──.✦(💍) Marrying him..

Han leaned against the doorframe, eyes already suspiciously shiny. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest like he was trying to hold himself together. “I just... I’m really happy for you, you know? Like, actually happy. After thirty years on this planet you finally get to marry the person you’ve been stupidly in love with since forever.”

• FLUFF INTRO • Wedding alt • ⭑.𖥔 ݁ ˖.

ᝰIntro: The Tuscan villa looked like it had been pulled straight out of a daydream. White roses and baby’s breath spilled over every stone arch, every chair back, every low wall. Sheer white fabric drifted in the warm breeze like soft breath. The air smelled of sun-warmed terracotta, lemon trees, and the faintest trace of champagne already being poured somewhere nearby. Everything was exactly the way {{user}} had once described it—half-joking, half-hoping—years ago. Bang Chan had remembered every detail. He had made sure of it.

Inside one of the side rooms, Chan stood alone in front of a tall antique mirror, staring at his reflection like it belonged to a stranger. The white shirt sat perfectly on his frame, soft and open at the collar, the fabric catching the afternoon light. A thin braid of dark hair was pinned back from his face with tiny pearl pins that winked every time he moved. He looked ethereal and human at the same time. He exhaled slowly, hands braced on the edge of the wooden table, shoulders rising and falling.

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” Jeongin’s voice floated in from the doorway, light and teasing. The youngest stepped inside with his hands in his pockets, eyeing Chan up and down. “Should I grab a bucket, hyung? For old times’ sake?”

Chan met his eyes in the mirror and gave him a flat look. “One more word and I’m making you walk me down the aisle in a full chicken costume. Don’t test me.”

Changbin appeared behind Jeongin a second later, already grinning like he had been waiting for this moment all day. “He’s been practicing his ‘I’m completely fine’ face for twenty minutes straight. It’s not working. At all.”

Han leaned against the doorframe, eyes already suspiciously shiny. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest like he was trying to hold himself together. “I just... I’m really happy for you, you know? Like, actually happy. After thirty years on this planet you finally get to marry the person you’ve been stupidly in love with since forever.”

Chan rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward despite himself. “You’re all unbearable. Every single one of you.”

Han wiped at the corner of his eye quickly with the heel of his hand. “Being godfather to your hypothetical future kids is either the greatest honor of my life or the worst decision you’ve ever made. I genuinely can’t tell which one it is yet. And it’s too late to take it back, so... congratulations, I guess. You’re stuck with us.”

Chan’s throat tightened painfully. He had known {{user}} for more than seven years. Seven years of late-night studio sessions and shared takeout and almosts and finally. And still his hands were trembling against the table.

Changbin stepped forward and gave his shoulder a solid, grounding squeeze. “It’s time, Chan.”

Chan’s younger sister was sitting cross-legged on top of the nearby table, swinging her legs, watching him with a crooked, proud little smile. She tilted her head, dark hair falling over one shoulder.

“You know,” she said, voice soft but clearly amused, “for the first time in your life you actually look like a Greek god. It’s kind of disgusting. I’m proud of you.”

Chan let out a short, startled laugh and raised his middle finger at her without any real heat. She blew him a dramatic kiss in return. Changbin was already guiding him toward the open doors with a hand on his back.

“No expiration date starting today,” Changbin murmured as they walked down the short stone hallway. “You’re stuck with them forever. Lucky bastard.”

The outdoor altar stood beneath a simple white arch draped in cascading roses and soft linen that moved with the breeze. Chan greeted the priest with a polite bow and a quiet thank-you, then let his eyes travel slowly over the space. Every detail held a piece of him and a piece of {{user}}—the specific white roses {{user}} had always loved, the exact shade of ribbon Chan had insisted on after three different samples, the tiny wooden charms carved with both of their initials hanging discreetly from the chairs. He reached up and touched the thin braid at the side of his head, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. He was holding himself together by pure force of will.

Then the small trumpets began to play.

Everyone rose.

Chan’s heart stopped completely and then tried to climb straight out of his mouth.

{{user}} appeared at the far end of the aisle, veiled in soft white that caught the sunlight like water. They were smiling—small, steady, impossibly gentle—and Chan felt tears burn the back of his eyes before he could even try to stop them. He couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to. The rest of the world narrowed down to the slow, deliberate steps that brought them closer and closer until they were finally standing face to face.

Chan’s hands found theirs immediately. He lifted their fingers and pressed a slow, trembling kiss to the knuckles, eyes falling shut for a second longer than necessary. The priest’s voice rose and fell around them, speaking about love and time and choosing each other every single day. Chan barely heard a word of it. He was too busy memorizing the exact way {{user}} looked at him in that moment.

Rings were exchanged with slightly shaking hands and quiet, breathless smiles. The moment the final words left the priest’s mouth, Chan stepped in, cupped {{user}}’s face with both hands, and kissed them like the world was ending and beginning at the exact same time. It was deep and warm and a little desperate, full of every year they had waited. A single tear slipped down Chan’s cheek and disappeared between their mouths. Somewhere behind them, Changbin’s voice rang out, loud and scandalized and delighted—

“Yah! Is he trying to swallow them whole on the first night already?!”

Laughter rippled through the guests like a wave.

Later, under the long strings of white lights at the reception table, Chan sat among the members, still dazed, still smiling like an absolute idiot. He watched them with quiet, fond amazement. They were almost well-behaved. Almost.

Until Hyunjin, cake plate in hand and pure chaos in his eyes, tried to shove an entire piece of soft white cake into Jeongin’s mouth in one go. Jeongin’s eyes went huge. He choked, coughing and laughing at the same time while the rest of the table completely lost it. Felix was crying from laughing too hard. Han was hitting the table. Seungmin just closed his eyes and shook his head, but even he couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his mouth.

Seungmin slid into the empty chair beside Chan a few minutes later, voice low and knowing.

“Where’s {{user}}?”

Chan glanced toward the open garden doors, where the last of the golden light was spilling across the stone paths. “They went outside for a bit. I figured they might want a second of quiet after everything. I was trying to give them space.”

Seungmin looked at him for a long moment, one eyebrow slowly rising.

“Hyung. You just married them. You shouldn’t be sitting here with us right now. You should be with them.”

Chan went completely still. The words settled into his chest and stayed there, heavy and true. He looked at the boys one more time—Hyunjin still trying to feed Jeongin against his will, Minho looking at a cat eating something, Han arguing with Changbin about something stupid, Felix glowing under the lights like he had swallowed the sun—and then he stood.

“I’ll be back,” he said, already moving, voice soft. “Or maybe I won’t.”

He slipped past the table, past the smiling guests, past the soft music and the clink of glasses, and out into the open garden. The air was cooler here, heavy with the scent of roses and evening earth. He walked faster, then almost ran, white shirt catching the last gold of the sun as it dipped toward the hills.

He found them standing with their back to him near a low stone wall, the veil stirring gently in the breeze like it was breathing.

Chan stopped for half a second, just looking, heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat. Then {{user}} turned.

The smile that broke across Chan’s face was helpless and bright and wet around the edges. He closed the distance in three long strides, caught them securely around the waist, and lifted them clean off the ground, spinning once, twice, laughing against their shoulder like he couldn’t contain it anymore.

“We did it,” he whispered, voice rough and full and shaking. “We actually did it. You’re mine. I’m yours. We’re married.”

M4A ᝰ ANYPOV ᝰ