Troy had never really considered the idea before, but once he was confronted with it he couldn’t deny the facts: Abed looked really sexy in a girl’s outfit. Troy had never really thought of himself as even a little bit gay, couldn’t really afford to as big man on campus, but standing here in an empty room with no one but his (very attractive) best friend who had asked him if it was alright if they did the sex scene together sort of fried Troy’s brain.
“. . .You sure Britta couldn’t do your part?” he asked, removing his mask.
“I asked her. She wasn’t available,” said Abed, his face blank. Troy swallowed hard.
“Let’s go film the sex scene,” he said. Behind him he heard Abed shuffle uncomfortably.
Well, at least he wasn’t the only uncomfortable one.
Abed didn’t need to set up any cameras when they got back to his dorm. Troy knew he filmed his day to day life with tiny video cameras in his room in case anything interesting happened or he needed an alibi someday; Abed had made him sign a release form the first time he had come over just to make sure Troy was ok with being filmed. Troy wasn’t sure if he was more or less glad that the cameras weren’t very intrusive; either way he wasn’t sure he wanted this filmed at all. However, when Abed grabbed him by the hand and directed him to sit on the bottom bunk, Troy’s brain went a bit fuzzy and he stopped caring whether or not he was being filmed.
Abed didn’t sit down on the bunk beside him, but stood in front of him stiffly and started giving him directions in a monotone that almost convinced Troy that Abed wasn’t nervous. However, when he looked at Abed’s dilated eyes and saw that he was applying much more chapstick than usual, Troy realized that Abed was freaking out on the inside almost as much as Troy was.
“. . .and I’m pretty sure either bunk would be pretty terrible for filming. You can’t really see the top of the scene if you lie on the bottom and you might hit your head and the top bunk is a hazard so I think we should just film from the floor and put down a few blankets and pillows for a makeshift bed.”
Troy nodded dumbly towards everything, increasingly aware of the tension in the room and the way Abed kept licking his lips. He knew he wasn’t supposed to and wasn’t even supposed to want to, but he couldn’t help fantasizing about what they would feel like on his mouth, his chest, his dick. . .
That, unfortunately, was already hard. A large part of Troy hoped Abed didn’t notice, but a smaller part really, really hoped that he did. Abed cleared his throat; Troy wondered how long it had been since Abed had stopped talking; he wondered if he had been staring.
“We should do it now,” said Abed, “you still have dance class today.”
“Oh!” said Troy, blinking hard and smiling way larger than he intended to, “right, dance. Ok, so I guess I’ll just. . .”
He ducked out from under the bunk bed, stood toe to toe with Abed, put one hand on Abed’s face and the other on the small of his back, and kissed him enthusiastically, overselling it for the camera initially, but melting into it despite himself as soon as Abed began to respond. They stayed kissing like that for a while until Abed slid his tongue into Troy’s mouth, exploring the new territory with intensity. Troy felt for Abed’s hair; when he grabbed for it and found the woman’s wig he moaned into Abed’s mouth and pulled him in tighter. In response, Abed began to fiddle with the Kickpuncher belt around Troy’s waist. Troy took that as the ok to take the scene to the floor.
The scene was a bit unwieldy at first on the ground. Troy had to be careful to not poke Abed in the eye with his mask as they sat down, which was a bit more difficult the more disheveled he got. Thankfully, eventually Abed said,
“You can take off the mask now. Kickpuncher wasn’t attached to his bionic eye, so I don’t think the audience will mind.”
He stared Troy right in the eyes; Troy wondered whether it was really the audience or Abed whose feelings on the matter mattered more at this point. He stopped thinking about it as Abed started to suck on his neck; he threw the mask across the room, probably a little bit more forcefully than he should have.
“This scene is gonna be so good in the movie,” he said quietly as he began to move his hand underneath Abed’s sweater. He also reached up just underneath the wig and pulled a little bit on the hair at the nape of Abed’s neck as he tilted Abed’s head away from his own neck so he could begin to kiss his chin. Abed opened his mouth, seemingly to agree, but all that escaped was a pleased gasping squeak. Troy laughed.
“Take off my clothes, Kickpuncher,” said Abed in a high pitched, camera-loud voice, “I need to have you right now.”
Troy wrestled Abed out of his sweater without pause and pushed him to the ground. His eyes roved over Abed’s body, taking note of his toned abs and chest and his long neck. His eyes fixated on the bra that Abed was wearing as he pulled out of his own shirt, careful to not mess up the well-crafted tinfoil on his arm.
“Anything for you, lady Kickpuncher,” he said as he began to suck Abed’s neck and pull at the button on Abed’s pants. Together they managed to wiggle them off; the fact that Abed was hard too made Troy very pleased. Abed tried to remove the Kickpuncher waist piece as Troy moved his attention down towards Abed’s chest, feeling up under the bra and kissing and sucking around it before reaching behind Abed and removing it completely.
He and Abed were skin on skin now except for their underwear.
“Should we take off-“ he began to ask, but Abed shook his head.
“I want to keep this rated R. Pull the blanket over your back so nothing shows.”
Troy pulled it over and then crushed his mouth to Abed’s, curling his fingers through the wig once more. Then he tentatively framed his legs around Abed’s left leg and moved his right hand to Abed’s back and his left hand to lie next to Abed’s cock.
“Take me, David!” shouted Abed. Troy took that as his cue to start thrusting. He fondled Abed’s package outside of his underwear as it rubbed up against his right leg; Abed groaned and thrusted back eagerly. They resumed kissing with fervor, alternately exploring each others’ faces and necks; Abed’s hands roamed around Troy’s stomach for a long while before settling on his ass. In response, Troy pushed harder against Abed’s leg and dick; they both moaned. For a while, both of them moved in unison, breathing hard and keeping an equilibrium, but eventually Troy started to feel a tingling in his stomach; he leaned down chest to chest with Abed and whispered in his ear,
“Uh. . .I think I’m getting close to. . .you know- Sorry, should we stop?”
Abed panted and, looking exactly like he wanted the opposite to happen, said, “. . .yeah. I think we got the shots we needed for today.”
Trying to not let his disappointment show, he rolled off of Abed and out from under the blanket. He felt at his body, which was slick with sweat and saliva; like a mind reader, Abed threw him a towel.
“There’s a shower across the hall,” he said in an unnaturally loud voice, “You can come grab your dance clothes when you’re done.”
The cold shower he took in the communal bathroom was probably the worst one he ever took in his entire life, but there was no way in hell he was jerking off in a communal bathroom that he wasn’t even paying to use.
He tried not to imagine Abed, who didn’t have dance lessons next, jerking off in his dorm room, still in the wig with his body (probably) covered in hickeys. Abed who was his best friend and who was definitely getting off just because if you simulate a sex scene for too long it just happens like that, not because it was Troy or Kickpuncher or anything at all.
When he was finished, Abed let him back inside the room, now fully clothed and wigless. He turned his back as Troy got dressed. For a moment, the air was dead and awkward, but then Troy said,
“So I was thinking, tomorrow we could watch Pretty in Pink. I’ve never seen it.”
The tension deflated out of the room; Troy wasn’t going to make Abed deal with anything he wasn’t ready to.
“I’ll buy popcorn if you buy the soda,” he said as Troy turned around.
“You know it,” he said as they did their handshake.
“Cool. Cool cool cool.”
Troy breathed a sigh of relief as he left for dance. If he was honest with himself (and he was trying not to be) he wasn’t sure if he was any more ready to deal with what had happened than Abed was.
If they were both honest with each other, maybe they could figure it out the next time.