Work Text:
Jeff is still sprawled out on the floor from where he was counting paintball pellets earlier, with his gun lying beside him. If he's honest, things are looking bleak- he only has about five shots left, and he can't stay hauled up in the study room forever.
Before he can even think about making a move, a hand wraps around his ankle. "Your unattended legs have been taken hostage," a familiar voice says.
He jumps. "Abed! How did you get in here?!"
"You're not asking the right question, Jeffrey." Abed says, as he lies across his legs, effectively pinning him.
"Alright," Jeff swallows, as he looks down at him. "What are your demands?"
"Hmm." Abed sits upright, straddling Jeff now. "I think you know."
Jeff smiles. "I think I do." He cups Abed's face gently, and pulls him into a long, slow kiss. Abed returns it with force, wrapping his arms around Jeff's neck.
Jeff laughs- a deep rumble in the back of his throat- and opens his mouth wider, as his tongue explores Abed's mouth.
"Seriously, though-" he could kiss Abed forever- "how'd you get in here? I thought I had every entry covered."
He smiles. "I used the vents. It was pretty much the only way to avoid crawling through all that pink paint that got spilled in the corridor."
Jeff makes a noise. "Oh, that." He nuzzles Abed's neck. "What is it, some sort of booby trap, or what?"
"Yeah. I think The Cupid Being got caught in it," he gasps.
"Oh. That explains all the feathers," Jeff mutters, as he skims his teeth across his Adam's apple.
Abed huffs out a breath and undoes the button on his jeans, as Jeff makes a muffled sound.
"Abed, what are you doing?"
"Don't worry," Abed says, as he slides a knee between his thighs. "I'm pretty sure this episode of paintball won't be televised; it's not cinematic enough."
"Uh-huh," Jeff says, as he kisses Abed more urgently. "And you're telling me that-" Abed's tongue chases his "- The image of you, crawling on your belly through a red-streaked battlefield, as paint rages around you- isn't cinematic enough?" He gasps, between kisses.
Abed runs a hand through his hair, which only makes it look more windswept. "I suppose it could be used in a flashback sequence."
Jeff laughs.
There's the distant sound of paint hitting walls, and people yelling. Abed pulls away, eyes bright with alarm. "Change of plan," he says. "The library is under siege." He reaches for his gun. "It's-"
"- Not our problem," Jeff murmurs, as he pulls him closer.
"Jeff-"
"- mm?" He squeezes his hips, and Abed makes a low sound, torn between this, and running.
They kiss for a further minute, until the sound of paint fire gets louder.
Abed pulls away, and grips his bicep. "Jeff. They're after you."
"Huh?" Jeff says, intelligently. Kissing Abed has gone straight to his brain- and other places- and he'd rather not run away right now. Even crawling away seems like a torturous option. "Oh, who cares, right? Let's just get caught."
"No."
"But- it's offscreen! We don't even have to win this year!"
Abed considers this for one microsecond, before shaking his head . "Backstory, Jeff. We can't get caught with our pants down. What if Leonard alludes to it in a zinger?"
"If we can't get caught with our pants down, then why are you-?"
"I need your clothes," he says, as he undoes another button on Jeff's shirt. "And your hat."
Dazed, Jeff raises his hands, and Abed pulls it over his head urgently. There's a small part of Jeff still hopeful that Abed will just surrender so they can continue this somewhere more comfortable, but he knows that glint in his eyes.
Now disguised as Jeff, Abed smiles, and pulls the brim of his hat down to disguise his face.
*
Twenty minutes later, Abed almost gets gunned down in an ambush, but, for some reason, The Dean jumps into the crossfire, and uses himself as a human shield. After the chaos, as his attackers retreat, paintball-less, Abed holds him in his arms, as The Dean gasps and splutters like a dying person.
"Dean?" He asks. "Why did you save me?"
"I know how much you like paintball," he says.
"No, that's not it…" Abed shifts his weight, so he's looking down at him. "You thought I was Jeff, didn't you?"
The dean wets his lips. "I'll admit, I should have realised sooner- Jeffrey's body is very distinctive- but you do bear a striking resemblance to him in the hat. Have you gotten taller?" He asks, with that vocal inflection he uses when Jeff wears a tight shirt.
Abed sets him down on the floor. "Um. I was trying new shoes," he says, as he glances at the high-heeled cowboy boots. "But they're not really working for me."
"Are you sure?" The Dean purrs, and reaches towards him. "They work for me."
Uh-oh.
"Ummm," Abed stalls, as he backs out of the room. "Well! Thanks for saving me."
Moments later, Abed returns to the study room to find Jeff missing. He frowns, and looks around the paint-splattered walls.
"Well damn," Abed says, in an affected accent. "Now that's what I call a Valentine's Day Massacre!"
There's a clang as Jeff emerges from the vents. "Abed! You're alive!"
"The Dean leapt into live fire to save me. It was gruesome- he thought I was you."
"Huh?" Jeff says, as he looks Abed up and down. Then, he frowns. "Oh. That explains why you have the shell-shocked look of someone who just got flir- dean -ed with." His smile sobers, and he watches him with concern. "Is this going to become a problem?" Jeff asks.
"Nah. I have a feeling he'll lose interest in me pretty soon." He holds a hand out, and Jeff takes it, with a curious frown.
*
As Abed leads the still-shirtless Jeff past the entrance to the rec room, there's a delighted gasp from inside. Jeff turns his head just in time to see The Dean collapsing, theatrically, onto a couch.
Jeff stops. "Abed? I'll kill you for this."
Abed smiles, and mimes a pair of finger-guns. "Pew-pew."