Work Text:
“I am telling you, We are getting you a new coat” Marc declared from other side of the dressing room door.
“I’m fine with the one I got” Nathaniel complained to his long time boyfriend.
“Quit being stubborn, you were shivering on the way in here.” Marc said half-jokingly.
“My coat is just fine” I say as I stare at the faded red puffer jacket lying on the chair in that dressing room. After so many years I can see the jacket is quite lumpy with the material clumping at the bottom. The once vibrant red was now an off pink that almost looked like a failed tie-dye experiment and after five years I still can’t get the odor from the days it switched from freezing to summer in the same day. Not to mention I’ve has this coat for years.
It was also the first piece of clothing Marc got me. It was my birthday and he told me that whenever he wasn’t there, this jacket would be an extension of himself giving me the warm hug I need. Or something like that. It’s been over a decade since. Marc had always been the one with a way with words. If he wasn’t busy with comics I would like to think he would be an excellent poet. Then again do we need a another one.
It has been years since the days of school boy crushes. after every stumble, break up and everything in between, we still ended up back in the same place we started before. Well maybe not the same place, just us. The writer and the artist.
I notice behind me swinging above the stall was a new coat for me to try. A double breasted pea coat. Functional and fashionable. Not going to lie, a far cry from Marc giving the thickest puffer he found as a young man.
I put it over my shoulders and feel the drape across my shoulders. I loo inti the mirror and see a man I don’t quite recognize. I rub my little bit of facial hair, and stare at the man who certainly more inches taller than the boy who wore an oversized puffer. I look distinguished, I think. A nice distinguished coat.
I stuff my fingers into my front pockets and feel my left hand stub something. Nothing sharp, but a small black box. I quickly open it without thinking and-
“so, what do you think?”
“It fits.”
“and…”
The young man walks out with “…like a glove.”
He sees his future husband frivolously searching his pockets, while on his hands and knees and through the clothes he had set aside and surveying the floor. He completely missed the part of seeing his partner accept the proposal.
“Found it” I shout, showing the back of my hand.
Marc turns around and with bright wide eyes stands himself straight back up to see the ring I’m proudly displaying on my finger.
“Yes?”
“Yes!” I jump towards my fiancé to provide a warm embrace. Luckily the pile of coats that now lie on the floor cushioned our tumble as I pressed my lips against my muse. As we pull apart, my giggling fiancé looks to me and says
“It looks like now we have to shop for new suits.”