Take Your Tears, Put 'Em On Ice

~ E-P-I-L-O-G-U-E ~ {II}

~ Friday; 27th of December 2024 ~

~ P-A-T-R-I-C-K ~

"You ready?"

I almost shook my head. I was terrified. Anyone could see that. But this is what I truly wanted, and I knew it deep in my heart. I knew this day was coming. It had been for a while. Some said we were too young. Some were disgusted with our choice. But I guess what really mattered with the ones who supported us.

"Yeah," my voice was a breathy whisper. Blood raced through my veins. I could hear it roaring in my ears, pulsing against my skin.

Aaron gave me a warm smile, his own blue eyes warm and shining, and we both looked forward. There were twenty-two people out there on the ice, and hundreds more in the bleachers, all staring at Aaron and I. I could feel the panic rising, but it didn't matter. All that I needed to focus on was the man by my side, and the one waiting for me down the aisle of our families and friends.

My eyes locked onto that man's hot whiskey orbs that I loved so much. The rest of the world trickled away as I trained my senses forward. My breathing seemed to steady and my blood got quiet. We hadn't gone formal, but Father Elton John had worn a white suit anyways. Pete wore new black skinny jeans, and his jersey over top. He had groomed his hair and grown out his stubble just for this day. Whoever was closer to us that had made the team also wore their Chicago Blackhawks jerseys, only showing their team pride; Pete, Brendon and Ryan, Josh, Tyler, Gerard, Frank, Jack and Alex, even Joe and Andy. Everyone else had shown up in jeans and sweaters, just like we had planned. Me? I had on skinny jeans, my white figure skates cleaned to new, with a white t-shirt and Brendon's old black cardigan that Pete loved. I had my glasses across my nose, and the fedora from our first date on top of my head. All simple, but all meaningful.

Aaron let go of my arm as we came to the end of the line. He got into place behind me, and next to Halsey. I stood across from Pete and in front of Father John, my hands trembling.  Well, they were until those callused tan ones reached out and intertwined our fingers. I looked up with a small smile, mouthing "I love you".

"Olive juice? Why the fuck do you want olive juice?" Brendon interrupted the silence. Everyone burst into laughter, my face warming with blush. I wouldn't have had the opportunity to stand here if it weren't for that goofy man.

"Ladies, gentlemen, homos and heteros," Father John raised his arms and spoke into his ear piece. Several of us had a similar, being myself, Pete, Brendon, and Aaron.

Before we continue, this was not the anticipated plan. At first, it was just going to be the closest of our friends in the small Glenbrook ice rink where we first met. But somewhere along the way, the coach of the Blackhawks set up this in the stadium. He had grown fond of Pete and his little clique, and it didn't make anything all that different as the coach was Armstrong's fiance; Tré Cool. Things built up from there and then voilà, a wedding in the hours before one of the biggest games of the year.

"Today we are gathered under the roof of the great Chicago Stadium, for two blessed reasons. The first, is what most of you are here for," Father John turned around, showing that he was talking to everyone. "And that is the Blackhawk and Predator ice hockey game!" He threw his arms into the air, the crowd applauding and cheering. After they quieted down, he continued. "But this second reason, is one of the biggest moments of some of our lives," he turned back to Pete and I, becoming that father figure he always was. "This reason, will take just an hour of your time tonight, for the uniting of two very important people. Blackhawks' team captain, Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Third, and the Beijing Olympic bronze medalist figure skater, Patrick Martin Vaughn Stump."

There was more cheering, only causing my face to grow warmer. I bit my lip and looked down at our feet, memories of the familiar action popping through my head. Pete squeezed my hands and I looked back up, feeling more sure than ever.

"Now. I've never done a wedding like this before, you see. Only those old fashioned traditional ones," a few laughs ran around thr stadium. "Not to mention, out of my home country. But I do know that I can talk on for hours and we'd get absolutely no where! I don't wanna do that, now. So, let's begin. Brendon, Aaron."

The two stepped (skated?) forward. Brendon held up the ring with a wide smile. "The best man's speech is typically held over a glass of champagne, but nobody got time for that!" Brendon gave a small head bob. "This man, Pete as y'all call him, is my best friend. Now, I'm not going to get all feelsy here, that's for you two," he threw me a wink. "But standing here today, watching my right hand man getting married to some kid that literally ran into him... Not one word can describe what I am feeling." He shoved the silver band into Pete's hands, backing off and pulling Ryan into his arms.

"Ah geez, guess it's my turn?" I looked over at Aaron, slowly shaking my head. "This 'some kid'," he glanced at Brendon. "Is my brother. Eight years old and we met by some old swingset in the central park of our hometown. We've never split sides since. And seeing him here, and his wedding band in my own fingers, standing in front of some American who caused him literal nose bleeds," he was smiling as if trying not to laugh. "English just doesn't exist anymore. Brendon I'm right there with you, mate!" He gently placed a similar silver band into my own hands before backing back into place.

"Are we going with traditional or our own vows?" Father John raised his arms again. Pete and I had originally agreed on traditional vows, but it seemed like he had other intentions.

"Patrick," he reached forward and took my hand back in his own. "I... I..." he laughed nervously. "I never really was sure about ny sexuality. 'Oh hey, you got boobs? Nice.' 'Ah, you got a dick? That's chill.'" He shook his head, laughing some more. "And then one day I walk into the ice rink like any other day, and you're dancing with Ryan- which was really cool, but you look at me and fall face first onto the ice, and my first thought was 'yup, he's the one'." Laughter echoed through the stadium. I was blushing profusely, but grinning like a fool.

"I have a crooked nose now, thanks to you," I snapped playfully, remembering the incident as if it were just last week.

"A cute one, mind that," he tilted his head. "But I'm not here to talk about your adorable flaws. I'm here to say that, it was our first date. And you, you spun for me. That... it was then that I realized that this very day would exist. That I realized, I loved you."

I wasn't grinning anymore. Tears were slowly making their way down my cheeks. He held up my left hand with his own, holding the silver band to my ring finger with his right hand.

"Do you love me?" His voice had grown soft. It was like the entire stadium was holding it's breath. But I knew my answer.

"I do."

He slid the band down my finger. I could feel him trying not to let his hands shake. I gave him a warm smile before taking his hands in a similar hold.

"P-Pete," I shook my head at my stutter. "I wasn't expecting for us to take this route, but I'm not going to argue. I'm not sure when it was that you took my heart. But you took it, and you flew. Oh man, did you go. And I was scared. I was oh so scared that you would take it, and never come back," I was crying some more, and I could hear others' sniffles. "But you came back. You always did. Do- do you...." I took a small breath. "Do you remember when we drove through the night, and we danced?"

Nobody knew of those nights. Those nights were the ones we held dearest away from the evil of the world. Those nights that were our pure love.

"I-I do," he whispered, blinking and causing tears to drop from his eyelids. I slid the ring down onto his finger, letting a sob shake my body as I smiled.

"I now present to you, mister and mister Peter Wentz!" Father John threw his arms upwards and everyone erupted into cheer.

Pete smiled at me, only to grab me by the waist and pull me close, locking our lips together. I wound my arms around his neck, feeling our salty tears mix together between our lips, his stubble tickling my face, our feet bumping on the ice.

But I didn't care.

All that mattered was the then and now of Pete.

"I love you."

"Take your tears, and put them on ice."