Jon
I’ve never been someone’s best man before. I’ve also never been both the best man and one of the grooms. I went with Christine to a handfasting ceremony once with two brides and one groom, but I was just a guest and back then the whole arrangement seemed very strange to me – I really didn’t understand what those women were getting out of it.
If only I could go back now and kick myself in the ass for not seeing it sooner.
It felt like our stag night and bachelor party just flew by, one minute I was watching Lydia get fucked senseless, the next I was watching Mari and Allie drag her back to their Vegas hotel while Ike did the same with Patrick and myself. I was glad to see Mari being so welcoming to Lydia, it made me feel even better to know that she was down the hall right now helping her get ready for the wedding. It was hard to believe that we were already here, that this was really happening, and it no longer felt like the world was against us.
I straightened my bowtie in the mirror and smiled at my reflection. Patrick had our suits custom made with a shiny, satiny material that had a copper-colored glint in the right lighting. We agreed that I could wear a bowtie instead of the matching red ties with the rest of the groomsmen just because of the ceremony afterward. I adjusted my watch so that it peeked out from my cuffs and then began fiddling with my boutonniere. Our boutonnieres had three flowers each, a pale pink Gerber daisy, a white calla lily, and a dark red dahlia. We picked the flowers together and while they didn’t really go with the wedding colors, they were a good choice for us. I touched the petals of the flowers gently, trying not to disturb them as I reminisced.
“Harris, for Christ’s sake pull it together,” Charles voice cried out behind me. Laughter followed from the other groomsmen and I just had to roll my eyes.
“Is there a problem with being sentimental?” I asked dryly.
“There is when it’s you of all people,” Ike retorted.
I sighed and turned around to see them passing around a bottle of scotch. The discussion on how many groomsmen and bridesmaids the wedding needed had gone on for days before Lydia just eventually said that she only wanted Allie and Maritza in the wedding but Pat could have whoever he wanted. He chose Ike and Charles and left out some of his older friends that he didn’t talk to as regularly, but still included me as well. Lucy had been concerned about the optics but changed her tune when she heard that the three of us would walk back down the aisle together, not just Lydia and Patrick.
This wasn’t anything like what their wedding was supposed to be like when Patrick fantasized about it months ago, but it had grown to encompass us as a trio which I would forever be grateful for.
I could easily tell them that this baby was making me sentimental, or even the wedding itself, but the only person in this room that knew the truth was Patrick. Only he and Lydia knew that I hoarded photos, videos, emails, text messages, and anything else that I thought would be emotionally valuable to me later. My boutonniere would be frozen and saved just the same, hopefully placed alongside the ultrasound photos of our baby. Patrick was starting to understand why I did it, after the loss of his father and the resentment it left him with, I was sure that he knew exactly where I was coming from when I stored away these memories. Not being close with my siblings was also a factor.
“I like being sentimental once in a while,” I told them with a casual shrug. “You’ll understand when you have a kid.”
“Oh, don’t even start with that!” Charles protested. “Don’t listen to him, Ike, he only has one kid and he acts like he’s seen it all. Wait until you have five, you stop giving a shit about sentimentality when they all want their drawings on the fridge.”
“You have eleven,” I reminded him.
“I have a soccer teams worth of them,” he agreed with a proud grin. “Which means I know what I’m talking about and it’s around the fourth that you give up with any sort of structure and the fifth where everything is just thrown out the window. By the time you get to eleven you’re just praying that you can get them out of diapers before they know too many curse words.”
“We aren’t having that many kids,” Patrick said, standing up. “The line was drawn at four and honestly, I think that’s still pushing it.” He paused and moved around the men to make his way over to me. “Now if you’ll excuse us, I need a word with my best man before I start to panic.”
Ike and Charles burst out laughing again and I smirked as he tugged me out into the hallway. His red and black brocade pattern velvet tux was simply stunning and so him that for a moment all I could think of was him crying weeks ago over not having anything that fit. He seemed so much happier after opening up to us, he was even willing to bring Aleksy up with us now and then. It was feeling like Patrick was finally in a better place, one that I didn’t ever realize he needed but now seemed glaringly obvious. I didn’t hesitate to reach for him once the door behind us closed, mindlessly kissing him and letting my arm slip around his waist.
Three months ago, I would have been too nervous to do this in public. Now all I wanted was for people to know that it wasn’t them it was us and I wasn’t just a shadow on the wall of their lives, we were interconnected on a level that I saw as not being able to be broken apart easily. I didn’t think that if one of us was to leave that the other two could sustain themselves without the other, we all depended on each other now, we were all public, and we could all admit that this wasn’t able to be hidden anymore.
His tongue found mine seconds before his fingers knotted into my hair, pulling me closer. I tightened my hold on his waist and nipped at his lower lip while desperately trying to remind myself not to get worked up before I went to visit Lydia.
“You’re going to see her, aren’t you?” he asked as he pulled away, his voice low and husky.
I smirked and gave him a quick second kiss. “Is there a problem with that?”
He snorted and gently detached my arm as he took a step back. “No, just go easy on her. I want her ass for later.”
“You fuck hers, I’ll fuck yours,” I teased. “Sounds like a good wedding night to me.”
Patrick laughed and hugged me again before pushing me down the hall. “Go, make sure she doesn’t keep me waiting at the altar.”
I chuckled and made my way down to the double doors at the end of the hall where I could hear the women talking. I knocked lightly and waited for Michelin to let me in, she opened the door a crack first, as if worried that Patrick had come looking for Lydia instead.
“There’s a rule about the groom not seeing the bride,” she reminded me while guarding the door.
“It’s a good thing I’m not the groom then,” I reminded her happily. “Can I steal a few minutes with the bride or is she running late?”
Michelin smirked. “Would you believe me if I told you that she was early?”
“Definitely not.”
She laughed and opened the door the rest of the way to let me past. Inside the tiffany blue bridal suite, Lydia, Maritza, and Allison were taking pictures by the plush vanity lined with dozens of makeup products. Nora was clearly trying to hide the fact that she was crying as she quickly turned away from me and sniffled into her tissue while Celestyn patted the woman’s back reassuringly. I imagined that Lucy was in a similar state at downstairs with the wedding planner. My eyes didn’t go to Lydia first, instead I lingered on Mari and how beautiful she looked in the deep red bridesmaid dress with her short hair in delicate waves. My throat constricted as I watched Allison kiss her cheek and two smiled at each other. How much longer until it’s your turn, punky? Judging from the way she hugged her girlfriend, I could only assume that the clock was ticking.
She looked up when Michelin told the girls to grab their bouquets and give us some privacy and beelined over to me. I hugged her and kissed the top of her head while wishing that I never had to let her go.
“Papa, you look so good,” she whispered, squeezing me back
“Thank you, baby, you do too,” I whispered back. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she replied. Mari pulled back and blotted under eyes at the rogue tears. “Oh god, I can’t do this right now, I need out of this room…”
“You’re such a baby,” Allison teased her. “Look at you getting all choked up.”
“Shut up and get my bouquet,” Mari complained. “I can’t believe what I have to up with some days.”
And like that, my little girl melted away and all I could see a younger Christine. I smiled to myself and watched as the women were ushered out into the hallway, Michelin called back that she would be back in ten minutes and I made sure to lock the door on her way out.
“Are you ignoring me?”
I turned to see Lydia standing in the archway with her hands clasped behind her back. Her dress was stunning; a plunging neckline went down to just above her baby bump in a deep V, where it stopped a thin belt was wrapped around the narrowest part of her waist before flaring out into a ballgown skirt. Every inch of the dress was meticulously beaded and shimmered in the light. I’d originally thought the long sleeves were a bit conservative for her, but now, in the early afternoon light, she looked perfect. I loved the way her hair was pulled down to the side of her neck in an artfully messy bun, it made her look like, well, her.
“I could never ignore you,” I replied. “You look stunning.”
She smiled and did a little spin so that I could see her from all angles. The dress framed her back nicely and I stepped forward to run my fingers up her spine while she was turned around. Lydia paused and looked back at me coyly as I marveled at how soft her skin was. She smelled like lavender and cinnamon and I felt her heart begin to race as my fingers trailed lower down her back. I had to move quickly if I wanted to fuck her before the ceremony, but I just wanted to savor this time together.
“Does Master know you’re here?” she asked quietly, her voice full of want.
“Of course,” I answered. “He knew I wanted to kiss the bride and the groom before they got to see each other.”
She giggled and leaned back into my touch, an almost imperceptible amount of tension melting from her shoulders. There was a time when I would have lied to her about his permission if I didn’t have it but doing that now would hurt us all. Not that it mattered so much right now, given that Patrick did give me permission to see Lydia first, but it occurred to me just as I was leaning in to kiss her bare neck that I was doing exactly what he wanted from the beginning – I was following the rules.
It was amazing how well things worked when no one was trying to undercut the others.
My arms looped around Lydia’s waist and I pulled her back against my chest, my mouth was glued to her neck, licking and sucking at it while she moaned tugged insistently at my hair.
“Watch that,” I whispered to her. “I just had my hair done and I don’t need a lecture about it.”
“Then bend me over already,” she whined. “You’re taking forever and this is supposed be a quickie.”
I scoffed and pushed her down so that she was grabbing the back of the couch to support herself while I hiked her skirts up.
“No panties,” I remarked, giving her ass a hard slap. “It’s almost like you wanted me to come fuck you.”
“No one said it had to be you,” she replied coyly. “Maybe I was waiting for Ike.”
I slapped her ass again, drawing out a high-pitched squeal before I grabbed her throat to cut her off. “Be quiet,” I growled.
“Make me.”
My grip on her throat tightened slightly and she moaned again but remained quiet. My cock was already aching, straining against my pants as I pressed myself against her ass so that she could feel how much I wanted her. It was getting difficult to think beyond fucking her now that I could smell her sweet cunt with her legs spread like this. It took little work to get my cock out and rub it across her slit, spreading the wetness over myself before I forced my cock into her.
She gasped and her back arched. I used my hold on her neck to pull her back on me with every thrust, forcing myself as deep into her as I could from this angle. The sound of her panting and moaning was pushing me forward toward my own finish, but I didn’t know if I could get her off in such little time as well. With a frustrated groan I shoved her down and grabbed her hips, ignoring the yelp of surprise at my force and change of position. Suddenly, her moans became higher pitched and I felt her pussy getting wetter by the second.
I smirked and leaned down over her, pressing my chest to her back again so that she could feel my weight, my power. “How do you think your Master is going to feel when he finds your cunt used and dripping my cum?”
“He’ll be mad,” she mumbled. “Really, really mad.”
I laughed and thrust in hard, my skin prickling at the sound of her whimper. “I can’t wait to see him take that out on your cute ass,” I told her darkly. “It’s been a long time since you let him fuck you like that.”
I heard her whisper “oh god,” before I grabbed her hips and set to fucking her faster. I was pushing my luck with how long we were taking but I could feel the tension building in myself as well as her with the way her cunt tightened around me. I fought the urge to pull her hair and instead took hold of her shoulders, squeezing slightly as I came with a long groan. She gasped and I felt her thighs trembling as her pussy massaged my cock. Small sparks danced behind my eyes and the tension left my body as quickly as it had built.
I wasn’t entirely satisfied, I doubted she was either, but it was enough for now.
I slipped out of her and tucked myself away as she straightened up on shaky legs. Her face was flushed, eyes bright and I had to give her another kiss because she was just too tempting. Her hands took hold of my lapels and we stood there quietly together as our breathing evened out and my heart slowed down.
“You make a perfect bride,” I told her as I tilted her chin up. “Patrick is a very lucky man.”
She laughed and wiped at a single tear that rolled down her cheek. “I’m worried I won’t make him happy,” she admitted quietly. “That when everything is said and done, he’ll feel like he made a mistake with me…”
That would never happen. Patrick was the only one that really knew the depths of what I had done to lure Lydia away from him. Lydia didn’t know just how jealous I was and how I pushed him to acting in a way that I knew she didn’t like. I could see now that those tactics had led to this fear in both of them that at some point the other would leave. Patrick worried that Lydia would leave him again after he went too far at Plaisir because of how I’d pushed his buttons. Lydia worried that Patrick would leave her because of her wanting to be with both of us, a position that I fostered with her from the beginning.
I didn’t think either of them truly understood that I was the common denominator in both scenarios, and my only hope was that if they came to understand this better that I wouldn’t be left alone.
The sudden rush of guilt made my chest constrict and I clutched at it with a wince and a flash of worry. Am I having a heart attack? I pressed my hand to my chest and tried to take a deep breath.
“Jon?” Lydia asked, touching my cheek. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”
“I’m—” I broke off and finally got a strained breath that lessened the pressure in my chest. “Panicking. I’m panicking for no reason.”
She gazed up at my, gray eyes wide and concerned. “Panicking?” she repeated.
“Panicking.” I nodded. “Having a small heart attack over nothing—”
A knock sounded at the door and we turned. “Jon, Lydia? Are you ready?”
“I think that’s our cue,” I said, relieved that I didn’t have to explain myself. “Let me walk you to the door.”
She laughed and I took her arm in mine as we made our way out to Michelin who was beaming and ready to fawn over her adopted daughter. I gave Lydia’s hand one last squeeze before going to join the rest of the groomsmen and Patrick at the altar. I glanced back at her as I went down the stairs and paused, watching Michelin kiss her forehead before hugging her tightly.
My hope for Lydia was that we could make her happy, it was what she deserved after everything she had been through, after everything we put her through. I wanted Michelin to know that we would take good care of her, and I prayed we got the opportunity to prove that to her throughout the rest of our lives.