“Excuse me,” Marcus interrupts them both, with a roll of his eyes that speaks clearly of a desire to just get on with things (and also a little of fondness, it’s odd how that’s grown as he’s headed into the cold years of adolescence), “but could we please stop the nauseating sentiments and get on with your second marriage?”
“Marcus-“
“It can’t end any worse than your first one, after all.”
“Marcus-!”
…And he would take more offence, he would. But Chris is smiling at him again, and he’s too busy being consumed by wordlessly soppy fondness to do anything but reach out to her and feel her fingers squeeze in return.
“Marcus does have a point,” Caitlin reminds gently, after a few moments of such treatment.
“I’m not sure that he does,” the priest interrupts before he can fully snap free of Chris’ hypnotic sway (not that he could, not that he would ever really want to), “this is most irregular-“
“Shut it, priesty.”
“I’ve only seen the young man once before!”
“Shut it.”
“And I’m not quite sure if I want to marry an anarchist in my-“
“Priesty,” Chris smiles firmly, finally turning away from him and stealing Caitlin’s nickname while she’s at it, “The French revolution was directed not only at the incredibly idiotic aristocracy but also at changing the corrupt influence of the church in general politics, do you want that to happen again?”
“Chris,” he has to interrupt, groping vaguely forwards for her wrist as she glowers at the man, “Chris, that’s not helping our point…”
“Not really,” agrees the priest, looking a little terrified.
“Our point?” Chris smiles, looking back at him with so much fondness that his heart may melt a little.
…He stares wordlessly for only a moment.
“Come on, Tim,” is interrupted by a firm nudge in the ribs from Marcus, and a roll of his son’s eyes that really does say absolutely everything, “we all know your answer.”
“Marcus…”
Caitlin only smiles from the side.
…And, well, he thinks he knows why. As he steps forwards to stand besides Chris, takes both of her hands in his own and smiles at her a little shakily (even though this has to be better than the last time), “our point.”
And she beams.
“…Come on, then.”
And it’s not the most romantic ceremony, not by any means, but as she dips him in a kiss he still finds it the most perfect thing that he’s ever known.
UNPROMPTED: Who Gets Married on a Thursday?, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [1B/2]
“Marcus-“
“It can’t end any worse than your first one, after all.”
“Marcus-!”
…And he would take more offence, he would. But Chris is smiling at him again, and he’s too busy being consumed by wordlessly soppy fondness to do anything but reach out to her and feel her fingers squeeze in return.
“Marcus does have a point,” Caitlin reminds gently, after a few moments of such treatment.
“I’m not sure that he does,” the priest interrupts before he can fully snap free of Chris’ hypnotic sway (not that he could, not that he would ever really want to), “this is most irregular-“
“Shut it, priesty.”
“I’ve only seen the young man once before!”
“Shut it.”
“And I’m not quite sure if I want to marry an anarchist in my-“
“Priesty,” Chris smiles firmly, finally turning away from him and stealing Caitlin’s nickname while she’s at it, “The French revolution was directed not only at the incredibly idiotic aristocracy but also at changing the corrupt influence of the church in general politics, do you want that to happen again?”
“Chris,” he has to interrupt, groping vaguely forwards for her wrist as she glowers at the man, “Chris, that’s not helping our point…”
“Not really,” agrees the priest, looking a little terrified.
“Our point?” Chris smiles, looking back at him with so much fondness that his heart may melt a little.
…He stares wordlessly for only a moment.
“Come on, Tim,” is interrupted by a firm nudge in the ribs from Marcus, and a roll of his son’s eyes that really does say absolutely everything, “we all know your answer.”
“Marcus…”
Caitlin only smiles from the side.
…And, well, he thinks he knows why. As he steps forwards to stand besides Chris, takes both of her hands in his own and smiles at her a little shakily (even though this has to be better than the last time), “our point.”
And she beams.
“…Come on, then.”
And it’s not the most romantic ceremony, not by any means, but as she dips him in a kiss he still finds it the most perfect thing that he’s ever known.
Heck, even Marcus smiles!