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Detective McQueen knew that sometimes he was oblivious to the things which should’ve been obvious. He didn’t find clues until it was much too late, he missed obvious hints towards malevolent acts, and more than once he’d left cases unsolved for months before coming back and solving them in a matter of hours.
Even with all that, though, he was still doing better than Dooley. At least McQueen knew that they were married.
It went like this: the two were in the middle of a pile of paperwork after wrapping up their latest darkside case. It had been a long, exhausting case and all McQueen wanted was to go home and sprawl across his bed with Dooley at his side. Even after their wedding, they hadn’t actually gotten around to moving in together, though with all that Dooley kept bringing up his sister’s fussing and Buzz’s antics, McQueen was starting to think that he was hinting it was time. Still, it was always nice spending the night together.
He twisted his ring and leaned back in his seat, yawning. He spared a glance over at Dooley who seemed to have abandoned his pile of paperwork in favour of scowling at a Tamagotchi, clasped in his hands with an iron grip. Despite the fact that Dooley was clearly slacking on his share of the work, it was difficult to see that and not smile fondly. He had married a good one.
There were a great many things to love about Patrick Dooley. His youthfulness, which to some appeared more like a weakness, made him kind, made him candid with his feelings in a way that always made the detective feel loved and adored. Of his nearly forty years of life, he’d shared most of them with Dooley, and each day with him felt like a blessing. The years of pining had made way for a beautiful relationship built on mutual trust and communication, he thought.
He was, unfortunately, incorrect.
When Dooley’s Tamagotchi – inevitably – died, he set it aside and looked back up at McQueen.
“Any plans tonight?”
“Not really,” shrugged McQueen, and though he did his best not to sound too eager, he felt that he failed significantly. “You?”
“I thought I might go drinking,” said Dooley thoughtfully. “I haven’t met anyone nice in a while. I think it would be nice to go on a date or two.”
McQueen paused. “Was… Was that a hint?”
“What do you mean?” Dooley twisted the Tamagotchi round and round in his hand. “What’s the hint?”
“Well, that you want me to take you on more dates?”
“Nah.” Dooley waved him off. “I meant actual dates, not friend dates.”
McQueen narrowed his eyes at his husband. “Yes, exactly?”
“No,” said Dooley slowly, as though McQueen were being obtuse. “You and I go on friend dates. And partake in friendly handholding, and friendly cuddling and, on occasion, friendly hookups.”
“No,” said McQueen, bracing his hands against the desk. “We do those things romantically. Because we’re married.”
Dooley blinked twice at him. “We’re what?”
McQueen wiggled his left hand at Dooley, showing off the gold band there. “What the fuck did you think you were marrying me for?”
“When did we get married?”
A sick, sinking feeling filled McQueen’s guts. “We married back in May, Dooley.”
“No,” said Dooley slowly, though this time he seemed less sure, “no, that was a friendship ceremony. You know… Like friends do? Best friends? Because we’re best friends?”
“We’re husbands, Dooley,” said McQueen though his voice broke halfway through his name and he was mere seconds away from breaking down into shuddering sobs. “We’ve been together for the last six years?”
“I think I would remember if we were dating.” Dooley leaned back, tapping at his chin. “We’ve never kissed.”
“Yes, we have.”
“Okay, well…” He frowned. “Neither of us have ever proposed.”
“What else did you think I was getting down on one knee for?” McQueen threw his hands up in the air.
Dooley tilted his head to one side. “So why was there no honeymoon?”
“There was,” said McQueen. “We spent two weeks in Ireland. We fucked, like, every night?”
“Sometimes bros just need to help a bro out.”
There it was. A single sob broke out and Dooley’s face fell.
“We’re really married?” Instead of shock, McQueen thought that Dooley now sounded awed, reverent, at the possibility of their truth. “Really really?”
“Really really,” said McQueen, sniffing. “You really didn’t know?”
Dooley shook his head, shuffling in his seat. “No.”
“Well.”
A thick silence fell over the room. Dooley tapped his Tamagotchi against the desktop and then slid it into his pocket.
“Okay,” he said. “Then it was a hint. You don’t take me on enough dates.”
McQueen smiled weakly. “No?”
“No,” said Dooley haughtily. “Whenever I imagined the two of us being in a relationship, I imagined being wined-and-dined. Flowers at the door, chocolate covered strawberries.”
McQueen rested his chin in his palm, hiding a smile behind his fingers. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” Dooley nodded. “And you need to meet my sister as my husband.”
“Dooley,” said McQueen, shaking his head fondly, “she was at our wedding. She’s been referring to me as her brother-in-law ever since. How did you not notice?”
Dooley shrugged. “Probably too caught up in the fact that your coat covers your arse way more than I’m happy with.”
McQueen flushed. “You didn’t even realise we were married until just now.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m blind.” Dooley leaned back, eyeing McQueen up and down. “I’d have to be blind not to admire your arse. Well,” he added, “blind or straight.”
McQueen shuddered. “God forbid.”
Dooley reached out and took McQueen’s hand in his, brushing his lips against the backs of his fingers and pressing a firm kiss over his ring. In one sharp movement, he’d clambered to his feet and tugged McQueen up with him.
“Okay, let’s go.”
“Go?”
Dooley nodded. “Apparently, I’ve been neglecting my husbandly duties and that simply will not do, so I’m going to show off my hot husband, then we’re gonna go on the best date there’s ever been, and then we’re gonna go home and I’m gonna show my husband exactly how hot he is. Several times.”
McQueen flushed for a minute at the innuendo, glancing down at the desk to avoid Dooley’s heated gaze and letting his eyes fall upon the still-unfinished paperwork.
“Wait, we still need to finish-”
Dooley pulled him out of the room. “Nope! I am a terrible husband and must now make up for it!”
“Is this just an excuse to get out of paperwork?” Silence. “Dooley?” More silence. “Dooley!”
Dooley didn’t slow down, but McQueen finally decided to go with it. The paperwork could wait until the morning anyway.