Boys Like You

—

When September slipped effortlessly into October, the weather followed suit. Hot days eased into comfortably cool days that eagerly colored canopies in shades of warmth.

And when October– with all its orange and gold and carved squashes and chilled mornings– became November, Judy panicked.

Everything's fine, Judy thought, I'm not panicking. Pursing her lips, she traced the grain of the wood in her desk with the eraser of her pencil. Really, she wasn't. She was the picture of calm. "Calm" was her middle name. "Calm" was the breath in her lungs, the blood in her veins, the–

The bell rang and Judy launched herself out of her seat, book bag swinging over her shoulder, ready to make a beeline for her house to get ready (not to "calm herself down" or "talk down her nerves" or something because, really, she was fine) for the night ahead. But instead, she flew straight into Nick, who was already standing by her desk with his arms folded and head cocked, concern pressing his eyebrows together.

"You alright, Carrots?"

He asked like he'd already filled in the answer, and Judy should've known better than to hide those kinds of things from him because as soon as his teeth clicked on the "T" of alright, she blurted out, "I'm so nervous!"

The worry on his face turned to a softness reserved just for her, and the look made her heart slow. Her own face must've lightened because Nick immediately grinned down at her. "Better?"

She returned his grin with a small one of her own, squeezing the straps of her book bag. "A little."

"Good. You had calculus-eyes. Nobody should have to deal with that but me."

Whatever sweet moment Judy had anticipated died a swift death, and she shook her head at him, amused. "Whatever you say, Slick." She pressed her paw against the push-to-cross button, expecting Nick to turn and head in his usual direction. Instead, he lingered by her side, crossing with her when the light flashed, tail waving behind him. She didn't ask, but her eyes flickered up to him every so often. His own face was laid-back and unworried.

"I'm going to give you the pep-talk that you're planning to give yourself in the mirror. Save you some embarrassment."

Flushing, Judy pinched at his side. Nick dodged easily, gracing her with a wide, pointy smile before grabbing her paw. "You're perfect, sweetheart. She'll love you. Especially if you bring in your transcript."

"Nick!"

He laughed, hopping up ahead of her as she stomped towards him.

—

The bus had been predictably cramped as families packed themselves and their suitcases into every possible cranny of the vehicle. When Nick and Judy finally stepped off, they inhaled greedily, reveling in the fresh, cool air.

After readjusting the aluminum foil covering her precious pie, Judy cradled it gently to her chest and fell into distracted step beside Nick. He'd told her that home would be five blocks from the stop, and that meant five blocks of getting to know where Nick grew up. He'd frequently regaled her with his childhood adventures, but had always managed to avoid actually describing the neighborhood he'd grown up in.

But looking around revealed nothing more than a humble street littered with a variety of kempt and unkempt little houses, some with sprawling yards that looked as though they hadn't been maintained in several years (perhaps hadn't even been lived in for several years), and others with facades so well-kept, it was hard to believe that there wasn't a PTA mom involved in the decor. Every so often, they'd pass a brightly colored house, and every other so often, they'd pass a yard with kits tumbling around in the grass, all of whom would stop to call Nick out and wave as he passed by. Judy, meanwhile, did her best not to look too ecstatic with all of the new information.

Five blocks ended at a cozy-looking, two-story home with a clean, white exterior. The yard was small– tiny, even, and more than a little cluttered– but the picket fence wrapped around the enclosure was crawling with vines and blooms Judy's parents would have approved of. It wasn't yard of the year, but it was cozy and definitely the kind of yard a mother who hung up her son's kindergarten paw-paintings and macaroni art on the fridge and who still sent pies to her husband, wherever he might be.

Judy balanced her own warm pie tray in one paw and tugged at the waist of her sundress with the other, occasionally glancing up at her perpetually cool-faced boyfriend. "You're sure this is ok?"

"Yupp, I'm positive. But if you'd like to spin again, I'm not going to protest." He grinned down at her as he lead her up the stone pathway, nudging pumpkins back into their respective piles of black-eyed susans.

The pale, yellow door opened as soon as they crossed the last step, and Judy was greeted through the glass with the sight of a vixen who looked a little worse for wear but still excited and bright-eyed in a way that made her unmistakably Nick's mother.

"Uh oh," Nick murmured, pulling Judy back as Mrs. Wilde swung the glass door with a vengeance, missing Judy by a margin. A slight dusting of flour expelled itself from the vixen's paws and apron.

"I've waited so long to meet you," Mrs. Wilde said, not missing a beat as she beckoned the two of them in and took Judy's pie from her hands. "Nick has told me all about you. All good things. Oh, mind the flour, we'll sweep that up in a bit."

The closer to the kitchen Judy walked, the headier the smell of butter, until she was convinced she was back at Bunnyburrow, three years old and crouching as she watched her own mother pull out the vegetable pot pie with its flaky, golden crust from the oven.

"I'm a little behind schedule. I hope you won't mind helping me out?"

"No, of course not," Judy answered in a rush, stepping up to the kitchen island. "I love this, my mom and I used to do it all the time, I even told her I wanted to bake pies for the rest of my life–"

"What's all this for?" Nick asked, a little bewildered. He hovered uncertainly over the array of cooked food on the table. "There's only three of us, mom. This is enough for an army."

Abashed, Mrs. Wilde looked away, shrugging. "I might have gotten a little carried away and ran my mouth at a few people."

Judy rarely saw Nick at a loss for words. She tried not to laugh.

"You act like I'm never home!"

"You're never home with a girlfriend," Mrs. Wilde answered smartly, looking smug. "Of course I got excited."

His mouth gaped open and closed for a minute, forcing Judy to duck her head and laugh as silently as she could. Finally, weakly, Nick managed to ask, "Who?"

"The Renardos," Mrs. Wilde ticked off, looking up to the ceiling for inspiration.

"All of them?" Nick hissed. His eyes flickered uncertainly towards Judy, who smiled reassuringly at him.

"Yes, you won't have to babysit, don't worry," Mrs. Wilde said absent-mindedly, "The Redds"–

"What!" Nick exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. "The Redds?! Why?! I thought they stole your paintings!"

"Oh, it'll just be this once"–

"That's what you said last time!"

"Oh," his mother wave Nick's comments off. "You worry too much. The Porcmans and the Pinesons. I think that's all." She turned to face Judy, smiling brightly. "You'll get to meet the neighborhood!"

Lifting her shoulders and clasped hands, Judy returned the smile. "I'm ok with that!" She turned to Nick and gave another silent giggle, shrugging good-naturedly. "20 still isn't 275."

"This was a terrible idea," Nick groaned, slumping into a seat by the dining table.

"You silly buzzkill," his mother chirped. She handed a rolling pin to Judy and motioned towards the foyer. "Go sweep the floor, my wayward, un-fun son! I have embarrassing stories of you to share!"

Sighing dramatically, Nick picked himself up. "You're welcome to forget I'm here."

Laughing, Mrs. Wilde sent her son off with a kiss to the forehead before returning to work with Judy and narrating story after story of Nick's childhood shenanigans, broken up by frequent questions of Judy's own background and side comments from Nick.

Four hours could have passed and Judy would have been none-the-wiser. When the oven timer went off, the doorbell also rang, interrupting Judy's explanation of family dynamics with 274 siblings and shocking her straight into the air, ears shooting up so fast they almost broke the sound barrier.

Mrs. Wilde, ears flickering, segued from one task to another, hooking her apron up in the pantry, rinsing off her hands, and heading towards the door. As she stepped behind Judy, she patted a hand on the small of her back. "Help yourself!"

"Thank you," she answered self-consciously, minding the effort Nick's mother had put into everything.

Mrs. Wilde smiled warmly. "Of course."

Nick came out of the living room and into the kitchen as his mother waltzed out. Seeing Judy, he smirked, leaning onto the broom he was carrying. "How's it going, fluff? Tired?"

Smiling, she seated herself at the dining table, laying her head onto her arms and carefully avoiding the array of dishes. "A bit."

"You've got a long night ahead of you," Nick teased, balancing the broom against a counter before heading towards Judy. She scooted to the side, patting the open area she'd made and laying her head on Nick once he'd seated himself.

"You're mom's amazing, Nick."

He nodded, patting Judy's paws and avoiding her eyes. For all the chatter going on in the foyer that happened to drift into the kitchen, this space with Judy felt oddly silent. Peaceful, even. "She really talked your ear off, huh?"

"I enjoyed it," Judy murmured before playfully adding, "nothing I'm not used to! Like mother like son, huh?"

Grinning, Nick squeezed her side, eliciting a squeak from the unsuspecting bunny who returned the squeeze before hopping out of the seat to check on the last pan roasting in the oven. As she plated the vegetables and rinsed the pan off to stick in the dishwasher, the chatter from the foyer grew closer. She looked at Nick, who was already watching her. His mouth quirked into a sideways smile that she found oddly comforting.

—

As Judy wiped down the table one last time, she found herself thinking that the night had felt oddly short. That wasn't much of a surprise, though, considering how good a hostess Mrs. Wilde was: patient, engaged, and such a good conversationalist that Judy had realized midway through the event that Nick was really just a slyer version of his mother.

"Ready to go home?" Nick asked, emptying the dust pan into the trash bag he'd lugged around for all the leftover paper plates and cups.

"Mhm," Judy straightened up, admiring her work. Nick tied up the bag and cocked his head towards the door, waiting for Judy to lead.

"Don't forget your pie pan," Mrs. Wilde called from the living room, hurrying to the kitchen to hand the dish to Judy.

"Oh! Almost forget about that. Thank you!"

Nick's mother laughed loudly. "Ha, thank me? I dragged you into preparing for a party. Thank you. I'm sorry my big mouth turned that into an event. I'll be sure to keep quiet the next time you visit," she winked at Judy, whose tentative smile grew wider.

They gave their last goodbyes as they stepped out onto the porch, Mrs. Wilde warning her son to avoid dark alleys on the way to and back ("And really, if it gets to be too late, you might as well just go wherever it is you go when you don't come home for days without bothering to call me," she said a little sourly, Nick looking sheepish. Her stern expression melted into its usual lively twinkle though, and she kissed her son on the forehead) and thanking Judy again profusely with the bunny's paws in her own, squeezing every other syllable.

This time it was five blocks past dim, flickering street lamps. What had looked a little wild but certainly friendly before in daylight had become unfamiliar and eerie, and Judy thought for a brief moment that maybe Nick had never shared his neighborhood because this was his overall impression of it. She didn't say anything though, content to let the quiet hang over them until they reached the bus stop.

"Sorry about that," Nick finally managed.

"About what? About the party? About your mother?" Judy nudged him in the side, looking up at him happily. "I loved all of it."

Nick looked at her dubiously. "You're not exhausted?"

"I am," she said. "But it kind of took the pressure off of having to make conversation with your mother the whole time. And I like your neighbors," Judy shrugged. "I almost think your mom did it on purpose."

Nick chuckled. "I think so, too." He shoved his hands into his pockets. The bus huffed up to the waiting area, wheezing and coughing to a stop. When they sat down, Nick pulled Judy up to himself, turning so that his back rested against the window and Judy slipped between his legs. "Thanks. I'm glad you like her."

"She's hard not to like. She's like a version of you that isn't trying to trick everybody," Judy added sneakily, turning so she could lean more comfortably against Nick. He laughed into the spot between her ears, and she felt her insides warm.

"I think she's lonely," he murmured after a pause. Judy turned her head up, watching Nick contemplate. His muzzle rested on her forehead, moving as he spoke. "Dad's the only one who can really keep up with her."

"I'm sorry," Judy answered softly, threading her paws through Nick's. "We'll fix it," she said hopefully, craning her neck further to kiss the underside of his muzzle.

He managed a smile. "Thanks, Carrots," then he kissed her on her nose, which she wrinkled as he pulled away.

They fell into silence again for the rest of the ride, Judy succumbing to her exhaustion and falling asleep against Nick's arm while Nick watched out the window, alert and waiting for the little row of shops that meant they were nearing her stop.

He shook her gently when the bus passed her flower shop, and she woke blearily, one eye opening before the other. "Up and at 'em, sunshine," Nick crowed into the empty bus, effectively jolting the bunny into wakefulness and earning himself a dirty look. He smiled toothily at her.

The five minute walk was spent exchanging babysitting stories, brought on by Judy's sleepy and harmless mention of Kristie's adorable little brothers ("Ha!" Nick barked. "They're vicious."). When they reached her apartment, Nick flopped onto the couch, stretching and yawning.

"I'm just gonna take a 5 minute break," he groaned, popping a few joints as he stretched against the cushions. He sunk deeper and deeper into the couch with every deliberate stretch, looking as comfortable as any fox could, his eyes fighting to stay open.

Judy sat down at his feet. "You're welcome to stay," she said shyly. "It is kind of late."

Nick smirked down at her, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"No!" Judy exclaimed, beet-red and horrified.

He continued to watch her smugly. "It's ok if you were thinking it."

"Well I wasn't"–

"It's ok to want to sleep with me," Nick said confidently over her frantic protests, eyes gleaming mischievously. "I'd sleep with me if I could."

She cracked, breaking into laughter mid-explanation. Nick's paws settled on her shaking sides. When she finally stopped, she looked up at him, eyes bright and amused. Naturally, he sat up just enough so that he could grab her and pull her down with him, kissing her soundly on the mouth.

"I'm just kidding, fluff." He said as he pulled away, taking stock of her pleased expression and rubbing a finger against her cheek.

Judy hummed in response, pressing her ear against his chest and listening for the familiar, steady drumbeat. "Thanks for introducing me to your mom."

"No problem. My turn next, huh?"

"Mhm."

He said nothing. He didn't need to. His sleepy heart stuttered into wakefulness and Judy smiled into the ruff of his neck. "Nervous?"

"No," Nick murmured, swallowing.

"Don't be."

"I'm not," he said stubbornly, then cleared his throat and added, "think they'll like me?"

Judy pulled herself up while laughing openly. "I'm sure most of them will. And anybody who doesn't will come around to it."

"Your dad, right? Is it cause I'm– y'know," he swept a hand over himself. Judy frowned a little.

"Maybe. I doubt it." She shrugged and then threaded her paw through his. "I think it's just because I'll always be a kit in his eyes, you being a fox is just more convenient than saying it's hard to watch me grow up. But that's actually the least of his concerns, anyways." Judy flopped back down against his chest, staring at their reflection in the TV.

What she said settled in the silence between them, begging for attention, but they both let it hover there until Judy drew in a breath. "I told them I'm applying as a criminal justice major."

His paw, which had been smoothing patterns into her back, stilled. He patted her uncertainly. "This is you telling me, isn't it?"

"I… yeah. I was going to tell you sooner. But I was… nervous."

"Nervous?"

Judy sat up again, folding her hands in her lap and pursing her lips. Finally, she looked up at Nick, who'd sat up as well. "I'm not really sure what you want with your future, Nick. Which is ok," she added hastily. "I just don't know what that means for us. But I've met your mom now, and at least that makes it feel like this is worth talking over."

Nick took his turn looking pensive. "I'm probably not going to make it into UCZ," he said thoughtfully without a trace of resentment.

Quietly, Judy said, "You could transfer from SSC."

"I've… thought about that. I've been told it's pretty common to transfer from Sahara Square to Central Zootopia."

Judy nodded vigorously and scooted a little closer. "Anything you were thinking about in particular?"

"Maybe law enforcement." Judy nodded at him eagerly. "Or maybe a forensic accountant. That'd be pretty interesting."

Judy's eyes brightened, and she grinned. "Numbers."

Nick flashed his own smile at her. "Numbers."

Her grin widened, and she fidgeted a little before launching herself at him. Nick oophed and Judy squeezed tighter. "I was scared. I'm still a little scared. But more excited now than anything."

Nick smiled into her neck, kissing and then scoffing. "Don't get too excited. I've heard good things about the basket weaving classes at SSC. Might make a career out of it. The new Andy Warthog, but with baskets."

Snorting, Judy pulled away to give him a look. "Just admit your excited too, Slick."

"Just a little," he joked, wriggling his paw side-to-side before wrapping his arms around Judy and tugging her down with him. He smooched her loudly, wetly, on her nose.

She pushed him away just enough so that she could look him in the eye as she whispered conspiratorially, "We can make the world a better place!"

"You can. I'll ride on your coattails with my baskets."

Judy laughed, shaking her head. "I'll rub off on you one day."

"You can rub off on me all you'd like, bunny. It's one in the morning and I'm not going anywhere."

"Nick!" Judy shrieked, trying to look more outraged than she felt.

But Nick only snapped his jaw playfully and tickled her sides. They crumbled into a happy heap, a little more confident of things to come.

—

A/N: i know right. can you believe it.

…

I'M SO SOORRRYYYYYYY AAAAAAH haaahahahahhaa oh man. I have learned a lot about myself writing this fic. BUT I MADE A PROMISE AND I INTEND TO KEEP IT, EVEN IF I'M WELL PAST MY 30S BY THE TIME I FINISH THIS FIC

I WILL DO IT

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE CONTINUED SUPPORT

I -STILL- GET MESSAGES AND REVIEWS FROM ALL OF YOU AND EVERY TIME I GET THE NOTIFICATIONS, I JUST CAN'T BELIEVE IT. YOU ARE ALL CRAZY-WONDERFUL, CRAZY-AMAZING (crazamazing?) INDIVIDUALS.

also tHANK YOU FOR ALL MY FRIENDS WHO TOLD ME TO GET'ERDONE. I COULDN'T HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT YOU GUYS, EITHER. I AM SURROUNDED BY AMAZING PEOPLE. I AM LITERALLY A DEMON AMONG ANGELS. WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE.