Work Text:
“Jake! The new captain’s here!” Boyle calls through the door, bringing Jake and Amy back to reality. God, Jake could’ve just stared at Amy for hours. The look on her face when they pulled out of the kiss was the most beautiful expression she’s ever worn, her eyes full of hope and wonder.
But the moment was ending, and Jake glances down at Amy’s hands still resting on his chest and notices them gliding over the chain for his badge. His police badge.
God.
The realization hits Jake hard: they’re at work, stowed away in the evidence lock-up, doing exactly what they agreed not to yesterday. They couldn’t manage to keep things professional for twelve freaking hours. But Jake isn’t sure that he cares anymore, not when Amy is looking at him with vulnerable eyes and flushed cheeks. Not when he can still feel the ghost of her hands skimming through his hair. Not when he can remember exactly how it felt to slide his hands up her back, pulling her as close as he could.
But they pull away anyways and exchange looks of we’ll talk later, because the new captain is here and everyone’s probably waiting for them, and work has to come first. He loves his job, and he knows Amy does too, and if something is happening between them, it can’t get in the way of more important things. Still, he wishes they could’ve had a few more minutes to figure out exactly where they stand. Jake has never been entirely sure of where he stands with Amy, their relationship always teetering between good friends and something more, and he’s never pushed too hard to figure it out. But now that he kissed her and she kissed him back, and there was no way they could brush it off as colleagues working a case, the question of what are we? is burning him up inside.
He does his best to smother the flames as they push out of the evidence lock-up. His heart is a weird mixture of empty and full as he and Amy make their way to the bullpen together, and he shoots a glance at Holt’s now-empty office. His chest tightens as he thinks about how weird it’ll be to work without the Captain somewhere nearby, and how much he wishes Holt hadn’t left. Repression isn’t always easy when reminders are constantly staring at you in the face.
His gaze slides involuntarily to Amy, who’s standing close enough to just brush her arm against his, and he kind of wants to reach down and grab her hand. He doesn’t, though, because Charles is shoving Jake in front of him as the elevator dings and the new Captain steps out. She’s a tall Korean woman, and she’s already frowning so deep there are wrinkles on her forehead. Her hands are folded behind her back and her posture is as stiff as a board, and Jake finds himself holding his breath in anticipation.
“I’m Captain Rhee, and you must be my squad,” she says and the frown is replaced by a small smile. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you all.”
Terry steps forward, introducing himself, and volunteering to show Captain Rhee to her office like he did with Holt twenty-one and a half months ago. The two of them head to the back of the bullpen, and the detectives watch them go.
“Well that was underwhelming,” Jake says.
“Why, because she didn’t catch you immediately mocking her?” Rosa asks, trying to be light but just making everyone think about Holt’s sad meep morp before he left.
“We might as well get back to work,” Amy says after a beat of silence, and the four detectives all go back to their desks.
The second Jake sits down, he remembers what just happened with Amy in the evidence lock-up and suddenly the case file on his desk doesn’t look very interesting. But he tries so hard not to get distracted, even when Amy stretches her arms in a yawn or when she chews distractedly on the end of her pen. Not even when he looks up for the twentieth time and catches her looking right back at him. Usually, he would just look back down and continue on, but today they hold each other’s gazes for a couple seconds too long and they both feel their hearts start to beat just a little faster.
Twenty minutes later of practically no productivity and no new word from the captain, Jake stands up and whispers to Amy as he walks by, “We should talk. Now.”
So she follows him to the evidence lock-up again, because it’s the only semi-private place to talk and no one thinks twice about two cops going in there alone together.
“So, that happened,” Amy says when Jake shuts the door.
“Yup.”
“Maybe…” she starts, her voice low and a little sad. “Maybe it’s not the best idea right now.”
Jake feels his heart deflate but he nods slowly anyways. “Uh, yeah, if that’s what you think. Probably it’ll be easier that way.” He gestures to all the bagged evidence around him. “Y’know, not mixing work and personal stuff.”
“Right,” she says. She doesn’t realize she’s gravitating towards him, entering his personal space anyways. “It’s too risky.”
“Agreed.”
But somehow they end up kissing again two seconds later. Their mouths are crashing together, and this time Amy’s hands stay on Jake’s chest for the whole kiss, and she curls her hands around his shirt. She pulls him down to her height and he wraps his arms around her, practically engulfing her. This kiss is longer and deeper and even less professional than the last one, and it’s amazing, and they both wish they didn’t need to pull away to catch their breaths.
“That was just a goodbye kiss,” Amy blurts, her face still just an inch from Jake’s. He can feel her breath on his cheek. “You know, just because we won’t be doing that anymore. We got it out of our systems.”
“Yeah,” Jake agrees, but his eyes are on her lips as he says this. “Everything’s going to go back to normal now.”
So they (reluctantly) let go of each other and leave the evidence lock-up, but it isn’t any easier to get back to work after that. They manage to make it to lunch before they find themselves in the evidence lock-up again, this time Jake pressing Amy against the wall as they kiss hungrily.
“This is all super casual,” Jake says between breaths. “We can stop at any time.”
“Totally,” Amy says and bites her lip when Jake leans down to kiss her neck. She keeps her arms looped around his neck, her fingers digging into his hair and noticing how soft it is. “This means nothing.”
After a few minutes his mouth finds hers again, and they both stop trying to talk. His hands are always in motion, moving from her lower back to her shoulders and back down to her waist again, like he just can’t get enough of running his fingers over her. She loves it, but she doesn’t admit that to herself, not even when shivers race down her spine from his touch.
When they pull apart this time, Jake’s hair is disheveled and Amy’s shirt is a mess and both of their lips are swollen. It is very obvious that they have been kissing back here, and not working.
“I mean, the damage has already been done,” Amy says, surveying how Jake looks post-make out. She likes the colour in his cheeks, and the way his mouth is still slightly parted. She finds herself leaning a little closer. “We might as well just kiss for another minute or something.”
He smirks. “Good call.”
And they’re at it again.
Some unquantifiable amount of time later when they break apart again, it’s pretty damn hard to deny the obvious anymore.
“I don’t think I want to stop,” Amy says, and Jake pulls her a little closer to him.
“I don’t, either," he says, his voice quiet and his heart hammering.
“What does it mean?” she asks, and there’s a little bit of nervousness in her voice.
Jake holds Amy's gaze, refusing to look away so he can watch her expression carefully. “I guess that depends on whether or not you’re serious about this.”
Amy’s eyes flicker, and she asks quietly, “What about you? Are you taking this seriously?”
Jake pauses before answering, but he doesn’t need to. He knows his answer, and has known for a while. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I am.”
Amy smiles so genuinely that Jake’s heart swells. “Me, too.” This time when they lean back in to kiss again, it’s slow and patient and hopeful and there’s no more pretending that it means nothing. It means something, and they’re both ready to see where it leads.