Ray knew getting married wouldn't really change anything in his life, not when he's living in Buttfuck, Missouri--minus the actual buttfucking on the part of anyone but him and Walt--but the things it does change aren't good things.
They're not so big on the PDA, because they could take just about anyone in a fight, and sometimes Ray wants to fight anyone who'd give them shit, but Walt, in an annoyingly reasonable manner, tells him he can't fight the entire damn state.
So instead they're good and heterosexual looking, but grocery shopping together and the way Ray can't last more than a minute without touching Walt, even if it's just on the shoulder, the arm, tends to get them looks that are really fucking annoying. In fact, trips to Wal-Mart have become a nightmare, and Ray wants to get away even if it's just to escape the crazy woman who keeps trying to run them over with her cart every time she sees them there, muttering something about Sodom.
"I think we should move," Ray says one day over breakfast.
Walt raises an eyebrow at him and takes a sip of coffee.
"Yeah," Ray says. "Like. Somewhere I can grab your ass in public."
"Uh," Walt says. "San Francisco?"
"That's too gay," Ray says.
Walt raises the other eyebrow.
"No, but we're the manly kind of gay," Ray tells him. Walt rolls his eyes and leans over to pinch Ray's side, and when he shrieks Walt smirks at him pointedly.
"But seriously," Ray says, when he's sure Walt won't pinch him again. "I want our marriage to be like, legal and shit. Hey! We could move to Boston!"
"Do you actually want Brad to kill you? I really wonder sometimes," Walt says, but that isn't a no.
Walt also isn't saying no when Ray's printing out apartment listings, and when Ray's giving notice, and when Ray (with a little help from Walt's awesome manly arms) is packing up their entire apartment.
Ray thinks maybe Walt is agreeing with him on this.
The place they find in Boston is cramped, but Ray decides to call it "cozy" and "charming" and "fucking awesome", because positive thinking is important, Rudy's told him, and Ray sometimes even listens when Rudy talks.
Their stuff barely fits, and Ray never even thought they had much stuff until it's all shoved into one tiny apartment that they're paying the same rent for. Walt keeps giving him dubious looks, and Ray hates those looks, because that means his number one sidekick doesn't want to sidekick in that particular adventure.
"Sidekick," Ray says, once it's settled into something that actually looks more like an apartment and less like the land of boxes. "Sidekick, I propose we adventure our way over to Nathaniel!"
"I have no idea why I married you," Walt says, but he says that every day, and Ray doesn't believe him anymore. He's like the boy who cried regret and shame.
When they show up on Nate's doorstep, which is, conveniently, only ten minutes away on public transit--and man, Ray could get used to an underground supercar doing his bidding all the time—he blinks at them for a minute, then smiles a little warily.
"I didn't know you were visiting," Nate says. "Uh. Brad's kind of. Out of the continent."
"We know," Ray says. "Hi neighbour."
Nate, like, Ray thinks Nate actually goes pale. Paler. Something that involves horror.
"I couldn't talk him out of it," Walt says cheerfully, which is such a lie, Walt didn't even try.
"We'd have brought a casserole," Ray adds, "but that's for the people who move in, so hey, where's my casserole, bitch?"
Walt smacks him upside the head then smiles serenely at Nate.
"Uh," Nate says. "Come in. I need to call Brad now." The and warn him is mostly implied by the facial expression. Ray is getting much better at reading people now that he has embraced his inner-Walt-loving-gayness.
Ray and Walt sit on the couch while Nate closes himself in the bathroom, probably to have a good long cry.
"We should fuck on their bed," Ray whispers.
"That's not neighbourly," Walt says primly. "And it's gotten kind of boring, now. We always do that."
Ray sighs and tucks his chin on Walt's shoulder, waits for Nate to finish his panic attack and bring him his damn casserole.
Nate comes out eventually, looking almost calm. "So," he says. "What brings you to Boston? Forever."
"Well," Ray says. "I needed to be able to grab Walt's ass in public."
"He did," Walt agrees.
"That and for the sake of our children," Ray says.
"I see," Nate says, and he sounds totally calm now, like he used to when he was trying to avoid talking back to Encino Man. It's very familiar.
Ray nods. "Did we tell you? We're totally adopting."
"You are," Nate says, voice cracking.
"We are?" Walt asks.
"We are," Ray says.
They sit in silence for a minute. "I'm gonna go make you a casserole," Nate says.
"You do that," Ray says. "We'll be in your bed."
"Of course you will," Nate mutters.
Ray beams at him, and all Nate does is go to the kitchen and start rattling around pots and pans. Ray has the best neighbours.