Title: Study Room
Genre: Smut, romance
Spoilers: Maybe for Modern Warfare… this takes place mid-Season 2, but with few actual spoilers. Also, if you haven't read Theatre and Library, the two smutfics preceding this one, I'd suggest going and reading them for this to make sense. Quick recap: Jeff got Annie all riled up in the theatre, and Annie returned the favour in the library.
Summary: After the build up in the theatre and library, Jeff and Annie finally resolve things.
A/N: Finally, the end of this series! Seriously, this is why I don't do long, multi-chapter fics, cause they never get finished.
Extra A/N: I realised, after I reread this and the two before it, that my other, unrelated Jeff/Annie fics had much more dialogue than these ones. I don't know why. Also, it says something for the awesomeness of this fandom that I've written so much fic in the past few months. You guys rock!
He watched her saunter out, somehow her back managed to look smug. She'd pulled one over on him, had him completely at her mercy. And she knew it.
He'd been waiting for her to make the first move, he just didn't expect for her to be so fucking good at it. And now she was walking away, giving him no chance to retaliate. Well, he couldn't stand for that.
He jumped up out of his chair... Then he realised that he was exposed to the whole Greendale library, all five of them, who, thank God, were all engrossed in their studies, and sorted himself out.
And promptly chased her out of the door, down the corridor, and into the study room. She wasn't expecting him: the look on her face when he grabbed her shoulder showed that she had imagined him sitting in the Library, dumbfounded. She had probably hoped the other members of the study group would have arrived before he pulled himself together.
She'd forgotten that no one else was always half an hour early.
"What was that?" He didn't mean it to sound angry, but frustration made it come out that way.
"What was what?" She shot him her Bambi-eyes, all innocence. He just stared at her, trying to figure her out.
He heard her breath quicken, saw her eyes dart down to his mouth and back again. Then she licked her lips.
He didn't question further. He'd realised something: despite all that had happened between his impulse in the theatre and them staring each other down here and now, he hadn't kissed her. Actually, he had never kissed her: she always kissed him.
He reached up, placed one hand on the base of her skull, threading his fingers through her hair, and put the other one in the small of her back, and pulled so her whole body was pressed against his.
He felt her gasp, felt her bones mould and melt to fit against his, and then he was pressing his mouth against hers, and she was kissing him back, their tongues stroking and moving between them, each trying to elicit the stronger response from the other.
Jeff figured he'd won when he felt Annie's knees give out. He broke their kiss to catch her, realising he was holding her upright. He looked down, saw her eyes half-closed, her face flushed. He was hit by that same desire he'd felt in the theatre, he wanted to see just how long he could keep her looking like that.
But the growing situation in his pants was telling him clearly that this wasn't the time for that.
So, instead, he ducked down and scooped Annie up in his arms, causing a shocked little squeak and then a contented sigh, and hurried over to the couches. He realised the table was probably an easier choice, but memories from last years' paintball made that… inappropriate, to say the least.
Yeah, he thought, because sleeping with a girl half my age in the middle of college, when company is expected any time soon, is so much better.
He deposited Annie on one of the couches, and stopped for a moment to admire the view of her lying there, skin flushed, chest rising and falling faster and harder than normal, and all because of him.
Then he was on top of her, and that surprised little noise came again.
"What did you expect me to do?" He asked, as he started kissing and nibbling her collar bone, and working at his belt buckle.
"I - I don't know-" She gasped, trying to remember how those word-things worked, "Wasn't expecting the - ah!" he had pressed two fingers between her legs, and started pulling her underwear out of the way, "The - full-body tackle…"
"Sorry," he grinned at her, utterly unrepentant, "Desperate times, you know."
"Desperate, yeah…" she made this little mewing noise that had him moving even faster, if possible, and shifted her hips to get him closer to where she needed him, "About that…"
Then he was struck with an alarming thought, "I don't... have anything"
A secret little smile flashed across her face, and she reached down to a pocket in her skirt, pulling out a foil-wrapped condom.
He raised an eyebrow, "Any reason you're so prepared?"
She mimicked his expression, "Jeff, you know me. I throw myself at you in the library, and you think I wasn't prepared?"
He smirked and took the little foil packet, finally navigating his jeans, and freeing himself.
When he was done, he moved forward, his face now level with hers, and slipped himself inside her, inch by inch, mirroring her sob of pleasure with a deep groan.
"I am sorry, though," He grunted once he was fully sheathed inside her.
"For what?" she whispered, between pants, as he started to move, feeling her legs wrap around his hips and her hands tangle in his hair.
"For -" he grunted again, and kissed down the side of her neck. She was more gorgeous now than she'd ever been, wrapped around him, sweaty and disheveled, mewing and moaning into his ear, "For letting this take so long." He finally managed to bite out, feeling himself moving towards that edge with every thrust inside her, every clench of her slick, wet walls around his aching cock.
"You were so worth the wait." She whispered into his ear, making him shiver, then groan as she ran her tongue around the shell and tugged the lobe with her teeth.
"Stop - stop that." He panted.
"Why?" she had a sly smile on her lips, now, like she had in the library, and he thrust in extra hard, rotating his hips, just to get rid of that smile.
Not because it wasn't the sexiest thing he'd ever seen: because if she kept looking like that, he was going to come in within seconds, and he wanted her to go first.
He registered the way her eyes had rolled back in her head, the new, whimpering noise she'd made from that, and grinned like a demon, repeating the motion.
"Like that?" He raised an eyebrow, back in control.
"Uhhhh," an emphatic nod, her eyes stayed closed.
He slipped a hand down between them, and started to rub her clit in time with his thrusts. "Just let go, Annie," his voice was getting hoarse, as he felt his own climax coming on, "Come for me…"
She let out a high-pitched, strangled wail, and her walls clenched like a vice around him, throbbing as she rode out her orgasm. He followed soon after, pumping into her erratically, his rhythm broken as he came inside her.
Finally, they were both done, and he slipped out of her. She fumbled on the floor for where he'd dropped her underwear, while he pulled a tissue from his pocket and sorted himself out, glad of the wastepaper bin at the end of the sofa.
"Alright?" He smiled down at her, feeling happier than he had in months.
"Better." She broke into the widest grin he'd ever seen, and he had to lean down and kiss her again.
He sat up and jumped to his feet, extending a hand down to her, "Milady?"
Her smile was beatific, as she took his hand and let him help her to her feet, "Milord."