Chapter Text
Alisha is almost in tears the next time she enters the flower shop. Since brides are rarely not stressed, Mikleo provides her with a box of tissues they keep behind the counter, which is dismissed with a wave of her hand.
"I'm sorry. It's just so hard to keep up with everything. The date's been pushed back a week, and now the wedding is taking place in Pendrago! There's still so much to do."
Lailah, lounging at her desk and folding sheets of paper, sighs, "If it's in Pendrago, there are florists we can send you to, but that's hours away by train."
Despair spreads on Alisha's face and she openly weeps while Sorey walks in, "Oh, Alisha you're… here."
"Sorey!" She whines, "They're really the best, right?"
Mikleo folds his arms, smirking while Sorey glances at him and laughs sheepishly. It's nice that it's not even surprising that Sorey brags about him.
"Yeah. They are."
"Then you have to come! Mikleo, I'd hoped to invite you anyway since you've been so helpful to me!" Alisha looks absolutely desperate. The stress is clearly overwhelming her.
"Oh, um. He's already coming. I hope."
"I am?" Mikleo raises his eyebrows.
"Yeah… I RSVP'd with a plus one. I was gonna invite you after today."
Alisha's tears stop almost immediately, stress replaced with a quizzical look. "...Really? That's who you're inviting? But the room you booked is--"
"Yeahitsureis" Sorey gestures for her to stop talking. She stares in wonder, and Lailah leans over the counter with a gossip-hungry grin.
"...So, you haven't even invited me yet, and we'll be staying in a room with a single bed. Did I get it right?" His insides flip over, but he'll be damned if he'll let it show on his face. He keeps a professional smile and clicks his pen irritably. Alisha is the only one who doesn't seem to notice that (and honestly? He has to admit, she's really on top of things if she knows what kind of rooms people reserve. He's never met a bride that had it together that well). "That's fine. We'll talk about that later. For now, miss Diphda, you said on the phone that you needed to discuss the altar pieces?"
"Diphda…" Lailah repeats, tapping her chin, "Mikleo! Conference! Cooler! Now!"
He groans and rolls his eyes, which at least seems to entertain the future bride, and follows Lailah into the back cooler, the heavy door shuts behind them with a loud creaking noise. It's not entirely soundproof, so he speaks in an elevated whisper over the whirring cooling unit. "What is it?"
"That's the Alisha Diphda, right?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Well, then, glad that's settled, you're going to the wedding with Sorey! I'll talk with our suppliers about shipping to the hotel for you." She smiles way too sweetly and titters behind her hand.
"I'm glad nothing's settled!" He crosses his arms, "What are you talking about?"
"She's from one of the wealthiest families in Ladylake! So her business is very important and if you don't go, I will. You can stay here every day until closing with Edna!" Sinister, sweet, either way, the threat works.
"...Right…"
"And I wouldn't worry, he seems gentle with you."
"I will get my own room." He seethes.
She laughs, pushing past him. The cooler is a narrow space and filled with uncleaned roses and filler flowers, so they always move carefully through it, and there really isn't space for two. He takes an extra few seconds to breathe, straightens up, and follows her out.
She spends the rest of the day giggling over Alisha's choice in flowers. Lilies are her favorites, so naturally they must be featured in every single piece.
After work, he doesn't bother waiting on Sorey, but he's not intending to be rude. He's just feeling too awkward to sit in silence for however long until Sorey gets off. He wants to get home, unwind, and maybe get some rest before having to sort out his travel plans. He didn't really want to go, but that didn't really have anything to do with Sorey.
No, Sorey is an amazing and thoughtful boyfriend (it took a while for Mikleo to warm up to calling him that), and this stunt is amazingly out of character from what Mikleo knew of him. There's probably more to it. He's not sure he wants to know just yet.
He checks his phone when he's home, finding four messages. Two from Alisha with forwarded pictures of the venue and detailed measurements of everything in it. One from Lailah telling him that their supplier agreed to deliver to Pendrago so he can make the pieces there, and the last one from Sorey asking if he can come over later. He responds to the first three easily, and sets his phone down. He's not ignoring him, he just… wants to think.
Maybe he won't get his own room. Maybe intimacy wouldn't feel rushed in that situation. Maybe Sorey wasn't even thinking of that.
...Maybe he should just get a shower and sleep on it. It won't help to stress over personal matters while he still has details to work out professionally. He's only kissed Sorey that one time, after all, so getting carried away seems like a really stupid plan.
His shower is only just loud enough on his ears that he barely hears knocking at his door (and he curses under his breath, because nobody likes being interrupted and he's in an especially annoyed mood that makes it worse today). He scrambles to dress, mostly because he feels like he knows who it is at the door and isn't about to answer in a towel.
He throws on clothes he'd planned to relax in for the rest of the day, clean but worn comfortably thin with age. And then he regrets it, because Sorey's face immediately reddens and he can tell, he's struggling not to stare. "You really did remember the code."
"Y-yeah."
It's really hard to stay irritated, seeing Sorey so embarrassed.
"Are you mad?"
"No." He answers, standing back to let Sorey in and shutting the door behind him, "Not really."
He enters awkwardly, stealing glances at Mikleo rather than really looking at him, "You answered the others but not me, so."
Mikleo huffs, combing wet hair out of his face. He should have thought of that - Sorey is close to Alisha and spoke rather easily with Lailah, so of course he'd figure out that he was the only one Mikleo hadn't answered. "Sorry."
"I should be the one who's sorry!" Sorey does that kind-of-cute panicking thing he does when he's flustered and Mikleo fights back a smile. "I was going to ask if it's okay, and there's still time to change the reservation, so I can do that now if you want!"
"Do you want to stay over tonight?" He asks suddenly, and if Sorey can get any more embarrassed he'd pay money to see it. Seeing Sorey like this instills in him the confidence of the upper hand, and he manages to give him a sly sort of smile, "Just to make sure we won't drive each other crazy."
Sorey starts to nod, and then snaps out of it, "Uh. I should get a change of clothes, and--"
"I have a couple things that might fit you. And a washer and dryer. The bed is a full size, so… We'll fit."
A long silence drags between them and turns his stomach over, his confidence cracking slowly. Nothing is going to happen tonight, he knows, but it doesn't stop him from being nervous. Sorey nods and reaches out to him, the side of his face, and draws him close and suddenly all of his confidence is gone, fire in his chest even as his skin is chilled from the water.
Sorey kisses him and it's shy, earnest and lukewarm at the same time. He can feel the slight trembling in his jaw, the want on his lips that draws him closer. Not to be outdone, Mikleo reaches around Sorey's neck and hugs him, just tight enough to keep Sorey from trying to pull away. Things are going well enough between them that he wants to show it.
He feels Sorey melt against him, either from nerves or glee, and he grins into the kiss, trying his best to savor every part of it. Warm and soft, moving with such care that Mikleo starts to get a little impatient. When Sorey's hand touches his waist with nervous, shaking hands, he recoils suddenly.
Sorey stares at him with wide eyes and it's Mikleo's turn to be embarrassed. "Are you… Ticklish ?"
"No." He lies immediately, but Sorey tests it again, fingertips light and playful against his sides making him jump back.
"You are." He has this expression on his face that clearly says this is never going away, delightedly smiling. Mikleo stands back, biting his lip.
"Don't." He doesn't trust the look on Sorey's face. Even so, he's trying to fight a smile.
"How do you expect me to resist?" Sorey laughs, giddy as he rushes forward to grab Mikleo's sides again and they tumble together onto the floor. Mikleo yelps, then squirms and tries to fight back, managing to prod him in the stomach a few times (he can't tell if Sorey is ticklish but he does seem to react somewhat).
He loses the battle, though, breathless from laughter by the time Sorey lets up, looking just as out of breath. His hands are still glued to Mikleo's waist, effectively pinning him there. "You sure you're okay with me staying?"
"...Yeah, so long as you're not going to keep doing this all night." Sorey shakes his head, and Mikleo takes hold of his collar, tugging him down for another kiss. Aside from being physically abused by Edna's umbrella, or the occasional overdramatic hug from Lailah, or even Zaveid's overly-familiar way of interacting with just about everyone, he's successfully avoided contact from people for most of his life. He can admit, though not out loud, that Sorey's hands on him is something that feels right and from this position, pinned under him on the floor, he can tell that Sorey must feel the same way about it. Looking up at him, able to read him just a little better than before, he gives an awkward half-smile and glances away, "...I never had the chance to finish in the shower."
"...Oh." Sorey manages quietly, standing and helping Mikleo to his feet. "Sorry. Just…" he holds onto Mikleo's hand a few seconds longer and leans forward for one more kiss, because he's so enthusiastic and sweet and doesn't like holding back.
Mikleo is happy, like this. He's suddenly sure that even if they'd just been friends to start with, he would have fallen for Sorey anyway (and then he's annoyed with himself, because he's never admitted to his feelings and he doesn't feel quite ready to say they're all sorted just yet).
"I love you." Sorey clearly doesn't have the same issues with honesty that he does. It's not exactly the first time he's said something to that effect, but it's more direct than before, easier to hear.
He turns red and hides his face against Sorey's clothes, and maybe nods a little.
From there, the night is quiet and tension floats thinly in the air like dust motes. Things are simple enough, though; keeping distracted with books until they're tired, finding pants that fit Sorey but not a shirt (...Mikleo doesn't mind that too much), and there's this one moment, when they climb stiffly into either side of the bed that suddenly feels too large, in which Sorey, under the sheets, finds Mikleo's hand and laces their fingers together.
He turns to look in the dark, seeing faint outlines of Sorey's face, his kind smile and shining eyes, but he doesn't say anything, because he doesn't want to just be swept along by a mood.
"G'night, Mikleo."
"...Good night, Sorey." It doesn't quite feel like enough. Lights sweep past the window and give more definition to Sorey's face, and Mikleo leans close, just for a moment, just for one last kiss goodnight.
He barely sleeps at all that night, but he isn't uncomfortable.
Travel plans are discussed in the following week. In his personal life, no further progress is made, but since he's busy he tries not to think about it.
That's not entirely true, though. Sorey has gotten a lot more familiar with him lately, coming behind the counter when it doesn't seem busy and hugging him around the waist (and it's always around his waist now - now that he knows the skin there is sensitive, fingertips as threatening as a loaded gun when he wears this sneaky grin of his), but they've always got somewhat of an audience between Lailah and Edna, so it never goes further than that. Sometimes he wonders how it would go, if they were alone. He imagines whispers of Sorey's breathing on his neck, those hands sliding down to his hips, the press of his body - and then Lailah asks him if he's feeling okay, he gets back to work and she hums to herself, way too pleased.
The day he leaves (one day before Sorey does, even though Sorey already voiced his disappointment that they wouldn't be travelling together), he heads to the shop to pack up a few things he'll need, like his knife and clippers, and finds Lailah writing the cards.
"Here's a good one," She grins. It's one of her silliest work habits, sharing the intimate contents of some couple's romance from the cards she has to hand-write, "You had better be naked when I get home. Love, daddy. Oh… maybe not that last part."
He rolls his eyes, bids her goodbye and leaves.
And still, she's put the idea in his head. He brought a book for the train ride (not Sorey's copy of the Celestial Record, it's too worn out to be shoved in his travel bag with knives and the like), but can't focus on it. He wishes that Sorey was with him, to excitedly chatter about those leaning structures with him through the window. The hours on the train are spent anxiously, and honestly wasted.
His first task when arriving, on the way to the hotel, is to stop by the shop in the city that would be receiving the shipment for him, as Lailah had arranged. He finds it easily, but it's not what he expected, painted in dark-but-stylish colors and patterns, bright orange-yellow hibiscus murals on purple and black. The small woman inside is right at home in there, looking gloomy.
"Are you Symonne?" He asks, fist clenched around the strap of his bag somewhat nervously, "I'm Mikleo. You spoke with the owner of our shop yesterday, and--"
"Our supplier arrives before seven tomorrow morning. Come get it by eight." It's hard to tell if she's being rude or not. "Congratulations on getting the Strelka-Diphda wedding."
"...Thanks for your help. Sorry if we're stepping on your toes."
"No, no… You're a friend of the bride, after all." Her voice sounds like she doesn't believe that, like she's mocking him, and he stiffens, "Besides, I saw your list. Is the bride as boring as her choices?"
His mouth twitches and she laughs. It is beyond chilling. "She has very traditional tastes." He settled on.
"I'm sure you'll find a way to spruce it up…"
"Right… Well, I need to get checked in. Thank you for your help."
"See you tomorrow morning, then."
He sends Alisha a brief email to let her know the time so that a car can be ready to pick up the flowers. Next, he needs to talk to the hotel staff about cool places to store the finished pieces. He can arrange everything in his room (incidentally, he looked up room layouts in the hotel, and the rooms with the queen-sized beds have the best amount of floor space, so Sorey picked a good one). They seem upbeat, but it's still two days before the main event and he's sure they'll be exhausted by the end of the week.
And then… That's it. He checks in, sends messages to Lailah and Sorey letting them know everything is sorted, kicks his shoes off and sits on the bed. It's too early to sleep, but there's nothing else to do today. His phone rings, and he answers without looking.
"Did you see all the monuments?" Sorey's excited voice on the other end brings a smile to his face.
"No, I was hoping to have time to see them with you, after the wedding." There's silence on the other end, and Mikleo laughs lightly, imagining the look on Sorey's face. "Of course I'd wait for you."
He hears Sorey's breathing and leans back on the bed, closing his eyes. "I'm really happy! I haven't been able to explore Pendrago before."
"It seems like the same size as Ladylake, but the buildings are a lot taller." He goes on to tell him about the way the city seems to have been built on top of its own history, the facade of the homes and businesses looking like relics compared to their interiors, and the streets are stone instead of pavement. There are probably areas that are newer, but he hasn't seen them and can't mention them to Sorey.
Their chatter over history winds down slowly, and Sorey finally changes the subject, "Lailah told me I should help you with setting up."
"Yeah? Is she planning on paying you?"
"Maybe. But she said you're probably too short to re--"
"Did she say I'd kill you if you finished that sentence?"
"...Actually, yeah."
That soft, embarrassed laughter sounds different through the call, but it's still the same. He misses it, it's barely been twenty-four hours since he last saw Sorey but he misses him. For a moment, that's pathetic, but he tries to remember how new all of this is to him, and he starts to speak, "Hey, Sorey, I--"
Sorey was starting to say something too, and he couldn't quite make it out over his own voice.
"Sorry. What were you saying?"
"Oh, no, you first." Sorey seems happy.
"...I'll tell you when you get here."
A long pause, too long, before Sorey speaks again. "Alright. I can wait."
This is so new. And tomorrow night, the two of them would be sharing this unfamiliar and possibly too-soft bed, he could reach out and touch Sorey in new and unfamiliar ways and the thought excites him, his heart races and heat wells up. "I'm glad I agreed to this." He says thoughtlessly, then hastily adds, "I should get something for dinner. I'll see you tomorrow."
"I look forward to it. Later, Mikleo."
He dwells on the way Sorey said goodbye when he hangs up. He can sound casual and light, but there's always an undercurrent of love in his voice, sweetness that breaks through to the surface in his name. He feels oddly vulnerable as he curls up on the bed, unable to resist and caught in a riptide of heat and lust he's never experienced before. He never asked for this.
The next day, the room is filled with flowers. To his horror, the lily buds aren't even slightly cracked open, so he can do little more than re-cut them into hot water hourly, cover them with plastic, keep the room temperature annoyingly hot and pray. He can probably buy more, from Symonne's supply, but he really doesn't want to do that.
The first ones start to open around three in the afternoon and he can finally stop holding his breath. Sorey is getting in after six, so he can keep the room hot until about five; since lilies of the same variety open roughly at the same pace, he's safe. Some of the most beautiful Casablanca Lilies he's ever worked with begin to spread their petals, and the rose lilies he'd picked out (because somehow he knew Alisha would like them, layered petals and no threat of pollen stains) burst open soon after. Buckets of lilies line the room.
The rehearsal is tomorrow, and he has all the vases ready, all the roses cleaned, and he's fully prepped before he has to get the temperature down to something reasonable.
Amidst all those flowers, he smells terrible. He rushes through a shower, then starts to clean up his mess.
Most of the leaves and thorns and cut stems are bagged and set outside the door by five-thirty. Most of it. There's still a small pile in front of the table the hotel provided him, where he got most of the work done, and there's also the issue of the guard petals he'd pulled from the roses…
Alisha hadn't asked him to save them - a lot of brides do, and some grooms, for the wedding night - he just did out of habit. So they're his to do with as he pleases. And that stupid card Lailah read him pops intrusively back into his mind, the thought of preparing the room and himself for Sorey when he gets in...
It's so stupid, but he caves, one swift impulsive decision (and he is not that impulsive, no, this is an oddity in itself) sends rose petals flying over the bed sheets and the floor leading up to it. His stomach ties in knots and he starts to feel ill, starts thinking about maybe cleaning them back up, but at fifteen past six the door opens and his heart skips a beat before jumping in his throat and trying to choke him.
"Mikleo-- Oh, wow." Sorey looks around the room, at Mikleo sitting awkwardly on the bed, and there's that laugh again.
He stands, reaching to help Sorey set his things down, maybe get him out of those clothes--
"You really made a mess in here. Need help cleaning up?"
In that moment, he decides Sorey is a moron.
Sorey keeps asking why he's sighing so much as they clean the room, and he just grumbles about it without really answering. For their first night in a new place, it's far too uneventful for his liking.
Morning, on the other hand, follows a series of dreams he rather enjoyed, and before they melt away to reality he leans over Sorey to tiredly kiss him awake, gentle but bold. After he's briefly startled, Sorey reciprocates, hands finding Mikleo's waist and resting there until he sits back up. "Good morning."
Sorey smiles up at him, cheeks tinged with pink and eyes tired, "Morning." He says, hand rubbing along Mikleo's side affectionately. "That's a nice way to wake up. We should do that more often."
It could have been nicer, Mikleo almost points out, but he bites his tongue and kisses Sorey again, "I have to get started on the pieces for the rehearsal."
"What time is it?"
"Nine. I slept in a little."
Sorey groans and sits up, rubbing his eyes before turning his attention back to Mikleo. "I'll go get us something to eat while you work, then."
"Would you mind asking the staff for some boxes to carry centerpieces in? Um, like boxes they'd use to pack wine in, with dividers."
"Sure." But before he gets out of bed, one more kiss. They're getting better at this. Sorey gets changed in front of him (and he doesn't stare, okay?) and once he's out of the room, Mikleo sighs heavily.
A few extra minutes of internal meltdowns and he throws on clothes he can work in, starting with carefully removing all of the pollen from open lilies so the petals won't stain. His hands and clothes will, but the flowers are safe. Sorey comes in as he's preparing them for use, setting a plate of warm food in front of him and then hugging him around the waist from behind, as always. And now they're in the unique position where this could go further, but Sorey's breathing feels all wrong against him, like he's nervous.
If that's all though, it's fine. Mikleo ought to get his work done anyway.
"Wasn't there something you wanted to tell me?"
Mikleo's heart speeds, not races, and his breathing hitches in a way he knows Sorey catches. "Was there? I forgot."
"That's convenient." His tone says he's doubtful, and that's the first time Mikleo has heard it from him.
"...I'll tell you if I remember."
"Will you?" Mikleo just nods in response, leaning back a little into Sorey's arms. They tighten around him and he takes it to mean that Sorey was satisfied with that. "Why are your hands yellow?"
They're never going to have a decent mood between them, at this rate. He smiles anyway, turning and smearing the pollen stain on Sorey's cheek without warning. "Now your face is."
"What the--" he pauses, then grins, hands sliding back to Mikleo's sides threateningly, "Mikleo…"
Mikleo finds himself in a strange position where he can't fight back because the pollen on his hands won't come out of clothes, and Sorey seems to have figured that out quickly (so there are some things he can pick up on), pinning him between himself and the table as he tickled his sides. Mikleo laughs until it hurts, writhing to try and get away, and eventually just rubs his hands on Sorey's face and neck, covering him with the yellow-orange stain.
That gets Sorey to stop, "This comes out, right?"
"Sure. Easily," He lies. "Soap and hot water. Go ahead and get a shower, you smell anyway."
A half hour later, Sorey comes out of the bathroom still tinted yellow, and very annoyed (though his annoyance seems more playful than anything, because that's just the kind of person Sorey is, and it's charming). Mikleo knows how to get the pollen out, but he's going to let him suffer just a little longer first.
He makes the throw bouquet for the rehearsal rather than the real one, with a note for Alisha saying he wants to give the lilies more time to open wider before using them. He isn't part of the wedding party, but Sorey is, so he takes it, face still stained, and Mikleo sets up the centerpieces in the dining room during the time the rehearsal goes on.
He's working on getting the containers for the altar pieces ready when Sorey walks in, and he sets it all aside to give his attention to him. "So, how is it? Pendrago's Shrinechurch?"
"Well, it might have been better if Lucas and Boris would've been able to ignore my face." Sorey says with a wry smile. "Your hands are clean."
"Fine, I'll show you." Mikleo laughs and blocks Sorey's hand from reaching for his sides again, instead grabbing it and pulling him to the sink. "Look at me?"
"Always."
He reddens, "Shut up."
He cleans everything from Sorey's face in silence with the cleaning solution dabbed onto a towel, his heart beating heavy in his chest the whole time.
I love you.
He tries out the words in his head, mouthing them silently while Sorey's eyes are closed. It's his own rehearsal, in a way. He'll say it soon enough.
The bouquet for the bride is the last piece he makes, at noon. Symonne's words taunt him. As far as brides go, Alisha has been one of the kindest and easiest to handle, and her family spent a great deal on the wedding, so he wants to do something nice for her. But it's true, the flowers all in white look incredibly plain.
He adds unopened lily buds for texture and coiled ti leaves for style, but it doesn't seem like enough, and it ends up being large and he's suddenly worried that it might just look like a white blob to people in the back row. Sorey has been watching him fret over it for a while, and has started looking concerned.
"It's really beautiful." He tries, but it does nothing to mollify Mikleo.
"It's what she asked for, but…" He starts, turning it over in his hands. The shape and flow of it are both perfect, he just doesn't know what to do about the color. "Maybe I've stared at it too long."
"Her dress has pink in it. Would that help?"
"...Like, blush? Baby? Salmon? 'Pink' isn't that helpful."
Sorey looks at the ceiling thoughtfully, "Like your face when you're embarrassed."
"You are not helpful. "
But Sorey laughs at him. "Very soft. The color of the bridesmaid's dresses."
"...Do you think she'd mind if I added something?"
Sorey shakes his head and smiles, "She'll love whatever you hand her. She actually said she liked the throw bouquet enough to just use that."
Somehow he ought to be amused that the biggest wedding of the year for their shop has the least nit-picky bride he's ever met, but he's not surprised. She and the groom are both friends of Sorey's after all.
Instead of pink flowers, he fishes pink gem-tipped pins out of his supplies and stabs them into the center of each white rose in the bouquet around the lilies. It's just enough to liven it up, he decides, and they pass the dining room arrangements to the hotel staff to set up once the reception hall is ready and take the arrangements for the shrinechurch themselves. It takes two trips, and all afternoon to set up, pews decorated with more lilies and fairy lights, the front of the church covered in arrangements that he's glad they don't have to clean up.
Alisha cries when Mikleo hands her the bouquet, and her makeup has to be redone. There's barely enough time for him and Sorey to get changed into formal clothing in the end, but Mikleo feels it's worth it, a swelling of pride at every gasping guest in the church remarking on how stunning it is.
Sorey comes to find him, groom in tow, before the ceremony starts. "Hey, Mikleo, um." He seems oddly nervous, unwilling to make eye contact. "Sergei wanted to ask you something."
"First of all, thank you for all your hard work. I'm glad Alisha chose you as her florist."
"N-not at all," He says awkwardly, unused to this situation (Lailah usually takes care of it). "What did you need?"
"Well, I was wondering, if perhaps you'd…" He clears his throat, somehow even managing to make that look formal and stiff, "If you'd saved the flower petals. My brother told me I should have decorated our room and I've been thoughtless."
Mikleo can feel himself burning up with embarrassment, "...Yeah. Yeah, I should have saved enough. I can… I can try and discreetly send them during the reception."
Sergei thanks him emphatically, shaking both of his hands, and Sorey lingers after he's left.
"...So."
To avoid saying anything, he makes a show of pretending to adjust Sorey's boutonniere.
"Sorry," Sorey says quietly, since they're standing close enough. One hand slides around Mikleo's body and he kisses him ever so briefly, "I honestly didn't know."
"It's fine," Mikleo says quickly, "You're an idiot. I love you anyway."
Sorey pulls away, stunned, and Mikleo turns to find a seat while throwing a silencing gesture over his shoulder. They both keep stealing awkward glances at each other throughout the ceremony. Mikleo knows that someday he'll die of embarrassment.
They swap placecards with someone so that Mikleo can sit at Sorey's left at the reception. It's convenient since that way, they can sit close and hold hands under the table, his dominant hand is all he really needs to use above it. Sergei needlessly reminds him of the petals after it's already taken care of, and once the first dance is over, Sorey drags Mikleo onto the floor. Neither of them can dance, but the song is slow and easy, so they don't embarrass themselves much.
"This isn't moving too quickly, is it?" Sorey isn't talking about the song. Mikleo looks over at the band instead.
"Maybe. I wouldn't know." It felt right though, he didn't say. The warm hands always on his waist felt wonderful and kind, and he would never mind if they started wandering.
They're silent until the song ends, and Sorey takes Mikleo's hand in his, fingers laced together. The bouquet toss is next - things like that would be way too soon, so instead, they walk out of the reception hall for some time to themselves. Then they keep walking, back to their room, sitting together on the bed, and Sorey's gentle smile is so earnest and full of love that Mikleo can only nod, though he isn't sure at first exactly what he's agreeing to.
Something clicks though, and his impatience before is now replaced with shyness.
"Hey, say it again." Sorey says with a bright smile.
He knows what he meant, but can't resist, "That you're an idiot? I'll tell you as many times as you want."
That soft laughter he adores so much rings in his ears as he tugs at Sorey's tie, loosening it while he draws him into another kiss. They're definitely getting better, timid touches emboldened by the confidence that they're on the same page for once. Through all of their little failings, all the surprises the night had to offer, echoed murmurs of sweet nothings flow freely and comfortably. He awakens with Sorey in his arms the next morning.
The scent of flowers still fills the room, and he decides to sleep in late, hold on just a while longer before Sorey wakes up and they're distracted by sightseeing.