ORIGINAL: "I COULD FALL IN LOVE" - HET
Warnings for being way over the word limit. Please forgive! And also for sappiness. Somehow I got to listening to Erasure, which only leads to sappiness. And feeling like you're stuck in an 80's dance club...
Summary: Charlotte's neighbor is like a big child. But he's also really hot and writes erotic fiction. Hmmm....
"I could fall in love with you," Jeremy sighed as he slid further into the couch, humming gleefully as he licked his spoon for ever last drop of pudding.
"Feet off the coffee table," Charlotte muttered without looking up from her computer. She ignored the small jolt her heart gave at her neighbor's words and instead focused on her spreadsheet, scowling slightly.
Jeremy snickered but obeyed, dropping his feet to the ground where he toed off his heavy boots. That accomplished, he sprawled across the couch, longlegs stretching over the opposite armrest. Comfortable, he continued focusing on his chocolate pudding, thoughtfully planning the best way to get the last bit of creamy goodness out of the mug.
"No really," he said enthusiastically. "If you promised to feed me like this every day, I'd totally fall in love with you. Don't you believe me?" He batted his eyelashes at her over the rim of the mug as he swiped the inside with his tongue.
Charlotte rolled her eyes and pretended that those lashes had no effect on her. Those long, dark lashes that matched his inky hair. Which totally did not look completely hot spiked and gelled Nope. Not hot at all.
"Seriously, Jeremy, I don’t think there's anything left in that cup!" she snapped, setting her computer on the coffee table and rising. She brushed past him, ignoring his hurt look, and entered the kitchen where she began sifting through her drawers until she found a packet of peppermint tea. She grabbed a cup from the cabinet plopped the tea bag in it.
"If you're done with that cup, remember to put it in the dishwasher," she called as she waited for her tea to heat in the microwave. She heard Jeremy mumble something in response, but it sounded particularly noncommittal. The microwave beeped, though, before she could yell at him again.
She grabbed her tea and returned to the living room, smacking Jeremy on the back of the head as she passed. "Dishwasher!" she ordered, pointing to the cup and spoon that he had set on the floor. "And don't forget to rinse it first."
"Really?" he whined even as he stood and trudged into the kitchen. "Why do I have to rinse it first? Isn't that what the dishwasher is for?"
Charlotte sighed and settled back into her chair. "Yes, but if it dries like that and sits too long in the dishwasher before I run it, it'll get all crusty and won't come completely clean." She pulled a hair tie off of her wrist and reached up to pull back her hair, not bothering to smooth it. She had lived with Jeremy for a year now, and he was used to seeing her lounge around in pajamas. Prettying her hair wasn't going to do much for her looks at this point.
It really wasn't like it mattered what she looked like, anyway. From the first day she had moved into the apartment and Jeremy had strolled in without knocking, she had known she had no chance. He had walked into her bedroom, where she had been rocking out to bad Erasure music and unpacking what seemed like the hundredth box. Charlotte had been too tired and startled to do more than gape at him for a long moment. Then the hotness had registered. All tall, lanky, six feet four of him. Black hair falling haphazardly into his pretty, pretty brown eyes. Oh, boys should not have eyes that pretty.
And how had she looked at that moment? Sweaty. Mousy hair tied back, tank top torn and paint-stained, sweat shorts sowing off the fact that she hadn't shaved at all that week. She had been the complete opposite of hot-at least in the colloquial sense.
But he had just grinned at her and grabbed a box of books to start looking through, introducing himself as her neighbor absently. He didn't help put them away, of course. Oh no. She had quickly learned that Jeremy and organization only knew each other in theory. By the time they had parted that night most of the boxes had been unpacked, but all of the items had simply been strewn around her apartment.
Barely a day had gone by in the past year when he hadn't wandered into her apartment. Sometimes he took over her TV for hours-he refused to buy his own-watching game shows and old reruns of Spanish soap operas. Other times he brought his laptop and wrote while she worked. It took her exactly one month to figure out that the novels he wrote were romantic in nature. Erotically romantic, to be exact. She'd gone to bed blushing every night the week she'd found out.
"Whatcha doing?" Jeremy's voice brought her back to the present, and she looked up to find Jeremy standing over her.
"Work," she said, stating the obvious.
He sighed and grabbed her laptop before she could protest, setting it down on the coffee table carefully before plopping across her lap and wrapping his arms around her neck.
Charlotte grunted and shifted to get more comfortable. He was skinny-probably only 170 pounds on his tall frame, but that was still a lot of weight on her thighs. "What are you doing, Jeremy? I have to finish these reconciliations tonight."
He laid his head on her shoulder. "But it's Saturday, Char! Nobody should work at-" he sat up and grabbed her wrist to peer at her watch-"8:00 on a Saturday night. That's the perfect time to dance. Or drink. Or do something that isn't work."
Charlotte just shook her head. "Maybe for you, but I really need to get this done this weekend. And anyways, don't you have somewhere you should be? Some pretty young thing to prey on?" She let her arms wrap loosely around his waist and leaned back to rest her head on the back of the chair.
"Nope. Not tonight. I already had dinner, thanks to your fantastic cooking. I'm not sure how an accountant got to be such a good cook. I'm just glad you made the decision to move into an apartment right next to mine." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Do you think we could take out a wall and just connect our places?" He settled himself a little more comfortably and sighed in contentment.
Charlotte frowned at him , then began wiggling her legs. "Come on. Up. You may not care about responsibility, but I do." She shoved a knee up into the thing that rested across her lap and Jeremy yelped in surprise before climbing off. He glared at her petulantly, but settled himself back on the couch.
Charlotte reached for her laptop again and set to work. She looked up from her spreadsheet a few moments later to find Jeremy watching her, a strangely pensive look on his face. "What?" she asked.
He shook his head a little and frowned. It was an odd expression. He almost always had some sort of smile on his face. The look of concentration made her slightly uncomfortable. "What?" she asked again, letting a little irritation creep into her voice as she stared at him.
"Hmmm." I was just thinking that it's true. I could totally fall in love with you."
Charlotte just puffed out a small sigh and glared. "Well anyway, Sam came by earlier asking for your rent money," she said. "I told him you'd get it to him by Monday. I know you have the check written, Jeremy. I wrote it myself. All you had to do was sign the damn thing and stick it in the slot. So what happened?" She raised her eyebrows and stared at him until he started to squirm a little.
"It might still be on my dresser," he admitted sheepishly. "I'll sign it and give it to him first thing Monday." His eyes narrowed. "You're changing the subject, though."
Charlotte rolled her eyes. "I'm not avoiding you. I’m ignoring you." She studiously looked at her screen, focusing on the columns and rows of numbers. She could hear him shift closer, moving down the couch until he was sitting next to her chair.
"Why are you ignoring me?" he asked curiously.
Charlotte finished her formula and hit the F9 key to update her data. "Because I don't have time for this game, Jeremy. I was serious. I have to get this shit done this weekend, and I'd like to be able to enjoy myself tomorrow."
She heard him move again and saw him lean closer out of the corner of her eyes. "I'm not playing games, though," he said cheerfully. "I think I could really fall in love with you. In fact, I think I might already-"
"Enough." Charlotte stood, closing her laptop with a snap. She stet it on the coffee table and walked back to the kitchen, refusing to look at the surprised "O" of Jeremy's face. Enough was enough. She had as good a sense of humor as anyone. Better than most accountants she knew. But she wasn't going to put up with Jeremy's teasing. She wasn't in the mood.
She began fiercely scrubbing the pots she'd used to make dinner, letting the scalding water spray over her hands. She jerked in surprise when she felt him come up behind her and touch her shoulder.
"Charlotte? Why'd you walk away? I wasn't done talking." The dumbass actually sounded hurt.
She shut the water off and reached for a dish towel to dry the pot. When she thought she could manage it, she raised her gaze to look at him. "Jeremy," she said slowly , as though speaking to a child. "You don't love me."
He gave her an offended look and shook his head. "How do you know?"
"Because I know. You love me like a child would love their mother. I make sure you’re fed, that your bills are paid on time, that all your deadlines are met, and that nothing too toxic is growing in your apartment. I'm the one you watch movies on the couch with, not the one you take on dates." She shook her head in frustration. "I'm nothing like the girls you bring home, dear. I'm the complete opposite."
"First of all," he countered immediately, "I don't love you like I do my mom. Because that's just eww." He hurried to continue before she could interrupt. "Andy why can't you be both?"
"Both?" she asked, confused. "Both what?"
"Both the person I watch movies on the couch with and the one I take on dates," he said patiently. She realized suddenly that he had maneuvered them so that she was pressed against the counter, trapped from moving by his body. She glared fiercely and raised her hands to press against his chest, pushing him away. And no, that chest absolutely did not feel amazing under her palms.
"Enough. Really. I have work to do and you have dates to go on. Playtime is over." She ducked a little so she could slide past him, but he grabbed her at the last second, pulling her against him.
She stiffened as he wrapped his arms around her. "If you're not interested, you can just say so," he reassured her as he tucked Charlotte close. "But you shouldn't keep accusing me of joking. It's not nice."
She whimpered a little and worked very hard not to melt against him. "Jeremy…" she trailed off.
"You know, it's true that I like it that you take care of me. No one else has before. No one's really cared if I'm eating well or if my bills are paid on time. Nobody else lets me babble on and on about silly things. No one else will watch bad 80's fantasy movies with me. They just want to sleep with me."
Charlotte quietly tried to figure out when she had fallen asleep. Or gotten very drunk. "You can have that without being in love," she reminded him. She wasn't sure why she was fighting so hard against him, except that she didn't want Jeremy to wake up in a week or two or three and realize he'd been mistaken.
"Silly Charlotte," he said fondly. "You don't want to kiss your friends."
He pulled away enough that he could bend down and show her exactly what a writer of erotic fiction was capable of. Any sort of protest she had prepared melted away. She closed her eyes and concentrated on Jeremy's lips. His mouth tasted like chocolate pudding, and his lips were soft and tasted ever so slightly of mint. He had been in to her chap stick again.
He finally pulled away, and she valiantly tried to convince herself that her heart was racing from lack of air. She opened her eyes, though, and found him smiling happily down at her.
Charlotte gave a loud sigh. "What?" he asked worriedly, smile disappearing. "What's wrong? Was it bad? Was I wrong? You don't love me, too?"
He began to pull away, and she was a little shocked to see how absolutely devastated he looked before he turned his head.
"Wait." She grabbed his arms and dug her fingers in. "Wait a sec. You love me?" she asked incredulously. "Since when?"
Jeremy ducked his head a little, and she could swear she saw embarrassment on his face. But the entire idea was preposterous, because Jeremy was never embarrassed.
"For a while now," he admitted, a small glimmer of hope appearing in his eyes. "It just never seemed a good time to bring it up." He shrugged sheepishly.
Charlotte eyed him long and hard. Jeremy looked back, smiling faintly. She briefly considered all the possible negatives of dating her neighbor Her very attractive, intelligent, funny neighbor. Who wrote erotic fiction. True, he was like a large child, but she had spent the past year taking care of him anyway, so really what would change there?
Jeremy suddenly gave her a brilliant smile. "you just realized the benefits of dating me outweigh the negatives, didn't you?" he asked, perhaps a little smugly.
She gave an inelegant snort. "You talk too much. If you'd prefer, we can go back into the living room and I can do some more work-" She barely had time to gasp a breath before he was kissing her again.
Summary: Charlotte's neighbor is like a big child. But he's also really hot and writes erotic fiction. Hmmm....
"I could fall in love with you," Jeremy sighed as he slid further into the couch, humming gleefully as he licked his spoon for ever last drop of pudding.
"Feet off the coffee table," Charlotte muttered without looking up from her computer. She ignored the small jolt her heart gave at her neighbor's words and instead focused on her spreadsheet, scowling slightly.
Jeremy snickered but obeyed, dropping his feet to the ground where he toed off his heavy boots. That accomplished, he sprawled across the couch, longlegs stretching over the opposite armrest. Comfortable, he continued focusing on his chocolate pudding, thoughtfully planning the best way to get the last bit of creamy goodness out of the mug.
"No really," he said enthusiastically. "If you promised to feed me like this every day, I'd totally fall in love with you. Don't you believe me?" He batted his eyelashes at her over the rim of the mug as he swiped the inside with his tongue.
Charlotte rolled her eyes and pretended that those lashes had no effect on her. Those long, dark lashes that matched his inky hair. Which totally did not look completely hot spiked and gelled Nope. Not hot at all.
"Seriously, Jeremy, I don’t think there's anything left in that cup!" she snapped, setting her computer on the coffee table and rising. She brushed past him, ignoring his hurt look, and entered the kitchen where she began sifting through her drawers until she found a packet of peppermint tea. She grabbed a cup from the cabinet plopped the tea bag in it.
"If you're done with that cup, remember to put it in the dishwasher," she called as she waited for her tea to heat in the microwave. She heard Jeremy mumble something in response, but it sounded particularly noncommittal. The microwave beeped, though, before she could yell at him again.
She grabbed her tea and returned to the living room, smacking Jeremy on the back of the head as she passed. "Dishwasher!" she ordered, pointing to the cup and spoon that he had set on the floor. "And don't forget to rinse it first."
"Really?" he whined even as he stood and trudged into the kitchen. "Why do I have to rinse it first? Isn't that what the dishwasher is for?"
Charlotte sighed and settled back into her chair. "Yes, but if it dries like that and sits too long in the dishwasher before I run it, it'll get all crusty and won't come completely clean." She pulled a hair tie off of her wrist and reached up to pull back her hair, not bothering to smooth it. She had lived with Jeremy for a year now, and he was used to seeing her lounge around in pajamas. Prettying her hair wasn't going to do much for her looks at this point.
It really wasn't like it mattered what she looked like, anyway. From the first day she had moved into the apartment and Jeremy had strolled in without knocking, she had known she had no chance. He had walked into her bedroom, where she had been rocking out to bad Erasure music and unpacking what seemed like the hundredth box. Charlotte had been too tired and startled to do more than gape at him for a long moment. Then the hotness had registered. All tall, lanky, six feet four of him. Black hair falling haphazardly into his pretty, pretty brown eyes. Oh, boys should not have eyes that pretty.
And how had she looked at that moment? Sweaty. Mousy hair tied back, tank top torn and paint-stained, sweat shorts sowing off the fact that she hadn't shaved at all that week. She had been the complete opposite of hot-at least in the colloquial sense.
But he had just grinned at her and grabbed a box of books to start looking through, introducing himself as her neighbor absently. He didn't help put them away, of course. Oh no. She had quickly learned that Jeremy and organization only knew each other in theory. By the time they had parted that night most of the boxes had been unpacked, but all of the items had simply been strewn around her apartment.
Barely a day had gone by in the past year when he hadn't wandered into her apartment. Sometimes he took over her TV for hours-he refused to buy his own-watching game shows and old reruns of Spanish soap operas. Other times he brought his laptop and wrote while she worked. It took her exactly one month to figure out that the novels he wrote were romantic in nature. Erotically romantic, to be exact. She'd gone to bed blushing every night the week she'd found out.
"Whatcha doing?" Jeremy's voice brought her back to the present, and she looked up to find Jeremy standing over her.
"Work," she said, stating the obvious.
He sighed and grabbed her laptop before she could protest, setting it down on the coffee table carefully before plopping across her lap and wrapping his arms around her neck.
Charlotte grunted and shifted to get more comfortable. He was skinny-probably only 170 pounds on his tall frame, but that was still a lot of weight on her thighs. "What are you doing, Jeremy? I have to finish these reconciliations tonight."
He laid his head on her shoulder. "But it's Saturday, Char! Nobody should work at-" he sat up and grabbed her wrist to peer at her watch-"8:00 on a Saturday night. That's the perfect time to dance. Or drink. Or do something that isn't work."
Charlotte just shook her head. "Maybe for you, but I really need to get this done this weekend. And anyways, don't you have somewhere you should be? Some pretty young thing to prey on?" She let her arms wrap loosely around his waist and leaned back to rest her head on the back of the chair.
"Nope. Not tonight. I already had dinner, thanks to your fantastic cooking. I'm not sure how an accountant got to be such a good cook. I'm just glad you made the decision to move into an apartment right next to mine." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Do you think we could take out a wall and just connect our places?" He settled himself a little more comfortably and sighed in contentment.
Charlotte frowned at him , then began wiggling her legs. "Come on. Up. You may not care about responsibility, but I do." She shoved a knee up into the thing that rested across her lap and Jeremy yelped in surprise before climbing off. He glared at her petulantly, but settled himself back on the couch.
Charlotte reached for her laptop again and set to work. She looked up from her spreadsheet a few moments later to find Jeremy watching her, a strangely pensive look on his face. "What?" she asked.
He shook his head a little and frowned. It was an odd expression. He almost always had some sort of smile on his face. The look of concentration made her slightly uncomfortable. "What?" she asked again, letting a little irritation creep into her voice as she stared at him.
"Hmmm." I was just thinking that it's true. I could totally fall in love with you."
Charlotte just puffed out a small sigh and glared. "Well anyway, Sam came by earlier asking for your rent money," she said. "I told him you'd get it to him by Monday. I know you have the check written, Jeremy. I wrote it myself. All you had to do was sign the damn thing and stick it in the slot. So what happened?" She raised her eyebrows and stared at him until he started to squirm a little.
"It might still be on my dresser," he admitted sheepishly. "I'll sign it and give it to him first thing Monday." His eyes narrowed. "You're changing the subject, though."
Charlotte rolled her eyes. "I'm not avoiding you. I’m ignoring you." She studiously looked at her screen, focusing on the columns and rows of numbers. She could hear him shift closer, moving down the couch until he was sitting next to her chair.
"Why are you ignoring me?" he asked curiously.
Charlotte finished her formula and hit the F9 key to update her data. "Because I don't have time for this game, Jeremy. I was serious. I have to get this shit done this weekend, and I'd like to be able to enjoy myself tomorrow."
She heard him move again and saw him lean closer out of the corner of her eyes. "I'm not playing games, though," he said cheerfully. "I think I could really fall in love with you. In fact, I think I might already-"
"Enough." Charlotte stood, closing her laptop with a snap. She stet it on the coffee table and walked back to the kitchen, refusing to look at the surprised "O" of Jeremy's face. Enough was enough. She had as good a sense of humor as anyone. Better than most accountants she knew. But she wasn't going to put up with Jeremy's teasing. She wasn't in the mood.
She began fiercely scrubbing the pots she'd used to make dinner, letting the scalding water spray over her hands. She jerked in surprise when she felt him come up behind her and touch her shoulder.
"Charlotte? Why'd you walk away? I wasn't done talking." The dumbass actually sounded hurt.
She shut the water off and reached for a dish towel to dry the pot. When she thought she could manage it, she raised her gaze to look at him. "Jeremy," she said slowly , as though speaking to a child. "You don't love me."
He gave her an offended look and shook his head. "How do you know?"
"Because I know. You love me like a child would love their mother. I make sure you’re fed, that your bills are paid on time, that all your deadlines are met, and that nothing too toxic is growing in your apartment. I'm the one you watch movies on the couch with, not the one you take on dates." She shook her head in frustration. "I'm nothing like the girls you bring home, dear. I'm the complete opposite."
"First of all," he countered immediately, "I don't love you like I do my mom. Because that's just eww." He hurried to continue before she could interrupt. "Andy why can't you be both?"
"Both?" she asked, confused. "Both what?"
"Both the person I watch movies on the couch with and the one I take on dates," he said patiently. She realized suddenly that he had maneuvered them so that she was pressed against the counter, trapped from moving by his body. She glared fiercely and raised her hands to press against his chest, pushing him away. And no, that chest absolutely did not feel amazing under her palms.
"Enough. Really. I have work to do and you have dates to go on. Playtime is over." She ducked a little so she could slide past him, but he grabbed her at the last second, pulling her against him.
She stiffened as he wrapped his arms around her. "If you're not interested, you can just say so," he reassured her as he tucked Charlotte close. "But you shouldn't keep accusing me of joking. It's not nice."
She whimpered a little and worked very hard not to melt against him. "Jeremy…" she trailed off.
"You know, it's true that I like it that you take care of me. No one else has before. No one's really cared if I'm eating well or if my bills are paid on time. Nobody else lets me babble on and on about silly things. No one else will watch bad 80's fantasy movies with me. They just want to sleep with me."
Charlotte quietly tried to figure out when she had fallen asleep. Or gotten very drunk. "You can have that without being in love," she reminded him. She wasn't sure why she was fighting so hard against him, except that she didn't want Jeremy to wake up in a week or two or three and realize he'd been mistaken.
"Silly Charlotte," he said fondly. "You don't want to kiss your friends."
He pulled away enough that he could bend down and show her exactly what a writer of erotic fiction was capable of. Any sort of protest she had prepared melted away. She closed her eyes and concentrated on Jeremy's lips. His mouth tasted like chocolate pudding, and his lips were soft and tasted ever so slightly of mint. He had been in to her chap stick again.
He finally pulled away, and she valiantly tried to convince herself that her heart was racing from lack of air. She opened her eyes, though, and found him smiling happily down at her.
Charlotte gave a loud sigh. "What?" he asked worriedly, smile disappearing. "What's wrong? Was it bad? Was I wrong? You don't love me, too?"
He began to pull away, and she was a little shocked to see how absolutely devastated he looked before he turned his head.
"Wait." She grabbed his arms and dug her fingers in. "Wait a sec. You love me?" she asked incredulously. "Since when?"
Jeremy ducked his head a little, and she could swear she saw embarrassment on his face. But the entire idea was preposterous, because Jeremy was never embarrassed.
"For a while now," he admitted, a small glimmer of hope appearing in his eyes. "It just never seemed a good time to bring it up." He shrugged sheepishly.
Charlotte eyed him long and hard. Jeremy looked back, smiling faintly. She briefly considered all the possible negatives of dating her neighbor Her very attractive, intelligent, funny neighbor. Who wrote erotic fiction. True, he was like a large child, but she had spent the past year taking care of him anyway, so really what would change there?
Jeremy suddenly gave her a brilliant smile. "you just realized the benefits of dating me outweigh the negatives, didn't you?" he asked, perhaps a little smugly.
She gave an inelegant snort. "You talk too much. If you'd prefer, we can go back into the living room and I can do some more work-" She barely had time to gasp a breath before he was kissing her again.