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letsperaltiago · 1 year

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did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room? |jake x amy|

Some canon-compliant early relationship fluff (aka. one of my all time fave tropes) for you all :') And yes that hand-holding-article is real ahah. Prompt: "you can kiss me, you know." + "don’t mind me. just enjoying the view. " Words: 3.3k Rated: G

Leaving Shaw’s, she’d intended to stay away; the bar, the precinct, the mess, just everything, was to be left behind. Between depressing messages of hope, Yoghurt-mourning speeches, and then Jake’s… weird but also very sweet declaration of intentions on stage, it’d all been a tad too much for her. Primarily the latter. Jake. Gosh, if there was one thing she wanted more than anything it was to be with him. Easily and simply. Alas, the Vulture made it more than hard: impossible. How could she accept Jake be demoted for her? A girl he’d dated for 6 six days. Sure, there’d been almost two years of mutual, however staggered, idiotic pining which gave their new thing, relationship, whatever it was, some sort of emotional precedence, but still it seemed irrational and unnecessary that she’d have to cost him his dream job. No way. Not on her watch.

Which is exactly why she’d fled the scene. Not because of Jake telling her (and every other mourner in the bar) that six days together had been enough for him to know that they had something special, and that he wouldn’t give up on them because all he cared about was being with her. See that actually made her blush like a school girl, a flock of butterflies set free in her belly in the best and most horrible way at the same time, because that was probably when she really realized how serious Jake was about them… about her. It scared her. How did Jake Childman Peralta go from being her annoying colleague to suddenly showing, even publicly declaring (officially to his dead boss, that is) that he cared more about her than his own dream? It scared the hell out of her but in a good kind of way. Scary with Jake somehow felt good, and if it wasn’t for their dirtbag of a boss she’d been grabbing Jake’s hand and jumped off whatever cliff she and Jake were currently standing on.

Dead end. That’s what they were. She could see it in his eyes as he approached her with careful steps, catching her in the midst of packing her things. The hopelessness of the situation, their very own Gordian knot, sucked the courage out of his otherwise always bold and bright eyes as he confessed to being all out of plans and didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t a lot he got to say before Captain Holt had interrupted their despairing deliberation. Nevertheless, unmistakably and clear as day, it was all she needed to know and deep down already knew: Jake really cared about her and she about him… even more than she’d initially admitted to her still somewhat apprehensive self.

After getting their asses saved, quote Holt himself, Amy saw the light and liveliness instantly come back to Jake’s eyes, the darkest dreadful brown shadows of his irises driven away by gleeful hazelly highlights. Having previously felt as if she was the Greek titan Atlas carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, now knowing that nothing would stand in the way of them being together, the immense weight melted away in an instance. If Holt hadn’t been there and they weren’t in the middle of a buzzing precinct, she would’ve jumped into Jake’s arms and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. Relief rushed through her veins, her blood circulating in a surge that reminded her that this was what feeling alive truly felt like. It could in no world, past life or parallel universe be wrong to be with Jake if it made her feel like this.

It was safe to say that Holt had already had his fair share of drama and drinks that day. Thus, after giving the two a nod and discrete look of delight (which by Holt-standards was equal to a blinding smile), he bid them a rest of the evening and trotted off to get a cab home to Kevin and Cheddar.

Then there was two. Just the two of them.

Jake turned to look at her, offering her thoughtful eyes and an amused smirk which let her know he had something in mind. She didn’t care what. Not in the sense that she didn’t care about what he was thinking; in the sense that he could tell her anything, as lame, crazy, boring, weird or whatever it might be, and she would gladly listen.

“Bar?”

“Definitely,” she grinned back, forgetting how she had cursed that place just 30 minutes ago. Amused and damning her blood for so shamelessly running to and ehancing her cheeks everytime he as much as looked her way. Before she could reach for her bag, he’d beat her to it and held the black leather tote by its long handles. His arm and hand came to the perfect length, she thought eyeing how the bag hung just two inches above the ground.

“C’mon,” he uttered, playfully hitting her knee with her bag, then reaching out for her hand with his free one. The skin was soft, warm, perhaps even alien still but in way in which she couldn’t wait for it to feel familiar. His hand held hers, his palm facing downwards into hers, and this very specific article she’d once read in a women’s magazine about what different kinds of handholding meant popped into her mind. This kind of handhold, palm against palm, fingers wrapped around the other’s hand, was often a protective handhold where the person whose palm faced downward had the protective role. It was silly, she knew, but right then as he towed her with him into the now dark streets of Brooklyn, she liked the thought of it being true.

Consequently, the recent return of good news brought them back to scene they’d fled from just 30 minutes ago. The bar was still crowded, mostly occupied by half-drunk officers and higher ranked officials, and the doomsday atmosphere from earlier had disappeared along with Dozermanns framed picture and the mic - which was probably for the best, Amy thought as they made their way to the bar to place their orders.

“Beer?” he leaned against the bar.

“Beer,” she confirmed back, copying his pose and smiling at the sight of him carefully placing her bag on the stool next to him, keeping on hand on top of it meanwhile the other was used to signal two fingers.

“Two beers, Hank.”

Hank nodded in approval.

“I’ll just put my bag in the car, Jake. It’s annoying to have to look after it.”

His head snapped to look at her.

“It’s really no problem, Ames. Really.” He smiled softly and patted the soft, black leather.

“You’re cute.” Gosh, he really was. Especially standing there in his nice uniform, handsome features highlighted by the glow of the bar’s twinkle lights. It sometimes rushed over her like a tidal wave just how cute he was and, honestly, it made her head spin a little. “But I’ll put it in the car.”

She grabbed one of the straps, about to pull, however Jake was quicker grabbing the other. Suddenly stuck in a tug-of-war of sorts, each their own strap with the rest of the bag dangling in the middle. Their eyes locked in with the others. She cocked a dark eyebrow challenging his actions. Jake on his side didn’t speak up and simply kept looking at her, eyes shining with mischief, a certain warmth and dreamy enchantment she wasn’t quite used to handling yet. Thus they stood there, neither of them letting go nor saying anything, one second after the other passing by as the sound of clinking glasses, laughter, music, and popped bottles subdued. Somehow, to her, it was just the two of them at that moment.

��What are you doing?” she chuckled, never letting her eyes slip from his.

For a moment he said nothing, simply keeping his eyes entangled with hers, shining with something so strong it had her blush coming right back to her cheeks - or had it ever really left? How could a couple of brown eyes, a pair he’d known for so long and looked into a million times before, shake her to her core like they did now?

“Don’t mind me - just enjoying the view." He broke his silence. Distracted by the newfound charming smirk plastered on his face (the kind where it was mostly one corner doing the smiling while the other curled playfully) she failed to pay attention to anything else, and to her surprise, she suddenly felt a strong tug on the strap in her hand. Being taken off guard of course resulted in her body being roughly drawn across the space between the two, and she couldn’t tell if it was his plan. Whether or not it was, she, as a result of the sudden tug, felt her chest bump into his. If it hadn’t been for their reflexes telling their necks to yield back to avoid their heads bumping together, bleeding noses would definitely have been served. Instead, chins tugged bak from the yielding, they found themself inches from being nose tip to nose tip. His hands had instinctively flown to grab her hips to save her from tumbling further, and Amy could feel her breath hitch in her throat, taken back by the sudden move and the sudden proximity between them. It was when she was about to look at him and tell him off with a stupid, awkward joke that he noticed his lightly agape mouth and eyes drifting down to admire her lips. So close. They were so close, his always minty breath touching her face.

Her cheeks must’ve been fiery red by now. How had she ever gone so long without giving in to him when her body reacted so strongly to his presence?

She’d been pretty sure he didn’t do it consciously, however, still, she became even more aware of their very suddenly intimate position once his thumb slowly swept across her hipbone

Yup, now she was definitely blushing. Speechless too, which was silly because, during the little less than a week they’d been dating, he’d been doing his fair share of shameless flirting and touching. Yes, that had mostly been in the privacy of either of their apartments. Never out in public amongst their peers which perhaps must’ve had him panicking a bit on the inside. From the look in his eyes she could tell the very exact moment he realized that a flirtatious punchline had slid right off his tongue and into the open air of what could be considered a work event. They’d talked a lot, like a lot, about worries, conserving mixing pleasure and business, pro-fer-sonal, as Jake liked to call it. It was mostly her worrying: she didn’t wanna risk getting in trouble or sabotaging her life-plan with any missteps. Even though he loved teasing her about it, he also respected it, which was now obviously showing on his face. His previously so mischievous smile was replaced by a nervous biting of his lips, a wistful gaze transformed into nervousness, and she could tell he was recalculating everything in his mind at a million miles per hour - or at least trying to. He was without a doubt trying to figure out if he’d crossed a line, and, if so, how he’d undo it.

Any other day in the past she would’ve probably turned to the easy solution: playfully pushed him off and hit him with a tongue-in-cheek comment. Today felt different. After spending a week holding their breaths and walking on eggshells around the Vulture, questioning everything they felt and had now finally given in, it’d feel so wrong to play it off cool and collected, acting as if they weren’t together because… they were. They were finally together for real; it’s what they’d been fighting for so long. Both each had their own respective battles but also their collective battle against the Vulture which only proved that they’re the best team. In more than just the professional way now, and this she had to allow herself to give in to.

She heard hin swallow nervously, eyes switching between the ground, her eyes, and her lips. Around them, no one seemed to notice. The two of them. This was just the two of them, Amy reminded herself, and that was all that mattered.

“You can kiss me, you know?” Tumbled out of her before she could overthink and regret it, which must’ve taken both herself and Jake by surprise. His before fly-swallowing gaping lips shut like a mousetrap and finally, she felt his eyes focus on hers once more. No constant moving, nothing, just his eyes looking into hers. Thump, she heard, as he let her bag fall to the ground. Strong fingers dug into the flesh of her hips with newfound confidence and she could tell that he finally hit that “screw this”-realization as well. He leaned in, covering the tiny bit of remaining space between them, and even then, just her luck, she could see his lips curl back into a smile.

“Oh yeah,” he cocked his eyebrows. “Lucky me,” he whispered just so he could feel lips ghosting against her before he, finally, drew her in entirely and welcomed her lips with his. As if they hadn’t already done a good amount of kissing, they were sucked into a tiny bubble of their own where nothing nor no one mattered. Their lips danced perfectly in sync, shifting between drawing in and fighting for dominance, to a melody that couldn’t be heard but could instead be felt. In that very moment, upon raising herself to stand on the tip of her toes and slide her hands around his neck, Amy had never been happier. Even in a crowded bar of colleagues and superiors, she couldn’t care less what people thought. For so long she’d yearned to know what Jake Peralta what feel and taste like, and now she could finally explore it whenever she wanted. For how long they stood like that, her bag thrown to the ground, his hands on her waist, her hands stroking his neck, she had no idea. It was slow, sweet, caring, nothing urgent or inappropriate, everything she needed and wanted. Each kiss was its own little earthquake.

Sure, they did suffer some teasing, cat calling and whistling from their friends once they found them in a booth in the back corner of the bar. Knowing it was all with good intentions, they laughed it off, and for once, rather than it being Amy, it was Jake’s cheeks showing fifty shades of red. The evening proceeded as always, but better, Amy thought, as they played footsies under the table as Boyle told some absurd cuisine-related story. Two hours later she felt equally happy when leaving Rosa and Charles behind at the bar, not a single care in the world-like, as they made their way to her car parked in the precinct garage. They were joking, laughing at some lame joke he’d pulled out of thin air when suddenly he halted.

“Ames, your bag?”

“My bag?” she frowned at him when suddenly she realized that neither she nor he carried it. “Oh sh-”

“Hey, don’t worry! It’s probably still in the booth. Go ahead to the car and I’ll meet you there. Okay?” ” He smiled, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

Her eyes softened as she offered him a thankful smile back. How did she get so lucky?

“Thank you.”

All Amy could do was smile to herself as she watched him jog back to the bar. She even found herself standing there for a moment after he’d disappeared into the dark, wondering just how she ever lived a life without this version of Jake Peralta in her life. Once reached her car, leaning against the side of it to wait, she took out her phone and gave into the mindnumbing act of scrolling through whatever social media timeline was the hype then and there. That’s when a text notification at the top of her screen caught her eye.

Rosa Diaz: jake overheard a group of beat cops talking about you guys. he stomped out of the bar like an angry child lol

Amy frowned at the message. What was going on and where was Jake? She wasn’t left wondering for too long. The sound of steps came closer, fast, and she just barely managed to recognize Jake’s figure before he’d dropped her bag on the ground next to her and pulled her into a kiss. Not just any kiss. A deep, warm, pushed-up-against-the-side of-her car-kind of kiss that had her toes curled in her uniform shoes. He didn’t seem angry or any kind of mood to worry about, however, something had definitely added some kind of fuel to his fire. The garage was dead silent, only the increasing intensity and loudness of their breathing could be heard. Amy felt swept off her feet, caught in a perfect storm where his body was the hurricane and their lips battled in the eye of it. Hands on her waist, feeling and stroking it with care, nails and fingers caught in his brown locks. She smiled and she felt him smile back, even though the intensity and lust of the moment. Deep down he’d always be a big softie.

He pulled back a bit, breaking them apart, only to gaze into her eye with awe and admiration as if they hadn’t just spent the last couple of days being together. There was admiration, lust, and warmth, shining in them. Somehow the kiss had felt like a milestone, some sort of first kiss, in a way she couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“You okay?” she whispered smiling, bopping the tip of his nose with her own in comfort. “Rosa texted me saying you stomped off.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, but she could tell he felt embarrassed.

“Nothing.”

“That kiss wasn’t nothing, Peralta.” She teased with a grin.

“It was really good, huh? Our first kiss as a non-threatened and non-soon-to-be-extinct couple.” Two could play that game.

“Wow, so dark... and yes, it definitely was really good. Not gonna lie.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “But tell me what it was all about.”

“It was all about me being grossly obsessed with you.” He grinned and jabbed the sides of her waist, causing her to jump and giggle, caught in between his arms and the car.

“Jake,” she scolded softly, impossible to help it when her smile stayed stuck on her face.

He sighed, removing one hand from the side of her car to rub her forehead. “It was nothing, really. Just overheard some clowns talk about how bummed they were to find out that I’d … and I quote, “won you over by sheer luck”.”

Oh… so people had noticed them, huh? Expecting herself to panic, overthinking what people would say or think, Amy was surprised by how calm and rather amused she felt upon hearing what had happened. It was as if it didn’t matter anymore. They were together, after all.

“Oh, okay,” she nodded, not knowing what to say. Was he mad? Annoyed? Was she supposed to comment on it?

“So I…” he bit his lip, pausing to think, “I just wanted to get back to you and really appreciate the luck that got me here.” The smile on his face was back, all restrains and tension about the situation, which he knew was more than silly, melted away. “Like wow, I just had to get back to you and appreciate how I get to just… kiss you whenever and wherever? And get to have these fans slash beat cops cheering us on?”

He smirked proudly and all Amy could do was laugh. “You really are the lucky one, huh?”

“I am, Ames. I really am. Also, so sorry for just jumping you. Should’ve thought that through - Brooklyn after dark isn’t exactly a safe haven.”

“Don’t worry.” She smirked as she snaked her arms around his neck and pulled him into her, leaning her back against the car. Lips just far enough apart to not touch, she whispered “We’re both the lucky ones - that’s all that matters, Peralta.”

#not beta'ed sorry the mess:))))#peraltiago #fic #fanfic #jake and amy #jake x amy #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #b99 #peralta #santiago #oneshot #fluff

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letsperaltiago · 2 years

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we’ll sweet out the ashes in the morning | chapter 11 |

Even in the middle of New York's freezing month of February, a scandalous familiar fire is ignited within Jake and Amy when they run into each other after years apart. Luckily there's nothing wrong with being caught up in a fire that has to die out soon, right?

Read the new chapter here or on AO3

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Friend.noun. a person with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically one exclusive of sexual or family relations.

Alas then, at least according to the very reliable-looking dictionary he’d looked up online, Amy Santiago was his person with whom he had a bond of mutual affection, very much one exclusive of sexual or family relations.

It was clear as day and very much written in stone, to an extent where it almost felt like a pact between the two, and yet Jake had spent most of the late summer struggling with settling down in this new role. Actually, when he thought about it, which he did a lot , the role wasn’t actually new but rather like being demoted to beat cop. He’d done it before and it was cool… but, now that he’d tried it, definitely not as cool as being a detective.

Friends. They’d been friends before. It was the foundation of their entire relationship and it had been great, one of his most treasured ones, though now that he’d tasted what came after friends… going back didn’t feel like the natural, evident outcome he’d wished for.

Contrary to him, or at least that’s how he saw it, Amy seemed very happy with everything. Well, it also did happen to be, at least to some extent, “on her terms” (she’d been the one to propose the friendship after all). So maybe he just needed to be more open-minded and come to terms with everything himself. In the end, being her friend shouldn’t be seen as a punishment; perhaps rather the most logical way for them to be in each other’s lives still.

And so he tried: he remained positive because a friend-Amy was better than no Amy at all, and by the time October’s autumn leaves hit the ground, he’d gotten more or less accustomed to the blooming friendship whose seed they’d planted that day on Charles’ couch.

He’d respect her boundaries nonetheless but now that she was with Teddy, she was that much more off-limits and he had no reason to overthink the things she said or did. Dual-ended as it seemed, the fact that Amy was dating someone else actually helped. In some weird and twisted way. If a spiraling train of thought snuck up on him, he’d practiced the art of putting it to bed, and ‘what ifs…’ and ‘maybe ifs…’ became rarer and rarer these days. Of course, it hadn’t been all smooth sailing right away, but after grabbing beers at Shaw’s with their mutual friends (the squad pretended to know nothing of their hookup and slipup), it seemed easier to sink back into their preceding friendship: Santiago and Peralta made reappearances and the familiarity of the dynamic helped a lot. It was suddenly easy to see why they were and had to remain friends.

The first ‘friendly hangout’ definitely relied on the presence of their friends sparking and pacing conversations right and left, across the booth table. One beer took the other and it took no more than the first for Jake and Amy to reconcile with their old liaison and way of being. Not wanting to engage in “further and unnecessary inebriation”, Holt left the gathering first, soon followed by Terry who had daddy duties waiting for him at home. This left the remaining quartet, Rosa, Charles, Jake, and Amy, to their own demise. Everything seemed like old times like nothing had ever changed, and here Jake dared to admit to himself that maybe , just maybe, everything could someday feel normal again. When he sat there across from Amy, laughing about cock-and-bull stories from the 99, it was as if he could fight the flashing memories.

Running into Amy during an icy cold New York-winter day and immediately feeling warmed by her presence. Talking, laughing, drinking beer, and taking shots as if they’d never been apart. Kissing Amy on top of the pool table. Showing up at her doorstep in the middle of the night, confessing his feelings as if his life had depended on it. Touching her naked skin and seeing every inch of her unravel before her.

Now suddenly, once again, he could take a step back and appreciate her presence for what it was. He loved having her around, no matter what label and social rules defined them.

“Oh my goodness, please let’s not talk about that…” Jake groaned, wincing at Amy’s mentioning of that time they worked their first case together, summer of 2009, and he’d foolishly underestimated the fierceness of his new partner.

“Yes, yes, I wanna talk about it!” Amy insisted, laughing, knowing he’d been, and still was to this day, very embarrassed about his own behavior. Rosa and Charles both sat in silence, smiling smugly. Rosa because she loved seeing Jake embarrassed; Charles because his dream couple seemed to be powering through their turbulent history.

“On our first stakeout together, Jake tried to book this really creepy druglord, Antonio Fenado, who’d put in circulation pounds of cocaine and harassed multiple women. Being that I was brand new at the 99, trying to be either gallant or cocky - to this day I still don’t know-”

“Gallant,” Jake chimed in an attempt to save face but from the glint in Amy’s eyes, he could tell she would spare no detail, and, at that moment, he felt a familiar rush prickling through his entire body. The prickling and tingling only attention from Amy could provoke. There was something about her teasing and taunting him, even if innocently, that could make his heart flutter and skin tingle like a school boy with a crush.

“Hmmm, yeah, no, the 2009-version of you was definitely being cocky and kind of a jerk to the new girl. You told me that it was safer for me to wait in the car and keep an eye out for shady activity while you confronted Fenado.”

“Damn, Jake, you really are a sexist idiot,” Rosa, obviously pleased with Jake’s embarrassment, joined the ongoing public humiliation.

“I am not!”

“Sounds like what a guilty person would say,” Rosa had found the right button to push and she loved it.

“I was trying to be considerate ,” the young man fumbled, desperately, as yes, his younger self definitely had lacked self-knowledge and reflections beyond the borders of his own little bubble of an action movie-universe. The more he thought about it and the older he got, it was easy to see. “... But I guess I was an idiot. I actually was being a sexist jerk and I’m sorry about that.” He smiled sheepishly.

“You were,” Amy smiled back, confident and content with his confession, finally her turn to badger her teaser of a friend. “But you’ve gotten better.”

To emphasize her point, without even thinking twice, she reached across the sticky booth table where his lower arm was resting and patted it. With the flinch of an eye, the skip of a heartbeat, Jake remembered what he’d spent the last couple of months repressing and forgetting. He plunged right back into the pool of memories, as if they’d never actually left his consciousness, and remembered just why being friends with Amy Santiago was ruining him even though he was pretending that it wasn’t.

On the outside, neither Rosa, Charles nor Amy could tell; on the inside, Jake’s heart was sucked into the deep and dark misery of the loveless underworld of his existence. There was so much vulnerability in realizing, feeling, just how easily, with the touch of her hand, she could drag him back in time. Back to a time, though short, when he reached the happiest point of his life in her arms. Now, like a hungry dog for a bone, he was back to yearning and pining.

In the meantime, Amy had retreated her hand because, of course, it meant nothing to her, and Jake was left feeling the cool and empty area where her cold skin had just rested on his. She’d always been cold - literally. Either he was going crazy or her hands were softer than normal. He had totally faded out of the ongoing conversation and by the time he zoned back in, his friends were laughing about something else. He played it off with a chuckle, only sounding half as awkward as he was feeling.

Geez, he really had to snap out of it. At least try to. The alternative would be making Amy feel weird and possibly compromising their relationship - again.

A few hours and a couple of beers later, even though he’d initially wanted to flee when Rosa did, Jake was the last person to stay in Amy’s company. It wasn’t that he wanted to flee from Amy; it was more of a ‘I want to flee from these emotions that Amy is stirring within me’-type of situation. Yet, he couldn’t get himself to vacate the booth, even when Rosa eyed him warningly as she put on her leather jacket and announced her exit.

“I’m out. You staying?”

Amy looked at her beer, still half full, then back at her raven-haired friend.

“Oh, uhm, I’m gonna stay and finish my beer.”

“Jake?” In a discreet attempt to, hopefully, prompt her friend to make the right decision and leave with her, Rosa cocked her left eyebrow. Their eyes met but Jake’s gaze was quick to escape, switching to Amy, then again back to Rosa, as if he were watching a tennis game and struggling to pick a player to root for.

“I- eh.”

He should leave, he thought. He really should. It was far from his business to sip on beers with Amy Santiago on a random work night - especially when Rosa was basically throwing an earnest way out at him. However, would he even be Jake Peralta if he didn’t constantly have his foot in his mouth and head in the clouds? Well, no, so with his eyes flicked back to Amy, whose cheeks were now tinted with pink self-consciousness, he made up his mind. The amount of rational thought that was put into his decision was embarrassingly small but alas his heart spoke faster than his head these days.

“I’ll stick around with Amy - make sure she doesn’t embarrass herself or something Santiago-like.” He tried to save it with a joke, but only got Rosa’s eye roll in return.

“Whatever.” Rosa zipped her coat. “Be careful.”

It was supposed to sound like a general comment but Jake couldn’t ignore the warning gaze his friend sent his way as she turned to walk away from them. No doubt he got the memo. And so that was how they ended up alone. Together. Alone together. In a silence that weighed just a bit too heavily.

The air around them was charged with confusing emotions, and suddenly, Jake wondered if he should make a run for the door. Not because he didn’t want to hang out with her - he really, genuinely enjoyed her company - but because, perhaps, he couldn’t handle a tête-à-tête with her just yet. Shit, he really wasn’t over her, was he?

Luckily, he wasn’t left alone with that thought for too long. The sound of Amy clearing her throat came off as louder than anything he’d ever heard before, and if his attention hadn’t already been directed at her then now it for sure was purely and utterly undivided.

“Thanks for staying.”

Amy broke the silence first, beating him to it, and taking into consideration Rosa’s departure’s toll on the ambiance, she suddenly seemed very unaffected and content with his stubborn decision to stay and friendly presence. Her eyes were lightly tired-looking, probably from the straining combination of an eight-hour shift and three beers-combo, but still, she looked at him with warmth and sympathetic air that reminded him of exactly why he’d always fight to keep her in his life; whether that be as friends, enemies or lovers. Whatever title worked the best for them, he could deal with.

“Of course,” fell from his lips with ease, whereas on the inside, he could feel the trembling caused by his heart and brain, head to head, in a fight about the woman sitting next to him. “No need to thank me.”

“I know…” she smiled weakly, fiddling with the red etiquette on her beer bottle that was half soaked from the condensation on the bottle.

It wasn’t awkward, per se, however, there was definitely something mismatched. Something seemed off, even though they’d been completely fine and hitting it off all night so far. It was hinting towards the fact that barricades went up as soon the last third party and buffer between them had left the group. Now that he was looking at her again, he started to realize that maybe the reason why he felt a certain distance between them was that he wasn’t being honest with her.

Could they be friends, the true and genuine kind they used to be back in the days if he didn’t tell her how he truly felt? Or, if he were to unveil his internal battle between his heart and mind, was he then just being selfish? Their relationship had already gone through so much… could it bear another challenge?

“Jake?”

Guess he never got the time to find an answer to his own question. Snapping out of his storm of thoughts, he was confronted by a confused-looking Amy.

He smiled, tilting his beer to clink with hers. “That’s what friends are for.”

To his own surprise, he said the f-word without flinching, and, maybe someday, he could fully commit to their title and not just the idea. For now, he could have feelings for her and still be her friend, right? At least her smile had him wishing for success. Whatever would keep that sunshine-like smile in his life.

“You’re right.” She nodded before prompting them to share a sip in silence, and like the cold, golden liquid slid down their throats, the flux of worries and tension between them slid away and off to a forgotten - or at least repressed - part of their narrative.

“As long as we don’t have to talk. Just drink,” he joked.

Amy recognized a very specific teasing glint in his eyes, one she’d only ever seen in his eyes, and it took her back. She could never put an exact number on the tally of times he’d hit her with lame jokes and comments, paired with those same mischievous eyes, to which she always reacted with a shake of the head and roll of the eyes. This time was no exception.

“Oh, yeah, totally. No way I’m talking to you. We’re drinking in silence. I’m just letting you stick around, so I don’t have to ride the bus alone.”

Two could play that game.

“You’ve been spending way too much time with Rosa. Also, no way I was going to let you ride the bus alone, like ever.”

She had meant it as a joke, at least she thought so, but the tingling in her toes and fluttering of her heart upon his caring comment seemed to call her bluff. No. It couldn’t be. She was with Teddy and very content with that. There was no way what she was feeling was more than harmless platonic feelings lost in a sea of a complicated history. It was surely normal that her body felt confused at times. Especially after a couple of drinks and a long day at work.

“I’m a grown woman, Jake. And a cop. I can take the bus by myself.” She grinned, shaking her head in disbelief of his generosity.

“Brooklyn murderers don’t care about that.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes once more.

“Don’t scoff at me, Santiago!” He acted offended, poking her in the side with his index finger. Her body immediately curved away from his advance, giggling in amusement and fear of what could potentially come next. If she remembered correctly, he knew just how ticklish she was. “I’m just trying to protect you from murderers!”

When the opportunity to give Jake Peralta a taste of his own jokester-medicine knocks Amy Santiago always opens the door.

“Oh, just like you protected me from Antonio Fenado back in 2009?”

As if she’d stolen his staple of a mischievous grin and applied it to her own face, Jake’s face instantly sinks into a cold deadpan and for just a second she actually panics - had she gone too far?

“Wow, Ames. Way to tell me that I’m still a sexist jerk,” he pouted, crossing his arms and it was clear as day that she had once again enrolled them in another playful skit. Of course, he couldn’t contain himself and had to get in on the play.

“I do what I can to keep you humble,” she grinned over the edge of her beer which she was about to take another sip of it, and, she could’ve sworn, Jake did a double take when she batted her eyelashes and placed her lips on the cold glass. Either that or she was being completely irrational, delusional, and, more importantly, inappropriate.

Ever since they came to the agreement of being friends, Jake had done nothing but respect her boundaries and wishes. Awkwardness, longing glances, and unfortunately honest signs of affection had entailed but day by day the cracks of their past seemed smaller, less meaningful in the bigger picture, and now months later they were finally in a good place. Honestly, she could still tell there was some longing on his part, however, his friendship was so genuine she couldn’t bring herself to blame him. Balance seemed mostly restored between the two. Perhaps, she thought to herself as cold beer glid down her throat, this was them in their truest form and whatever she felt… that was okay. This was how their friendship worked and it was… great .

“Watch your tongue. I’ve got a secret weapon, you know?”

“Oh yeah?” she scoffed.

“Yeah, really,” he smiled smugly before taking a sip of his beer, white foam coating his cupid's bow when he finally put it back down on the wooden surface.

Usually, she’d reach out a wipe it away from him but now that small action seemed a bit too loud and loaded for what was now a very platonic and innocent affinity between the two. Maybe she was just overthinking? There wasn’t anything wrong with simply reaching out, wiping it off… She could feel her fingers tingle and her arm fight her thoughts.

“Jake.”

“I’m not letting you off the hook that easy, Sant-”

“Shut up. You have foam on your lip,” she interrupted him but with an apologetic and warm smile still present on her face.

“Oh,” he didn’t know what he’d expected her to say or do. The abruptness definitely caught him off guard and something about this blunt, no-bullshit Amy intrigued him. Ever since they’d agreed to be just friends, tonight definitely felt like the first time they were back to their true selves and it filled him with a paradoxical mix of joy and gloom. Joy caused by the fact that they hadn’t lost themselves in the drama of everything; gloom caused by the fact that it hit him that they were indeed nothing more but friends and Amy was truly over him.

On the inside, he was fighting what felt like the fight of his life, and on the outside, he uttered an “Oh, thanks” as his thumb swept over his lips.

“No problem, Pineapples.”

“You…” he sighed, smiling and trying to keep the gloomy feeling at bay. He was trying to come up with something funny, Jake-like to say but failed, trailing off with a “..are something else.”

“Thanks,” she smiled proudly, not noticing his lack of ability to come up with a comeback, and downed the last few slurps of beer. “I’m just gonna head to the bathroom. Be right back.”

“Want another beer?” he asked as she walked away.

“Sure! Thanks,” she spun on her heels to look at him, and Jake could only fight the urge to fall all over again at the sight of her long, silky ponytail floating along. “Unless you’re tired and wanna go?”

Tired of hanging with you? Never, he thought to himself. “Me? Tired? Don’t you know me at all?”

“Idiot. See you at the bar.” She smiled and turned away once more.

So he took it upon himself to hit the bar and order them another round of cold beers to keep them company. Pushing himself out of their booth, Amy’s phone lying on the table caught his eye. She must’ve forgotten, he thought, a grabbed it to bring with him to the bar. The phone automatically lit up under his touch and across an adorable picture of - what Jake assumed was - three of Amy’s nieces (unless she secretly had kids) was a text from Teddy.

He hadn’t meant to see it and knew he had no business doing so. However, now that he was face to face with another man asking Amy Santiago when she would be home, followed by a kissy face-emoji, Jake really had to fight to ignore the gloominess inside of him growing stronger all while the lines between platonic and romantic love became increasingly blurred.

Fuck. He really tried to remember that he had her, right where he wanted her the most, and he fucked it up. It was his fault entirely that she was now with Teddy, someone who probably treated her just right, while he was bitter on the sideline. There was no way he could ever hold anything against her nor ask anything of her. No matter how much it killed him he just had to… get over her. As simple and as complicated as that.

While his wandering thoughts, a full-on battle between the brain and the heart, had his spirit scuttled and thrown around as by a tornado, he headed to the bar and ordered another round of beers. There was no way he was allowing his partner to see the true colors of his mood and if he was lucky the alcohol would help.

“You know what?” he got the bartender’s attention. “On top of that, I’ll have a shot of Kamikaze.”

“Just one?”

Amy’s phone buzzed on the counter next to him and the screen lit up with another notification from Teddy.

“Make that two.”

By the time Amy made it back to the bar, Jake was waiting with two beers on the bar and two shots in his stomach. Seeing her walk his way, her annoying, still and always perfect ponytail flailing behind her to the rhythm of her steps, Jake realized shots and beers weren’t going to solve his issues. He definitely felt lightly more buzzed… but more reasonable? Not at all.

“You tired, Peralta?”

She placed herself on the stool on his right.

“No way,” he chuckled, sliding her phone over to her. “Here. You forgot it when you went to the bathroom.”

“Oh, thanks!” she smiled, quickly checking it. Jake already knew what awaited her and was ready to die just a tiny bit more inside when she had to leave for Teddy’s place. “Teddy’s been texting-”

“Hi - excuse me?”

An unrecognizable voice interrupted them to which they reacted by both turning on their stool. Before them stood a woman, tall, big blue eyes and with wavy blonde hair that had her look like a Disney princess. Both Jake and Amy tried to place her but in vain.

“Hi?” Jake smiled awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m so sorry for interrupting! I’m Olivia. I’m here with my friends and I just…” the blonde halted and bit her lip, nervous as if she was about to admit to murdering someone. “We’re leaving but I couldn’t just go without telling you that I think you look super cute, and…”

Out of the corner of her eye, Amy could see smiling amicably at the nervous newcomer. A tiny part of her hated it. The rest of her loved that he was always so approachable and spontaneous around new people.

“I was just wondering if, like,” the blonde threw a glance and a smile in Amy’s direction before refocusing on Jale, “you two were together or if I could maybe… have your number?”

If they’d had time to look at each other both Jake and Amy would’ve seen that the other looked just as puzzled as they did themselves. Instead, all they could do was look at Olivia. She was beautiful, very much so, Amy thought to herself while picking her nails. No one knew how to react. Luckily, Olivia beat them both to it.

“Oh my gosh, you guys are together, right? I should’ve known from the way you guys talked and looked at each other! I’m so-”

“Hey, don’t worry!” Jake interrupted, sensing that the newcomer was panicking. “We’re… not, like, together.” Saying the words out loud seemed to physically hurt. Especially when just being told that the two of them seemed to look so in love and couple-y.

“No no, you’re totally fine.” Amy chuckled nervously, and as she spoke she could feel Jake turning his head to look at her. She looked back and what happened just then was in more than one way very much inexplicable; they shared a look that was neither sad nor happy. It was as if they were both trying to tell the other something but neither could figure out what.

“Oh, thank God!” Olivia took a deep breath of air before chuckling herself. “So, if you don’t mind me asking again… could I have your number or you have mine, and maybe we can grab a beer someday?”

Too frazzled to take notice, Olivia didn’t notice the exchange of glances between the pair before her.

Amy smiled shyly and Jake returned the favor. It was like an unspoken way of coming to terms with the way things were and had to be. They were not together. They were already together with or had to get together with new, other people. Not each other. Pain flashed through Jake’s entire body and he prayed it didn’t translate to his smile. In case it did, he looked away and back at Olivia.

“Sure.” He took out his phone, failing to notice how Amy followed his every move very closely. “What’s your number, Olivia?”

#lmao almost half a year after posting the previous chapter 🤡#anywayssss #peraltiago #jake x amy #jake and amy #fanfic #au #fanfiction #peralta #santiago #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99

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