Chapter Text
You hate to admit it, but for a while, Abed feels like a stranger.
You're not used to seeing him like this. His eyes are sunken and dim, and he no longer speaks at the speed he used to.
Please don’t look at my skin, Troy.
You watch TV with him, make his favorite meals, but it barely seems to register in the other man’s face.
For the most part, he only speaks in questions.
Am I getting in the way?
Did I say the wrong thing?
Is this enough?
You tell him that nothing could make you view him in such a vile way.
He smiles.
It’s a start.
Six nights in, and you find yourselves laying on the couch after your first real kiss together. It had been soft and hearty and both of you were so untrained.
You had both kissed people before, but never with the weight of the world in your hearts.
As it happened, you could hear shouting in your ears (fag! get the pansy-boy!), and it made you feel like you’d been stabbed.
But once you pulled back and looked in the eyes of the one in front of you, oh, none of it mattered.
After all this time, he’s still so beautiful.
You turn on the TV, and gently wrap your arm around Abed's waist. He mumbles.
Please don’t touch me there, Troy. It still hurts.
You graciously withdraw your hand, and can only hear his lips parting.
Then he cries.
And cries and cries and cries.
He asks if you can hold him, and he hiccups out an answer.
Yes, please, just not around my waist. Or arms.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, and let his tears fall warmly on your jacket.
Troy? You’re the reason I’m here. Did you know that?
You nod.
You could say the same thing.