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Troy Barnes is a cuddler.
Abed discovers this during their first year at Greendale, when Troy starts falling asleep during their movie nights. Except he’s not really asleep, Abed notices soon. He’s seen Troy fall asleep for real, and when his head falls against Abed’s shoulder during the second half of whatever movie they’re watching together in Abed’s dorm, his muscles don’t relax enough and his breathing doesn’t deepen enough. He’s pretending.
Abed doesn’t understand it at first. He thinks that perhaps Troy got bored but was too embarrassed to say so, but Troy continues faking sleep even after the movie ends and only “wakes” when Abed shakes him gently. When Abed doesn’t, he usually falls asleep for real after a while. Abed could point out that he knows Troy is faking, but the weight of his head on Abed’s shoulder feels really nice, so he doesn’t. Eventually he realizes that the only reason Troy could have for doing this is that… he wants to rest his head on Abed’s shoulder. He wants a level of closeness that he doesn’t feel comfortable asking for. It doesn’t entirely make sense to Abed, but he knows that Troy sometimes wants or feels or likes things that he’s only just learning to accept, and this seems to be one of them. So the next time it happens, he moves very, very carefully, trying to jostle Troy as little as possible so he won’t think Abed is pushing him away, and he wraps an arm around Troy’s shoulders to show him that it’s okay, that he can ask Abed for anything he needs.
Troy tenses slightly under his touch, another sign that he isn’t really asleep, and for a second Abed worries that he misunderstood, or that he’s doing something wrong – he has very little experience with physical displays of platonic affection, after all. But then Troy sighs quietly and snuggles a little closer, and Abed has to stop himself from pumping his fist in satisfaction. Instead, he tightens his arm around Troy, rubbing his thumb over the soft fabric of his sweater, and holds him like this until long past the end credits.
After that, it becomes a kind of habit. Troy soon stops feeling the need to fake sleep and inches closer to Abed as the movie progresses, and before long they drop any kind of pretense and simply start watching already snuggled up close together. When it’s cold they share a blanket, which feels extra cozy. Troy becomes more tactile outside of the context of their movie nights, too. He holds Abed’s hand, hugs him, rubs his back. Abed keeps careful notes in one of his notebooks (he has a separate one just for Troy – his notes on him are way too extensive to be kept together with the others), so it doesn’t take him long to notice that physical affection has a positive effect on Troy’s mood. So Abed does his best to encourage Troy’s touch, make sure he knows it’s welcome, sometimes even initiates it.
He would be lying if he said it’s only for Troy’s benefit, though. He has very little experience with cuddling, just a few vague memories of his mother when he was very little and a few people who got clingy after sex, which was just sweaty and hot and unpleasant. With Troy, on the other hand, it feels nice. He likes feeling the weight of Troy’s body against his, the warmth of his skin, his fingers carding through Abed’s hair, the steady rhythm of his heart under Abed’s ear. It gives him a feeling of safety and comfort that he’s never experienced before, and he would do anything in his power to keep it for as long as he can.
*
The main benefit of having a girlfriend is that she’s the only person you’re allowed to cuddle, even if you’re supposed to never let it show how much like it and you have to act like you’re only suffering through it for her sake and you’re definitely not supposed to ever tell her you like cuddling better than having sex with her. Which is why it sucks that Troy can’t seem to get one at Greendale. He misses having someone to hold.
He catches himself one day one day watching Abed and wondering what it would be like to cuddle with him. Abed is skinny and bony, but Troy still thinks it would be really nice. Maybe it’s because of the soft sweatshirts he wears, or the comforting way he smells. Troy bets it would be really, really nice. But you’re not supposed to cuddle with your friends, not even when he’s your bestest friend ever in the whole wide world. Real men don’t do that. Except… Abed probably wouldn’t care about that. Things like that don’t matter to him. He wouldn’t laugh at Troy, or think he was weird to want that, need that. He wouldn’t tell anyone.
Troy’s pretty sure of that, but he still can’t bring himself to say or do anything about it, fear holding him back. So in the end, he does what he does to solve most problems: he pretends to be asleep, and this time it actually works. He lets his head fall against Abed’s shoulder, and it’s not really a cuddle but it’s better than nothing and Abed lets him have it. And then the third time Troy does it, Abed wraps an arm around him and pulls him closer.
Troy nearly starts crying with how good it feels.
It’s like a dam bursts inside him after that. He can’t stop himself from touching Abed whenever he had the opportunity and Abed doesn’t try to stop him either. Gradually, they progress from Troy’s head on Abed’s shoulder to proper, full-on cuddling, and it’s glorious. It’s way better than cuddling with Troy’s high school girlfriend had been. Troy isn’t sure why, it just is. Maybe because everything with Abed is simply better. They curl up together on Abed’s couch whenever they watch a movie and it’s just the two of them, exploring different positions depending on what feels right. Sometimes Abed holds him, sometimes he gets to hold Abed, sometimes they just sort of slump against each other while holding hands. Sometimes he absent-mindedly starts stroking Abed’s hair, and sometimes Abed strokes his. It all feels so good that Troy can’t decide what he likes best.
He’s still trying to get a girlfriend, because that’s what he’s supposed to do, but his heart isn’t really in it. (Maybe it never was.)
The fact that he and Abed are so physically comfortable with each other now comes in really handy after the Halloween party that no one can remember. They watch Marmaduke in Abed’s room but Troy can’t really focus on it. He feels unsettled and jittery without knowing why, and he can’t stop thinking about how strange it is that they all lost their memory and everybody’s wounds looked like bite marks. He has no idea how he would cope with that without Abed’s arms around him. Abed holding him close is the only thing that keeps him from freaking out.
When the movie ends, neither of them makes any move to separate. Troy definitely doesn’t want to go back to Pierce’s mansion, having to pass by an evil Norwegian troll on his way to his lonely room. But he doesn’t even want to just get up, brush his teeth and go to sleep on the lower bunk, like he has done many times before, with Abed right above him. He doesn’t want to leave Abed’s arms, and it doesn’t seem like Abed wants to let him go. Instead, he maneuvers them until they’re fully stretched out on the couch, Troy lying half on top of him. It’s… surprisingly comfortable and comforting, and Troy knows that Abed sometimes finds weight and pressure calming and grounding, so he supposes he’s not the only one who feels that way. They’re really so lucky, aren’t they, that they’ve got each other and that they can be together like this.
He falls asleep with his face buried in Abed’s chest. He forgets to look for a girlfriend after that.
*
Troy doesn’t leave along with everybody else after Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer ends. He hangs back, waiting until everyone has gone before stepping close to Abed and wrapping his arms around him.
Abed knew it would happen, but it’s only as Troy envelops him in a hug that he realizes it was more than that: he wanted it to happen. He’s been waiting for this for hours, hoping, longing for the comfort of Troy’s arms around him.
“You okay, buddy?” Troy asks quietly as his hand moves up and down Abed’s back in a repetitive, soothing motion. Abed feels tension drain out of him that he wasn’t even aware of.
“I am now,” Abed confirms, breathing in the scent of Troy’s hair. “Will you stay?”
He means stay the night, because he’d really like that, but Troy pulls back a little so he can look him firmly in the eye.
“With you to the end,” Troy repeats, and something in Abed’s chest constricts. “Always.”
They brush their teeth side by side in the communal bathroom and Abed lends Troy the pair of pajamas Troy has borrowed so often that Abed now thinks of them as Troy’s. And then he climbs into bed, except he chooses the bottom bunk, where Troy usually sleeps, hoping Troy will understand what he’s asking for. He remembers waking up on November 1st wrapped up around Troy, and how good and right it felt even though the couch made his back hurt. He wants more of that.
He scoots all the way to the wall to make enough room for Troy, and when he looks at him Troy just smiles and climbs under the covers without hesitation, sliding close to Abed. Abed turns to his side and Troy spoons up behind him, an arm around Abed’s waist, his chest pressed to Abed’s back. When Abed’s hand finds Troy’s, Troy immediately laces their fingers together, and Abed’s heart stutters in his chest.
“This is nice,” Troy murmurs sleepily, his breath warm on the back of Abed’s neck.
“Yes,” Abed agrees, because it is. It’s no longer just about making Troy happy, it hasn’t been for a long time now, Abed realizes. It makes him happy too, it makes him feel comforted and safe and – and loved. Troy makes him feel loved, because Troy loves him.
He squeezes Troy’s hand, resisting the urge to bring it to his lips.
“You’re a really good friend, Troy.”
“Thanks,” Troy says, and even though Abed can’t see him he knows exactly the kind of bashful, pleased smile Troy has on his face right now. “So are you. The best.”
It’s the best night’s sleep Abed has ever had. After that night, they share the bottom bunk whenever Troy stays over, and when they finally move in together in the summer, they sleep like that at least once a week. It’s a tight squeeze, but they don’t mind.
*
The thing about the cuddling is that they never really talk about it. They don’t have to, they know each other well enough to be able to read each other’s cues, they know how to tell when the other wants a hug or when he needs space, they know how to ask for a cuddle with just a touch or a look. They spend so much time tangled up together, in bed or on the couch or sometimes even sharing one of their chairs, it becomes second nature. So it feels unfamiliar and oddly vulnerable when Troy steps inside their blanket fort the night after the pillows and blankets war and he realizes he has to ask, because he doesn’t know.
“Can we cuddle?”
Abed looks up at him from where he’s sitting on the lower bunk, wringing his hands in his lap. His eyes are huge and sad and it takes him long enough to answer that Troy starts to think he’s going to say no, but then he nods, already reaching for Troy.
They’ve talked and explained and apologized, but it’s not enough, it still doesn’t feel right. Troy needs to know that the closeness between them hasn’t disappeared, that they haven’t ruined it, because if they have, then… he doesn’t know what he would do. But when Abed’s arms wrap around him, it feels just as right as it always has. Abed still feels like home, like the place where Troy wants to go when he’s sad or scared. Like now. Because losing Abed’s friendship is the saddest, scariest thing that could ever happen to him, and it almost did.
“I know,” Abed murmurs even though Troy didn’t say anything, and then Troy feels soft pressure in his hair that he realizes a second later was a kiss. Abed just kissed the top of his head. And that’s… new. Abed had never kissed him before, and Troy has never kissed Abed, but right now he’s not sure why not. He loves Abed and he wants to express that any way he can, especially now. Why should kisses be off limits? He doesn’t care what anyone else would think.
He kisses Abed’s shoulder, which might be a weird place to kiss but he doesn’t think it matters to Abed. His arms tighten around Troy and Troy snuggles in closer, holding on tight. They’ll be okay.
Kisses become part of their cuddling routine after that. On the cheek, on the forehead, on the temple. Not on the lips… yet. Troy thinks he might want to do that too. He thinks Abed would let him. He thinks he’s going to do that, one day when it feels right, when he’s ready to face what it means. Just not yet. They’ve got time.
Until they don’t, and he has to say goodbye to Abed without kissing him or hugging him because if he did that he’d never be able to leave at all. The only thing he thinks about at the AC school is how much he misses having Abed in his arms, and how he’s going to kiss him once he finds a way to get back.
*
When Troy comes back, he hugs Abed for three minutes straight and only stops when Britta and Annie become very adamant about getting a hug of their own. But even after that, he keeps touching Abed like he can’t help himself, and Abed keeps touching him because he definitely can’t help himself. Troy never leaves his side and they hold hands through most of their impromptu celebration of Troy’s return. The others don’t find it weird because they hold hands all the time (well, they do find it weird but they’re used to it, they just think of it as a Troy-and-Abed thing), but Abed knows there’s something different this time.
When they get home and are finally alone in their blanket fort, they don’t even bother changing into their pajamas, they just strip down to their t-shirts and underwear and slip under the covers together. Their legs tangle together as they cling to each other, and Abed feels like he’s taking his first full breath in two months.
“I missed you so much,” Troy whispers where his face is buried in the crook of Abed’s neck. “I missed everyone, but you most of all. I missed this.”
“Me too. I think I went a little crazy without you.” Trying to cut off a friend’s arm probably qualifies as more than a little crazy, but Abed doesn’t want to think about that now. He only wants to think about Troy, warm and solid and real in his arms. He kisses the side of his head, holding him tighter.
“I’m never leaving you again,” Troy vows, pressing a kiss to Abed’s jaw. “Not for a billion dollars.”
His lips move over Abed’s face, kissing his cheek, his temple, his forehead, down his nose and to the other cheek. They’ve been pushing the definition of platonic for the last few… years, really, but this is something else, something more.
Abed’s eyes blink open when Troy stops dropping little kisses to his face. Troy’s gaze on him is warm and brimming with something that takes Abed’s breath away. His thumb brushes over Abed’s cheek and he leans in slowly, giving Abed plenty of time to move away, but of course Abed doesn’t do that. Instead he meets him halfway, pressing their lips together in a sweet, gentle kiss.
They part only to look at each other and confirm silently that yes, this is what they want, what they’ve always wanted. Troy gives him a small yet heart-stopping smile, and brings their mouths together again.
It doesn’t develop into anything more that night. It’s a night of easy, familiar closeness, soft touches and tender kisses. There will be many more nights like this, and just as many nights that won’t be like this at all. And if Troy gets clingy after sex, Abed wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves a good cuddle.