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New fic up at A03: 'Three Sex Dreams Cory Matthews Never Had, Really', part 2
Okay, so even as he’s been irrational, he knows he’s being irrational.
Irrationally, this just makes him madder. Just thinking about the tape, the VCR tape itself, never mind what’s on it, makes him feel hot and itchy, like he’s trapped in a wool sweater.
He tests himself every few minutes, like testing a bruise to see if it’s fading.
511 times he’s failed the test, noticing fresh details every time. (Who wrote this dialogue?! Topanga’s wearing the bracelet he bought her for her birthday, the hussy. Oh, perfect, Shawn’s wearing the blue top that brings out his eyes perfectly. Is the whole world conspiring on this?!)
He can literally feel the heat between them, the temperature in the dorm has risen at least ten degrees since the rewatches hit triple figures. Or maybe the VCR is giving out, its whir becoming a prolonged whine the last hundred or so views.
Either way, Cory peels off his sweater vest.
Normally he's shy, even in his room, the co-ed bathrooms are pressure enough, but Shawn and Topanga have been suspiciously absent since The Incident, and the rarity of free time without either of them reminds him he currently has more free time than he knows what to do with.
Isaac makes him promise not to torture himself further and although Fred clearly did a number on him, he seems like a pretty smart guy. It’s good to talk to someone who hasn't known Shawn and Topanga for years.
Cory doesn't want to bug Angela with this until they've agreed to explore these new feelings. He's torn between the fear that they'll instantly agree, unable to resist, or worse, a pity pretence.
Thinking of Angela firms his conviction that there’s more to this than a movie. Cory has never really noticed attractive women in the same way as Shawn, but even with Topanga blinders, he can tell Angela’s objectively gorgeous.
Shawn can't possibly expect to find a prettier girl or one better suited to him. Since they split, Cory's been feeling like he's missing something. Shawn said he wanted to see other people, but all he's been doing is hanging out with Gambling Dan and those other jerks.
Angela’s hinted something about needing to find himself, which as far as Cory can tell, means reverting to high school.
He still doesn't get it, but now he's starting to wonder, his stomach suddenly hollow. Shawn's always said Topanga is the best a guy can get. What if all this is because he misses the tricycle days before Angela, when Topanga was the only girl he hung out with over two weeks?
Shawn's said he can't be Cory, but that was before he proved himself wrong and held down a relationship. What if this sudden need for freedom is prompted by feelings a little closer to home?
Shawn's always been good at faking it, but kissing Topanga and feeling nothing is a mathematical impossibility.
This could be survived - it'd be painful but Cory learnt a long time ago that life with Shawn often is, and even longer ago that it doesn't matter. The things he'd go through for Shawn don't have an imaginable limit.
The wild card here is Topanga. Topanga who's just as good at pretending, out of kindness rather than self-preservation, but the end result’s the same.
He's never truly doubted her and Shawn together, out of trust but also because of her increasing lack of patience as he tries to juggle her needs with Shawn's. It used to be easy, or at least, she used to indulge them longer, but since their falling out over college, Topanga's been swifter at shutting down their mushier moments, not aww’ing like she used to.
Maybe the problem here isn't three becoming a crowd. Maybe the problem is Topanga's found someone she's a little surer of.
Cory thought he was the more passionate of them after the prom night fiasco put the kibosh on what he hoped would be the next inevitable step. But the boundaries keep shifting, and the hippy girl who pushed him against a locker for his first kiss seems more and more fixated on a traditional wedding and all that implies as the date approaches.
Cory thought it came from her need to be perfect, or maybe the recent renewed contact with her folks, but he can't help but wonder if Topanga's having doubts.
He's seen girls go gaga over Shawn for a lot less than a kiss - just watching the tape works him up, and he's not even on it, he reflects ruefully. It’s probably just the heat in here. And the adrenaline.
He's self-conscious now he knows Isaac’s within ear shot, and he definitely can't handle the co-ed bathrooms right now. What he really needs is space, and maybe to watch the tape again, see if there's anything he missed.
In this state, he needs to avoid Shawn. It's pretty crappy, but he decides thinking this out will benefit them all, and calls the locksmith.
*
Okay, so he might have slightly overreacted to the underpants thing. He knew Shawn would find somewhere for the night, but he'd guessed Jack and Eric’s, so seeing him crashed out on the union couch gave him a tiny pang of guilt.
He squashed it down quickly. The most important thing here was to get across how normal and healthy his reactions are. But seeing Shawn lying around in his boxers set him off again.
It's the middle of the union, anyone can see him. Shawn's never been the modest type but Cory thought it went without saying that at least he and Angela were the only people on campus who'd seen him half naked.
Here he is, casually chatting - or PLOTTING?! - with Topanga, like it's no big deal. Cory only learnt how to go with other guys around last year, he still can't cope with public showers, and here's Shawn flaunting himself like Mr Trailer Trash ‘98.
Maybe this is why he and Topanga haven't had sex - she's found a guy without these weird hang-ups.
*
The restaurant costs the equivalent of a month's meal vouchers, so one way or another their feelings better get resolved. Angela's talked him down a little, describing the awful evening they're sure to be having.
He knows Shawn and Topanga can happily kill minimal amounts of time from personal experience, but a small mean part of him hopes it’s awkward, even bitter like the arguments that sometimes flare up between them.
He knows he’s being an insensitive jerk, but he continues to quiz Angela, and can't help but blurt as the thought occurs: ‘When you and Shawn were together, did he ever call out the name Topanga?’
‘No but he called out the name Cory.’
Angela avoids his gaze for a split-second before smirking slightly.
Cory's so busy scrutinizing her lovely face for deception, he doesn't hear her answer for a second.
His ears are suddenly buzzing and he folds his arms to cover it up, stammering out the first thing he can think of, smiling awkwardly - she's kidding, right? Does it look weirder if he plays along with the joke or gets pissed? He's already paused a beat too long so he figures what the hell and presses her one more time, stuttering slightly.
‘In, in what context?’
Angela's defiance quickly fades though, and she deflects him.
*
That night, Shawn already yipping. Cory feels that pang again; he's probably pretty tired after spending last night in the union.
Cory won't be too long awake himself, today's left him pretty wiped. In the last hour, he's been kissed by his best friend's girl, tricked into believing his fiancée, best friend and, inexplicably, a cow, were messing around behind his back; and nearly broke a dorm bed with a four way hug.
The latter, while cute, put him on edge a little - cuddling up to Angela had already left him affected - he may not be in love with her, but he's not made of stone. Shawn and Topanga, kicking, squirming and rolling around in an effort to fit on a bed barely generous enough for one didn't aid matters.
The next thing he knows, he's outside the door again.
He feels a fuzzy confusion 'didn't this already happen?' as he dimly hears a metallic sounding ‘Oh, Shawn!’
Deja vu hits him but good.
Clearly this is another one of his repetitive dreams like the clown, and while he mourns his own lack of imagination - oh very creative, Cory, a repeat of this evening - he'd rather go over this again then deal with Jinxy and his knife for the n’th time.
Earlier he'd stormed off, afraid of what was going on behind the door, but certain of his friends now, he twists the knob.
‘Okay, you guys officially have way too many toys,’ Topanga announces.
Cory half collapses in relief to see her and Shawn, sitting sedately on the bed, clothes on and both feet on the floor.
Well, Shawn's - Topanga's twisted onto her knees to examine their shelves.
‘I get the ray gun thing, it’s cute, but I bought this one for Josh!' She shakes the box which emits a loud moo.
Shawn smirks and catches Cory's eye. ‘Busted.’
The double meaning so blatant even Cory, by his own admission not the subtlest of men, gets.
‘You guys were playing me?’
‘Guess we are good actors. Although I think I got competition as a writer. Topanga's script was pretty hot.’
Cory paws at the proffered papers, and both Topanga and Shawn crack up as he flips to the back page first.
'Cory Matthews you are a dirty boy,' Shawn coos. ‘There’s no nude scene, I think your head would have exploded if the dorm went co-ed.’
‘Besides, I have to hold something back for our wedding night, right? Topanga purrs.
They both laugh in unison again as Cory's expression must reflect his warring impulses. Protest inappropriate best friend fiancée interaction versus encourage any hopes of pre-marital hijinks!
‘I told you Topanga, this guy has a nasty side - he thought a cow was involved for Pete’s sake!’
Cory's eyes are nearly popping by now and his complexion is looking dangerously purple, so Topanga and Shawn, after exchanging glances, decide he's suffered enough.
‘It was a bit, Cor. We got pizza, wrote the script, and headed back here.’
Topanga confirms this with a nod. ‘I couldn't face another fancy restaurant after our anniversary. We blew off your reservation and went to Pirate Pete’s. It wasn't exactly romantic cuisine.’
‘Well maybe not to you - ’ Cory automatically defends his favourite restaurant before focusing. ‘…But the tape! And...underpants!'
Topanga moves behind him to rub his shoulders before he can get into this groove again.
‘You can't not feel something! I watched that tape 512 times. There were practically sparks coming off the screen!’
By now he's panting a little.
Shawn and Topanga make eye contact once more.
‘Uh...Cor?’ Shawn pauses, searching for the right words, hands raised defensively.
‘Did watching the tape…do anything for you? I mean, aside from turning you into the hulk anytime my underwear comes up?’
Cory can't see Topanga's expression but her slow movements don't stop or even pause. This clearly isn't a line of question coming as a shock for Ms Pre Law.
Shawn moves closer, so he and Cory are sitting knee to knee. ‘You didn't…I don’t know, feel something?’
Cory's never been able to tell apart Topanga and Shawn from touch.
Topanga's hands are sure and strong, Shawn's surprisingly gentle and deft. As Topanga rubs rhythmic circles on his shoulder blades and Shawn leans forward and softly tracks the seam of Cory's jeans upwards, Cory feels almost dizzy, like once again he's mixed them up.
Topanga kisses his neck as Shawn's hand grasps the hard on he's had for pretty much 36 hours straight.
Cory cringes, embarrassed as well as overly sensitive after his over indulgence in this very dorm.
Shawn's hand stills. ‘Look, Cory. The kiss, it didn’t do much for me.’
Topanga pulls a mock scowl.
Shawn affectionately pulls a curl of her hair. ‘…My beautiful co-star aside.’
Topanga smirks as if mollified.
‘I can't be you. I never could. Me and Angela took a break so I could figure out what I do want.’
Shawn pauses, a little nervously, but before he can continue, Topanga leans toward him, kissing him slowly but sweetly, between his mouth and cheek.
‘Hey. Don't overload him. The mind can only process so much.’
This is pretty much true. Cory's communication has devolved into soft murmurs of rapture at this point, jealousy forgotten, sandwiched between his two favourite people.
Shawn looks mutinous for a second but defers to Topanga, pressing his lips together as if sealing his tongue, while he unzips Cory's fly, encouraged by his moans.
‘You know...’ Topanga trails in a lighter tone. ‘The girls’ dorms have way better toys than this.’ She leans over to rifle through her bag.
Cory and Shawn catch each other's eyes. Shawn grins affectionately as Cory's thoughts once again light his face.
Cory mutters an ‘Oh. …Oh!’
He looks up at Shawn who waggles his eyebrows and nods in confirmation.
‘How can you not love this woman?’ Cory hums, words seeming slightly incongruous, not to mention slurred, as his tongue explores Shawn's mouth.
Shawn’s eyes half lid, unwilling to shut them fully in case it all disappears. As far as he’s concerned, bringing this about pretty much qualifies Topanga as the best person he knows.
Okay, so even as he’s been irrational, he knows he’s being irrational.
Irrationally, this just makes him madder. Just thinking about the tape, the VCR tape itself, never mind what’s on it, makes him feel hot and itchy, like he’s trapped in a wool sweater.
He tests himself every few minutes, like testing a bruise to see if it’s fading.
511 times he’s failed the test, noticing fresh details every time. (Who wrote this dialogue?! Topanga’s wearing the bracelet he bought her for her birthday, the hussy. Oh, perfect, Shawn’s wearing the blue top that brings out his eyes perfectly. Is the whole world conspiring on this?!)
He can literally feel the heat between them, the temperature in the dorm has risen at least ten degrees since the rewatches hit triple figures. Or maybe the VCR is giving out, its whir becoming a prolonged whine the last hundred or so views.
Either way, Cory peels off his sweater vest.
Normally he's shy, even in his room, the co-ed bathrooms are pressure enough, but Shawn and Topanga have been suspiciously absent since The Incident, and the rarity of free time without either of them reminds him he currently has more free time than he knows what to do with.
Isaac makes him promise not to torture himself further and although Fred clearly did a number on him, he seems like a pretty smart guy. It’s good to talk to someone who hasn't known Shawn and Topanga for years.
Cory doesn't want to bug Angela with this until they've agreed to explore these new feelings. He's torn between the fear that they'll instantly agree, unable to resist, or worse, a pity pretence.
Thinking of Angela firms his conviction that there’s more to this than a movie. Cory has never really noticed attractive women in the same way as Shawn, but even with Topanga blinders, he can tell Angela’s objectively gorgeous.
Shawn can't possibly expect to find a prettier girl or one better suited to him. Since they split, Cory's been feeling like he's missing something. Shawn said he wanted to see other people, but all he's been doing is hanging out with Gambling Dan and those other jerks.
Angela’s hinted something about needing to find himself, which as far as Cory can tell, means reverting to high school.
He still doesn't get it, but now he's starting to wonder, his stomach suddenly hollow. Shawn's always said Topanga is the best a guy can get. What if all this is because he misses the tricycle days before Angela, when Topanga was the only girl he hung out with over two weeks?
Shawn's said he can't be Cory, but that was before he proved himself wrong and held down a relationship. What if this sudden need for freedom is prompted by feelings a little closer to home?
Shawn's always been good at faking it, but kissing Topanga and feeling nothing is a mathematical impossibility.
This could be survived - it'd be painful but Cory learnt a long time ago that life with Shawn often is, and even longer ago that it doesn't matter. The things he'd go through for Shawn don't have an imaginable limit.
The wild card here is Topanga. Topanga who's just as good at pretending, out of kindness rather than self-preservation, but the end result’s the same.
He's never truly doubted her and Shawn together, out of trust but also because of her increasing lack of patience as he tries to juggle her needs with Shawn's. It used to be easy, or at least, she used to indulge them longer, but since their falling out over college, Topanga's been swifter at shutting down their mushier moments, not aww’ing like she used to.
Maybe the problem here isn't three becoming a crowd. Maybe the problem is Topanga's found someone she's a little surer of.
Cory thought he was the more passionate of them after the prom night fiasco put the kibosh on what he hoped would be the next inevitable step. But the boundaries keep shifting, and the hippy girl who pushed him against a locker for his first kiss seems more and more fixated on a traditional wedding and all that implies as the date approaches.
Cory thought it came from her need to be perfect, or maybe the recent renewed contact with her folks, but he can't help but wonder if Topanga's having doubts.
He's seen girls go gaga over Shawn for a lot less than a kiss - just watching the tape works him up, and he's not even on it, he reflects ruefully. It’s probably just the heat in here. And the adrenaline.
He's self-conscious now he knows Isaac’s within ear shot, and he definitely can't handle the co-ed bathrooms right now. What he really needs is space, and maybe to watch the tape again, see if there's anything he missed.
In this state, he needs to avoid Shawn. It's pretty crappy, but he decides thinking this out will benefit them all, and calls the locksmith.
*
Okay, so he might have slightly overreacted to the underpants thing. He knew Shawn would find somewhere for the night, but he'd guessed Jack and Eric’s, so seeing him crashed out on the union couch gave him a tiny pang of guilt.
He squashed it down quickly. The most important thing here was to get across how normal and healthy his reactions are. But seeing Shawn lying around in his boxers set him off again.
It's the middle of the union, anyone can see him. Shawn's never been the modest type but Cory thought it went without saying that at least he and Angela were the only people on campus who'd seen him half naked.
Here he is, casually chatting - or PLOTTING?! - with Topanga, like it's no big deal. Cory only learnt how to go with other guys around last year, he still can't cope with public showers, and here's Shawn flaunting himself like Mr Trailer Trash ‘98.
Maybe this is why he and Topanga haven't had sex - she's found a guy without these weird hang-ups.
*
The restaurant costs the equivalent of a month's meal vouchers, so one way or another their feelings better get resolved. Angela's talked him down a little, describing the awful evening they're sure to be having.
He knows Shawn and Topanga can happily kill minimal amounts of time from personal experience, but a small mean part of him hopes it’s awkward, even bitter like the arguments that sometimes flare up between them.
He knows he’s being an insensitive jerk, but he continues to quiz Angela, and can't help but blurt as the thought occurs: ‘When you and Shawn were together, did he ever call out the name Topanga?’
‘No but he called out the name Cory.’
Angela avoids his gaze for a split-second before smirking slightly.
Cory's so busy scrutinizing her lovely face for deception, he doesn't hear her answer for a second.
His ears are suddenly buzzing and he folds his arms to cover it up, stammering out the first thing he can think of, smiling awkwardly - she's kidding, right? Does it look weirder if he plays along with the joke or gets pissed? He's already paused a beat too long so he figures what the hell and presses her one more time, stuttering slightly.
‘In, in what context?’
Angela's defiance quickly fades though, and she deflects him.
*
That night, Shawn already yipping. Cory feels that pang again; he's probably pretty tired after spending last night in the union.
Cory won't be too long awake himself, today's left him pretty wiped. In the last hour, he's been kissed by his best friend's girl, tricked into believing his fiancée, best friend and, inexplicably, a cow, were messing around behind his back; and nearly broke a dorm bed with a four way hug.
The latter, while cute, put him on edge a little - cuddling up to Angela had already left him affected - he may not be in love with her, but he's not made of stone. Shawn and Topanga, kicking, squirming and rolling around in an effort to fit on a bed barely generous enough for one didn't aid matters.
The next thing he knows, he's outside the door again.
He feels a fuzzy confusion 'didn't this already happen?' as he dimly hears a metallic sounding ‘Oh, Shawn!’
Deja vu hits him but good.
Clearly this is another one of his repetitive dreams like the clown, and while he mourns his own lack of imagination - oh very creative, Cory, a repeat of this evening - he'd rather go over this again then deal with Jinxy and his knife for the n’th time.
Earlier he'd stormed off, afraid of what was going on behind the door, but certain of his friends now, he twists the knob.
‘Okay, you guys officially have way too many toys,’ Topanga announces.
Cory half collapses in relief to see her and Shawn, sitting sedately on the bed, clothes on and both feet on the floor.
Well, Shawn's - Topanga's twisted onto her knees to examine their shelves.
‘I get the ray gun thing, it’s cute, but I bought this one for Josh!' She shakes the box which emits a loud moo.
Shawn smirks and catches Cory's eye. ‘Busted.’
The double meaning so blatant even Cory, by his own admission not the subtlest of men, gets.
‘You guys were playing me?’
‘Guess we are good actors. Although I think I got competition as a writer. Topanga's script was pretty hot.’
Cory paws at the proffered papers, and both Topanga and Shawn crack up as he flips to the back page first.
'Cory Matthews you are a dirty boy,' Shawn coos. ‘There’s no nude scene, I think your head would have exploded if the dorm went co-ed.’
‘Besides, I have to hold something back for our wedding night, right? Topanga purrs.
They both laugh in unison again as Cory's expression must reflect his warring impulses. Protest inappropriate best friend fiancée interaction versus encourage any hopes of pre-marital hijinks!
‘I told you Topanga, this guy has a nasty side - he thought a cow was involved for Pete’s sake!’
Cory's eyes are nearly popping by now and his complexion is looking dangerously purple, so Topanga and Shawn, after exchanging glances, decide he's suffered enough.
‘It was a bit, Cor. We got pizza, wrote the script, and headed back here.’
Topanga confirms this with a nod. ‘I couldn't face another fancy restaurant after our anniversary. We blew off your reservation and went to Pirate Pete’s. It wasn't exactly romantic cuisine.’
‘Well maybe not to you - ’ Cory automatically defends his favourite restaurant before focusing. ‘…But the tape! And...underpants!'
Topanga moves behind him to rub his shoulders before he can get into this groove again.
‘You can't not feel something! I watched that tape 512 times. There were practically sparks coming off the screen!’
By now he's panting a little.
Shawn and Topanga make eye contact once more.
‘Uh...Cor?’ Shawn pauses, searching for the right words, hands raised defensively.
‘Did watching the tape…do anything for you? I mean, aside from turning you into the hulk anytime my underwear comes up?’
Cory can't see Topanga's expression but her slow movements don't stop or even pause. This clearly isn't a line of question coming as a shock for Ms Pre Law.
Shawn moves closer, so he and Cory are sitting knee to knee. ‘You didn't…I don’t know, feel something?’
Cory's never been able to tell apart Topanga and Shawn from touch.
Topanga's hands are sure and strong, Shawn's surprisingly gentle and deft. As Topanga rubs rhythmic circles on his shoulder blades and Shawn leans forward and softly tracks the seam of Cory's jeans upwards, Cory feels almost dizzy, like once again he's mixed them up.
Topanga kisses his neck as Shawn's hand grasps the hard on he's had for pretty much 36 hours straight.
Cory cringes, embarrassed as well as overly sensitive after his over indulgence in this very dorm.
Shawn's hand stills. ‘Look, Cory. The kiss, it didn’t do much for me.’
Topanga pulls a mock scowl.
Shawn affectionately pulls a curl of her hair. ‘…My beautiful co-star aside.’
Topanga smirks as if mollified.
‘I can't be you. I never could. Me and Angela took a break so I could figure out what I do want.’
Shawn pauses, a little nervously, but before he can continue, Topanga leans toward him, kissing him slowly but sweetly, between his mouth and cheek.
‘Hey. Don't overload him. The mind can only process so much.’
This is pretty much true. Cory's communication has devolved into soft murmurs of rapture at this point, jealousy forgotten, sandwiched between his two favourite people.
Shawn looks mutinous for a second but defers to Topanga, pressing his lips together as if sealing his tongue, while he unzips Cory's fly, encouraged by his moans.
‘You know...’ Topanga trails in a lighter tone. ‘The girls’ dorms have way better toys than this.’ She leans over to rifle through her bag.
Cory and Shawn catch each other's eyes. Shawn grins affectionately as Cory's thoughts once again light his face.
Cory mutters an ‘Oh. …Oh!’
He looks up at Shawn who waggles his eyebrows and nods in confirmation.
‘How can you not love this woman?’ Cory hums, words seeming slightly incongruous, not to mention slurred, as his tongue explores Shawn's mouth.
Shawn’s eyes half lid, unwilling to shut them fully in case it all disappears. As far as he’s concerned, bringing this about pretty much qualifies Topanga as the best person he knows.