Title: It Has to be Over
Rating: M
Warnings: Angst? Sex! Nothing too terrible, really.
Spoilers: Up to the wedding, 1x03
It's late, and you're lying in bed watching TV on the mercifully un-smashed television set in your medium sized bedroom when you hear a knock on the door. Jess pushes the door open slightly, and sticks her head in. When she sees you're awake, the rest of her body follows, pajama clad. "Whatcha watching?" she wants to know, but doesn't wait for an answer as she scrambles up beside you under your blankets.
You let her in, and hand her the remote. She flips through the channels until she finds one that plays an endless loop of infomercials. There's one showing a large blanket suit available in primary colours. She giggles and merrily points out the butt-flap. She's easy to have around, although you do find her theme song jingles slightly aggravating, sometimes.
"I'm sorry about tonight," you say again, because you can't help feeling guilty and you definitely can't stop thinking about the fact that Caroline has a new boyfriend. It's unconscionable, really, that you feel even worse now than you did when she broke up with you the first time.
Jess looks up at you through her thick bangs. "Don't worry about it, Nick. Love makes us do crazy things." She rolls her eyes a little, and fixes her attention back to the infomercial that's playing. You get the idea she's talking from experience.
Time passes, and she makes no move to leave, although the quality of the televised merchandise decreases steadily. She's nestled neatly into your side, and it seems obvious to put your arm around her shoulders and tuck her in a little more. You're not sure if she's staying because she can tell how much you need someone, or because of how much she needs it too.
She's the one who makes the first move, although predictably, she seems unaware that she made it. The TV hisses into silence. This is probably the worst idea you've had all day (and that includes that time you stole a full bottle of Whiskey at your friends' wedding and proceeded to abuse a life-sized cardboard cutout of them, the entire ordeal captured for posterity on film), but you turn slightly towards Jess and find she's already looking at you.
You both lean forward at the same time, and her eyes seem impossibly blue before they close.
"This is a terrible idea," you say, because it seems like someone ought to get it out there, put in on the record, so to speak.
"The worst," she confirms, but kisses you back anyway.
You're both already practically lying down, so it's easy to roll her over slightly until you're looming over her. She smells nice, and her hair is spread across the pillows like an offering to make up for all the heartbreak you've been feeling these last few months.
"I can't be what you need," Jess whispers into your ear. She's shrugging out of her tank-top anyway, and you can tell she's trying not to imagine that you're Spencer. It's ok, since you're constantly seeing Caroline out of the corner of your eye and trying to pretend that you're not pretending Jess' brown hair is blond and her nose is slightly longer and her hips a little wider under your calloused hands. It's easier to close your eyes, and nuzzle into the side of her neck, especially when she's crooning so softly under you. "I can't be what you need," she says again, and kisses you back.
It's a little awkward, like Jess, but she smells nice and has soft skin and it's easy to find the familiar motions and soon you're rutting against her leg like a fifteen-year-old boy. Not your finest moment, to be sure, but she doesn't seem to mind. Her eyes are closed and her head is tipped back into the pillow as you greedily clasp her bared breast and roll her nipple between your fingers until it's taut. When you put it into your mouth, she gasps, and it feels like she's finally paying attention. You bite, just a little, and she makes yet another noise, one that you haven't heard yet.
It's a little bit ridiculous how fast you are able to pull off your sweatpants when both of your hands are firmly attached to her body.
Eventually and without more than the necessary amount of aplomb, you're naked, and in bed with a girl who is most certainly not Caroline. You find it doesn't matter that much, at least not at the moment, and you think Jess is probably on the same page as you, judging by the fact that she's kissing the side of your neck and writhing beneath you. You participate with fervor, matching her kiss for kiss, and thrust for thrust. She's warm, and it feels like she's touching you everywhere. It's been so long, too long, and you desperately don't want it to be over just yet. Unfortunately, it feels like if you slow down, the moment could vanish, so you don't. Instead, you reach over somewhat blindly until your hand meets wood, and fumbling, you extract a condom from somewhere in the cavernous regions of "fucking non-seriously" and "not yet monogamous".
You think that unknowingly you made an error when she takes the small contraceptive packet out of your fingers and pulls away from you.
"We're just roommates," she says, looking you in the eye. You think she means to say more, but instead she reaches forward to take your hand. It occurs to you to stop this madness before it gets any more out of control, when it's not too late to turn back, but you don't respond, instead staring at where her fingers are wrapped tightly around yours.
Another pause, and she pushes at your shoulder, and you gratefully follow her lead, suddenly out of your depth. She tenderly arranges you on the bed, limbs akimbo, and leans down to kiss along your chest. Her long black hair falls in a curtain across her face, which is so startlingly different from Caroline that you are almost able to forget about her, at least for the moment. You would weep tears of gratitude if you didn't think it would irrevocably sour the mood.
You help her pull down her hello-kitty panties and watch as she clambers over your thighs. She doesn't lift her eyes from the task at hand as she rolls the latex down your length. It gives you a chance to silently send up a prayer to the God of Casual Hook-ups that you don't embarrass yourself by coming too quickly, like maybe before she's even really touched you. It's been a while, to say the least.
Jess takes a steadying breath and gives you a few reassuring strokes, before slowly, so slowly, lowering herself onto you. Only when she's fully seated in your lap does she look down at you. She closes her eyes and begins to rock her hips. It feels different than you're used to, although the mechanics are, obviously, the same. You think she's feeling a little weird too, since it takes her a while to find her rhythm, and you're not sure how to touch her without cataloguing the differences between how it can be and what it is. Eventually you settle on grasping her hips and breasts intermittently, sliding up into her smaller, elfin body with an ease born only through repetition of a familiar act.
You're both trying to be quiet, since the moment seems tenuous at best (not to mention the slumbering roommates who would feel obliged to point out the folly of this midnight excursion), but neither of you can help the small chirps and hums and sighs that you are making. It feels too good to stop.
And suddenly, she's coming. Jess smiles down at you, before tipping her head up and letting nature take its course. Her body wracks, and you grip her hips and hold on. The noise she makes, a solitary burble, part moan, part giggle, is one you will file away for later consideration to replay (again and again) while jerking off in the shower. (These frequent ventures will feature a confusing mixture of Caroline and Jess, but that's a problem for another day.)
For now, however, you use the momentum provided by her last bounce to flip her over. She makes a surprised noise, and clings to your neck as you pound into her (again and again) wrapping one of her legs more securely around your waist. The time for nice and slow is gone, you feel, and Jess seems to agree by the pretty noises she's making in your ear. "Oh!" you hear, and "ah!" and "God!". Although the mechanics are the same, it's different from how it was with Caroline. Fuck, there's really no reason to be thinking about her at the time like this, but somehow she keeps intruding.
"Fuck," you growl, and shift Jess higher up your body, plunging in again and again with stalwart intention.
"Oh!" Jess says, her face a picture of perfect surprise.
When she comes for the second time, you take the opportunity to do so as well. It's a welcome relief, and you think nothing has ever felt as good as it does right now. She clenches around you, accommodating, until your breathing slows. Jess wipes your hair off your forehead and presses a kiss above your eyebrow. It feels shockingly intimate, despite the antics that have just taken place. You kiss her on the mouth and then disembark, disposing of the spent plastic contraceptive with a proffered tissue. You'd think you'd been doing this for years, a picture of domesticity.
Now's the time for awkwardness, although perhaps not, because she's grinning at you, and suddenly, she's just Jess, and you're just Nick, and maybe this wasn't such a horrible mistake after all.