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Jeff was depressed.
Okay, depressed was an exaggeration, but he certainly wasn’t happy. He checked his watch for the umpteenth time before shoving his hands in his pockets again in frustration and wishing he’d just stayed home.
When Jeff had originally heard of the Valentine’s Day Formal, he’d scoffed. Because really, this was (community) college, not high school (though it might as well have been an extension of it), and there were already enough stupid school events, and - if he was really being honest, really - he was also single. Which hadn’t been a problem before, but he was in his thirties now and the routine he’d previously enjoyed was getting kind of boring. (First-time sex wasn’t even that great. Maybe mediocre at best. So he’d only had mediocre sex in the past four months, which was really shitty to think about, now that he thought about it.) Naturally, Jeff’s solution was to stay home and get drunk. And, if he was really bored, have some more mediocre sex.
“Jeff, you have to come!” Annie had whined, Disney eyes having no mercy on his poor soul. “Annie. I don’t have to come.” Her lower lip trembled. “But Jeeeeff,” she pouted, drawing out his name, causing Jeff to curse himself (and Annie too). “Ugh. Fine. Don’t expect me to help out.” Annie bounced on the balls of her feet, let out a little squeak (typical Annie), then proceeded to run off and pass out more fliers. (“You too?” Britta asked later, pulling out her crumpled flier in response to his sullen demeanor. He raised his eyebrows without looking up from his phone, and she sighed in agreement.)
The second he and his date had arrived, she’d immediately left him for another guy. Or, rather, she’d immediately left him to stand next to a guy who was in the midst of slipping his hand up another girl’s dress. (And they were probably only about five years younger than him. This was high school all over again. He was surrounded by high schoolers. So this was hell.) He shook his head, maneuvering into a corner and trying to convince himself that he could wait another half hour before leaving. And that’s why he was feeling… glum.
He had looked around for Britta when his date had ditched him, because she was the only person he could commiserate with, but when he located her, she was mid-dance with a guy in their STAT 201 class. And also mid-make out. (To which he immediately felt jealous, but then, mainly, a little bit grossed out. Because yeah, he could do some PDA, but making out on the makeshift dance floor at a Greendale dance? Really Britta? Ew.)
During minute 16, he’d managed to lock eyes with a brunette across the room. She was around Britta’s age, with full red lips and legs that could kill. He sauntered over, plastering his classic Jeff-Winger-smile onto his face. “Hi,” he grinned. “Jeff.”
“Alice,” she practically purred, nodding her head at the seat next to her, falling into easy conversation with him. (And okay, he could do this for 14 more minutes. He’d lost almost all of his dignity at this point, anyway. The fact that she was smart and witty and attractive helped him save a little face.)
She was mid-sentence about an uninteresting story about her community involvement (“these poor orphans see me as a mother,” she said, and he nodded politely before zoning out a bit. It’s not that he didn’t care, it was just - they were all 16 and 17 year-old boys, and she was maybe barely 30, and he really doubted they saw her as a mother) when Jeff saw Annie in his left peripheral. She was wearing a tight pink dress that was way too short, heels instead of her usual flats, and a smoky eye that tied it all together. Her hair was curled, framing her face and those Disney eyes perfectly.
She was also talking to a boy. And for whatever reason, Jeff felt something in his chest. He felt possessive. It took a second for him to recognize the feeling - he hadn’t felt possessive in a very long time - but when he finally reached his conclusion, he felt it flare in his chest again. This was normal, he reasoned. Annie was young, and he was protective of her. And she had invited him to this stupid formal and hadn’t even said hi to him, even though he knew she was watching the door. Yet she was talking to a boy with a stupid haircut, jeans that were too tight, and sunglasses on his head - even though it was dark inside. And his eyes kept drifting to her exposed décolletage whenever she threw her head back in laughter.
But Jeff couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that maybe (but probably not) he was jealous that she wasn’t laughing at him (but that was inappropriate). And he wouldn’t look at her body that way. Annie had gone through hell and back, and she should have been talking with someone who looked her in the eyes instead of at her cleavage, because she deserved respect, not to be treated like an object (even though Jeff had been guilty of objectifying women. But he’d changed, he digressed). He watched a little bit more, narrowing his eyes as Stupid-Haircut reached out and pushed a strand of her hair out of her eyes and whispered in her ear (and from the looks of it, it was more inappropriate than Annie was usually okay with). Jeff's entire body tensed, because, again, it was not okay for people to cross her boundaries. (But she seemed to be eating this behavior up, which only confused Jeff, because this was Annie and she was typically awkward about this sort of thing.) And also, he wanted her. (And not for mediocre sex, which was an even more surprising part to Jeff’s epiphany, because most of the time attraction = sex in his mind. But Annie was different, and maybe that was why he didn’t like that she was with someone else other than him.)
So of course, the only thing Jeff could do was put a stop to this.
“I’m sorry, could you excuse me for just one second?” he interrupted Alice, smiling at her. “It won’t take long.”
“Oh no, of course. I’ll be here,” she smiled back, rolling her eyes in jest. But Jeff was already halfway across the dance floor, taking long strides towards Annie.
“Annie! Hi!” he said, scooping her up and spinning her around. “Hi, I’m Jeff,” he said, reaching out to shake Stupid-Haircut’s hand. “Um, Dustin.” He glanced at Jeff’s arm, draped casually over Annie’s shoulders. “Sorry, I didn’t know she was your gi-“
“I’m not his girlfriend,” Annie answered adamantly, shrugging Jeff’s arm off. “Jeff, can I talk to you for a second?” She smiled apologetically to the other boy as she latched onto the inside of Jeff’s forearm (making sure to dig her fingernails into the sensitive skin and reveling in the way Jeff yelped in pain) and dragged Jeff out the doors and into the hallway.
“What. The fuck. Was that.” Annie demanded behind clenched teeth. “What was what? I was just saying hi!” Jeff shrugged for added effect, but knew it was no good. Annie always saw right through him. (It was frustrating, to be honest.) “Do not even try to play stupid with me right now. That was not okay, Jeff.” Jeff shrugged again. “I didn’t know you were into him. But if he’s going to act that weird with your guy frien-“
“Jeff.” His name was filled with venom, and for whatever reason, Jeff felt the possessive feeling travel up from his chest and to his throat upon hearing it.
“You know, maybe I don’t like watching a guy eye up my friend’s cleavage from across the room! Especially when she’s dressed like…”
“What? Like a slut? Fuck you, Jeff!” (Hearing her swear wasn’t weird anymore. It was actually sexy. Jeff almost began imagining what it would sound like if they were fuc-) And before he could stop the words, he blurted out “I want you to myself.” And because she was Annie, her mouth formed into a perfect circle, matching her eyes. (And she was cute all over again. Within two seconds, she could go from sexy as hell to adorable as fuck. Which was just another reason why he wanted her.)
“You want to fuck me because I look like this? That’s great. But I’m sure you can find someone else for that.” She dodged to the right, attempting to storm back to the dance, but her petite frame gave her the disadvantage. Jeff blocked her easily. “No, Annie. I want to be with you because you’re you. I don’t want to ogle you like Stupid-Haircut-“
“Dustin.”
“Like I said, Stupid-Haircut” - and there was her eye roll - “and hope that making you laugh is enough to undress you later. I want you. All of you.” A lifeless laugh escaped his throat. “I’m sick of being in my thirties and not paying attention to the fact that I’ve wanted you for a long time now. Since before Abed brought it up. Since before anything. I’ve always wanted you.”
“But mainly Britta,” Annie chipped in, a bit of resentment slipping into the statement.
“But I only acknowledged my feelings for Britta because they were more obvious than ever wanting you. Which sounds harsh, but it’s not my fault that my brain works this way.”
Annie wasn’t looking at him. (And that wasn’t good, because he’d just laid all his cards out on the table but couldn’t even begin to guess what Annie was thinking.) “Annie, look at me.” He reached out, hesitating before cupping her chin and gently bringing her face to look up at him. “Annie.” The Disney eyes shifted over to meet his own (boring, normal) ones, and he melted again. (This girl could do anything with those eyes, and it really wasn’t fair that she could control him like that. Jeff Winger was supposed to be in control all the time. Not the case here. Which maybe was a good thing.)
“Do you mean that?” she asked, and her voice was so wrecked, and he realized that his was too. “Yeah,” he nodded, refusing to blink. “All of it.”
“Hm.” They stayed like that, boldly meeting each other’s stares. Jeff let Annie take the reins and decide where this was headed. After a few moments, she removed his hand and rose to her toes (because she was so short, and it was so cute, dammit), delicately pressing her lips to his. (And it was probably so wrong to be doing this, to feel this way, to let her know, to enjoy this kiss, to think about the future with her, but he didn’t particularly care at all anymore, because Annie’s body pressed against his was all that mattered to him from there on out).
She sunk back down quickly, looking at him to gauge his reaction. Seeing that he wasn’t about to change his mind and bolt like he’d done with all the women she’d known in his past, she rose up again. Jeff kissed back gently (and he was pretty sure this was the most gentle he’d been kissing somebody recently, because almost all his kisses in the past four months had been passionate and foreplay and kind of mediocre - not unlike the sex that followed), flattening his palm against the small of her back and entwining his other hand in her hair. She finally pulled back. “I think you messed up my hair,” she giggled, beaming at him, and Jeff beamed right back, leaning down to kiss her again (because he couldn’t get enough of this, ever).
“Ann- oh,” a meek voice came from behind Jeff. Annie peered over and Jeff awkwardly craned his neck around to see who it was. Dustin stood there awkwardly, running his hand through his hair. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you?” He eyed Jeff up, causing Jeff to smirk, then chuckle, then full-on laugh at the ridiculousness of his question. Annie swatted Jeff’s arm. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for checking, though,” she smiled. Jeff collected himself. “She’s very okay. Now, if you could stop checking her out, that’d be cool.” Dustin fumbled for words, eventually resorting to backing toward the doors. “And your hair is stupid. Stupid-Hair,” Jeff stated (because he was all about being honest right now. And he didn’t really care what the douchebag thought, because the asshole had been objectifying Jeff’s Annie, and that wasn’t okay at all). “Jeff!” Annie hissed, but he could tell she was trying to hide a laugh herself behind a squeak. Dustin shot Jeff a death glare before turning around and shoving the doors open aggressively.
Annie joined Jeff in his laughter then, head-butting his chest once her abs started to hurt and the laughing subsided. “Do you want to leave early?” Jeff asked, knowing exactly what her answer would be. “I can’t go! I helped put this whole thing together. And I signed up for clean-up.” He sighed. “Yeah, I know.” Annie bit her lip in response. “Or we could just… ditch,” and her shrug was so tense it was almost laughable. (But he caught himself before he embarrassed her, because this was huge for Annie, and he knew that.) “M’lady,” he said, holding out his arm. “M’lord,” she smiled shyly, taking it as they walked out the door.
(And even though he didn’t have full control of the situation, it was okay, because Annie being in control could only lead to good things. And also, it was attractive, like her. And he maybe even liked it a little. But Annie didn’t have to know, so long as he did.)