I love Take Charge!Nick, really, I do. But my heart is bleeding for the guy, trying so hard. Especially after Jake confirmed that he's had feelings for her since the pilot. That's two years. Two. Years. And I feel Jess, has been putting it all on him to say how he feels – without meeting him half way. (Yes, I know, she has her reasons. But still.) Thus, this fic...AKA: The One Where Jess Makes The First Move.
'I believe in waiting for magic; every time. It's scary and amazing – and if you do it right, it's the closest you can be with another person.'
I stared up at sun; thought of all the people, places and things I've loved, I woke up just to see,
of all the faces you are the one next to me.
She's not that blind or stupid –– she knows exactly what's happening.
She notices the way his brow furrows unconsciously at every mention of her prom date or Teddy as the evening progresses, the less than subtle bitterness behind every sarcastic jab he makes – while trying to act seemingly not affected.
He's failing miserably.
It's hilarious, and yeah, pretty amusing to witness.
But, mostly she just finds it...kind of sweet.
And as she's looking at him from across the room, his eyes fixed downwards as he mutters something about 'showoff firemen and cats in trees', her lips curve into a smile with an affectionate shake of her head.
She reaches for her phone quietly, contemplating her next move for a minute, before biting her lip and sending the quick text.
Here goes nothing.
...
He's excused himself to grab another beer, everyone else politely declining when he asks in a mumble if they want anything.
A few seconds later and she joins him, walking around the other side of the counter to face him while he's now perched up on a stool.
"Jessica," he nods, holding up his beer towards her in greeting. "Don't worry. I wasn't gonna gargle it."
She huffs out a breathy laugh. "Hey." On a slow, tentative breath, she continues, "So, look, I, um–"
"Shouldn't you be getting ready for your date?"
"Right," she holds up a finger and takes a step closer towards the edge of the counter between them. "About that–"
He takes a swig of his beer, motioning with his free hand for her to continue.
It kinda feels like a dare.
"You know, he just asked for drinks to catch up, Nick," she finally says. "Not a date."
"Mmmhm," he hums, more than a little sarcastically, with a curt nod. "Like the other night with us wasn't a date?"
"Hey, that is not fair," she starts, and now she's angry, watching as he just shakes his head and rises from the stool, starting to back away.
"You know what? I don't wanna do this with you right now, Jess."
She groans; typical.
"You never asked me, Miller!" she all but shouts.
"You answered the door in a God damn towel," he retorts, as if that explains everything, flinging his hands up in the air.
"Uh, everything alright, you guys?" they suddenly hear Cece call from the living room.
"We're fine," they yell back in unison.
She feels his hand on her forearm, and before she knows what's happening, he's leading her towards the hallway, out of earshot of everyone else.
She's backed up against the wall, and his eyes are still flaring with anger as they're peering into her.
"Alright. Ya wanna talk fair, Jessica?"
She takes the bait; she always does.
"Yeah, Nick. Let's."
"Need I remind of your reaction to that whole thing with Shane?"
"Shane...Shane..." She trails off, tilting her head in mock confusion. "Oh! You mean your boss that you slept with? Yeah, I seem to vaguely remember that 'whole thing.'"
"Yeah, see," he gestures over her face, as she rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "That reaction. Right there."
"I–"
"And who was the one, barely a week before that, parading around the bar–– my bar, the bar I work at, looking for a guy? Any guy. Like one of those girls on the show with roses and Ryan Seacrest."
She buries her face in her hands. "I'm pretty sure those are two different shows, Nick."
"Ah, but then you found Jax," he continues, unfazed. "A fact that you felt the need to throw in my face, Jessica – because 'he's a guy that likes to talk about his feelings,'" he ends the sentence in a high pitched imitation of her voice, similar to the way she apparently sounds when she asks him to restart the internet.
"Ugh," she groans. "If you would just –"
"No," he shakes his head, cutting her off. "Because Shane was just a distraction. You know that. And it was stupid. Really stupid. But that's when I thought – Jess, that was before –"
Before they almost had sex on a table.
Before they had their mess of a date.
And she understands that Shane was a distraction – like Jax had been.
Like Teddy would be now.
He runs his hand over the back of his neck. "Look, I get it. Seventh grade dance rules still in effect. Fine. This," he gestures between them, "isn't going to be a thing." He takes a breath. "But just –spare me the details of whatever it is that's happening tonight with this guy. Okay? Just...Please."
She smiles brightly, because this is the closet he's ever been to actually voicing out loud how he's feeling, and it reaffirms her decision all over again.
"Nothing," she whispers.
He blinks twice "What are you talking about?"
"Nothing is happening," she repeats. "I cancelled. That's what I was trying to tell you. Before all the yelling."
The realization sweeps over his face."You – you cancelled? Why," he clears his throat, "why would ya do that?"
She exhales; of course he needs to hear the words. (She understands that sentiment as well.)
"Because he's part of my past," she answers. "An important part, but still – I don't know, I guess I'm not looking to go back."
He takes an impossibly long beat before stepping closer towards her.
"What are you looking for, Jess?" he breathes.
'You, you you,' her head is screaming, and if at all possible the way he's staring at her just intensifies, leaving her throat dry and the blood pounding inside her ears.
Then suddenly he's even closer then before, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath as he trails a hand down her arm, ending at her hand to trace his thumb over her knuckles.
Fighting to find her breath, she opens her mouth slowly to say something – anything – when a sharp voice from the living room brings the moment crashing down.
"Hey, what the hell are you two doing? Come back in here ––You gotta hear the rest of this story!"
Dammit, Schmidt.
Nick sighs. "Be right there, buddy," he shouts back, his eyes not leaving hers.
He gives her a half smile, and steps back, motioning for her to walk in front of him. Clearing her throat, she nods, stepping away from the wall to walk back towards the others.
And when he gently places a hand on the small of her back to lead her forwards, she leans back just a little.
...
She tells them Teddy got called into work; if anyone notices Nick and her stealing glances at each other for the remainder of the night, no one says a word.
...
She's done changing for bed when she walks towards the bathroom, hears the running of the water before she catches sight of him, brushing his teeth, t-shirt clad with a pair of dark sweatpants on.
"Hey there," she says, making him blink up to meet her gaze.
He attempts to smile, but can't quite succeed because of the toothpaste in his mouth, and he holds up a hand in her direction before bending his head to spit in the sink.
"Hi," he finally manages, and she lets out a small laugh. "Everyone go to bed?"
She nods, taking a few steps further away from the doorway.
"Okay, well in that case – I, uh, I feel like I need to tell ya something now," he starts.
"Oh?" She gives him a small grin. "And what might that be?"
He looks down at his feet for a second. "Caroline," he whispers, hoarsely. "Caroline was my first time, Jess. I – sorta lied earlier."
Her lips quirk. "Sorta?"
"Yeah, look –" He meets her gaze, with a slight slump of his shoulders. "I just wasn't in the mood to get ragged on by those two clowns, you know?" he presses on, gesturing past her out into the hallway. "It 's ridiculous, I know, but...there it is."
"Honestly, Nick," she laces a strand of hair behind her ears, "I kinda figured."
He looks at her disbelieving with a tilt of his head, though his eyes are shinning. "Yeah, and how could you have kinda figured that?"
"You may have everyone else fooled," she answers, in her best stern voice,"but not me, Miller." She punctuates this statement with a poke to his chest – and when on Earth had she gotten so close to where he was standing?
He laughs at that, wrapping his hand around her point finger to drop their hands down.
"That so?" he asks.
"Mhmm."
"Got me all figured out?"
"You don't need to be sweating bullets down your back for me to have a fairly good idea about when you're lying," she informs him.
Her breath hitches at the look he's giving her and she darts her eyes down for a second before looking back up at him.
"I know you."
"Yeah," he whispers, his voice low. "I guess you do."
"But I'm glad you told me," she says, softly.
He just nods, gracing her with an almost shy smile.
"And while we're, you know, confessing things," she pauses, biting her lip. "I think – I know – I was wrong. What I said after. That whole bit about magic."
He sighed. "No, Jess – that's how it should be. You weren't wrong."
"No," she shakes her head, coughs out a short laugh. "Not what I meant."
Hie squints at her. "What then?"
"I mean, it's not – it's not the timing or where or even how it happens that matters. It's the right person," she clarifies, with a small shrug of her shoulders. "That's what makes it magic."
His eyes seem to grow about three shades darker, as she hears an almost inaudible gulp in the back of his throat before he licks his lips.
"What are you saying, Jessica?" he questions in a murmur, ragged and deep.
The sound elicits shivers down her spine, and she's overcome by the sheer amount of want and need for him that's she's been feeling since this whole thing started, since that first night in the hallway; steadily bumbling in her stomach while she fights the urge to let it explode.
She doesn't want to fight it anymore.
(Doesn't think she could anyway.)
Leaning up on her tiptoes slowly to breathe into his ear, she answers his question with another question.
"Do you wanna have sex with me, yes or no?"
He tilts his head back at her, and she has a second to register the warm smile he's wearing before his hands are suddenly wrapped around her waist, and his lips are crashing onto hers.
He tastes minty and sweet from the toothpaste, and God, she's missed kissing him, the way he pulls her body so tightly into his, because close is never quite close enough and like there is no way he could let her go.
She gasps as he slips a hand underneath her pajama shirt, tugging her with him as he takes a few steps forwards, their lips parting for only a second before her back finds the edge of the door frame – and his mouth finds her neck.
"So, I guess that's a yes then," she rasps, teasing, and he shoots her a sinful smirk, as she wraps her hands around his back.
He captures her in a kiss again, his tongue demanding entrance into her mouth, to which she wholeheartedly complies, then lifts her in one fluid motion so she can lace her legs around him.
He carries her out of the bathroom, leading her to his open door, and breaks his lips from hers, and she can't help the tiny whimper that escapes.
Leaning his forehead against hers, he takes a second to catch his breath. "Are we really doing this, Jess?" he asks, barely above a whisper.
She takes a breath of her own, smiling and appreciating the moment –– every emotion she sees flash across his face, a look she knows she must be mirroring as well.
And then she kisses him, slowly, softly, her hands cupping the side of his face; aiming to kiss away any lingering doubts.
They may not have said everything they needed to say (and still need to), or worked out where they'll go from here – but she does know him.
All of him.
Which is why she knows that this, this right now with them, this is right.
This is magic.
"Yeah," she whispers. "We're doing this."
(She knows exactly what's happening; it's been happening all along.)
If I lose myself tonight, it'll be by your side.
If I lose myself tonight, it'll be you and I. ❤