And Many Happy Tomorrows, Chapter 7 (Fic)

[paleogymnast]

Chapter 7:

Two Weeks Later:

Chris hadn’t been expecting a big send-off on set, especially since so many of the cast and crew were invited to the wedding. But on the Thursday before Labor Day weekend, Chris’s wrap turned into an excuse for a party. Or maybe it was a wedding shower-even very pregnant Gina had come in when he was filming and was now wheeling over an elaborate cake with “Congratulations Chris and Mike!” spelled out across the top of it.

“Gee, thanks guys,” Chris said, feeling as embarrassed as he sounded.

“Have some cake,” Gina encouraged, handing over the first slice.

“And some Champagne,” said Aldis.

Chris looked over and Aldis and one of the lighting guys were holding a couple of freshly uncorked bottles of champagne while more crew members walked over carrying a stack of champagne flutes.

“Wow, thanks, I don’t know what to say,” Chris said, stunned.

“Well, just say thanks and enjoy yourself,” Tim said as he stepped up to Chris and slapped him on the shoulder. “I know this isn’t your wrap for the season, that you’ll be back in two weeks to do some pick up shots, but just in case you miss the wrap party because you’re too wrapped up in your new husband…”

Chris groaned at the pun.

“We wanted you to have something special,” Tim finished.

“Token of our appreciation for remaining sane throughout your wedding-planning experience,” Beth added, offering him a kiss on his cheek.

An hour later, he had received a dozen gift cards to as many stores-plenty of options for he and Mike to use restocking and refitting their apartment or any new place, if they ever decided to move-and he was so full of cake, he thought he was going to be sick. It was fun, lighthearted, and the perfect way to get Chris in the mood for his up coming nuptials.

Only, as he finally drove away from set, after hugging Beth and Jeri for what felt like the hundredth time (they had helped a lot with the wedding planning, after all, and they deserved some sudden attention), with his collection of loot from the party in tow, he realized just how acutely he missed Mike. Could he really wait two more days to be married?

~~~

“Did you know about the party?” he asked Mike on the phone later that evening as he struggled to get more or less packed. His flight left in the wee hours of the morning, and they were going on their honeymoon once the weekend was over, leaving directly from the wedding, so he needed to get packed now for the entire sequence of events.

“I might have known something,” Mike admitted, sounding positively devious. “Even gave Aldis some suggestions on what kind of cake you like, and what stores we’re likely to shop at.”

Chris let out a whine, “Do you have any idea how embarrassed I was?” he asked as he tossed a haphazard stack of boxers and socks into his suitcase, trying to get them in between the listing pile of t-shirts and the somewhat rumpled tower of shorts and swim trunks that were already there.

“Yeah, and it’s pretty frigging adorable, as far as I’m concerned,” Mike teased. Chris could hear a large zipper zipping in the background, so he was pretty sure Mike was packing too. A pause, then, “I wish I could have seen it!” Mike moped.

Mike was stuck in LA working on post-production and promotional efforts for his most recent project. He’d managed to clear a full month on his calendar without a single commitment, which meant he’d be able to return with Chris to Portland and stay while Chris finished up his season when they got back from their two-week honeymoon in Spain. The unpleasant side effect was the plan kept Mike in LA-and away from Chris-until the last possible moment. Mike was catching his own flight out of LAX tonight, and they wouldn’t see each other until the disembarked the planes and were on their way to pick up their marriage license.

“I wish you’d been there, too,” Chris agreed, turning back to his closet. Pretty much everything was packed now. He had jeans, dress pants, a sport jacket, t-shirts, shorts, swim trunks, socks, underwear, a few button-up shirts, a couple of hoodies, and a few slinkier items more appropriate for doing the sort of clubbing Mike was inclined to. Their two weeks in Spain-another country where their marriage and newlywed status would be recognized-included three days on the famed isle of Ibiza, so Chris wanted to be prepared for all possibilities. He’d even packed flip-flops, running shoes, and hiking boots in addition to his everyday cowboy boots. He supposed he could have left some of the items at home and just bought what he needed in Spain, but he didn’t really like the idea of having to break in new footwear in the middle of a hike or run or whatever else they wound up doing. He did feel a little like a stereotype, and the suitcase was probably well over the weight restrictions, so he would be paying an overweight bag fee (and probably paying for an extra bag on the way back, if he bought anything, but at least he would have everything he needed. Chris’s packing was almost complete. Only his passport, toiletries, and wedding tuxedo remained.

Chris looked at the garment bag hanging in the closet and reached out to touch it, unable to resist the impulse to unzip the bag and peek inside. It was hard to believe that in less than 48 hours he’d be wearing that tux and marrying Mike. It fit beautifully. Just yesterday he’d taken the tux on set, much to his co-stars’ delight, so Susie in the costume department, of all things, could make some final, minor adjustments. The tux had looked and felt great, and he itched to wear it. Of course, he wanted to see Mike in his tux even more.

“Are you staring at your tux?” Mike asked, snapping Chris out of his daydream.

“Yeah, Chris answered, his voice coming out as a squawk as he snatched his hand away from the garment bag, “how’d you guess.”

“You sounded all reverent… and then you got really quiet,” Mike answered; Chris could hear the mile in hi voice. “Just don’t forget it!” Mike blurted.

Chris chuckled, “I’m this close to walking around the house with it until the taxi comes to take me to the airport. He lifted the garment bag from the hangar rod in the closet and carefully laid it on the bed next to his suitcase. What was he missing? Oh, shoes, right! He’d packed all his other shoes, but not the ones that went with the tux. Chris turned back to the closet and retrieved the box of footwear he’d bought specifically for the occasion, he checked to make sure the cufflinks for the tux’s dress shirt were safely tucked in the box next to the shoes. Good, they were there. “I just wish I was going to get more time with you before the wedding,” he admitted as he fit the box inside and zipped the suitcase closed. Chris stepped towards the bathroom to get his toiletries and snatched his passport out of the dresser as he went by.

“We get to see each other at the airport, and when we pick up the license and do the rehearsal,” Mike offered. “And then we’ll see each other at the ‘obligatory social event’ Dave is planning.”

Chris snorted at the euphemistic name his friend had given to the bachelor party he had planned. “Yeah,” Chris agreed, “but none of that is really just you and me, alone together. And then we’ve got separate rooms tomorrow night,” he sighed. “I really miss you.”

“Hey, the rooms are making my parents happy,” Mie explained, “plus it’s kind of fun, traditional! But we’ll have the honeymoon suite all to ourselves the next night, and then two weeks in Europe!” Mike sounded so excited, it really did boost Chris’s mood.

Chris returned to the suitcase to pack the remaining items in a side pocket. “I know,” he agreed, still feeling a little down. “Just wish it was Saturday night already.”

~~~

Mike had tried to sound enthusiastic to Chris on the phone, but the truth was, he was dreading the prolonged separation-or at least lack of alone time together-from Chris just as much as Chris was. Soon after he boarded his flight at LAX that night, tucked into a reclined first class seat with a blanket and pillow, he drifted off into pleasant dreams of he and Chris relaxing on the beach together in Ibiza. The honeymoon couldn’t come soon enough.

~~~

Mike found that Friday passed in a blur, just like Chris had insisted it would. He met Chris at LaGuardia and shared a far-too-brief make-out session with sleepy, fumbled hand jobs in one of the airport bathrooMs. They stopped for coffee and grabbed muffins for breakfast at one of the myriad Starbucks in the airport, before picking up the rental car and driving to Litchfield County to the Town of Bantam’s Vital Records office to fill out the paperwork for their marriage license. It was right about then that everything seemed to feel nerve-wrackingly real: there it was, the piece of paper that listed out his and Chris’s history; gave them the permission to marry under the laws of the State of Connecticut. It gave Mike goosebumps.

After that, they drove directly to the bed and breakfast, checking in and dropping their bags in their respective rooms (yeah, Mike was dreading the night alone), and grabbing sandwiches the caterers had prepared for the wedding party. Dave arrived during lunch-they had been really worried he wouldn’t be able to come when Jaime had given birth earlier in the week, but he was here, in Connecticut, and still going forward with his plans for Mike’s and Chris’s bachelor party-looking tired and rumpled, but grinning like a fool. He greeted Chris and Mike both with big bear hugs and enthusiastic slaps on the back.

Then it was hours and hours of rehearsal going through the ceremony and music over and over to make sure they got everything right; meeting the justice of the peace and the rabbi who would be giving a traditional blessing, watching Chris’s sister practice her reading, and making sure everyone knew their places. It was intense and exhausting. Mike had been a groomsman in Jared and Jensen’s wedding, but that had been simple in comparison.

When they finally, finally had it right, and Mike was more or less confident he wouldn’t look like a fool when they were doing the ceremony for real, they had a quick dinner at a nearby café, and then it was off to the club for their bachelor party. Aside from the drive from the airport to the vital records office, Mike hadn’t had more than two minutes alone with Chris all day, and he was eager for it just to be tomorrow already.

~~~

Apparently, even new fatherhood wasn’t enough to deter David from scheduling a bachelor party. It was slightly smaller scale (one party, not two) and held in Connecticut the night before the wedding (they hadn’t planned to have a rehearsal dinner anyway), but it was still an event. Dave rented out one of the few clubs nearby the bed & breakfast. (Mike didn’t even want to guess what that must have cost.) Dave even insisted on hiring strippers-male and female, so there would be “something for everyone”-because no bachelor party was complete without them, and an incomplete bachelor party would be a travesty, or something.

“We should really be having two different parties,” Dave bemoaned, leaning against the long, dark wood bar next to Chris. He took a gulp of the pint of something-Guinness, maybe; it certainly looked dark-he was holding. “You and Mike should each have the opportunity to misbehave on your own. I mean that’s what bachelor’s parties are all about. Celebrating your last bit of freedom,” Dave added as he turned his face to look at Chris.

Chris balanced back, scoffing. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d be inclined to smack you right about now,” Chris gritted out, his voice whiskey-rough. He took a long sip from the glass in his hand, scowling at his friend. “I know you don’t honestly think marriage is about giving up freedom, otherwise Jaime would have kicked you to the curb ages ago.”

“You got me there,” Dave admitted. “I just don’t want the entertainment to go to waste,” he complained.

Chris snorted. “It’s not gonna go to waste,” Chris reassured.

Dave shot him a quizzical look, clearly perplexed, and probably wondering what had gotten into his best friend. He opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment Mike came bounding over, practically vibrating with energy.

Chris was glad his soon-to-be husband was no longer quite the party animal of his youth, but he also appreciated how alive parties made Mike. So he had anticipated (and was looking forward to) the request when it came.

“Can I get a lap dance? You can watch and everything, and isn’t he cute? Said his name’s Rocco, and he’s putting himself through college, so can I, please?” Mike begged, eyes and voice eager and positively bubbly.

Chris chuckled, glancing at Dave as if to say ‘see what I mean?’ before turning back to Mike. “Yes, you can have a lap dance, baby,” he cooed, stepping closer to Mike to bring their lips together in a kiss. “I’m. Looking. Forward. To. Watching,” he said, each word punctuated by a kiss.

Mike reached up and snaked his arm around Chris’s head, pulling them closer together, until their crotches were grinding and their kisses had turned hot and heavy with ample use of teeth and tongue. “Damn, babe, you sure you don’t want to give me a lap dance?” Mike panted against Chris’s lips.

Chris gave a breathless laugh as his fiancé pulled away. “Well of course I’d always like to give you a lap dance, but it’s a special occasion, so why don’t you go Rocco a chance to earn his college tuition.”

“Thank you!” Mike said gleefully, squeezing Chris tightly in a slightly tipsy hug and dancing across the room to a seat in front of the stage where a lithe, toned, bronzed Hispanic twink wearing only a pair of metallic gold spandex hot pants that showed off his perky bubble butt and sizeable package was waiting. Mike cast a thankful glance over his shoulder actually blowing a kiss at Chris, before dropping down into the chair, and spreading his jeans-clad legs.

Chris snorted and shook his head, taking another swig of his Jack Daniels, enjoying the view as Rocco’s flexible, shiny young body started thrusting and flexing and shimmying all over Mike’s lap. It really was a treat to see Mike so playful and carefree, especially after the extra tension, worry, and stress Mike had been carrying around for the last few months. “See what I mean,” he said turning to Dave.

“Damn,” Dave exclaimed, watching as Rocco did a split over Mike’s lap sliding their chests together before arching away in an obscene show of flexibility. “Good entertainment.”

Chris was mesmerized. “I’m thinking I might have to invest in lap dancing lessons,” he admitted as he felt his pants tighten. He shifted trying to alleviate the pressure and (hopefully) hide his erection a little. He smiled again as Mike flung his head back, catching Chris’s eye momentarily, a devious, deliriously happy glint in it, as he mouthed “you too” before flicking his attention back to Rocco, whose shiny, shapely ass was currently bouncing in front of Mike’s face.

“Looks like you’re getting a lap dance before the night is through, if your better half has anything to say about it,” Dave observed, sipping from his pint and leaning closer to Chris.

“Uh huh,” Chris agreed, continuing to feast his eyes. He stole a glance at Dave whose gaze was drifting around the room.

“Damn,” Dave remarked, “looks like Mike’s not the only one enjoying the entertainment.” He gestured towards a chair in front of the other end of the stage.

Chris glanced back at Mike’s gleeful writhing before flicking his eyes in the direction Dave had pointed. “Holy crap,” he agreed.

Allie-who was herself decked out in a skin-tight silver pleather tank top and black hot pants-was currently receiving a lap dance from a tiny Asian girl in a skimpy version of a Catholic school uniform, complete with micro-mini plaid pleated skirt, sleeveless button down shirt tied at a midriff revealing height, matching plaid tie and knee socks… he was pretty sure he’d seen a movie poster with chicks in similar costumes on it around the time he and Mike had gotten together. Damn Allie was really into it. He pulled his eyes away and glanced back at Mike who was still looking completely blessed out.

“Where’s Danneel?” Dave asked, sounding a little worried. Chris figured he was probably still transfixed by Allie and her dancer. He could have looked, but he didn’t want to take his eyes off of his fiancé.

“Danni’s entertaining Tom’s Jamie; didn’t seem fair to leave her all alone with everyone else here,” he explained. He shot another glance sideways at Dave. “I wouldn’t worry, Allie and Danni definitely set ground rules for this… that’s how they operate,” he explained.

“Oh,” said Dave, sounding way too distracted.

“Come on man,” he knocked his shoulder sideways into Chris, “I know you straight guys love the lesbian porn, but that’s my fiancé’s best man you’re perving over, not a Playboy bunny.” He snorted at his choice of words, “Besides, you have your own centerfold at home, you know, mother of your children, who just gave birth to your tiny, new baby daughter…”

“Geez, man, you know I’m not gonna stray from Jaime,” Dave said, sounding a little wounded, but Chris caught his eye and saw nothing but happiness and a hint of amusement. “I’m just looking, and… that’s a lot to look at.” He broke his gaze and caught Chris’s again. “Just seeing a new side of Allie, that’s all.”

Chris nodded and turned back to Mike. His lap dance appeared to be concluding-which was good, because any longer and Chris was pretty sure either he or Mike would have come in their pants. He saw Mike tip Rocco generously, and bound out of his chair to head back towards Chris and Dave’s spot at the bar. Mike’s chair wasn’t empty for long as Jared and Jensen appeared to finish what appeared to be a light-hearted discussion with a coin toss, which Jared won if his contagiously enthusiastic whoop was anything to go by. Jared fell into the chair and was soon receiving Rocco’s attentions.

“Did you see that, they had to toss a coin,” Mike giggled, pointing over his shoulder at Jared and Jensen and falling against Chris, his arousal making Chris suck in an involuntary gasp. “Mmm, I can’t believe we’re sleeping in separate rooms tonight,” Mike groaned.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you yesterday,” Chris whined, as Mike pulled away.

“I’m gonna grab another,” he waived towards the bartender, catching her attention and ordering a Tequila Sunrise.

“And a glass of water, too,” Chris hollered as the bartender walked towards the other end of the bar, relaxing when he saw her nod. “Babe, don’t get too drunk, we have kind of a big day tomorrow,” Chris warned.

“I know, don’t worry,” Mike said, reassuring as he sidled back up to Chris’s side, slipping between Chris and the bar and wrapping his arms around Chris. “This is gonna be my last one.” Mike sounded a lot more sober than he had even moments before, and Chris relaxed a little against him; Chris should have trusted (and expected) Mike to play up his buzz for his enjoyment without actually getting too tipsy.

“Mmm,” Chris said, leaning back into Mike’s arms and placing his hands over Mike’s where they were clasped around his ribs. Mike responded by nuzzling his neck.

“Dave,” Mike boomed, the excitement back in his voice, “Thanks, Man, this is… amazing. You totally didn’t have to and you really out did yourself,” Mike cheered as he gave Mike a friendly slap on his back.

“No problem, I’m just really glad I could be here, and psyched you’re enjoying it,” Dave replied, giving Mike a playful swat back, careful not to hit Chris who was still wrapped up in Mike’s arms.

“Dave was worried the entertainment would go to waste,” Chris said, looking up at Mike.

Mike chuckled. “Nah, it’s much appreciated. Did you see even Tom’s getting some action,” he said gleefully, pointing over at the far end of the stage, where Allie’s lap dance had concluded and Tom was now receiving a lap dance. “The dancers are really, really good,” he added appreciatively, “And Chris, you are totally getting a lap dance before we get out of here tonight,” he leaned in closer, “If I’m gonna get tortured like this,” he thrust his hips forward so Chris could feel Mike’s hard cock pressing into the small of his back, “you are too.”

Chris chuckled, “Oh yeah, well wait till you see what torture it is to watch.”

Dave snorted, “You two lovebirds need me to give you some space?” he asked. He made to step away, taking a long chug of his beer.

“Dave, Dave, no, come back, stay,” Chris whined. “We’re sorry. Mike will be have himself, won’t you Mike?”

“Of course,” Mike said, apologetically, “Sorry, it’s just an awesome bachelor party, and I got a little carried away. I’m so glad you actually made it. When you called and said Jaime had the baby earlier in the week, I was worried you wouldn’t be able to come.”

Dave turned back with a big smile, and shrugged. “Glad you like the party,” he said, genuinely. “Like I said when you guys announced the date, as long as Jaime wasn’t gonna be in labor, during the ceremony, I was going to be here.”

“How is she, how’s the baby, how’s Jaden?” Chris asked eagerly, feeling a little ashamed he hadn’t asked sooner.

“Jaime’s good. The baby, Bardot, she’s great. Really wonderful,” Dave answered, lighting up. “Jaden, he’s just thrilled about being a big brother, and well the timing worked out so we got a couple days at home just us as a family, and we really needed that. Jaime’s mom’s visiting and two of her best friends are staying over, so she’s got plenty of help, and I get to go be your best man, and it all works out.” He chuckled, “I was so in love when I met my daughter, I offered to stay at home and not come, but Jaime insisted… said I’d regret it and be hitting myself if I didn’t come. She was right.” He took another long sip and yawned.

“With the new baby, you must be exhausted,” Chris observed.

Dave nodded.

“I remember how beat you were when Jaden was born. Are you sure you don’t want to just head back to the hotel and catch some rest now?” Chris asked, concerned for his friend.

“Nah,” Dave said with a wave of his hand. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He leaned in towards Chris and Mike, turning towards them so that he could be heard more easily over the thump of the music and the cheers of their friends, “I scheduled my flight late on Sunday, well late afternoon, so I can get plenty of rest here, and still get home in time to go to bed with the family. Jaime’s mom promised to take baby duty on Sunday night so I can get some sleep and Jaime can keep recuperating.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a great plan, Dave, I’m so glad you’re here,” Chris said, freeing one of his hands to give Dave’s arm a squeeze.

“I’m still having trouble believing you two are finally tying the not-I was thinking you’d decided to be perpetually engaged!” Dave exclaimed.

Mike chuckled. “We came to our senses.”

Their chatter continued with Chris eventually slipping away to get his lap dance from Rocco-which was, for the record, probably the best lap dance he’d ever gotten, just knowing Mike was watching had him hard and leaking. Hell, they were both signing up for some lessons when they got back from their honeymoon. Judging by the knowing wink Jensen had shot him when they traded places, at least one of his best friends had the same idea.

After the lap dance, he danced to a few songs with Allie and then Mike on the small dance floor before retreating to a small table with Mike and Dave with a platter of jalapeno poppers and Buffalo wings to watch the drag show that was the night’s main entertainment. Dave had somehow managed to bring in performers from Greenwich Village, so it was a real treat.

Once the show was done, it was 1am, and while still early in party terms, they decided to call it a night because of the long, very long important day tomorrow. Mike and Chris hung back as the rest of their friends began to leave, savoring the extra time together, not wanting to go back to the hotel just yet, where they’d be facing separate beds.

“So,” Dave said, stepping up to the table where Mike and Chris were hiding out, Mike curled up half on Chris’s lap, his taller frame folded so that his head was tucked under Chris’s chin. “Looks like we’re the last ones here.”

“Oh,” Chris said with a sigh, pressing his lips to the top of Mike’s head in a gentle kiss. “Guess we should get going then.”

Mike let out an even bigger sigh, and unfolded himself. “Man, do we have to?” He stretched, pulling himself to his feet, and turning to tug Chris up behind him.

“Wow, so you two really are sleeping in separate rooms tonight,” Dave exclaimed, sounding a little too happy for Chris’s taste.

Chris shot his Dave a disapproving glare.

“Oh, I know it sucks tonight, guys-been there, done that-but trust me when I say you’ll be thanking yourselves tomorrow night. Totally worth it,” Dave explained, tone pleading, but unable to suppress the grin that spread across his face.

“That’s exactly what Jenny said,” Chris replied.

“And Tom,” agreed Mike as they slowly made their way through the club to the door.

Chris stayed as close to Mike as he could, holding is hand as they left the club and stepped out into the cooling night air. He kept holding it the entire ride back to the bed and breakfast, and only let go once they were inside the main building after sharing a long, sensuous, needy kiss (ok, they were necking like horny teenagers, in the foyer of the bed and breakfast at one thirty in the morning; it could have been embarrassing, but under the circumstances, it was an absolute necessity) and it was time to go to their separate rooms-Mike to one of the few guest rooms on the ground floor, tucked away towards the far back corner of the building, and Chris to one of the smaller rooms on the second floor, to the right of the top of the broad, curved stairway that graced the entry.

Chris felt Mike’s absence keenly as he stripped down to his boxers and slipped into bed. Just one more night, and then they would be married. They would be married so soon, and then they would have all their time together-well, all the time they could fit in around filming and promotions, and Chris’s music. As Chris drifted to sleep, alone, in an unfamiliar bed, tomorrow just felt too far away.

~~~

The morning of the wedding dawned clear and bright, a few puffy clouds visible in the distance over the lake. The temperature was pleasant, the breeze smelled like the last vestiges of summer turning into fall, and there were honest-to-god birds chirping. It was perfect. Almost too perfect. Chris kept panicking that it was all going to come crashing down, all fall apart… He had no reason to, but it was all the years of ingrained pessimism and self sabotage rearing their ugly heads. Those kinds of personal demons weren’t the kind you could just beat into submission overnight. They’d gotten better, much better over the course of his and Mike’s relationship, but there were still times-like now-when Chris couldn’t help waiting for the other shoe to drop.

His fears weren’t completely unfounded. Chris hadn’t become this miserably jaded for no good reason. He’d suffered through the rejection of (most of) his family when he came out. He’d discovered college could be an open-minded place, except if you’re queer in Oklahoma, you’re never really safe, even if you are on campus. He’d lost a few jobs and roles early on because people figured out. He lost a few relationships because he was still in the closet and that combined with the stress of being in a relationship with an actor/musician was just too much. He’d suffered the heartbreak of falling in love with his absolutely straight best friend. He’d seen his other best friend live through a horribly emotionally abusive relationship that ended in blackmail, and then experienced the horror of finding out that same best friend and his new boyfriend had been the victims of a brutal bashing. And then there was the fallout of that relationship, and Jensen’s suicide attempt, and the-oh god no, soul-crushing, please don’t die on me, it’s all my fault-terror of holding Jensen dying-dead-in his arms (and knowing he was partly to blame-enabling, not seeing)…

But life wasn’t all bad.  Jensen had (mostly) recovered and met (and eventually married) Jared and that had led to Chris meeting Mike and starting them on the path that brought them here today. But even those good times had been tempered by more bad. Nearly losing Jensen again-first to the stunt Joanna pulled and then to a fucking massive kidney infection and its complications, which had combined with the damage done by Jensen’s suicide attempt to quite nearly kill him again…

Through it all Chris had been the strong one.  The one there for everyone, bullying doctors, dealing with distraught friends and exes and lovers and somehow he’d gotten it into his head that there just were no happy endings for him. Nothing good could last… and yet, here he was, and it was the morning of his wedding day-a real wedding that would be recognized by several states and foreign countries-and he was terrified that the universe was waiting to surprise him with a miserable punch line.

There was a sharp, assertive knock on the door followed by the faint squeak of its hinges as it swung open. Chris turned to see Jensen slipping into the room and closing it behind him.

“How’re you doing? Ready to get some breakfast?” Jensen asked, hopefully.

Chris said nothing, but absentmindedly moved his hand to his stomach which was suddenly rumbling… with hunger or nausea he wasn’t entirely sure.

Jensen’s expression soured, making him look a little pinched and all-too knowing. “Shit, I was hoping you were holding up better than that, but surprise, weddings will make you sick with nerves,” he chuckled ruefully as he crossed the room to wrap Chris into a reassuring hug.

Chris was still too lost in thought-and surprised by Jensen’s appearance, although, he really shouldn’t have been; it was after nine, and they’d made plans to meet for breakfast and spend the day getting ready-to respond.

“Seriously, come get breakfast with me. You made me eat when Jay and I tied the knot, and I can never thank you enough. It really does help,” Jensen said gently.

Chris looked up to meet Jensen’s gaze, “You puked three times on your wedding day. I was terrified I was gonna have to drive you to the ER because the puking fucked up your meds,” Chris said deadpan, half in disbelief.

Jensen’s mouth quirked up in a wry smile. “Yeah, but then you figured out what to feed me that would keep the nerves at bay, and I have the benefit of that knowledge, so I can almost guarantee you that eating will make you feel better, not worse.” He tugged gently on Chris’s hand. “Come on, pull on some sweats and you can enjoy a delicious breakfast of plain oatmeal, toast, and orange juice with me.”

Chris stood sock still for another moment, letting Jensen’s words sink in, before his body seemed to spring into action of its own accord, without letting him in on what it was doing. His body had been doing that a lot recently; as the wedding date loomed, it seemed he just reacted on autopilot while his brain hurried to catch up. “All right,” he said, tripping over his now-empty suitcase on his way over to the dresser. It probably hadn’t made sense to unpack since he was only staying in this room the one night-after all, tonight he and Mike would be sharing the honeymoon suite-but Chris’s primary stress reaction was to clean, and so he’d spent the evening frantically unpacking, placing everything in the drawers, in the closet, in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom… until he finally passed out on the bed, unfortunately, before he’d properly stowed the suitcase, hence his tripping over it now.  Clutching a pair of grey sweat pants and an old, ratty OU Alumni tee, he glanced at the bathroom and its inviting shower and back at Jensen. “Should I shower?”

“No,” Jensen turned and shook his head, wincing a little with the motion, “you’re gonna wanna shower before you get into your tux later. So, just come eat and worry about getting clean later.”

Chris stayed frozen, clothes still clutched in his hands, drawer half-open, and stared at Jensen, concern flooding his features. “Dude, are your ribs hurting you?” he said with a nod towards Jensen’s right side. He’d seen Jensen wince, he knew it! What could be wrong, though? A possibility dawned on him. “Crap! Is it gonna rain? Shit! Why’d we go with the outdoor ceremony-” he started babbling not waiting for Jensen to respond.

“What?” Jensen asked confused. “I don’t know, the weather report says it’s sunny all day, why? Did you hear something different?”

“No,” Chris shook his head, “But you just grabbed your ribs,” he said, pointing again, t-shirt in hand.

“Oh,” Jensen responded, still looking a little confused. Then he flushed, “Don’t worry, it’s not my ribs; it’s not going to rain. Your wedding will be fine, just calm down, get dressed, and we can go eat.” Jensen seemed a little impatient.

If not rain, then what? Chris thought, as he stripped off the now-rank t-shirt he’d slept in and began clumsily pulling on the clean shirt and sweats (he had no coordination whatsoever before his morning coffee). Surely, this was the portent of doom, the beginning of the other shoe dropping that was going to ruin his hope for happiness and a nice, peaceful wedding. He tried to school his thoughts and derail his mind from the bleak track it had chosen, but as he was in the midst of tripping over the cuffs of his sweats, a more dire, sickening thought struck him. “Oh god, you… you’re not sick are you? Is it a kidney problem? Or your liver? Have you been taking your meds-”

“Geez, no, Chris! I mean, no I’m not sick; yes I’ve been taking my meds. I’m fine,” Jensen responded hastily. Chris must not have looked convinced, because Jensen’s face flushed more and as he added, “If you must know, uh… Jay and I went at it a little hard trying some new positions with the uh… canopy bed in the room here and-please don’t make me give you all the sordid details of my sex life?” Jensen begged, his eyes going big and round, reminiscent of a sheepish, puss-in-boots impression as he ducked his head.

Chris stuttered, the implication of Jensen’s words sinking in, and his fingers slipped off the waistband of his sweats, leading them to slap, painfully, against his ass. “Oh my god, TMI, Jenny! Are you saying you pulled a muscle?” he asked, incredulous.

“Actually, yes, literally,” Jensen agreed with a too-enthusiastic nod, leading to him rubbing his hand against his ribcage in what was now obviously an attempt to soothe a knotted muscle.

Chris burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it; he felt rather like an idiot because, ok, the thought of Jensen being hurt or sick wasn’t funny, and Jensen’s sex life wasn’t funny, but the realization his latest fears were unfounded-was like floodgates opening. All the tension he’d been carrying inside seemed to pour out and wash away with each peal of laughter. “I’m sorry,” he managed at last, tugging his tee over his head and running his fingers through his tangled hair. “So, you saying my wedding day is actually gonna go off without a hitch? Uh, other than me and Mike getting hitched?” He snickered at his own joke.

“Well, I can’t guarantee it, but, hell yeah. You deserve it,” Jensen said, stepping up to Chris and enveloping him in a hug. “I’m so happy for you,” he whispered in Chris’s ear.

Chris hugged back, grinning like an idiot. “Thanks,” he murmured, still a little dumbstruck with his good fortune. Being away from Mike, even overnight, was making him a little crazy.

Jensen pulled back, eyes roving over Chris in hasty assessment. “Let’s go get you some coffee with that breakfast too,” he suggested, giving Chris one more squeeze before letting go and heading to the door.

“Great idea,” Chris agreed.

So, it was with newfound-if cautiously guarded-optimism that Chris joined Jensen for breakfast in the bed and breakfast’s dining room. Maybe, just maybe, Chris was getting a happy ending after all.

Master Post | Chapter 6 | Chapter 8