Pedro Pascal Imagines

Wine Drunk -Javier Peña

It's been nearly two hours since coming home from work. Javier and Murphy sending you home before themselves.

"I'll finish your reports señorita. And I will put your name on all of them. Go home, rest those little fingers of yours you've been typing all day." And Javier sent you home with a wink.

After a long shower, comfy clothes, and a seat on the couch, the smell of whatever Javier was cooking was wafting through the vents and into your apartment. And it smelled fantastic. One of the perks of having Javier next door, and Murphy upstairs, was the free meals.

You gathered two wine glasses and your best bottle of red, as a thank you to Javier for taking the rest of your work load so you could come home early. Stepping out of your apartment you went one door over, knocking gently on the door.

Javier opened the door, adorned in the exact same outfit as you. The groups DEA grey shirts, and a pair of sweatpants. Although, yours were black and his grey to match the shirt. You waved the glasses, letting them clink together, as a question for permission to come in. Javier stepped to the side, opening the door more so you could enter.

"What's this?" He asked as he closed the door behind you.

"A thank you for doing the rest of my work today, and an excuse to eat whatever the hell you're cooking cause it's smells delicious." You and Javier chuckled.

"You're lucky I cook too many portions or you'd just be starving every day, wouldn't you el cariño?" He looked at you, the signature lift of his eyebrow.

"No, thank god Connie also feeds me." You laughed loudly, Javier rolling his eyes with a quiet chuckle.

"Sit down el cariño, open the bottle I'm almost done." With a nod you followed Javier's instructions, going over to his bar cart to get the cork puller. He looked over with a smile when he heard the cork popping from the bottle, watching as you poured into the two glasses.

There you sat, watching Javier over the stove in the kitchen. Working with multiple frying pans, opening and closing the oven door, and going over to his array of cutting boards to retrieve ingredients.

This was the first time ever watching him cook, most times you'd come over right as he was adding finishing touches and dishing up, but this time you get to see him in action. A tea towel tossed over his shoulder to wipe his hands on, sweat on his brow from the steam over the oven. God he looked glorious. And the best part; he would never let you leave without leftovers.

A half glass turned into two full glasses, a good buzz and a full stomach from Javier's meal. The worst part about getting wine drunk was how warm it made you. Warm and fuzzy inside, and itching for a cuddle from anyone near by. I guess that's how you managed to get yourself into Javier's lap. Your back pressed to his chest. One of his hands sat on your leg, massaging it gently, while the other left pulsing grips on your hip. He moved his hand every so often, reaching up to move the cigarette from his lips after a particularly long drag.

You reached forward, tipping back the rest of your wine and setting the glass on the table. You turned your head, holding your hand up and signaling for Javier to pass the cigarette into your fingers. When he did you took a hit, relaxing into his chest. And the casual conversation turned to hot, breathy whispers into your ear about you at work today.

A compliment from Javier about the pants you were wearing, how good they looked on you, and how the blouse you wore was a perfect color match to your sneakers.

"So beautiful señorita." His whispers turned into hot messy kisses down the side of your neck, focusing under your ear.

"Javier."