[ Y O U T H ] ❝and when the lights start flashing like a photo booth, and the stars exploding, we'll be fireproof!❞
jake peralta x male oc.
brooklyn nine nine: season two, forward.
- copyright credit goes to illuminatedhearts.
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There was a weird feeling in Rudy's stomach, a mixture of butterflies flying about and a stone weight pressing him down, getting heavier and heavier as he walked. As he rushed through the crowds and muttered copious 'sorry's' to anyone he accidentally bumped against, he could not help but feel extremely odd, not to the point of total discomfort but certainly reaching an uncomfortable level.
He had not been to Brooklyn in fifteen years, had left his entire past behind him after high school, and it would be the first time he was forced to face it all in too long to count.
So much had changed, he mused, heading up the street towards an apartment he had never visited, but knew well enough from the person who lived there. Maybe he was exaggerating everything to himself, because there was no way out of the millions he would be stumbling across people he had not talked to in years, but it was still a fear of his.
No time to think about that, however; he had places to be and people to see, and with doughnuts in hand and feet stumbling along the pavement Rudy hurried. It had been a while since he had rushed down those streets, struggling not to react when someone cursed him out or take it to heart, and it was not really a feeling he missed. None of it really was.
God, if he was out there, really liked to toy with a man's heart.
Before long Rudy was scurrying up apartment steps and cursing his luck and the fact that elevator repairs had to be done the day he decided to visit that apartment's fifteenth floor. Sure, exercise was important and all that - but dammit, he would have rathered show up not sweating through a cheap suit and right down into his worn down shoes. Not to mention those doughnuts that were far too expensive to be treated so roughly were dropped nearly a million times - and actually dropped about a dozen.
What a great start.
So then he was twenty minutes late and sweating even more than expected as he knocked on door number 512. His hair and face was probably ruined and he rarely cared about that, but well, it had been a while since she had seen him and Rudy wanted to make sure he still stood in good grace with his dau-
"-dad?"
Rudy shifted his weight and tried for a smile, probably looking more awkward than joyful. "Hey, kid."
The girl before him cocked her head, jolting the tiny buns on top of her head and nearly sending one of them spiralling. Not that she noticed much, of course; she seemed more occupied in taking in the state of her father. "Why're you sweating?"
