Chapter Text
“Reggie, I need a favor, and, before you say no, you should know I already kind of told everyone you were coming, so it’ll be weird if you don’t, but you can totally say no if you want to.”
Reggie stares at his phone as Alex finally takes a breath and slowly pulls the spoon previously full of cool whip out of his mouth.
“Okay…” he says finally, voice muffled from the whip.
He contemplates taking a swig of his chocolate milk to clear up his throat to answer whatever Alex’s about to ask, thinks better of it, and scoops another glob of whip into his mouth. He’s already had two interventions from his friends about his impulse control, so he might as well have a mouthful of cool whip to deter him from blurting out his instinctual response before he can actually think about it.
“Okay, so.” Alex takes an audibly deep breath. The next words that come out of his mouth are airy and strained. “You know how my sister’s getting married?” he asks.
Reggie nods as he spoons another delicious glob of whip into his mouth before remembering that Alex can’t actually see him.
“Yeah, Beck, right? To high-guy Lewis?”
Alex sighs. “We’re not supposed to call him that anymore.”
Reggie shrugs and toes the fridge shut, grabbing his phone off the counter with one hand, securing his glass of milk between his arm and chest, and taking the container of whip with his other hand. He moves to the kitchen table and gently sets everything down before plopping down onto one of the three folding chairs he and Luke stole got from a venue they played at. This sounds like the beginning of a long explanation, and Reggie’s not about to waste electricity or cold air here.
“It doesn’t matter,” Alex continues. “Just… you know how, when you get a wedding invitation, there’s usually a line about being allowed to bring a plus one?”
“Kind of,” Reggie says. “I’ve heard about it, but I’ve never been to a wedding before.”
Not yet, anyway. They may not be engaged yet, but Luke and Julie are very-nearly-almost engaged. Reggie’s not a hundred percent certain, but he’s pretty sure it was a ring box he spied Luke shoving into a sweatpants pocket when he came home early the other day. (It was just a glimpse, but, whatever it was, it was palm-sized and black like a ring box). Let him tell you, Reggie nearly pointed and screamed. It took all of his self control and then some not to catapult himself over their couch and beg to see it. It took even more effort not to hint that he knows via puns, eyebrow-wiggles, and winks these past couple days. Honestly, Reggie’s kind of losing his mind over here. The urge to sneak into Luke’s and Julie’s room and rummage through Luke’s drawers is strong, but boundaries.
Reggie can respect boundaries. He just hopes Luke tells him soon, or, not to be dramatic, he’ll explode.
“Okay, so, in most cases, you’re allowed a plus one to someone’s wedding unless you’re told not to or the invitation doesn’t include it,” Alex explains. Which, a little unnecessary because Reggie has a vague understanding of how weddings work, just not the details, but he shrugs it off and continues spooning cool whip into his mouth as Alex talks.
“Beck’s invitations just came in, and I’m allowed a plus one. I mean, I’ve known I could have a plus one since they got engaged, because I, uh…” Alex clears his throat. “Me and Willie were still together, so I’d wanted to know if I could bring him.” He coughs and takes a deep breath before pushing on. “Anyway, Beck said yes, so I thought: Cool. I have to be surrounded by my family, but at least I would have…At least I’d have a buffer, you know?” Another deep breath. “I just… They’re driving me crazy, Reggie. Absolutely insane.”
“I know, bud,” Reggie says sympathetically, because he does.
Alex doesn’t like talking about his family, even if there’s trouble currently happening in paradise. Reggie gets it. He wouldn’t want to waste his breath on parents that kicked him out the day he turned eighteen because he was gay and then spent the next four years pretending he didn’t exist, either. The moment Alex told them little baby Rebecca was engaged, and that his parents reached out to him soon after he got the news, Reggie knew- he felt it in his bones- that a shitshow was coming. He and the rest of the phantom gang have been doing their best to be a safe space for Alex to unwind and not have to think about anything family or wedding related, but they can only do so much with the little free time they have in between shows, jobs, and, in Julie’s and Alex’s cases, classes.
“The wedding’s not even until September,” Alex continues, exasperated and a smidge whiny. “But Mom’s already grilling me about school, sending me Bible verses that made her ‘think of me,’” Reggie can practically see Alex finger-quoting, “and tagging me on those weird Facebook prayer-chains.”
“Wait, you still use Facebook?” Reggie interrupts, mouth, once again, full of cool whip. The only social media Reggie uses are Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, and, mostly to lurk, TikTok. He thought only old people still use Facebook. You know, to poke people and stuff.
“I mean, sometimes, yeah,” Alex admits. “Mostly to find businesses- are you eating something?”
Reggie, suddenly aware he’d been spinning the spoon with his tongue and clacking it against his teeth absent-mindedly, pulls the spoon from his mouth. He eyes the cool whip. Does spooning cool whip straight from the container count as eating? It doesn’t feel like eating. But he is technically putting something in his mouth, swallowing it, and digesting it, so…
“Kind of?”
There’s a pause.
“Reggie…” Alex trails off, sounding not unlike a disappointed, tired Dad who was just told something dumb their kid did despite them knowing better. He sighs. “Reggie, it’s one a.m.”
Reggie waits for elaboration.
“And?” he asks, once it’s apparent Alex’s not, in fact, going to elaborate. “It’s just cool whip.”
“It’s- it’s just cool whip?” Alex repeats. “Only cool whip? You’re just eating cool whip, full-stop? Nothing else?”
Reggie hesitates.
“Yeah…?”
There’s a brief moment of silence, save for a small, incoherent squeak on Alex’s end, like the blonde’s trying to say something but the words can’t make it past his lips.
Reggie takes a sip of his chocolate milk and caps the whip- not because Alex’s judging him but because he’d already eaten a decent amount before Alex called and wants to save the rest. He’s used to Alex judging Reggie’s decisions, so his judgment itself is not a deterrent. Alex judges a lot of things; the guy can’t help it. He just needs a little time to understand Reggie’s and Luke’s thought processes, and you know what? That’s okay. Just because he judges them doesn’t mean he’s judging them. Plus, he’s gotten really good at picking and choosing his battles over the years. For example:
“I… Okay?” Alex stammers out. “That’s…a choice. Anyway.” He sighs. “Back to the invitations and family driving me crazy-thing. I was planning on just going without a date, right? Because you don’t have to have a date for a wedding. But then all of the bridesmaids and groomsmen RSVP'd ‘yes’ to bringing a plus-one, and one of the bridesmaids, Hope, started talking in the group chat about how everyone in the bridal party has to bring a date or else it looks weird or something, and everyone else agreed. Then Mom started badgering me about it, and, for some reason, she took me and Willie breaking up as a reason to try setting me up with girls from her church by giving them my phone number. Then I started having other people in my family asking if I was going to bring a guy as my date or if I’m ‘done being rebellious now,’ like they still think it’s a phase or something, and they wouldn’t stop, so...”
Alex stops, takes a deep breath, then blurts:
“Itoldthemwe’redatingandthatyou’remydatetothewedding.”
Reggie pauses his sucking and clacking of the spoon. (Yes, he put the empty spoon back in his mouth to fidget with it. No, it wasn’t a conscious decision, but listen- it's fun, okay?).
“What?” he asks.
“I know,” Alex says miserably. “I-”
“No, like, what?” Reggie repeats. “I didn’t understand any of that, dude.”
Silence. Then, a groan, like Reggie’s just being the absolute most right now, which Reggie doesn’t feel is fair. It’s not his fault Alex squishes his words together when he’s anxious, and Reggie has trouble understanding what people are saying even when they’re speaking at a normal pace.
“I told everyone we’re dating and that you’re my plus one to the wedding,” Alex says, slower, and definitely more pained, than before. After a beat, he adds, “And now they’re all expecting you to show up to stuff like the couple’s shower, bachelor party, rehearsal dinner, and the, uh,” he clears his throat, “the pre-wedding, whole family vacation thing.”
Reggie stares at the phone as Alex talks. He feels not unlike that blonde woman in that one meme who’s squinting at all the equations and not getting any of it.
“There’s also a group chat, I think,” Alex continues, filling the silence like a natural. “I don’t know. Willie was in it, but it’s for partners only, so I wasn’t.”
“What?” Reggie asks, for real this time. He sputters. “You- Me? What? Why not- Why me?”
It’s no secret that Alex isn’t Reggie’s biggest fan. That’s not to say that Alex doesn’t like Reggie; Reggie knows Alex likes Reggie. Scratch that, he knows Alex loves him; it’s just a fact. The sky is blue, grass is green, and Alex loves Reggie, just like he loves Luke, Julie, Flynn, Bobby, and Carrie. At the same time, though, Reggie’s the only one Alex frequently insinuates is dumb. Which, to be fair, Reggie knows he can be a little airheaded, but it’s gotten to the point where he can’t really tell when Alex is just teasing or genuinely thinks Reggie’s an idiot. So, out of all their friends, why did Alex say he was dating Reggie?
There’s a light thunk on the other line, followed by a soft groan, like Alex’s muscles gave up and he just hit his head against his headboard or the wall.
“I don’t know,” Alex says. “It just kind of happened! One second, I was on Zoom listening to Uncle Isaac going on and on about how my breakup was a ‘blessing in disguise,’ and Mom jumping in about this girl from her church who’s ‘a good, godly girl’ and who’d make a great date for Beck’s wedding, and I just- I was sick of it. I wanted them to just shut up about it already and show them it’s not ‘just a phase,’ and… you were the first person to pop into my head.” He huffs out a small laugh. “You should’ve seen their faces. Aunt Mandy, like, gasped and turned off her camera, and Mom put her hand over her mouth and everything. I really thought that vein in Uncle Isaac’s forehead was gonna pop or something.” Another nervous laugh. “Lewis just cracked a beer, held it up to the camera, and said ‘cheers’ before going on about upcoming shower plans like nothing happened.”
Reggie cracks open the cool whip, scoops the biggest glob that’s ever globbed, and shoves it into his mouth before his tongue can outrun his brain and say something stupid, like asking if Aunt Mandy was wearing any pearls and, if so, did she clutch them like an offended old woman despite being in her fifties. Or asking if the girl Mrs. Mercer wants to set Alex up with is a church girl, who goes to church, and reads ‘er Biibleeee. (God, Reggie misses Vine). Funny? Yes. Currently appropriate? Probably not. On topic? Definitely not.
The topic on hand: Wedding. Alex said he and Reggie are dating. Not only are they dating, he’s bringing Reggie as his plus one to Beck’s wedding. Beck’s wedding is in September. It’s currently January- almost February. That’s seven months of fake-dating. Seven months. Would they only be pretending around Alex’s family? What if his family keeps up with them on social media or the news? Would they need to publicly announce they’re a couple? That’d be a shitshow. Reggie’s ninety-nine percent sure none of the fantoms ship them, minus the few that ship him with everybody for kinky purposes, including Carrie for some reason. Most fantoms are die-hard Willex shippers, which same, but that means they wouldn’t take the news of Alex’s new paramour being Reggie very well. Neither would the fans who ship Ruke/Peterpatter, now that Reggie thinks about it. He knows some of them are rooting for Luke to either break up with Julie for him or for him to realize that he “has two hands” and add Reggie to their relationship. So, announcing he and Alex are together on socials is probably a bad idea. But they’d at the very least have to post conspicuous stuff, right? A few photos of them hanging out on their Instas and some too-long glances to mean nothing during interviews and shows?
Seven months. Probably more than seven months unless they want to “break up” right after the wedding. Don’t get Reggie wrong- he gets fake-dating. He’s read enough fanfic to know that it sounds like a decent idea until it gets messy and complicated. But that’s just fiction, right? And this isn’t fiction; it’s real life. They’re not going to fall in love or ruin their friendship if they fake-date for, at minimum, eight-ish months. All Reggie would be doing is helping his bro out, and hey, at the end of the day, when they’ve both grown old, it’ll be a funny story to tell the kids. An inspirational story about what bros do for their best buds, if you will.
Hey, kids, have I ever told you about the time Uncle Alex and I fake-dated for over half a year as a big ‘fuck you’ to his folks? Yeah, it was wild.
“Reggie?” Alex asks, sounding a smidge concerned and a moderate amount anxious. “You don’t actually have to do it. I can- I can tell them we… broke up.”
Alex’s tone sounds like he very much would rather not do that.
Reggie snaps the cap back on the whipped cream and lays the spoon on top of it with the finality of a man who just made a Very Important Decision.
“Okay,” he says.
“Really?” Alex asks, stunned.
“Yeah, man,” Reggie says. “It’ll be, like, perfect practice for Luke and Julie’s wedding! What with the tuxes, parties, and dancing and stuff. Plus, I’ll get to learn groomsmen duties through you.”
Yes, Reggie told Alex about the maybe-a-ring thing. Listen, Reggie only has so much self-control at any given time, (he’s been working on it!), and he only told Alex! …And Bobby and Flynn and Carrie. But he didn’t tell Julie! Plus, it’s not like any of them will spill the beans. (Okay, so, Flynn might, but they’re all watching her like hawks). He just can’t keep something this exciting to himself, okay? Not when he’s been waiting years for this to happen, and not when he’s invested fifty bucks in a betting pool with Alex, Bobby, Carrie, and Flynn. There’s $250 on the line here, people, and, if Luke proposes on Julie’s birthday, which is in two weeks, then Reggie will be a $250 richer man.
“Besides,” he continues, “I don’t mind being your social buffer, dude. Or a way to piss off your parents.”
“It’s- I didn’t say you just to piss off my parents,” Alex sputters.
“Uh-huh.”
Alex snorts. “Shut up.”
“If we’re going to fake-date,” Reggie says, moving on, “We’re gonna need to figure some stuff out. Like, when did we realize we liked each other? Who asked who out? Where was our first kiss? What about me annoys you, but in, like, a fond way?”
“You’re thinking a lot about this for someone who was just asked randomly to fake-date,” Alex says drily.
Reggie shrugs. “I like being prepared.”
Alex hums.
“You’ve read a lot of Star Wars fanfic, haven’t you.”
It’s not a question, but Reggie answers with a hesitant, drawn out “...No” anyway. Like, Alex’s not wrong, but Reggie’s not about to admit to reading JATP fanfic for funsies and to support the creativity of their fans. He’d never hear the end of it, even though he knows for a fact that Flynn reads them, too, because they send recommendations to each other. He also knows that Julie knows some of the fics, and, in extension, Luke, because Flynn gets excited and likes to share. He wouldn’t be surprised if Bobby reads them, too, though he’d never admit it.
“Uh-huh,” Alex says, sounding incredibly smug for a guy who called Reggie at one in the morning because he gay-panicked on a family Zoom call and told both close and extended family members he’s dating one of his best friends since elementary school.
“Shut up,” Reggie says with a sniff, faking offense. “Star Wars is art, ‘Lex. You wouldn’t understand. Also, everything I said was logical, thank you very much.”
Alex sighs. “Yeah, it was,” he admits. There’s a beat of silence before Alex asks in a strained voice, “Do we have to do it now, though? I’ve been freaking out for the past six hours, and I’m exhausted.”
“Why’d you wait six hours before calling me?” Reggie asks. It’s not like he was doing anything.
“Because I was freaking out,” Alex says, like it was obvious. “I couldn’t believe I’d just done that and ran through all the consequences of it in my head.”
“That’s fair.” Reggie drains the rest of his chocolate milk. “You don’t have classes on Thursdays, right? Practice isn’t until the afternoon, so you could come over before then, and we can start our game plan.”
“Okay,” Alex agrees. “I…Thank you, Reggie.”
“It’s no problem, man,” Reggie says, meaning it. “Love you.”
Alex sighs. “Love you, too.”
Reggie presses the red hang-up button, stands up, and stretches his arms above his head until his back pops. He grabs the carton and goes to return it to the fridge.
God, does he have some things to think about before Thursday. He should probably do some research; someone out there has gotta have made a list of the best fake-dating fics uploaded somewhere. You know what? It’s only two a.m.; Reggie’s got time for some light reading.