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“Bloody weddings.”
Sebastian slipped the car into reverse and backed out of the little gravel clearing. It wasn’t even six PM yet, but since they didn’t actually know the bride and groom — a friend of Anne’s, nothing more — they’d decided to make an early escape. Weddings could be lovely: warm, cosy, joyous occasions where you celebrated someone else’s love, ate good food, and laughed with friends.
They could also be absolute disasters — the kind where you sweated through your linen suit, the bride’s ex objected right as the registrar said “speak now or forever hold your peace,” the best man got so drunk he lost the rings, and the mother-in-law turned up in a white dress. Sebastian’s headache doubled just thinking about the chaos from the ceremony.
The only redeeming feature of the whole affair was seeing Ominis dressed for the occasion. Ominis looked like some angel sent down specifically to tempt humanity. Cream-coloured linen trousers with press folds, a white, airy shirt, a tastefully beige-grey blazer, and a light blue pocket square. He’d surrendered to the summer heat and skipped styling his hair; instead, it fell in a soft sweep over his forehead, fluttering in the breeze while the vows were read.
Sebastian wasn’t remotely ashamed to admit he’d spent far more time looking at Ominis than at the happy couple. The bride had been beautiful — long dark hair, red lips — and her groom was perfectly pleasant to look at too. But none of that came close to Ominis.
Ominis, with his cane in one hand and Sebastian’s arm in the other. Ominis, weaving through the crowds at Sebastian’s side, wearing that polite, cool smile. Sebastian knew that controlled, reserved expression often made people think he was a little snobbish, a touch smug or condescending. Personally, Sebastian thought it made him look sinfully attractive.
By the end of the ceremony, however, even Ominis’ carefully carved patience had begun to fray. When the third guest wandered up to chirp about how lovely it was that Ominis’ “guide/carer/brother” took the time to help him, that already-tight smile had flattened into a line. Sebastian had nearly started a fight on the spot.
“How can anyone think we’re brothers?” he demanded once the offender was out of earshot. “We look nothing alike. We literally have matching pocket squares. I grabbed your arse on the way in.”
Ominis grimaced. “Yes, and that was rather unnecessary. But it’s a wedding, Sebastian. Let’s not turn it into a funeral.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” Sebastian muttered. “Two birds, one stone.”
Now, at last, they were in the car on their way home. Sebastian glanced over at Ominis, who sat with his folded cane resting across his lap, absent-mindedly turning it between his fingers. Sebastian couldn’t wait to get home, change into joggers and hoodies, and curl up on the sofa with a cup of tea and a bag of crisps.
His stomach growled loudly just as they passed a sign announcing a McDonald’s at the next exit. He bit his lip. Ominis usually wasn’t keen on fast food.
“Sebastian?” Ominis said suddenly. Sebastian flicked him a look. “Hm?”
Ominis twisted the cane again. “Are you hungry too?”
Sebastian let out a relieved groan. “God, yes. Those portions were sized for children. Or elves.” He took the exit promising them McDonald’s.
“Hi,” Sebastian said as he rolled up to the drive-through speaker. “Can I get a twenty-piece chicken nuggets, no meal, three barbecue sauces, and four cheeseburgers? And a large fries and two large Cokes. Bit of extra ketchup and some napkins in the bag, please. Cheers.”
“Trying to make us fat?” Ominis asked lazily as they were told to pull up to the payment window. Sebastian caught Ominis’ slim wrist between his thumb and forefinger. “Oh absolutely. You’re enormous.”
Once they had their food, they parked off to the side of the restaurant. Sebastian dug into the bag like a raccoon in a wheelie bin, the smell of hot chips filling the car.
“Christ,” he groaned around a mouthful of cheeseburger. “This beats canapés and prawn vol-au-vents any day of the week.”
Ominis always looked unintentionally hilarious when he ate fast food. It was as though he were desperately trying to maintain that aura of aristocratic poise he’d been raised with, despite the fact that nothing about greasy, fried chicken nuggets translated well to refined table manners. It didn’t stop him trying, though.
“Mmm.” He groped for the little cup they’d poured ketchup into, misjudged the distance entirely, and dunked his whole finger in it. The disgust on his face nearly made Sebastian choke on his Coke.
For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, eating. Sebastian watched him thoughtfully. Ominis’ linen outfit was rumpled now, his hair sticking slightly at the temples after a long day of heat and sweat. He’d managed to get ketchup on his linen trousers. He licked his fingers clean — and the thought hit Sebastian out of nowhere:
I want the next wedding we go to to be ours.
It wasn’t a groundbreaking idea. It had probably been sitting somewhere at the back of his mind for ages. But now, seeing Ominis in his crumpled suit, licking barbecue sauce off his fingers before asking Sebastian to pass the chips, the thought finally crystallised.
And it didn’t scare him. Quite the opposite — it settled him, spreading a warm, steady sense of contentment through his chest. An anchor. A decision.
“Oi.”
Ominis set his nugget down in the bag and leaned over the gear stick, face tipped up, expectant. One hand came up and curled lightly around Sebastian’s wrist — the one holding the cheeseburger. The message couldn’t have been more obvious. Sebastian leaned in, eyes fluttering shut, feeling the faint brush of Ominis’ soft lips against his—
And Ominis, quick as a striking snake, dodged past his mouth and took a huge bite out of the cheeseburger instead.
Sebastian stared, utterly betrayed, as Ominis calmly chewed what was left of his cheeseburger.
“I— what?”
Ominis covered his mouth as he chewed. “What?”
“That was my cheeseburger!” Sebastian protested weakly. “There are literally three more if you want one!”
Ominis shrugged and swallowed. “I wanted yours.”
Sebastian groaned. “You’re unbelievable. You know that?”
With a smug little smile, Ominis took a sip of Coke. “And yet you’re thinking about marrying me.”
Sebastian, halfway to grabbing a new cheeseburger, nearly dropped it. “How did you know that?” he asked, stunned. Ominis shrugged again.
“I’m not stupid. I can feel you staring at me, post-wedding vibes practically radiating. Pass me another cheeseburger?”
Still disbelieving, Sebastian slowly handed over the wrapped burger. Ominis unfolded it, took an dainty bite, and chewed contentedly while Sebastian shook his head in slow despair.
“I’m going to end up with the most unhinged man in the history of the world.”
“And I’ll end up with the most arrogant, self-satisfied, reckless man in the history of the world,” Ominis returned smoothly. “So I’d say we’re even.”
“Do you even want to marry me?”
Ominis lifted an eyebrow. “Was that a proposal? If so, Mr Sallow, I must say — I’ve seen better.”
“Oh my God,” Sebastian groaned theatrically. “You’re impossible. I swear, when I finally propose, I’m going to sweep you off your feet. You won’t know what’s hit you.”
Despite the playful bickering, Ominis lowered his cheeseburger and tilted his head. His smile gentled into something genuine as he said:
“I look forward to it.”