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Ruggie likes weddings more than most people. Sure, lots of people find them awfully stuffy, terribly expensive, a huge waste of time, but not Ruggie—even if he does think a lot of them are too fancy shmancy for their own good! Like, what’s with the wedding industry being so costly? Does it seriously cost that much money to rent a venue? Why do dresses and tuxes cost an arm and a leg? Are the to-be-weds actually expected to pay for the flights of their guests if they’re coming out of town?
That aside—he’s not planning a wedding so those questions have nothing to do with him!—Ruggie adores weddings, enough to crash them and celebrate with the newlyweds!
Not that he crashes them, not at all in technical terms, has not really needed to considering you were more than willing to invite him as your plus-one for every event with catering or an all-you-can-eat buffet, all events including weddings! Birthdays and gender reveals were all fine and dandy too, but sometimes those adult party games could get embarrassing, even if they had some snazzy (and usually practical!) prize to be won.
But really, none better than a good wedding.
So sure, maybe tuxedos weren’t exactly his style—he’s worn the same one to pretty much every wedding, but guys tend to get passes on that sort of thing—but it’s really not that bad having to dress up every, what, once or twice a month… and sure, maybe he’s a bit selective with the wedding speeches he actually finds sweet, but he has the decency to clap after each and every one (and even let out a whistle or holler if the atmosphere is casual enough!)
There was also the issue that maybe some of the time that should have been spent chatting up other guests was spent discreetly putting food in the tupperware for him to take home—not like most of them would have finished the food anyway! It would be a waste if it had just gone in the trash!—but he’s the first to ask and lead you to the floor when you seem like you’re in the mood for dancing.
So okay, maybe he doesn’t like every aspect of the arrangement (it’s hard to care about it 100% when most of the attendees are strangers or acquaintances at most) but, well, you were his friend and there was bound to be good food, especially the more extravagant weddings, so attend he shall.
“What color do I have ‘ta wear? Don’t wanna be stared at like I’m the asshole for not following some dumb dress code.”
Like, why the hell would guests have to wear certain colors or prints? Wasn’t it good as long as you didn’t outshine the bride(s) or however the rule went? As if he could even wear something glamorous and bling bling enough for that to happen anyway.
“Sunrise colors, so probably red and orange and yellow… maybe blue as well?”
Excellent, Ruggie thought, absolutely excellent, considering he actually owned a yellow tie!
No need for renting, no need to borrow one from Leona (again), no need to ask Kalim, who would have probably sent him a bunch of way too expensive ties with exquisite patterns and stitching, and definitely no need to ask some other guy who would probably ask for a favor or something which, no thank you, he’ll just break the dress code and play dumb.
“I’ll go wear yellow, then,” Ruggie announced, just in case you wanted to, well, match or something. Wouldn’t be the first time (and the first time was a complete accident!) so he could probably handle the teasing… probably.
“Ah, one more thing,” he asked, suddenly remembering something—his part of the deal when it came to attending these events with you. “So our, y’know, our usual—do we have to do that there too?”
“Hmm? Do what, Ruggie?” you asked, feigning forgetfulness.
With how many different occasions he’s accompanied you to over the past year (this would be the seventeenth, and the year was still a few months away from ending), not to mention the amount totaling from all the years he’s known you, he knew that you were very well aware of what he was talking about.
“Y’know…! Pretend that me and you, you know, that we’re… Oi! Can your laughter, you’re at fault here!”
He gave in anyway, only because he still found himself embarrassed whenever it was brought up. It was easier once he was settled in, but the process was still… yeah.
Honestly, he doesn’t really have much of a (valid, not embarrassing to say) excuse for how and why the whole ordeal still flustered him even after how many years has passed since the arrangement—it just does.
Well, okay, there’s an actual reason, but best not to speak it into existence in case you find out and make fun of him for that too.
He just has to be satisfied knowing that in some ways, he gets the best of you as well.
“Sorry, sorry!” you said, appeasing him with your laughter, “No, no, there’s no need to pretend we’re dating this time! The groom is pretty chill about the invites, so it’s no big deal if I bring a friend along.”
“Cool, cool,” he replied, not really feeling any smidge of the relief you were expecting him to. He feigned a sigh anyway, just to pretend he did. “‘S not that it’s a big deal if I had to.”
“Of course not,” you agreed, “must be like a second skin at this point, huh?”
He scratched the back of his neck as he laughed.
“Ah, yeah, somethin’ like that!”
Second skin might have been the right way to describe it, though Ruggie’s beginning to realize that there are problems as well with how natural everything’s become between the two of you.
This whole fake dating business seemed like all pluses at the start—hanging out with and getting to go to snazzy events with a friend, eating good food, getting all the perks of socializing without having to make too many promises and commitments. Those were all pretty fantastic, really!
The issue is, though, that once you become someone’s fake significant other, you simply can’t stop fake dating them because of the mutual friends and acquaintances you happen to share with the other person. The degrees of separation have decreased significantly since becoming your go-to partner to these things.
“Ruggie! It’s so good to see you!” He gets scooped up into a tight hug—if his personal space is gonna get invaded, can they at least mind the tail?!—by some person he attended the wedding of some months ago. What was their name again…?
“Yeah, good to see ya too, man!” Well, he can’t say he’s all that upset about seeing a sort of familiar face or two, especially a face of a genuinely generous person, but he’s not sure he has much to say, really. Other than your mutual friends, he mostly lets you or the other people decide what to talk about and he sort of just improvs from there. If he ends up getting asked about work and life and such, he’d end up drawing a blank (too hectic and too little he’d be willing to say to an almost stranger).
“Since you’re here, it probably means you’re still dating my cousin, huh?”
The person he had been talking to before the interruption—the groom of today’s affair—was momentarily confused, before grinning at the revelation.
“Wait, seriously?”
“Yeah? Did Ruggie not tell you he’s the S.O. of…?”
Basically, people know him as your boyfriend, and he will be introduced as your boyfriend even when neither of you had the intention of pretending that day for the sake of not blowing your cover.
Like, it’s not as if he’s gonna fake break up with you or anything anytime soon, so spreading the fake news it is!
Really, ain’t he just such a good friend for keeping up the act to the best of his abilities? Not that it was all that hard or nothing, it’s kind of just like lighting a match—after a few flicks, it’s already registered in his brain that he’s supposed to be your date.
“I thought the two of you were just friends?” The groom wiggled his eyebrows in the way annoying adults tended to when they felt like teasing the children in the village about their crushes.
Except Ruggie was already a few years past drinking age so he doesn’t really feel like playing into that game, even if the guy’s your friend. He’ll just answer quickly and move on (back to you, and maybe the buffet table as well).
“Shishishi… It’s an inside joke we love to tell people,” he explains, a well-practiced excuse at this point. “Started out because people kept telling us we’d make a pretty good couple not knowing we were already dating, so we kinda just committed to the bit!”
Yeah right! The irony of it all, if that was the right category it fell into.
“So this has been going on for a while then, huh!”
“Yeah, something like four years, one month, and eight days,” of fake dating, Ruggie said nonchalantly, like it was no big deal that he’s been keeping himself single for all that time so he can continue to fake date you. He’s just never felt the compulsion to stop, and clearly you haven’t either considering you’ve been single all that time as well!
“You can’t just say something like then get the exact numbers down to a T, puppy.”
Likely wondering what was taking him so long to return to your side, you decided to finally grace him with your presence, wrapping an arm around his waist. He pretends it happens frequently enough to the point that he’s not flustered about it.
“Means ya have it memorized too, kitty,” he replies, deflecting. “Not that big a deal. Also, hyenas aren’t even part of the dog family, y’know!”
“Okay okay, whatever you say!” you laugh, nudging the groom with your free arm. “Sorry I lied to you about him being my boy space friend and not my boyfriend. I saw an opportunity to lie and I took it!”
“You know what? I’m not even surprised,” the man says, shaking his head before turning to the hyena once more. “So, Ruggie, since the two of you have been together for several years now, do the two of you plan on getting married any time soon, too?”
Questions like that are meant to be heavy hitting, meant to be discussed for more than just a few minutes, but Ruggie manages to answer it swiftly.
Again, not the first time he’s been asked, but his answer has never really changed from all those years ago.
“Only if my partner wants to,” he replies. He grabs the hand you have wrapped around him, pushing it down so he can clasp onto your fingers properly, like a dutiful boyfriend would. “I’d be happy as long as we have a future together.”
Considerate. That was how Ruggie was known to… pretty much everyone you had introduced him to that didn’t know the truth. He was a considerate boyfriend, one who never spoiled or babied you too much, but one always eager to help or guide you with whatever it was you needed.
You saw him as considerate too, you let him know, a considerate friend. It was why you approached him with this whole fake dating shenanigans in the first place, and why you continued to rely on him over and over again.
“I just don’t know what I’d do with you, really,” you bemoaned, “you’re seriously the best, you know that?”
“Shishishi… if you wanted me to comfort you, you could just ask,” Ruggie replied with a grin, more receptive to the compliment than he wanted to let on. “Whether you want to cry at their speeches and use my tie as a tissue, or ask me to refill your plate with something in particular, I’ll do it.”
You smiled, your appreciation extending from your lips to the tips of your fingers, reaching out to comb through his hair gently.
“Your tie’s too nice for that,” you admitted, your fingers trailing down to his neck to caress the fabric. He might have misheard, but he thought he heard someone murmur about public display of affection… as if a wedding didn’t scream P.D.A. already. Regardless, he lowers his eyes to watch the movement of your hands, only a little bit mesmerized by how gently you treat him at times like these. He’s used to you not being afraid to fool around with him, which is nice, but… but this is nice, too.
Yikes, you’d think you were cupping his face or something by the way he reacted—it was just his tie, for sevens’ sake!
“I’ve always liked how you looked in yellow,” you said, and he could do nothing but melt. That’s all he can do, considering if he tried to speak he would probably whimper and purr and let you have your way with his heart… But you look like you want him to say something, so he should try to do that. It can’t be that bad! He just has to clear his throat and make sure he actually vomits out words instead of feelings.
You can praise me more! was what he wanted to say. Instead, he said,
“Ahh, ya look very charming too in…!” It’s a good enough start, but he trailed off when he realized he couldn’t really pinpoint just one thing he liked. What, was he gonna say you looked good in yellow too? You said it first! He’d just be repeating at that point! “Agh, you’re just cute…! You don’t have to laugh at me for that!”
“I’m not making fun of you!” you explained quickly—not that you needed to, he knew you weren’t, and the clarification didn’t make his cheeks cool in the least bit. It’s like the heat of his hometown all over again! “You’re acting like you wouldn’t tease me for the very same thing!”
“Who, me? Your Ruggie? Never!” he said, lying as easily as he breathed. “So go on, might as well ask me for a few more things while I’m in the mood to be all sweet with ya~”
“Well… what if I want to ask you to dance?”
He laughed, as he tended to in many situations, but he laughed then because he knew his leading you to the dance floor would be inevitable—it was just a matter of time. When you laugh with him, he knows it’s because you knew the very same.
“You know my rhythm ain’t that good, especially when the music is…” He paused to listen to the music, having been too invested in you to pay attention to the tunes. “…classical? Like, piano and violin instrumental and all.”
“Then I’ll let you step on my feet—once!”
“You’re only sayin’ that because ya know I won’t,” Ruggie said, grinning, “well, not on purpose anyway! Shishishi…”
They’ve danced this dance before… not literally, or maybe literally, many wedding playlists and bands repeat the same songs anyway, but the whole let’s dance and pretend we’re an engaging and fun couple kind of dance specifically. He’s not really sure why they continue doing so, most people only really care about who the newlyweds dance with, but once they’ve started they never really had it in them to stop.
At least, that was how he felt about it.
“‘Times it feels like the first time,” Ruggie said, hands gesturing vaguely in the air before they take their place next to yours. You interlock your fingers with his in response. “This whole thing. The date and dance thing.”
“Awkward?”
“S’ not the right word,” he replied, “I always feel comfy around you.”
“Exciting?”
“Fun,” he supplied, “somehow this has never gotten boring even after four years–”
“–and one month, and eight days,” you were already smiling the whole time (he would know—when he wasn’t staring at his feet to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally hurt you, he’s been staring at your face shamelessly), but your eyes crinkle a little bit more. He thinks you might’ve stolen his abilities because he mirrors your very movements. “Or is that nine days counting today?”
“Nah, I already counted today as the eight.”
The look you have on your face resembled approval, as if you were praising him for remembering so well.
“We’ve never celebrated an anniversary, have we?” you whispered, as though too embarrassed to let anyone else hear. Ruggie doubted anyone would, too preoccupied with themselves and everyone else to pay attention to a couple of guests dancing, but he leans into you anyway to hear you better.
(He doesn’t need it, he can hear you fine and dandy with the ears he has, but neither of you comment on the action.)
“Is there somewhere you wanna go? Or do?” he asked, genuinely interested in what your idea of an ideal celebratory date would be. For future reference.
“Your hometown would be nice.” The answer very nearly has him yelping, but he managed to restrain himself by squeezing your hands a little tighter. His eyes look around wildly before gawking at you. You know what his hometown is like, but more than that, you know what that place means to him, the people there that he looks out for whenever he can.
“You’re sounding very much like a real partner right now,” Ruggie said, awed at the unspoken revelation, “makes me wonder why we put that fake label in the first place if we were just gonna reserve ourselves for each other.”
“Because we’re fools,” you replied, glad to be on the same page as him, “and we’ve just been acting as the other does all this time without stepping out of line.”
“Was there even a line in the first place?” The both of you shared a laugh.
“So, what do you think? About that hometown date?”
You probably know exactly what he thinks about it. You’ve always had a way with his heartstrings and he’s done nothing to stop you from doing so, so you know his entire being feels very warm and bubbly just about now, has been the entire time he’s had you by his side, really.
“Help me sneak some sweets out later,” Ruggie murmured quietly, “in the tupperware. The brats back home will love it.”
“One step ahead of you,” you muttered back, a voice with barely contained mischief, “while you were busy chatting up the groom, I already snuck some food out to the car.”
“What the hell,” he breathed out, “I think I might have fallen in love with ya all over again.”