A dumb little drabble to get back into the swing of writing
Jack/Nisha; cigarettes and smooches
God, it had been a long day. Especially if you were Hyperion CEO, Handsome Jack. Hours of meetings, meetings, a run through production design and then even more meetings. He never expected being CEO of a company would mean so much actual work. When would he get to the part with sitting by the pool, surrounded hot chicks and kicking back martinis? He whined softy to himself in the quiet darkness of his office.
Jack threw his file folders when he'd finally made it to his desk, not caring when some of them slid all the way to the floor in a mess of papers. He sighed and rolled his neck with a satisfying crack. He made his way to his plush office couch, flopping onto it before shifting to a more comfortable position. It was late on Helios station, and those of the inhabitants who didn't work the graveyard shift were tucked nice and neat in their own beds, and unlikely to bother him anytime soon. He breathed deep the smoke between his fingers, letting it rush through his lungs and then back out again. The new-founded CEO rubbed at the bridge of his nose with a thumb, eyes closed and fingers poised around the end of his cigarette. He was too tired to even hear the doors to his office slide open.
"And here we see a code money in his natural habitat."
Jack's limbs jerked sharply,and he sat up in shock, cig hanging from his lip. He blinked rapidly at the sight of his girlfriend, fresh from mission, ascending the stairs to his level. He'd sent her out on a job not even twenty four hours ago, was she done with it already?
"Nish'? " He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and pushed his glasses back up from where they'd slid down his face. "What are you, uh, doing here?"
"I didn't know you smoked." She brushed off his question in favor of jerking her head at the offending item. "Interesting." When she finally reached the couch he could see the bloodstains still drying on her clothes, the sharpness to her wicked gaze, a predator's look. Super fresh, then. He worked his jaw and looked at the smoking stick between his fingers before shrugging.
"Aren't you supposed to be doing a job for me, pumpkin?"
"Did it." She swung a leg over him, pushing him hard back down onto the couch as she straddled his hips. She ignored his affronted noise before a few more rough movements made him shut up entirely, jaw closing so fast she could hear his teeth click together . "And if you call me pumpkin again I'll castrate you." She grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the cigarette and brought the filter to her lips, still squeezed between his fingers, and took a long drag of it. She blew the smoke out with a sigh, right into her lover's face. He watched with rapt attention, heart beating a little faster with all the hot and heavy tension between them. Mmm, he loved it when she talked dirty. He slipped his arm from her grip to take his own drag from the now purple lipstick stained filter, eyes never leaving hers. He could taste her on it, and it made a shiver run up his spine.
There was a smirk playing on her painted lips and she leaned down to kiss him, smoke swirling blown between them and Jack breathed it in eagerly, far too weak to her touch. She bit him and he moaned low in his throat, a not so gentle scrape of teeth against his bottom lip, hard enough that he'd feel it later. Another slide of tongue, a fist pulling at his shirt, at his neck, and Jack felt a little breathless, lungs tight and distracted from everything but the woman on top of him. He payed the price for it soon enough, breaking the kiss with a loud yelp when his cigarette burned his fingers with it's embers. She sat back up, laughing at his pouting misfortune. He'd be more annoyed at her, but the exhausted haze had already washed over him, leaving a buzz in his veins and he reached to flick the remainder of his cigarette out on the floor before relaxing back to look up at Nisha. She was lucky he liked mean.
"So, how'd it go?"
"Good." She purred at him, also affected by the haze. "Well-- not good. It was too fast. Everything died too quickly." She pulled a little harder on his collar, tone full of irritation. "You goin’ soft on me, Jackie?" That was the second mission he'd put her on that wasn’t even worth her time. Could it be he was actually worried about her getting hurt? The thought made her want to laugh. Either way, it was starting to get more than a little annoying. She came to Pandora for the challenge, not this weak, wooby shit.
He furrowed his brows, splitting a smile up at her like opening of a wound. "I'm never soft with you around." He winked suggestively and she had the urge to smack him right in his stupid masked face. Instead Nisha just rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of his glasses between her fingers, slowly pulling them off his face before setting them to the side. She'd remember to tease him relentlessly for them later; at the moment she was too tired, and wanted nothing more than to rest in peace for a few hours, at the very least.
The law-bringer patted his side in a gesture to get him to scoot over. He complied, and they squeezed together on his tiny couch, legs propped up and tangled together, two pairs of boots dangling over the end. She tilted her hat back and propped her head on a hand, letting Jack wrap around her as per his usual, resting his head under her chin. He buried his face into the fabric of her shirt, sighing with sleepy content.
"You smell like Pandora." He said. It's muffled through her shirt and accompanied by a wrinkling of his nose against her collar bone. Like blood and dust and sunlight. And something else. Something that made him itch, somewhere deep in the back of his skull.
"And you smell like you've been in this office too long." She retorted affectionately. Like code monkey. He laughed, pulling back enough to look up at her. He couldn't really argue with her there.
She ran her fingers through his hair, and they both enjoyed the few moments of quiet warmth; it was quite a rarity for the both of them, violence being what they usually thrived on. He leaned in to kiss her caramel skin, just above the leather collar she wore and felt the petting fingers tighten their grip. He smiled slyly through his wince as she started pulling, his breath puffing hot. Jack let his tongue wander just under her chin, despite the subtle warning, let his teeth scrape gently and hummed when the burn on his scalp got hotter. Nisha tasted like salt and blood and, wow, they both really needed a bath, didn't they. He pulled back to smirk up at her, hissing at the hand that wandered under his shirt to drag it's nails sharply down his back.
The touches turned to the gentle side as he relaxed further into her, and he started to doze off as the warmth seeped into his bones. Nisha had been a welcome distraction to his day, but he didn't have the energy to do anything now but end it. Too many hours clocked in. Too many days without proper rest.
She snorted softly in amusement, hand returning to his hair. She pet him until he fell asleep for the first time in what felt like weeks, and she felt herself following not far behind. She gave in to a lusty yawn, patting his unconscious cheek.
Give the person who gave you the dare a slow, sensual lap dance.
Jack bites his bottom lip, circling the spot where she sits, watching him intently, waiting for him to show his stuff. He’s never really done this before, but he knows how it works. He’s stripped down to just his jeans and the ever-present Hyperion issued shirt that’s rolled up to his elbows (so not that stripped, but he likes it better when she does it). The way she’s looking at him, smug, and like he’s a goddamned feast she’s ready to devour, makes sweat drip down his back, the room feels way too stuffy and now he’s nervous, and he’s never nervous, but Nisha makes him feel all kinds of thing he usually doesn’t.
He plucks her weathered mauve cowboy hat from her head and sets it over his own, his arms sliding around her shoulders and leaning down so he can whisper where only she can hear. “I think I kinda like this dare.” He kisses her tanned neck when she leans into him, closing his eyes and enjoying the quiet moment between them. He slips away to saunter back around and swing a heeled boot over so he can sit over her legs and sliiides slowly into her lap, as close as he physically can. This really would be better with music, but he didn’t have time to set anything up.
He works his hips, going as slow as he can manage even with the liquid heat crawling up his spine. He’s suddenly very glad for the mask over his face; it was starting to feel way too hot under his own skin. His mind won’t stop traveling to all the other fun things they could be doing, but oh yeah, he’s supposed to be doing a lap dance or, something. He can’t remember anymore. He makes a low sound in his throat when he feels her fingers grip his hips and wow, he really wishes they were somewhere more private right now.
Jack clears his throat, feeling a little lightheaded from how close they were, (god, was he w e a k), he looks at her without bothering to hide the pleading look in his eyes. “So can we uh, call it a night and move this to the bedroom—- or would you prefer the ‘right here, right now' approach?”
