Work Text:
It turns out while Bryce’s celebrity was kind of handy in getting some strings pulled at City Hall, it is a pain in the fucking ass when it comes to getting an officiant. Jared figured they could get Elaine or Bryce’s grandpa or someone to get a licence for it, like he’s seen before, keep it in the family, but Alberta’s a buzzkill on that one, and they have to go official.
Summers arranges it, apparently refuses to trust Bryce or Elaine to, and three officiants turn down signing a non-disclosure agreement — apparently it’s ‘offensive’ to ask that, and Jared feels them, honestly — before they get one who agrees to sign the NDA and do their wedding. It’s all very secret spy stuff that Jared wouldn’t have even thought about, but then, he guesses that’s what agents are for.
The officiant asks whether they want prepared vows, or if they’re writing their own, and that sparks the biggest wedding fight since the cake one. The officiant clearly meant like, maybe an updated version of the usual thing, but the question has Bryce deciding they should write like, full on personalised speeches for each other, and that —
Jared doesn’t want to do that. Like, for one, Bryce is going to have a speech that’s a billion times more romantic and great even if he doesn’t put any effort into it — and Jared knows he’s going to put effort in it. Jared’s is going to be awful in comparison. Every time Jared tries to talk about his feelings, it ends up terrible and often insulting. Bryce deserves better. Plus like. Not embarrassing himself in front of his family and friends? Sounds great.
It’s not actually a big fight, not cake level, and not even really a fight, but they’ve been on the same page for everything since the front office meetings, a united front, and it’s a little disconcerting when they’re not.
“You know she meant like, normal vows, right?” Jared says. “Not full on speeches.”
“‘Normal’ vows?” Bryce says.
“You know, the ‘I take you, blah blah blah,’” Jared says. “She just wanted to know if we wanted to personalise them. You’re supposed to save the long stuff for the reception, you know, not drag the wedding on too long.”
Did Jared trawl wedding sites explicitly for this ammo? Absolutely. He’s even got the links saved in case Bryce asks for sources. Sources say: don’t do anything that takes over a minute, it’s a bad idea, it’ll bore your guests.
“Why does it matter if the wedding goes on a bit longer?” Bryce says. “We’re doing reception right after, so—”
“Yeah, but like, that’s when the speeches are for,” Jared says.
“Except you said you didn’t want to do speeches at the reception, just wanted like, a chill dinner with our family and friends,” Bryce counters.
Dammit. Jared has been outfoxed by himself, because he totally did say that — last thing he wanted was all clinking silverware to make him and Bryce kiss and his mom making a speech that would mortify him, and Elaine probably making him cry, and now he’s lost the argument, hasn’t he?
“I just — it’s not traditional,” Jared says. “The officiant—”
“Who cares?” Bryce asks. “It’s our wedding, not hers. What’s she going to do, complain? Say ‘no speeches at the wedding’? I doubt we’re the only people who’ve ever asked to do them.”
“But—” Jared says. He’s stuck, though, because anything he says will sound like ‘I don’t want to say how I feel about you in front of everyone’, which makes him sound like an asshole. And if he said ‘I want it to be private’, Bryce would immediately counter with the fact that it is not, in fact, private, that they’re getting married in front of witnesses, and he’d be right, and —
Bryce is giving him these big disappointed eyes, and Jared knows he’s going to cave.
“Mine’s going to be so bad,” Jared says. “I’m just warning you in advance.”
“Nothing you do is bad,” Bryce says.
See? Effortlessly more romantic. It’s not fair. Though like — way more unfair for Bryce, when it comes down to it. He says shit like that and Jared says shit like ‘glad I don’t think you’re a douche anymore’. No contest.
“I thought that card was really sweet,” Bryce says, apparently completely oblivious to the fact he’s just proving Jared’s point more and more.
*
So Bryce wins the argument — not argument, minor debate that Jared absolutely lost and now means he has to prepare for mortification — and Jared calls in the reinforcements at training a few days later, because he knows he can’t do it alone.
Raf seems like the kind of guy who’d like, light candles at dinner for ambiance, and Chaz is totally the kind of guy who’d buy Ashley flowers ‘just because’, all these things Jared is totally deficient at, and it just makes sense — lean on your teammates for help, right? If you’re weak on the point, don’t go there, let a teammate more capable have that slot. Teamwork 101.
“You seem like a romantic guy,” Jared says to Raf while they’re waiting on Arvan, who’s apparently stuck in traffic, and Chaz, who has no good excuse, because ‘sorry I slept in’ sucks as far as excuses go.
Raf looks at him suspiciously. “No,” he says.
“I haven’t even asked you for anything yet,” Jared says.
“No,” Raf repeats. “You have to do your own wedding stuff.”
“It’s just my vows,” Jared says.
“That’s the most important part,” Raf says, sounding faintly scandalised.
“Please?” Jared tries.
Raf walks away from him. Walks away.
*
“You seem like a romantic guy,” Jared says to Chaz after they wrap up for the day.
“Oh fuck no,” Chaz says. “I’ve already heard like three drafts of BJ’s vows, there’s no way I’m listening to yours too.”
Three drafts? In two days? Jared’s fucked.
“I was going to ask you to help me write them?” Jared says.
“That’s so much worse, no way,” Chaz says.
“Please?” Jared says.
“No,” Chaz says.
“…Please?” Jared says.
“If you keep asking me I’m telling BJ you’re trying to pawn off your vows,” Chaz threatens, and Jared meekly admits defeat and goes it alone.
He looks up some sample vows on his phone while he’s making him and Bryce dinner that night, and they leave him red with secondhand embarrassment. He can’t imagine saying anything even close to what they say. There will be no ‘light of my life’ leaving his mouth, true or not. Apparently if he wants his vows to actually sound like they came from his mouth, well, he’s going to have to do them from scratch. Fuck.
Jared was always kind of, well — he was a studious kid. He got good grades. He prepared for classes. So it seems to make sense to make a list as a starting point. Sort of a ‘Pros and Cons of Bryce Justin Marcus, Except Just the Pros Because Our Wedding is a Dumb Time To Mention the Cons, Unless the Cons are Endearing Ones’. Which, he supposes, would make them pros? Fuck. He is not good at this. This is not his thing. The list part, sure, but not the conveying emotion part. He has a ton of emotions for Bryce, but like, saying them? Oof.
It’s actually a pretty easy exercise when he retreats to the spare room to do it after dinner, since it’s just listing Bryce facts, rather than how Jared feels about them, though shit like ‘that ass’ is not exactly appropriate, and ‘the Winnie the Pooh collection you still have in your childhood bedroom’ or ‘the fact you thought all truffles were chocolate’ would probably embarrass Bryce and give people who shouldn’t have any more ammo so much ammo. Julius and Erin are not to be trusted. Neither are Jared’s parents, to be honest.
But there’s stuff that is family appropriate and won’t embarrass Bryce. His grins, and all the subtle differences between them and how there’s one Jared is ninety-nine percent sure only he ever gets to see. How freaking smart and observant and talented he is at hockey, and how sweet he is, and thoughtful, and patient, and how hard he tries. How good he is to Jared, even when Jared doesn’t deserve it.
That seems like, sappy. But then, that’s probably what weddings are for? Except Jared has trouble being sappy when it’s just Bryce listening, and not like, his family, who will chirp him forever, and his friends, who will chirp him forever, and — sappy is hard. This feels like the kind of stuff to mumble in Bryce’s ear in bed, not the kind of thing to say in front of more than a dozen people, some he barely knows, one he’s literally never met before.
It’s hard. He ends up with the most ridiculous bullet points in a password protected document, all:
-I love you
-you’re so sweet
-did I mention I love you?
-honestly it’s probably insane how much I love you
He’s not saying that shit. He can’t say that shit. It’s embarrassing. Of course he loves Bryce: he’s fucking tying them together for as long as they both shall live. You’ve got to be a little crazy in love to commit yourself to one person for the rest of your damn life.
He’s definitely crazy in love to be thinking about Bryce at like, forty, having a shitfit because he’s starting to go bald, or grey, when he’s so vain about his — admittedly terrific — hair. Or Bryce at sixty, buying a convertible all over again and thinking he’s so cool, or at ninety, grin as shiny white as ever because his teeth are all fake, and still being like ‘yeah, I want that guy’.
He wants Bryce tomorrow, and a week from now, and twenty years from now, and pretty much forever, and if he could put that in a speech it’d probably go over well, but he doesn’t think he’d even manage to say it to Bryce if they were alone, let alone in front of everyone else. Maybe actions speak louder than words? Marriage is a pretty big fucking action. Except Bryce is going to be doing the same action, plus he’ll have a lot of pretty words Jared’s kind of incapable of.
And now Jared’s thinking about other Bryces, or just like, future Bryces, inevitable Bryces — not inevitable that he balds at forty, or buys a dumb car at sixty, or that he even lives until ninety, but inevitable that he ages and that Jared wants to be there when he does — and he doesn’t know if there are kids there, mocking Bryce for his hypothetical flashy car, or grandkids getting a kick out of the dentures, or what.
He hasn’t thought too much about kids, really. Partly he’s young — though not too young to get married, clearly — and he kind of thought that just…might not be a thing for him, especially since he wasn’t exactly going to be following the marry a woman have 1.8 kids and a picket fence or whatever. And maybe it won’t be a thing for him ever, or until after retirement, or — he doesn’t know. Isn’t entirely sure about his own feelings about that, or Bryce’s, though he has his suspicions that kids are something Bryce would want.
And that’s probably a thing to talk about before the wedding. The billion wedding blogs he’s read — research is important — have all said to square away the important things before the wedding, family and career goals and ideal location and religion and politics and all that, and he’s ignored it all, but it probably should be a conversation before the wedding.
The having a family thing, at least. Career and location are out of both of their hands, really, just something they have to roll with. Religion definitely isn’t a major thing in either of their lives — it’s not even a thing thing in Jared’s life, and he knows Bryce thinks there’s probably a god somewhere out there, but that’s about it. And Bryce is the least political person ever, but like, in an earnest, ‘everyone deserves to be happy’ way that Jared thinks might be considered political in itself. Fuck knows them getting married is political in itself, even in Canada, where it’s been legal most of Jared’s life.
But kids? That’s something that might just crop up in the course of spending the rest of their lives together. Just possibly.
Jared closes the doc — password protected or not, no way he wants Bryce to accidentally stumble onto that ridiculousness — unlocks the door to the spare room — he was maybe a lot paranoid about Bryce not stumbling in on the ridiculousness — and wanders into the living room after hiding his laptop in said spare room. Look, paranoia is good. You put things in obvious places and then suddenly your boyfriend finds an engagement ring when he’s stealing your socks. Not that that didn’t work out pretty damn well in the long run, but still.
“How do you feel about like, children?” Jared asks.
“Like, do I like kids?” Bryce says, not looking away from his dumb reality show. “Kids are great.”
“No, I mean like,” Jared says, pauses.
Bryce pauses his show, so Jared guesses the pause was telling.
“Like, for us?” Jared says. “Eventually, obviously, not like —”
“I mean,” Bryce says. “I’d love to have kids. Not like, right away, or even soon, but—”
“I don’t know yet?” Jared asks. “If I want that.”
“That’s not a dealbreaker, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Bryce says, and Jared didn’t even fully realise it could be until Bryce said that, which gives him a tiny frisson of terror. “But for the record, I think you’d be an awesome dad.”
“You too,” Jared says, and it’s reflexive, but — he totally would be. The patience, and kindness, and how thoughtful he is, how perceptive he is about other people’s feelings. He’d be a terrific dad, and Jared’s having like, feelings about that, apparently. He’s having a lot of feelings lately. It’s very disorienting. Like, he always has feelings, obviously, he’s not a robot, but he’s having so many. Bryce always does this to him, dammit.
“Cross that bridge when we come to it?” Bryce asks. “Or if we come to it?”
“Okay,” Jared says, and goes to sit down beside him. “Which stupid show are we watching?”
“We don’t have to,” Bryce says. “Wanna watch a movie?”
“Nah, we can watch your show,” Jared says, leaning his head on his shoulder. “I’m fully prepared for the stupid.”
“Okay,” Bryce says, kissing the top of his head, unpausing the show, and Jared mostly drifts while a lot of very attractive, very irritating people apparently feel even more than Jared does, judging by all the raised voices.
“This is so freaking dumb,” Jared says.
“Yeah, I know,” Bryce says, and pulls him in closer.