Chapter Text
Abed is thirty when he gets married.
“This is so crazy,” Troy giggles as the door of their hotel room falls shut behind them. “I can’t believe we really did it.”
He crowds Abed against the door, one hand sliding under Abed’s hoodie, the other cupping his jaw. Abed feels the smooth metal of Troy’s ring against his skin, making him shiver.
“Annie will kill us when she finds out,” he says before meeting Abed’s lips in a kiss, slightly clumsy because he’s smiling too wide.
“So will Shirley,” Abed points out, pulling Troy closer to him.
“And Britta. And Jeff. And the dean. And my mom. We’ve basically signed our own death sentence,” Troy continues, sounding way too happy for someone supposedly condemned to death.
“Do you regret it?” Abed asks, already knowing the answer.
“No,” Troy says immediately, meeting Abed’s eyes. He looks happy and radiant and like the most beautiful thing Abed has ever seen. He thinks about the fact that he’ll get to look at Troy for the rest of their lives, and feels a balloon of joy expand in his chest.
“I’m glad we did it this way,” Troy continues. “That it was just for the two of us, you know?”
“Yeah,” Abed agrees, finding Troy’s mouth again and peeling himself from the door as he does so, so that he can walk them inside the room and towards the bed. “Me too.”
Their day had started normally enough, like many other Saturday mornings before it. They woke up together in their LA home, finding their way to each other with sleepy kisses and lazy caresses. They woke each other up in the best of ways, sleepiness melting into desire as they let their hands roam over each other’s bodies, soft and unhurried. There was no rush as Troy sank down onto him, his skin glowing in the morning sunlight. All Abed had to do was to lie back and enjoy the view while Troy took his pleasure, grinding himself down against Abed’s cock, and Abed could hardly believe he got to experience something so blissful once, let alone on a regular basis. When Troy’s movements started to lose their rhythm, Abed planted his feet, grabbed Troy’s hips and pushed up to meet him, delivering a series of hard, sharp thrusts that had Troy gasping for breath and spilling all over Abed’s belly in no time, Abed following right after.
They cleaned each other up, made breakfast and took it out on the patio to enjoy the late morning sun. So far everything was normal, until the moment Abed stopped in the middle of his rant about no one wanting to pick up his show (Mariana Trench, telling the story of Mariana Trench, a marine biologist reluctantly solving supernatural mysteries with her happy-go-lucky himbo assistant), realizing Troy wasn’t listening to him. Instead, he was just staring at him with a fond look, mouth hanging slightly open.
“What?” Abed asked, confused.
Troy blinked. “Nothing. I love you.”
And then he got up from his chair, dropped to one knee and said, “Will you marry me?”
Which, he explained later, wasn’t how he had planned to propose, but apparently Abed was “so cute” in that moment that he just couldn’t wait any longer.
Of course Abed said yes. They made quick way back inside the house to avoid scandalizing their neighbors and had passionate sex on the rug in front of their electric fireplace, which was far less comfortable than it sounded and probably ruined their rug forever, but that was the last thing on their minds.
Afterwards, lying sweaty on the uncomfortable floor but too blissed out and exhausted to move, Abed traced the lines of Troy’s face with a fingertip and could hardly breath with the knowledge that this beautiful man had traveled the world and decided that the place where he wanted to spend the rest of his life was by Abed’s side.
“I love you,” Abed murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to the neatly groomed beard on Troy’s cheek. He really liked that beard. “I can’t wait to marry you.”
“Hmm, me too,” Troy sighed. “I wish we could, like, go to Vegas and get married immediately.”
Abed thought about it for a second and said, “We can.”
They had waited long enough. Four and a half years of not daring to act on their feelings, two years, eight months, and three days of Troy being gone, and then the four months it took for them to find their way back to each other, for Abed to adjust to the idea of Troy being back and settling in LA to be near him and wanting him and not going anywhere, and for Troy to let go of the guilt he felt for leaving. And then eighteen perfect, radiant months together. It had been more than long enough.
And so they did it. Abed wasn’t sure if it was necessary to go all the way to Las Vegas to get married on the same day, but he didn’t bother looking into it; Las Vegas is the traditional spur-of-the-moment wedding spot. They bought tickets to the earliest available flight they could make and Abed googled the specifics of actually getting married in Vegas as opposed to what movies showed, while Troy rummaged in his sock drawer for the engagement rings he’d bought for both of them because the fidget spinner ring he’d chosen for Abed looked cool and he wanted one too.
Then they got on a plane and in a taxi and got their marriage license and found the nearest chapel with an available walk-in slot and got actually, for-real married.
And now it’s almost midnight, they’re in a hotel room above a casino, the night outside is aglow with neon lights, and they’re husbands.
Abed feels like his head is spinning with exhilarating reality of it, so he buries his face in Troy’s neck and breathes him in to ground himself before pushing him down on the bed.
“We can still have a proper wedding, if we want,” he suggests as he climbs on top of him. “To make our friends and family happy.”
“We can do that?” Troy asks, incredulous, as if he had thought it would be illegal.
“Sure. It’s basically just a party.”
Troy gives him an awed look. “That’s genius, you’re so smart. That way we get the best out of both worlds, and no one gets killed.”
He tangles his hand in Abed’s hair to pull him into another kiss, then starts pushing Abed’s hoodie off his shoulders.
“But if we do that, which one of us will do the bouquet toss and which one the garter toss?” he asks thoughtfully.
“I don’t think we have to do either,” Abed says, tossing his hoodie to the floor, his t-shirt following right after.
“Oh,” Troy says, seemingly a little disappointed. “I’d look great in garters, though.”
All of Abed’s blood rushes away from his brain, and not just because Troy chose that moment to lick his nipple. He imagines Troy spread out on a bed wearing nothing but a garter belt and stockings, and his vision nearly blacks out.
“Yeah, you would,” he croaks.
Troy lifts his head from Abed’s chest to look at him and smirks. “You like that idea, huh?”
He lets his hand drop between Abed’s legs, cupping him through his pants as if to check how much he likes it. Abed rocks his hips forward helplessly.
“I guess that’s our plans for our second wedding night sorted, then,” Troy smiles smugly, working his hand inside Abed’s pants.
“Hmm, not sure that’s a good idea,” Abed sighs, his mind torn between his vision of Troy in garters and the real sensations of Troy’s hands and mouth on him. “Might be accidently rude to our guests if I have to keep thinking about you wearing that.”
“Oh yeah?” Troy teases as they clumsily get Abed out of his jeans and underwear. “Wouldn’t want that. Maybe you’ll just have to learn to control yourself, then. Enjoy the anticipation.”
Abed takes hold of Troy’s chin and gently makes him meet his eyes. “And how well will you be able to control yourself, knowing what I’ll do to you when I get you alone?” he asks, voice dropping low.
Troy’s eyes widen and he gulps. “What will you do to me?”
Abed leans closer to his ear. “Haven’t decided yet, but I’m thinking I’ll eat you out until you desperate and begging for it, and then I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll scream.”
Troy moans sinfully. “Fuck, Abed.”
In a surprising move, Troy flips them over, claiming Abed’s mouth in a filthy kiss as he slots their bodies together and rocks his still-clothed thigh against Abed’s aching dick.
“Okay, new plan,” Troy says breathlessly between kisses. “Scratch the wedding night, we have to do that as soon as possible.”
Abed hums in agreement, letting out a little moan as Troy kisses his way down towards his groin.
Abed has had a lot of sex with a lot of people, but it’s only with Troy that he’s learned how varied it can really be. He’d been with people who liked vastly different things, obviously, but even with his more long-term fuck buddies, Abed’s approach was always the same: find out what it is they like and then do it until they’re satisfied. He was always in control, always focused on doing the right thing to bring them pleasure. But with Troy, his Troy who came back to him, there’s so much more to it than that.
Sure, they have their basic dynamic, where Abed takes care of Troy and Troy lets himself be taken of, because that’s what works best for both of them, but it can develop in so many different ways. Sometimes it’s Abed worshipping Troy’s body, lavishing attention on him and giving him every single thing he desires. Other times, like in Abed’s garter fantasy, Troy wants a firmer hand, wants Abed to take control of his pleasure more fully, tell him what to do, when to move and when to stay still and when to come. Mostly, it’s something in between.
Recently they’ve started experimenting with something more intense, too. Letting Evil Abed come into play and use Troy more roughly than real Abed would, making him surrender and obey and submit. Afterwards Abed wraps Troy in a fluffy blanket and cuddles him and soothes him and makes sure he has everything he needs. It’s something Abed could never do with someone he didn’t trust as fully as he trusts Troy. (And he could never trust anyone else as fully as he trusts Troy, because Troy is the only person he trusts to always come back.)
There’s a flip side to that trust, though – it means that Abed can give up control, too. He can let Troy use his body for his own pleasure without Abed taking charge of the proceedings, like this morning. He can relax and let Troy do all the work when he’s too overwhelmed with feelings to play a more active role, like now. He can let Troy take care of him and tell him how good he’s being. Sometimes that’s all Abed wants, and Troy gives it to him, generous and loving.
Sometimes this reversal means that Troy tops, and that’s always a treat. Abed doesn’t have to tie him up and ride him to let it happen (although they like it that way too). He can just let Troy fuck him and enjoy every second of it. Maybe that’s what he’d want now, if they hadn’t had such a long, intense day. Now he just wants to come in a simple, straightforward way, and go to sleep with his husband in his arms.
Sex isn’t always hot and heavy and passionate. Sometimes it’s gentle and romantic, sometimes it’s hard and rough, sometimes light and playful. Sometimes it’s just a perfunctory scratching of an itch. And sometimes it’s like this, simple and easy, good in a comfortable, unassuming way.
He breathes heavily as Troy nuzzles the crease of his thigh before licking a long line up the underside of his cock and circling the tip with his tongue. Abed sighs, allowing himself to give in to it, and somehow that’s all it takes: he comes without warning, a single slow-rolling, gentle wave.
Troy splutters a little, caught by surprise, but reacts quickly and works him through it with his hand.
“Sorry,” Abed mutters as he catches his breath, his body winding down.
“’S fine,” Troy smiles, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and then wiping his hand on the bedsheets, making Abed wince. “I guess you just really liked the thought of those garters.”
He moves up Abed’s body and kisses him long and sweet and like he never wants to stop. The good news is he never has to stop – they have the rest of their lives.
“What would you like?” Abed asks when they break apart, running his hand down Troy’s chest. He’s still fully dressed while Abed is completely naked. It’s an imbalance that can bring interesting power dynamics – usually when it’s the other way round – but tonight it’s felt nothing but quietly comfortable.
“I think I’m good, actually,” Troy says. He settles on his side next to Abed, running his fingers through his hair.
“Sure?” Abed asks. He grabs Troy’s hand, brings it to his lips to kiss the inside of his wrist and then lets it return to his hair. Once upon a time he’d be intensely uncomfortable with being the only one who gets to come, feeling like he’d failed at his only task. But with Troy, he knows that it’s fine. There will be other times when he’ll want to take care of Troy without getting off himself. Sometimes it’s like that, too.
“Yeah. I’m just – kinda tired and really hungry,” Troy says. “Can we order room service?”
Abed suddenly remembers that they haven’t eaten anything since a packet of cashews on the plane and ice cream as they waited for their turn at the wedding chapel, and he realizes that he’s hungry, too. They can both be pretty bad at remembering mundane things like mealtimes when they get caught up in something, and getting married was a pretty big something.
“Yeah, let’s do that,” Abed agrees.
Troy takes his time to kiss him soundly once more before getting up to find the menu on the writing desk.
“I love ordering room service,” he muses as he climbs back on the bed. “It makes me feel rich.”
“You are rich,” Abed reminds him. “You just flew first class to another state on a whim. That’s rich people behavior.”
“Uh, you take that back right now,” Troy says, shoving him playfully. “Marrying you was not a whim. That was, like, the soundest, most well-supported decision of my life.”
And somehow that casually spoken sentence leaves Abed entirely speechless. He looks at Troy, who leans against the pillows and starts reading the menu out loud to him, and he’s so happy it feels like it shouldn’t be humanly possible.
Troy left him once and Abed thought it would kill him, but it didn’t. Troy came back to him and it turned out that the time apart had made them better – individually, but also better for each other. And now Abed is here, married to the love of his life despite all the simulations that said it could never happen. They’re here, and it’s real.
“I love you,” he says when he finds his voice.
Troy glances at him and smiles brightly. “I know. I love you too.”
They order food and Abed takes a shower. When he comes out of the bathroom, he finds Troy sprawled on the sofa, flipping through TV channels, drowsy and bleary-eyed.
“You know what I just realized?” he says, yawning. “We didn’t do any Vegas wedding homages.”
“I know,” Abed says as he climbs next to him. “I wanted today to be just about us. But maybe tomorrow I can try winning some money on a slot machine and you can act like you’re only with me for the money before we fall in love for real.”
“Cool,” Troy mumbles. He looks so adorably sleepy Abed wonders if he’ll be able to stay up long enough to actually eat the food they ordered, but then Troy sits up abruptly, eyes suddenly wide.
“Abed,” he gasps, grabbing Abed’s arm in excitement. “I just had an awesome idea. Remember what we said about maybe throwing a proper wedding?”
“Yes,” Abed says, curious.
“Yeah, well, but we’re already married, right? So we don’t have to worry about anything going wrong. Like, if the rings go missing, it won’t stress us out, because we’ll be already married. Or if the officiant shows up late, or someone gets really drunk and makes an embarrassing speech about how we were so dumb in college, or…”
“… or if someone crashes the wedding, or one of us spills red wine on his suit,” Abed adds, suddenly understanding what Troy is getting at: they can do all the wedding-gone-wrong tropes without worrying it will actually make their wedding go wrong.
“Yeah!” Troy says, completely awake now. “And maybe during the ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ bit someone stands up and says I married them on Tahiti…”
“… but it turns out that it’s just a jilted ex-lover seeking revenge, so that gets cleared up, but then I get cold feet and Jeff has to save the wedding with a Winger speech.”
“Perfect,” Troy laughs. They reach for each other and do their handshake, which has never lost its magic even after all these years.
Their food arrives, so they sit on the bed eating chicken fingers and planning their perfectly disastrous wedding until they’re too full and tired to do anything besides curling up under the covers together.
“Was there really someone on Tahiti?” Abed asks as they settle in, Troy’s arm around his waist, his chest warm against Abed’s back. Abed isn’t asking out of jealousy, just curiosity. He knows that getting a better understanding of his sexuality was one of the reasons why Troy took the trip, and it would be extremely hypocritical of Abed to begrudge him that.
“Yes,” Troy admits. His breath tickles the back of Abed’s neck as he yawns. “I never thought about marrying him, though. I already knew then it had to be you.”
“Did you?”
“Hmm, yes,” Troy slurs, his body getting heavy. “It was kind of obvious from the start, when you think about it.”
The foreshadowing was always there, Abed has to agree, tyhinking about Troy calling him his other half when they had only known each other for a few months. They took a long way to get here, but they did it.
Abed threads his fingers with Troy’s, their rings clinking against each other.
He wouldn’t change it for the world.