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The credits start rolling. Troy buries his face into his designated Movie Handkerchief™ and tightens his grip on Abed’s hand, which is clutched to his chest, close to his heart.
There was no point in pretending he wouldn’t sob through the denouement. But Luca leaving on the train... the hug... the long-distance phone calls. It just gets to him, okay? It’s their movie for a reason. It isn’t a perfect parallel, but it hits close enough to home for it to leave Troy gasping for air every time.
He takes a deep breath and tries to think through the cloud of his emotions.
It doesn’t make sense to him sometimes.
He knows how this movie ends. The audience doesn’t see it, but it’s implied that they come back to each other. He knows that Luca travels to an unknown land and learns more about the world—more about himself—than he could ever imagine. And through it all, he has a trusty companion, and a direct line to home. It shouldn’t hurt so much, watching Luca and Alberto embrace each other tightly, Luca’s shorter height lending itself perfectly to slotting his face into the curve of Alberto’s neck. Alberto running after the train, eyes watering and locked with Luca’s until the train disappears through a tunnel. The montage of Luca’s overseas adventures and Alberto’s homemade shenanigans is interspersed with scenes of them reading each other’s letters and talking on the phone. It’s playing right now while the credits roll so he knows it turns out okay. Well, he’s pretty sure it turns out okay.
It has to, right? Luca will come home next summer, right? And every summer after that? He’s not going to just leave Alberto at home while he’s off exploring the new world for an indetermined amount of time with no indication of when he’ll come home and fuck, what if he gets kidnapped by pirates, Italy has pirates, right, what if no one comes to save him and he never goes home to Alberto and –
Stop, he thinks to himself, firmly. It’s okay, you’re okay. The voice in his head is soothing and oddly enough, sounds vaguely like LeVar Burton, but it does the trick. Troy takes another deep breath, and tries to convince himself it’s okay, you’re okay, you did come home, it’s okay.
He hears Abed call his name softly—it’s flat but low in pitch and volume and Troy knows that it’s loaded with affection.
That triggers a fresh wave of tears, and he lets go of Abed’s hand to lean his elbows on his knees and sob hard into the handkerchief. He feels a firm pressure on his spine, sweeping up and down his back. He registers a gross loud noise that seems to come from somewhere in the back of the theater. It conjures the image of a pretty blonde hacking her smokey lungs out.
Oh, fuck. Right. Okay. Get it together, Barnes.
He takes another deep breath. He sits back up, wiping at his wet cheekbones, and glances up at the screen. The main colorful illustrations just finished which means he has around seven minutes to get his shit together. He quickly blows his nose before stuffing the handkerchief in his pocket.
He feels Abed’s hand leave its steady position in the middle of Troy’s back before a bottle of water comes into his field of vision and is pushed gently into his hands. He shoots Abed a grateful little smile before gulping down half the bottle.
He replaces the bottle in the cupholder in the armrest between them. Abed’s hand is resting there, facing up, an open invitation to hold his hand, and Troy has never been one to resist a good handholding. A thrill shoots through him every time he’s reminded that he gets to do this. He gets to hold hands with the best person he knows, in public, without fear or confusion or any other emotion that caused Troy’s brain to wrinkle in high school whenever he dared to think about another man.
A sense of calm settles over him. He gives Abed’s hand a gentle squeeze.
A few people pass in front of them on their way out of the theater. He turns to look at Abed, because he knows what’s coming, and surely enough, his boyfriend is giving them the stink-eye. This kicks off Abed’s well-rehearsed tangent about how hard it is to put together a movie, let alone an animated movie, let alone a good animated movie, and how the people behind the scenes deserved to be recognized for their hard work and skills too, and the least audience members can do is sit through the rolling list of names of everyone who contributed to the art they just consumed. Troy is all too familiar with this monologue, and of course he agrees whole-heartedly, but there’s really only so many times you can hear the same hot take before it gets burned into your brain.
So really, no one can blame him when he turns to look at Abed and his brain cuts the audio to focus in on the frankly gorgeous visual in front of him.
It’s actually unfair how good Abed looks under the teal glow of the credits rolling down the movie screen. He’s started to grow his hair out a little, enough that, to Troy’s delight, it curls at the tips. He moves his gaze lower, smiling at Abed’s furrowed, indignant brows over his (gentle, mysterious) eyes. He pauses when he gets to the scar at the top of his nose, and resists the urge to lean in to kiss it. He continues his scan of Abed’s profile down to his lips, and okay, that’s actually really really unfair. No lips should look so soft and kissable when they’re angrily ranting about respecting artistic creation and giving credit where credit is due. Troy moves an inch closer to where Abed’s lips are forming his name when he feels a sharp pressure from where his boyfriend just squeezed his hand. The audio in his brain kicks in again.
“Troy. Something’s happening.”
Abed’s eyes are wide, and his mouth is a flat line. Troy’s heart skips a beat before it starts racing. He’d be concerned about his heart rate if this wasn’t a regular occurrence every time Abed so much as looked at him. He looks up at the screen as the scene opens on a big boat in middle of the ocean at night.
Either the movie theater just turned on every heater in the building or Troy’s starting to sweat. He lets go of Abed’s hand to wipe his palms on his jeans, then tucks his hands under his thighs in an attempt to steady them. A rush of adrenaline goes straight to his brain, and he feels slightly dizzy, even as he opens his mouth to explain.
“Hmm? Oh yeah, I heard there’s a different end credit scene for the special anniversary release, or something.” His voice comes out surprisingly steady for someone who is experiencing all the symptoms of being on a loop-de-loop rollercoaster while sitting in his stationary seat.
“That doesn’t make any sense. It’s just Tuesday, there’s no special anniversary.”
Troy’s heartrate spikes, voice pitching high as he scrambles to find an explanation. “Uhm… is there not?… wow that’s really craz—”
He’s saved from having to come up with an answer on the fly (which everyone knows he’s bad at, he doesn’t understand why people put him on the spot like this) when his boyfriend shushes him. Abed leans forward in his seat, paying close attention to the screen.
--
The character on screen is clearly modeled after Luca, but it’s not quite the same—his skin is darker, his hair is black, and he’s sporting a little curly beard. He’s also wearing a sailor’s cap. Animated Troy is sitting on the deck, body twisted to lean against the railing, and staring up at the comically large full moon. An instrumental version of Somewhere Out There fades in, and Troy lets out a dreamy sigh.
Off screen, a strange noise starts to blare like an alarm, followed by a flashing bright light. Troy turns to see a red phonebooth materialize out of nowhere onto the deck. The door is thrown open to reveal another character, features darker and sharper than Alberto, but undeniably a likeness to Abed. He is dressed in a fluffy robe, a red ascot, and a bowler hat.
Inspector! What are you doing here? reads the closed caption at the bottom of the screen.
Don’t you mean ‘when am I doing here?’ The Inspector stands grandly with his hands on his hips and shoots him a cheeky grin. Troy seems to be at a loss for words and stares at the Inspector with his disproportionately huge, shiny eyes.
Abed drops his hands to his sides. You were out there somewhere. I had to come find you.
Troy’s eyes fill with tears. He falls over himself as he rushes to give Abed a hug.
The background music crescendos.
They hang on tight for a few seconds before breaking their embrace to look each other in the eyes. They stay close, hands gripping elbows and lower backs, unwilling to let distance come between them again.
Troy’s hand slides down to grip Abed’s, and he slips into a character he knows well. Why Inspector, I do believe it’s time for our next grand adventure!
The Inspector grins at him. And what would that be, Constable Reggie?
--
Troy stands up and turns to face Abed just as the screen cuts to black. The lights come up to a soft dim. Abed’s eyes are wide and he’s breathing quickly.
He lets out a short high-pitched whine as Troy drops to one knee.
“Abed, I—”
“Are you proposing marriage to me? My answer is yes.”
Troy can’t help the big goofy grin that blooms on his face. “You have to let me ask first.”
“But you are, right? You’re on one knee and those characters in the end credit scene looked like us so that’s a big romantic gesture. All that’s missing is the ring.”
Troy reaches into his pocket and pulls out a sleek, black ring box. “You have to let me monologue first, or I’m not going to show it to you.”
They both know that’s a lie but Abed mimes zipping his mouth shut anyway, locks it and pockets the imaginary key. He folds his hands into his lap and looks intently at Troy.
Troy takes a quick deep breath and opens the ring box.
“Abed,” he starts. His audio seems to cut out again. He can’t hear himself speak but he knows his lips are moving, voice strong and sure, his muscle memory taking over to recite the speech he practiced in the mirror a gazillion times. He can’t take his eyes off Abed. He thinks briefly that he should pay attention to what he’s saying but he zeros in on Abed’s eyes crinkling at the corners and he knows it’s a lost cause.
His brain seems to know that his speech is wrapping up and the audio cuts in again. He hears himself finish, “You’re the person I want to watch TV with for the rest of my life. Will you live happily ever after with me?”
Abed pulls the imaginary key out of his pocket, unlocking and unzipping his mouth. The left corner of his mouth twitches slightly upwards and his eyes shine as he glances at the ring and then back at Troy.
“Yes.” He extends his left hand out to Troy, who fumbles with the box and almost drops it in his hurry to take the ring out. “That was a great monologue, by the way. You’re the most likeable leading man.”
Troy slips the ring onto his fourth finger, and finally initiates the kiss lean he’s been waiting for all night. Abed meets him in the middle, bringing his left hand to rest on Troy’s face, his thumb sweeping across his cheekbone. It’s not the best kiss, technique-wise, since they seem to have lost control of their facial muscles and cannot stop grinning for the life of them. But still, Troy can’t help but think as he and Abed stand and he snakes his arm around his skinny waist to hold him closer, it’s the best kiss.
The theater erupts into cheers behind them, and someone must be doing a routine light switch check because the lights start flickering at an alarming rate.
Abed breaks the kiss to turn in Troy’s arms, coming face to face with all of their friends and family. The Study Group hoots and hollers in the back row. Chang is making a suggestive gesture that Frankie smacks at with a prop she steals from Craig’s elaborate rainbow costume. He can tell Abed is scanning the seats for his father, who is already scrambling towards them with his arms spread open.
Gubi wraps them both in a big hug, resting his chin on Abed’s shoulder. Abed locks eyes with Troy over his father’s back as they both return the hug and warmth spreads through Troy’s chest. Gubi pulls back to say something to Abed in Arabic, turning his body to give his full attention to his newly-engaged son. Troy takes a small step to the side to give them their moment and immediately finds himself with an armful of Annie.
She’s squealing something incomprehensible, but Troy feels the love anyway. He grins at the rest of the study group over Annie’s shoulder.
“Hell-oo, some of us would like to congratulate our boys too-ooo.” Shirley clears her throat pointedly before dropping her voice down several octaves, “so move or you will be moved.”
Annie lets out her typical indignant gasp, only to receive a synchronized, mocking gasp in return from the rest of the Study Group. Troy opens his arm and grins at Shirley, who gives the best hugs. She doesn’t disappoint and squeezes him around the middle like a gogurt. Britta piles on from the side, screaming in his ear about how proud she is of them. “You and Abed are the only people I will gladly sell out and betray my gender for.”
Troy’s face must show his immense confusion because she rushes to finish, “I’m gonna use my wicked crazy wedding planning skills to throw you the best wedding on earth! Duh-doy!”
“Would you be able to do a kickpuncher theme wedding? Or actually, an Inspector Space-Time wedding. No wait. A classic Star-Wars theme?”
“Abed!” the girls cry at his sudden appearance. They quickly remove themselves from Troy to dogpile Abed. A noise to his right catches his attention, and Troy turns.
Jeff looks somehow incredibly proud, and incredibly uncomfortable at the same time. Troy waits patiently as Jeff raises his arm to clap him on his shoulder. “You remember that time you tried leaving Abed a voicemail to meet you at the flagpole and I got annoyed and did it for you?”
Troy feels the heat rush to his face and says “Yeah. I ended up sending a text.” He pauses, then smiles. “You called me his girlfriend that day.”
“And now you’re engaged,” Jeff grins like a shark. “You’re welcome.”
Troy rolls his eyes, and shoves Jeff’s arm off his shoulder with a “yeah yeah.” He darts in for a quick hug before Jeff can put up a display of manly protest.
He pulls away after a moment, eyes searching for Abed in the crowd but still facing Jeff. “Thanks for letting us use your shower.” He barks out a laugh at the bug-eyed panicked look on Jeff’s face and makes his escape before Jeff can regain the brain cells to respond to that.
He makes his way over to Abed, coming up behind him to wrap his arms around his waist. Abed stiffens for a second before leaning back into his chest and covering his hands with his own. Troy smothers his immediate grin on the back of his fiancé’s shirt, then hooks his chin over his shoulder.
The little circle Abed and the girls had been standing in has expanded to include the rest of the Save Greendale Committee. There are multiple conversations happening, everyone speaking over each other, and no one actually listening to anything being said. It’s chaotic and unproductive and so very home. Troy’s heart feels like it’s warming up and expanding and vibrating and—
Troy might need to see a cardigan—a Cardi-B— whatever you call the heart doctor. The point is Troy needs to make an appointment soon because he’s a little concerned about the gymnastics routine his heart is going through today.
Abed leans more firmly into his chest and sighs happily. Troy feels his heart do another flip and makes another mental note.
Abed twists in his arms to look at Troy. “Hey. I love you.”
Troy leans in to kiss him.
He pauses right before their lips meet. “I know.”