To do so complicatedly
Everything
smells of cheap starch and stale sweat. It's just a rehearsal for a rehearsal, so no one's bothered much with make up, or clothes. Or anything, really. The florist arrives, huffing and puffing, having lugged sixteen heavy glass vases in a cart tied to the back of her rickety bicycle.
The wedding planner almost chokes a bitch when the the vases turned out to be ones tinted blue instead of the ones tinted mauve. CYCLE BACK FUCKER. CYCLE THE HELL BACK.
Lavi sits on a chair that has curtains of silk and a bow of makeshift crumpled paper.
Man, days before the Wedding are always the busiest. Being a stand-in isn't the most fun, but it's interesting work for a stand-in mostly-out-of-work budding-actor (possibly). Fresh out of university, overstaying illegally, everyone does what they can to scrape by, and Lavi's been planning for an interesting life since he was old enough to spell the damned word.
"BRIDE. BRIDE TO ALTAR, FIFTEEN SECONDS." A shrill scream made even worse by a megaphone has Lavi leaping over a waitress having a cigarette break sneakily by a window, slipping and sliding on the smooth wooden flooring to get to the altar in time. "Ready 'nd present!"
Before the planner's got time to stab him in his only eye with a pointer stick the ninja make-up lady poofs into existence, neatens his hair into an elegant... thing, and disappears all over again. Both Lavi and the frazzled planner take a moment to appreciate a true genius, before the megaphone's up and now it's time for the Groom.
And because the Groom is Lavi's flatmate, he'd be lying if he said he was surprised that even the screamer allocated a good fourty-five seconds for the Groom to show up.
"Because he won't need a touch-up," the man says sulkily, glaring at Lavi's good-natured smile.
'course he won't. He's a fuckin' Kanda, what what.
And nonchalantly strolling up to the altar, exactly at the fiftieth second, is full-time employee at a tea shop, part-time accompany-er of Lavis on strange work events, eminently dashing in his Eastern Emperor ways, Kanda Yuu.
There's no whoosh of the make-up lady. Without a doubt, Kanda's a good-looking dick. He didn't accompany Lavi often, because unlike that asshole he's got an actual paying job, but standing around for an hour or two and getting paid cold hard cash for it is appealing. He takes his place standing next to Lavi, scowling at the megaphone.
Must've burned, or something, the planner drops it so fast.
"Wedding march practice. G, stand by that ghastly blue vase. B, enter from door on cue. Organ player couldn't make it today, so time it to-" a brief pause as he furiously consults the music player in his hand, "-Avatar, The Last Airbender season three theme."
Well, well, well. Lavi and Kanda met through an ad Kanda placed on a website for men with... certain interests.
(Geeks. Because Kanda's antisocial and he had wanted a nerd who'd pay rent on time but mostly keep to himself and fap over comic books in the shittier room. Instead he'd gotten a Lavi, about seven months ago. Who'd been loud and strange and happy to have the shittier room.)
(Not that it gets much use nowadays anways. Kanda's bed is massive and Lavi is as good at being an illegal resident there as he is at being an illegal resident of this country.)
Lavi raises a hand. "Agni Kai or Cave Jivin'?"
-
The priest isn't so free that he could just show up to the rehearsal for the rehearsal of the wedding, especially when not even the actual bride and groom are there. Instead anyone who's hanging around and is able to read is sent off with a laminated card with all the words, and a tie around their neck.
It's a newbie today, Lavi thinks mildly. He's good with faces, even better with names, and he most definitely has seen all the priests commonly associated with senor wedding planner sir. It's funny to see the boy's nervous eyes dart between his and Kanda's linked arms, and the bouquet of someone's clean socks in his hands.
"Uhm." The boy's got brown hair, a pleasant accent, and a thoughtful, slightly worried expression. "Uhm. Honestly, I'm fine with this, but I find it my duty as the organ cleaner of at least six churches to tell you that you men touching is an abomination. Probably."
A nervous laugh, that Lavi can't blame him for. Kanda's eyes could bore holes if he ever mustered up enough animosity to overcome his natural apathy.
"But I'm all up for this love nest arrangement," he waves at the B&G with his card, "as long as you two are terribly satisfied with life. Ah. I'm like a cult leader that way."
Which Lavi takes as a legitimate reason to break the meek hold he had on Kanda's elbow to snort with laughter and high-five the caretaker of organs.
Kanda smacks them both about like the horrible person he is. The wedding planner is very seriously studying the cream-coloured doilies that are cheaper for the less liked tables and the pure white ones for the bride and groom and their families, so no rescue there.
"Get serious, bastards. I'm too good for either of you losers."
"You may say so, sir, but I handle much, much bigger organs on a daily basis~"
Allen gets another high five, and Lavi gets a kick that almost hits the crown jewels.
"Perfect." A glorious Kanda smirk. "A proper bride and a goddamned virgin priest. Read those rights before I read them for you."
As far as threats go, this doesn't make much sense. But since Lavi's now gently whimpering in a voice two octaves too high, no one makes a complaint.
"This isn't White, it's Porcelain!!!" Three exclamation marks, the wedding planner is screaming at no one through his megaphone, and everything is totally okay, Lavi tells Allen (his latest buddy, this organ-man this) that he and Kanda and the rest of the staff get all this shit rained on them so that the bride doesn't have her gorgey, gorgey dress stained.
But! Lavi can't talk long, because Kanda's changed his attention to the semi-hysterical wedding planner, and Lavi's got to tackle him down to the ground before he kicks the megaphone down the man's throat.
-
Cake testing. It's part of the perks, yeah? Of being the stand in. That and beautifully conditioned hair. And sheer entertainment.
Kanda's only in it for the cash (and the beautifully conditioned hair). He opts out of tasting the cake in order to seek communion with the leaves and cut-off stems near the florist and the small fridge for flowers.
Lavi eats away happily, but a problem makes itself immediately obvious. He reads about what the couples do and don't like, will and won't do, can and can't eat, all that sort of thing. He finds people fascinating, yeah, and it makes for interesting night-time reading (Kanda falls asleep really really shamefully quickly during the night). Not to mention he feels better prepared to be as good a facsimile of the bride or groom as need be. It's character acting done so very, very well that not one wedding planner has thus far realised that it's not that Lavi's coincidentally very similar in nature to their client, as it is that Lavi's just very, very good at this strange mimicry.
It goes right down to fundamental things. He frowns, and taps the planner's plate with his fork. "Th'girl's allergic t'nutmeg, isn't she? 'm not one t'upset you, yeah, but there's definitely nutmeg in this. 'nd she's not daintily allergic, yeah? 's not just going t'be a rash 'nd a sneezing fit. 's going t'be more like..."
Character actors, man. They're such a waste of space.
Lavi takes a deep breath, and starts simulating someone whose airways are shutting down on him. There's wild, helpless gasping, perhaps a little melodramatic with the hand gestures, and him finally gently sliding out the chair, crumpling on the floor with a hand at his throat.
Kanda is worried for all of half a second before he remembers that, in fact, his flatmate is a little sick in the head. He returns to pruning some shrubs for the indoor topiary with a bread knife.
The wedding planner's worked with Lavi before. Doesn't waste time on reviving the not-unconscious (who faints with that big of a smug smile on their faces), and instead is hollering down his megaphone for the damned, damned, god-damned baker.
-
It's twilight already, and they've got thirty minutes left in the rental of the room before the caretaker will come and chase all of them out with a broom. The florist has long since cycled home carting an empty cart!!! thanks to Lavi calmly reminding the planner that the Groom's got blue-blue eyes, no one's got mauve eyes, and with a suitably big smile and a dash of confidence this colour choice can be the best decision they've ever made. Most of the people have already gone home already; stand-ins are all that're left at the hall, since the artisans and them need to get the actual stuff done in their own workshops.
Stand-ins and the wedding planner, really. Who's going to be responsible for the way the wedding turns out, and while they may screw around and Lavi might take secret cigarette breaks by the windows too and Kanda might overrule the decision of the actual florist and take the flower arrangements in a new direction, everyone's in it for at least partly for the same reason.
Two people are about to get legally knotted up in each other, and they'll need all the help they could get. If Kanda's willing to offer sexual favours in return to get Lavi to do all the grocery shopping and cooking and cleaning, he's willing to stand there with a semi-disinterested face so that two strangers won't get depressed on a day that's supposed to be really quite jolly (also he's doing it for the cash.)
Someone had managed to source a replacement for the wrong-coloured doilies, and because it was a mistake on the side of the company and not the planner he'd been given the wrong ones to keep for free too. Three of those have been stuck together with superglue lying around after the planner's underlings had spent an hour and a half meticulously gluing beads to the appropriate tablecloths, to rather pleasant effect. They're pinned in Lavi's messy-ass violently red hair, courtesy of ninja make-up lady who may or may not still be around... somewhere.
"Last go. We've already practiced the fire drill, the earthquake drill, the drunk best man, the crying bride, and the absentee groom. This is the last one. You guys know what to do." It's the only time in the whole day when the planner will speak in a quiet, reverential voice. It's a stressful occupation; you do it out of love or you wouldn't be able to do it anyways. Toting his massive binder, he goes to sit right behind the faux-not-faux couple.
Allen clears his throat, loosening the tie around his neck. He's got zero-training on this, and the atmosphere was making him wish he was a little taller (though he generally has always wished for that anyways) and a little better at being as grand and gracious as being someone who marries people could be.
"Uhm. Dear everyone, we're gathered here today to... unite? Er. Two people in matrimony. The weather's been good today, which is always a good sign, especially at this time of the year. The cake was amazing, by the way. Perhaps a tad too much nutmeg?"
A trademark Kanda What-The-Fuck, TM, glare.
Allen gets back on track. "Anyways. Mm. I'll do the pleasantries later. Er. Please do feel free to exchange your vows?"
He hastily consults the laminated sheet in his hands, trying to find any indication about who's meant to start the exchange. Doesn't see it (this being the sort of information you learn while getting qualified for the Real Deal, o' course), and improvises. Kanda, and Lavi. K comes before L, keep a pokferface, and sound confident. "As is traditional, the groom will start."
What a star I am.
Kanda shrugs, even if him actually working this sort of job with the sort of idiot who's got doilies in his hair is sortof a big commitment in and of itself. "He's okay-looking when he's clean. And the extra rent's good, I guess."
So's the red, and the being quite smart, and the soul-deep disdain for way more things than he shows, and the weird accent.
Quite likely, it's mostly the red.
Even though he's known the man with the long dark hair and angry angry face for only a couple of hours, Allen can tell he should feel lucky to've even gotten this much. So he smiles primly at Lavi. "And the bride?"
Sorry, sorry. Lavi's too busy laughing, but eventually he calms down. "Just got t'say, 'm feeling so ver' ver' loved, right now, yeah? Heart's bleeding, that sort 'f thing. 'nd Yu's a great big giant prick 'f a man, yeah, but he's kind t'plants 'nd he's th'best sort of guy where it counts. Plus th'reduced rent's good, yeah, I guess."
The two of them share a look, and Lavi looks away to laugh again and Kanda just clicks his tongue.
Allen looks between them, and feels a little embarrassed. Whatever relationship the stand-ins had was sort of embarrassing to see. For one thing, they didn't seem to look like they quite noticed how they were actually dressed ridiculously, standing in a place decorated ridiculously, being watched by two ridiculous strangers. But then again, Kanda and Lavi themselves seem pretty ridiculous, so maybe this all fits in, yeah?
Tedious words that sound rather dry, but there's always the crescendo, right right.
"Kanda, do you take Lavi-"
"Pfft. No."
"Uh huh. And Lavi, do you take Kanda-"
"'course. Yuu-chan's a magnificent man among men."
"I'm sure he is. Er. Now you may both kiss... each other."
Of course they do. The wedding planner, running high on emotion, sheds a tear and gives a standing ovation. Kanda's not the biggest fan of public shows of affection, which is why the wedding planner then gets the rolled-up bouquet of socks to the face.
"I now pronounce you, man and other man."
I, thee wed. The janitor comes screaming with his broomstick, and ruins the mysticism of Overwhelming Ridic.
-
On the way home, Kanda and Lavi count through the pay for the day. "Enough t'splurge f'a pizza, Yuu-chan." A bright, bright grin. "Fancy Italian 'nd sex f'our wedding night?"
Kanda happily slaps the back of Lavi's head pretty hard. "Happens four times a month. You're not that special, idiot."
It's already dark, by now, and it's frigid. Lavi whaps Kanda in the face with the end of his scarf. "Bad boss, ver' bad boss indeed. Rabbits die 'f broken hearts all th'time. You're going t'miss me when I die, yeah?"
"The rent. I'd miss the rent."
A long lull in conversation as they carry on walking home. Kanda's got an early morning, and Lavi's got odd jobs to look for. He hands the hot cup of milk tea they'd bought at the golden arches (he'd seen a job vacancy poster while he'd been there, hmm) to Kanda to ward off the chill.
"Reckon you 'nd me'd ever get married?"
"That's illegal and you're illegal."
"That's not 'n answer."
Kanda gives it a minimum amount of thought. "This works fine. We're better standing-in for people getting married than doing that. Idiot." A sharp-ass grin. "Too mainstream for us."
Lavi's laughing again. "Oh, boss. Y'sure know how t'sweep an illegal immigrant off his feet."
Damn straight.
Think about it, rabbit, if you're so smart and learned with your degree and shit. Who'd want to get married for real, anyways, when he can do this four times a month?
(Lavi might secretly have an actually very long list of character plusses.)
-
A/N:
gd i'm bad at endings. Excuse any typos, this was sortof written in one session of verbal diarrhea. In theory I don't like writing about weddings because I'm bad at romance, but this tickles my lol those losers quirks. If you've read the fast food story, it's possibly in the same universe. HAPPY LAVIKANDA DAY MAY YOU BE BLESSED HAPPILY.
smells of cheap starch and stale sweat. It's just a rehearsal for a rehearsal, so no one's bothered much with make up, or clothes. Or anything, really. The florist arrives, huffing and puffing, having lugged sixteen heavy glass vases in a cart tied to the back of her rickety bicycle.
The wedding planner almost chokes a bitch when the the vases turned out to be ones tinted blue instead of the ones tinted mauve. CYCLE BACK FUCKER. CYCLE THE HELL BACK.
Lavi sits on a chair that has curtains of silk and a bow of makeshift crumpled paper.
Man, days before the Wedding are always the busiest. Being a stand-in isn't the most fun, but it's interesting work for a stand-in mostly-out-of-work budding-actor (possibly). Fresh out of university, overstaying illegally, everyone does what they can to scrape by, and Lavi's been planning for an interesting life since he was old enough to spell the damned word.
"BRIDE. BRIDE TO ALTAR, FIFTEEN SECONDS." A shrill scream made even worse by a megaphone has Lavi leaping over a waitress having a cigarette break sneakily by a window, slipping and sliding on the smooth wooden flooring to get to the altar in time. "Ready 'nd present!"
Before the planner's got time to stab him in his only eye with a pointer stick the ninja make-up lady poofs into existence, neatens his hair into an elegant... thing, and disappears all over again. Both Lavi and the frazzled planner take a moment to appreciate a true genius, before the megaphone's up and now it's time for the Groom.
And because the Groom is Lavi's flatmate, he'd be lying if he said he was surprised that even the screamer allocated a good fourty-five seconds for the Groom to show up.
"Because he won't need a touch-up," the man says sulkily, glaring at Lavi's good-natured smile.
'course he won't. He's a fuckin' Kanda, what what.
And nonchalantly strolling up to the altar, exactly at the fiftieth second, is full-time employee at a tea shop, part-time accompany-er of Lavis on strange work events, eminently dashing in his Eastern Emperor ways, Kanda Yuu.
There's no whoosh of the make-up lady. Without a doubt, Kanda's a good-looking dick. He didn't accompany Lavi often, because unlike that asshole he's got an actual paying job, but standing around for an hour or two and getting paid cold hard cash for it is appealing. He takes his place standing next to Lavi, scowling at the megaphone.
Must've burned, or something, the planner drops it so fast.
"Wedding march practice. G, stand by that ghastly blue vase. B, enter from door on cue. Organ player couldn't make it today, so time it to-" a brief pause as he furiously consults the music player in his hand, "-Avatar, The Last Airbender season three theme."
Well, well, well. Lavi and Kanda met through an ad Kanda placed on a website for men with... certain interests.
(Geeks. Because Kanda's antisocial and he had wanted a nerd who'd pay rent on time but mostly keep to himself and fap over comic books in the shittier room. Instead he'd gotten a Lavi, about seven months ago. Who'd been loud and strange and happy to have the shittier room.)
(Not that it gets much use nowadays anways. Kanda's bed is massive and Lavi is as good at being an illegal resident there as he is at being an illegal resident of this country.)
Lavi raises a hand. "Agni Kai or Cave Jivin'?"
-
The priest isn't so free that he could just show up to the rehearsal for the rehearsal of the wedding, especially when not even the actual bride and groom are there. Instead anyone who's hanging around and is able to read is sent off with a laminated card with all the words, and a tie around their neck.
It's a newbie today, Lavi thinks mildly. He's good with faces, even better with names, and he most definitely has seen all the priests commonly associated with senor wedding planner sir. It's funny to see the boy's nervous eyes dart between his and Kanda's linked arms, and the bouquet of someone's clean socks in his hands.
"Uhm." The boy's got brown hair, a pleasant accent, and a thoughtful, slightly worried expression. "Uhm. Honestly, I'm fine with this, but I find it my duty as the organ cleaner of at least six churches to tell you that you men touching is an abomination. Probably."
A nervous laugh, that Lavi can't blame him for. Kanda's eyes could bore holes if he ever mustered up enough animosity to overcome his natural apathy.
"But I'm all up for this love nest arrangement," he waves at the B&G with his card, "as long as you two are terribly satisfied with life. Ah. I'm like a cult leader that way."
Which Lavi takes as a legitimate reason to break the meek hold he had on Kanda's elbow to snort with laughter and high-five the caretaker of organs.
Kanda smacks them both about like the horrible person he is. The wedding planner is very seriously studying the cream-coloured doilies that are cheaper for the less liked tables and the pure white ones for the bride and groom and their families, so no rescue there.
"Get serious, bastards. I'm too good for either of you losers."
"You may say so, sir, but I handle much, much bigger organs on a daily basis~"
Allen gets another high five, and Lavi gets a kick that almost hits the crown jewels.
"Perfect." A glorious Kanda smirk. "A proper bride and a goddamned virgin priest. Read those rights before I read them for you."
As far as threats go, this doesn't make much sense. But since Lavi's now gently whimpering in a voice two octaves too high, no one makes a complaint.
"This isn't White, it's Porcelain!!!" Three exclamation marks, the wedding planner is screaming at no one through his megaphone, and everything is totally okay, Lavi tells Allen (his latest buddy, this organ-man this) that he and Kanda and the rest of the staff get all this shit rained on them so that the bride doesn't have her gorgey, gorgey dress stained.
But! Lavi can't talk long, because Kanda's changed his attention to the semi-hysterical wedding planner, and Lavi's got to tackle him down to the ground before he kicks the megaphone down the man's throat.
-
Cake testing. It's part of the perks, yeah? Of being the stand in. That and beautifully conditioned hair. And sheer entertainment.
Kanda's only in it for the cash (and the beautifully conditioned hair). He opts out of tasting the cake in order to seek communion with the leaves and cut-off stems near the florist and the small fridge for flowers.
Lavi eats away happily, but a problem makes itself immediately obvious. He reads about what the couples do and don't like, will and won't do, can and can't eat, all that sort of thing. He finds people fascinating, yeah, and it makes for interesting night-time reading (Kanda falls asleep really really shamefully quickly during the night). Not to mention he feels better prepared to be as good a facsimile of the bride or groom as need be. It's character acting done so very, very well that not one wedding planner has thus far realised that it's not that Lavi's coincidentally very similar in nature to their client, as it is that Lavi's just very, very good at this strange mimicry.
It goes right down to fundamental things. He frowns, and taps the planner's plate with his fork. "Th'girl's allergic t'nutmeg, isn't she? 'm not one t'upset you, yeah, but there's definitely nutmeg in this. 'nd she's not daintily allergic, yeah? 's not just going t'be a rash 'nd a sneezing fit. 's going t'be more like..."
Character actors, man. They're such a waste of space.
Lavi takes a deep breath, and starts simulating someone whose airways are shutting down on him. There's wild, helpless gasping, perhaps a little melodramatic with the hand gestures, and him finally gently sliding out the chair, crumpling on the floor with a hand at his throat.
Kanda is worried for all of half a second before he remembers that, in fact, his flatmate is a little sick in the head. He returns to pruning some shrubs for the indoor topiary with a bread knife.
The wedding planner's worked with Lavi before. Doesn't waste time on reviving the not-unconscious (who faints with that big of a smug smile on their faces), and instead is hollering down his megaphone for the damned, damned, god-damned baker.
-
It's twilight already, and they've got thirty minutes left in the rental of the room before the caretaker will come and chase all of them out with a broom. The florist has long since cycled home carting an empty cart!!! thanks to Lavi calmly reminding the planner that the Groom's got blue-blue eyes, no one's got mauve eyes, and with a suitably big smile and a dash of confidence this colour choice can be the best decision they've ever made. Most of the people have already gone home already; stand-ins are all that're left at the hall, since the artisans and them need to get the actual stuff done in their own workshops.
Stand-ins and the wedding planner, really. Who's going to be responsible for the way the wedding turns out, and while they may screw around and Lavi might take secret cigarette breaks by the windows too and Kanda might overrule the decision of the actual florist and take the flower arrangements in a new direction, everyone's in it for at least partly for the same reason.
Two people are about to get legally knotted up in each other, and they'll need all the help they could get. If Kanda's willing to offer sexual favours in return to get Lavi to do all the grocery shopping and cooking and cleaning, he's willing to stand there with a semi-disinterested face so that two strangers won't get depressed on a day that's supposed to be really quite jolly (also he's doing it for the cash.)
Someone had managed to source a replacement for the wrong-coloured doilies, and because it was a mistake on the side of the company and not the planner he'd been given the wrong ones to keep for free too. Three of those have been stuck together with superglue lying around after the planner's underlings had spent an hour and a half meticulously gluing beads to the appropriate tablecloths, to rather pleasant effect. They're pinned in Lavi's messy-ass violently red hair, courtesy of ninja make-up lady who may or may not still be around... somewhere.
"Last go. We've already practiced the fire drill, the earthquake drill, the drunk best man, the crying bride, and the absentee groom. This is the last one. You guys know what to do." It's the only time in the whole day when the planner will speak in a quiet, reverential voice. It's a stressful occupation; you do it out of love or you wouldn't be able to do it anyways. Toting his massive binder, he goes to sit right behind the faux-not-faux couple.
Allen clears his throat, loosening the tie around his neck. He's got zero-training on this, and the atmosphere was making him wish he was a little taller (though he generally has always wished for that anyways) and a little better at being as grand and gracious as being someone who marries people could be.
"Uhm. Dear everyone, we're gathered here today to... unite? Er. Two people in matrimony. The weather's been good today, which is always a good sign, especially at this time of the year. The cake was amazing, by the way. Perhaps a tad too much nutmeg?"
A trademark Kanda What-The-Fuck, TM, glare.
Allen gets back on track. "Anyways. Mm. I'll do the pleasantries later. Er. Please do feel free to exchange your vows?"
He hastily consults the laminated sheet in his hands, trying to find any indication about who's meant to start the exchange. Doesn't see it (this being the sort of information you learn while getting qualified for the Real Deal, o' course), and improvises. Kanda, and Lavi. K comes before L, keep a pokferface, and sound confident. "As is traditional, the groom will start."
What a star I am.
Kanda shrugs, even if him actually working this sort of job with the sort of idiot who's got doilies in his hair is sortof a big commitment in and of itself. "He's okay-looking when he's clean. And the extra rent's good, I guess."
So's the red, and the being quite smart, and the soul-deep disdain for way more things than he shows, and the weird accent.
Quite likely, it's mostly the red.
Even though he's known the man with the long dark hair and angry angry face for only a couple of hours, Allen can tell he should feel lucky to've even gotten this much. So he smiles primly at Lavi. "And the bride?"
Sorry, sorry. Lavi's too busy laughing, but eventually he calms down. "Just got t'say, 'm feeling so ver' ver' loved, right now, yeah? Heart's bleeding, that sort 'f thing. 'nd Yu's a great big giant prick 'f a man, yeah, but he's kind t'plants 'nd he's th'best sort of guy where it counts. Plus th'reduced rent's good, yeah, I guess."
The two of them share a look, and Lavi looks away to laugh again and Kanda just clicks his tongue.
Allen looks between them, and feels a little embarrassed. Whatever relationship the stand-ins had was sort of embarrassing to see. For one thing, they didn't seem to look like they quite noticed how they were actually dressed ridiculously, standing in a place decorated ridiculously, being watched by two ridiculous strangers. But then again, Kanda and Lavi themselves seem pretty ridiculous, so maybe this all fits in, yeah?
Tedious words that sound rather dry, but there's always the crescendo, right right.
"Kanda, do you take Lavi-"
"Pfft. No."
"Uh huh. And Lavi, do you take Kanda-"
"'course. Yuu-chan's a magnificent man among men."
"I'm sure he is. Er. Now you may both kiss... each other."
Of course they do. The wedding planner, running high on emotion, sheds a tear and gives a standing ovation. Kanda's not the biggest fan of public shows of affection, which is why the wedding planner then gets the rolled-up bouquet of socks to the face.
"I now pronounce you, man and other man."
I, thee wed. The janitor comes screaming with his broomstick, and ruins the mysticism of Overwhelming Ridic.
-
On the way home, Kanda and Lavi count through the pay for the day. "Enough t'splurge f'a pizza, Yuu-chan." A bright, bright grin. "Fancy Italian 'nd sex f'our wedding night?"
Kanda happily slaps the back of Lavi's head pretty hard. "Happens four times a month. You're not that special, idiot."
It's already dark, by now, and it's frigid. Lavi whaps Kanda in the face with the end of his scarf. "Bad boss, ver' bad boss indeed. Rabbits die 'f broken hearts all th'time. You're going t'miss me when I die, yeah?"
"The rent. I'd miss the rent."
A long lull in conversation as they carry on walking home. Kanda's got an early morning, and Lavi's got odd jobs to look for. He hands the hot cup of milk tea they'd bought at the golden arches (he'd seen a job vacancy poster while he'd been there, hmm) to Kanda to ward off the chill.
"Reckon you 'nd me'd ever get married?"
"That's illegal and you're illegal."
"That's not 'n answer."
Kanda gives it a minimum amount of thought. "This works fine. We're better standing-in for people getting married than doing that. Idiot." A sharp-ass grin. "Too mainstream for us."
Lavi's laughing again. "Oh, boss. Y'sure know how t'sweep an illegal immigrant off his feet."
Damn straight.
Think about it, rabbit, if you're so smart and learned with your degree and shit. Who'd want to get married for real, anyways, when he can do this four times a month?
(Lavi might secretly have an actually very long list of character plusses.)
-
A/N:
gd i'm bad at endings. Excuse any typos, this was sortof written in one session of verbal diarrhea. In theory I don't like writing about weddings because I'm bad at romance, but this tickles my lol those losers quirks. If you've read the fast food story, it's possibly in the same universe. HAPPY LAVIKANDA DAY MAY YOU BE BLESSED HAPPILY.