness. will nods in response, turning his body slightly -- just so he can rest his back against the frame, and slots his palm ( the one that didn’t clutch the mug ) on her hip. it didn’t stay there long, quickly finding a better fit in the curve of her waist.
jane herself took a turn to unwrap and rewrap her arms. from his warm stomach to his neck, she found a nicer closeness that way.
even if posed, none of them would admit romance. at least, they had reasons to hesitate.
would will even find himself fixed enough by now to let her fill him with love without the fullness slipping through cracks? would she trust broken whispers by now? her body and mind were unaccustomed with gentleness, and will was still all rough edges, while she was even and smooth.
“jack didn’t call yet” jane murmurs, with will letting out a whined groan at the mention of boss and BSU. “thankfully. maybe he won’t today”.