Work Text:
„Calm down, you‘re making me nervous.“
„I am making you nervous?!“ Teresa stared at the blond with bewildered expression and he only puffed another shot from his cigarette, staring out to the distance while standing at the porch.
„With all that pacing around and freaking out.“
„You‘re the groom, you should be freaking out!“ she hollered, throwing her arms to the air and Newt inhaled even longer. The wind caught the smoke immediately, changing it into abstract shapes until it vanished.
Freaking out?
He wasn’t freaking out. He was terrified. He thought his heart couldn’t hammer any louder, he barely heard or understood what Teresa was saying, and her nervousness and constant fussing around made it even worse. Not even cigarettes helped, and he already smoked 4. He paced, he sat, he tried to make himself busy, but nothing helped.
The wedding was in 2 hours and he had the biggest crisis in his life. He adored Thomas, he relished the idea to spend the rest of his bloody life with the guy, but he was also a realist and all those unhappy thoughts of cold facts and experiences he saw all around – he wasn’t so sure anymore. But he also was. It was confusingly indecisive and absolutely maddening.
They were getting ready for this big thing for four months of preparations. They managed to almost break up, get a cat, drag some unwanted skeletons out of the wardrobe and realize them meeting and colliding was probably the best thing that could happen to either of them. Newt couldn’t even describe how deep down he was with Thomas included, without sounding like a cheap romance novel. Of course, bad habits and character traits were on the board too, things that made him crazy when Thomas kept on doing them (messiness with eating and dropping clothes all over the place, commenting every movie they watched out loud – although here was Newt at the blame too, because he always had a snarky comment ready when the scene got ridiculous – leaving huge, possessive marks at super visible places as if he was playing a game of “would Newt notice first or someone else?”, and all kind of smaller, stupider things that sometimes got on his nerves). But he was pretty sure he wasn’t any better with his own quirks. His bad sleeping diminished a lot, but it was still present and sometimes he just got cranky because of it and Thomas had to deal with him. He kept on scolding the writer as a kid about small things, even when it included feeding Tenda shitty junk food, which always made Thomas to roll his eyes and do it anyway (which led to a pointless quarrel).
It wasn’t anything major, nothing that would made them say: fuck this, I can’t be with such person any longer. Newt called it a “catalyst”, it could lead them to either a long laugh or a long argument. Profound, slow love making or angry, fast sex (Newt liked both of the versions, but he rather kept to himself that pushy, super dominant and maybe a little forceful Thomas was turning him on even more. He wouldn’t want to have angry sex all the time, but sometimes it was a really nice change of Thomas’ almost worshipping approach).
They were together for almost 3 years now. And they were getting married. The clock was ticking and Newt was out of cigarettes.
***
“Do you think it’s gonna be a disaster?” Newt asked a little fidgety when they were standing at the parking lot, checking the area for a familiar car.
“Oldies meeting? Nah, I’m pretty sure they are going to love each other,” Thomas squeezed his hand tighter, but his lips were a thin, worried line. “Maybe to death.”
“Oh my god,” the blond groaned, hiding his face into Thomas’ shirt, ready to weep already. “You should have at least done a skype call before or something. Meeting your parents on a wedding day is atrocious.”
“I just didn’t want to ruin your day with them,” Thomas kissed top of his head softly. “They are like two hyenas, waiting for a sign of weakness.”
“I’m crying already.”
“At least your parents are cool?” the writer opposed with a happier tone. “I’m sure your momma is going to tame the two mad dogs of mine.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Newt grumbled. “You need to make even a better impression than you did in England you know. So you outweigh the bad taste your parents may leave.”
“I’ll be the sweetest soon-to-be-hubby you ever saw,” Thomas chuckled, the worry in his tone almost gone.
“You’re lucky they already adore you,” the blond mumbled. “I feel like I’m falling behind at this department.”
“You’re blessed,” Thomas nudged him with his shoulder. “Not meeting them until you really have to is amazing.”
“Just weird,” Newt concluded. “What am I going to say? ‘Hey, I’m Newt, we never met before but I’m going to marry your son and be part of your happy family, so let’s have lunch maybe?’. Sounds like a death sentence.”
“Sounds brilliant,” Thomas laughed quietly. “They are going to love you. If not. I will make them love you. Easy.”
“I’ve changed my mind, let’s break up,” the blond started to wriggle, but Thomas tightened his hold and chased his lips with his, kissing him soundly.
“I love you,” he whispered, as if he was jinxing him. “You’re going to be fine. You are you after all. Kickass and all that.”
“I have bad shoes for kicking at the moment,” Newt uttered, and snorted when Thomas actually looked down, eying his red converse appreciatively.
A loud honk shocked them so much they jumped from each other as burned (some sick, deeply rooted reflex as if they were still doing something wrong and no one should have seen them), staring at the black SUV that stood two meters in front of them. The door opened right after, revealing a frowny man in his 50’s or so, looking deeply unsatisfied with the situation. Newt wanted to hide somewhere and die.
“Are you going to stand there and block the path or make us a space so we can greet you properly?” he asked them in a deep, sound voice and Newt dragged his fiancé out of the way, casting his eyes down in shame.
The car started riding again, parking neatly at a free spot, despite being it such a big vehicle. He door opened for the second time, this time from both sides, and Newt unconsciously gripped Thomas hand as if in a spasm. He felt how Thomas started rubbing his knuckles with his thumb, a strangely endearing gesture, and it made his body relax a little at least.
The frowny man hopped out of the car again, dragging a suitcase out of the boot, and from the other side a pretty brown haired lady appeared, with big brown eyes, so much alike Thomas. She was elegant and every detail seemed perfectly styled.
He wanted to let go of Thomas hand to let him to go greet them, but the writer didn’t ease his grip and stayed at the spot stubbornly.
“Seems like a nice place,” the woman spoke up, more to the man than to them, and took her handbag from the car, closing the door. Then she finally looked at the couple, her eyes searching and a little criticizing, and Newt could hear his heart picking up the speed.
“Hello,” she greeted them finally, stepping closer and offering her tiny hand. Newt immediately wriggled out of Thomas’ hold and shook her hand as delicately as possible.
“Hey, welcome,” he croaked, his throat suddenly refusing to work. “Glad you made it.”
“It’s our only son’s wedding,” she replied a little icily (“Was it an admonition about me making him gay or something?”). “Of course we did.”
“Too bad the invitation didn’t get lost in the post office,” Thomas muttered as a reply and Newt stopped the groan that crawled its way up.
“I’m Newton,” he rather introduced himself, even that they already knew who he was. “But call me Newt.”
“Newton sounds better,” she said simply. “So are we going to stand here and reflect on our past deeds or are you actually inviting us over?”
God, this is already bad.
“Yeah, sorry, let’s go up,” he stuttered nervously and pulled at Thomas’ shirt to follow him.
Ten more hours remained to the wedding and he already felt like it was going to end in tears. He just wasn’t sure whose.
***
“You look like a shit, Blondie.”
Newt stopped his pacing and turned towards Brenda standing at the door. She looked sharp, a perfectly fitting smart suit with a thin red tie, fedora on her head and she even had a pocket clock peeking out with a chain hanging from it. She didn’t forget the red lipstick though and it made her look dangerous. He was happy in the end he let her to take care of the whole thing, the 1920’s/gangster style suited the wedding like glove, and she even insisted on dressing both “grooms” so they “fit”. Newt was only happy she was this good and the suit was comfortable and good looking, because spending so many hours in itchy clothes that strained him would make him jump out of his skin already. She insisted on him having his sleeves rolled up though, and leave out the vest, saying it was more “gangster” style for him. He didn’t protest.
“Do I?” he sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I prolly do.”
“Having second thoughts?” she asked, slowly approaching, her shoes clicking over the floor rhythmically.
“Not really,” he mumbled. “I just… I’m not sure suddenly or something?”
“Cute,” she grinned and it made him frown at her, reprimanding. That wasn’t helpful at all. “It’s completely normal, you know.”
“Is it?” he frowned, not really liking that implication.
“I think it’s stupid,” she shrugged. “With one paper nothing is gonna change you know. You’ll only have to call him husband in front of the higher places. But it changes shit between you. You won’t suddenly feel better or worse. You’ll just get a different title and a status change in your citizen card.”
He hummed in agreement. Of course he knew those things. He always thought marriage was actually overrated, before Thomas asked him. But standing here, in the suit, commencing the marriage in 1 hour and half – it felt different, no matter what she said or he thought before. It was like saying “I do” meant consenting to an unbreakable blood oath or something. Children sacrificing, dancing naked in the forest under the moon, that kind of stuff.
An unbreakable bond.
“That didn’t really help, huh,” she crossed her arms on her chest and Newt shook his head.
“So what are you afraid of?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled.
“Try.”
“That it’s not going to last?” he voiced the loudest, scariest fear that occupied his mind like a moth flying around the flame. “That we’ll stop being in love? That a stereotype sets in? That he’ll stop liking me?”
“Divorce is not a witchcraft,” she said simply.
“And that’s scary,” he sighed. “We invested so much of ourselves in this. And in the end we would just sign another paper and it’ll wipe out all those years together?”
She watched him quietly, her expression unreadable, and Newt bit his lower lip, his hands were shaking again. He would kill for a cigarette.
***
“There are our husbands!” a loud squeal sliced the air and Newt cringed. His mom ran out of the car happily, leaving her husband to park it wherever and pounced at both of them like a rocket, hugging them with surprising strength for such thin woman. “God, you two look gorgeous already! I can’t wait!”
“Mom…” he whined, but Thomas grinned like mad, hugging her back.
“Great to see you again, Val,” he greeted her happily and she patted his cheek. “Hope there were no problems on the road?”
“Mike complained about slow drivers, but other than that it was fine,” she winked. “He couldn’t even sleep how eager he was to get here!”
“Don’t trust that woman, she is exaggerating,” Newt’s dad appeared right after, two suitcases in his hands. The pink one definitely suited him. “I was up late because there was Terminator on TV.”
“Riiiight,” she smiled sweetly at him and Newt rolled his eyes. He could totally see his father pacing around the flat, counting minutes until he could get the show on the road.
“So!” the woman finally let them breathe and stepped away. “Are you excited?! You are soon to be husbands, oh my god! So sweet, I can’t take the long wait, oh my.”
“You’re like Ally,” Newt grumbled. “I’m still half deaf from the squealing about the wedding day.”
“Is she already here?” Newt’s mom (or Val, how Thomas affectionately called her) looked surprised and Newt shook his head. His sister and the army of hellspawns were on the way, but he thought it was going to take them two more hours at least.
“Good, wanted to beat her to it,” Val giggled like a school girl and Newt groaned for real this time. His family was going to be a death of him, that for sure. From the visit in England Thomas “forced” on him it was like they decided Newt was never going off the hook ever again, and called as often as they could, making him nervous.
Having the full concentration of them at one place was probably going to end up in an explosion of some sort.
In 8 hours.
***
“Once Thomas latches onto something, he doesn’t let go until it’s really, really bad for him. And even that takes hella of time.”
“Like she did,” Newt mumbled and Brenda took him around his shoulders, shook him gently.
“He is head over heels for you,” she said in a serious tone. “And it’s scary to say, but it’s even worse than when he was all after her. I don’t want to put pressure on you, Blondie, but if you left him, he would just crumble and that’s the end.”
Newt felt a shiver dancing around his spine. If Thomas left him, he would crash and burn for sure. That’s how deep it was, and that’s also what was so frightening about it. A weird bond held them together, a gravity field that made them like magnets, constantly drawn to each other no matter the circumstances.
What would it take for them to actually break apart? To wipe those fields, to cripple the bond? The marriage seemed like a seal, something that would make it official and more serious. And Newt was shaking like a leaf from the fact, excited and eager, and scared and insecure.
“What did you say when he proposed?” she asked suddenly and Newt snorted.
“That he’s a bloody bastard.”
“Neat,” she grinned, patting his back appreciatively.
“I said yes,” he sighed after.
“Without hesitation?”
“Without hesitation.”
She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder.
“I think you’re ready for it. You’re a good egg,” she spoke after a moment and Newt smirked.
“You’re a good hen.”
***
“This place is amazing!” Val jumped happily when they entered the flat and not even the presence of the two people she didn’t know stopped her. “So comfy, like a love nest.”
“It’s small,” Thomas’ mother suddenly joined the conversation and Newt cringed internally. Here it went. The collision. “If they wanted kids-,”
“Kids? Did you forget he is a guy too?” Thomas’ dad pointed at Newt probably too accusingly and Newt could see how Thomas’ jaw clenched painfully, his whole body going rigid, ready to fight. He quickly took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
“If you forgot, there are kids without home too,” Thomas’ mom shot back, a surprising notion Newt hadn’t expected from her. He saw his own mom nod in agreement and it was question of seconds before she dragged the other woman to the kitchen, starting a long-ass talk about stuff Newt was afraid to ask about.
Two remaining man decided to watch football, which was a little anticlimactic, but Newt sighed in relief and led still a little rigid Thomas to the bathroom. He knew very well how to get rid of the unwanted tension after all.
There was still 7 hours until the wedding.
***
“Can you tie a knot?!” Minho burst through the door and Alby jumped so high Newt almost fell over laughing. The Asian looked dangerously handsome with the striped smart-suit, but his tie was a mess and Newt couldn’t stop the giggles coming up his throat.
“Stop laughing, this is serious!” Minho whined, his hands frantic. “If Brenda sees me like this I’m dead, oh my god, help.”
Newt couldn’t even answer for how hard he was laughing, but Alby took a pity on the man and tied the tie back properly, tucking it neatly under the waistcoat.
“Saviour,” the Asian sighed in relief, patting the knot carefully. “You are too nice, seriously. Not like this hiccupping mess, stop crying! Leave it for my wedding speech.”
“You are not t-talking during that!” Newt tried to sound menacing, but it failed miserably, and Minho only smiled sweetly at him, apparently not taking him seriously at all.
“I practised the speech all day, you can’t stop me,” he winked at him and then focused back on Alby. “See ya later, best man.”
“And you, best man,” Alby replied with a nod and Newt thought he should be terrified after all, just for a different reason.
The wedding was in 1 hour.
***
Ally and her hellspawns arrived in full number, along with her hilariously reluctant husband. Newt couldn’t stop the snort coming up to him when he saw him again; this man was a jewel, for real. He just hadn’t put one and one together until the invitation for the wedding came, and then told his wife with the adorable innocence: “I thought they are just roommates and one of them slept on the couch.”
Ally made fun of him for a week, now was Newt’s turn. Except the twins kept him busy with him being a princess and Thomas being a prince Charming saving him from a dragon (Thomas’ mother who gave him The talk). Thomas actually did save him, shooing his parent away and to be perfectly clear about it, he also smacked him the most obnoxious kiss ever, making the little girls giggle, Ally’s hubby stare like struck with lightning, Val goes “awww” and two older men shout “gooaaaaaaaal!” when their team scored.
The wedding was in 5 hours.
***
Newt refused to be led to the altar like a bride. He refused his father, he refused his mom and he kicked Minho in the shin. He had this long talk with Thomas about the proceedings and he insisted he was against either of them being treated like a woman. Thomas agreed, even though he admitted he wanted to try the “waiting at the altar thing, going speechless when you appear”.
But they settled on normal proceedings, both of them at the altar, starting up from there, even that Minho and Teresa protested the loudest. Newt just flipped them off.
***
And now he was there. Standing at the altar, in front of his fiancé, trying to calm his heart and even his breathing. Thomas was stunning. He couldn’t say anything less cheesy about him – he just looked amazing. The suit Brenda picked for him fit him perfectly, and it finally made sense why she insisted on rolled up sleeves for Newt – Thomas matched to a top notch. All the details she picked up, even the fact Thomas had the waistcoat and Newt didn’t (he felt there was a hidden meaning in there somewhere), it all played out like a fine set of puzzles coming together flawlessly. Newt almost lost it when Thomas first saw him there, the look of pure adoration and love was so strong it magnified the gravity of them to an unbearable level.
Newt almost didn’t hear what was the guy behind the altar saying (he decided to call him the guy, because Minho started it and the face the guy made after hearing it was too funny to pass), for how caught up he was in his own jumbled emotions while staring at the writer in front of him.
It woke up when he heard his own name being called, and the fated question followed.
“Do you?”
Do I?
He took a deep breath, his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest.
Joining my life with this man. Until the death do us apart.
Thomas’ face changed suddenly, a sign of fear and doubt when he stared back at Newt. Such expression didn’t suit him, it was the worst thing to see on him ever. Insecurity and unhappiness.
No. I want to make him the happiest person alive.
Newt didn’t even try to get his emotions under check anymore and when his body surged forward and pressed his lips on worried curve of Thomas’ mouth, he could hear the gasps all over the room, as well from the writer himself. It took him a second only to respond though, kissing back hungrily, and Newt had never been so sure in his life.
“I do,” he whispered to his lips lovingly and Thomas face broke into the widest, happiest smile ever.
“The kissing part usually comes after the promise,” the guy pointed out a little taken back and Newt chuckled, casting him an apologetic glance and stepping to his spot again, smiling at Thomas, whose hand lingered a bit longer before actually letting go.
He could hear Minho snickering all the way to the altar, but left him to it, relishing the sound of Thomas’ “I do” resonating through the hall.
“Now you may kiss,” the guy said with a sigh and he didn’t need to tell them twice.
***
Minho was banned from speaking after the first sentence of his best man speech (“Let me get this straight, oh wait, this is a gay wedding-,” “Fuck off, Minho, sit your ass down!”), and they rather left it to Alby who actually got the shit done and talked nicely. Minho had smart remarks through the whole thing, but he yelped after each when Teresa next to him stepped on his foot repeatedly.
Both mothers of the newlywed husbands cried in unison, exchanging baby stories of them. Thomas dad tried to keep stony face and unapproachable aura, and Newt’s dad kept on making everyone drink and celebrate (he especially liked Brenda, because she was a bottomless pit and could keep up with him). Ally and her family danced the first moment they could and Newt with Thomas got dragged at the dance floor as well, living through the obligatory first dance with constant laughter.
They changed partners so many times Newt was happy the weather was so nice and his leg didn’t act up, or he wouldn’t be able to stand any more. Teresa was weeping into his jacket the whole dance it was ridiculous, Brenda almost crushed him in the happy embrace and insisted on leading, Minho kept on stepping on his toes and claiming he it was accident, and Alby didn’t really dance, although Clara did (surprising, but he didn’t mind, she was actually really nice). When they finally could sit back down, both were out of breath, but smiley, and Thomas couldn’t keep his hands to himself – holding Newt’s hand, rubbed his back, wrapped arms around his waist, his shoulders, or ran his fingers through his hair, nuzzling his cheek like an affectionate cat.
It was an amazing and long day and night and Newt never felt happier. His life was now complete.
***
Newt couldn’t keep up. He tried, he really, really tried, but the pace was maddening and his body refused to do anything else than take, take, take. Thomas was insatiable. The first thing he did when they finally reached their room was slamming Newt against the door and kissing the air from his lungs, not leaving any possibility to take over or at least get on his level. No, he made Newt a writhing mess on the bed, stripped him so fast the blond doubted he was still human, and buried himself so deep it stole all the breath away from him. It was desperate and aggressive, but full of love and eagerness and Newt could only scramble for something to steady himself and enjoy the ride.
His breath was coming out in shallow doses, along with hearty moans and pleas and Thomas always angled so good it hit him at the right place over and over and over again.
“God, you’re k-killing me,” he cried out at another thrust it almost lift him up and his spine arched in pleasure. Thomas caught his fingers and sucked them into his mouth, licking and biting and making Newt crazy with want.
“You’re mine now,” the writer’s voice rumbled richly and Newt groaned as if it hit him even deeper than the writer himself. “Only mine.”
“Yes,” he bit out in between moans. “Y-yes, I am.”
“I’ll never let go,” Thomas bit his ear and Newt cried out again, his body so deliciously tense. He wanted to lock his legs around the man’s hips, but Thomas caught him and suddenly pulled them more apart, hitting him unmercifully even deeper and stronger. Newt felt his body matched the rhythm perfectly, allowing the intrusion without any fight, more, faster, yes, yes, yes.
He yelped when Thomas moved his legs again, this time throwing them on his shoulders, lifting Newt up a little to accommodate him, and the blond lost it completely. He was being insistently pushed further and further his previously set borders and he loved it. Thomas was never so thorough with him like today, so strong yet loving, no real anger, only want and pure need.
“Tommy-,”
“Me too,” Thomas nodded frantically, his hips stuttering, and Newt pulled his legs away again and dragged his husband down for a filthy kiss, all tongue and messiness. The double intrusion did it for him and he came so hard it almost sent him back into unconsciousness. Thomas followed right after with Newt’s name on his lips, and if the blond wasn’t so spent, he would probably come again just from the sound of it.
Thomas crashed atop of him like a death weight and Newt circled his arms around his back and kissed the top of his damp hair.
“I love you,” he whispered adoringly. “Husband.”
“I love you,” Thomas replied with a sob that turned into a happy chuckle. “My husband.”
Yes, marriage was only on a paper for most of the people.
For the two of them? A never-ending promise of love.