Okay, so this came to be because I was like, if the writers aren't going to give me bed sharing, then I'll write it myself. Which then turned into if the writers won't give me what I want, then I'll write it myself. Title is from 'Wake Up' by Circa Waves, partly because I like the song and partly because its called 'Wake Up' and the nerds are waking up together. I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading!

She's counting seconds. It's the easiest way for Nell to make sense of her life and where she is at the present moment.

Each second is another moment to add to her collection of moments. Each second is filled with an inhale or an exhale. Each second is filled with a new part of her skin where she can feel his.

In the back of her mind she keeps a collection of moments filled with Eric Beale, moments she can save for a rainy day, moments that remind her that she's not alone.

His nose brushes against the back of her neck. She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe she can make this moment last just a little longer.

"Sorry." Hs voice is rough, cracked around the edges and she wants to cut herself on it. He shifts, and the hand resting on her waist starts to move, but she grabs it and forces it back to its place.

"Move, and I will actually shoot you."

"Sorry," he says again, and he tries to settle the way they were before, but he keeps fidgeting, and it's getting harder and harder for her to count seconds.

"Oh my god," she groans, flipping herself over so she can look at him. His fingertips now press into her spine, and if she's not careful, this little sleep over thing they are having is going to turn into something much more. "Relax." She tugs lightly at the curls at the back of his neck, trying to distract him from what he is most definitely thinking about.

They had kissed. Multiple times. Two weeks ago. And then, nothing. Because both of them where utter shit at talking about important things. She knows it's mostly her fault, because she knows Eric would be fine if they stayed where they were. He might not like it particularly, but he would be okay with it.

She, however, wants more. She doesn't want to stay where they are, just two friends who kiss each other sometimes in the heat of the moment.

But this, this is new. She had showed up at his apartment at 3 in the morning because she couldn't sleep, because it was a hard day, one of the hardest she has had in a while, and there's just something about knowing the Eric deals with it too that comforts her.

Instead of setting up a blanket fort in the middle of his apartment, she dragged him to his bedroom and pretended it was casual, like it was something they did all the time. she pretends that when she jumped onto his bed, she missed the way his eyes lit up. She pretends that when she reached for his hand two minutes after he turned his lamp off, that it was natural. She pretends that when she curled herself up next to him, that her heart wasn't pounding faster than the last time she kissed him.

She pretends that when he finally falls asleep and she feel his lips less than a centimeter away from her ear that she isn't thinking about violently making out with him until her head hurts.

"Sor-"

She presses a finger against his lips, and tries her best to not think about the fact that she is touching his mouth.

"Beale, say something else besides sorry. Please."

He stares at her, his eyes wide and still full of sleep. Eric Beale first thing in the morning is a whole new experience for her. His hair is messier and his face is scruffier. He's missing his glasses and he's not yet awake enough to control his face.

"Good morning." He whispers, mouth moving against her finger. She worries for a moment if her face is as readable as his, when he stretches, his body somehow moving even closer to hers, and it takes all her willpower not to moan.

Because this is another moment for her to catalogue, and It moves almost to the top of her list.

"That's better." She moves her hand down his face and rests it on his neck. "Thanks for letting me stay over."

He smiles at her. A brilliant, 100-watt smile, and it almost feels too bright for how early it is. Another second passes, and he shifts again, tangling their legs together.

"Always."

It's a single word but it makes her entire heart explode.

"How do you feel about pancakes? I pretty sure I have some mix in the closet." He says. One hand slides gently over her ribcage, testing, teasing, making her brain unable to compute much.

"Hmm. Do you have chocolate chips?"

"Duh. What kind of question is that?" He goes to move again, but she locks her legs and clasps her hands behind his neck.

"What did I say about moving?"

His hands dance along her spine again and she's almost certain she's forgotten how to breathe.

"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted pan-"

Nell Jones is positive she will never get over the feeling of kissing Eric Beale. His lips meet hers almost immediately. She pulls back for a moment, a second, so she can breathe, put her thoughts into focus.

"I do want pancakes." She says, twisting her fingers into his hair, pushing herself even closer to him. "But later." She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, unconsciously, and before she knows it he pressing her into the pillows, his hands framing her face.

She wants to take a second to catalogue this, this new part of Eric, but he kisses her before she gets the chance. He kisses her, and she nearly forgets her own name. She can feel him everywhere. Where his hip is just pressing against hers, where his hand is currently running under her shirt, where his cheeks brushes past as kisses down her throat.

"Eric." She breathes, and his head pops up, cheeks red and lips swollen. She doesn't remember what she was going to say, so she just pulls his head back to hers, and uses all her might to flip them over, so she's straddling him.

He looks up at her like she's the most amazing thing he's ever seen, and she doesn't know what to do with herself.

"We have to talk about this." She says, letting her thoughts fall out of her mouth. She needs a distraction from the way he's looking at her. It makes it hard for her to think.

"Yes." He nods, his hands resting on her thighs. She can feel his fingertips mere inches from the edge of her shorts, and she has to force herself to not think about placing her hands over his and moving them up her legs.

"Soon."

"Whenever you want."

"Over pancakes."

He smiles at her instead of answering. He's waiting for her to make the next move to tell him what's okay and what's not, and it's the little things about Eric Beale that make her realize how easy it would be to fall in love with him.

She arches herself over him, and pecks his lips. It's too short to even be a real kiss, but it makes what's happened between feel like more than two people who kiss on special occasions.

"You have a choice to make," She whispers, letting lips touch his as she speaks. It's wonderful and thrilling and it makes every part of her feel alive. "We can get up and make pancakes or," Her lips graze his jaw and she has to stop herself from leaving a bruise on his neck. "You can take off my shirt."

Nell is pretty sure she watches Eric's brain short circuit in front of her.

"That's-" his voice cracks and he drags his hand away from her body to cover his face. "That's not fair."

"Why not?" She laughs, pushing herself up so she can see his face better.

"I feel like it's a test."

Shaking her head, she leans forward again and brushing his nose with hers. "It's not."

His grip around her waist tightens, and Nell makes the choice for him.

Her shirt lands somewhere in his room, but she's too occupied to notice.

xXx

"You know, I think I'm only with you for your pancakes." Nell says. She's not looking at him, but their legs are touching under the table, and she thinks it's a pretty good way to start talking about it.

He starts choking on his coffee.

She finally looking up at him and once he stops coughing he smiles at her.

"Good thing I can make pancakes then."

It's a start. Which is better than anything that had happened in the last few months. But she doesn't know where to go from there, so she just stares at her pancakes, and tries to think of anything to say. Really, her mind is stuck in a different part of his apartment, the one where her shirt is hiding, the one where he let her know that yes, he's one hundred percent in this as well.

"So are we dating?"

His voice shakes her out of her head, and she takes another bite of her pancake.

"Yes?" She's not sure what she's supposed to say. Other times she had dated people was easier. They asked her on a date. She asked them. They kissed. They went on more dates.

But with Eric, it wasn't linear. She feels like they've been together for years, but at the same time it still feels like it's brand new.

She already has a key to his apartment. They already go out to dinner and to breakfast and to the movies. Sometimes they go food shopping together because he hates going alone, and they've gone on long weekends to the beach together.

But she doesn't know what it's like to hold his hand and walk down the street. She doesn't know which side of the bed he prefers or which way he tilts his head when he kisses (she hasn't been paying close enough attention yet). She hasn't catalogued all of his birthmarks and scars, she hasn't memorized the way he makes his coffee, and she doesn't know where he keeps his glasses when sleeps.

"Yes?"

"Yes. Dating." She wants to lean across the table and kiss him, but she doesn't know if that in the cards yet.

"Okay, so rules." He places another pancake on her plate and passes her the syrup.

"No HR violations at work." She says, to get it out of the way. She's thought about kissing him way too many times to count. Hell, she's kissed him at work before, and she can't think about doing it again, because it's too risky.

"Good."

"It's your turn to say a rule." She nudges his leg.

"I'm trying to think."

"Think faster."

"I have nothing." He says. He looks over at her, and his lips are still slightly red from earlier.

"Nothing at all."

He shakes his head, and looks back to his plate of pancakes.

"We're sort of bad at this talking thing." She says, leaning forward toward him as she does.

"No we're not. We talk all the time. We're just not good at the clarification stuff. But that's out of the way now."

"Is it?" She bites her lip and leans even closer to him, because she can.

"Yes. We're dating now?" He turns to her and they almost knock noses they are so close.

"Yes. So I can kiss you whenever I want, correct?"

He swallows hard. Her hand covers his and she pushes even closer to him.

"Yep."

"Good." She presses her lips against his and smiles. It's soft, softer than earlier, softer than any kiss they had shared before. "Be prepared."

He nods enthusiastically and then surges forward to capture her lips again. "You be ready too."

Somehow, she makes it out of her chair and on top of the table in front of him without knocking anything over. And she kissing Eric Beale, the man she is dating, the man she can probably call her boyfriend without it being weird, in his apartment on a Saturday morning, and everything feels like it's finally falling into place.

She loses another shirt (this time it's his) within the next hour, but she's not complaining.

Nell stops counting seconds. Her seconds are too filled with Eric too waste time counting them. She doesn't have to save them for a rainy day. Now, she can just ask for them.