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Gansey woke up with a dry mouth and a pounding head, hanging halfway off a very nice bed with Ronan's sharp knees shoved against him. He groaned and immediately regretted it when it did nothing to help his head. The world above him was a blurry mess.
"Shut up," Ronan grumbled, faint and miserable and muffled. He sounded like he'd buried his face in a pillow.
"Did I die a third time?" Gansey wondered aloud, and then it was Ronan's turn to groan. Ronan twisted - why oh why was Ronan twisting - and then strong hands hauled Gansey back all the way onto the mattress. His glasses were pressed into his open palm. He fumbled them on just as Ronan fell sideways and face down across the mattress again.
"Oh no," he said, squinting as the ceiling spun. "No, that's not actually better at all. What did we drink last night?"
"Everything," Ronan mumbled into the sheets. "We drank everything."
"Never again," Gansey groaned, trying to figure out if leaving his glasses on or taking them back off was worse. The answer was, somehow, both. Something clacked against the frames. He pulled his hand back and squinted at it until it made sense. "I think I bought a ring."
A pause, and then Ronan lifted himself up on his elbows. The motion made Gansey feel like he was aboard a boat. A sinking boat. Possibly the Titanic.
"Weird," Ronan muttered, squinting down at his own hands. "I think I dreamed a ring."
There was something about that statement that floated just out of Gansey's reach. He put his head back down on the mattress, staring at his ring. It was nice, though not necessarily anything he would've purchased while sober. Simple, gold. Elegant, even. Why he ever would have put it on his ring finger, he didn't know.
He was never drinking again, and certainly not with a Lynch brother.
"Water," he decided, and spent the next two minutes dragging himself upright. Ronan muttered unkind things into the bedding. "Stop complaining, Lynch, we both need it."
"Fuck you," Ronan said without heat. Gansey gave his ankle an affectionate squeeze.
There was a knock at the door, loud and insistent and disturbingly cheerful. When the knocker remained undeterred by Ronan's shout for them to go away, Gansey managed to get his feet underneath him long enough to open the hotel room door.
Matthew was on the the other side, looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Gansey felt a hundred times more hungover just standing in his presence.
"Morning, G," he said, holding out his hand for a fist bump. He waltzed into the room and hopped onto the bed. He leaned his full weight on Ronan, who groaned miserably and tried to shove his brother off. Matthew just leaned back more. "Hey, pal. How're my favorite newlyweds this morning?"
Gansey and Ronan took the high road: they locked themselves in the bathroom while Matthew ordered room service and flipped through the TV.
Finding out he'd maybe married Ronan last night had a very sobering effect. His head still pounded, but it no longer spun, and he couldn't quite isolate one cause of his nausea anymore. Ronan let him take his hand, and he turned it over in his own; Ronan's ring against his.
They matched.
"Do you remember...?" he asked and Ronan shook his head, gaze fixed on their hands, Gansey's scholarly fingers overlapped with Ronan's and the rings glinting gold in the overhead light.
"No," he said, voice rough with some emotion Gansey couldn't decipher. "I would've said, man -"
"I know," Gansey said, too quickly. He reached up to grip Ronan by the shoulder, by the back of his neck, sliding his hand up against the bristle of his scalp. "I know you would've."
Ronan returned the gesture. His ring was warm from the heat of his skin. Gansey closed his eyes and pulled Ronan's forehead down against his own, just for a second.
"Jesus," Gansey said. "Married."
"It was a nice ceremony."
Gansey almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of Noah's voice.
Ronan, who had been facing the mirror, said, "He's been sitting there for five minutes, calm down."
Noah looked surprisingly solid, perched on the edge of their truly gigantic bathtub with his knees pulled up to his chin. He was solid to the touch, too. Gansey's hand landed on one cold knee.
"Noah, you were there?" he asked. "At the..."
The word 'wedding' stuck in his throat.
"Vegas has a lot of spiritual energy," Noah said, like that explained everything. He did look a little shimmery around the edges, the ends of his hair sparking neon when he turned his head. If Gansey squinted he could almost see him overlaid with all of Vegas's lights.
It was giving him a migraine.
"Why didn't you stop us, then?" Ronan demanded, throwing his hands up.
Noah shrugged, unbothered, as if his friends got drunkenly married in Sin City every day. "I think you might be asking a little too much of the dead."
Ronan made a noise deep in his throat Gansey thought might've been either a very hungover laugh or a very hungover snarl and tried to lunge. Gansey caught him around the waist, then thought better of it when the world spun dizzily. He slumped against the sink instead. It didn't matter; Ronan was too hungover to get very far.
"I'm going to be honest," Noah said, still perched on the edge of the bathtub, "and say that you two did not look nearly this bad last night."
Ronan groaned, sliding to the floor. "Noah."
"What?" Noah said, looking hurt. "It was nice! You were happy."
Happy. Gansey didn't doubt it. He had a flash, a maybe-memory - the warm press of Ronan against him, lips on his lips, a new strange weight around his finger.
His head spun.
His stomach rebelled.
"Jesus Christ," he gagged, falling to his knees in front of the toilet.
Matthew tapped on the bathroom door and said, "Not to break up the honeymoon, but the food's here. They brought complimentary champagne!"
"Never again, Lynch," Gansey promised himself, trying not to heave at the thought of more alcohol. "Never again."
Ronan flipped the toilet seat up and slid his fingers through Gansey's hair, tugging lightly, before he left the room.
A glass of water thunked down on the floor next to Gansey and cold fingers pressed soothingly against the back of his neck. He groaned in relief. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it," Noah said, rubbing his thumb in circles at the nape of Gansey's neck. "Sorry about Merlin, by the way."
Gansey nodded, eyes closed - and then Noah's words sunk in.
"Wait," he said. "What?"
They had been married by Merlin.
Matthew helpfully retrieved a DVD of the ceremony and Gansey watched in mute horror as a tall, unearthly pale man in a pointed hat, fake beard and wizard robe pronounced them husband-and-husband, 'til death or sobriety did they part.
On screen, last night's Ronan and Gansey clutched at each other to stay upright, nodding at everything Merlin said like it was of the gravest importance.
This morning's Ronan had laughed so hard he fell off the bed. Gansey could still hear him, lurking somewhere between the bed and the wall. Every so often Matthew nudged him with his foot and he would start cackling again, gasping, "Merlin. Was it my idea? I hope it was my idea."
"This is my favorite part," said Matthew, smiling brightly and kicking his brother in the ribs again. "Honestly, this is the best graduation present you guys could've given me."
On screen, last night's Ronan and Gansey were told they could now kiss the groom and they obeyed. Gansey's face felt a little warm watching it - something about the way last night's him cupped Ronan's cheek, the easy dangle of Ronan's arms over his shoulders. Maybe, Gansey thought, it was the way he laughed when they broke apart. The happy flush across their faces.
Matthew, standing with a couple Gansey didn't recognize, applauded. A smudgy spot on the screen that both was and wasn't there wiped away a tear.
"I always cry at weddings," Noah sighed, chin hooked over Gansey's shoulder so he could watch.
Gansey felt the bed shift. Ronan had pulled himself half up, head resting on his crossed arms on top of the mattress. His dark blue gaze was fixed on the screen, corner of his mouth quirked. When he caught Gansey staring neither of them looked away.
Matthew went back to his own room an hour later, after telling Ronan multiple times how happy he was that he was happy. Every time Ronan reached over, grabbed Matthew's face between his hands so his curls were matted down against his face, and said, "Knock it the fuck off, I am begging you."
Noah, sprawled on their bed, said, "I think it's nice that he's trying to give you guys some alone time. Do you want me to go? I kind of want to try the slot machines."
"Are you technically even allowed to gamble?" Gansey wondered aloud. He was lying shoulder to shoulder with Noah and gazing at the ceiling as if it might grant him some answers.
"I think it depends on how we count my age," Noah said, shrugging. "I just want quarters."
Gansey nodded and then, for the fifth time in twenty minutes, brokenly said, "Merlin."
Ronan snickered, agreeing, "Merlin. Fuck."
"Don't start again," Gansey begged him. "I don't think my heart can take it."
There was a trilling noise from across the room. It took Gansey's foggy brain a moment to realize it was his computer, brought for the sheer purpose of skyping Adam and left abandoned across the room for who knew how long. Since the night before, at the very least.
"Who is it?" Gansey asked, too tired to lift his head.
"How the fuck should I know?" Ronan asked, in a similar position.
"Answer it," said Noah in his knowing tone, prodding at Gansey thigh with his ice cube toes until Gansey managed to drag himself up off the bed.
He was glad he did.
Blue stared out at them from the screen, her hair in disarray like she'd just gotten up. Jetlag, Gansey thought, remembering that her flight back from Brazil had been only the day before. Then realized he had no idea what time it actually was. He seemed to be living outside it - there had been time before, he was fairly sure, but then he had gone and drunkenly hitched himself to Ronan Lynch in Las Vegas and as a result time had simply given up.
Blue looked half-tanned and half-surburnt and entirely happy, propped up on her old bed at 300 Fox Way with her chin on her hands and her bare feet swinging in the air.
"Hello, Jane," he said, smiling just at the sight of her.
Her eyebrows shot up.
"Hey, Mr. and Mr. Lynch," she said.
"How did you know?" he asked, then automatically glanced at Noah. Noah held his hands up in the air.
"I've been here the whole time," he said. To Blue, he added, "They're very boring newlyweds."
"Your mother?" Gansey asked, feeling somewhat queasy over the idea of Blue's mother somehow divining his drunken Las Vegas marriage. Blue rolled her eyes.
"Your mother, actually. Or her campaign anyway. For God's sake, Gansey, turn on a television," she said. "It's all over the news."
Ronan, who had been leaning against the bed and idly picking at his ring, turned wild eyes on Gansey.
"What," he said. Then, "No."
"Oh yes," Blue corrected.
Ronan swore viciously enough that Gansey winced and Noah looked impressed.
"Please, this is not worse than the time with the handcuffs," Blue scoffed, blithely ignoring the dirty look Ronan threw her way. "Seriously, though. Are you okay?"
Gansey traded a look with Ronan, who shrugged. He didn't look terrible. The shock subsiding, Gansey didn't feel terrible, either.
"As can be expected," he said.
Blue sighed, blowing a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Now, also seriously - E! won't tell me - what did you go with? Mr. and Mr. Gansey? Did you hyphenate?"
Gansey realized he didn't know. He looked to Ronan, who refused to be any help at all, and then to Noah, thankfully still around.
"You kept your own names," Noah said. "Ronan gave a whole speech about it. I think they cut it out of the video."
"Because of the language?" Blue guessed.
"Because of the language," Noah confirmed sadly.
"What kind of trophy wife do you think I am?" Ronan asked, rolling over to stare down Blue.
"You would take Adam's name," she accused archly. Ronan shrugged one shoulder, leaning heavily against Gansey's thigh.
"That's different," he said. Then, consideringly, "Parrish would have never let us be married by Merlin."
"Elvis, though," Blue said, grinning. She hummed a little bit of Blue Suede Shoes until Ronan made a disgusted noise, flopping backwards onto the bed.
"Fuck no," he said.
"Speak of the devil," Gansey said, glancing at the sidebar to find Adam online. He wasted no time adding him to the call. When Adam accepted he looked the opposite of Blue's sleepy contentedness - he looked like he'd spent days running on caffeine and tenacity. His hair stood up like he'd been pushing his fingers through it nonstop.
He had what Ronan had deemed 'asshole law student face' on. "I'll say it so you don't have to: I know."
"You have time to watch TV?" Ronan asked. Adam fixed him with a look both incredibly flat and incredibly fond.
"No," he said. "I've forgotten what that even is. I do have you on google alert, though. Seemed useful."
Ronan looked immensely pleased. "You say the sweetest things, Parrish."
"I try." Adam turned his gaze on Gansey. "Really? Married in Vegas?"
"You should've gone with them," Blue said. "Maybe you could've talked them out of it."
Adam made a doubtful noise.
"Or you'd have a ring on your finger too," Blue said.
"Could've put you in the Merlin outfit," Ronan said to Adam. Adam raised his eyebrows.
"I'd like to see you try."
Blue made a humming noise. "Did you know there's a biker themed wedding package? Oh, and Star Trek, of course. How could I have doubted. Maybe I'll elope with Noah."
"Noah's dead," Ronan pointed out.
"Noah's perfect," Blue corrected.
Noah preened.
"No Star Trek wedding," he said. Blue clucked her tongue.
"Can we focus?" Adam asked, though he looked like he already knew the answer to that one - or maybe like he wanted to hear more about the Star Trek wedding package. "You can get it annulled, right? Of course you can. Alright. It's not the end of the world. You'll get it annulled and everyone will forget as soon as some party scandal comes along."
"I love it when you talk political," Ronan said.
"Oh!" Blue said, sounding surprised and pleased. "With the Beach Party package you get carried down the aisle on a surfboard!"
Gansey's phone had been beeping steadily for the last hour. Now, with all his friends in one place, he finally felt up to the task of actually looking at it. Aside from a very long, slightly incoherent and only moderately misspelled - "it's these tiny keyboards" - congratulations from Malory and a handful of terse and subtly Ronan-directed texts from Declan, the majority of the messages were from Helen.
The latest message read: we have to talk about mom's campaign. call me back immediately dick.
He was fairly sure she'd meant that to be Dick, not dick, but her last five messages seemed increasingly snippy so he wouldn't have bet anything important on it.
"You okay?" Blue asked him. Her gaze drifted to the side - Gansey guessed that she and Adam were looking at each other on their respective screens. "Do you need us to come and get you?
"We're fine, Jane. We'll be home soon," he said, smiling at her and hoping it came off better than it felt. She gave him a look like she didn't believe him, like she wanted to reach through the screen and slip her slim fingers through his.
Instead, she said, "Well, lucky you, you've got Ronan there to comfort you."
Gansey called Helen back from the relative privacy of the bathroom.
"Really?" she said when she picked up. "That one?"
"Hello to you too," he said.
"You got married in Vegas during an election year," she said. "You don't get hello."
"I'm sorry, when I was at the altar I didn't exactly stop and think, no, better wait until after the polls have closed. We'll get it annulled, don't worry," Gansey said, leaning back against the door. Helen made an insulted noise.
"No you will not," she said. "Don't be ridiculous. This is workable."
It took a moment for the meaning of the words to sink in, and when they did the laugh that left Gansey was disbelieving. "You have got to be joking. My inebriated wedding is workable?"
"Of course it is," Helen said. "You're photogenic. It's young love. They're spinning it all very heartwarming and All American."
"Heartwarming? All American?" Gansey repeated, sneaking a glance Ronan's way through the sliver of the door. "Ronan?"
"Well," Helen said after a second. "They're trying, at least. The other one would've made it easier."
He was sure she'd meant Adam, since the only person who could've possibly made it more difficult than Ronan was Blue. He was filled with a sudden, fierce surge of love for them all, as complicated and impossible and marvelous as they were.
"You absolutely cannot annul it, Dick," she said.
"Not until after the polls close," he filled in, feeling his headache starting to seep back.
"Not until after the polls close," she confirmed.
She hung up after one more warning not to do anything without further instruction, and a brusque, "And for God's sake, don't go to Utah and marry the rest of them."
When he stepped back into the bedroom he found Noah and Ronan had dug up a pack of cards and were playing Go Fish long distance with Adam and Blue over skype. Something about Blue Sargent passionately declaring Ronan Lynch a cheater across thousands of miles warmed him straight through.
On the screen Adam put his cards down, his gaze fixed on Gansey. "Everything alright?"
"Given the circumstances," Gansey said, settling back down between Ronan and Noah. It was difficult, considering Noah was currently trying to grab Ronan's cards on Blue's request, but he managed it all the same.
"Don't keep us in suspense," Adam said.
"We can't get it annulled," Gansey said. Ronan's lip curled at the word 'can't' but not, Gansey noted, over the no annulment part. "My drunken gay marriage can be spun as youthful exuberance and it's all very inspirational as long as it appears sincere and not, you know..."
"Merlin-based," Blue suggested.
"Yes," Gansey said. "That."
He glanced at Ronan, unsure what reaction he would get, but Ronan seemed surprisingly calm. He tapped the back of his ring against his teeth, like he was testing it for real gold, and said, "Fuck Washington."
Adam snorted loudly.
Noah sighed. He was starting to fade out, gone all blurry around the edges. Gansey clapped a hand to his shoulder while he still could.
"Look at it this way," Noah said as he blinked out, his voice more the memory of a voice than anything heard, "at least you were already pretty ridiculously married."
Gansey had to admit that it was true. He had been a little ridiculously married to Ronan Lynch since they'd first met. He felt a little ridiculously married to all of them. Who better in the world to be tied to than these four?
"We were already a little married," Gansey said out loud, testing the feel of the words.
"You were already a lot married," Blue corrected, smiling. "But that's okay. We all are."
"Not us," Ronan said, gesturing between himself and Blue. Blue screwed up her face and rolled her eyes.
"God, no," she said, and hung up.
"Because that's absolutely something married people would never say to each other," Adam said, pushing one hand up into his hair. "Look, I have to go, I feel like I'm behind on everything - don't start." That last part was directed at Ronan's derisive snort. "I'll call back later. I'd say stay out of trouble, but it's not like you can get more married." He gave them one last considering look before he hung up, adding, "Maybe stay inside."
"Wise advice from a wise man," Gansey said, settling down on his stomach.
Ronan huffed a sigh, tapping out a violent beat half against the mattress and half against Gansey's ankle. He grabbed his hand to still it and ended up just holding it, his thumb sweeping back and forth across Ronan's ring.
"Regrets?" Gansey said.
Ronan turned to him, his stormy eyes searching. "Are you asking me or telling me?"
Gansey snorted, shaking his head.
"No," he admitted. "None. Not a one."
Ronan nodded, a slow, even motion. They lay there for a long moment, side-by-side, Ronan's fingertips pressed Gansey's ring finger. Then Ronan rolled over onto his side, regarding Gansey with a smirk.
"Okay," he said. "I've got one."
"Yes?" Gansey asked, already afraid for the answer.
"We should've gone with the Beach Party wedding."
