Hands - Chuck Grant x Reader
In honour of Chuck Grant appreciation month… (okay that’s a lie, I didn’t need an excuse to write about Chuck), here is just a really fluffy piece with Chuck comforting the reader. And yes, I used the words ‘hands’ about a hundred times. I apologise, apparently I have issues. No disrespect intended to the original men. Based on the actor’s portrayals. Tagging: @ruinsrebuilt and @shiftyspirits
Sturdy. Steadying. Comforting. All words I had used to describe Chuck’s hands over the past couple of years.
He was a physical person. Preferring to express himself through his hands rather than his words. I never felt as loved as I did, as when he put his hands on me.
Interlocking his fingers with mine, his hand brushing over my hair, fingers gracefully tracing the line of my jaw. All sweet ways of expressing his affection. I could see the love in his eyes, hear the words fall from his lips, but it was his hands that spelt it out for me. Sometimes literally, his fingers tracing the letters out onto my skin and leaving me smiling.
Not to mention his hands comforted me in my more darker moments.
Physically, there was nothing out of the ordinary about his hands. They were large and slightly tanned, a light dusting of hair on the back of his hand. His fingertips were rough to the touch, but his palm was smooth and soft. He always wore a watch with a grey strap on one hand and his father’s wedding ring on the other, which he would constantly twist around his finger when he was thinking deeply about something.
His touch though, his touch was something else altogether. He was capable of eliciting a response from me like no other. He was able to pass on his emotions to me with the barest touch of his hands.
His hands comforted me like no other. When I was curled up tightly on the bed, the tears falling from my eyes. When I was at my lowest and my anxiety at it’s highest. When I was unwilling to let anyone, not even the world touch me, his hands would sweep slowly over my back, encouraging me to unfurl myself, to let him in.
I needed that kind of comfort tonight.
My own hands were shaky and tucked up against my chest as I curled up beneath the bed covers, the silence in the apartment feeling almost haunting to my ears. I could feel a familiar pounding in my chest as I sobbed quietly, the pillow under my cheek rapidly becoming damp. And though I knew better, I couldn’t help but feel alone in the world.
The soft click as Chuck let himself into the apartment, reminded me of the truth for a moment. He was whistling to himself and I knew that he must of had a good night out with Tab, Lieb and the others. I made an attempt to stifle my sobs, quietly moving to the adjoining bathroom so I could clean myself up without him realising. Chuck had just had a nice night out, I didn’t want to ruin it for him just because of my own insecurities and the fact it had been a stressful day.
Despite having the tap running, I could still hear him walking around in the bedroom, sounding more heavy footed than usual.
“Sweetheart?” he called out, the cheer very much present in his voice. I could practically see him in my mind’s eye. The top of his shirt would be in disarray from where he would have tugged the top couple of buttons undone and that familiar cigarette would be tucked behind his ear.
“I’ll be out in a minute!” I replied, drying my face with a towel and waiting for the redness around my eyes to diminish.
I could hear him begin to get ready for bed, the mattress bouncing only moments later. Taking another look in the mirror, I judged myself as presentable as I was ever going to be at 1 am in the morning and left the bathroom.
The bedroom had fallen silent a couple of minutes ago and I half expected to find Chuck already passed out on top of the bed. Instead he was sat up, a frown present on his face as he held my pillow in his lap.
“Your pillow is wet” he told me, his eyes already narrowing in on my face. I could feel the anxiety begin to rise once more as I was called out and Chuck was quick to get to his feet and reach out to me.
Familiar hands rested on the curve of my back as he held me and I struggled to keep my emotions under control. His lips pressed softly against my hairline, lingering in their kiss as his hands began to slide up and down my back.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he questioned, his breath stirring against my cheek as he kept me close.
“You were out having a good time. I didn’t want to disturb that. Besides, it’s just me being stupid. You don’t have to come running every time I have a bad day” I replied. I hadn’t fully cried myself out yet and I could still feel that pressure bearing down on me, just pushing to be released.
Above me I could hear Chuck sigh. I knew he didn’t like it when I tried to wave things off or keep him in the dark.
“It’s not stupid to me, if it upsets you” he replied. I knew he wanted to say more, but Chuck didn’t like to rely on just his words. Instead his hands slid slightly under the hem of my shirt, massaging tiny circles into my skin.
The pressure inside of me was beginning to build and I could feel my eyes becoming wet once more. I only realised I was shaking, when Chuck’s hands stilled and he pulled back to check on me.
His hands reached out once more for me, this time his palms brushing against mine as he wrapped my hands in his. He began to gently coax me towards the bed and I followed wanting to be near his warmth.
Chuck climbed backwards onto the bed, never letting go of my hands, yet still throwing his arms wide, inviting me to curl up against his chest.
One arm wrapped around my back as I huddled up close to him, my head laying on the centre of his chest. His other hand rested on my cheek, his thumb gently brushing over wet skin as he encouraged me to look up at him. His blue eyes appeared almost stormy in this light, though the concern and care in them was no less apparent.
“Let it all out” he whispered. That was the great thing about Chuck. He realised that sometimes, I just needed to cry out the negative emotions. Knowing that he was there and knowing that he cared, tipped me over the edge and I began to sob again, the tears falling at a rapid pace.
I turned to hide my face in his chest, his hand slipping from my cheek as I did so and he ended up wrapping both of his arms around me instead, pulling me even tighter to him.
He said very little as I cried. That wasn’t his style. I knew he preferred to express his care and concern in other ways. That wasn’t to say he didn’t say anything at all, it was just that his focus was in the way his hands swept up my back, stroked my hair and caressed the back of my neck.
His touch was gentle yet firm. He was capable of being so strong, but his caresses were soft, loving.
“I love you” he told me, the words slightly muffled as he rested his head atop mine. Chuck may have believed that actions spoke louder than words, but that was one phrase he fully believed in saying. I heard it on a frequent basis, but it never seemed less genuine for it.
“And I’m right here for you” he added mere moments later. That was another common phrase I heard whenever I was upset or stressed out. Almost as if he wanted to remind me that I was never on my own. It was this phrase that resonated with me the most, especially as I had a tendency to isolate myself when I was upset.
My eyes were starting to ache now, but I could feel myself winding down, the tears less frequent. I felt drained by the past couple of minutes and knew I had tired myself out.
I tried to concentrate more on the small sensations that surrounded me, hoping to calm myself further. I could smell Chuck’s cologne. It was weak, the scent having worn off after a night out, but it lingered, mixing in with his natural smell. His body was warm under mine and I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. I found it grounding for some reason, especially when combined with the heartbeat I could hear as my head laid on his chest.
The next sensation that I focused on was the movement of his hands on my back. There was a rhythm to the motions, almost repetitive, his hands sweeping up my back, pausing in between my shoulders to rub, the heat generated by his hands helping to soothe the muscles there. Then his hands would slide further up to the back of my neck, his thumb caressing over skin, his fingers occasionally diving into my hairline. After several moments of this, his hands would make one single, long sweep down my body, until they came to my lower back once again pausing to rub, before he began to repeat his previous movements.
His hands never left me. Not even when he realised that I had calmed, did he stop their movements, though his pattern became less ordered, less precise.
Chuck’s kisses became more frequent though. Just soft, tender kisses that were scattered on top of my head, occasionally drifting to my hairline. His lips only managed to touch skin when I finally lifted my head to look up at him and he placed a kiss to my cheek, followed by another to the tip of my nose. A small grin formed on his lips as I wrinkled my nose at the ticklish sensation.
“You want to talk about it?” he questioned softly, his fingers grazing up my neck and over my jawline.
“Just stressed out at the moment. I just feel like it’s all getting on top of me and I can’t see how it’s all going to work out. Like I’m just stuck here, in this impossible situation” I explained quietly, trying not to wince at how croaky I sounded.
“It won’t last forever. I know that sounds like a damn cliché, but it’s true. All this crap, it will pass and I will be right by your side until it does” said Chuck. He hugged me tighter, pressing his cheek to mine as he rubbed my shoulder.
I nodded in response, choosing to remain silent for the moment, instead rubbing my hands over the centre of his chest, as if that would remove the damp spot my crying had left behind.
“Next time you need me, please just tell me? No matter where I am or what I’m doing? I’m serious. I don’t like thinking about you dealing with all this on your own. It’s what I’m here for, you know? The good and the bad. Fuck knows, you’ve put up enough with me and my bad times” Chuck added.
I nodded as my answer to him, only to be fixed by a look from him in return. One that clearly said he knew me all too well and was therefore doubtful about my agreement. Those blue eyes of his were capable of some piercing looks.
“I will. I promise” I said, hoping to convince him. The words settled in between us as quiet fell, Chuck tapping his fingers against my shoulder, silently playing out some random tune. I could recognise parts of the rhythm, but was unable to put a name to it.
“Did you have a good night out?” I asked after several moments, breaking the silence.
“Yeah. It was nice to catch up. I know I get to see Floyd and Joe on a daily basis, but I don’t always get the chance to meet up with some of the others. Buck told us he’s having another kid” he answered and I didn’t need to peer up to see the smile on his face. I could hear it in his voice.
“Really? I’m glad to hear it” I replied, a smile forming on my own face. I could still remember how ecstatic Buck had been when his first had been born.
“There also may have been some singing. I think we may have drank too much” Chuck added, the cocky amusement in his voice (and it always amazed me how he managed to pull that off and make it seem like such an attractive quality at the same time), clearly indicating that there was a story or two to be told about tonight.
“Don’t you boys always drink too much?” I commented, able to feel myself cheering up at the mention of Chuck and his friends’ happiness. “I’m glad to hear that you had a good night out though. I know that you’ve been looking forward to it for weeks”.
I was still feeling drained, but could sense that my good humour was starting to return and I absent-mindedly poked Chuck in the side. He shifted suddenly under me and I nearly fell off his chest, letting out a small ‘ooomf’, but Chuck caught me before I could slip too far. He chuckled to himself, leaning in to brush the barest of kisses against my jawline.
“Well, the night isn’t over yet” he said. He had on that smirk of his, the one that usually never failed to make me feel flustered and his tone was flirtatious.
Except tonight, I really wasn’t in the mood for that, feeling emotionally drained. I was about to tell him so, but before I could, Chuck had me turned on my back, his fingers skipping over my sides as he tickled me instead of trying anything else.
“Want to hear you laugh” he half-demanded and it was hard to deny him, when the sound was already half out my mouth. Chuck looked pleased to see me laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he joined in with a low laugh of his own. I wriggled underneath him, trying to get away, only for Chuck to pin me down, his nose brushing against mine.
“Uh-uh. You’re not getting away” he told me, his grin wide as his hands brushed lightly over my sides once again. There was a determined glint in his eyes as I fell apart underneath him in one of the most wonderful ways, my laughter (and giggles) sharp and clear.
“Like to see my baby laughing” Chuck murmured, his hands now moving smoothly and teasingly over my stomach.
Yes, his hands were sturdy, steadying and comforting. But most of all they were loving and he used them to spell that message out to me.
