Bedevere poured himself a glass of red wine and sat at his work desk.
He opened the top drawer and took out his recorder. He turned it on, and leaned back in his chair, wine glass in hand.
"My dearest Bedevere. How long has it been since I held you in my arms while you whispered my name in the dark? How long has it been since you held my hair up while I was exorcising the tequila demon from my system? You have always been looking after me.", the familiar voice that had traversed thousands of lightyears and was stored inside the tiny recorder was speaking again.
"You and I both know that I'm not very good at taking care of myself. Was that not the reason you didn't want me to go on this expedition? Was that not the reason we have wasted those precious last days together fighting and guilt-tripping each other? I could have handled that situation better; I realize that now. I realized that then too, of course, but a part of me wanted to shield myself from the real pain. I couldn't show you how heartbroken I was to be leaving you behind. I had to be strong. And the only way I know how is to act like a douchebag.
"I'm sorry."
Concorde waltzed into the room and leapt up on Bedevere's lap, who began to stroke him gently. The cat was sleeping in no time.
"I'm sorry I can't be there when you're presenting your latest hypothesis on astrophysics or when you're debating string theory with that awful Professor French. But I know that you would have loved it out here. We're approaching the Grail-shaped Nebula but all I see when I'm looking out the window is the blackness of empty space. You would have seen a different picture, I know. You'd have seen all the wonders of the Universe in that blackness, and you would have taken your sweet time trying to explain them to me. A fool's errand, really, but I do love listening to you when you get lost in the topic that you love. Which is why I love it when you talk about me.
"You should have been out here with us. I know, you made your decision. When you said you were leaving the Order, I was shocked. I didn't tell you then, because I wanted to be supportive, but I couldn't imagine the Order of Pendragon without you. To be honest, this whole expedition seems pointless because you're not the one running it."
"It's Valentine's Day, and on board the Camelot, the crew has put up the most atrocious, tacky decorations. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that even in the vastest depths of outer space the humankind can't help but bring their traditions with them, no matter how dumb they are. Or how commercial they are, which makes no sense, because we don't have commercialism on the Camelot. Life on board of a royal exploration vessel is as close to an anarcho-syndicalist commune as it will get, and yet we insist on perpetuating these obsolete, anachronistic, and utterly harmful norms which confuse the idea of love and romance with the concept of material wealth, and possessiveness. I mean, here we are, defying the boundaries of spacetime itself, on our way to explore one of the greatest mysteries of the Universe, and we're painting candy hearts? Really, humanity?
"There I go ranting again. Hello, my name is Dennis, and I like to rant about everything! In the good-old days, I'd have my own YouTube channel. And you'd be my guest of honor. I know why people on the Camelot want to celebrate Valentine's Day. I get it, I do. They miss their loved ones. We all do.
"Remember our first Valentine's Day together? Of course, you remember it, but I'm going to describe it to you anyway, because I have been reliving that day in my head for a whole week now. It's actually very distracting.
"It had been a warm winter, and we were awfully naive when we planned our romantic picnic. Not a picnic in the park, but a picnic out in the wilderness. We drove miles and miles until we found that perfect spot - an open meadow. The grass was green and soft, and we put down a blanket, and a picnic basket, and it was like the goddamn Georges Seurat painting. I was only wearing a thin coat, being the idiot that I am, but you, being the smart one, wore a warm jacket, and I teased you when you started sweating.
"We had Russian vinaigrette salad, and roast beef sandwiches, and a bottle of red wine that cost us a fortune, but it was totally worth it. You had baked a cobbler for dessert, but we had nothing to heat it up in, so we ate lukewarm peach cobbler with melted vanilla ice cream, and it was perfect. We brought a bunch of sports gear, too, but the football and the Frisbee lay unused on the ground as we lay on the blanket, full and fat and completely spent.
"I wasn't laughing anymore when you took off your giant jacket and covered us both with it. It smelled like you, and I curled up into a ball next to you, and your breathing was so soothing, and then I was dreaming of cats, because we had talked about adopting a cat.
"But then I started dreaming of something very cold, and when I woke up, we were covered with a thick blanket of snow. Another hour and we would have been completely buried in the snow like a couple of bear cubs.
"The cold we both caught from that Valentine's Day blunder was nothing short of epic, but it was the best snotty, feverish, sweaty week of my life because I got to spend it with you. Just you and me under a blanket, eating ice cream, and watching Disney movies. And that had become out Valentine's Day tradition ever since: a chill day in with ice cream and Disney. How many parties did we bail out on, how many couples' resorts have we not visited in favor of just being together?
"I'm sorry that this year is different. I promise you I will make it up to you. This is my last expedition. When the Camelot docks, and I will once again step on the firm soil it will be for the last time. We will be together, and the only trips we'll be taking will be to Ikea. Or the Louvre. Or any romantic destination your heart desires.
"Bedevere, my sweet Beddy-bear - I know, I know! You hate it when I call you that, but you're a thousand lightyears away, so what are you gonna do to me? I mean, I have a couple of ideas- anyway, you're probably wondering… no, I know you're staying up late worrying if I eat right, if I'm warm, and taken care of. I am. The Camelot is a state-of-the-art ship, and life here isn't too bad. We each pull a twelve-hour shift, and after that we get to enjoy all the luxury a royal vessel has to offer. Lance and I train together. He's a beast, I kid you not. I've never seen such stamina. His biceps are bigger than his head. He's trying to get me to bulk up, but I keep telling him that I have a different build. A delicate bone structure. I have a runner's body, not Minotaur's body. He actually takes that as a compliment, when I call him the Minotaur. He's weird, but he's a good friend.
"Speaking of friends, how are things with you and Robin? I know he can be a handful sometimes, but he's loyal to a fault, and when I asked him to keep an eye on you for me, he took the job so seriously, he actually swore an oath. Don't get mad at him when he's always running around and making sure you're going to your therapy sessions: he's doing it for me. For us.
"Friends are good to have. I have this fantasy… no, not a fantasy, because I know it will be reality for us soon - that we will all come together and get obscenely drunk together. Lance will bring his husband, and Robin can make us his famous lemon chicken.
"Bedevere, my love! My friend, my confidant, my main squeeze! I'm afraid I must bid you farewell. Duty calls. I know we will be spending our next Valentine's Day in each other's arms, with you listening to my rants on commercialism and heteronormativity in comic book movies. Take care of yourself, and never change. I love you! Happy Valentine's Day, Beddy-bear!"
The message ended, and only the low hum of the recorder was heard.
Concorde was purring up a storm on Bedevere's lap, while he was stroking the cat, eyes fixed on something unseen in the window.
Snow was falling in large flakes, sticking to the glass.
There was a party in the apartment below. Someone was belting a cheesy old love song.
Bedevere finished his second glass of wine, but he didn't even feel the buzz. Everything seemed so clear. So sharp, and so empty.
Concorde stirred and woke up, straining his ears.
"What's wrong, kitty? Did you hear an intruder?"
"He just can't believe that his dad is spending Valentine's Day in the dark, listening to old recordings like in a sad sci fi movie."
Concorde leapt from Bedevere's lap and ran to the man in the doorway, who picked up the happily meowing cat and gave him a loud smooch.
"Yes, you've missed your daddy, haven't you? Did you keep your other daddy company while I was away?"
He looked at Bedevere who was still glued to the chair.
"Are you going to say something or just stare at me like I'm a Greek statue come to life? I mean, it's perfectly understandable-"
"Dennis", Bedevere said in a quiet whisper.
"Yeah, baby. I'm back.", Galahad smiled, fixing Bedevere with a look that erased the previous two years in one millisecond.
"Dennis", Bedevere said, louder this time.
It was Dennis, alright. Tall and stately in his white and gold uniform. His long auburn locks were pulled into a loose ponytail.
The next few minutes were a tear-stained blur. Before Bedevere knew it, he was throwing himself over his boyfriend, kissing his lips, his cold cheeks, his soft hair. Concorde was awkwardly pressed between them, and eventually clawed his way out of the tight embrace.
"Are you back for good then?", Bedevere held Dennis' face in his hands, taking in every line and mole. He was the same old Dennis Galahad, but different somehow. His cheeks have lost their round boyishness, and his features were sharper now.
"For goodest", he grinned.
Bedevere couldn't contain his laugh.
Bringing their foreheads together, Galahad said,
"It's just you and me from now on, baby."
"What about the Grail-shaped Nebula?"
"A real wonder of the Universe! You'll be reading about it in the next issue of Science Today. The nerds of the Order have sure found their Holy Grail."
"And what about you?", Bedevere asked in a small voice. He held Dennis tight, just to make sure that he wasn't a wine-induced illusion.
"I got payed. In fact, I already did some shopping-"
Bedevere laughed: Dennis wouldn't be Dennis if he didn't hit the mall first thing after coming home from a space expedition.
"What did you buy?"
Bedevere should have known that something was up from that self-satisfied smirk on his boyfriend's lips. Yet, he was frozen in place when Dennis went down on one knee and took a small box from his pocket.
"Steven Bedevere", Dennis opened the box revealing two rings in oxidized silver, "Will you make this idiot an honor by calling you his husband?"
Dennis' face was distorted by those pesky tears again, and Bedevere hastened to wipe them away with his sleeve. He didn't want to look like a tear-soaked disaster in a moment like this.
"Yes", was all he could manage before his voice cracked, "Yes, of course, I will!"
The rings fit perfectly, and Dennis was holding his tear-soaked disaster in his arms, himself crying now.
The snow was falling in large flakes, sticking to the glass. Concorde was napping in Bedevere's chair.
Bedevere kissed his fiancé and wiped away his tears with his thumb.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Denny."
"Happy Valentine's Day, Beddy-bear."