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“It was an accident.”
Izzy ignored the words, kept staring out the car window at the endless desert landscape rolling past.
“Iz. Did you hear what I said?” Ed never knew when to leave something alone.
“Yes. I’m ignoring it.” Izzy replied.
“Which bit? What I just said, or what I said last night—“
“All of it! Focus on the road.” Izzy immediately regretted the snippy tone.
“Yeah, sure, I’d hate to hit something.” Ed gestured at the miles of empty sand, rocks, and tarmac. “You know the rules - we have to talk about it.”
Ah yes, the Rules. Between Stede fucking Bonnet and relationship therapy, rules had been put in place to stop Ed and Izzy from killing each other. Izzy knew what Stede would say: their relationship was going so well now that Izzy was looking for a reason to sabotage it, to retreat to painful comfort rather than take a step forward into something unknown.
“I am sorry.” Ed said.
“I didn’t mean— You just caught me off guard, alright.” Izzy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Who expects someone to say something like that when, you know…”
It had been Ed’s idea to go on a cross-country road trip while Bonnet was off on some fancy work retreat; Izzy had agreed as long as he got to pick the motels and, well, because he wanted to be with Ed. Izzy had said as much, and Ed hadn’t stopped smiling for weeks.
Last night’s motel had been a kitschy affair, a chain trying to replicate the look of a shitty roadside stop but with luxury amenities. Ed had enjoyed the bath and met Izzy in the bar, flirted with him like they’d just met (ignoring Izzy’s eye-rolling in favour of his blushing cheeks), and they had made out like teenagers with Izzy perched on the hood of their car.
The bed had been good too. Fucking excellent, actually - wide and tall and just the right amount of support for Ed to bend Izzy over the edge of it and rail him into oblivion. Izzy had been delirious, aware only of the feel of Ed grinding into him and the growing wet patch spreading beneath his hips with every orgasm. Ed had been a mess too, talking, babbling, and as he had gotten erratic he had said The Thing.
Marry me.
Izzy had come so hard he dragged Ed with him, ears ringing with overwhelm.
They had cleaned up, gone to bed, and hit the road the next morning without saying a word.
“I’m sorry for how I said it, Iz, not what I said.”
Izzy looked at Ed then. He was keeping his eyes on the road as instructed, but even from the side Izzy could read the determination on Ed’s face.
Marriage wasn’t a new concept to any of them; it usually came up in discussion with curious friends (and the occasional nosy stranger) - there’s three of you, how would it work? More recently Ed had been bringing it up himself.
Hey Iz, Church or venue? What do you think of these rings? These guys had a cupcake tower instead of a cake, cool right?
Ed proposing to Stede had been inevitable, and Izzy had been quietly preparing himself for it for weeks.
“You can’t marry both of us. And I’m not doing one of those fucking commitment ceremonies in a forest or whatever.” Izzy took a deep breath, let it out slowly. Annoyingly, calm breathing techniques worked.
“I don’t want to marry both of you. I want to marry you.” Ed replied.
“How the fuck would we explain that to Stede? Sorry darling, we got bored on the road! Don’t worry, I’ll divorce him in ten years then it’s your turn.”
“He doesn’t want to get married. He never has, he was clear from the start - one marriage was enough for Stede, he doesn’t need another one to prove his feelings.” Ed held up a hand as Izzy took a breath. “And this isn’t a fucking overreaction, alright? I knew what he wanted before we all got together, and I know what I want now - I want to marry you. Why did you think I’ve been asking you so many questions about fucking—- flowers, Iz?”
Izzy had thought he was putting the puzzle pieces together, but Ed had pointed out he was building it face down, flipped it all over, and Izzy could see the full picture now. Ed asking clumsy questions about what Izzy liked, Bonnet taking a suspiciously well-timed trip that would leave them alone for a couple of weeks, Ed coming up with plans to do something they’d always dreamed of doing if they had the time.
“Pull over.” Izzy rasped.
“Oh come on, what are you going to do, walk back to the—“
“Fucking pull over.” Izzy said, unclipping his seatbelt.
The second Ed had the car in park Izzy was on him, climbing into his lap and claiming a kiss. He tried to hide his burning face in Ed’s neck but there was no way Ed was going to miss the way he was shaking.
“So, is uh,” Ed panted, “is that a yes?”
“Yes. Fuck, yes, yes, yes…”
Izzy couldn’t stop saying it, now he knew he could, and Ed’s smile got bigger every time so Izzy chanted it like it was the only word he knew.
They hadn’t fucked in a car since they were desperate horny teenagers. The only difference fucking in a car as desperate horny adults was having to stop to open Ed’s door so he could stretch his bad leg out.
It was amazing how quick the atmosphere changed; Izzy couldn’t stop staring at Ed, didn’t even care when Ed kept taking his eyes off the road to stare back. They dropped the car off at the next stop and Izzy did his best to look normal as Ed answered the customer satisfaction survey questions (“excellent suspension, can take some serious rocking”).
The final stop was the only one Ed hadn’t allowed Izzy to arrange; a fancy hotel, a honeymoon suite full of rose petals (synthetic, for Izzy’s allergies), a steak dinner ending in a glass of champagne containing a ring. It was nearly identical to the cheap one Izzy was already wearing, but the emerald was both real and flanked by diamonds Izzy was surprised to find beautiful.
Izzy went to slide it onto his fingers without much fanfare - they’d already talked about it, Ed had already proposed in a way that suited them far better than a public declaration of love - but Ed kicked him in the shin under the table, got down on one knee, and made a speech that had every table around them crying.
It got them free dessert and enough bottles of champagne they would be set until they had to leave.