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The apartment is surprisingly barren when Abed comes back, still in his paint-splattered suit. It’s true, he’s never won, but somehow this feels more painful – just going home.
He hasn’t even taken his earpiece off when he hears a knock on the door, and he has to swivel, towel held to the paint leaking off his clothes, to answer it. And there he is. Just when Abed had started to heal even a little bit (even if he could never truly do so), imaginary Troy was coming back to taunt him.
He knows Troy’s imaginary because he looks just as young and excited as he did when they played paintball together, wifebeater tight on his chest, smile plastered on his face.
“You’re not real,” Abed informs him immediately. He doesn’t know how Evil Troy got his voice back but all he knows is that Troy is never, never coming back and that this isn’t him. “I know he’s not coming back, you don’t have to be here.”
This version of Troy doesn’t even deign to respond, his lips slightly parted as he looks Abed up and down, and up and down. Then he clears his throat. “Abed, I’m not evil me. Doesn’t he have– like– a collar that he has to wear?”
Abed shrugs good-naturedly, letting imaginary Troy through the door. “I wouldn’t put it past him, I’m sure Evil Abed’s into that.” Troy’s still gaping as he walks through the door, feet heavy on the ground. Abed starts to feel sick. “Who are you and why are you here?” he tries firmly.
Troy fiddles with his hands. “The trip got terminated. We were kidnapped– don’t worry, I’m okay now– and some dude in a suit ended up disputing the terms of Pierce’s will,” he says in a breath, and then his eyes flick up and down again. “And you’re. In a suit. Also.”
“That I am.”
“You look,” Troy starts, and then coughs like he’s trying to clear his head with it. “Abed, you look very good. Always, but. But right now, you look… yeah.”
Abed does not know how to react to this.
Troy’s back. Troy never left on purpose or because Abed hurt him or because something happened.
He’s back. Like he said he’d be.
And he’s now looking at Abed with the most fuck me eyes Abed’s ever witnessed, perhaps in his lifetime of sexual escapades.
His first instinct is to text their group chat and tell everyone to stay out of a mile radius of them but his second instinct is to do what he’s been craving since the first episode Troy appeared in.
He does eenie meenie miney moe until it tells him to go with the second instinct. He shoves Troy against the granite counter, hands gripping his waist, and god that feels so good to do. It’s punctuated with a pleasant noise from Troy, who looks like he’s about to faint.
“You alright?” Abed asks gently, cupping Troy’s cheek and rubbing slow circles in with his thumb. Troy nods vigorously. “Use your words.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Troy rambles, pressing his hands against Abed’s chest, mouth falling open.
He’s pretty like this, a shadowy part of Abed’s mind tells him. He’s looking up under his lashes like he wants to be on his knees, and his mouth is loose and wet even though Abed hasn’t even done so much as kissed him.
“Kiss me,” Troy commands, as if on cue.
So Abed does.
Their lips press together tentatively at first but soon it gets less careful and more aggressive. Abed’s hand slides down Troy’s side, fingers trailing over the soft fabric of his tank top. Troy moans into his mouth. His tongue licks at Abed’s bottom lip, teasing it before Abed bites down hard. Troy gasps, pulling away for a moment, and when he returns he’s grinning wickedly.
“Again,” Troy says simply, tugging Abed by the hips closer to him, “now.”
Abed kisses him slowly, languid, for a few minutes. Troy’s hands are everywhere: down his chest, around his collar, his neck, his lapels, and normally Abed wouldn’t like the excessive contact but this is very, very different than normal circumstances. Then Troy pulls back, eyes sunken.
“Did you miss me?” His smile has disappeared; something’s lingering on his face like a dark cloud, like he’s scared of the answer.
“Don’t do that,” Abed says simply, kissing him again, eyes shut and inhaling the gorgeous smell of Troy’s skin and his perfect breath and him. Abed pulls away a few seconds later, breathing heavily, wiping his wet lips with the back of his hand. “You can’t possibly think I didn’t miss you. Do you know how many pennies I used on wishing you’d come back?”
Troy bites his lip, stares down at Abed’s hands that are planted on the counter, caging him in. “I’m sorry.” Abed doesn’t respond because he doesn’t know how to.
He opts instead to gently take Troy’s chin and tilt it up so they’re making eye contact, and those eyes. “You’re distracted,” Abed remarks, simply an observation.
“You look like a really– really hot douchebag,” Troy attempts to explain as Abed slowly grinds his knee against his crotch, through his jeans. Troy’s eyes are wide, darting down to watch as the black fabric of the slacks works against him. “Like– like a new money, conservative, corporate asshole. And it’s– doing things to me. You’re also doing things to me.”
“I was searching for an espionage feel,” Abed tells him, mouthing up the expanse of Troy’s skin between his chest and his jaw. “That works, too, though.” Troy groans beautifully, bringing a hand up to weave it through the carefully-yet-somehow-effortlessly-styled locks of Abed’s hair.
Abed’s been trying to take a leaf out of Jeff’s book recently. Or since forever. The shirt, the sudden moments of odd and nonsensical rage, and now the accidentally hot hairstyle.
He never had to be like anyone when Troy was here. But Troy is here.
“I like this hair,” Troy says thoughtfully, a little strained when Abed tilts his hips against Troy’s experimentally. “Fuck, Abed. This– can we–”
“Troy,” Abed says very seriously, leaning down to make eye contact with him. “I want to fuck the life out of you. Is that alright with you?”
Troy gasps, just a tiny whimper, and Abed basks in the little responsive noises he makes. His entire brain is flashing, reading imagine how he sounds when you’re inside of him over and over, an overlay on Troy’s gorgeous face. “Yeah, please? Better than yes. Yes in all caps.”
Abed’s grin widens, feeling like his chest might split open. His hand leaves Troy’s cheek and trails across his neck, his nape and his shoulder blade, and he presses himself forward until he can see Troy’s eyes. They’ve never been bigger than they are right now, pupils blown wide and cheeks hot.
“Let’s go to bed,” Abed whispers suggestively.
Troy nods jerkily, and Abed frees him for a moment, then grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the bedroom.
“You took my old room,” Troy observes, marveling at the redecoration.
Abed shoves him until he keels backwards onto the mattress. “Yeah, and Britta lives here now,” he replies, and Troy’s still smiling but he wrinkles his nose a little. “She still doesn’t like Blade or her family, so she’s trying to therapize herself and it’s getting annoying. I don’t know about the family thing, but the Blade predicament is a direct effect of her carnival ex.” He glances down, stopping to notice Troy’s toothy grin, eyes big. “You’re cute. Can I take off your clothes?”
“Yeah,” Troy whispers hungrily, making pleased little noises when Abed lifts his wifebeater over his head. He’s pliant in Abed’s hands (whereas Abed had expected him to be something of a brat), even as Abed peels down his jeans and gives him a look.
“Is this okay?” Abed asks, stroking a finger over his erection, clear and pressed against the fabric of his boxers. Troy nods eagerly, reaching for him, but Abed puts a stop to it, taking his wrist once again. “No. Let me take care of you. Lay down and relax.”
“Okay.” Troy’s grinning when he leans into the pillows, eyes fixed on Abed’s fingers as he pulls down the waistband on Troy’s boxers, shucking them off in one fell swoop.
Abed wraps his head around Troy’s cock, squeezing gently, and Troy moans, eyes shut and head thrown back. He sounds absolutely delicious, and Abed leans down to latch his teeth onto the inside of Troy’s thigh, near the intersection of his legs and his hips. The moan is louder this time, more whiny, more desperate. “Does that feel nice?” Abed asks gently, rubbing his thumb over the head to make Troy choke down a scream.
“Abed, fuck ,” is all Troy says, emphatic and shaky. “Abed, you look so good. Abed.”
The noise almost makes Abed cry out. He strokes a finger gently over the slit and it twitches underneath his touch like Troy’s on the very edge. Abed can’t help but give it another squeeze, knowing Troy needs that friction.
“Oh, baby,” Abed coos as he starts moving again. “Are you close?”
“God, yes,” Troy chokes out, bucking against the intrusion, and Abed can only chuckle in response. “Abed, please, please, please, oh my god–”
“You like how I look, wearing this?” Abed asks casually.
“Yes, Abed, please, I’m gonna— I’m gonna— fuck.”
This is so much more fun than Abed had ever dreamed, watching Troy unravel under his hands, the way he moans and bucks into the touch. He can’t imagine that anyone in the whole world is having an awesomer time than him right now– and then he pulls his hand back. Troy sobs.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Abed chants instantly, splaying a hand over Troy’s chest. “Deep breaths. I’m stopping you so I won’t force you through two orgasms before you have to make yourself presentable again.” Troy musters a look of confusion, which is still as easy to read as he was before. “The girls are coming back sometime soon. Are you okay?”
Troy pants, clinging to Abed’s arms. “Yeah.” Abed’s still fully clothed, sleek suit coat warm and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and he squeezes Troy’s thigh tenderly before he moves to take it off and hang it up.
“You still want me to fuck you?” Abed asks, voice low and a little bit gravelly, his gaze still fixed on Troy’s gorgeous naked body.
He looks like he was sculpted out of clay (by Rich, because he’s an expert sculptor), like he was handcrafted by some higher being or possessed by a force that makes him unreasonably beautiful. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even pull his hands away from where they’re crossed over his head.
“Yes,” Troy says quietly.
“We don’t have to,” Abed assures him, looking at him earnestly. “I will fuck you, I promise you, I would love nothing more, but if you’re not ready yet…”
“Yes!” Troy yells out loud, startling the both of them. “Just. Fuck. Me. Now. Please , oh my god.”
Abed takes the opportunity, climbing onto the bed so their bodies are pressed together and Troy’s thighs are spread with him between. “Tell me what you need. Tell me how you want me.”
Troy doesn’t answer at first. Instead, he runs his tongue along Abed’s throat when it’s close enough in proximity – it makes Abed a man possessed, pressing against him and gently rolling his hips down. “Take me like this. Abed, please, take me like this, in that suit, please. I need you inside of me, please.”
His breathing is rapid and shallow, and Abed strokes a knuckle over his cheek consolingly. “I know you like the suit, baby. I mean, what position?”
Troy’s eyes widen. “Um.”
“Have you never been fucked before, Troy?”
He shakes his head, and Abed’s met with intense brain signals screaming both “be careful” and “this is so fucking attractive”. He’s well aware that he should not be finding this attractive but somehow, some way, he is. He can’t explain it. Abed’s gotten better about not being able to explain things, like why Troy would ever leave him and why he spent a whole day handcuffed to a box in Hickey’s room and why he has a sinking pit in his stomach when he hears a woman that sounds like his mom.
“That makes me your first time being penetrated?” Abed clarifies— snap out of it— and Troy nods again, burying his face in his hands. “Stay on your back, like this, and grab me a pillow."
Troy does what he’s told, and Abed kneels over his hips as he arranges the pillow behind them, propping him up for an optimal angle.
“Now lie down in a way that's comfortable for you. Don’t worry about anything other than what I’m telling you and how you feel, okay, baby?” Troy nods, still gazing absentmindedly at Abed’s button-down and his slacks. His eyes linger on Abed’s tie. He reaches forward and tugs at it, like he wants it off, badly. “Want me to restrain your wrists with this?” Abed asks nonchalantly, and Troy’s eyes get all big again.
“Please,” he mumbles, staring adoringly at the strip of silk material that Abed’s now holding.
Abed strips off the tie and unbuttons his shirt slowly, setting the two items on the nightstand. Then, taking Troy’s wrists in his hand, he ties each wrist loosely to the headboard.
They sit in silence while he works on his wrists, enjoying every deep breath Troy takes, relaxing completely. When he’s done, Troy lets out a soft moan of pleasure and Abed licks his lips.
“Good boy,” Abed praises, kissing Troy softly. “Try pulling.”
Troy gives a haphazard tug and smiles, wrists completely secure. “I’m good, Abed, I’m so– fuck, your abs. Abed, please.”
“Open,” is all Abed says because it’s all he can possibly push out of his lungs seeing Troy like this. Troy’s mouth is loose and open and wet and pretty and Abed slides two fingers into his mouth.
Troy’s good with his mouth, although Abed expected him to be — he’s constantly chewing on things — now he’s licking and sucking like he knows how. Like this isn’t his first time. Abed briefly wonders if Troy may have gotten on his knees for a guy before, because being a virgin doesn’t truly mean you haven’t conducted oral sex either.
Then, Abed considers how Britta said virginity is a social construct (everything is a social construct, though, isn't it?).
Right. Troy.
Troy, who is sucking his fingers, swirling his tongue around them, working them like he’s made for it. Troy who makes little punched out sounds when Abed drives his fingers (a little) back into his throat.
“That’s good,” Abed murmurs, withdrawing his fully soaked fingers. “Is it alright for me to put these inside of you?” Troy’s eyes go as wide as saucers. “Very slowly,” Abed tacks on.
“Yeah,” Troy whispers hoarsely. “Yeah, Abed, yeah, please…”
It’s amazing how he feels so responsive to the ministrations of Abed’s fingertips. Abed watches the flush that spreads across his cheeks, the bright blush on his skin, the flutter of his eyelids, how Troy arches beneath his touch.
“Look at me,” Abed commands quietly, pressing their foreheads together as Troy opens his eyes, blinking over and over. “I’m going to put one finger inside of you. Okay?”
Troy’s panting hard now, nodding like he means it. “Abed, please, please, please.”
Abed presses another kiss to his forehead. “Okay. Just relax for me here.”
With the gentlest touch of his finger, he circles the rim and then fully enters Troy, feeling him gasp and tug against the tie. It’s slow, steady progress, even getting a finger in, and Abed keeps talking to him. “Don’t tense up, it’s hurting you more. Just like that.” He runs a palm up and down Troy’s stomach, hoping it provides some sort of calm. “Talk to me.”
“Feels–” Troy gasps as Abed introduces a second finger and screws his face a little. He looks so good it makes Abed feel bad, in a way. “Feels good, but a little weird. Please– oh my god, move please.”
“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” Abed murmurs soothingly, rubbing small circular motions over the tight muscles in Troy’s abdomen. “I’ve got you, just tell me what you need.”
Troy is good at following orders – if “what he needs” is a bunch of breathy whines and Abed s filling the room. It’s good, though, because Abed is thoroughly enjoying that he has the ability to take Troy apart with just his fingers. After a few minutes of making sure Troy’s comfortable with what’s happening (not too fast, not too slow) he adds one more digit, and he starts to speed up a bit.
And then he tugs against the ties again and nearly sits up. “Abed, please, please, please, please fuck me. Put your cock inside of me and fuck me.”
Abed figures that he should proceed, especially since this is very express permission, and also because his dick feels so hard that he’s convinced it might fall off. He fumbles with the zipper on his pants shakily, and when he finally pulls it out through the hole in his boxers, he groans in relief.
When he looks up, Troy is looking at him with big eyes and he’s straining against the tie (it really did the job), as if he’s trying to approach Abed. So Abed comes to him, sliding his hand blissfully up and down his own cock, just a couple of times.
He lines up, carefully, careful to be slow and gentle and steady and all the things he knows he has to be, and then he pushes in. Little by little, inch by inch. Troy sobs.
“Oh, baby,” Abed murmurs, reaching up to wipe some sweat from Troy’s face.
Troy bites down on Abed’s index finger. “You’re gonna make me lose my mind, please,” he whimpers around it. Abed starts moving his hips a little, shushing Troy by pushing his fingers in further, letting him suck at them again instead of focusing on how bad it hurts. Or how good it feels, Abed has no idea.
He’s thrusting harder now, pushing himself all the way in without hesitation. “Breathe, Troy. Breathe with me. You feel good?” Troy nods against his shoulder and Abed takes that chance to lick the side of his neck before he speaks again. He slams his hips once and Troy moans, eyes rolling back. “Good boy. You’re taking it so well. I’m right here, okay?” Troy sighs in relief, clinging to Abed. “Keep breathing, Troy. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
When Troy’s moans are loud and desperate, Abed takes his thumb and rubs it over the swollen tip of Troy’s dick and he hears a low gasp from Troy as his entire body spasms beneath Abed, shooting out instantly and not without a scream of “fuck, Abed”.
Abed watches in amazement as Troy writhes and shakes, panting heavily against Abed’s neck, still gripping his restrained hands into the silk fabric, and he’s absolutely wrecked. He takes a few shuddery breaths until they’re steady, and Abed manages to pull out a quarter of the way before Troy says “no”.
“Hm?”
“Finish inside of me.”
Abed wants to store the thought of that in a box with all the happy feelings he’s ever felt, that Troy’s willing to keep going just to make Abed happy. “Are you absolutely certain?” Abed whispers.
“I’m sure,” Troy promises, arching up to kiss Abed as hard as he can.
He leans forward, kissing Troy again, and then again, and then he’s thrusting in and out and fucking Troy until his eyes fog up with tears and Troy’s making little noises (“take it all, Abed, come, please, come”). It only lasts a minute, but it feels like an eternity. It feels like forever. Everything goes stark white and Abed feels heat coiling everywhere, pleasantly, though – like a bunch of feel-good things shoved into his stomach.
When he blinks, there’s Troy again, looking up at him wide-eyed and his ass is obscenely covered in Abed’s come – in Abed’s come . “That was hot,” Troy tells him, blinking. He’s still panting like before but it’s coming down, slowly, slowly. He’ll be fine.
“Troy, you look incredible like this,” he says, and Troy ducks his head into his bicep. “How do you feel?”
“Awesome, very cool, and super tired,” Troy responds, grinning. “Can you untie me please? I wanna hold you.”
“Of course.” Abed does, pulling the knot in the fabric, undoing it swiftly. When he gets the tie straightened out and lays Troy’s hands back down, he slips an arm under Troy’s knees and lifts him to sit between his legs, straddling his legs to accommodate him, and sitting against the headboard. “Here, let me clean you up,” Abed murmurs softly, kissing over Troy’s brow.
He reaches for the tissues even though he kind of hates the idea of wiping semen up with them, but he does so anyway, careful not to miss a spot. Troy’s sleepy but he lifts up his legs for him regardless, like he’s trying to help Abed take care of him.
“It’s okay,” is all Abed says, and he presses a kiss to the top of Troy’s head when he’s finished.
Troy breathes evenly under him, pushing back further every one in a while to snuggle his face into Abed’s chest.
And then there’s a click at the door.
“Shit,” Troy says, sitting up instantly. Abed’s relatively decently clothed, so he reaches over and passes Troy his button-down for a little coverage. It’s soaked with sweat but Troy still buries his face into it, just for a second.
Abed runs out of the bedroom and slams the door with a thunk behind him, forcing the most casual smile he can muster. He’s also not wearing a shirt, so.
Annie and Britta walk in, talking, preoccupied with the details of their day, but turn to face Abed when they realize he’s there. Britta’s eyes go big at the sight of him shirtless, so Annie speaks instead. “Abed?” she asks gently. “What’s wrong?”
“Uh—” he hesitates. He could lie, but somehow that would make it less awesome and more weird when Troy emerges wearing his shirt. “I was having sex.”
“And who’s the lucky girl? Tell me everything,” Britta demands, approaching him with a mischievous grin. She’s just as drenched in sweat as Abed was, and so is Annie, who follows closely behind her.
“Not a girl.”
“Oh, fifty bucks!” Annie shouts, and jumps up and down, clapping her hands. She pauses after, almost instantaneously. “Abed, I know you don’t like talking about this,” she starts, wringing her hands.
“You don’t think...” Britta murmurs, making eye contact with her and nodding solemnly. “Did you like Troy, Abed?”
Abed feels a really really strong emotion in his chest and he reminds himself how much he missed that ridiculous smile, the way Troy would lean in door frames and count the stars even if they were just planes.
He’s so pretty.
“Troy,” he says slowly, and Annie and Britta are making sad faces and then he feels his bedroom door open and hands pressed against his back. Troy’s hands. And then their faces change.
“What the fuck,” Britta manages.
Annie’s jaw practically unhinges itself. “Abed, you had sex with him before he even got to see us?”
“Yeah,” Abed says simply. “Is that a problem?”
“ Yes, ” she and Britta say in unison.
He turns around and there he is, Troy. His Troy. “Hi,” Troy says, and he’s wearing Abed’s shirt and a pair of Abed’s boxers and he looks incredible and completely not clothed enough to be around two girls who have been in love with him.
“Hi,” Abed replies, kissing his forehead. “Troy’s a bottom, guys.”
Troy scoffs angrily, but Britta gets a comment in before he can. “Really,” she sighs dryly. “I never would’ve guessed.”
“That’s sarcasm,” Troy whispers, but he sounds a little embarrassed.
“Ew, guys!” Annie shouts, covering her ears. “Britta, let’s get changed and we can make dinner. Troy, I’m hugging you when you’re not covered in— bodily fluids— or whatever.”
“Are you staying?” Britta asks Troy, voice uncharacteristically small. “We missed you. Abed missed you.”
Troy beams. “I’ll never leave you guys again.”
“I’m calling Jeff!” Annie yells from the other room. “Imagine what Jeff would say if I called the Dean too, should I?”
Britta smiles, reels a sweaty Troy in for a hug, and wraps her arms around his neck tight. Abed feels a little pang of jealousy, but a part of him knows that Troy loves him. That Troy’s not gonna leave again.
God, that’s such a good feeling.
“Watch the sunset out the window?” Abed asks him, and Troy rocks into his chest, sighing. Their heartbeats sync up, Abed can hear it.
Troy buries his face into Abed’s bare skin, dropping kisses all over his chest, humming gently. It feels good, like the kisses are going straight to Abed's heart. He feels sick in a really, really nice way, imagining holding Troy and whispering in his ear all night long. “I’d really, really love that. Can I sleep with you tonight?”
“Please do,” Abed whispers, wrapping his arms around Troy’s back.
The light behind them is gold, shimmering, illuminating them in the final moments before dusk. Troy brings a hand up to stroke Abed’s hair over and over, a rhythm that Abed could feel all day and never ever tire of. Their shadow’s cast on the hardwood floor, just two guys muddled into a blob of sweat and Abed’s clothes.
Troy asks the questions, always, and Abed has the answers, but Abed can’t help this feeling. “How is it that you’re just a person, but I love you more than anything in the whole world?”
Troy takes his face out of Abed’s chest and looks up at him, eyes big and gentle and familiar. “I’m really in love with you,” he says quietly, like a confession. As if he didn’t just confess it a million times with his kisses and his cuddles and the way he said Abed’s name.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Abed points out.
“I know.”