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From the moment he first meets Troy, Abed is intrigued by him.
Troy is an incredibly open person. He’s never afraid to let his emotions save for when he was still clinging tightly onto his fabricated jock-persona. He’s always obvious in his body language, his physicality, and aside from that, his facial expressions are so forward. Abed understands what they mean most of the time before he even has to relate them to a movie character in a certain scenario. In that way, Troy is immediately different from everyone else.
Abed struggles with physical touch, but Troy is noticeably very comfortable with it. He drapes himself over people like a cat, carelessly slings an arm around Annie’s shoulder, shakes hands with Jeff, lightly touches Britta’s arm when they talk. But despite his openness, his general closeness with everyone, it still feels weirdly special when he touches Abed.
The first time he does is casually, during conversation, placing his hand on Abed’s upper bicep without apparent reason. Abed can feel the warm glow of his body heat, the pressure of his touch, searing through every single nerve in his body. Troy probably doesn’t even think twice about it.
And Abed thinks it over way more than he should.
•
“Do you think Harrison Ford is better as Indiana Jones or Han Solo?” Troy asks. They’re lingering in the hall.
Since they started having study meetings with the group, Abed and Troy have often remained behind, just the two of them. Abed doesn’t have anywhere else to be, and he likes Troy. He figures that Troy isn’t really aching to go home either, because he’s always the last to leave.
Abed focuses back on the question at hand, ponders for a moment.
“That’s a really difficult decision. I think he’s more fleshed out as Indiana Jones, but Han Solo is simply more iconic. Purely based on the impact Star Wars had in general, and the amount of quotable lines he provides in those films, I’d say Han Solo,” he rattles, pointing his finger as he explains. Troy is nodding along diligently, like he’s hanging on to Abed’s every word.
“What do you think?” Abed asks.
Preceding an answer, Troy puts his hand on his shoulder, deliberate, with his fingers pressing into Abed's bicep, his touch tender and firm. “I was on the fence because Indiana Jones has a whip which ups his cool points by so much, but now I’m thinking Han Solo too.”
Lately Abed has been wondering if Troy is merely indulging him in his love for movies and pop culture at times. Whatever it is, Abed appreciates how they can talk about these things. At first glance, Troy hadn't seemed like much of a nerd, but he most definitely seems to be. At least when they're together.
“Harrison Ford has some of the coolest roles ever under his belt. I mean, imagine having played Indiana Jones and Han Solo,” Abed says.
“And the guy from Blade Runner,” Troy adds.
Abed nods frantically. “Yes! And Dr. Kimble from The Fugitive. Don’t even get me started on that character, or that movie. It’s so fantastic, I could talk about it for hours.”
Troy is still touching Abed, his hand not having left its place on his shoulder. With an open gaze, he listens to him ramble, and he doesn’t let go until they’re way past the topic of Harrison Ford, and The Fugitive.
Abed feels him linger all day.
•
Their first handshake comes about quite awkwardly. But once it’s there, it’s there.
They’re discussing Spanish class and instead of putting his hand on Abed’s shoulder like he tends to do, Troy holds out his hand midair, inviting Abed to do a handshake. But Abed isn’t prepared for such a gesture, so he frowns before awkwardly tapping his hand to Troy’s.
Troy laughs, then pats his chest while tapping back against Abed’s hand. Abed in turn mirrors his movement. And so, the handshake is formed.
After that, Troy keeps initiating it. Abed thinks he might really enjoy it. That’s cool. Abed’s never had a handshake with anyone. And Troy made one up especially for them. Cool, cool, cool.
Every time they do it, Troy shoots Abed this proud smile, like he benefits from their friendship as much as Abed does. Which Abed is sure is not true, because a sociable, kind person like Troy won’t last long with someone like him. He’s lucky to have happened upon him at all, and even if Abed won’t get anything else out of Greendale, at least he’ll have gotten to experience having a good friend for once. That almost seems like enough.
•
“Is that new? When did you guys even come up with that?” Jeff asks, when they do their handshake in the study room.
“Troy made it up,” Abed says, only half-answering the question. Troy grins sheepishly.
“Aw guys, that's adorable! Remind me again of how old the two of you are because I'm pretty sure it's not kindergarten age,” Jeff remarks, leaning back in his chair. Abed is pretty sure that he’s being sarcastic.
Troy smiles at him, small and secretive. “He’s jealous,” he whispers, leaning in so Jeff won’t hear. Abed smirks.
“I think it’s sweet,” Annie coos, folding her hands together.
“Me too!” Britta says, defiantly staring at Jeff, who rolls his eyes, letting the issue go.
•
The first time Troy hugs him, Abed freezes.
He almost always does during hugs; it’s an aspect of physical touch he’s never been able to figure out. The context that requires a hug is so subjective and varied that it doesn’t make sense at all to him. By the time someone’s hugging him, he’s so deep inside his own head trying to figure out the logic behind the gesture, he forgets to ever hug back. It's not like he doesn't want to.
Most of the time, when Abed doesn’t hug someone back, they just ignore it. People probably write him off as a socially awkward weirdo. At least that’s Abed’s hypothesis based on his high school experiences. But Troy doesn’t ignore it. He pulls back slowly, cocks his head.
“Do you not like being hugged?” he asks in an inquisitive, curious tone.
Abed has never been asked before. He can barely believe Troy would even consider it, and feels warm all over suddenly.
“No, it’s okay. I like it. I just might not hug back. So you can hug me, if that’s not a problem for you. But I get how it’s a bit awkward,” he explains.
Troy nods slowly through his comprehension, attempting to understand. And maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. But that doesn’t really matter.
“It’s not a problem for me,” he grins, punctuating the sentiment with another hug. Abed smiles against his shoulder, a strange light flutter blossoming beneath his ribs.
•
Troy is generous with hugs, especially when it comes to Abed. Abed’s whole entire paradigm of what exactly warrants a hug is kind of falling apart because of him. Today during lunch, Troy catches him off guard.
They’re in line, and Abed’s scooping mashed potatoes onto Troy’s plate before putting some on his own as well. He gets to today’s arrangement of vegetables next, carrots and green beans. Abed takes neither due to texture conflicts. For Troy, he scoops only green beans onto his plate, vaguely remembering how Troy mentioned once before that he doesn’t like carrots. When he’s done scooping, he suddenly finds himself enveloped in Troy’s arms, who’s hugging him from the side.
“Why are you hugging me?” Abed asks, strangely feeling a smile pull at the edges of his mouth.
“You remembered about the carrots,” Troy remarks gleefully, pressed against Abed’s shoulder.
Abed pats his wrist. “We’re holding up the line,” he says flatly. Despite his dry tone, he feels pretty gooey inside. He’s not sure why.
Troy lets him go, grinning at the floor, before they head over to the lunch table together.
•
The first time Troy comes back to the dorms with Abed, it very much feels like a natural progression.
They are talking about their favorite cartoons. Then Abed says he needs to go because he has laundry to do. Except instead of saying goodbye, Troy follows him through the hall and all the way to his dorm. And they never stop talking.
Abed does his laundry, folding neatly, and Troy sits on the bottom bunk of his bed. He leaves when it’s already dark outside.
From that point on, it just makes more sense for them to move their hallway conversations to Abed’s room. It’s that much better if they can sit comfortably on the couch (or, more frequently, on opposite ends of Abed’s bed) when they have important discussions about who embodied the best Batman.
•
Troy and Abed have a fair share of classes together. Lately when they’ve been walking to class, Abed has noticed Troy wrapping his fingers around Abed’s wrist.
It feels like he’s doing it to keep Abed close to him, like he's afraid of losing him along the way. Abed doesn’t really understand. In fact, he has never understood why Troy likes him as much as he does. But he apparently does, so Abed rolls with it. He tries not to question it too much for his own sake, because dwelling on those sorts of insecurities is what sent him spiraling in the past, when he was all alone in high school, and in middle school, and before that too.
Troy’s hand is soft. It's possible he uses cream, or exfoliates, or something of the sort. His grip is firm, but not too tight.
Abed wonders for a while how he could effectively show Troy how much he appreciates the gesture, because he does. It's comforting to have Troy cling to him, a tethering, soft guiding force. But he doesn’t want to outright mention it, in case Troy is embarrassed that he does this in the first place, in case it’s just a subconscious thing. So, Abed decides, he’ll show Troy in a different way.
It’s a standard morning, and they’re side by side, walking to class, when Troy’s fingers wrap around Abed’s wrist. Without a word, Abed moves to slide the palm of his hand up, so it comes into contact with Troy’s hand, and then he clasps his fingers inward, interlacing with Troy’s.
It feels…warm. And maybe a little sweaty. But it’s nice. And Troy doesn’t mention it, but he does rub his thumb over the back of Abed’s hand a little, and his expression changes into a similar one he gets when someone compliments him, when someone is impressed with him, one where he smiles all shy, eyes gleaming. Abed assumes that’s a good thing.
From that point on, they occasionally hold hands. It’s mostly still Troy who initiates it, but Abed is glad to have been the one to have made the first move.
•
“Do you think people think it’s weird we hold hands?” Troy asks him once.
Abed shrugs. Of course he’s thought about it. His general conclusion is that yes, people probably think it’s weird if they’re not thinking that the two of them are a couple. But he doesn’t really want to tell Troy that, in case it’ll make him stop holding his hand. Abed’s especially careful not to mention the way Britta had asked him if he and Troy were finally dating a couple of days ago.
“Do you mind?” he asks tactically, instead of answering.
Troy shrugs. “Not really actually. I don’t care about any of those people.”
Abed smiles. “Me neither,” he says.
•
Abed’s grown pretty accustomed to having Troy at his dorm by now. He's always there. They even have designated spots on the couch. It’s a silly thing, but Abed still can’t really fathom he’s close enough to someone to even partake in the habit of having designated spots. It feels special.
Troy is a great person to watch movies with. He’s reactive, but not overly so. In fact, it seems like he measures the frequency of his responses according to how talkative of a mood Abed is in. Abed has come to notice this mannerism over the course of their multiple movie nights.
A while back, they’d watched Sixteen Candles. Abed felt extremely talkative, sharing his childhood memories of the film as they watched. Troy did the same thing, recalling the first time he watched the movie (at a friends house in secret, because his parents didn’t approve of ‘promiscuous’ films). But when they’d watched Edward Scissorhands together, Abed had been quiet all the way through, feeling contemplative, so Troy hadn’t said a word either.
Abed is frankly fascinated by this behavior. Troy is extremely caring and mindful of others, yet he probably doesn’t even know it. But Abed notices.
He also notices the way Troy often slouches against him, his head leaning back slightly against the couch cushions. He seems anxious for physical contact, especially during scary movies. This is not surprising to Abed. Troy is comfortable in his physicality, has been touchy with the whole study group since the moment they’d met. But he doesn’t do much more than just sit close to Abed. Sometimes he reaches out to hold his hand, nervously, and that’s the extent of it.
Until today.
Dusk has just barely fallen outside. Troy and Abed are watching Wall-E, with Troy blinking slowly, buried in the couch, much more slouched than usual. Abed this takes to mean that he’s probably just sleepy. It makes sense; Troy’s had a long day of classes and dance practice on top of that.
Feeling the impulse to comfort him, Abed searches between them for Troy’s hand. He tangles their fingers together tentatively.
“Mhm,” Troy hums. His eyelids hang all droopy, his lips are stretched into a lazy smile.
“Are you tired?” Abed asks, analyzing his features. Troy nods slowly.
Without saying anything else, he leans closer to Abed, putting his head on his shoulder. Now the sides of their bodies are pressed together all the way, and Abed holds their hands together in his lap.
“I’m gonna just take a nap, don't mind me,” Troy whispers, barely coherent. Abed nods, in a daze. Normally he'd freak out over anyone sleeping through a movie. But for some reason, he doesn’t really mind this time.
As Troy tumbles into sleep, Abed feels his breathing steady against his neck. He wonders if Troy is comfortable. Abed is pretty bony, with all sharp corners. He can’t imagine his shoulder is suitable for sleeping on. Maybe Troy would be more comfortable in a different position. Abed almost wants to pull him even closer, manoever him to sleep on his chest because it would be that much nicer.
But he doesn’t, in the end, in fear of disturbing him and ruining the gentleness of the moment. He just keeps on watching the movie, until the credits roll, and he has to shake Troy awake again.
•
The next week, they watch Ratatouille. Troy’s never seen it before.
“Are you gonna stay up this time? Last Pixar movie we watched, you fell asleep,” Abed teases, seated next to him on the couch.
Troy looks mildly panicked, and Abed is suddenly nervous that he didn’t inflect in the right way. Troy probably thinks he’s seriously mad.
“Kidding,” he says quickly, forcing himself to smile. Troy chuckles shyly. “Sorry about that though,” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You don’t have any reason to apologize,” Abed says, because it’s true.
“Okay,” Troy hums. Then he doesn’t say anything else, just leans his head against Abed’s shoulder, like last time, and sits flush against him.
•
At the end of the year, Troy asks him to move in together.
It makes sense, it really does. And Abed knows how much he would enjoy having Troy around all the time. But he needs to set some boundaries for himself.
Truth be told, he’s scared. His friendship with Troy is great, too great. They haven’t really had any issues so far, which is a rarity in Abed’s life when it comes to any relationship. He doesn’t think he’ll have something like this ever again if he ends up losing Troy, and wants to do anything to avoid an incident likely to cause that to happen.
If they would live together, Abed is pretty sure that he would end up driving Troy away. He has a lot of weird habits, enough to scare any sane person off. Not to mention his bad days. So he says no. Troy’s expression falters visibly when Abed breaks the news to him, like a kicked puppy. But it’s for the better—Abed knows that.
Troy moves in with Pierce instead. And true, he's kind of an asshole, but Abed can’t help but appreciate him for giving Troy a place to live. Troy doesn’t really talk about his home life much, and Abed doesn’t want to speculate. But it’s clear that he doesn’t really want to live at home if he can help it. And if Abed can’t give him what he needs, he’s glad that at least someone from their group can.
•
Troy’s still at his dorm all the time. Abed can feel himself getting more and more attached to him as time goes on. He tries his very best to avoid getting dependent, so Troy won’t eventually get sick of him. He's never felt this strong of an impulse to make sure he won't lose somoene. He tries to reassure himself a little, remembering not to dwell. If Troy were truly getting sick of him, he wouldn’t come over so often. Troy is honest and direct, gentle and kindhearted. Abed needs to trust that he’ll let him know when he’s done with him. That’s all he really can do.
•
During Anthropology class, Troy absentmindedly doodles on the corner of Abed’s notebook. Abed watches his pen move as it scribbles. He ends up drawing two stick-figures that look suspiciously like the two of them, with sparkles and stars and flowers and smiley-faces all around them. Abed can’t focus for the entire rest of the class.
•
After their final exam, the whole study group—minus Shirley, who just literally gave birth a few hours earlier and Pierce, who they strategically didn’t invite—goes out for drinks.
They go to a little cozy place on the corner of a street downtown, a different bar than they went for Troy’s birthday. Abed is grateful. That night, he got a drink thrown in his face. It wasn’t fun.
This time, it’s different. Everyone is in high spirits after having completed a year of worthless Anthropology classes and another year at Greendale.
Abed sits in the booth with Britta next to him and Troy across from him. Troy is drinking fast. Abed has noticed him throwing back glasses like he’s drinking water instead of alcohol. He says nothing about it, doesn't necessarily feel like he has the right to. Maybe Troy just felt like getting drunk today. Abed himself is not much of a drinker, and has been nursing the same beer all night.
The night progresses. Abed takes note of the way Troy’s face relaxes, how his smile comes out more regularly (it's distracting). At some point, Britta and Annie make their way to the dance floor, with a lot of misplaced confidence. Abed watches them, amused. Jeff shoots him and Troy a look translating to ‘girls, am I right?’, which Abed finds pretty typical.
Troy watches the dance floor scene with sparkling eyes, like he really wants to get up and join. Abed gives him a small nudge under the table with his foot. He meets his eye and smiles, gentle and secretive. He hopes it conveys what he wants to say; that he wants Troy to do whatever makes him happy, without feeling embarrassment. Right now, it seems like that's getting up on the dance floor with the girls. Troy smiles brightly, and gets up in an instant.
“What are you doing?” Jeff asks.
“Dancing, man,” Troy says with an unabashed grin.
Abed watches the group with Jeff for a while. More specifically, he watches Troy. The way Troy moves is incredibly intriguing to him. He dances with a kind of lightness, an elegance that wouldn’t necessarily be expected of him. There’s a a sweet kind of innocence to his step; a flowing beauty, an air of effortlessness. Abed offhandedly wonders what Jeff would think of the poetry he’s waxing about Troy inside his head.
After a while, Troy shuffles back towards the booth, with the smooth thumping beats of the music. He smiles again. Abed doesn’t even notice he’s smiling back until he feels his cheeks stretch.
“Come dance with the girls, it’s fun,” he says, his words blurring together, and he might be talking to both of them, but he’s only really looking at Abed. For some reason, that makes Abed’s heart beat a little faster.
He wordlessly gets up. Britta and Annie squeal excitedly at the prospect of Abed joining them on the dance floor. They pull at his shoulders and he starts to move—slowly, tentatively, because he’s not a good dancer, and he’s also not good at losing control. But it’s something. And Troy looks so happy right now.
They do some silly dances, gasping with laughter. Abed feels the good kind of weird. Soon, Troy grabs his hands, and doesn’t let go. He must be all-the-way drunk now, because he’s really close. After some sloppy moves, he leans his head against Abed’s chest, giggling.
“Should I take you home?” Abed asks, close to his ear. He cringes at the suggestive way it sounds. He had meant the question very literally, and hopes Troy picks up on that.
“Hmm, don’t wanna go back to Pierce’s house. He’s a jerk,” Troy slurs. Abed frowns at the fact that Troy apparently still denotes where he lives as ‘Pierce’s house’ instead of his home. It makes him a little sad. He wishes Troy had a place he could comfortably call his.
“Okay, you can sleep at mine,” he nods, not thinking about it too much.
“Yay,” Troy whisper-screams. He seems pretty gleeful, his eyes glazed over in drunkenness. Abed pats his shoulder, and starts to pull Troy towards the edge of the dance floor with him. Troy is docile, voluntarily lets himself get moved by Abed’s hands.
“Off we go,” Abed murmurs. They don’t bother saying goodbye to anyone. Abed imagines Troy will drag it out in his inebriated state, and the sooner they get to bed, the better.
During their drive home, Troy sings along to the music on the radio (given, he's very off-key). Abed tries to focus on the road. He’s a decent driver but he often becomes distracted. Having Troy next to him is not really helping.
When they finally get to the dorms, Troy immediately falls face-first onto the couch, tugging Abed along as he holds his hand. Abed manages to stay standing and snorts a laugh.
“The couch is gonna hurt your back,” he comments softly. Troy groans in protest, but eventually gets up. He flops onto the bottom bunk, curling in on himself, all the while still clinging onto Abed’s hand. Abed stands over him, suddenly highly aware of his breathing.
“You’re nice and cold,” Troy sighs happily, holding Abed’s hand to his chest.
“I'm at a pretty neutral temperature right now. You’re just warm,” Abed states.
“Hey, will you sleep here with me, please? You can—you can keep me at a regular body temperature," Troy hums.
Abed stills. He has never shared a bed with someone before. But he’s not necessarily opposed, and Troy is his best friend, so it should be cool. He figures doesn’t really need to dwell on the significance of this. Best friends share beds in movies sometimes, though Abed can’t really think of any examples right now.
“Let me change into pajamas,” he says before letting Troy go. Troy doesn’t change, but moves to kick off his jeans, leaving him in his shirt and boxers only.
“Did you have a good night?” he asks, his face mushed against the pillow. Abed gets under the covers next to him.
“Yeah, it was fun,” he says quietly. His knees knock against Troy’s on accident.
“Sorry,” he whispers. "I'm too tall for this."
Troy doesn’t respond, just nuzzles his head closer. Abed figures that might mean it’s okay that they’re touching, that Troy doesn’t mind.
His mind drifts off, and he ponders how many people Troy has shared a bed with before. Maybe he does this with all his best friends. Troy must have had a lot of friendships in his life. Abed sometimes imagines Troy in high school. He becomes a character in his head, the lead in a comedy movie or a cartoon, Troy the Football Prodigy, something like that. It could work. Abed remembers hating the popular kids at his school, but he understands why Troy would be popular. It makes sense that everyone wanted to spend time with him. Troy is a pretty amazing guy to hang out with.
Across from Abed now, he seems to have fallen asleep in mere seconds. Abed inhales deeply, lets the scent of Troy overtake him. In the end, Troy was sort of right about the body heat, and sharing it. Abed feels much nicer and warmer than before. Eventually, he lets his eyes fall shut too, drifting off to the sound of Troy’s steady breathing.
•
“Aren’t you sick of the dorms?” Troy asks.
They’re on the floor of Abed’s room, crafting costumes for their movies. It’s summer, and they’re on break, yet they’re still finding ways to spend nearly every day together. Troy is over at Abed’s dorm indefinitely more frequently than he is at Pierce’s mansion nowadays.
“Sometimes. I would like a little more privacy,” Abed shrugs.
Troy shifts his focus to the cardboard armor he’s working on. Abed watches him paint the brown material a silvery gray color.
“You know, I spotted a place for rent a couple blocks from here. I looked it up online. It has two bedrooms,” Troy remarks after some silence, his tone casual.
At that point, Abed feels a strong impulse to say yes. He just doesn’t want to worry about it anymore. And maybe it's good to follow his gut.
“Okay,” he agrees, with a nod. Because if Troy isn’t sick of him by now, Abed needs to find the courage to give this a chance.
Troy starts to smile, all bright and lopsided, and it takes away what was left of Abed’s worries nearly in an instant.
•
After moving in together, their movie nights become much more frequent. Frankly, they can’t really find excuses anymore to not have them every night, and they end up shamelessly giving in to it. It’s not like people don’t already make fun of their close friendship. It doesn’t matter to them.
Even when they spend every moment together, Abed never finds himself getting sick of Troy. It’s like there’s never enough of him, and Abed wants him in abundance. Troy is like a bucket of buttered caramel popcorn, or Empire Strikes Back.
Sometimes they watch movies in their lazy boy chairs, in front of the TV. But on colder nights, when their heater is malfunctioning, they sit in Troy’s bottom bunk together. During the movie, Troy will end up laying against Abed, his head on his shoulder. They border on cuddling, holding hands under the blanket. Tonight, Troy’s eyes are heavy during their watch of Juno. Abed nuzzles his nose against Troy’s hair and breathes in, his coconut shampoo distinct and comforting.
“We can just finish tomorrow,” he murmurs.
Troy yawns. “Long day of classes,” he says by way of explanation, like he owes Abed that.
Abed closes his laptop, and puts it on the floor. He moves back slowly, so as not to have Troy’s head drop. Troy comes up sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
“Stay here,” he whispers, his voice barely even there. Under the sheets, his fingers squeeze Abed's.
“Are you okay?” Abed asks. He frankly has no idea what to do.
“Feeling so comfy. Just stay,” Troy shrugs, still not very elaborative.
Abed hesitantly gets under the covers and in a reclining position. There’s no harm in this, he thinks. Admittedly, he’s pretty comfy too. And Troy’s request is simple enough; stay. So Abed does. They've shared a bed before. It’s just that now, Troy is sober.
Their hands detangle, but Troy clings to his sleeve. Their ankles are crossed, and Troy's head is curled towards Abed's chest.
Despite his comfort, Abed can barely get to sleep at all, afraid he’ll accidentally pull Troy closer in his sleep. He doesn’t quite trust himself, especially not when he’s unconscious and possibly dreaming about Troy, which happens sometimes.
These days, Abed feels increasingly unsure of how to navigate their relationship. They're closer than most best friends, that's abundantly clear, closer than what Abed’s seen on TV. But it’s definitely not a romantic thing, he knows that much. Troy goes on dates with girls sometimes, and there are few signs that he likes men at all. Let alone Abed.
Maybe they're just in a league of their own. Abed will have to figure it out without the aid of movie examples. He falls asleep only when his mind finally stops racing, a good two hours after.
•
Annie moves into their apartment about a month later.
She fits well with the two of them, grounds them when they get a bit too absorbed into their own world. She gets the second bedroom, which means that Troy and Abed move their bunk bed to the blanket fort. They established the Dreamatorium a while ago, and they’re not about to give it up. After all, it’s in the lease.
They spend a lot of time in the Dreamatorium, rendering imaginary dreamscapes, which to normal people is just make-believe. It's special. Abed’s never had a best friend like Troy, and he's never been able to be himself around someone like this. The fact that he can express even his most ridiculous ideas around him without ever feeling embarrassed is nearly incomprehensible.
Abed cherishes their friendship every day. The way Troy smiles with awe at Abed’s crazy scenarios, the way he’ll add onto them, make up his own stories, narrate their adventures in the softest voice, letting his imagination run wild.
Most of all, Abed hopes he’s able to return the favor. He hopes he tries enough, to offer Troy the same level of understanding. Troy had told him once that he never had a best friend either, defying Abed's expectations. Quietly, he'd admitted how much he had hidden away all his life. When he was popular in high school, he could never truly be himself. His parents never accepted who he was either.
Abed truly hopes that Troy knows how much he likes him for the way he is. Because he does, a lot.
Maybe more than he should.
•
With time passing, most movie nights end up happening in the bunk bed.
The heater isn't broken. It’s just that both of them know it’s better in all ways. And at some point, it feels a bit naive to deny it anymore.
When they fall asleep tangled up in each other’s arms, they don’t really discuss it afterwards. They simply wake up, get ready, and move on with their day.
•
One afternoon in the study room, when the rest of the group has already left, Abed starts rambling about Final Destination.
Troy doesn’t interject him at any point; he never does. Abed isn’t even really sure how long he talks for. When he’s done, Troy laughs softly (in a sweet, earnest kind of way, not the way people used to laugh at Abed).
“I love you man,” he says, his eyes shining, his gaze so incredibly sharp. Abed nods, feeling dazed. He doesn’t know what to say.
“Thanks for explaining the movies so well. Now I don't have to watch them. They sound hella scary,” Troy laughs breathlessly, smoothly moving the conversation along. Abed is grateful.
“No, you definitely still have to see them,” he shakes his head, “In fact, I will make you watch them with me tonight.”
The day passes on like normal, and later on, Abed holds a shaking Troy as they watch a pileup of logs burst through a car window.
Somehow though, Abed can’t stop thinking. Troy told him he loved him like it meant next to nothing. Weeks pass, and he goes over the moment in his head again and again. Something about the fact that Troy just randomly said it, without any effort or strife, in the study room, during the middle of the day. It seemed like such a natural thing for him to say. Abed doesn’t know what to do with that.
He spends a lot of time imagining a scenario in which he can tell Troy that he loves him too. He tries it out in the bathroom mirror, testing the way the words sound in his mouth, practicing his delivery, so he doesn't sound too intense when he tells Troy. After all, they're still just best friends, and loving someone doesn't mean you're in love with them, though that might not be true for Abed.
That night they’re watching Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Troy is cuddled up against Abed, his gaze focused. Abed breathes in deeply before gently tapping his wrist.
“What’s up?” Troy asks, not looking away from the screen.
“I love you too,” Abed says matter-of-factly, grateful for their lack of eye-contact. He suddenly feels a bit stupid, realzing just how strange it is for him to respond to Troy’s words weeks later, completely out of the blue.
Troy says nothing for a while, but Abed watches the smile as it grows on his face.
“Awesome,” he whispers then, like receiving Abed’s love is a price to be won.
•
Bad movie nights become a habit in their apartment. If they can manage it, the group comes over ever week for the occassion.
“Can you not get a couch or something,” Jeff grumbles.
“Yes, what am I sitting on a kitchen chair for?” Shirley complains.
“You can have my chair Shirley, I’ll just share with Abed,” Troy says happily, getting up in an instant.
Shirley pauses. “Oh…okay. Thank you Troy, that’s very sweet.” She gets into the lazy boy chair. Jeff sighs, still not satisfied. But Abed pays him no mind.
He scoots over a little. There’s still not nearly enough room in the chair for the both of them, so Troy ends up lying half on top of him, which Abed is used to by now, but the group is not.
“Look at you two, all chum,” Britta comments, stifling a grin.
“You should see them when they watch movies in their blanket fort,” Annie says, and Abed cocks an eyebrow, wondering what she’s seen. Maybe she’d peeked in at some point, to check on them while they were both napping. That would make sense. He feels his skin grow cold, but Troy appears unbothered.
“Put your arm around me, so you can see better,” he whispers to Abed.
“Okay,” Abed breathes.
Jeff clears his throat. “I’m not sure if living together is good for you guys. You might actually end up melting together at some point,” he says.
Abed smiles to himself. That doesn’t sound too bad.
•
There are days when Abed can’t talk. They happen less often than they used to, but they still happen regardless.
On this particular day, Abed wakes up in the bottom bunk with Troy next to him. He blinks a couple of times and only moments after waking, he feels his brain flood, a low buzz resounding in the back of his head. The cars on the street downstairs pass by noisily, and his skin feels too small to fit his bones. He's an absolute wreck, and he knows it. The panic sets in.
“Mhm, good morning,” Troy hums. He stretches and sits up. Abed tries to breath in deeply, gripping onto the sheets.
“You okay?” Troy immediately catches on.
Abed shakes his head tentatively. It makes him feel so incredibly small admitting he’s not okay. But he has to. He doesn't want to confuse Troy.
“One of your bad days?”
Abed had told Troy about his bad days before they’d moved in, just to make sure. His intention wasn't to lead Troy on, and get him involved in something he wouldn’t want. But Troy had insisted it didn’t make a difference.
And sure, he's experienced Abed when he was going through smaller meltdowns, like when Cougar Town got moved to mid-season, but never on a day like this. Abed feels completely void of anything, his voice stuck in his throat, his skin crawling, his blood singing. He nods, feeling insecure. He’s been dreading this day, having to face Troy like this. He keeps his eyes glued to the wall so he doesn’t have to see the look on his face, hoping desperately it’s not too pitying.
“Do you need anything?” Troy asks, as he’s getting out of bed.
Abed pulls the blanket up to his chest, and shakes his head. He just wants quiet right now—quiet and darkness.
“Okay, buddy” Troy says quietly. He gets dressed, quick and rushed. Abed closes his eyes. When Troy’s done, he comes up to the bed for a moment. Abed sits up and forces himself to finally face him, taking in Troy's frown, his dark eyes shining with concern.
“Is it okay to touch you?” he whispers.
Abed wonders why he’s whispering. Then he recounts telling him about his issues with loud noises when he was giving his debrief, right before moving in. Troy remembered. Abed's heart glows with affection. He doesn’t think he really deserves Troy. He remembers to respond to the question, and nods. Touch can be horrid, but Troy is warm and firm and safe.
He squeezes his eyes shut before Troy wraps his arms around him, tightly, hugging him close to his chest. Abed doesn’t move, just revels in the feeling for a moment. He wishes Troy could always hold him like this, that Abed could hide in his arms forever, away from the world. But that’s a childish thing to want. He pushes the feeling to the back of his mind, where it can dissolve.
"Want me to stay home?"
Abed makes a little disgruntled noise that means 'no'.
“Okay. Feel better buddy. Text if you need me, okay?” Troy whispers against his temple. Abed nods slowly.
Then he barely even registers Troy pressing a small kiss to his forehead. But it happens. He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t retract the gesture immediately afterward, just drags a light hand through Abed’s hair, and lets him go. Then he’s out of the room and off to Greendale. Abed just sits there.
He lets his mind drift off. The day seems both unbearably long and gone in the blink of an eye.
After Troy comes home, he sneaks past the blankets of the fort and crosses the room wordlessly. Abed looks at him, hoping to convey with his eyes that he needs Troy to hold him again. Immediately, Troy understands, and he pulls Abed close.
Abed thinks about the way he’d kissed his forehead, hours ago. Maybe it was all in his imagination, or a vivid dream. It could be possible. Abed’s known to be wildly imaginative. And this morning seems so far away.
“Did you eat?” Troy asks.
Abed shakes his head.
“Wanna have some food?”
Abed shakes his head again.
“That’s okay. Just let me know when you do.”
Abed is frustrated over the fact that he still can't seem to talk. It's like his throat is blocked, like he can’t translate any of his thoughts into words no matter how hard he tries. He remembers the physical way in which Troy shows affection, the way he uses touch to communicate, and thinks that if he can't talk, he could at least attempt and do the same to show Troy some appreciation for his concern.
He scoots to the side of the bed, and lightly tugs on his sleeve. Troy gets it, fortunately, and moves under the covers after taking his shoes off. They turn on the mattress so they’re facing each other, like half moons. Abed grabs for Troy’s hand.
“Are you sad?” Troy whispers between the sheets. Abed shakes his head.
“Overwhelmed?”
At that, he nods. It’s less bad now than it was this morning, but all afternoon he’d sat perfectly still as if to not ripple any of the sound waves around him.
“Okay. Okay,” Troy says, “Good. Not that I want you to be overwhelmed. But I really don’t want you to be sad. Overwhelmed, we can handle. Sadness is something I can't necessarily fix. You know what I mean?”
Abed can’t help but smile a little at Troy's scattered justification of his thoughts. It feels like his cheeks are going to rip, but he can’t stop it from happening. This is the Troy effect, a scientific phenomenon that Abed has yet to investigate further.
“I know you do,” Troy grins back, like Abed said anything at all.
They lie there for maybe an hour, not speaking, but watching each other breathe in and out, holding onto each other’s hands on the sheets between them. Abed studies Troy’s face, the lines of his jaw, his nose, his eyebrows, his lips. Troy is very symmetrical and pleasant to look at, so Abed is glad to be in this predicament. And it almost feels like they’re talking, even if Abed can’t speak. It’s nice—most people would just ignore him when he’s unable to talk. His dad does. His mom did. But not Troy. Troy always finds another way.
“Do you want some space?” he whispers eventually, and Abed finds himself nodding. He’s in a strangely emotional mood, like he could burst out crying any second. He rarely cries, but he doesn’t trust himself to have any control on days like these. And he wouldn’t do that to Troy.
“Okay, I’ll be back in half an hour or so to check on you. Rest up buddy,” Troy smiles.
He gets up and out of bed slowly, careful. Abed closes his eyes, listening to Troy cross the room with the soft rustle of his clothes and the muted sound of his footsteps, the blankets moving as he enters the kitchen, and then nothing.
•
Bad days aren’t so bad with Troy around. They don’t come nearly as often as they used to, and when they do, Abed feels safe in his vulnerable state. Troy learns to speak his language even when he can’t talk. He knows to bury his fingers in Abed’s hair because it makes him feel secure, to keep his grip tight and even, to kiss his forehead and whisper sweet comforts to him. And Abed knows he’s in good hands.
•
Annie claims vehemently that they need to have another housewarming party for the apartment, since they never had one for her. She has been moved in for close to two months now, but that doesn’t matter because the group absolutely relishes the idea of a party.
They get a bunch of snacks and drinks. Britta insists that they invite over a bunch of people that are not part of their study group for variation, and soon the apartment is filled with bodies. At some point, Annie convinces everyone to do karaoke. It doesn’t take long until people are screaming their hearts out into a mic set that Abed had once bought for the purpose of narrating his friends as they went about their usual activities. He’d soon abandoned the idea, realizing it went just a little too far, and he doesn't want to get on Jeff Winger's bad side.
Abed likes karaoke just fine, but after two songs, he starts to feel a little light-headed. The living room is so crowded, and he can’t find Troy anywhere. He ends up fleeing to the bathroom, standing against the tiled wall, taking deep breaths as he watches his own reflection in the mirror.
“What are you doing in here?” Troy sounds suddenly, from by the door.
Abed turns, only mildly startled. He didn't notice him coming in. Somehow, Troy always manages to find him. He shrugs. “It’s loud out there. People overestimate their singing abilities and end up sounding like car alarms."
“Oh, yeah,” Troy laughs sheepishly. He steps closer to Abed, his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
Abed finds himself smiling for some strange reason, despite feeling anxious only minutes ago. Troy smiles too, all teeth. He’s right in front of Abed now, and Abed can smell the cologne that Troy often wears to mixers. It’s musky, with a tinge of orange.
“Wanna hole up in the Dreamatorium and watch a movie on your laptop?” Troy asks.
Abed shakes his head no. “As much as that would make me happy, we should get back out there. This is important to Annie,” he insists, finding it hard to resist.
“Are you okay?” Troy inquires gently.
Abed wants to say I am now that you’re here, but doesn’t.
“Yeah,” he just nods, “are you?”
Troy doesn’t say anything in reponse, but he leans his head forward to bump it against Abed’s shoulder. Then he just stays there. Abed isn’t sure what to do, though he senses that Troy is needy for physical affection. He slowly lifts his hand and places it on Troy’s back, between his shoulder blades and feels for the muscles there, lightly pressing down with his fingertips. Troy comes closer, leaning into him as Abed rests against the wall. Troy is warm as always. This feels nice, so Abed pulls him even closer with his other hand as it comes up to rest on the small of his back. Troy nuzzles his nose into the crook of Abed’s neck, and oh, Abed can feel his lips touch his skin.
He stands there wordlessly for a while, just holding Troy, and he wonders what would happen if someone came in right now. What would they think? Troy doesn’t seem to care much at all. In fact, he seems extremely content to be held by Abed.
“Troy,” Abed whispers, to keep him from falling asleep. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened. Sleep comes easily to Troy. Abed has learned that from nights of sharing the bed.
Slowly, Troy pulls back to look at him. His eyes are sparkling with something inscrutable, something Abed doesn't quite recognize. The longer they stand there, the longer Abed is starting to feel like he’s in a scene from some saccharine romcom. A scene where the characters kiss for the first time.
But that doesn’t make sense, because he and Troy aren’t supposed to kiss, and Abed never seriously considered a romantic subplot for them. Too many moving parts. But it all seems to fall into place at this moment. It feels right. Abed tilts his head slightly, as if to ask Troy is this what you want right now? Surely, Troy will know what he means without having to say anything out loud.
And Troy breathes in, nodding slightly before he pushes forward, meeting Abed’s lips.
He's soft and he tastes like fruit punch. His arms come up to link around Abed’s shoulders, pressed so close that Abed can feel all his muscles tense up against him. He digs his fingers into the fabric of Troy’s shirt, wrapping his arms around him tightly.
Troy is a bit of a tentative kisser, like he’s not quite sure of what he’s doing, so Abed takes charge, kissing him slowly, delicately, gently sliding his fingers up the nape of his neck, stroking his cheek, and holding him close. Troy hums a sweet, low noise at the excessive amount of physical touch, which goes straight to Abed's gut, a warm and heavy feeling. He abruptly pulls back, holding Troy at arms length.
“This seems a bit out of character for us."
Troy shrugs, his cheeks flushed. “I thought it was nice,” he says, with a loopy smile.
“Yeah,” Abed hums. It was nice.
Then they’re smiling at each other like idiots, and Abed thinks this should probably feel much weirder than it does. But it doesn’t. So, at once, he accepts reality for what it is. He and Troy kissed. It happens. He doesn’t question it any further.
“Let’s get back out there,” he says, though he would desperately love to kiss Troy again. He jerks his head towards the door. “They’ll get worried.”
Troy nods in agreement, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand.
•
Abed always notices when people stare at him.
It’s something he’d initially started to observe out of self-defense. In high school he was constantly on the lookout for bullies targeting him. Nowadays, it’s a pretty handy tool for reading social cues.
Troy has been staring at him increasingly often the past week. Ever since the party, his eyes have been tracking Abed’s every move. It’s not as obvious at times. But today, it’s especially noticeable. During the group’s study meeting, Troy’s eyes are all but stuck on him. Sometimes, Abed experimentally meets his gaze only to find Troy looking away quickly.
When they get home, Abed settles in in front of the television, aching to watch some Inspector Spacetime after a long day of classes. Troy quietly takes place next to him in his chair. Abed turns on the television, but feels Troy’s gaze burn into him as he does. He turns to finally face him, and Troy quickly avoids his eyes again.
“Troy?” Abed says.
Troy swallows, turns back and smiles tentatively.
“What’s with you?”
He laughs in a nervous manner, rubbing his neck. “You know that thing we did, at the party last week?”
They’d expertly managed to avoid the topic of their kiss up until now, pretending like nothing was out of the ordinary between them. This is the first time either of them have brought it up.
“Yes,” Abed says, maintaining eye-contact with Troy, who clears his throat.
“I think I wanna kiss you again,” he says. It's so overly blunt that it catches Abed off-guard. He didn’t expect Troy to say this at all. He’d actually been mentally preparing for Troy to end their friendship over the kiss. This however, is a pleasant surprise.
“Okay,” Abed finds himself nodding. He prefers his new method of not overthinking when it comes to the two of them.
Troy smiles out of relief, and gets up in an instant. “Okay, okay, okay,” he mumbles under his breath, as if he’s psyching himself up. Then he wastes no more time, goes to straddle Abed in his chair. Abed's hands settle on his thighs. He feels like he’s having an out-of-body experience as Troy comes even closer, his scent filling up Abed’s senses, boyish and sweet. He watches Troy's dark eyes shine with excitement as he gently pushes against Abed’s chest, pressing him into the chair, breaking the distance between them with a kiss.
Troy is more direct than last time, pretty much taking the lead. He'ss much more hungry, much more desperate. Abed wonders how often he's been wanting to do this the past week. The thought briefly crosses his mind—this is not normal for two best friends.
But then he gets distracted again. Troy isn’t shy to use his tongue. He licks along Abed’s bottom lip, prying him open. Abed lets it happen, feeling defenseless, his heartbeat speeding up. The weight of Troy sitting on him feels amazing. Abed’s hands travel up his back to hold him in place. Troy’s fingers claw at either side of his jaw, then at the nape of his neck, where Abed’s hair curls up.
Quick, Abed pulls back to take a breath. He might just pass out if they keep going.
“Is this okay?” Troy asks, concerned.
“Yes, I just need a second,” Abed explains, his head a mess.
Troy nods, looking genuinely ecstatic, which Abed is kind of amazed by. He wonders again what is happening here, this thing blooming between them. The boundaries of friendship are blurring. Abed has never had this close of a relationship ever before, and he's just not sure anymore. Maybe Troy is just using him for convenience’s sake, just to kiss someone. If that's the case, it's honestly fine with Abed. He’s enjoying it entirely too much.
He breaks their distance again by cupping Troy’s jaw, planting a sweet kiss on his lips, chaste and slow to get back into it. Troy lets out a soft sound that makes Abed want more, and he tugs him forward. He hopes Troy is too wrapped up in the kiss to notice the way he’s getting hard right now, because there’s most definitely blood rushing to his dick. Everything just feels so good, the way Troy bites on Abed’s bottom lip, gingerly explores his mouth with his tongue, the way he presses his entire body to Abed’s, supressing quiet whimpers.
“Troy,” Abed breathes in between kissing.
“Hmm?”
“This is a lot.”
Troy pulls back slowly.
“Wanna cool down?”
Abed nods cautiously, worried that if they keep going, he won’t be satisfied with just kissing anymore. He can't just assume Troy wants him like that.
“Okay. Let’s cuddle. Watch Inspector Spacetime?” Troy murmurs, his voice affable, his lips kissed swollen.
Abed decides to kiss him once more, because apparently he can. It feels a little like he just discovered a superpower. Troy smiles against his teeth, which makes Abed’s heart flutter. He imagines how they’d look from the viewer’s perspective. It’s a really nice image to think of.
When Troy breaks away from him, he’s beaming, his grin so wide his face could split. He doesn’t get up to go to his own chair, instead just turns, so his body is slotted against Abed, half lying on top of him. Abed takes a deep breath, then turns on the television.
•
Needless to say, once making out is something that is on the table, they start doing it all the time.
Abed isn’t really sure how this happened. Thinking back on the events leading up to him and Troy becoming this close leave him just as confused. But it’s a pleasant dynamic they share, something unspoken, something comfortable. They don’t have to talk about it because they’re both completely fine with the status quo. Or, at least Abed thinks he is.
He’s never been in love. He doesn’t really know how to categorize it. He knows the tell-tale signs of it, as shown in movies and television; drawing hearts in notebooks, daydreaming about your crush, staring at them longingly, all that jazz. He's not sure if that's what he's feeling.
He loves Troy. That much he knows. More than he’s ever loved anyone before. Troy is kind and funny and considerate and warm and sweet and probably the best person alive. But they’re best friends, so of course Abed would think that.
He shelves his worries for now. Making out is so much more tempting than spiraling. Whenever Annie is out of the house, they take the opportunity.
It always starts with Troy climbing on Abed’s lap, looping his arms around his shoulders and crushing his lips against his. They’ll make out for a good while. Some times things get more heated. Other times it's more relaxed, more sweet.
From time to time, they’ll kiss in bed, just before going to sleep. Those moments, it’s the hardest for Abed to control himself. It’s just that Troy is very attractive, regardless of Abed’s possible romantic feelings, and kissing him is somewhat bewildering. Abed finds himself ridden with fantasies of doing more to him, to see what kind of sounds he could elicit from Troy if he touched him in a different way, in different places.
Here they are again in bed, and Troy flips himself over, kissing Abed straight on the mouth. Then he really gets into it, pressing Abed down into the mattress, opening up his mouth, crooning the sweetest noises. Troy’s hands roam over his body, occasionally slipping under his pajama shirt. Abed holds him in place by the waist, by the hips, by his thighs. Then Troy pulls back, after pressing a fluttery kiss to Abed’s mouth, wrapping up their make out session with a sweet little bow.
“Goodnight buddy,” he whispers, rolling over, curling in on himself, leaving Abed to stare at the ceiling. Abed has to take several minutes to calm himself down, taking deep breaths in and out.
It happens like this all the time, and Abed's desire is starting to make him feel sick. He can’t stop thinking about Troy, can't stop thinking about leaving bite marks on him. In the morning, when he’s in the shower touching himself, he entertains the thought. He knows it's messed up. But he can’t help himself. He thinks about it so much, when he can’t get to sleep at night, or when he’s zoning out during study meetings, or even when Troy smiles at him. Maybe he’s going crazy. That would make sense.
If not that, then he might just be in love.
•
Annie barges into their fort one morning, ripping away the blankets.
“You guys, we’re going to be late! You need to get up right—”
She cuts herself off when she spots Abed and Troy in the bottom bunk together, draped over each other, blinking awake as their sleep gets rudely interrupted. The first thing Abed sees that morning is her face slack, eyes surprised.
“Hey Annie,” he says, “did we oversleep?”
“Yes,” Annie says, smiling sneakily, “Must have been too cozy.”
Now Troy is fully awake, but he doesn’t scramble to move away from Abed in fear of Annie seeing. In fact, he doesn’t seem to care much, doesn’t seem at all ashamed of the fact that he’s sharing a bed with his platonic best friend (that he sometimes kisses, Abed sidebars in his head).
“You go ahead,” Troy says, yawning, “I don’t want you to be late because of us.”
Annie nods, then smiles again.
“Okay guys,” she says in a tone of voice Abed can’t quite place. She almost sounds like she’s proud of them. But then again, that doesn’t really make sense for this context. Abed doesn’t waste time on wondering any further.
“See you later,” Troy murmurs, and he nuzzles his head against Abed's chest, going back to sleep.
•
“What if we did a War of Worlds kind of thing for Troy and Abed In The Morning?”
“I don’t know what that is.”
They’re in between classes, hanging in the study room.
“It was part of Orson Welles’ radio show The Mercury Theatre on the Air. In 1938 he did a segment with typical news bulletin-style voice-fragments narrating an alien invasion. People actually believed it was real, and it incited a panic amongst audiences. I think police even got involved,” Abed explains, with a classic finger-point.
“That’s awesome,” Troy exclaims, an excited expression on his face.
“Yeah, we should do something like that.”
“Yeah,” Troy says, smiling, “yeah.”
Abed nods frantically.
“Love you buddy” Troy tells him. It's out of the blue but simultaneously so entirely expected. Troy often tells him that he loves him. And Abed barely ever feels equipped to return the sentiment but he appreciates it nonetheless.
He pulls his lips together in a modest smile, shooting finger guns at Troy. Troy’s face breaks at this, a full toothy smile. He slots his arms around Abed’s neck, pulling him in for a hug. “Damn. I really love you a lot,” he murmurs, repeating the words.
Abed thinks his chest might explode one of these days.
•
It’s the early evening and Annie is at her debate club meeting. Due to her absence, Abed is lucky enough to get to make out with Troy in bed.
Troy is on top of him with one hand tangled in his hair and the other pushing him down on his chest. They’re both in their pajamas, their bodies pressed flush against each other through the thin fabric. Abed’s hands wander under Troy’s silk shirt, ghosting over his warm skin. When he pulls back from the kiss for a second, out of breath, he gives Troy a once-over. Troy looks wrecked, lids low and jaw slack, his chest heaving. And he’s clearly hard.
It’s not like Abed’s never noticed Troy getting hard before due to their making out. The first time it happened, it threw him for a loop. The fact that he has that effect on Troy is just…unbelievable. But then Abed got somewhat used to it, though if he thinks about it too much, it freaks him out a little.
So the fact is that it’s happened before, many times. It’s just that this time, Abed is staring directly at his boner in an incredibly non-subtle way, and Troy can definitely tell. And Abed is hard too, Troy must have noticed by now. He’s literally sitting on top of him.
They’re quiet for a while. When he finally gathers the courage, Abed comments—“You’re hard.”
Troy smiles awkwardly, buries his face in his hands like he’s embarrassed. “Yeah,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, if that’s weird or something. It's just that you're like really good at kissing.”
Abed is confused for a second. There’s no way Troy can’t feel Abed’s erection press against his leg, he has no reason to be embarrassed. Abed gently pries away Troy’s hands, kisses his knuckles and then his face.
“Not weird,” he says between kisses. “Do you want me to help you out?”
The offer kind of just slips out. Now that they’ve addressed their obvious sexual tension, it seems much easier. And Abed isn’t that nervous about it either. Excited, more so. He’s much more experienced with sexual relationships than romantic relationships, having had a decent amount of hook-ups while he was still living at the dorms.
Sex makes sense, like movies. The goal is clear; to please another person, and Abed finds that he really enjoys it when he succeeds. It’s a straightforward way of human connection without really having to talk, and Abed imagines that with Troy, it would be both fullfilling and mindblowing on another level.
“Please,” Troy says under his breath. Abed sighs, kissing him again as his fingers travel up Troy’s thighs. He experiments with gently grabbing him there, massaging his muscle. Troy visibly shivers at Abed’s touch, his body tensing up.
“Abeeeed,” he whines.
“Hmm?”
“Touch me,” Troy groans between his teeth.
Abed does as he's asked. He slips his hand under Troy's pants and palms his erection through his boxers. Troy feels nice in his hand. He wraps his fingers tighter around his dick, through the fabric. Troy gasps lightly, and Abed starts slowly stroking him. After a little while, Troy is making an array of frustrated noises, like he really wants Abed to take his clothes off.
“Patience young Troy,” Abed whispers, wiggling his eyebrows.
Troy leans forward laughing, surprised. “I’ve always wondered if you make movie references during sex.”
Abed raises his eyebrows. “You’ve always wondered?” he hums, curious about that particular comment.
“Just touch me,” Troy huffs, clearly desperate to change the subject.
“No need to tell me twice.”
Abed slides his fingers under the fabric of Troy’s boxers and swipes his thumb over the tip of his dick, which is already slick with pre-cum. Slowly, he wraps his fingers around his length. That draws a lot of noises out of Troy, though he tries to suppress them by lightly biting into Abed’s shoulder.
“Troy,” Abed says.
“Hmm?” Troy perks up.
Abed grabs him by the jaw, leans in. “I wanna hear you,” he whispers against the shell of his ear, so he really understands.
Troy shivers. “Okay."
Abed starts moving at a steady pace. Troy moans, leaning forward against him. He’s so beautiful, Abed finds himself thinking. He can’t even see Troy’s face right now. Still, the feeling takes up his brain. He's not really sure when he became such a romantic.
At some point, the fabric of Troy’s boxers and pants starts getting in the way of Abed moving any faster, and Troy starts becoming antsy because of it. He lightly thrusts into Abed’s hand, whining, desperate for him to take the garments off. Abed guides him to sit back against the headboard. Figuring Troy deserves the release, Abed pulls down his pants and boxers in a quick, swift motion. Troy watches him through hooded eyes as he moves forward, taking him into his hand again.
“Please,” he lets out a breathy moan.
Abed picks up a nice rhythm. “Feels good?” he whispers.
Troy nods fervently. “Feels so good.”
And god, Abed loves hearing Troy say it, loves hearing the words spill from his mouth, loves seeing the effect he has on Troy, the state of bliss he manages to put him in. He adores this, hearing Troy's train of thought, noises tumbling from his lips with a full-body shiver. It drives Abed absolutely insane, the good kind. He kisses Troy, all sloppy and split-slick, hoping that’ll convey his appreciation and get Troy to make more noises, say more words. Troy whimpers into his mouth, which is incredibly hot and pretty much exactly what Abed was aiming for.
“So good,” Troy moans again, and Abed keeps stroking him, faster and faster.
“Yeah?” he huffs, so desperately eager to hear it.
“Yeah Abed, holy shit. Your fingers feel so nice. I think—I think I’m close,” Troy breathes.
Abed keeps moving, slowly massaging Troy’s thigh with his other hand. Troy bucks his hips up, letting out some wonderfully sweet noises, ones he’s never made before, ones that Abed probably will never forget. And then, Abed watches as he comes all over Abed’s hand and his stomach, audibly gasping, his eyes rolling back.
When Troy’s all done, he leans backward against the headboard. Abed retracts his hand, sucks the residue cum off his fingers. It tastes kind of salty, but not in a bad way.
Troy raises his eyebrows at this. “Dude,” he says, in a daze.
He’s completely out of breath, his pupils blown wide. Abed feels intensely content watching him. He himself is still painfully hard. But he knows he doesn't need anything right now. Nothing could satisfy him more than just looking at Troy across from him. Troy wears his post-orgasm so well. There's a gleam of sweat covering his forehead, his lashes fluttering with exhaust. Abed can’t take his eyes off of him. He blinks a few times, trying to feel normal again.
“Want me to give you a hand?” Troy offers eventually.
Abed shakes his head. “That’s okay,” he insists.
At that, Troy smiles, a tinge of confusion on his face. He leans in, kissing him on the mouth. Abed kisses him back, wrapping his arms around Troy’s shoulders. When Troy pulls away, he buries his head in the crook of Abed’s neck. They hug for what feels like ages.
“Are you okay?” Abed hums after some time. Troy is uncharacteristically quiet.
“Yeah,” he whispers close to Abed’s ear. Abed nods slowly, rubbing Troy’s back.
When they’re apart again, Troy smiles in a shy kind of way, his fingers reaching for Abed’s hand.
“I love you,” he says, in earnest, “that was awesome.”
Abed nods at the frequently repeated sentiment. But he suddenly finds that he can’t speak. He's not really sure why the words hit him so hard this time around. Instead of saying anything back, he just squeezes Troy’s hand tighter. Troy kisses him one more time, all ghostly and tender, before pulling back.
“Let’s watch TV,” he smiles. And they do.
•
The pattern establishes itself quite quickly.
Whenever they find enough privacy, things will end up unfolding naturally. Abed will help Troy out, and Troy will offer to do the same for him, which Abed will decline, and then they’ll act like things are fine because what else is there to do?
Abed wonders frequently if he could categorize this a friends-with-benefits relationship, like in 2011’s No String Attached, or the aptly titled Friends with Benefits, which came out in the same year. But the main characters in those movies end up in a romantic relationship. Abed doesn’t really think he can accurately compare his and Troy's situation.
It's obvious. Troy doesn’t like him like that. Still, Abed is becoming more and more convinced by the day that he’s actually head over heels in love with Troy. He doesn’t try to acknowledge it too much. It can’t possibly influence their friendship positively. Recently he's been running simulations for the two of them. He must have imagined about a million different scenarios, having spent way too much time in the Dreamatorium.
Aside from all these feelings, there's also the fact that they’re not even having actual sex, which is kind of what makes the friends-with-benefits relationship. Not that Abed wouldn’t want that. Thinking about it makes him blush, so he banishes the idea to a far corner of his brain, where it can’t corrupt him any further.
He consoles himself. What he and Troy have is special. It hasn’t been portrayed in movies because it’s unique, one-of-a-kind, and that’s a good thing. Maybe one day, when Abed is a filmmaker, he can make movies about them. For now, no one knows, and that’s okay. It’s like their secret handshake, just for the two of them, and them only.
•
Troy is stressed today. There’s been a lot of pressure on him for joining the Air-Conditioning Repair School lately.
He fidgets agressively, drums rhythms against the table. Throughout their entire study session with the group, his eyes dart nervously around the room, his leg bouncing up and down in an erratic manner. He doesn’t tell Abed he’s stressed, but Abed knows anyway. It’s strange, he’s been convinced of telepathy existing ever since he met Troy.
At home, he immediately turns to him, trapping him by the entrance. It’s just the two of them. Annie’s over at Britta’s house to help her study, an impossibly tall order.
“Are you okay?” Abed asks, his voice resounding low in his throat. He doesn’t enjoy seeking out others feelings but it’s different with Troy, like nearly everything else is.
“Fine,” Troy says, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth.
Abed doesn’t hesitate when he pulls Troy in for a hug.
“I guess I’m just overthinking,” Troy groans. Abed pats his back.
“Can I do something for you?”
Troy shakes his head. “This is nice though,” he whispers, referring to their warm embrace.
Abed rubs circles against his shoulders, holding him in place. Troy hums contently. After a while, when Abed starts pressing down harder, massaging his back, Troy becomes a bit more vocal, releasing quiet, breathy sounds in time with Abed’s hands stroking up and down his body.
“You could do something for me actually,” he murmurs into his shoulder, an edge of darkness to his voice.
“Okay,” Abed says, understanding.
He slowly slides his fingers up, holding Troy by the sides of his face. He catches his gaze for just a moment, to register his expression. Troy’s eyes shine with neediness, the kind that takes a lot of trust to show, the kind that requires an intense level of vulnerability to present to another person. Abed kisses him, tenderly, softly, the best he can because that’s what Troy deserves. And Troy is immediately pliant, opening his mouth, leaning back against their apartment door. Abed slides his tongue over his bottom lip, licks into his mouth, buries his fingers in his hair. He can’t place the feeling in his chest. It might be desperation. He needs more of Troy always, anytime, and Troy is so willing to give it to him that it makes Abed want him even more.
“Abed,” Troy breaks into a quiet groan near his ear, his name sounding like a prayer, the way he softly whispers it.
“Yeah?” Abed huffs, out of breath.
“You know what I mean right?”
Abed nods against his shoulder. “Yeah,” he says. “Troy, can I propose something?”
Troy hangs back. “Okay?”
Abed makes sure to hold his gaze, to catch his expression when it changes.
“Can I use my mouth?” he asks.
And Troy’s face goes slack. He blinks a couple of times, then licks his lips, starts to nod frantically.
“Oh. Yeah, definitely. That’s a great idea.”
“Good. Good. I’m going to take off your pants.”
“Okay.”
So Abed moves to pull down Troy’s jeans, to his ankles. He’s hard in his boxers, a wet spot showing on the front of them, and it takes everything in Abed to act cool, like the sight of it doesn’t make blood rush to his head. He kneels down on the floor and starts kissing Troy’s thighs. Above him, Troy reacts well, whimpering, his knees slightly buckling. Abed holds onto his hips, then looks up at him.
“Do you like that?” he asks.
Troy nods, his pupils blown wide. “It feels so good,” he sighs. His words pretty much go straight to Abed’s dick, and his eyes roll back a little.
Troy’s expression darkens. He knots his fingers in Abed’s hair, tugs slightly.
“Do you like that?” he speaks, flipping the question back on him.
Abed isn’t sure what he means—the hair pulling or the verbal feedback. The answer is yes to both. Regardless, he tries to clarify.
“What do you mean?”
Troy cocks his head to the side.
“Do you like it when I talk to you?”
Abed feels so vulnerable admitting it, still somewhere in the depths of his brain scared that Troy will think he’s crazy for having needs. But they've been so intimate by now, he really shouldn’t be feeling scared anymore. He hates how his brain has been conditioned, how he still doubts being treated well even if Troy’s never done anything less but that.
“Yes,” he answers solemnly, the sincerity slipping out of him. "It's helpful to me." Troy leans down to kiss him.
“Okay,” he breathes, “I’ll keep that in mind. Could you please touch me again?”
Abed is, in fact, touching him, a steady hold on his hips. But he understands the implication. That’s not what Troy wants, Troy wants more. At the moment, Abed doesn’t even hesitate a little bit to give it to him. He’ll probably do anything Troy asks.
He leans in again, presses his mouth to the warm skin of Troy’s thighs, leaving small kisses, experimenting by licking long stripes, up up up, coming closer. Troy rolls his head back.
“You’re gonna drive me crazy,” he spills, “please keep going.”
Abed feels warm all over, like he could faint any second. He heeds of Troy’s request, and pulls down his boxers slowly. Troy is very very hard. That's a nice sight to see.
He wants to ease into this. He’s given a decent amount of blowjobs before but they’ve never felt very special at all. This is so entirely different. He gently mouthes along the length.
Troy is utmost responsive with the noises he makes. When Abed looks up, he catches his eye. The realization that Troy is intently watching him is pretty hot, because Abed’s had plenty of experiences of people looking away at all times. But Troy’s gaze rarely leaves his, eyelids lowered through the haze.
“Can you please—” he groans through his teeth, his fingers finding their way in Abed’s hair again.
Abed takes the hint, and takes Troy into his mouth. He starts moving. Back and forth, slower and then faster again. Abed knows the success formula. What he likes most is watching Troy through it. Their eye contact is intense and strong. Abed enjoys it more than he ever thought he could.
“You’re- you’re good at this. I’ve never- God, this feels so good, what the hell. How did you get so good at this? Oh man, this is awesome,” Troy rattles.
Abed feels a warm glow in his chest, of pride, maybe. The way Troy’s stroking his hair also helps. It’s just that Abed feels so useful, so valuable for how good he can make Troy feel, his best friend in the entire world, who deserves nothing but goodness.
He hollows out his cheeks and takes Troy in even further. A while back, he’d taught himself not to gag for maximum pleasuring results, and that’s definitely paying off right now. Troy is a whimpering mess above him, gripping at Abed’s hair, rougher than he’s probably ever touched him before. Abed likes it so much.
“I’m gonna finish if you keep this up. Just- just so you know. Holy shit. You’re so good. So good to me, oh my god Abed.”
Abed almost feels like he might cry, but that’s silly. This whole experience is sending him to another dimension though, his head spinning.
He doesn’t pull away because he doesn’t mind swallowing, and he feels like Troy might like that sort of thing (entirely and completely just Abed’s hypothesis, a fantasy maybe even). And then Troy lets himself go, shivering through his orgasm, his fingers tensing up in Abed’s hair. Abed swallows down all his cum, the taste being not too unfamiliar to him now because he’s given Troy multiple hand jobs at this point, sucked up his fingers in lieu of cleaning their mess.
When he’s done, he pulls back, wipes his mouth, still looking at Troy, who has now closed his eyes in blissful exhaustion. When he looks at Abed again, eyes fluttering open, he wastes no time to kiss him straight on the mouth, leaning down as he does so. To make it a little easier, Abed stands back up. His knees feel a bit sore but he finds that it’s a welcome kind of pain. A reminder, maybe. In any case, Abed doesn’t mind. Troy kisses him like he’s been starving. Abed lets it all overcome him, feeling lethargic and content.
“You’re incredible,” Troy says between kisses. Abed has no idea what that means. He wishes he knew how to respond, how to tell Troy that he has never done this before with anyone, not in this way at least. He wonders what Troy would think if he’d tell him that he’s never actually felt as good during sex as with him, because it means something, even if it doesn’t really mean something, because he can’t get enough of Troy, because he loves him. He loves him. He pulls back eventually, smiling shyly.
“I hope that made you feel a little better,” he says in earnest. Troy nods.
“Miles better,” he grins, pulling up his pants in a slightly awkward fashion.
They stand in silence for a while, just looking at each other.
“Wanna play in the Dreamatorium?” Troy asks then.
Abed nods, excited. “Yes. I’ve been wanting to reenact the episode where Inspector Spacetime finds out Constable Reggie is actually his arch nemesis in another lifetime.”
•
“I’m not crying,” Troy says, through irrefutable tears. Abed laughs, pulls him in by the shoulders.
They’re watching About a Boy, and Troy has been silently weeping for about ten minutes now.
“It’s the soundtrack,” he explains, voice feeble, muffled against the crook of his neck. Abed pats his back.
“It is very good,” he says in a consoling tone of voice. Troy nods, still crying softly.
“Ooooh, something to talk about,” Abed softly sings near his ear. Troy wipes his face on his shirt, giggles.
“Yeah, something to talk about,” he chimes in.
“I’ve been dreaming of the things I learned about a boy,” Abed finishes.
When Troy pulls back, his eyes are still watery but he’s smiling so wide that it fills Abed’s chest with a bright, overbearing happiness too.
•
“What about you?” Troy asks him outright one day, because they’ve been brushing off the topic.
Their sexual encounters have increased in frequency as of recently but notably it’s been exclusively Abed doing stuff to Troy. And Abed isn’t quite sure how to explain that he’s not brave enough to lose control like that with another person, not now and probably not ever. It has nothing to do with Troy, with how much he trusts him. It’s just that he doesn’t trust himself to be okay with it, when the focus is solely on him, and him only. Besides, he gains so much more from pleasuring the person he’s with. It’s not like he hasn’t tried being the one on the receiving end ever before, in previous relations. It’s just that he always ended up feeling horrible. At first, he tells Troy a watered down version of the truth.
“I’d rather do things for you,” he says, “that’s what’s satisfying for me.”
Troy nods slowly, like he’s trying to understand.
“But I wanna make you feel good too,” he says, with his head tilted.
“You do already.”
He stares at Abed for a long time. Then he looks away.
“Do you just not want me to, or is it not that? I just wanna know,” he asks, in a small voice.
Abed shakes his head fervently, terrified to find out that he made Troy feel insecure. He curses himself for creating these misunderstandings, and he takes Troy’s hands in his.
“No, Troy, that’s not it at all,” he says. He feels like he owes it to him to explain more. “It’s just that it takes a lot out of me to lose control. I don’t feel comfortable when I’m lost in a feeling like that, and I don’t want to saddle anyone up with it. I know you want the best for me but it’s just something that I’ve never enjoyed. I promise it’s not you. I hope that doesn’t disappoint you.”
Troy seems to be taking in his words, dark eyes glistening softly. He’s so pretty, Abed offhandedly thinks. He wants to give him everything he can, as much as he can, to the best of his abilities, so he really hopes Troy understands.
“It doesn’t disappoint me. I just really wanted to give you the same thing that you’ve been giving me, and I wasn’t sure how you felt about it. Now that I know, I don’t have to worry anymore. I’m glad you told me. I want to make you feel good in a way that works for both of us,” Troy speaks now, so considerate. God, Abed loves him. That’s just a passive thought in his brain by now.
“You make me feel really good Troy,” he responds, smiling.
“Okay,” Troy says with a grin, “I'm glad.”
•
No matter what happens, they’re still just best friends. That’s what they’ve denoted this thing between them as, and that’s what it’ll remain to be.
Abed has successfully convinced himself that it’s fine like this. Troy is just his best friend who he occasionally kisses and gives blowjobs to. That’s great. He should be glad, because the basis of their friendship has remained unaffected throughout all this, and how many friendships could withstand sexual tension? Their bond has become stronger, even. They play in the Dreamatorium and talk about movies for hours, and Troy falls asleep in Abed’s arms, and makes him buttered noodles, kisses him in the morning when Annie’s in the shower, and holds his hand under the table during study meetings. But still, Abed finds himself mulling over their arrangement when it’s 3 am and he can’t sleep, and the ceiling starts to spin.
He thinks about dating, and girls, and relationships, about how next year, they’re going to graduate from Greendale and what’ll happen then? Will Troy still want to live with him? And what if Troy meets a girl? Then, what will become of their friendship, if this is all still part of it?
Maybe they can’t be just friends, and maybe it wouldn’t be so wrong to acknowledge that. Abed’s been working up the courage for a while now, to tell Troy how much he likes what they’re doing, how he never wants to stop, how he wants to be able to kiss Troy forever, how he won’t ever be okay with someone else doing so, and how he can’t imagine how irreparable the hole in his heart would be if he’d ever lose Troy. But then Abed can’t find the proper words for these emotions, this huge, unbearable feeling in his chest. Because he knows that if he tells Troy that he’s in love with him, Troy will most likely freak out. It only makes sense. He’s probably okay with this whole thing given that it’s unspoken and unofficial; that makes it hold less meaning. If they don’t address it, then Troy can avoid a sexuality crisis, the overbearing fear of forming a commitment, the responsibility of admitting to your own feelings. And Abed really doesn’t blame him.
Abed is a hard person to commit to. He’s always been aware of this fact. His own parents both opted out, and that should say something. No one’s ever stuck it out with him as long as Troy has. As he stares at the ceiling now, Abed hates himself for not being able to just be okay with this. Why does he need more? Why can’t he just accept that what he’s already getting from Troy is rare, and he’s lucky, and he should be grateful? Why does he want more?
When he’s done overthinking, he falls asleep with his head spinning, headache growing behind his eyes, listening to Troy’s even breathing next to him.
•
When they do finally have sex, it’s in the quiet morning of their apartment, on the weekend.
Annie is out, visiting her brother, and the sun falls through a crack in the window. Abed wakes up next to Troy, blinking. His face is still relaxed, half asleep. Before he can even think, Abed feels himself leaning in, kissing his cheek. Troy’s smile stretches across his face as he awakens.
“Hi,” he croaks out.
“Hello Troy,” Abed says.
Troy flips, hovering over Abed’s chest, his arms leaning on either side of his body. He starts patting his hair, gentle strokes enchanting Abed as he stares at Troy’s face, the light from outside illuminating him.
“What should we do today?” he asks.
Abed blinks. “This is nice,” he says, regarding the hair-patting.
“I can’t do this all day,” Troy says, like he’s actually kind of disappointed that he can’t.
“Then I guess we can watch a movie,” Abed smiles.
“Hmm,” Troy hums, but he makes no move to get up at all. He keeps stroking Abed’s hair, then his cheek, the side of his jaw.
“There’s also other things we can do,” he suggests now, in a soft voice.
“Yes, that’s true,” Abed says flatly.
Troy leans down and catches his lips. He starts off slow, and Abed feels content having Troy kiss him as he lies with his back against the mattress. Quickly though, things become more heated, and Troy takes place on top of him, hands on either side of Abed’s face.
It doesn’t take long for Abed to grow hard. Same thing goes for Troy. And Abed is not about to let him wait, so he grabs him by the waist and flips him over, so Troy’s back is pressed against the mattress.
“Oh,” he breathes, looking dazed. Abed smirks.
“What do you want me to do?” he asks lowly.
Troy swallows deeply.
“Anything,” he says, which is the most inscrutable answer ever, and Abed would really like it if he were more clear. He takes it for now though, and slowly peels off Troy’s pajama bottoms.
He starts kissing Troy where his hips dip, then over his underwear. Troy buries his fingers in his hair, sighs audibly.
“You’re so good to me,” he breathes. This is something he tells Abed fairly often and it never fails to make Abed feel weak, and also like he should tell Troy more often that he deserves only the best, and should never accept any worse than that.
Abed pulls himself up, hovers over Troy to kiss him on the mouth, and then he leans down to his ear.
“Do you want me to give you a blowjob?” he whispers, clearing up the intent of this particular sexual encounter. Troy takes a second, then slowly shakes his head.
“Hand job?” Abed asks, frowning, confused.
Troy shakes his head again. Now, it’s him who sits up, only slightly, to get close to Abed’s ear. Then he whispers; “Want more.”
Abed stills at that. He mulls over these words about a million times in his brain before gathering the courage to respond.
“Tell me what exactly,” he croaks out. He feels like he’s dreaming.
“Want you inside. Please Abed,” Troy whispers, falling back down. His eyes are so dark with desire. Abed thinks he might pass out.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Troy nods fervently.
“Is this…the first time for you?”
Troy blushes deeply at this question. Then he nods.
“But I’ve used…you know. My fingers and stuff”
Oh. That’s cool. Troy did mention liking butt-stuff. Abed feels very lightheaded suddenly.
“Okay,” he breathes.
He’s going to have sex with Troy. He’s imagined this moment so often in his brain that it feels kind of unreal actually living it. Abed’s had sex with a handful of guys, but it almost feels like this is the first time he’s ever doing this with how loud his heart is beating in his chest. He takes a deep breath.
“I’m going to stretch you out,” he tells Troy, “okay?”
Troy nods. “Yes,” he says, stifling a smile.
“Please tell me if it hurts. Or if you want me to stop, for any reason whatsoever. You have to tell me, Troy.”
He nods again. “I will. Don’t worry, I will,” he reassures Abed in that sweet, soft voice of his.
“Okay.”
Abed gets up now, quickly, and crosses the room to get to the drawer that contains lube and condoms. He takes both of the items and makes his way over back to bed as fast as he can.
He slicks his fingers with lube and leans in, kisses Troy again, before sliding his hand down, over his thighs, and then pressing against his entrance. He inserts one finger, slowly, holding Troy’s gaze through it. Troy’s eyes quite literally widen at the sensation, and he rolls his head back against the mattress.
“Fuck,” he curses, and he never curses, so Abed frowns.
“Is it painful?” he asks.
“No,” Troy shakes his head, “it just feels really good.”
Still, Abed moves slowly, so Troy doesn’t get hurt. He looks so blissful, his eyelids halfway shut, his mouth slightly slack.
“Can you-” he groans through his teeth, cutting himself off. Abed cocks his head to the side.
“Use your words please,” he requests, needing clarification. Troy nods.
“You can do more,” he half-heartedly explains, through heavy breathing.
Abed follows up on that, slides in his middle finger, and picks up the pace a little. Troy writhes under his touch, impatient and so loud. Abed can’t handle how incredibly hot he is. His brain might explode at some point during this.
“More Abed,” Troy whines after a little, “please, please, please.”
Abed leans in to kiss the words out of his mouth. God, he wishes he could have Troy like this forever. He’s so beautiful. If only he could find a way to tell him without immediately overthinking it.
“Okay,” he complies.
He slides in a third finger, starts rocking a little faster. Troy lifts his legs higher, Abed assumes to feel it hit him even deeper. He sighs with breathy moans.
“Please Abed, please, please, I need you inside of me, please,” he chimes, begging for it.
“You really want it that badly?” Abed breathes, amazed by Troy's desperation.
Troy grabs at his jaw, pulls him down.
“So badly. I need it Abed. I want you. You’re so good to me, I want you to- to put yourself to good use. You’re so good at making me feel good, it would just be a waste if you wouldn’t. Please give it to me,” he rattles, words stringing together.
Abed’s eyes roll all the way back, and he breathes in deeply. He nearly loses focus, but manages to keep up his continued pace as he fingers Troy loose. Abed can’t believe how purposeful Troy manages to make him feel, like he exists purely to make him feel good, and he’s completely okay with it.
“Okay Troy,” he whispers, and he pulls back, retracting his fingers slowly. Troy whimpers under his breath. “How about you undress? All the way I mean?”
Troy is still in his shirt, but takes it off quickly at Abed’s order. “That’s good,” Abed smiles.
He breaks the condom packet now, tugs down his own pants and kicks them off. Then he rolls the rubber over his length. Troy is unabashedly watching him, staring with wide eyes as he leans back against the headboard of their bed.
“Are you okay?” Abed asks.
Troy pulls him forward to kiss him.
“I’m so okay,” he says with a bright smile. He’s beautiful, Abed thinks again. He can’t believe he’s lucky enough to get to do this with Troy. He realizes then, that he should tell Troy that. He should be brave. Troy tells him all kinds of things too, baring his soul for him, purely for his enjoyment, so Abed should take a chance on this.
“You’re really beautiful,” he whispers. At his words, Troy looks like he might cry. He kisses Abed again, so light and sweet, movements laced with innocence like Abed’s not about to fuck him.
“You too,” he says, soft eyes, fingers stroking Abed’s hair.
“You sure you want this?” Abed asks now.
“Yes. I’m so sure.”
“Okay. I’m going to go slow.”
Abed leans over him, arms on either side of his shoulder, and presses against his entrance. It takes a while for him to get in, but when he is, he holds still for a moment, catching Troy’s gaze. He looks intoxicated, eyes darker than ever. Abed’s about to ask him if he’s okay again, but Troy digs his fingers in his hair, gives a sharp tug.
“Please move,” he requests. Abed nods.
He starts slowly. Once he’s picked up a steady rhythm, he feels a little like he’s floating. The combination of Troy’s whimpers, the sight of him beneath Abed, all messy and desperate, the rough grip he has on his hair, the feeling of tightness around Abed’s dick, it’s so much.
“Abed, Abed, Abed. This feels so good, please keep going. Keep going,” Troy groans.
Abed listens to him immediately. And Troy clearly knows how much he loves hearing him talk, keeps it going.
“I’ve wanted this for so long. Want to do everything with you. You’re so good to me, so good. Keep going Abed, just like that, keep going. This feels amazing.”
Abed feels a knot in his stomach, like he might just fall over the edge, and he bites down.
“Troy,” he groans through his teeth.
“Yeah?”
“I’m not going to last long like this,” he admits.
Troy nods, pulls him closer.
“Pick up the pace a little,” he whispers against the shell of Abed’s ear. And Abed nods, breathes in deeply. He picks himself up, grabs Troy by the hips instead, starts moving faster.
Troy whines with the rhythm. “Feel so good. So good . You make me feel so good. You’re so good to me. You’re the only person who makes me feel like this. I love you. Love you so much, Abed.”
At that, Abed feels a shiver run all the way down his spine, and his brain floods with a feeling he’s never felt before, so ablaze with pleasure, with love, with validation, that he lets go. He bites down on his bottom lip, leans against Troy’s chest, and shudders through his orgasm. Troy strokes his hair all the way through it, rubbing his back. When he’s done, Abed pulls himself up, frowning.
“I’m really sorry,” he says, out of breath. He knows sex can easily push him over the edge like nothing else, but he usually always fights to make sure the other person feels that pleasure first, or at least at the same time. This time, it wasn’t so easy. Again, the Troy effect. It’s just that he indulges Abed so much in what he likes, talking to him the whole way through, and Abed’s never been catered to like that during sex.
“What do you mean? That was so awesome,” Troy says, looking genuinely happy, and pulling him closer. Abed frowns again, pressed against the crook of Troy’s shoulder.
“You didn’t come yet,” he says.
“Use your mouth,” Troy gently suggests, smiling.
“Okay,” Abed nods.
He slowly pulls out, and Troy whimpers at the loss, the sudden emptiness. His dick is slick with pre-cum, appearing painfully hard, so Abed leans down, sucks it up, then takes the entirety of him into his mouth. He gets right into it, figures Troy doesn’t need much of a build-up. Troy doesn’t exactly hold back either, bucking into his mouth, effectively fucking into him, which is so hot, and if Abed hadn’t come yet that would definitely send him over the edge. But he feels lazily blissful now, and hollows out his cheeks for Troy so he can get in deeper. He decides to look up, hold eye-contact because he knows Troy likes it. Indeed, Troy breathes; “Drives me crazy when you look at me like that.”
Abed keeps going, and Troy lets out a high-strained moan. “Gonna come. Right down your throat. That’s okay, right?” he spills, “I know it is, because you’d let me do anything to make me feel good. You’re the best, Abed. You’re so good. Holy shit, I’m gonna come.”
And he does, and Abed swallows it all down as he feels it shooting down his throat because Troy is right, he would do anything for him. He loves him so much, it feels unbearable.
And Troy loves him too, he’d even told him earlier. Just not in the right way, Abed’s sure of that. But still, he takes the words, cherishes them in his heart, hears them echo in his brain like a beguiling melody. It’s fine for now. He’ll take what he can get.
He pulls back, wipes his mouth, and barely gets a second to breathe because Troy is kissing him. Abed links his arms around him, moves him over so Troy’s straddling him. Their kiss quickly dissolves into a hug, and they sit in silence for a long time, holding each other close, breathing in sync.
Abed feels strange suddenly, thinking again about all the things Troy told him during sex. He knows they’re just words, most of them probably an exaggeration. Troy is just good at dirty talk. It doesn’t really mean anything, even though Abed wishes it did.
“You okay?” Troy hums against his shoulder. Abed nods.
“Did you enjoy that?” he asks Troy, too shy to look at him. But Troy pulls back, faces him and laughs, slightly off-guard.
“You couldn’t tell?”
Abed shakes his head. “No, I could.”
“It was insanely awesome,” Troy says with a huge grin.
Abed nods silently. He falls forward into Troy's arms again. He wishes he could talk to him. He wishes he could just be honest. He almost wishes he never fell in love at all, but then quickly realizes that he wouldn’t miss getting to have Troy like this for the world, no matter how much it hurts.
“Are you really okay?” Troy repeats.
“I am,” Abed says flatly.
Troy smiles, small and unsure. “Wanna watch that movie now?”
And Abed knows nothing but to seek comfort with Troy, so even now, when he feels like he might just burst out crying, like his brain is spinning, like he’s hopeless, he nods.
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
•
But he’s not really okay.
As the days pass, he turns away from Troy whenever he goes in to kiss Abed, and he sleeps in his own bed, and he drops Troy's hand under the table during study meetings because he’s slowly starting to realize that he might never get over this if they keep up what they’re doing. He knows it’s unfair to Troy, but he figures it might be for the better. If he explains to Troy, tells him about his feelings, it’ll most definitely rapture them. Abed will be heartbroken, unable to recover, and Troy will have to deal with the fallout. It would be unfair. They’ll just have to be awkward for a while, and then they can move on.
That night, Abed sits at the kitchen table, trying to read the novelization of The Chronicles of Riddick to stop his mind from racing. He’d been in the top bunk, tossing and turning for hours before getting up, while Troy had been sleeping deeply underneath him. Abed looks up from his book when Annie suddenly steps in.
“What are you doing?” she asks, rubbing her eyes. She’s in her pajamas, hair all messy.
“What's up?” Abed asks nonchalantly, like nothing’s out of the ordinary at all.
“Why aren’t you in the fort?”
He puts his book upside down on the table, sighing. “I can’t sleep,” he says.
Annie takes out a chair and joins him, resting her chin on her hands.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Abed watches her carefully. She’s talking in a tone that indicates she knows something’s wrong, and Abed doesn’t like it. He knows he and Troy haven’t been exactly subtle in the fact that something is different between them, but still.
“I just can’t sleep. Nothing to talk about,” he shrugs.
Annie rolls her eyes. “Are you sure Abed?”
For a long time, he says nothing. He stares out in front of him, wondering if Annie would understand if he’d explain the whole thing starting from the beginning. It seems like he himself doesn’t even understand anymore.
“Come talk with me in my room for a little, okay?” Annie says now, patting his wrist. And Abed just gives in because if not Troy, maybe he should tell at least someone about his feelings. He sits on Annie’s bed, and she shuts the door.
“This is about Troy, right?” she says, sitting down across from him, “I’m not stupid. I know something is going on with you guys.”
“I’m in love with Troy,” Abed says bluntly.
“You can tell me if there’s- oh, wait, I didn’t expect that. But oh my god, that’s great! I thought you guys were just fighting or something,” Annie says with a huge smile.
Abed breathes in. It feels actually relieving to have spoken the words out loud, to know they’re his reality.
“We’re not. I’m just making stuff difficult because I love him and I don’t know how to tell him because I don’t want to lose him but I also can’t keep doing what we’re doing without feeling incredibly guilty and like I’m taking advantage of him,” he explains.
“What do you mean ‘doing what you’re doing’?” Annie inquires.
Abed shrugs. “We make out with each other. And do other stuff. And we had sex last week.”
“Wait- what?!”
“Yes.”
Annie’s expression is blown wide. “Okay, I definitely didn’t expect that, but I have to say, that does make sense. Also, I think Jeff is going to lose a bet with Britta.”
“People bet on us?” Abed rolls his eyes. “That’s been overdone to death. They do that all the time in sitcoms.”
“Abed, focus. How long have you been…making out. And doing other stuff?” Annie asks now.
“Pretty much since your housewarming party. That’s when we first kissed.”
“That was like half a year ago.”
“Yeah.”
Abed is quiet for a while, comprehending how long it’s been since this whole thing between him and Troy started. It kind of just feels like they’ve been like this forever.
“And now you’re freaking out because you guys had sex, but you love Troy?”
“Finally, you’re caught up.”
Annie scoffs. “Well, excuse me for not being up-to-date on the romantic comedy that is you and Troy’s life!”
Abed shakes his head. “It’s not a romantic comedy. Troy doesn’t like me. It’s more like a tragic unrequited-love tale by some low-budget indie filmmaker,” he says, pointing his finger.
“Abed, don’t be ridiculous,” Annie says.
“What? You didn’t even know about our predicament, but now you’re claiming Troy reciprocates my feelings?”
“Yeah, because this new information puts everything into context! Everyone already thought you two are in love with each other. Now, that suspicion is just confirmed.”
Abed tries desperately to ignore the information that everyone close to him and Troy thought they were in love. That’s just his friends’ delusions, not the truth, and Abed shouldn’t cling onto it for false hope.
“Troy doesn’t love me,” he says, “If he did, he wouldn’t casually tell me. I barely ever tell him I love him because I’m afraid that when I do, he’s going to know how much differently I mean it. So, if he felt the same, he wouldn’t just outright tell me all the time.”
What he’s saying makes sense because Abed has held off on telling Troy he loves him apart from that one time he did. Because back then, he didn’t know what it meant yet. He didn’t know just how deeply he felt it.
“Abed,” Annie says, crossing her arms.
“What?”
“Are you listening to yourself speak right now?” she exclaims, exasperated.
“Yes Annie, I’m making sense,” Abed insists.
“Do you think normal best friends tell each other they love each other all the time?”
Abed holds silent for a moment. “...Yes?” he says then, but he can’t exactly claim he truly believes it himself.
“No!”
“Well, we’re close. Much closer than most best friends.”
“Yeah, I’d say so,” Annie says, deadpan.
Abed folds his legs, fidgets with the buttons on his pajama shirt.
“I guess I was okay with him telling me he loved me until he did it during sex,” he admits, “That kind of freaked me out, because it made me realize that no matter how close we get, he’s still just going to see me as his best friend.”
It feels good admitting to all this, though his comfort at letting out his bottled-up feelings is short-lived when he’s faced with Annie, staring at him with her mouth agape like he just said something out-of-bounds crazy.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she exclaims loudly. Abed shushes her.
“What?” he whisper-yells.
“He told you he loved you during sex?”
“Yes?”
Annie says nothing for a long time, just pointedly stares at Abed. And Abed tries to comprehend her outrage, tries to listen to how his own words sound, how he’d react to them were he an outside party. And then he realizes how utterly ludicrous he sounds.
“Okay, yeah, I hear you,” he says dryly.
Annie smiles in consolation, pats his shoulder. “You have to tell Troy,”
“Right.”
“It’s going to be okay.”
“Yes.”
And Abed knows what he has to do.
•
That morning, he gets up before his alarm, when it’s still dark out, and he gets ready. When he’s all done, he sits down at the edge of Troy’s bed, quietly, and waits for the sun to rise. He gently shakes him awake once daylight falls through the window.
“Hello Troy,” he says, trying his best to appear steady and secure.
“Hi?” Troy says with a croaky voice. He blinks a few times, stretches out, and sits up. He cocks his head to the side, confused.
“What are you doing here? Why are you dressed?”
“I need to tell you something and I didn’t want to wake you up last night after I had an epiphany because you were sleeping but I couldn’t wait any longer,” Abed explains.
Troy blinks slowly. “...Okay,” he says, looking slightly disconcerted.
“Look Troy. I know I’ve been kind of a jerk these past days. But I’ve been doing all those things for a reason. I understand if you’re mad, but please just hear me out for a minute or two. I would really appreciate it,” Abed speaks, turning towards him. He raises his eyebrows to ask for confirmation, to keep going and explain. Troy takes a deep breath.
“Okay,” he says again, with soft, unsure eyes.
Abed clears his throat. “I was raised with religion, but I never really strongly believed in all that stuff. My dad always spoke of fate, and how my mother was his other half. He told me all the time, weirdly enough especially after the divorce. And then I watched so many movies in which people loved each other so much they would do anything for them. They talked about soulmates, and destiny, and things like that. Titanic, Somewhere In Time, Romeo and Juliet, all of those,” he starts. Troy is hanging onto his every word, his gaze open and assuring as it always is, and Abed wants so badly to kiss him, to tell him it’s all okay, but he has to get through this first.
“I kind of hated those movies because I knew deep in my heart that I would never have that,” he continues, “I’d never felt that deep understanding from someone, only dismissal, and loneliness, and it made me upset to think I’d have to change myself one day, to get that love story. But now I like watching those movies. I watch them and, most of the time, get reminded of what we have, and then almost all the time, I think about how much better what he have is.”
He takes a deep breath, refuses to look away from Troy. “I guess what I want to tell you is that, whether it was a chance encounter or destiny, whether it was fate or the plot of a romance movie, or nothing like that, I’m privileged I get to have you. And I love you more than anything. I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone else like this, ever. And I know that’s a lot, and it’s a heavy burden to carry. I know I’m not easy to love, and I don’t know if you do, or don’t, but that doesn’t really matter. You deserve to know that I love you.”
Troy stares at him for a moment, his eyes wide and his expression paralyzed, like he’s frozen in time. Abed lets him be for a little because he knows Troy sometimes needs a while to properly process the magnitude of his emotions. His face changes now, scrunches up, and then he’s furiously rubbing his eyes, curling in on himself.
“What the hell, man?” he murmurs.
Abed immediately shoots forward, his hands coming up on either side of Troy, holding him by the shoulders. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs worriedly.
Troy looks up, his cheeks wet from tears, and his brows stuck in a frown. “That was beautiful, what the hell,” he says in the smallest voice. Then he keeps crying softly, wiping at his eyes, and Abed wants desperately for him to look up, to say anything indicating how he feels about him, and not cry anymore.
“Troy?” he speaks, aiming for his attention.
Troy perks up in an instant then, kisses him straight on the mouth, his fingers grasping at anything, anything to pull him closer.
“How could you even think I don’t love you back?” he heaves against his lips.
“I don’t know,” Abed breathes, as he kisses Troy, deeper. The other boy pulls back again, leans his head in the crook of Abed’s shoulder.
“I told you a million times already,” he smiles.
“I wasn’t sure how you meant it,” Abed admits.
Troy chuckles. “I told you I love you during sex.”
“Yeah, I guess that should have made it clear to me. Annie said that too.”
“You told Annie?”
Abed catches his eyes again, raises his eyebrows in questioning. “Yeah…is that okay?”
“That’s completely okay,” Troy smiles.
Abed envelops him in a hug now. He feels like he’s floating, his body so light with all the warmth and safety Troy provides for him.
“I’m sorry I took so long to understand,” he murmurs.
Troy shakes his head. “No, I should have been more clear. I was afraid to bring it up. I thought I’d lose you.”
“That will never happen.”
“Okay. Same for me.”
And Abed actually believes it when Troy tells him. He can’t find a single reason, not in a million Dreamatorium simulations, why he would ever leave Troy, and from all the data he’s been provided with, Troy clearly feels the same way. In every single scenario, every timeline, they’re together. Not a universe where they're not.
Abed holds him at arm’s length now. “Would you like to be my boyfriend Troy?” he asks, voice surprisingly steady for how nervous he feels.
“Uh, yes? Absolutely,” Troy grins.
“Cool,” Abed smiles, “cool, cool, cool.”
And then his boyfriend kisses him again.
•
“We have an announcement” Troy says, later that day, during the study meeting.
“We are…dating” Abed declares, leaving a pause for dramatic effect.
They hold up their intertwined hands as evidence. Everyone stares at them with a blank expression. For a minute, there’s silence. Then, Jeff shrugs.
“We know,” he says, smiling.
“We pretty much all knew that, yeah,” Britta chimes in.
“Annie told us,” Jeff adds, pointing to Annie.
“Oh,” Troy says.
Annie’s eyes widen, and she raises her shoulders apologetically. “Sorry,” she squeaks.
“That’s okay Annie,” Abed smiles. He honestly kind of expected that when he confided in her.
“Surprise?” Troy weakly exclaims, with an awkward smile and jazz-hands. Abed feels his smile grow.
“Again- not much of a surprise, but congrats nerds,” Jeff deadpans.
Britta smiles brightly. “Congrats you guys, that’s great!”
Shirley holds her hands over her heart. “Congrats pumpkins,” she coos.
“You’re breaking your character’s stereotype Shirley. I thought you would go on a long religious rant and stop being friends with us, but this is cool,” Abed says, with a finger point.
Pierce clears his throat. “So Jeff, Britta and you two are gay now? That’s outrageous.”
“There’s that character stereotype you were talking about,” Troy says, leaning closer to him.
Abed nods. “Mhm, yeah. Pierce never disappoints on that front.”
•
Later that day, when they finally get home, when they get to dive in bed together again, hold each other close as boyfriends, Troy whispers against his temple.
“You’re not hard to love,” with that sweet inflection of his, one so familiar Abed could hear it in his dreams, “I’ve never done anything easier.”
•
Everything more or less stays the same.
Abed realized they were pretty much dating anyways, without ever explicitly confirming it. They still kiss in bed, cuddle in the blanket fort, talk about who their favorite DC villain is for hours, role-play in the Dreamatorium, and do other things. The only difference really, is that Abed feels so much lighter, so much more secure. He’s not afraid anymore, because Troy is his boyfriend, and his best friend, and they love each other, and it’s a canon thing, not just something Abed has to entertain in his mind. Besides, they can be closer in public now.
Troy makes full use of this. Today during their study meeting, he links his foot around Abed’s leg under the table, looking at him through his eyelashes. He slowly rubs up and down, his movements laced with electricity. Abed can barely focus during their whole session, and when everyone leaves, and the two of them are left behind, he turns to Troy.
“What are you doing?” he speaks lowly.
“Nothing,” Troy says, an innocent grin pulling at the edges of his mouth.
“Troy,” Abed says pointedly.
Troy shrugs. “I was just thinking about later when we get home.”
That makes sense. Annie has a debate club meeting today, Abed realizes. Cool, cool, cool.
“Oh yeah?” he breathes
“Yeah,” Troy nods.
Abed leans back in his chair, smirking. Once he catches on to Troy’s intentions, he always really enjoys playing into his teasing.
“What- you wanna watch a movie or something? That’s what’s got you all excited?” he asks.
Troy nods. “Hmm-hmm, yeah, that's it.”
They don’t linger any longer than they need to, and once they get home, Abed presses Troy against the front door.
“So what were you really teasing me for?”
“Just wanted you to know I was thinking of you,” Troy smiles.
“In the middle of the study room?” Abed whispers.
“Well, yeah, you’re right next to me,” Troy shrugs, still feigning innocence.
Abed shakes his head. “That’s perverted Troy,” he says, pretending to be disappointed. Troy tugs on the front of his shirt impatiently then, like he was hoping Abed would be the first one to let up their act.
“Can you just kiss me?” he hums.
And well, Abed doesn’t have to be told twice. “Yeah, okay,” he breathes, before leaning in. He kisses Troy hard, pries open his mouth with his tongue and licks along his lips with a desperate hunger. Troy is aching for it too, clearly, grabbing Abed by the shoulders and flipping them around, slamming him into the door. He leans forward, latches his lips onto Abed’s neck and starts kissing him all over.
“Oh,” Abed breathes, melting a little.
“Been wanting you all day,” Troy breathes.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I couldn’t wait to get home. Just want you right now. Please Abed, please.”
Abed grabs the sides of Troy’s face, meets his eye. “Let’s move to the blanket fort,” he says, his gaze dark and determined. Troy’s words have made it so that he’s very very hard in his jeans and feeling impatient.
“Okay.”
They fall onto the bed together and Abed climbs on Troy, legs on either side of him. Troy gets up though, hovering close to his ear.
“How about you lie down?” he suggests, sounding slightly unsure of himself, but mostly confident still.
Abed's brain floods with the overwhelming idea of Troy riding him and he immediately rolls over, lying flat on his back.
“Yes,” he says after the fact.
“Okay, you seem happy about this,” Troy laughs.
“Sorry,” Abed smiles, regarding his eagerness.
“No, that’s cool. That’s really cool,” Troy smiles back, leaning in as he sits on top of Abed. He grinds down, moaning at the sensation, and Abed pulls him in for a kiss again.
Before long, they’re both breathing heavily, steady rhythm established, and Abed feels himself getting antsy.
“Clothes off,” he huffs. Troy nods, following up. Abed does the same thing, frantically pulling off his jeans and shirt.
“Need to prep you first,” Abed whispers, when Troy sits back down. His dick is already leaking, hard against his stomach.
“I’ll do that, you just watch,” Troy says, holding his gaze.
“Oh,” Abed says, leaning down. Cool. He’s going to die.
Troy does as he says, looking at Abed the whole way through as he slowly opens himself up, leaning forward. Abed feels like there’s absolutely zero oxygen in the room, like he might suffocate. Troy is so hot, so agonizingly slow with it, unabashedly fingering himself in front of Abed’s eyes, getting ready for his dick. God, he won’t last a second if he keeps this up.
“You’re going to drive me crazy,” he tells Troy.
“Yeah?” the other boy smiles, not really caring apparently.
“Yeah,” Abed breathes.
Troy sighs, picks up the pace a little. “I gotta take some time with it. So I can take it really well,” he whispers now.
Abed takes in a sharp breath. “Troy, you actually need to stop and sit on my dick right now,” he says, shamelessly direct, feeling faint.
“Okay,” Troy smiles proudly.
Abed grabs wildly for the lube, under the bed. Recently, they’d both gotten tested, even though they had pretty much been exclusively sexual with each other for over half a year now, so they get to indulge in the pleasure of doing it without a condom. Abed squirts some lube onto his dick now, and watches Troy as he sinks down onto him.
“Fuck,” he curses with the sensation, and Abed tries his very best to hold back the noises forming in his throat because this feels so good, he can barely comprehend it.
Troy doesn’t take long to start moving. Now that he’s in control, he’s much less forbearing about the pace. Abed’s hands are on his waist, digging in, and he feels breathless as he watches Troy grind down on him. It feels like he’s stuck in the most awesome dream ever.
“You look really good like this,” he tells Troy, breathless.
“Yeah?” Troy hums, “You like the way I look riding you? You like how I use your dick for my enjoyment? See how good you make me feel?”
“Yes Troy,” Abed says through his teeth, his brain malfunctioning. “Say more things.”
Troy smirks.
“I was thinking about this all day. Couldn’t wait to get you home and ride you. You make me feel so good, I daydream about this all the time. During the whole study meeting today, when I was touching you, I was thinking about you. Just want you to make me feel good the way you do,” he heaves.
“Yeah?” Abed whimpers, out of breath. His head is spinning, stuck on Troy thinking about them in this predicament in public.
“Yeah, you’re so good with me. Don’t ever want anyone else, ever,” Troy whispers.
Abed kisses his neck, pulls him impossibly closer. “I love you,” he says. He feels like he might cry.
“Love you too,” Troy smiles, and he kisses Abed straight on the mouth, slowing down only slightly.
“Keep going,” Abed whispers.
“Fuck, Abed. I’m gonna come soon,” Troy admits, “I can’t keep going much longer.”
But he does impressively well, keeps moving, up and down, again and again.
“That’s- that’s good Troy. Keep it up. Come for me,” Abed heaves.
“Can you touch me?” Troy whispers, small and sweet in between.
“Yeah, yeah, definitely.”
Abed tightly wraps his fingers around Troy’s dick, stroking along with the rhythm the other boy has established. And Troy’s eyes roll back at the touch, and he moans high in his throat, his movements becoming more staggered as Abed goes on.
“Feel so good, your dick inside me and your fingers around me and you. Gonna come Abed, gonna come for you,” Troy whispers, exhausted, face slick with sweat.
Abed nods fervently, feeling like he might not last that long himself.
And then Troy gets there, leaning forward as he spurts cum all over his stomach and Abed’s hand, and his body quite literally deflates after, as he falls down on Abed’s chest and buries his head in the crook of his neck. Abed’s hands come up to his shoulders, holding him closer. Troy is breathing heavily against him, tired out from his orgasm.
“You okay?” Abed whispers.
“Yeah, holy shit,” Troy says, and Abed can feel him smile. It’s weird, but he especially loves how he’s able to make Troy smile after they have sex. For some reason, that makes him feel almost just as warm as everything else.
“Lift a little, I’ll pull out,” Abed tells him now, patting his shoulder.
Troy leans up, cocks his head to the side.
“You can finish,” he tells him. And Abed is so painfully hard, and so desperate for the tightness around his dick, so happily blissful, still inside Troy, that he just nods, starts moving slowly, rocking into Troy on top of him.
“Good job, you deserve to come,” Troy whispers in his ear, moving with the rhythm, “You made me feel so good, so you should be able to come inside. You deserve it. Good job Abed, good job. You can do it.”
Oh. That pretty much instantly does Abed in.
He rolls his head back against the pillow, feeling helpless, and lets the feeling wash over him. Troy is so close, kissing his face, holding him through it. And Abed feels so safe, so warm, so good and so loved with him. Never in his life has he trusted someone as much as he does Troy. He feels on top of the world, like he could do anything as long as he has Troy by his side.
“That was incredible,” Troy says, looking at Abed through his eyelashes. He kisses him on the forehead, then on the cheek, then on the side of his mouth, stroking his hair and smiling softly.
“Yeah, it was,” Abed whispers back.
Troy sits up, getting off of Abed and falling down beside him. They’re both sweaty, naked, breathing heavily. Abed turns to him.
“I love you,” he says now, because Troy should know how grateful he is. And even though he already told him before, the words come easily to him, as they often do these days, like touching Troy, laughing with him, trusting him at his darkest moments, like everything Abed’s learned to do with him over time.
Troy smiles wide, teeth bare. He’s so pretty, so sweet, so unreal. Abed can barely comprehend the fact that he is his boyfriend, his best friend, his person. Troy, the most important person in the whole entire world, is his.
“Love you so much,” he tells Abed, like it takes absolutely nothing out of him to say it, like it’s as easy as breathing.
And Abed smiles too.