Okay imagine for a second that Kirsty is helping Jimmy pack for his trip and he’s picking out some nice shirts. The casual stuff he usually wears, but now he’s asking “do you like this color on me?” and trying to put together outfits like he’s worried he won’t look good, because she won’t be there to help him.
She says, “They’re already your friends you know,” with a little laugh. “They already like you. And so do your fans.” It’s cute that after all this time, he’s still trying to impress them.
Jimmy just kind of hums and nods his head, like that’s not really what he’s worried about.
“I just haven’t met Tango in person before, so, that’s exciting.”
There’s a few people going that he hasn’t met before. Skizz, Impulse, Pearl. But the fact that he mentions Tango specifically feels… pointed, somehow, to Kirsty. It doesn’t click for her, until later that night in bed. They’re winding down to go to sleep, and Jimmy’s tapping away on his phone and giggling at the group chat as usual. Well. She thinks it’s the groupchat, until she turns on her side and snuggles up to him, and realizes he’s just messaging Tango, thumbs fluttering over the keyboard on his phone screen.
He doesn’t try to turn away from her or hide his screen, he’s not like that, but it gives her a funny feeling in her belly anyway. Not exactly jealously. Something she can’t quite put her finger on.
“Do you have a crush on Tango?” she asks, and instantly feels Jimmy’s body stiffen next to her. She’s not joking around, and he can clearly tell by her tone. It’s a genuine question.
“What?” he asks, softly. “No. No, I love you.”
“Of course you do,” Kirsty says, huffing out a little laugh, and she snuggles into him again, trying to get him to relax. “Doesn’t mean you can’t have a crush on someone else, too.”
Jimmy’s quiet for a minute, looking bewildered, still holding his phone in position though now the screen has shut off with disuse.
“Kirsty, what’s brought this on?”
She almost laughs, but part of her feels as though this might be an important moment. One not to be ruined. Something to be tread carefully.
“I know you like older men, Jame,” she says, and the use of her personal nickname seems to relax him a little, shoulders softening. “I know we’ve talked about that before. And. And, you like Tango. Quite a bit.”
“I’m. I don’t–” Jimmy splutters, but trips over his own words.
“I’m not mad,” Kirsty clarifies. “I just– I think it’s cute that you want to look nice for him.”
“Nothing would happen,” Jimmy says, immediately giving the game away. “He’s married. He has kids.”
“You never know,” Kirsty says, and suddenly, she’s thinking about it too. She knows how Jimmy likes to be handled. He can be pretty vanilla when it comes to the bedroom; they are a boy-girl couple and they do what they’re supposed to and it’s always fun and it always feels good. But occasionally when the moods strikes him, once in a blue moon, she knows exactly how he likes to be pushed around. Forced down to his knees or onto his belly (or both in succession). It’s rare, but every time it happens she gets a taste of something Jimmy’s pushing down inside himself that’s dying to get out. Something submissive and desperate.
“Nothing would happen,” Jimmy says again, but he sounds less convinced this time, like his mind has drifted, too.
“If it did, you’d tell me about it, right?” She asks, and feels for him under the duvet. He’s half-hard in his pajama pants, and he groans softly when she slips her hand inside. “Send me a picture so I have something to keep me warm while you’re gone? Flowers to ease your guilty conscience? You’d have to give me all the dirty details when you come home to me.”
“Kirs,” he says, and she loves it when he calls her that, when he whines and it sounds like curse. Because she’s driving him mad.
“Trousers off,” she tells him, and then laughs because she’s never seen him move so fast.
A week later she awakens to an empty house, and a delivery of white roses on their doorstep. And she knows. And she can’t wait for Jimmy to come home.
