When Troy was younger he used to have fantasies about dating girls who turned out to be guys in drag. Sometimes, of course, it went the other way around and there were girls who sneaked their way onto the football team and asked him to fuck them in the locker room showers, but some of his wet dreams were filled with dudes wearing skirts and bras, and he would only find out the truth when they were making out in the front seat of the car. In the dream, he would feign surprise and disgust but it would never stop him from grabbing himself and coming into his bedsheets.
Of course, that was a long time ago and he's changed a lot since then. Supposedly. Now the memory of that semi-wet dream fantasy shit seems almost as ridiculous as...well, as Abed in that dumb wig.
"Lose the wig, man," he says as they shut the door to Abed's dorm.
Abed hesitates as he sets the tripod down, but throws the wig into a corner. "I don't look much like a girl now."
"You never looked much like a girl."
Abed shrugs. "Do you really want to do this?"
"What kind of stupid question is that?" snaps Troy, even though he knows that it's probably a reasonable one. They've avoided talking about this because it's not something Abed's mind normally gravitates to and Troy has been purposefully keeping away from the whole subject of just what exactly he and Abed have going on, but it probably occurs to both of them that Abed Nadir/Troy Barnes' Kickpuncher might be the easiest way to get it all out in the open. There's something very formalized about a filmed sex scene, even if one of you is in partial drag and the other is wearing a robot arm.
"You probably could lose the robot arm," says Abed. "And the headpiece."
"But then I won't look like a robot."
Abed tilts his head to the side. "You were a pretty good-looking robot. But I think we could assume that the Kickpuncher allows his human side to come out when engaging in such a personal interaction."
"It could be a metaphor for something."
Troy nods. "That's cool." He slides off all the robot shit and then, after a second's thought, takes off his shirt as well. "Abed?"
Abed's staring thoughtfully at Troy's shoulders and his pecs and his stomach and probably bit lower than that. "Yeah?"
"It takes two people to do a sex scene."
"I want to film some of your reactions first."
"Of your face, so I can cut to them during the rest of the scene."
"Oh. Sure." Troy sits down on the futon and Abed turns on the camera. "So, you want, like, orgasm faces?"
Abed's lips twitch. "I want something like your face if I did this."
"Abed--" Troy is at first very impressed at Abed's ability to unbuckle someone else's belt with only one hand, and then even more at his ability to keep the camera steady even as he draws Troy's dick out of his underwear. "Jesus Christ, Abed."
"That's probably good enough," says Abed. He lets go and leaves Troy still really fucking hard. He looks way too calm and analytical. "I think that's enough footage."
"If you say so," says Troy, breathing heavily and trying to keep from coming. He closes his eyes and feels Abed move away from him. "I guess you're the director." Troy opens his eyes as he hears the camera click into place on the tripod. "How do you want to do this?"
"Well, it won't be the best shot, of course," Abed says. "But I think I can keep us in the frame if you'll just lay out flat on the futon. No, like this." Abed positions him very carefully so he's lying face-up on the futon, and then starts tugging down the waistband of Troy's jeans for him. "It won't be easy," he mutters. "The lighting will probably--" He stops when Troy grabs him by the neck and kisses him for the first time. Abed's always been a very distracted kisser, so he continues muttering about the composition of the shot into Troy's ear as they pull away. Troy kicks his jeans all the way off, but he flings them too hard. They knock down the lamp so that now the only light is coming from the desk at the other end of the room. "Damn," says Abed, pushing himself up. "That was our key light."
"I don't care," says Troy, grabbing the stupid pink sweater and drawing it over Abed's head in one motion. "I don't give a flying fuck if--" he stops dead as his hand runs into something between Abed's shoulder blades. "Are you wearing a bra?" he asks, breathing heavily now.
"You asked me to," says Abed mildly, his hands traveling back down Troy's stomach to his dick which has just gotten, if possible, even harder.
"I know, I know," says Troy, nearly shuddering with the effort of not coming. In the semi-darkness it's almost like the stupid fantasies again, and he wants to pretend to be surprised again by what he's found, but he can't manage any disgust because this is Abed and nothing about this feels like an anomaly. It feels like the logical extension of their friendship or whatever they had going on.
"I couldn't get any women's underpants or anything," says Abed, talking softly into Troy's hair as Troy begins rubbing the flimsy cups of the bra where they go over Abed's nipples. "I hope that's ok."
"I think it'll be all right, Abed." Troy bites lightly at the hollow of his throat and Abed draws in breath very quickly.
"I know I'm supposed to be the girl," says Abed, "but I could fuck you, if you wanted. You won't be able to tell on the video, probably, or we could just pretend I'm a woman with a strap-on or something."
Troy laughs as he draws Abed's pants and underwear off for him. "I don't care. Either one. Fuck me."
Abed very thoughtfully had the lube lying on the table beside the futon, but of course Troy has knocked it off along with the lamp. By the time Abed's scrambled around on the floor and found it, Troy thinks he's probably going to go crazy with all of it. Abed takes his sweet time fucking him from the front, of course, but he seems very dedicated to doing it right so Troy tries not to sound too impatient. He grabs at Abed's back, at his own dick, at the lacy cups of the bra under his hands and runs his hands under all the areas the rough fabric of the bra meets the skin. Finally he can't take it anymore and when Abed squeezes his dick just once, Troy comes all over his somach and probably Abed's, too, with a cry of genuine surprise this time.
"I think it'll be a good take anyway," says Abed after he has exhaled deeply and collapsed on top of him.
They lay there for a few seconds in silence before Abed hands him the towel that thankfully didn't get knocked off the side table with the lube. "It's really dumb," Troy finally says hoarsely as Abed grabs a blanket from the other end of the futon, "but I've always had a thing about fucking guys dressed up like girls. Even, like, really half-assedly dressed as girls. Isn't that dumb?"
He can feel Abed shrug as he cleans up their stomachs. "I suppose it's appropriate."
"When I was a kid I really liked Transformers," says Abed as he throws the blanket over them. It's always a little hard to tell, but Troy thinks he might be a little embarrassed, but you can also just make out him grinning a little in the dim light. "So sometimes I'd think about having sex with a guy dressed up as a robot."
There's a pause before Troy draws Abed into an embrace and starts laughing, not unkindly but very deeply. He stops eventually, but starts again every so often, shaking the futon and keeping Abed from falling asleep for some time.