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Mark looked at the tastefully arranged sprays of flowers and tried desperately to ignore his internal clock. The one that was reminding him that he only had three minutes to tell Peter the truth. 53 minutes until the priest asked if anyone had any objections. 54 minutes until he lost his chance forever.
54 minutes could be a huge amount of time, but compared to the months he'd already had, Mark knew that it was already too late. Three nights ago when he hired male pros for the stag party it was already too late, though he had entertained a small hope that they would somehow trigger Peter's latent homosexuality.
Even so, he knew it was too late. He knew it two months ago when he arranged for the surprise performance in the church. Because as much as Mark wanted Peter or Juliet for himself, he wanted them to be happy even more.
He hadn't had a problem chasing away any of Peter's old girlfriends with a smile, but Juliet was different. Juliet he thought he might love as much as he loved Peter.
It wasn't exactly the same, of course; he and Peter had been friends since they were children, which was why Peter put up with the way he acted around Juliet, but still. Something about her made him want her to be happy, even if it meant giving up Peter, and he couldn't bring himself to smugly chase her away.
2 minutes. 52 minutes. 53 minutes.
6 minutes too late.
As they took their first steps together, Mark tried to hide his sadness. He had blown his chance for happiness, but he didn't want to ruin Peter and Juliet's wedding. He signaled for the band to begin, and felt his heart swell with pleasure as they both laughed. This was how he wanted them to remember him on their wedding day; not as the person who objected.
He had asked Mia for advice, and of course she told him to go for it, but Mark knew that whichever way he leaned, he was going to hurt at least one of the two people he cared about the most.
Mia would have no problems standing up at the wedding and objecting. Of course, Mia would have said something long before it even got to the state of being engaged, let alone the wedding. Mark just couldn't bring himself to do that.
2 weeks too late.
"I thought I might be able to swap it for some pie. Or maybe munchies?"
Mark briefly wondered if Peter had told her how much he liked Munchies. But that thought was quickly erased by the inevitable dread of discovery. As she looked along his movie shelves, a thousand scenarios flashed in his mind, but he couldn't do any of them. He couldn't stop her from finding the tape.
He had failed. He had been careless, and now it was all ruined. Maybe he had even ruined everything for Peter and Juliet in the process. He made some excuse and rushed out, unable to face her after seeing the film. He walked for almost two hours before finding himself at Jamie's. Belatedly he realized that Jamie was gone, and that he was probably in worse shape than Mark himself when it came to relationship advice.
After staring at the dark windows for a long minute, he kept walking.
Five weeks too late.
Mark had no idea what he would do if Peter answered the door. Probably show him the same cards, actually, but he desperately hoped that it would be Juliet. It was much easier to admit that he loved her than to admit that he loved his best friend, or worse, both of them.
Before his thoughts could spiral too deeply, Juliet opened the door, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he held his fingers to his lips.
Seven weeks too late.
Mark hadn't seen or talked to anyone since Christmas Eve. He went into the gallery as usual, but he let every call roll to voicemail. In a surprising bit of luck, Juliet didn't seem inclined to hunt him down in person.
About a week after Boxing Day, Mia left an annoyed message saying that she'd been fired, and Mark couldn't help but wonder if that was what she got for speaking up. It was too late to stop him from doing the same, though at least he had chosen a more private setting; he had been a little shocked to see how aggressively she was pursuing her boss at the office party.
After the second week, Mark began to get a little anxious - Peter usually called him to hang out every other week, and with the holiday rush, followed by his own seclusion, it had been three. Hundreds of scenarios raced through his mind, but Mark was too nervous to call Peter himself.
When Mark arrived home from the gallery that night, he was too distracted to notice that the lights were on. He unlocked his door without thinking about it, only noticing when he reached for the switch that it had already been flipped.
Looking up in shock, he found Peter and Juliet sitting on his couch, watching him with unreadable expressions.
Unfortunately, he said the first thing that popped into his head. "Is this an intervention?"
Juliet frowned, and Peter snorted. "If you want to look at it that way you can," he replied noncommittally. Peter was very good at sounding noncommittal.
Mark closed the door and made a bit of fuss taking off his coat and putting his keys down, but he knew that he wasn't fooling either of them. "I don't think that what I want is really relevant," he finally said.
Peter frowned. "Not relevant? Is that really what you think? Is that why you never told me?"
As Mark had suspected from the moment he discovered them on his couch, Juliet had told Peter about his midnight caroling. It was the risk he knew he was taking, but after her brief kiss, he had believed that perhaps she would keep his secret. Clearly she hadn't.
He decided to go with the simplest explanation. "You loved her."
"I don't mean the way you feel about her," Peter replied softly.
Mark froze, much as he had when Juliet appeared on his doorstep a few weeks ago. Peter couldn't know what he was implying.
"When did you know?" Juliet asked. Mark dared to glance at her and he saw the truth in her expression.
He wanted to run away again, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he couldn't run forever. Finally choosing to take Mia's advice, Mark told the complete truth for the first time. "When we were fifteen."
There was a long pause, and then Peter murmured. "Why didn't you say anything?"
Mark ducked his head and shrugged.
"Your brother?" Peter asked, sounding as though he already knew the answer. Mark hadn't spoken to his brother since he was thirteen and his parents had thrown their eldest son out on the streets for admitting that he was gay.
Keeping his head down, Mark shrugged again.
"And that's why you chased away all of my old girlfriends." It was statement, not question, and Mark didn't respond: didn't need to.
"But not me." Another statement, this one from Juliet, and Mark continued to inspect his shoes.
"You like me, too? That wasn't just a cover?" He could hear the hurt in her voice and Mark knew that he had to respond in some way. Still looking anywhere but at the two loves of his life, he nodded briefly.
"Well, that certainly complicates things," Peter said.
"Or simplifies them," Juliet replied.
Neither of them sounded angry, and Mark risked a quick glance in their direction. They were looking at each other, and smiling, as though they were sharing a secret that he didn't know.
Peter looked away and caught Mark's eye. "We've talked about it, and we agree."
"We're willing to try." Juliet added, also turning to stare at Mark.
Mark knew that they couldn't possibly mean what he thought they meant. That was something that only happened in the rarest of his dreams.
Still smiling, Peter stood up and crossed the room until he was standing only inches away from Mark. Hardly daring to breathe, Mark stared at him. Slowly, gently, Peter leaned in and kissed him.
It took a few seconds for the shock to fade, but Mark finally kissed his best friend back. He felt slim arms wrap around him from behind, and Mark desperately hoped that this wasn't another dream.
One week later.
"Oh, Mark, hi! I didn't see you there."
"Yeah. Just thought I'd tag along."
Yes, at the moment he was still Peter and Juliet's tag along, but slowly that was changing, and Mark couldn't be happier.