Chapter Text
Cop-Con was one of Amy’s favorite NYPD-sponsored events. She loved getting to test out all of the new equipment and technology. There were so many great seminars and presentations for her to see. Beyond that, it was great to meet all sorts of different superiors and colleagues that she could collaborate and exchange stories with.
She didn’t come to cop-con for the party that Buffalo PD always put on, but it was an added perk. This year, she had an early seminar to hit in the morning, so she wouldn’t be able to be as uninhibited at the party as she may have been in previous years. Not that she was ever exactly uninhibited, per se, but she was begrudgingly sipping on a water in the corner of the room instead of something stronger this time around.
Her partner had dragged her to the party because they weren’t going to miss the Buffalo PD party just because she couldn’t figure out how to shake hands without some old guy’s guidance and approval. She rolled her eyes when Rosa had said that, and she was rolling them again now.
Loud music coursed through the room, and normally she’d be three drinks in by now and wouldn’t have a care in the world, but tonight she was gritting her teeth and staring at Rosa from across the room. She was waiting for her to inevitably get tired of the group of drunk people she was talking to and gesture to the door, finally giving her an out. She could almost feel the cool sheets on her skin, and it was a feeling she was craving more than she had previously noticed.
She was torn from her thoughts when someone bumped into her. Hands on her waist quickly steadied her before they backed off completely, palms facing her in a gesture of apology and innocence. Behind the hands was a man, a few inches taller than her with fluffy curls in a mess tipping onto his forehead.
“I’m so sorry,” he smiled at her, and it was a goofy smile that put her at ease despite him almost knocking her over a few seconds before. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
She shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“Hey,” he began as soon as she finished, ducking closer so she could hear him over the music. “Could you actually help me out with something? My friend over there,” he gestured behind him to a shorter man, who waved at her across the room, “bet me that I couldn’t–– Are you drinking water?”
She looked down at the water bottle in her hands and laughed. “Yeah, I have to be up early.”
He frowned. “But it’s Cop-Con,” he whined, sticking his lower lip out just a little.
She laughed again. “What was the bet?”
His expression picked back up at the mention of the bet, and his dark eyes twinkled as he filled her in. “He bet me that I couldn’t catch food, thrown across the room by a stranger, in my mouth.”
She grimaced, and he held his hands up again. “Wait, don’t say no! The bet is that I can only ask one person, and I just asked you. Are you going to let me lose out on a bet that I can definitely win because you don’t want to throw a peanut across the room?”
She studied him closely as he reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out a peanut, still in its shell. Without deciding to, she was laughing at his goofy expression, at his chaotic energy, clearly tipsy and with pockets that contained at least one peanut.
“Don’t you want to see if I can do it?” He pleaded, rocking forward on his toes much in the way a child would. She was reminded of the way that she used to sing itsy-bitsy spider for her friends’ parents as a child. He was doing anything he could to charm her into agreeing to throw a peanut at him.
She held her hand out for the peanut. He gasped, quickly cracking open the shell before she changed her mind. He shoved the shell back into his pocket and grasped onto her hand with both hands as he handed her the peanut. “Thank you! You won’t regret it!”
He turned and ran across the room, and she quickly learned that she would regret it. Before she had an opportunity to veto the action, he was standing on a chair across the room, hands cupped around his mouth so everyone could hear him yelling over the music.
“Excuse me, fellow officers of the NYPD–– Can somebody shut off the music?” He paused, and someone cut the music. “Thank you.”
He was gaining a crowd now. Everyone in the room was looking at him.
“Once upon a time, in a land not far away at all, I was bet that I could not get a stranger to successfully throw a peanut across this room and into my mouth,” he began dramatically. There were snickers from the crowd. “That day…” he paused for emphasis, “is today.”
“My lovely partner,” he gestured across the room at her. Everyone turned to look at Amy. She waved half-heartedly, trying her hardest to avoid Rosa’s questioning gaze. He continued, “whomst will remain unnamed, will help me to achieve this insurmountable goal, with you all as our witness.”
She recognized Rosa’s laugh among the crowd. The man held up his hand. “For this to work, we’re going to need complete and total silence.” He waited until the crowd hushed. “Lovely partner,” he gestured to her, “whenever you’re ready.”
Someone began beating out a quiet drumroll sort of sound, and just as she was about to throw the peanut, he started gesturing for them to get louder. “Actually, drumroll definitely beats silence. Let’s go with that.”
She rolled her eyes and waited for him to look back at her, serenaded and only moderately distracted by the hundred or so pairs of hands beating on various surfaces around the room. She took a deep breath. It had been a while since she’d had to throw something across a room with great accuracy, and it was a much less daunting task before she had so many of her colleagues’ eyes on her. He nodded slightly toward her and offered up that goofy, genuine smile again.
She tossed the tiny peanut across the room, and much to her surprise, he caught it. The room erupted into cheers. The music immediately returned. The man threw his arms up in the air, appearing to do his best to not look surprised, then hopped off of his chair and made his way back to her. He looked like he was going to reach down and pick her up, but he caught himself and instead held his hand up for a high-five.
“Hey, we make a great team,” he shouted, offering that stupid smile that had her smiling back with just as much intensity, and her facial expressions weren’t sponsored by alcohol like his were, and she really needed to get a handle on herself.
From over the man’s shoulder, she could see Rosa looking at her with raised eyebrows, jaw slack and pointing at the man in a way that was more than suggestive. She knew exactly what Rosa was trying to get at, but that’s not what she came to Cop-Con for.
That’s definitely not what she came to Cop-Con for.
That’s what she kept telling herself, even as he was pressing her against the back of his hotel room door, fingers tangling in her hair while his other hand pulled her hips closer to him. She just kept repeating that thought, even as she welcomed his tongue into her mouth, tasted what appeared to be whipped cream flavored vodka (a questionable drink choice, but she wasn’t complaining).
She didn’t come for him.
But she was absolutely planning to.
She sighed softly into his mouth, earning a satisfied hum in response, both of them already working at each other’s buttons. She moved much more swiftly than him, and once he got half way done, he abandoned the buttons in favor of sliding his hands underneath her shirt. His hands felt warm as they grazed against her ribs, and it wasn’t long before he was reaching around her to unclasp that frustrating fabric. He pulled his hands away long enough to guide his shirt the rest of the way off, giving her enough time to pull her straps off of her arms and toss the bra to the floor.
He groaned as she pulled him back down to meet her in a kiss, repeating the sound when she bit down on his bottom lip. He dipped his head down in retaliation, trailing wet kisses from her jaw, down her neck, and ultimately focusing on her chest. Her fingers locked into his hair, back arching to meet him halfway as his tongue darted across her sensitive skin. He quickly unbuttoned the rest of her shirt, helping her to pull it off before his hands replaced his mouth.
She whimpered softly, hips drawing closer to him with every movement, every flick of his tongue on its way back up to her lips. She untangled her fingers from his short hair, moving them down to trace down his chest until she was toying with the button on his jeans, smiling against his lips at the sound building in the back of his throat. She’d felt him pressed hard against her thigh, and now she was running her palm over denim, laughing softly as he whined, keeping his eyes on her despite the disoriented look in his eyes.
He leaned down and lifted her onto his hips, returning his lips to hers as he walked her to the bed. She adjusted her hips, achieving a collective sigh when she found some friction there. He pressed her down into the bed, and she was sure from his soft inhale that she’d surprised them both with how quickly she’d unbuttoned his jeans.
After a quick lapse, he was kissing her again. She was tugging impatiently at his jeans until he broke the kiss to laugh. He helped her pull them down his hips before he kicked them to the floor unceremoniously. Before he had the opportunity to start laughing again, she had her fingers wrapped around him, coaxing his eyes shut tightly.
After what she would’ve described as some light teasing, he pulled back to kneel in front of her on the bed. He gripped the button on her jeans, and she sensed some of his trepidation. Her lips pulled into a smirk as she pushed his hand out of the way, unbuttoning her jeans herself and sliding them off of her legs.
He shook his head, looking her over. “You are so hot,” he whispered appreciatively, leaning back over her and tangling his fingers in her hair as he kissed her. She shrugged him away, busying her hands below his waistband and hoping he would follow her lead.
He mumbled a halfhearted plea for patience, then tugged her panties down her thighs, snaking his fingers between them and falling into a rhythm that was more perfect for her than she ever would have admitted, though he didn’t really need that confession to know that he was doing everything right. He had been more vocal than her since they’d stumbled into the room together, but now his focus left him nearly silent while his efforts had her humming and sighing around whispered fucks until she’d lost track of what she was doing altogether, fingers clutching desperately at his chest as she trembled around him.
When she opened her eyes, he was licking his fingers clean, eyebrows raised as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. He flashed her a quick smile, then laughed softly. “I didn’t think that would be so easy.”
She scoffed, moderately turned on by the way this near-stranger had her taste on his lips. That was the great thing about one-night-stands. She didn’t have to care if he thought it was weird that she wanted to share that taste with him. The thought didn’t even occur to her as she pushed him back against the bed. “You’re lucky I’m not done with you yet.”
He laughed again, louder this time. “Was that a threat? Because I might be into that.”
She raked her fingers through his hair as she kissed him, shifting until he was laying back against the bed, her hips grinding hard against his. He whined when she pushed herself back up and held his eye contact for a moment. “Do you have condoms?”
He scoffed. “Why would I bring condoms to cop con? This is a work-sponsored event,” he teased, grinning at her as he shifted to let his tongue explore her chest. He attempted to move around her to stand up, but she pushed him back against the bed again. He swallowed thickly, voice raspy when he spoke. “Side pocket on the duffel bag.”
She already had it unwrapped when she returned to the bed, and he groaned when she pumped him in her hand a few times before rolling it onto him, adjusting as necessary.
He was looking at her with undeniable desire, and she was sure that her expression greatly resembled his, but he grabbed softly at her thigh anyways, preventing her from straddling his hips. “Hey, are you sure?”
“I haven’t had a single drink tonight,” she reminded him, trying to ignore the strange mixture of feelings she felt at the gesture. “I’m sure.”
He laughed. “Oh, so you’re taking advantage of me, I see how it is.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Absolutely not,” he replied quickly, pulling his hand away from her thigh as if he had been burned.
She moved to straddle his hips, voice teasing as she hovered over him. “Because I can stop, if you want me to.”
She positioned him, taking extra care to drag him against her slowly, pulling a groan out of him. “Don’t stop,” he whispered.
She repeated the motion, smirking at him as his eyes fluttered shut. “What do you want?”
“I want you to fuck me,” he replied automatically, eyes trained back on her, hands sliding from her hips up to her ribs and back. She looked expectantly at him. “Please–”
His words were lost as she lowered herself down on him at that moment, unconcerned about the gentle moans that escaped her own lips at the sensation. She quickly worked her hips into a rhythm, hands pressed against his chest for leverage. His head was tipped back, stealing glances at her as often as he could manage before his eyes slid shut again. His grip on her waist tightened and loosened, sometimes pulling her down with a little more force than she was using. Each time he did it, she wished she’d had the foresight to ask his name. She was sure that whatever it was, it would’ve sounded great in that moment.
After a moment, he adjusted so that he was pressing her back against the bed again. He drew his hips forward, pushing her further into the mattress with each movement. She hadn’t realized how much she had been missing his lips until they were on hers again, gentle, but strong. He whimpered against her lips as she rocked against him, arching her back to give him a better angle.
He pushed her hair out of her face, cradling her jaw as he kissed her. It was a move that felt all too intimate, even given their current state, and she only had one idea on how to make the move away from the intimacy that she was not seeking in this interaction.
She turned her head to break the kiss, gasping out a soft, breathy, “Harder.”
He groaned quietly, a reflex before he obliged her request, hands on her hips to pull himself to her harder, faster. She repeated the word until she was gripping onto him harder, her words getting lost in shaky sighs as his movements became more erratic. A few moments later, his face was in her neck, sighing along with her around kisses. They were kissing again as his hips drove forward the last few times, slow and sure and encouraging the soft moan that left her lips, his pulling into a self-satisfied smile in response.
It occurred to her in a different way, as he resumed kissing her once he’d disposed of the condom, that this was not what she came here for. This was not one-night-stand sex, at least she didn’t think it was. It’s not like she had a ton of experience with it, but gentle kisses and holding her face and the way he pulled the sheets onto them, tracing shapes onto her lower back with his fingertips. The way he was looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place, but she could easily tell that it was not appropriate for someone who should want her to promptly go back to her own room. Was it adoration?
But that couldn’t be right, because they’d just met each other and they didn’t even know the other’s name. It was an expression brought about by the very personal thing they’d just done together, not by anything else. But when he reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, she couldn’t stay quiet anymore.
“What are you doing?”
He laughed. “This is the Jake Peralta experience. That’s my name, by the way, since you never asked.” He raised his eyebrows, seemingly waiting for her to return the favor and tell him her name.
She nodded, then pulled out of his arms. He sat up on the bed, sheet draped around his waist, and she only glanced at the hair dusting his chest for a second before her eyes snapped back up to his face. He watched her silently as she collected her clothes from around the room. She pulled her jeans onto her legs first, then clasped her bra behind her back before she turned back to face him.
“It’s getting late, and I have that early seminar…” She trailed off, working on quickly fastening the buttons on her blouse.
He hummed understandingly. When she looked at him, it looked like he had something to say, but he just closed his mouth and watched her. She was grateful that he was aware enough to not suggest that she stay in his room, a suggestion that would’ve made this more uncomfortable for both of them.
She smiled halfheartedly, shrugging her shoulders as she walked toward the door. “This was… fun.”
He nodded. “Mhm.”
She felt a little bad. She wasn’t sure how people did this sort of thing all the time, and she was making a mental note that maybe this wasn’t her thing after all. She had her hand on the doorknob when he finally spoke.
“Wait–” she turned to look back at him, hand still on the doorknob. “What’s your name?”
She smiled at him in a way that she hoped came off as playful, then she turned and walked out the door wordlessly. On the other side of the door, she took a deep breath, running her hand through her hair. This was not how she thought this weekend was going to go and–
Fuck.
Her panties were on his floor. And she couldn’t go back and get them now, after she’d just fucked him and walked out of his room without even telling him her name. She closed her eyes as she made a break for the elevator.
She loved Cop-Con. But something had her feeling like she’d just made a mistake. She came here to be a professional, to interact with colleagues that she didn’t have the opportunity to see often. When she said interact, she meant talk to.
She definitely interacted with Jake Peralta.
—
Jake was standing in the lobby looking around. There was one person he was looking for––well, really two people, if you counted the stranger who’d suggested that they go back to his room last night, only for her to leave in the least graceful way imaginable immediately after they had sex. The other person, the person he was really looking for, was Rosa.
He’d seen the mystery girl with Rosa earlier in the day yesterday, and he assumed they were from the same precinct. He wasn’t sure what precinct Rosa was with, because she was scary and private, but he was sure that she at least knew the woman’s name. So he waited in the lounge, ignoring his urge to play with the weapons displays, and watched for her.
After twenty minutes that felt more like four hours, he smiled as he saw a tall woman with dark curls step into the lobby.
“Rosa!”
She turned to look at him, her resting expression quickly moving to a knowing smirk. “Jake. You have a good night? You looked a little on the not-sober side yesterday.”
He raised his eyebrows as he walked toward her. “That’s one way to put it. Surprisingly the hangover is only at about a four, so I call that a win.”
She raised her eyebrows to match his expression. “I saw you leave with Santiago last night.”
Santiago.
“Uh… yeah,” he rubbed at the corner of his mouth quickly, trying to stifle the smile that was threatening to make itself known. “That’s actually why I was looking for you. Have you seen her?”
“Amy? No, she didn’t stay with you?”
He laughed quietly. “No, she made a break for it immediately after–” he paused, blinking at Rosa.
“Just say ‘sexy timez,’” Rosa added with an eye roll.
“Sexy timez,” he mumbled.
Rosa laughed too. “I can’t believe she had a one night stand. With you.”
Jake crossed his arms in mock offense. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” Rosa shrugged. “Look, you were my partner in the academy, and she’s been my partner since we made detective. I know you both pretty well. You’re just very different people.”
“I just wanted to talk to her before we all left,” Jake continued.
Rosa looked down at her watch. “Oh yeah, she had that handshake seminar thing at nine. You had to RSVP to get in, but we both know that doesn’t mean anything to you.”
He smirked proudly, turning toward a sign that had all the times and locations for presentations on it. “Thanks, Diaz.”
Rosa elbowed him as she moved to step past. “Don’t annoy her too much. I’m gonna have to listen to her on the drive home.”
He laughed and gave her a quick wave before he made his way down the correct hallway, toward the handshake seminar. It was already 9:15, and he expected the door to be locked, but it wasn’t. When he stepped in silently, he went unnoticed. The room was practically full, but he spotted a few empty spots at the front.
Great. He’d have to walk all the way to the front, which meant that he’d definitely be noticed.
Although…
If Amy Santiago was the opposite of him, just like Rosa had said, that probably meant she was sitting toward the front anyway. He shrugged and tried to make his way to the front of the dark auditorium as inconspicuously as possible. When he got there, he found that Rosa was absolutely right. One of the empty seats he had spotted from the back was directly next to none other than the mystery woman herself, Amy Santiago.
He sat down next to her wordlessly, laughing quietly as she turned to look at the person sitting next to her, turned her head back toward the front, then quickly snapped her head back toward him as realization dawned on her.
“What are you doing here?” She whispered.
He shushed her, keeping his focus on the speaker.
“Peralta,” she whispered more sternly.
He turned to look at her. “Awh, you remembered.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m trying to hear a seminar on how to get a better handshake. What are you doing here?”
She rolled her eyes and he laughed again.
“Who tries to have a one night stand with someone they know is going to be in the same place as them the next day?”
“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” she replied matter of factly.
He stared at her, gesturing around them. “You didn’t know I was going to be here, but you knew I was going to be here. Cop-Con.”
She groaned quietly. The person on her left shushed her, causing Jake to cover his mouth to hide his laughter. “Oh my god. Come on,” she hissed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him with her out of the auditorium.
He laughed louder once they made it back to the lobby. “Amy, you’re gonna miss your seminar.”
“I’ve already been to a firm handshake seminar,” she replied with a scoff. She scrunched her eyebrows up as she replayed his words in her head. “How do you know my name?”
“Rosa mentioned it.”
“You know Rosa?”
He nodded quickly. “Yeah, she was my partner in the academy.” He answered her question with a dismissive wave, shooting back a question of his own. “You already went to a firm handshake seminar? And you chose to miss the Buffalo PD party and get up early to go to another one?”
“It was a different speaker,” Amy defended herself firmly, but he caught the pink tint on her cheeks. “What do you want?”
He shrugged. “I thought maybe we could talk before we leave.”
She sighed. “Jake, isn’t this the opposite of what a one night stand is supposed to be?”
He tilted his head to the side. “Yeaaaah, but I thought maybe it would be cool if we could be friends or–”
She put her hands up, stopping him. “We’re not going to be friends.” He raised an eyebrow at her, and she continued. “What kind of friendship starts with ‘oh yeah, we met at a party and fucked. Now we’re best friends.’”
He laughed. “Woah, Santiago. Language!” She rolled her eyes as he laughed. “I never said anything about best friends.” She rolled her eyes again and turned to walk away. “Wait, c’mon. I’m just saying, I don’t plan on leaving the NYPD anytime soon, do you?”
“No, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“I’ve seen you around at NYPD events before this, and I assume we’re going to bump into each other again after this. We might as well be friends, so it isn’t awkward.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t have to be awkward. We just don’t talk.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible.”
She sighed. “Look, we had sex once. That can just be all it is.”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to say,” he continued. “We can be friends, last night didn’t mean anything.”
“It didn’t mean anything to me, either.”
“Great, then we’re on the same page–”
“No, we’re not on the same page, because you want to be friends and I don’t think we need to be.”
“Alright, fine. You’re right, we’ll probably only see each other a couple times a year anyway. I work at the nine-nine, and obviously I don’t–”
“You work at the nine-nine?” Amy interrupted, her interest clearly piqued.
He raised an eyebrow, speaking slowly. “Yeah… Why?”
“Raymond Holt is your captain?”
Jake nodded slowly, and she opened her mouth to speak, a sort of light in her eyes that he hadn’t previously noticed. But then she clamped her mouth back shut and shook her head. “That’s cool. Anyways, I’ll see you around.”
“Uh… Yeah, okay. See you around, Santiago.”
He watched as she walked away, shaking his head to himself. She was probably right. They might not even see each other again. Why force a friendship? She might not even be from around Brooklyn.
He shrugged as he headed back up to his room to collect his things. At least Cop Con wasn’t a complete bust.
Buffalo PD had thrown better parties in previous years, but this one had been pretty good. He had fun. He made fifty bucks off of that bet with Charles, he got to try out some pretty cool things at the weapons exhibit.
He reached down to pick up his phone charger, tossed to the floor after he’d accidentally tugged it out of the wall that morning. That’s when he saw them.
A pair of lacy, black underwear. The same pair that he’d tugged off of Amy Santiago’s hips, that she’d kicked to the floor as she settled on his hips the night before. He shook the image of her, hands tangled in her hair as she rolled her hips to meet him, out of his head.
He stared at them for a moment, unsure of what to do with them. He wasn’t going to see her again, at least not outside of a work event… So it’s not like he could return them to her with no phone number. He shook his head again, images returning to his awareness. It would be a shame for her to lose half of that set.
He sighed heavily, grabbing them and tossing them into his suitcase. He’d just throw them away or something, he didn’t want whatever housekeeper that had to tend to this room when he left to have to find someone’s underwear. He figured that was something that happened semi-often, and if he could be the reason somebody didn’t have to touch a stranger’s underwear, he was doing his part for the day in making the world a better place.
“You ready?” Charles asked from outside his door, knocking lightly.
“Coming!” Jake replied, tugging the zipper shut on his suitcase.
And so the countdown to next Cop Con begins...