"You almost ready," Steve asked as he leaned against the doorjamb of their bedroom.
"I guess. I hate fuckin' bow ties. Why did I let you talk me into this?"
He turned around.
"It's crooked, isn't it? And one side's bigger than the other."
"Maybe a little," Steve said as he walked toward him.
He reached up to yank it off, but Steve grabbed his hand.
"Don't. Let me see."
"Right. Like you're some bow tie expert."
"Mine's good isn't it so shut up and hold still."
Steve undid the tie and adjusted it.
"The ends aren't supposed to be the same length to start off. That's what's wrong to begin with."
He moved around behind him.
"I need to do this like it's mine. Jesus, hold still I said."
"Stupid idea," Billy grumbled
Steve stopped mid loop and walked back in front of him.
"Yeah. Let's just cancel it."
"You don't want to go ahead so let's just cancel it. Everyone can just fuck off home."
"No, that's not what I said."
"Look. We agreed. Tuxes on the beach. And, as you seem to have forgotten, you suggested it, not me. I guess we could go without ties, but then why bother with tuxes. You could wear that God awful Hawaiian shirt that you won't let me throw out. Oh, and those board shorts with the hole in the seat so everyone can see your bare ass because, as we well know, you won't wear underwear. I'll just put on my jeans and that ratty Metallica t-shirt of yours."
"Now you're being ridiculous."
"So, what do you want then?"
"Seriously, Billy. Do you want to drop the tuxes and wear something else? Will that make you happy?"
Billy turned back to the mirror and studied himself.
"I want you to get this bow tie right then I want to marry you like we planned. On the beach, in tuxes. That'll make me happy."