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“Love is friendship set on fire.”
A Discourse of the Nature and Offices’ of Friendship: In A Letter to the Most Ingenious and Excellent M.K.P. by Jeremy Taylor, 1613
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Peter liked routines. He relished in them.
Every morning, he got out of bed at 6:09 AM, allowing himself one pre-set snooze to get his bearings before he sprung into action. Usually, on a workday, he’d pack lunches, fire up their Keurig, and shower, before he’d wake Harley to wrangle the zombie off and out the door—all with enough time to spare to fight the inevitable LA-Pasadena traffic hellscape that consisted of their commute.
Saturdays and Sundays were a bit different, though.
Peter still woke up at 6:09 AM, turned on their Keurig, and showered; however, he refrained from waking Harley from his coma.
Their weekends were peaceful, and Peter was grateful for the little slice of heaven he’d fallen into. He knew their docile weekends would probably abruptly stop soon, so he needed to soak them in as much as possible.
Harley and Peter had bought their house and moved in the year before. Peter had moved into Harley’s apartment long before they’d gotten engaged, but the rent kept skyrocketing, so they couldn’t justify not just buying a house anymore.
After buying a house, it wasn’t long until the baby fever had kicked in.
Once Peter had gotten out of the shower and caffeinated himself, he ambled over to his desktop to check if he’d had any new emails since the night before.
Sure enough, he had a few. He scrolled through a couple of bot promotional messages until one caught his eye.
It was from the adoption agency - well, the only adoption agency that had responded to Peter and Harley’s initial request for submission.
You would think they’d be clamoring for two NASA scientist parents, but apparently not.
Peter’s hand hovered over his mouse. He took a quick breath and then clicked on the email.
His eyes moved frantically as he read over everything as fast as he could.
There was a lot of jargon and pleasantries sprinkled throughout, but one main thing was clear:
If Peter and Harley were going to move forward with any sort of adoption, they were going to have to stop procrastinating and get hitched.
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“I think Harley and I are going to have to elope,” Peter, a little jittery, said over the phone.
“Is it still considered eloping if it’s been over three years?” MJ replied blandly, clearly unphased by the issue and early hour.
“It would solve our problem of planning a wedding,” Peter reckoned, initiating a responding snort from MJ.
“If you get married at a courthouse, we have to go to Santa Barbara. They have the prettiest one,” MJ said matter-of-factly, and Peter could already hear the rapid click of typing from her end.
“You’re right,” Peter agreed, clicking over to Google to check out pictures. It was a gorgeous Spanish-style villa surrounded by a field of flowers. “I don’t know if everyone will want to come out if they’re already coming for your eclipse party.”
There was a long pause from MJ, almost to the point that Peter feared the call had disconnected.
“Peter,” MJ said in her witchy low tone, which Peter knew only meant she was up to no good. “What if my eclipse party was your wedding?”
A grin began to split Peter’s face. “I’d say you’re a genius that NASA underpays, and Harley’s gonna lose his shit when he wakes up.”
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By the time Harley slumped out of bed at 12:48 PM, Peter was in the center of their living room, surrounded by paperwork, on the phone with Aunt May - who was near chirping with excitement. He had already completed and submitted their marriage license request online, a group chat had been started, and he was knee-deep in a conversation about suits.
“Um,” Harley said, taking in the scene before him and blearily wiping his eyes of sleep. “Morning?”
“Oh, thank God!” Peter exclaimed while Aunt May said something vaguely Italian that Harley didn’t catch. “I need your measurements.”
Harley blinked at him.
“Right,” Peter said, primarily to himself. “May, I’ll call you back. I gotta fill Harley in.”
After hanging up the phone, Peter untangled himself from his cross-legged position on the floor. He made his way over to Harley, who seemed to be still taking everything in.
“Good morning,” he said a bit sheepishly, then leaned up on his tippy-toes to give Harley a peck. “So, we’re finally getting married…I think,” he tacked on hastily, smiling a bit at Harley’s earnest early-morning bafflement.
“Okay,” Harley said slowly, seeming to process it all. “And what changed in the last 12 hours?”
Peter spent the next few minutes eagerly filling him in about his early morning activities and revelations. He ended his improvisational presentation with MJ’s suggestion of an eclipse elopement, something he knew Harley would agree to because it was cool, memorable, romantic, and seemed to fit them.
It was suddenly like their three-year engagement made sense. They had merely been waiting for the universe to slot the pieces together.
“It’s perfect,” Harley agreed readily when Peter finished, nearly out of breath. He let out a little laugh that seemed even to startle himself. “The stars keep aligning for me and you, darlin’, don’t they?”
Peter reached for his hand and squeezed it briefly. “I guess we’re meant to be,” he said lightly, attempting to distract from the gooeyness of the moment and how Harley gazing into his eyes and talking so sweetly to him was making his heart thump.
“Oh man,” Harley drawled as it dawned on him. “I better go call Abby and Ma. They’ll be itching to insert themselves.”
“I’m pretty sure somebody’s already added Abby to the group chat if she hasn’t already called you,” Peter informed him, merely to watch him swear and dash off back to their bedroom to find his phone.
Things were falling into place, and Peter couldn’t be more excited for the actual day.
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Peter had never been so stressed in his entire life.
It felt like the entirety of the last 24 hours had been spent working out logistics and running errands. He was exhausted, harried, and bordering on irritable. He had forgotten the realities of wedding planning—even for a small elopement.
They hit a snag in the morning when they somehow misplaced Harley’s birth certificate. After turning their apartment inside out, they ended up finding it tucked in the back of a folder they each swore they had checked a hundred times.
By the time Peter was shuffled into a car with MJ, her girlfriend Riley, and his Aunt May, he was about ready to rest his head against the cool glass window and nap right then and there.
He must have dozed off a little because he came to with May swatting him, scolding not to “wrinkle his suit”. Peter shifted so he was sitting up straight and took his phone out of his pocket to check the time.
He smiled as he saw the selfie Abby had sent him from the passenger seat of their car, catching Harley in his own suit in the backseat. Peter hearted the message and got Aunt May to stop fussing by distracting her with their own car picture.
The day got immediately better as soon as the car ride was over. An hour and a half doesn’t seem like forever until you add in morning traffic, a full car, and your wedding day; go figure.
As soon as they all tumbled out of the car Peter got to take in the courthouse - and it was even better than all the pictures he’d seen, if that was even possible. The sun gleamed off the roof and seemed to bounce off all the palm trees planted around the entrance.
A few paths leading away from the front were lined with molten California orange poppies, and Peter immediately knew they’d make the perfect setting for wedding pictures. The drive and all of Peter’s errand-induced tetchiness melted away as he took in the scene. By the end of the hour, he and Harley were finally going to be married.
He hadn’t really had time for the thought to sink in before, but now it did, fizzling in the pit of his stomach like a bowlful of pop rocks.
It was the good kind of excitement, though, the kind people spend their whole lives chasing.
Now all Peter had to do was wait.
And well, they didn’t have to wait long for the rest of the party to roll in.
Even though things had been planned last minute, Peter praised himself and everyone in his head for their ability to stick to a theme pretty well.
All of the girls, MJ, Riley, Abby, and Betty had coordinated blue dresses for the occasion, to pair with Harley and Peter’s navy suits. Ned had worn a black suit so people “wouldn’t get confused” over who the grooms were, which gave everyone a good-natured laugh.
Peter gave May a watery smile as she stepped up beside him, catching him watching everyone bustle about. Abby had procured a large folder that she was coordinating with MJ, and Peter was positive it was filled with every sensitive document he’d ever received in his life.
He had never loved a group of people on Earth more than he loved his found and chosen family at this moment.
The thought that his family was going to have the opportunity to grow filled him with joy in a way that was almost too much to express.
“Your parents would have loved to be here,” May said, her voice gentle, no louder than a whisper.
Peter felt a few tears fall loose and messily reached up to wipe them away. The last thing he needed was snot on his suit.
“I know,” Peter said, clearing his throat after it caught a little with his words. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he managed, hoping it would convey everything he meant.
May gave him a warm smile and squeezed his shoulder. “Anytime, kiddo.”
The moment was broken by Harley, who was on the phone waving over to them. “Hey!” he yelled across the parking lot. “Evan’s almost here! Don’t worry he’s got his camera and everything!”
Sure enough, by the time Peter got over to Harley, Evan’s familiar beat-up pick-up truck rolled in. Evan climbed out, DSLR strapped around his shoulder, in a white button-up and black slacks, the fanciest dress Peter had ever seen him in. Without worry, a frayed baseball cap was still on his head, advertising a logo Peter didn’t recognize.
Harley launched forward and gave his childhood best friend a big hug, both careful not to crush the camera between them.
With that, everyone had arrived so that they could get their show on the road.
Peter had initially worried that while their crew was small for a wedding, they could easily crowd the cramped halls of a courthouse. With the Santa Barbara courthouse however, that was not the case at all. Somehow it was even bigger than the pictures had suggested, and Peter found himself in awe of marble floors, high vaulted ceilings, and grandiose pillars that greeted them upon entering.
Peter felt Harley’s arm wrap leisurely around his waist in a way that was achingly familiar. Peter leaned into his touch, enjoying their brief moment before things would undoubtedly get hectic again.
There was a lot of shuffling, but eventually, Peter and Harley ended up in front of the desk clerk with their paperwork, IDs, and debit cards to get everything squared away. After they paid and signed what felt like a million forms they finally were ushered down a few long hallways until they reached The Mural Room.
The pictures they had all looked up online couldn’t possibly do the opulent extravagance of the room justice. Michelangelo-inspired art depicting California’s history was painted onto every wall, only broken by the few wooden pews and single chandelier at the front.
Peter felt Harley’s warmth encompass his back. His soon-to-be husband’s chin came to rest on his shoulder as he glanced around the room.
“Are you ready for the rest of your life, sweetheart?” He asked, his voice no louder than a soft whisper.
The question was only for Peter, and he knew the answer without having to even think about it.
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