A/N: Was supposed to be a one-shot but is now three chapters. A future fic that takes place one year after everyone has left the loft, and probably 2 years after N + J broke up, so I guess AU too. They meet for afternoon drinks. It gets flirty. Hope you like it.
Once, In the Afternoon
She spots him walking in. She'd been sitting for ten minutes already, sipping her pink wine. Always on time, that Jessica Day. She imagined some third party narrating this scene. That's what they'd say – something about her perpetual timeliness. Well, maybe. Because Nick isn't really late – she was actually early, and he was on time. So kudos to Nick.
And more kudos to Nick, Jess is thinking, as he sidles up to her bistro table in the outdoor section of the bar they're at, and he's looking hot. People-watching outside at dusk with a glass of alcohol is just the absolute best. She's a little buzzed, and she's definitely watching people, but she's mostly watching Nick, who is looking hot, did she already say that?Light grey short-sleeved button-up and jeans that make her blush a little. Let's just say they fit.
He leans down and gives her a Euro-style kiss on the cheek, but this is Nick, so she assumes it was an accident, and that he only nailed it by happenstance. It made her feel airy and Parisian, sophisticated and beautiful, just with that one motion that didn't even seem like something he'd do. Then he sits opposite her and settles into his chair. The waitress followed him over, so she's hovering as they say hello.
"Hey Jess. It's really great to see you." Nick says. His eyes rove all over her face and shoulders, lingering on her arms and her chest, really un-self-consciously. Then again, he's a man, and men do that.
"I'm happy to see you, too, Nick." Jess says. She watches his eyes roving. The wine is in her, and she decides she likes the roving. He's made her feel this way before, and she's always liked it. And besides, are those arm muscles? She sees them, clearly. They're Nick's arm muscles, and she likes those too. They're definitely new.
He asks for a craft beer when he's ready, to that same hovering waitress who has been standing right there this whole time, kind of staring at Nick, and Jess tells the waitress she'd like another pink wine, please, because hers is 67% gone now, and Jess is glad when she walks away, finally.
She hasn't seen Nick for almost six months. The last time was at Schmidt's birthday party. Nick had brought a date and Jess had gotten drunk and it made her hate that he was with a date, and she felt like he was ignoring her, but it was probably the other way around. Later on, when she left with a cop friend of Winston's who offered to drive her home, she saw Nick looking wistfully over his shoulder as she left. But he was with that cute blonde chick, so whatever. She didn't owe him an explanation.
And she definitely wasn't going to explain anything about later that night, when she was alone in her bed, and she instructed Nick to do what he did to her that time right after her birthday when they were alone on the roof. The orgasm she'd had that night, her fist clutching his shirt and her other hand holding tight to his bicep as he kept them joined for a while more, sending exquisite electric jolts through her body, expertly maneuvering his hips against her—had made her cry in the best way possible.
And the one she created that night after Schmidt's party featured her mental image of Nick, pressing her against the low wall of the rooftop, and whispering her name as he lifted her dress and hooked his arm under her leg before he slid inside her and she lost herself so hard– that one had made her cry too. Only this time she didn't cry because she felt like a demi goddess writhing under his sensuous calloused hands. Because these were her own hands and she could never, try as she might, get them to do what Nick's did.
It was because she missed Nick, and she was tired of how he wouldn't leave her alone when she was by herself in her bed with just her thoughts and maybe something with batteries, maybe not, and it had taken her five and a half months to contact him again. She'd asked him to meet her for a drink, and it was an email because she didn't want to intrude through some more urgent-sounding means.
He'd responded like it was urgent, though. Less than five minutes later. It took a few days to align schedules, but now here they were.
"You look great." Nick said.
Jess smiled. "Thanks, Nick. So do you."
He looked into his lap for a minute. Then he spoke rapidly, "I was surprised to hear from you. It's been a while, right?"
"Yeah, it has. And we didn't really get a chance to talk much the last time – "
"—at Schmidt's birthday," he kind of cuts her off but it's actually more like he's joining her as the co-creator of the thought. "Yeah, we didn't. I was just…" He pauses, looks into her eyes, "…you know. I'd brought a… a friend, so…"
"Yeah, it wasn't as easy to catch up. I understand." Jess wraps up the thought, looks at her wine, and then over at a couple passing in the street.
He looks sorry about that whole thing, even though he didn't need to be, and he doesn't say it out loud or anything. But his face has the most perfect expression for the moment and it makes her say something dumb.
"Nick, I've been thinking about you a lot."
His eyebrows raise. He leans in.
"You… you have?" He stutters like a little kid. "How so?" He recovers. Nice finish. Steady landing. Ball's back in her court.
She takes a big gulp of wine, puts down her glass. She loses her nerve somewhere in there, skitters around a bit.
"Well, you know. We used to see each other every day. I know the loft era has been over for a year, but…"
Sip of wine, stall, stall, look at people, another, bigger sip of wine.
"…sometimes I really miss you." Phew. There it is. She said it.
He doesn't hesitate at all before he responds.
"Hm. Sometimes. You miss me."
Her eyes flash up at him. "Yeahhh. I do."
Sip of beer, and his tongue darts out to clear his upper lip.
"Well. That's pretty interesting, Jess."
Nick has an odd smile playing across his face as he draws out the sentence.
She can't help but smile too.
"Oh yeah? You think that's interesting?"
He nods, smirks a little. "Yeahhh. I do."
She smirks back.
"Tell me why, Nick."
He's mostly done with his beer and they both nod when the waitress inquires about refills. Then he focuses on her eyes, wills her to hold his gaze, and she is entranced.
"I think it's interesting, Jess, because I miss you too." He clears his throat. "Sometimes."
She shivers a little, and Nick leans back in the slim chair as he waits for her to respond, but the chair creaks ominously as it sits unevenly on the sidewalk. He uses the chair as an excuse to move, picking it up and planting it on the other side of the table. Now he's just to her right, definitely less than ninety degrees. He turns his body so it's angled towards her. He leans back again and crosses his ankle over his knee, drinks the last of his beer.
She takes the cue, turns her own body so she's facing Nick, and puts her elbow on the table top, threading her fingers through her hair and twirling a long piece. She takes another sip of wine.
"Well, it's no good for us to be going around missing each other."
He breathes in. "No, it's not."
Their eyes are locked. Another wine and another beer arrive, but neither of them look up.
"Maybe we should do something about that."
She feels bold, but the feeling disappears when Nick leans into her. They're so close now. He could basically touch any part of her. She makes note of where his hands are – one on the beer, and one holding the front of his shin near his ankle, his elbow resting along his thigh. That's the hand that's so close. She tries so hard not to wish he would reach out for her, caress her hair, maybe squeeze the soft flesh above her hip bone, let his thumb wander a little to press on the sensitive place where her thigh meets her body.
"Like what, Jessica? Please… tell me what you think we should do about that."
She sucks in her breath when she feels it, which happens before she sees it. The long fingers of his left hand – the first two – are extended. They're slowly, delicately stroking the calf of her crossed leg, right at the top, just below her knee, drawing tiny, delicate circles and sliding back and forth along her smooth skin. They're moving like that skin belongs to them, like it's their responsibility to keep it happy.
The contact renders her temporarily mute, and she moans softly.
"Mmm." She breathes out. "I…I'm not sure."
"Oh, no?" He asks. He's completely taken with her response to such a light, mild touch. He could be doing so much more than that. God, he wants to.
"Do you think something like this would help?" he asks, and then he slowly places his palm on her knee, sneaking his fingers underneath it and into the space where her crossed legs meet. She grabs his wrist and feels his pulse pounding, pulls herself closer to his face until they're inches apart. He smells really good, like something that combines old and contented with new and exhilarating, and it's intoxicating.
She doesn't let go of his wrist, stares at all the places where they're touching now, thinks about the constellation of connecting points they've created.
Then she tugs gently at him, and he lets go of her knee, places his hand on the outside of her thigh, squeezes with subtle urgency. He looks at her face, at her eyes, and she can feel the space disappearing, and oh god, this is really happening.
When they kiss, their tongues are cold from drinking, and their lips are searing with heat and the contrast sends lightning flashes across her closed eyelids and thunder rumbles somewhere in her center as his fingers snake up her neck along her jaw and behind to the back of her neck. They're winding into her hair, while his thumb is drawing those same delicate circles along the skin of her throat, and she moans into his mouth until she can feel him smiling.
She pulls away, breathless. She's riveted, can't stop looking at his eyes, at his face.
He's still smiling, and his hands are exactly where she wants them.
Jess breathes deeply and closes her eyes.
The waitress hovers, but then she nods and disappears when Nick motions for the check.
xxxxxxx