Archive of Our Own ^beta

i.

Airport goodbyes suck.

On top of that, Chigiri can’t think of much worse than Kunigami flying across the Atlantic a week before their wedding.

His fiancé turns at the security gates, a guilty smile tugging at his lips. Chigiri tries to hide his discontent. It’s nobody’s fault, after all. Well—it’s not Kunigami’s fault that he has a contract with this advertiser, or that this campaign has been planned for months, or that nobody was able to take his place at short notice… or that he failed to recall this commitment when they were picking a date for their marriage ceremony.

In the same vein, it’s not Chigiri’s fault for being upset. They’ve already argued about it, cried and reconciled. For that reason, he steps into his arms with a sigh.

“You owe me,” he mutters, sinking his fingers into Kunigami’s jacket and snuggling into his chest. They linger for a moment, as Kunigami strokes his hair wordlessly, chin resting on Chigiri’s head. Eventually, he disengages, threading their fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” he says earnestly, for what must be the hundredth time in as many hours. “I should have double checked the dates. I was so focussed on keeping the weekend free, I never thought to—”

“—I know,” Chigiri interjects, patting the taller man’s chest. “Contractual obligations and all that. I’ll get over it eventually. For now, I have every right to act like a jilted bride.”

“I’ll be back in five days,” his kind, courteous, infuriatingly hot fiancé assures him, as if it’s of any comfort. Chigiri knows he’ll return. What he’s really cross about is the amount of wedding prep he’ll now have to handle by himself. Reo, his best man, immediately offered to take it out of his hands—but he only plans on getting married once. Why skip out on the experience?

“We’re not supposed to see each other on Friday,” he grumbles.

It takes Kunigami a moment to catch his drift. He grins. “Ah, because of bad luck? Never took you for a traditionalist, princess.”

Chigiri gives him a shove. “Get going already,” he grimaces, trying to separate their hands. But Kunigami doesn’t let go. He raises Chigiri’s knuckles to his lips, kissing the skin just below his engagement ring.

“Check under your pillow when you get home,” he says, with a searing gaze that makes Chigiri’s core tighten.

“Did you forget something?” he breathes. Kunigami shakes his head.

“I know you,” he says simply. “You’re impatient, and an overthinker. So, I’ve arranged a few distractions for you. I’m hoping it’ll keep me off your mind.”

Chigiri’s mouth curves. As if anything could banish his hero from his thoughts. “We’ll be able to FaceTime,” he reminds him. The time difference between New York and Manchester isn’t that bad, and Kunigami has assured him he’ll have time to talk through last-minute wedding planning.

“That’s true,” he smiles. “Then consider it a proper apology for leaving in the first place.”

Chigiri laughs, before grabbing him by the lapels and pressing their lips together, savouring the warmth of his fiancé’s mouth for as long as he can. Reluctantly, Kunigami pulls back, cupping Chigiri’s jaw and running a thumb over his cheekbone. His eyes are full of longing. “Love you. Gonna miss you.”

“Love you, miss you too,” he sighs, as Kunigami shoulders his carryall. “Now, go.”

Back at their apartment, Chigiri paces mindlessly in his chosen wedding footwear, wincing whenever the leather rubs at his heel. Just as well he remembered to break them in. Although he’d take feet covered in blisters over having to call their venue, photographer, band and transport company, confirming the date, times and details with them all.

Unfortunately, he has to cope with both. Though their wedding will be small, the list of things to do never ends. All the admin leaves Chigiri in a tired, irritable mood.

Even the yowling of Kuro, their cat, fails to soothe his grumpiness, though he dutiful feeds the little hellion. Afterwards, he boots up his laptop for an hour, clearing out emails and double checking payment arrangements with the various vendors. He eventually slams the lid closed, massaging his temples. Time for dinner, then a long indulgent bath. May as well make the most of having the apartment to himself.

When his hair is dried, it’s late enough to justify going to bed. A groom-to-be needs his beauty sleep, after all. Wrapped in a old t-shirt of Kunigami’s, he slides under the covers of their king sized bed. There’s a slight rustle as Chigiri’s head hits the pillow. Jerking upright, he slips his hand underneath, to retrieve a soft blue envelope. He rips it open.

Future husband,

Sorry (again) for leaving you on your own. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than by your side. Though I can’t be there in person, I’ll be there in spirit.

Tomorrow, go to the place where we like to talk about old times. Order your drug of choice.

As for tonight, dream of me. You already know you’re the man of my dreams.

Rensuke

The paper bears the scent of Kunigami’s cologne, earthy and spiced. Though there’s a bottle of the stuff in their bathroom, encountering it unexpectedly makes Chigiri long for the corny idiot tenfold. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he palms the bedside table for his phone, hugging his legs to his chest.

Thanks for the letter, he types. Not that I need an excuse to get coffee.

Kunigami responds almost instantly. Ah, you found it. All the same, let me know what you think.

I miss you, he replies, dimming the light and settling under the covers, cradling his phone like a jewel.

Miss you too, his fiancé replies, as Chigiri’s eyelids grow heavier. Five more days, princess. Wait for me.

ii.

Chigiri saunters into the coffee shop around ten the following morning in search of caffeine. In all likelihood, he’d have come here even without Kunigami’s letter. The café is just five minutes from their apartment, and their coffee is always top notch. At least according to Kunigami, who’s an espresso purist; Chigiri enjoys the sugary concoctions they offer, not to mention their buttery pastries.

He nods at the barista while glancing around for a free seat. The staff here know he and Kunigami well, and the barista offers him a grin as he approaches the counter.

“Hazelnut latte with a croissant on the side?” he asks.

“Either you’re psychic, or I come here too often,” Chigiri laughs, pulling out his wallet. But the barista shakes his head, tamping fresh grounds into a portafilter.

“This one’s on the house,” he replies, continuing to smile. “Take a seat. I’ll bring it over.”

Slightly embarrassed, Chigiri accepts. Though he appreciates the gesture, neither he nor Kunigami are hurting for money. He’s perfectly able to pay his own way.

He’s drumming his fingers on the table, wondering what his fiancé is doing (sleeping, most likely), when the barista arrives with his order—and a small parcel. It’s wrapped in thin paper, delicately secured by a blue ribbon, with a matching envelope baring his name in kanji. Chigiri glances up in shock, but the barista has already turned his attention to a fresh influx of customers.

Chigiri tears into the parcel, uncovering a stripe of pale blue fabric. He unwinds it slowly, revealing a… tie? He raises an eyebrow. Again, not something he’s in need of. Not to mention, he picked one for the wedding months ago.

He examines the blue fabric again. It’s made of a synthetic material, with unusual stripes of blue. It reminds him of something. When he turns it over in his palm, spotting an embroidered 44, he laughs out loud, drawing stares from the surrounding patrons.

Kunigami has managed to get a Manshine City jersey altered into a tie, embroidered to reference his playing number. Some might call it sacrilege, especially coming from a United player. But Chigiri takes it in good humour.

“Pleased?” the barista calls over the coffee machine, clearly invested.

“Very,” Chigiri confirms, still chuckling. “My fiancé is an idiot. But it’s why I’m marrying him.”

He takes a quick selfie with his coffee and the tie, saving it to send to Kunigami. Then he opens the accompanying envelope, contentedly sipping his latte. Kunigami’s cologne greets him again, and he has to resist running his nose along the soft paper.

Future husband, the notes begins, in their shared native tongue.

Please accept this gift / joke / travesty / exercise in bad taste (delete as appropriate). Never fear: I don’t expect you to wear it on Saturday. Maybe the next City conference instead? Reo sourced the jersey—I’m not sure he’d have agreed if he knew what I had planned.

Enjoy your breakfast. I hope your coffee is sweet, and your smile even sweeter.

Rensuke

Chigiri smirks at the thought of Reo’s face when he shows him the tie. He sits back, gently stroking the strip of fabric, before stuffing it into his pocket. The latte is silky smooth, spiced and nutty, while the croissant breaks into flakes with the barest of pulls. It’s sumptuous and indulgent, and he enjoys every bite. He’s learned to make the most of his off-season diet.

The only thing that’d improve the experience would be having Kunigami by his side, blushing as Chigiri teases him over the gift. He sighs, draining the last of his coffee. His partner will be home soon, to marry him no less. It’s not like they spend every waking moment together when they’re in Manchester. But the letters, carrying Kunigami’s familiar scent, make him crave his fiancé’s inimitable hugs all the more.

Thanks for the surprise. I’ll work it into my outfit somehow, he messages Kunigami, despite already ruling out wearing the tie as intended. He’s more fashion conscious than he is sentimental. No other hints?

It’s a few hours before he gets a reply. Chigiri is in the middle of a haircut, checking his phone only after his stylist begins the blow-dry. Patience, princess. Good things come to those who wait.

Never been my strong suit, he shoots back.

I thought I was patient, until I stepped through the security gates yesterday. I can’t wait to come home to you.

Really? Then hurry up already.

Kunigami sends a sad polar bear in response. Chigiri pockets his phone, unable to hide a smile.

iii.

Chigiri wakes up chilled, having kicked off the duvet in his sleep. Groaning, he reaches out, patting the sheets around him in increasing frustration. They’re absent of their customary warmth, generated by his space heater of a fiancé. He retrieves the duvet with a scowl, cocooning himself once more.

Just as he starts to doze off again, Kuro-chan makes her hunger known with an agitated howl. Convinced the universe is conspiring against him, Chigiri shuffles into the kitchen, void of a cat in pursuit. She’d finished an opened box of food last night. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he reaches into the recesses of the pantry for a sealed one—and does a double take. Taped to the cardboard is another pale blue envelope.

Kuro protests when he lays the box aside. “Give me a second,” he mumbles, eyes rapidly running up and down the latest letter.

Future husband,

Yesterday’s gift you could open in public. Today’s is more private, as well as selfish: it’s as much for me as it is for you. That should be enough of a hint to find it.

Hope you’re not too pent-up without me. I’ll make it up to you when I return.

Rensuke

He reads it twice, ignoring Kuro’s impatient swipes. The words are frustratingly cryptic. A gift that’s as much for Rensuke as for me?

After serving the cat breakfast, Chigiri scours the apartment as though possessed. He checks his partner’s wardrobe and dresser, his side of the bathroom and the weight rack in the living-room. He even rifles through the pouches of protein powder stashed in the kitchen.

After that he scans his own belongings, like the ever-crowded bookshelf and the pile of snuggly jumpers stored under their bed. Nada! It leaves Chigiri grouchier than before.

If he had more time, he’d tear through every cupboard, drawer and shelf in search of Kunigami’s gift. But at noon, he’s collecting his mother and sister from the airport, dropping them to their hotel, before a family dinner in the evening. He has a couple of errands to run in-between. Then, there’s Momoko’s insistence on experiencing Manchester’s nightlife tonight. Odds are, it’ll be late before Chigiri returns home.

“I need a hint,” he mutters into his phone, as he fumbles for his car keys. “I found the next clue—well played, by the way—but I can’t find the parcel anywhere!”

Hitting send on the voice note, Chigiri dashes out the door. Travel and reuniting with his family drives thoughts of the parcel from his head. Perhaps just as well, because Kunigami wasn’t swayed by his message.

You’ll find it, his response reads. If you’re still clueless by tomorrow morning, I’ll tell you outright.

How can you be so sure? he types back, tempted to call Kunigami and badger the location out of him. Frustration aside, Chigiri misses the resonant rumble of his fiancé’s voice.

Because you like to be teased. Trust me on this. It’ll pay off in the end.

Chigiri scoffs at the screen. As crazy as this little treasure hunt is driving him, he can’t argue Kunigami doesn’t understand how his brain works.

I miss him. If Kunigami had been there today, well—Chigiri daydreams how the morning would have played out. He imagines backing into the embrace of his fiancé’s thick arms, lying flush against his warm chest and returning to half-lucid dreams.

Those kind of lazy mornings usually lead to him rousing Kunigami, in all the ways he knows best. It’s a game Chigiri enjoys, idly teasing until his partner can’t feign sleep any longer. Breath hitching, he recalls a memory, after what felt like hours of subtle rubbing and grinding, of a very awake Kunigami flipping him over and exacting payback in ways that made Chigiri arch off the bed. It makes his toes curl.

Awash with desire, he forcibly clears his thoughts. Kunigami isn’t around to satisfy him, more’s the pity. He’ll have to take matters into his own hands… when he doesn’t have family to entertain.

His sister succumbed to jetlag eventually, but only after dragging Chigiri to four different bars. They’d drank cocktails at every one, and although the Uber to his apartment sobered him, it did nothing to discourage his unsated libido. His body aches with a tension he’s ignored all day. Now though, now that he’s alone…

He enters the bedroom, quickly shedding his clothes while lightly palming his neck, chest and thighs. It doesn’t take long to get in the mood. He considers calling Kunigami—a throwback to the days when sexts and dirty videos were their only relief—but reasons his fiancé’s likely busy.

An idea blooms, making his insides knot in anticipation. Now they’re living together, Chigiri rarely craves stimulation beyond what his partner provides him. But he still has some toys, dating from when Kunigami resided in Germany. This recollection instantly lifts his mood. What can he say? The distance between them this week has left him nostalgic.

Rolling over, he reaches into the drawer of the bedside table. Instead of silicone, his fingers encounter crinkly paper. Chigiri withdraws an oddly shaped package, mortified. Not only had Kunigami predicted the onset of his horniness—he’d counted on it.

After quickly ripping the paper aside, an envelope and a small bundle of fabric land on his lap with a flump. A third object rolls away onto the duvet, but he’s more curious about the fabric. It appears to be a lattice of white lace and silk. He holds it up, turning it around in his hands and shaking out the material until the penny drops.

Ah. Lingerie. That’s what Kunigami meant with that clue. He quickly pulls the garment on, adjusting the filigreed straps as he goes. The fabric does little to conceal his body; it simply enhances his assets, criss-crossing his hips, ass and thighs as though he himself is a parcel to be unwrapped. The thought of Kunigami coming home to him dressed like this makes Chigiri ache with need.

He recalls, in spite of his growing lust, that there’s another component to today’s gift. Biting his lip, he feels for it on the duvet, hand curling around soft plastic. Holding it up in the light, his jaw drops. He inspects the moulded beige silicone with awe. It’s silken to the touch, and exceeding life-like. An incredible replica, down to the slight curve. Even the vein placement is perfect.

Chigiri has long joked about wanting a dildo of Kunigami’s dick, given the international travel they both do. But he never expected his fiancé to take him seriously. He’s giddy at the thought of Kunigami working himself up in secret, all so Chigiri could have this memento of him.

He snatches up the envelope.

Future husband,

I don’t need to explain what these are for, do I?

The thought of you using your new toy will have to satisfy me over the next few nights. Let me know how good it makes you feel. Not too good hopefully, or else I’ll have to remind you how much better the real deal is when I get home.

Have fun,

Rensuke

Chigiri grabs his phone, knocking off the mood music he’d queued up. You free? he messages desperately, seeing Kunigami was recently online.

He replies immediately. At the hotel. Dinner at 8, but free until then. Do you want to talk?

Chigiri hits the FaceTime button before flopping down on the bed. He angles the camera at his face, hair a scarlet halo across the pillows. The video preview reveals blown-out pupils and flushed cheeks. He shivers in anticipation.

“Hey princess,” Kunigami calls in greeting. He’s freshly showered, hair darker than its usual sandy orange. Chigiri squirms at the sound of his voice, even over a speaker. “What’s up?”

“Are you alone?”

“I should hope so.”

“In a rush?”

“Not particularly.”

“Well, I won’t keep you long.” Smiling at his fiancé’s confusion, Chigiri slowly pans the camera down his body, delighting in the sharp intake of breath it generates an ocean away. He lingers at his crotch, before returning the lens to his face. Kunigami’s mouth hangs open.

“Holy—holy shit, Hyouma.”

“I found my present,” he says gleefully. “How does it look?”

“Incredible.” Kunigami sounds hoarse. “Better than I imagined.”

Chigiri picks up the dildo, running his fingers over the silicone for his fiancé’s benefit. “It’s my turn to tease you,” he grins, flicking his tongue over the tip of the fake cock. Kunigami swallows hard. “Wanna watch me play?”

“Fuck—one second.”

The camera feed flips, settling on the ceiling. There’s a metallic clink of a buckle, followed by rustling fabric. Chigiri takes the opportunity to prop up his phone on the headboard, before positioning himself on his knees, making sure both the dildo and some lube are in arm’s reach. He runs his fingers over his skin and the lace, pleased at the level of detail the camera is picking up. It’s a titillating view, if he says so himself.

With a grunt, Kunigami reappears, lying back on his own bed. Now shirtless, he lifts the phone to reveal the carved planes of his torso. He wraps a fist around his growing erection, squeezing it at the camera. “Ready when you are,” he murmurs hungrily. “God, I’m so lucky.”

“Don’t you forget it,” Chigiri purrs, tracing his hands over his chest.

iv.

After their tryst ended, they’d spent nearly an hour chatting and catching up. It was only after Kunigami checked the time (and realised he’d need another shower before dinner) that he’d hung up, rather guiltily.

The next day, Chigiri sighs. It was fun, getting off like that—just not nearly as fun as having Kunigami here. The silence in their bedroom that morning only reinforces his absence.

It’s not helped by the fact they’d booked a couple’s spa package for today. While Chigiri needs the self-care after handling so many of the preparations, he’s not ecstatic about going by himself. He’d asked Reo to join him, but he had work commitments. Nagi bluntly told him he’d rather stay home. Besides them, his sister and mother are taking advantage of their early arrival to explore the Lake District, returning Friday.

Because none of the other wedding guests have arrived in England yet, Chigiri is resigned to being pampered solo. A first world problem if there ever was one, but it still bums him out. There are no more envelopes to be found, and Chigiri begrudgingly accepts that the next one will appear when Kunigami has arranged, and not a moment sooner. He dresses in his nicest sweatpants and prepares to head out.

Moments before he’s due to leave, the apartment intercom rings.

“Chigiri?” He recognises Isagi’s voice instantly. “Can you buzz me in?”

Chigiri grants him entry without question. It’s earlier than he expected him, but he figures their ever-prepared friend is here to collect his wedding suit. The real surprise comes when he opens the door, revealing Isagi’s companion.

“It’s the princess!” Shidou Ryuusei yells, boldly shoving past Chigiri into the apartment. “Long time no see. What’s up? You and Hero-chan got yourselves a nice little love nest, huh? Ooh, you have a kitty!”

Gobsmacked, the redhead turns to Isagi for explanation. “Heard you’re in need of company today,” he shrugs, awkwardly massaging his neck. “Well, we’re free if you’ll have us. The spa’s been told to expect three, instead of two.”

Chigiri looks between Isagi, clad in a bright green polo shirt and slacks, clearly trying to act casual, and Shidou, who’s busy stroking a purring Kuro between the ears. The latter wears a sweater dress, fishnets and a pair of beaten up Doc Martens, blond hair sticking up in every direction. Joined by Chigiri in his chic loungewear, they make an odd trio. One that could only arise as a result of conspiracy.

“Did Ren put you up to this?” he asks accusatively.

Isagi taps his nose, blue eyes twinkling. “I’ve never been to a spa before,” he replies instead. “I’ll be counting on you to show me the ropes. I’m familiar with saunas and jacuzzis, and I’ve had massages before, so that’s OK. But this will be my first time getting a manicure, or a—er, facial.”

The admission makes him blush. Shidou lets out a staccato cackle, causing Kuro to jump. “Bullshit. There’s no way Rin-Rin hasn’t ji—”

“We better go,” Chigiri intervenes, deciding to roll with it—and doing his best to keep a straight face. Isagi shoots him a grateful smile. “Don’t wanna be late.”

It’s not the relaxing experience Chigiri anticipated, but the spa certainly proves entertaining. Moreover, having company means he doesn’t have any opportunity to wallow.

If Shidou has mellowed since Blue Lock, it’s hard to tell. He’s still impulsive, abrasive, and a liability whenever he opens his mouth. Fortunately, the blond opts for Japanese rather than English while the three of them catch up. All the same, Chigiri prays none of the staff understood when Shidou likened his recent move to Spain to being a semen donor. “I’m spreading my genes worldwide!” he’d yelled on his way through reception, throwing his arms wide and inadvertently smacking Isagi.

He proves at ease with the various treatments, including a hot stone massage, an intensive anti-ageing facial, and a luxury mani-pedi. “Sae-chan and I are regulars back home,” he explains to Chigiri, as dual masseuses expertly work baobab oil through their hair. “He likes the skin treatments, but the steam and massages are more my speed. Oh, but we both dig the blissed-out sex afterwards,” he grins fiendishly. “You haven’t lived until you’ve banged on a massage table. Try convincing that stick-in-the-mud fiancé of yours next time you’re here.”

Chigiri bites his tongue, unwilling to open up his relationship for scrutiny—but no, he hasn’t copulated at a spa before. The locker rooms of various clubhouses across Europe yes, but that’s far from a unique badge of achievement among their friend group.

Isagi is also in good spirits, albeit confused by some of the treatments. (“I thought you’re supposed to eat vitamin C—not apply it?”) It’s good to spend some time together. With Isagi still based in Germany, they don’t see one another as often as Chigiri would like. It’s a shame, because he’s one of Chigiri’s favourite people to talk about football with.

He’s amused by his companions’ banter, with Isagi deflecting numerous off-colour taunts from Shidou about his relationship with Rin. Chigiri endures some teasing too, but it’s in good fun. Their teenage grievances are all but forgotten at this stage of their lives, at least off the pitch.

It’s evening when they emerge from the sanctuary of the spa, perfumed with oils and products. All Chigiri is in the mood for is a takeaway and the company of a good book, but he supposes he should offer to drive his friends back to wherever they’re staying.

Fortunately, there’s a shining rental car pulled up beside Chigiri’s VW Golf. Leaning against the trunk are two glowering figures. His eyes widen in recognition. “Oh, hey—”

He doesn’t manage to complete the greeting before Shidou is barrelling past him, arms outstretched. “Saaaaae-chan!”

Shidou captures his husband in an embrace, lavishing kisses across his face. Rin pointedly takes a step away from them, scowl intensifying.

“We’re here to pick you up,” Sae says to Isagi over Shidou’s shoulder, expression passive. “And to make a drop off.”

He aims a kick at his brother’s calf, who grunts on impact. Teal eyes clash, before Rin reaches into his jacket pocket with a swear. He shoves a small envelope into Chigiri’s hand. “Don’t drag me into this kind of lukewarm nonsense ever again,” he gripes.

“Rensuke left you this?” Chigiri shreds the paper to pull out Kunigami’s latest letter. His fiancé’s words hit him like a sudden undercurrent, all but yanking his feet from under him.

Future husband,

They say absence makes the heart fonder, but it doesn’t make a difference to me. My heart is always fond of you, whether we’re apart or side by side. Everything you do, everything you say, all that you are—I love you, Hyouma.

I wish I could have spent today with you. Since you couldn’t bring your partner to the spa, I asked Sae and Rin if you could borrow theirs instead, then forward you this letter.

If you’re reading this, it means they’ve changed their minds since I spoke to them—so pass on my thanks.

Rensuke

“Huh, so musclehead knows how to write,” Shidou muses begrudgingly, peering over Chigiri’s shoulder without shame. “Like, it’s clichéd, but so is—wait. Sae babe, why did you tell him no?”

Sae shrugs. “Why would I agree? Their relationship is none of my concern.”

“But it’s romantic!” his husband whines. Shidou’s expression grows pensive as the cogs turn in his brain. “Should I try this? Write notes about my, like, love for you, my never-ending devotion, how wonderful you are and shit—then ask our friends to give ’em to you?”

Sae’s lip curls into a sneer. “Absolutely not, and I’ll divorce you if you try. Anyway, I could care less. Rin’s the one who had a change of heart. Guess he must have one after all.”

The grit of the younger Itoshi’s teeth is audible. He grabs Isagi by the hand. “Let’s go,” he mutters, interlocking their fingers as his boyfriend’s ears redden. “They’ve had their share of you. It’s my turn.”

“Calm down,” Isagi mutters, digging in his heels when Rin attempts to drag him towards the car. Although not entirely displeased by the display of possessiveness, he hovers out of concern. “Chi-kun? Are you—”

“Fine,” he snaps, dabbing his eyes. “I’m fine!”

“Oh crap! Red’s emotional,” Shidou jeers. “Is the princess missing his hero?”

“What do you think?” he retorts, clasping the letter to his chest. “Hey, I appreciated the company today. It was fun. But Shidou, you know I have trouble accepting you as a substitute for Rensuke.”

v.

Chigiri shows no signs of cold feet. If anything, his feet are on fire. He’d sign the paperwork there and then, no wedding required, if that would bring Kunigami back to him quicker.

He sighs, leaning away from the pile of wedding favours he’s been methodically bagging. Last night, Chigiri berated his fiancé for making him cry in front of Shidou and the Itoshis, before thanking him for that day’s letter. In return, Kunigami smiled at him with the lazy warmth of a summer sunset. “Are you embarrassed by how I feel about you?”

“I’m embarrassed by how much of a loser I’m being! These letters are making me miss you even more—it shouldn’t be possible to miss anybody this much. I want you home, Ren.”

“I want you always. Wherever that may be.”

“When do you land on Friday? I’ll wait at arrivals for you.”

At that, his fiancé hesitated. “I’ll have to check the times,” he replied, eyes flicking to the side. “But trust that I’ll get there as soon as I can—OK?”

Kunigami’s flight doesn’t land until tomorrow afternoon, per his follow-up message. Chigiri shouldn’t be so disappointed. They have the rest of the off-season together—weeks of each other’s company. If anything, he should relish the alone time.

But he won’t really have Kunigami to himself until after the wedding. The day itself will involve catching up with friends and loved ones, with nary a second’s privacy. Tomorrow evening will get eaten up by last-minute preparations, when all Chigiri wants is to curl up with his fiancé and forget about the world for a while.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself, he thinks, channelling Kunigami’s calm insistence. There’s too much to do, and just enough time to get it all done. At minimum, he wants to have these stupid favours finished before evening.

His thoughts are interrupted by a phone call. It’s from a courier. “Hyouma Chigiri? There’s only one of those ’round these parts. The footballer, right? Big fan. Great goal against Palace back in May. Doing us proud, you are. Anyway, I’ve dropped a package for you at reception.”

Amused, Chigiri returns to the apartment five minutes later, trying to recall if he was waiting on any deliveries. Perhaps he’d drunk-ordered something on Tuesday with Momoko. He rips through the black plastic packaging, to reveal… a blue-ribboned parcel inside. Of course.

“Reliable to a fault,” Chigiri huffs affectionately. For a change, he decides to open the envelope first.

Future husband,

We’re down to just hours, princess; I can’t wait to hold you again.

Did you know it’s traditional for brides in the West to receive four gifts on their wedding day? That’s the thinking behind all this. I thought my bridegroom might enjoy a twist on tradition. It’s our thing, after all.

You’ve had the old, the new, and the borrowed. Now for something blue. Put this on. A carriage will collect you at seven.

Also, don’t kill me. Your best man deserves most of the blame.

Rensuke.

It isn’t fair, how a few thoughtful words and the scent of his lover’s cologne are enough to bring him to tears. Chigiri Hyouma is cool, aloof and unflappable—not this sappy mess. But Kunigami has a way of getting under his skin, seeing through to the parts of himself he most wants to hide. That’s why he trusts his partner as wholly as he trusts himself.

“Hurry up and come home,” he hisses through his teeth as he wipes the moisture from his eyes. Forcing himself to breathe deeply, he opens the package.

Inside is a vest: sapphire blue and lined with scale-like sequins, it fits Chigiri perfectly, showcasing his lean arms and tight waist. When he twirls in front of the mirror, the sequins lift and twist, catching the light and turning him into a human disco ball.

It’s beautiful; Chigiri immediately adores his gift. But it does make him dread what’s in store for him tonight.

He sends a series of threatening voice notes. “Mikage Reo, I swear on your husband’s life—and don’t think I’ve never considered murdering him before, because you know I have—I swear, if you’re dragging me to a stag party tonight, I will make your life a living hell once I’m through with this wedding.”

The purple-haired midfielder sees them, but doesn’t reply. “Coward,” Chigiri mutters, throwing his phone across the room. He begins flicking through his wardrobe for something to match his new top, eventually settling on a pair of culottes and his faux-velvet creepers.

Reo eventually texts back, with an ominous Dress nice! :) :) :) Chigiri wonders how close he’d get to strangling his best man before Nagi suplexed him. Not close enough, he thinks fiercely.

He didn’t want a stupid stag night. What’s the point, when he and Kunigami share most of their close friends? He doesn’t like the idea of excluding their sisters or female friends either, for the sake of downing shots like a bunch of rowdy teenagers. The ideal celebration for him is a fun, relaxed night with everyone he cares about, including Kunigami—that’s why they’re having a wedding reception.

And if Reo tries taking him to a strip club, he’ll fake a cold and take an Uber home. How can he feign interest in a stripper, when he’ll have Kunigami motherfucking Rensuke back in his bed tomorrow evening?

He goes through the motions of showering, styling his hair, then carefully applying some tasteful make-up. OK, the glitter on his cheeks is borderline tacky—but the sequins were crying out for some sparkly company. He resembles a sultry mermaid by the time he’s done, with tousled waves of red hair.

He sends Kunigami a selfie with Kuro, holding up her paw in a wave, vindictively hoping the image makes his fiancé’s heart ache even a fraction as much as the letters made his. Chigiri promises to make it up to him tomorrow—somehow, in between farming out outfits to the wedding party and making sure everyone knows what they’re supposed to be doing on Saturday. But Kunigami doesn’t respond, inactive over the last few hours. Today might be press day for the ad campaign, he reasons. His fiancé is probably caught up doing interviews.

Seven arrives, and Chigiri leaves a snoozing Kuro behind, having spent the better part of an hour playing with her. The wedding favours lay abandoned on the dining table; he’ll have time in the morning tomorrow, he tells himself, topping up the cat’s food and water before slipping out the door.

His “carriage” turns out to be a stretch limo. Chigiri groans as it careens into view, taking the corners diagonally as it approaches his apartment block. When it draws up in front of him, the door opens to reveal his soon-to-be-ex best friend, grinning cheekily from one of the leather seats. Reo offers him a flute of champagne as he climbs inside.

“You look stunning,” he says, slapping his leg proudly. “Now throw that back fast, and stop thinking about torturing me.”

“I’m only here because, knowing you, this is going to be completely over the top,” he groans. “I don’t want to stand everyone up.”

Still, he allows Reo to plant a peck on his cheek. Beside him, Nagi glances up from his phone. Chigiri’s surprised to see they’re wearing matching blue suits. Normally Reo takes great care not only in dressing himself, but in co-ordinating outfits for his layabout husband. It’s unusual seeing them dressed so alike.

“Looking good, princess,” the forward mumbles, with a soft blink of his tawny eyes. “Kunigami’s gonna be so happy—”

“—he has no idea how lucky he is, marrying you!” Reo exclaims, clinking their glasses together. “I mean, he does—because I keep reminding him—but he’ll be so happy watching you walk up that aisle. I can’t wait to see it!”

“Sure,” Chigiri chuckles, taking in the manic shine in Reo’s eyes. “Nagi, how long has this idiot been drinking champagne for?”

“Not long enough!” Reo declares, reaching for the ice bucket. He tops up their glasses, then pops the cap off a vodka soda for Nagi. “It’s lemon flavoured,” he coaxes, as his husband sniffs the drink suspiciously. “You should like it.”

Nagi’s not a big drinker, out of sheer apathy, but he accepts the drink as Reo regales Chigiri with their latest news. The mystery of their destination is prolonged; Chigiri is only the first of many pick ups. Next to join the group is Bachira, sunkissed and beaming, who all but throws himself headfirst at the groom-to-be.

“Chigirin! I’m so happy to be marrying you,” he chimes, nuzzling his shoulder affectionately.

“Who else would I trust to do the honours?” he laughs, ruffling Bachira’s yellow-black curls. “It had to be our little bee. You’ve always been there for Ren and I.”

They’re joined in quick succession by Isagi, Rin, Sae, Shidou, Otoya, Karasu, Hiori, Yukimiya, Zantetsu, Niko, Aryu and Barou. Each arrival greets Chigiri warmly, before inevitably getting ribbed by one of their old teammates. The limo grows rowdy and squashed, as Reo distributes an endless stream of champagne and quips.

After the first few arrivals, Chigiri spots a pattern. Otoya’s trademark stripe of green hair is dyed sapphire, matching his sweater. Aryu is glamorous in a navy jumpsuit with a cobalt neckscarf, further elongating their towering height. Shidou pairs a baby blue crop top with denim cut-offs, accompanied by knee-high socks. Everyone is wearing blue.

Zantetsu is the odd one out, having misinterpreted the dress code somehow. He ducks into the limo dressed entirely in lime green, from the frames of his glasses right down to the most garish footwear Chigiri’s ever seen. Through a cacophony of laughter and cat-calls, Isagi offers to swap ties with the confused man, so he has something to match.

Though pleased to see his friends, Chigiri can’t help but wish Kunigami was here. It doesn’t feel right to celebrate their relationship without his hero by his side. Nevertheless, he jokes along with the rest. When the limo pulls to an final stop, he cranes his neck to see where it’s taken them.

It’s a hotel, bland in its modern interiors. Reo herds everyone out of the limo with the efficiency of a drill sergeant, directing the group to pass through the lobby and left, towards one of the conference rooms. As they crowd around the door, he pulls Chigiri to the front of the group with a shit-eating grin. “Royalty first,” he proclaims, yanking open the door and shoving the redhead inside. As Chigiri stumbles over the threshold, his heart near beats out of his chest. There’s a deafening shout: “SURPRISE!”

In front of him are the whole wedding party, each dressed in blue, chatting, drinking, even dancing on a makeshift dancefloor. The room isn’t large, but the classy interiors are illuminated in cool blue light. It’s not just his peers present either—he spots his family and Kunigami’s in one corner, as well as some of the top brass from Manshine City.

He is quickly engulfed by a scrum of well-wishers.

“Can't believe that a club rival is making an honest man of you,” Chris Prince exclaims, enthusiastically pumping Chigiri’s hand. “I’m judging you for your taste in footballers—but I wish you and Rensuke every happiness.”

“I’m so pleased for you!” an excitable Teieri Anri squeaks, cheeks pink. Otoya has an arm around her, characteristically unbothered. “It’s wonderful how Blue Lock forged so many relationships. I’m honoured to be able to celebrate with you!”

“You look great, little princess,” Aiku says next, with a wink. “I wouldn’t kick you out of bed myself.” This makes Chigiri’s attempts at small talk with a pouting Sendou rather trying.

Kanna, Kunigami’s younger sister, shrieks when he makes his way towards her, startling Kasumi and making Momoko laugh. “You’re getting married!” she cries, clutching his hands and swinging him around in a circle. Chigiri’s taken aback by the velocity of the younger woman’s throw—apparently freakish strength is a Kunigami family trait. Embarrassed, Kasumi attempts to reign in her sister, but it’s futile.

“I’m sorry he couldn’t be here,” Chigiri gabs, smiling helplessly at Kunigami’s parents as the world continues to spin. “But he’ll be around from tomor—”

“Just go enjoy yourself!” Kanna beams, releasing him to chatter excitedly with his in-laws.

It’s a whirlwind of meeting and greeting people, many of whom he hasn’t seen in years. The conference room has a serviced bar with an open tab, and whenever Chigiri finishes a drink, Reo appears to replace it with another. It concerns him, because how the hell is he going to get through tomorrow if he’s hungover? But the drinks alternate between gin and tonics and plain water. If Chigiri didn’t know better, he’d suspect Reo was deliberately keeping him sober.

As the night goes on, he takes to the dancefloor, losing himself to euphoric pop music. Joined by Bachira, Shidou, Reo and other friends, they chant the lyrics until they’re hoarse. Chigiri’s make up is melting off, and his hair is losing volume from sweat. He scarcely cares. For the first time since this week began, he’s living in the moment.

He takes a breather when a more hardcore rock song comes on, swerving as Otoya drags Karasu, Raichi and Yukimiya out on the floor. Shidou’s attempt to start a mosh pit ends with a pile-up of drunk, laughing footballers helping one another up off the floor.

Another glass is pushed into his hand. Grateful, he takes a sip. It’s sparkling water, for the second time in a row. Chigiri frowns. “Isn’t the point of tonight to get me pissed beyond recognition?” he asks Reo, who remains impeccably calm and composed despite dancing for nearly as long as he did.

“You’ll regret it if you do—trust me,” he replies. There’s a sheen in his violet eyes that Chigiri doesn’t trust. “The plan is to keep you in tip-top condition for tomorrow.”

“Don’t remind me,” he grimaces. “I still have wedding favours to bag, the suits to divvy out, and a voicemail from the florist about something.” He downs the water, fizz tickling his nose.

Reo grips his shoulders. “It’s the day before the wedding,” he enunciates slowly, staring down at Chigiri. “Please, Hyouma. Give yourself a break, already. I can handle the rest.”

Chigiri begins to argue, but his friend insists. “You should take tomorrow to focus on Rensuke and yourself,” he says, more softly than before. “Is that enough to convince you?”

“Easy for you to say,” he mutters, reminded of his fiancé’s arrival time. But Chigiri’s resolve is fraying at the edges. Everything else aside, he might have a breakdown if he has to spend another morning bagging thank-you cards and mini chocolates. It was bad sober—the thought of doing it hungover makes him shudder.

“Fine,” he exhales. “I’ll pass on the florist’s details tomorrow. It’s probably about the bouquet—remind them I asked for pink and peach roses, with white baby’s breath. Oh, and if you could organise the groomsmen and bridesmaids—”

“Consider it done.” Reo’s voice is reassuringly confident. He takes the empty glass from Chigiri’s hand, before affectionately swatting him towards the chatting guests at the bar. “Go socialise, and stop worrying. I’ve got this.”

Chigiri makes a pitstop in the bathroom to salvage his mused hair, before continuing to work the room. Hiori shows him his new engagement ring, smiling over at Karasu. He joins Aryu in trying to coax Barou onto the dancefloor, though their efforts end in vain. Then Chigiri is forced to adjudicate a debate over what character is the better main in some video game he’s never heard of. He picks the better-looking one, leaving Niko triumphant and Nagi glum.

He’s in the midst of catching up with his mother and sister when the lights dim. His attention is drawn to the DJ booth, where Reo stands under a bright spotlight. The footballer taps a microphone, clearing his throat as the music fades.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and not-so-gentle-men,” he says in perfect English, earning a few chuckles. “Please join me in toasting to the man of the hour, the groom-to-be, Blue Lock’s one and only princess: Chigiri!”

The room erupts into cheers as another spotlight finds a cringing Chigiri. Planting a hand on his hip, he draws a finger across his throat at Reo. It makes the crowd laugh, even as his friends and family raise their glasses towards him.

“I’ll sleep with one eye open tonight!” his friend grins. He beckons at Chigiri, lord-like, and someone from behind shoves the redhead forward. His face grows hot as he crosses the dancefloor to stand at Reo’s side.

“I’m taking applications for a new best man,” he sputters into the mic when Reo holds it out to him. “Jokes aside—thanks Reo, and thanks everyone for coming tonight. It was a wonderful surprise.”

His friend snatches the mic back with a cheeky grin. “The best is yet to come,” he says with a wink, as their audience catcalls. “Chigiri, all of us hold you dear to our hearts. It’s been a pleasure to celebrate with you tonight, ahead of your big day. But, I must admit, it feels wrong holding a party in your honour, without acknowledging the absence of your fiancé.”

Chigiri fidgets, pulling at the hem of his vest. Expression plaintive, Reo conducts a drawn-out awww from the crowd, before letting a sombre hush fall. It only breaks when Karasu shouts “He’s not dead!” from the back of the room, making everyone laugh.

“No, he’s not,” Reo chuckles, gesturing for the guests to settle down. “For those who don't know, Kunigami had to travel for work this week, which has been challenging for his husband-to-be. As happy as Chigiri is to see all of you, there’s one face he wants to see above everyone else’s: his hero’s. On that note—unfortunately—I have some bad news to share.”

The crowd gasps, as Chigiri stares at his best man. “Kunigami is going to miss his flight home tomorrow,” Reo sighs, running a hand through his hair. “He told me this morning.”

“What—what are you—?” Chigiri grabs his wrist, but Reo shakes him off. When Chigiri exclaims in indignation, he only grins.

“What do you think everyone? Time for the reveal?” he asks, receiving a resounding yes! Reo turns back to Chigiri, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Time to put our princess out of his misery, then. You see Chigiri, Kunigami has one last surprise for you. He won't board tomorrow’s flight—but he has a good excuse for missing it. So everyone, one last time, may I ask you to please raise your glasses in a toast—to Kunigami Rensuke!”

The door to the conference room swings ajar, revealing a beaming Isagi. He holds it open, as a figure walks into the room—tall, tired-looking, with a carryall slung over his shoulder. Kunigami smiles ruefully, raising his hand in salute, as everyone cheers. His eyes scan the room, hesitant until they meet Chigiri’s.

He’s running before he realises it.

The applause and laughter fades in Chigiri’s ears as he jumps into Kunigami’s arms, legs wrapping around his hips. With a pleased grunt, Kunigami pulls him into a tight embrace. Some of the tension eases from his broad shoulders as the redhead raises his head to kiss him, in a desperate press of longing and relief.

“Hyouma,” he murmurs against his lips, as Chigiri’s fingers tangle in his hair. “I missed you so much.”

“When did you arrive?” he spits out, too shocked to process the confused knot of feelings in his chest. “Ren, why didn’t you tell me? I can’t belie—damn it, I missed you too. So, so much.”

“I came straight from the airport,” Kunigami says, breath hot on Chigiri’s ear. He kisses the lobe, before burying his face against his neck. “The director rejigged things to finish the shoot early, after I told her I was getting married this weekend. I didn’t tell you, in case it didn’t work out…”

Chigiri doesn’t care about the how, the why, or the fact that they’re being watched by everyone they know. He kisses Kunigami again, more leisurely this time, sucking on his bottom lip. When his fiancé gasps, his tongue darts into the heat of his mouth. Kunigami growls in appreciation, pulling Chigiri’s thighs closer.

“Folks, how about we excuse the grooms-to-be for tonight and let them catch up?” Reo asks. Shidou leads a chorus of wolf-whistles. “OK lovebirds, you’re excused. I’ll stop by in the morning, so please be decent when I arrive. Not too early though—the party’s only starting! Oh, and Ren—I’m banking on you performing your husbandly duties well enough tonight that your fiancé doesn’t kill me next time he sees me. Don’t let me down!”

Reo mimes dropping the mic, waggling his eyebrows as his spotlight fades and the music starts back up. As infuriating as he is—all of this is—Chigiri makes a mental note to thank his best man. A small thank you, among the extensive cursing he deserves.

“We can stay,” Kunigami says, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “If you’re enjoying yourself, I don’t mind sta—”

“Shut up,” Chigiri mutters, between bruising kisses, “and take me home already.” Kunigami laughs, palming his ass with an appreciative squeeze.

“The princess gets what he wants,” he says huskily, gaze warm.

“Future husband,” Chigiri corrects, sliding to his feet with a delicious drag against Kunigami’s midriff. “I’ve grown fond of reading that. Now I want to hear you say it.”

“Now? Or when we’re in bed?”

“Bold to assume I’ll sleep with you, after pulling this stunt.” Chigiri laces their fingers together, pulling his fiancé out of the conference room and into a corner where they can make out with a semblance of privacy. “But yes.”

vi.

“We should get up,” Kunigami sighs, attempting to swing a leg out of bed. Slender fingers wrap around his wrist and yank him back onto the mattress, accompanied by a dissatisfied growl.

“Hyouuuma.”

“Rensuke.”

“I’m serious,” he says, making another escape attempt. “Stop making fun of me.” This time, Chigiri rolls onto all fours and plonks down on his chest, snuggling into him like a living blanket.

“I’m making the most of you,” the redhead corrects, as Kunigami strokes his back. “So no. We shouldn’t get up.”

“Reo will be here soon,” he warns, as Chigiri plants feathery kisses along his jaw. “And we should really tidy up the living room.”

The trail of clothes leading to the sofa, not to mention the cushions strewn across the floor, are rather incriminating.

“Don’t care,” his fiancé hums, nipping his earlobe. Kunigami’s hands sink to Chigiri’s hips, which rut shamelessly against his.

“I thought you were tired.”

“I thought I was too,” he replies teasingly, before lifting up to straddle him. “But I have other priorities. Like this.”

Chigiri slowly rocks against him, dragging their flesh together and eliciting a soft moan from the man between his thighs. He grins in triumph.

Kunigami takes the opportunity to study his fiancé. His red hair falls in limp, tangled waves. His cheeks are smudged with leftover make-up and glitter. There’s a bruise near his collarbone, joined by several smaller ones, like falling blossoms from a cherry tree—oops. Nobody will see them under Chigiri’s wedding suit, he reasons.

He has morning breath, same as Kunigami, and needs a shower. He’s demanding at times, lazy, moody. But he’s also one of the most incredible people he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting, and without doubt the most alluring. Best of all, just twenty-four hours from now, his amazing fiancé will walk down the aisle to marry him.

He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve such fortune.

Kunigami sits up to capture Chigiri’s soft lips. He’s so full of love for him, and so excited for their future. Though, not so overcome by emotion that he can ignore the ongoing efforts to locate their cocks between their crushed hips.

“Insatiable,” he mutters, hands roaming to Chigiri’s taut ass, squeezing it as the redhead finally wraps a hand around both their erections. “Future husband, we should keep some gas in the tank for tomorrow night.”

Chigiri snorts, as he begins to jerk their cocks in tandem. Kunigami’s eyes flutter shut with a groan. “Like that’s ever been a problem. Just one of many reasons I’m marrying you.”

vii.

Reo is fretting—redoing his tie, patting stray hairs into place, triple-checking that his cufflinks are secured. “Lay off,” Chigiri mutters, swatting at his friend. “I’m not Nagi. Do I look alright?”

“You look gorgeous,” he admits, although the purple-haired man can’t seem to resist smoothing out the lapels of Chigiri’s grey suit. “But we still have time, if you want to be totally sure.”

He shakes his head. “I’m ready,” he insists, reaching for his bouquet. Reo cocks an eyebrow.

“Seriously? You? On time for your wedding? This is the one time you get a pass for being late, you know.”

“I don’t want to make Ren wait,” he replies. Reo claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wavering. “Oh, don’t start. You were worse the morning of your wedding.” Chigiri drops his voice an octave, to mock-pace the boudoir that’s been set aside for them. “Who’s going to make sure my treasure wakes up on time? What if he doesn’t know how to tie his cravat? What if he can’t be bothered to show up? Please, just let me check on hi—”

Reo swallows his sentiment and chuckles roughly. “I’m just acknowledging the character development,” he says, guiding Chigiri towards the door. “You’ve come a long way since making Rensuke wait around for you to dry your hair.”

“You say that like I still don’t,” Chigiri laughs, as they join his sister and Nagi outside the door of the function hall. The three men wear light grey suits accented with pink roses, with Chigiri wearing a cream waistcoat. Momoko wears a pale pink dress, and winks at him as they line up outside the door.

On cue, Isagi pokes his head out the door. “All systems go?”

“Princess squad is in position,” Nagi says dully. Chigiri rolls his eyes.

“Hero squad on standby to intercept,” the blue-eyed striker grins. “The doors will open in a minute. Good luck, Chi-kun.”

Chigiri takes steadying breaths as he counts down the seconds in his head. He’s not nervous. Why would he be? The love of his life is waiting for him. He wants this. He’s ready.

Reo turns around, squeezing his hand. “Focus on Ren,” he whispers with a knowing smile. “Tune out everything else. It helps.”

He nods, not trusting himself to speak. The doors open, allowing the lilt of harp music to flow over them. Momoko begins to walk slowly down the aisle, trailed by Nagi. Reo gives him a thumbs up behind his back before he joins the procession. Five seconds later, Chigiri follows suit.

There’s soft gasps from the audience as he enters. When his gaze flickers to the front row, he spots his mother, already in tears. Chigiri begs the lump in his throat to go away, as he looks towards the front of the room.

Bachira stands in the centre, all in black but for a yellow scarf hanging either side of his neck. It’s speckled with embroidered bumblebees. He waves cheerfully at Chigiri, nearly dropping his book of vows. Raichi, Kunigami’s other groomsman, growls at him. At his side, Kasumi looks stunning in an orange version of Momoko’s dress. But he only has eyes for her brother.

Kunigami's stance is stiff, hands clasped behind his back. Initially stoic, his shoulders sag when their eyes meet. He sighs in relief. Isagi nudges his side and whispers something with a smile, but Kunigami doesn’t break eye contact with Chigiri as he walks down the aisle.

Momoko, Nagi and Reo fall into position to the right of Bachira, and Chigiri joins Kunigami at the front of the hall. His hair has been styled clear of his forehead, defiantly spiky. His suit matches Chigiri’s, although the material is taupe rather than grey, with a peach rose secured to the lapel.

“Hey,” he breathes. “You look beautiful.”

“You’re not half bad yourself,” he replies, relieved when his voice doesn’t shake. “Last chance to change your mind.”

“Never,” Kunigami smiles, holding out his hands. Reo whisks the bouquet from him, so Chigiri can slide his fingers into his fiancé’s waiting palms. The nerves leave him as Kunigami’s reassuring warmth radiates into his skin.

“Good morning everyone,” Bachira begins, beaming at the assembled guests. “You’re all very welcome on this sunny summer day. We tend to take things like good weather for granted—well, maybe not here in England—but I’m truly thankful for the sunshine today. Because it marks the beginning of something special.”

He pats his friends’ joined hands, before gesturing at the crowd. “This morning, we’re here to celebrate the marriage of Rensuke Kunigami and Hyouma Chigiri—two bright, caring people whose love is comparable to the gentle warmth of the sun. It’s certainly as enduring and constant. As the cherished family, friends and loved ones of this happy couple, I know you’re just as excited as I am for Rensuke and Hyouma to start this new chapter in their relationship. So, let’s get this show on the road.”

Chigiri laughs along with the guests at his friend’s effervescent invocation. Kunigami is grinning, handsome and relaxed.

“Ready to say your vows?” Bachira asks them, unable to subdue his own grin. “Best men, are the rings good to go?”

Reo nods confidently, but Isagi pats up and down his suit with a stunned look. Chigiri tenses, the pit of his stomach dropping. Seeing his reaction, his friend cracks, pulling a ring box from his back pocket. “Just joking,” he winces, as Raichi kicks him in the shin. “I have it.”

“Kinni-kun? Chigirin?” Bachira checks, glancing between them.

“Never readier,” Kunigami says, smiling down at Chigiri. “How about you, princess?”

“I’m ready, hero,” he replies, squeezing his hands. “Now, marry us already.”

They emerge into dazzling sunlight, gripping each other’s hands tightly. Before their eyes can adjust, they’re pelted by rice as their friends cheer.

“This way!” Kunigami calls, doing his best to shield Chigiri’s head from the white grains. Laughing, they run towards the blue vintage Cadillac waiting for them at the end of the path.

Chigiri stops beside it, squeezing his husband’s hand. “One second,” he says, glancing over his shoulder with his bouquet aloft. “Here’s a chance to show off your handballing, boys!”

Turning back, he flings the bouquet overhead. Kunigami merely sighs as a minor scuffle breaks out. At first, it looks like Sendou will get it—tracking the bouquet as it sails through the air, he nearly elbows Kurona in the face while positioning himself in the bouquet’s trajectory. A burst of wind intervenes, sending the flowers left. Sendou makes a dive, but mistimes it. Instead, the bouquet tumbles in front of Isagi, who catches it on instinct. As realisation sinks in, his dumbfounded expression is picture worthy. Beside him, Rin tenses like a scalded cat, as Shidou, Karasu and their other friends begin their teasing.

Shaking his head fondly, Chigiri slides into the middle seat of the car, leaning up against Kunigami’s side. He puts his arm around him, squeezing his shoulder. Chigiri caresses his hand, admiring the contrast between their rings. Though identical, his is white gold, while Kunigami’s is a warm yellow.

“Married,” the taller of the two says contentedly, as the driver starts the engine. “Husbands. I’m married to Hyouma, my husband. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”

“Sure does Ren—I mean, husband.”

Kunigami chuckles, as he leans over to kiss him. He smells of roses, of his usual cologne, but most of all, like Rensuke. The letters could never compare.

That reminds me. A sly smile slides onto his face. As they pull away, Kunigami studies Chigiri with warm eyes. “What are you scheming?” he asks, with a gentle poke to his stomach.

“I was just thinking about where I left your gifts,” he replies off-hand. “I’ve misplaced two of them—Shidou and Isagi.”

“They’ll be at the reception,” Kunigami laughs, shaking his head. “But Sae and Rin might take issue with you claiming them.”

“There’s also this,” Chigiri says, patting his chest. He pulls out his makeshift pocketsquare with a grin, blue fabric unfurling to its full length.

“Not the stupid tie,” Kunigami mock-groans.

“Told you I’d work it into my outfit somehow.”

“I should have believed you. I’ll never live it down if that gets back to the club.”

“Play stupid games, dear husband. But look.”

He retrieves a spare blue sequin from his trouser pocket, holding it out for Kunigami’s inspection. “Something blue,” he says, expression growing shrewd. “The tie was the something old, while Shidou and Isagi are the something borrowed. You have three of your gifts here. So, does that mean…?”

Chigiri pulls away, folding his hands on his lap. He smirks at his husband, whose gaze is roving his body. “That’s for you to discover, whenever we get a minute to ourselves.”

Kunigami smiles wolfishly. “Damn, Hyouma. Which one?”

“What did I just say? That’s for me to know—and you to find out.”

“How on earth am I meant to concentrate on the reception after hearing that?” Kunigami groans, running a hand along Chigiri’s thigh. He pauses, biting his lip, before looking at his husband with feigned seriousness. “I think I need to make an unscheduled detour to the honeymoon suite. It’s unavoidable, I’m afraid. Can’t be helped.”

“Excellent idea. Unfortunate, but understandable given the circumstances. We can blame… a wardrobe malfunction.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“A wonderful one.”

“Then it's decided.”

His new husband grins. The familiar expression still gives him butterflies, after all this time. “I love you, Hyouma,” Kunigami says, squeezing his knee.

“I love you too,” he says, snuggling into his chest. “Forever husband.”