Work Text:
They’d never planned for this to happen. Then again, can anyone really plan for the end of the world as they know it? There are conspiracy theories, and there are survivalists, but no matter what they say or how hard they try, no one is ever prepared for the world to change this drastically. The human brain simply can’t comprehend such a thing until it happens. That was what Tamaki thought, anyway, as he went through the cupboards in his grandmother’s house looking for any canned goods he might have missed the first few times. Unfortunately, the shelves were still empty, just like last time he’d looked—and the time before that.
He smiled when Denki came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing the back of his neck. Denki always seemed to make things better. It was like he was the embodiment of sunshine. Even now, after they had spent months watching their friends and classmates slowly die off in front of them, he never failed to brighten Tamaki’s mood.
They had only been together a short time when the virus began to spread. Most of their relationship had been spent in crisis, and it was a good thing they worked well together. It was pure luck that they had both been immune to the virus. Tamaki was secretly relieved; after losing almost everyone—losing Mirio especially—he felt like he would not have survived losing Denki too.
“Whatcha up to?” Denki asked.
“Just seeing if there’s anything we might have missed,” Tamaki told him. “We’re going to have to move on soon when we run out of food.”
“You don’t feel ready.” Denki always knew how to get to the heart of matters.
“Yeah, but… so what? No one was ready for any of this, and none of them got a say in the matter,” Tamaki said, referring to their friends who hadn’t made it.
“This is your grandmother’s house,” Denki pointed out. “It’s okay to feel attached to it.”
“It’s not!” said Tamaki. “It’s selfish! What right do I have to be sentimental when so many people have lost their lives?”
He began to cry.
“Maki… look at me.” Denki turned him around gently so that they were facing each other. “Depriving yourself of your feelings won’t bring any of them back.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Tamaki admitted. “It just feels so unfair!”
“I know it does, Baby. That’s why I love you—because you think about things like that.”
Tamaki continued to shake in Denki’s arms, clinging to the last remaining person who could give him comfort. How could Denki always be so perfect? He was always there when Tamaki needed him.
🥃🎄
Hours later, Tamaki sat in his grandmother’s attic surrounded by dusty mementos of his childhood. There was the old video projector, and the Christmas decorations, and the hideous looking statue his grandfather had brought home as a gag gift. He had fond recollections of all of these things. None of them mattered now, nor would they ever matter again. Denki sat down to join him among the piles of clutter, seeming to sense the somber mood and for once staying quiet, simply being there, his presence an unwavering lifeline.
“We should go,” Tamaki said after a few minutes.
“There’s no rush,” Denki told him.
“What point is there in staying any longer?” Tamaki asked.
Denki shrugged. “You tell me. You’re the one who’s been sitting in the attic all morning.”
“I know,” Tamaki sighed. “I guess I just wanted one last look.”
“It makes sense. You feel safe here,” said Denki. “Did you have a good relationship with your grandmother?”
“We were very close,” Tamaki admitted. “In a way though I’m glad she was gone, before…”
He couldn’t finish the sentence.
“It’s good she was spared from all of it,” Denki agreed.
They sat in silence, the only sounds being the small groans and creaks that come with an old house.
“What’s that?” Denki finally asked, pointing to a trunk in the corner.
“I don’t know,” said Tamaki. “Probably just some old clothes or something.”
Denki walked over to the trunk and opened the lid.
“Yep! Clothes.”
He took out a couple of scarves and a pair of winter gloves.
“You know, maybe we should take some of this stuff. We don’t know where we’re going to end up and we might need to keep warm.”
“You’re probably right,” said Tamaki, joining him in going through the trunk.
They dug through the items and set aside several things that might be useful, until Tamaki’s fingers brushed against something light and silky. He pulled the fabric out of the trunk to see that it was a dress, old and faded.
“That looks like a wedding dress,” Denki said softly. “It must have been beautiful when it was new. I wonder how old it is?”
“It belonged to my grandmother,” said Tamaki. “I’d nearly forgotten about this. She wanted to pass it down to me, to have it altered for my future wife. That was before she knew I was gay.”
“That’s so sweet!” said Denki, wiping tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry I never got to meet her. Do you think she would have liked me?”
“She would have adored you,” said Tamaki with confidence.
Denki smiled at that.
“I want to try it on!” he said suddenly.
“Try what on, the dress?”
“Yes! I’ve always kind of wondered what it would feel like to wear one. How about it? Will you marry me?”
“Are you serious?” Tamaki asked, thinking Denki was playing some kind of game.
“Yes, I’m serious!” Denki insisted. “I love you.”
He proceeded to get down on one knee and take Tamaki’s hand.
“Tamaki Amajiki, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
“Oh my god!” Tamaki was blushing from head to toe. “Yes! Denki, I would love to marry you! But how? Where would we even find a priest?”
“We don’t need one,” said Denki. “Everything else has had to change, so why not this? New world, new rules.”
“Ha! I like that!”
“What better way to honor your grandmother, right? I don’t know if I believe in ghosts, but if they do exist, don’t you think she would want to see you get married?”
“And see someone wearing her wedding dress,” said Tamaki.
“It would be a perfect way to say goodbye to your grandmother’s house before leaving, don’t you think?” Denki continued. “We can make our own special memory.”
🥃🎄
Denki had gone to surprising lengths to make their ‘wedding day’ special. He’d pulled the holiday decorations down from the attic, finding some long evergreen garlands made of nylon and plastic. The archway leading into the kitchen ended up being the perfect place to hang them. To Tamaki’s amazement, Denki had even grabbed some old shaving cream from the bathroom, squirting it onto the garlands like imitation snow.
“The only thing that would make it better is lights,” he said, looking critically at his work. “It would be nice if we had some electricity.”
“It’s beautiful!” Tamaki assured him. “It’s so much more than I ever expected.”
“Wait right here,” Denki told him before disappearing into another room.
Several minutes went by and Tamaki was beginning to wonder where Denki had gone and whether he needed help. Just as he decided to go looking, Denki returned—wearing a long flowing dress that seemed to fit him perfectly.
“Wow,” Tamaki whispered. “You look beautiful!”
“You think so?” Denki asked, stopping to give a little twirl.
The dress had definitely seen better days. It was faded and the fabric was worn through in patches; there had been elaborate lace at some point, but it had begun to disintegrate. The dress was also about seventy years out of style. It didn’t matter though, because Tamaki was too in love to notice—besides, Denki could manage to look good in anything.
“Let me see you twirl again,” he said.
Denki obliged, holding out his arms and twirling like a figure skater. Tamaki scooped him up in his arms, the long dress trailing along the floor. Denki giggled and leaned in for a kiss, and as soon as their lips touched, Tamaki’s worries seemed to melt away. When he felt his arms about to give out, he reluctantly set Denki back down on the floor.
“Oh! We don’t have any rings!” Denki exclaimed.
“Hmm. I have an idea,” said Tamaki, remembering something he had seen in a movie.
He went into the kitchen and found a glass, wiping the dust off of it with his shirt. Then he grabbed the unopened bottle of gin he had seen earlier, glad they finally had a use for it. It took a moment of digging around in the kitchen drawer to find a corkscrew, and once he did, he popped the cork triumphantly, pouring the liquid into the glass.
“Here,” he said, bringing the glass of gin back to Tamaki. “I saw this in a movie once where instead of having rings, the couple drank from the same glass.”
“That’s such a cute idea!” Tamaki nearly squealed with excitement.
“Alright, how do you want to do this?” Tamaki asked. “I wish I had something nice to wear, so I could match you.”
“We can pretend,” said Denki.
“You mean make believe like little kids do?”
It made a strange sort of sense.
“Yeah! Play make-believe with me!” said Denki, but then his smile suddenly faded. “Unless… you don’t want to. Maybe it’s a silly idea.”
Denki losing his smile nearly broke Tamaki’s heart. He hadn’t meant to sound so skeptical.
“It’s fine!” he said quickly, trying to reassure. “I mean… I want to. It sounds fun.”
“Really?” Denki looked hopeful.
“Really. I just don’t know how to start, if that makes sense.”
Denki’s face brightened up at that.
“Oh, that’s easy!” he said. “You’re an elf prince in a foreign land, about to marry your beloved. You’re dressed in a purple silk tunic with a high collar, adorned with fur lined bracers. You have a cape, and it’s crystal clear, and shimmers with magic.”
“Hey, you’re pretty good at this!” Tamaki complimented. “What else?”
“I’m wearing a beautiful snow colored gown handed down by the high priestess herself,” Denki continued. “It’s trimmed with fur at the top, and just a little revealing, but not too much.”
“Okay. I like where this is going.”
“It’s a winter wedding but we’re not freezing, because elves don’t get cold. We stand beneath the snow covered boughs in the sacred forest—“
He took Tamaki’s hand, and guided him underneath the arch, which was covered in cheap Christmas decorations and shaving cream.
“There are magical lights all around, and the snow is breathtaking.”
“You’re breathtaking,” Tamaki told him, and the imagery Denki had described was so vivid, Tamaki couldn’t help but see it along with him.
“We’re here by ourselves, to pledge our lives to one another, because elves don’t need witnesses or priests. Elves are their own masters who answer to no one, except the very spirits of nature itself.”
Denki gave another little twirl, really getting into the role.
“Then let the trees witness our union,” said Tamaki, trying to sound serious and project his voice as he joined in. “May we never part, in life or in death.”
He held out his hand and gave a little bow, playing the part perfectly. Denki took his hand and together they stood under the limbs of the winter forest, and Tamaki picked up the glass he had set aside.
“Denki Kaminari, I love you with all of my heart,” he announced, making up vows on the spot that were somewhat inspired by movies and books. “If you will have me, I vow to nurture and protect you, and to keep on loving you, no matter what hardships we may face, until the end of time.”
He held the glass in between them, searched his memory for the right phrase.
“May you never thirst.”
Denki accepted the cup and took a sip, making a face at the bitterness of the gin.
“Tamaki Amajiki, I accept your vows. I will allow you to nurture and protect me, as you say, but only if you will accept the same in turn, for I vow to nurture and protect you as well.”
Tamaki was absolutely floored at how quickly Denki had picked up and improvised on the lines, without even a hint of hesitation. Then again, Denki always was good at that sort of thing.
“I also vow to keep on loving you, no matter what lies ahead, because you’ve already stolen my heart.”
Denki’s voice cracked on the last couple of words as he began to tear up.
“May you never thirst,” he concluded, his lower lip trembling with the effort of holding himself together.
He held out the glass and Tamaki accepted and drank from it, trying to ignore the burn and keep from choking. He handed the glass back to Denki, placing his own hands over Denki’s as if it had been rehearsed.
“Denki, I love you so much,” Tamaki whispered, leaning forward just enough to kiss the top of Denki’s head while they held the glass between them.
Despite the obvious make-believe, the marriage part felt real. Tamaki felt a connection with Denki that he had never felt with anyone else, and marrying him only seemed natural. Whether they would survive long enough for that to mean anything to the rest of the world remained to be seen, but until then, it would certainly mean something to them.
Tamaki took the glass from Denki and set it down, then pulled him in close and kissed him again, this time on the lips. Time seemed to stand still as Denki kissed him back. In that moment, it didn’t matter that they lived in a world that had become a hellscape, where everyone they knew was dead. It didn’t matter that they were standing in his grandmother’s abandoned house, with no running water and no electricity as it literally crumbled around them. Here and now, with just the two of them, newly married—everything felt absolutely perfect.
🥃🎄
They lay in each other’s arms that night in the large antique bed that had once belonged to Tamaki’s grandmother. It had gotten late, so they had decided to stay one more night in the house, and planned to leave first thing in the morning.
“There isn’t anyone I’d rather have by my side right now,” Tamaki whispered, kissing Denki for what felt like the hundredth time that day.
“Really?” Denki asked. “Not even Mirio?”
Tamaki was silent for a moment—long enough that Denki said, “oh no! That wasn’t fair! Maki, I’m so sorry!”
“It’s okay,” Tamaki told him, and he meant it. “Even if none of this had ever happened, and we were living normal lives and going to college, I’d still have chosen you. Mirio would have liked you, I’m sure of it—he would have teased us, but he would have also been happy for us. I really believe we were meant to be together, no matter what.”
“Like soul mates,” said Denki, smiling again.
“Yeah,” Tamaki agreed. “Like soul mates. I meant what I said in my wedding vows.”
“You said you’d always love me, no matter what hardships we face,” said Denki, recalling the words.
“That wasn’t all of it,” Tamaki pointed out.
“Oh?” Denki furrowed his brow, trying to remember. “What was the rest?
“Until the end of time,”
Until the end of time…
art by StephyBurro
