Master Apprentice
Archive
A Wedding in Arcadia #6 -- Ceremony
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Archive: MA only
Category: Alternate Reality, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The happiest day of Ian and Quinn's lives
Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 55
A chronological list of the series with the URLs can be found under the header 'Academic Arcadia' at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/master-apprentice/files/
My MA story page: http://www.masterapprentice.org/cgi-bin/qs.cgi?keyword=Merry+Amelie
Feedback: Is treasured at MerryAmelie@aol.com Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
To Alex, Ula, and Nerowill, my friends and betas extraordinaire
Many thanks to terri for enhancing the story by suggesting a surprise.
Kudos to Janet for giving the lads some "flutters."
Their wedding day.
They hadn't wanted to keep to the tradition of being apart until the ceremony, preferring to wake in each other's arms and savor one another's company as long as possible until the brief separation before their vows. On this day of all days they felt a positive craving to be together.
Ian stirred in the bed they'd share on their wedding night. He'd dozed off after they'd made love early that morning. He took note of the creamy, eyelet-bordered sheet as he gazed down at Quinn, determined not to forget any detail of their marriage bed, knowing he'd have better things to think about in a few scant hours.
Quinn cracked an eye open, and kissed Ian's tempting lips, shortly to say the most important words ever spoken to him.
But Ian was in a playful mood at the moment. "It's your last chance to make love with no strings attached."
Quinn was fully awake now. He looked at Ian's nude form appreciatively. "I can see that, lad." He brushed Ian's lovely chest with his fingers. "Mmmm. No strings here." He continued the tantalizing caresses over Ian's muscular legs. "None here either."
Ian pulled Quinn down on top of him, silencing his verbal teasing with his lips, while encouraging his teasing hands by wriggling. "Good t'know...you're not just stringing me along."
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Quinn handled the situation in his patented way -- swamping Ian with passion until it was impossible for him to come up with another quip.
After making love for the last time as bachelors, they had a bit of fruit from the Prentices' gift basket, then showered and sat on the bed in their socks and boxer briefs, the damp hair on their thighs twining together naturally.
Smiling, Quinn stretched over to the nightstand to get the tiny velvet box that their rings had originally come in. He had removed the cardboard ring slot to fit in a small pouch Ian had given into his safekeeping for today, as well as their charms: the shamrock he'd presented Ian with on their first St. Patrick's Day together, and the parrot Ian had gifted him with from the limbo contest on their cruise to St. Thomas.
"How about these for 'something old', Ian?"
Ian's peal of laughter rang throughout the suite. "A traditionalist, at least for today." He kissed Quinn's chin in approval.
A beaming Quinn said, "Our tuxes are 'something new' -- I still have my receipt." His chuckle proved contagious when Ian couldn't resist joining in.
"And these are 'something borrowed', love." Ian said, getting into their game. Ian opened the faded pouch to show Quinn two sets of gold cufflinks shaped like miniature sabers. "I'm honored that my dad is letting us use them. My grandfather gave them to him and Uncle Mike for their college graduation."
"That leaves 'something blue', lad," Quinn said, "and I have just the thing." He reached to the nightstand again, and rummaged around in the top drawer. Quinn found a little package, and presented it to Ian.
Ian opened it to find two blue and green tartan bowties. "Oh, these are much better than the plain ones we got with the tuxes." He gave Quinn a one-armed hug. "Glad you thought of it. Now we're following tradition in almost every way."
"Wouldn't want to completely, now would we? Where's the spice in that?" Quinn grinned rakishly, and petted him in a place which would have raised blood pressure in polite society.
Ian loved seeing, as well as feeling, his maverick lover in action. Their wedding never would have been more than a dream without Quinn's heterodox nature.
Reluctantly tearing his hand away after a look at his watch, Quinn got the formalwear from the closet, still in its protective vinyl. He unzipped Ian's garment bag first, to his groom's delighted smile.
Ian held out his arms in anticipation of being wrapped inside the dress shirt in Quinn's hands. His freshly showered skin was cool under Quinn's palms as he tucked him into his white formal shirt, buttoning it up with long-practiced ease. He kissed the vanishing chest underneath, knowing that only a few hours separated him from revisiting that expanse in all its naked glory.
Next, the slacks went on. Quinn knelt by the side of the bed to ease the soft fabric over the well-mapped length of Ian's legs. He lifted the shirt to kiss the skin just under the button at the waist before doing it up.
Ian looked down to see the pleasing contrast between Quinn's tanned cheek and his own pale stomach, between Quinn's sun-browned hand and the starchy whiteness of the shirt. He could feel a delicious tickle as Quinn's newly-shaven chin rubbed against his stomach. When Quinn pulled the shirt back in place, the curtain came down for the moment.
Never had Ian gotten so worked up about being dressed before. He took a few calming breaths before returning the favor for Quinn.
Ian encased Quinn's long arms in his white shirt, applauding the difference custom tailoring made. Since he was virtually draped over his groom's back already, he moved a breath closer and completed the embrace with a satisfied sigh, echoed by Quinn. Ian walked him to the bed, still hugging him, and eased him down on the coverlet.
Following Quinn's pattern, he slid the slacks onto his recumbent lover, taking the opportunity to test the firmness of his neverending thighs with appreciative palms.
They put on shoes polished to a high gloss the day before, then tackled each other's bowties. No clip-ons for them -- they made the intricate looping motions of their properly knotted ties look easy.
Then the sabers on their cuffs and the charms on their lapels for the perfect finishing touches, both men smiling at the pleasant memories evoked by them.
Quinn helped Ian into his tuxedo jacket, brushing imaginary dust off the shoulders. Ian did the same, and tried not to crease either tux when he reached up for a sweet kiss.
It was time.
Quinn paced the length of the choir director's office, kinetic energy crackling off him in waves. "Been waiting forever," he said.
Keith smiled; he'd felt much the same on his own wedding day. When Quinn was in range, Keith put an empathetic hand on his shoulder. "Everything will be fine, son," he said in his usual comfortable tenor. He straightened the parrot charm on Quinn's lapel, askew from his fidgeting, thinking that Ian must be practically in orbit by now.
Indeed, Ian stalked around the priest's office, nervous tension a cloak around him.
Monty had given up on trying to get Ian to sit with him. Better to let him work it off. "Only a few more minutes to go, Ian," he said kindly.
He was right. Corgan came to collect the grooms and usher them into the corridor off the sanctuary. Jo, Kathy, and Lelia were already in place to the left side of the altar. The women were all smiles, their eyes bright with unshed tears of joy. Lelia giggled, picking up on the happiness around her.
Jo wore a light blue chiffon gown with an embroidered bodice, Kathy creamy lace, and Lelia a pale green party dress. The baby was in Kathy's arms and carried a tiny bouquet of orchids, since she was their honorary flower girl.
Keith and Monty took their positions to the right of the altar, pride radiating from them in palpable waves. They wore tuxedos like the grooms, and Keith had added a traditional cummerbund.
Mendelssohn's Wedding March started to play softly in the background as Quinn and Ian followed the priest to the altar.
Quinn smiled at the others in their little wedding party, trying to ignore a deep-seated pang within him.
His mother and father were not there.
Knowing it was by his own choice, and that more than likely they wouldn't have shown up even if invited, didn't make it easier in that instant.
His pragmatic side had completely accepted that this was the way things had to be, but the loving son within him protested the fact that his parents couldn't be there on the most important day of his life.
Taking a deep breath, Quinn released these 'little boy lost' feelings, and resolutely lived in the moment of his marriage ceremony. His commitment to Ian was cause for celebration and joy. Nothing else mattered now, nor should it.
We are one, Quinn thought.
He drank in Ian before him, all life and light, wearing his tux with effortless flair, about to join him on his journey.
When he saw Quinn standing before him, Ian was awed by the sanctity of their impending union. He would never forget this moment: blue eyes locked on his, lit by love, the stately grace of the tall, regal young man about to become his forever.
Everything within them had brought the men to this moment.
"My friends, we are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of great minds and greater hearts," the priest intoned.
Turning to Ian, the chaplain said, "Do you take this man to be your husband, to have and to hold, to love, honor, and cherish, from this day forward so long as you both shall live?"
Ian looked upon his groom with the purest pride and joy, candlelight reflecting in his clear blue-green eyes. "I do." Then, more quietly, "You are everything to me, nin daer."
The priest couldn't hide a pleased smile as he asked Quinn, "Do you take this man to be your husband, to have and to hold, to love, honor, and cherish, from this day forward so long as you both shall live?"
Quinn's eyes spoke his love before his words. "I do." Breath fluttering over Ian's lashes, Quinn whispered, "Whither thou goest, I will go, nin daer," for Ian's ears alone.
Quite a declaration from his unsentimental groom, and Ian's own breath caught at the words.
They had removed the college rings from their right hands the night before; while they'd been an inspired placeholder for the real thing, they were no longer needed, and would only serve as an unpleasant reminder of their self-repression.
Quinn wouldn't wear his again until the next visit with his parents, this time on his left hand, as a cover for possible indentations or tan lines.
Keith gave Quinn Ian's wedding band, and stepped back.
"Ian, with this ring I thee wed." Quinn's hand trembled as he slipped it over his husband's finger.
Monty presented Ian with Quinn's band, and joined his father.
"Quinn, with this ring I thee wed." Ian's fingertips were a bit sweaty as they moved over Quinn's knuckles.
Ian would never take his off again, and Quinn would only do so perforce.
"I now pronounce you new husbands. You may kiss your groom," Corgan said jubilantly.
The ceremonial kiss felt like their first, like their millionth. They could all but smell the evergreens of their little marriage garden in Williamsburg. The unfamiliar sensation of an audience around them, the familiar shape of their lips drawing them into each other. The feel of perfection.
They opened their eyes to family and friends looking upon them as lovers for the first time.
When the kiss was over, a young woman in the back pew quietly slipped out of the chapel, unseen.
The wedding bells pealed their joy for all to hear.
Wedded in hearts and minds, they were now married in fact, as well. A fact which had them beaming in elation.