Too Hot To Handle. - Jake Peralta.

Too hot to handle. - Jake Peralta.

I can hardly ever find anything good to read about him, so HERE IS A TRY! Hope y’all like it!

The first time you stepped into the precinct, Jake Peralta had made some stupid joke about hazing new detectives. You had immediately shot back with something just as ridiculous, and it was like watching a cartoon character glitch out. He blinked at you, stunned, and then grinned so widely it looked painful.

Since then, it had been a running joke that you were the only person who could truly keep up with his humor. Which, of course, meant that he was obsessed with trying to outwit you. The two of you were constantly paired together on cases because of how well you worked in the field. Or, as Rosa had put it, “because nobody else wants to deal with you two idiots for longer than five minutes.”

But it was also complicated. Jake never wanted to admit how well you clicked. He made everything a competition, which was fine, because so did you. But anytime things started getting even remotely real—like the time you had patched up a nasty scrape on his shoulder after a foot chase, or when you had fallen asleep on his couch after a movie night—he immediately reverted back to making jokes.

Tonight’s mission was supposed to be easy. Surveillance. You and Jake were supposed to sit in an unmarked car, watching the entrance of a shady bar where a known arms dealer was meeting with a potential buyer. There was no need for any heroics, no need for either of you to go undercover. Just watch, take notes, and report back.

Naturally, that meant you and Jake were going to be stuck in close quarters, which had never been a problem before. Except that lately, there had been a shift in the way he looked at you. A flicker of something behind the humor, something bordering on dangerous.

Jake was lounging in the driver’s seat, fiddling with the radio as he spoke. “Alright, so how long do you think we’ll be here before something exciting happens? Because I give it fifteen minutes before we start making hand puppets with the flashlights again.”

You snorted, settling back in your seat. “Let’s be real. You’ll start doing the puppets, and I’ll be the audience that pretends to be unimpressed.”

Jake gasped dramatically. “You love my puppet shows! You said Gary the Giraffe had ‘real emotional depth’—”

“That was sarcasm, Peralta.”

“Yeah, well, sarcasm is just love in disguise.” He waggled his eyebrows, and you rolled your eyes.

The street outside was quiet. The bar was bustling, but none of the people going in and out matched the photos of the suspects. It was going to be a long night.

You stretched, arching your back slightly. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jake go very still.

Interesting.

You decided to test the waters. “Man, I hate these stakeouts. It’s always the same. Sitting around, waiting for something that never happens.”

Jake cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, you say that now, but last time we got free tacos out of it.”

“That guy was bribing us to leave.”

“A bribe’s just a gift with extra steps.”

You turned to him, catching the way his eyes flicked to your face before darting away. He was fidgeting more than usual, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Alright, spill. What’s up with you?”

“W-what? Nothing. I am completely normal. A hundred percent Jake, baby!”

You raised an eyebrow. “You just called yourself ‘Jake, baby.’”

“I did?” He winced. “Cool, cool, cool, no doubt, no doubt.”

It was painfully obvious now. He was nervous. You tilted your head. “Jake.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re acting weird.”

“Incorrect. I am always weird.”

“Weirder than usual.”

He hesitated, then let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. You got me. It’s just—look, I’m a detective, okay? My job is to observe. And I have observed that you’re, like...annoyingly hot.”

You blinked. “What?”

Jake groaned, running a hand down his face. “Ugh, I knew this would be embarrassing, but I didn’t think it would be this embarrassing. Look, I’m just saying, it’s very distracting. You exist, and it’s ruining my life.”

You bit back a smile. “Wow. That’s a lot of feelings you just dumped on me in a surveillance van.”

Jake pointed at you. “Don’t deflect. I know you feel it too.”

You stared at him for a long moment, weighing your options.

And then, because you never backed down from a challenge, you grabbed his jacket and kissed him.

Jake made a startled sound before immediately melting into it. His hand slid up to cup your face, and holy shit, he was good at this. His lips were soft, but the way he kissed you was anything but gentle—like he had been holding back for a long time.

When you finally pulled away, he was breathless. “Okay. Okay. That happened. Cool. Just gonna—” He pressed his palms against the steering wheel and exhaled. “Gonna need a second to reboot my brain.”

You smirked. “Reboot faster. The target just arrived.”

Jake snapped back to reality, sitting up straight. “Oh. Right. Crime.” He glanced at you again, grinning. “We should probably talk about this later.”

“Probably.”

“Like, after we finish this case.”

“Mhm.”

“But just for the record,” he added, “you are absolutely too hot for me to handle.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “And yet, here we are.”

Jake grinned. “Yeah. Here we are.”