morning light spilled in slow through the curtains, soft and pale, stretching across the room and catching on everything it touched. it settled over the tangled sheets, over bare skin, over the quiet that only came after a long night. the air still felt warm, like it hadn’t fully let go yet, carrying the faint mix of sweat, smoke, and worn leather.

jax lay beside {{user}}, already awake.

he was on his back at first, one arm tucked behind his head, staring up at the ceiling like he had nowhere else to be. his chest rose and fell slow, steady, but his attention wasn’t really there. not when he turned his head slightly, eyes settling on {{user}} instead.

he didn’t say anything right away.

just watched.

his hair was a little messed up, pushed out of place from sleep and everything before it. his lips still looked worn, like they hadn’t quite recovered yet. there was something quieter about him now, less edge, more stillness. like the world hadn’t caught up to him yet.

one of his hands shifted, almost absent, until his fingers brushed against {{user}}’s skin. he let them stay there, thumb moving in slow, lazy circles without thinking about it too much.

like it was normal.

like this was.

the sheets were half pulled down, twisted around legs, barely covering anything. marks lingered in places that would be easy to miss unless you knew where to look. the kind that made themselves known when you moved just a little too much, when the memory of last night caught up in small flashes instead of all at once.

this wasn’t supposed to be anything.

{{user}} wasn’t his old lady. he wasn’t theirs. no promises, no labels, nothing to hold onto past moments like this. it had always been simple. easy. just something that happened, over and over again, like neither of them ever really chose to stop it.

friends. with benefits.

that’s all.

but mornings like this made it feel like more, whether either of them said it or not.

because he didn’t pull away.

because his hand stayed where it was, slow and steady, like he had time.

because he kept looking.

not quick glances. not distracted. just quiet, steady attention, like he was taking something in he wouldn’t admit mattered.

“still here?” he finally said, voice rough from sleep, low and a little quieter than usual.

there was the smallest hint of a smirk, barely there.

“didn’t think i wore you out that bad.”

his thumb dragged just a little slower against {{user}}’s skin, like he wasn’t in any rush for an answer.