Born from my own annoyance with my midterms. Enjoy!
Trixie is frustrated.
Not in a man, this math homework is killing me way.
Not in a seriously, Moms, do I have to feed the chickens right now? way.
And not in a that old guy at the mall yesterday looked super mysterious kind of way.
"Damn it, Honey!" If only it were that easy. She'd gladly take one of those problems right now.
Honey looks up from her laptop, staring at her best friend for all of a second before returning those hazel eyes to her screen. "Do I even wanna know, Trixie?"
Trixie lets out a huff of breath. "Probably not," she moans, burying her head against Honey's mattress. Well, not exactly Honey's real mattress. Her school-year mattress in the New York apartment that the two of them share with Di, a few short minutes away from campus. "Where's Di when I need her?"
Honey rolls her eyes. If she didn't know better, she'd be worried that Trixie was upset over something actually serious. Just the thought of Trixie's current problem—or, at least, what Honey suspects it is—is enough to make Honey bang her head against a wall. And Honey is definitely not a head-banging-against-the-wall kind of girl. "Di's out with Mart." A sigh. "They both had their last midterms on Thursday." No bitterness in her voice. None, whatsoever.
"Lucky them," Trixie grumbles under her breath. Here she was on a Saturday morning, burying her head in the books. She can only imagine what those two spent last night doing.
The essay in front of her getting uglier by the second, Honey makes a decision. One that she knows she'll regret. "Three minutes," she concedes. "You get three minutes, starting now."
"Oh my God, Honey," Trixie begins with a huff of breath, collapsing onto Honey's duvet. "Jim has this huge outline due for his thesis on Tuesday, and I have two exams on Wednesday and a paper due Friday."
Wait for it. Honey braces herself, knowing what's coming next.
"We haven't had sex since two Saturdays ago. I haven't even seen him since last Saturday." Trixie groans, seeming to ignore the mental pain that the images are wreaking through Honey's head. "We tried studying together last weekend, because there is no time to do anything else. But, Honey, I can't sit across from him while he's biting his pencil like that. I just can't."
Honey can feel the insides of her brain congealing.
"I'm reading my psych textbook, actually focusing, and I look up for a split second." Trixie chuckles at the memory of it, blushing at the same time. "He was definitely staring down my shirt. I didn't realize it but, like, the top few buttons on my blouse had come undone and he could see pretty much everything." She lets out an annoyed groan. "He blushed when he caught me looking but then he gave me those eyes." Trixie feels the heat pooling in her stomach just thinking about it. "And if we weren't at the library, I would have made him f—"
"Skip this part!" Honey squeals, her cheeks filling with pink. "You're going to drive me insane, Trixie."
"Jim's the one driving me insane!" She runs her fingers through the tousled golden curls piled on her head, falling back into her desk-chair hard enough that it rolls away from Honey's bed. "He told me that there's no way we can keep being around each other the next couple weeks because, he's like me." Another deep sigh. "He can't be in the same room as me without touching me." The thought makes Trixie smile, then blush harder at the memory of all the times… You know. Jim with those rough hands all over her skin, his soft lips pressing against her neck while his fingers tangle themselves into her hair, and his hips… shit. "I can't stop thinking of him on top of me, Honey," Trixie confesses hoarsely, almost too quiet for Honey to hear.
But, unfortunately, Honey did hear. "Okay," she silences, "I think that's enough for now, Trixie." She waves a hand in front of her face, trying her best to erase the picture of her brother, naked, on top of her very willing best friend. Just great.
"I still have one more minute."
"But—"
"And then, Thursday, I'm working on that stupid paper that's due for criminology, and my phone beeps." Trixie shakes her head incredulously.
Here we go.
Trixie pulls out her cell, flipping through the messages until she finds what she's looking for. Flushed red, she pushes away from her seat and stalks over to Honey's bed, where the poor brunette looks about ready to have a heart attack. Not that Trixie cares, right this moment. She shoves the phone into Honey's face.
Honey bats it away, refusing. "I am not reading whatever dirty text that gross brother of mine sent you, Trix. I am already traumatized for life."
"Just read it, Honey. Can you believe him?"
With a deep breath, Honey peers onto Trixie's smartphone.
Fuck, Trixie. I have my damn thesis to write and all I can think of is the sound you make when I get you to come with my mouth.
Honey just about faints. Mr. Honourable my fricking ass. "Why the hell did you just make me read that?"
"I can't take it any more, Honey! I am going to fail each and every single one of my exams because I can't stop thinking about Jim's face between my—"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Beatrix Belden," Honey warns, pointing a finger accusingly at her now officially ex-best friend. "Does your poor mother know the kind of things that come out of that mouth of yours?" Or go in to it, for that matter. Shut up, Honey.
Trixie narrows her eyes. "Don't sound all innocent, Honey Wheeler. I'm just making up for the time you decided to describe to Di and I with vivid detail the way that Brian's fingers felt that time after Christmas." She shivers at the thought, trying to shake the idea of it out of her head.
Silence engulfs as they both sink into the awkwardness surrounding them. Honey can feel the tension radiating from Trixie's skin. Damn hormones. It kinda sucked that they had never really been able to talk to each other about those things, the things that best friends usually like to talk about. Details about the first time, and the second, and the third… "Why are you dating my brother?" Honey whines. Her eyes meet Trixie's, and after a beat, they both dissolve into a fit of giggles. Hysterical, probably. Who cares at this point?
Honey would have to blame Di for giving the once bashful, innocent Trixie the ability to talk about these delicate things to Honey without a filter. Much to the brunette's endless mortification. She hasn't been look at Trixie, or Jim, the same way she used to.
"Trixie," Honey finally sighs, breathing through her laughter. "I'm only going to say this once, so you better listen, okay?"
"I'm listening."
Honey looks up at the ceiling, throwing her arm across her face. I can't believe I'm going to say this. "Just… meet that idiot for an hour and get it out of your system. Please, for all our sakes. You're wasting more time thinking about it than you would if you just, you know, did it."
She hears Trixie's strangled cough. "You're supposed to tell me to stop being stupid and keep studying."
"That ship has sailed, Trix."
Hmph. Trixie would be indignant, if the thought of wrapping her bare legs around Jim's waist didn't make her need a change of panties.
Picking up her phone, she debates it for a couple more seconds before typing out a new message to Jim.
Can I meet you at your place in half an hour? There is no way I am ever going to be able to study if I keep thinking of you inside me.
She leans back in her chair, trying to hide her satisfied smile.
I can't do this.
Jim buries his head into his arm, nearly smacking into his keyboard. Damn it. It was no use. If he didn't stop thinking of his girl, naked in his bed, he was going to lose it.
He takes a glance across the table at Brian. Brian. He tries not to turn red. If Trixie's brother knew about the lewd thoughts Jim was currently (scratch that, perpetually) having about his sister, Jim might not make it to submit the first part of his thesis on time. Or ever.
Jim tries to focus back in on his laptop, where a once interesting topic of research now makes him want to pull all his red hair out.
Just as he's about to completely give up, Jim hears a smug laugh from beside him, somehow more irritating than usual. That laugh that Jim knows too annoyingly well, because it is almost always at his expense. "What, Dan?" Jim asks tiredly. He didn't need Dan's shit on top of everything.
Looking over to the former gang-member seated to his left, Jim knows he should expect the worst. That sparkling grin on Dan's face is trouble, and it definitely doesn't help that Dan has an uncanny and completely humiliating ability to read Jim's thoughts, especially when a certain blond amateur detective was involved.
"What's got you so frustrated, Jim?" Dan leans in so that Brian doesn't hear him. The eldest Belden's nose is buried deep in his physiology textbook and doesn't pay them any notice. "You look like something's on your mind." He flashes Jim one of those shit-eating grins.
"Please don't, Dan. Not right now." Jim takes a deep breath, counts back from ten, imagines a peaceful waterfall.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Frayne."
The red-head runs a tired hand through his thick hair, rolling his eyes. He's pretty sure he doesn't have the patience left in him for this.
Dan snorts, unfazed that Jim seems to be on his last straw. "I wonder what Trixie's doing right now." When he sees Jim's face flush, he can't help the mischievous chuckle that spills from his lips.
"Studying, probably." Jim says it like studying is the vilest, most detestable concept on the planet. "She has a bunch of exams this week. She really wants to do well on them." Just the thought of Trixie's bright smile makes him warm all over. And then, he imagines the other parts of her, and he gets a little too warm.
Busy wallowing, he barely pays any notice to the vibration his phone makes against the wooden table.
Dan, however, is not so unobservant.
Picking up Jim's phone, his eyes skim over the screen and he nearly spits out his coffee. Brian and Jim both snap towards the loud choking sounds that Dan is producing. They receive annoyed looks from the students around them, and Dan tries and fails to control his incredulous amusement.
Jim gets a sinking feeling. He quickly wrestles the phone from Dan's grip, leaning away from his two friends and unlocking it to find a new message from Trixie. He reads it and his face turns red as a tomato, heat filling every inch of his skin. "Dan," he seethes, looking immediately towards the object of every murderous thought he has every had.
The expression on Dan's face makes Jim want to be swallowed alive by the ground beneath him. Oh lord. Here it goes.
"What the hell is going on, Dan?" Brian asks, looking pissed at being taken away from his reading.
"Dan." There's an edge to Jim's voice that fuels Dan's need to make his life miserable. "Don't you fucking dare," he warns hoarsely.
"What is it, Jim?" Brian's impatience is quickly turning into curiosity.
"You really don't want to know," Jim mumbles.
Dan raises a knowing eyebrow. He can see the steam coming from Jim's ears. "Don't you have somewhere to, um, be, Jim?" The laughter in his voice is unmistakably at Jim's expense.
"Fuck you, Dan." Jim shoves his phone into his pocket, throwing his things in his bag and rising hurriedly from his chair. He turns painfully towards Brian. "I'm sorry, man."
To Dan, the confusion on Brian's face is priceless.
"It's okay, Jimbo. Your secret's safe with me," Dan calls after him. This stuff's better than the movies.
As soon as he enters the deserted stairwell, Jim leans back against the wall, catching his breath. Reading Trixie's text again, he can't help but let out an exasperated chuckle. He texts her back. Be right there, Shamus. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you.
Just as he's about to pocket his phone and head over to his apartment, it vibrates with an incoming message from Brian. Use protection, asshole.
Damn it. He'll deal with Dan's smug face once he's done with Trixie.
Phew. Writing that makes me all hot and bothered. Yes, some explicit language from our favourite honourable and responsible characters. But the Bob-Whites are going to college in the 21st century.
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