A/N: So it's my first time writing this pairing, though I absolutely love them and have read multiple fics on them. Hopefully, I've given justice to the couple with this first attempt. I actually had the ending all planned out… unfortunately, this meant I had no idea where to start… If the beginning is a bit rocky, I apologize! But surprisingly, this is the longest one-shot that I have ever written!
This fic was inspired by a beautiful song redone (I think redone…) by MYMP called Last Chance. If you really want to picture this fic, I'd suggest going onto YouTube or something to listen to the song (no, I don't think there's an MV of this, but there are multiple audios).
As always, reviews are always welcome, especially those that could help me with this pair!
Disclaimer: If I owned FAKE, this couple would have been canon a long time ago…
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Last Dance
This was getting ridiculous.
He leaned against his apartment door, running a hand through his curiously-colored blue hair to mimic a ruffling motion. It was an affectionate gesture that he was – though he dared not admit it aloud – beginning to miss.
It was just a kiss, just a quick brush of lips, just an impulsive action that lasted barely five seconds. And yet, that little action alone was enough to change everything… or maybe things were already changing and they both just didn't notice the warning flags blatantly waving in their faces.
Damn it, he didn't know anymore.
Indeed, in the beginning it was "just a kiss," an action, his mind rationalized, that demonstrated gratitude to Drake's assuring, constant presence, his own form of a thank-you gift to his partner and best friend.
Yes, it was just a kiss.
That is, until he caught himself staring at his partner's frustrated features as he shuffled through a load of paper work. Until he caught himself staring for a second time, but this time at his partner's behind as it made its way out of their office. Until he woke up in a sweat as his overly-vivid dreams of forest green eyes and jet black hair slowly changed to that of stormy gray eyes and tousled blonde strands, the owner of which pressed lips firmly to his before moving down his neck, traveling down his chest, and…
He shuddered against the door as the memory tingled his senses.
But the driving point was when Dee – his prince charming, his sex god – passed him in the halls of the precinct and he felt nothing but the smallest, slightest tinge of pain that even in itself was nothing. He didn't feel the urge to jump-and-glomp, no need to compliment and grab his attention, simply nothing.
Yet, when Drake turned the corner and walked into their office…
Well, let's just say that J.J. was extremely proud of his self-control.
J.J. pulled himself from the door with a sigh, taking off his coat and tossing it on the couch before walking over to his stereo to put on one of his music mixes. Satisfied with his choice of relaxing acoustics set at a low volume, he made his way to the kitchen to start preparing his dinner. As he shifted pans and plates, he sunk back to his thoughts of the previous few weeks.
Their partner dynamic completely changed after the kiss. J.J. wasn't too surprised about this; after all he had just kissed his straight-as-an-arrow partner. He shrugged off Drake's deliberate attempts to avoid his gaze – or avoid his presence at all unless necessary – and continued on as if nothing had happened. He gave it one week tops for everything to blow over.
It took almost three weeks. Three weeks of thick-as-butter tension as they tried to hammer out a case (Chief wasn't too happy that the report came extremely late), three weeks of not being able to weasel around the Chief since they couldn't get their stories straight (Chief had their asses for this one too), and probably worst of all, three weeks of Drake flinching away at the softest of brushes as J.J. walked past, or gave him his coffee, or even simply handed him papers.
And through it all, J.J. couldn't help but feel a surprisingly strong wave of sadness at the whole situation, though he didn't know quite why at the time. Some sadness over the awkwardness was understandable, but instead, J.J. was invaded by a strong sense of loneliness that rivaled the times he spent wishing Dee would finally accept his heart.
Thankfully, the fourth week was better, as well as the fifth week. The work began to flow a bit smoother every day, like a drain slowly coming unclogged. Unfortunately, it was around this time that J.J. had reached an epiphany about the startling fact: he was falling for his partner, and he was falling hard.
Now, it's been two months since the incident, and things are almost back to the way they were. No longer are there as many long, awkward silences in their conversations, they once again share their telepathic gift of being able to finish each other's sentences, and the Chief no longer yelled at them on almost a daily basis. Sure, Drake still avoided touching for the most part – including the habit of ruffling J.J.'s hair – though he no longer flinched upon contact.
J.J. still wasn't sure if this return to normalcy was entirely a good thing or a bad thing. Hell, he knew that things between them would never go back to normal. But if he were completely honest with himself, he knew that deep down, he didn't want things to go back to normal.
The smell of almost-burnt onion brought J.J. out of his thoughts. Turning the stove all the way down, he added the remaining ingredients to his meal before raising the flame once again. A sudden knock on the door pulled his attention away once again from his cooking. Wondering who this mystery visitor could possibly be, he walked to the door and opened it a crack, shocked to see a familiar, tall blonde. Fully opening the door, he voiced his surprise.
"Drake-sempai! What are you doing here?"
"Uh, well, I kinda… at home…"
"Ah, let me guess. You don't have any food at home, do you? And you don't really want to order out, right?"
Drake responded with an embarrassed smile, raising a hand to scratch his head in a nervous gesture.
"Don't worry about it! I've made enough dinner for two, as usual."
"Really, J.J., you're a lifesaver – literally," Drake answered with a laugh.
"You know I could never turn you down," J.J. responded as he turned his head, only to be met with a warm smile. If he didn't know better, he'd think that Drake had caught the true meaning of his words.
Drake helped J.J. set the table before sitting himself down. As J.J. finished cooking and began serving, he couldn't help but notice the atmosphere in his apartment suddenly brighten with the new presence. He smiled to himself knowing exactly why.
As dinner ended, J.J. knew that this was the best time they had spent together in a long while. They had comfortable conversation, laughing at the events of the office earlier that day, like the look on Ryo's face when Dee attempted to "secretly" grope him in the hall. Though Drake still looked at him worriedly at the mention of Dee, J.J. still continued laughing, reassuring him that he was alright now.
As Drake took his last bite of pasta, he couldn't help but noticing, "Hey, J.J., your sauce was a tiny bit bitter today. Anything wrong?"
J.J. flushed at the comment. He knew full well that Drake had had enough of his cooking to know when he was in the mood or whether his mind had been somewhere else.
"Ah, just thinking about this-and-that. Nothing to worry yourself over."
Drake looked at him doubtingly before giving a shrug and sitting back in his chair in relaxation.
J.J. could remember all the times that Drake had given him that look, most times when it was about Dee. And after every single one of those times, he'd ended up crying in Drake's arms, wondering what was so wrong with him that he couldn't be loved. Drake always had an answer, whispering into his ear that maybe Dee wasn't the one, there were many more out there, there must be someone for him.
Drake had always been there when J.J. needed a shoulder to cry on (quite literally). Somehow, Drake had become his support system, and through this, made his own special place in his heart. He had become more than his partner at work, taking a spot as his best friend and confidant. Maybe that was why he was so afraid to jump, to take the step towards something more. But this strange place that they were at now, this awkward form of limbo… J.J. knew that the only way to go now was forward.
"J.J., are you sure you're alright? You look a bit tired…"
Jolted out of his thoughts, J.J. quickly stood up as he replied, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Why don't we move to the couch? It's more comfortable over there."
He made his way to his living room, knowing that Drake was probably giving him the look again. He sat down as Drake followed and plopped down next to him. A sudden awkwardness fell upon them at the lack of conversation, music still playing in the background. As if adding to the awkwardness, a new song started playing, slower and sadder than the previous tunes.
J.J. shook his head, thinking that fate must be playing with him. The song that came on, he knew every word to, and it seemed that these words were giving him a sign, signaling the opportunity to do something and not wait for the man sitting beside him to act.
Rising to his feet, he put out a hand to Drake, a soft smile on his lips. Drake gave a confused look in response.
"What do you say, Drake? Dance with me? It'll be our first and last."
J.J. saw the series of emotions that flashed through his eyes: panic, doubt, confusion. Drake finally settled with a chuckle and a soft smile of his own, accepting the action for its randomness, and took J.J.'s hand as he stood up.
They started out in a relaxed waltz-form, Drake's right hand lightly resting on J.J.'s waist as his left hand held onto J.J.'s right. Drake kept his gaze over the top of J.J's head, avoiding staring straight into his face. J.J. couldn't help but feel the stiff movement as they tried to flow with the song.
"I'm not going to bite you, you know."
Surprised by his sudden comment, Drake looked into J.J.'s face, only met with the same soft smile. He kept looking as he closed in the space between their chests, distracted by the clarity of J.J.'s sky-blue eyes.
J.J. could feel Drake's eyes burning into his soul, holding a certain shine that he couldn't quite figure out. It only took him a second to realize what that emotion was, and only a second longer to realize that the very same emotion must be mirrored in his eyes as well.
The music played on, soothing vocals to the slow tune of the guitar.
Drake loosened his hold on J.J.'s hand, startling him out of their eye contact. J.J. watched as he moved his hand to his shoulder, and then used his free hand to rest on his waist. J.J. didn't question the unexpected intimate gesture, instead moving naturally to drape his arms across his shoulders more comfortably and to lean his head on his shoulder. Their bodies fit perfectly against each other, like two puzzle pieces finally discovered to fit together.
He put all his emotion into that slow, steady rhythm, swaying to the beat and trying to get those strong arms to feel it, those beautiful gray eyes to see it, and that confused, fearful heart to beat at the same pace as his.
Even when the music stopped, only their slow swaying stopped with it, their bodies remaining in the close position that they had moved into.
It could have been a few seconds, a few minutes, a few eternities, before J.J. became conscious of the time that they had been standing and the fact that this moment could possibly scare Drake away from him again. Not wanting those three weeks of loneliness to repeat, he made to disentangle himself from the warm body that he really didn't want to move away from. But two sturdy arms kept him in place.
J.J. looked up into Drake's face, searching for an answer to his unvoiced question. He could feel his heart racing in his chest from the intense amount of hope. It wasn't until much later that he realized that Drake's pulse had been racing along with his.
Drake bent his head to J.J.'s ear, warm breath tickling the side of his neck.
"Who said this had to be our last dance?"
A wide grin spread across J.J.'s face as he buried himself in Drake's arms.