A/N: This takes place right after the end of the last episode. Hope you enjoy!
The Charm of Flannel Pajamas
He went to her room first. It had been all arguments before, their mouths fusing to form the end punctuation for each shouted refrain, but then they went to their perspective rooms and the loft fell silent. She sat on her bed with her mouth slightly agape, replaying every moment over in her mind while he paced back and forth.
He couldn't believe she wanted him. She couldn't believe she wanted him, either. It was wrong and twisted, and violated every unspoken and spoken rule in the loft, but it was out there. She had said the words – shouted them, really – and she couldn't take it back. She wanted him; and he'd be damned if he didn't want her back.
He waited maybe ten or fifteen minutes before walking across the hall to her room. He stood there for a moment, deciding whether or not to knock when she opened the door, seemingly with the same cross-hall-walk on her mind. Her blue eyes went wide and his eyes travelled down her now flannel pajama clad body. Her outfit before had done more to highlight her long legs and tiny waist, but there would always be a part of him that liked her in flannels best.
His hands found her waist and she stepped back without a word. His right hand left her waist for just a moment to close the door, but it returned immediately after. The flannel was soft under his hands and he slid his fingers along her waist until he travelled its entire expanse and her body was flush against his. He had held her many times before – they were a hugging loft – but this was different. The air was charged between them and when she tilted her face up toward his, he thought to himself that he never wanted things to go back to how they were before.
Their lips met and the same heat he had felt out in the foyer ignited again. She kissed him hard, fingers threaded in his hair. They staggered back toward her bed, the kiss breaking only when her knees hit the edge of the mattress. His eyes bore into hers and before the blood rush took over his senses he murmured, "Are you sure you want this?"
She smiled slightly and it made him want to kiss her silly, but he waited for her response.
"Yeah," she said, voice husky as she nodded. "Yeah, I want this."
"Alright then."
They made quick work of their clothes then, him unbuttoning his pants at a lightening speed pace and pulling off his shirt. He watched her unbutton her pajama top, for some reason liking the fact that she didn't just pull it off. It seemed to mark the fact that this wasn't some heady moment. She was choosing this – choosing him.
He took a moment to appreciate the beguiling creature in front of him and murmured, "You are unbelievably beautiful."
She blushed at his words, and returned in her Judy Garland voice, "You're not too shabby yourself, partner."
Laughing, he stepped forward and connected his mouth with hers again. She sat down on the bed and scooted back, suddenly appearing timid as he followed her. His hand traced her skin from the curve of her hip up to her waist, and he dropped a kiss to the hollow of her neck.
"Nick?" she murmured, hands lightly touching his back.
"Yeah, Jess?"
She didn't say anything and he looked up, his eyes meeting hers. He saw reflected in her gaze the exact feelings welling up inside him. He kissed her softly and murmured, "Me too."
He had never been in Jess' bed before, and he decided that it was far superior to his own. Maybe it was because her sheets were softer – probably a function of them actually being washed. He would need to start doing that soon. Washing his sheets. But, really, the best feature of her bed was that she was in it. She was curled against his side, dark hair splayed across his chest.
"So," she began, tilting her face up toward his. "That just happened."
He laughed, his chest rumbling beneath her face. "Yeah, it did."
"And it was pretty great, right?"
"Oh yeah," he said. "Really great."
She was silent and he said, "You're thinking about what it means."
"What? No, I'm-"
"Jess, I know you," he interrupted.
"Okay, fine," she relented. She sat up, tucking the sheet up under her arms. "I'm thinking about what it means."
"And?"
She gave him an incredulous look and said, "I don't know. Do you know?"
"No."
"Oh God," she said, beginning to panic as reality set in. "What are we going to tell Winston and Schmidt? Are we even going to tell them? If we don't they'll probably find out and then they'll feel betrayed and-"
He cut her off with a kiss, his hands cupping her face. She kissed him back, desire still plainly resonating between them. He pulled away and then placed one last feather light kiss on her lips, just like that first time back when there was a Sam and a whole host of other complications.
"Winston and Schmidt will just have to deal with it," he told her. "God knows I've dealt with my fair share of weird stuff with them."
"So, we tell them."
"Yeah, we tell them."
She shifted next to him, pulling the sheet up higher on her chest, and murmured, "So, there is something to tell, then?"
"Uh, yeah, I'd say so. Wouldn't you?"
She turned her gaze down to her hands clasped on her lap and asked, "What will we tell them?"
He knew what she was doing. She was trying to gauge just how seriously he took what happened. Unfortunately, he had the same unanswered question.
"What do you think we should tell them?"
"Seriously?" she said irritably, turning toward him.
"Well, I don't know!" he shot back. "I don't know what we're doing here!"
"You don't know?" she returned. "I wasn't the one getting my ass slapped from my sexy manager an hour ago!"
His irritation flagged and he asked, "Is that what this is about?"
"No," she said, but her tone belied a different answer.
"Jess, if I would have known there was even the slightest chance you were interested, I wouldn't have done any of that stuff with her. I thought this…" he gestured between them, "…was not happening. Like, ever."
"So, you won't see her anymore?" she asked softly.
"No. God Jess, you're…" he trailed off, rubbing his jaw before he went and made a total schmuck of himself.
"I'm what?"
"Nevermind."
"No, what am I?" she pressed. "Nick-"
"You're all I want," he admitted. "You're all I've wanted for a while."
She stared at him, heart slamming against her chest. "Do you mean that?"
"What? Of course I mean that, Jess. Why would I say it if I didn't mean it?"
She pressed her lips to his, relief evident in the way her mouth moved against his. After a moment she pulled away and rested her forehead against his.
"You're all I want, too."
"Well, this is a disaster," Schmidt said, casting both Nick and Jess reproving glances as he threw up his hands and repeated, "A disaster!"
"You know, you could just say you're happy for us," Nick said.
"Happy for the impending doom that is now on the horizon for this loft? No thank you, sir."
"What makes you so certain we'll mess this up?"
"Neither of you have exactly shining histories when it comes to relationships," Schmidt said. "Jess, admittedly, is the better of the two but I use the term 'better' loosely."
"You're no one to talk," Jess said. "Need I remind you how to White Fang-ed Cece and still aren't over her?"
Schmidt gave her a look and murmured, "Low blow, Jessica Day."
"Well, it's true. And you're pretty much attacking me and Nick."
"If I can get a word in – which I haven't been able to since this conversation started – I'm happy for you two," Winston said. "But, Nick, I stand by what I told you before. If this implodes, you're out."
"Thanks man," Nick said. "I think."
Schmidt was still stewing and had now gone to muttering under his breath as he noisily worked on the dishes from dinner. Jess walked over to him and said, "Look, I'm sorry about the Cece comment. It's just…it would mean a lot to Nick and I if you could be on our side."
"I did the right thing with Cece," Schmidt held. "Setting her free to be with her people. It feels like a knife is being jabbed in my eye every time I think about her, but I did the right thing.
Jess laid a hand on his arm. "Do you think you could just give it a chance?"
He glanced over at her and said, "I guess I could reserve judgment for a month – if you even make it that long."
She pursed her lips into a frown and said, "That's the best we're going to get, aren't we?"
"I only have so much to give, Jess."
"Alright, we'll take it."
"What are we taking?" Nick asked from the table.
"One month free of Schmidt's judgment," she told him.
"One month?" Nick said. "Seriously, man?"
"Take what you can get, Miller."
"Alright," he relented. "I'll take it."
"Now, some ground rules," Schmidt began, taking his seat back at the table.
"Well, this oughta be good," Nick muttered.
"The first rule, which I assume you already broke earlier, is no sex in the loft." "What? Schmidt, we both live in the loft," Jess argued, sitting down with the rest of them.
"Yeah, come on, Schmidt. Be reasonable."
"Fine," Schmidt said irritably. "No sex when either Winston or I are present. Wait, I'll amend that, no sex while we are present and cogent. If we are asleep, by all means be your nasty selves."
"I second that," Winston said. "I don't want to hear you guys doing anything."
"The second rule – no public displays of affection. That involves all forms of touching including but not limited to kissing, hugging, holding hands and affectionate shoulder patting."
"Affectionate shoulder patting?" Nick muttered. "Seriously, Schmidt?"
"Rule number three," Schmidt said loudly. "No-"
"That's enough," Jess interrupted, standing up from the table. "Nick and I both live here, therefore we get equal uses of the loft. As long as we're not going at it like rabbits on the couch – which, Schmidt, I'm fairly certain you have been guilty of – you guys have nothing to complain about. Capiche?"
"Jess, don't speak like an extra from The Godfather. It just makes you look ridiculous," Schmidt said.
Jess made an exasperated noise and then stormed over to her bedroom, slamming the door loudly behind her. A moment later it opened and Nick stepped inside.
"They are unbelievable!" she said angrily.
"Hey, hey calm down," he said, stepping forward and rubbing his hands along her arms. "It doesn't matter what they say."
"They're going to ruin this."
"No," he said firmly, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her. "They are not going to ruin this. I won't let that happen."
She sighed, resting her cheek against his chest. "You think they'd at least pretend to be happy."
"They'll come around."
"You think?"
"Yeah. I mean, Schmidt's not entirely wrong with what he said. I have a pretty shitty record when it comes to relationships. But this is different."
She glanced up at him. "Why, because you're older and wiser?"
He laughed, dropping his lips to hers for a quick kiss. "No, Jess, because it's you. For the record, I would kick the ass of any other guy I heard saying this, because it is so ridiculously lame, but you're different. What I feel with you is different than the way I've felt about anyone else."
Her stomach was flipping like mad and she attempted to make light of the situation by pointing out that they had only gotten together the prior evening.
"This started a while ago, Jess," he answered, voice serious. "You know that."
Her entire body thrummed with something she couldn't fully understand, and she murmured, "Yeah, I know."
"So," he said loudly, breaking the moment. "They will get over it and everything will be fine."
"Yeah," she said, returning her cheek to his chest. "Everything will be fine."
A/N: I just love these characters so much. Let me know how you liked this!