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A comfortable silence settles over the event hall, broken only by the soft clicks of shoes against tile.
The wedding had been a whirlwind of chaos and laughter, and the reception was certainly no different. There had been plenty of drinking, dancing, and even a kahoot on the newlyweds. Ever the competitive, the two sat neck and neck the entire quiz, and when Thomas won with a singular point lead, Micro immediately demanded a divorce, leaving the entire party in a fit of laughter.
The newlyweds decide to run along with the bit as the night went on, playfully bickering much to the rest of the party's chagrin.
The bit broke when some poor relative bumped into Thomas's glass of red wine, drenching the groom's brilliant white blazer in deep crimson. His groomsmen immediately rushed him away to a changing room, hoping to get the stain out before it set.
Unfortunately for the newlyweds, they wound up separated for almost the entire rest of the night, constantly dragged into conversation by the many friends and relatives they had invited. At most, they would get a few moments together to check in with the other before someone would whisk them away again.
By the night's end, the two were positively beat. The venue's staff had already been working to tidy the place up as the night drew to a close, but there was still some things left for the grooms to take care of before they could depart. Several members of the wedding party offered to stay and help, but the couple insisted on having some time to themselves to close out the night.
As the last guest departed, the newlyweds let out a sigh of relief.
"God I hope I never have to do that again," Micro groans, walking over to the gift table, nearly collapsing on top of it. Thomas follows close behind, his laughter echoing around the empty room.
"Well don't forget, we are divorced now. If you want to keep this ring on my finger I'm afraid we'll have to run it back." Micro groans even louder, and Thomas walks over to him, patting a hand on his back.
"We have a list of what everyone brought, right?" Micro steadily props himself up against the table, running a hand down his face.
"Right here, love," Thomas taps the wood to Micro's right and he sighs in relief. "Don't worry, that was set out long before any of the guests arrived. Flux and I triple checked." Micro drops his head against Thomas's shoulder.
"Thank god for that. What was his gift again?"
"Paying the entire bar tab for the night." Micro sucks in a breath through his teeth.
"God, I can't believe he insisted on doing that. I don't even want to look at how high that tab is."
"I believe his exact words were 'I'm not letting my best friend have shitty wine on his wedding night.'" Thomas laughs uncomfortably, resting a hand on the back of his neck.
"Imported wine." Micro clarifies. "He bought us bottles and bottles of fancy, imported wine from Europe. It was phenomenal, but if I have to think about the price of that bottle of red I think my brain will short circuit." Thomas lets out a whine of disappointment at Micro's words.
"And my entire glass wound up on my blazer." He fidgets with the sleeve of the black button-up he had been forced to swap into. Flux thankfully had plenty of experience with red wine and knew exactly what had to be done to get the stain out quick, but Thomas still mourned the loss of it for the rest of the night. Micro pauses for a moment, then looks up towards the bar. The bartender had cleaned up for the night, but the bottles of wine were theirs, which could only mean…
Micro steps away from Thomas's side — who whines at the loss of contact — and marches to the bar. There were multiple cases of wine still sitting on the floor, each missing varying amounts of bottles, but all sealed. Micro looks to the counter to see several stoppered bottles of wine organized by type: whites, sparkling, rosé, and finally reds. Micro doesn't even need to know the name to tell which bottle he's looking for. The bottle has a golden ribbon wrapped around its neck, with a tag that reads in bold lettering "GROOMS ONLY". Thank yoooou Fluixon Aculon.
Micro grabs the bottle without hesitation and hooks his finger on a reds glass hanging from the rack before jogging back to where Thomas is leaned against the gift table. He lifts the items in his hands with a grin and Thomas shakes his head, unable to hide his own smile.
"Someone made extra sure the paws of the common folk were left off it," Micro tilts the bottle so that Thomas can see the tag.
"I'm not so sure I want a rerun of previous events. I'll pass." Micro scoffs, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated fashion and popping a hip.
"And miss out on what could possibly be the greatest wine you'll ever have? On your wedding day no less?"
"I can always have some tomorrow." Another scoff from Micro.
"But what if it tastes better after opening, hmmm? What if the flavor dulls the next day?" Micro pops the stopper out and swishes the wine around the bottle. "C'mon, a glass to finish the night?" Thomas turns back to the table with a chuckle, shuffling around the various boxes and beginning to take note of the names attached.
"Really, Micro, I'll be fine. Promise." Micro scowls, pouring a glass despite his husband's protests. His expression softens as he sees the sheepish look that now decorates Thomas's face.
"Are you really just worried about spilling it and staining your pants?" Thomas raps his fingers against the table, a nervous habit.
"Maybe a little bit." He glances over at Micro, but doesn't make eye contact. "I'm mostly worried I'll somehow spill some on you, and then we'll both have ruined our wedding suits." A soft smile works its way across Micro's lips.
"Thomas…"
"I know, I know, it's silly. I just… I just want to be extra sure this night is perfect." Thomas finally makes eye contact with Micro, and he can't help but feel his heart soar at the look of pure and utter love his husband gives him. He adjusts his fingers against the stem of the glass, and an idea sparks into his head.
"So you want some, you just don't want to spill it." A statement more than a question.
"More or less"
Micro pauses for a moment, swishing the wine around the glass, before lifting it to his lips. It tastes heavenly as it rolls over his tongue, but he doesn't move to swallow it. Instead he steps forward, grabbing Thomas's jaw. His eyes widen.
"Wait Micro —" His words are cut short by Micro planting their lips together, grip on his jaw tightening. Micro taps a finger against the hinge of his jaw, and Thomas shakily parts his lips. Micro presses his tongue into Thomas's mouth, forcing the wine with it. Once the liquid left his mouth, his tongue retreats, and he taps a finger once more. Thomas's lips snap shut, and Micro slowly pulls away, never taking his eyes off of him.
Thomas breathes shakily through his nose, wine still in his mouth. He blinks a few times in rapid succession before swallowing. He takes in a deep breath, hands trembling as they hover at Micro's sides. Wine drips down his chin, and he makes a half-hearted attempt to lap it up with his tongue, but it drops before he can, landing perfectly on the edge of Micro's own white blazer.
"Well would you look at that, I spilled on my own blazer." Micro tuts. "What a klutz I am." He swishes the glass one last time before setting it down on the table beside him. Thomas is still looking at him with wide eyes, and Micro smirks. "What? Something on my face?"
Thomas grabs Micro's face, smashing their lips together. Micro sighs into the kiss, wrapping his arms around his husband, wine glass now forgotten.
When asked later that night if he liked the wine, Thomas couldn't even begin to describe how it tasted. Micro gestured to the glass still sat on the table.
"Want another taste?"