Actions

Work Header

What's Yours...

Summary:

Duncan can't figure out what's got everyone so amused.

Notes:

I have left the exact nature of their relationship ambiguous because it's more fun to leave it open to interpretation - read it as you will! Also, I left today's choice of trope untagged so as not to give the game away entirely. I'll probably come back and add it later.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It had become a regular thing, any time Jimmy sent a text to say he’d be working late. Duncan would detour to the station on his way home, bearing coffee and spare treats from the bistro, enough for the whole team. So regular, in fact, that he thought Tosh and Sandy must have gotten into the habit of lying in wait for him, so quickly did they pounce on him as soon as he stepped inside.

“You’re a lifesaver!”

“I could kiss you, Duncan Hunter!”

Duncan waved away the effusive gratitude even as it warmed him. As he turned to head to Jimmy’s desk, however, he caught the way Tosh’s smile faltered. It was only a flash of a thing, a curious knitting of her brows, before the smile was back, although perhaps now more smirk than smile, and quickly hidden behind her coffee cup.

Shrugging it off, he set the last coffee down in front of Jimmy. “Here you go, big fella.”

Inhaling the rich aroma, Jimmy hummed in appreciation. “Duncan, you’re a godsend.”

“I know,” he grinned, and placed a paper bag down next. “Make sure you eat these, too.”

“Yes, Mum,” Jimmy grumbled, but he was already taking a peek inside the bag. Duncan had made sure to save a couple of Jimmy’s favourites from the lunch menu, plus a pastry he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

“If you remembered to eat lunch once in a while, I wouldn’t need tae nag, would I?”

“You sound like Cassie.”

“She cares about you.” He gave Jimmy’s shoulder a squeeze. “As do I.”

Jimmy put a hand atop Duncan’s where it still rested on his shoulder, just for a moment, a touch that conveyed his thanks more eloquently than words.

At that moment, movement across the room caught Duncan’s eye. Tosh seemed to be nudging Sandy, a sharp elbow to the ribs, and mumbling something in his ear. Whatever it was prompted a squinty frown in response, the kind of expression that indicated Sandy was puzzling over a conundrum. Tosh gave a series of emphatic nods, ostensibly trying to convince him of something.

“What’s gotten into them two tonight?”

“Hm?” Jimmy followed Duncan’s gaze to where Tosh was now gesturing in their general direction. Both she and Sandy looked over at the same moment, quickly turning away again when they realised they were being watched. Sandy immediately started shuffling a stack of paper, trying to look busy, while Tosh slunk back to her desk with the air of a guilty toddler.

“I’ve no—” Jimmy broke off as he looked at Duncan properly for the first time since he’d arrived. A shadow of confusion crossed his face, quickly chased away as amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes. Duncan began to feel he was the only one not in on some secret joke.

“What?”

Jimmy smiled then, as it dawned on him that Duncan was truly unaware of the source of everyone's sudden interest. “You’re wearing my jumper.”

“Oh.” He looked down at the garment in question, his ears heating up. “Shite.” He’d been running late that morning, and in his rush had opened the door without properly preparing for the icy blast of wind that was waiting to greet him. He’d quickly grabbed the warmest thing close at hand, a sweater from the pile of fresh laundry. Realising it was Jimmy’s, he’d hesitated only a moment before tugging it on, pulling his own coat over the top. Slightly too large on his lean frame, it hung a little baggy, but was so warm and comfortable he’d worn it all day and not given it a second thought before heading to the station.

Now, embarrassed, he winced at having been caught out. “Sorry.”

Jimmy shook his head, still smiling. “It’s nae bother.”

He didn’t mind now, Duncan thought, but if Tosh and Sandy had noticed, he would bet others had too. “I think we’ll be the subject of local gossip for a while.”

A soft chuckle. “Ach, could be worse.”

“You don’t mind?” Duncan wasn’t sure if he was referring to the inevitable gossip or the fact of him borrowing Jimmy’s jumper at all. Probably both.

“Don’t worry, I’m no’ gonnae throw you in a cell for stealing my jumper.”

“Just add it to my list of misdemeanours, eh?”

“I’ll let you off with a caution this time.”

Duncan couldn’t help but think that this time implied there might be more times, and he found that possibility held a surprising appeal. Perhaps because of the way Jimmy’s gaze still lingered, amused but soft, and as warm as the sweater itself.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” It was probably best he make his exit before he embarrassed either of them any further. “Try not to be too late.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes, the gesture fond rather than irritated. For all his grumbling, he clearly didn’t mind the mother-henning. Which was lucky, as Duncan had no intention of stopping; someone had to look after the man when Cassie was away, take care of the little things he didn’t have time to do.

Jimmy’s attention was already returning to the report in front of him, so Duncan pushed the bag of food a little closer, a meaningful nudge. “Don’t forget.”

With a chuckle disguised as a long-suffering harrumph, Jimmy swatted at him. “Away you go.”

Tosh and Sandy were still shooting surreptitious glances their way, but obviously not as subtly as they’d hoped, for as Duncan made for the exit he heard Jimmy raise his voice across the room, gentle but authoritative. “Alright, back to work, you two. We’d all like tae get to our beds tonight.” And, as he pulled the door shut behind him, he caught the unmistakable sound of muffled giggling.

It was easy to guess what was going on in Tosh’s head, and Duncan allowed himself a smile as he turned up his collar, hunkered into the warmth of Jimmy’s jumper, and set off for home.

Notes:

This is my 100th fic posted to AO3, and almost didn't happen thanks to my laptop deciding I wanted to delete the doc. But soft Scottish husbands will not be defeated so easily, and neither will I. Now I just need a cake (and maybe some whisky) to celebrate.