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writingonleaves · 8 days ago

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not much, but it said enough / nico hischier

small talk, he drives coffee at midnight.

/ or, the one where you and nico take a weekend road trip.

word count: 8.3K pairing: nico hischier x fem!reader warnings: just fluff with some implied fade to black smut. mild language. friends to lovers. everyone knows but them.

a/n: apparently i post a nico fic on shea's birthday every year. i couldn't dare break that tradition (it's still your birthday in my timezone, so this counts.) this is a short fic and it's just fluff with a bunch of inside jokes for the rats, but you can enjoy it too. happy birthday @sleepretreat — even though you're currently on hiatus as you gallivant through the mountains, so you probably won't even see this today. cringe.

part one, you can hear it in the silence

This was all Luke Hughes' fault.

Or, maybe it was a combination of both of the younger Hughes brothers that you could blame your current misfortune on. Regardless of who was actually at fault, the moment you next saw either Jack or Luke, they would be getting an earful from you.

Because this was your only long weekend that you had off from work all summer, and you had been looking forward to spending the time alternating between reading a book on your balcony as you baked under the July sun, and becoming one with your couch as you binge-watched the entirety of Peaky Blinders for the 50th time.

All of these plans were supposed to take place at your apartment in New York. Except for maybe the odd trip over the bridge to Jack and Luke's place, they had left you a key in case of emergencies, because their balcony was bigger and had a better view for people-watching.

Luke knew those were your weekend plans because you had been talking about them for weeks. Every time he had invited you to join the annual Hughes brothers Fourth of July bash, you had politely declined, insisting you were already fully booked for the weekend.

The last thing you wanted to do was spend half your time off in a car, driving all the way up to the Hughes lakehouse back in Michigan.

Until you got the frantic call from Luke a few nights ago, about realizing he forgot to pack the Hughes-a-palooza trophy to bring home for the summer. It was a ridiculous trophy that Quinn had made a few summers ago, to take their weekend beer Olympics to the next level with an official prize.

And the brothers took this very seriously.

Luke had won last year, his first year, finally securing the champion title. He had been so proud of the victory that he had obviously taken the trophy with him to New Jersey for the season, displaying it like a centerpiece on their coffee table. With the oversized and garish trophy residing in the middle of their living room, you had no idea how Luke had possibly overlooked the trophy and forgotten to pack it.

But alas, it was two nights before this year's beer Olympics were about to kick off, and Luke was calling you mid-panic attack, about how there was no way they could do the tournament this year without it.

Talking Luke down off the ledge had somehow resulted in you agreeing to pick up the trophy and drive it to the lakehouse for the weekend.

You were annoyed and had been reluctant to agree to the weekend plans, but Luke was one of your best friends, and hearing him so distressed pulled at your heartstrings enough to have you cave in quickly. It wasn't exactly what you had been hoping your weekend would consist of, but the Hughes brothers did know how to throw a party, and you knew you would actually have fun.

Plus, their house was on the most beautiful private lake, so when Jack inevitably started to get on your nerves, you could retreat to the dock and still enjoy your original plans of soaking up some sun with a good book.

It was also an excuse to drive your new car, something living in New York City didn't provide many opportunities for, as it was usually faster to walk or take the subway wherever you needed to go. You had been excited about the big purchase, finally upgrading your car for the first time in your life, rather than the hand-me-downs you had been driving since you first got your license as a teenager.

The best part of your new car? Apple CarPlay.

You no longer had to rely on aux chords or USB cables to connect your phone, now able to wirelessly play all your favourite playlists—and it would even read out your texts to you. That always got a giggle out of you when your car would try to read out emojis included in messages.

You had discovered this with Luke when you had changed his name in your phone to include a moose emoji. Often, he'd text you while in the car with you, just to hear the message, and it's included emojis, out loud. You'd roll your eyes when he did it, telling him it was childish, but you'd never admit it gave you a good laugh every time, too. And you looked forward to the string of unhinged emojis Luke now included at the end of every text he sent—just in case you were in the car when you got it.

Your excitement for the weekend road trip ended abruptly the night before, when Jack called you for a favour, too.

You should have known it was going to be bad news when Jack's name popped up on your phone.

It was a summer miracle because his captain, Nico, who usually spent his entire summers back home in Switzerland, had some press obligations with the NHL in New York City next week, and after some pressure from the Hughes brothers, had agreed to fly in early to join them for their weekend at the lake. Because Nico didn't spend his summers in New Jersey, his car had already been put into storage at the dealership for the summer, and he'd have to tag along with you for the nearly nine-hour drive from Jersey City to Michigan.

Of all the things to plan and dread about this weekend, you hadn't even considered Nico as being part of this equation.

But you couldn't say no, because you had already told Luke you'd be driving up with the trophy, and apparently Jack had already told Nico you'd be picking him up. If you backed out now, you'd have to explain why to all of them. And you weren't exactly sure how to put it into words that the idea of being alone in a car with Nico for that long made you nauseous to think about.

Not that you didn't like Nico. It was quite the opposite, actually.

You had always had a tiny crush on Nico. But who didn't?

When Jack and Luke first introduced you to their Swiss captain, he was so warm and friendly that you went home that night starry-eyed and stayed up way too late scrolling through his Instagram feed to try to find out if he had a girlfriend. Totally normal behaviour, of course.

It had felt like love at first sight for you. Maybe it was because he was so personable, the first of Jack's teammates who had ever really taken the time to talk to you and get to know you.

Every time after that initial meeting, he would go out of his way to find you in the crowd whenever you showed up at a team event, being the first to greet you the moment you arrived.

It drove you crazy, though, because he seemed that sweet with everyone, so how were you ever supposed to know if there was meaning behind the way he treated you, or if he was just one of those people that everyone fell in love with when they met?

As affectionate as Nico was, he was also intimidating. So, you never said anything, just quietly enjoying the attention and the butterflies every time he'd pull you into a bear hug that felt like it lasted longer than just friends would hug.

Until this last Valentine's Day, when you drunkenly told Jack about your silly little feelings for Nico after having too many glasses of wine on your bad Tinder date, and crashing at the Hughes apartment for the night, honestly, you didn't even remember saying it until a couple days later, when Jack made a casual comment about how you wanted to fuck their captain while he was in the kitchen making his morning coffee—in front of Luke.

Luke, who couldn't keep a secret to save his life, now knew your biggest secret.

There was no way Nico didn't know you were in love with him within 12 hours of Luke finding out.

So, you had been doing your best to avoid Nico ever since, too scared or embarrassed to have to face him. Avoiding him during the season had been more difficult, having to skip team parties and avoid the friends and family suite after home games. When he headed back to Switzerland for the summer, you felt like you could finally breathe a little easier, no longer anxious about accidentally running into him somewhere when he was no longer even in the same country as you.

When you picked him up that morning, he was his usual laid-back self. He had even offered to be the one to drive, saying he didn't mind driving long distances and felt bad about you having to chauffeur him around. But you politely declined, insisting that he was probably still jet lagged, and forcing him into the passenger seat.

It provided a nice segue to explain that the car was new and this was its first official road trip, leading to a safe and easy-flowing conversation about your car shopping journey and how unhelpful the Hughes brothers had been throughout the entire process.

If he knew about your unrequited feelings, he was at least putting on a good show and acting no different toward you.

It made you feel a tad guilty, if you were honest, about how much you had been ignoring him. Jack had mentioned a few times that Nico had asked about you, if you were coming to a party, or why you had missed a team dinner, and the memory of that was starting to weigh heavily on your conscience.

You should have given Luke more credit for keeping this secret. He seemed to have done a decent job at keeping his mouth shut.

Or, the reality was, Luke and Nico just never talked about you, so there was no opportunity for this to have ever even come up in a conversation. Nico was polite around you because that was how he treated everyone, but when you weren't there, you must not have been on his mind.

But you still had nearly an entire day trapped one-on-one with Nico in this car, plus the weekend at the lakehouse and the return drive home, so you needed to bottle these feelings and shove the intrusive voices to the back of your mind, or you were never going to survive.

Not when he was looking at you with those huge brown eyes, listening intently as you rambled about the new features your car had, as if it were the most interesting story he had ever heard. As if he didn't drive a car easily worth over twice as much as yours.

"It'll even read out your texts as you get them," you explained, taking your right hand off the wheel for a moment to tap on the center touchscreen display.

Nico chuckled as he watched you navigate from the homescreen to the Messages app, showing off your favorite feature. "I think most cars do that these days."

"Maybe your fancy rich people cars do," you scoffed, waving your hand to dismiss him, "but this is my first car that does that."

"Okay, okay, that's fair." He raised his hands to signal defeat, but he was still laughing as he spoke.

"It's when it reads out the emojis that really makes it," you continued to explain, not caring if he found this to be ridiculous. You scrolled through your old notifications, finding a text Luke had sent you the night before that you knew was safe to play out loud because it contained only a string of incoherent emojis. "Now Luke always includes a bunch of random ones when he texts me and knows I might be in the car."

You hit play on the old message, practically beaming as Nico let out a booming laugh, while your car did its best attempt to read out the collection of emojis Luke must have just keyboard-smashed together. His laugh was infectious, making your stomach flutter with butterflies when he found something genuinely amusing. Every time he threw his head back with a giggle, dimples popping, you were sure you could physically feel yourself fall a little bit more in love.

So you let Nico click the following message from Luke, enjoying the sound of him cracking up over the seemingly serious text about the entry code into their apartment's parking garage, followed by hot dog emojis, fireworks, puffer fish, and a snorkel mask.

"How did he even discover this?" Nico asked, scrolling to another message.

"I got a text while he was in the car with me one time, and it just kind of took off from there," you shrugged, not quite sure how to describe that this was just you and Luke's sense of humour.

"I'll make sure I'm using more emojis when I text you," Nico smirked, pressing the home button to return the display to its usual view. "I can't let Luke have all the fun here."

You wanted to mention that Nico never texted you, you weren't those kinds of friends yet, but you kept your mouth shut. Last night was probably the first time you had ever texted him, when a message from an unknown number had popped up, confirming what time he needed to be ready for pickup in the morning. He must have asked Jack for your phone number to help make coordination easier, rather than having to go through Jack, who usually took 3 to 5 business days to respond to a text.

There was a sarcastic comment begging to slip out of your mouth, pushing dangerously close to the line of flirting with Nico, when your phone chimed with an alert for a new text. Luke's name appeared in the push notification at the top of the touchscreen.

"Let's see what Rusty has to say today," he announced, leaning forward to hit the play button in the notification banner.

By the time you looked over at the screen, it was too late, and the message was already playing. Your stomach dropped as you realized the new incoming notification Nico had eagerly pressed play on did not belong to Luke Hughes. There was no moose emoji; this one just said Luke. But Nico wouldn't have known the difference or expected another Luke to be texting you right now.

"Text from Luke: Hey, it's Luke from the SoHo Yoga & Physio Studio. I'm sorry to be doing this over text, but-"

This was just Luke, the toxic yoga instructor and wannabe influencer you had met on Tinder and gone on a couple of dates with, and didn't even know his last name to save in your phone. It was only a few dates, and while the physical chemistry had been great, he was boring to talk to, and you knew it was going to fizzle out sooner rather than later.

You hadn't responded to his last few texts, hoping he would take the hint that maybe this was never anything serious, and it was time to move on. Now, you were sitting in an awkward silence with Nico as your car read out a robotic rendition of what could only be described as a horrific breakup text from Luke.

And from the sounds of his message, he had had a very different interpretation of your brief time together.

"I've been struggling to figure out the best way to say this. I need to do the right thing for both of us, and as much as my heart wants to keep fighting for you, I know deep down you deserve something steadier. Someone who isn't still untangling the mess inside themself. I thought what we had was special, but love, real love, means knowing when to step aside, even when it hurts. I have to let you go because it's the only way I know how to honour what he shared. Please don't reach out. I think it would be best if we both took the proper time and space we need to heal."

Your car chimed again, signaling the end of the message.

You and Nico both sat in complete silence, staring out at the road straight ahead. You weren't quite sure how to explain what that just was, or if Nico would even believe the real story about who Luke was. As casual as those dates had been, he had made it seem like this was some gut-wrenching, long-term breakup that you'd never recover from. Never mind the fact that you had been ignoring his texts for weeks already, or that it was so casual he had to introduce himself at the beginning of the text.

No matter which way you spun it, there was no good way for Nico to take this. The last thing you needed was this beautiful hunk of a man pitying you, because you knew he would be so patient and understanding if this actually had been a real heartbreak.

Nico was the first one to eventually talk. You weren't sure how long you had sat there in the heavy silence, but the longer it went on, the more your skin began to crawl with anxiety.

"I'm so sorry," Nico eventually blurted out. "I didn't mean to—I thought it was going to be from Rusty, and-"

"It's okay," you cut off his ramble, unable to stand hearing anymore from him. You were embarrassed enough as it was. His apology wasn't helping.

"No, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"Honestly, Nico," you raised your voice to quiet him again, "it's fine."

The silence that followed that outburst felt even heavier.

Maybe this would just be the rest of your road trip together. You'd sit in silence, the radio not even playing in the background, for fear that Yoga Luke would send you another unhinged message and somehow make this even worse.

It wasn't as if you could simply choose a new conversation topic and move on, either. Your mind had gone completely blank from the second Nico had walked out of the front door of his apartment building that morning, and all the safe or neutral ground stories you had brainstormed in advance for this trip had disappeared.

As your brain usually did when you were around Nico.

"Jack never mentioned that you were seeing someone." Nico's voice was so quiet, you barely heard him.

You weren't quite sure if you heard him correctly at first. Since when was he talking to Jack about your relationship status? Unless this was confirmation that Jack or Luke definitely told him about your desperate crush on him. And that was why the usually unshaken captain, whom you had never known to ever get nervous before, seemed so uneasy.

"Uh, yeah." You watched Nico frown, his thick brows knitting together as he scowled. It only fuelled your mortifying embarrassment. "But it wasn't, like—it wasn't serious."

"Are you okay?"

His question caught you off guard, whipping your head over to stare at him. "W-what?" you stuttered out, glancing back and forth between the road and his concerned expression. "Why?"

"Your boyfriend—or, I guess, sorry, your ex-boyfriend-" he cringed as his words trailed off, gesturing vaguely in front of him as if that was supposed to make any sense.

"OH!"

Evidently, Nico understood that text to be a lot more dramatic than it really was, too.

"God no," you laughed, unable to stop yourself. "He wasn't my boyfriend. We went on a couple of dates, but he was a bit too much, and I've been ignoring his texts for a while now. Honestly, it was more of just a convenient hook-up situation. That text made it sound a lot more serious than it was."

"Ah," Nico nodded, "right."

You hadn't just told Nico that this guy was a convenient hook-up.

You might as well have screamed it was just sex.

That almost felt worse than having said this was your fiancé or high school sweetheart—anything other than a fling you met on a dating app. Now, you must have looked depressingly desperate to a man who surely had thousands of girls willing to throw themselves at him. He could have his pick of any girl in the entire New York metropolitan area, and probably beyond, and here you were getting dumped in a text message from a Tinder date.

Not brave enough to look over at Nico, you could still see his awkward fidgeting out of the corner of your eye. His hands were preoccupied fiddling with the bracelets on his wrists, routinely sneaking glances at you before focusing back on his hands in his lap.

If this went on any longer, you were going to scream.

"Do you want to stop for coffee?" you asked as you passed an exit sign for a rest stop a few miles ahead. That seemed like a safe distraction. A new topic to focus on, or at the very least, a few minutes to get out of the car and not have to be stuck in this unbearable tension.

"Yes," Nico answered too quickly.

You both couldn't help but giggle at his all-too-eager response.

"Yes," he answered again, clearing his throat before he continued. "Coffee would be great, Schatz."

part two, you can feel it on the way home

"Soooo, did anything exciting happen on your drive up?"

Jack was practically singing, making no attempt to keep his voice down as he let himself into your designated guest bedroom, ignoring the fact that you had definitely not invited him in.

After you and Nico had finally arrived at the lakehouse, well behind schedule because Jack had called Nico and asked you to make a few pit stops at the grocery store in town, you had caught the two of them whispering to each other as they unloaded all the bags from the car. Jack had grinned when he spotted you, before waving you off and insisting you could go relax because they could handle it. Which felt entirely uncharacteristic of Jack.

He then spent the rest of the evening smirking at you, his mischievous grin only growing wider every time he caught you glaring at him.

Physically and emotionally exhausted from the day, after helping Quinn tidy up the dishes from dinner, you had excused yourself to bed for the evening. Luke had whined that it was way too early to go to bed, especially when he had such big plans for a bonfire tonight to celebrate the first official night of their beer Olympics weekend.

Unfortunately, shortly after you had arrived at the lake house, the weather had taken a drastic turn, and it had been pouring rain ever since. Even if the rain were to let up now, so you could all sit outside at the fire pit, the ground and all of the wood would be far too soaked to actually be able to have a fire.

So, you politely said goodnight to the group, making your way to your usual bedroom at the very end of the upstairs hallway. It wasn't the sunshine you had been hoping for, but lying back across the mountain of fluffed pillows with your book while listening to the rhythmic patter of the rain falling outside was a decent substitution.

You had only managed to get one chapter in before you could hear Jack's heavy footsteps stomping down the hallway toward your room. While he didn't knock to let you know he was entering, you could have easily heard him coming from a mile away.

Reluctantly putting your bookmark back between the pages to hold your spot, you hoisted yourself up until you were sitting and could look up at Jack.

"Did Nico already tell you?" you scowled. "God, word travels fast around here."

"So, something did happen?" Jack tilted his head to the side, a bit like a confused puppy. He finally closed the door behind him, stepping further into your room. "Is that why you were late? You two pulled over to fuck? Because Nico is never late—you're never late!"

Your jaw dropped at his accusation. "No."

"I thought you two were finally going to confess your love for each other, but it sounds like nine hours locked in a car led to a little more."

"We were late," you argued through gritted teeth, "because you sent us on a scavenger hunt across town for some stupid gluten-free graham crackers for a bonfire you can't even have because it's pissing rain outside right now."

"You're a little testy tonight," he smirked. "Is it that time-"

"Do not finish that sentence," you warned, pointing an accusatory finger at Jack, "or I'm going to go downstairs right now and tell your little girlfriend about the time you had ringworm. See if she still fancies you then, huh?"

"So hostile for no reason," Jack mused. But from the smirk on his face, you could tell he was loving this. There was nothing Jack enjoyed more than seeing how many of your buttons he could push. "I think someone needs to get laid."

"Ha. Ha."

"I know just the guy," Jack continued, ignoring your noticeable glare. "He just so happens to be downstairs, and a little birdy told me that you have a crush on him."

"I don't-" you started to protest, but Jack wasn't having any of it.

"That little birdy was you, by the way," he reminded, as if you could have ever forgotten. "A bottle of rosé deep, and you were blubbering in my kitchen about how Nico was the greatest guy you had ever met and you couldn't stop thinking about-"

"You have three seconds to get out of my room before I murder you."

That shut Jack up, his jaw dropping as he stared at you in disbelief. "Your room?" he gawked. "This is my house!"

"Three…"

"Okay, okay!" Jack laughed, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry! I just meant-"

"Two…"

"Fine," Jack whined. He huffed as he folded his arms across his chest, like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. "Message received. I'm leaving."

You went back to your book as you heard the door click shut behind him. It only took a few seconds for the door to open again, which you had anticipated, not bothering to reopen your book just yet. It wasn't like Jack to give up that easily, so he was due for at least another visit or two.

You did roll your eyes when Jack's head popped back into the door frame. All he did was raise his eyebrows at you, as if that was enough to understand his message.

"What, Jack?"

"Are you seriously not going to come back downstairs?"

"Nope," you shrugged, nonchalantly returning to your book. "I'm pretty content up here right now."

"I'm happy you're content, but Nico is down there moping all alone, looking like a lost puppy." Jack paused for dramatic effect, groaning when he realised his big speech wasn't working on you yet. "Come on. He needs a little cheering up because apparently, he found out you were sleeping with someone else today, and we all know he's too polite to come up here and talk to you himself because he doesn't want to 'invade your space' or whatever."

"I wish more people would respect my space like that," you mumbled under your breath.

From the way Jack sternly said your name, you figured he had heard your comment. He propped the door open a bit wider, leaning against the doorframe as he looked at you expectantly. "I'm being serious," Jack continued. "This guy's wound so tight I think he's going to snap. He needs a little-"

A pillow thrown directly at Jack's face shut him up pretty quickly.

"Apparently, you both need-"

"Jack," you warned, voice stern. "Get. Out."

He let out the most over-the-top sigh you had ever seen from the middle Hughes brother, making a dramatic show as he turned around and left once again.

If you ignored Jack, he would usually catch on eventually. You heard him mumble some more complaints under his breath before you listened to his footsteps retreat back down the hall. He'd more than likely be back in a few minutes to try again, whatever his end goal was here.

You were annoyed he hadn't bothered to close the door again on his way out, but that confirmed for you that he probably wasn't done annoying you for the night. For a moment, you contemplated getting up to close the door, and maybe lock it this time, but instead, you just focused back on your book, carefully turning to the next page.

As expected, you had just turned the page of your book when you could hear a set of footsteps coming back down the hall toward your room. The loose plank of wood in the middle of the hallway floor squeaked under the weight of your visitor's footsteps.

Jack usually avoided the creaking floorboards, preferring to try and surprise you with his drop-ins, despite how loud his footsteps always were. Clearly, he was trying to get your attention and see just how far he could poke and prod to annoy you before you finally caved in and followed him downstairs.

But you weren't going to play along today.

You were mortified enough from that car ride with Nico. So, you were taking every excuse to not have to be around him, before you had to somehow survive being locked together in a car for another 9 hours on your return drive home in a few days.

It was only a few seconds after you heard the usual floorboard creak that there was another soft knock on the frame of the door that Jack had left ajar.

"Jack, I swear to God," you groaned, not even bothering to look up to greet him. You weren't going to play along. You'd just jump right to the chase, too tired for whatever ridiculous story he was coming back with this time. "I'm not going to fuck your captain. Please stop asking."

"Oh-"

That didn't sound like Jack's voice. And Jack wasn't one to ever end up speechless.

The silence made your heart stop.

Your head snapped up, hoping to find Jack standing before you, only it wasn't him in the doorway. Instead, it was Nico, looking just as shell-shocked as you were, closed fist still raised against the wood trim of the doorframe where he had just knocked.

"Oh my God," was all you could manage to squeak out. You both stared at each other, not quite sure what either of you was supposed to say next.

Apologize! Yes, that's what you needed to do. Just apologize, and he'd go away. Maybe you could even fake an emergency and drive all the way home alone in the middle of the night, so you'd never have to see him again.

"Nico, I-"

"You know?"

All you could do was blink, trying to force your brain to focus on the words coming out of Nico's mouth. But everything felt and sounded a bit fuzzy at the moment. "What?"

Nico's hands came up to frantically rake through his hair, a telltale sign when he was stressed or worried. "Jack said he wasn't going to say anything."

Perhaps your brain simply couldn't keep up because this all made no sense to you. Was Nico trying to defend Jack, make excuses for his teammate about why he had spilled your secret? Actually, no, it sounded like Nico was in disbelief because Jack had told him he wasn't going to say something.

"To me?" you asked. It didn't make much sense, but the fraction of the sentence was all you could manage to stutter out at the moment.

It was Nico's turn to look confused. "What?"

"Jack wasn't supposed to say anything to you," you tried to clarify, but it only seemed to confuse Nico more.

"About what?" Nico shook his head, trying to clear his jumbled thoughts. This happened every summer; his English would slip away when he went back home, and it would take a while for his brain to adjust to switching back from Swiss German. "Sorry, this is too confusing. I don't think I even know what we're talking about anymore."

"I, uh-" your voice cracked as you tried to find the words. "It's nothing. Just forget it."

"I just walked in on you angrily telling Jack to stop asking you to sleep with me, so no," Nico let out a dark laugh, "I don't think I'm going to be able to just forget this one."

You groaned, trying to cover your flushed face with your hands as you sank backwards into your pillows. Perhaps if you shrank yourself small enough, you would disappear entirely.

"What did Jack say to you?" Nico asked, nervously scratching at the back of his neck as he remained firmly rooted in the doorway.

"Nothing! He's just—he's just teasing me about…" Your voice trailed off as you shrugged, too scared to actually say the words.

Because if you admitted your feelings out loud, that was it.

There was no going back. You were ruining any chance at actually having a normal friendship with Nico.

"Oh God, he did tell you," Nico sighed, leaning his head against the doorframe with a soft thud. He briefly closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself—the kind you were so used to seeing him take before an important face-off. "I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you myself, I swear! I just—I didn't know how, I guess."

Something wasn't adding up.

Nico was the one apologizing for something Jack had told you? You couldn't think of a single important thing Jack had told you recently, especially anything that would require an apology from Nico. Had you just blocked out whatever it was? Or maybe your memory was still a little fragmented, given the events of the last 24 hours.

"Nico," you tried to keep your voice steady, "what do you think Jack told me?"

"That I like you?" he answered, as if it were obvious.

He liked you?

The entire earth seemed to tilt off its axis at that moment.

Nico liked you?

You felt dizzy, as if your mind were playing a trick on you. You couldn't quite comprehend what Nico had just said. There was no way.

If Nico liked you—if Jack knew that Nico liked you, why had he just let you ramble about how much you liked his captain and never once said anything? Was that why Jack had been encouraging you to make a move? Because he knew Nico felt the same way?

He was pushing so hard because he was listening to both of his friends whine about their apparently unrequited feelings for each other. And he had been true to his word, never spilling Nico's secret for him, even if he was being a bit over the top with his not-so-gentle nudge to try and force you two together.

"Look, I just, uh," Nico let out another deep breath. "I came up here to make sure you were okay after today. And now I'm the one embarrassed here, so I'm going to leave you alone, and hope tomorrow we can pretend this entire day never happened."

Without waiting for a reply, Nico pushed himself off the doorframe he had been resting against and turned to leave.

He couldn't just tell you that he liked you and then leave. This was everything you had been hoping for, and now he was about to walk away?

But you hadn't said anything yet, you realized. You had been silent, your mind spinning too fast for you to get any sort of coherent words out, since Nico had admitted his feelings out loud. He must have taken your silence to mean you didn't feel the same.

Jack's earlier words popped into your head.

He needs a little cheering up because apparently, he found out you were sleeping with someone else today.

In an effort to downplay the embarrassment of the Yoga Luke fiasco, you had tried to use it being a casual hook-up as an excuse. Now, it seemed like evidence to back up the idea that you weren't interested in Nico because you were seeing other people.

Even though Nico was the one moping, silently trying to come to terms with the idea that the person he liked seemed to be seeing someone else, he was still the one going out of his way to come and check on you to make sure you were alright after everything that had happened today.

And now he was walking away, convinced you didn't feel the same, because you didn't say anything in response.

"No, Nico, wait!" You scrambled off the bed, carelessly tossing your book to the side as you did your best to stumble to your feet. Nico froze in the hallway, only a few strides away, slowly turning back around as you called his name. "Sorry, I'm just a little caught off guard, and I didn't know what to say."

Nico visibly cringed as you finally reached him, obviously taking your words wrong.

"In a good way, I promise!" you tried to reassure him. "Jack just—Jack never said anything."

You took another step forward, your toes practically touching Nico's as you stood face to face in the hall. Aware of how easily sound carried down this hallway, you lowered your voice. The last thing you wanted was for someone to overhear this conversation, and you could picture Jack and Luke hiding just around the corner, eavesdropping at the top of the stairs.

Your voice was barely above a whisper, forcing Nico to duck his head down to hear you. "Jack never told me that you liked me, too."

"Too?"

You nodded, eyes focused on watching Nico's chest rise and fall as he took a few laboured breaths. "So, forgive me that it took a moment to wrap my head around the idea that you could possibly feel the same way that I do."

Nico's hand hesitantly brushed against your own, the brief contact enough to send a static jolt of electricity through your veins. It made your heart rate speed up impossibly fast, your toes curling with anticipation.

"So, you really-" Nico's voice trailed off, quiet and hesitant like he still wasn't quite convinced.

"Yeah," you nodded, a small, breathless laugh escaping. "Yeah, I really do."

Your hands came up to rest on his broad chest, tugging gently on the fabric. Before you could second-guess it, you rose up on your toes and kissed him.

The kiss began softly, almost cautiously. The kind of kiss that felt like coming home after a long day, shoulders relaxing as you thought, finally. Nico froze for half a breath, then melted into you, his hands coming up to cradle your waist as if he was desperately trying to anchor himself to reality.

It was soft for only a moment before the years of almosts and what-ifs finally cracked open between you. Your fingers threaded into Nico's hair, pulling him down closer to you. His hands gripped your hips tightly as he leaned in, mouth opening against yours to deepen the kiss with a groan he didn't mean to let out.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless, you barely moved. Still wrapped up in each other, your foreheads rested together as you both tried to catch your breath.

Somewhere in the background, you could hear the faint hum of laughter floating up the stairs. It brought you back to reality for a moment, reminding you where exactly you were and the complete lack of privacy this intimate moment really had.

Jack's distinct laugh coming from downstairs made you pause. It was partially drowned out by the terrible country playlist one of Quinn's friends insisted on putting on, which meant he definitely wasn't waiting at the top of the stairs, and he probably hadn't heard any of this conversation. But it did mean he was awake, and would notice that Nico had left to go check on you and then mysteriously never returned.

"Is Jack waiting for you back downstairs for an update?"

"No," Nico shook his head, his hands coming to rest on the small of your back. "All I said was I was going to bed."

You nodded, biting your already swollen bottom lip as you watched Nico's smile grow. He must have had a similar trail of thought, because those adorable dimples only seemed to become more pronounced as he tightened his grip on you.

"Then let's go to bed."

Nico ducked his head down to capture your lips in another heated kiss. He began to walk you backward, kissing you harder now, deeper, as his hands slid under the hem of your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin. With your arms wound around his neck, you stumbled backward together, laughing into each other's mouths at your uncoordinated dance as Nico blindly kicked the door shut behind you.

You pulled apart for only a second, each holding your breath to see if your cover had been blown by the soft slam of the door.

But the noise downstairs continued on, no one the wiser to the two of you holed up in your bedroom, unaware of the way your breath caught in your throat as you heard Nico click the lock behind him. Satisfied that the coast was clear, you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt and softly tugged him backward, the music downstairs drowning out the shuffle of your feet on the old floorboards and the creaks of the well-worn bedframe.

Wrapped up in nothing but the thin cotton sheets, you could still hear the music from downstairs, having now switched from country to the rap playlist you knew Jack always played on game days to get him hyped up. There was still a fair amount of yelling because, apparently, they were betting on beer pong, and someone was convinced Luke was cheating.

Between the dull hum of the bass vibrating up through the floorboards and the soothing sound of Nico's steady breathing, you could barely keep your eyes open. With your head resting on Nico's bare chest, you closed your eyes for only a second.

"I can't believe you told Jack you liked me," you mumbled out, your half-asleep brain accidentally muttering the thought out loud. You could feel Nico laugh, the soft chuckle rumbling in his chest from where your head lay.

"I did," he agreed, his hand coming up to absentmindedly twirl a piece of your hair between his fingers. "A while ago, honestly. I'm surprised he managed not to say anything."

"How long is a while?" You couldn't resist asking.

Nico snorted, earning a gentle swat from you. "Are you trying to embarrass me here? Is this some sort of payback for that text from Luke?"

"Shut up," you groaned. But when Nico remained quiet, you decided to speak up first. "I told him on Valentine's Day. What a way to celebrate the holiday."

"New Year's Eve," Nico admitted quietly. "Two years ago."

You pulled back, propping yourself up on your elbow so you could properly face him. Nico was staring at the ceiling, breathing shallowly as he waited for your reaction to his confession.

"The party at Jonas' place?"

"Yeah," he nodded, eyes still focused on the ceiling. "Jack caught me looking for you before midnight. Called me out right away."

You tried to think back to that party, to see if anything about that night stood out at all to you. You remembered not wanting to go, complaining about how awkward it would be to have no one to kiss at midnight. Jack had just shrugged, insisting that you should come because it would be way more fun than sitting at home alone. And it had been fun, until you heard the midnight countdown start in the living room, and you hid in Jonas' spare bedroom, hoping no one would notice that you had disappeared in such a crowd of people.

Drunk, in the cab on the way back home, Jack had asked if you had kissed Nico at midnight. You had assumed this was him making a smartass joke or seeing through your facade and knowing about your crush on his captain that you hadn't yet admitted to, yet—and wouldn't actually tell him about for another two years.

Turns out, Jack had just assumed that Nico had actually found you that night and had worked up the courage to admit his feelings, or at least drunkenly kissed you to ring in the New Year. And when he hadn't, Jack would then spend the next two years making subtle hints to both of you that one of you needed to make a move.

"Oh no," you groaned, letting yourself collapse back onto the pillow next to Nico. "Jack is going to be so smug about this."

"He is," Nico agreed.

"Unless we don't tell him." It was your turn to keep your gaze fixed on the ceiling, too scared to see how Nico would react to your idea. "Not that I want to keep this a secret. I just-"

"Don't want to be stuck here with a self-righteous Jack telling you I told you so all weekend?" he finished for you.

"Exactly," you breathed out in relief.

"Whatever you want, Schatz," Nico laughed. In one swift motion, he rolled onto his side to grab you by the hip and pull you forward until you were tucked perfectly against his chest. You let yourself relax into him, burying your face into the crook of his neck to try and stifle your giddy smile as he pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear. "I'm following your lead here."

So, you didn't tell anyone.

Nico snuck back to his own room just before the sun started to rise, expertly avoiding all the creaky floorboards you pointed out. And no one was any the wiser.

The weekend turned out a lot better than you had thought it would. What had initially been absolute dread about the thought of having to spend the weekend at the lakehouse, only made worse by your catastrophic road trip to get here, had ended up turning into a fun game of stealing kisses when no one was looking, taking turns tiptoeing into each other's rooms each night, and holding hands under the table at every meal.

Jack was suspicious the entire time, but never actually said anything.

He had nearly caught Nico untying your bikini top in the kitchen on the final morning when you didn't hear his usually heavy footsteps. You and Nico had assumed you were alone, everyone already down at the dock while you two had been tasked with packing up a cooler full of drinks to take down onto the boat.

The two of you had jumped apart when you heard Jack call your name, mumbling out some excuse about needing help putting sunscreen on your back. Nico had assured you that Jack had bought the excuse, but you couldn't ignore the feeling of him watching you like a hawk for the rest of the day.

And you did catch Jack and Luke whispering to each other while glancing over at you and Nico during your final dinner together that night.

If Nico noticed their suspicious behavior, he was unfazed, his hand resting firmly on your thigh under the table the entire time.

Nico held your hand any chance he could, including on your drive home once you had waved goodbye to the rest of the group and pulled out of the long gravel driveway.

You had finally agreed to let him drive your car that morning, something he had been insisting was only fair since you had driven the entire way there. No longer dreading the thought of awkward silences or hoping Nico would just fall asleep in the passenger seat so you wouldn't have to try and make forced small talk, you agreed to let him drive.

Plus, this meant you could get comfortable in the passenger seat, unabashedly staring over at Nico the entire time. He didn't seem to mind the staring, glancing over to steal a glimpse at you too every now and again.

With one hand on the steering wheel, his other hand remained interlaced with yours, resting on the center console between you. It was sickeningly sweet, if you were honest.

You were giggling over some sarcastic joke Nico had made, entirely wrapped up in this honeymoon stage bubble you and Nico had created, almost not noticing that the music you had put on in the background had faded out. Your phone chimed with an alert, and a notification of a new text from Luke appeared on the center display.

Nico hesitated for a moment, clearly having flashbacks to your drive up to the lakehouse.

But this time, it was Luke Hughes' contact that the notification had come from, confirmed by the moose emoji you had added to the end.

"Let's see what Rusty has to say," you giggled, reaching over with your right hand to press play.

What could Luke have to say that could possibly be worse than last time?

"Text from Luke. Moose: HOLD ON A SECOND, DID YOU FUCK OUR CAPTAIN? Revolving light. Nauseated face. Revolving light."

Nico laughed, clearly amused by the youngest Hughes brother's message, including his usual mandatory emojis. As the message finished playing, the playlist you had initially been listening to faded back in.

You felt your cheeks going beet red as Nico gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

You were about to apologize, a rambling string of incoherent words about not meaning to embarrass him, and you'll tell Luke it's not true if he didn't want anyone to know yet, or maybe ever, because maybe this wasn't something he wanted to ever tell anyone, because what even was this?

Love? Friends with benefits? Or something entirely in between that you would take your time to explore and figure out because you both clearly liked each other as more than friends, and honestly, you thought your chemistry worked so well together, and—

Nico brought your intertwined hands up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, instantly quieting your racing thoughts.

"Do you want to stop for coffee, Schatz?"

#ugh i LOVE THIS #perfection from katie as usual #nico hischier #k’s recs #devils

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writingonleaves · 1 month ago

Text

WHEN WE'RE 28 / JACK HUGHES

SUMMARY The wedding bells are ringing, but Jack and Valeria aren't the ones getting married.

WORD COUNT 3.0k

WARNINGS/TROPES childhood friends-to-lovers, marriage pact

AUTHOR'S NOTE Another childhood friends-to-lovers moment, but this one is another personal favourite of mine.

Twenty-five is a perfectly fine age to get married. Some might even say it's too early.

But if the number of weddings Valeria Escarra has attended recently is any indication, many of her friends think otherwise.

They were mostly summer weddings, with the singular spring one a few weeks ago and the odd winter exception that had her tears freezing to her lashline before they could even drip down her cheeks. If she counts it right, this might be Wedding #5—maybe #6—of the year, and it takes the cake.

The gaudy church doors open into the majestic chapel, and the bells toll with a booming echo to let the neighbors in this affluent town know that a ceremony of love is being held. A cursory glance at the building shows that the pews are lined with more people than Valeria thinks she knows, which doesn't surprise her. The high school sweethearts getting married have a web of connections spanning the nation and far beyond—an impressive feat considering the mid-sized town they come from.

Perhaps the one person who did make it big is none other than the groomsman she's (perhaps not so coincidentally) been paired with: Jack Hughes.

(Or Puck Hughes, as she called him back in high school, a name that quickly regressed to Fuck Hughes when she grew annoyed with him) (To which he would roll his eyes, but he'd never once told her to stop).

"I'm scared shitless," Valeria says, shoving her curled face-framing hair out of her eyes as if the stylist didn't just spend an ungodly amount of time on it. "It's not even my wedding!"

Jack cracks one of his charming grins, mildly amused as she fans her underarms, checking her pale green satin dress for any dark stains. "What, scared you're next? Oh—wait."

Valeria scowls. "You're such a dick."

"You look fine," he says nonchalantly, turning to his fancy watch. Two minutes before they're due to walk down the aisle.

"You're the one to say that."

Jack barks out a laugh.

"What if we trip?" she asks, eyes scanning the crowd. She feels queasy just looking at its magnitude.

"We won't."

"You don't know that."

"Val." Jack grabs her shoulders and forces their gazes to meet. "Relax. It'll be fine."

Her breath stays in her chest before she notices his skewed boutonniere. It isn't egregiously skewed by any means, but this is one of her best friends' big days, and she needs everything to be perfect and in place. Jordyn and Nate deserve that.

"Hold this." She shoves her bouquet into his hand and goes to adjust the boutonniere tucked into his dark green suit pocket. She doesn't acknowledge the flaming heat his grip leaves on her skin.

"Thirty seconds, princess."

"Shut it, Fuck Hughes."

Amusement flits through his eyes as he hands her the bouquet back. He holds his elbow out when the organ starts playing a soft melody, her hand contrastingly delicate as it wraps around him. He sucks in a sharp breath with an added desire to make sure her imagined scenario doesn't ring true, though he doesn't pay her attention as the first set of bridesmaids and groomsmen enter the chapel.

"I've missed you too, Val."

The nuptials were beautiful. Jack and Valeria did not trip down the aisle, and Valeria even caught herself tearing up and laughing at Jordyn and Nate's vows—the old memories, embarrassing stories, sweet moments that culminated in the loving ceremony they found themselves in, and promises to remain by each other's side through life's ups and downs.

It was sweet—the tooth-rotting, stomach-bloating kind of sweet that sometimes elicits a gag reflex but sparks a craving all the same.

She's watched them go from idiotic high schoolers to prosperous adults, and she doesn't think there's anyone else who deserves such a remarkable event.

Even Jack, who snickered when he noticed her ever-changing expressions that resembled a rollercoaster on steroids, can't deny how much he loves watching their friends tie the knot after all these years.

Once the wedding moves into the reception hall, far away from the cathedral Jordyn's parents had insisted on, the stress of perfection falls from Valeria's shoulders, and she allows herself to slip into what will be a rowdy night to remember.

She chuckles to herself. Rowdy. It always circles back to Jack, it seems. That attention seeker. Even when he's not there to grab it.

Jack sidles up to her as Jordyn and Nate glide onto the empty dance floor for their first dance together as husband and wife. A slow and silvery tune caresses their ears and spreads warmth across their chests, curving their lips in soft, proud smiles. There's a tender glow in the newlyweds' eyes—an undisputed display of soul-binding affection that rivals the brightest star in the universe.

They can only hope to find love anywhere remotely close to theirs.

When the song fades into another, the maid of honor and best man join Jordyn and Nate on the dance floor, and one by one, the rest of the bridesmaids and groomsmen fill the space—a growing bouquet of dark green suits and light green slip dresses.

"Wait, shit, that's our sign." Jack downs the rest of his drink and puts it on a nearby round table, wiping the condensation from the ice on his pants. He turns to Valeria and holds his hand out. "May I?"

"You're a dork," she says, shaking her head with a begrudgingly fond smile. "You have a handprint on your pants now."

Jack glances down, and his deflated expression pulls a chuckle from Valeria as she slips her hand into his. "Between your dress and my suit, I don't know which one stains easier."

Valeria lets him string her onto the dance floor and twirl her into his grasp. She holds onto his shoulders carefully because she knows he's had one too many surgeries on them, and they sway gently to the music that speaks of a love neither of them has experienced.

"Your date okay with you dancing with me?" she asks.

"Didn't bring one," he answers easily.

"Really?" Valeria notches an eyebrow incredulously. "Didn't you check the plus-one option?"

Jack's face twists. "Didn't work out."

"Aw." She pouts, almost condescendingly. "Couldn't find someone else in time?"

"No," he grumbles, earning a laugh that has him smiling. "That's not an invitation to go falling in love with me now."

Valeria rolls her eyes when he winks. "You're charming, but I'm not falling in love with the guy who gestured for me to flash him after he got drafted."

Jack's head hangs low, nearly resting on the slope of her shoulder, as his chest trembles with laughter. "God, I can't believe someone caught that on camera."

The beginnings of a grin stretch across her mauve-painted lips. "Eighteen-year-old you was a menace to society, Puck."

He doesn't let her know how the nickname makes his heartstrings strum with nostalgia. "I like to think I've toned it down a bit," he says.

"You're still a frat guy at heart, Puck." She pats his chest. "Don't downplay it."

Amusement flickers in the blues of his eyes, and Valeria dreads whatever comment she's opened the door to. "Wasn't that your type in college, though?"

The music shifts to something more upbeat, something that invites the rest of the crowd to join, and Jack pulls away from Valeria's gentle grasp. Neither of them acknowledges the searing and lingering warmth that wraps around their bodies in their absence.

Jack starts walking backwards, lips slanted with a smug smirk.

Valeria glares at his retreating figure, wishing he'd bump into someone to wipe that expression off his face. "Still not falling in love with you!"

"Suuuure!"

As the party plunges deeper into the night, Valeria finds herself bouncing from person to person, to the bar, to the bride and groom, back to the bar, to the dancefloor with the other bridesmaids, and just about everywhere else she could in the grand reception hall.

The soft lights have dimmed, replaced by bright LEDs that flash like they're at a club—fitting for their mid-twenties lifestyle—and the walls shake with the music blasting from the speakers stationed throughout the room. It's a party in every sense of the word—some are stuffing their mouths with finger foods, some are already way too hammered to know what's left and what's right, some are dancing like they have no responsibilities, and the ones with kids have already called it a night.

Valeria thinks she might be next to leave if Jordyn will let her. Dancing in heels she hasn't broken into completely is not one of Valeria's most genius ideas, and she quickly comes to regret it as her feet ache in the worst of ways. She hobbles off the dance floor and collapses on a chair to hastily unclasp the shoes.

"How drunk are you?"

"Not drunk enough," Valeria grumbles.

Jack laughs, taking over the seat beside her.

"What's with the sunglasses?"

He shoves them off his eyes until they rest on the top of his head, squinting now that the world is ten times brighter. "Nate's doing. I think."

Amusement brightens Valeria's face. "You're so wasted."

"Am not." Jack won't admit that the music is fostering a massive headache in his skull and that the colorful lights are blending together.

Valeria reaches for his garnished drink—some clear liquid on the rocks—and sips. Immediately, her face pinches in disgust. "Holy shit, what the hell did you ask for, Puck?"

"I honestly have no idea." He smiles sheepishly. "It might've been someone else's order."

"Hockey player by day, thief by night. Maybe you should add that to your LinkedIn bio. Wait, do you even have one?"

Jack just shakes his head at her antics. He beckons with his fingers at her, and Valeria drapes her legs over his lap, sighing contently when he rubs at the red lines indenting her feet. It's an incredibly tender moment that doesn't fit with the clamorous party around them, but they're far too gone to slip into the repartees that dictate their relationship.

Valeria throws her head back with a groan, the back of her chair supporting her neck. "I can't believe the people we grew up with are all getting married."

"Crazy to think about," he agrees.

"Are you going to Matt's wedding?"

Jack hums his dissent. "Gotta be back in Jersey by then."

"Oh, thank God." She laughs when he flicks her ankle.

A few moments pass, and the air shifts like all the adrenaline keeping them upright has finally run its course and the drinks have caught up to them. Valeria drags her attention to Jordyn and Nate. "Do you think our time's running out?" she asks quietly.

Jack pauses, lifting his gaze and letting it trail over the sharp angles of her face while she stares off into the distance. "Sometimes," he admits.

Valeria gulps. If Jack Hughes—with his charming, pretty smile and strangely sweet demeanor beneath the layers of sass and indifference—thinks their time is running out, then she's screwed. Utterly screwed. If he can't find someone, there's absolutely no hope for her.

"But that's what the pact's for, isn't it?" Jack asks.

It takes a second for the words to cycle through Valeria's head. She meets his stare with lips parted in surprise. "You remember it?"

Jack snorts. "Of course I do. We're nearing twenty-eight, and we're both still single. I'm almost banking on us getting married at this point."

The corners of Valeria's lips lift softly. "I never knew why I agreed it that. I only ever tolerated you back then."

A teasing glint shines in his eyes. "It's because you were secretly in love with me. Would go all goo-goo eyes on me."

"You wish." She shoves his thigh with her foot. "Actually, now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure I used that pact as motivation to get married before then."

"And how's that going for you?" he goads.

Valeria groans in exasperation, lolling her head to look at the ceiling. "Like shit! I mean, seriously, what the fuck?"

Jack hums his amusement, and their eyes connect again. His sunglasses flop back over his eyes, lending itself to a peal of laughter. The sound dies on his tongue when she reaches for his sunglasses and gently pushes them back into his styled hair—a little headband that keeps the longer strands out of his face.

"We suck at love," she concludes when her back slumps against her chair again.

"I'll toast to that."

Valeria smiles as a tender pause flowers between them amidst the booming bass of their surroundings. Again, it feels too intimate for how and where they are.

"I hope you do more than just tolerate me nowadays, Val."

There's a moment where Valeria thinks her throat closes up, and her heart stammers. Jack's voice was thick with a vulnerability they'll usually only allow for a few seconds at a time. The timer rings, and she swallows the feeling. "That depends," she says, dragging her finger over the tablecloth. "Are you gonna spill your drink on me like you did at Homecoming?"

"You have my drink," he points out. His eyes crinkle some more when she slides it back to him. "It was an accident, but, man, I was such an ass to you back then."

Valeria waves him off. "All in good fun. I wasn't particularly nice to you either."

"TP'd my car, for one," he says. "You can deny it all you want, but I know that was you."

"Your parents probably still hate me for that."

Jack grins at the memory.

"I wouldn't, by the way," he voices. "Spill my drink on you. Definitely don't want to ruin this dress when you look so good in it."

"You're trying to get a head start."

"Wouldn't hurt." He shrugs, letting her feet drop to the floor.

Valeria shakes her head at him, fighting back her smile as he stands.

He hooks his fingers under the counters of her heels and extends his other hand. "Another dance?"

She lets him pull her off her seat. "Don't throw up on me, Puck."

"Baby, didn't you hear my thing about your dress?"

Jack leads her onto the dance floor and twirls her again, his smile growing with each drunken laugh that tumbles past her lips. Valeria collides with his chest as the music winds down, the night's end creeping nearer. His sturdy arms cord around her waist, cradling her body gently against his as they sway to the soft ballads.

They continue until the very end, until they're due to help Jordyn and Nate close out the festivities, and dance their way back to the hotel.

Jack, still with her shoes in his hands, walks Valeria, now wearing his sunglasses, back to her room with a dopey smile on his face, swinging their interlocked hands until they reach her door.

Valeria swipes her key card over the lock, listening for the whirring mechanics before shoving the door open with her weight. She rolls over until her back slants against the door, her hand paling around the doorknob that keeps her upright. Her eyes zero in on Jack as he places her shoes by the doorway, and she thanks him—a breathy sigh filled with exhaustion.

"Can I have my sunglasses back?"

"You don't even know if they're yours."

Jack gently removes them from her head anyway.

"Night, Jack."

"Night, Val."

She turns to head in but hesitates after the first step. She finds Jack again. "I do more than tolerate you, by the way."

He smiles—soft around the edges. "Start looking at wedding venues."

"Twenty-eight, Puck," she reminds him. "Twenty-eight. Not a second earlier."

"Yours or mine?"

"Jesus, Puck, mine obviously. Pact wouldn't be true if one of us were still twenty-seven."

Jack holds back his laugh. "Your twenty-eighth. Not a second earlier."

The clock barely strikes midnight on Valeria's twenty-eighth birthday when she hears a series of knocks on her front door. She checks her phone and glimpses a few texts rolling in from her friends before she forces herself out of bed.

Her feet drag over the floor as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes. The peephole gives little to go off of when she peers into it—a bouquet of flowers obscuring her chances of figuring out who's on the other side, but she has a nagging feeling she knows who it is.

Unless her friends decided to surprise her, who else is going to knock on her door right when she turns twenty-eight?

The door creaks open, and Jack Hughes stands before her with a boyish grin reminiscent of the charming kid she grew up with.

"Not a second too early," he says like a reminder.

"You were cutting it close."

A teasing glint shines in his eyes. "You can fall in love with me now."

Valeria sighs. "I guess the days of just tolerating you are over." Her cheeks round with her smile when he rolls his eyes. "I was thinking about a summer wedding," she says.

"Works with me." Jack steps into her apartment. "What else?"

"Hamptons. Sag Harbor, maybe, or Amagansett."

Jack closes the door behind him. "Did you look up how to pronounce that?"

"Irrelevant."

Valeria holds her breath when he stands before her. His eyes search hers for any ounce of objection.

"Just kiss me already," she whispers into the air between them.

Jack cracks a smile before gently grasping her jaw, capturing her lips in a kiss that promises years of affection and passion that transcend the works of the great poets combined.

Valeria pulls away when her brain goes fuzzy.

"Wanna show me your Pinterest board while we're at it?"

"Shut it, Fuck Hughes."

#ugh one of my faves ever #jack hughes #devils #k’s recs

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