"Can you read something to me?" Amy asked one afternoon without thinking.
Really, she was thinking. She was definitely thinking about it, but just about how much she wanted to ask that question, and not at all about how that question would sound.
Jake just looked so cute when he was staring at the papers in front of him so intensive and all as he tried to decipher the kid's handwriting. He wasn't even wearing his reading glasses, but that didn't make him look any less cute.
He was sitting across from her on the couch and grading papers like he usually did, but it was a lot more work than Amy ever would have expected to be necessary for elementary school. Even if he wasn't going to score them or use them as a completion grade he had to go through them and see what the kids missed and try to find their thought process and why they missed it. And then he had to compare all of the kid's mistakes to see if a good portion of the class was missing specific questions and if he needed to change the way he was presenting a lesson, or if it was just a particular student or two that needed more one on one instruction with a certain concept.
Before she met him, she would've assumed that the older the kids the more work you'd have to spend on their assignments after they were completed. It just made sense that you would have to spend more time on a 5 page research paper from a 15 year old than some multiple choice questions from an 8 year old. But she knew that was wrong now.
With a teenager it was more or less easy to tell if a student was actually trying or not. If they were succeeding or failing- for the most part you could tell if a kid was doing poorly on assignments because they didn't get it or because they were goofing off. There were usually signs.
But with the younger ones, there was a whole different deal. They could be trying and failing because they didn't get it, they could be goofing off, or they could be not trying at all because they thought it was hopeless that they would ever be able to understand it. And those were just the main reasons. Since the younger they are the more impressionable, they could have been fine at the start of the year before but by the time they came into a teacher's class they were so discouraged that they wouldn't comply even if someone tried to help them.
Of course that could still happen with older students, but there were a lot more interventions that had an opportunity to take place and so most troubles were caught.
So even if they were talking or watching something together while he went over their work he'd still pay attention and Amy would tell him multitasking was bad for his brain and he would always just brush her off. But for mostly anything that wasn't just multiple choice that he could compare to a correct paper/answer sheet he would give it his full concentration.
And whenever Jake was concentrating he would chew on the inside of his lip and snake the tip of his tongue out of the corner of his mouth every so often, which only added the list of reasons she liked looking at him. Like now.
This was one of the assignments he was giving his full attention to since it actually had written answers, so he was on the opposite end of couch with a pen and a stack of papers along with a hard cover book that he was just using as a hard surface to write on.
Amy was actually lying down to where her feet stretched out to his side while she was on her lap top.
Or, at least, that was the plan. She had been staring at him for god knows how long. Her laptop had actually been turned off and placed on the coffee table for a good ten minutes by that point since she had long given up the pretense of doing anything but watching him.
He was always so oblivious and she was thankful for it. Since he had been concentrating on the stack he had been working through he hadn't even looked up at her once, but she'd wiggle her toes on him when she felt like it and every time he tried to hide his smile.
So she was thinking about how cute he was, and about the thought she had the first night she'd been in his house- him reading. She knew how that question would sound and that was why she was intent on not asking it, but she just ruined that plan too.
"Forget your backup glasses again? You really should just leave a pair over here since you have so many of them," he advised her without even looking up and held out his hands and flexed his fingers, "Gimme gimme."
"First of all, that was one time and the first time in years I've been caught without a backup pair so it's not happening again anytime soon. And I don't mean now. Like later."
Really, if she hadn't had said that she would've at least had a hope of backing out gracefully. But she had to defend herself against the glasses accusation because she had kept a pair in her purse ever since she started carrying one even though she almost always wore contacts and the one time was because she hadn't brought her purse, so it was a low blow.
He finally looked up at her then. His eyes scanned between her empty hands (nothing to read there) and her lap top on the table- and he took in her relaxed position. She hoped he just assumed that she was closing her eyes and resting for the past few minutes and not staring at him like she really was.
"Huh? Why?" Jake's eyes narrowed like he was trying to figure out how she was planning to trick him.
"Shut up. Don't make me feel weird about it. It's just a stupid thought I had. Just forget about it," Amy said and wished she could shrink into herself. Because now he was looking at her intrigued with a mix of confusion.
"Like what?" He asked, and this time it was her turn to be confused.
"Huh?"
"What do you want me to read?"
"A book. Just a normal book. Any book," she answered and then flushed when she realized what it implied. Her previous dismissal tried to make it seem like it was just a passing thought, but she had just made it clear that it wasn't a passing though but an earnest request. A weird request. A weird earnest request.
"Anything in mind?"
Amy was so grateful that he wasn't making her feel weird about it and treating it like a normal everyday question, but she knew it wasn't. Even though he was being nice she could still tell he was a little confused about why she wanted him to do it. Even though she thought about it apparently it wasn't long enough because she didn't have anything in mind. Though she planned on never asking him anyway. But she had asked him, and now he was asking her, and she didn't even have an answer prepared.
"I don't know. What are you reading to your kids in class right now?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and when she realized what she had said she buried her face in her palms. "Oh god, I just made it weirder than it already was. Don't do that. Don't read me a kids book. Don't read me any book. I hate myself. Just forget I said anything."
"You have my attention. You know I'm not going to be able to let this go until I know what brought all this on," Jake smirked and she physically cringed.
"No. It's stupid and embarrassing."
"Oh now you have to tell me," Jake chuckled and she regretted using the word embarrassing because that was surely what he was focusing on. She chanced a glance up at him when she felt him shift, and was met with the sight of him wearing that shit eating grin.
"No!" She quickly covered her eyes again as he moved closer.
When Jake started trying to pull her hands away from her face they were both already laughing by then, but she kept up her resistance, and he gave up when he realized he was getting nowhere and her hands were staying on her face.
Jake's hands gravitated down her sides, and she knew what was coming when his fingers started to dance.
"Stop! Stop! I'll tell you!" She squealed after only 10 seconds of tickling. It was good that she wasn't a spy or an undercover cop because she would give up any information in the blink of an eye if they used tickle torture. Her hands were still covering her face and Jake did his part and stopped tickling, but after 30 seconds of silence she knew he was going to start again soon and he wouldn't believe her so easily next time.
"You just- you have a nice voice."
Amy peeked through her fingers when he didn't have a verbal reaction to that. His hands were placed on her knees and he looked like he was waiting for her to finish her statement. Until he realized that was the only thing she was ever going to say, the real, whole and only answer- and it was obvious he wasn't expecting anything like that.
"Really?" He asked, and actually sounded humble, or as close as Jake Peralta could get to humble. His expression was sad, but not on his part. He wasn't feeling sad, but his expression made her sad. He looked like he'd never even considered the possibility that he had a nice voice- hell, he probably didn't. He probably didn't think about his voice at all, good or bad regardless.
So he looked thoughtful, and pleased, and surprised. He wasn't sad at all. But it was the surprise behind his brown eyes that made her sad. Because she could tell that was the first time he was hearing about how great his voice was, and that was just wrong.
It was like when those attractive people with low self esteem would brush off all of the compliments they received with a quick thanks and never really believe it, but when you told them something they could tell you were genuine about, especially if it had nothing to do with appearances and everything to do with just who they were as a person, and they would get this look like they had never even considered that they could do anything right, much less that someone else would think so too. And then they would look at you like you were your own little miracle. Like Jake was looking at her now.
Amy nodded tentatively in response.
"Hasn't anyone ever told you that before?" She still had her hands on her face, but she moved them so she could talk clearly and really just had her hands on her cheeks. Like she was halfway through the peekaboo motion, but she had given up on hiding.
"Uh... No... They haven't. Never." He shook his head like it was a new and novel idea that he couldn't even wrap his head around. Jake was leaned back on his knees more, but she could still feel his hands. He looked serious, but a not-bad serious. She wasn't sure if it was a good serious yet, but she could tell it was a not-bad serious already. As if he didn't look contemplative enough she saw him chewing on the inside of his lip and knew he was really concentrating on what she just said.
Even though it was embarrassing because that wasn't a normal compliment to give to anyone, much less your boyfriend, it was wrong that no one had ever told him that before. He should have been told that a million and one times by now. She would make it a million and two.
There were all of those actors who people would say had the best voices and would make the greatest narrators of their life story or whatever, but that was just it. Their voices were outliers and all it was was how they sounded. Just how the vibrations hit your ear and your brain goes 'that sounds pleasant. I would like to hear more of that'. But it was only just sound. Jake's voice was feelings. It was happiness and warmth and life- and so incredibly wholesome.
Morgan Freeman's voice sounded nice in a movie, and it probably sounded nice in real life too. But it was a novelty. If you were around it every moment it would cease to be something special and just become a small part of him.
But Jake's voice was more than him. His voice was just an extension of Jake Peralta.
"Well you do," Amy said quietly to reaffirm her statement. And he looked down at her so serious and sincere.
That wasn't supposed to be a meaningful compliment. Well, it was, but it was also an embarrassing one that she hoped he would just brush off like he did half the time with meaningful stuff. But this was one of the things he chose to dwell on and when he looked at her she felt so small.
He looked at her like she was something new of her own kind, that she was extraordinary and a wonder. Like sometimes he couldn't believe she even existed. Like she was too good to be true, and she was something only ever theorized to have ever walked the earth in all of history, much less right before his eyes. And she felt too small for his gaze.
He could look at the grand canyon, or the Mona Lisa, or the Aurora Borealis like that. Not her. She knew she was good enough of a person for the most part, so it wasn't that. It was that no living thing that had breath or a pulse ever deserved to be looked at like that. Not the most beautiful person on earth, or a kitten taking its first steps. Not even a unicorn in the wild deserved his eyes.
And Amy was none of those things.
Jake's voice was open. While those famous actor's voices were nice and appealing, you knew you weren't getting all of it. They would always have a tone that they reserved just for certain loved ones, a part of them sectioned off.
But Jake's voice was inviting and welcoming. Accessible.
He gave all of himself to everyone. To anyone. His voice was open and honest and full. He didn't have a tone reserved for anyone, not even her. No matter who you were you had just as much of a chance to hear his warm and affectionate tone as anyone else, and just as much of a chance to hear his reproachful tone too.
His 'I care about you' voice wasn't his default one (though his default one was nice too) but he could start using it on someone who he knew less than an hour, because he would come to care about people in less than an hour. Genuinely care.
So he didn't have a tone restricted for just certain people, not even her.
But without a doubt he did have an Amy Santiago look. A look that she didn't deserve, but his look for her was the best thing she had ever seen.
When he reached to brush the hair out of her face she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. She sighed with his palm resting on her cheek, his thumb making circles on her skin.
She probably shouldn't still be worried saying stuff like this to him. He said weird and goofy (and often sweet) stuff to her all the time, and she did the same. But there was something different about the word voice.
She didn't know why, but somehow 'I like your voice' seemed a lot deeper than 'I like your eyes' or 'I like your smile'. She probably wouldn't even tell her own family members that on their death bed.
Of course Jake was going to tease her later, but it would be that affectionate teasing he used with her. And she would have to roll her eyes and try to hide her smile, even though she would definitely fail each and every time. Either way, she could handle anything if it meant telling him the things he should have heard all of his life.
He brought his lips to hers to kiss her sweet and slow and it wasn't fair for him to claim that he wasn't good with emotions when he did wonderful stuff like this. It wasn't accurate.
He should at least be consistent. Just bad with feelings all the time, good with them all the time, or okay with them all the time.
He wasn't allowed to be absolutely horrible with them 90% of the time and use the rest giving her the most meaningful kisses of her life (like at that moment). She needed a little warning every time he was going to shift from his usual lovable self into literally the most amazing person in the world with these emotional moments.
When he pulled back to breathe Amy wrapped her hands around his neck to make sure he didn't go too far. Far enough to get some air, but close enough that it only required a slight pressure to reel him back in.
While she liked the nice kisses from him (really, she liked any kisses from him) she started warming things up so she could get the hot kisses from him.
She parted her legs so her knees weren't in the way like her previous position and used the hold she had on him to pull him down so she could actually feel his body against hers. She began kissing down his neck to the sound of his heavy breathing (though she was breathing none too lightly with him).
"You really do," Amy said, because she figured she might as well. "Have a great voice. The best. My favorite." She had to fight to not show how much she loved the strangled noise that came from the back of his throat when she nipped him. She didn't try to hide how pleased she was to feel him already growing hard against her, and instead grinded into him and reveled in every sound he made.
Every curse he whispered in her ear in between sucking on her skin dragged her further and further down. She knew he was spoiling her with sound that spilled from his lips since he wasn't even stopping for air and she loved it.
She loved his rasping voice that was gruff with arousal and how much he wanted her. How much he needed her.
Amy wouldn't be able to handle him reading to her in this voice because she wouldn't be able to concentrate on plot lines or story elements. But when he was using this voice and touching her, and when she needed him just as much- it was the best sound in the world.
He told her later that his name never felt like his. More like a description or a label, and not intrinsically his own. Just a shorter way of saying 5'10'' Caucasian male with brown hair and brown eyes at the front of the room. Just an identifier.
Until she said it, that is.
When she said it, that was the first time he knew that Jake Peralta was his name.