For Pau. For getting me writing again.

He's really good at distractions.

Some of his distractions have her gasping for breath, fingers tangled in the sheets at her sides as his mouth causes her spine to arch upward. These distractions leave her panting, a cooling tangle of limbs on the bed before he gathered her up and tugged her into the shower. Where he was also really good at distracting her from washing her hair.

Others involved the myriad of toys he has lying around the loft. He lures her into dogfights between his helicopter and the WWII fighter plane he bought on a whim. They play laser tag at two in the morning when she can't sleep, plagued by nightmares. She kicks his ass at chess. He beats her at Call of Duty.

But her favorite type of distraction was this kind right here. She had come back to her place almost too tired to kick off her heels and hang her coat up in the closet. But he was there, sliding the warm trenchcoat from her shoulders, tossing it over one of the chairs at the dining table before he pulls her into her bedroom. She rests her forehead against his chest, letting him undress her as she complains about paperwork and uncooperative witnesses and how their suspect just had to run when they went to pick him up.

He gets her into her favorite pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt worn thin from use before leading her back out to the living room. He stretches out on the couch, legs in front of him on the cushions as he pulls her down into his lap. Her head lolls on his chest as he arranges the blanket over them, lips brushing over her temple. She yawns, jaw cracking as she melts into him. His fingers trace along the back of her hand, swirling up around her wrist before going back to skim over her knuckles, twining their hands, his palm pressing her hand into his thigh.

Because while sex and playing video games against the man is fun and entertaining, most of the time, his best distractions are the ones that he acts out with one blanket and his arms around her.

"Amazing how manageable life can feel with only one blanket and the right two arms." – Tyler Knott Gregson