I hope everyone has read the gorgeous, absolutely smashing story that brandytook wrote for me for Yuletide: Stealing Bones (The Fall: Roy & Alexandria). I cannot recommend it highly enough.
Here's my original Yuletide story, for doyle_sb4. She'd requested Community fic, specifically Troy/Abed slash, but I just couldn't bring myself to write those two wonderful, childlike boys having sexy times (sorry!). So I tried to go for romantic gen, like the kind I write in Sherlock (given that I read John as straight and Sherlock as asexual), but I don't think I was very successful. Heaps of praise are due to my beta octette, who valiantly tried to get me to write a better story; this is the best I could do. Troy doesn’t get lonely in long showers anymore.
[Podfic here by the awesome unavoidedcrisis!!!]
One of the best things about living at Pierce's sweet pad was that Pierce didn't actually ask him to do very much. Most of the time, they didn't even cross paths – the place was big enough for that – and it was only when they randomly bumped into each other in some hallway of the mansion that they both seemed to remember that he only had a roof over his head because Pierce needed someone to take care of some pretty minor tasks. Like bending the straws in Pierce's endless glasses of iced tea to the correct angle, or making sure that the anatomically-correct ice cube trays were always full. Though now that he thought about it, maybe those were summertime things, and Pierce would move on to pumpkin-carving or turkey-wrangling as the weather got colder.
Still, Pierce wouldn't give him anything to do unless he saw him, so Troy went off to bask in the glory of his private bathroom. Even without the possibility of boobies that the dorm bathrooms promised, it totally left them in the dust. He thought maybe this was the bathroom that Pierce's wives had used, because it was pink like a whole parade's worth of puppies' tongues, and there was some kind of fancy writing on the faucets. It was all swirly, and it looked the way Abed sounded when he talked to his dad in their secret language. It wasn’t nearly as cool as his own secret language with Abed though; Abed and his dad didn’t do any sweet robot noises or have anything like a private handshake that could be used to say “hello” or “see you later” or “man, I missed you.”
Abed hadn’t even known how to do a regular high-five when they first started putting together their secret code, like no one had ever bothered to listen to any of his cool ideas and say they sounded awesome. That was totally weird, right, because nobody had plans like Abed. And nobody looked all lit up from hearing Troy’s plans like Abed either.
He pulled off his clothes, yellow socks and red-and-yellow striped underwear thrown on top of his blue shirt and jeans; there was something fun about wearing bright colors where no one else could see them, like a superhero outfit that would only be revealed once danger loomed. He remembered the vivid strip of green he'd seen just above the waistband of Abed's blue jeans the other day, proof that they were living the dream and that they were ready for the day supervillains threatened Greendale.
Thinking about what they’d do if that fateful day ever came, though, was like playing that chicken-corn-fox game that they’d played on the third day of Anthropology. Who would they rescue first? They both said Shirley when they discussed it over root beer floats after class, because she could at least get a new civilization started if the rest of them were wiped out – she'd make sure everyone who was left had some job to do and a friendly person to turn to when the work was done. And if she got lonely, she could always talk to Jesus.
But that meant leaving Jeff with Britta and Annie, with Pierce ready and waiting to say exactly the wrong thing, and that was like leaving the fox with the chicken, or a couple of foxes with a couple of chickens, or maybe a fox and a wolf and a rhinoceros and a bunny. Troy still hadn't worked that part out; all he knew was that it was a bad idea, and what he really, secretly wanted anyway was to send Abed off with Shirley, just to know that Abed was safe and would be around to keep coming up with awesome ideas. And also so that the survivors they rescued would have entertainment like Kickpuncher and Kickpuncher: Detroit to listen to as they sat around a fire and ate Shirley's brownies. Even if he had to make the ultimate sacrifice somewhere along the way, that image alone made it worth it.
It was too cold in the bathroom to stand around naked without any self-warming superpower, so he turned the hot water on and hopped in when the steam started rising. There was water coming at him from every angle, and if he only could get a sandwich and some Special Drink by pushing a button on the wall, or if only monkey butlers were real - the training with Annie’s Boobs had not gone well - then he’d happily stay in here for days.
There was a whole big shelf full of shampoos and conditioners and body washes that he was still working his way through. That one in the tall aqua-colored can looked interesting; Skintimate it said, and Troy thought that sounded pretty dirty in a way he didn't want to consider Pierce being, not when this shower was big enough for a whole dorm hall, let alone Pierce and all of his wives.
He popped the top and took a big whiff. That was a mistake, he thought as he doubled over, water from some of the sideways shower heads getting in his ears and up his nose as he sneezed repeatedly. He'd forgotten Pierce's lessons, and the sound of his sneezes as they echoed off the tiles was alarmingly girly, like he was already playing Michelle, Kickpuncher's endangered fiancée in the unauthorized underwater sequel he and Abed were planning. He grinned and let the water pour down his face at the thought; he’d pretty much always wanted to ride a dolphin to safety. He practiced the chirping and cheeping noises he’d memorized from a couple of episodes of Flipper he and Abed had watched while scarfing down Lucky Charms. Yeah, that sounded right. He bet Flipper would give him a high-five. Or maybe he and Abed could teach him their special one as a way to kick off the filming of Splashkicker at the Greendale pool.
He picked up the Skintimate can and put it back on the shelf, knocking over another jar that fell right into his hands. He started to rub the goop inside into his face, then stopped when he felt the stinging. Man, girls had to be fierce to use this stuff; it felt like his skin was being torn off by sandpaper. But it smelled too good to stop, and anyway Michelle had to be tough to tame a man like Kickpuncher, so he tried again, more gently this time, and got a whiff of vanilla and coconut that made him smell like he’d spent all day at a beach. A sexy beach where he’d drink something out of a hollowed-out coconut and Abed would twirl the little umbrella that came with it and they’d watch the sun go down. It would be just warm enough that the water would feel like a bath, and they’d run into it after tossing a frisbee or a football around, sand getting between their bare toes.
He didn’t know if Abed could swim. And he knew Abed knew nothing about football except for what he’d figured out from Necessary Roughness and Friday Night Lights. Troy raised his face to the spray once more, smiling as all the sugar scrub was washed away, and shared his special high-five with the tiled wall. Tomorrow, he’d teach Abed how to throw a spiral and tell him about his new ideas for Splashkicker or maybe even for Splashkicker 2: Mermaid’s Revenge.
As always, I'd love to hear what you think.