Authors Note:
While Evasive Maneuvers doesn't have any smut (so far, at least) I have upgraded the story from T to M rating as per guidelines, since there's some...suggestive content coming up.
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It wasn't the light squeak of door-hinges, or soft padding of feet that woke Nick - but the slight dip in the mattress beside him. His sleeping bag rustled, as a warm body pressed up against the length of him through the thin fabric. He opened his heavy lidded eyes to find the room pitch black. Yet, despite his inability to see who lay beside him, the warm floral scent confirmed her identity.
Words failed him as Jess slung her leg over his to sit astride him, hips flush against his own. A tangled mixture of surprise and excitement spread through him. He lay motionless, anticipating her next move. Delicate hands smoothed their way across his chest, coming up to cup his face. Moving closer, her nose bumped against his own and a cascade of soft hair fell to form a delicate curtain around their faces. She was so close. Nick could feel her, hear her, smell her. But it wasn't enough - he had to taste her. Reaching up into the darkness, his lips sought hers for a desperate moment before their mouths met. He circled his arms around her waist. They fit together perfectly, his arms were made for holding her. With a sigh he kissed her open mouthed, drinking her in. Their hips moved against one another, the friction dragging a moan from deep within his chest, to which she responded by deepening the kiss.
Nick could feel himself coming undone. Light filled his vision and his body felt as if it were falling from a great height at high speed. He grasped her more tightly, sealing her mouth with his in an attempt to eliminate any space between them. To his confusion, the harder he tried to hold onto her, the lighter she felt in his arms. The delightful weight of her began to dissipate, and he struggled to keep his eyes closed and hone in on the sensations that had been so strong just seconds ago. Writhing against the covers, Nick fought against the reality of his waking, before reluctantly opening his eyes to the oppressive morning sun.
Light strobed in through the thin curtains, illuminating a bed that contained only him. He turned his head slowly to either side, trying to figure out where Jess had gone. But it was painfully obvious that Jess had never been there to begin with. He'd dreamt the entire thing, and the only tangible reminder was an uncomfortable stiffness in his pants.
Well, that may have been an awful dream to wake up from, but at least it's better than those nightmares where I have lobster arms...
Nick realised the following morning that the only person he'd talked to about kissing Jess was Cece. It had been helpful, but he still felt unsure about how to proceed. There had been an air of finality to their conversation, like she was pointing him in the right direction before leaving him to figure out the rest.
He desperately needed to talk to somebody sane. Cece was out and Schmidt wasn't an option, as his solution to any romantic quandary was for the individual to undergo comprehensive manscaping - the theory being that he who possessed a well groomed groin could woo any woman.
This left Nick one option - Winston.
But he didn't have the gumption to initiate a conversation, let alone the energy to put on pants and journey across the loft. He would camp out in his room again.
Unfortunately, since he'd ended up doing a decent job of cleaning his room the previous day, there was nothing to occupy his time. For a while he lay motionless on the bed, wishing for the millionth time that he had the wiffy password.
With a heavy sigh Nick sat up in bed, before leaning forward in an awkward attempt to touch his toes. He'd woken up feeling shorter this morning, as if the shame of his sexually charged dream was physically weighing heavily on him.
Nick rolled off the bed, and eventually meandered over to his desk. He found himself staring down at the screen of his computer, hoping that close proximity would be enough to encourage the jagged zombie teeth of inspiration to clamp down on him.
Eyes fixated on the slow tessellation of his psychedelic screensaver, it took Nick a moment to register the rhythmic knocking on his bedroom door.
"Yeah?" He called.
Jess leaned sideways through the door, waving hello.
"Hey Nick, I have class soon. Can you look after Feather? Winston's asleep and Schmidt threw a scarf at me when I asked."
She looked gorgeous, eyes bright and lips stained a rosy pink. His mind drifted back to the dream. Images of her soft velvet mouth tugging against his, cautious but hungry for more. The feeling of her tongue swiping across his lips, tentatively at fir-
"Nick...?"
Blinking fast, the fantasy faded from his vision. Obviously, her face was not a safe focal point right now, so he would have to stare at her feet instead.
They are so damn dainty looking. And the strappy red shoes she'd chosen were just enhancing their beauty. Something told him they'd look wonderful wrapped around his waist.
Oh God.
He was getting turned on by a foot, and worst of all - noticing fashion.
He needed Jess to leave as soon as possible. A groan rose in his throat as he realised the only way to get her cute little feet and gorgeous face out of his room was to agree to babysit the damn bird.
"Alright, but don't you think for a second I'm gunna pre-chew its food for it" Nick yelled after Jess, who was already running towards her room to grab Feather.
With her arms outstretched and hands cupped, Jess handed Nick the fluffy creature.
"And don't you worry Nick, this guy has a beak so strong he managed to peck his box to pieces, crunchy bird seed is no match for him." She laughed, before adding "And… thanks so doing this. I got ready extra fast this morning just so I'd have enough time to convince you to look after him - I had a whole speech prepared and everything!"
"Yeah yeah yeah, it's nothing. Now get outta here, you crazy goose!"
She responded to his surprising enthusiasm with a bright smile, before heading out of the loft. The door clicks shut and silence settles over him.
Nick lets out a huge breath he hadn't realised he was holding in - the tightness in his chest easing slightly.
"I guess its just me and you then, huh little guy?" A question to which Feather responds by cocking his head to the side, eyes wide and focused on a spot just above Nicks head.
"No eye contact eh? Smart. That kind of thing only gets you into trouble."
Some time later, Nick sits on his lopsided office chair,watching Feather navigate the bumpy surface of his unmade bed. He had to admit that despite initially thinking that the bird should have been left where they'd found it, the thing was starting to grow on him. Jess was doing a wonderful job nursing the small creature back to health too. The broken wing was wrapped in a swath of green polka dot fabric, ripped from a headscarf Nick recalled Jess wear countless times and refer to as her favourite. Feather was a bundle of energy, but one that was very unbalanced - causing him to often fall sideways with a small Peep. But every time he'd just roll over, stand up, and keep bouncing around as if he'd never fallen over in the first place.
A bird with such spunk deserves a better name than Feather…That name makes no damn sense, It's like calling your kid Skin. Why would you do that?
"All the other birds are probably gunna make fun of you, especially with that fabric sling. If you're gunna make it in this doggy dog world, you need everyone to know you're a badass. Look at me, I found this t-shirt in a McDonalds bathroom. And yes, it is covered in mustard. But It tells a story, about a man who takes what life gives him and damn well knows how to enjoy a good hot dog. Nobody is gunna mess with me in this shirt!"
Feather came to a stop in the middle of the bed, eyes focused on Nicks mustard stained Tee.
"Yeah, you should be impressed. Now we've just got to work that Nick Miller magic on you. Starting with the name."