"Will, do you even want this?"

Paul threw his hands up in the air, exasperation written all over his face.

"Maybe I don't!"

Beats passed as the two remained still in their respective positions: Will curled into himself on their bed and Paul stationed in front of him.

Will was feeling defiant and petty and not particularly concerned with words he couldn't take back. Neither of them really knew how they'd reached this point, but here they were: three months away from their wedding date and seemingly on the verge of a breakup.

"Maybe you don't?" Paul questioned Will quietly as his arms dropped to his sides.

Though Will wasn't looking at him, he could feel Paul's eyes on him, anxious for an apology, an explanation, something.

"Okay." Paul swallowed tightly and continued after a moment, "I guess maybe you don't."

He grabbed his set of keys from the coffee table and made his way to the door.

"I'll be at my dad's," he called behind him as he left.

Will didn't leave the apartment for two days, save for a much needed playdate with Arianna, and after stubbornly ignoring calls and texts from Marlena, Lucas and even Adrienne, who was concerned about the lack of progress on his latest Spectator piece, he finally decided to venture outside. Pulling the covers from over his head, he felt the weight of Paul's absence wash over him.

"Maybe I don't!"

The words repeated in his mind as if on loop, the worst part being that they weren't even true. Paul was a combination of both his deepest desires and the dreams he'd never dared to hold for himself. He couldn't wait to marry him.

His entire life, Will had always had a peripheral sense of navigating through the world somewhat incomplete, as though there was something inside of himself that he couldn't reach. He'd thought that coming out would be the thing; that hiding reflected that emptiness, but that wasn't it, not really. So he'd chased it – through drinking and power plays and marriage and L.A. until he didn't quite know where to look anymore.

Then he'd found him. He found Paul.

But they weren't perfect.

Will's struggle with transparency and feelings of inadequacy, though lessened over the years, had reared its head more than once, and each time he was left in awe at the easy way Paul embraced him, mess and all. And Paul, for all his outward confidence and charm, wasn't without imperfection either. Old relationships had left their mark and, while he tried his best to gloss over past hurts, it was clear in his refusal to rock the boat, sometimes to his own detriment, and the way he occasionally clung to Will just a little too tightly at night, like he was subconsciously trying to reassure himself that he was still there.

That's when Will did his best to ease Paul's insecurities; to let him know that he was loved and they were good and Will wasn't leaving, not ever.

He hadn't done that the other night, though. He'd been agitated and cold, thoughtlessly flinging out words aimed to hurt.

With a deep sigh, he stood from the bed and made his way to the shower. They needed to talk today.

Will spent some time wandering the town square aimlessly before figuring that maybe a cup of coffee would do him some good.

When he spotted Paul standing outside of Common Grounds, it was like a thousand pounds lifted off his chest. The last 48 hours seemed like a lifetime and he missed his fiancé.

"Hi," he said, knowing well enough to approach with caution.

Paul eyed him silently as he crossed his arms against his torso. His eyes bore a slight redness and he'd sprouted a five o'clock shadow that Will immediately identified as a product of neglect. He looked sad.

"I am so sorry," Will pushed forward. "I don't even know why I reacted the way I did, I just… there's been so much time and money and focus going into the wedding that I was feeling overwhelmed and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I know that. I love you. I love you so much. And I do want this. I want this more than anything."

He held Paul's hand and pressed a firm kiss to his knuckles.

"Are you okay?"

Paul briefly eyed their surroundings, vaguely noting to himself that perhaps this wasn't a conversation suited for the middle of the town square, but at the same time he couldn't bring himself to actually care about that right now.

"I'm sorry if you're overwhelmed or if I've been putting pressure on you," he replied. Looking down at their joined hands, he visualized the moment he'd get to slide a ring onto Will's finger. His heart felt full and settled at the thought. "I know there are a million things going into this wedding, but we don't need any of it. I just want to be your husband."

There was no stopping the smile that curled at the edges of Will's mouth. Husband. He cupped Paul's face in his hands and brushed his thumbs across his cheeks as he kissed him, all tension releasing from his form.

"I just want to be your husband," he whispered against Paul's lips.

Paul wrapped his arms around Will's torso, holding him close.

"And I love you too."