A Happy New Year
Summary: While awkwardly navigating a friend’s New Year’s party, you and John cross paths for the first time. Pairing: John Krasinski x Reader Word Count: 1895 Warnings: Celebratory/social drinking.
A/N: Okay, here it. My first posted John Krasinski fic! I’ve been a fan of this guy for longer than I realized, but the crisis recently took over. As I mentioned before, I’m known in the other fandoms for writing fluffy, cliche fics ... and this is just that. I hope you all enjoy it - I have a part two planned, if you do! Please reblog if you feel so inclined, as I would love for as many people to read this as possible :)
Tags: @professorkrasinski @booklover1814 (Thanks for agreeing to be tagged!)
The house was already bustling with people by the time you arrived — late, as usual. You hung your coat in the closet in the entryway and smoothed out your comfy sweater. The party had been deemed casual, but you knew your friend and her other friends well enough to know that a t-shirt and a ponytail just weren’t going to do the trick. You still had opted for a nice pair of jeans and boots, but you made sure your hair and makeup were done to impress.
You searched through the house for the hostess, and finally found her pouring drinks in the kitchen. You snuck one from the row of glass tumblers and winked at her.
“You’re here!” she squealed, setting down the bottle of Southern Comfort and coming around the island to hug you tightly. “I’m so happy to see you, I forgive you for snagging that drink.”
You giggled and returned the embrace with one arm. “Happy New Year to you, too. There’s so many people here!”
She finished pouring the drinks then put them on a tray. She nodded with her head for you to follow her, so you did.
“It’s the first time Chris and I are hosting a holiday together, and I’m having multiple anxiety attacks,” she sighed, handing drinks off as she went. “He’s got a million people on the guest list. I had you and like a handful of other people, most of which decided to stay in Jersey instead of coming to Boston.”
You raised your brow. “So I know nobody here but you? Ash …”
She gripped your arm tight. “Please, Y/N. I’m begging you. Stick with me through this — I’m freaking out over here!”
Though you weren’t crazy about the crowd or not knowing anyone, Ashley was your best friend. For that reason only, you knocked back the majority of the contents in the glass you had swiped not that long ago and told her you were going to need some beer.
“Not a problem. I’ll get you a beer, and we’ll just stick together for the rest of the night.”
That, of course, lasted all of about five minutes. You were tossing the cap from your beer bottle into the trash and when you turned around, Ashley was off with Chris’s arm around her. She was smiling and laughing; you just chuckled to yourself. She’d come find you later. Hopefully.
You sipped at your beer and meandered through the party, recognizing a few people here and there from around the city, but no one that you knew well enough to stop and talk to. So, you continued to meander.
When you had first moved to Boston, you used to walk by this house and wonder who lived here, what the inside was like. Then, Ashley had started dating Chris and your questions had all been answered. She still lived in New Jersey, but she came down as often as she could to see him. Sometimes, when you got bored, you’d call Chris and see if he was bored and the two of you would hang out. It was only because of those visits that you recognized a few of his friends here and there.
Teasing yourself about being a Disney character, you found the library and quietly began to browse the titles that lined the shelves. Old and new, tattered and worn or in mint condition. Ashley had told you about this room before, but you hadn’t believed the amazingness of it until now.
Your fingers floated over the spines of the hardback books until a particular title caught your eyes. Still holding the longneck in one hand, you pulled the book from the shelf and skimmed over the first few pages.
“If you haven’t read that book, you should. It’s one of my favorites.”
The voice in the doorway called your attention away from the page you were reading. Quickly, you shut the book and placed it back in its proper spot on the shelf.
“I don’t know if I’m supposed to be in here, but I don’t really know anyone so I was wandering the house. I live here and before Ashley started dating Chris, and I used to wonder what it was like on the inside, and then she told me about the library — that’s a run-on sentence. And I’m rambling.”
“You are,” the tall, vaguely familiar stranger nodded, but with a charmed laugh to accompany his comment. “And it was. I didn’t mean to spook you by the way. I noticed the light on and wanted away from the crowd myself. I’m John, by the way.”
He stepped into the room, extending his hand to shake yours. You wiped your hand on your jeans before slipping your hand firmly into his. His sudden presence had made you nervous, and in reaction, your palms had become slightly clammy. That was the last thing you wanted to pass on to this handsome guy. Then, you realized.
“John,” you repeated, “John Krasinski. You’re the guy from that show …”
“The Office,” he offered with another amused smile. “Been a while since someone didn’t recognize me right off. Refreshing.”
You winced. “I’m sorry, I’m really horrible about watching new shows. I stick with Grey’s Anatomy and older shows, more or less.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, but Ashley burst into the room. “Y/N! There you are! We’re starting beer pong. Let’s go! Oh, John, you can be Chris’s partner!”
She took you by the hand and dragged you away. You weren’t entirely sure that John was in tow until he appeared beside Chris on the other side of the beer pong table.
After a short tournament of three games, you and Ashley were declared the winners. There was no way you’d be getting back home in this state, but Ashley assured you that she had reserved a guest room for you. Since that was the case, you grabbed another bottle of beer and wandered back to the library.
This time, you were only along for a few seconds before John showed up again. He greeted you by name and clinked his glass tumbler with your beer bottle.
“Congrats on the win. Thank goodness Ashley said your name when she came to get you earlier. I wasn’t sure you’d give it to me otherwise.”
“I would have, eventually,” you assured. “I was nervous. Maybe. Tipsy, for sure.”
John nodded. “Can I show you something?”
Chewing on your bottom lip, you considered him carefully. You didn’t know him other than the fact that he was Chris’s friend. You were, however, just tipsy enough to slip your hand into his, leave your beer where it was, and allow him to lead you to the front closet. He waited patiently while you bundled up, then took you by the hand again and led you out to the sidewalk.
A few blocks down, John tugged your hand to the left, across the calm street. Snow was starting to fall and the temperature seemed to be dropping by the hour. That didn’t stop you from excitedly following him through his loft apartment, out to the balcony. He left you there for a moment to admire the view, but came back with a big, flannel blanket.
“That’s Fenway Park!” you exclaimed. “You can see this from your balcony? Like you just wake up every day and see the Green Monster?”
“I do. Ashley mentioned before how much you love the Red Sox.” John confirmed, wrapping one end of the blanket around you, and the other around himself. He pulled you in front of him so that he could pull both side of the blanket tight around the two of you — not an easy feat considering the height difference. “Are you warm enough? Can you see over the stadium okay?”
You nodded, leaning back into him. A part of you couldn’t believe this was happening; not one bit of it. Here you were, in this crazy romantic setting on New Year’s Eve, with a guy so far out of your league, it was like you were playing coach pitch and he was in the majors. The other part of you, though, the part with inhibitions lowered thanks to the beers, decided to drink it all in and let it happen.
At the stroke of midnight, fireworks exploded over Fenway Park. You drew in a deep breath and watched in wonder as the colors lit up the sky. Even through the snow, the fireworks continued.
When they finally ended, John opened the slider so you could get inside and get warm. He shook the snow from the blanket, then hurried inside himself. You took a deep breath and shrugged.
“What now?”
“Now,” John replied, almost as though he was deciding even as he spoke, “I make you your favorite breakfast, and you tell me more about yourself.”
“Breakfast? At midnight?”
John nodded. “It’ll head off the hangover. I’ll tell you more about me. Maybe we’ll even watch The Office.”
You giggled and unzipped your coat. You laid it carefully over the arm of the chair, and slipped your shoes off, too. “French toast. And bacon. Please.”
John didn’t just smile this time; he grinned.
While John cooked, you sipped at a tasty cup of coffee and told him about your life: where you had grown up, what made you decide to move to Boston, and how strongly you felt that you should have been in this city your whole life.
“It is a pretty great place,” John agreed. “And what do you do for a living?”
You filled him in on that information while he plated a few pieces of French toast and bacon for each of you. When he sat across from you, you clapped excitedly; you hadn’t realized how hungry you were until food was an option.
“Your turn,” you encouraged with a cheek full of French toast. “Tell me how you got to this point in your life.”
The next hour or so, the two of you filled your bellies and filled each other in on your basic life information. After you helped John with the dishes, the two of you sat on the couch. You were getting sleepy, so he offered the same blanket from the balcony, took a seat next to you, and covered both of you with the blanket. You leaned your head against his shoulder, and John put an arm around you. His hand landed at your hip. You were warm and cozy and fighting sleep in a matter of minutes.
“I wanna see you again, but my life gets pretty crazy these days,” John told you quietly.
You adjusted so your cheek was against his chest and nodded. “It’s okay. I’m having a great night, but I’m not sure I’m ready to be in any sort of limelight.”
John kissed the top of your head. “Guess we’ll just have to be secret lovers then.”
You responded with a sleepy chuckle. The kiss on your head had left you wanting more, so you tilted your chin up to him. “Happy New Year, John.”
“Happy New Year, Y/N.”
Your lips met John’s halfway. That first contact was so soft and sweet, you were still feeling the butterflies when you took a cab home several hours later.
