Archive of Our Own ^beta

Neil, technically, has been planning his proposal to Todd for three months now. Truth be told, he’s had ideas for this very proposal since they were just dumb teenagers in love; he’s wanted to marry Todd for longer than is probably logical. 

And now, it’s exactly three days before he’s going to propose to Todd Anderson.

“So, when are you gonna do it?” Knox asks him over lunch. Charlie has known about his plan to propose to Todd since Neil bought the goddamn ring, but Knox has only just found out when Charlie let it slip. Neil should have known telling Charlie was the same as telling both of them.

“I was going to make dinner for him at home—“

“Ah— make dinner ,” Charlie says, wiggling his eyebrows at Neil.

“No, not like that,” Neil says quickly. He paused for a moment and looks away. “Probably.”

This makes both Knox and Charlie laugh.

“Anyway,” he continues. “Now he wants to go out to eat on Friday so maybe I’ll take him on a walk around the city or something— I don’t know. I feel like I’ll know. When the perfect timing comes, I’ll just know , and I’ll pull out the ring and get on one knee and I tell him how much I love him and how being apart from him is more painful than anything I’ve ever experienced and that marriage is a societal scam but goddamn do I want it with him. That he is worth it. Worth everything.”

“That’s—” Knox says, after a moment. “I mean fuck, Neil. You’ve really thought about this.”

Neil nods because it’s true. It’s a speech he’s practiced in the mirror a hundred times over. A decision he made years ago.

“So three days from now?”

He nods. “Yeah. I figured Friday night dinner would be the most romantic setting. He deserves the most romantic setting.”

Todd’s looking for socks early Friday morning, because Todd runs cold and Neil is a monster that likes to keep the apartment at 65 degrees. He’s looking for socks in their tiny apartment, in their single dresser and their shared sock/underwear drawer, and he does find his socks, but he also finds a little box that fits perfectly in the palm of his hand. It's black, with rounded corners and dark velvet. Inside is a ring, a thin silver band with five small, clear gems. Diamonds, maybe quartz. Air solidifies on Todd’s lungs.

An engagement ring.

For him .

His first thought is to put it back and pretend he hasn’t seen it. Pretend that he never found it and just pretend to be surprised whenever Neil pops the question. But Todd’s a shit actor.

So, he decides to opt for option number two; come clean. Confrontation isn’t Todd’s favorite thing but sitting on something this big? Not possible. 

Todd clutches the ring box, the engagement ring box, in his hand as he emerges from their bedroom.

"What's this?"

Neil looks up from his pasta and immediately chokes because in Todd's hand is a ring box. Neil's ring box. Heart starting to panic, Neil searches for an excuse, a lie, something .

"I— listen, Todd. It's not what you think—" Neil starts, still desperately trying to find the words. He can talk his way out of this one. Neil does improv; he can think on his feet. He stands up, taking a step towards Todd but Todd speaks first.

Todd's voice comes out quiet, almost a whisper. His voice is so small.

"I— I want a winter wedding." He’s not looking at Neil, instead, he’s taken the ring out of the box and is turning it over between his fingers. “My sister in law had a summer wedding and stuck everyone outside in the heat for three hours and it was miserable and— and snow’s prettier anyway, and the white and blue theme works really well, you look great in blue, and an indoor wedding can be cheaper too.”

“You’ve thought about this,” Neil says and it’s not a question. Todd has had this on his mind too?

“Yeah, of course I’ve thought about it,” Todd says, voice still tiny. “You’re the love of my life, I’m not gonna not think about marrying you.”

Neil forces his voice past the swell of emotion that the phrase “love of my life” causes. “I wasn’t sure you’d want a wedding at all.”

Todd shrugs.

“You're sure then— you’d want to?”

Todd’s smile is gentle. “Of course I’d want to— it’s you.”

And that’s enough. Neil steps forward and takes the ring. He looks at Todd before gently slipping it onto Todd’s finger. Todd lets out a little breath, like he’s been holding it, and he looks up at Neil to put his arms around Neil’s neck.

“A winter wedding?” Neil asks.

“Yeah. We can see if the church downtown will let us in,” Todd says into his neck. 

“I’ve done some plays down there, they should know me.”

“We can get catering. Cake. Flowers.” 

Neil brushes some of Todd’s hair back. “I want Charlie to be my best man.”

“We can play that song that you’re singing all the time.”

“The Ricky Montgomery one?”

“Yeah.”

Neil rests his forehead against Todd’s and breathes. “Holy shit.”

Todd trembles against him with laughter. “Yeah.”

“I mean holy shit, Todd.” They’re planning their wedding . Their goddamn wedding; Neil is going to marry the love of his life.

“I know.”

“Hey,” Neil says, locking eyes with him. “I’m gonna kiss you. Is that alright?”

“We’re literally getting married,” Todd whispers in response, a faint smile teasing on his lips. Neil laughs and then leans down and kisses him.

Every kiss with Todd is like the first time. Nerves in his stomach but electricity in his chest; he wants to spend the rest of his life kissing Todd over and over. He never wants to forget the way Todd’s mouth feels on his.

It’s not until a little past three in the morning, hours later, that Neil brings it up. They’re cuddled up in their bed, Todd’s head on Neil’s chest, legs tangled. The quiet is peaceful, only soft sounds of breathing and the occasional shift as someone resituates can be heard.

“I never properly asked you to marry me,” Neil says into the darkness. Todd is too quiet and for a moment, Neil thinks he’s fallen asleep.

“Then ask me,” Todd whispers, pulling away to look at Neil.

“Okay,” Neil responds softly. Suddenly he feels nervous, chest tight, even though he knows Todd’s answer will be yes. “Todd Anderson?”

Todd’s eyes have gone a little wider, like even though they both know what’s coming now, it already feels so much more real. “Yes?”

“Will you marry me?”

Todd’s started to tear up a bit and God, Neil always cries whenever Todd cries. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

Todd reaches up to put his hands on Neil’s face, both of them tearful and Neil feels the kick of his nervous but completely wrecked for Todd’s heart as Todd leans forward to kiss him. There are tears dripping ever-so-slightly down Neil’s face, because there’s so much emotion in all of this, and God, he loves Todd with every square inch of himself.

“Why are you crying?” Todd says, tears dripping off his chin. “We technically already went through this.”

“Shut up, you’re ruining my ambiance.”

Todd hums. He draws his fingers across Neil’s face, tracing the planes of his features like a map; stars and hills and valleys. “So— we’re engaged?”

Neil grins. “We’re engaged.”

“I have to tell people.”

“Todd, it’s three in the morning,” Neil laughs, watching Todd. He’s unable to keep his eyes off of him. He’d always be looking at Todd, if he could.

Todd already has his phone out. Neil’s phone on the nightstand buzzes with a message; he sent it to the Poet’s group chat.

engaged

Neil reads the message. “Is that it?”

Todd sends another one.

to Neil

Neil glances at it. “I think they sort of assumed that.”

“Be quiet.”

“Now,” Neil says, reaching out for Todd. “Come back to bed.”

“I’m in bed.”

“Smartass,” Neil snorts. “C’mere.”

Todd puts his phone away and reclaims his place next to Neil. He tucks his head under Neil’s chin and lets Neil’s hands in his hair and heartbeat in his ear lead him gently into the land of sleep.

“I hope you realize what a shitty hiding place our shared drawer is,” Todd says some mornings later, idly watching eggs fry in a pan.

Neil laughs. “Well— I realize that now ,” he says, leaning up against the counter as he watches Todd make work of moving the spatula around the pan. “Where was I supposed to hide it?”

“I don’t know— hide it at Charlie’s or somethin’ ?”

“Well—“ And no, Neil didn’t think about that.

“Or with all of your scripts.”

“In my defense—” Neil tries.

“Or on your snack shelf in the cupboard; it’s a house rule that I don’t touch your snacks.”

“In my defense , Mr. Anderson, I was going to give it to you sooner rather than later, so it was placed somewhere easily accessible.”

“Well, that’s a convenient explanation.”

And Neil is smiling, because this is normal, this is just any other day and it is spectacular, it’s beautiful because it’s Todd. He’s with Todd. “You can be such a smartass sometimes.”
“I’m just being honest.” Todd shrugs. 

“We’re engaged now so does it matter?”

Todd grins. “It was for the best. I think if you had initially asked me outright I would have had to sit down and breathe for a bit before I said yes.”

“But you would have said yes?”

Todd knocks their shoulders together. “Of course. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Fiancé. Todd is Neil’s fiancé. It’s surreal. It’s the kind of truth that feels like it’s been reality for years, for eternity, and yet it feels so new and unknown. He can’t stop twisting the ring on his finger. He’s a little worried he’ll break it. Or lose it. Sometimes, he catches himself running his fingers over the rough stones, the slightly sharp edge of the thin wire that binds them against the metal band. Writing hasn’t helped this dreamlike state. He sits with a pen and paper and stares at the wall and stares at the wall. He’s bursting with color and love and imagination and worry and anxiety and his mind is just so quiet. It’s the kind of loud like no one notices anymore. The hum of traffic, music in a grocery store, conversations in a cafeteria. 

Neil brings him tea without him asking for it and puts his socks somewhere easy to find and always folds the blanket on the couch. He replaces Todd’s dog-eared bookmarks with actual bookmarks, or pressed flowers and leaves. He has a pen ready before Todd realizes he’s even out of ink. He leaves half-full cups in the sink, but always empties the dishwasher. There are pale, paintless spots on the walls where Neil has taped his script up so he can move his hands and read at the same time. He leaves his glasses in Todd’s seat and he can’t count the number of times he’s nearly sat on them. 

And Todd loves him. Fuck, he loves him. He loves the way Neil still tilts cups that have straws in them, he loves the way he folds his shirt, he loves his laugh, his smile, the place in his hair that’s permanently crinkled by his glasses. He loves the wrinkle in his brow that he’s had since sophomore year of college, he loves the burn scar on his thumb from the Quesadilla Incident, he loves and he loves and he loves so much he’s not sure how he walks around everyday carrying this much emotion in him.

Fiancé.  Fiancé. Todd’s a fiancé. And not just anyone’s, he’s Neil’s. He’s going to be Neil’s husband. Till death do they part. It feels like a fairytale. Which is strange for Todd because Todd is more anxious than soft and has never believed in happy endings. But for Todd, Neil is the best ending he could imagine.

Todd’s not a bossy person. He doesn’t have the ability to tell someone when to go, where, and how, but Todd’s the kind of person that will do the same thing three times, just to get it perfect. Poems, readings, signatures.

Wedding preparations.

He had six different kinds of cake and hated them all. He looked at bouquet after bouquet and tossed them aside. He’s stuck on cream versus swiss tablecloths, though maybe they want dove grey. Rainy Sunday? The blue-toned grey would be nice, it would match the theme well, but they’d have to coordinate it with the flowers. Now a Spanish grey table cloth with a pearl napkin would work well. They could get some calla lilies, babies' breath, brunnera for the bouquets. DJs are more expensive than they have any God-given right to be and Todd loves his friends dearly, but he trusts none of them with the music selection for his wedding. Fortunately, the catering was easy, but that was about it.

“Neil,” Todd calls from the kitchen. “Do you want an angle-fold napkin? We can do the classic ring roll, but we’d have to match the rings to the cutlery.”

Neil stumbles into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and hair rumpled. Frankly, he looks half-alive, and not at all fit to be making important decisions like this. “Sure, whatever you think is best.”

Todd frowns. “You’re barely a person right now. Have some coffee and I’ll ask you again.”

“ Todd, honey,” he says, pressing his lips to Todd’s cheek and tangling himself around his shoulders. “Seriously. Whatever you think is best.”

“Let’s go with an angle fold. It’s easy to teach and get help with.”

“Okay. Coffee?”

Todd shakes his head. “Tea?”

“I’ll heat up the kettle.”

Maybe dove grey would be nice with periwinkle. Todd only glances up for a moment to watch a tired Neil work in the kitchen. Wedding planning was stressful, but by God does Todd want to marry that man.

Neil spends most of his time at work thinking about Todd. He knows it’s the newness of the engagement and the spark that Todd lights in his chest, but he swears he tells every coworker that he’s engaged now. He likes how the words feel in his mouth. It amazes him to think that this is his truth now, that this is his life and he’s living it.

Neil has wanted to propose to Todd for ages, and the two of them had talked about marriage, but Neil had always worried he was more on-board than Todd. But now, Todd’s given him the yes and Neil feels excitement like fireworks in his gut.

Todd. The love of his life.

Todd, the fire that never goes out. He loves the way Todd smiles, the one unguarded thing he does, and the way he looks when he's excited. Which he’s been seeing so much more of since Neil proposed. He loves Todd every day more and more, he swears to God, and they just work. Everything about them makes sense in context of each other. Todd is Neil's voice of reason, the head to Neil's heart, and is the fresh breath Neil takes on the bad days. 

So Neil tries his best to help with wedding plans because he loves Todd and he wants them both to have their dream wedding, but Neil seems to care less about the specifics than Todd. Neil wants grand entrances, decorations, glitter, and everything big and loud. Todd frets over the little things, the details. Todd worries over napkin holders and shades of blue and how many forks will be at each table. Todd worries and worries and worries.

Todd’s wedding planning has taken over the entire kitchen table; magazines, notes, photographs of flowers, and cakes. He’s started pinning things to the kitchen wall which gives their place a whole plotting murder vibe except with different shades of roses. (Todd keeps telling Neil they’re not going with roses but frankly, half the flowers he shows Neil look pretty damn similar to roses).

Neil doesn’t care as much about the details. He’d marry him wherever, whenever, no matter what.

There turn out to be other things to worry about other than the wedding basics that Neil doesn’t even consider until Todd brings them up.

“I can’t take your last name,” Todd says from the entryway to their bedroom one afternoon.

Neil looks up from where he’s folding laundry. “Oh, okay.”

“I have two anthologies out. And with the publishing company, it’ll cost so much to recall them and have them change it.”

“Okay.”

“I—”

“Todd,” Neil puts down the sweatshirt he’s holding. “It’s okay.”

“And I know you have plays and stuff, and changing your last name might mess up your profiles and former playbills.”

“Honey. I’m just two years out of college. I haven’t been in anything big enough that will affect me if I change my name. Besides,” he says, bringing Todd’s knuckles to his lips in a dramatic, albeit romantic gesture. “I like the idea of being Neil Anderson.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I don’t much like Perry anyway,” Neil says. “Reminds me too much of my family.”

“Oh.”

“That’s— that’s not the only reason, sweetheart. I like being undeniably yours. Neil Anderson and Todd Anderson. Together forever. Each other’s, forever.”

“Forever.”

“Yeah.”

Todd smiles, soft, warm, happy. “I like Neil Anderson too.”

“Do you have any demands for wedding details?” Todd asks one evening.

Neil tucks further into the warmth of Todd’s body next to him. “Demands?”

He feels Todd start to comb his fingers through Neil’s hair, tugging gently whenever he hits a snag. “Yeah. Anything you think you have to have in our wedding?”

Neil hums. He doesn’t have any demands. He gets to marry Todd, and that’s enough for him. “No demands.”

“Really? What about wants?”

Wants? Neil wants Todd. He wants his friends there. He wants to kiss him on the altar. Those are his real wants. But Todd’s face is tight with concern and stress and so Neil says:

“I want a dramatic entrance ,” Neil stresses the words and it makes Todd laugh.

“And what exactly does that entail?”

“Can I walk down the aisle?”

“Thank god ,” Todd says, face immediately slackening with relief. “I sure as hell don’t want to do it.”

Neil starts to laugh. Because this is why they just work.

“And, and, listen to this, I’m thinking we should leave in a horse-drawn carriage,” Neil says and Todd laughs.

“How many horses? One? Two?”

“Four.”

“Four! That’s a big carriage.”

“Only the best for you.”

Todd snorts. “Who’s going to be the footmen? We need footmen for a carriage that big.”

“We can have Cameron drive the carriage, he took riding lessons as a kid. Knox and Charlie can be the footmen, poor Meeks and Pitts’s arms would snap off if they had to cling to the carriage.”

“So— in your head what exactly is the wedding theme? Cinderella ?”

Neil just shrugs and breaks into laughter. “Hell if I know. I just want a carriage.”

“Where would we get a carriage?”

“Uh,” Neil wrinkles his nose. “They have them around town, right?”

“I don’t think we can rent one of those for the wedding.”

“Now that, that is devastating.”

“Well, I’ll look into places that do car rentals for weddings and let you pick something out.”

“Charlie has a really nice 1960 Ferrari.”

“We should ask him to paint it with the wedding theme and then drive it home.”

“Okay, maybe not the painting part but we can definitely ask to borrow it for the evening.”

Neil drums his fingers against Todd’s chest. “Wanna fuck in the back of Charlie’s really nice 1960 Ferrari?”

Todd’s fingers still in his hair. “Neil. I love you. So much. I do not want to fuck in the back of Charlie’s really nice 1960 Ferrari. Even if it’s with you.”

Neil sighs, heavy and exaggerated. “Ah, well. It is what it is.” He pauses to kiss his fiance on the cheek. “I love you too.”

Neil loves Todd, but for someone with such a soft temperament, he's one stubborn son of a bitch.

“I can't dance," Todd is saying. "And I’m not going to dance at our wedding.”

“Come on, it would be fun! I can waltz— I'll teach you how.”

"Neil—" Todd starts, looking at Neil, a small frown tugging at his lips. "I just— I don't want to make a fool of myself."

“You won’t make a fool of yourself. You’re wonderful,” Neil says, leaning over to press a kiss to Todd’s temple. Charlie makes a retching noise across the table.

“Thank you,” Todd says. “But— I don’t know. I would be, I just— don’t know.”

“Maybe we can think on it a little bit?” Neil offers.

  Todd sighs. “Sure. We’ll come back to it.”

Knox stabs a straw into his milkshake. “Sorry. Wouldn’t have brought the dancing up if it was gonna be a thing for you guys.”

Todd shakes his head. “It’s okay.”

“You didn’t know. We didn’t even know. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Charlie steals a fry from Meeks’s plate, who has the unfortunate experience of sitting next to Charlie (known food thief) during this lunch. “Who’s marrying y’all?”

“Local priest,” Todd says.

“I did shows for their church. They’re friendly people, and it’s a cheap venue,” Neil adds. “And they’re cool with us being— you know.”

Knox raises his eyebrows at them. “Gay as the day is long?”

Neil laughs. “Exactly.”

“You should have Meeks do it,” Cameron suggests, but it doesn’t sound like a joke.

Neil snorts into his orange juice. “Yeah, have him get ordained just for our wedding.”

“He’s already certified,” Pitts says, stirring his chocolate milk with his straw (that they still tease him for drinking because goddamn, he’s a twenty-three-year-old man and he needs to be stopped.)

“What?”

Meeks sighs. “It was a bet. I lost.”

“Hell yeah, you did.” Charlie throws a wadded-up straw wrapper at his head. 

Todd’s perked up by this point. “Wait, so you can actually marry people? Like, together?”

Meeks nods. “I have a certificate and everything.”

The poets whistle and offer commentary like “damn” or “what was the bet” or “maybe I should get married now.”

Neil eyes Todd. “You want that?”

Todd eyes him back. “Is that okay?”

“Okay? We’d get married by one of our closest friends instead of a random stranger, of course, it's okay.” Neil wouldn’t rather be married by anyone else; to be married to his best friend by one of his best friends.

“It would be my honor,” Meeks says. 

Todd grins. “Perfect.”

Todd and Neil have slept together hundreds of times since the two of them started dating senior year of high school and by now, it has a domestic simplicity to it. Stolen moments alone and soft sex has become second nature to Neil, which isn’t to say he doesn’t enjoy it anymore; he does. It’s just that he’s memorized parts of it. What Todd likes. Which way Neil moves will make Todd’s breath catch and his eyes flutter closed. His body leads him naturally; Neil likes to think he’s gotten better at it too. And presently, as Neil guides Todd into his mouth, again and again, he’s pretty sure he’s doing it all right.

Neil understands Todd, what he means from just his body language, which is why when Todd pushes him off, Neil is at a loss. He’s confused. He thinks he’s messed up, done something wrong, but this is strange because this is uncharted territory, and frankly, Todd’s stressed and distant expression is not helping to calm him.

“What’s wrong?”

Todd pushes him away more and starts looking for his boxers. “Nothing, sorry, it just. . . occurred to me. It’s fine, I’ll be back.”

Neil watches him dress hurriedly. “What? Todd, talk to me.”

“It’s fine.” He kisses him quickly on the cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Wh— of course, I’m worried. What’s up?”

“Something occurred to me about the flowers. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

“What? No.”

“Why not?”

“Why— what the fuck, Todd?”

Todd starts down the hall. “What do you mean?”

Neil follows after him down the hall and into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, it’s just, floral arrangements are not what I would be thinking about in the middle of getting a blowjob!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Todd mumbles but he’s not paying attention, already back to looking through his wedding magazines.

“Todd. What’s going on?”

“Just got an idea. Go back to bed, I’ll be right there.”

“Todd.”

“I’m fine, Neil,” he says without Neil even needing to ask the nagging wondering in his mind.

“ Todd. ” Todd looks up at him. “What’s going on, love?” Neil says softly.

“I just,” he swallows. “I just want this to go well, you know? This is supposed to be the happiest day of our lives, right? I want to create a wedding that will go smoothly, a wedding we don’t have to worry about while it’s happening. And I— I want a wedding that will show how much I love you. I want to give you the wedding you deserve. Is that. . . maybe that’s selfish of me.” 

“What are you so nervous about?” Neil asks and Todd turns away.

“I just— I want to be a good husband,” Todd says. “And it’s going to be new and— and I’m already nervous about what that entails.”

“Todd, you’re going to be perfect.” 

“It’s always come easily to you,” Todd says. “This relationship thing. I just— don’t want to fuck it up.”

Todd goes back to the magazines and starts scribbling notes in them. Neil ducks his face in next to Todd’s. “Sweetheart, I’m still going to love you. Even if the wedding isn’t perfect. Even if throughout this marriage, you aren’t perfect”

Todd stiffens. “I know that.”

“I will.”

“I know.”

“No matter what.”

“I know,” He sounds less sure. “I know.”

“We could have a wedding in a back alley with just us and a priest, we could go to the courthouse and just have the witnesses, we could not get married at all, and I will never. Stop. Loving you.”

“I just. . .” Todd puts the magazine down. “I just wanted to have a good wedding. For you.”

“I know. But just marrying you is enough for me. More than enough. Because I love you.”

Todd lets a shaky breath out. “I love you too.”

They stand like that for a while, pressed together by the kitchen table, but Neil can still feel Todd’s breathing coming nervous and fast.

“We’ll make it work,” Neil says and Todd finally calms in his arms. And the thing is; they will. Neil knows it in his bones.

Just days after the blowjob incident, Todd brings up the topic Neil has been dreading the most.

"We should probably talk about who we're inviting," Todd says.

“Well, the poets, obviously. We can go through old yearbooks, see if we want other people to come. How about that one friend from your internship? Or the coffee girl? I can invite Jessica from management too, she’d love to come.”

"I mean— family," Todd says softly, taking Neil's hand. Neil knows he can read the way this conversation makes Neil tense up.

Neil can't help the flatness of his tone as he replies with a stunted, . "Oh."

"I know it's unpleasant but— do you want to invite your parents?"

Neil immediately gets to his feet and he can feel the burning tension in his chest.

"I'm not inviting my father," Neil says, voice sharper than intended, more knife than plastic.

"But— wouldn't you regret it?"

"Todd, you of all people know what it's like with family."

"I'm gonna invite my parents," Todd says.

Neil can't keep the surprise out of his voice. "You are?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. I've— given it a lot of thought but I am. My brother, his wife. I want to invite them."

"You. . . that’s. . . it’s your choice. Your family. Your wedding.”

“Our wedding.”

Neil shook his head. “Still your family. Your call. If you want them there, let’s invite them.”

“I want to at least try,” Todd says to the floor. “I don’t know if they’ll want to come, but I want them to know that I want them to be there.”

“Okay,” Neil says and swallows, the word sounding stiff in his mouth.

“What?” Todd asks quietly. “Is there— a problem with me inviting my parents?”

“No, no,” Neil shakes his head.

Todd raises his eyebrows and frowns. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know,” Neil says, rubbing his forehead. “Again, it’s your family. I guess I just feel weird because— I really don’t want my parents there. And just you inviting yours makes me think maybe I should give them— especially my father— the benefit of the doubt.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to Neil,” Todd says. He’s standing now too, Neil has no clue when he got up, but he reaches out to put a hand on Neil’s arm.

“I know— just is it bad that I don't want to invite either of my parents? At all?" Neil asks, finally taking his seat back on the small free spot on the couch. Every surface in their living room is still covered in Todd's books that he's been busy signing the past few days. 

Todd shakes his head, taking a seat next to Neil— half in Neil's lap from the lack of space on their couch— and takes both of Neil's hands on his. "No. It's not bad; this is— our thing. The people who hurt you don't need to be a part of it; I just wanted to make sure."

“Okay. Alright; you’re right. This is our thing,” Neil agrees, and Todd leans over to press a kiss to Neil’s cheek. Neil turns to catch Todd’s lips with his and honestly, why should Neil’s family matter when he’s got this?

When Todd steps away to answer his phone a week later, Neil’s already on edge. Todd rarely gets phone calls, much less ones that he steps away for. Never ones that make his face look like that . He sits on the couch waiting for him to finish and doing his best not to chew his nails. They’re already so short that they hurt.

Todd comes back and sets his phone down like it's a flower with fragile petals and looks up at him with watery eyes.

"What do you mean they're not coming?" Neil asks, the words not registering. It doesn't make sense; how could someone not want to be there for Todd? "You invited them."

"I mean—" Todd says quietly. "They said they won't come."

"Why not?"

Todd just shrugs, eyes slipping to the floor. "Because it's me and I'm marrying a man. My parents don't agree with my lifestyle . They won’t support us.”

Neil immediately feels anger in his gut, sharp like an axe, and he wishes he could fix how destroyed Todd looks by the news. He hates Todd's parents for making him feel like this. "Baby— I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," Todd says but his voice is thick with emotion.

"No, it's not."

"No," Todd agrees. "It's not."

"What can I do? How can I make it better?”

Todd shrugs and God, Neil hates to see him hurting. He wishes he could bleed out the cure to the pain Todd's parents caused.

Todd goes on, eyes still not quite meeting Neil's. “Luckily my brother’s still coming. And his wife.”

“You like your sister-in-law, yeah?” Neil asks.

“Yeah. She’s nice.”

“She had the summer wedding a few years ago, right?”

“Yeah. Down in California.”

“Right, right.” Neil lets him sit for a while.

Todd tips his head forward, eyes closed, breath slow but choppy.

“How can I help? Can I make it better?” Neil asks.

“You can’t.”

“Can I help you make it better?” 

Todd leans over, head thumping softly against his shoulder. “Maybe.”

“What do you need?”

He shakes his head. Shrugs. “Just. . . .”

Neil runs his fingers through his hair. Rearranging the strands more than combing. “Okay. Let’s stay like this for a while.”

Minutes later, Todd’s hand finds his. “Hey, I love you.”

Neil turns and presses his face into his hair. “I love you.”

A small silence passes between them. Neil’s heart is beating loudly and desperately in his chest and he worries over what this means. He asks what makes his heart ache with a bad taste between his teeth:

“Do you still want to get married?” Neil asks, voice resisting a bit. He doesn’t like the question, doesn’t like the way it sours his mouth or makes his heart ache, but he has to make sure.

“Of course— Neil, why would you even ask that?” Todd asks, putting a hand to Neil’s jaw.

“Just with your parents not coming, I just. I didn’t know.”

“Neil,”

“We don't have to. We don’t have to get married. If it’s going to bug your parents, we don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Todd says softly. “I want to. I don’t care if my parents aren’t coming. Well, I care, but it doesn't change the fact that I want to marry you. It hurts that they don’t approve, and it hurts that they won’t come, they won’t support me, support us. But I’m going to marry you. I’m happy with you, Neil. I’m not going to lose that.”

Neil’s chest feels tight. "Neither of our parents will be there."

“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse,” Todd says softly.

“Sorry,” Neil says and Todd’s quiet. Thinking. “Todd?”

“You’re walking down the aisle.”

“Yeah?”

“Neil. . . your father ,” Todd says, and he sounds heartbroken.

Neil blinks. “I’ll walk myself. It’ll be powerful. Shows I’m independent.”

“You’re really okay?”

“Sure. Yeah, of course.”

“Really?”

Neil pulls him close and says more to his hair than to him, “It’s our wedding. It’s going to be perfect. Fathers or not.”

“Marry me, Neil,” Todd says, voice muffled.

“Yes,” he says softly. He’ll always say yes.

Todd’s been sitting at this cafe for half an hour. The person he’s meeting kind of runs on their own schedule, even after all these years, so he’s not too concerned. Only a little concerned. 

“Behold! A face of the long past,” says a voice behind him.

“Mr. Keating!” Todd says.

Keating grins, face wrinkling with joy. His hair is pale and gray and he has little glasses perched on his nose, but he’s undeniably Keating. No one can replicate that aura. “Mr. Anderson, are you a man, or an amoeba?”

“Does one have to choose one or the other? Is it not enough to be both?”

They both laugh because so much has changed and they’re different people, and yet they’re the same as always. “Well, Mr. Anderson, I was over in the book shop over there and I saw these fine things—” He places a couple of books on the table as he sits. “And I was wondering if I could get a signature of a future poet-laureate?”

Todd blushes. “Oh, I mean, sure, but I’m nowhere near—”

“Shh. Sign, sign.”

He ducks his head and scribbles his name and carpe diem in the inside cover of the hard copies of his anthologies. “Thanks for coming today.”

“It’d been a while since we’d seen each other, I was happy to receive your invitation for coffee. How’s Mr. Perry doing? Any big shows coming up? I’ll clear my schedule.”

“About him. . .”
Keating’s face falls. “Dear God, boy, you aren’t broken up are you?”

“What? What, no! No, we’re engaged.”

“Engaged! Todd! Congratulations!” Keating ruffles his hair enthusiastically. His joy is infectious and Todd finds himself grinning stupidly.

“I’m excited,” he says softly.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” Keating replies. To anyone else, the comment comes out of the blue, but to Todd, it carries the warmth of being known.

“Thank you.”

“When’s your big day?”

“December 15th.”

“Next year, I assume?”

“Yeah.”

“Gorgeous. Winter wedding. Always wanted to go to a winter wedding. Summer weddings are miserably warm.”

Todd nods in agreement. “Neil wants to walk down the aisle.”

“Good for him. Dramatic entrance?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm. His father isn’t coming, is he?” Keating says patiently.

Todd shakes his head.

“I assumed as much.”

“He said he was fine walking down the aisle by himself, but I still wanted him to, to have someone with him,” Todd takes a deep breath. “He really looks up to you, Mr. Keating. You were there for him when his father wasn’t, you were at his first production, you drove him to auditions when he couldn’t get a ride. And it— it would mean a lot to him, to me , if you could walk with him. Down the aisle.”

Keating’s crying. His eyes are wet and there are tears gathering at the edge of his eyelashes. “I would love to.” he croaks. “I would love to.”

Neil’s got a headache growing in the spot between his eyebrows. Todd drapes himself over his shoulders and looks down at the papers Neil is working on. 

“Doing okay?”

Neil snorts. “I’m making a seating arrangement for almost a hundred people based on compatibility and petty rivalries leftover from high school, do I look okay?”

Todd freezes. “ How many people?”

“Well, we’ve got sixty or so that RSVPed that they’d be coming, but I’m waiting on about thirty more? Not counting plus ones.”

Todd runs his hands over his face. “Holy fuck, Neil.”

Neil chews on the inside of his cheek. “I wasn’t expecting everyone to want to come.”

“Apparently not.”

“What?” Neil catches the tightness in Todd’s voice. “I just thought— the more the merrier.”

“How am I— Neil, how am I supposed to do this with that many people?”

Something about the way he says it makes Neil’s chest ache. “You don’t want that many people to see us get married? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Todd takes a deep breath and Neil can see the deep panic in his eyes. "I just can’t do this in front of that many people.”

“Is this because of me? Or because you’re marrying a man?”

Todd’s voice softens. “I— no, fuck. Neil. That’s not what I mean. It’s just— anxiety.”

“Oh—” Neil says slowly. It’s been so long since Todd has had a panic attack that sometimes Neil almost forgets.

“Yeah,” Todd responds quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Neil whispers. “I didn’t— I wasn’t thinking.”

“Cleary.”

“Todd—”

“Don’t, Neil.”

Neil stands and Todd backs up. “Listen, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just got excited.”

“It’s our wedding. Ours. Not just yours.”

“I know that,” he insists.

“Then why?” Todd’s voice cracks and Neil’s heart cracks right with it. “You know how bad crowds are for me.”

“I know—as I said, I wasn’t thinking. How can I make this better?”

There’s a shake in Todd now and Neil puts a supportive hand to his back, as though to steady him. It doesn’t but Todd doesn’t pull away.

Todd’s shrug is soft but his voice is still hard. “I’m not sure— you can’t just— uninvite people.”

“I will— if that will make you comfortable.”

Finally, finally , Todd’s posture relaxes. Neil watches the anger trickle out of his features because he knows, they both know, they’re both just trying their best.

“No, it’s alright. I’ll— I’ll try it with all those people.”

“If it gets too much, I’ll walk out with you.”

“Out of our own wedding?” Todd lets out a little laugh and Neil loves the way his body calms, like an ocean after a storm.

“Anything for you,” Neil says, voice soft.

Todd grins. “People will think we’re weird as fuck if we have to step out of our own wedding.”

“Let them think whatever they want. Anyway— they’re our friends, they’ll understand,” Neil replies.

“Okay,” Todd says, nodding. “Okay— let’s have our huge ass wedding.”

The conversation of bachelor parties comes up later than Neil expects.

"So— I'm thinking strippers," Charlie says and Neil sees the panic in Todd's eyes.

"For whose bachelor party?" Knox asks, eyebrows raised.

" Not mine ," Todd says quickly just as Charlie says "Todd's!"

“Charlie!” Neil says. “You’re my best man!”

Charlie pats his friend’s shoulder. “Always will be.”

"Wait, so Charlie's planning both of our bachelor parties?"

"Please no," Todd says. "Can Knox plan mine?"

Knox sits up straighter. “I could plan a much better party than Charlie.”

“Aw, c’mon, what’s wrong with some old-fashioned Nuwanda fun?”

"I would rather Cameron plan my bachelor party than Charlie."

Cameron opens his mouth to say retort, to defend himself or something, but he’s interrupted by Charlie.

Charlie pouts. “Neil, your fiance can be really mean.”

“I know,” Neil says fondly.

Charlie makes a face. “Oh, gross , should’ve known you’d be into that.”

“I, what? No! No, it’s not—”

“Damn, Neil.” Pitts whistles.

“Yeah, that’s not something I needed to know,” Meeks grumbles.

“Guys, no it’s not, I don’t—” He looks at Todd. “ Todd .” he pleads.

Todd looks away and shrugs. The room erupts into laughter and hoots and hollers. 

“Well now that we know what gets Neil off—“ Charlie says which just makes everyone break into laughter again as Neil lets out a sigh. “I’m still offended that I can’t plan both bachelor parties.”

“I’m offended Todd thinks I would plan a boring bachelor party,” Cameron grumbles but everyone laughs.

Todd just grins. “I honestly don’t care who does it just— please no strippers .”

Charlie eyes Neil.

“I know Todd is okay with me having strippers but that doesn’t mean I want strippers,” he says quickly.

“None of you are fun.” Charlie pouts.

Meeks points at him. “No, you just don’t understand your friend’s definitions of fun. Think quiet. Soft music. Painting. A nice wine.”

Knox nods towards him. “Perfect night for Todd.”

"Wine and painting, are you serious ?" Charlie asks, pushing his bottom lip out in a way that makes him much younger than he is. “That’s so fucking boring.”

“I like the idea,” Todd says, grin soft.

“It seems right up your alley,” Cameron notes.

Pitts nods. “I would like to try painting. Especially drunk painting.”

“I wanna see what people come up with,” Meeks adds.

“Fine!” Charlie huffs. “Wine and painting it is.”

Neil leans over towards the middle of the group. “Okay, but I still need a party.”

Meeks snaps at him. “There’s a comedy club tucked between a couple of bars downtown. I’ll book us some tickets.”

Charlie smacks him. “I thought I was planning the party!”

“You can plan the rest of it!” Pitts says.

“Yeah, who else is going to plan which bars we go to and how much we can drink?” Neil says.

Charlie jabs a finger at him. “I’m doing this because I love you dearly and you’ve been my best friend since eighth grade.”

“And I’m eternally grateful.”

Todd. . . doesn't really know how they got here. See, they were painting sunsets on tiny canvases Knox picked up from the art store, and then they were passing the canvases around and adding on to each other’s painting and now. Well. 

“No, no, no, you have to make the ring on the condom greener, or else it’s gonna blend into the rest of it.” Knox insists.

Charlie smacks him, slinging paint across the table. “Leave me and my condom alone.”

Meeks tilts his painting towards Pitts. “Does my dildo look dick-like enough or should I add more shadows to the veins?”
Todd looks down at his painting and unfortunately empty glass of wine and then back to his friends. “Why did I get the butt plug?”

Cameron makes a face at him. “Do you remember when Neil left your stuff out on your dorm desk one night and both of you forgot and then you invited me over to study? You paint the buttplug.”

“But what if I wanted to paint the anal beads.”

“Uh uh!” Charlie shouts. “The anal beads are Pittsie’s!”

Pitts nods. “Easy to paint.”

Todd goes back to filling in the outline of his butt plug on canvas with blue. At some point in the night, Charlie had dug a sharpie and some index cards out of nowhere and started writing sex toys for them to paint down because “the night needed more spice”.

They steadily make their way through Charlie’s sex toy stack. Knox passes out somewhere between “vibrator” and “handcuffs” and Cameron drives him home. Meeks and Pitts leave after cleaning up some of the painting stuff. Charlie sticks around, staying the night so that he can take Neil out drinking for his party the next day. They lay the canvases out to dry together in silence and rinse out the brushes.

“Hey,” Charlie says, quieter than he’s been all night. “You’re gonna treat him well.”

Todd stops scrubbing the bristles of the brush in his hands. “How do you know?”

“Y’already have. He loves you. You love him. You’ll be good.”

Todd goes back to scrubbing the brush. “Thank you.”

Charlie knocks their shoulders together. “Of course.”

They finish cleaning in silence.

It becomes Charlie’s goal to drink in at least half a dozen bars dry before the night ends and as much confidence as Neil has in Charlie knowing how to party, Neil has always been a bit of a lightweight. After the comedy club, they make their way through bar after bar and Neil gets gradually drunker.

Neil doesn’t know exactly when they got to the rundown little playground tucked behind the elementary school. He has distinct flashes of bright lights and loud music and the feeling of sweaty glass after sweaty glass being pushed into his hand. He feels numb and electric and alive.

“I AM A KING! A GOD! AND I AM MARRYING TODD ANDERSON!” Neil yells. The volume makes his head swim a bit but he’s too full of joy to be quiet, balancing precariously at the top of the plastic slide.

Behind him, Charlie whoops, and everyone claps or shouts encouragingly.

He nearly drops his bottle into the snow on his way down. He attempts to stand up when he gets to the bottom.

Neil doesn’t remember falling over but next thing he knows, Meeks and Pitts are pulling him back to his feet. He does know how to use his legs, he swears, but his knees are pulling inwards and buckling under him. 

“Can you stand on your own?” Meeks laughs.

“If I try.” Neil manages.

Pitts hikes Neil’s arm over his neck. “Yeah, I don’t believe that at all.”

That’s where the night ends, since Neil can no longer walk on his own. They get in a cab and Charlie and Meeks help him up the stairs to their third floor apartment. It’s in the early hours of the morning and they must be making a hell of a racket because a sleepy, bleary-eyed Todd emerges from their bedroom.

“Hey, Neil,” he says softly and Neil can tell by the softness in his voice that he can tell Neil is shitfaced. Todd nods his thank you to Meeks and Charlie and helps Neil to their bedroom. He helps him out of his shoes and gently takes the blazer off of Neil’s shoulders.

“Looks like you had a fun night,” he grins at Neil and even this drunk Neil can tell he’s trying not to laugh at the drunk mess that is currently Neil Perry.

“A phenomenal night,” Neil slurs.

“Phenomenal? Wow, that’s a great night,” Todd laughs slightly.

Neil grins at Todd and even Neil can tell it’s too wide to be a sober smile. “I’m going to marry you.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I can’t believe it. I get to love you for alway s,” Neil says excitedly and this makes Todd laugh.

“Let’s get you tucked into bed,” Todd smiles and even drunk, Neil can tell Todd is excited about the exact same thing.

Neil ties his tie three times before it's satisfactorily neat.

He’s standing in one of the back rooms of the church, staring at his reflection in the window, making sure his hair looks just right.

There’s a knock on Neil’s door, and he looks up to find Charlie Dalton leaning against the doorway.

“Your hair’s sticking up in the back,” Charlie says, giving Neil’s hair a ruffle, and Neil lets out an annoyed noise in his throat.

“Thanks for that,” Neil says.

There’s a few moments of silence and Neil knows what Charlie’s going to ask before he even does.

“How do you feel?” Charlie’s saying, giving Neil a friendly pat on the back.

“I feel good. Really good.”

Charlie looks over at Neil, nodding in approval as Neil finally gets the stubborn piece of hair in the back to lay flat. “Cold feet at all?”

“Funny thing— no. I’ve always felt this way about him; I can’t imagine not loving him.”

Charlie smiles widely. “I’m so happy for you. I think— you guys are great together.”

“Yeah,” Neil says, and although he’s sure in every corner and crevice of his bones that he wants to get married to Todd today, he’s glad Charlie is here. His best friend. “Yeah, we really are.”

Todd feels the panic come on quickly, like being dunked underwater. He immediately brings a hand to his chest; his heart feels like it’s throwing a tantrum inside of him. He leans against the wall and tells himself the walls aren’t collapsing in. He drags his feet towards the nave because he’s getting married, goddamnit, this is not the time for a panic attack.

It’s not Neil or the idea of marrying him that starts the panic. It’s the fact that there are over a hundred people waiting for him, all with eyes on him, paying attention to his every movement. This hasn’t happened in a while; Todd’s been really good with his panic attacks for a long time now. But this one comes on too fast and too hungry, like a starving coyote.

Air burns in his lungs. 

He loves Neil. He wants to marry Neil. Neil wants to marry him. So why was Todd so scared right now of all times?

Keating’s by the door to the nave. “Todd, my boy,”

“Mr. Keating,”

“If you tug on your tie anymore, you’ll rip it right off.”

Todd puts his hands down. “Right.” He tugs on the hem of his jacket.

“Nervous?” he asks, eyes as knowing as they always are.

“I don’t know why. I’ve wanted this for years.”

Keating shrugs. “Big moments cause emotions, and we can rarely tell if it's joy or fear.”

Todd gnaws on his lip. “Thanks for doing this.”

Keating’s eyes soften. “It’s my honor.” He puts a hand on Todd’s shoulder, a move that usually feels stifling, but with Keating, the heaviness comforts him. “You boys deserve to be as happy as you can be, and letting me be a part of it is generous on your half, not mine.”

Todd sniffs. It’s a little early to be crying, but Pitts was crying earlier, so maybe he’s behind. 

“Son, I’m not gonna give you a shovel talk. You probably give yourself ten a day. But I’m going to tell you to be true. Be true to yourself, to what you want, who you are, and be honest with Neil. You’ve let him inside your heart, don’t forget to let him inside your mind. He already thinks it’s a beautiful place. Might as well show him.”

“Thank you, sir,” Todd says.

“Of course my boy. Now go, you’ll be late for your own wedding.”

Todd walks up to the altar where his friends are waiting for him.

“You got this.” Charlie hisses.

Meeks nods in solidarity. Pitts and Cameron give him thumbs up, too far away to whisper. 

Knox looks at him. “Are you ready for this?”

Todd lets a final nervous breath go and smiles. “Yes. Of course.”

And he is.

"Mr. Keating?" Neil's voice is louder than he means it to be but he can't stifle his surprise. Keating— being here?

"Mr. Perry!" Keating's voice echoes down the hall. He sounds triumphant; he sounds like joy itself. 

“What are you doing here? The ceremony starts in just a couple minutes, you should be in your seat!”
Mr. Keating straightens his suit coat and clears his throat. Neil notices it’s a dusty, baby blue sort of color. It matches the theme of their wedding. “Mr. Perry, son, I’ve known you since you were a young junior in high school, uncertain and scared and eager for something to incite passion in you. You’ve grown so much since then. And I am so incredibly honored to have seen you grow into the strong young man you are today. I look forward to seeing you grow even more. So, if you’ll have me, Neil, it would be my honor to walk you to the altar.”

"You're going to walk me down the aisle?" Neil asks and his voice breaks a bit. Keating came here for him.

"It was actually Mr. Anderson's idea, I must admit."

Todd's idea. Of course, it was Todd. Todd always knows what Neil needs before he knows it himself and all the emotions come rushing in like a wave. Without thinking, he pulls Keating into a hug. Keating just lets out a friendly little laugh, a warm and soapy sound.

“Thank you, Captain, my Captain.”

Keating’s smile is more full than Neil thinks he deserves. Neil feels his chest fill with love, for Todd, for Keating, for the poets. For everyone who made this day happen, who makes Neil’s life mean something more. Neil feels it in his stomach and in his arms and the world is his for a moment.

The music starts and Keating takes Neil’s arm.

Seeing Neil walk down the aisle on Mr. Keating’s arm feels holy. Sacred. He’s smiling so wide Todd just knows he’s gonna complain about his cheeks hurting later. He can’t wait. He’s greedy for it, greedy for every moment that involves Neil, every breath, every second. Todd’s knees feel like they’re gonna drop out from under him.

“Christ.” he breathes.

Behind him, Knox bumps his back with his elbow. “You got this.”

Todd can’t bear to tear his eyes off of Neil, not even long enough to reply, “I’m so ready.”

Mr. Keating and Neil pause at the base of the stairs to the altar long enough for Mr. Keating to hug him, eyes bright with unshed tears.

“You boys take care of each other,” he says, voice shaking.

Todd’s lip wobbles. “Yes, sir.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Neil chokes out. Todd watches him take the stairs one by one. Light shifts off of his silver suit and Todd feels like his own heart has been blinded. Neil insisted on something sparkly, so they settled on a silver suit for him with a Persian purple shirt and a spring of fake lavender tucked into his breast pocket. Todd had got a floral purple suit to match and a silver shirt that felt like wearing water itself. Neil wanted to go get their suits preserved after the wedding, the way most brides do with their dresses. Todd hadn’t seriously considered the idea until he saw Neil in his suit. He wanted to immortalize it forever. He wanted to grab a piece of paper and pour out his heart in ink and blood but he couldn’t move because here was Neil. There he was, his fiancé, his future husband, there, at their wedding. Todd’s bones feel like they are going to burst with happiness.

I love you. He mouths.

Neil smiles back. I love you too.

Neil takes a deep breath and everything around him feels surreal, like another universe, like looking through a kaleidoscope. Just a little bit off but in the most beautiful way.

He’s here. The two of them, he and Todd, have gotten here. Despite everything. They’ve made it here, through all the hard days, through the fights, through days that were so dark that Neil didn’t think there would be a light at the end of them.

They’re standing at the altar and Todd looks like he’s going to cry. Neil feels like he’s going to cry. He might already be crying. There’s so much to feel, to think, and everything is boiling down to Todd, Todd, Todd. He gives Todd a watery smile. Todd smiles back and Neil could count his teeth if he really wanted to. Meeks is going on but it’s just background noise. Neil’s looking at Todd and thinking of more mornings making breakfast together, nights curled together in the kind of silence that makes your heart soft. He thinks of grocery shopping and snowball fights, soup made for him when he’s sick, the sandwiches he makes for Todd in return. He pictures more bookshop dates, Todd in audience seat after audience seat, supportive as he’d always been. He thinks of old, wrinkled hands, clasped together and the crackling laughter of an aged voice.

“Neil,” Meeks says. “If you’d like to read your vows now.”

Neil digs his cards out of his pocket. He has them memorized but you can never be too careful. 

“They say, in life, it's the little things,” he starts.