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The apartment is dark and quiet. Annie's long since gone to bed, sniffling lightly as she wished Troy a good night's sleep and locked herself in her room. Troy's bags are packed. His alarm for the morning is set. And his arms are currently wrapped around Abed, stubbornly refusing to let him return to his own room.
"Annie's going to kill one or both of us tomorrow if she finds out how late you stayed up," Abed whispers, but his arms tighten around Troy's waist as he speaks.
"You can't leave yet," Troy says, mouth muffled against the soft green flannel of Abed's pajama shirt. He peels his head up just enough so he can see his friend's face before he speaks again. "Remember that stupid pillow fight we had? And how we would have kept going forever if Jeff didn't make us stop?"
Abed nods, face impassive. "Except now this really is the last thing we're ever going to do together, so we really can't stop yet. I know. I feel the same way."
"I mean, I'm going to be back eventually." Troy finds it ridiculous that he's trying to sound reasonable with one leg thrown over one of Abed's, as if he can meld their bodies together by sheer stubbornness. "We'll do this again someday."
"Will we, though? Or will you fall in love with another country so completely that when your trip is over you leave to make that new place your home? Or what if you never finish the journey and decide a seafaring life is the only life for you, and you never step foot on dry land ever again? Or what if you fall in love with someone in some far-off country and then we can't do this anymore because you'll have an actual significant other to do this with and even the most liberal of partners might have an issue with their loved one choosing to cuddle with a college friend over them..."
It dawns on Troy as Abed speaks that significant other is probably the most accurate phrasing he's ever heard to describe what Abed is to him, even if it's usually used in a romantic context, and although he understands the implications of that, he doesn't really want to think about that right now. He props himself up so he can look fully at Abed as he reassures him.
"I really don't know what this trip is going to be like, or how long it's going to take, or what's going to change by the time I get back. I don't think either of us can know any of that stuff right now. All I know is that everything I see around the world is going to mean nothing until I can tell you about it, so don't ever get used to the idea of me not coming back. Every cool thing I do when I'm gone is just another story I can't wait to tell you."
When he finishes, Abed is frowning a little, but it's not a bad frown, necessarily. More of a confused frown, or an I can't believe you really said all of that kind of frown. "Okay," he finally says. "I guess I'm just going to trust that you mean that and you really think you'll come back someday, because friends don't lie. Right?"
"Friends don't lie," Troy whispers back, putting a hand on the back of Abed's neck so he can make sure his friend is focused solely on him. "I mean that, Abed. I'm not going anywhere I can't come home from."
He means to pull away after that and maybe even let Abed return to his own room. He really does. But before he can, he realizes how warm Abed's neck is under his palm, and then he sees how close Abed's face is to his, and how flushed it seems in the darkness. He stares, and Abed's dark, unfathomable eyes stare back. Then, to Troy's sudden shock and pure wonder, Abed leans in to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.
When Troy doesn't pull back or say anything negative, Abed leans in and does it again. Then he moves, pressing his lips to Troy's forehead, his nose, his eyebrow, the corner of his lips. That's the one that pulls Troy out of his trance; before he can stop himself, he kisses Abed full on the mouth.
Abed responds hungrily, gripping Troy's hips tightly and leaning in to deepen the kiss. His lips are warm and insistent against Troy's, and the two of them move together as if choreographed. As if this is just an extension of their handshake: unscripted, effortless, uniquely theirs. Troy is trembling a little as he pulls back to breathe, and he can't help but think that nothing in his life has ever made as much sense to him as kissing Abed.
Still, he has to ask. "Is this, like, a movie scene, or something? Are you doing a bit, or is this -"
"No, it's - it can be whatever you want it to be right now. I don't really care," Abed whispers, eyes flittering over Troy's face. "Do you want me to stop?"
"Hell no," Troy breathes, surging forward to capture Abed's lips in another heated kiss. He rolls them so that he's hovering above, supporting his weight on one hand and using the other to trace up and down Abed's side. His hips are bony, but he's warm, and as Troy sneaks his hand under his pajama top, he can feel how soft the skin is underneath. His head is swimming and he should probably slow down, but Abed's hands are digging into his own waist and there's really nothing more to be said about that, for now.
Eventually part of Troy's brain comes alive long enough to point out to him that they can probably get away with this, if they want to. What they're doing doesn't need to go beyond where they're at right now, and they can just chalk it up to another one of their eccentricities, just another Troy-and-Abed thing. Of course they'd spend their last night together kissing, as it's really only the next step beyond hugging, and they're already so much more each other than they are themselves that sometimes hugging just doesn't seem to be enough to convey what they really feel.
It doesn't have to be weird. Even the rest of the study group would probably understand, in some strange way, if they ever found out: Well, it's not how I'd say goodbye to my best friend, but it's Troy-and-Abed, you know? They can leave things as they are without crossing any lines.
But when Troy pulls back from the kiss to say as much, he catches sight of Abed, the quick rise and fall of his chest, his parted lips, the way his eyes are locked on Troy's face like he's trying to memorize him. And just like that Troy can't believe he's here, that Abed is right there underneath him, and that this is the last time he's even going to see Abed for a long, long time, let alone touch him, if he can ever touch him like this again, and that's when Troy thinks, Fuck it.
"I really want to take your shirt off," he whispers. "Is that okay?"
When he sees Abed nod, he scrambles to undo the buttons before pushing the shirt off his shoulders and tossing it aside. He's seen Abed shirtless - even naked - a thousand times, but it's so obviously different tonight that he suddenly feels shy about looking at his friend this way. There's so much to take in, though, from Abed's smooth skin to his toned arms to his inexplicable but undeniable six-pack. He's got no right to look as good as he does, on display in Troy's bed like this, and the craziest part is he seems entirely indifferent to the effect he has on people - or at least on Troy.
So Troy gives himself a shameless moment to stare before peeling his own T-shirt off and pressing their chests together. He swallows a groan at the contact, how good it feels to be skin-on-skin like this after years of pining and fully clothed cuddling and desperate desires that always seemed impossible to Troy. He doesn't know if all of this is strictly a result of him leaving, or an inevitable season finale of sorts, but right now he can't bring himself to care.
He kisses down Abed's neck to his collarbone, biting there lightly before working his way down toward his sternum. Abed fidgets underneath him, his hands hovering just over Troy's back, like he's suddenly not sure if he's allowed to touch.
"Is this okay?" Troy whispers, and Abed nods. Troy moves his kisses across Abed's chest. "Still okay?"
"I promise you everything you are doing right now is way more than okay, and I'll let you know immediately in the unlikely event of you doing anything that's not okay."
"How about this?" Troy mouths at Abed's nipple, sucking it lightly, and Abed moans softly, digging his hands into Troy's shoulders.
"That, yeah, that was much more than okay, you can keep doing that if you want to."
So Troy grins and does it again, then again, then mouths his way across Abed's chest and does it again to the other side, and after a while Troy realizes he can feel Abed's boner against his thigh through their pajama pants, and wow. Abed is hard, and Troy did that, and the realization that Abed is as into this as Troy is nearly knocks him sideways. He pulls back to stare at his friend for a moment, the way Abed's head is thrown back, his eyes shut and breath coming fast, the long, exposed line of his neck, and fuck, it's all too beautiful. Troy swallows and tries to get his head straight.
"Abed," he finally begins, "can I-"
"Yes."
"I didn't finish-"
"Troy, whatever you're going to ask, the answer is yes, you can do anything you want right now, I don't care, just don't-" Abed sits up on his elbows, eyes now open and searching Troy's face, beseeching, before he shakes his head. "I just don't want this to end yet."
Troy ducks his head and places a kiss to Abed's hipbone just for the excuse to hide his face, because he's not sure what kind of expression he's making right now, but it's probably pretty embarrassing. "Yeah, okay," he chokes out. "Me neither."
He feels Abed's hand brush against his face softly, and he dares to look back up. Abed's smiling at him so, so gently that it breaks Troy's heart a little. "But you don't have to do anything you don't want to do," he whispers. "I'm not - this doesn't have to be anything that's not -"
"Shut up," Troy murmurs against Abed's abs, smiling at the soft laugh Abed huffs out above him. Troy keeps planting light, almost-ticklish kisses against Abed's stomach, inching closer to where Abed really wants him to be until Troy finally musters the confidence to pull down Abed's pants and boxers and take him into his mouth.
"Oh fuck, Troy," Abed gasps immediately, and something about how broken he sounds sends a bolt of sharp heat straight to Troy's stomach and then immediately down to his groin. He made Abed swear like that, he is the one making Abed feel so good right now that he's panting above Troy, raking one hand through his own hair like he can barely stand how incredible it all feels.
And Abed feels good in Troy's mouth. Troy never really spent much time thinking about logistics of a blowjob - at least not from the giving end - and he's kind of shocked to find out how much he likes it, how weirdly intimate it feels and how much it strokes his ego to know he might be pretty good at it. It's unbearably hot and also somehow strangely sweet to have a frankly unnerving amount of power over Abed at the moment, and all he wants to do with it is make Abed feel good, to keep coaxing out the deep groans and high gasps that fall out of his mouth as he comes apart on Troy's bed.
Troy can't figure out why he hasn't spent the last four years with his mouth on Abed if it means he's missed four years of the sounds he's making now.
He's not as loud as Troy is in bed, volume-wise, but he's so responsive, his breathing picking up to let Troy know when he's doing something right and the muscles of his thighs tensing when Troy reaches up to add his hands to the mix. His groans are low, raspy, like someone's pulled them right from the deepest cavity of his chest. And every now and then he curses in a way that makes Troy feel like he's swallowed fire, or something, every time Abed groans out fuck or oh, shit or, best of all, oh fuck, Troy, yes, fuck, Troy, please.
There's something dizzying about seeing Abed, always so stoic and composed, come completely undone, and knowing he's the cause.
Wave after wave of arousal crashes over Troy with every gasp and whimper Abed lets out until Troy thinks he could come just like this, totally untouched, with his best friend in his mouth and trembling under him. But before it all gets too much, Abed's hands are grabbing at Troy's shoulder and pushing him back. Troy sits up on his heels and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, struggling to make his eyes focus on the scene in front of him. "Did I do something wrong?"
Abed laughs shakily, running a hand through his disheveled hair, and Troy realizes then how entirely wrecked he looks, flushed so prettily from his cheekbones all the way down to his chest. "No, you did the opposite of wrong. You did everything so stupidly right I don't think I can even think right now. Fuck, Troy. I mean, wow. How did you learn to do all that?"
"Uh, trial by fire, I guess," Troy mumbles, lightly tracing his hands up and down Abed's thighs. "You made me stop, though..."
Abed puts a hand over his face, and Troy doesn't think it's because he's embarrassed, but he can't really tell. "It just felt too good. It was...a lot. Not in a bad way. In a really, really good way. Like I kind of never wanted you to stop doing that. But if I didn't stop you then, you were going to end up having to stop pretty soon, anyway, because I wasn't going to last much longer and I-" He cuts himself off and swallows before lowering his hand to really look at Troy. "I know you have to sleep at some point, and I know nothing that happens tonight is going to stop you from leaving tomorrow. But I want to keep it from being tomorrow for as long as possible. If you're okay with that."
Troy stares at his friend, fighting between the raging boner between his legs and the all-consuming grief threatening to sweep him out to sea if he thinks about it for too long. He doesn't know what he wants right now - or, he wants too much, all at once. He wants to kiss Abed again, and he wants to hug him, he wants to bury his face in his neck, he wants to cry into his pajama shirt, he wants to touch every inch of his bare skin, he wants Abed to hold him under a blanket and tell him it's going to be okay, he wants Abed to fuck him, he wants Abed to cry with him, he wants to fall asleep in Abed's arms, he wants to shove Abed into a suitcase and sneak him across the ocean with him tomorrow, and he wants to split the universe into infinite timelines so he can do all of this at once and maybe never have to stop doing any of it.
But he's taken too long to answer, and Abed is now watching him with concerned Bambi eyes, and Troy might actually shatter if Abed says anything that sounds close to pity, so he stands up to yank down his own boxers and pajama pants before straddling Abed's lap and pulling him into a searing kiss that he hopes conveys everything he can't seem to say right now.
The way Abed's arms immediately snake around Troy's back, dragging him impossibly close, seems to prove that Abed understands everything he's not-saying perfectly.
After a few heady minutes of blissfully making out with his best friend, Troy's boner officially wins out over his grief, and he starts to slowly grind his hips against Abed, who gasps again. He ducks his head down to nip at Troy's neck, sucking just below his jaw. "Everything you do feels so good," he whispers, and Troy's responding moan even catches himself off guard.
"Uh, sorry, I don't know what that was..."
Abed pulls back to stare at Troy, something dark and hungry in his eyes. "That was interesting," he breathes.
He rolls them both over so that Troy is now trapped on his back. Gently, he grabs Troy's wrists and raises them over his head, pinning them to the bed. He rolls his hips slowly against Troy's and then leans down to whisper in his ear again. "Do you like it when I tell you how good you are?"
A lighthearted sort of shame floods Troy as he moans again, loudly, giving Abed all the answer he needs.
"Because it's true," Abed continues, planting hot, wet kisses up and down Troy's neck as he talks. "You're really good at this. Kissing, touching me, all of it. And you make me feel so good. The things you can do with your mouth...I really didn't know you would be so talented."
"Abed," Troy gasps, flexing his fingers. He's dying to reach for his friend and pull him closer, but he's brutally trapped in the most perfectly frustrating way.
"No one's ever made me feel that good, Troy. Just you. Does this feel good for you?"
Troy cries out when Abed rolls his hips again. "Abed, fuck, yes, it feels so good, please don't stop..."
"I won't." True to his word, he grinds into Troy again, leaving him gasping. "I want you to feel good. You deserve to feel so, so good, the way you make me feel. I want to give you whatever you want."
Troy turns his head to press his face into the pillow beneath him, something close to a sob escaping him. "Fuck, Abed."
"You like hearing me say this stuff. You really like being praised. Which is good, because I really like saying it to you. It's all true. You deserve so much, Troy, you deserve to have adventures and you deserve to be happy and you deserve to get anything you want from this life." He lets go of one of Troy's hands so he can brush his thumb over Troy's bottom lip. "And I want to help with that however I can. So I want you to tell me what you want right now. Anything you say, I'll do it."
Every nerve in Troy's body is on fire. He can't tell if Abed really means what he's saying or he can just tell how much it's affecting Troy to hear it, if this is some sort of latent confession or he's just trying to get Troy off. It really doesn't matter. Troy has never been so turned on in his entire life, and he wants whatever Abed's willing to offer at this point.
Abed releases Troy's other wrist, using one hand to brush through Troy's hair as the other wraps around his dick. Troy bites the back of his hand to keep from crying out as Abed begins stroking him almost lazily. He smiles at him fondly.
"Is this what you want, Troy? Does this feel good? Or do you want something else? I want to give you what you want."
Troy moans at that, and it should probably be embarrassing but he's so far gone at this point that he really doesn't care. "Can you - can you go down on me, please?"
Abed's smile grows at that. "I can't believe you just said please. That was really adorable." He kisses Troy on the cheek sweetly before dipping lower, kissing his neck and down, all the way down his chest and stomach. He nips at the soft inside of Troy's thigh, and Troy whines. "Please don't tease me," he whimpers, and suddenly he realizes he's not above begging if it gets Abed to his destination faster.
Abed smirks before licking from the base of Troy's cock all the way up to his tip, tonguing at the precum that's gathered there. Troy laces his fingers through Abed's hair and almost shouts. "Oh my God, Abed."
"You're going to wake Annie if keep that up," Abed whispers, but he's still smiling. "Also, you can pull my hair a little, if you want. You don't have to, but I like it."
Troy gives an experimental tug and smiles at the way Abed exhales sharply before sucking the tip of Troy's dick into his mouth. Fuck. He's gotten blowjobs before, but this is Abed. Abed, who's good at everything he's ever tried and who seems to have made it his personal mission to blow Troy's mind tonight. He takes Troy deep into his mouth, pulls off to suck on the tip, uses his tongue on the underside of Troy's shaft on his way back down, uses one hand to fondle what's not in his mouth and one hand to scratch lightly up the inside of Troy's thigh. Troy can't stop moaning, tugging on Abed's hair and eliciting quiet moans from him in return, creating a feedback loop of pleasure between the two of them. Troy wonders, not for the first time, if Abed can read his mind, because everything he's doing is perfect.
"Abed," Troy pants before long. "Fuck, Abed, I'm really close, I-"
It's all he can manage before he cries out sharply, gripping Abed's hair as he comes into his best friend's mouth. Abed swallows around him and sucks gently as Troy rides out his orgasm until he can't take it anymore and gently pulls him off by the hair. "Fuck," he breathes, staring at Abed, who delicately wipes the corners of his mouth. "Fuck, you're amazing. Come here."
The boys crawl toward each other and meet in the middle, kneeling in the center of Troy's bed. Troy kisses Abed everywhere he can reach, slipping one arm around his waist and using his other hand to grasp his still-hard dick. Abed gasps and loops his arms over Troy's shoulders, pressing his forehead to his neck as Troy jerks him off with long, steady strokes.
It doesn't take long before Abed is groaning Troy's name into the crook of his shoulder and spilling over his hand. Troy presses one last kiss to his temple before rolling out of his bed to grab tissues. Abed lies on his back and watches Troy from the corner of his eye he cleans them up, tosses the dirty tissues into the garbage, and takes his spot beside Abed in bed.
Troy sneaks a glance at his friend. Abed's staring at the ceiling now, silent, but he doesn't seem upset. In fact, he seems entirely content. Before Troy can even speak, he hums softly.
"I really liked that," he says quietly, finally turning to face Troy. Troy swallows and tries to calm the pounding of his heart.
"I liked that so much," he admits, reaching out to lace his fingers between Abed's. "All of it. Especially, uh, everything you did and everything you said. That was all pretty great."
Abed smiles and opens his mouth to respond, but he is cut off by the opening notes of "Daybreak" blaring from Troy's phone. Before Troy can move, the smile has vanished from Abed's face, and he sits up quickly. "Your alarm," he says flatly.
"Fuck, I didn't know what time it was..." Troy scrambles to grab his phone and shut the sound off before turning desperately back toward Abed. "I thought we had more time."
Abed's impossibly gentle eyes are pleading with Troy, begging for some kind of answer Troy doesn't think he can give. He isn't even sure he knows what the question is.