In romantic comedies, proposals were grand gestures; people drew their names in the sky and bought huge amounts of balloons and celebrated before the person even said yes. But then, Abed knew he wasn't in a romantic comedy.

Sitcoms were different; proposals were usually very quiet until they weren't. Abed had spent most of his life thinking that he was just an extra in an existentialist arthouse film, but for the past three years he had fallen straight into something off of late night NBC and he felt like keeping it within that spirit, because he was sure if his genre hadn't changed, he wouldn't have ever gotten any plotline at all.

So when Troy cozied up next to Abed in the blanket fort and drooled half asleep on his shoulder throughout most of their 34th rewatching of A New Hope, Abed thought about how before they met, Troy had never even seen any of the Star Wars movies, and how only Troy would attempt to cuddle a computer and assume that its lack of movement meant that it loved him back just as deeply, never even considering whether or not that was even possible-

"What are you thinking about?"

The sound was muffled; Troy hadn't bothered to move and was talking into Abed. Abed could feel his faint stubble moving against his upper arm.

"We should get married," said Abed matter-of-factly.

Troy yawned; his breath was hot on Abed's skin.

"Ok, buddy," he said as he pulled Abed in a bit closer. Abed gave Troy a small smile.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked.

"Someone on youtube built a Lego Death Star and destroyed it and it was dope, but the set cost like 400 dollars. I was thinking maybe we could build one out of cardboard-"

"And instead of buying mini people for it we could give handmade cardboard costumes to large black jellybeans."

"Get out of my brain," said Troy. He curved his mouth up at Abed, but the smile didn't last long before it was replaced by a wrinkled forehead and a wrinkled brain.
"Wait, did you say, married?"

Abed nodded. Troy blinked hard for a few moments before he leaned over from where he was sitting and rolled on top of Abed. He buried his face in the crook of Abed's neck and said,

"Well then I guess we can put the Lego Death Star on our registry."


Notes:

There actually is a video on youtube where they destroy the Lego Death Star, but in my mind that is not the one that Troy watched. I really thought an exact scene by scene Lego reenactment existed but apparently it does not, so instead here you just basically have two guys realizing too late they mixed up the pieces to one thousand dollars worth of Star Wars Legos.

watch?v=zNvq19Ikukw

The real Lego Star Wars Death Star costs $399.99, which is obviously much more expensive than cardboard and jelly beans.

Thanks to anonymouslyyours for kicking ideas around for this with me!