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The last place Jeremy would have expected himself to end up would be on the sunny beaches of Florida but here he was, laid out on a folding chair on a private stretch of beach, wearing obnoxiously bright green and blue swim trunks.
He hadn’t picked them, of course, he’d foolishly given Rick the task of acquiring swimsuits for them. Although, considering the various neon speedos Rick had chosen for himself, he’d gotten off light.
Rick’s chosen attire certainly did keep their stretch of the beach private. Acutely, Jeremy could remember a busybody mother with a let-me-see-your-manager haircut trying to lead her five grubby, drooling children and beleaguered husband onto their stretch of sand.
While the woman had been more than happy to be snippy and entitled at Jeremy, she’d squawked and dragged her brats away with newfound vigor at the sight of the barely clothed, obnoxiously flamboyant Rick. He’d just cackled at the woman’s umbrage at his appearance as he threw himself over Jeremy’s shoulders with a smug grin, “Sure got rid of that hag, didn’t I?”
They didn’t get much in the way of visitors which was rather to both of their liking.
To his surprise, Jeremy’s managed to land another job fairly easily. In charge of a chain of retirement homes, slightly more humane than the human rights violations of Mount Massive. Not entirely sure how he’d landed it considering he was certain Murkoff didn’t exactly give him a shining review after this abrupt departure.
Perhaps it helped that Jeremy had held jobs before Murkoff to refer to. He was a relatively new hire to Murkoff, all of his corporate ladder climbing having happened before being hired on.
Rick, on the other hand, had pretty much never held a job outside Murkoff and absolutely nothing was turning up, job-wise.
Considering how much money Jeremy was making, it’s not an issue financially to support him. In turn, Rick seemed more than happy to play the part of both “trophy husband” and “househusband”.
Granted, there was one part he wasn’t happy with. Relocation with Jeremy had come with a promise to drop the drugs which had been a considerable struggle for Rick but as long as Jeremy was holding up his end of the bargain… he’d play nice. But he wouldn’t pretend the temptation wasn’t still there.
Helped that he had no connections down here but didn’t help that he seemed to have started falling to his many other vices.
But, as far as Jeremy was concerned, the happily, drunken, practically naked man stumbling around just behind the glass door to their home was infinitely preferable. Just visible, if Jeremy looked over his shoulder.
He could smell whatever Rick was cooking already. Part of that whole househusband schtick he’d happily settled into and frankly was pretty damn good at. Fairly certain that Rick said earlier he was making meatloaf or something. Whatever it was, Jeremy was sure he’d be fine with it. Wasn’t a picky eater.
It was surreal to Jeremy how this had turn out. How close they skirted disaster when they left Mount Massive. Not only rejected Murkoff’s deal but their entire business, abruptly, overnight. Disappearing to the other side of the country.
Still Jeremy didn’t know the name of that black haired man from Murkoff, who’d approached him with the offer.
But he’d shown up again. After they’d left. On their doorstep down here in Florida, claiming it was a “wellness check up”. Jeremy wasn’t dumb, the man was only there to make sure they weren’t going to the press with all of this.
However, Jeremy wasn’t out to reveal Murkoff’s secrets, probably impossible for him to care that much about other people. Told the man that. Whether it was his word or Murkoff prying elsewhere, they had backed off. Jeremy suspected it was from Murkoff spying on them as neither he nor Rick were known as good, honest men.
Rick never knew about the man coming down here. Jeremy’s one lie since they’d left, letting Rick live in ignorance of that danger having chased after them. He’d been freaked out enough when Jeremy’d told him they had to leave in the first place and why. No reason to let him be scared further.
Despite that initial fear of being told, Rick’d clearly realized after they’d left that Jeremy had chosen him over his own goals. Once and for all.
Now Jeremy heard the patio door slide open , staggered, uneven steps approaching him being the only warning he had.
In each of Rick’s hands sloshed a margarita, dangerously close to splattering all over their nice clean patio. Rick’d really gotten into those, presumably due to what he believed to be ‘trendy for the area’ or something. Considering how happy Rick was to see him, Jeremy assumed one of them was for him.
Correctly, it seemed, as Rick collapsed onto his lap and drug an almighty creak out of the protesting patio chair. Rick didn’t seem too concerned about Jeremy’s discomfort as he handed him one of the miraculously untipped drinks, “One for me, one for you.”
“Christ, Rick, you’re gonna break the fuckin’ chair.”
“You calling me fat?” Rick teased, patting his exposed and very scrawny chest. Batting his eyes behind pink circle glasses.
Transition lenses, Rick said, were why he’d started actually wearing his glasses all the time. But Jeremy had a feeling that the man’s eyesight was worsening.
“I’m calling you a grown man who just climbed onto a chair with another grown man and the damn thing has a weight limit.”
“It’s too late for all that, Jer, already sat. Let’s just enjoy the now, shall we?” Rick laughed, leaning over to plant a toothy kiss on Jeremy’s cheek. Nuzzling up against Jeremy and making himself more comfortable, Rick made it evident that he didn’t care, “We’ll buy a new one, they’re not that much. A nicer one. One that we can sit on together like this.”
Despite Rick’s boney ass digging into his thigh, Jeremy had to admit this moment was basically perfect. Rick curled up on him like an overgrown housecat, drink in hand, dinner cooking behind them, beachchair right at the edge of the sand, pointed out at the sun setting on the ocean. Sun glinting off the golden ring on Rick’s finger and the matching silver one on Jeremy’s.
Rick’d taken the initiative on that himself, only a few weeks after they’d moved.
At that point, it would have been stupid for Jeremy to say no.
Jeremy was still surprised he’d managed to wrangle Rick into a private ceremony for two. Although, he supposed, it helped that neither of them really had any friends or family they’d care to be there.
Rick’d still cried, nearly knocking out Jeremy’s front teeth with the “I do!” kiss.
A rare genuine smile graced Jeremy’s face, immediately followed by a strangulation-tight hug and a sharp kiss pressing into his cheek. Rick burying himself into the side of Jeremy’s head, “Well, somebody’s happy to see me and not even in the gonna-get-something-out-of-me way.”
“Gave up a lot for you, shouldn’t be too much of a surprise that sometimes I’m happy to be around you,” Jeremy smirked, ignoring the claw raking through his hair.
“Still kinda shocked you did that for me,” Rick pulled one of the short pieces of hair straight, “Hell, almost could have seen you selling me off just so you’d get to keep your precious reputation.”
“Yeah, I’m… well, never thought I’d care more about someone else more than myself but here we are,” Jeremy jostled an elated Rick a bit.
“I love you, Jer.”
“I love you too, Rick.”
The oven beeping inside paused their romantic moment, Rick nearly crushing Jeremy as he managed to flip over and out of the chair, “Shit, food’s ready. Nice candlelit dinner. Real romantic and shit.”
“What’d you make?”
“I’m not telling’ you, if there’s no surprises in a romance, it’ll fizzle out,” Rick laughed, “But I’ll tell you about the dessert, at least.
“Being?” Jeremy asked, pushing himself up as well.
Looking over his shoulder, Rick only grinned, “Me. I’m the dessert, obviously.”
Shaking his head, Jeremy finished off his drink and followed his husband inside.