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“Marry me.”
“No.”
Hearts Boxcars stared at his companion Diamonds Droog. His own body swayed, his feet were suddenly unsteady. He had expected Droog to at least take a second to be surprised, perhaps even be shocked or appalled. But his response was automatic and indifferent, as if Boxcars had just asked him if he wanted sugar with his coffee or not. He wondered if it was because perhaps, Droog had been asked before.
“Why not?” It was with a heavy and hopeless ache that he asked this. Though Boxcars was the one who asked the question, he hadn’t actually been prepared to face rejection. It stung.
It stung a lot.
But, if he was honest with himself, he hadn’t been prepared to face acceptance either. He hadn’t been prepared for anything. He hadn’t even been prepared to ask the question. It just sort of came out.
Boxcars held Droog’s gaze, though he did it with significant difficulty. It looked as though the other was still mulling over an answer. Was he was taking his time to decide on the best response, the one that would cause the least additional pain?
Were they too different? Is it not meant to be? Or maybe he would just abandon formalities entirely and flat out call Boxcars an idiot.
"Because…”
Droog was still, he turned his head away from Boxcars to look at his cigarette. His slender finger tapped on it twice and Boxcars’ eyes followed the ash all the way to the ground. Seemed like a nice place to be right now.
“You’re drunk.”
Boxcars scoffed and the mournful expression vanished, “Bah! Oh, c’mon. When has that stopped anyone from doing anything?”
“When has that stopped anyone stupid from anything? Probably never.”
“You callin’ me stupid?” He squinted at Droog. He had half the mind to roll up a sleeve on behalf of his pride.
“I’m calling myself smart.”
Huffing again, Boxcars rolled his eyes, “Just a smart way of callin’ me stupid.”
Droog smiled and brought the cigarette back up to his lips.
They stood together in an alley at the backdoor of… Well, somewhere. Somewhere with booze and music. A bar? Most likely. All Boxcars knew was that they had not started here. He and the others had let Slick take them out on what he presumed to be some bar crawl, which had brought them here, wherever here was. So now if you asked him for his whereabouts, Boxcars could only tell you: Some shitty back alley on southside with my friend billowing smoke in my face .
He watched Droog, still as impassive as ever, doing his infamous impression of a fog machine. Of course, his friend had probably heard a lot of ridiculous talk from people while they were intoxicated. Why should this be any different?
It shouldn’t be, not one bit. But Boxcars didn’t want to let it go. Something inside him (whiskey, or was it rum tonight?) wanted to do the opposite, it wanted to entertain this thought.
Boxcars took a deep breath and tried his best to look as stern and serious as the other man usually was.
“Well, maybe I don’t wanna marry you.”
“Then why’d you ask?”
“I was practicing.”
Droog appeared vaguely intrigued by this, “Practicing for who?”
Damn.
Boxcars hadn’t thought this far, and why would he need to? There was literally no reason to until he set himself up like this. Fortunately, he didn’t have to search that long for an answer.
“Slick. Deuce. Slick and Deuce, Deuce and Slick. That’s right, we’re all gettin’ married and we’re leaving your chain smoking ass out of it.” He grinned, pleased with himself. A perfect save.
Diamonds Droog ducked his head down, and Boxcars watched his shoulders start to shake. Slowly, laughter began to spill out from his mouth, accompanied by a stream of smoke.
Droog chuckled, “What the hell, Boxcars?”
“I mean it.”
“Oh?” Droog said with mock disappointment, “Well, poor me. Certainly breakfasts will be awkward.”
Boxcars paused briefly. Droog was right, breakfasts would be very awkward. It really wouldn’t do at all to leave him out.
“... Call me smart ‘n’ clever. Maybe I’ll let you back in.”
“Will you now?”
“I mean, I’ll have to have a chat to my husbands first. See if they’re feelin’ it too.”
“We can start out easy,” Droog suggested. “Go on a few dates. Just the four of us.”
“Could go to that other alley, the bowling one that Deuce likes to yammer on about.”
“Need to make sure they at least have Slick’s preferred whiskey first.”
Boxcars hummed in agreement, bowling probably wouldn’t be Slick’s thing. But he can settle just about anywhere if it’s got a decent bar. “I figure whiskey will be the only thing he’ll be picking up. Bet his scrawny ass couldn’t swing a real bowling ball if he tried.”
“He’s waving around an iron hitcher, Boxcars. Give him some credit.”
“Psh, ain’t nothin’. I haul around at least four times that much.”
“Do remember that we don’t all have your incredible physique.”
Boxcars purred, “Incredible, huh?”
He watched Droog give him a shrug, and though Boxcars was only kidding, he could swear he saw Droog’s eyes trail down him before glancing away.
“Another thing they’ll need,” Droog said, deftly changing the topic and glancing down at Boxcars’ feet. “Your shoe size.”
“Well, you know what they say about big feet.” Boxcars quipped and threw in a wink for good measure.
“Don’t… Don’t even start…”
Droog squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head at Boxcars, and he was concerned that he’d gone too far with that little joke and made his friend uncomfortable.
Then Droog quickly straightened up and gave Boxcars a short nod. “But frankly, if you are going to talk like that, you’ve got to buy me another three drinks first.”
“Of course I will.” He nodded back, “I’m a great husband.”
The sheer conviction in Boxcars’ words broke through whatever final wall of stoicism Droog had. The man doubled over, nearly dropped his cigarette and began laughing away like a mad man, barely able to get a breath in. Boxcars was completely taken aback. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen Droog look so joyful in his life. It was probably just all the alcohol Droog had chugged finally taking effect, but Boxcars didn’t care. He was so delighted that he couldn’t help but join in.
Together their laughter filled up the alley. There was no room for anyone else but the two of them in that moment.
“Why are you out here with me anyway.”
“Thought you’d want some company, coming out here to stand in the cold by yourself every hour. You know you can smoke inside? They ain’t gonna say nothin’, and if they do…” Boxcars lifted his hands up and rubbed his knuckles, “I’ll take care of it.”
“I just like the peace.”
“... I ain’t disturbing that, am I?”
“No.” Droog noticed his cigarette was at its end, dropped it, and brought his foot down on it. He looked back up at Boxcars, his fear of impeding on Droog’s personal time was genuine, and he appreciated that.
“You can stay. Keep me company.” He reassured Boxcars with a warm smile, and it was returned.
Hearts couldn’t say how long that lasted. It was longer than necessary, but the fact that Droog maintained it, suggested it was not longer than wanted.
“We can all keep you company!”
Too caught up in themselves to have noticed his entrance onto the scene, Spades Slick came up behind them. He was grinning and swung his arms up high around both the men, “We can all keep each other company!”
He was undoubtedly plastered, after all, the two people who had the ability to restrain Slick from the bar had stepped outside. No doubt that Clubs would be stumbling out after him any second now.
“Buncha lonely fucks, aren’t we? Or you two are anyway. The hell have you been doing out here for so long?”
Boxcars gave a modest shrug, “Talkin-”
“Boxcars wants to marry me.”
His face fell and he turned to Droog, stunned and utterly horrified. He had at least hoped some degree of privacy would exist surrounding the event and not see it transpired the minute someone else showed up. He braced himself for whatever his boss was about to say.
Slick frowned, “Boxcars wants to marry everyone. Boxcars wants to marry the gal that delivers his mail.”
“What?” Boxcars blinked. When did he do that? He didn’t remember that . “I didn’t say that.”
“Yeah, you did. You’ve done this before.” Slick turned to Droog, “He’s done this before.”
Before giving Droog a chance to even open his mouth, Slick continued, slurring his words.
“You get all sappy, then… Then you start askin’ people to marry you, like you’re afraid everyone’s gonna turn tail someday and leave you.”
Something about that thought resonated far too deeply inside Boxcars.
“He didn’t say anything about the mail woman,” Droog hummed and crossed his arms. “He did talk about two other people we know though.”
There was only so much loathing, which didn’t exist, that Boxcars could direct at Droog through a glare. He hoped that it would be enough to shut him up, but the man just seemed far too amused by it all.
“I saw it. You know what the worst part is,” Slick jabbed his thumb into Boxcars. “Fucker doesn’t even have a ring when he does it. How’s he gonna marry everyone, or anyone, if he ain’t got a ring.”
“Completely negligent.” Droog sighed, “But obviously, he hasn’t done it to everyone. He hasn’t asked you .”
“Droog!” Boxcars whispered frantically. His mind was already desperately trying to process everything. Trying to pick through previous memories to find out when exactly he’d dropped the ball, especially concerning the nice mail woman. Was this his thing? He gets loaded then goes on a goddamn wedding spree ?
“No. But it doesn’t matter, I’m a fuckin’ catch and everyone knows it - the fuck are you laughing about, Droog?”
Trying to conceal his laughs behind coughs, Droog shook his head. “Not laughing about anything, boss. You’re a real catch.”
“Yeah, cough up that truth. I’m great...” Slick seemed satisfied, then he glanced up Boxcars.
“... And whenever Hearts is ready to admit that as well...”
“Slick…”
“He makes a point. When are you going to admit it, Hearts?”
Boxcars grumbled through gritted teeth, “Why couldn’t you just be a normal person and turn on the radio when you want some goddamn drama? ”
“This is so much funnier.”
Slick staggered and he had to catch himself on Boxcars before he tipped over.
Boxcars slung an arm over Slick to keep him balanced, “You wanna go back inside and sit down, boss?”
“No. Not yet.” Slick squinted up at Boxcars, “Not till you say it.”
Boxcars didn’t dare physically roll his eyes in front of his boss, but he thought about doing it. In truth, he felt pretty flattered that Slick would want to hear such a thing from him. Anyway, it was just a bunch of words, so Boxcars let him have it.
“Boss, you’re a real catch.” He kept it genuine, which in all honestly, was pretty easy.
That was it. Done. Or at least, Boxcars had thought it was.
“No… The other one.”
“Wow, you are drunk, aren’t you?”
“Shut up.” Slick’s tone went hostile and Boxcars thought he was going to drop the whole thing.
“... So, you gonna say it?”
“Do you even have any intention of saying yes?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
Slick just shrugged and watched Boxcars expectantly. He realised Droog was watching him as well with the same anticipation. It was a strange place for Boxcars to find himself in, but there he was. He sunk down to one knee, careful not to throw Slick off balance while doing it. If he was going to do this, he was at least going to have some fun with it this time.
In a very melodramatic voice, Boxcars closed his eyes and spoke.
“Boss, will you marry me?”
Slick snorted and opened his mouth up to speak, but it was someone else’s voice that came next.
“I can’t believe this…”
Boxcars turned his head back towards the doorway, just in time to see Clubs Deuce stumble out of it.
“You’re all getting married… Without me.”
Droog was the first to break the silence by murmuring something about what a weird night this had become. Slick simply pushed away from Boxcars and wandered over to Droog, “Bet he wasn’t on his knee for you .”
Boxcars was subsequently left by himself, still down on his knee. He really wanted another drink.
“Fellas...” Deuce rubbed his eyes and wobbled slightly on the spot. He didn’t sound quite as drunk as Slick, but they clearly hadn’t stopped drinking while the other two were out.
“Pick one of you to go first, ‘cause someone’s gotta explain this to me. That same person is also gonna need a good reason as to why I wasn’t invited.”
A few looks were exchanged between the four of them, but all eyes seemed to end up on the man left in the middle, resting on his knee.
“Well, uh...” Boxcars started, but just as instantly, Deuce raised a hand up.
“Wait, I changed my mind. I don’t wanna know. Just take me bowling instead.”
“We going bowling now?” Slick mumbled next to Droog.
“Honeymoon.” Droog said back, then received a punch on the shoulder from Slick.
Boxcars permitted himself one public eye roll at that, and got back up onto his feet.
Deuce yawned, “Hey, guys. if we’re all out here, who’s watching our tab now?”
Eventually if none of them went back in, they’d probably send a brave waiter out to check on them. He doubted that anyone wouldn’t have noticed their disappearance by now. But...
“... If we bail now, we could use the money for bowling instead.” Boxcars offered.
It was a good offer, and with the surprise walk Slick started to take down the street, it was the offer they’d have to take. While it was evidence of bad manners to walk out on a tab, it was also bad business to allow your drunken boss to go on a late night walkabout.
Droog went over to put a hand on Deuce’s back, and began to guide him in the direction Slick went.
“Sounds like quite the idea, Hearts... Quite the smart ‘n’ clever idea.”
Boxcars smiled, “Hey, Droog?”
“Hm?”
“Don’t bring up a word of this tomorrow.”
“Trust me, Boxcars. You didn’t need to ask.”