i made a $5 donation, I'd really like Nick/Schmidt - Nick finding excuses to kiss Schmidt after the "gay nick" episode because he decided he liked it
Yay! Also, I’m going to write another fic about them getting forced to kiss during a game of True American for SURE.
(You, too, can get a guaranteed ficlet by donating $1 or more to Fair Fight 2020 to fight voter suppression!)
It wasn’t even a good kiss.
And Nick’s kisses are normally very good kisses because he’s very good at kissing. It’s one of his few talents. That’s probably why he can’t stop thinking about how bad kissing Schmidt was and whether Schmidt thought that it was bad because—he’s not completely sure that Schmidt wouldn’t go around talking about it.
It could hurt Nick’s kissing reputation which he just can’t afford now that he’s on the dating scene again. Back in the saddle. As it were.
That’s definitely the only reason he’s thinking about kissing Schmidt. Proving himself.
He can’t think of another one.
*
“You want to kiss Schmidt,” Jess says, slowly.
“I need you to support me in this,” Nick says. “It’s so I can sleep with women.”
“. . .back that up,” Jess says, making a face.
Nick sighs and explains it again. It’s a simple idea: kiss Schmidt so he knows how good that he is and then Schmidt will tell everyone because that’s who he is as a person. He talks—all the time and, a lot of the time, it’s about Nick.
“Are you sure you don’t want to kiss Schmidt,” Jess asks, cautiously, “because you—I mean, want to kiss Schmidt?”
“That’s insane,” Nick says. “You sound insane right now.”
Jess is quiet for a long moment, face going kind of soft and weird like she’s going to make him talk about feelings, but she just reaches over to tousle his hair and say, “Alright, buddy. Let’s rig us a game of True American.”
Jess is the smartest person that Nick has ever met.
*
“So,” Schmidt says, shuffling on his feet when the door is shut behind them. “We doing this?”
“It’s the game, man,” Nick says, as calmly as he can.
“We could just say we did it,” Schmidt says. “It’s not like we haven’t technically kissed before. I can—roughly describe it.”
“. . .how would you describe it, exactly?” Nick asks.
“Eh,” Schmidt says, after a beat, shrugging.
Nick’s already drunk as hell and he’s here to win.
“Stay right there,” he says, pointing at Schmidt before he immediately turning to go to the bathroom and frantically brush his teeth. He stares at himself in the mirror for a few seconds before wiping toothpaste off his mouth with the back of his hand and immediately going back to grab Schmidt’s face and kiss him.
Really kiss him. Schmidt makes a surprised noise and almost pulls away before he pulls Nick closer instead, clutching the back of his shirt. Nick didn’t actually know what he thought was going to happen—he so rarely knows, before he does something, what the consequences will be—but it wasn’t this. They stumble backward until Schmidt’s back is pressed against the wall and Nick is catching his breath, breathing the kiss with a gasp.
“Nick,” Schmidt says, softly. “What in the world—”
“It was for the game,” Nick says. Something about actually hearing Schmidt’s voice when he can also feel Schmidt’s breath on his face sobers him up a little. “I’m a man of my word.”
"Okay. Sure. You know, for what it’s worth,” Schmidt says, “I, uh--I get it now.”
“Get what?”
“The. . .Nick Miller thing,” Schmidt says. “The appeal. I’ve never been kissed like that before, like you were about to go off to war in the--in the forties.”
“. . .I really wanted you to know that I’m a good kisser, Schmidt,” Nick says, faintly.
“I mean, message received, clearly, but--why?”
Nick really thought he had answers but nothing makes sense anymore so he just. Kisses Schmidt again. To distract him.
Definitely the only reason.