"This is just surreal." Jeff murmured, eyes fixed on the auditorium stage, as the cast of Abed's - already creepy - Study Group movies played out a live version of their sketches. As Abed had explained to them all, in great detail, a few weeks before: it was important to bridge the gap between stage and screen.
That didn't make this any less weird, though, sitting and watching versions of themselves live. Even if they had elected to sit at the back of the theatre, instead of the front row.
"I know what you mean." Annie whispered back from her seat next to him, "I'm just glad they're doing one from last year. No chance of an eerie prediction."
"You can tell when this one's set?" Jeff was surprised, once again, by how much attention Annie payed to the things he just brushed off.
"Of course!" she glanced at him, looking a little put out, and he wondered exactly what heinous thing he'd said this time. "It's the one from around the debate last year. Where Pierce is a genius and Shirley's chased by a werewolf, and…" she trailed off, biting her lip.
"Oh. Right." Did it get warmer? Jeff shifted, awkwardly, "That one." He tried not to remember the other little plot arc from that little movie, and suddenly wished he'd taken Pierce's offer to sit next to him, instead.
Annie, for her part, was no better off. Why had Abed chosen this particular episode of their lives to re-enact? Even if stage-Jeff was no patch on the real thing… point was, it was going to be awkward. She couldn't have sat with Shirley.
"Yeah." She had to say something. She shifted in her seat, pulling her skirt down a little self-consciously, wishing she had worn her black tights today instead of going bare-legged. She felt eyes on her, and glanced up to see Jeff watching her hand move on her thigh, the look in his eyes something darker than she'd seen there in a while. Since the events now reoccurring on stage, in fact.
Jeff couldn't help himself, couldn't tear his eyes away from that expanse of creamy leg, not at all hidden by her short black skirt. Was it his imagination, or were those skirts getting shorter since last year? Oh, crap, she'd caught him looking, her Disney Princess doe-eyes were widening. He thought about getting up to go to the bathroom, then subtly coming back and sitting one seat down, in Abed's reserved place.
Then she licked her lips.
He was back in that gym, feeling the sudden, unexpected pressure of her lips on his, soft and wet and willing. Of course he'd dropped that City College guy, how could he not? His body had been all too ready to grab her around the waist, hoist her onto the table and have his way with her right then and there.
Jeff felt his lips curve up a little into his trademark smirk, and was gratified to see her pupils dilate. Little Annie Edison was thinking along the same lines he was, he was certain of it.
Annie had seen that smirk before, and thought she knew what it meant. Her blood all rushed at once to do a happy, warming little dance at her pelvis, and she shivered as the smirk widened.
She tried to bite back a little squeak of surprise as his hand replaced hers on her leg, radiating warmth deep down into her skin, warming the blood rushing faster and faster in her veins.
"Do you remember that day?" He muttered, and she could have sworn his hand moved a fraction of an inch higher, brushing her hemline.
"The debate?" she kept her voice steady, and was proud of herself for it.
"Mm hmmm," Jeff nodded, and this time his fingers definitely shifted higher, under her skirt, to trace little questing patterns on the inside of her thigh. She tried not to squirm, but she couldn't help the little tremor of desire that rushed through her.
"Wh-" she swallowed, "What about it?"
His eyes returned to the stage, the picture of cool concentration, but his fingers had moved higher, until they brushed on her underwear, finding the little wet patch already growing there. She could see his profile grin, a wide, smug grin, knowing what reaction he'd caused.
"You decided that, to win, you had to kiss me." He leaned back further in his seat, his fingers now brushing up and down her pussy through the soaked fabric of her knickers. Her eyes fluttered closed, the blood pumping in her ears hot and fast.
"What're you doing?" she murmured, pleased she could get any words out at all.
"Finishing what you started, a year ago." he finally looked back at her, eyebrow raised, "Want me to stop?"
"No…" she gasped as his fingers found her clit and started to rub, "Really, really no." Her head lolled back, her legs spread a little wider, "God…" his fingertips spiraled around her aching pussy, applying some more pressure, and she felt the tension coil tighter and tighter inside her, until she thought she'd explode if he didn't get inside her soon.
He looked back at the performance, as pretend-Shirley was chased through a library by real-Troy in a werewolf mask.
"What do you want?" his fingers had stopped for the moment, and refused to continue their ministrations.
Bastard! Annie cursed in her mind, incapable of actual speech. She tried to formulate a coherent sentence.
Jeff, aware of the flushed state of the girl next to him, just grinned some more. He didn't know why this seemed so appropriate to do right now, here, in the back of the auditorium. Maybe it was the miniskirt, or the fact she'd worn her hair down today, or the aftermath of the pen incident the week before.
Maybe he was just a dirty old man. He pushed that thought down with a filthy smirk, not too old yet.
"Touch me…" he heard her whisper finally, and the grin widened. He turned to her fully, glad it was so dark in the theatre, and pulled his coat so it covered most of her and his left arm. He looked deep into her eyes, forcing her to maintain eye contact, as his fingers slipped from the centre of her drenched underwear and around, under, to explore the aching flesh beneath.
"Ah!" she moaned, and he clamped his hand hand over her mouth, glancing hastily around. No one had looked in their direction. Dark it may be, but they still couldn't get away with any noise.
"Keep quiet." he growled into her ear, and felt her shudder all over. He slipped two fingers inside of her, and twisted them slowly around, feeling how wet she was for him, how hot and tight she was. He had to clamp down on a groan, as he imagined being completely sheathed in that warm wetness.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh GOD! A stream of expletives and nonsense ran through Annie's brain, as he started to pump his fingers in and out of her, added a third, went faster and faster, until she felt the tension boil and twist in her belly, so close to coming that her eyes closed of their own accord.
He slowed down, three fingers thrusting slowly in and out of her dripping pussy, until she opened her eyes to look deeply into his.
She caught a glance at the stage, the people in the rows in front of them. Jeff Winger was fingering her, in public, two seats down from the rest of the study group, as their actor-doubles kissed on stage.
It was wrong, and sudden, and unplanned, and so deliciously naughty.
Then he moved his thumb upwards, to rub firmly against her clit, and Annie came undone. She writhed and shook, riding his hand through her blinding orgasm, until, sweating and breathing heavily, she relaxed, boneless, into her chair.
He cautiously removed his hands from between her legs and her mouth, and, with her eyes still on him, sucked his left hand fingers clean, filthy, self-satisfied smirk never leaving his face.
Annie thought she might come again, just from that sight.
"What brought that on?" she asked, once she'd caught her breath.
He shrugged, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "Just wanted to show you what you could have won if you hadn't stopped kissing me."