It was a slow day at the precinct. The rainy Monday-morning atmosphere had made everyone lethargic. And it didn’t help that Captain Holt was out at a dentist appointment and the Sargeant had taken a personal day to be with his daughters, who were sick with the sniffles. No one felt motivated to do any work without Holt and Terry’s watchful eyes on them.
No one except Amy Santiago, anyway. She was hunched over her desk filling out some paperwork from her last case. This form was taking her longer than usual, because the rest of the team was playing a rather loud game of Truth or Dare around her and she was finding it hard to tune them out.
“Weirdest place you’ve ever had sex?” Jake asked Rosa.
“I said dare, dummy. Not truth.”
“Okay. I dare you to tell us about the weirdest place you’ve ever had sex.”
Rosa shook her head slowly, arms crossed. Boyle piped up, “I had sex in a walk-in freezer once. But there wasn’t any food in it. Well, except for the food we brought with us.” Sounds of disgust rose from the group.
“Okay, I’ve got one,” Gina said, giving Charles the side-eye before continuing. “Best oral sex you’ve ever gotten?”
The team considered this. “Wait, is this a free-for-all now?” Jake butted in. “No one’s getting asked any direct questions? So anyone can just skip any question they don’t wanna answer?”
“I see your point,” Gina said, nodding. “In that case, I direct my question to… Santiago.”
Amy looked up from her form. “What, me? No, I’m not even playing. I didn’t hear the question, anyway.”
Jake kicked Amy’s chair softly with his sneaker. “Best oral sex you’ve ever had. Go.”
Amy laughed and lowered her eyes back to the page on her desk. “Not applicable.”
“Not applicable. I don’t like oral.”
At this, everyone turned and stared at her. Rosa and Charles had been bickering over the logistics of walk-in freezer sex and Gina had been adding the finishing touches to her wolf-themed nail art, but they all stopped to see if they had heard correctly. Even Scully and Hitchcock glanced over from their corner of the room, where they’d been doing god knows what.
“You don’t… like it?” Jake prodded. “But… but…” He was at a total loss. He’d always known Amy disdained plenty of things he loved – Die Hard and pranking Holt, to name just a couple – but oral sex? She might as well have said she didn’t like sleep, or money, or bacon.
“Girl, you do not know what you are talking about,” Gina finally said, breaking the stunned silence. “Everyone likes gettin’ head.”
“Not me,” Amy affirmed. “Every time someone does it to me, it’s just… gross. Messy and sloppy and doesn’t even feel good.” She couldn’t believe she was telling them this. Her cheeks went pink and she filled in the next box on her form with penstrokes that were a little too firm, almost frantic. Inwardly she vowed to never tell anyone at the office anything personal ever again.
“Maybe you just haven’t had good oral,” Rosa suggested.
Jake pointed at her and nodded. “Yeah. That Teddy guy looked like a real cunt-bungler.”
“Cunt-bungler! I love that,” Boyle said admiringly. “What does it mean, though?”
“You know. A lacklustre labia-licker. A cunni-dingus, if you will. Someone who doesn’t know how to please a lady.”
Amy snorted. “Oh, like you do, Peralta?”
“As a matter of fact, yeah, I do. I am the cunnilingus king.” He swept his arms wide and took a theatrical bow in his chair.
Rosa laughed – a rarity. “Arrogant much?”
“No, he’s right,” Gina said. “Boy’s got skillz.”
“Ew, wait, why do you know that?” Amy asked. She put her pen down on the desk; clearly she wasn’t going to be able to get any more work done today.
“Uh, it’s a long story,” Jake said, shooting Gina a look. “Anyway, let’s get back to grilling Santiago… I’m willing to bet you just haven’t been with the right guy yet. You’d feel differently if you’d ever been with someone who had a clue what they were doing.”
“I don’t think so,” Amy said firmly. “Wait. You’re willing to bet? How would you even win that bet?”
“By making you come with my mouth.”
Charles did a spit-take with his coffee and Rosa smirked, but Jake’s steady gaze held Amy’s. He wasn’t kidding.
“That’s ridiculous,” Amy said quickly – too quickly. Then, tentative, she added, “What would I get if you lost?”
“I’d do your paperwork for a month. Oh, wait, I forgot, you love doing that nerd stuff.” Jake paused to stroke his chin in thought. “How about I’ll buy you a new pantsuit for your seemingly infinite collection. A nice one.”
Amy scoffed. “Jake, you’re in crippling debt. You can’t afford a nice suit for yourself, let alone for me.”
“Fortunately, I won’t lose the bet, so that won’t be a problem.”
She stared at him, hard. Everyone else was watching raptly, but somehow Amy just felt emboldened by this. “And what happens if you win?”
“You mean, aside from you having the greatest orgasm of your life?” Jake leaned back in his chair, self-satisfied smirk on his face. “You announce to the whole office that Jake Peralta is a master cunnilinguist-slash-genius.”
“That isn’t even a word.”
“What isn’t?” Jake paused; Amy looked down at her arrest form and blushed again. “Cunnilinguist? You can’t even say it, Amy. You’re hopeless. A hopeless prude. A hopeless, frigid prude.”
At this, Rosa stood up, rolled back the sleeves of her leather jacket, and cocked her fist, because Jake had really taken it too far – but before she got a chance to follow through, Amy said, “Okay, fine. I’ll do it.”
Jaws dropped around the precinct. “Really?” Jake said, barely breathing.
“Sure, whatever,” Amy replied breezily. “Your place. Six-thirty, tonight. Get your credit card ready, ‘cause mama’s getting a new pantsuit.” With that, she got up and went out on the balcony for a smoke, leaving an awed silence in her wake.
“Shit, I gotta go get my place ready,” Jake said eventually, raking a hand through his already-messy hair. “If the captain comes back, tell him I went to arrest an axe-murder gang or something.”
Santiago knocked on Peralta’s door at six-thirty on the dot, freshly showered and smelling like rose perfume. She didn’t care about impressing him, but she wasn’t an animal, after all.
Tousled and slightly sweaty, he opened the door. “You okay?” she asked as she strode past him into his small apartment. “You look a little frazzled.”
“Yeah, I’ve just been, uh, cleaning up,” he said. He gestured around him at the various mismatched candles he’d lit around the room. Through the door on the opposite wall, Amy could see more candles in the bedroom. The bed was made, which she imagined didn’t happen too often in Casa de Peralta. Wordlessly raising her eyebrows at him, she took off her coat and tossed it on the couch.
Jake went into the bedroom. When Amy didn’t follow, he stuck his head back out the doorway. “You coming, or what?”
“I guess that depends on whether you’re as skilled as you say you are,” she quipped.
“Nice! Score one for Santiago. You have a sense of humor after all,” he said, grinning. She followed him into the bedroom.
The setup was more elaborate than she had initially realized. Pillows were piled high at the head of the bed, the lights were dimmed to match the candles’ glow, and one of the candles was even scented (Amy couldn’t picture Peralta setting foot in Bath and Body Works, let alone actually making a purchase, and yet somehow he had). She sniffed. “Twisted Peppermint?”
“Yep. You said it was your favorite last month when the captain got you one for Secret Santa, remember?” He looked pleased with himself.
“Trying to impress me?”
“Well, step one of the No-Fail Jake Peralta Make-a-Lady-Happy-in-the-Pants Plan is to set the mood and make the girl comfortable, so… here we are. Speaking of which: aren’t you wearing a little too much pantsuit for what we’re about to do?”
When she continued to stand there, he went over to her and pulled her jacket off her shoulders before pushing her back onto the bed. “Whoops,” he said with an impish shrug. Amy rolled her eyes, sat up on her forearms and pulled the rest of the jacket off, followed by the pink silk top underneath it, which revealed a purple lace bra. Then, tentatively, she unbuttoned the fly of her slacks and pushed them down, kicking them off to pool on the floor of Jake’s bedroom. Jake’s bedroom, she thought, pulse quickening. I’m in Jake’s bedroom and I’m almost naked.
After glancing in an almost-imperceptible-and-yet-totally-obvious way at Amy’s purple panties, Jake grabbed his desk chair, turned it around to face the bed, and sat in it, staring at her. “Alright, here we go. Step two: show me whatchoo like, girl.” He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms expectantly.
“What?” Amy asked. She was starting to feel pretty lonely on the bed by herself. She pulled her knees to her chest so she’d be less exposed, though it didn’t help much.
“Come on. You’re a cop. You know how important it is to do recon before starting a mission.” He reached out to her and gently pried her knees apart. “Show me how you touch yourself. You know, when you’re alone. So I’ll know how you like it.”
Amy blushed deeply, both at his insinuation that she masturbated (how dare he? And how did he know?) and at his touch on her knees. She was glad, at least, that she’d raced home after work to shave her legs before coming to his house.
As he continued to watch her fixedly, she realized she wasn’t going to be able to talk her way out of this. He was right; it was reasonable for him to want to see what she did when she was by herself, so he’d have some idea of what would work. And anyway, the light was dim enough that he wouldn’t be able to see her imperfections, and she even might be able to ignore him and forget that it was Jake Peralta watching her.
She scooted backward on the bed, laying her head on the pile of pillows Jake had set up for her, and raised her hips to shimmy out of her panties. Tossing them aside, she tried her best to relax, and her hand snaked down her belly to her pussy.
“Neatly trimmed. I knew it,” Jake murmured. “Rosa owes me ten bucks.” Amy would’ve rolled her eyes if they hadn’t already been closed.
Trying to imagine she was at home in her own bedroom, she slowly parted her labia with two fingers. She slid one down to her opening and noticed she was wet. It’s not because of Jake, she thought. I’m just nervous. It’s an involuntary reaction. She couldn’t, wouldn’t entertain the notion that Jake was making her react this way.
Fingers now slick with her not-because-of-Jake juices, she set to work on stroking her clit. Her fingers slid up and down the sides in a slow rhythm, and then finally settled on her clitoral hood, gliding around and around in the circular motion that always did the trick for her. Biting her lip with arousal, she lifted her hips slightly and let out a small moan. Shit, she thought. Why am I enjoying this?
Opening one eye slightly, she peeked at Jake. He wasn’t taking notes (wasn’t nearly as organized as Amy would have been, she thought), but he might as well have been. His gaze was locked on her cunt, mouth hanging slightly open in an expression of wonderment and intense focus. Against her better judgment, Amy felt her pelvic muscles clench in excitement. No one had ever looked at her like that before, certainly not when she was doing this. She wasn’t sure why but some part of her loved it.
Feeling a little more daring now, Amy dipped the middle and ring finger of her non-occupied hand into her mouth, wetting them, and then pushed them into her pussy while continuing the slow circles on her clit with the first hand. She pressed her fingers up to meet her G-spot and groaned from the sudden fullness. Pulse speeding up, breath hitching, she leaned her head back into the pillows and clamped her eyes shut as she fucked herself.
Then she felt Jake’s warm hand on her arm. She gasped and her eyes flew open. He had gotten up and was standing beside the bed now. “Alright, don’t get too worked up,” he said softly. “My skillz won’t seem as impressive if you’re already halfway to coming before I start working my magic.” He gave her arm a little shove and she slowly, regretfully, pulled her hands away from her pussy.
At home, she would’ve had a damp washcloth ready at her bedside for the tidiest possible clean-up, but Jake was never as prepared as she would’ve been, so instead she put her fingers in her mouth and sucked them clean. Jake watched her wolfishly. “What?” she said.
“Nothing,” he answered. “You’re just… hot. And beautiful. I could watch you do that all day.” He laid down on his stomach in front of her on the bed and softly pawed her thighs wider apart.
“Oh, I get it,” Amy said. “Step three of Jake’s Make-a-Lady-Happy-in-the-Pants plan: flatter her so she’ll relax. Right?”
He looked up at her. “What? Oh. Yeah. I mean, that is part of the plan, but… I meant what I said.”
It suddenly hit her that Jake Peralta was lying between her legs, his face inches from her cunt. She covered her eyes with one hand and her face felt hot. “Okay, let’s get this over with,” she said. “Go ahead and make me not-come so I can win that damn pantsuit.”
Jake laughed, and she felt his hands settle on her parted thighs. “Man, you are really convinced you’re going to hate this, aren’t you?”
“Well, I think it’s pretty logical to assume that if it’s never worked for me before, it won’t magically start feeling good now.” She eased her hand off her eyes. This compromising position felt less awkward by the second; Jake was, after all, still her friend, still someone she generally felt comfortable around, even if his face was presently between her legs. “I mean, it just doesn’t do much for me to have some guy’s tongue going in and out of my… hole,” she added, surprised at her own crassness.
Jake, who had been about to lay a kiss on Amy’s pale thigh, suddenly jerked his head back up to look at her. “Wait, what?” he said. “Guys just tongue-fuck you? No one’s ever licked your clit?”
Amy’s eyebrows knitted together. “Um… No…? Are they supposed to?”
Jake chuckled. “Oh my god. This is totally why you’ve always hated oral: no one was doing it right! I told you Teddy was a cunt-bungler! Another great solve for Peralta. I’m the best detective.”
Amy started to say, “Okay, I think that’s enough self-congratulation from you,” but she barely got halfway through her sentence before it was strangled by a thunderous moan, because Jake had wrapped his wet lips around her clit and started sucking.
“OH FUCK,” she yelled, unladylike and not caring. Jake laughed against her body and the vibration traveled through her like an ecstatic earthquake.
Pinning her thighs apart with his big warm hands, Jake started to work his tongue in an up-and-down motion on one side of her clit and then the other. She realized he was mimicking what he’d seen her do with her fingers earlier. Maybe he was smarter than he looked.
“God, you’re so wet for me,” he groaned, lifting his head for just a moment, and she growled with frustration and shoved his face back where it belonged. She wasn’t wet for him, she thought grumpily. She was just wet because… she was being touched. It could have been anyone doing it. It didn’t matter that it was Jake Peralta. Right?
Jake switched to a circular motion, his tongue looping up, over and around her clit again and again, catching it in a tiny whirlpool of pressure and wetness and just enough friction. She couldn’t believe how good it felt. It was like her own fingers, but faster, softer, smoother. Nothing had ever felt like this with Teddy, or any of her few other boyfriends before him. She made noises deep in her throat that she didn’t even know she was capable of: wild, uninhibited, un-Amy-like noises.
One of Jake’s hot hands left her thigh and she missed it immediately, until she realized where he had moved it to. As his tongue continued to twist and spin against her clit in a seemingly impossible rhythm, he slipped first one finger, then two, inside her, and pushed them up against her G-spot. His hands were bigger than hers – she’d often secretly admired the way they looked wrapped around the grip of his gun – and his fingers felt so much more substantial than her own, filling her up like she never could when she was by herself.
With this new internal onslaught added to the constant rubbing of his tongue around her clit, Amy suddenly realized she was going to lose the bet. She was going to come. And she didn’t care.
“Jake – I’m gonna – “ she started, and she felt his muffled mouth say “Mm-hmm” in that ridiculously arrogant way he had.
His tongue slipped across that one spot on the tip of her clit that always set her off, and suddenly she was coming on his mouth, grasping fistfuls of his hair and moaning and moaning and moaning. He clamped his lips around her clit and squeezed rhythmically, riding it out with her, using his free hand to hold her hips steady as they bucked against his face. Her internal muscles gripped his fingers in waves and he waited until her contractions had completely stopped before slowly sliding his two fingers out of her and into his mouth to lick them clean.
She watched him wearily, and let out a long, slow “Uuuuuhhhh.”
He nodded. “I know. I’m good. Told you.”
Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a response, Amy pulled her legs closed and rolled onto her side. But she couldn’t keep herself from smiling.
“You taste really good,” Jake said as he sucked the last of her flavor off his knuckles. He climbed up the bed to lie beside her, wrapping his top arm over her and pulling her close against his body. “I’m sorry I called you a frigid prude. It wasn’t your fault you were so frigid.”
Amy half-heartedly hip-checked him, and when she did, she felt his erection through his jeans and suddenly wondered if he thought she was being selfish. “Um, do you want to do anything else?” she croaked, reaching behind her for his belt buckle.
“Nah, that wasn’t part of the bet,” he said, and took her hand. “I mean, I’m not ruling it out. For another time, maybe. But right now, I think you should just chill.” He laughed. “I mean, the last step of the No-Fail Jake Peralta Make-a-Lady-Happy-in-the-Pants Plan is ‘Cuddle the lady while she lies in a blissed-out daze because you’re so damn good with your mouth, you epic Adonis.’” Amy was too exhausted to call him out on his cockiness – and, secretly, she thought it was justified.
Come Tuesday morning, the 99th precinct was abuzz. It was 9:03 A.M. and Jake hadn’t showed up for work yet – which wouldn’t have been notable in the slightest, except that neither had Amy.
Even Captain Holt noticed. “Where is Santiago? She’s always punctual,” he remarked, examining his wristwatch.
Gina, Charles and Rosa exchanged bewildered glances. “Um, I think she had a late night last night,” Charles eventually said, and Rosa kicked him in the shin with her biker boot.
Just then, Jake and Amy walked in, grinning at each other, shoulder to shoulder. They noticed everyone was staring at them, and Jake elbowed Amy in the ribs. “Well?” he said.
“Just… wait a second,” Amy muttered. Holt nodded hello to her and went into his office. Amy exhaled in relief; he couldn’t hear her now from where he sat. She didn’t mind that she’d lost the bet to Peralta, but she didn’t want to make an ass of herself in front of Holt; she wasn’t that far gone.
She cleared her throat. “Everyone, I have an announcement I’d like to make. Um… Jake Peralta is a…” She looked at him imploringly.
“Master cunnilinguist…” he prompted, looking cockier than she’d ever seen him look, which was saying something.
She rolled her eyes, but secretly she wasn’t even a little bit annoyed. “Right. Jake Peralta is a master cunnilinguist-slash-genius.”
Everyone kept right on staring. Amy blushed a little, but she stood by her statement.
Finally, Jake crowed, “Jake Peralta is a Master Cunnilingus-Slash-Genius: title of Santiago’s sex tape!”
She punched his arm, smiling sheepishly, and sat down at her desk. There was paperwork to do, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to concentrate again for quite a while.