Disclaimer: I own nothing here apart from college experiences.
A/N: I wanted write a birthday present for tkel_paris, and my muse insisted I wrote this. Sorry this is a little bit late and I hope you don't mind me practising writing smutty fic in your name, love. :)

Housemates

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It was late into the evening when a young couple sauntered along a well-worn path that led up to a block of pre-war houses recently inhabited by various groups of students. This was the time of year for celebrating. To be honest, any time of year could be deemed as being relevant for celebrating in the student world; but in their case they had had the joint reason of a college friend's birthday and the last lecture for a particular course they had both attended. Normally they'd be worrying about their approaching exams, but they were old hands at this now as the end of their final year fast approached.

Most of the houses they passed were ablaze with lights and loud music, but their own quiet student digs were lit by one solitary light, up on the top floor in the attic extension where Clara and Martha resided next to the second bathroom. The front room on the ground floor was always in darkness these days because its tenant, Rory, tended to spend his time around his girlfriend's place. The house generally missed his calming presence but it couldn't be helped. Soon he and the other inhabitants would be off forging a path in the real world away from the university. Only one of them was likely to be left behind, if he could gain sufficient sponsorship, otherwise permanent employment beckoned for them all.

The night air had caused the alcohol the pair of students had drunk to take stronger effect; and they stumbled in through the door, sniggering with unsuppressed glee as they failed to stop themselves from making a noise in their search for the light switch.

It was the woman of the couple who found it. "And then I said, 'there was me thinking it was dog food'!" she related the end of their conversation, much to the amusement of the young man by her side, who practically broke up with laughter.

"How do you think of these things, Donna?" he complimented her. "I'd have never thought of it in time." He then tripped over the front door mat but clung onto the nearest wall as he feigned any knowledge of the action.

"John… can I call you 'John'? Anyway, I will because that's your name," Donna stated as she wavered on the spot and attempted to point at him. "That, plus the fact you are mighty familiar to me."

"I should think I am by now, you mad cow," he giggled, holding himself up by leaning against the wall of the hallway they were still stood in.

She narrowed her eyes and peered at him thoughtfully. "Are you the John I've been living with for the last two or three years?"

A broad grin spread across his face. "Three whole years. Guilty as charged, milord."

That only caused more confusion. "When did I become a lord?"

"You aren't. You're what we scientists call 'a lady'," he revealed with a great deal of confidence in his knowledge. He even added in a tap to the side of his nose.

"Are you getting all techno babbly on me again?" she queried and grabbed hold of his sleeve to ease herself nearer in order to reprimand him. "Because you aren't the only one around here who will be gaining a doctorate."

"Who else is?" he asked, clearly puzzled as he stared at her with large doe eyes.

"Erm… I think it was you," she supplied, and he readily nodded in agreement.

"That sounds about right. Did you drink any of that green stuff? I can't remember if I did or I didn't," he admitted. "But it was awfully sweet."

"You're sweet too," she joked, and bashed his shoulder. Well, she would have bashed his shoulder but she missed and hit the coatrack behind him instead. "Blimey, you're thin!" she exclaimed. "I need to fatten you up."

"You've done an excellent job of… of… of… of not doing that to yourself," he stuttered as the thought ran away from him. "What were we talking about? Never mind, it's time for bed."

"There was something I had to tell you before we went to bed," she muttered to herself. "I think it had to do with Dr Capaldi."

"He fancies you," John commented with glee, and smirked to himself. "Old man Capaldi is more than a little taken with you. I say him eyeing you up."

"You did not," she denied, blushing furiously. "Don't be daft."

"I'm not fibbing, Donna. Not this time. Honest!" He then confessed, "As for other times… I was fibbing when I said Jack fancies you."

"I know." She attempted to hold in a hiccup by clamping her hands over her mouth. "I always know when you are lying."

"You do? Oh!" He pouted. "Sorry."

She merely shrugged her shoulders. "It happens. I mean; a gorgeous bloke like that with… with eyes; yeah, it stands to reason that he wouldn't be the slightest bit interested in me." She then bent her body and added, "Perhaps I ought to phone Lance."

"Don't you dare!" he threatened her as she pulled out a mobile phone from her coat pocket. "If you drunk call that prat I shall lock you in my bedroom."

"Why shouldn't I?" she petulantly wondered when he grabbed her wrist.

"Because he used you when you went out with him. He always uses you. Why can't you see that? He doesn't deserve you and never did," John insisted as his head slightly cleared.

Sad blue eyes were raised to closely contemplate him. "Then who does? No one wants me," Donna sadly remarked.

"I want you," he readily responded, and quickly tacked on when her eyes went wide in shock, "as my friend; my best friend. The bestest of the best."

"You always say that," she huffed. "It's exactly the same as your dad saying you're pretty; it doesn't mean anything."

"It certainly does!" he protested.

Scrunching her face up in denial, she stressed, "Oh, you know what I mean. You're supposed to say that."

His gaze dropped. "I suppose so," he murmured.

"Anyway, look at you," she chivvied, deliberately knocking his shoulder playfully with her own. "You've got several girls chasing after you. Martha upstairs for one has the hots for you, and that flowery girl from the corner shop... Daisy, Rose, Lily, Hyacinth Bucket, or whatever her name is. She well fancies you."

A light blush appeared on his cheeks. "If you say so."

"I know so," Donna confidently declared. "If I'm lucky, she'll have a brother that I can go out with."

Having silently agreed that that topic had reached its end, they began to clamber up the stairs to where their bedrooms lay. Donna's was in the front bay of the house, next to the main bathroom, and John's room was at the back of the house. There was a third, smaller bedroom on the landing that belonged to their friend Jack. It certainly was a mixed bag of possible careers within the house. Martha and Rory were destined for a medical career; Clara was training to be a teacher, whilst Jack was heading for a place with the Ministry of Defence. Donna wanted to enter the corporate world, and John hoped to gain a life in academia.

To her surprise, he didn't go straight into his room but followed her into hers. "What's up?"

He sort of dithered by her desk chair for a second. "You're not going to phone Lance, are you? Please say you won't."

She touched his arm in comfort. "Alright, just for you, I won't." On the desk in front of her sat the papers she had meant to tell him about. "Oh look! Here's those notes I promised you," she declared, taking hold of them.

His face lit up as he took them from her. "Thanks, I could kiss you!" he proclaimed. Putting the papers back down, he slowly but thoughtfully stated, "In fact, I think I will."

Before she could negatively react, his lips met hers in a soft, pleasant kiss.

"What?!" she stammered out. Could this be really happening to her? Her of all people. It must be a dream because the John she knew would never think to do this.

But all he did was smugly grin at her and cradle her face within his hands. "I might do it again," he whispered, right before he actually did.

This time he took it more slowly, drawing out a satisfied groans from both of them as his mouth moved over hers. Full ripe lips met and slightly opened.

All she could think of saying was, "Why did you do that?"

"Why do you think?" he asked in return.

In complete honesty, she confessed, "Because you're drunk."

"No. I'm tipsy but that isn't the reason," he softly explained; and eased them backwards onto her bed. "Well, apart from the Dutch courage it's given me, obviously. But other than that, I've always wanted to do this."

"You have?" This was definitely a dream, she decided. A nice, drunken, wish fulfilment dream.

"Oh yes," he moaned as he shut her up with another deep kiss.

Not wanting to break the spell, she hungrily returned his kisses; allowing their passion to give her permission to smooth her hands through his hair, then down his back, and onto his bottom. It didn't matter if this was real or not, all she wanted to do was enjoy the moment with him; her secret crush.

His hands were not so static either, going from stroking her back, to fondling her breast, and then down to caress upwards from her thigh.

Soon he was on top of her, pressing into her delicate flesh through their clothing as their tongues glided over each other in their quest to taste one another as deeply as possible. Their mutual desire grew until skin against skin was their ultimate goal.

Their bodies deliciously undulated together; silently promising sensual delights. She raised her knees so that he could touch her more firmly, and then she felt him fumble with the catch on her jeans.

"Wait! Have you got a condom?" she breathily asked.

"No," he admitted as he released her, "but Jack should have one. Hang on." He pulled away, revealing how aroused he was as he gazed at her with desire, before rushing off to fulfil his quest. A minute later he was back, looking eager and very pleased with himself as he held up a small packet. "He wasn't there. Luckily I know where he keeps his stash."

She sat up. "Will he mind?" Donna thought to ask.

"Who cares?" he laughed and then lunged at her body.

They hurriedly undressed each other, adding in playful bites, desiring licks, and wet kisses as they did so. Her fear was that he would immediately reject her once he saw her naked, but quite the opposite happened. Instead, his eyes grew darker with lust, and he readily pulled her closer to his body.

To her delight, he didn't immediately aim for personal satisfaction, like most blokes would do, but he dipped his head and intimately stroked her while he kissed her breasts. Taking great care, he suckled her flesh; causing a thread of desire that shot right to her groin.

"Been wanting to do that for long?" she giggled her question when she saw how much he relished the task.

"You wouldn't believe how long," he said with feeling. "From the very first day."

Well, she could have guessed that one, judging by the way he had surreptitiously ogled her cleavage and peeped down her top. But she had thought it was just a passing phase.

When she reached out to help with putting the condom on, he eagerly allowed access.

~o~

"Oh Donna!" he happily groaned as he moved within her, closely followed by even more blissful groans. "Oh God, you're beautiful. So lovely. Bloody gorgeous."

"Do you think you could shut up for a second?" she modestly begged as she tried to concentrate on the sensations he was causing. "You're not so bad yourself."

"No, you need to hear this," he insisted, and deeply kissed her again. "I love you."

"I love you too," she quietly stated, amazed that she felt able to say this to him.

"Love you!" He continued to chant this until he gasped, "God, I'm going to cum. Sorry. I'm so close…"

He warbled out a low and satisfied cry before sagging and landing on her; now totally spent.

"Are you alright? That was fantastic!" he enthused as he still panted with the effort of their love making.

"I'm fine," she replied, still smoothing a hand down his back. Are you?"

"Yeah. Do you fancy a shower together?" he offered.

"That sounds good, and then, you could stay with me, if you like," she heard herself suggest. What on earth had made her say that?! He'd run for the hills.

But he didn't react like that at all. "Why not? I'll go and get some clean underwear from my room," he pleasantly agreed; and ran to do just that.

~o~

As John emerged from his bedroom, with a small pile of clean clothing held in his hands, Jack stepped onto the landing from his own room. He instantly took in the sight of his friend dressed only in his underpants and suppressed a laugh. "Hello John! What are you doing walking about undressed like that at this time of night?"

John tried his best to look invisible against his door, without any positive result. "Nothing," he defended himself.

It was obvious Jack didn't believe him. Especially in light of what he had just discovered elsewhere. "And I suppose you know nothing about taking my stuff?!"

Horror made John's eyes go wild with fright. "Ah, about that... Sorry, so sorry. You weren't here so I helped myself. I thought you wouldn't mind."

"You did, huh?" Jack trod closer to peer at him imperiously. "So who were you shagging? No doubt it was that little blonde who tries to constantly hang out with you. The one that works in that shop. Can't remember its name. Or has Martha finally talked you into bed?"

Should he tell? John raced through all the arguments in his head. "No. No one. I wasn't with anyone."

Fed up with waiting for him to return, Donna donned her dressing gown, opened her bedroom door, and was greeted by the sight of Jack interrogating a distraught John on the landing.

Relief flooded Jack when he saw Donna appear. Here was ally who would help him tease the information out of John. "Can you believe this, Donna? John seems to think I was born yesterday."

"I didn't know it was your birthday, Jack. I'd have bought you a present," Donna deadpanned.

"Ha ha-di-ha, very funny," Jack grumbled. "You know my birthday is next month."

"Oh yes!" she answered as though it was a revelation. John was attempting to sneak off silently into his room, she noted, so she decided to distract Jack further by leaning against the bannister and letting some flesh be displayed by her wayward silken dressing gown. Fortunately it worked, because Jack's eyes lingered on her revealed cleavage. "Don't worry; I'll remind John in plenty of time for your party," she vowed.

He instantly turned his head and saw that John had escaped from his question. Clearly irritated, he queried, "Why do you always stick up for him? He'd be lost be without you. How on earth is he going to cope next semester when you go back home for good?"

"Oh, he'll pick someone else up, just like he always does," she answered. "Then I'll be forgotten like a dream."

This wasn't working, so Jack decided to seduce the answer out of her. With that aim, he moved nearer to conspiratorially schmooze, "You're his best friend. Surely you know who he's just been banging. Go on, tell your Uncle Jack."

She snorted her scorn. "If I knew, you'd be the last person I'd tell, and well you know it. It's jealousy that's making you this noisy about it. People are trying to sleep."

"Sorry. And perhaps I am jealous, just a little bit," he admitted in a low voice, "but that doesn't stop me being interested in who he's had in his bed."

Leaning in closer, she whispered, "I know for a fact that he hasn't had a woman… or man… in his bed tonight; so you can go to sleep without worrying about it."

He frowned at her. "What about you; aren't you worrying?"

"Not yet. I'll be picking up any of the pieces, but that's tomorrow's worry." She smiled her sweetest smile at him and then headed back into her room. "Night, Jack."

"Goodnight, Donna," he replied. But he stood there for a little while longer, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. He'd get to the bottom of this mystery, by hook or by crook.

~o~

The following morning, Jack approached John like a cat weighing up its prey. "So ... Are you ready to tell me who you spent last night with yet?" he asked as he plonked himself down onto the chair beside him at the kitchen table.

It gained the answer he sort of expected from John. "Leave me alone, Jack. I drank way too much at Dr Capaldi's party," he complained. He pushed away the mug in front of him and hugged his head in self-pity.

Jack merely leant back in his chair, reached over and nonchalantly filled up his coffee cup from the nearby coffee maker. "Not until you tell me who they are."

"I need medication. So piss off!" John spat out.

"Tut tut. Hey Donna!" Jack then called out to her as she entered the communal kitchen. "John still won't tell me."

She ignored him while she switched on the kettle to make tea. "And you're surprised because…?" she wondered. She then perched on the edge of a chair while she waited for the kettle to boil and decided what she would grab to eat. "Really Jack, I don't understand why you are so desperate to know."

Jack scowled at Donna. "I don't understand why you aren't. Are you unwell?"

"No, it's just a hangover, thanks," she tritely responded.

"So funny," he sneered. "I'm amazed that you don't cut yourself with that tongue. Martha!" he happily greeted her appearance downstairs in the kitchen. "Did you sleep with our John last night? Finally had your wicked way with him, hmm?" he partially teased.

"No!" Martha hastily denied as she helped herself to some coffee before joining them at the table. "I was nowhere near him. As far as I know he was out with Donna and the rest of their astrophysics class."

That gave Jack an idea. He turned to ask her, "Who's the hottest person in your astrophysics class, Donna?"

The kettle pinged off.

"How would I know?! It could be me," she countered as she bustled about, now making fresh tea.

"Yeah, sure!" He laughed loudly in disbelief, so she glared at him. "Not that I'm saying you are unattractive or anything…"

"Except you are," Donna pointed out. "Don't worry, you're forgiven. Nobody could ever accuse me of being a 'hottie'. More of a 'nottie', if I'm honest."

"That's not true!" Martha protested in her defence.

"Thanks, Martha. I knew you were my friend," Donna gratefully acknowledged. "Unlike some people I could mention."

"I've never said you are ugly," John guilty groaned out from behind his hands.

"True." It didn't then help that she remembered what he HAD said to her in the heat of passion. Trying to fight off any revealing blush, she offered, "So ... Who's up for a hangover busting full English breakfast?"

"We've got no bacon, or sausages," Martha listed, "or eggs."

"Then I'd better get my bum in gear and go buy some supplies," Donna stated decisively." Anything I can get you while I'm there, John? Alka Seltzers, new stomach, magic wand, memory loss?"

He emerged from his cocoon to answer, "Just something that will stop me feeling sick, please." He smiled as pleasantly as he could at her in the circumstances. "And Donna… Thanks."

With a nod of acknowledgement, she was gone.

~o0o~

A/N2: an unedited version of this can be found on AO3.