Page 93 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

“Same,” he said, patting the top of Zoe’s head before she pulled away and went to sit on Mike’s lap.

The minister ran through the greeting and said a few things, and it was all a blur for Tommy. Until the guy asked, “Did you prepare your vows?”

Not exactly. But Tommy was up, so no time for regrets. “Kinda,” he said with a nod, getting a chuckle from the minister and a few others in the crowd. Bobby rolled his eyes, but his expression was fond, amused. Tommy cleared his throat. “I been racking my brain tryin’ to think of what I should say up here. Because whatever it is, it’s gotta be special, right? And true. ’Cause you’re special to me, Bobby. In a way I didn’t know a person could be special. And I don’t make promises I might not be able to keep, so what’s that leave?” He took a breath, bit his lip between his teeth before going on. “I can’t tell ya I’ll never fuck up, because I don’t have the best track record for that, so that’s off the table.”

When Gene muttered, “Understatement of the decade,” Tommy almost flipped him off, but he stopped himself and simply huffed a laugh.

“Fine. I guess I’m tellin’ you right now, I will fuck up. Sometimes I’ll probably fuck up big. So big you might not wanna look at me. So big, you might think this was a mistake. So, now’s your chance, copper. Because after this—after we say it and sign the shit—that’s it. You’re it. For me. Been it for me for a while now. And I promise you I’ll never walk away from us. I’ll never give up on us. I’ll never give up on you.” And for some reason, this last bit was the hardest to say. The lump in Tommy’s throat almost didn’t let the words out. “You’re my favorite. My favorite color is right there in your eyes, and every song I like is because I heard it with you, food I ate with you. Because for the first fucking time in my life, I don’t just wanna survive. I wanna live. With you. And that’s my promise. I’ll live with you and be with you and grow old with you. And no matter what comes at us, I’ll be right beside you, loving you till I die. Maybe longer than that.”

Bobby let out a wet sigh, his eyes shimmering, closer to tears than Tommy had maybe ever seen him.

“Fuck you, Tom,” he whispered, laughing softly. “I had everything written out, even some stupid poem that doesn’t really mean anything when I measure it against us—what we’ve been through, what we’ll go through, what we mean to each other. So, yeah. I’ll fuck up too. Hopefully not as badly as you because I like my view from the high ground.”

Tommy couldn’t help but chuckle because, yeah, Bobby had his flag planted on the moral high ground and would probably never give up that spot.

“But I’ll fuck up. I can’t even promise to never get mad or never eat cookies in bed or never walk away in the middle of a fight. But I promise I’ll always come back if I do. I promise I’ll love you and be with you and grow old with you, and I’ll do it all for you. For us. For our family. I’ll do anything I have to. Because you’re my favorite too.”

Tommy let out a tight exhale and leaned his forehead against Bobby’s, took both his hands and held tight. “I love you,” he whispered.

“Love you too, Tom.”

And Tommy barely heard it when the minister asked if they’d stay together through sickness and health, rich or poor, be faithful to one another. He simply muttered a quiet “I do,” and Bobby did the same because, hell, they were already together for all of that.

Max wedged himself between them, held his pillow up over his head for them to take their rings when the time came. Tommy hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t thought he’d feel different when Bobby slid that band over his finger, when he did the same for Bobby. But he did. Somehow. In some small way. More connected to Bobby than he had been a moment earlier. More connected to him than he’d ever been. And he hoped that feeling would last, would be there forever.

Tears started to carve a slow track down his cheeks from behind closed eyes, and when the minister told them they could kiss, that they were married, Bobby slid his hands up Tommy’s arms, over his shoulders, threaded his fingers through Tommy’s hair, and pressed their lips together in a slow, soft kiss. One that Tommy would probably remember for his whole life because it was perfect and right and real and held every emotion, every good thing that ever existed.

People clapped and hooted and made jokes, and Tommy didn’t hear a word of it, just sank himself into that kiss and grinned against Bobby’s mouth before they pulled back, hand in hand.

“Think anyone would notice now if we sneak off?” Tommy asked with a laugh.

“We’ve got twenty minutes while people clear these chairs and move everything to the reception area.” They’d roped off the other side yard for the reception, with tables and a small portable dance area, a stand for the DJ—well, DJ was a stretch. One of Mike’s friends with speakers and a playlist on his phone. Tommy would probably regret that, but for now, he didn’t care.

“We can do a lot with twenty minutes,” he said, even as Zoe ran to him, wanting to be picked up. Bobby hefted Max onto his hip, and Tommy swung Zoe around with a little kiss for her before Judy, mercifully, came and got both of them.

“Let your… let Tommy and Bobby have a minute, and then we’ll see them in a bit for cake,” she said before hugging Bobby. She looked at Tommy, laughing. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard fuck in wedding vows.”

“Did you really expect that to go any differently?”

“No. And I’m glad you’re still you,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek before pulling away. “You two go freshen up and then come join everyone for the reception.”

“Will do,” Tommy said and dragged Bobby back into the house, through the living room, and off to the side through the door to the apartment, Bobby laughing the entire way.

He looked like he was about to say something, but Tommy pressed him up against the door as soon as they closed it, ground his hips against Bobby’s, took his mouth in a kiss so deep he couldn’t breathe or think or care about a single goddamn thing other than the warmth of Bobby’s skin, the palm of Bobby’s hand touching Tommy’s where their fingers were laced together. “You’re my husband,” Tommy whispered when he pulled back, words he’d never thought he’d say, not in his wildest dreams. But since getting together with Bobby, there were a million things he never thought he’d say, and he said them all the time now.

Chapter Five

Bobby

“And you’re mine,” Bobby whispered, loving it. Loving it so much that it filled him up inside, made the world look like a better place, made the future look bright and kind and happy, as if he could see it all, laid out at their feet. “Should’ve kissed me like that up there,” he said, unable to stop the grin.

Tom didn’t pull back much, didn’t tug him away from the door to their bedroom. Instead, he pressed harder against him, trailed his free hand down Bobby’s body. “Thought about it,” he said, voice raw and hushed, amusement mingling with emotion. “Wasn’t sure how much we wanted to show all those coworkers of yours, though.”

Not to mention the kids, but Bobby didn’t say. “My brothers could get over it,” he muttered instead, one hand still laced with Tom’s, picking at Tom’s jacket buttons with the other. “This was a terrible idea. We’re either gonna wrinkle everything or get come all over my uniform.”

“Not the first time,” Tom said with a wicked grin before leaning in and nipping Bobby’s neck with his teeth.

“True.” Bobby could think of a few instances because for a long time—and sometimes even now—all they had were stolen moments for a quick and dirty handjob or one of them down on their knees. “Sure you want our first time together as husbands to be all rushed and quiet?”

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