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Abed likes kissing Troy. And Troy, it turns out, really likes being kissed, which is probably why they seem to spend all of their alone time making out now. A few months ago, they probably would have been spending this time in the Dreamatorium, but Abed had torn it down for Troy, and now that Britta is living with them there’s no chance of rebuilding it. He still has his mini-Dreamatorium, of course, and it’s good enough for when he really needs it -- though he misses being able to physically act out the roles -- but it’s only big enough for one person, which means no more Dreamatorium adventures with Troy.
“I have a proposition,” Abed says abruptly, breaking their kiss.
“Uh. Okay.” Troy blinks. His eyes are clouded. His pupils are dilated. The back of his neck feels flushed under Abed’s fingers. Abed is relatively sure Troy is aroused.
“The family on the first floor has a three bedroom apartment,” Abed says. “They’re moving out next week, and the landlord hasn’t found anyone to rent it yet.”
Troy’s eyes widen. “Abed, are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”
“If we had a third bedroom, we could rebuild the Dreamatorium. Plus the master bedroom has a walk-in closet and its own bathroom.”
Troy’s eyes are almost Levar Burton-wide. “Abed, do you know what that would mean? We would never have to leave the Dreamatorium for bathroom breaks or costume changes. If we got a mini-fridge, we could literallygo days without leaving the Dreamatorium.” He grins. “Abed, you’re a genius.”
Troy reaches out for their handshake, and Abed complies. He had worried, at first, that dating Troy would create a paradigm shift in their friendship, but aside from kissing and sleeping in the same bed, things have more or less stayed the same between them.
“We should go back to kissing,” Abed says. “You should lay down on the bed.”
Troy does, and Abed climbs over top of him and quickly closes the distance between them. Troy groans and grabs onto Abed’s sides for support, his head tipping back against the pillows. Abed isn’t surprised that Troy is so expressive when kissing, mostly because he’s just as expressive the rest of the time. He knows Troy’s self-conscious about it, but really, it’s one of Abed’s favorite things about Troy. His emotions are always visible, on the surface. It makes him much easier for Abed to read.
Abed knows, based on the severity of Troy’s reactions, that Troy likes it best when he kisses him as Abed. His second favorite is Evil Abed, but he doesn’t like being Evil Abed too often. It means going to places in his mind that he shouldn’t visit too often, even if it does get some of Abed’s favorite reactions out of Troy.
Tonight, Abed just kisses him as Abed, deep and thorough and with a little too much tongue because Abed wants to memorize every centimeter of Troy, wants to be able to close his eyes when Troy is not around and call back the memory of Troy’s mouth so perfectly that he can feel it. He wants to know that if Troy ever gets tired of this, he can stand inside the mini-Dreamatorium and drop himself right back into this moment.
Abed pulls back just a little to look at Troy. His eyes are closed, his breath is ragged, and his head is still tipped back against the pillows. Abed likes the way it makes his throat look. He makes a note to try a vampire simulation once they get the new Dreamatorium up and running. (He’s tentatively calling it Dreamatorium 2: Dream Harder. He’s pretty sure Troy will be on board with it.)
“Is it okay if I kiss your neck?” Abed asks. Abed always asks before doing anything they haven’t done before.
He can see Troy swallow. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s okay.”
Abed bends down and presses his lips tentatively to the place where Troy’s jawbone meets his neck. He can feel Troy’s breath quicken. Troy’s hands slide up his back, one coming to rest on his shoulder and the other sliding into his hair. It’s an odd feeling, being this enveloped by Troy, but not unpleasant. He finds Troy’s pulse point and sucks gently.
“Abed.” Troy’s voice sounds wrecked, ragged. His fingers tighten in Abed’s hair. Abed shivers.
He keeps sliding downward until his chin brushes the collar of Troy’s pajamas. He wants to keep going, wants to explore every inch of his skin. Wants to know how much rougher Troy’s voice will get and if he can get Troy to make some of the sounds he used to hear from the bedroom when Troy was having sex with Britta.
“I want to unbutton your shirt,” Abed says.
“Only if you take off yours first.” Troy reaches down to pluck at the buttons of Abed’s pajama shirt.
Abed complies, partly due to an interest in visual symmetry, but mostly because he really wants to kiss Troy’s chest. Once Abed shucks off his shirt, Troy slides his hands down Abed’s chest. Troy looks enraptured. Troy brushes the pads of his thumbs against his nipples until they go hard, and Abed’s breath catches in his throat.
He bends back down to Troy’s chest, dragging his lips across Troy’s sternum. His heartbeat is erratic under Abed’s palm. He presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss against Troy’s nipple. Troy whines and arches up against him. Abed can feel Troy’s erection against his stomach. It’s not the first time Abed has become aware of Troy’s erection while making out -- they tend to make out in their pajamas -- but except for a few seconds the first time as Evil Abed, he hasn’t really felt it.
“Abed.” Troy’s hands scramble against Abed’s back. His nails dig into Abed’s shoulders. It hurts a little, but Abed doesn’t mind. He likes knowing that Troy feels that good, likes the way his name sounds on Troy’s lips.
Then Abed sucks Troy’s nipple between his teeth.
“Holy hell, Abed,” Troy gasps. He pushes back at Abed’s shoulders. “Wait, stop. I need -- I need to stop, fuck.”
Abed sits back on his heels, peering down at Troy curiously.
Troy has one arm draped over his eyes. His breath comes in sharp pants, and his chest is damp with sweat. Troy’s pajama bottoms are still tented, and Abed feels the sudden itch to reach under the waistband of his pants and touch him.
“Why did we stop?” Abed asks.
Troy shudders out a breath. “Because that felt really, really good.”
“Is that bad?” Abed tilts his head to one side.
“It is when it means you’re like, thirty seconds away from creaming your pants,” Troy says.
“And that’s bad,” Abed supplies.
“Really bad.”
Abed’s gaze rakes over Troy’s body, taking in every inch of him. He’s always known that Troy was attractive -- not thought, known, because it’s fact and Abed is fairly certain he could measure it empirically if needed -- but seeing Troy like this is an entirely different experience.
“You look really good right now,” Abed says.
Troy laughs. “Yeah, you too, Abed.”
Troy sits up and tries to readjust his pants. Abed’s thinks he’s probably trying to make his erection less obvious, but mostly it just draws Abed’s attention back to it. He’s pretty sure Troy notices him looking.
“I, uh.” Troy scoots over to the edge of the bed, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I think I should sleep on the top bunk tonight.”
Abed doesn’t quite understand. Troy’s told him that he sleeps better with another person, and since they’ve started dating, Troy’s never opted to sleep in the other bed unless Abed asked him to. But Troy never questions it when Abed needs space, and Abed promised to trust Troy, so he doesn’t question Troy, either.
“Cool.” He slides to the edge of the bed next to Troy. “Cool cool cool. Are you going to bed now?”
Troy nods, then grabs his crumpled pajama shirt from the floor. He shrugs it on over his shoulders. Abed beats Troy to the buttons, pushing each little plastic button slowly, meticulously through the hole in the flanel. Abed can’t read the look Troy gives him. It’s something like arousal, but softer.
Troy leans in to kiss Abed goodnight. Troy usually lets Abed do the kissing, except for their goodnight kiss, which might be why it’s Abed’s favorite. It’s soft, lingering, but chaste. It feels different this time, though, like Troy is holding himself back.
Abed watches Troy climb up the ladder to the top bunk, then crawls under the covers. The bed suddenly feels too big for him.
“Hey, Abed?” Troy calls down, after a moment.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
It’s the second time Troy’s said it since they’ve been together. In relationship terms it’s probably technically too much too soon, but they’ve known each other for four years, and Abed’s pretty sure, in hindsight, that he and Troy have been in love for at least three of them.
Abed hesitates. He’s tempted to reply as Han Solo again. He knows Troy wouldn’t mind, but it almost feels like cheating this time.
“I love you, too,” he says at last, and it’s true. Abed does love Troy, probably more than he loves anyone else in the world.
“Night, Abed.”
“Goodnight, Troy.”
--
Twenty minutes. That’s how long Troy has been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking of the grossest, most unsexy things he can think of, and he’s still so hard it hurts. He could sneak off to the bathroom to take care of it -- which, now that he thinks about it, is probably what he should have done to start with, because then he could be cuddled up with Abed on the bottom bunk right now -- but he’s pretty sure Abed is asleep and he doesn’t want to wake him up.
He’s even tried just closing his eyes and making himself go to sleep, but between the fact that he pretty much can’t focus on anything other than his boner and that he’s gotten so used to sleeping with Abed or, before that, Britta that the bed feels cold and lonely without someone else there, he’s starting to think it’s just not going to happen.
Troy takes a deep breath. He’s going to check if Abed’s asleep, and if he’s not, he’s going to say he has to go to the bathroom and take care of it there. And if he is asleep...
Troy shivers. If Abed is asleep, Troy is going to try to get himself off very, very quietly in the bunk bed and hope to God that Abed doesn’t wake up.
Troy peaks over the edge of the bunk bed, and yeah, just like he figured, Abed is sound asleep.
Fuck.
Troy bites his lip and closes his eyes. Troy hasn’t done this in bed since he and Abed moved in together. It’s kind of impolite to masturbate with your best friend sleeping just a few feet away from you, and doing it in the shower is just cleaner anyway, but this is kind of an emergency.
Troy tugs the waistband of his pants down, and the feeling of the cool air against his dick makes him shudder. He’s pretty sure he’s not going to last more than a minute, and honestly, that’s probably a good thing.
Troy strokes himself loosely in one hand, and suddenly all he can think about is Abed, and he thinks it’s maybe not that creepy to think about someone while you’re masturbating if you’re actually dating them and making out with them on a regular basis, so it’s probably okay.
He thinks about kissing Abed, about Evil Abed pinning him down and grinding about him, and how he really wants to see that version of Abed more once they get the new Dreamatorium up and running. He thinks about earlier, when Abed’s mouth had been everywhere, and how it felt when Abed actually sucked on his nipple, and he’d been kind of judgemental when Britta mentioned doing that kind of stuff with Jeff but Troy’s starting to get it now because he’s pretty sure there’s some sort of direct line between his nipples and his dick.
He thinks about how Abed had been steadily working his way downward, and wonders, if he hadn’t stopped him, how far down Abed would have gone. He lets out a little involuntary whimper.
The bed creaks, and Troy holds his breath and tries not to move. His dick is throbbing in his hand.
He waits a few minutes, waits to see if Abed says anything or gets up to use the bathroom, but nothing else happens. It’s probably nothing. Abed must have moved in his sleep, or Troy jostled the bed without realizing it.
But the thought of Abed catching him... He doesn’t know if it’s just because he’s so close to coming already, but that’s kind of hot, too. Maybe Abed would climb up on the bed with him and pick up where he left off, kissing down Troy’s stomach, over his hips. His dick is slick with pre-come, and he wonders if Abed would want to taste it.
Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he would just ask Troy why he stopped. Maybe he’d want to watch, and that’s -- god, that’s somehow even hotter.
Troy muffles a groan into his pillow and comes all over his hand and pajama pants. It’s gross, and it reminds him exactly why he usually keeps it to the shower, but his body is starting to feel heavy and fuzzy finally, which is the one good thing about actually masturbating in bed.
Troy wipes his hands off on his pajama bottoms, sets his alarm to make sure he gets up before Abed so that he can change, and tucks himself back inside his pants.
Troy pulls his spare pillow down into his arms to cuddle. He’s asleep within seconds.