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“You’re certain I look absolutely fine?” Gale asked his husband in the mirror, who sat with his arms crossed in the plush armchair directly behind him.
Astarion gave him a once-over, his thorough gaze lingering on the white boutonniere nestled close to his heart. The violet-colored jacket laid delicately over a similar colored vest, 4 sets of shining golden buttons trailing up the fabric. The white colored shirt underneath made the color pop, and the tie was printed with various cool colored perennial flowers.
Astarion stood, straightening out his own similarly styled scarlet colored jacket and approached the other man. Reaching out, he adjusted the flower arrangement clipped to his jacket to be more upright. “You do now, if you strolled out there with this bit all a mess I would have had to return you.”
Gale grinned, his face warm with affection. “I’m afraid I’m well past my expiration date for returns, my love.”
There was a soft chuckle coming from the other man, but Astarion was well in tune with his lover’s slivers of insecurity. The past twenty years have been some of the best of his life, filled with constant reassurance for his own insecurities related to his past.
Astarion cupped Gale’s face with his hands, fingers carding through a grey beard and thumbs stroking the lines around his eyes. If you asked Astarion, these lines should be worn with pride, as it is evidence of continued smiles and laughter.
It was beautiful.
“You are beautiful.” Astarion says, pressing a kiss to his husband’s nose. He pulled Gale to his chest and saw his own reflection staring back in the mirror over his love’s shoulder.
He was also not without signs of living. His white-blonde hair was now just white, his snowy hair once soft now slightly wiry with age. The lines of living had painted themselves across his own face just as it had done Gale.
Gale didn’t seem to care.
Astarion was going to make sure Gale knew he didn’t care, either.
Pulling away, he looked into sweet brown eyes that held nothing but love for him. Astarion desperately hopes his own holds the same level of affection, for there was not much he wouldn’t do for those brown eyes. That included adopting Gale’s daughter as his own after a messy divorce that left his husband devastated and broken. Astarion had never much cared for children, they were annoying and unruly. Too messy. Too loud. Too clingy.
There was such an overarching reluctance to continue seeing Gale at first as soon as he mentioned his kid. He signed up for a hot date with a recently divorced dark and handsome man looking for a few quick hookups to blow off steam. He did not sign up for a man with incredible baggage, one that wasn’t even potty trained yet, to be exact.
So, he used to think.
He couldn’t imagine his life without them now. He had watched her grow up, and she was now poised to be married.
Astarion pressed his forehead against Gale’s, somehow hoping it would convince the man in front of him to release his doubts. “You are a ridiculous man if you think after all these years, I would see you as anything but beautiful. But it’s more than that, really. You’ve given me more than I could have ever hoped for, dreamed of even. It’s far better than any other fantasies I’ve conjured up.”
Astarion heard a shaky sigh leave his husband.
Gale spoke softly, a tender moment of vulnerability. “I just hope I’ve been enough for her, and you. I know I’ve made mistakes, and I- mmph!“
Astarion hushed his husband with a quick kiss. He pulled back, his arms trailing down Gale’s tanned skin and he took both his hands in his own.
“None of that now. You know damn well they all adore you. I adore you.” Astarion gave his hands a reassuring squeeze, “now get out there and walk your daughter down the aisle.”
Gale nodded; his cheeks tinged slightly pink. Astarion didn’t see much of that anymore since they had grown comfortable with each other, so seeing it now made his chest ache with tenderness.
“Our daughter,” Gale said softly.
Astarion used to pride himself as someone who couldn’t be moved by simple words. It took more than that. Two little words have managed to creep up and shatter the bars he held across himself, yet again. Gale’s words always do, because they are always spoken truthfully and sincerely.
Gale is never insincere.
Astarion took a step back, checking himself in the mirror. “Let’s quickly join the wedding party, darling, before I am subjected to anymore blows to my heart. I can only handle so much before I start affectionately biting you.”
Gale’s eyebrows raised, “if that is the case, allow me to shower you with more sweet words and praise.”
Astarion side eyed his husband and leaned over to give him a playful nibble on the ear. “That’s all you’re getting, you needy thing.”
Gale chuckled, tilting his head. “One moment with you would be enough to sate me for a lifetime.”
Astarion groaned, “that’s enough, get yourself out to that cathedral or I’ll drag you there myself.”
“If I am to know you as well as I think I do, you love me doting on you.”
“That’s beside the point!”
“That’s exactly the point, my love.”
Astarion stared at Gale’s face, brightly lit with mirth. Gone was the insecurity from before. He used to make fun of people who said they ‘loved so much it hurt’, but as with all things in life, sometimes you just don’t know until you experience it for yourself. It was some mixture of nausea and chest pain, like a heart attack he guesses.
Astarion ushered Gale towards the door, “you know, I hope I never develop heart problems.”
Gale looked up in alarm, “Heart problems?! Dear God, Astarion. We are only in our fifties, why are you worrying about heart problems suddenly?”
“Because it never beats quite right around you. I don’t think I’d be able to tell the difference between a medical emergency or one of your signature sappy lines.”
Gale let out a belly laugh at that, and Astarion savored the sound.
They ventured through the hallways adorned with beautifully crafted archways and stained-glass windows. Their suede dress shoes tapped pleasantly on the marble floors and echoed around them as they approached the wedding party.
The crowd of wedding participants parted, and there Angela was, elegant and beautiful. She stood nervously watching as people prepared themselves to enter the cathedral. The long brown hair he used to comb every night and put up every morning before school was now piled high in a delightful updo that they had picked out together in a wedding magazine. Astarion had helped her pick her dress too, having their own little runway show and laughing themselves to tears, nearly getting thrown out of the boutique. Her eyes were bright and misty, and he remembers those same eyes looking up at him and asking him for butterfly kisses before bed, and he'd flutter his eyelashes against her cheek before kissing it. Her sweet little giggles would forever live in his memories.
She turned to them, and it seemed her anxiety had melted. “Oh, I was getting worried! Thought you two maybe had developed cold feet!”
Astarion laughed, “I believe the runaway bit is reserved for the bride or groom, not the father of bride.”
Gale interjected, “I was tempted to run away after I saw the bill for the catering. Outrageous! I could have purchased and cooked a meal tenfold for that price gauging. And don’t get me started on the choices.”
Angela and Astarion both gave Gale a similar disapproving look.
“Oh, there you two go again teaming up on me. I can’t even complain about the lack of hors d'oeuvres available without those disapproving looks.”
Astarion shook his head. “Hors d'oeuvres darling? Really? You’re complaining about the price of the catering yet are suggesting we should have had fancy finger foods on rotation? I can go buy some chicken strips to hand out if you’re that worried about it.”
Gale looked downright offended at that suggestion, “under no circumstances will we be having chicken strips at our daughter’s wedding!”
Angela’s hand was pressed over her mouth, “you know dad, chicken strips do sound really good.”
Gale scoffed, “again? You always take his side!”
“Oh please, I do not.” She gave Astarion a sly smile, who returned it in earnest.
Astarion opened his arms to Angela, “give me a hug, my sweet. I’ll see your beautiful self shortly.”
Angela looked at him, confused. “Where are you going?”
“To get seated, where else?”
Angela looked at Gale, and back to him. “You’re not going to walk me down the aisle?”
Astarion felt genuinely shocked. “But Gale’s your dad. You don’t want him to walk you?”
Angela shook her head, “I want you both to walk me. You’ve been nothing but a father to me over these years, so why wouldn’t I want both of my dads to give me away?”
Astarion doesn’t cry much.
Or at least, he didn’t used to.
But now they pour forth and wet his cheeks. It was inevitable, and one glance at his husband’s equally emotionally glassy eyes had him huff and pull Angela into a tight hug.
“I love you, dad,” she said, her arms wrapping around him lovingly.
“I love you too, pet.”
The woman in front of them nudged them, “hey, it’s almost time.”
Astarion straightened up, pressing his jacket down and watching as Angela loops her arm around Gale’s, and holds her hand out to him. Taking a breath, he joined them, his arm wound tightly with Angela’s like it was something precious, because it was.
His precious daughter. And his precious husband, right on the other side.
The doors of the cathedral opened, and the pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen began filing in. It was a spectacular venue, the ceiling stretching several feet high, and the acoustics of room boasting masterful architecture. The organ music echoed through the room and vibrated under their feet gently.
As the line dwindled down, Astarion steeled himself, and stole one more glance at his daughter and the love of his life. If his heart was an engine, they were most certainly the oil. It wouldn’t run quite right without them.
“All rise,” the priest announced. The familiar sounds of the wedding march began playing on the organ, and the three of them stepped into the aisle which was sprinkled with rose petals. Many of their friends watched with tears and warm expressions as they gave reassuring smiles to him as he walked to Angela’s left.
They paced themselves slowly, allowing Angela her moment. The blue colored runner stretched on and on and stopped at the precipice of goodbyes.
Astarion didn’t think about it, but it was a little bit of a goodbye, bittersweet. The man waiting for them at the end of this line would now comfort her in her times of need, join her for dinner, and tell silly stories with her. Perhaps eventually, they’ll start a family of their own. They would be moving back to his hometown after the wedding.
As they reached the altar, Gale gave the groom a handshake, and hugged Angela tightly, whispering something Astarion couldn’t hear into her ear.
Astarion followed his lead, shaking and nodding kindly at the groom. They had gotten off on the wrong foot at first when Angela had brought him over, a little too arrogant and mouthy. They had come to fall into place with one another eventually though, and Astarion began to at least tolerate him for Angela’s sake.
“Don’t forget you owe me for that bet,” Astarion whispered to the groom.
The groom laughed, “on my wedding day, seriously?”
Astarion patted his shoulder, “no time like the present.”
He turned to Angela, who stood there beaming and resplendent. Before he could step forward, she threw herself into his arms. “I’m going to miss you.”
Astarion felt the pressure of tears starting to threaten to spill over again. He squeezed her, tilting his face to her cheek and giving her one last butterfly kiss with his eyelashes, which prompted the laugh he was looking for. “I’m going to miss you too. But then again, maybe this isn't goodbye so much as it's... see you later, darling.”