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“Let’s do something fun, I’m boooored!” Britta nearly screamed with a slurred voice, grabbing the corpse of a beer bottle to the side.
“I think you’ve had enough of this,” Jeff sighed, grabbing the bottle. “And weed.”
“It’s empty, morron! Now who’s the one seeing blurry, huh?”
She took the bottle off of Jeff’s hand, who shook his head in disbelief, and clumsily got up from the cushions randomly arranged over the green marble-imitating linoleum of the floor. It was ten, probably ten thirty, and the last rays of warm, deep orange sunlight managed to sneak between the laths of the wooden blinds, and made the floating dust grains almost look like fireflies. Britta was far from being the only one to see things a little too bright, or moving.
They all have been drinking for the past three hours; mostly beer, and some fancy whiskey that Jeff brought, thinking Pierce would be there to share it with him instead of disappearing at the last minute to do some gambling with his third ex-wife. Britta’s Ipod was stuck on loop over the same Placebo album, uno cards were scattered all over the fake-fur rug that Troy and Abed had thrifted a few days after moving in, and Annie was chatting cheerfully with the two of them while Shirley ran again to check her fourth batch of blueberry cookies.
The usual Study Group home gathering before summer break.
“I know! How about we play ‘spin the bottle’?”
“Seriously, how old are you guys?” Jeff scoffed.
“Very tropey, I’m in,” Abed simply said, sitting straighter over his own blanket, and Troy nodded in agreement on his side.
“Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve played,” he grinned.
“Yes! I’ve… It’s been a while too, yeah,” Annie awkwardly giggled, pink rising to her already flushed cheeks. “Are you guys in?” she asked, turning around towards the last two remaining members of the group.
“I’m not participating in your—” she made a quick, spinning motion with her gloveless hand “sinful activities with a bunch of horny toads! Plus, I need to watch my cookies!”
Everyone else exchanged a look full of doubts about the quality of said cookies, but Shirley ignored her friends and went back to the oven, humming happily.
“Anyway,” Britta half yelled over the music — despite it being quite low — “I spin first, because I was the one to come up with the idea.”
Troy was starting to look a little agitated, shifting his weight from one thigh to the other, and Annie clapped her hands with excitement as the empty deep green bottle started to spin in a hypnotic motion, tingling over the hard floor.
And then it started to slow down. The main moment of anticipation.
“Annie! You get to kiss Britta!” Troy giggled, earning Shirley mumbling something about the Bible not condoning this kind of relationship.
“I can’t say I’m not a little excited. This would be my first kiss with… a woman.”
Annie said the last word lower, and was blushing a lot, yet a wide smile stretched her round face.
“Don’t tell me you never tried.”
“I thought you weren’t interested in these chile—ish… childish games, Jeff,” Britta yelled at him, standing next to the kitchen counter.
“I’m not. Just stating the truth.”
“Well, I’m sorry Annie but…” Britta muttered, then leaned in, “this won’t be your first real woman kiss. I’m an old lady.”
She placed a small yet loud peck over one of Annie’s pink cheeks, whose face beamed with a wide, bright smile
“Wow. You managed to Britta the rules of the game you made everyone play,” Jeff laughed sarcastically.
“Well at least I don’t have a problem with age gaps! ‘seriously, how old are you?’” she mocked with a poor imitation of his voice.
This was immediately followed by a heavy silence, except for the quiet, low humming of the oven and the standing fan in a corner of the living room room.
“You meant that you weren’t problematic about age gaps, right?” Abed quickly corrected.
“That’s what I said, why are you repeating what I just said?”
Chuckles rose up, interrupted by the sudden ring of Shirley’s cooking timer.
“Guys, it’s Annie’s turn to spin,” Troy said, and handed the empty glass bottle to his friend.
Annie gracefully extended her arm and thanked Troy with a cheerful smile, still giggling from her previous almost homosexual first kiss on the mouth, and placed the object on the tiled floor.
“If present me told high school me that I would one day play ‘spin the bottle’ in the same circle as Troy Barned I think she probably would’ve fainted! Alright, three, two…”
At ‘one’, she flexed her wrist and sent the bottle into a spinning loop, startling Troy who was rubbing the back of his neck at the compliment.
“Abed!” Britta exclaimed.
Abed’s eyebrows rose up suddenly while Troy’s face fell flat, yet no one witnessed it, as Abed’s performance rapted everyone else’s attention.
The latter got on his knees, standing straighter than a few seconds before, and leaned towards Annie, whose eyelids blinked incredibly faster.
“So… It seems that the odds are on our side, Young Lady,” Abed murmured with a low voice, close to the tone he used to perform his Don Draper impression on their first year.
He crawled closer, until Annie’s chin was no longer out of reach for Abed’s thumb and index to gently grab it, forcing her head to tilt slightly upwards. Blood rushed into Annie’s cheeks almost instantly, as she unconsciously slid a hand up to her friend’s shoulder, brushing the light fabric of his short-sleeved flannel.
“Or perhaps it is Destiny, the laws of nature and chaos theory that chose you…” he whispered smoothly as his face leaned closer to hers, “and you know that science never lies.”
He closed his mouth against Annie’s, who let out a small gasp, followed by her excited giggling as she hurried to reciprocate the kiss. When they parted, her cheeks were still flushed and she sheepishly hid her lips behind her hand.
“Well, your acting skills are still… correct,” she teased, a little chuckle passing through her voice.
“Thanks, you’re very good at kissing too.”
“Lord forgive me for hanging out with this group of teenagers who can’t contain their urges,” Shirley muttered, walking out of the kitchen unit with a fuming plate in her hands. “Anywho, who wants to taste my cookies? they had time to cool off a little, and they smell lovely!”
“Ugh, please! I’m sooooo hungry,” Britta groaned.
“Oh that’s nice! I do hope it’s not because of… questionable substances you’re under, but thanks to the smell of my baking!”
Shirley crouched in the middle of the small circle of people Abed, Annie, Troy and Britta formed on the floor, skillfully avoiding stepping over the empty bottle or Abed’s Gundam action figures. Everyone took a bunch of the small, steamy pastries. Everyone except Troy.
“Troy, you don’t want any?”*
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry,” he muttered, not loud enough for the others to hear him.
“Oh, honey, is there anything wrong?”
“Nah, it’s cool” Troy chuckled, voice somehow trembling despite the joyful tone he tried to give to his words, “totally cool. Awesome. I like this game.”
“You know sweetie, if you feel uncomfortable, you can still follow me into the kitchen, I’m going to make some frosting.”
Troy looked like he was considering the option, despite how weird eating frosting with blueberry cookies sounded., yet any reply he was about to phrase died inside of his throat when Britta yelled:
“Abed, your turn!”
So Troy settled back onto the cushions, eyes not daring to look at anyone, not even his best friend sitting right next to him, casting him a concerned look.
Jeff had left his spot next to the high stools before the counter and was standing a few feet from them now, somehow intrigued, and even Shirley sped down her whipping of the cream to listen closer. Special K was playing, dizzyling drums being spat from the speakers and filling up the air, warm and heavy, that the old fan had trouble making feel somewhat fresher.
The round echo of the glass stopped, followed by a series of gasps and laughs and oh's and various cheer sounds.
Troy looked at the tip of his socks. The bottle landed on him.
His breath intensified as the understanding of the situation seemed to slowly settle in his mind, and the skin of his forehead folded tightly with the sudden rise of his eyebrows and his eyes, wide open. He produced no sound.
“Troy, are you okay?” Annie asked.
“Ohh, Troy is feeling nervous!” Britta sang, quickly interrupted by jeff handing her a glass full of water.
Abed’s knee nudged Troys, who straightened all of a sudden, startled.
“You don’t have to do this if you don't want to,” Abed whispered, subtly moving a little closer, “we could still do like Britta and Annie…”
“Yeah, um… It’s the rule, still,” Troy said, attempting at a quiet laugh, voice hoarse.
Abed’s fingers, resting on his blanket for approximately half of the evening, brushed up Troy's leg, right over the fabric of his jeans, and found their way to his best friend’s clenched hands, caressing the flexed knuckles. Troy untensed a little.
His eyes looked up, and were met by Abed’s expecting brown irises, flickering with a mysterious intensity. His face was close. Closer than less than a second ago, so close that they both had a hard time distinguishing the other’s breath from the warm breeze of their shared apartment.
Abed’s other hand moved up and brushed the under of Troy’s soft jaws, and finished its way to the side of his face, cheeks and ears burning with anticipation. Troy blinked a few times, mouth opened slightly, and Abed slowly placed his lips on his.
They were gone almost as quickly as they came; like the brushing of a feather, a simple caress landing like a silent question. Abed’s eyes stayed open, studying Troy’s reactions when he leaned in again. A little more insistent. A simple touch turned into a kiss.
Troy’s breathing stuttered, so Abed paused, asking something against his lips. To which, a beat later, Troy simply nodded, and his trembling hands went to settle onto the cotton of Abed’s shirt, kissing him again. And again.
Troy’s eyes shut close, and with a shaking inhale, he eventually pressed himself closer into his best friend’s arms, chest next to his heart, moving his mouth against his with a little more confidence, and Abed’s fingers grabbed the side of his face with a little more purposefully, prying his mouth open with his tongue as Troy gripped his bony shoulders with enthusiasm and slipped a leg over his lap, clumsy yet determined.
“Aww…” Annie sighed, “aren’t they beautiful?”
“Yes, they are! Gay people are amazing, I had a gay roommate back in New York” Britta grinned, opening a new bottle of beer with her lighter.
Shirley sighed a little too loud, earning a side look from Jeff, to which she handed a twenty-dollar bill.
“About time,” Jeff murmured with a proud smirk.