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The sky was a brilliant shade of blue that day, the horizon lined with the jagged peaks of mountains and a few wispy clouds. Jean sat in the passenger's seat of his car, looking at it from the parking lot of a small county courthouse. He chewed on his lip and stared out the window, anxiously toying with the buttons of his dress jacket.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Marco asked, reaching over to run his thumb along Jean's jaw. "You know it's supposed to be bad luck to be upset on your wedding day."
"It's not a wedding" Jean mumbled, pointedly refusing to look him in the eye. "Not a real one."
Marco wasn't having his stubbornness; he pulled at Jean's chin until they were facing each other and smiled warmly.
"Of course it is, Jean. Legal, official, as real as the rings in our pockets right now." He prodded at Jean's jacket pocket playfully and grinned wider. Jean sighed and nodded, but Marco wasn't having that either.
"This is still what you want, isn't it? The way you wanted us to do this?"
Jean nodded again. "Yeah, of course. I mean - I wanna marry you, right now if not sooner, but I just don't want us to... miss out on anything. You know?" He didn't want to talk about everything he was thinking. He was having second thoughts, not about the wedding itself, but about his plan to run off to the little mountain town they were sitting in the middle of and elope.
"We can do whatever you'd like once we get back in town. I'm sure your mother would love the chance to throw a party for us." Marco said the last part with a dramatic roll of his eyes and Jean finally softened, laughing at the thought.
"Still," he said quietly. "It just feels weird, the two of us here alone. I've been with you all day and we came here together - 's not very traditional."
"Since when has anything we've ever done been traditional, Jean?"
"I guess you're right." Jean sighed. Marco always knew exactly what to say, and it was equal parts annoying and endearing. When it came right down to it, Jean wasn't used to doing things without his mom, or surrounded by the comfortable cushion of his friends. Marco's voice was patient and held no judgement as he pulled Jean's fidgeting hand away from the tie at his neck to hold it.
"Now; let's go get married."
Jean nodded slowly. "And then what?"
Marco grinned. "Do you mean the whole 'rest of our lives' part, or the immediate future? Because there's a hotel room waiting for us with a hot tub and some decent wine on the room service menu."
Jean unfastened his seat belt and smirked back at him. "Alright, let's go."
--
The ceremony itself was certainly nothing like what Jean has always imagined, but in its own quiet way, it was even better.
The room where they signed all of the paperwork was brightly lit and noisy, and it made Jean all kinds of anxious just standing at the tall wooden counter, scribbling his name over and over. When the giggly woman behind the counter finally said they were "all finished and ready to get married", Marco thanked her cheerfully, and Jean just followed him silently through a door marked 'Chapel'.
Beyond the door, the room felt like it could've existed in another world altogether. It was softly lit with stained glass lamps and the small tables were topped with simple arrangements of fresh flowers. The entire room was not much wider than a hallway, and it was pleasantly quiet and still. The intimate setting - so different from the abrasive lobby just outside the door - shook Jean back to his senses. Marco squeezed his hand and he threaded their fingers together, leading Jean after him up to the small podium at the back of the room where a softly smiling older man stood waiting.
He shook each of their free hands, and read their names aloud from the papers in front of him. When he asked if they were ready they replied in unison, and Jean smiled at the way the word 'yes' sounded coming from them both at once. The man nodded and flipped open a folder, cleared his throat and began speaking without further ceremony.
"Marco and Jean; the three of us are gathered here today to celebrate the love that the two of you have for each other, and the commitment you intend to make to that love. Do you both enter into this union freely and without contest?"
They nodded at once and he continued, giving a speech about what commitment meant, about the implications of marriage and how important the promises they would make to each other that day would be for the rest of their lives. After a few minutes Jean began tapping his foot, restless at the floral formality of his words. Marco seemed to notice; he tugged at Jean's fingers looped in his and caught his attention, glancing at the the officiant for a moment before looking back at Jean with a silly, half-twisted expression. He stuck his tongue out and Jean bit his lip to keep from laughing, glad that Marco was as anxious to get to the actual vows as he was. Finally, the man cleared his throat again, loud enough to rattle Jean back into the moment, and looked between he and Marco with a satisfied smile.
"Jean and Marco, if you would please hold the rings, face each other and repeat after me."
Jean dipped his hand into his jacket pocket and retrieved the ring there, palming it as he laid his fingers into Marco's outstretched hands. Marco spoke first, repeating the officiant in a smooth, even voice that made Jean wonder if he would do half as well.
"Jean, I am here today to take you as my husband. I give you this ring, as a sign of my unending devotion and faithfulness to you alone. I give my life to you, through the smiles of fortune and the trials of life, that no matter what may come, I will stand by your side through all of it. I give you all of myself in exchange for all of you, that we may always grow together rather than apart. I promise to honor, respect and care for you every day, for the rest of my life. I promise to make my home in your heart, and make a place for you in mine, unchanged by time as we grow old together. And I promise to love you from this day forward, with all of the heart that I commit to you here."
He stroked the back of Jean's fingers with the pad of his thumb, and continued making reassuring circles there while Jean repeated the vows himself. They slipped the rings onto each other's hands and Marco beamed at him. Jean kept his eyes fixed to that smile while the man officiating kept talking.
He spoke about the symbolism of their rings, of the permanence of marriage and about facing the storms of life just to enjoy the sunny days that much more. Jean nodded along, barely cognizant of his words until his tone changed to one of finality and the smile in his voice was visible on Marco's face as well.
"And with both of you consenting to the entrance into lawful wedlock with each other - and by the power vested in me by the state as Justice of the Peace - I now pronounce you as legally married. You may seal your union with a kiss."
Marco leaned in to slide a hand up the back of Jean's neck, and pulled them together softly. Jean hummed contentedly into the kiss, his anxiety melting away with his reservations. He might have stood, kissing and just leaning into Marco - his husband - for hours if there wasn't still another person in the room with them.
The man signed a few more papers stacked on his podium and asked that Marco and Jean do the same. Then he shook their hands - unfazed by the fact that Jean's was still excitedly shaking - congratulating them both and telling them to stay as long as they'd like. He smiled as he gathered the documents and left them alone in the tiny room. As soon as the door clicked behind him, Jean turned to pin Marco to the opposite wall and kiss him, whispering against his smiling lips.
"Mine. Forever. Love you so damn much, Marco."
Marco pushed him back, just enough to see his eyes and grinned wider. "Forever" he agreed. "For real. Now - let's go celebrate."
--
They walked into the hotel lobby, ties already undone and smiling like lovestruck teenagers, blissfully unaware of anyone else around them as they turned the corner to walk down the long hallway to the elevator. When they passed by the doors of the hotel's small gala room, they saw silver and gold balloons tied to the door handles. They'd barely paused a moment to look at them when the doors were thrown open and a chorus of loud, familiar voices rang out from inside the room.
"Surprise!"
Jean froze for a moment, taking in the scene. His mother, Marco's sisters and some of their cousins, and most of their closest friends were standing in something akin to a circle in the ballroom, twinkling lights flashing behind them from their places fixed to tables decorated with silver and gold. Connie, Sasha, Bert and Reiner - all of them were there, dressed sharply and beaming back at he and Marco. Their smiles were almost as bright as the shining ribbons on the handful of gifts stacked on a table beside a simple white cake and what looked like half a dozen bottles of champagne. His mother stepped forward and took one of his hands - Marco still clasping the other - and he choked back the tears suddenly threatening to fall.
"Mom--"
"Congratulations, sweetie" she cooed, leaning up onto her toes to kiss his cheek. She did the same to Marco, and Jean noticed that his new husband was just as surprised as he was. They stood there in the doorway together for a moment more, just exchanging stunned smiles before Connie and Reiner cut through the excited crowd to pull them into the room, nearly throwing them into seats decorated with a few extra balloons.
"I know you boys wanted to do this on your own," his mother said softly, taking a seat next to Jean once their friends stepped back. "But I couldn't stand not throwing you some kind of reception. I... hope this is ok." She glanced around at the dozens of faces smiling from the tables and walls where their loved ones stood, and Jean nodded quickly, still willing tears not to fall.
"This is perfect, mom. Thanks." He hugged her tightly, happy that Marco was passing out hugs and handshakes beside him as well. Once they'd greeted most of the room, Sasha suggested cake and champagne for everyone and got busy passing it out. Jean sat back with Marco's hand resting in his, right on top of the table where the gold ring on his finger could sparkle in the festive light of the room.
They ate in the blissful chaos of everyone in the room stopping by their table in turns to wish them well, opening cards and gifts with their free hands and stopping every so often so that Sasha could snap her famous poorly angled photos. After they'd had a chance to thank everyone for the presents they'd never even expected, Reiner and Bertholdt gathered the gifts up to take them to their suite for them. Reiner borrowed Jean's room key with a wink and a promise to leave a few extra gifts for them to find later. The way Marco flushed at his words made them even funnier to Jean. He took another bite of cake and grinned at the happy, bustling scene around them.
--
The light in the ballroom's windows had begun to wane along with the supply of champagne when Connie announced that he'd found the room's sound system. He poked around with the settings for a few minutes until a fuzzy radio station began to warble from the small, outdated set of speakers next to what looked like a tiny dance floor. When he scanned the frequency a bit more, the opening chords of a cheesy love song became slightly more audible, and Jean only laughed a little bit when Connie decided to sing along.
"Ohhhh, thinking about our younger years..." he almost shouted, Sasha and Reiner quickly joining in. Before the first lines of the song were finished, most of the room was singing along too, an off key karaoke version of the already mediocre music. When he saw that even Marco was singing along, he snorted through a laugh and jabbed him in the arm.
"Really, babe? Bryan Adams?"
Marco grinned, his cheeks blushed dark enough from the drinks to almost mask his freckles. "Oh, come on, Jean. Everyone likes this song." He sang a few words in time with the others, still smiling. Jean shook his head, but tapped his fingers along with Marco's singing.
"Everyone knows it. Doesn't mean they like it" he teased. "Besides, this is about the worst rendition I think I've ever--"
"Dance, dance, dance!" Came a chant from across the room, led by Marco's sisters and Sasha, and approaching where he and Jean sat. Jean twisted his mouth to one side and shook his head, but Marco did nothing to protest the girls rousing them from their chairs, and just like that, the two of them were standing in the middle of a tiny wooden dance floor, swaying to the tone deaf singing of their family and friends.
"I can't believe my first dance with you is to Connie's drunken karaoke party" Jean sighed, but he couldn't pretend wrapping his arms around Marco in front of the entire room didn't feel pretty damned good. People whistled, clapped and cheered, and he forgot to be sour when he caught sight of Marco's face inches from his.
Marco sang along under his breath, still flushed and smiling as he pressed his forehead against Jean's. Jean gave in and sang along with the last few bars of the song, and even laughed with everyone else when it finally ended. They made their way back to their seats as Connie began another sing along, snagging more to eat on their way. He decided as they posed for ridiculous pictures and fed each other messy bites that the cake and sweet champagne tasted even better on Marco's lips.
--
Their friends were still singing in the corner of the ballroom when Marco squeezed Jean's shoulder and nodded his head toward the doors. Jean grinned and nodded; he hugged his mother once more and thanked everyone else with a shouted goodbye, garnering more whistles and cat calls from their friends. He tugged Marco after him, out of the room and down the hall toward the elevator.
As soon as the doors slid closed they were kissing again, Jean reveling in destroying Marco's carefully styled hair as he raked his hands through it. They didn't bother to straighten themselves out when the bell rang for their floor; they tore out of the elevator and ran down the hall, laughing like children when they passed their room and had to double back.
Marco slid the key card down the lock and sighed happily when the light flashed green and the knob turned under his hand. He pushed the door open to their suite and turned back to look at Jean. For a moment neither of them moved, and when a grin crept across Jean's face, Marco raised an eyebrow curiously.
"Well, who's carrying who?" Jean asked.
Marco laughed so loudly Jean wondered if someone would tell them to quiet down. Thinking about the things he was planning on doing to him that night though, he hoped that the walls were a bit more soundproof than that. Thankfully no one stirred, and Marco eventually regained his composure. Mostly.
"You couldn't carry me if you tried!" he snickered, still trying to catch his breath from running and laughing.
"Could too!" Jean protested. "Maybe I just want you to carry me!" Marco just nodded and rolled his eyes.
"Come on, then" he grinned, holding out his arms. Jean looked down at them for a moment, then stepped around to throw his hands over Marco's neck instead, jumping onto his back and nearly knocking them both to the floor. Marco huffed a laugh and grabbed Jean's legs, walking them both into the room and closing the door behind them.
"A piggyback ride on our wedding night?" He asked, kissing one of the arms slung around his neck.
"I never said how I wanted you to carry me" Jean grinned, nipping at his neck. "Besides, it's payback for the Bryan Adams shit earlier."
"Right. Well, speaking of payback..." Marco walked them over to the edge of the massive bed and flipped Jean over himself and onto his back on the plush comforter in one swift motion. Breathless, Jean stared up at him wide eyed and smiling. He reached up and pulled Marco down on top of him, kissing his shoulder and neck as he popped the buttons of his shirt open to trace fingers across his chest as well.
"Promise to take me to bed like that more often now that we're married?" he breathed, pulling at Marco's belt as he pressed a line of kisses across his collarbone. Marco laughed low in his throat and laid them both back onto the bed, cupping Jean's chin in one hand and sliding the other down the side of his face adoringly.
"I do."