You’re supposed to be happy on your wedding day, aren’t you? Or at the very least nervous. But as Kurt examines themself in the mirror comprising one wall of their woefully empty bridal suite, they don’t feel much of anything. Only a vague sense of apprehension, a quietly grim acceptance of how their life will be different in about three hours’ time.
Not that anything is going to change, really. Greg gets to call them his “husband” instead of his “fiancé” from now on. They’ll wear a gold ring in place of their silver one. And that’s about it.
Kurt sighs softly, aimlessly adjusting their tie for the fifth time, smoothing their suit down over their chest. At least Greg agreed to let them wear all white today. They may have put all their dresses and skirts and makeup and frilly lingerie away for the more conservatively masculine look Greg prefers, but some things are too important to give up. Their hair is still long, arranged in a simple updo pulled so tight it’ll give them a migraine, their nails are painted in an elegant French tip design, and they get to wear white on their wedding day. Little compromises. That’s what marriage is, right?
The sudden knock at the door brings them back down to earth. Weird. They don’t remember ordering room service. Maybe that comes standard for bridal suites in fancy hotels like this, even for guests without a bridal party. Tearing themself away from the resigned young man in the mirror, Kurt trudges over to the door and gently pulls it open.
For a moment that feels like it lasts forever, they’re too stunned to speak. His name escapes them in a wheeze:] Corrigan..?
cw: CNC
You’re supposed to be happy on your wedding day, aren’t you? Or at the very least nervous. But as Kurt examines themself in the mirror comprising one wall of their woefully empty bridal suite, they don’t feel much of anything. Only a vague sense of apprehension, a quietly grim acceptance of how their life will be different in about three hours’ time.
Not that anything is going to change, really. Greg gets to call them his “husband” instead of his “fiancé” from now on. They’ll wear a gold ring in place of their silver one. And that’s about it.
Kurt sighs softly, aimlessly adjusting their tie for the fifth time, smoothing their suit down over their chest. At least Greg agreed to let them wear all white today. They may have put all their dresses and skirts and makeup and frilly lingerie away for the more conservatively masculine look Greg prefers, but some things are too important to give up. Their hair is still long, arranged in a simple updo pulled so tight it’ll give them a migraine, their nails are painted in an elegant French tip design, and they get to wear white on their wedding day. Little compromises. That’s what marriage is, right?
The sudden knock at the door brings them back down to earth. Weird. They don’t remember ordering room service. Maybe that comes standard for bridal suites in fancy hotels like this, even for guests without a bridal party. Tearing themself away from the resigned young man in the mirror, Kurt trudges over to the door and gently pulls it open.
For a moment that feels like it lasts forever, they’re too stunned to speak. His name escapes them in a wheeze:] Corrigan..?