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At first she thinks it’s endearing, cute even, that Jane keeps wearing his suit to bed. And in the air stream, or when they cuddle on his brown couch or in the back of a van on cases she doesn’t mind it one bit.
But when she wakes up for the third day in a row with a hard button pressed to her cheek, she doesn’t think it’s cute, or quirky or any other emotion she once might’ve felt whenever looking at his sleeping form dressed in outside clothes. She just thinks that it needs to stop.
Like every morning, Lisbon’s alarm wakes her at 6:30 am, her eyes flying open at the shrill sound and her arm flailing to hit the right button to silence it. Her mouth opens in a yawn and she squeezes her eyes shut as a small noise leaves her throat. “Morning.”, she mumbles, and receives nothing but an answering grunt in return. For all the talk about her not being a morning person, she has found that Jane, despite his protests, also isn’t in the best mood when just woken up. It’s typically him that forces her to shorten her showers or take her morning coffee to go, when he pulls her back under the covers and holds her hostage with his limbs. Not that she doesn’t like it, this touch-craving side of him. It makes her feel warm and gooey and like her limbs are made of jelly when he seemingly can’t not touch her or be too far away from her. What she doesn’t like though, is being late to work and explaining to her boss the reason for doing so, even though Abbott seems to greatly enjoy her misery.
Before that can happen again today, she quickly untangles their limbs, takes her leg off his body and pulls her wrist from his grip. “Hey.”, Jane mutters, blindly reaching for her arm again, immediately starving for her touch. His hands miss her by only a few millimeters as she slips out of bed, leaving the cocoon of warmth behind with a yearning glance. “You torture me, Lisbon.”
Sun pours into the room and onto the bed as she pulls apart the curtains, rays of light making Jane’s hair look like a halo of liquid gold on her white bedding. He squints at the brightness and turns his face away, mumbling into the pillow.
Lisbon leaves him behind as she makes her way to the bathroom, rubbing her eyes with another yawn. She winces in pain as her fingers find a patch of tender skin, and she prays to god that it’s not a zit in the middle of her face.
When she looks into the mirror she blinks, fingers finding the sore spot and lightly trailing the circular indentation on her cheek. The shape of the button is fading, but still visible, and from her jaw to her temple there’s a line from one of the seams.
She takes a deep breath. Not again.
Jane joins her in the bathroom as she’s getting dressed, humming now in an apparently better mood than 20 minutes ago. “Good morning.”, he smiles as comes to stand behind Lisbon, looking at her through the mirror. Their shoulders don't touch yet, but the atoms of their bodies seem to tunnel energy despite the distance, a phantom touch.
Instead of replying she points a finger to the faint red spot on her cheek, one eyebrow raised. He frowns, then smiles.
“Well, okay then.”, Jane says and leans forward, pressing his lips against her soft skin in a tender kiss, lasting mere seconds. When his eyes find hers again he’s beaming, she, not so much, or at least she's trying not to.
Lisbon shakes her head, points at her cheek again, she doesn’t quite manage to hide her blush at his affection. “I woke up with a button on my face, again.”, she says and turns her face so he can see the now almost faded circle. Jane gently grabs her chin to get a better look, presses another chaste kiss onto it. “I always did think you were as cute as a button.”, he mumbles, and notes with a smile as the tips of Lisbon’s ears turn pink.
She rolls her eyes, but the corners of her mouth pull into a smile. “Idiot.”
She brushes her teeth, sings a song in her head to keep track of the time, and watches as he mirrors her, his eyes seemingly always trained at her.
It’s this newfound domesticity that came with their relationship that Lisbon loves most. Of course there are other good things - Jane is more of a romantic than she ever imagined, he's a great kisser and the sex is amazing. It's one of the few times she's glad that he always seems to know exactly what she thinks, wants, needs.
But it's finding out little things about him that she didn't know before that she enjoys most. What flavour of toothpaste he prefers, what song he sings under the shower, in what order he eats his breakfast, how many spritzer of cologne he uses, how long he manages to watch a murder mystery before complaining about the ‘misleading clues’ and telling her how he would've figured it out in the first five minutes of being on scene.
She mostly rolls her eyes at the latter, and quickly makes to shut him up with her mouth until they're both breathless and aching and the TV is long forgotten.
Maybe it's unfair to use it against him, that knowledge of what she can do to him with one simple look, one innocent touch. How she can make his whole body still and then lightly vibrate with need - she has a feeling he doesn't really mind.
When she's ready in the bathroom and makes her way downstairs, Jane is in the kitchen working on breakfast. Scrambled eggs are sizzling in his favorite pan and a piece of buttered toast is already waiting on Lisbon's plate next to a steaming cup of coffee. He's wearing an apron that Stan got her a while back, it's a little short for him and on it it says in pink font ‘kiss the chef’.
Before she can sit down and enjoy her first sip of coffee, Jane turns to her with the spatula in his hand, pointing at his chest. It's their daily ritual (when they have the time) and Lisbon totters over with a barely contained smile to follow it.
His mouth slots over hers with a muffled groan and he gets the first taste of just her as he licks into her mouth, explores it like he's never been there before and wants to map it out. Lisbon's hands find his lapels, fingers toying with the fabric as she pulls him closer.
He absentmindedly remembers to stir the eggs as his other hand buries into her hair and his nails gently scrape over her scalp. Lisbon almost purrs.
To her surprise he's the one that pulls back first, looks at her with his pupils blown wide, covering almost all of the blue she loves so much. He nods his head towards the kitchen island and his voice is raspy as he speaks. “Sit and eat.”
Lisbon does as she's told, doesn't even bother telling him that Really, a granola bar and a coffee to go would be enough. She had tried, once, and he had merely chuckled and shaken his head and told her that he would take care of her properly - Jane had not needed to say His name to make his point clear.
Lisbon clears her plate and empties her cup and together they quickly tidy up the kitchen so nothing is in danger of becoming alive if they end up getting a new case that takes them across the country.
They get to the car a few minutes later, holding hands until they separate at the hood of Lisbon's car and get into their respective seats. The drive is quiet, music playing softly from the radio as Jane enjoys the view of Lisbon's focused face and her frown when someone cuts her off. At a red light he puts his hand over hers and gives it a brief squeeze, using every chance to touch her simply because he finally can.
Like in the elevator, when he puts his hands on her hips from behind and pulls her flush against him, peppering small kisses onto her neck and breathing in her scent. When the doors open they emerge like normal, greeting their co-workers with friendly smiles. Jane spots Cho in the kitchen and joins him, taking out his favorite blue cup and another one for Lisbon and getting their drinks ready.
The hours until lunch pass by in a blur. They don't have a case at the moment, so everyone is getting their affairs in order and writing and signing off reports that are long overdue, completing evidence sheets and answering E-mails. The office is filled with the sound of keyboards clicking, pages getting stapled together, colleagues joking around.
Jane watches from his couch, book in his hand, as Lisbon finally ceases typing and rolls her shoulders with a sigh. He closes his book and puts it to the side and gets up, crossing the few steps towards his girl and putting his hands on her tense shoulders.
His fingers dig into her muscles before she can protest, and instead a breathy groan escapes her throat. He stills for a moment, then he starts moving with more determination, knowing exactly where to strike to have her pliant in his hands.
“Jane.”, Lisbon breathes as he hits an especially sensitive spot, making him dig deeper exactly there, trying to extract more of those delicious noises. They're like a drug to him.
Before he can reach that other spot that has her thrumming with need, she leans forward, his hands falling from her shoulders into empty air. Lisbon clears her throat and gets up, pulling on her blazer as she stands.
“Oh.”, Jane exclaims, eyes lighting up at the prospect of using one of his discovered spots in the office that are hidden from the cameras for some fun with his girlfriend. He steps behind her, so close that his chest is brushing her back and her hairs nearly tickle his face. “Where are we going?”
“I need to run some errands.”, Lisbon says and turns around, facing a grinning Jane that's now nodding in mock seriousness, eyebrows raised. “Yes, right.”, he says, loud enough so everyone hears. “We need to run some errands.” His fingers make quick work to pull her hair out of her blazer, winking as his thumb grazes the soft skin of her neck.
“No.” Lisbon takes her car keys and her phone, watches as Jane tilts his head like a confused puppy. “I really need to run some errands. You stay here and try not to cause any trouble.”
She thinks for a moment and smooths a hand down his chest, straightens his lapels. “Minimal trouble, if possible.”
He nods, even though she can tell he's not really happy with her decision, would prefer to be glued to her side at all times. “Be back soon.”, he says and leans in a bit closer, his breath fanning across her neck as he nearly whispers her name, drawing out the ‘s’ like he always does.
She closes her eyes momentarily, then blinks and nods. “I'll hurry.”
17 minutes later, Lisbon is standing in the pajama aisle, looking at her options. There are absurdly many and she's honestly overwhelmed.
She knows that she wants something with long sleeves and legs, something that compliments his eyes and curls, something that he feels comfortable in.
The first three she considers are too thick, the next four are scratchy and seem uncomfortable. She walks down the aisle, tries to remember what the fabric of the dresses Jane had once gotten her felt like - she hopes that he had imagined touching, possibly hugging her, or more, so the fabric must've felt good to him too.
A dark blue set catches her eye and she grabs it, mesmerized at how soft and smooth the fabric feels in her hands. She lets it rub over her skin, imagines wrapping her arms and legs around Jane's body wrapped in the silky smooth garment. The smile that spreads over her face is uncontrollable.
She imagines his pajama next to hers, imagines him wearing merely the loose pants and the apron while making breakfast.
Lisbon stands in the pajama aisle and daydreams about her boyfriend with a huge grin on her face like she's a lovesick teenager.
She's one moment away from rubbing the fabric against her cheek when she comes back to her senses, and blushes profusely. “Jesus.”, she mumbles and lets her hair fall in front of her face, momentarily she considers using her badge to get them to delete the security footage.
Two more pairs of the same set find their way into Lisbon's arms, one in a dark green and one in black, then she makes her way to the register, leaving the store five minutes later with a brown paper bag in her hand.
She stuffs it into her trunk and makes her way back to work, already giddy for the next time Jane comes to sleep at hers.
It happens four days later.
They order dinner from Lisbon's favourite Thai place and eat it on the couch while watching tv. Some quiz show is on and they answer the questions while drinking wine - Jane miraculously knows every answer, so Lisbon accuses him of having watched the episode already, which he, of course, denies with a shit-eating grin.
When they're done eating they cuddle up on the couch, Jane's fingers playing with the ends of her hair while her thumb rubs circles on his chest.
If they had any more energy, they'd be undressed in bed already, showing each other just how much they had missed having time alone together. But the case had been challenging and exhausting on multiple levels, keeping them up for hours and hours of interrogations and observations.
So after lazily making out for 20 minutes against the kitchen counter while waiting for their food, both Jane and Lisbon had agreed that tomorrow would also be a day, and that they could spend their whole day off in bed if they pleased.
Lisbon yawns and presses her face deeper into the warmth of Jane's chest, inhaling the lingering scent of his cologne. “Tired?”, Jane asks quietly and presses a kiss onto the top of her head. He doesn't even wait for an answer before turning off the tv. The faint glow that previously brightened the room is gone, and now only a small lamp throws long shadows on the wall. “Let's go to bed.”
Lisbon wants to say something, that he doesn't have to mind her, that he can watch tv while she rests, but another yawn silences her as she covers her mouth and blinks slowly like a cat, her green eyes almost black in the darkness of the room. “Yes.”, she whispers and pushes off Jane's chest, rubbing a hand over her face. She doesn't remember the last time a case drained her this much, made her crave her bed so badly.
“You go get ready.”, Jane says and kisses her forehead. “I'll join you once I'm done with the dishes.”
Lisbon doesn't protest as he pulls her to her legs and ushers her up the stairs. She takes a quick shower and puts on her pajamas and brushes her teeth with Jane when he joins her upstairs. It's routine at this point, and the fact fills her with warmth all over. She never would've imagined it being like this, never dared to.
It's also routine, when Jane walks towards the bed in his suit and makes to lie down.
“Stop!”, Lisbon exclaims, too loud. “Stop.”, she repeats, quieter. Jane looks to her, body two seconds away from touching the covers, and stills. His brow quirks and there's a bemused smile pulling at the corners of his lips. For once he doesn't know what she's on about.
Instead of explaining, Lisbon pulls open the top drawer of her dresser and pulls out a dark blue garment. Jane just barely manages to catch it when she throws it at his chest with no real strength.
The dark fabric is silky smooth in his hands as he looks at the piece of clothing he is holding.
“Well.”, he says as he holds it in front of him and gives it a once over, then looks back to her. “A bit more casual than what you usually wear to the office but you'd still look great, love.” His grin lights up the dim room like the sun.
Lisbon crosses her arms, raises a brow. “Ha ha.” Jane studies her expression, then looks back to the piece in his hands.
“You got me a pajama.”, he states, his voice thick with an emotion Lisbon has heard only a few times in their decade long partnership. He brings the garment to his face and takes a deep breath. It smells fresh and clean, like her detergent, but there's also a faint note of just her, probably from being in the same dresser as her clothes, and he's obsessed at once. If he could, he'd carry a piece of her clothing around at all times just to be able to keep this smell, like a child with their favorite blanket. (It's not that he decided against it, but that Lisbon thought it to be rather strange if someone were to see him laying on his couch with one of her shirts tucked under his nose.)
Other than her back in the store, he has no problem with rubbing the fabric against his cheek, marveling at how smooth it feels against his skin. “I got you a pajama.”, Lisbon confirms, her face softening. “And I want you to wear it to bed.” “That's usually where you wear it, yes.” Lisbon rolls her eyes with a smile, reaches into the drawer to pull out the pants and give them to him. “Go.”
The door to the bathroom opens 10 minutes later. The book Lisbon was reading finds its way back to her nightstand and she sits up straight in bed, her hands playing with the duvet.
Jane walks out slowly, naked feet on hardwood floor, and stops a few steps away from the bed. Lisbon eyes him from top to bottom, the way the fabric hugs his body, the hint of chest hair peeking out at the top, the way the pants sit loosely on his hips. If he lifted his arms she’d be blessed with the sight of the sliver of skin just above his waistband. She looks him over once more and she simultaneously feels her mouth going dry and saliva pooling. He looks beautiful, and unsexy in the sexiest way possible and she begins to understand why he goes feral for her in lounge wear. She swallows hard. “Do you like them?”, she asks, and finally manages to snap her eyes up to his face to find him studying her face, probably trying to read her reaction.
“They’re really soft.”, he says and strokes his right hand down his chest - there is no way he misses the expression that flies over Lisbon’s face as she follows the movement of his hand like a hawk. He repeats the motion just to be sure. “Let me see.”, Lisbon says with a thin voice, already reaching out to touch him. Jane smirks, and even though they both know that nothing is going to happen between them until they have at least gotten a few hours of sleep, he humors her and gets into bed beside her.
Her hands are on his chest immediately, feeling the soft fabric and all that’s beneath with feather light touches that have him shuddering. She gently traces the seam down his chest to his navel and back up, then runs her whole hand over his pecs and down to his waist. “Teresa.”, he warns with a quiet voice, as her hand threatens to slip under his top. She smiles and continues her exploration over his clothes, mesmerized by the amount of skin the low collar reveals. The tip of her finger traces his collar bones, then the column of his throat and finally his jaw, his cheek. When her eyes make their way to his, she finds him gaping at her like she’s ethereal, like he can’t believe she’s real.
“They look good on you.”, she says quietly, not wanting to burst the bubble that has formed around them. Jane does not speak, instead he just keeps looking at her, tracing her face and always coming back to her eyes - blue meeting green, his favorite combination.
Silence stretches around them as she holds his face in her hands, lightly traces her thumbs over his cheekbones, the only sound their slow breathing.
Lisbon brings her face to his, feels his breath fan on her neck as she tenderly kisses his cheek, then his brow, his temple, his chin, and finally his lips. There’s nothing frantic about the way their lips move against each other slowly, about the way her hand finds its way into his curls. She alternates between light tugs and gentle scrapes against his scalp, and by the time they pull apart Jane’s eyes are half-closed, only a sliver of blue peeking at her through blonde lashes.
Another chaste kiss finds its way onto his lips, then Lisbon reaches behind her to turn off the lights. It takes them only seconds to find their ideal sleeping position, Lisbon’s head on his chest, his arm around her, her leg over his hip, his hand around her wrist.
A happy sigh escapes her lips as she settles in, her face now mushed against a comfortable chest instead of a button or a fancy looking seam or a coin Jane forgot to take out of his chest pocket.
“You’re so much more comfortable now.”, she mumbles and presses a kiss onto his chest before snuggling closer. His heart under her palm is beating a slow rhythm, and she knows from experience that it’ll take him only minutes to fall asleep, and that she’ll follow him soon after. “Glad to be of service.”, Jane mutters, slurring together the letters as sleep slowly but surely overcomes him, and Lisbon knows that he means it. She closes her eyes, and can’t help but smile as sleep claims her in the arms of her lover.