Archive of Our Own

"So, Mr. LeFleur, right? " Julian watches from the hallway opening as Ricky lets the pair of smartly dressed young professionals in. "We're from the Bank of Canada, to discuss your mortgage for this trailer. The number we have on file for you was for a, uh, a sex-tips hotline, so we, we decided we should come see you, uh, in person." A pause. "We realized we don’t have a copy of your marriage certificate on file?" Her voice lilts up at the end like it's a question rather than a statement.

This has his full attention, and Julian eyes the scene with much curiosity. Marriage certificate? Ricky got married and didn't tell him? Seriously? The woman continues, "We just need another copy for our file, and we can be on our way."

"Well," Ricky rubs his chin with a hand and nods slowly. He hasn't shaved in a few days, and he has that light prickle of stubble Julian thinks sort of suits him. "I don't get why you don't have one on file. That seems like a you problem, not an us problem."

"Well, actually, it is a 'you'--" The woman makes air quotes with her fingers. "--problem because it appears you never actually submitted one. But that's okay, we're just here to collect it and then we'll be out of your hair." The bank woman turns to Julian. "Ah! You must be the husband?"

Julian feels his jaw slack.

"Sir?" The woman glances at her clipboard. "Julian? You're married to Mr. LeFleur, correct?"

Julian blinks. What? "Uh, no?" He's never seen Ricky react so quickly, jumping forward to put an arm around Julian, smiling in the way he only does when he's talking to mall cops or teachers.

"I know, dear," Ricky gives Julian a pat on the shoulder, and Julian becomes suddenly aware of his unknown involvement in another one of Ricky's scams. "It really does feel like we're back to being engaged since we're getting our vows renewed and everything." Julian blinks and tries to smile. He's sure his face must be turning red.

The bank employees smile back. "Getting your vows renewed?"

"And, I mean, it was supposed to be a surprise, but the reason I don't have the certificate is because I'm getting it framed," Ricky pats Julian again, giving him a markedly un-Ricky look of love. "For the vow renewal." Julian just stares.

"Oh," The bank lady holds her clipboard to her chest. "That's so sweet! I love vow renewals! Well, how about we come to the ceremony, and we can get a copy of it there?"

Ricky-- and it always amazes Julian-- doesn't even blink. "Sure! The more the merrimer!" He says. "This Saturday. Sometime in the morning, I don't fuckin' know. What did Lucy say? 11? Yeah, 11. Here, outside. I'll have a copy for ya." He's up and ushering them towards the door, waving his arms a bit. "See ya then, goodbye." And the door's closed before they can even reply.

"Shit," Ricky mutters. He's already moving towards the back to get the plants they hid, brushing by Julian. "I can't believe I have to give them a certificate. The fuck? Since when is that needed to prove you're married? What cocksucking bullshit." He's pulling some plants back to the main area. "Are you gonna help me or not here, Julian?"

But Julian doesn't move. "What the hell was that?"

Ricky's trying to put the tray into the cupboards he's set up with tinfoil and grow lamps. "What was what?"

"You know what! Those fucking bank guys? What were they talking about?"

Ricky heaves a dramatic sigh. "Look," He begins. "How do you think I got this place? Fucking-- Fucking leper-kan magic?"

Julian blinks. "Do I want to know?"

"Well, do you want to know or not? Because I'm getting pretty confuseded here myself, so..."

"Christ. Yes. I want to know. Why exactly are we married?"

Ricky motions for him to sit down, grabbing a beer from the fridge. "Do you want more?" He points at Julian's glass, and Julian shakes his head. When they're both seated, Ricky begins to matter-of-factly explain that he doesn't exactly have the best credit score. In fact, it's so low the mortgage guy laughed in his face when he went to apply to get this trailer, and you can imagine how that went. So Sarah suggested he find someone with good credit and put them on the loan, but when he asked her, she laughed too. And as it turns out, no one was willing to do it. “Not even frickin' Bubbles! Can you believe that? You spend your whole life friends with someone and they won't even go halfsies on a loan with you. Well, Corey and Trevor wanted to, duh, but their credit score is worse than mine, for some reason, so fuck those guys.” 

Eventually, Sarah was telling him how, after she and Lucy got married, they were able to mortgage a trailer together, and that gave Ricky an idea. Who has really good credit and could get a loan? Julian. Who was he closest to? Julian. Who could he convince Barb he was married to? Julian .

(At this point Julian has to put his drink down to not break the glass.)

So after being told by the bank he needed an ILA mortgage document (whatever that means) signed by a lawyer stating his partner knows what's going on and is okay with it--

"And you didn't stop to even think about asking me?" Julian interrupts, lifting his head from his hands.

"You wouldn't have signed it," Ricky states, matter of fact, and Julian puts his head back in his hands. Ricky continues to explain how he got J-Roc to pose as Julian in an interview with a lawyer. Since the lawyer's third-party, the bank people have no idea who the fuck is who! Isn't that sweet? (Julian just groans into his hands.) So now he has a sweet new trailer and is growing more dope than he ever has before. And he's gonna be rich! Forget Freedom 35, this is Freedom Next Year! 

Julian groans through his fingers, audibly mourning his credit score as Ricky continues speaking, "Look, man, I'm gonna pay it. I just gotta sell everything." Ricky takes a swig of his beer, pausing. "And grow it." He waves a hand dismissively, as if it's all under control. "And I'm growing so much now, I've got a huge backlog of orders-- all those guards, some government guys, they're all on preorder. We're gonna be rich, Jules. You should be thanking me."

Julian stands abruptly, unable to stop his frustration. "No," Julian paces as he speaks, tensing. Ricky is watching him, chest puffed out in that way it does when he's getting defensive. Julian almost rolls his eyes at this, so predictable it would be comforting if he weren't so pissed off. "No, you got this trailer because of me, otherwise you'd be back to three pots in the back of your car again." He runs a hand through his hair, trying to stop his agitated shaking. "I can't believe you went this far without asking me."

Ricky stares. "Well," He speaks slowly like this is all too obvious. "I told you, you woulda said no. And, form the wrecker, I was right."

Julian stops his pacing a moment to look at his friend. "Ricky," Julian begins, grinding his teeth. "I'm really-- I'm really fucking pissed right now, Rick." When Ricky begins to get defensive again, Julian cuts him off. "You need to figure out how to fix this." He strides to the door, throwing one last glance at his friend, who is staring at him with wide eyes, palms up like he can't understand why Julian's so mad. He looks like he's genuinely hurt, but Julian can't imagine why. " Now ." He says before slamming the door and barreling out into the street. The irritation is making his head hot, and he takes a sip of his drink in an attempt to cool down.

Despite all the anger, he isn't really surprised. If someone had told him Ricky would steal his identity to get a mortgage for a trailer so he could grow more dope, Julian would've just nodded in agreement. It almost feels like the plot of a shitty mockumentary TV show.

There is a part of him, while he won't admit it, that knows Ricky will get the money, and that's what surprises him the most. It will happen, Ricky just has to finish growing and harvesting and selling. And he can do that. Shit, it's the one thing he can really do well.

But Julian can't help the flip of his stomach remembering about that stupid fucking marriage certificate. What an idea! And the bankers, they really believe they're together! He almost laughs aloud, vaguely aware that he can see it, too.

------

Mr. Lahey is perched behind Ricky's trashcans, eyeing the business-casual-clad newcomers with suspicion. When Ricky had moved into that new doublewide, Lahey had been shocked. He had pressed Barbara about it, but in her usual eye-rolling way she had sidestepped his questions with frustrating annoyance. Ricky had paid the down payment upfront, she told him, and so far he hadn't missed a single month's lot fees. It was too good to be true, and Lahey hadn't spent his whole life watching these boys to be unaware when something was up. So when the strangers leave Ricky's trailer, he takes it upon himself to make introductions. They aren't hesitant to explain where they're from, though they back up each time he gets within arm's length, scrunching their noses with polite smiles.

"And of course, we'll be back for the ceremony later this week," the woman says.

Lahey falters. "Ceremony?" But the question is never answered as Sarah and Lucy are walking towards them, Trevor and Corey fighting over a ball behind them.

"Hello, Mr. Lahey," Sarah says. "What are you doing?"

Lahey turns, giving her his best innocent smile. "Why, just talking to these fine bankers here about--" He waves his hand. "About… Your little friend, Ricky."

The bankers back off, ready to leave. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Mr. Lahey." The woman gives a wave before they both return to their car. Lahey returns the goodbye, still sporting that well-intentioned smile.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sarah asks once the bankers are gone.

"Sarah!" Trevor runs up to her. "Corey won't give me the ball back."

"Hold on," Sarah says to Lahey and turns to the boys. "Didn't I tell you two to share? Give me that." She holds a hand out for the ball which Corey dutifully returns to her. She throws it down the road and the two boys break into a sprint. "Well?"

"Can't I just-- Ask a few questions?" He leans in. "I'm the trailer park supervisor." He emphasizes supervisor, holding up a finger and a crooked smile.

"You're drunk is what you are," Lucy rolls her eyes at him.

Mr. Lahey eyes them suspiciously. "Listen, I’m on to him, got it?" He promptly turns and stalks off into the park. As the supervisor leaves, Corey and Trevor return with the ball, both holding a side as they hand it to Sarah to throw again.

-----

Later that day, as would be expected, Corey and Trevor lose the ball. Neither can decide exactly whose fault it is, and the bickering is beginning to transform into a vague form of wrestling that involves more writhing in the grass than actual hand-to-hand combat. Sarah had tried to stop them but then decided maybe this would be a good way for them to vent their frustrations. Lucy joins in to watch, too, curious if Sarah's hypothesis would prove true.

"What are they arguing about?" Asks Julian, walking up the steps to join them in leaning on their porch railing.

"Trevor lost the ball and they're fighting about it." Sarah looks over at him. Julian's face is tight, his stance is rigid, and the ice in his drink has melted. Strange.

He looks at the boys. "Jesus."

"Well," Lucy says. "It's good for them. They need to burn off some energy." She pauses to stare at Julian, too, before exchanging a glance with Sarah. "Are you okay? You look… unusual."

Julian frowns, unsure of what to say to that. He takes a long sip of his drink, the only sound being the faint grunting and arguing of Corey and Trevor on the lawn.

"You boys better not hurt each other!" Sarah calls, and the two calm down a moment before launching again into scrambling on the grass. "I am never going to get those grass stains out."

Julian tries to joke, "Well, at least they’re not much better at fighting than running a business." 

Sarah shoots him a dull frown. "Give 'em a break, you're always ripping on those two."

"No, Ricky's always ripping on them," Lucy corrects, and they both stare at Julian as if waiting for some big announcement. Julian has indeed come to ask them for advice-- which it appears they both already understand-- but his mouth is dry, and no number of sips from his drink can wet it enough to speak. Long shadows crawl across the park as the sun makes its descent, and a chill begins to prickle the air. Sarah calls the boys inside for dinner, leaving Lucy and Julian alone on the porch. He still hasn't spoken, so Lucy prompts him.

"Ricky." She raises her eyebrows. "Have you seen him, uh, today?"

Julian blinks at her. "Yeah," he starts, fingering the rim of his glass.

"I assume you know about the trailer, then."

Julian heaves a sigh, looking out at the fading light. "Yes." Really, how does she know?

"And you're pissed?"

 "I," he pauses, licking his lips, because of course he's pissed, right? But for some reason, he just can't find it in himself to agree. "Uh, I don't know."

Lucy stares at him, fingering her pack of Marlboros. She takes a deep breath. "You know he loves you, right?"

"Lucy, Christ--" Julian gapes, leans back to look at her. Out of nowhere!

"No, Julian,  I'm serious." She puts down the pack, really stares at him, but Julian is deftly avoiding eye contact, hoping he isn't as red as he feels. "It's always Julian this, Julian that. And I really thought it was just because you're his best friend but, I mean, I don't know..."

"This is ridiculous--"

"Do you think it was Sarah's idea, the whole marriage loan thing? I'm sure he said it was." This makes Julian pause, actually looking back at her. "It was totally his idea. He even had this whole idea for a fake wedding ceremony to really convince Barb. But of course, we thought that would freak you out, so we said no way." She shrugs. "I'm surprised you didn't realize earlier, honestly."

Julian can't speak. He knows his face must be as red as a tomato and is grateful for the obscurity of the night.

"I mean, even Barb thinks you guys are gay--"

" Thinks ? Present tense?"

"-- why else would she let Ricky get away with this?" Lucy is giving him that sly look she used to give him in junior high, the one he could never figure out. "She just figured you guys are on the low, like Lahey and Randy."

There's a clattering down the road. "Speaking of," she says, rolling her eyes. Lahey and Randy are bumbling down the road towards them. "I'm not dealing with this," she says as she goes inside, leaving a dazed Julian alone to field Lahey's questions about whatever Ricky is doing.

-------

Julian finds he can't sleep. He's sitting in front of the TV, watching reruns of Cheers, carefully pouring the last of his liquor into his glass. The more he tries to avoid it, the more the image of Ricky's confused, almost betrayed face keeps creeping into his mind. It gnaws at him, boring a hole in his stomach. Lucy's full of shit, he tells himself. And love is too big a word for whatever Ricky and him have. Not that there even is anything "there" in the first place. Christ. He throws back the rest of his drink.

When he stands to get his jacket, restless, he's just drunk enough that he wobbles but not enough to drown out that sinking feeling. He quickly finds himself walking the familiar dirt path to Bubbles' shed. Making small steps, undetermined, he tries to force his feet to turn around. Every ten steps or so, he makes a detour to kick a can or bottle off the road. When he takes a moment to stop outside Sarah and Lucy's trailer, their lights are off.

Before he knows it, he's at Bubbles' door, and his hand is poised to knock. He takes a deep breath, and after a few raps, Bubbles appears with amused befuddlement. He's in his pajamas and behind him a couple of his kitties are seated on his bed. Balancing a can opener and a tin of kitty food, he steps back to let Julian into the cramped space. Julian takes to leaning against the wall, watching Bubbles carefully crack open the tins of food in front of his patient kittens.

Bubbles finally breaks the silence. "It's pretty late," he says. Julian tries to focus on the sound of purring instead of the way his heart is hammering in his chest. "What's gotcha all bent out of shape?"

"I'm not bent out of shape," is Julian's immediate reply, out of his mouth before he can even register it. Bubbles just gives him a look.

"So I guess you, uh, heard about Ricky and the trailer?"

"God, does everyone know about this but me?"

"Yes." Bubbles is mixing the food with a fork. "And anything that bothers you so much that you don't have a drink in your hand probably has to do with Ricky." 

Julian blinks. His hand clenches where the glass should be. "Look, Bubbles." He draws a long breath. "I'm just annoy-- I mean, what do I--" He heaves a frustrated sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"It's not a crime to care about someone, you know." Bubbles is still looking down. Julian feels like he needs to puke. What is it with everyone jumping to conclusions around here? "And he cares about you, too." One of the kittens has wormed its way into Bubble's lap, trying to steal sniffs of the can. " Really cares about you. Even if he's bad at showing it. I've always known it, but I knew it for sure when we were in prison, you remember? When we were playing badminton all the time? And you guys were-- uh, were really, really close ?" When Julian doesn't reply, Bubbles looks up and sighs. "Julian, do you want him to sell the dope or not?"

Julian just nods.

"Then I think you know what you have to do. Cuz, cuz if he loses that trailer, well, he'll lose all the dope, too, and he'll go back to jail on top of that. Alone ."

Julian is almost surprised to feel his stomach twist at the thought of it. "I'm--" He swallows thickly. "I guess I am happy he's finally living in a real trailer, not his fuckin' car." The two friends eye each other, Bubbles giving him that indecipherable look that everyone seems to love these days. "And doin' what he's good at, with the growing dope. I couldn't, uh, I couldn't do that, so." He waves a hand. "So there." For it being the first time he's not constantly sipping from his signature glass, Julian feels strangely tipsy.

Finally letting the kittens at the food, Bubbles carefully scratches their heads. "Then you know what to do. If not for Ricky, at least for yourself, Julian." He pauses, looks up. "But I know it'll be for Ricky, cuz, well, that's just how you are. He fucks up and everyone ditches him to deal with it, but you don't. You always come back. Even when you got a reason to be mad, you always come back to him." Another long pause, like Bubbles is trying to make sure Julian is understanding. "That's more than loyalty, Julian. You know?"

Julian stands up. "Christ, Bubbles," He realizes his face must be brilliantly red. "Cut it out." But he knows Bubbles can see right through him, and he knows Bubbles is about a million years wiser than he gets credit for, so Julian doesn't fight it, just makes his way home as restless as before.

---

They take Julian's car downtown because Ricky's is covered in shit and still missing its doors. Julian tries to believe it isn't awkward, and to some extent he's right. Ricky is complaining loudly, puffing on his third cigarette in this car ride alone. As Julian parks the car, he catches himself grinding his teeth, nervous about getting this stupid certificate, but Ricky's easy confidence is something comforting to cling to. As he follows Ricky into the Business Registration Unit downtown, entirely unsure of how exactly Ricky's getting the paper, Julian reminds himself Ricky's gotten them out of jams a hundred times worse than this. He can't help a little smile in Ricky's direction because his ability to bullshit, the way he's so self-assured when it comes to this sort of thing, really is admirable.

"I sell this guy hash all the time," Ricky half-whispers to him as they walk into the office. The secretary eyes him, and Ricky insists he tells his boss that Ricky is here.

When the young man returns, he's got some jolly looking fat guy in tow, who grins toothily when he sees Ricky, lifting the desk's door to step into the waiting area. "Ricky!" He shoots out an arm, giving Ricky a hearty handshake, before presenting him with the certificate. The secretary is staring at them until his boss tells him to go check some meter, leading the young man to stand and disappear into the offices behind them. The boss is grinning still, happily stuffing Ricky's brown paper bundle into his pocket. "Congratulations, Rick! I never saw you as a settle-down type, but, hey, whatever floats your boat, right?"

Julian swears he can see Ricky's face tinge with red, and on the way out, he stops Ricky. "Did you tell him we're actually together? Like, married, I mean?"

Ricky shoots him a sideways glance. His face is definitely red. "Julian, we own a trailer together" is all he says.

When they reach the hallway to the glass exit door, Ricky stops so suddenly Julian slams into his back. "Fuck! Do you see that?" Ricky whisper-yells, and when Julian peeks around the corner he finds Officer George Green, talking to the secretary about something just outside the building. "How the hell did that rat bastard secretary get out there so fast?"

Julian swallows hard. "It's probably nothing--" But Ricky cuts him off.

"Nothing? I saw the way that guy was looking at us…" He growls. "Probably a homophone!"

"Rick--"

"And why do they need a fucking certifercat for a stupid morgate anyway?!" He's almost yelling, and Julian shushes him desperately. "I can't go back to jail, I got a whole trailer of dope growing, and it's growing goodly, too!"

Julian feels his face heat up, that familiar tinging in his stomach.

"This is such bullshit! And after I gave that guy more hash than I said I would, too!" Ricky is stomping around in that childish way he does when he's upset, and Julian finds himself grabbing Ricky by the shoulders to calm him down. Their faces are half a foot apart, which, to his horror, makes his face heat up even more.

"Look, Rick, it's okay. It's probably about something else completely." Julian does his best to calm Ricky down, but Ricky is red with frustration.

"And I can't go to prison alone !" He continues his rant, waving his arms wildly even under Julian's grip. "Because being in jail alone sucks . It sucks hugely. Fucking hugely, Julian! Getting drunk and smokin' and all that's fun but-- but it's not, not the same by myself ." He sort of peters off at the end of his sentence, eyes unfocused and almost confused.

Julian squints at him. "But, you've still got some buddies in there, though, don't you?"

"Yeah, but," Ricky is quiet, looking away in a most un-Ricky way. "But, they're not-- it's not the same-- I mean, you an' me have more fun, you know? And more than, than the banging . Getting drunk and high without you just isn't the same." He swallows hard, deftly changes the subject. "And what about my dope, too?! We gotta go get the dope--!" And he's worked himself into a frenzy again, waving his arms as Julian tries once more to calm him down.

"Look-- look, if we get caught, I'll, I'll take the blame, okay?" Julian can't believe he's saying it. He especially can't believe he means it. Ricky blinks, taken off guard. "You can finish growing your dope and, and, and it'll be cool. It would only be, like, a six-month charge, anyway. I've done way longer." He pauses. "You can bail me out. Once you pay off the trailer, of course."

Ricky stares at him. "Julian," He speaks slowly as if he's surprised Julian doesn't understand what he's saying. "You can't go alone, either. We go together." He pauses. "We always go together." And it dawns on Julian their faces are less than a hand length apart, and they're staring right at each other, but he doesn't look away because he can feel something burning in him, and he knows Ricky can feel it too. Julian can't help it; he feels like it's now or never and everything he's been holding inside, for years , comes bubbling up.

"Ricky," he speaks before he can stop himself. The words are tumbling out at hyper speed, and he knows he's the reddest he's ever been. "I know exactly what you're saying. It feels wrong when we're not in there together… When I was alone that one time, prison actually sucked for once, and it took me forever to figure out why but-- it, it was because I was alone . I mean, 'cuz you weren't there. I was drinking and smoking and hanging out with the guys, like we always do, but-- but it sucked . Really, it sucked , Rick. It's not the liquor or the dope or anything. It's, uh, it's you."

Ricky stops his frantic wriggling, falling into stillness as he listens to Julian's speech. "Julian," He stares at him. "That was…" He clears his throat. "That was… really gay, Jules. I get why Barb believed me about the marriage thingy." And his face lights up with the smile that makes Julian's stomach flip in an embarrassingly grade 10 way.

" Everyone thinks we're together." Julian can't help but smile at the whole situation. When Ricky raises his eyebrows, he continues. "Seriously. Sarah, Lucy. Bubbles ." This makes Ricky chuckle.

"Well, no shit Bubbles knows. He's known us since diapers."

"He's seen everything. Did you know he knows about us screwing in prison?"

"Are you shitting me?" Ricky raises his brows again. " That's why he's been being so weird!"

"Weird?"

"Yeah, he kept tellin' me to tell you something, and I couldn't get what the fuck he was talking about."

Julian resists the urge to put his head in his hands. "He did that to me, too, sort of."

They take a moment to stare at each other, uncontrollable childish smiles wearing their cheeks red. It lasts only a few moments longer before George Green comes around the corner to find them. Ricky sucks in a breath as if he's about to fling himself into an argument, but Green beats him to it.

"Hey boys," He smiles at them. "What are you fellas doing around here?"

Before Ricky can incriminate himself, Julian tries to speak. "Well, hello George, we're just, uh..." but he can't think of anything, his brain going blank. He blinks.

Ricky, as always, is right there. "We're just getting a new copy of our marriage certificate." He says, holding up the paper. George Green gives them a look. He takes the paper and scans it, like he can't believe what he's seeing, before handing it back.

"Well," He frowns. "I guess I owe Barbara some money."

"What?" Julian asks.

"Damn it!" Ricky shouts, throwing up his hands. "If I'd known they were betting on us, I woulda had Bubbles put some money in!" Julian rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm out a couple hundred bucks, damn it." Green shakes his head. "I mean Ricky was obvious but you, Julian? Though I guess I should've assumed with all those weirdly tight shirts." This makes Julian sputter and Ricky chuckle. "Well, congratulations, boys." Green leaves with a wave, obviously mourning the future lightness of his wallet. "Don't celebrate too much!"

-----

The ceremony is outside Ricky's new trailer. He's thrown some red streams haphazardly onto his roof, which he keeps having to re-throw because they're rolling off. Sarah and Lucy are hastily making paper flowers and taping them to the railing of the porch with duct tape while Corey and Trevor lug jugs of liquor onto a fold-out table. Bubbles, reluctantly pressured into the role of the officiant, is shuffling around in a suit twice his size. "It's actually from the funeral home," he explains when Ricky asks why he looks like he was dressed by a mortician. He's crumpling and uncrumpling a notecard with some words on it, which he's erased and re-written so many times it's almost indecipherable.

He's gathered Ricky and Julian on the porch, standing so the small gathered crowd can see them. Lucy and Sarah smile those strange smiles at them, making Julian heave a self-conscious sigh. Ricky is trying to look serious-- he's put on his nice white suit, the one with only a couple of tears in it, and combed his sideburns-- but he's currently pouring some mix of liquor from his flask into his fifth beer.

Ricky leans over, whispering, "Can you believe those assholes decided to stick around?" He motions to the bankers, seated in the second row and smiling up at them. "So we have to actually do this shit."

"We have to talk ?"

"Just make something up."

"I can't make something up!" Julian frowns.

Bubbles clears his throat into the microphone J-Roc set up. He's holding an empty champagne bottle. "Well," He says, smiling shakily. "Let's uh, let's get this over with, right?" He holds up the paper, squinting at it. "We're gathered here today to celebrate the committed partnership of our friends Julian and Ricky," He looks up to smile at his friends briefly before continuing. "To celebrate their, uh, commitment to each other--"

Ricky rolls his eyes, pulls the mic over. "Julian, I vow to be gay married to you." He pushes the mic to Julian, waving at him to do the same. Julian can't help the little smile creep across his face at how unseriously Ricky is taking this whole charade. Bubbles clears his throat, whispers that Ricky has to say something more than that, which Ricky glares at. But he takes the mic back. He stares at Julian. "Okay, okay. Julian, uh, you're-- you're the best guy I know." His face softens as he says it, like its some weight off his shoulders, and he swallows thickly.  "Seriously. You always have my back, even when I-- when I screw you over." He clears his throat, looks down. His face is suddenly flushed. "Every time I do something stupid, you're there. Even when we were in grade 7 and I, I almost got arrested-- do you remember that? You came back for me when everyone else just ditched, and you helped me get out of there. We both ended up in so much trouble. You didn't have to do that but you did." He clears his throat again, takes a sip from his beer. "You always do stuff like that for me." Julian can feel Bubbles' eyes burning holes in this side of his head, but he can't look away from Ricky. "And, and not many people let me do what I wanna do, but you do. I mean, most of the time. Not if it's illegal. That illegal. Or gonna get us killed."  His face is screwed up in a strange combination between deep embarrassment and genuine happiness. Julian catches Bubbles' face light up with a smile from the corner of his eye. "And I uh, I vow to pay everything off. You know what I mean. That's-- yeah, that's my vow. There."

Julian stares at him, knowing he's smiling but unable to tamp it down. He doesn't stop himself from speaking. "I know you will. I always knew it. You're-- uh, you're skilled, at that, that sort of thing." He casts a shaky glance at the bankers, who seem none the wiser. "I-- I know things are gonna work out. And if they don't, we'll make them work out." He coughs awkwardly. Bubbles motions for him to continue. "Right. And I, uh I vow to-- to keep sticking around." He opens his mouth to say more but is cut off by the thunderous screeching of a siren pulling down the street. A cop car, kicking up dust from the dirty road, followed closely by Lahey's signature beige Chrysler New Yorker.

Lahey seems childishly giddy-- probably drunk-- as he tumbles out of his car, waving the policemen to the ceremony. Ricky groans as Lahey marches up to the porch.

"Here they are officers!" He's grinning, motioning with a hand at the three of them. Officer Green and some subordinates are following him with dull disinterest. "And if you go inside, I am sure you'll find a trailer full of dope!" He's pushing his way up the stairs, but Ricky beats him to the door and blocks it with his body.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Probable cause, Rick," Lahey answers, smug. "Ever heard of it?"

Julian rolls his eyes. "What probable cause?"

"There's no legal way Ricky could afford to buy that trailer," Lahey is holding up a finger, getting in Julian's face. He reeks of liquor. "I know that. He's got no job, shitty credit-- There's something illegal happening here and I know it!" He looks around. "And this," He motions to the whole scene. "Is a fake ceremony to cover for it!" Lahey scowls, trying and failing to get passed Ricky and into the trailer.

Green stands slack, leaning against the railing at the bottom of the stairs. "What's the emergency exactly? That Ricky owns a trailer?"

"Listen," Lahey stiffens, turns to the cops. "There's dope in there and I know it."

"It feels like we're just breaking up a wedding," Green comments. He eyes Ricky. "Aren't you guys already married?" This makes Lahey stop his futile attempts to body his way into the trailer.

"What?"

"This is a vow renewal ceremony," the banker joins the officers at the bottom of the stirs, handing them the certificate.

"Ah," He says. " That's why you guys were getting a new certificate."

"What?!" Lahey asks again.

"Hey, hey, Lahey," Ricky is grinning ear to ear. "Knock, knock!"

"You're married? Since when?" Lahey gapes at them.

"Lahey! Knock, knock!"

Lahey scowls. "Who's there?!"

Ricky deftly flips him off. "Fuck off!"

This makes Lahey spin abruptly on his heel, stumbling down the stairs to the cops. "There's dope in there-- I know there is."

Green stares at him. "Right." He deadpans. "Just like last time, and the time before that?"

"No-- wait," Lahey is almost pleading, following as the officers return to their cars.

"Maybe next time you can have some actual evidence for us?" He looks to Julian and Ricky. "Have a good time, boys," Green calls back. "Congratulations!" He pauses a moment as he steps into his car. "And don't tell Barb I was here! I don't have her money yet…"

Lahey is left watching the dust pile as they drive off, mouth agape. Julian joins him at the edge of the street, claps him on the shoulder. Lahey shoots him a glance from the corner of his eye.

"How long have you guys been married?" He asks, quietly serious.

"A few months now," Julian says. He pauses. "That's how we got the trailer."

Lahey sighs. It's a mumble, almost indecipherable, but Julian is sure he hears a congratulations slip from Lahey's lips. He sounds almost wistful, and the two stand in silence until J-Roc manages to plug his speakers in. Julian gives Lahey a nod and returns to the party.

He finds Ricky smoking a joint behind the porch. When he sees him, Ricky breaks into a wide grin. "The trailer's ours!" He says, clinking his beer to Julian's glass.

Julian can't help but smile back. "Right. And the dope, too."

"Yup," Ricky leans against the porch, still smiling.

Julian turns to eye the party. J-Roc is making a mess of the music, but people seem to enjoy it, bouncing around wildly. The liquor is almost completely gone, Corey and Trevor carefully mixing shitty cocktails under the watchful eye of Sarah and Lucy. It seems there's almost double the amount of people there were twenty minutes ago, parkgoers probably having shown up for the free drinks, but Julian can't say he minds. If anything, the chaos makes it easier for him to take Ricky by the arm and lead him off to someplace a little quieter, where they can relive their prison days in the privacy of their own trailer.