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“What do you think?”
”I think there’s children dying in about eight different countries right now which America is responsible for, do you think the starving children care about whether your suit is Bleu de France or Azure.”
Tobias let out a groan, hitting his head against the mirror. “I just need an answer, Mira. Not a fucking UN statement on the state of our world.”
”I think Bleu de France, because Gabin is French. And you’re getting married in France,” Matilda chimed in. “These snacks are phenomenal, do they give us a gift bag?”
”Maybe we could send a gift bag to Rwanda.”
”I regret this. I regret inviting both of you,” Tobias returned to the changing room, closing the door (because yes this suit shop had actual doors not just curtains.) He flopped down on the seat, and looked at his reflection.
He had never anticipated this. Getting married, meeting someone who he loved enough to want to marry. What if he wasn’t husband material? What if he was like his father? A shitty person? The suit felt too tight, and the top button felt like a collar that was suffocating him but he couldn’t move to open it, he instead thrashed around like some sort of sad beached whale.
Maybe he was a sad beached whale.
“Hey,” there was a soft knock on the door. “We can hear you from outside. Do you want to let me in?” Matilda asked gently.
Tobias didn’t want to let Matilda in, he didn’t want to let anyone in. Maybe Gabin, but Gabin was busy.
Gabin was busy, and Tobias was instead left like a sad beached whale.
So, he opened the lock, letting Matilda step into the stall and looking up at his sister. “Were you nervous before you married Tristan?”
”Yes,” she smiled, giving a soft laugh. “God, I threw up the morning of the wedding. Then I was worried about marrying him because my breath was probably disgusting,” Matilda kneeled in front of him, unbuttoning the top button, and taking the bow tie off. “It’s ok to be nervous, Tobi.”
”It’s just… he’s so funny, and he’s so clever. And he never looks ugly, ever. And I look like a beached whale. Do you think I looked like a beached whale? Not like a fun beached whale, but one that’s got no sea around me, and it’s just there. Lying in the sunlight, dying. Am I dying?”
”I think you have jitters,” Matilda gently ran her thumbs over Tobias’s face, then his shoulders. “I think you’re scared. But, I think Gabin loves you a lot. I don’t think you’re dying, I think you’re just excited but scared.”
Tobias huffed out a breath, letting himself be supported by Matilda for a moment. The suit shop was playing some soft jazz, it smelled of leather and cotton and polish. Everything felt too much all at once, like his skin was being peeled off him layer by layer.
He tried to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, he felt the familiar weight of his headphones covering his ears, the noise drowning out the chatter and the smells. Matilda stayed in front of him, counting his breaths.
Perhaps, he was a little bit in denial. Perhaps, he was panicking.
He loved Gabin, it was strange. That he loved someone so much that he was having a panic attack at the idea of marrying him, and then he had his stag-do tonight.
Who even had stag-do’s anymore? Stag-do’s went to Prague or Amsterdam and made an idiot of themselves. But perhaps stag-do was a generous word, he was simply going out for dinner with Jack.
A stag-do.
Would his father even come to the wedding? Tobias had invited him, but it was now three days to the wedding and he still hadn’t gotten an RSVP. Though Jack was coming, and Jack might as well be his father.
After much thought, Tobias settled for the Bleu de France linen suit, paid a ridiculous amount of money, got his pocket square and flowers, politely dumped Mira and Matilda at their Air BnB before returning to his flat, crawling under the bed and closing his eyes. Gabin had bought him a weighted blanket months ago, and carefully he placed it on his chest and put his headphones on.
He stayed there until he felt someone coming to lie beside him, but he didn’t jump, he knew it was Gabin. He could recognise that cologne anywhere.
“Do you think I’m a beached up whale?” Tobias asked.
“Non?” Gabin frowned, looking at Tobias. “A beached up whale? How do you mean?”
”Like, eh. I am a whale, ok? Maybe a Humpback whale, or a killer whale?”
”Ah, like Free Willy?”
”Yes. Except Willy isn’t accurate, because letting a whale who had been held in captivity for so long into the wild, he wouldn’t know how to survive. So they killed him. But maybe I was a humpback whale, ok? The big ones and one day I got washed up on the beach with no water, so I died.”
”Why are you dying, are you ill? Do I need to call a doctor?”
”No this is a metaphor.”
”It’s very confusing,” Gabin whispered. ”This is a very confusing metaphor.”
”If I was a dried up whale on the beach, dying, would you still love me?”
”Tobias…” Gabin turned over, taking one of his hands. “I would carry buckets of water to you, I would sit by you until the sea took you and even then, I would sit by the shoreline every morning just to hear your whale song.”
Tobias was not going to cry. He swallowed, taking a deep breath. “That’s really romantic,” he choked out.
Gabin smiled at him, kissing his knuckles. “And I mean it, I would tend to you until you were free. You might think you’re a beached up whale, but to me, you are a powerful reminder of the wonders of the sea.”
”I am scared to get married.”
Gabin hummed softly, gently tucking some hair behind Tobias’s ear.
“Ok.”
”I am scared, because I love you. And I keep expecting you to walk away, because I love you. And I don’t think I’m husband material. I think I’m at best, I’m just Tobias.”
”And I love as just Tobias,” Gabin rested his chin on Tobias’s chest. “I don’t expect you to be husband material. I don’t want you to be something you’re not. I love you for being Tobias, my Tobias. If that means you’re a beached up whale, then that means I love a beached up whale.”
Tobias smiled at him, touching Gabin’s lips and wiping his eyes. “I have to get ready for dinner with Jack.”
”Do you feel a little better?”
”I do,” he kissed Gabin’s lips, letting his partner guide him from under the bed, and took a moment to just look at Gabin. He was working hard, his muscles had begun to fill out, and his face, there was a softness now to Gabin’s eyes that he hadn’t had before.
Tobias was so deeply in love with him.
“Enjoy dinner with Jack, d’acc? I’m going out with a few friends, but I’ll be home tonight.”
”Fine,” Tobias gave him a soft kiss, maybe he wasn’t a beached whale. Maybe he was something that was deserving of love.
Dinner with Jack firmly reminded Tobias why he moved permanently to Paris.
“So, she’s pregnant. Again. Which is fine, like good for her. Except not good for her, because the planet has too many people on it, so surely we should think about not procreating and rather just dying.”
”I’m vegetarian now,” Tobias looked at the menu, struggling to find a vegetarian option.
”What? Why? With your iron levels, I don’t think that’s the best idea for you, Tobias. I think you should stick to eating-“
”Dead animals? I don’t want to keep eating dead animals, Jack. Do you know how many fish I’ve killed? It changes you.”
Jack looked at Tobias, taking a deep breath then looking at the menu. “We can go somewhere else. I don’t think this place does veggie.”
”Please.”
And that was how Tobias ended up in some cafe down an alleyway, with sticky floors and flickering lights. It was unlike anything he’d seen before, and least of all expected Jack to want to eat here.
But, the Google reviews had nothing but five stars.
“So, you’re in love. That’s cute. I’m really happy for you, and you’ve moved to Paris! Look at you go, Tobias. Damn, if I could go back and tell baby Tobias what was in store.”
Tobias swallowed, coughing and looking at his hands. “I want you to walk me down the aisle.”
Jack choked on his soup, hitting his chest and looking at Tobias.
”What?”
”Well. Gabin said he doesn’t want to walk down the aisle, but he said he wants me too because it’s traditional, right? But my Grandpa Alfie died, and my father hasn’t RSVP’d, so. You’re basically my father, Jack.”
”Alfie died? I’m sorry, Tobias. I know you were close. I… is that what you want? For me to do that?”
”Yes.”
”God, Tobias. You know, I remember when you first started. All that angst, and hurt, and the way you danced. It was unlike anything I’d seen before, you were so hungry to be understood. And I couldn’t help you in the way you needed,” he sighed. “I”m sorry I couldn’t help you then.”
“But you did help me, in your slightly chaotic way, you helped.”
Jack sighed, looking at the sad soup and then looking back at Tobias.
“You know, my Pops, he never got help. Well, technically he was my godfather but he was there for every birthday. He was like my dad, but also maybe my uncle too?”
”There’s a lot of layers to this story,” Tobias whispered.
“My Pops. He didn’t get help. Or maybe he did, but he didn’t want to get help. So, he died. Overdosed actually. Super sad.”
”Why are you telling me this before my wedding?”
”I’m just saying, I’m glad you got help when you needed it. I’m glad you got out, and now look at you, you’re getting married!”
”This speech wasn’t as inspiring as I think it sounded in your mind.”
”Listen, I’m going to do my best,” Tobias saw tears in Jack’s eyes. “And I’ll make sure that you get support.”
Tobias knew it would be rude to leave, he knew that because Jack was very clearly going through something. The emotions seemed to be spilling out.
”I am going out for a cigarette.”
Quickly and promptly, Tobias went out to the front of the cafe and lit the cigarette. He took a moment to enjoy the silence, before the rain started.
He had two seconds to try and understand how to console whatever the fuck Jack was going through, prepare himself because he was getting married, and also eat the lumpy soup.
“Cheyenne is arriving tomorrow?” He asked, taking his seat.
”I think so,” Jack finished his soup, waving the waiter down to order the next course. “I think she’ll probably spend some time with her mom, Mishi is away, then we’ll meet up.”
”I didn’t know you both had a thing going.”
“We don’t,” Jack said far too quickly for someone who was trying to say he was ‘not a thing.’
”Alright,” Tobias shrugged. “Good, l’m glad you don’t have a thing going? With Cheyenne?”
”Yeah,” Jack said, nodding and downing his drink in one. This was turning into the saddest stag-do in existence perhaps.
“I think I’m going to go home,” Tobias announced, finishing the fish course.
“Sure,” Jack nodded, looking out the window. “I love Paris, I’m glad to be here. With you. Tobias, my dear Tobias.”
Tobias nodded, checking his phone. “I texted you the wedding plans, didn’t I? You know the schedule?”
”Yes. As your temporary step in father, I won’t let you down,” Jack said with a salute. Tobias nodded, giving Jack a pat on the shoulder before making a swift exit to his flat.
Tobias didn’t exactly know what the protocol for weddings was, especially when you were the one getting married. Tobias didn’t want a stag do, he didn’t want all the traditions, he just wanted to get married to Gabin.
But he owed it to Jack, to Cheyenne and Genevieve and Matilda and Mira to be included on this day, it was weird. Weddings were weird.
Thoughts about marriage swirled inside his mind as he sat on their balcony, looking down onto the street. He always loved being in the city when it rained, how the traffic lights made the puddles change colours and how the world just seemed more colourful when it rained. He sat in silence, smoking as he watched couples running to take shelter, or the odd dancing couple (their form was terrible.)
His thoughts didn’t quieten until Gabin came beside him, taking the cigarette from between his fingers. “You shouldn’t smoke, mon Cher. Terrible habit.”
”I’m stressed,” Tobias answered, getting a sympathetic noise from Gabin.
“It’ll be over soon, ok? Then no more wedding talk. No more planing. We can go on our honeymoon, and have amazing sex,” Gabin teased.
Tobias looked at him, truly looked at him. “You don’t regret this, do you? Like, you don’t think we’re going to regret this?”
”Tobias,” Gabin said gently. “I promise, I’m not going to regret any of this.”
Tobias nodded, taking another deep breath and stealing his cigarette back.
“Let’s go to bed, love,” Gabin murmured, kissing Tobias’s head and taking his hand and without much objection, Tobias let Gabin lead him away from his people watching.
/./
Paris was nice but it was warm.
Or maybe it was the nerves, he was nervous.
Would he look sweaty in his wedding photos? Tobias didn’t want to look sweaty, there was no way anyone looked sexy and sweaty.
Maybe he needed to throw up.
“Hey,” Jack smiled, opening his arms. “There’s my champ. Tobias, you look great, really. You’re killing it.”
”I think I’m having a heart attack.”
”No,” Jack squeezed his shoulder. “I remember the first time I got married. I nearly fell walking down the aisle.”
Tobias hadn’t considered this, what if that happened to him? What if his knee flared up and he fell? And no one could catch him.
Tobias swallowed, and Cheyenne hit Jack’s shoulder. “Idiot, you are making him worried.”
”It took me four attempts to walk down the aisle.”
”Ignore him. There is only one Gabin, so you are only getting married once,” Cheyenne said firmly. “No one else would put up with you the same way he does.”
Tobias ran his hand along his thighs, making himself breathe. He wanted Gabin in the room with him, but they had spent the night apart. Gabin insisted that if they were getting married, they were doing it properly.
Fuck Gabin for wanting to be traditional.
Tobias found his cigarettes, cracking the window open and forcing himself to breathe.
“Since when did you smoke?” Mira asked, helping plait flowers into Matilda’s hair.
“Stress.”
”No he’s turning native,” Cheyenne said, fixing Jack’s bow tie. “Who is with Gabin?”
”Geneive, Mishi, a few dancers and a few ones from the boxing club.”
“No family?” Jack asked, and the silence was his answer.
Tobias couldn’t believe this was happening. This was real, and he kept having to repeat it to himself as he stood outside the doors with Jack beside him, he could hear Matilda on the piano.
Would it be bad if he threw up in the plant beside him? It did look like a lovely flower, but he would rather aim his vomit there than on his shoes.
“C’mon,” Jack said gently, taking Tobias by his elbow. “One step in front of the other, just like when you did the Nutcracker, one step in front of the other.”
He did that, one step in front of the other, until he was beside Gabin.
Gabin, who was wearing a black suit with a green carnation on the lapel. Gabin, who had his hair neatly tied back with silver charms plaited in, and smelt of home. Gabin, who Tobias was going to marry. Today.
Tobias smiled, feeling Gabin stand close to him, then gently linking their pinkies.
“Mon amour, ma vie, mon âme soeur,” Gabin breathed, smiling at him. He took a deep breath. “Je te cherirai toujours.”
“Gabin, I thank whatever God exists every day that you waltzed into my life. Or, should I say, you more kicked the doors open whether I was ready or not. But, you listened to me. You… saw me,” Tobias took his hands. “You saw me, in a way I have never been seen before.”
There was a shimmer in Gabin’s eyes that he recognised as tears.
”And I’ll be dreaming my dreams with you,” Tobias whispered. “All my futures, all my dreams, now have you in them.”
”Oh my god,” Jack choked out.
The minister said some more words, most of which Tobias didn’t listen too. All he could think about was his hands in Gabin’s, the soft breeze coming through the window, and how perfect the light made Gabin look.
He swallowed the lump in his throat just in time to say ‘I do’ and kissed Gabin as if his very life depended on it.
When they signed the paperwork, took the photos, and returned to the dinner, Tobias was beginning to get tired, but they had speeches now.
Or, well. Attempts at speeches.
Jack couldn’t finish his from crying, and Genevieve got weepy, but not as bad as Jack. Tobias thought that was it, until Gabin stood up.
”This might be the shortest marriage, for I feel Tobias will divorce me after this,” he started, earning a chuckle but Tobias was glaring at him.
”Sometime ago, Tobias went back to New York whilst I stayed here,” Gabin explained, clearing his throat. “I, naturally, missed him. And he missed me too, so much so that every night he sent me a voice note.”
Tobias looked down at the meal in front of him, the knives beside his plate. Would it be traumatic if he murdered Gabin in front of their guests?
”Hello, it’s Tuesday evening. I’m nowhere, because I’m not with you. It’s colder today, I can see my breath. I love you.
Hello, it’s Thursday morning. I’m looking over the city, and I can’t hear your laugh. It’s raining, and I love you.
Hello, it’s Friday night. I’m downtown, standing outside a bar in the middle of New York. I miss kissing you. It’s dry today, but cold. I love you.
Hello, It’s Sunday morning. I’m sitting eating breakfast, and I think we should live together somewhere. It’s raining and cold. I love you.
Hello, I… I visited Jules’s grave today, it’s Monday afternoon. It’s grey skies, almost the same shade as their eyes. I can’t wait to hug you. I love you.
Gabin? I love you.”
Tobias looked at Gabin, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat.
”Gabin may have thought he was the only one who prepared something, but he is not.
I remember arriving in Paris, and nothing made sense. It still doesn’t, really. I hate the toothpaste, and I hate the rats. But, I found someone I don’t hate, who makes me hate Paris less,” Tobias took Gabin’s hand. “I don’t think I want to remember my life before you, I think my life only began when you let me love you and for that, I am grateful,” Tobias smiled at him. “I am grateful, Gabin, that I get to have you by my side now and forever. And if there is another life after this one, I will find you there. Even if we’re both whales, I think there is not a world where we don’t love each other.”
”Fuck,” Jack choked out, getting a pat this time from Cheyenne.
“I am so lucky to be loved by you,” Tobias finished. “But you’re also lucky to be loved by me.”
”That I am, Maverick.”
So tenderly, Gabin kissed Tobias’s lips and Tobias finally understood why their love could be called a sin, because feeling Gabin’s lips on his was holy and Tobias was nothing more than a pilgrim.
At some point in the middle of the drinking and dancing, Tobias and Gabin sneaked away to the roof, a bottle of champagne and a packet of cigarettes between them.
“To new beginnings?” Gabin smiled.
”To new beginnings,” Tobias answered, kissing his husband’s lips.
His husband, Gabin Roux-Bell. His husband.
Tobias was never going to stop saying those words.