#erchills

"Jeff!" Annie squirms against the shelf digging into her back, pressing a hand flatly against Jeff’s chest (so so solid chest) to try to get some room. "Back up! You’ll get my blouse all wrinkled."

Jeff snorts a laugh, throwing an arm around her waist that pulls her pelvis firmly into his (well, his thighs to be technical. Height. Difference.) “I have a reputation to maintain, Annie. I can’t have you leaving this closet without looking a little rumpled.”

Grateful for the dark, Annie feels her cheeks heat and closes her eyes. “This is such a bad idea. Bad bad bad bad ba-“ 

She’s cut off when his mouth presses to hers. She has a minute of oh this is familiar and has it really been FOUR years?! before her mind shuts off and she starts running on instinct. She stretches to try to get a grip on him, pressing her torso flat to his, trusting him to hold her in place.

He doesn’t disappoint.

His lips are all over hers, his tongue going from teasing to taunting to savoring with each new touch. Annie opens her mouth further, determined to match him beat for beat. 

If she only has seven minutes, she’s going to make the most of them.

She finally lets one hand twist in his hair, glorying in the fact that he’s too distracted to notice, and holds his jaw with the other. 

He keeps one arm wrapped around her waist to anchor her while his other hand starts to map the curve of her hip, then her ass, then up up up until she’s cradled in his palm, the tip of one thumb brushing against her nipple. Annie moans into his mouth and bites at his upper lip, which he apparently likes very much, if the way he pins her to the shelf behind her is any indication.

Dimly, Annie can hear the pounding of the blood in her head. (Or is that his blood? His heart is beating so wildly against her chest that Annie is almost concerned enough to stop. Almost.) She pulls her mouth from his, reveling in the pouty noise he makes before she runs her teeth over his chin and down his jawline, pressing sucking kisses to the skin there. 

"Annie," Jeff groans, moving his legs so his thigh is between hers and Annie loses control of her body as her hips surge forward until he’s pressed right there, right where she needs him most.

She’s using everything she has on that patch of skin right below his ear - teeth, lips, tongue. His thumb doubles speed on her nipple and Annie thinks “heaven” is an appropriate name for this, because this surely must be what that glorious reward feels like, wrapped in the arms of Jeff Winger in a supply closet at Greendale.

She would happily spend an eternity this way.

Her eternity comes to a blinding halt when the door is thrown open.