Jeff/Craig fic!
Title: Not Quite Unexpected
Author: Seussian
Pairing: Jeff/Craig
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slight d/s overtones? Nothing major.
Notes: Thanks to my beta EJZ for unsticking my brain. XD Also posted on AO3
Jeff had encountered some bizarre things at Greendale. He had gotten drunk with Abed, performed epic theater with Pierce, and debated football and women with Troy. He’d even shopped for baby sweater vests with Shirley. He’d done a lot of things with the group in his time at Greendale, but he had yet to be truly out of his depth.
Until today.
Today, Craig “the Dean” Pelton showed up at his apartment, holding a backpack and a handful of Twizzlers, crying.
“What the hell?” Jeff blurted.
“Jeff...I....” He seemed to bend under the weight of the backpack slung over his shoulder.
“Dean Pelton? What are you doing here? How did you find out where I live?” Jeff leaned into his doorframe and peered through the gap left by the safety chain.
“Jeff...” he squeezed the Twizzlers tighter in his hand and swayed forward. “Jeffrey, I’ve lost everything. I’ve lost Greendale.” And with those words, the Dean sobbed and his knees buckled.
Jeff didn’t manage to catch him before he hit the ground, but he blamed it on the safety chain and pure bewildered shock.
***
Craig came to on Jeff’s couch. In all the ways he’d imagined blinking awake to Jeff’s face above his, this wasn’t one of them. Craig turned away, curling into the back cushions and covering his face with his elbow.
“Dean? You alright?” Jeff asked, sitting on the coffee table and leaning over Craig.
“...Not really.” Craig took a deep breath and turned back over to look at Jeff. “I lost control of the school to Dean Spreck. He bet me that Greendale had a lower general tolerance for alcohol-induced mania than City College, and I took it. By the way, I’m sorry for yesterday’s ‘Rum-bo Limbo’ cocktail tasting. I meant to add more water to the margaritas, but our water purifiers broke and it was less hazardous to pour straight liquor than add water from the fountains. I got a little carried away with some of the recipes.” Craig coughed. “I’m not sure when Spreck showed up, but he gave me something called a ‘Nuclear Warhead’ and they were just so tasty! They were like lime-flavored candy canes. They had Twizzler straws! How could I resist?” Craig turned to Jeff and begged him wordlessly to forgive him.
Jeff winced. “I’ve had those. They’re vicious.” They were also the cause of the epic hangover Jeff had spent all morning fighting off with cardio and a special guava cleanse that tasted like ass but worked wonders.
“I know!” Craig whined. “I only meant to have one, but I kept winning and he kept betting, and...” Craig stopped. “I don’t know what possessed me. He said Greendale wouldn’t stand a chance in a head-to-head Macaren-off and I said I bet the Dean’s desk and all its power that we would triumph against anyone - even City College - and then, well. You remember.”
Jeff did, sort of. He remembered that hideous song coming over the loudspeaker at the gym and the announcement blaring that a Macarena dance-off was happening between Greendale and the students of City College who had infiltrated their dance. Jeff remembered drunkenly hitting on a potted fern and being carried out by Starburns and Pierce, of all people. They’d argued over the level of alcohol saturation that caused permanent liver damage and its relative harm compared to keeping a meth lab in the trunk of one’s car, at which point Jeff apparently passed out, while Greendale presumably gave a poor showing on the floor at the Macarena.
It wasn’t the group’s fault. Annie, Troy, and Abed weren’t even there. They had claimed to be watching a special edition of the Watchmen DVD and were therefore too busy to come to the Limbo dance. Shirley had been too busy with her kids to stay for more than a half-hour. Britta left in disgust when the DJ continued to play novelty ‘90s dance jams with no sign of stopping. Even she wasn’t that ironically nostalgic.
“Yeah,” Jeff said, “I remember. Sorry. The group wasn’t really on deck for that one.” Craig sighed again.
“It’s fine, it wouldn’t have mattered. Spreck had ringers in the crowd waiting to beat Greendale. I mean, Vicki, Garrett, and Leonard tried, but without your study group, it was hopeless from the beginning.” Craig ducked back into the couch cushions.
Jeff flinched a bit. He may not have been 100% on board with the whole Greendale ‘teamwork’ thing, but he couldn’t deny the clout of the group, and the undeniable fact that with the group’s influence, the Dean probably wouldn’t have lost the school to City College.
He stopped himself abruptly and asked, “Dean, wait. How could you have lost control of Greendale? It was a ridiculous bet! How can that even be binding?”
“Spreck had some papers. His bodyguard gave them to me. I, well. Kind of signed them. Without knowing exactly what they said.” Craig never shifted from the cave the curves of his arms created.
“Dean.” Jeff sighed. He had to think quickly. He knew that City College would take immediate advantage of whatever the Dean had done and if too much time was given to them, Greendale would never be the same. Jeff, disgusted as he was to be in this position, had to do something. “It’ll be okay. I’ll call the study group.”
Jeff lifted pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed the first number to come to mind.
“Britta! Hey, it’s Jeff. Listen, we have a problem. No, this isn’t BCI.”
***
“Abed! Hi, how are you? It’s Britta...oh, right. Caller ID. Um, anyway, Greendale is having a situation, and we need your help. You, Troy, Annie...oh. Um, sure you guys can wear costumes...”
***
“Pierce, it’s Troy! Wazzup!? Ah...um...heh...really? Two of them? Twins? No way, a Moped? How did you get them on at the same time...? That’s disgusting. So, listen, we’ve got a thing happening at Greendale...”
***
“Shirley? It’s Pierce. No, don’t hang up!”
***
“Ben? Am I interrupting something? It’s just, I hear angry voices in the background. Oh, sure, the television. Anyway, it’s Shirley, and I have a favor to ask you...no, it’s definitely NOT babysitting...”
***
Jeff hung up the phone and turned back to Craig.
“I called Britta; she’ll call everyone else. We’ll take care of this Spreck douche. The dance was less than 24 hours ago, so he won’t have had time to do any permanent damage.” He smiled at Craig and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder.
“Really? You think you guys can fix what I’ve done?”
“Sure! The group can do anything, especially when Greendale is on the line. We’ll fight for it, and...stuff.” Jeff stuttered to a stop. Craig had turned over onto his back to look at Jeff and his shirt had ridden up over his stomach, leaving a pale but impressively muscular strip of flesh visible over the waistband of his pants. He was wearing his standard uniform of khakis and a short-sleeve button-down with a striped tie. The shirt had come untucked when the Dean had fainted, giving him a rumpled sort of allure.
“Thank you, Jeffrey,” he said sincerely.
“No problem, Dean. It’s all in a days’ work,” Jeff said. He pressed his hand lightly against the Dean’s shoulder and watched his eyelids flutter.
“You can call me Craig. If you want,” the Dean said, shaky and shy.
Jeff grinned. “Craig, huh? Alright, then. Craig, leave your worries behind. The Study Group will take control of Greendale back from City College and restore it to its rightful place: with Craig.” Jeff seemed to find the Dean’s real name a source of wry amusement, but as long as Jeff was working toward helping him Craig was hard-pressed to complain. He took in a breath and rubbed the side of his hand over his eyebrow, weak with relief and not a little shame.
“Hey, uh,” Jeff said. “I’m sorry Spreck didn’t turn out to be what you wanted. I know you guys kind of had a thing.”
“Oh, it’s okay. He wasn’t, I mean... He wasn’t who I wanted, anyway.” Craig couldn’t believe he’d said it, that he’d alluded so obviously to his infatuation with Jeff, and he covered his eyes with his hand before he could see Jeff recoil.
***
Jeff was taken aback. He knew - hell, everybody knew - that Dean Pelton had a big old-fashioned crush of Jeff, but for him to bring it up here, on the couch, with the Dean’s shirt untucked and his cheeks darkening with humiliation? Jeff didn’t need to see Craig’s eyes to read self-disgust in every line of his body.
“Craig. Come on now, it’s fine.” He seemed unconvinced. “Craig. Stop it. Stop that now,” Jeff said in a firm tone which made Craig swallow in surprise and peek out from underneath his hand. “It’s fine.” And it was fine. Jeff had always enjoyed the Dean’s attention and wildly inappropriate favoritism; he hated to see humiliation where there was usually leering interest. Jeff smiled and squeezed his shoulder. “Go take a shower, get yourself cleaned up. You look like you’ve been sleeping under a table all day.” Jeff smirked a bit at Craig’s startled expression and patted him. “You just take a quick nap here on the couch while we figure things out. Everything is going to be alright.” Jeff didn’t want the Dean to wallow in his own misery, and the only way to get around it was to take control. Besides, Craig was a pretty sweet guy with a remarkably cute butt, and Jeff felt a twinge of something other than pity when Craig’s lips parted in surprise at his command.
Craig nodded, casting his eyes over his grimy clothes in distaste. “I suppose you’re right, Jeffrey.” He pushed up off the couch before Jeff had a chance to stand, putting his crotch briefly at eye level before Jeff bolted off the coffee table and threw an arm out to point down the hallway.
“First door on the left. Um, I’ll bring you some sweats or something.” Jeff gave a tight grin and hurried off to his bedroom. “The code to the safe is my birthday!” He didn’t stop to tell him the date. He had a feeling - rightly so - that Craig knew Jeff’s birthday, and probably had his social security number memorized, too.
***
Craig wandered into the bathroom, flicking on the light and closing the door behind himself without bothering to lock it. It’s not like Jeff would be coming in here, stepping into the shower alongside him and asking for help washing his... Craig shook himself. He opened the tiny closet door and pulled out a towel, setting it on the lid of the toilet, starting the water in the same motion. Not noticing any soap or other toiletries in the shower, it occurred to him what Jeff meant about the safe. He knelt down and sure enough, under the sink was a locked safe which popped open when Craig entered Jeff’s birthday. Craig inhaled deeply the scent of Jeff’s shampoo, and he grabbed the organic soy butter body wash and Swedish mango face scrub to take with him.
Craig stepped into the shower, and began running a Jeff-scented washcloth over his skin.
***
Jeff hunted through his dresser for something that would fit the Dean. Jeff was over six feet tall, but Craig was barely 5’7” and finding something that wouldn’t drown Craig’s ankles in fabric was a challenge. Jeff unearthed a pair of old sweats from a bottom drawer, the kind with the cinched elastic at the ankles. Jeff hated them because they were just short enough to look really weird when he sat down, but on the Dean they should look just like the harem pants he always wore with his Arabian princess costumes.
Jeff spared a moment to be horrified at himself for knowing what harem pants were.
He pulled a shrunken Barenaked Ladies concert tee from his closet, reassuring himself that the Dean hadn’t been privy to that argument, and would therefore find nothing strange about Jeff owning such a thing, and set it with the pants. He debated lending Craig some underwear, but all of his were silk/soy/cotton blends with neon colors and designer labels. An image came to him of Craig swanning into the study room wearing Jeff’s BNL shirt and his underwear and he swallowed thickly in what he refused to believe was arousal.
Craig could just keep the sweats.
Jeff shuffled down the hallway and spent ten minutes trying to decide whether or not to leave the clothes just outside the door, or test the handle to see if it was open. The decision was taken from him when the water cut off and he heard Craig snap out the towel to dry off. He dropped the clothes on the floor and rapped twice on the door.
“Craig? There are clothes out here for you, um. To wear.” He retreated back into the living room before the Dean could come out. He sat on the coffee table again to await the Dean, popped up to grab blankets and a pillow from the entryway closet, and sat down again. He fiddled with the tag on the pillow until Craig came back, looking small and sweet in his too-big sweatpants. Jeff’s eyebrow lifted a little at the biceps peeking out from underneath the sleeves of the t-shirt, but he looked away as Craig sat on the couch.
“Thank you again, Jeffrey.” Craig sat down on the couch and put his hand on Jeff’s knee. “This is really nice of you.”
Craig smelled like his soap, and he was wearing Jeff’s shirt, and all at once Jeff heard Professor Whitman’s voice in the back of his head crying out, “Carpe diem, Mr. Winger!”
“What the hell,” he said to himself, giving Craig the briefest of moments to look confused before leaning over to kiss him.
*****
Craig, for all he had fantasized about making out with Jeff, had never imagined a reality where Jeff would initiate the kiss. He wasn’t prepared for any scenario where Jeff crossed the distance between them, wrapped his hand around his neck and licked into his mouth like he owned it. And yet. And yet that was exactly what was happening, and Craig took all of ten seconds to react, and when he did it was with a squeak, and then a helpless groan. Jeff pressed his thumb up under Craig’s jaw to tilt him to a better angle, and the control of it went straight to his dick.
Jeff pulled back, looked Craig in the eye, and smirked. He tugged the glasses from Craig’s face and set them behind him on the coffee table. For Craig, everything went hazy and dreamlike. He was nearsighted and could see only Jeff clearly. Everything behind him was an inconsequential blur. He blinked, and Jeff’s expression softened. He opened his mouth to say something, and Craig lunged forward to cut him off. He returned Jeff’s earlier favor and slid his tongue into Jeff’s mouth, sucking lewdly on his bottom lip and running his hand up Jeff’s knee to his hip. Jeff jerked forward, startled, and gave a grunt of approval.
The angle was awkward, though, and Jeff’s back started to hurt enough to challenge his cock for attention. Craig whined when he pulled away.
“Come on, wait. Like this,” Jeff said, and slid over to sit on the couch. He reached and pulled Craig up and over to straddle his legs. Craig gripped the back of the couch and ground down on his lap. They both gasped, Jeff’s hands moved to knead and pinch Craig’s cute ass, and Craig panted into Jeff’s mouth declarations of lust and love and adoration. The air between them grew hot, humid with sweat, and Jeff let go of Craig only to yank off his shirt, then his own. Craig’s hands skated over his chest, finding random spots to rub and obsess over while Jeff worried at Craig’s collarbone with his teeth.
Craig’s skin smelled like his body wash and Jeff felt drugged from it. He couldn’t get enough of Craig’s tight little body, its unexpected definition, and smooth, pale planes. He wanted more.
“Mmm, Craig... fuck, wait.” Ignoring him, Craig pinched one of Jeff’s nipples and rode the bucking of his hips. “Jesus! Hunnh....no, seriously, wait a second...Craig. Stop!” Jeff pushed Craig away, focusing intently on his eyes and not his flushed red mouth. “I have a bed. We’re going to get in it.”
****
Craig shuddered and curled his body over Jeff’s chest, resting his forehead against his shoulder. He tried not to come, but the thought of being in Jeff’s bed, of Jeff over him using that tone of voice, telling him to take it like he knew he wanted it... He clenched his teeth and rode out his orgasm, shivering in Jeff’s lap.
A few moments passed and Jeff lifted Craig’s head from his shoulder. The shame and humiliation from before were beginning to creep into Craig’s expression when Jeff smiled broadly at him.
“That was fucking hot,” Jeff said, smile loosening into an easy grin. “Now, get up, go down the hall, and get on the bed. Be naked when I get in there; I have to grab something from the kitchen.” He gave him a little slap on the ass and Craig scrambled to obey, clambering off Jeff’s lap and lurching unsteadily down the hall, knees weak from his orgasm. He felt a little dizzy, and a little stunned, but mostly he felt joyful, heart rattling apart to spill all sorts of wishes and wants at Jeff’s feet, and strangely enough, Jeff seemed to want them. Jeff wanted him there, in his bed, in his arms, and Craig felt like he could take on the whole world if Jeff wanted him to, Dean Spreck included.
He climbed onto what could, if one were being generous, be called a “statement piece” of a bed, but what would more accurately be described as a monstrosity by anyone who wasn’t about to get fucked in it. The bedspread had an elaborate ‘JTW’ embroidered on the center, and its midnight blue and silver motif seeped from the bed into every corner of the room. Craig wiggled out of the sticky sweatpants, throwing them near the door so he could remember to accidentally take them in the morning. He settled on top of the covers and snuggled into a matching set of luxurious feather pillows, inhaling Jeff’s scent and indulging himself in a few sighs of romantic heroine proportion. He sat up again when he heard Jeff coming back down the hall.
****
Jeff had taken the opportunity to stage a small, 45 second freak-out where he questioned every life decision he’d ever made. Sure, he’d always thought the Dean’s butt looked good in a pair of seersucker suit pants and his crush on Jeff was weirdly, flatteringly sweet, but Jeff was into women like Britta, wry and cool, or Annie, who was lush and bright and all too capable of making Jeff a “better person.” Craig was just this crazy, crossdressing administrator with unshakable pride in the world’s most ridiculous school.
Still, even though the study group had rolled their eyes at the Dean’s announcements and raised knowing eyebrows when the Dean “borrowed his costume from his sister” or organized yet another school function with a bad pun on the flyer, the Dean was an essential part of Greendale. He was eager to the point of delusion, and Jeff had always found his enthusiasm sort of charming in the way all of Greendale’s quirks were charming. And, well, if the Dean was charming, then Craig was just fucking adorable. Craig was shameless in his arms, and the noises he made while writhing around on Jeff’s lap were really doing things to his ego, among other things. He especially liked the way Craig’s pupils dilated and his breathing stuttered when Jeff bossed him around a little. He could imagine sneaking into the Dean’s office and being coerced into roleplaying “milkmaid and the stableboy” or “Dean Dangerous vs. alien sex god” all too easily and, instead of being turned off, Jeff found himself mentally reviewing his wardrobe for leather pants and smiling.
All this occurred in the 45 seconds it took him to rise from the couch, adjust himself in his pants, stride into the kitchen, and grab condoms from the cutlery drawer. He kept them there because the women he brought back to his apartment weren’t allowed in his bedroom; they were allowed in any of three pre-designated areas: the bathroom, the living room, and the balcony. This wasn’t any sort of privacy concern, nor did it have anything to do with keeping distance between himself and his one-night-stands. It had more to do with the fact that he kept his bed just so, and Jeff didn’t like people wrinkling his expensive sheets and getting long hairs on all the pillows.
Jeff was prepared to make an exception for Craig for many reasons, not the least of which being Craig’s lack of hair, and the fact that they were going to wrinkle the hell out of those sheets as a team. He smiled down at the condoms clutched in his hand and spun on his heel, walking loudly down the hall so Craig could hear him approach.
****
The door to the bedroom swung open, and Jeff came into view, standing there like so many ravishing scoundrels had in Craig’s fantasies. He was standing hip-shot against the door frame, leaning his shoulder into the wood and smirking, trailing his empty hand over the obvious bulge in his jeans. In his other hand he held...condoms? Craig’s eyes widened and his heart boomed in his chest.
“Jeffery,” he exhaled, looking up to meet Jeff’s playful eyes. Jeff held his stare as he crossed the room. He stopped at the side of the bed, swept his gaze down Craig’s naked body, and laid the condoms on the bedside table. He picked up Craig’s hands from where they laid limp on the covers and placed them on his belt buckle. Craig didn’t need to be told what to do, and he rose up on his knees to face Jeff, flicking the buckle open and drawing the leather from the belt loops and dropping it on the floor. He kept his eyes lowered, demure and a little shy. He slipped the button loose and tugged down the zipper, then hesitantly lifted his head to look at Jeff through his lashes.
“Go ahead, Craig,” Jeff murmured. “Take them off.” Craig’s cheeks darkened, but he slid his hands to Jeff’s hips and shoved the fabric of his jeans down, taking the brightly patterned boxer-briefs with it. He pushed until they fell, then Craig looked at Jeff’s body. He was beautiful. Everything about Jeff was beautiful, but his cock was especially so, Craig thought, and his hands twitched for something new to touch.
Craig slid his hands over Jeff’s body, grabbing and pinching and making Jeff crazy. He slipped his fingers underneath Jeff’s balls and pressed into the place between them and his asshole, making Jeff jerk and sway forward into his space. Craig licked his lips as saucily as he knew how, and bent down to take Jeff in his mouth. He slurped and sucked and licked and moaned until Jeff couldn’t stand it a minute longer and then he bit him. He bit him on the crease of his thigh and gripped his own erection which was painfully hard and leaking all over Jeff’s 1000-count sheets.
Jeff flinched and groaned low in his throat. He pushed Craig away by the shoulders, pressing him backwards into the bed. The lube he used to masturbate with was tucked in the bedside drawer, and Jeff leaned over to grab it. Jeff hitched himself up on the bed and uncapped the lube one-handed. Craig’s body went limp at the sound. He grabbed Jeff behind the neck and pulled him down for another kiss, letting his knees fall open to accommodate Jeff.
The slick sound of the lube being rubbed through Jeff’s fingers was barely heard over his harsh breathing. “You alright?” he asked. Craig nodded mindlessly and lifted his knees up to expose himself further to Jeff. “Yes. Please, Jeffery...” He arched his back as he was penetrated, Jeff’s fingers pressing ruthlessly to every sensitive spot inside him. Soon, Craig was shivering out of his skin, begging wordlessly for Jeff’s cock.
Jeff worked a condom onto his dick and eased into him. Like always, Craig was so eager for Jeff’s attention that his body offered little resistance, drawing him in like a vital missing piece. He bent his head to Craig’s chest for just a brief moment before pulling away and thrusting back in. “Oh, fuck... Craig. Fuck...” he cursed. Craig’s hole was tight and hot and so fucking perfect wrapped around his dick, and Jeff was taken off-guard, weak with it. He could hardly keep his elbows locked, his arms were shaking so hard. He rectified this by rolling over onto his back, holding Craig close so the motion carried them both into a new position. Craig sat up on Jeff’s hips and flushed all over.
“I want to watch you,” Jeff said, gripping Craig’s thighs hard enough to bruise. “Ride it, Craig.” He slapped his hands down, the smack jolting Craig into movement. He braced his hands on Jeff’s chest and curled his body over him, tucking and jerking his hips on each inhale, letting only the slightest bit of Jeff’s cock go on each thrust. His legs trembled with effort, but Craig’s stamina was motivated by Jeff’s face clenched in pleasure under him so he rode, greedy and selfish over Jeff’s body until Jeff gathered himself enough to snatch at his waist, flipping him onto his back again, hooking Craig’s knees over his elbows and pressing his hands on the bed next to Craig’s face.
“Spread yourself open for me,” Jeff ordered in a rough voice, close to orgasm and bracing himself above Craig’s body, straining with effort. Craig exhaled and reached down, pulling his cheeks apart and opening himself entirely to Jeff’s cock. Jeff huffed out a breath of pure lust and began fucking his hips in hard, letting each thrust press his cock into Craig’s prostate. Craig hitched in a breath every time Jeff hit home, and while maintaining eye contact was difficult, he tried. Craig wanted Jeff to be reminded of whose tight, eager body he was getting such pleasure from. He wanted Jeff to forget Britta and Annie and every other person he’d shared his body with. He wanted him to be completely overwhelmed by bald, short, weird Craig Pelton.
Jeff’s leg slipped off the side of the bed, and he used the leverage to push off the floor with his foot, adding even more pressure to his strokes and making Craig whine and whimper. Jeff’s eyes clouded as he started to come. He dipped his head into his chest and panted for breath as he pounded into Craig.
“Holy shit, I’m coming,” he gasped, and let go, shuddering and flooding the condom with come. He collapsed onto Craig, heaving with exertion. Craig clutched at his back and held him, praying that when Jeff surfaced he would be kind enough to see Craig through to the other side.
Jeff lifted his head from Craig’s chest and glanced down at his hard, thick cock begging for attention between them.
“Oh,” Jeff murmured, clearly still shaken by his orgasm, “I can get that for you.” And with that, Jeff bent down and took Craig’s cock into his mouth, humming around its length and rubbing his tongue around the head. Craig took two seconds to appreciate the finesse before he came explosively into Jeff’s mouth, crying out and jackknifing his hips off the bed while Jeff swallowed him down. Jeff spit most of the come back onto Craig’s cock, using it as lube as he jerked him a few times, but he swallowed enough that when he pressed his tongue into Craig’s mouth he could taste himself in every nook and cranny of Jeff’s.
Jeff groaned as he pulled away and flopped over on the bed next to Craig. “It’s getting late,” he said, glancing at the clock on the nightstand and dropping the condom into the trash. “Stay here tonight.” He didn’t make eye contact, but instead stared intently at the ceiling. Craig sighed, exhausted and sore, and rolled over to wrap himself around Jeff’s body. They contorted themselves into a comfortable position, one he wished they could stay in until morning.
He wouldn’t usually waste his time on wishes as silly as that, but after everything that had happened that night, smiling at Jeff over breakfast seemed a small step closer to possible.
***
As surprised as Craig was the next morning to wake up to Italian roast and granola, Jeff was more so. He kept wavering between waking Craig up to kick him out and waking him to ask how he took his coffee. When Craig stumbled out of the bedroom in Jeff’s boxer-briefs, his decision was made for him. That ass was as devastating in daylight as it was by night.
Craig smiled hesitantly at Jeff as he took a seat at the kitchen table. He swept some ancient pizza crumbs to the floor as he sat and nervously brushed his hands over his thighs. Jeff, noticing the finger-shaped bruises there and feeling himself harden in his own boxers, slopped coffee over the mug he was pouring into and cursed. Craig huffed out a laugh and leaned forward to take the cup from Jeff’s hand. As their fingers touched over the handle, the phone rang and the moment was broken.
On the phone was Britta letting Jeff know that everything had been taken care of. His erection subsided a bit as she raged at him incoherently. She was stingy on the exact details, but her flood of impassioned babbling conveyed enough of an image for Jeff to know that things were as they should be at Greendale: insane, bizarre, and their own.
“Uh, Craig,” he started, making eye-contact over his coffee cup and hanging up the phone. “It’s finished. The group took care of it.” As Jeff sat down at the table, he could see the tension release itself from Craig’s shoulders.
“Thank you, Jeffrey. You don’t know what this means to me.” Craig dropped his eyes and set his cup down on the table, clasping his fingers together. “So, I guess things are going back to normal?” He didn’t lift his eyes again.
“Yep. Normal.” Jeff nodded. “From what I understand, Britta is on the no-fly list - again - Annie is at the courthouse annulling her marriage to a blind duke or something, Abed has been nominated for a Razzie - he is not handling it well, let me tell you - Troy is a YouTube sensation, Pierce has been blacklisted by every bar in town - sort of surprised he hadn’t been already - and Shirley was featured on ‘Cops’. Chang... well,” he shuddered. “Let’s not go there. Trust me.” He paused, dipping his head down to catch Craig’s eyes. “So anyway, I suppose a torrid affair between the Dean and the sexiest man on campus should be par for the course after all that.”
“A torrid affair?” Craig asked delightedly, his eyebrows shooting up. Jeff cleared his throat and settled back in his chair, his mind slightly uncomfortable with ‘sharing’ but his cock more than ready for round two.
“Yeah. You in?”
Craig laughed and leaned back, spreading his knees wide.
THE END.
Author: Seussian
Pairing: Jeff/Craig
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slight d/s overtones? Nothing major.
Notes: Thanks to my beta EJZ for unsticking my brain. XD Also posted on AO3
Jeff had encountered some bizarre things at Greendale. He had gotten drunk with Abed, performed epic theater with Pierce, and debated football and women with Troy. He’d even shopped for baby sweater vests with Shirley. He’d done a lot of things with the group in his time at Greendale, but he had yet to be truly out of his depth.
Until today.
Today, Craig “the Dean” Pelton showed up at his apartment, holding a backpack and a handful of Twizzlers, crying.
“What the hell?” Jeff blurted.
“Jeff...I....” He seemed to bend under the weight of the backpack slung over his shoulder.
“Dean Pelton? What are you doing here? How did you find out where I live?” Jeff leaned into his doorframe and peered through the gap left by the safety chain.
“Jeff...” he squeezed the Twizzlers tighter in his hand and swayed forward. “Jeffrey, I’ve lost everything. I’ve lost Greendale.” And with those words, the Dean sobbed and his knees buckled.
Jeff didn’t manage to catch him before he hit the ground, but he blamed it on the safety chain and pure bewildered shock.
***
Craig came to on Jeff’s couch. In all the ways he’d imagined blinking awake to Jeff’s face above his, this wasn’t one of them. Craig turned away, curling into the back cushions and covering his face with his elbow.
“Dean? You alright?” Jeff asked, sitting on the coffee table and leaning over Craig.
“...Not really.” Craig took a deep breath and turned back over to look at Jeff. “I lost control of the school to Dean Spreck. He bet me that Greendale had a lower general tolerance for alcohol-induced mania than City College, and I took it. By the way, I’m sorry for yesterday’s ‘Rum-bo Limbo’ cocktail tasting. I meant to add more water to the margaritas, but our water purifiers broke and it was less hazardous to pour straight liquor than add water from the fountains. I got a little carried away with some of the recipes.” Craig coughed. “I’m not sure when Spreck showed up, but he gave me something called a ‘Nuclear Warhead’ and they were just so tasty! They were like lime-flavored candy canes. They had Twizzler straws! How could I resist?” Craig turned to Jeff and begged him wordlessly to forgive him.
Jeff winced. “I’ve had those. They’re vicious.” They were also the cause of the epic hangover Jeff had spent all morning fighting off with cardio and a special guava cleanse that tasted like ass but worked wonders.
“I know!” Craig whined. “I only meant to have one, but I kept winning and he kept betting, and...” Craig stopped. “I don’t know what possessed me. He said Greendale wouldn’t stand a chance in a head-to-head Macaren-off and I said I bet the Dean’s desk and all its power that we would triumph against anyone - even City College - and then, well. You remember.”
Jeff did, sort of. He remembered that hideous song coming over the loudspeaker at the gym and the announcement blaring that a Macarena dance-off was happening between Greendale and the students of City College who had infiltrated their dance. Jeff remembered drunkenly hitting on a potted fern and being carried out by Starburns and Pierce, of all people. They’d argued over the level of alcohol saturation that caused permanent liver damage and its relative harm compared to keeping a meth lab in the trunk of one’s car, at which point Jeff apparently passed out, while Greendale presumably gave a poor showing on the floor at the Macarena.
It wasn’t the group’s fault. Annie, Troy, and Abed weren’t even there. They had claimed to be watching a special edition of the Watchmen DVD and were therefore too busy to come to the Limbo dance. Shirley had been too busy with her kids to stay for more than a half-hour. Britta left in disgust when the DJ continued to play novelty ‘90s dance jams with no sign of stopping. Even she wasn’t that ironically nostalgic.
“Yeah,” Jeff said, “I remember. Sorry. The group wasn’t really on deck for that one.” Craig sighed again.
“It’s fine, it wouldn’t have mattered. Spreck had ringers in the crowd waiting to beat Greendale. I mean, Vicki, Garrett, and Leonard tried, but without your study group, it was hopeless from the beginning.” Craig ducked back into the couch cushions.
Jeff flinched a bit. He may not have been 100% on board with the whole Greendale ‘teamwork’ thing, but he couldn’t deny the clout of the group, and the undeniable fact that with the group’s influence, the Dean probably wouldn’t have lost the school to City College.
He stopped himself abruptly and asked, “Dean, wait. How could you have lost control of Greendale? It was a ridiculous bet! How can that even be binding?”
“Spreck had some papers. His bodyguard gave them to me. I, well. Kind of signed them. Without knowing exactly what they said.” Craig never shifted from the cave the curves of his arms created.
“Dean.” Jeff sighed. He had to think quickly. He knew that City College would take immediate advantage of whatever the Dean had done and if too much time was given to them, Greendale would never be the same. Jeff, disgusted as he was to be in this position, had to do something. “It’ll be okay. I’ll call the study group.”
Jeff lifted pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed the first number to come to mind.
“Britta! Hey, it’s Jeff. Listen, we have a problem. No, this isn’t BCI.”
***
“Abed! Hi, how are you? It’s Britta...oh, right. Caller ID. Um, anyway, Greendale is having a situation, and we need your help. You, Troy, Annie...oh. Um, sure you guys can wear costumes...”
***
“Pierce, it’s Troy! Wazzup!? Ah...um...heh...really? Two of them? Twins? No way, a Moped? How did you get them on at the same time...? That’s disgusting. So, listen, we’ve got a thing happening at Greendale...”
***
“Shirley? It’s Pierce. No, don’t hang up!”
***
“Ben? Am I interrupting something? It’s just, I hear angry voices in the background. Oh, sure, the television. Anyway, it’s Shirley, and I have a favor to ask you...no, it’s definitely NOT babysitting...”
***
Jeff hung up the phone and turned back to Craig.
“I called Britta; she’ll call everyone else. We’ll take care of this Spreck douche. The dance was less than 24 hours ago, so he won’t have had time to do any permanent damage.” He smiled at Craig and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder.
“Really? You think you guys can fix what I’ve done?”
“Sure! The group can do anything, especially when Greendale is on the line. We’ll fight for it, and...stuff.” Jeff stuttered to a stop. Craig had turned over onto his back to look at Jeff and his shirt had ridden up over his stomach, leaving a pale but impressively muscular strip of flesh visible over the waistband of his pants. He was wearing his standard uniform of khakis and a short-sleeve button-down with a striped tie. The shirt had come untucked when the Dean had fainted, giving him a rumpled sort of allure.
“Thank you, Jeffrey,” he said sincerely.
“No problem, Dean. It’s all in a days’ work,” Jeff said. He pressed his hand lightly against the Dean’s shoulder and watched his eyelids flutter.
“You can call me Craig. If you want,” the Dean said, shaky and shy.
Jeff grinned. “Craig, huh? Alright, then. Craig, leave your worries behind. The Study Group will take control of Greendale back from City College and restore it to its rightful place: with Craig.” Jeff seemed to find the Dean’s real name a source of wry amusement, but as long as Jeff was working toward helping him Craig was hard-pressed to complain. He took in a breath and rubbed the side of his hand over his eyebrow, weak with relief and not a little shame.
“Hey, uh,” Jeff said. “I’m sorry Spreck didn’t turn out to be what you wanted. I know you guys kind of had a thing.”
“Oh, it’s okay. He wasn’t, I mean... He wasn’t who I wanted, anyway.” Craig couldn’t believe he’d said it, that he’d alluded so obviously to his infatuation with Jeff, and he covered his eyes with his hand before he could see Jeff recoil.
***
Jeff was taken aback. He knew - hell, everybody knew - that Dean Pelton had a big old-fashioned crush of Jeff, but for him to bring it up here, on the couch, with the Dean’s shirt untucked and his cheeks darkening with humiliation? Jeff didn’t need to see Craig’s eyes to read self-disgust in every line of his body.
“Craig. Come on now, it’s fine.” He seemed unconvinced. “Craig. Stop it. Stop that now,” Jeff said in a firm tone which made Craig swallow in surprise and peek out from underneath his hand. “It’s fine.” And it was fine. Jeff had always enjoyed the Dean’s attention and wildly inappropriate favoritism; he hated to see humiliation where there was usually leering interest. Jeff smiled and squeezed his shoulder. “Go take a shower, get yourself cleaned up. You look like you’ve been sleeping under a table all day.” Jeff smirked a bit at Craig’s startled expression and patted him. “You just take a quick nap here on the couch while we figure things out. Everything is going to be alright.” Jeff didn’t want the Dean to wallow in his own misery, and the only way to get around it was to take control. Besides, Craig was a pretty sweet guy with a remarkably cute butt, and Jeff felt a twinge of something other than pity when Craig’s lips parted in surprise at his command.
Craig nodded, casting his eyes over his grimy clothes in distaste. “I suppose you’re right, Jeffrey.” He pushed up off the couch before Jeff had a chance to stand, putting his crotch briefly at eye level before Jeff bolted off the coffee table and threw an arm out to point down the hallway.
“First door on the left. Um, I’ll bring you some sweats or something.” Jeff gave a tight grin and hurried off to his bedroom. “The code to the safe is my birthday!” He didn’t stop to tell him the date. He had a feeling - rightly so - that Craig knew Jeff’s birthday, and probably had his social security number memorized, too.
***
Craig wandered into the bathroom, flicking on the light and closing the door behind himself without bothering to lock it. It’s not like Jeff would be coming in here, stepping into the shower alongside him and asking for help washing his... Craig shook himself. He opened the tiny closet door and pulled out a towel, setting it on the lid of the toilet, starting the water in the same motion. Not noticing any soap or other toiletries in the shower, it occurred to him what Jeff meant about the safe. He knelt down and sure enough, under the sink was a locked safe which popped open when Craig entered Jeff’s birthday. Craig inhaled deeply the scent of Jeff’s shampoo, and he grabbed the organic soy butter body wash and Swedish mango face scrub to take with him.
Craig stepped into the shower, and began running a Jeff-scented washcloth over his skin.
***
Jeff hunted through his dresser for something that would fit the Dean. Jeff was over six feet tall, but Craig was barely 5’7” and finding something that wouldn’t drown Craig’s ankles in fabric was a challenge. Jeff unearthed a pair of old sweats from a bottom drawer, the kind with the cinched elastic at the ankles. Jeff hated them because they were just short enough to look really weird when he sat down, but on the Dean they should look just like the harem pants he always wore with his Arabian princess costumes.
Jeff spared a moment to be horrified at himself for knowing what harem pants were.
He pulled a shrunken Barenaked Ladies concert tee from his closet, reassuring himself that the Dean hadn’t been privy to that argument, and would therefore find nothing strange about Jeff owning such a thing, and set it with the pants. He debated lending Craig some underwear, but all of his were silk/soy/cotton blends with neon colors and designer labels. An image came to him of Craig swanning into the study room wearing Jeff’s BNL shirt and his underwear and he swallowed thickly in what he refused to believe was arousal.
Craig could just keep the sweats.
Jeff shuffled down the hallway and spent ten minutes trying to decide whether or not to leave the clothes just outside the door, or test the handle to see if it was open. The decision was taken from him when the water cut off and he heard Craig snap out the towel to dry off. He dropped the clothes on the floor and rapped twice on the door.
“Craig? There are clothes out here for you, um. To wear.” He retreated back into the living room before the Dean could come out. He sat on the coffee table again to await the Dean, popped up to grab blankets and a pillow from the entryway closet, and sat down again. He fiddled with the tag on the pillow until Craig came back, looking small and sweet in his too-big sweatpants. Jeff’s eyebrow lifted a little at the biceps peeking out from underneath the sleeves of the t-shirt, but he looked away as Craig sat on the couch.
“Thank you again, Jeffrey.” Craig sat down on the couch and put his hand on Jeff’s knee. “This is really nice of you.”
Craig smelled like his soap, and he was wearing Jeff’s shirt, and all at once Jeff heard Professor Whitman’s voice in the back of his head crying out, “Carpe diem, Mr. Winger!”
“What the hell,” he said to himself, giving Craig the briefest of moments to look confused before leaning over to kiss him.
*****
Craig, for all he had fantasized about making out with Jeff, had never imagined a reality where Jeff would initiate the kiss. He wasn’t prepared for any scenario where Jeff crossed the distance between them, wrapped his hand around his neck and licked into his mouth like he owned it. And yet. And yet that was exactly what was happening, and Craig took all of ten seconds to react, and when he did it was with a squeak, and then a helpless groan. Jeff pressed his thumb up under Craig’s jaw to tilt him to a better angle, and the control of it went straight to his dick.
Jeff pulled back, looked Craig in the eye, and smirked. He tugged the glasses from Craig’s face and set them behind him on the coffee table. For Craig, everything went hazy and dreamlike. He was nearsighted and could see only Jeff clearly. Everything behind him was an inconsequential blur. He blinked, and Jeff’s expression softened. He opened his mouth to say something, and Craig lunged forward to cut him off. He returned Jeff’s earlier favor and slid his tongue into Jeff’s mouth, sucking lewdly on his bottom lip and running his hand up Jeff’s knee to his hip. Jeff jerked forward, startled, and gave a grunt of approval.
The angle was awkward, though, and Jeff’s back started to hurt enough to challenge his cock for attention. Craig whined when he pulled away.
“Come on, wait. Like this,” Jeff said, and slid over to sit on the couch. He reached and pulled Craig up and over to straddle his legs. Craig gripped the back of the couch and ground down on his lap. They both gasped, Jeff’s hands moved to knead and pinch Craig’s cute ass, and Craig panted into Jeff’s mouth declarations of lust and love and adoration. The air between them grew hot, humid with sweat, and Jeff let go of Craig only to yank off his shirt, then his own. Craig’s hands skated over his chest, finding random spots to rub and obsess over while Jeff worried at Craig’s collarbone with his teeth.
Craig’s skin smelled like his body wash and Jeff felt drugged from it. He couldn’t get enough of Craig’s tight little body, its unexpected definition, and smooth, pale planes. He wanted more.
“Mmm, Craig... fuck, wait.” Ignoring him, Craig pinched one of Jeff’s nipples and rode the bucking of his hips. “Jesus! Hunnh....no, seriously, wait a second...Craig. Stop!” Jeff pushed Craig away, focusing intently on his eyes and not his flushed red mouth. “I have a bed. We’re going to get in it.”
****
Craig shuddered and curled his body over Jeff’s chest, resting his forehead against his shoulder. He tried not to come, but the thought of being in Jeff’s bed, of Jeff over him using that tone of voice, telling him to take it like he knew he wanted it... He clenched his teeth and rode out his orgasm, shivering in Jeff’s lap.
A few moments passed and Jeff lifted Craig’s head from his shoulder. The shame and humiliation from before were beginning to creep into Craig’s expression when Jeff smiled broadly at him.
“That was fucking hot,” Jeff said, smile loosening into an easy grin. “Now, get up, go down the hall, and get on the bed. Be naked when I get in there; I have to grab something from the kitchen.” He gave him a little slap on the ass and Craig scrambled to obey, clambering off Jeff’s lap and lurching unsteadily down the hall, knees weak from his orgasm. He felt a little dizzy, and a little stunned, but mostly he felt joyful, heart rattling apart to spill all sorts of wishes and wants at Jeff’s feet, and strangely enough, Jeff seemed to want them. Jeff wanted him there, in his bed, in his arms, and Craig felt like he could take on the whole world if Jeff wanted him to, Dean Spreck included.
He climbed onto what could, if one were being generous, be called a “statement piece” of a bed, but what would more accurately be described as a monstrosity by anyone who wasn’t about to get fucked in it. The bedspread had an elaborate ‘JTW’ embroidered on the center, and its midnight blue and silver motif seeped from the bed into every corner of the room. Craig wiggled out of the sticky sweatpants, throwing them near the door so he could remember to accidentally take them in the morning. He settled on top of the covers and snuggled into a matching set of luxurious feather pillows, inhaling Jeff’s scent and indulging himself in a few sighs of romantic heroine proportion. He sat up again when he heard Jeff coming back down the hall.
****
Jeff had taken the opportunity to stage a small, 45 second freak-out where he questioned every life decision he’d ever made. Sure, he’d always thought the Dean’s butt looked good in a pair of seersucker suit pants and his crush on Jeff was weirdly, flatteringly sweet, but Jeff was into women like Britta, wry and cool, or Annie, who was lush and bright and all too capable of making Jeff a “better person.” Craig was just this crazy, crossdressing administrator with unshakable pride in the world’s most ridiculous school.
Still, even though the study group had rolled their eyes at the Dean’s announcements and raised knowing eyebrows when the Dean “borrowed his costume from his sister” or organized yet another school function with a bad pun on the flyer, the Dean was an essential part of Greendale. He was eager to the point of delusion, and Jeff had always found his enthusiasm sort of charming in the way all of Greendale’s quirks were charming. And, well, if the Dean was charming, then Craig was just fucking adorable. Craig was shameless in his arms, and the noises he made while writhing around on Jeff’s lap were really doing things to his ego, among other things. He especially liked the way Craig’s pupils dilated and his breathing stuttered when Jeff bossed him around a little. He could imagine sneaking into the Dean’s office and being coerced into roleplaying “milkmaid and the stableboy” or “Dean Dangerous vs. alien sex god” all too easily and, instead of being turned off, Jeff found himself mentally reviewing his wardrobe for leather pants and smiling.
All this occurred in the 45 seconds it took him to rise from the couch, adjust himself in his pants, stride into the kitchen, and grab condoms from the cutlery drawer. He kept them there because the women he brought back to his apartment weren’t allowed in his bedroom; they were allowed in any of three pre-designated areas: the bathroom, the living room, and the balcony. This wasn’t any sort of privacy concern, nor did it have anything to do with keeping distance between himself and his one-night-stands. It had more to do with the fact that he kept his bed just so, and Jeff didn’t like people wrinkling his expensive sheets and getting long hairs on all the pillows.
Jeff was prepared to make an exception for Craig for many reasons, not the least of which being Craig’s lack of hair, and the fact that they were going to wrinkle the hell out of those sheets as a team. He smiled down at the condoms clutched in his hand and spun on his heel, walking loudly down the hall so Craig could hear him approach.
****
The door to the bedroom swung open, and Jeff came into view, standing there like so many ravishing scoundrels had in Craig’s fantasies. He was standing hip-shot against the door frame, leaning his shoulder into the wood and smirking, trailing his empty hand over the obvious bulge in his jeans. In his other hand he held...condoms? Craig’s eyes widened and his heart boomed in his chest.
“Jeffery,” he exhaled, looking up to meet Jeff’s playful eyes. Jeff held his stare as he crossed the room. He stopped at the side of the bed, swept his gaze down Craig’s naked body, and laid the condoms on the bedside table. He picked up Craig’s hands from where they laid limp on the covers and placed them on his belt buckle. Craig didn’t need to be told what to do, and he rose up on his knees to face Jeff, flicking the buckle open and drawing the leather from the belt loops and dropping it on the floor. He kept his eyes lowered, demure and a little shy. He slipped the button loose and tugged down the zipper, then hesitantly lifted his head to look at Jeff through his lashes.
“Go ahead, Craig,” Jeff murmured. “Take them off.” Craig’s cheeks darkened, but he slid his hands to Jeff’s hips and shoved the fabric of his jeans down, taking the brightly patterned boxer-briefs with it. He pushed until they fell, then Craig looked at Jeff’s body. He was beautiful. Everything about Jeff was beautiful, but his cock was especially so, Craig thought, and his hands twitched for something new to touch.
Craig slid his hands over Jeff’s body, grabbing and pinching and making Jeff crazy. He slipped his fingers underneath Jeff’s balls and pressed into the place between them and his asshole, making Jeff jerk and sway forward into his space. Craig licked his lips as saucily as he knew how, and bent down to take Jeff in his mouth. He slurped and sucked and licked and moaned until Jeff couldn’t stand it a minute longer and then he bit him. He bit him on the crease of his thigh and gripped his own erection which was painfully hard and leaking all over Jeff’s 1000-count sheets.
Jeff flinched and groaned low in his throat. He pushed Craig away by the shoulders, pressing him backwards into the bed. The lube he used to masturbate with was tucked in the bedside drawer, and Jeff leaned over to grab it. Jeff hitched himself up on the bed and uncapped the lube one-handed. Craig’s body went limp at the sound. He grabbed Jeff behind the neck and pulled him down for another kiss, letting his knees fall open to accommodate Jeff.
The slick sound of the lube being rubbed through Jeff’s fingers was barely heard over his harsh breathing. “You alright?” he asked. Craig nodded mindlessly and lifted his knees up to expose himself further to Jeff. “Yes. Please, Jeffery...” He arched his back as he was penetrated, Jeff’s fingers pressing ruthlessly to every sensitive spot inside him. Soon, Craig was shivering out of his skin, begging wordlessly for Jeff’s cock.
Jeff worked a condom onto his dick and eased into him. Like always, Craig was so eager for Jeff’s attention that his body offered little resistance, drawing him in like a vital missing piece. He bent his head to Craig’s chest for just a brief moment before pulling away and thrusting back in. “Oh, fuck... Craig. Fuck...” he cursed. Craig’s hole was tight and hot and so fucking perfect wrapped around his dick, and Jeff was taken off-guard, weak with it. He could hardly keep his elbows locked, his arms were shaking so hard. He rectified this by rolling over onto his back, holding Craig close so the motion carried them both into a new position. Craig sat up on Jeff’s hips and flushed all over.
“I want to watch you,” Jeff said, gripping Craig’s thighs hard enough to bruise. “Ride it, Craig.” He slapped his hands down, the smack jolting Craig into movement. He braced his hands on Jeff’s chest and curled his body over him, tucking and jerking his hips on each inhale, letting only the slightest bit of Jeff’s cock go on each thrust. His legs trembled with effort, but Craig’s stamina was motivated by Jeff’s face clenched in pleasure under him so he rode, greedy and selfish over Jeff’s body until Jeff gathered himself enough to snatch at his waist, flipping him onto his back again, hooking Craig’s knees over his elbows and pressing his hands on the bed next to Craig’s face.
“Spread yourself open for me,” Jeff ordered in a rough voice, close to orgasm and bracing himself above Craig’s body, straining with effort. Craig exhaled and reached down, pulling his cheeks apart and opening himself entirely to Jeff’s cock. Jeff huffed out a breath of pure lust and began fucking his hips in hard, letting each thrust press his cock into Craig’s prostate. Craig hitched in a breath every time Jeff hit home, and while maintaining eye contact was difficult, he tried. Craig wanted Jeff to be reminded of whose tight, eager body he was getting such pleasure from. He wanted Jeff to forget Britta and Annie and every other person he’d shared his body with. He wanted him to be completely overwhelmed by bald, short, weird Craig Pelton.
Jeff’s leg slipped off the side of the bed, and he used the leverage to push off the floor with his foot, adding even more pressure to his strokes and making Craig whine and whimper. Jeff’s eyes clouded as he started to come. He dipped his head into his chest and panted for breath as he pounded into Craig.
“Holy shit, I’m coming,” he gasped, and let go, shuddering and flooding the condom with come. He collapsed onto Craig, heaving with exertion. Craig clutched at his back and held him, praying that when Jeff surfaced he would be kind enough to see Craig through to the other side.
Jeff lifted his head from Craig’s chest and glanced down at his hard, thick cock begging for attention between them.
“Oh,” Jeff murmured, clearly still shaken by his orgasm, “I can get that for you.” And with that, Jeff bent down and took Craig’s cock into his mouth, humming around its length and rubbing his tongue around the head. Craig took two seconds to appreciate the finesse before he came explosively into Jeff’s mouth, crying out and jackknifing his hips off the bed while Jeff swallowed him down. Jeff spit most of the come back onto Craig’s cock, using it as lube as he jerked him a few times, but he swallowed enough that when he pressed his tongue into Craig’s mouth he could taste himself in every nook and cranny of Jeff’s.
Jeff groaned as he pulled away and flopped over on the bed next to Craig. “It’s getting late,” he said, glancing at the clock on the nightstand and dropping the condom into the trash. “Stay here tonight.” He didn’t make eye contact, but instead stared intently at the ceiling. Craig sighed, exhausted and sore, and rolled over to wrap himself around Jeff’s body. They contorted themselves into a comfortable position, one he wished they could stay in until morning.
He wouldn’t usually waste his time on wishes as silly as that, but after everything that had happened that night, smiling at Jeff over breakfast seemed a small step closer to possible.
***
As surprised as Craig was the next morning to wake up to Italian roast and granola, Jeff was more so. He kept wavering between waking Craig up to kick him out and waking him to ask how he took his coffee. When Craig stumbled out of the bedroom in Jeff’s boxer-briefs, his decision was made for him. That ass was as devastating in daylight as it was by night.
Craig smiled hesitantly at Jeff as he took a seat at the kitchen table. He swept some ancient pizza crumbs to the floor as he sat and nervously brushed his hands over his thighs. Jeff, noticing the finger-shaped bruises there and feeling himself harden in his own boxers, slopped coffee over the mug he was pouring into and cursed. Craig huffed out a laugh and leaned forward to take the cup from Jeff’s hand. As their fingers touched over the handle, the phone rang and the moment was broken.
On the phone was Britta letting Jeff know that everything had been taken care of. His erection subsided a bit as she raged at him incoherently. She was stingy on the exact details, but her flood of impassioned babbling conveyed enough of an image for Jeff to know that things were as they should be at Greendale: insane, bizarre, and their own.
“Uh, Craig,” he started, making eye-contact over his coffee cup and hanging up the phone. “It’s finished. The group took care of it.” As Jeff sat down at the table, he could see the tension release itself from Craig’s shoulders.
“Thank you, Jeffrey. You don’t know what this means to me.” Craig dropped his eyes and set his cup down on the table, clasping his fingers together. “So, I guess things are going back to normal?” He didn’t lift his eyes again.
“Yep. Normal.” Jeff nodded. “From what I understand, Britta is on the no-fly list - again - Annie is at the courthouse annulling her marriage to a blind duke or something, Abed has been nominated for a Razzie - he is not handling it well, let me tell you - Troy is a YouTube sensation, Pierce has been blacklisted by every bar in town - sort of surprised he hadn’t been already - and Shirley was featured on ‘Cops’. Chang... well,” he shuddered. “Let’s not go there. Trust me.” He paused, dipping his head down to catch Craig’s eyes. “So anyway, I suppose a torrid affair between the Dean and the sexiest man on campus should be par for the course after all that.”
“A torrid affair?” Craig asked delightedly, his eyebrows shooting up. Jeff cleared his throat and settled back in his chair, his mind slightly uncomfortable with ‘sharing’ but his cock more than ready for round two.
“Yeah. You in?”
Craig laughed and leaned back, spreading his knees wide.
THE END.