Chapter Text
When Ren stood in front of his mother’s freshly dug grave at ten years old, he was sure it was the worst day of his life. When he’d been informed of his father’s similar passing and handed the responsibilities of ruling an entire kingdom in the same breath, he couldn’t imagine anything could top it. Today, when he’d watched the only man he’d ever loved get married to someone else, he knew for certain that it couldn’t get worse than this.
If his life had been in any way just, he would be allowed to drink himself delirious until a responsible friend apologized for his recklessness and dragged him to bed to sleep off his regret… But Ren was the king, so he was barred from any and all disorderly conduct with or without excessive alcohol involved, and he had no real friends. Well, he had one, but it was his wedding day.
Meanwhile, Martyn was walking on air. He didn’t even want to be reminded of how Tango had looked walking down the aisle, lest he start crying again. As the right hand of the king, the wedding had been expectedly extravagant, but in his eyes it could not compare to the love he felt in his heart for his now husband. His love was pleased, and that was what mattered most to him.
While the guests were up and about enjoying drinks before the reception dinner, Martyn left his husband to be smothered with affection by his family—well, technically their family, now.
The blonde weaved his way through the crowd, finding the big head of brunette curls. “Ren,” Martyn smiled, maneuvering himself to be in the man’s view, “I’m so glad you made it. It’s been beyond hectic, but it looks like we can chat for a bit.”
Ren used to associate Martyn’s voice with all good things, a smile coming to his face every time he heard the sound. Lately, however, he couldn’t seem to avoid feeling a little sick at the sound, like someone had taken the sweetness of his voice and dumped in extra sugar until the taste left nausea in the back of Ren’s throat.
He made himself smile anyway. “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it. I’ll—“ I’ll always make time for you. He cleared his throat and carried on without pause. “I can take time off any day I please, and this was,” He gestured lightly with one hand. “Important.”
Martyn smiled, “I’m glad you think so, I’d be pretty cross if you chose paperwork over my wedding day.” He said teasingly, giving Ren’s arm a light push. “I’d have Tango saying hello to you by now, but he’s got a million people to chat with before he can make his escape.” The Pomeranian turned to look for his husband, spotting him across the room trying to thank about four people at once. His eyes crinkled at the sight.
Paperwork sounded much better than this. If Ren was a stronger man, he would have come up with an excuse or just avoided the whole thing and made one up after the fact when Martyn got upset at him for not being there. A stronger man would have taken the pouting rather than putting himself in this position just because he couldn’t bear to refuse Martyn anything in his power. A better man would just be happy for him.
He followed the Pomeranian’s gaze, ignoring the clench in his chest at the sight of Tango, every bit as joyous as his.. His husband. Ren felt sick.
“Your drink, your majesty.” His attention was pulled away by a man with a drink in his hand, fetched at Ren’s own request. He made sure to thank him as he took it, only turning back to Martyn after taking a much needed sip.
“That’s alright, he doesn’t need to say hello.” It was a wonder his voice held steady. “Tonight isn’t about me. For once.” But oh, for once yet again, how he wished it was… To see Martyn standing there, looking at him like that… He took another sip, far sooner than he would have liked for maintaining the casual attitude he was going for.
Martyn laughed, “I think you ought to meet my husband eventually!” He paused to settle his laughter, “And it’s just nice to talk to you, I know you’ll get along great. If you like me, you’ll love him.” He promised, clueless to Ren’s internal turmoil. “Oh—here he comes!” His smile was bright, ears perking up and tail wagging a mile a minute.
Great.
“Martyn!” Tango called out with a wide wave, like he had to make sure the Pomeranian knew he was coming. He was lucky enough that people moved out of his way and he was able to slip himself against his new husband’s side. His fingers found their way to his forearm like he was allergic to not making contact with him, and his own much longer tail swished back and forth.
Ren silently begged for Tango to find a reason to pull Martyn away, the throbbing ache in his chest only worsening in his presence. What did he have that Ren didn’t?
“Oh! And your majesty..” Tango added with a nervous chuckle upon noticing who Martyn was with. He managed a quick bow in his holding-on position that made Ren wince slightly.
Martyn was happy to have Tango by his side, a fact made apparent by his relaxed posture. “Ren, this is my husband, Tango. My love, this is Ren. Also my boss, but right now,” He gave the werewolf a sweet smile, “My best friend.”
Martyn’s hand came up and rested atop Tango’s hand, his thumb automatically running back and forth along the blaze’s fingers.
Ren followed the movements of Martyn’s hand like a dog followed a fist with a treat hidden inside. Despite the blazeborn’s species, the king felt like he was the one burning at the sight.
‘My best friend,’ Martyn had said that phrase again. How hadn’t he seen it before? Ren was such a fool, he shouldn’t have come, he shouldn’t have deluded himself like this, he shouldn’t have made Martyn his Hand at all—
“It’s really, uh, nice to meet you! Er, obviously, cause you’re the king, duh, but also because you’re Martyn’s best friend! Ha.” Tango was a flustered mess, the excitement of the night and meeting the actual king all at once catching up with him. It was like he relaxed the Pom by sucking up all the excess energy between them, leaving him scatter-brained and chatty while Martyn looked calm by comparison.
Ren wanted to cry when he realized he actually found it endearing. “Just his friend, tonight.” That was the easiest lie he’d told all night, Ren couldn’t have a single night where he wasn’t the king of the realm. “It’s an honor to meet you, Tango.” His jaw was already aching from clenching it to keep himself from biting his tongue.
“Oh goodness,” Martyn laughed, Tango’s sputtering was so cute, “Ren, you should’ve seen Tango whenever I mentioned having you two meet. His flame would get all big, face all red,” The Pomeranian teased his husband. “Couldn’t put it off forever, my darling.”
Tango squawked like he was offended, proving Martyn’s point perfectly by visibly heating up. “WHA! No—no it wouldn’t, I didn’t, y-you!” Realizing he had no real defense, he opted to start poking Martyn in the belly instead. He couldn’t keep the smile from returning to his face, so there was no mistaking his attitude for malice. “I could’ve! You just wouldn’t let me!”
Ren wished he had, really. Watching the two of them interact, the physical contact they shared so easily when Ren was lucky to even brush his arm against someone other than Martyn once a month at best, it was torture. He genuinely couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt skin to skin contact, even his playful gestures were reserved to be through his clothing. He said nothing, as he could think of nothing to say to them while they engaged in such a domestic spat.
Martyn let out a wheeze, it was so easy for him to do so around Tango. He grabbed Tango’s jabbing hand, “Of course not! You can’t go your whole life married to the Hand of the King and not meet the King!” The Pomeranian brought Tango’s hand up and left a soft kiss on the back of it, “But more importantly, you can’t be married to me and not meet Ren. He probably knows me better than I know myself, hm?” The blonde looked back to the werewolf, an eyebrow raised playfully.
Obviously not, Ren thought bitterly. He hadn’t caught on to the fact that Martyn was in a relationship, nor that the man was unmistakably not interested and never would be. If he was so blind to all of that, he couldn’t say he knew Martyn at all. Not for the first time today, Ren felt the pang of regret at the sound of him using his name. It had felt so special to hear it from him once upon a time, like a step toward something more. He’d been too smitten to realize that something was apparently ‘best friends.’
He nodded anyway, grateful that his smile hadn’t slipped. “I can only hope so.” Ren offered, earning a laugh from Tango that felt sharper than a dagger in his side.
“He’s got to know something—you’re almost aaaalways working, it’s a wonder you two didn’t fall in love instead!” Tango joked, wrapping his tail loosely around Martyn’s leg.
Ren’s heart seemed to stop in his chest, forcing him to take another drink before they could catch the empty smile falling from his face.
Martyn snickered at that, shaking his head, “Oh, you wouldn’t be the first to say that. Remember Scott?” He looked to Ren, before back to Tango, “Remember when I told you about Scott? Ohhh, he was just about crawling up my back over my ‘attitude’ around the king. Thought the worst, but Ren and I just never really saw each other in a romantic light.” Martyn waved it off casually, speaking on Ren’s behalf.
“And you’re just complaining because you wake up when I’m leaving for work.” The Pomeranian huffed. It wasn’t Martyn’s fault Tango liked to tangle himself up in the sheets, wrapped around Martyn like a koala. There was only so much the blonde could do to try and unweave himself from Tango, and he’d long since learned that the blaze and four in the morning do not mix well.
Never.
Never.
The newlywed couple kept talking to one another while Ren reached blindly behind himself for something to hold onto or lean against, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. He was lucky enough that he’d chosen to wander to an empty table. He hoped Tango’s words were enough to distract from the wetness he was suddenly blinking out of his eyes.
“Hey, you get up crazy early! Your hours make no sense, who needs to get up that early?! The kingdom won’t go to ruin if you let me snuggle for five more minutes.” Tango huffed back like this was a familiar conversation.
Martyn rolled his eyes affectionately, “There’s a lot in that castle that needs doing, Tango. You never know, maybe the kingdom would go to ruin—You alright, Ren?” Martyn was quick to switch the conversation as soon as he saw the state of the king, worried about his friend. Of course the Pomeranian was the one to notice, he could notice the smallest things about Ren.
Please, please stop calling him that. Ren wanted to cry, beg, plead, shout, but instead he just nodded silently. He feared what his voice would sound like if he tried to speak in that moment, but he had to come up with something. “I just… Stubbed my tail on the table.” He lied, hoping the idea of such physical pain could compensate for both the symptoms of his emotional pain and his hesitation to speak. It wasn’t his best excuse, but it had to be enough.
Martyn winced, “Ouch… Take a seat if you need to,” He said, reminding the man he can sit down, he doesn’t have to stand to chat. “Not to sound like a suck-up, but do you need anything?” The Pomeranian played around with a tilt of his head, hoping to ease some of the discomfort Ren must be feeling.
Ren shook his head, grateful for the excuse to sit rather than continue to struggle to remain upright. The last thing he needed was for the blonde to pay more attention to him. “I’m fine, I’ll be fine.” He assured, managing to slip himself into a seat with hands that only slightly shook.
Tango winced as well in sympathy, his own tail tightening around Martyn’s leg as he thought of what it would feel like to smash it up against a table. Not good. He snickered at Martyn’s choice of words, though. Evidently, his own drinks were beginning to be felt. “Suck-up, huh?”
Martyn blinked, before smirking, “You’re really going to try that joke in front of the King? What a way to give Ren an insight on my personal life,” He teased, bumping his hip with Tango’s. Martyn was surprisingly physically affectionate, always having one hand touching Tango, or just leaning closer to the blaze no matter what. That was something he never did with Ren, Martyn was always standing straight when beside him.
Ren found thoughts he’d banished long ago working their way into his mind again, a dark longing he’d never voiced to anyone. He wished the sickness that had taken his father had taken him too, at least to spare him this.
Tango was clearly a big fan of the contact, carrying the attitude of an affectionate albeit at times ornery cat. “Hey, I didn’t say anything! I just said what you said!” He raised his hands defensively. “I-I would never say something like whatever you’re implying around his majesty!”
Martyn rolled his eyes, his hand automatically moving to wrap around Tango and hold him closer by the waist, “Uh huh. Sure, my love. Sure.” He teased, squeezing the blaze’s side. “This man, amiright?” Martyn chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at Ren. “Love him to bits, though. Well, you’d sure hope so with y’know, a whole wedding!” The blonde laughed as he gestured to the whole venue.
Tango bumped his head against Martyn, doing nothing to dispel the cat allegations.
Ren’s chest clenched painfully, but he pushed a small laugh out anyway. It was easier for him than most because he had so much practice, luckily. “Haha, yes, one would hope you’d love the one you marry.” He didn’t know why he was punishing himself like this, knowing now that he would not when it was his turn. A voice in the back of his head helpfully supplied that he deserved it.
Martyn laughed, “And we’ll find the one for you, Ren.” The Pomeranian winked, recalling their conversations about how he’d rather marry for love than political gain. “It’ll be grand, I’m sure of it. Maybe when your special day comes, I’ll get to see you drunk.” The blonde joked. In all of the years they’d known each other, Martyn had never seen Ren truly intoxicated.
Smiling hurt, everything hurt. Ren was foolish to think he could ever have anything like this, the love and happiness shared between these two wasn’t made to be experienced by people like Ren. He had fancy clothes, lavish events, and excessive feasts, the price he paid for these luxuries was a lifetime of feeling alone.
He should have listened to Scott, and married the first prince or princess he could stand. He’d once confided in Martyn that he wished to marry for love, and that was why he kept turning them down. What he really meant was that he didn’t want a political marriage, he wanted to marry Martyn.
It was harder this time to keep his laugh from sounding bitter. “Alas, even on his wedding day, the king must hold himself together.” He doubted Martyn would enjoy seeing him drown his sorrow in drink anyway, and there would be no real celebration involved on Ren’s end.
He minutely noted that Tango made a face at the notion.
“Whaat? You’re telling me you won’t even get a little tipsy with your best friend on your wedding day?” Martyn raised an eyebrow, teasing Ren a bit, “Does that mean you won’t try at my wedding? Consider it my wedding gift.” Of course, Martyn wasn’t actually pressuring Ren to do so, but it would be hilarious to see his king drunk.
“Trust me, I’d love nothing more.” Ren laughed again, this time with truth in it. It must be nice to have that freedom, he hadn’t had free reign on alcohol without it being literally taken from him or receiving a warning glare since he was a teenager, barely old enough to be allowed to touch the stuff to begin with. He couldn’t get drunk here, he couldn’t risk ruining the party with an outburst. Besides... He still had to give a speech, didn’t he? “But I couldn’t let the scandal of the king acting sottish overshadow your big day.”
“Well, Tango does appreciate some good bits of chaos, and I don’t think either of us mind a musical number from the king himself,” Martyn wheezed, the thought of Ren standing on a table singing his heart out getting to him. Some part of Martyn wished they weren’t in this kind of world, he’d love to see Ren with his walls down much more often. “Quick, darling, get the king a few drinks and we’ll see if his speech becomes a carol.” The blonde hushed, squeezing Tango closer so he knew Martyn didn’t actually mean to go fetch a drink for Ren.
Tango’s resulting cackle was loud and free, and Ren couldn’t help but think he’d like to laugh like that too if he could hold Martyn’s arm in such a way. “Free music, I’ll take it!”
Ren flushed despite himself. He didn’t know how much Tango knew, but Martyn knew firsthand that he could actually sing rather well. He sang sometimes as a prince, and a few times in carriage rides with Martyn. He could remember the first time clear as day, most clearly the way they had laughed together about how silly it sounded when the bumps in the road broke his notes. Usually, he would make a flirty joke with Martyn about how he was sure he’d like that, but he swallowed it down. “Haha, very funny.” He rolled his eyes instead, masking his embarrassment with feigned irritation.
Martyn’s laugh was cut by a little snort before he waved his hand and shook his head, “Oh, as funny as I joke, Ren does have a beautiful singing voice. It’s powerful and stentorian, and it’s got a low hum to some notes. Can be sweet like honey or wonderfully haunting if he wants it to be. Similar to a viola or cello, possibly a harp I’d say?” Martyn recalled with a broad grin. He’d always take his chances to praise his king, adding to the endless tallies of when he’s done so before. “Ren, you have got to grant Tango the chance to hear it one day, please!”
That was a hard no, not that Ren dared turn Martyn down so harshly. He resented how red the praise made him, some sick part of him immediately longing to sing for the Pomeranian once more, anything for his attention.
“What?! That’s amazing, I’ve gotta hear this!” Tango drank in every word, just as enthusiastic as his husband about the matter.
“Oh, I..” It hurt to turn him down, actually. “I don’t really sing anymore, no time to practice. I couldn’t possibly embarrass myself in front of both of you.” Ren offered an apologetic smile.
“Oh, he’s just saying that because he’s shy,” Martyn waved him off easy, “You used to tell me that every trip, but then you sing anyways and I swear there were angels flying down from the sky!” He poked at Ren’s shoulder. “You can’t use excuses with me, I taught you how to do that.”
He hung back once more. “Give yourself more credit, Ren. You’ve got a wonderful voice, I love that about you.”
Ren took a much bigger drink from his glass than he had before, the burn down his throat a welcome distraction from the sting in his eyes. Martyn was right, he was just making excuses. The truth was he sang for Martyn because he loved seeing that sparkle in his eyes afterward, that unmistakable awe that made his own heart flutter. It would surely kill him to sing for him again, only to see Martyn watching someone else for their reaction.
“You’re definitely overselling it, don’t give him ideas.” He replied once it went down, voice steadied by the smooth drink.
“I think you’re doing this to me because I spilled ink on you that one time,” Martyn chuckled halfway through his sentence, knowing that wasn’t the reason. “You let me keep my job, but now you’re getting back at me for it. On my wedding day, as well!” Martyn pressed his forehead to Tango’s shoulder, leaning on him.
“I know, I know, aren’t I just the worst?” Ren quipped in a tone that said he was joking, though it hardly felt like one inside. He was the worst, wasn’t he?
Tango instinctively leaned back toward Martyn to balance out the weight, and Ren’s eye twitched slightly.
Martyn sighed, using his hand to fan his face from how flushed his joy had left him. “Well, food should be ready any time now, I can’t wait to hear your speech,” Martyn smiled, before raising a brow, “Hopefully you don’t plan on telling stories that Tango will never let me live down.”
Ren shook his head, knowing he could never do such a thing as humiliate Martyn. “No, not with all of the dirt you have on me.” He joked, trying to shield his dread with humor.
“Awww, not even one?” Tango huffed, overacting his disappointment on purpose.
Martyn cackled, shaking his head, “You’re right about that!” He looked to the blaze and booped his nose with his finger, “And you, you don’t need any more material to poke fun. You still tell people I tripped on a rock the first time we went out!” The Pomeranian had no anger about it in his voice, always playful with anyone he was close with.
“Well, I mean… You did, didn’t you?” Tango shrugged with his free side, already back to grinning.
Ren watched them interact with a sick sensation in his stomach, thinking back to the many interactions he’d had with Martyn himself. How many times had they conversed so easily, just seemed to connect, and from there he assumed it was just a matter of time? That those moments were special?
“Don’t see how that's relevant,” Martyn waved a hand about, “You know, thinking about it, maybe you tripped me over, because in the last…” Martyn glanced at Ren for a moment, “Seven? Eight? Give or take—years I’ve been alongside Ren, I’ve never tripped over.”
Tango, for his part, gasped dramatically. “Whaaat? I would never!” He definitely would. He didn’t that time, but he would nonetheless. “Look at this guy, making accusations at me! Is this any way to treat your husband? Hm?” He raised an eyebrow at him, hands finding their way into a crossed position.
Martyn smiled as he slipped his arms around the blaze, pulling him close, “Mmm… Too late, you already signed the papers, walked the aisle and gave me a big ‘ol smooch at the altar. You’re stuck with me, now.” He teased, leaning forward to give Tango a sweet kiss.
Tango may have built up a retort to that if not for the lips quickly stealing his own and taking the words from his mouth. “Ehh, I think I can live with that.”
The kiss was too much for Ren. The king opted instead to look out at the fellow guests in celebration of what should have been a wonderful day for everyone, the guilt eating him alive. He was Martyn’s most treasured friend, he would be giving a speech for him soon, and yet he couldn’t be bothered to feel happy for him.
Martyn rolled his eyes affectionately at Tango, a big smile on his face as his hands squeezed the blaze’s body. He pulled away, only to lean over and give Ren’s shoulder a pat, “Everyone’s taking their seats, let’s go take ours.” Since Ren was such a close friend to Martyn, he was part of the wedding party. The Pomeranian just couldn’t imagine having Ren just randomly placed in the middle of the wedding.
The weight of Martyn’s touch seemed to burn through Ren’s clothes, a phantom sensation that lingered even after he left, and yet was never enough to begin with. Just once, Ren would like to feel more than the briefest of touches granted only through the barrier multiple clothing layers offered. By anyone, really, because void forbid someone actually touch the king. He was long used to ignoring the sensation.
“Right, best not keep everyone waiting.” Ren agreed, rising to his feet to join them at the head table. It wasn’t hard to find, this table was the only one with a singular chair at one end; not for either groom, but for Ren.
Martyn smiled wide as he guided Tango to their seats, the people in the wedding party congratulating them once again as they passed by. It was so natural for the two grooms to joke and laugh together, taking their seats and starting up many conversations as people got settled.
Martyn looked down the table at Ren, giving him a sweet smile and maybe even a bit of pity they couldn’t sit side-by-side like they did when visiting other kingdoms.
Ren made sure to return the smile when their eyes met, though it was a bit of a miracle he caught it at all with how lost in thought he’d become. Without Martyn’s conversation to hold his attention, time seemed to blur. He couldn’t say for certain when his food had been placed in front of him, let alone when he’d started eating it. Each time he blinked, some stretch of time had passed, either seconds or minutes. A glance around confirmed he hadn’t earned any odd looks, so at least he was acting normal enough.
Martyn was happily chatting away with everyone at the table, every now and then reaching down to squeeze Tango’s thigh. The food was fantastic and it seemed Tango’s best man, Skizz, was just drunk enough to start the wave of speeches prepared.
He stood and gained everyone’s attention, and of course his speech was filled with praises about Tango, about how Martyn was a good man and how the couple was a perfect fit. “What a great couple, seriously, I can’t think of a better man to be with Tango. Martyn is a good man— a loyal man, and I know he’ll be the one Tango deserves. I hold Top dear to my heart, he’s one of my best friends—and it brings me all the joy in the world to know his husband is a good one.” Jokes were thrown around, interspersed throughout the affectate words, and the crowd ate it up.
Speeches were nothing new to Ren—the furthest thing from it, in fact. He’d given them, written them, and heard them—and he’d never dreaded one as much as he did now.
The words spoken made his blood prickle, an automatic urge to defend himself rising in the back of his throat until he had to take a drink to swallow it down. There were better—no, more fitting men out there for Tango, there had to be, because Martyn was supposed to be with him! The thought came with another nauseating wave of guilt. Martyn was not a prize to be won or something he ‘deserved,’ he was his own man and Ren should be happy that he was joining the family of someone with such loving friends.
When he could pull his head from the pit of guilt long enough to do so, he found himself impressed by the one given by this friend of Tango’s, his charisma managed to pull every face in the room into a smile, his own included. Something about his energy inspired both warmth and joy in a way Ren had seen very few people do. He was incredibly relieved when he was not expected to follow it, a family member of Tango’s stepping in to offer the next.
Ren’s assumption that this person was Tango’s father was soon confirmed when he dove into a story about the blaze’s childhood that resulted in the man in question flushing red in the face. He wondered if the two had practiced this or if Tango’s loved ones were all this fun-loving and bright, considering how well the first two speeches blended into one another.
Of course, Martyn found a great deal of entertainment in hearing about Tango’s childhood, laughing along while also rubbing comforting circles to his husband’s back. It was all on a whim, the way Tango’s loved ones bounced jokes and comments between each other, managing to stay on topic while also making nearly all in attendance laugh until tears were in their eyes.
When they’d finally finished, it was Martyn’s mother’s turn. She stood up so kindly, seeming even a little shy to be watched by so many eyes. “I’m Martyn’s mother, if you weren’t aware.” She started off, looking at her son before his smile encouraged her to continue. “I’ve never felt so proud to have Martyn as my son, and now Tango as my son-in-law. Martyn is full of surprises, isn’t he? I nearly fainted when he came home to tell me he’d become the Right Hand of the King,” She smiled, turning her head to look at Ren. “We’ve never spoken before and I apologize for that. I know how much you mean to Martyn and what a great support you’ve been in his life, and I’d like to thank you for that. You’ve given him the chance and the room to grow, to really express himself and I, as his mother, have to express my gratitude to the man who’s been his rock from the very beginning.”
Then she turned to look at Tango, “And you, one of the sweetest people I’ve met. It’s strange, I’ve had a few people come to me with concerns about blazeborns, and I’d have to say… I have no clue where people got the impression from.” She assured with a soft tilt of her head before speaking to the crowd. “When Martyn brought Tango to meet me for the first time, he brought me flowers, respected my home and even helped me cook dinner. Tango has this beautiful nature to him, one that… That ignites so much love, it really is delightful to even talk to him.” Martyn’s mother turned back to Tango, speaking to him directly with a hand over her chest, “You and your family are just so full of energy, you’ve supported my small family and all of you were willing to drop everything when we needed help. Though it’s been some years since I’ve had that Pom spark, Martyn most definitely still has it, and I’d say you were the perfect match for my son’s personality. You both click so well and I’m sure everyone in this room agrees, I really do believe you both were meant to be.”
She began tearing up, and it was clear she was getting emotional through the slight cracks in her voice, “I’ve raised Martyn on my own. He’s my only son and family we have, they live much farther away. After so many years, to gain so much support and love from Tango’s family, Martyn’s loved ones—it’s overwhelming, in the best way possible. I’m so, extremely proud of my son and Martyn’s father would be just as proud as well. I can’t imagine anyone more perfect to be married to him, and I wish the couple eternal love, laughter and a lifetime of happiness.”
The emotional whiplash of her speech nearly sent Ren spiraling. It was flattering to hear himself referred to as Martyn’s rock, but the confidence that built was all too soon shattered. Surely he couldn’t be the only one who didn’t see the pair as meant to be… Looking around the room, he saw that indeed, everyone in the room seemed to carry a genuine, agreeing smile. Everyone but him.
That deep, hurt part of him that felt so very small wanted to shout at all of them. If she could understand that Ren had been there for Martyn for so long, why wasn’t he the one for him? It was childish, pathetic how terribly he wanted to both yell until his voice went hoarse and run away. Of course, he did nothing of the sort, he only smiled along while his heart writhed in his chest like a dying snake.
When she sat back down, Martyn gave her a comforting, affectionate hug. She was still teary eyed, sharing a few private words with him and leaning over to do the same with Tango.
Skizz sniffled loudly, “Way to bring on the waterworks! Wow, this is just a rollercoaster of emotions, huh?” He laughed, wiping his eyes before smiling so brightly at Ren. “I believe you’ve got a speech in order?” He asked in a hushed voice. “No pressure, I know ours were a lot to take in. Now is the best time, but if you want to do it after their first dance, that works too.” He advised. Normally, he would’ve treated Ren with much more formality, but it was Martyn’s special request that they all didn’t make a big deal out of things and stress Ren out.
Ren’s ears flicked as he fought the urge to pin them back, anxiety washing over him in thick, choking waves. If he’d known about Martyn’s special request, he may not have been able to keep in a bitter laugh. He could do this, he had made a few notes of what he wanted to say. Even so, he took a swift drink of liquid courage for himself.
“No need, I can do it now.” He assured, taking his dreading breath as he rose to his feet to make it less obvious. He’d given bigger speeches to more people before, speeches that affected entire livelihoods. This was no worse, no different. He had to tell himself that, but those never hurt this much.
His presence naturally drew attention toward him, he didn’t even have to clear his throat. Ren would have liked to believe it was because he was at the end of the table, or perhaps due to his height, but in truth it seemed that his kingly status perpetually draped him in some kind of curtain of awe that everyone around him could see, but he could not. When Martyn met his eye, he knew it was time to begin.
“I can’t say I know Tango as this is the first time we’ve met, but I can say that for the past eight years, I’ve had the honor of working with Martyn.” He couldn’t say he’s known Martyn because if tonight proved anything, it was that Ren really didn’t know him, did he? He was every bit as out of touch as he’d always feared he would become.
“In that time, I’ve come to experience firsthand what a magnificent man he is. I’d be hard pressed to find another as loyal, as devoted, or as driven in everything he does.” A soft laugh bubbled in the back of his throat. “I’ve never met a man who can put power behind his breed quite the way he does. I swear, sometimes it feels like he’s my guard dog, and I couldn’t be more grateful for it. Martyn is a man whose trust you can’t help but want to earn, and one who will never fail you.”
Everyone’s eyes were on Ren. Martyn felt the corners of his eyes begin to crinkle with joy when he began, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the sweet words that followed. He shook his head affectionately as his mother gave him a playful sort of nudge—it was a blessing to be complimented by the king.
Skizz nodded along, agreeing with what Ren was putting out. Of course, Ren got a good wave of laughter at the guard dog joke, Martyn really had that… Snappy nature to him.
“I couldn’t have made a better choice in a right hand man, he embodies his role in every way. I wouldn’t entrust just anyone as my closest advisor, confidant, and-and best friend.” Ren’s only friend, and yet so much more. He recovered from his stutter quickly. For just a moment, his eyes met Martyn’s again. “Truly, I don’t know where I’d be without him.” He tore his gaze away.
“All of this is to say, Martyn is without a doubt one of the finest men I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.” The word bit at his mind like a sick rat tearing at him, spitting loathing to drip down his temples and taint his heart. “And if Tango is the one he loves,” Ren forced himself to look toward the man in question with eyes that felt heavier than stone. “Then he must truly be something special, too.”
Martyn’s grin was a mile wide. He put one hand to his chest before holding it out towards Ren, a silly gesture that made the majority of the audience chuckle.
Skizz started a wave of glass clinking, gentle against the thin cups but still significant enough. He gave Ren a thumbs up as the king sat himself bad down, impressed with the speech.
“Beautiful speeches, beautiful speeches, had me nearly crying in front of my new husband.” Martyn joked, closer to Tango now with an arm wrapped around the blaze’s waist. “I appreciate everyone that attended, it means so much to Tango and I for us to celebrate with you all.” He grabbed his glass and held it up, waiting for people to do the same. “Now, let’s get drunk and embarrass ourselves tonight!” Raucous cheers filled the room in reply.
Not that he would voice such to anyone, but Ren longed to forget himself in drink the way it seemed the rest of them could. He understood that while the other guests of the wedding could indulge and enjoy themselves, his status and carefully crafted reputation his nemesis once again. He reserved himself to a night of people watching silently as he allowed the wine in his glass to swirl as much as fiercely as his aching heart.
As his gaze drifted toward the couple making their way onto the empty space of floor allocated for dancing, jealousy dug its blade deeper into his side. Martyn’s arm slipped around Tango’s back, and Ren had to tear his eyes away from the sight. As he drank another sip from his glass, he couldn’t recall wine tasting quite so sour before.