Undercover_Superhero

Probably shouldn’t have been someone that was in a relationship in the first place. So when he splintered things between you two, you were almost sad that it didn’t happen sooner. 

“Do you think that makes me fucked up?” You ask Nick, lying on your back in the grass of your backyard. The sky is starting to turn a shade of soft pink as the sun goes down. 

Nick turns a little as he lies beside you, propping himself on his elbow. “What, that you’re happy?” 

You let out a long sigh through your nose, your eyes slipping closed when he threads some of his fingers through your hair as it splays out on the grass. 

“I’m not…happy, exactly. It’s just…” Your feelings are complex, complicated. 

You turn your head, glancing up at him. A gentle smile tugs the corners of your mouth as you look at the handsome features of his face. His eyes are slightly darker than usual, those golden curls in the front of his hair swaying gently in the breeze across the yard. You lift your hand to twist your fingers in a few, 

“I’m relieved, I guess, because I didn’t feel the same way about him anymore,” Or maybe you never did. “I didn’t want him to hurt, but…” 

“He had no business talking to you the way that he did,” Nick interrupts, his tone soft but dipped. Angry on the behalf of you. 

The break-up was bad, it wasn’t amicable, one gentle conversation about what the future might hold turned into a screaming match at a party. It was ugly, you might have said things you regretted, but Chris dug into insecurities and issues he’s had with your relationship but never voiced—instead letting it all build to this boiling point. When Nick found you seated outside on the steps in the aftermath, shaking, he nearly went to find Chris and have a word with him himself. 

The only thing that stopped him was that you were on the verge of a panic attack and he didn’t want to leave you. He knows about your history with guys you’ve dated in the past that were less than kind, that used their words and sometimes their hands as weapons, what shouting does to you, how it can paralyze you. 

Chris never understood that. Or maybe he just never cared.

A soft shrug to your shoulder, “You're not wrong.” 

Nick shakes his head, his thumb brushing the side of your head, touching your jawline. “I owe him a punch to his nose the next time I see him.” 

You can’t help but smile, even though you roll your eyes. “That’s unnecessary.”

“It’s just the right amount of necessary.”

A small hum of amusement leaves your lips and regardless that he doesn’t need to defend your honor, or anything that’s quite that protective, your chest blooms with warmth nonetheless. 

—

It’s funny how sometimes you can’t see things if they’re directly in front of your face. Not until you’re separated do you realize that Chris rarely made efforts to make you feel seen. It used to be something you didn’t let bother you, because it wasn’t like being with him was that bad, right? He was certainly better than past relationships that you’d been in. 

But maybe that was part of the problem—you were always comparing Chris to what you were used to and not what you actually deserved. 

You were never in love, you were just settling. 

—

Nick remembers a lot of things about you that your ex never bothered to. 

—

Your relationship with your family has always been such an odd pendulum swing for you, especially with your parent's divorce a few years ago. Back and forth, caught between precious memories that still bring soft smiles to your face and ugly realities that make your chest hurt. 

It's been a long time coming in figuring out where you stand with both your mom and dad. Sometimes people just work better apart. You get that. But, admittedly, it was also relatively painful when your dad moved away and started another life, made a new family. You've got a half-sister who's two and…while you love her, enjoy spending time with her when your dad visits, it's also difficult for you to look at her sometimes. Because she represents, in a way, sickening feelings that you weren't good enough to stick around for. That your dad chose to leave and start a clean slate, begin again. 

That your dad wasn't happy enough with you as a daughter; he had to create a whole other one. 

Now, you know that might be unfair to think. That it’s probably the farthest thing from the truth, and yet it sits like something ugly in your chest—a worry that you've only felt comfortable voicing to a few other people. 

Chris made you feel selfish, because of course your father's decisions had nothing to do with you. 

Nick made you feel validated, that two warring emotions could exist inside of you at the same time. That there was nothing wrong with it, with you. That you could love your little sister in the same universe of being jealous of the idea of her, of the new family your father has made. You suppose, maybe, he understands since his family situation isn't altogether perfect either. 

His assurance means everything. 

You glance up at Daisy as she plays with a few dolls on your bed, then back to your text message thread with Nick. You were supposed to go over to his house today, spend time in the pool, maybe mix some drinks. 

Y/N: my dad showed up unexpectedly, so now I'm on little sister duty 

You don't mean for it to come out that way, like it’s a burden, it's just…your dad has the awful tendency of just showing up unannounced. And admittedly it takes a little bit for you to emotionally prepare to see him? To talk to him like all of this is okay. That you are. 

Dots bubble on the screen, 

Nick: so bring her here. we can do the pool or play in the yard. i can make cookies. 

You shake your head, unsure how this man doesn't have a girlfriend. 

Y/N: I don't want to put all that on you 

Y/N: besides, I'm not in the best mood 

Nick: you don't scare me😉

Nick: and Daisy loves me 

Y/N: she's not old enough to make sound judgements yet 

Though a soft smile tugs the corners of your mouth. He's right, Daisy does love him. She's only met him a handful of times but she's completely mesmerized, clings to him like an octopus. You suppose you can't really blame her…you can certainly see the appeal. 

Nick: you can stop pretending you aren't on the same page as her at any time 

You stare at that message for a long moment, shaking your head but your smile gets a titch bigger. You're not going to deny that you're attracted to Nick. You certainly have eyes but…not only that? You know him, know what type of person he is, what kind of heart he has. How could you not be into him? But…that altogether feels far too complicated. 

Y/N: didn't realize your ego needed so much help today 

Y/N: do I need to call for an ambulance? 

Nick: get over here, I want to see you 

Nick: and bring my number one fan along with 

—

You bring Daisy over to Nick’s and she’s thrilled the moment she sees him, her face a bright grin and her body squirming to be put down. A soft laugh rumbles in your chest and you step inside, leaning down to put Daisy onto the tiled floor as he closes the front door. You straighten the little shorts and t-shirt she’s wearing, fixing one of her wayward sandals. You didn’t have a swimsuit for her to wear so you won’t be doing the pool, but you know she’s not going to care about that anyways. 

“Hey, Daiz.” Nick leans down quickly, a laugh leaving his lips when she propels herself forward, as if she expected him to catch her. He scoops her up into his arms, playfully tossing her up just a little so she giggles. 

“You know,” His gaze falls to yours, “You’re never this excited to see me.” 

“That’s because I know you.” You quirk back and Nick makes an offended gasp, his lips forming a perfect O. 

A teasing smile spreads across your face and you follow him back towards the kitchen. You tilt your head towards the oven because you can smell something baking and as Daisy babbles on about a Disney character on her shirt to Nick, you try and figure out what exactly he’s made. It’s not cookies but…

“Cupcakes,” Nick supplies, reading your thoughts. 

“Chocolate?”

He turns to look at you over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows, “As if I’d make you any other kind.” 

You smirk but his words flutter butterflies throughout your system from where they were perched on your ribs. It’s the simple things that he does sometimes that come across so thoughtful, meaningful. It takes someone special to spend their entire afternoon with a toddler and her slightly grumpy sister. 

When you get to the backyard, Nick has a few things set up for Daisy to play with. He’s made sure to corner off the pool, so she can’t accidentally fall in, but she’s able to run around with various toys. You raise your eyebrows, impressed with the selection—there’s everything from a small castle playset to dolls to a mini basketball hoop and soccer ball. 

“My dad had a few things in our attic that used to be Maddie’s.” He explains, smiling as Daisy goes for the basketball and tries to bounce it. It’s her size, so she’s able to recover a lot better than if it was a normal ball. She seems to know exactly what to do, waddling towards the hoop to put it in. 

You stick your hands into your pockets, “This is really sweet, Nick.” 

“This is purely selfish.” He replies, his gaze on you when you turn your head. You remember what his one text said, that he wanted to see you. And being able to bring your sister along was the only way it could happen. 

Before you can get too caught up in the veiled sentiment behind his words, or the fluttering sensation that happens again in your chest, Daisy calls your name to show you what she’s doing with the mini basketball hoop. 

For once, you’re grateful for the distraction. 

—

When the sun begins to dip below the clouds and the cupcakes have had a significant amount of time to cool, Nick brings over a chair that Daisy can stand on at the island counter. He puts an apron on her, which looks slightly silly given how long it is, but she loves it—her eyes bright and wide as Nick ties it gently around her waist. 

She’s totally geeking over putting icing on these cupcakes. 

“She’s going to make a mess,” You warn though your voice isn’t chastising. You know he grew up with a younger sibling, so he’s probably used to the whole ‘little sister’ routine in ways you’re just trying to learn. But you’re also worried that…something might happen in which Nick suddenly gets fed up with this whole idea of the two of you being over his house. Like he might regret wanting you here in the first place. 

His eyes glance over at you with a small shake of his head, “S’alright if she does, no big deal.” He grabs a smaller spatula, handing it over to her, “Besides, baking is sometimes messy.” 

A soft hum leaves your lips and you reach into the bowl near Nick’s elbow to steal a swipe of icing. You bring your finger to your mouth to taste the buttercream. Kind of criminal that he can make this so easily, but okay. 

“Alright so,” He picks up a cupcake and shows Daisy how to spread icing on it. Something that’s definitely not going to matter but you appreciate the attempt, “Just like that. What do you think?” He asks her. 

She grins, like this is the best thing she’s ever seen. Then, “More!” 

He laughs lightly, “Right—I was thinking the same thing.” 

You smile a little, leaning against the counter as you watch the process a handful of times. Nick puts icing on a cupcake, Daisy makes him add more, then she tries a few herself, getting icing more on her wrists and hands than on the actual cake top. But Nick doesn’t seem to mind and Daisy is having fun—she licks the icing off her hands and then bites into a cupcake almost before you can take the foil off for her. 

“How long is your dad staying?” Nick asks you after a few rounds, brushing some of Daisy’s hair back when it almost falls into her face and into a glob of icing. 

You shrug your one shoulder, trying your hand at one of the cupcakes too. You take a clump of icing with Nick’s abandoned spatula and spread a layer over the top. “I dunno, it’s taken me a long time to just accept that my dad kinda does whatever he wants, no rhyme or reason.” 

Even though you know that’s not exactly true. He’s made plenty of decisions with sound motivations…they’ve just never made any complete sense to you. Glancing up at Daisy, that sharp pang returns to your chest even though you’re giving her a soft smile over how happy she is. How you feel isn’t her fault and knowing that just makes it worse sometimes. 

You clear your throat, straightening your shoulders, “He probably won’t stay past the weekend. It’s usually just a handful of days.” 

He likes to get back to his new life, not wanting to disrupt too much of Daisy’s routine. You’ll probably have dinner all together tomorrow and he’ll head out after that, a whirlwind like a hurricane, as if he doesn’t leave things differently than when he showed up. He tried to ask if you’d like to do something just you and him but…you’re not sure you can handle that. Or even want it. And then you feel guilty about that or for saying you’re not interested when he attempts to invite you back to his new city, new home, new life—but how can you? You bite down on the inside of your bottom lip just to ignore that stinging sensation at the bridge of your nose. 

An uncomfortable silence stilts the kitchen, until, “You have something right…” Nick says, pulling you from your thoughts. He talks about your cheek by motioning to his own, his left cheekbone, “Right there.” 

You frown, touching your face. Your fingers skim the area but then his hand motions lower, “No, down a bit, keep going.” 

You huff, “Is it icing?” Though, what else could it possibly be? 

“Yeah,” Nick suddenly picks up the spatula and then taps it on your cheek, a grin spreading across his attractive face. “Right where I said.” 

Your head snaps back with a soft gasp even though it sounds more like a laugh leaving your lips, “You’re the worst.” 

“You’re giving me mixed signals by smiling.” 

“How’s this for mixed signals?” And then you take a cupcake and smoosh it icing side down onto his cheek. He looks more shocked than anything else that he didn’t see that coming, and suddenly you’re breaking out into a fit of giggles because—

He looks ridiculous. 

“I’m glad you think it’s funny.” He says calmly…before he bolts around the counter, too fast for you to move out of the way. Daisy squeals in laughter from her spot on the chair, clapping as Nick wraps his arms around you. 

He takes advantage of his proximity, nuzzling his face into your neck and successfully getting icing in your hair and on your skin. But you couldn’t care less, you’re too busy laughing, attempting to squirm out of his grip (but not struggling very hard at the same time). You try, and fail, to not to think about how easily your body slots against his own, the scent of his familiar cologne, the way you can feel his warm skin through his clothes, how solid he is along the panes of his chest—

He only stops when you back yourself up into the counter, his gaze finding yours, both of you breathing a little heavy. But you’re smiling…and you feel a lot better tonight than when your father showed up. Nick lifts his hand, swiping icing on your cheek with his thumb though you’re not sure if it’s to get it off or to make it worse. 

A small shiver courses down your spine at his touch, but if Nick notices, you can’t tell. 

“Think that’s the perfect amount of icing, to be honest.” You smile, motioning to the dollop that’s still on his cheek.

He rolls his eyes but he’s slow to remove his hand from your face. 

—

Much later, after all the icing and cupcakes are cleaned up in the kitchen, you sit with Nick on the couch while a Disney movie plays in the background. You’re shoulder to shoulder with him, Daisy taking the prime spot of laying on Nick’s chest. She was sitting in his lap a half hour ago, watching the film, but she slowly started turning herself around until she was tucked underneath his chin. 

You’ve offered to take her a few times but he’s declined, completely unbothered that your little sister is asleep against him. 

Your heart throbs behind your ribs, almost making the bones ache at the sight. He occasionally shifts, his hand rubbing up and down her back in absentminded motions. There’s a strange thought in your head, curling like a snake, that you wish that was you—that you were against his chest like that, that he was trailing his hand down your spine and maybe winding it into your hair. The thought is gone almost as soon as it appears, but it doesn’t stop the residual want from resting at the bottom of your ribcage. One of Nick’s love languages has always been touch and you’ve been on the receiving end plenty of times. 

And yet there’s something vastly intimate about this moment with him, domestic, tucked in close to his side on a day that was kind of crummy for you. 

You gently bump his shoulder as you lean closer, his head turning to look at you. Offering a small smile, your gaze falls on your sister before looking at his brown eyes, “Thank you,” You whisper, “For today.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s nothing, really.” 

But it is, it’s definitely something. It’s everything. 

Regardless, you press a kiss to his cheek. It’s quick and gentle and maybe it further blurs lines that lay between you two, but you can’t bother to think that way right now. Nick shifts in response, his one arm moving to curl around your shoulders to draw you in. While Daisy’s passed out on his left shoulder, you rest your head against his right and close your eyes too. 

—

You’ve never been the type of person to look a gift-horse in the mouth. You’re grateful when people get you things, because ultimately it’s the thought that counts. You’ve rarely returned things that you don’t want, even if the gift comes with a receipt, and your inner thoughts have always encouraged you to find a use for whatever you end up getting for a holiday or birthday. It also probably boils down to the fact that you don’t like confrontation, so you’ve never been one to bring up when something makes you uncomfortable. Even though you should. 

Even when your eyes are so itchy and your nose is congested far past allergy pills being able to save you. 

Jenna gets you this giant bouquet of pink and red roses for Galentine’s day—it’s a special company that interweaves tiny pearls and other gems onto the petals. It’s more art than anything else? And you know it was probably expensive. You…you don’t have the heart to tell her that you’re allergic when she hands them over—they’re beautiful and really thoughtful. It’ll be totally fine, you’ll just move them to a room in the house that you rarely go into, not having the heart to throw them away until they wilt. Even then, you might even consider pressing the petals?

But then Jenna lingers, talking to you about what Lion and her have planned for Valentine’s day and your breath hitches as a stifled sneeze sneaks out. 

“Oh, bless you.” She smiles, continuing to discuss her the rest of her night, what she got for Lion, asking if you think he’ll like it. 

You participate all you can, managing to hold off the worst of the reaction. For now. Jenna stands from the stool in the kitchen, getting ready to leave. You hear the front door open, Nick appearing from the hallway with a bag in his arm. You didn’t have plans but he sometimes just shows up like this, unannounced. You do the same with him, appearing in his bedroom, watching a movie, reorganizing the closet, reading a book, just spending time doing nothing together. 

This visit he has a pint of ice cream that you’ve been on the lookout for because it’s been sold out for the past week at the place you usually grab groceries. Double chocolate chip…you love dousing it in strawberry or chocolate syrup. 

Jenna smiles at him, “Valentine’s day plans?” 

“Whatever happened to hello, Jen?” He teases. 

You barely open your mouth to say something when another sneeze sneaks out, a double that bends you at the waist, arm quickly covering your face. You blink, gaze hazy. Fuck, there’s more coming. 

Jenna raises her eyebrows, “Jesus, bless you babe. You alright?”

You nod quickly, rubbing the bridge of your nose, unable to get any words out. But it seems like you won’t have to because Nick spots the bouquet on the counter. 

There’s a twinge of a smirk on his lips, his eyes flitting between the flowers and you, “She’s allergic to roses.” 

Jenna’s eyes go comically wide, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as she quickly reaches for the large vase that she brought to carry it out, “Oh my god, Y/N—why didn’t you say anything?” 

“They’re so pretty,” You sniffle, your voice slightly pinched. God, so tickly. You scrunch your nose, shaking your head, “I didn’t want you to think that I didn’t love them, I do.” 

Your whole face itches and barely distracts you from the fact that Nick remembers something that feels so minor that Chris didn't care about. You remember telling him the first time he bought roses for you—the gesture was lovely but your nose turned red, your throat became scratchy and you couldn't stop sneezing. 

And then, like clockwork, any time he got your flowers…they were roses. You're not sure if he just didn't remember or didn't care to. 

“I got it,” Nick tells Jenna, warm amusement around his syllables as he takes the vase from her and out of the room. 

You have no idea where he’s moving them but you’re not sure you care at the moment either. Normally you’d probably glare at the levity in his tone, that he’s taking the piss out of your suffering but… he’s doing you a favor right now. So glaring saved for later. 

“God, I’m so sorry,” Jenna laughs gently, grabbing a tissue from a nearby box to hand you. “I wasn’t thinking.” 

Turning to blow your nose, you groan lightly, tossing it in the trash. You wash your hands, reaching for an allergy tablet amongst your vitamins to swallow with water. Once you feel slightly more in control over your nose, you turn and give her a watery smile. Like literally, your eyes are watering. 

“It’s okay, I really didn’t want you to feel bad.” 

“I’m not the one having a fit.” She gives an empathetic smile. 

“It’ll pass, don’t worry.” You gently wave her off, Nick coming back into the kitchen rose-free. He leans against the counter, licking his lips as he takes the ice cream out of the brown paper bag. 

Jenna wraps you a squeezing hug, apologizing again even though she doesn’t have to and waves at Nick before heading out to prepare for her romantic night with Lion. You shake your head, sniffling, reaching for another tissue before giving him a look. 

“You didn’t have to tell her that.” A sharp hitch leaves your lips before you sneeze into the awaiting tissue. 

Nick smirks, “Oh yeah, I’m really the one that gave you away.” 

Groaning, you blow your nose again, reaching for another tissue. “Shut up.” 

Swallowing over the scratchiness of your throat, you rub your one temple as a gentle throbbing begins. Until the allergy pill kicks in, you’re sort of at the mercy of the lingering roses. When you close your eyes, you feel Nick step closer, brushing his fingers through your hair and curling some of it behind your ear. 

“So stubborn.” He teases. 

If either of you notice that you tip your chin slightly into his touch, no one says anything. You open your eyes after a few moments, looking over at him. Nick doesn’t remove his hand, a soft smile on his face as he teasingly taps the end of your red nose with his finger. 

“I didn’t realize you remembered the whole rose thing.” 

He shrugs his one shoulder, as if it’s not a big deal. “I remember a lot of things when it comes to you.” Nick pulls his hand away, moving in the kitchen to grab two bowls for the ice cream, “It’s what I’d do for anyone.” He clears his throat, as if what he said is somehow an afterthought. 

And maybe that’s true, but it means something to you nonetheless. 

—

It’s been a while since you’ve been to a party, so tonight you’re definitely looking to have a good time. 

In a black slip dress paired with cherry, chunky heels, your head tips back in a laugh as Jenna grabs your hand to spin you. You’re gathered close with a small circle of friends—Lion, Giles, Zach, Nick, and even Anna seems to be in a slightly good mood hanging around as well, but you don’t think that thought too loudly. When the song changes, everyone joins in for dancing. It’s a small group of movement, everyone subtly finding pairs even though the group is uneven. You notice for a brief moment that Anna turns to face Nick, but his eyes are on you, and his body follows suit. 

He reaches for you, his hand sliding around your waist and you can’t help but grin at him, in a good mood tonight as your palms rest on his shoulders. You mouth the words to the song and on the chorus, Nick playfully pulls you close and dips you low by bowing your back over his arm.

A bright laugh leaves your lips, your hair fluttering in your face as you lean back up. 

You’ve danced with Nick so many times but tonight for whatever reason, feels different. When songs change, when people lose interest and find other things to occupy their time, you find yourself pressed into Nick’s side as Jenna and Lion hang close. Lion is asking Nick about the boxing ring and when he might be interested in having another fight and his hand rests lazily on your hip like it’s meant to be there. 

A soft hum leaves your lips, your arm tucked into Nick’s chest, the side of your body cold when you eventually lean back from him. 

“I’m going to grab water,” You tell the group. 

There’s a small smile holding the edges of your mouth as you wander towards the kitchen, the scent of Nick’s cologne sticking to your skin, your clothes. It’s comforting and possessive in a way you cannot explain. That you don’t want to give words to. 

Leaning against the counter, you take a glass and fill it up, moving to get some ice from the freezer. Movement in the corner of your eye grabs your attention and you turn a little to see Chris coming in with an empty cup. There’s a haziness to his gaze, however, his eyes snagging on you in a way that speaks to how drunk he is. He’s always been someone to let himself loose at parties, you always had to be the designated driver. Which, you suppose there’s nothing wrong with that? Would have been nice to switch on and off occasionally. Anyways, you’re slightly buzzed yourself, but moreso rose-colored, just having a good time without overdoing it. 

You give him a soft, familiar smile, “Hi.” 

You know things…didn’t exactly end well? But you’ve never been the type to be rude, especially to someone who meant something to you. If Chris wants to ignore you or whatever, that’s his prerogative. 

He pauses, grabbing himself another beer to pour into his cup. His eyes give you a onceover, something appeasing in the way that he lingers, but then that turns sour with his comment. “You look happy.” 

You’re not sure why that comes out as such an insult but…you nod, bringing your water to your lips to have a few gulps. “I am.” And that’s not meant to be a dig, either, you’re just telling the truth. 

Tonight’s a good night. You’re having fun with your friends. You are happy. 

Chris purses his lips, “A lot happier than when we were together.” 

You swallow, gently shaking your head. You’re about to deny that but…you’re unsure how to tell him that it’s not that you weren’t happy with him? Sometimes you were. It’s just different now. “I was happy with you.” You don’t owe him anything and yet you still want him to know that? 

He scoffs, “Don’t lie to me.” 

“I’m not—”

At your words, a flip seems to switch in Chris’s expression. That lazy discontentment catches fire and he snaps out, “Just stop,” making you take a step back from him. 

You smooth a hand down your dress and you know you should just follow his advice, stop, go back to the living room to find your friends but…there’s something that heats beneath your skin at the tone of his voice. Like you and him were somehow in a ‘perfect’ relationship that was seemingly ruined because you weren’t happy. Like this is all your fault. 

That’s not how it was at all. In the beginning, when things were starting out, you were happy. It took you a while to realize that Chris, himself, wasn’t the cause of that. That you were just pleased to be in a relationship. Maybe that’s selfish, maybe that’s somewhat cruel, but it doesn’t make it any less true. You’re not about to tell him that, however. You’re not trying to hurt him. 

But as much as he won’t admit it, you don’t think he was happy either. 

Which is exactly what you end up saying. 

“How the fuck do you think you know anything about how I felt?” He asks, his voice raising. “Don’t act like you gave a shit about me. I was just a good fuck and a way to waste time.” 

That’s not true but you don’t even have the words to reply, they’re all stuck like molasses under your tongue. And it’s…it’s not exactly the stance of his body that bothers you. Even though he’s walking closer—he’s taller, so it’s like he’s towering over you, but that’s not what causes your hands to start shaking. It’s the fact that he’s screaming, the sound shattering against your eardrums, the tone unearthing past fears and concerns that you’ve done your best to deal with. Even over the music in the next room, his voice grates, digs underneath your skin. 

You’ve had exes that yelled. You’ve had exes that have put their hands on you. You’ve worked through a lot of that with help the best that you can…but the residual effects still linger. Maybe it’ll be something that’ll never leave. 

“What, nothing to say now?” Chris asks and you—you can’t even look at him. 

You take a step back, towards the living room, suddenly colliding with a firm, warm, chest. A hand snakes down your arm and squeezes, thumb brushing across your knuckles in an attempt to quell the trembling. You’d know his touch anywhere. 

“Stop yelling at her,” Nick warns, his body moving slightly to stand in front of you. “Now.” 

Chris scoffs and even though you’re not looking at him, you can tell he waves Nick off and backs up, taking his beer to leave the kitchen. You swallow over a lump in your throat, embarrassment kissing your cheeks with heat as you lean back against the counter. Even though you’ve got nothing to be ashamed over. You just…you hate that he’s caused such a visceral reaction in you and you hate that despite the breakup becoming ugly, you had some really good moments with Chris? Ones that you’re not willing to trade for the bad ones. 

Maybe that makes you foolish. Especially since any interaction with him is quickly erasing fleeting thoughts about caring for him. Not romantically but…like you would for anyone that you might have a complicated history with. Someone that might have been a friend. 

Nick turns to face you, tipping your chin up with his fingers. When he sees the spooked look in your eyes, a muscle feathers in his jaw. “I meant what I said about punching him in the nose.” 

You shake your head, the bridge of your nose stinging as you fight your eyes filling with tears. It’s just because you’re coming down from the adrenaline, nothing more. At least that’s what you tell yourself, 

“I’m fine,” You let out a breath that dislodges a tear and Nick catches it with his thumb. You sniffle, “It’s just the—” 

“I know,” He replies, voice much gentler than before, “Screaming is a pressure point for you.” 

A laugh startles out of your chest, more tears slipping down your cheeks. You bring up a hand to wipe them away, “Of course you know, I only had to tell you once for you to remember.” 

You shake your head, biting down on the inside of your cheek hard enough to bleed. Chris has always known how triggering raised voices have been for you, you shared that vulnerability with him when you first started dating, and yet…and yet what? He doesn’t care? Perhaps he only pretended to. The thought alone reaches directly into your chest and squeezes. You don’t miss your ex, you don’t want him back, but you’re not going to deny that it hurts when you learn someone doesn’t give a shit about you. 

That maybe he never did. 

Nick’s entire body seems to bristle at seeing you cry, “I’m going to go find him.” 

“No,” Your hand quickly grabs onto his arm, preventing him from moving. He could easily pull away from you, but he doesn’t. “Don’t.” You lick your lips, straightening your shoulders, “He’s not worth it.” 

“Breaking his nose would be worth it.” He volleys back. 

“I don’t want you to leave.” 

Nick watches you for a few moments, his demeanor softening in response. His hand moves to rest along your neck, his thumb drawing circles around your pulse point, “What can I do?” 

You want to tell him that he’s already doing it, just by being here, by being present, by knowing you. But instead, you lean forward until his arms wrap around you, drawing you into his chest. Hiding your face in his shoulder, you breathe him in, your hands gathering his shirt on his back. You memorize the feeling of his breathing against your own, the way his lips press a kiss to your temple, his hand a soothing pattern along your spine. 

You stay like that for a long while and Nick doesn’t move until you’re ready. 

—

Wrapping your sweater a bit tighter around yourself, you step closer to the bonfire that has flames licking towards the night sky. You tip your head back, drawing in a deep breath, looking at the spackling of star constellations. Like a painter has flicked twinkling silver and white across a black canvas. 

It’s beautiful, the perfect night for this. You can’t remember the last time you went to a bonfire, just lazily hanging out with a large group of people, music playing somewhere in the background, a bit too much drinking. You’ve got your hands wrapped around mulled wine, the spiciness resting headily on your tongue. You’ve got zero plans on getting drunk tonight, but Jenna is definitely buzzed, having a great time as she leans on Lion and talks about an upcoming beach trip she wants to plan. Nick smiles a little at her beside the fire, dressed in a pair of dark jeans, a plain black t-shirt and his leather jacket. It’s unfair how attractive he is in something so simple. The fire kisses the warm brown of his eyes and the gold in his curls. You have to tear your gaze away to focus on your friend.

“Feel like it’s needed,” She announces, “Spring and summer are just too far away.” She shudders as if to make a point. 

A soft smirk pulls at your lips as you have another sip of your wine. Admittedly, you’ve always been fond of cold, rainy weather. You love the snow. Definitely the polar opposite of Jenna, so you’re not looking forward to the heat and humidity. There’s a gentle breeze rustling the trees tonight but nothing that disrupts the bonfire too much. 

When you walk off to get another scoop of heated wine, Jenna follows along to grab some water so she can mellow herself out. But you’re glad she’s having fun, there’s always something endearing about her being drunk. Like she turns into an even brighter version of herself. You lean over and wrap your arm around her shoulders, planting a playful kiss on her cheek. 

She laughs, having a sip of her water. 

“So Valentine’s day was good?” You ask her, knowing she had extensive plans with Lion but, you didn’t hear anything bad happening—so you can assume it went well. But you want to know specifics, anyways, if she’s willing to give them. 

“Lion is so romantic,” She hums, “Way more than my other relationships—sometimes it takes me by surprise. In, like, the best way, you know?” You nod, giving her a small smile. Then she leans forward, almost conspiratorially. “And when I’m telling you that he can do wonders with his tongue?” She raises her eyebrows and you let out a sharp laugh, stepping closer. 

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are.” 

Though you don’t think she cares. She grins at you, chewing on her lower lip, “Babe, I’m talking multiple orgasms from his mouth alone.” 

You shake your head but you’re still smiling. Good for her. Honestly? You’re sort of jealous—you would know fuck all about that because Chris never reciprocated. And maybe it’s your own fault for a variety of reasons…you should have known better than to fool around like that if he was never willing to do the same. It’s like all of a sudden you can see just how red those flags were now with a bit of distance. 

“I wouldn’t know,” You muse, “Chris would never go down on me.” 

She blinks at you, her nose crinkling in distaste, “Never?” 

You shake your head, “I have yet to know what it’s like to have orgasm like that.” 

Jenna opens her mouth to reply but then her eyes flick over your shoulder and…you know who it is without even turning around. Fuck. You have no idea whether Nick’s overheard the end of this conversation. You’re not sure how you’d feel about that if he did. On the one hand, you and Nick have been friends for so long that you’ve talked about everything, there’s always been a comfortableness there. You’ve chatted about sex before, not between one another, but with random relationships you’ve been in throughout your friendship. 

On the other hand, however, things…feel electrically charged between you two lately in a way that you can’t fully explain. Like there’s static connecting his body to yours, a heat, an energy that you’re not sure if it’s always been there or if it’s suddenly appeared since the breakup with Chris. 

Maybe you know but you’re too afraid to say. 

Turning to look at him, Nick gives no indication whether he’s heard you or not, a soft smile pulling the corners of his mouth, “Did you want to get going? You told me to remind you when it was midnight.” 

A soft groan leaves your lips before you nod. Your mother’s new curfew of 12:30 is really putting a damper on nights like these. You hand over the rest of your mulled wine to Jenna, hugging her tightly and making sure she finds Lion before leaving. Nick stretches his hand back to grab yours to guide you through the dark parts of the woods that lead to where the cars are parked. The moon is big and bright, giving a bit of a soft glow to the trees. 

“Pretty sure I saw a horror movie start like this.” You mumble and Nick looks over his shoulder at you, a soft chuckle vibrating his chest. 

“Only you would think that.” 

“Anyone who has a self-preservation instinct would think that.” 

Nick smiles softly, starting his car with his keys. He tugs the door open to the passenger seat, reaching inside to turn the heat on. He then turns to look at you, grabbing your hand again and encouraging you to sit but his legs are in the way of pulling your own where they belong. When you look up at him, your stomach flutters in something that feels a lot like heated anticipation, though you’re not sure why. 

You try to blame it on the fullness of Nick’s lips, the way the moon’s incandesce is highlighting the sharpness of his features. The way he’s looking down at you, like he wants to say something but isn’t sure he should. 

“Did you mean what you said?” 

You already know what he’s asking, your throat suddenly dry, “What?” 

“About Chris.” 

Fuck. You clear your throat, shrugging your one shoulder, “About…” You wonder if you should skirt around this topic or maybe play dumb, make him say it. But if he’s bold enough to bring it up then you should be too. You jut your chin up a little, “About him not wanting to go down on me? Yeah. Why?” 

He’s quiet a moment, “Seems unfair for you to never have experienced that.” 

A slow breath leaves your lips, your heart pounding at the pulse in your throat. You try to defuse the tension filling the air right now with a soft laugh, “There’s no need to rub it in.” 

“I’m not rubbing it in,” Nick slowly crouches in front of you, his one hand resting on the seat to balance himself, “I’m asking if you’d like that to change.” 

Fuck. 

You stare at him for a long moment, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for him to crack a smile and tell you he’s messing with you. He has to be teasing, right? But that moment never comes. He’s patient, his thumb moving to brush against the side of your thigh and holy fuck, is he really asking—

Look, you’re not saying that the idea of Nick’s head in-between your legs doesn’t send a sharp wave of arousal pulsing into your veins, it does, but…things feel wildly complicated between you two lately. The last thing you’d want is to somehow mess up your friendship with him just to fool around. You can’t lose him. It’d crush you. 

He must be able to read that worry plainly on your face, “It can mean something unless you don’t want it to.” 

And he’s giving you an out, to either say no completely or…to just have fun with no strings attached, to just go back to who you normally are the next day. Or for a very pointed shift in a different direction. You trust Nick, you know that whatever you choose, he’d support and respect it—and somehow that only bolsters your confidence. 

You draw in a shaky breath, not from nerves, but because you know exactly what you want to do…it’s just finding the courage to do it. Cupping his cheek, you run your thumb along the bone, dipping the pad until it plucks his lower lip. He presses a kiss there, a darkness swirling in his eyes that assures you he’s just as turned on by this idea as you are. 

Fuck it. 

You give him a soft nod and Nick leans back on his heels, his hands moving to unbutton your jeans and brush your sweater out of the way. When the zipper comes down, his fingers linger underneath the elastic of your underwear, waiting until your gaze meets his own. 

“We can stop at any point.” 

You definitely don’t think you’re going to want him to stop, but the sentiment being there means something all the same. 

When there’s no protests from you, he pulls down your jeans and underwear to your ankles. He then wraps his arms around your waist, 

“Scooch forward,” He says gently, drawing you into him. There’s a slight height difference given that he’s kneeling on the ground and you’re seated on the passenger seat and when you look down at him, your mouth grazes his. 

A stuttered breath leaves your lips and Nick nips at your lower one with his own. It’s all the encouragement you need to kiss him. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, his hands on your waist. When you lick your tongue into his mouth, it draws out a greedy moan from him, his fingers digging into your skin. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss and it’s somehow everything you thought it would be and so much more. 

Like something is finally clicking into place. 

If this is how good it feels to kiss him, you can’t imagine how it’s going to be to have his mouth against where you’re most sensitive. You can feel your heartbeat in your clit, your fingers squeezing together with the urge to reach down and pleasure yourself. Your hips roll forward and Nick smiles against your mouth, pulling back after a moment. 

“Lean back as far as you can.” 

It’s not exactly the most comfortable position, the divider is in the way, but you make it work, your legs spreading to accommodate his body. A brief thought skitters through your head about getting caught but the passenger door is facing away from the bonfire, woods and darkness behind Nick. That concern is gone as soon as he sinks down, pressing a series of teasing kisses along the inside of your thigh—up, up, up—

A moan that you should probably be embarrassed by leaves your throat as you tilt your head back, Nick’s tongue circling your clit. He builds you up sweetly—just enough pressure, just enough movement, just enough attention where you need it to make a thin sheen of sweat kiss your body. You did not expect to barrel towards the edge so fast, but the moment he begins to press his tongue inside of you, in and out, his thumb brushing over your clit, you just about lose it. 

A strangled gasp crawls out of your throat, your hand fisting his curls, a groan leaving his throat when you tug. You picture him hard, think you can feel his hips shift forward every so often, the idea that he’s turned on with his mouth on you makes your orgasm approach that much faster. You want to hold on, draw this out, because you can’t remember the last time you felt pleasure like this—like a raw, nerve ending, sparks igniting underneath your skin. You practically forget your damn name when his tongue returns to your clit, his fingers now sliding in and out of you. One, then two, building and adding to the pressure when he curls them. 

On your next intake of breath, your body rolls into cumming, Nick’s name leaving your lips over and over again. You’re pretty sure that the stars you saw earlier at the bonfire explode behind your eyes. You gently push him back a little when strong waves of sensitivity make your knees shake and he presses a few kisses to the inside of your thighs before fully leaning back. It takes everything in you not to grab at him, pushing yourself up to sit and angling yourself down to kiss him. 

A soft moan empties into his mouth when you taste yourself on his tongue, his hands soothing his thumbs along your sides. Your foreheads rest together when the kiss ends, your pulse slowly returning to normal. 

Nick lifts one of his hands, pushing your hair over your shoulder. “I’m gonna clean you up.” 

You nod, gaze hazy in post-orgasm bliss, barely feeling him find a tissue to do what he told you. He then helps your jeans on, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth as he cups your cheek, thumb caressing over the bone. 

“Good?” He asks softly, as if the sounds that left your mouth weren’t enough proof. 

You smile, nodding, kissing his cheek. His words flutter back from before, It can mean something unless you don’t want it to. 

“I want it to mean something.” You whisper back. 

Nick nods, holding your gaze for a long moment. “Me too.” And brushes a kiss along your forehead before helping your legs into the car, closing the door to drive you home. 

—

Squirming in excitement in the passenger seat of Nick’s red McLaren, you pout at him across the divide, “You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” 

There’s bright amusement in Nick’s eyes as he drives, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other finds your bouncing knee and squeezes. “You really don’t get the whole idea of something being a surprise, do you?” 

You grin, cheeky, “What if I beg?” 

His gaze flutters to yours, a soft smirk to his handsome mouth, his eyes trailing over your form before quickly focusing back on the road, “No…but nice try, you almost had me.” 

When the pout slips back onto your face, a laugh comes from Nick, another squeeze to your knee before your hand finds his to lace your fingers together. His thumb traces back and forth over your knuckles. 

“We’re almost there, you’ll know when you see it.” 

You raise your eyebrows, satisfied with that, turning your head to look out the window. Honestly, even if Nick had told you where you were headed tonight, you think you’d be just as excited as you feel now. After the bonfire, both of you kinda walked backwards from where you were at—a date, a real date. As something more than best friends. 

When the car makes a turn, you realize that Nick’s right—you know where you’re going, an emotion getting stuck in your throat as he pulls up alongside the SEA LIFE London aquarium. You stare at the building a long moment, unsure if you can speak, your hand resting on your sternum because you’re so overwhelmed in the best way. 

You love the aquarium, have always loved it—something about being inside one makes you feel connected to any of the sea life that you see. And you can’t remember the last time you’ve been to one. Living in London this whole time, you’ve never been here. 

Chris never wanted to go with you, he thought aquariums were boring. Too much walking, too much to read about all the aquatic life, not enough ‘excitement’ to keep him entertained. 

Nick watches you for a few moments, his head tilting down to capture your gaze, “You okay?” He asks softly. 

Drawing in a breath, you nod quickly, smiling despite the fact that you feel like crying, “Yeah, I’m just really happy.” You lift his hand to kiss the back of it, “Isn’t it closed?” 

He hums a little, pulling into a parking spot before turning the engine off, “Not if you know someone who owes you a favor.” 

So not only are you going to the aquarium, you’re going in after hours—the whole place is yours. Getting out of the car, you smooth your hands along a simple black dress paired with high-top sneakers. Nick told you to dress comfortably and you definitely took advantage of that. You look up at the building as you round to the driver’s door. 

You hate that a particular self-conscious thought worms its way to the forefront of your brain, “You’re not…you’re not worried you’ll be bored?” This date is basically for you, not quite something Nick might be interested in. 

His eyebrows draw together, reaching for your hand to lace your fingers again, “How could I be bored?” He asks, “I’m going to be with you.” 

That same tightness in your chest returns but this time it’s for a completely different reason, a slow smile spreading across your face at the warm way Nick’s voice wraps around those words. You don’t even want to tease him that it’s a little corny because the sentiment hits so deeply, right where you need it, repairing a small piece of you that you didn’t realize needed to be healed. 

Attempting to ignore the way your eyes fill with moisture and a warmth blooming behind the tightness in your ribs, you take a few steps forward and kiss him, drawing him close by tugging on his hand. Nick melts into you, his arm moving to wrap around your waist while the other drops your hand so he can cup your cheek. 

This is already the best date you’ve ever been on. 

—

There is so much to see here that at one point that observation feels like an understatement. You grab a map, even though the layout of the aquarium leads you from one discovery to the next—you want to use it as navigation but also have a small piece of tonight to put on your bulletin board above your desk at home. Your eyes are wide and bright as you take everything in, excitement causing a buzzing sensation under your skin when you pull Nick through exhibits, absorbing everything that you can. It's difficult to slow yourself down, you're so in love with every tank you come across. 

You linger the longest in the Ocean Tunnel, the Rainforest Adventure, and Rockpool Discovery, but something that catches your attention the most is Ocean Invaders, where the jellyfish are. They've always been one of your favorite animals and you feel like you can't quite get your face close enough to the glass to see all of them. There are over 350 different species of jellyfish—your eyes drinking in Moon, Upside Down and Japanese Sea Nettle. They're so pretty to look at, so graceful as they glide through the water, yet they're almost like little aliens—they have a nerve network but no brains or hearts. 

Turning your head to talk to Nick, you realize he's watching your reaction to things moreso than looking at what's in the tanks. A flush kisses your cheeks and works down the back of your neck. You almost want to ask if he's having a good time but he seems perfectly pleased to have his gaze focused on you. 

Curling your hair around your ear, you motion to the jellyfish in front of you, "Did you know that a group of jellyfish are known as a 'bloom' or a 'smack'?" 

He chuckles, his eyes shifting to where the jellies are moving. "I didn't." 

The blueish glow reflects so pretty against Nick's face, highlighting his features and somehow making him even more handsome than he already is, which shouldn't be possible. 

"They're older than some ancient reptiles. Like they could have been around 500 million years ago, which is older than dinosaurs." You gently touch the glass in the corner, watching as some moon jellyfish glow when they slide past you. 

“I didn’t know that either.” He admits. 

You smile a little, your voice teasing, “Well tell me something you do know.” You turn a little to face him, raising your eyebrows expectantly. 

Nick purses his lips, holding your gaze for a moment before he brushes some hair out of your face. “You seem happy.” 

You remember a conversation on the grass after the breakup with Chris that somehow feels so long ago even though you’re not sure that it was. You might have been relieved that your relationship was over but…it didn’t seem like happiness then, too complicated and complex for that to be the emotion you were feeling. And you’re not saying those sensitivities, those scars, that Chris left behind are completely gone…

But you think they’re getting better by being with someone who truly knows you, in those moments in which everything seems to slow down, like you and Nick are the only things in motion. 

Like right now. 

You draw in a soft breath, taking a step towards him to wrap your arms around his shoulders, resting them there. Your fingers play with the hair along the nape of his neck, tipping your chin up so that your nose brushes against his, 

“I am happy.” You reply with a warm smile that encourages one of his own. It’s shared like a secret, something precious, and you lean up a little on your toes to kiss him. Right in front of the Moon jellyfish. 

—

When you join Nick at the car after using the bathroom, he produces a small stuffed animal that he got for you at the gift shop from behind his back. It’s a jellyfish. You kiss him again, can’t seem to stop, the momentum of it forcing him to take a step back until he bumps into the McLaren. 

“I’m guessing you like it.” Nick chuckles against your mouth, his hand resting along the side of your neck. 

You hold onto it tightly, practically hugging it to your chest. “I love it. I’m naming it Bertha.” 

Nick scoffs out an offended sound, “You are not.” 

You grin, pulling back so you can get into the passenger seat, Nick closing the door for you before joining on the other side. He slides his seatbelt into place, making sure the heat is on low. 

You hold the jellyfish on your lap, gliding your fingers along the tentacles. “What about Moon?” 

You already know it’s a good pick even before Nick reaches over to plant a kiss to your cheek and then pulls out of the parking space. 

—

You’re not saying that you have this whole relationship thing figured out. But what you’ve learned? You deserved better, to be with someone that doesn’t make you feel like you’re settling. Someone who actually understands how to make you happy. And Nick knows that, because he proves to you that’s true every single day. 

—

You knew this migraine was coming a mile away, a soft pounding in your ears before moving towards your temples, something sharp pinching behind your eyes. You managed to take something for it, but it doesn’t help as much as you want it to. 

Wandering towards your bedroom on shaky knees, you manage to stave off the worst of it before you’re able to crawl into bed. Phone on your nightstand, face down, yanking your curtains closed and hauling yourself onto the mattress to push your face into your pillows, you wade out the worst. 

It’s not as bad as it has been in the past but it’s still rather awful, like waves of concrete blocks slamming into the back of your head, tossing debris towards your ears and the bones of your jawline and cheeks. You let a slow breath, running your hand over your face, pinching the bridge of your nose. You focus on taking deep breaths, trying not to get sick. Sometimes nausea bursts through unexpectedly and it’s difficult to keep things down, or to even move to get to the bathroom. 

You’ve only had a few terrible migraines in the past, usually brought on by stress, in this case it just came out of nowhere, your body deciding to rebel for no good reason. You grit your teeth and squeeze your eyes closed. 

At some point you must drift asleep, because then you hear your door quietly opening and closing. You don’t move, even when you feel Nick carefully lay himself onto your bed next to you. He doesn’t touch you for a moment, the smell of his cologne and laundry detergent comforting in a way you can’t describe in words. You shift, swallowing, turning your head to look at him. 

You can barely make out the outline of his form in the dark room but you’re touched that he’s here? He didn’t need to come, especially since you conveyed through your texts that you felt pretty miserable to be around. He clearly put two and two together when he knew you had a headache and then stopped replying to messages. 

“Hey,” He whispers. 

You chew on the inside of your cheek, slowly inching towards him to close any space. You’re not able to talk right now, but you want him to know it’s okay he’s here. That you’re grateful he is. You press your forehead against his shoulder, wincing at what feels like lightning setting your nerves frayed. 

For the first time in a long while, you're not thinking about your ex and how poorly he's handled some of your past migraines. Your thoughts don't linger on Chris at all—instead, they focus entirely on Nick, how he's here. He presses a long kiss to your temple, shifting so that he’s lying on his back and pulling you into his side. You settle against him, your hand resting on his chest, his heartbeat under your fingertips. 

“Were you able to take something?” He asks, his voice just as soft as before. You know what he’s asking—were you able to swallow anything resembling pain meds before it got really bad? 

You nod, Nick’s arm shifting so that it’s no longer just resting on your back. His hand rubs up and down your spine, fingers finding your neck and massaging the tense muscles there, “Can I get you anything?” 

Your fingers gently fist the material of his shirt, a strong indicator than you’re fine with him staying right here. You lift your head a little so that it’s resting more on his shoulder than before. You don’t open your eyes but you manage to say, 

“It’s not as bad as it was a little while ago, just need to ride it out.” 

It’s quiet for a length of time, Nick holding you against him, his fingers and thumb rolling along your neck and temple, offering you what little comfort he can until the worst of it fades away. Once it does, you lean back a little, running a hand over your face, rubbing your eyes before focusing on him. 

It’s still dark, you don’t want a light on, but lean forward to brush your lips against his. You want to thank him, but say instead, “You always know how to make me feel better.” 

You can feel Nick smile more than see it, “You’re easy to be with.” 

Not ‘easy to please’ but rather ‘be with’, which brings a whole new meaning that flutters warmly in your chest, “Even like this? An absolute mess?” 

He hums in amusement, pressing a kiss to the bridge of your nose. “Even like this.” 

He reaches for Moon off your pillow, setting the jellyfish near your hip. The air is thoughtful around him, “Did you know that Turritopsis dohrnii are able to revert to an earlier stage in its life cycle when threatened or damaged? That's why they're known as 'immortal jellyfish'.” 

You blink, tilting your chin up in the direction of his face. The Immortal jellyfish feels like it hits close to home—the fact that they essentially begin again, start from scratch, try all over again.

“Finally something I didn’t know.” You smile to yourself, tucking that knowledge away with all your other jellyfish facts.