Nick, Again

Well, that could have gone better.

Jess sighs heavily as she places a tray of ruined brownies on the kitchen counter. Her friends were right: she should have left the Sam-and-Genevieve situation alone. And even though she's got her job—her dream job—the fact that Sam is still upset with her is tugging uncomfortably at her conscience. Why can't she just accept the fact that there are some things she can't fix, not even with homemade baked goods?

Her feet carry her toward the couch and she curls up with a sigh. One reckless kiss had left so many broken hearts in its wake. And yet, like Nick, she refuses to regret it. That kiss had started her on a year-long journey that she will always cherish. If she's completely honest, listening to Nick talk about their relationship had stirred up feelings she's been pushing away for well over a year. How had he put it? They had been in crazy love. Try as she might, she has never forgotten what being in crazy love with Nick had felt like.

She's been successfully avoiding her emotions regarding their old relationship for a long time, but she can't anymore. Meeting Raegan, seeing Sam again…feelings are bubbling to the surface with an intensity that is a little shocking. It's all coming back so fast that she isn't quite sure what to do.

Unable to sit still, Jess rises and goes back to the kitchen. She pours herself a healthy amount of pink wine and is about to head to her room to craft away her troubling thoughts when she hears footsteps approaching from the hall. She turns and watches Nick pad into the living room, still wrapped in a quilt. He's barefoot and he looks pretty sleepy, but there's more color in his cheeks than there had been a few hours ago.

"Hey Nick." She takes a fortifying gulp of wine and feels the relaxing warmth seep through her tummy a moment later.

"You're back." He tugs the quilt tighter as he joins her in the kitchen. "How did it go with Sam?"

"Not great. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It sounds like he's been through a lot and, as usual, I made things worse."

"Ah, come on, Jess." Nick is making a turtle face at her. "If he took it that hard, he's clearly a little unstable."

"Nick, when Caroline broke up with you, you collected your tears in a mason jar and plagiarized Shakespeare."

He nods with a shrug. "I'm not a great example of emotional stability, Jess. I think we both know that."

She laughs a little bit because, if she's honest, that's true of everyone living in this loft. There's a long moment of silence and then Nick shuffles toward the fridge. She can't stop thinking about what he said, how he'd known she'd wanted him to kiss her. How they'd had a fun, crazy love that changed her life. She knows she should say something to clear the air, but every time she opens her mouth her mind goes blank. She drinks more wine while she tries to decide how to break the silence.

After poking through the fridge for a moment, Nick turns to her. Here it comes; it's time to talk about what happened during the Feelings Farm. Jess braces herself for it, wishing she had refilled her glass of wine first, and then Nick opens his mouth and says:

"Jess, do you think you could make that soup now? I really think it would help me feel better."

Well, she had promised. She might be able to gather her thoughts while she cooks. She agrees and begins pulling out pots and a cutting board. It's better not to give Nick a choice about soup: he'll either take forever to decide or else want something a little too complicated for Jess' somewhat limited experience in the kitchen. Besides, who doesn't like chicken noodle? There's nothing better when it comes to food for sick people, and while there's some color in Nick's cheeks, the tip of his nose is cherry red and he still looks a bit dazed.

"Crazy day, huh?" she asks.

"Yeah. I watched those puppets for so long that I actually started to get creeped out. Winston wouldn't let me shut it off. I had to wait until he fell asleep." Nick's face becomes thoughtful. "Maybe it really is North Korean propaganda."

Jess doubts it.

"There are brownies on the counter," she tells him instead, saving herself from having to reply. He immediately perks up and heads for the kitchen counter, but stops short at the sight of the mangled dessert.

"Who would do this?" he asks. He sounds scandalized, and perhaps he is: Nick Miller takes brownies pretty seriously.

"Oh, uh…Sam wasn't in a very forgiving mood." Jess waves it off. "They're all yours, Miller."

He grabs a fork and digs in, ignoring her when she warns him not to spoil his appetite for soup. They have a small, short argument about how many calories his fever likely burned off (Jess doesn't think it's very many but Nick whole-heartedly believes that he's lost four pounds in one afternoon) while she cooks the chicken and boils the noodles. They argue again about whether or not the soup needs vegetables (Nick says no, Jess insists), and she adds a healthy portion of carrots, onions and celery into the simmering broth. When he's not looking, she also adds a bit of parsley.

Jess stirs the pot. Silence has lapsed between them while they wait for the soup to finish cooking, but again she can't just leave well-enough be.

"Did you mean what you—what you said to Sam?"

Nick had been flicking through one of Winston's cat catalogues, now he freezes. There's an intense look on his face as he considers how to answer. Jess holds her breath.

"Yeah, Jess. I meant it. Look, I didn't regret it then and I don't regret it now." He looks up at her. "What we had was—amazing. Like bad romantic movies, sappy TV amazing. I'm glad I didn't chicken out because I would have missed out on that. So yeah, it sucks that we hurt him and yeah, it's mostly my fault, but I'll never be sorry."

Jess' mouth is slightly open, and she forces herself to stop staring at him. "I…I don't regret it either. Of course I don't. We just...never talked about it."

Nick remains very still. He doesn't respond, but Jess can't blame him. She wouldn't know how to respond either.

She stirs the soup. The silence lingers. And lingers. All she can hear is the broth bubbling, and she forces herself not to look anywhere but down at the pot. Nick stares at the table top in front of him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks after a while.

"No." Jess stirs, stirs, stirs.

"Okay then." He starts to move toward the couch in the living room. She drops her spoon and chases after him.

"Wait, Nick—"

He turns just as she catches up with him. She flings her arms around him and buries her face in his chest. He can't get his arms around her, or push her away, because the quilt is still wrapped tight around his upper body. He just stands there, blinking in surprise, as she presses up against him.

"Jess?"

"Just…give me a minute." Her face is muffled by the blanket. He squirms until he gets an arm free, hesitates, and then snakes it around her waist.

"Thank you," she says, finally pulling back a little. "I mean, for everything. For what you said to Sam, and for…for…everything we had together."

He nods, turning his face away slightly. His cheeks are pink and there's a watery gleam in his eyes that breaks her heart. He clears his throat with effort and steps back from her. "Don't mention it, Jess."

She knows she should leave it there. This is exactly the same mistake she made by interfering with Sam and Genevieve in the first place, and again by going back to Sam's with brownies. If she just keeps it together, if she can just move forward from this moment without trying to force anyone back into uncomfortable corners, everything will be fine. She knows that.

So she really isn't sure who's more surprised when she reaches up, cups his face in both hands, and pulls him down for a kiss.

It's probably her. Stars are exploding behind her closed eyelids and God his lips are warm and soft and yes she remembers the way this feels all too clearly.

And yet when she pulls back and looks up at him, his eyes are wide with shock and his hand comes up to brush against his lips and an odd, stunned expression is plastered on his face…so maybe it's him.

This time the silence between them is explosive. They're both breathing hard. They're both staring. Any second now, Jess is sure that something is either going to catch fire or someone is going to start yelling or—

"Was that real?" Nick asks her. His voice is so rough and hoarse that she shivers.

"Yes."

"Are you going to regret that in the morning?"

"I have…I have no idea. No. Probably not." Possibly yes, but probably not. She leaves that part out and says with conviction, "No."

The quilt hits the floor as Nick reaches out for her. His fingers tangle in her hair, he catches her arm with his other hand and yanks her against his chest. He is kissing her and suddenly up is down and the stars are realigning and she's pretty sure the world could end and she wouldn't notice because hot damn, he is a phenomenal kisser. Really, really phenomenal.

"Take off your clothes," he growls in her ear. He's already let her go to pull off his own shirt.

"What?" All she wants is for him to keep kissing her.

"Take off your damn dress, Jessica," he snaps. This time she hears him and starts wiggling out of her dress while kicking her shoes off at the same time. The second she's standing before him in only her panties and bra, he groans out loud.

"Christ, you're beautiful." One calloused fingertip runs up her navel, then traces along the cup of her bra. Her nipples immediately tighten and there is not enough air in the room anymore. He lets his gaze roam over her body without embarrassment, and Jess wonders if he's dreamt about this as often as she has. Because she has dreamt of it, more often and with more detail than is probably healthy considering they haven't been intimate in years.

She blushes and his eyes go molten. A moment later his pants are off and she can see his erection straining to be free of his boxers. She licks her lips and runs her own hand down his stomach toward his cock.

"This is crazy," she says, shivering when he lets out a sharp breath when her fingers wrap around his shaft.

"Totally crazy," he agrees. His voice is all grit as she starts pumping her hand up and down his length. There's a spot of moisture at the front of his boxers, and Jess nearly drops to her knees and sucks him into her mouth right then. Nick, however, has other plans. He scoops her up into his arms and carries her to her bedroom.

"You gotta tell me right now if I should stop." He lowers her onto her bed, sliding one leg up between hers. His hands move to shove the cups of her bra out of his way.

They probably should stop.

Instead, she shoves his boxers down and then grasps his cock and rubs it against her slit.

"Jesus—fuck, that feels good." He nips at her breast and then sucks one of her nipples into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it and then tugging it between his teeth. She arches hard up into him, keening wordlessly as he teases her. Sex between them had always been so goddamn erotic—how had she let herself forget? Perhaps it is impossible to recapture how good it was in memory. No mere recollection could compare to the way she feels when his finger slides into her, pumping slowly while his thumb circles her clit.

"Gotta have you, Jess," he murmurs, trailing his mouth up to her neck. He sucks, sending pleasurable ripples down her spine and probably leaving a mark. Her nails dig into his back and she tries to flip them over.

"Do it, Nick. Please—"

He pins her down, trapping both of her wrists in one hand and holding them above her head. "Please what?"

Her hips arch off the bed as he plunges the fingers of his other hand into her, hard and deep the way he knows will drive her crazy.

"Please!" Her voice breaks. "Please fuck me!"

"Don't move your hands. If you move your hands, Jess, I'm going to stop."

She whines and squirms under him, but when he lets go of her wrists, she doesn't move. He trails a slow, hot path down her body with his mouth. He pauses at each breast, traces his tongue over her navel in a way that makes her gasp and whimper. Then lower…

He drags her panties down and then pins her again, this time grasping her thighs to keep her legs spread wide for him.

"God, I've dreamed about getting you like this again, spreading you open for my tongue…" He kisses the inside of her thigh and she shudders, trying to push her hips up closer to him. He teases her clit gently with his fingers…and then licks into her, sliding his tongue in deep.

"Ohmigod!" Jess grips her pillow hard, trying desperately not to reach down and tangle her fingers in his hair. He shoots her a perfectly wicked grin and then licks her again. Soon Jess is begging for him as he fucks her with his tongue and fingers. He sucks hard at her clit and she explodes, crying out his name as waves of bliss crash over her.

When she can finally open her eyes, she's still shaking from her orgasm. Nick pulls her into his lap and kisses her, and she moans as she reaches down between them to grasp his cock again.

"No more waiting," she whispers, and she slides down onto his cock.

"Oh God, you feel so fucking good," he groans. She rides him, slowly at first but then faster as he starts thrusting up into her faster. She digs her nails into his shoulders and he teases her clit. She feels her second orgasm building up again, spiraling out of control already.

He rolls them over, nipping at her earlobe, and slows his thrusts. He's rocking against her in long, lingering strokes that are keeping her right on the edge. She's sobbing his name because holy crap, this is even better than she remembers, and when she comes again everything goes sweet and hot and white all at once.

He thrusts hard up into her, grinding against her as he comes with her. He's chanting her name as he collapses against her, rolling quickly onto his side to keep from crushing her.

"Oh God." Jess can't catch her breath. "Oh my God."

"Yeah." Nick gives a stunned, satisfied laugh. "Yeah."

She should probably ask him what this means, or what they should do next, or if this was just a crazy one-time thing that got out of hand…but she doesn't. For once, she just relaxes into the afterglow, curling against his side and relishing in his warmth. They stay curled up in each other for a long time. She's tucked under his chin and he's running his hand up and down her back. Both of them doze in and out. It's easy to forget the years that have passed.

Until suddenly, Jess sits bolt upright.

"Oh crap!" she says, remembering.

"What? What is it?" Nick asks, his eyes wide and searching for the source of her sudden panic. She turns to look at them just as they hear Schmidt's voice in the living room.

"NICK! I THOUGHT WE REINSTATED THE APARTMENT 4D NO NAIL OATH!" he bellows, and Jess covers her face in her hands. "AND JESS, WHY IS THERE CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP BOILING OVER ON THE STOVE?!"

"We left our clothes in the living room," she says.

"Well…guess there's no point in trying to sneak back to my room later," Nick replies, and he tugs her back down and wraps her comforter around her. "Let's ignore him."

For a moment, Jess thinks they'd better just go out and face it all—and then she cuddles against Nick again. They can deal with all of that tomorrow after they've had some sleep and Schmidt has had time to cool down.

"I really should clean up the soup," she murmurs, already feeling drowsy.

"Nah." Nick's chuckle is sleepy. "It'll give him something to do until he stops being angry at us."

"Good point," she agrees. She falls asleep safe in the knowledge that tomorrow she's going to wake up in Nick's arms again. Maybe this time neither of them will let go.