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The aftermath of a wedding is a lot less magical-looking than the event itself, Troy thinks as he and Abed make their way back into the study room, exhausted from evading Blorgons and in dire need of any leftover food they can pilfer. Britta’s floral arrangements are beginning to wilt and the half-empty glasses scattered through the room ruin its elegant effect, but the string lights are putting up a valiant effort to continue twinkling beside swatches of soft tulle and organza.
“Some party, huh?” Troy deadpans, swiping a few cookies from the dessert table and tossing one across the room to Abed, who catches it easily. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. Just say you like each other and be done with it, right?”
Abed, his back to Troy as he takes in the vestiges of the altar, shrugs noncommittally, breaking his cookie in half and letting the crumbs scatter around his feet.
“I mean,” Troy continues, crossing the room, “wedding vows are always like, ‘Blah blah blah, love is patient and kind, blah blah blah.’ Like we get it, you watched A Walk to Remember. We’ve all cried over that scene, you’re not special.”
He meets Abed at the altar and grabs one half of the cookie from his hand, and the two eat in silence for a while. When Abed speaks, his eyes are on the floor.
“I don’t know. Weddings have become such a staple of American film they basically have their own genre now. The Wedding Singer, The Wedding Planner, Wedding Crashers, My Best Friend’s Wedding, Father of the Bride, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, 27 Dresses, Made of Honor…”
“Yeah, and those are all terrible weddings," Troy points out. “I don't know, maybe don’t plan a wedding for someone if you think you’re in love with them, duh-doy! Or…or don’t wait until your best friend’s wedding day to tell them you’re in love with them. If you let it get that far without saying anything you’re just a jerk.” He pauses, tilting his head to think for a moment. “Wedding Crashers is okay. We should try that sometime, by the way.”
Abed lifts a finger to indicate the idea has been noted and stored away for future reference. “But what about the potential for antics, like in Love Actually? Think about the commitment to whimsy that went into the planning and execution of that scene – learning how to play ‘All You Need Is Love,’ smuggling an instrument into a church.”
“Okay, yeah, that was pretty dope,” Troy admits with a laugh. “That’s totally something we’d do at our wedding.”
Abed raises an eyebrow. “Our wedding?” he asks quickly, and Troy’s eyes widen comically.
“Uh, yeah, you know…” He shoves his hands into his pockets and tries to seem casual, like he hasn’t basically just confessed to his best friend he wants them to get married. That's a conversation he hasn't even fully figured out in his own brain, let alone something he's ready to bring up in front of Abed. “We’ll probably have a joint wedding, right? Since we’ll be each other’s best man and all. Just seems easier to have it all on one day.”
There’s a brief pause while Troy prays that sounded believable, and then Abed smiles. “You’re right,” he says. “The potential for hijinks doubles if we combine our ceremonies: body-swapping, mistaken identity, bride-and-switch, plus two opportunities for runaway brides or botched bouquet tosses…”
“Right! And when it all inevitably goes down in flames, you and I still get to hang out in suits and eat all the shrimp from the cocktail hour! It’s perfect.”
Tilting his head, Abed says lightly, “I don’t think all weddings inevitably go down in flames, Troy. Look at Monica and Chandler, or Turk and Carla, or Jim and Pam. They all found a way to make it work through the chaos. The shenanigans don’t derail them, they just become part of the story.”
“That only works on TV," Troy shoots back, rolling his eyes. "In real life, when something goes wrong at a wedding, it ruins the whole marriage, you know? You invite that one weird cousin who picks a fight at the reception, and everyone gets mad, and then it just builds for years until suddenly your dad is leaving your mom and getting a girlfriend who’s younger than you and making you move into a mansion with a racist old white guy!”
“Oh.” Eyes wide, Abed stares for a moment before nodding. “Okay. I get it now.” He takes a step closer to Troy, who’s now refusing to meet his eyes. “My parents had a really nice wedding. Like, royal-wedding-nice. I’ve watched their wedding video more times than I’ve seen Raiders of the Lost Ark. My mom arrived in a horse-drawn carriage and their reception lasted for hours into the night. Everyone says it was the best party they’d ever been to.”
“Must’ve been nice,” Troy muttered, eyes still downcast.
“It was. As far as weddings go, it was basically perfect. But that didn’t matter because my mom still left. A bad wedding doesn’t mean a relationship is doomed any more than a good wedding means a relationship is going to last." He shrugs. "It’s all up to the people involved.”
“So…just because Shirley and Andre didn’t work out the first time around doesn’t mean they’re doomed this time,” Troy says slowly, finally looking up at Abed. “And just because our parents couldn’t stay together…”
“Doesn’t mean we won’t work out,” Abed finishes, his eyes soft.
The silence between them is warm and sweet for a moment until they realize what Abed just said. “I mean – doesn’t mean our relationships won’t work out,” he says quickly, as Troy yelps, “You mean our marriages – you know, separately. To women.”
“Right.”
“Right.”
The string lights glimmer above their heads, casting them both in a fragile light. They’re standing right where Shirley and Andre had stood, and Troy thinks if he notices it, Abed, with his keen eye for blocking and staging, must be aware, but neither makes an effort to step away. Troy shuffles from one foot to another as he scoffs lightly.
“I guess you’re right, but weddings still seem dumb and formal, you know? Even Jeff and Britta’s vows seemed better than what I hear at most weddings. I mean, for richer or for poorer – like, obviously richer is the better option there! Why doesn’t anyone just say what they mean? Like, you’re my best friend and I can’t wait to watch TV with you forever.”
“Or thanks for buying Lucky Charms when you notice I ran out,” Abed adds, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully.
Troy nods “Or, you always find the coolest movies to watch, and you never get annoyed when you have to explain the confusing parts to me, and you're always coming up with awesome adventures for us to go on, and you never judge me when I cry in front of you, and...and you're my best friend, you know?"
“And you're mine."
They pause and lock eyes for a moment, neither wanting to be the first to move.
Abed finally breaks the silence, raising a finger and glancing to the side. “Do you feel a shift? There’s definitely been a shift, right?”
Troy is caught between wanting to lie and wanting to assure Abed that whatever he’s feeling, Troy’s feeling it too, but Abed sighs before he can speak. “It doesn’t really matter. I’ve run the simulations and I don’t get married. Not unless a lot of my data is based on false assumptions.”
“What? What’s stopping you from getting married?”
Abed sighs again, gaze dropping to the floor. “It would be difficult,” he says stiffly, “if the guy I was interested in romantically wasn’t also interested in dating men.”
For the second time, Troy’s eyes grow wide. “Oh,” he says quickly. “Sorry – I didn’t know you were, uh…we’ve never really talked about that before.”
“It was never really plot-relevant until now.” Abed glances at Troy. His eyes are as mysterious as ever, revealing nothing. But Troy thinks he’s catching on to something now – honestly, he can’t believe he never noticed it before.
“Abed, I think our shift happened a long time ago,” he says slowly. “Do you…do you like me? Romantically, I mean?" He hardly dares to believe it, but he needs to know. "Am I the guy you’re interested in?”
Looking away again, Abed stands silent for a moment before he nods. “I’m sorry, Troy,” he says quickly, voice soft. “I know this probably makes things really weird, which is why I didn’t want to tell you, but now it probably seems weirder that I tried to keep it a secret for so long–”
Heart pounding under his suit, Troy reaches out for his best friend’s hand. Abed frowns, eyes immediately seeking out Troy’s, searching for some sort of explanation. Troy smiles.
“Guess we’re only going to need to have one wedding, after all,” he says, watching a cautious, curious smile spread across Abed’s face. In tandem, they move toward each other, and under the glistening string lights at the top of the altar, they lean in for their first kiss, sweet and long overdue.
When they pull away, Troy breathes, “Can the monkey be the ringbearer?” Abed only laughs before pulling him back in for another kiss.