Page 98 of Advanced Chemistry

When I got to the altar, those same two pairs of eyes were on me, watching me as if I were the most fascinating thing here. Honestly, all I did was walk!

Granted, Anton and Sebastian had never met Pop, so I could see why the actual wedding might not be of great interest to them. But still, it was tradition to focus on the couple, not a squirming groomsman whose sock was bunching at the base of his shoe.

I should’ve worn better socks. Amos insisted we wear gray socks to be formal, but my dress socks branded with Einstein’s face would’ve been loads more comfortable.

During the ceremony, the smoldering looks kept coming. I motioned for Anton and Sebastian to look at, y’know, the bride and groom. Pop had to walk down the aisle with a cane, but he was full of pep. He decided to wear tails with his suit, much to the chagrin of his bride who was luminous in a conservative blazer and dress combo. The guys watched the couple exchange vows, then returned their stare to me.

While it was against wedding protocol to focus on the groomsmen, I had to admit it was a thrill to be watched. I routinely caught Anton and Sebastian glancing at me, checking me out, an amused smile on their lips despite me performing mundane tasks like putting on my socks or cleaning my microscope. What was so engrossing about the minutiae of my life was a mystery to me, but I was glad there was someone (or rather, someones) out there who found me riveting.

Hutch served as the wedding officiant, and his prepared remarks about the beauty of love were very clearly written by Amos, who mouthed along here and there. I happily glanced back at my boyfriends, admiring those two lumbering, strong bodies crammed into formalwear. I’d spent most of my life being good with being alone. Having two large men constantly in my space was an adjustment. I had to clear out drawers in my dresser for their things since they slept over so often. And I often bumped into them in the tight quarters of our apartments.

But somehow, the upended routine and new living arrangement felt more comfortable than my old life. Maybe we were all made for love. Perhaps it was no different than the instinct all chemicals and organic life forms had to bond with complementary particles.

I gave my boyfriends a stealth wink, then again signaled for them to look at the cute old couple.

“And by the power invested in me by the state of the New York and Internet Ministry dot com, I now pronounce you Pop and wife.”

The couple shared a chaste kiss to the rapturous applause. My pants began to tighten with an oncoming erection because I would pass Anton and Sebastian on the procession out, and again I would be hit with those smoldering stares.

What was it about them? Or really, what was it about me?

The logic of this arrangement would always escape me. But I just went with it. Some things would have to remain a mystery.

* * *

The reception was heldat the MacArthur Community Center where Pop worked. They took over one of the party rooms, which overlooked a woodsy patch and the parking lot if you squinted closely.

“Mr. Bright, did you want me to get you a refill?” Anton asked.

“Please, you’re dating my friend. Call me Amos.”

I introduced my friends to Anton and Sebastian, and so far, everyone got along. Although, Anton kept calling all of them by the same name he used when he was in their class. I laughed at Amos being called Mr. Bright. Knowing what I knew about my friend and the things he posted on our group chat, it was hard to think of him as a mister.

We sat around a big table with a white floral arrangement at the center. The band was taking a quick break while we ate.

“This is a really nice wedding. I’m thinking we can do something like this for ours,” Raleigh said as he tossed a piece of bread into his mouth. He clearly had no idea he set off a gossip bomb at the table.

“What…are you talking about?” Everett asked. “Who said anything about us getting married?”

“You don’t think about it? It’s a night where you get to be the center of attention and people give us gifts.” Raleigh knew his boyfriend all too well.

“Wait, yo. Is this a proposal?” Seamus asked.

Everett was the most utterly confused of all of us. “It’s not. He is not proposing because we aren’t getting married. I thought we were gonna do the Goldie Hawn/Kurt Russell thing. Or as you wanted to call it, the Gurt Hustle.” He looked to Raleigh to back him up.

“I don’t know, Ev. I think I might see a wedding, marriage, and kids in our future.” Raleigh had too much fun pushing Everett’s buttons, but it was fun to watch.

“Sweet. Mr. Calloway and Mr. Marshall, you’re getting married?” Anton asked, back with the drinks.

“Hold the phone.” Amos held up his hand to silence all of us. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing is happening,” Everett assured, the tips of his ears turning red. “Raleigh’s just being a tad dramatic. We aren’t getting married, and we definitely aren’t having kids. No way, no how.”

“I don’t know.” Raleigh shrugged, getting a kick out of making his boyfriend blush.

“Babe, you do know that you can’t accidentally get me pregnant, right? That’s not how gay sex works.” Everett gave Raleigh a polite pat on the lap.

“He has wedding fever,” Julian said.

---