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"I can't believe we're buying our rings online," David grumbled.
Patrick didn't love the idea either — it wasn't exactly romantic — but there was only one jewelry store within three hours of Schitt's Creek. The perils of subrural living. "Mhmm," he said, "and who was it that hated every single ring at the store in Elm Glenn?"
"There were like, eight rings in the entire store, Patrick. And they were all awful."
"Okay, well, this is what we're stuck with, then." Patrick squeezed David's side so he wouldn't take his tone too personally, and David squeaked.
"I like this one," he said instead, pointing at the monitor. They were curled together on Patrick's couch, looking at the website for a boutique in Seattle — David was friendly with the owner, and they'd even discussed selling some of their more affordable and every-day selections at the Apothecary.
"David, that's like three hundred dollars out of our price range. Each."
"Now that my dad is franchising the motel, he could probably help us out…"
"David." Patrick held David by the back of his neck, firm but gentle, and led him to make eye contact. "I don't mind getting help with some of the wedding stuff — in fact, I definitely welcome it — but I really want our rings to be just from us, okay? Even if it means they aren't the fanciest. It's really important to me."
David's eyes darted, uncomfortable as always with that level of frank sincerity. "Okay," he agreed reluctantly. "But we're absolutely not going rose gold, Patrick. I mean it."
"Aw, I think it would be sweet," Patrick teased.
"It's not about sentiment, it's about being fucking ugly."
They scrolled for a bit, pointing out different rings, rejecting them for various reasons — most of David's first choices could eat three of their mortgage payments, and most of Patrick's first choices simply offended David's aesthetic sensibilities.
Finally Patrick pulled up the description of one that, David had to admit, was nice if nothing flashy, and just barely in their price range. "What about this one?"
"…It's pretty," David admitted grudgingly. "For me or you?"
Patrick looped his arm around David's shoulder and squeezed him close. "How about both?"
"The same one?"
Patrick took David's left hand and held it to his lips for just a moment. "I love seeing my rings on your fingers," he said, soft and a little awkward, trying to explain himself. "I love that you're someone who can wear four engagement rings, and I love the way it feels to know that I put them there, and I know you've asked if I want one, this isn't about that —" He twisted one of David's rings around. "But it would…I would love to match. I would love for people to look at us and know for sure that we're married to each other. That we…belong to each other, you know?"
David bit his lip, twisting away. "Okay," he said softly, "are you sure you want to advertise that you're with me at all times?"
"Oh, well, I hadn't thought of that," Patrick said. "I'll just have to take it off when you act like your mother in restaurants, so no one can tell I know you." David pulled back to glare at him, and Patrick laughed as gently as he could. "David, I could not be more proud to be marrying you, okay? If anything, you'll have to stop me from going up to strangers and announcing that you're my husband. I want everyone to know." He paused. "I mean. Unless you don't…"
"Okay, stop." David pressed a finger to Patrick's lips with a dramatic flourish; his eyes were tilted up in the way that always meant he was doing the hard work of not crying. "Obviously I want everyone to know you married me. That's not a problem at all."
"And matching rings aren't tacky?" Patrick tried to hide his teasing smile, tucking the corners of his mouth down, like that had ever fooled David.
"Okay," David said again. "They probably would be, on other couples? But I think it will actually be a really good look for us."
"It will?" Patrick beamed. "So that's a yes?"
"Yeah, I mean…" David rolled his eyes at his own onslaught of emotion. "Matching rings were never in my dream book, or anything, but I think that I would also love it. For all those reasons you said. So."
"David…" Patrick beamed at him. "Thank you."
David rolled his eyes again but smiled back, and leaned on Patrick's shoulder. "Okay. Let's order them."
It occurred to David that there was nothing particularly climactic about putting the rings in the cart, inputting their sizes, inputting Patrick's credit card information. It didn't feel any different from any other online shopping; he was disappointed by it, he admitted to himself. And then he was disappointed in himself for being disappointed with the experience of buying wedding rings.
And then Patrick shut his laptop with a sharp click, and cupped the back of David's neck like he'd been doing their entire relationship and pulled David in for a kiss. "That felt kind of anticlimactic, not gonna lie," Patrick said when they parted. "The — buying the rings, I mean. It feels the same as watching you buy a sweater. I'm a little disappointed."
David felt himself smiling as he pulled Patrick in for another kiss.