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It was a rare calm moment. They were sitting on the floor of the Dreamatorium, having finished acting out an episode of Inspector Spacetime. There was barely an inch between them.
“That was fun,” Troy laughed. Abed smiled and nodded. “Next time we should do episode fourteen. I love that episode.”
“It’s a very good episode,” Abed agreed.
“I know, right!” he exclaimed. “Reggie finally gets some action and the Inspector cheers him on! And then after they go out for ice cream.” He gasped. “We should go out for ice cream when we do that episode!”
“Cool cool cool.” Troy was smiling. Abed smiled back.
There was a brief lull of silence as both of them basked in each other’s presence. Abed looked at Troy. They were very close together.
“I love playing in the Dreamatorium with you, Abed,” Troy said. He turned his head, and they made eye contact for a second before Abed looked away.
“I love playing with you too, Troy,” said Abed. There was a moment where they both just stared at each other’s faces. And Abed knew what had to happen next.
He leaned forward, put his hand on Troy’s chin, and kissed him on the lips.
Abed had a legendary imagination, but the feeling of kissing Troy was beyond it.
The kiss was tantalizingly short, and they pulled away after only a few seconds. Troy looked at Abed, eyes as wide as they’d been when he met Levar Burton.
“Abed--”
“Troy.”
“Abed, I-- We--” He cut himself off, scrambling backwards, pushing himself away using Abed’s shoulders. Abed fell back on his hands. “Shit, sorry, I--”
“Troy,” said Abed breathlessly, looking up at Troy as he stood up. Troy was breathing too quickly.
He ran out of the room without another word, leaving Abed alone in the Dreamatorium.
-----
Abed hated the kiss-and-run trope.
He never understood it when it showed up in movies. Why didn’t the characters just stay and talk it out? Had they never seen a movie? Did they not know the kind of misunderstanding that caused? Abed didn’t like it when conflicts could be fixed by a simple conversation. He’d never been able to comprehend why someone would run away from the person they’d just kissed, especially if they were really in love. Why would they hurt the other person like that?
Now that he’d been the victim of a kiss-and-run, he was more confused than ever.
He didn’t know how long he sat in the Dreamatorium, catching his breath, staring off into space. Turning over the events of what just happened in his brain. Wondering if Troy hated him now. But eventually, he got up. He had to talk to Troy eventually. Whether or not it was the last time.
(Were they still friends? If they weren’t, was it a move up or down? Abed didn’t know if he could take the answer.)
He stepped carefully out of the Dreamatorium. Troy was sitting at the dinner table looking like he was holding in tears. Abed sat down next to him, staring at his hands, fidgeting in his lap.
“Sorry I kissed you without warning,” he started. “I should have asked.”
Troy said nothing. He sniffled, still trying to avoid crying.
“I want you to know that I don’t regret the actual kissing part, though,” Abed continued. Troy didn’t answer. “I hate it when movies do that thing where two characters kiss and then one of them apologizes and character B assumes it’s because A doesn’t love them but actually it’s because they think B doesn’t love them and then there’s this huge misunderstanding. Because it’s a huge drag and could be fixed by a single conversation.”
Troy stayed silent. Abed watched his face for a reaction.
“So here’s the single conversation,” Abed finished.
Troy finally lost the battle with his tears. He sobbed. “I’m-- I-- I love you, Abed.”
“I love you too,” he said quietly. They looked at each other, and Abed studied the tear tracks on Troy’s face. He stepped closer. “Can I kiss you?”
Troy answered by leaning forward and pressing his lips to Abed’s.
When they pulled away, Troy was blushing so hard that it was visible. “Y-you’re a really good kisser,” he said.
“I know,” Abed replied simply.
There was silence. Their faces were still very close together.
“Are we still friends?” Troy whispered.
“I’m not sure,” said Abed, matching Troy’s volume. He leaned his forehead against Troy’s.
“Does kissing make us gay?”
“I think so.”
“Does--Does that mean we’re boyfriends?”
“Do you want it to?”
“Yes.”
“Then I guess we are.”
Troy smiled. Abed smiled back. Troy separated their foreheads, leaning back into his chair. “I’m glad,” he said.
“Me too,” said Abed.
They did their handshake. And everything was okay.