Warning: Suggestive themes and profanity.
A/N: I thought it'd be rather interesting doing a Jonesy/Nikki one-shot set during their college years.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Jonesy smacked his fingers against his keyboard; he tried searching for the right words, but to no avail. He slammed his head against the desk he'd been working at for hours, causing some coffee in a mug beside him to ripple. It was probably cold by now. He heard the bedroom door squeaking as it opened and closed, but didn't bother looking up.
"Still working on that term paper?"
His voice muffled, he said, "Yeah, and it's a bitch to write."
Even with an outline, he was still lost. On top of that, this was only his first draft, and he had so much work to do upon completing it—one thing he hated doing. To finish what he planned on doing tonight, he would need a few more cups of coffee, some pizza, and a catnap. (Maybe in that order.)
"I know the feeling."
No, she didn't. He knew she was a natural-born writer. Though no one was immune to the stress of research papers, she always had the right words strung together. It was in her blood, her DNA, her everything—even her grandmother had been a writer. Though writing wasn't embedded in his genes, he lifted his head, finally thinking of another few sentences to write. If he worked at this rate, hopefully he would only need some pizza.
Nikki studied him. Normally he'd give up and put off his assignments until they were due, stressing himself out even further, but not this time. While he typed, she said, "I don't think I've ever seen you work so hard. Come to think of it, you've actually managed to work hard this entire year."
"Well, for once I don't completely hate my courses." He rubbed a palm against the back of his neck. "And I just want to amount to something by the end of this year, you know? I don't want to be that kid goofing off at parties all the time." She remained silent, an indicator of her narrowing her eyes at him. "Okay, I wanna goof off at parties sometimes, but I want a degree, too."
She snorted. "Aw, babe, you're finally stepping into maturity—and all it took was junior year for you to come to your senses."
His brow furrowed. "Not helping."
"Oh well."
He rested his head against the keyboard, not yet admitting defeat, but rather losing his grip on what he needed to continue.
"I know I asked earlier, but are you sure you don't need to take a break?"
He dragged a hand across his face, rubbing the boredom out his eyes. "Yeah… Maybe… Ugh, I don't know. Wanna watch a movie or something?"
"Mmm, I've got something better in mind."
He spun around in his chair, about to ask what she'd planned before his mouth went agape.
Nikki posed seductively on their bed, kneeling and facing him. She ran a hand through her short black hair, pulling back the only remaining lock of purple. Daring to move his focus away from her, he noticed her black bra and underwear lying on the ground. She only wore one of his T-shirts, which fit her small torso like a dress. He met her bedroom eyes, energy now surging through him. (This was way more risqué than their high school "study breaks.")
"Holy shit."
He leaped out his seat—quickly stripping down to his boxers—and plopped onto the bed. He took her into his arms and pressed his lips against hers. Breathing heavily, he caught a whiff of fragrant lavender and began kissing her neck.
She ran her fingers through his hair just as he slipped his hand up her shirt. (Technically, it was his shirt, but he found it more attractive on her.) She rested in his lap, smiling as she moaned softly.
Before the situation headed down an inevitably intense road, he said, "Babe, keep this up and I think I'll end up writing my term paper about you."
"Trust me, Jonesy—by the time I'm through with you, you'll be struggling to write your name."
"Is that a challenge?"
She grinned, running a finger down his abs. "It's a promise."