Work Text:
River discovered the light switch by accident.
He’d stayed over on a Tuesday — nothing dramatic, just late, and then somehow not leaving.
In the morning, he’d padded into the hallway in socks, still foggy with sleep, reached out
—and yelped.
The shock wasn’t dramatic.
It wasn’t sparks or smoke or anything that would have justified the noise River made — just a sharp, unmistakable bite in his fingertips as he flicked the switch.
“—Christ.”
The light came on anyway.
River stood very still in the hallway, heart kicking a little harder than necessary, staring at the perfectly innocent glow now filling Annie’s flat.
From the bedroom, Annie’s voice drifted out, “Are you ok?”
He stared at the switch again.
“…Did you know your light switch bites?”
There was a pause.
Then, casually:
“Oh, I’m sorry. I should have told you.”
River turned slowly.
“Should have told me?”
She appeared in the doorway, barefoot, hair damp from the shower, towelling it absentmindedly as she looked at him.
“It does that sometimes,” she said. “You’ve just got to sort of… jab the middle bit. Not the edge.”
She demonstrated, poking the switch with a knuckle like this was a normal, sane thing to be doing.
River looked at her.
Then at the switch.
Then back at her.
“How long,” he asked carefully, “has it been doing that?”
She thought about it.
“…A while?”
The word lodged, heavier than it should have been.
“A while,” he repeated.
“Don’t make that face,” she said. “It’s not every time.”
“You live alone,” he said.
“Yes.”
“And you’ve been accepting mild electrocution as a lifestyle choice.”
She shrugged. “Honestly, if you just press the middle it’s fine.”
River closed his eyes for a second, heart thudding harder than it should have.
She reached past him to demonstrate again. River caught her wrist mid-motion.
“No,” he said firmly. “Do not touch it.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You sound very serious.”
“I am serious.”
He pointed at the switch like it might lunge at her.
“Promise me you won’t touch that until I fix it.”
She smiled — soft, amused, fond in a way that made him suspicious.
“Promise,” she said, and hooked her little finger around his.
He hesitated.
“Proper promise,” he said. “No jabbing. No clever workarounds.”
“I solemnly swear,” she said. “Pinkie.”
“Annie, it’s dangerous.”
“I won’t do it again.”
He studied her face, trying to decide if she was just humouring him.
Satisfied — or as close as he ever got — he kissed her forehead.
“I’ll sort it tonight.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I absolutely do.”
He stopped by his flat after work to pick up some more clothes and grab his toolbox.
And then stopped at B&Q on the way to hers.
It felt… grounding. Walking the aisles.
Knowing exactly what he needed. His grandad had taught him — rewiring switches at the kitchen table, explaining patiently why you never cut corners with electrics.
“Do it properly,” he’d said. “Or don’t do it at all.”
River did not do things halfway.
After dinner, Annie hovered while he worked, leaning in the doorway, offering commentary.
“I honestly didn’t think it was that bad.”
“You were being shocked.”
“Gently.”
He shot her a look.
She grinned. And then tried to look serious.
“Sorry, poor life choice there.”
He finished in silence, replaced the faceplate, wiped his hands on a cloth.
“There,” he said. “Try it now.”
She flicked the switch.
Light. No zap.
“Oh,” she said, pleased. “That is nicer. Thank you.”
She leaned in and gave him a congratulatory kiss.
He felt absurdly proud.
Later, he stood in the hallway flicking the switch on and off. Once. Twice. Three times.
From the bedroom:
“River?”
“Mm?”
“Are you testing your handiwork,” she called, “or have you made my lights flicker?”
“I have not made your lights flicker,” he said defensively. “I’m just checking.”
“Okay,” she said, amused. “You’ve checked.”
He flicked it one more time.
Then turned it off.
“Come to bed,” she added gently.
He did.
And when he slid in beside her, she curled into him without thinking — warm, safe, trusting him with things she didn’t even notice she was giving away.
River closed his eyes, feeling the weight of that settle.
Then smiled.