[Community] Principles of Relativity and Exotic Matters
Resolution said write more, not write better. Baby steps!
Title: Principles of Relativity and Exotic Matters
Series: Community
Spoilers/warnings: Spoilers up to episode 2x10, “Mixology Certification.” Slashy undertones if you like to read that into Troy and Abed's interaction.
Wordcount: 1,248
Summary: Troy and Abed talk on the way home after the bar.
Troy was suddenly tired once he finished dropping Annie off at her apartment. He wondered if the twinge in the place between his eyeballs and brain was another rite of passage, like those hangovers that always made Britta and Jeff act like zombies who wore fashionable sunglasses and asked about the purple banana in Spanish. Except this headache didn’t come with any of the cool things they mentioned in their stories. It didn’t even come with weird Spanish phrases like donde está el tequila?. Besides, Troy found out that he really didn’t want to imitate any zombie behavior, even if it was a cool and mature kind of zombie.
The headache remained a dull throb all the way toward Abed’s dorms. Troy didn’t bother looking to Abed for confirmation before sliding out of the driver’s seat to walk him to his apartment. Jeff and Britta were still passed out in the backseat and Troy wanted to clear his head, or at least smell something that wasn’t this weird vodka-on-upholstery-with-something-else-kind-of-musky smell that had permeated Jeff’s Lexus.
“Sorry if your birthday wasn’t as symbolic as it could be,” Abed said out of nowhere. “I was going to call you over to play Asteroids so you could get the 10,000 point mark and save the galaxy, but something happened.”
“What was going on with you anyway?” Troy asked, realizing that the fruity alcohol smell was actually coming from Abed’s shirt, which was weird because he usually drank beer and he was way better at not spilling things than Troy was if their donut eating contests were any indication.
“A guy was watching me play the game and made a reference to The Last Starfighter. Then, after we started talking, he asked me to have gay sex with him, but I told him I wanted to keep talking about wormhole theories from Farscape instead. He also said Stargate was better than Farscape, but I don’t know if he was saying that because he wanted to argue with me or if he really believed it, and I couldn’t ask because he was walking away at that point.”
“But Farscape has muppets!” Troy protested. Then, as the rest of what Abed said caught up with him, his eyes went wide. “Woah, he was trying to pick you up? Is that why you smell funny?”
“He threw a drink in my face.”
“And not in the way we throw peanuts at each other’s faces?”
“No,” Abed supplied. “For one thing, it was a liquid. And alcohol can burn like the pepper water Pierce shot at us. Especially if there’s a lemon twist in it.” Luckily, there wasn’t.
Troy’s brows furrowed. He was glad whatever that guy tried to do to talk with Abed wasn’t anything like the stuff they did together, but he was mostly angry that somebody would throw a drink in his friend’s face. It was really mean, and kind of wasteful if it was a good drink. Not that he would know, still being sober on his twenty-first birthday.
“That jerk! So he took you away from your video game and he threw a drink on you? I didn’t notice, we were trying to find Shirley and...” Troy said with a shake of his head. “Sorry, man, I should have been there to punch him out for your honor or something.”
Abed tilted his head in consideration. Maybe he was recalling a particular scene from a movie that somehow related to their conversation. Or he was recalling Britta’s comments on how fighting was releasing pent up homosexual urges and simply decided not to mention it.
“It’s okay, you were busy taking care of the others.”
Troy scoffed derisively. “Shirley’s mad at me, Jeff and Britta are too drunk to remember anything tonight, I guess Annie’s okay. Unless she was still pretending to be somebody else when she said that...”
“We’re okay,” Abed said, jingling his keys like a chime for a commercial break. “You brought me home.”
Troy nodded, but he still felt as if he should say, or something more he should do. The kid he used to be, who still wore his letter jacket everywhere and initially thought Abed was weird, he would have just taken that response as a job well done. But Troy, the Troy of now who was legally an adult, thought maybe the important part about being a man was doing more than just the minimum requirement.
“Hey, that guy was wrong,” Troy said. “Not just about Stargate being better. And, I mean, the part where he was hitting on you-I’m not talking about that. Because we are bros and you’ll have to ask Annie or Britta if you want to know, because that’s something girls talk about...”
He was rambling. He was rambling a lot because Abed had turned to face him, giving Troy his full attention. Abed usually only had to give 60% of his attention to the dialogue and the other parts were usually mental notes of how he would alternate from camera shots if he was directing the scene.
Troy cleared his throat. “That guy was a jerk for talking to you about The Last Starfighter and other geek stuff just so he could try and get in your pants. That’s something guys only need to do because women won’t talk to them about sports and comic books all the time. Unless it’s like Shirley’s interested, and then it’s kind of like talking to your mom. But you’re not my mom,
and you’re really cool to hang out with, so...I guess what I’m saying is I would rather talk with you about Farscape than have gay sex-n-not that I would have any kind of sex with you,” he stammered.
“I understand. You were saying you would prefer doing something with me because we would both want to, and you enjoy my company for what it is, instead of doing it as a means to an end.”
“That’s…right, what you said,” Troy said, trying to make sure what Abed said didn’t sound like something gay and/or sexy.
“And that’s why we’re friends,” Abed stated, although there was a small quirk in his voice that seemed unsure. Sometimes it was hard to tell because Abed was so deadpan and so, well, Abed.
“Yeah,” said Troy, slapping his chest and bumping Abed’s hand with his own before pulling him into a hug. “Best friends.”
Abed returned the hug. After a moment, he rested his chin on Troy’s shoulder. He was very comfortable to rest on, almost as good as his dorm couch. “…it’s been long enough to seem awkward, hasn’t it?”
Troy pulled back, because he didn’t know but asking definitely made it awkward. “Nah, I was just wondering if Jeff and Britta are still asleep or if they’re waiting for me.”
“If they’re awake, they’re probably making out again.”
“Yeah, they’re-aw man, I can’t look in the rear view and watch that. It’s like why I can’t listen to the radio when I’m driving if they play Styx and I get distracted and teary eyed. Only it’s a different kind of embarrassed.”
“Don’t worry. I think we’ve already filled the quota of emotional sharing for your birthday special. That, and Britta was still unconscious when I rolled her off my shoulder.”
“Okay, good,” Troy muttered, then turned to Abed and smiled. “Hey, we’re still on for the t-shirt thing on Monday right?”
Abed returned the smile. “I’ll bring the box of XXX-Large.”
Title: Principles of Relativity and Exotic Matters
Series: Community
Spoilers/warnings: Spoilers up to episode 2x10, “Mixology Certification.” Slashy undertones if you like to read that into Troy and Abed's interaction.
Wordcount: 1,248
Summary: Troy and Abed talk on the way home after the bar.
Troy was suddenly tired once he finished dropping Annie off at her apartment. He wondered if the twinge in the place between his eyeballs and brain was another rite of passage, like those hangovers that always made Britta and Jeff act like zombies who wore fashionable sunglasses and asked about the purple banana in Spanish. Except this headache didn’t come with any of the cool things they mentioned in their stories. It didn’t even come with weird Spanish phrases like donde está el tequila?. Besides, Troy found out that he really didn’t want to imitate any zombie behavior, even if it was a cool and mature kind of zombie.
The headache remained a dull throb all the way toward Abed’s dorms. Troy didn’t bother looking to Abed for confirmation before sliding out of the driver’s seat to walk him to his apartment. Jeff and Britta were still passed out in the backseat and Troy wanted to clear his head, or at least smell something that wasn’t this weird vodka-on-upholstery-with-something-else-kind-of-musky smell that had permeated Jeff’s Lexus.
“Sorry if your birthday wasn’t as symbolic as it could be,” Abed said out of nowhere. “I was going to call you over to play Asteroids so you could get the 10,000 point mark and save the galaxy, but something happened.”
“What was going on with you anyway?” Troy asked, realizing that the fruity alcohol smell was actually coming from Abed’s shirt, which was weird because he usually drank beer and he was way better at not spilling things than Troy was if their donut eating contests were any indication.
“A guy was watching me play the game and made a reference to The Last Starfighter. Then, after we started talking, he asked me to have gay sex with him, but I told him I wanted to keep talking about wormhole theories from Farscape instead. He also said Stargate was better than Farscape, but I don’t know if he was saying that because he wanted to argue with me or if he really believed it, and I couldn’t ask because he was walking away at that point.”
“But Farscape has muppets!” Troy protested. Then, as the rest of what Abed said caught up with him, his eyes went wide. “Woah, he was trying to pick you up? Is that why you smell funny?”
“He threw a drink in my face.”
“And not in the way we throw peanuts at each other’s faces?”
“No,” Abed supplied. “For one thing, it was a liquid. And alcohol can burn like the pepper water Pierce shot at us. Especially if there’s a lemon twist in it.” Luckily, there wasn’t.
Troy’s brows furrowed. He was glad whatever that guy tried to do to talk with Abed wasn’t anything like the stuff they did together, but he was mostly angry that somebody would throw a drink in his friend’s face. It was really mean, and kind of wasteful if it was a good drink. Not that he would know, still being sober on his twenty-first birthday.
“That jerk! So he took you away from your video game and he threw a drink on you? I didn’t notice, we were trying to find Shirley and...” Troy said with a shake of his head. “Sorry, man, I should have been there to punch him out for your honor or something.”
Abed tilted his head in consideration. Maybe he was recalling a particular scene from a movie that somehow related to their conversation. Or he was recalling Britta’s comments on how fighting was releasing pent up homosexual urges and simply decided not to mention it.
“It’s okay, you were busy taking care of the others.”
Troy scoffed derisively. “Shirley’s mad at me, Jeff and Britta are too drunk to remember anything tonight, I guess Annie’s okay. Unless she was still pretending to be somebody else when she said that...”
“We’re okay,” Abed said, jingling his keys like a chime for a commercial break. “You brought me home.”
Troy nodded, but he still felt as if he should say, or something more he should do. The kid he used to be, who still wore his letter jacket everywhere and initially thought Abed was weird, he would have just taken that response as a job well done. But Troy, the Troy of now who was legally an adult, thought maybe the important part about being a man was doing more than just the minimum requirement.
“Hey, that guy was wrong,” Troy said. “Not just about Stargate being better. And, I mean, the part where he was hitting on you-I’m not talking about that. Because we are bros and you’ll have to ask Annie or Britta if you want to know, because that’s something girls talk about...”
He was rambling. He was rambling a lot because Abed had turned to face him, giving Troy his full attention. Abed usually only had to give 60% of his attention to the dialogue and the other parts were usually mental notes of how he would alternate from camera shots if he was directing the scene.
Troy cleared his throat. “That guy was a jerk for talking to you about The Last Starfighter and other geek stuff just so he could try and get in your pants. That’s something guys only need to do because women won’t talk to them about sports and comic books all the time. Unless it’s like Shirley’s interested, and then it’s kind of like talking to your mom. But you’re not my mom,
and you’re really cool to hang out with, so...I guess what I’m saying is I would rather talk with you about Farscape than have gay sex-n-not that I would have any kind of sex with you,” he stammered.
“I understand. You were saying you would prefer doing something with me because we would both want to, and you enjoy my company for what it is, instead of doing it as a means to an end.”
“That’s…right, what you said,” Troy said, trying to make sure what Abed said didn’t sound like something gay and/or sexy.
“And that’s why we’re friends,” Abed stated, although there was a small quirk in his voice that seemed unsure. Sometimes it was hard to tell because Abed was so deadpan and so, well, Abed.
“Yeah,” said Troy, slapping his chest and bumping Abed’s hand with his own before pulling him into a hug. “Best friends.”
Abed returned the hug. After a moment, he rested his chin on Troy’s shoulder. He was very comfortable to rest on, almost as good as his dorm couch. “…it’s been long enough to seem awkward, hasn’t it?”
Troy pulled back, because he didn’t know but asking definitely made it awkward. “Nah, I was just wondering if Jeff and Britta are still asleep or if they’re waiting for me.”
“If they’re awake, they’re probably making out again.”
“Yeah, they’re-aw man, I can’t look in the rear view and watch that. It’s like why I can’t listen to the radio when I’m driving if they play Styx and I get distracted and teary eyed. Only it’s a different kind of embarrassed.”
“Don’t worry. I think we’ve already filled the quota of emotional sharing for your birthday special. That, and Britta was still unconscious when I rolled her off my shoulder.”
“Okay, good,” Troy muttered, then turned to Abed and smiled. “Hey, we’re still on for the t-shirt thing on Monday right?”
Abed returned the smile. “I’ll bring the box of XXX-Large.”