Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Terry wouldn’t consider himself a liar, per se – at least, not first and foremost, or above all else.

He had, however, never been afraid of telling a white lie here and there. Not if it made his life a little easier, or a little more exciting, or something along those lines.

Now, when he was a young kid in the backwoods of Tennessee, the lie was, of course, about who he was and who he loved – until his Pa caught him tangled in the arms of another boy on the night before graduation, and he couldn’t lie about it anymore.

And that ended up alright, he supposed. His family was slow to adjust to the news, and a few never really did, but the important ones never left his side, and he couldn’t ask for much more than that, in the end.

But then, he moved out to sunny Los Angeles, and the lie, again, became who he was and what he did.

He’d moved out there to be an artist, having convinced himself at a young age that the big city was the only place where his talents in painting and tattooing could be not only discovered, but appreciated, and New York and Chicago were too cold for a native southerner like himself.

But soon, he realized the unfortunate truth of so many people that made a similar journey out west – that for however talented he’d been in his small town back home, his gifts didn’t come close to what was needed to make it in a cutthroat world like the Los Angeles art scene – a reality that he struggled to admit to the folk back in Tennessee, whether it be the ones that were rooting for him or those that’d be taking pleasure in his failures.

And so, he lied.

For years, he wrote home about the fictional tattoo parlors that were begging to hire him, or the nonexistent galleries that were housing his prints. And though he relished in both their pride and jealousy, still, eventually, the time came when he knew that the lie had to come to an end.

After all, someday, someone would surely want to come to one of these shows, or even just ask to see one of his subjects – and the people that were happy with his artistic career were the same ones that’d be thrilled to find out that he’d been made the general manager of a local restaurant, and so, he made it seem like he put the dream to rest, as though it’d ever left his bed in the first place.

But then, there was the lie about Joey.

A lie that wasn’t born to make his life any easier, exactly, or more exciting.

A lie that came to fruition, admittedly, because he was a stupid kid that wanted to piss off the few people back home that he’d stopped praying for before bed.

A lie that had, over the years, changed into one that did take some of the weight off his shoulders when it came to his family’s expectations – though not always.

A lie that he really, really tried not to think much about these days, apart from the few calls he made back home on Christmas and birthdays.

A lie that he had, in fact, intended to bury someday – or take to his grave, if he had to.

And a lie that he certainly hadn’t expected to confront today.

“Your sister’s getting married?”

Terry faltered as he turned the hall’s corner and found Joey leaning against his office door, balancing a stiff, glossy card between his fingers as he pressed his lips into a thin line.

“My sister?” Terry asked. “You mean, Dorothy?”

Joey nodded, and Terry’s eyes widened slightly.

He was as surprised as he wasn’t, really. His sister had been with her boyfriend, Carl, for well over a decade, now, and though Terry had never gotten the feeling that they were madly in love, still, she’d kept him around this long, and he’d figured that the invitation would be coming sooner or later.

“I see,” Terry said, frowning as he glanced at the crumpled envelope in Joey’s fist. “And why, exactly, are you going through my mail?”

And Joey cocked a brow, his stern gaze never once falling from Terry’s own as he tapped his finger against the card’s edge.

“Because,” Joey said, “this was addressed to Terry Robinson and Joey Cattaneo.”

Slowly, Joey raised the wrinkled envelope to reveal that he wasn’t lying.

And Terry froze, numbed by the sudden realization of what, exactly, was going on.

That being, of course, the worst possible thing that could probably ever happen –

“Suppose you can guess my next question,” Joey continued. “Why’ve I been invited to your sister’s wedding when I’ve never met anyone in your family?”

Terry felt the blood drain from his face as he stared at the perplexed chef.

He had a few options, now, of course.

He could tell the truth.

Or he could fake a heart attack.

Or he could run out the back door and never stop –

“Hell, I didn’t know you had a sister,” Joey said. “You’ve mentioned a brother once or twice, but never a Dorothy.”

Terry swallowed.

Or, of course, he could lie some more.

“One sister, and five older brothers,” Terry nodded. “She’s the last one of us to get married.”

Joey raised his brow. “Besides you, you mean.”

Terry pursed his lips as he pressed his clipboard closer to his thudding chest.

“Well, no shit,” he sighed. “Sure I’ve told her about you before, though, and our… friendship, and she must’ve just… assumed, I guess, that you’d be my… plus one.”

His stomach churned as Joey narrowed his stare, his peculiar frown only deepening as he fiddled with the invitation in his fist.

“You’re saying, Terry, that your family, who I’ve never met, just assumed that you’d want to bring me, your coworker, to your only sister’s wedding.”

And weakly, Terry shrugged.

Oh, this could not be happening.

Not today

Not any day.

“Don’t ask me what goes through their heads,” he said. “Sure she just thought I’d like a… friend.”

And slowly, Joey nodded, just as he turned the invitation over so that Terry could finally read it.

“Uh-huh,” he said. “Is that why your sister’s written at the bottom, here, that she ‘can’t wait to finally meet your man after twenty years?’”

Right.

He should’ve faked the heart attack.

He should’ve run out the back door when he still had a chance.

“Give me that,” Terry said, scrambling desperately for the card in Joey’s fist. “Sure you’re just misreading it –”

“No, your sister’s got lovely handwriting,” Joey hummed, not even having to bother to stand on his toes to keep the invitation out of his reach. “Why’s she think that I’m your man, though?”

“I don’t know,” he lied, groaning as he fell back in defeat. “Sure I’ve called you my right-hand man before, or something like that –”

“I’m serious, boss. What the hell is going on?”

And miserably, Terry stared at him, at the mixture of confusion and amusement on his executive chef’s face, which would surely fade into something worse if he were to tell him the truth.

No, this was not a lie that Terry anticipated confessing to today – or ever, frankly.

It was a lie that he’d tried to swallow.

A lie that he’d intended to bury.

Not a lie that he wanted to bare – and certainly not to him.

But what could he do?

How could he explain this situation with anything but the truth?

And Joey wouldn’t let this rest until he had the truth, of course.

Terry knew him too well – and for too long – to expect anything less.

“Right,” Terry said, fighting his grimace as he glanced down the empty hall. “Maybe, we should talk about this in my office.”

Joey whistled as he swung open the door. “Oh, this is gonna be good, isn’t it?”

Terry rolled his eyes as he followed after him. “Lock that behind us.”

And though he arched his brow, still, silently, Joey did as he asked, flicking the fussy lock into place before leaning back against the door, just as Terry perched anxiously on his desk’s corner.

Oh, he should’ve practiced this moment, he knew – had an emergency speech memorized in the event that disaster struck, just as it had now.

But Joey was never supposed to find out – and after twenty years, Terry had foolishly come to assume that he never would.

But Joey had, and there were no well-rehearsed excuses on Terry’s tongue, and so, all that poured from his nervous lips was the mortifying truth – or, at least, the bare bones of it.

“Now, I can explain why my sister would… assume that you’d come with me to her wedding,” he said slowly, hesitantly, “and why she’d, uh, call you my… man.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Joey nodded. “Was hoping you might.”

Pressing his heels to the desk’s legs, Terry winced, helpless against the faint trembling of his fists as they curled around the desk’s edge.

“Well, you see,” he said, “for the past, uh… twenty years, or so, I’ve been telling my family back home that we’re, uh… seeing each other.”

He shouldn’t, he knew, and still, despite his better judgment, Terry met Joey’s gaze, finding that the older chef stared at him with unmistakable bewilderment in his dark eyes – much to his little shock, of course.

“You mean… romantically?”

Slowly, Terry nodded. “According to them, you’re my…”

Oh, he couldn’t do it – he couldn’t say the word boyfriend in front of his work colleague for the past two decades –

“Your family knows you’re gay?”

And Terry faltered, his hands twitching around the desk’s stiff edge as he blinked at the chef.

“Well, yeah,” he said. “Since I was a teenager.”

“And they’re…” Joey raised his brow, “okay with it?”

Terry hollowed his cheeks.

“I mean, sure,” he said. “Nowadays, they’re just happy that I'm….”

A wry smile quirked on Joey’s lips. “In a long-term, committed relationship with a hard-working Italian man?”

Terry’s face reddened as he quickly turned his gaze to the clock above his door.

“Settling down’s real important in my family,” he said quietly. “Even when I was in high school, they were always bothering me about finding a girl and starting a family.”

Joey nodded. “So, they’d probably be really disappointed to find out that you haven’t had a boyfriend in the twenty years I’ve known you –”

“Joey, please.”

Terry winced, resenting the faint crack in his strained voice as he adamantly refused to meet Joey’s gaze – and still, from the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the growing smile on his colleague’s lips, as well as the bemused twinkle in his narrowed stare.

“Just saying that I think I understand, boss,” Joey said. “You tell your family that you’re in a relationship to shut ‘em up.”

“Now, don’t say it like that –”

“No, I get it.” Joey raised his hands defensively. “Seriously. I’ve got a family, too, you know.”

And Terry sank his teeth into his tongue as he reluctantly met Joey’s gaze.

Joey didn’t talk about his family that often – but neither did he, of course.

Probably for very different reasons, he supposed – and yet, maybe, some of the same.

He’d always have his suspicions – but he’d never bring them up.

That wasn’t the kind of relationship they had.

No more than they were the committed lovers that he’d painted them to be before his family.

They were work friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

And that’s what made this so humiliating, wasn’t it?

“Well, thanks, I guess, for understanding.” Terry stared at his shoes as his stomach twisted into knots. “And I really am sorry for involving you. Been meaning to come clean about it for a few years, now, but it’s not even something that comes up that often anymore –”

“Sure seems like you still talk about me to your sister, though.”

Joey’s small smile twitched as he waved the invitation in his fist – and quickly, Terry snatched it from him, the uneasy feeling in his stomach only worsening as he glimpsed his sister’s familiar cursive beneath his fingertips.

“Don’t worry about this,” Terry sighed. “I’ll call her tonight and tell her we’ve… ended things, or –”

“You don’t have to.”

And Terry faltered, the stiff card’s edge digging into his damp palm as he hesitantly met Joey’s gaze, only to find his stare flooded by an almost unsettling look of curiosity.

“What do you mean?”

Joey shrugged, tapping his fingers against the door’s surface as he nodded to the card in Terry’s fist.

“Said this makes your family happy, right?” Joey asked. “Well, it’d probably make them really happy if I showed up for your sister’s wedding, wouldn’t it?”

Terry stared at him.

“What are you suggesting?” he asked. “That you… come home with me, and pretend like you’re actually my partner of twenty years?”

“Why not?”

Why not?

Because that’s insane, Terry wanted to shout.

Because this lie needs to come to an end, not go a step further.

Because you and I can’t parade in front of my family like we’ve been lovers for two decades.

Because the thought of you meeting my family under any circumstances makes me want to faint.

And still, Terry couldn’t help but notice that his shoulders eased slightly at the thought.

Because this lie had been going on for a long time, hadn’t it?

And his family had been bothering him for many, many years now to bring his mysterious man back home.

And there’ve been rumors, he knew, about whether or not this Chef Joey of his was even real or not – and if this lie really was to finally come to an end, now, the least he could do is prove that he did exist, in the end.

He winced.

Even he didn’t really exist – not like that, at least.

“I don’t know,” Terry said slowly. “Doesn’t really seem like a great idea, honestly –”

“Oh, come on,” Joey said over him. “Give your family what they want –”

“Why do you care?”

Joey frowned.

“Because I’m your friend,” he said, “and I’ve been dying for twenty years, now, to see what kind of hellhole could’ve produced a guy like you.”

Terry’s fist flinched around the card’s edge.

God, it really would save him a lot of trouble, though, wouldn’t it?

If his family could meet Joey, just for a week, and settle, once and for all, whether or not he was being honest all these years – in favor of him, and not the truth, of course.

It could be a good thing, couldn’t it?

Really, it wasn’t something that he ever expected to happen, of course.

But to his great shock, Joey seemed not only willing to go along with this lie, but eager – a fact which caused him enough unease in and of itself, but that he couldn’t bring himself to think about, just now, either.

Hell, and his sister really had been begging, for decades, now, to finally meet Joey at last – and if he actually showed up at her wedding, well, Terry might not have to worry about spending any money on another gift at all.

“You really don’t have to do this, Joey,” Terry said. “I mean, I appreciate it, but –”

“It’d be no problem, boss,” Joey said, smiling. “My pleasure, even.”

And though he knew, of course, that he shouldn’t – that this was a lie best left behind, not shoved to the forefront – that this was an idea, so mad, he shouldn’t even be thinking about it – still, slowly, Terry nodded.

“Right,” he said quietly. “Well, you… You know the date, I mean.”

And Joey’s smile widened, only worsening the dread gnawing at Terry’s stomach.

“You’re the one who makes my schedule.” Joey reached for the doorknob. “Now, flights and board on you, I’m assuming?”

Terry sighed. “No, of course –”

“Fantastic.” Joey stepped through the door and into the hall. “See in you in September, then, boss –”

“See you then, Chef,” he called weakly after him, “and…”

Terry stared miserably at his empty door.

“And thank you,” he whispered, “maybe.”