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This particular morning Carter wakes first, but he takes time in getting out of bed, watching the steady rise and fall of Peter's chest. He knows that Peter got in late last night, and Peter's only had about three hours sleep. Long gone are the days that "If I get more than three hours I feel sluggish" applies; time has taken care of that the same way it has added the grey in Peter's hair and the extra padding around his stomach.
Carter had loved tracing those firm muscles and that sleek form, thirty years ago. But the sleeping body next to him - the one that so clearly shows every day that has passed since that first, frenzied kiss in that supply closet at County General when Carter had still been a nervous, but desperate resident - still stirs every bit as much want.
But Peter deserves his sleep. Which is why Carter reluctantly forces himself up about of bed and into the shower. All these years later, and his want for Peter still causes him to need cold showers.
He's in the middle of making breakfast when Reese texts.
Surprise! Roger is engaged!
Carter is glad that Reese can't see his face - or Peter's, for that matter, because the love that Reese has always had for Roger has not always been shared, and Carter is not always good enough of a man to keep it off his face. Still, he's able to type back a simple, Give him my congratulations.
Reese texts back a question Carter doesn't expect: Why didn't you and dad ever tie the knot? It's been legal for years.
It takes Carter by surprise. In truth, it's not something he's ever thought about. When he and Peter first got together, getting married wasn't even possible. Once it became possible, sure it was something to be celebrated - for the couples who were decades younger than them. Carter's attended so many same-sex weddings in the past 11 years, he's lost count.
It wasn't legal when we got together.
It also wasn't legal for a resident and an attending to be together. :P
Well, that's true, but I'm a long way from being a resident.
It's almost like a lot of things have changed.
:P
Carter is still thinking about Reese's question when he realizes that he has burnt the eggs.
By the time Peter wakes up, it's lunch time. Peter makes them tofu sandwiches, an excuse to make them more plant-based meals, which is fair enough, because Carter certainly isn't preparing them.
"Are you alright in there?" Peter asks as he sets the plates down on the kitchen table. "I've made an entire meal and you haven't made one horrible joke yet about how much better a burger tastes than tofu."
"We both know that tofu tastes like wet glue," Carter says solemnly. "But I eat it for you. That is the kind of sacrifice you do for the people you love."
Carter loves their little kitchen nook. It's so different from anything that he ever would have enjoyed growing up with his family. It's small and cozy and warm - three things that the Carter family mansion never prioritized. It also has an expansive window that overlooks an equally modest yard where Reese grew up, rode his bike, had birthday parties, and celebrated graduations. Those years are long over - Reese is an adult with his own house, his own career, his own wife, and they are contemplating whether or not they want to have children of their own one day - but the yard still holds those memories.
The little kitchen is home in a way that Carter's childhood home never was, and he loves it.
"Something's bothering you," Peter says. "Was it the text from Reese?"
"You got one too?"
"Mm. Along with a non-subtle hint that I should make an honest man out of you."
"What did you say?" Carter asks.
"That it was a little late for that." Peter takes a bite of his sandwich, and Carter feels a bit silly that his stomach drops.
It's silly. Peter is right. There isn't any point, of course. They've already devoted their life to one another. They've raised a kid - albeit with help from Roger and Jackie and Walt - and there's no doubt that they've already committed to "til death us do part." This is the one true love of Carter's life. There's no vow or ceremony that will change that. Carter knows that. Maybe a small part of him has always known that - ever since the day Peter got on that plane with him. Maybe he knew it before that, even.
And because you can't spend a lifetime with someone who loves you that much without them knowing you deeply, Peter notices his change of mood.
"What is it, Carter?"
"I guess I'm just feeling a lot of nostalgia," Carter says. "It's silly." And it is silly. A ring wouldn't change their lives. It wouldn't make what they've shared any deeper or more meaningful. It wouldn't make Carter love Peter more, and it wouldn't make him more certain that Peter loved him more.
It took years, but Carter finally understood that, and he doesn't doubt it anymore.
Peter leans back in his chair, and the afternoon sunlight brightens the white in his beard. "It's not silly if it has you upset. Tell me what's bothering you, Carter."
There's the little bit of the demand voice that has always made Carter weak in the knees, and you'd think at 55, he'd be over it. You'd think at 55, Carter would have moved past the part of him that had been an intern desperate and needy for Peter's affection and desire.
But, in fact, Carter is not past that, because the familiar push behind Peter's words make the request almost impossible to ignore.
"If it had been legal, back then, when we first moved in together, would you ... would you have wanted to get married?"
"Probably not," Peter says, and there's no hesitation there - because that's not who Peter is. Peter is a surgeon, through and through - and a trauma surgeon at that. His cuts are deliberate, and sharp, and with purpose.
And sometimes, they hurt.
Carter just nods and takes a bite of his sandwich. Well, what is he supposed to say? Would you, if I had been a woman? If you had chosen Cleo after all, as I thought you were interested in doing, would you have married her?
No, he won't do that. It's petty and unkind and lashing out - all things he would have done in the past. But decades of therapy have helped him push past that gut response.
Peter waits for him to put his sandwich back on his plate, then takes his hand. "Carter. You remember the man I was in 2005. I was stubborn. Hard to live with. Insensitive. I never made it easy to love me."
"That's not true."
"It is," Peter says with a wry smile. "I'm just lucky I got someone so damn stubborn who refused to give up... and who was patient enough to wait for me to come to terms with the fact that I was going to share my life with not only a man, but a white man that."
Arguments, sure - Carter recalls them. But he recalls arguments as a med student, too, and they are all equally outweighed by the happy memories.
"If we're listing faults and tempers, there's plenty of witnesses who would testify against me, too, you know," Carter says, and one of them who can't, because she's dead.
Peter chuckles softly, then his expression turns serious. "This isn't a conversation about 2005, though, is it?"
Unlike Peter, Carter isn't a surgeon. He left that behind, and he does hesitate. "No," he says eventually. "It's about now."
"Do you want to get married?"
Carter looks out over the yard, where their entire life played out with a child that isn't Carter's by blood but is in every way that actually matters, and across the table to the man who isn't Carter's husband technically, but is in every way that actually matters.
He wants to say no. He means to say no. He is still trying to find a way to say no, when Peter squeezes his hand, shakes his head and chuckles, and says simply, "Okay, then. Let's get married."
~*~
They tell Reese about the engagement first, of course. His response is an excited, "Congratulations," followed by a "It's about damn time."
"Well," Peter says, "he's not wrong, I suppose."
No, Carter thinks privately. He's not.