Disclaimer: I don't own Community.
Boopy Doopy Doop, Sex (or, How Jeff Drank the Kool Aid)
The term, "I have the weirdest boner," circled in Jeff's head over and over as he watched Annie prance around in an undeniably sexy outfit while singing the most undeniably un-sexy song about a holiday she didn't even celebrate. The Glee Club had corrupted her—she was supposed to be the smart one! But here she was with her boobs hanging out, flipping up her skirt and talking like a three year old (okay, the boobs and the skirt weren't so bad), all so she could convince Jeff to drink the Kool Aid and join some God awful pageant.
And yet, in spite of the logical part of his brain that told him this was a ruse, he couldn't stop watching.
The song itself hadn't started out so bad. A little high-pitched, sure, but Annie in a slutty Santa outfit was worth watching regardless. But then she was on her hands and knees and her diction was failing her and she sounded like she had marbles –or something—in her mouth, and he couldn't quite decide if she was still sexy or just plain creepy.
And then she grabbed his hair, which sent tingles from his follicles to his... anyway... it wasn't entirely unpleasant.
But then she asked him what 'diminishing returns' were (sort of) and he was back to being totally confused.
"Annie..." his hair was still bunched in her hand, and her piercing blue eyes still watched him with totally insincere innocence.
"Jeffwey." Her voice maintained the pitch of Betty Boop on helium. He reached up and gently pulled her hand out of his hair, then grabbed the other and clasped them both between his.
"Annie, the Glee club is evil. You've been brainwashed. This isn't you." He watched her expression change from innocent to distant, and she pulled her hands out of his, stepping back and unstraddling his leg.
"Which part?" she asked.
"All of it. The voice, the stupidity, the..."
"The sex?" she finished. Jeff clamped his mouth tightly. "That's what you were going to say, isn't it? I can't be sexy, because I'm a kid, right?" She watched him for a moment and let out a long, defeated breath before turning on her heel and heading back behind the changing screen. Jeff sat for a moment, considering his options, before getting up from his chair and following her. He found her sitting on the ground, still dressed like Santa's slutty stand-in, but with a dejected look on her face. He felt like an asshole.
"Annie."
"It doesn't matter, Jeff. Just leave me alone, okay?" Jeff shook his head and plopped down next to her. He tried to take her hand, but she pulled it away just as fast.
"Annie, look at yourself." She kept her eyes downcast. "I'm serious—look at yourself. You don't need me to tell you that you're sexy, it's an indisputable fact." She looked up at him sceptically.
"You're just saying that because you feel like a jerk." Jeff rolled his eyes and looked around, noticing a mirror in the corner. Quickly, he pulled himself up and reached out for Annie's hand.
"Come here." She kept her hands in her lap. He reached down and grabbed one, pulling her up insistently. "Come over here." He led her toward the mirror. She looked on, noting more than anything the way he made her look so small in their reflection. She almost couldn't help but sink back into him when he rested his hands on her shoulders.
"You don't need me to tell you you're sexy," he repeated, appraising her in the mirror. He couldn't suppress the tiniest smirk when a flush began to appear on her chest.
"You didn't seem to notice," she said softly. Again, he felt like an asshole.
"What am I supposed to do? You're my friend. I'm trying to keep it that way."
"So what? We can't be friends and be attracted to each other?"
"That never works out, Annie." Jeff watched her reflection become more agitated before she spun around angrily to face him.
"What about with you and Britta? You can screw her and still be friends."
"Do you really want to talk about Britta right now?"
"No, Jeff, I want to talk about us. I want to know why you can sleep with everyone else but me. I want to know why you don't want me when I throw myself at you!"
"Because you're not Britta!" Jeff cursed himself silently as soon as the words left his mouth. Annie, taken aback, stepped backward away from him. "I didn't mean it like that."
"Then what did you mean?"
"I just mean you're not like her. You can't separate the romantic stuff from the other stuff. Britta's easy. I don't have to watch Glee with her, or buy her ice cream, or pretend to like Twilight, or tell her she looks sexy when she's wearing a freaking slutty Santa outfit. I don't have to commit to her, and I don't want to—but you..." Jeff let his rant trail away.
"But I, what?" she prompted. Jeff took a steadying breath and forced himself to make eye contact. In spite of his first inclination, which was to make something up and run far, far away, he wanted to do this. His year had been terrible, and it wasn't too hard to pinpoint why.
"You look sexy in your slutty Santa outfit." Her stony veneer cracked, ever so slightly.
"Is that all?"
"And I can't just have sex with you," he finished. She frowned.
"What?"
"You're not like anyone else, Annie. If we were to do that, it would have to be more. There's no other option with you. That's it."
"So that's it? You won't sleep with me if we aren't together, and you refuse to be together."
"I didn't say that," responded quickly.
"Then what are you trying to say?" she asked, exasperated. He stood back for a moment, feeling the full weight of her gaze on him and considered his options. He could run away like usual, which seemed smart, or he could just give up on his pretence of not wanting her and finally make a move.
Without another word, he surged forward, claiming her mouth in a hard, insistent kiss. He felt her tense beneath him before slowly reciprocating.
Dammit, Jeff realized as Annie's body melted into his. This is all because of the freaking Glee Club.
End
A/N: Comments are a lovely Christmas gift.
