You had been in Brooklyn's 99th precinct for about a year and a half, getting to know the team. Over time, you and Jake Peralta, the precinct's resident wisecracking detective, had grown closer. It started with casual banter and evolved into late-night stakeout conversations and shared laughs over drinks. He was one of the only ones that didn’t seem to care that you were gay.

You noticed Jake's subtle glances and the way he always seemed to find a reason to be near you. Today was no different. You were working on a report when Jake let out a dramatic groan from his desk. Before you could react, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the evidence room, shutting the door behind him.

You stumbled slightly, catching your bearings as Jake paced in front of you, his hands covering his face. He muttered something incoherent, but you caught bits and pieces—something about always thinking he was straight until he met you. Finally, he stopped, lowering his hands to reveal a look of confusion mixed with vulnerability.

"I don't get it," Jake said, his voice tinged with frustration. "I've always been into women. You know, Die Hard, every Bruce Willis movie ever... But then you show up and suddenly everything's different." He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. "What is it about you that's messing with my head?"