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“What if I didn’t want a wedding?” Patrick says.
They're sitting on the couch in his apartment on a Tuesday night. Presumably, they're watching a movie, but they’d gotten predictably distracted around twenty minutes in and forgot to pause it. Now, David’s trying to piece together a second act that seems very disconnected from the first, while Patrick’s given up and is on his phone, arguing on one of his baseball forums.
A few minutes ago, Patrick said, “David, can you believe this?” at which point David started an internal timer. Right now, they have about three minutes left before Patrick gets frustrated enough with his phone keyboard that he’ll go get his computer. There’s also a good chance he’ll mutter something about ‘maximizing his typing efficiency,’ in which case David wins his bet against himself and earns a celebratory chocolate chip cookie with lunch tomorrow.
Basically, they're having a very cute, very domestic evening before Patrick decides to blow it up.
“I didn’t quite catch that,” David says, because Patrick has been a wonderful boyfriend for two years now, and he deserves an out.
Patrick doesn’t take it, or even look up from his phone. “What if I didn’t want a wedding.”
“Is this, like,” David tries, “a fun hypothetical scenario we’re doing?”
“Kind of?” Patrick finishes writing something, glances up, and sees David’s face. “Not—no! I want to get married, I’m not questioning that.”
“But you are questioning something.”
Patrick puts his phone down, very carefully, on the table next to the couch. “Treat it as a fun hypothetical scenario, sure. Say I told you tonight that I don’t want a wedding. Then what?”
David’s world is crashing and burning around his ears. “So you don’t want—”
“I’m not saying that. Just answer the question, David.”
David doesn’t think he can answer the question. Fuck, and they’d just paid for suits, too. Should he have predicted that this was going to happen? Last time—but, nope, Rachel is a woman, and Patrick is gay. Also, Patrick just said he still wants the marriage. But not, apparently, the ceremony? Why doesn’t he want the ceremony?
“Would you call it off?” Patrick prompts.
David blinks. “ You’re the one calling it off. Why are you calling it off?”
“I’m not calling anything off,” Patrick says irritably. “It’s a hypothetical question. Like when you ask my opinion on your clothes. Or my clothes. Or any aesthetic decision.”
David scrunches his nose.
“And I didn’t mean the wedding. I meant, uh, our relationship. Would you—end it? If I canceled the wedding.”
David feels his mouth drop open. “Wait, what? ”
Patrick waits; more is not forthcoming, because David’s head is spinning too much to formulate an intelligent response. What the fuck is going on?
“So that’s not actually a no,” Patrick says testily.
“Wh—of course it’s a no!”
Patrick doesn’t seem reassured. “You didn’t even consider it.”
“ You’re the one who’s considering—okay,” David interrupts himself, and actually gives the question some thought. “Okay, obviously I’d be mad. Like, really fucking mad.” He thinks for a second. “And I’d want to know why you’re bringing this up now, thirty-three days before the wedding, even though we barely talk about anything else and you told me like, six months into dating that you, quote, ‘definitely want a wedding but probably not in a church.’”
Patrick’s frown lessens only slightly. “But you’d still want to be with me? After?”
“I am getting less and less sure of that by the second!” But Patrick looks serious, so he adds, “Yes, obviously I would still—what do you think the whole point of this is?”
Patrick shrugs uncomfortably. “Lately… sometimes it feels like the point is the party.”
Ohh. Okay.
David twists sideways on the couch so that he can make better eye contact.
“Mkay,” he starts, “so we’re doing this for multiple reasons? Which is a concept I thought we were both clear on. Like,” he counts on his fingers, “there’s the party; it’s an excuse to buy you a suit that actually fits; I demonstrate to everyone that my aesthetic sensibilities stretch beyond interior design; I meet your extended cousins; we suck up to vendors; Stevie cries embarrassingly in public; we order an extremely expensive cake and eat most of it ourselves.” He pauses and takes a breath. “There’s probably more. I didn’t even get into the catering. But.” He deems it safe to reach out and rub Patrick’s shoulder for emphasis. “The main reason we’re having a wedding is that we want to be married to each other.”
“And the pageantry—”
“Is extra. Very lovely and expensive extra, which we’ve already fully paid for; but extra.”
Patrick thinks about this. “So if I’d told you at the beginning that I didn’t want a wedding…”
David grimaces. “I would have, um, tried to negotiate? For maybe a smaller event, or a lower budget. But if it was really a deal-breaker for you, then…” He can’t believe he’s about to say this. “Then we wouldn’t have had a wedding.”
“Really?”
God. “…Yes.”
Patrick must see the truth of it through David’s reluctance—or maybe because of David’s reluctance. He grins, finally, and leans over to peck David on the cheek.
“You sounded very convincing there, honey, great job.”
“I would!” David protests, then lets a little of his smile bleed through. “I’d even forgive you for it, eventually.”
Patrick smiles back. “Okay.”
He shifts so that he’s settled against David’s side, then goes back to his phone.
David tries to refocus on the movie, which has totally changed again—who are all these characters—but he can’t concentrate.
“But just to perfectly, one hundred percent clarify, you do want the wedding?”
Patrick hums, vaguely affirmative.
“Great, great. Could I get some verbal confirmation, too?”
Patrick twists his neck to look up at David, and it’s obvious he’s trying not to laugh.
“Yes, David, I want the wedding.“
“Okay, it’s a reasonable question! After all that!” David wants to gesture for emphasis, but Patrick’s still leaned against him, so he settles for waving just his right arm around.
“No,” Patrick agrees, “it’s very reasonable. I love you.”
David doesn’t dignify that with a response. Fiancés who scare him half to death with insane and unnecessary hypotheticals don’t get I-love-you-too’d.
But maybe, a few minutes later, he presses a kiss to Patrick’s ear (okay, it’s right there) and whispers “I love you too.” Luckily, just like with the hypothetical no-wedding scenario, no one ever has to find out.