Troy saw them together, once. He was bound to find out sooner or later, and he did—one March afternoon when a cancelled class put him back at apartment 303 a full two hours earlier than usual.
They must not have heard the latch of the door or the creak of its hinge, must not have heard him announce his entry. Humming quietly to himself, Troy had even had time to stride to the blanket fort and kick off his Nikes before he noticed the strange quiet. Then, soft sounds—a gasp, and the shuffle of linens.
The curtained entryway to the blanket fort swished near silently behind him as Troy rounded the corner, his head craning around as he sensed movement somewhere in the small apartment. Closing in on its source, he looked slowly up to catch sight of Annie's bedroom door, left cracked open and acting as the narrow frame to a scene which halted his very thought process.
Her eyes were screwed shut, fingers gathered in a head of fluffy black hair that buried itself between her spread legs and nodded slowly in ministration. The soft light of the desk lamp illuminated beads of sweat between her breasts, spilling light upon the muscles of Abed's back as the boy's hooked nose pressed itself into her bald pubic bone.
She was panting, her bosom rising and cheeks pink as Abed's forearms gently coiled themselves around her thighs to draw her closer to his mouth. Soft, feminine coos filled the apartment as her hips squirmed, expressing a desperate satisfaction.
"Ahhbedd," she said, and his moony black eyes flicked up to where she lay biting her lip at the headboard, as though waiting for instructions-but none came.
His name was a cry of pleasure amongst wordless mewls of encouragement as he brought her off with tortuous contact-an adept tongue that made her arch her back and ball her fists up amongst the sheets. Abed let his eyes fall gently shut again at the sound of her, seeming concentrated as his hands gathered her pale legs over his shoulders.
The fingers she laced through his hair rambled downward to trace his temple, and with it the furrow on his brow seemed to lift. She spoke his name again, meaning to convey something, and her free hand hurried to seek his where he softly held her hip. Fumbling sweetly, their fingers slipped together, and as she writhed, Troy realized he was witnessing.
Snap—what the hell was happening? How long had he been standing there?
His socks were mercifully quiet against the floorboards as Troy stumbled backwards in the midst of a brain wrinkle. Leave the apartment, something told him through his stupor.
Abed was crawling now, up to the end of the bed where she lay, dropping to his elbows over Annie as she curled her arms gently around his neck. Something asked under his breath, something giggled in response, and a kiss—they were quiet in their intimacy. The last thing Troy saw before grabbing his shoes and making a hasty retreat was the delicate shape of Annie's legs as they bent at the knee around a pair of male hips.
Outside the apartment and finally processing information, Troy's first cogent thought bubbled up from his subconscious-
I knew it.