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In complete disregard for age-old traditions, the two grooms put on their faces and tuxes for their wedding in the same studio in the back of the church. Then again, it wasn’t exactly a traditional wedding.
“You know what, I’m glad this happened,” Tony said brashly, taking a moment’s break from inspecting the lines of his goatee in a full-length mirror. “Pepper and I have been over for years, I spend all my time at work, and if I'm being honest, I haven't met someone who's interested me in a while. If I had to get forced into marriage with somebody, I’m glad it was you. Now I’ll get to see you more than once a year, anyway,” he said to his soon-to-be husband in the reflection.
Rhodey didn’t look impressed. “You have a flying suit, too. You could come visit me on base. And I’m broken-hearted to know I was a safety choice,” he said dryly.
Tony leaned against a nearby vanity, slightly rumpling the perfect line of his wedding suit. “Come on, the whole team got hit by a supernatural fuck, marry, kill spell. Don’t act like your choices weren’t strategic.”
“My kill choice was strategic,” Rhodey admitted. “But the rest? I picked carefully, but I wouldn’t say strategically.”
“What are you saying?” Tony demanded. “Did you think I wouldn’t pick you for marry? Did we have a secret signal we made once while I was black-out drunk?”
Rhodey straightened his bowtie in his mirror and turned, walking toward the exit and straightening his cuffs. When he passed Tony, he leaned in close.
“Let’s just say I made smart choices, and I picked the right people,” he said quietly. With a mysterious smile on his face, he smoothed his hand down Tony’s arm before moving on. “I’ll see you out there.”
Tony remained where he was, in stunned silence, until the door started to swing shut behind Rhodey. Then he leaped away from the vanity.
“Wait, people?! As in more than one? What do you— who did you—?!”
He ran out of the studio after his future husband.