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It's raining.
Jeff is at his condo waiting for Abed to arrive, and it seems like he should be here by now. Abed regularly walks over from his apartment, has done so several times a week for the past 3 months that they’ve been dating, and it generally takes him about 20 minutes.
It’s been 35 now and there’s no sign of him, and the rain just started, which worries Jeff a little. The storm came on suddenly, and he doubts Abed had the foresight to bring an umbrella.
He texts Abed, asking where he is, but doesn’t get a response. He hears a crack of thunder, and it starts raining harder, and Jeff decides to step outside in case he can see Abed coming down the street. He grabs his own umbrella and exits the building.
There’s no sign of him walking, but Jeff stays outside for a minute just to make sure. When he finally gives up and turns around to go back inside, he catches a glimpse of red next to the bushes beside the building. He’s operating on pure instinct when he walks down the stairs and makes his way over to the bushes, and there, sitting on the wet ground in his red hoodie, is Abed. He’s sitting with his legs crossed in front of him, his face in his hands. His shoulders are shaking. His hood is pulled over his head and he is completely soaked.
The rain is coming down in sheets now, and the sky is a dark, ominous gray. Jeff gets down on his knees next to him, and he doesn’t think Abed even realizes he’s here, so he very gently puts a hand on one of his shoulders and waits.
When Abed moves his hands, Jeff sees that his face is red and blotchy and his eyes are bloodshot. They’re wet, too, but so is everything. Jeff holds his umbrella over Abed, and Abed blinks at him a couple of times, unmoving.
“Hey. What are you doing out here?” Jeff finally asks.
“I could ask you the same question,” Abed says, just loud enough to be heard over the storm.
“I was waiting for you, and I got worried,” Jeff says. “So I came outside to see if you were coming up the road. And then I saw your hoodie.”
“You should go back inside where it’s warm and dry.” Abed’s voice is strained.
“Come with me.” Jeff holds out a hand, but Abed doesn’t take it. He shakes his head.
“I’m going to stay out here.”
“Why?” Jeff sits down on the ground and puts a hand on Abed’s back.
“Because the outside feels how my inside feels.” He pulls the sleeve of his hoodie over his hand and wipes some of the water off of his face.
“Did something happen, Abed?”
Jeff feels Abed’s back stiffen under his hand and thinks, Well, that answers that.
Abed brings his fists down to his thighs and hits them a few times.
“I got a phone call on my way here,” he says.
“A phone call from who?”
Abed takes a long pause, and when he finally answers, he speaks too quietly for Jeff to understand.
“Who?” Jeff presses, leaning closer.
“My mom,” Abed repeats, and this time it's loud enough.
“Why did she call you?”
“I can’t—” Abed begins to wring his hands. “I can’t talk about it right now. It’s too— I can’t— She—” He reaches under his hood and starts to pull on his hair.
“Hey,” Jeff interrupts, his voice soft. “Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it right now.” He sets the umbrella down and reaches for Abed’s hands, untangling them from his wet curls and holding them in his own.
Jeff scoots forward so their knees are touching, and then he leans forward and rests his own forehead against Abed’s. They sit like that, silently, while the storm continues and soaks them through. Abed’s face is wet from the rain, but Jeff can tell he’s still crying.
After several minutes, Abed lets go of Jeff’s hands and reorients himself so he’s next to him, laying his head down on Jeff’s shoulder. Jeff puts an arm around Abed and pulls him close, and they stay in that position for a long time, Abed shaking under Jeff’s strong arm.
When the rain finally starts to let up, Abed lets out a breath, almost seeming to deflate against Jeff.
“I’m ready to go in, I think,” he says.
Jeff stands up and then reaches to help Abed to his feet. Both of them are soaked, the umbrella laying long-forgotten a few feet away. Abed sways back and forth a little once he’s standing, and Jeff keeps a protective arm around his waist, keeping him upright. Then they head inside.
Abed waits in the foyer while Jeff grabs some towels and dry clothes for both of them. He closes the curtains in the living room and he and Abed change right there, leaving their clothes in a wet pile that Jeff then carries off to the washer.
His sweatpants are too long for Abed, so he rolls them up at the ankles, and the sweatshirt hangs off his frame. Abed sits down on the couch while he towels off his hair, leaving it fluffed out every which way.
Jeff brings over a soft blanket and wraps it around Abed's shoulders, and then he goes to the kitchen and emerges a short time later with two cups of tea, which he sets on the coffee table. He sits down on the couch and pulls Abed into his arms.
He doesn't say a word, just holds Abed close and hopes he feels loved. Hopes he feels safe. He kisses the top of Abed's head, his hair still a little damp. And he waits.
"She never calls me," Abed finally says, his voice hoarse with emotion. "That's why I answered. I figured it must be important."
Jeff squeezes Abed even closer but doesn't say anything.
"She moved to Arizona," Abed says. "Three months ago. She moved three months ago and she's just telling me now."
"That's—" Jeff begins, but Abed interrupts him.
"They moved because my half-brother keeps getting sick, and the doctors suggested that the change in climate might help." Abed takes a deep, shuddering breath. “She took her son to a bunch of doctors. Who suggested they move. And that’s what she decided to do.”
He burrows into Jeff’s side, and Jeff pulls the blanket tighter around him. Abed’s whole body is trembling.
“She took me to a bunch of doctors,” Abed continues, his voice wobbly and uncertain. “When I was his age, she took me to all kinds of specialists. I don’t know what they suggested. I have a feeling it wasn’t for her to leave me forever. But that’s what she chose to do.”
Tears spill out of both of his eyes and down his cheeks. He makes no move to wipe them away. Jeff brushes them away for him, with his thumb, and then kisses the top of his head again. He’s not sure if he should speak, or what he would even say. But then Abed twists around so he’s looking at Jeff, and he wraps his arms around himself, like maybe he’s trying to hold himself together.
“I don’t really know what happened after we hung up. I remember walking down the sidewalk and talking to her, and then the next thing I remember I was on the ground by your place and it was raining.”
Jeff frowns. “Has that kind of thing happened to you before?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Abed says faintly.
“Often?”
“I don’t know,” says Abed. “I try to ignore it when it happens. Sometimes it’s different. Sometimes I can see what’s happening, but I don’t feel like I have any control over it. Like I’m watching myself. That’s worse, I think.” His breath is quick and shallow now. He asks, “Could you do me a favor?”
“Anything,” Jeff says.
“Could you squeeze me as tight as you can? And just...hold me like that for a little while?”
Jeff opens his arms and Abed crawls back into them. He presses his face into Jeff’s chest and Jeff holds him so, so tight.
They stay that way until Abed begins to take regular breaths, until he relaxes and sits back and uses his shirt to wipe off his face. He looks at Jeff, but he won’t meet his eye.
“I’m so sorry,” Abed says. “I can’t— I didn’t mean—” He shakes his head, as though that will dislodge the words from his mouth. “I’m so embarrassed,” he finally mumbles. “Can we forget this ever happened?”
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” Jeff assures him.
“I do, though,” Abed argues. “I can’t believe I’m falling apart because I’m…because I’m jealous of a kid I’ve never even met? I should be over this by now. Over her, and her— her nonsense.”
He makes a fist with his right hand and then brings it up to his mouth and bites it. Jeff gently takes it in his own hand and pulls it away from his mouth. Abed immediately starts chewing on his lip instead, so Jeff leans in and kisses him, tries to distract him. He pulls back and puts a hand on Abed’s cheek.
“It’s okay to feel how you’re feeling,” Jeff says. “You deserved so much more than what she gave you. And it’s great that she’s decided to be a dedicated mother now, but it sucks that you didn’t get that. It’s not fair. And you’re allowed to feel hurt about that. It is nonsense, what she’s done.”
Abed doesn’t respond, he just closes his eyes and lays his head against Jeff’s chest.
“Also,” Jeff adds. “It's pretty fucked up that she waited three months to tell you that she moved. How hard is it to pick up a goddamn phone?"
Abed nods hesitantly.
“She did the same thing when my little brother was born,” he says. “He was a few months old before she thought to call me and say, hey, by the way, I have a new husband and we have a child together.”
“Jesus, Abed.”
"So I'm not being crazy, then?" Abed asks gingerly, his voice muffled against Jeff’s shirt. "I'm not overreacting?"
“Absolutely not,” Jeff replies, pulling Abed closer and running a hand through his hair. "Besides, how many times have you had to talk me down when I was upset about my father? And anyway, I think this is the first time we’ve really talked about your mom since that Christmas a few years ago."
Abed closes his eyes and nods.
"It's usually when I have to think about her that it happens," he says. "That I lose time, or lose my grip on myself. Sometimes it's other things...but it's usually her."
Jeff rubs Abed's back and then reaches toward the coffee table and picks up one of the mugs of tea. He hands it to Abed, then picks up the second one for himself and takes a sip. Abed holds his mug with both hands, and Jeff can see that they're still trembling a little.
Jeff takes another sip of tea, savoring how the warmth moves through his body, and watches Abed, who is staring into his mug. After a moment, Abed sets the mug back on the table and then slides off the couch so that he’s sitting on the floor. He snuggles himself up to Jeff's leg and pulls the blanket up over his head, and then he starts to rock slowly forward and back.
Jeff knows to let Abed be when he does this, when he starts to feel too much and needs a little break to regroup. Jeff knows to give him space, and trust that he'll come out when he's ready. And so that's what he does, slowly sipping his tea and putting M*A*S*H on the TV with the volume down low because he knows Abed finds that comforting.
An episode and a half later, Abed stops rocking and lets the blanket fall to the floor. He moves back up to the couch and then climbs into Jeff's lap, his legs on either side of Jeff's hips. He kisses Jeff on his neck, then his jaw, then his mouth, and one of Jeff’s hands comes up to cradle the back of Abed’s head. Abed kisses him again, and this time he opens his mouth, and Jeff does too, and the kiss turns heated and intense.
They kiss until Abed’s body has become flush with Jeff’s, until Jeff makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, until their lips are red and swollen.
“Are you sure this is okay?” Jeff murmurs, pulling away slightly. “I mean, are you up for this?”
“Yes,” Abed breathes. “Please don’t stop. This is the perfect distraction. Kiss me forever.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Jeff says, grinning, and leans back in.