Apr 20, 2021
Let’s hang out -- to the DEATH!
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Let’s hang out -- to the DEATH!
I had to write my new best friend @scruffylooking-nerfherders some fic because I am drunk and they INSPIRE ME.
_______________
“Abed, Abed, Abed. Do you want to trade cards?”
“No.”
“I’ll give you twenty bucks.”
“No.”
“Fifty bucks.”
“No. Don’t want your money, I want your shirt.”
“What?” The comment catches Jeff off guard, throws off the rhythm of his normal sarcasm and banter.
“I’ve had my eye on it since registration.”
“Alright fine, give me your card.” Jeff reaches over his desk, already thinking about the amazing lines he’s going to use on Britta while they’re forced to work together. Abed jerks the card away, and Jeff’s eyebrows shoot up in exasperation.
“I don’t think you understand, I want to wear it out of here,” Abed says. Jeff’s eyebrows, already raised to alarmingly sarcastic heights, manage to lift even higher.
“Fine,” he says through gritted teeth. The things I do for even the potential of sex. He unbuttons his shirt quickly, without ceremony, and thrusts it towards Abed. And Abed...
Abed hasn’t moved. His head is cocked to the left, his eyes roaming over Jeff’s bare torso. Jeff tells himself that the flush on his cheeks has everything to do with being shirtless in a classroom, and nothing to do with the way Abed’s tongue wets his lips before he says, “Cool.” He peels his shirt off slowly. “Cool cool cool.”
Jeff tries, and fails, to make himself to focus on the blue-and-turquoise striped monstrosity he’s going to be wearing. So what if his gaze settles a little too long on Abed’s fingers as they close Jeff’s shirt? Sue him, it’s Prada, he’s allowed to have an emotional goodbye.
A few minutes later, when Britta flashes him a card with a picture of a toilet on it, Jeff waits for the anger, for the righteous indignation. But the t-shirt clinging tightly to his chest smells a bit like hot chocolate and cologne, some weird nostalgic combination that makes it hard to be mad. In fact, he feels strangely content.
Oh for fuck’s sake, Jeff thinks, because it’s always easy for Jeff Winger to fake outrage. (He doesn’t think about why he wants to feel fake outraged).
He doesn’t hesitate to yell, “Yes!” when Pierce asks if he wants to sell his shirt.
(He regrets that moment, later in the evening, when Pierce is eight pages deep into a homophobic manifesto and the room reeks of what Pierce refers to as his “musk”. It takes every shred of self control he has to not rip his shirt off of Abed when he swings by the study room. The look Abed gives him, the way he says he wants to get some mileage out of this shirt.. it would be divine justice, wouldn’t it? Jeff deserved his Prada shirt back, and if said shirt happened to smell like a certain member of his study group? Well Jeff wasn’t going to read too much into that.)
Community (2009 - 2015)
Some Danny Pudi for the holiday season
six-seasonsandamovie : we all need to know that this indeed did occur.