"Hydrangeas or Gladiolus?"

His words went by unnoticed, flying through one ear and out the other, and Brock huffed, crossing his arms and holding up the flowers again, clearing his throat before speaking.

"Evan?"

No answer.

"Evannnn?"

Not even a nod.

"Evan!"

The raven-haired male flinched, tearing his gaze from the woman speaking to his parents, his eyes landing on his fiancé, smiling sheepishly, a sliver of worry present in his features.

"Sorry, I got distracted. What did you say?"

Brock rolled his eyes but smiled, holding up the two flowers and showing them to Evan.

"Which ones do you like more?"

Evan examined the two plants, his eyes instantly taking a liking to the welcoming flowers in Brock's left hand.

"I kinda like the purple ones."

Brock nodded approvingly, smiling as he set the hydrangeas down, holding the other ones up and examining them carefully.

"Gladiolus it is, then."

He held the flowers carefully, looking them over once more before Evan's moving caught his attention.

Brock noticed the shifting of Evan's feet and how he bit his lip, the distracted thoughts and nervous cracking of his knuckles, and he instantly knew that something was on the Canadian's often cluttered mind.

He had known his fiancé for enough time to realize his little habits, and not surprisingly, Brock could pick up on them right away.

He set the purple plant down with a sigh, hands on his hips and a concerned look on his face, the worst case scenarios running through his head.

Was he getting cold feet? Did he suddenly regret proposing? Did he realize his love was fake?

Brock shook his head, ridding himself of the worrying thoughts, they were ridiculous after all, and swallowed, looking up slightly to his fiancé and speaking, voice masking his worry.

"Alright, what's up?"

Evan swallowed the lump in his throat, his own veil of fake content covering his features, and Brock almost laughed at the poor attempt to throw him off.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm excited, Brock."

The shorter male raised a brow, hands reaching down to grip his lover's own, fingers running against soft knuckles lazily, eyes boring into Evan's, prodding him to tell the truth.

"Evan," he started, squeezing the Canadian's hands reassuringly, soft touches shoving warmth into Evan's somewhat cold hands, "I know you. Something's wrong. So, what's up?"

Evan sighed, deflating a bit and leaning into Brock's touch as the shorter ran his hands up and down his arms effortlessly, trying to bring Evan some type of solace.

The Asian took a deep breath, staring around at the plethora of chairs and chit chat going on for his fast approaching wedding, biting his lip as he stared at where the altar would be, empty at the moment, inhabited only by his parents and soon to be parents in law as they talked more.

He looked into Brock's soft brown eyes, taking in the amount of happiness and purity that radiated off of his form, and he couldn't help but smile at the man he had fallen in love with.

Another reassuring squeeze of his hands and Evan was speaking, voicing his concerns to the man before him.

"I'm....I'm kind of scared, Brock."

Brock's whole attitude softened, more than it usually did, and he smiled sadly at Evan, pulling the taller into a hug and holding him there, holding back a chuckle as the parents in the distance smiled at the display of reassuring affection going on before them.

Brock couldn't help but smile into Evan's shoulder when he felt the man lean into his touch, hands grasping at his shirt to keep him in place.

It was a little known fact that Evan was a bit fragile, a bit needy one might even say. He thrived on love and praise, he lived off of his friend's being next to him and the constant support flung his way. He needed people to remind him he was useful, essential to their lives.

That being said, Brock didn't need long to understand what this meant. He was scared.

Scared of Brock walking away, leaving him in shambles, never to be loved again.

He didn't tell anyone, but Evan was actually a rather insecure person. All those things he needed contributed to that.

And Brock had learned to realize that at the start of their relationship. Really, he should've known sooner that a wedding would do this to him.

After all, there was a 50 percent divorce rate, and that was enough to push anyone to worry and fear.

Brock pulled away from the embrace, but didn't fail to notice the way Evan gripped his shirt, as if he would do more than just push away.

He let his hands rest at Evan's hips, lazily drawing random patterns on his clothed body, his eyes conveying the reassurance and warmth he had hoped they would.

"You don't need to be scared, Evan. I'm not going anywhere."

Evan bit his lip and looked off into the distance, his words the tiniest bit shaky, but Brock could hear him just fine as he brought up exactly what Brock knew he would.

"I just...I don't want us to end up like that 50 percent."

A quick kiss to Evan's neck left him shivering lightly.

"We won't. We'll end up like the other 50 percent, in a retirement home holding hands and challenging each other to another game of chess."

He felt more than heard Evan laugh at this, and couldn't help the way he teared up a little at the thought of being together until they were both old and forgotten by the YouTube world.

In all honesty, the thought of marriage terrified Brock, but somehow, the prospect of marrying Evan took that fear away, and replaced it with excitement that coursed through his veins every time Evan so much as walked in the room.

He was perfectly okay with spending the rest of his life with the black haired male. He was more than okay, actually.

And he knew Evan felt the same.

"Brock?"

It was his turn to apologize for the distracting thoughts.

Evan laughed it off, taking Brock's hands in his own and exhaling slowly, the smile tugging at his lips infectious.

"I asked if you promised we'd end up okay."

Without hesitation, the brown eyed male nodded, his hands warm and tingling with Evan's touch.

"Of course. I promise we'll end up just fine, Evan."

The verbal agreement seemed to not be enough for the owl lover, so for extra measures, Evan leaned down to plant a soft kiss on Brock's lips, content with the way his fiancé responded, the taste of peppermint mingling in with a bitter coffee that somehow tasted better when it came from Evan's tongue.

Brock pulled away from the kiss with a smile, promptly dragging Evan to their parents, getting in on the planning action, knowing the four would try to take over and make everything perfect without taking into consideration the feelings of the actual people getting married.

Evan watched as Brock put in a few words, his own plans rising to the surface, and as he watched the man he loved take charge, he couldn't help the warmth that spread through his chest and throughout his body, sending him into a relaxed, content state, for real this time.

Yes, they'd be just fine.

Evan was sure of it, now.