Two First Names and An Ampersand
Title: Two First Names and An Ampersand
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Alex Greenwald/Greta Salpeter
POV: 3rd
Summary: “Greta Greenwald always did have a ring to it,” For the schmoop_bingo wedding consummation prompt. ~700 words. (Also I get to use my Greenwald icon \o/)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything and this is untrue. Title is from Why?'s "These Few Presidents".
Greta grins up at Alex when he moves the veil from her face. "You look different," he jokes and she moves as if she's going to pinch him, but realizes where they are right now. Instead, she wrinkles her nose and joins in him front of the officiant. After their vows, and before they kiss, she whispers in his ear. It's a lovely picture for the crowd of people, one that looks fantastic on their mantle later, but the words she whispers would make any of their guests blush. The kiss they share certainly does.
: :
When they finally escape from the party, not without a wink from their friends first, Alex wraps an arm around her waist. "I'm not buff enough to carry you all the way up through the hotel," he tells her, "but maybe from the elevators. We'll see." Greta starts to protest, spouting off facts about the origin of the tradition, but he silences her with a kiss.
Someone whistles, and they break apart, his grin filling his entire face. They race to the elevator, however, waiting dressed in wedding attire being somewhat awkward. They whisper dirty things to each other on the ride up, the businessman in the elevator with them staring at them from the corner of his eye. When they finally reach their floor (“Honeymoon suite,” Alex says, giggling and Greta joins in), Alex tightens his grip on her waist, and then she feels his arms sweep her up. He reassures her that he’s not going to drop her, but she still holds onto his shoulder.
He fumbles with the door key before finally setting her down. “Hold on, this key doesn’t like me,” he tells her, and Greta laughs. Her wedding gown pools around her, her blonde tresses tangled in the tiny pearl buttons up the back.
"You're swiping it backwards," she says, and he scowls.
“I knew that!” Alex says, flipping the card and finally the small light turns green. He picks her up again and says, “It only really counts if I carry you over the threshold.” He drops her on a side chair, then leans in to kiss her.
“You know what you did earlier?” she asks when they separate, and he kisses her again. “Like, with my garter and your teeth?” once they come up for air again.
“Maybe?” he asks, going in for another, but she presses a hand against his chest.
“Do you want to do it again, but with something else? Except for the whole throwing it at people thing. I’d be good without it,” she says, grinning and Alex kisses her again, deep enough that she can’t smile into it any longer. He makes his way down, kissing through the silk of her dress, just enough pressure and heat that she can feel him through the material. When he pushes Greta’s dress up over her knees, she laughs at the look of him, surrounded by white and cream lace and silk.
“What are you laughing at?” he asks before grabbing the tiny blue panties her mother had gotten her specially as part of the old wedding tradition with his teeth. (The dress was her grandmother’s, the shoes borrowed from her cousin and the pearl necklace an early wedding present from Alex’s sister.) “This is really hard,” he says, teeth gritted as he attempts to pull them down, “Will you help?” She wriggles and finally he gets them down around her ankles.
“Will you try me?” he asks, and she obliges.
: :
They’re lounging in the bed watching the sun rise, their clothes strewn about the room, and Greta’s curled into Alex’s side. “So we’re officially married now,” Alex starts, and Greta flips over, burying her face in the pillow. “Hey, don’t hide from our marital bliss now!” he says, tickling her sides. She kicks her legs out, wriggling from under his grasp. He quickly catches her again.
“I love you, you big dummy,” she says, grinning.
“Greta Greenwald always did have a ring to it,” he says, nuzzling her nose with his own.
“Who says I’m changing my name?”
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Alex Greenwald/Greta Salpeter
POV: 3rd
Summary: “Greta Greenwald always did have a ring to it,” For the schmoop_bingo wedding consummation prompt. ~700 words. (Also I get to use my Greenwald icon \o/)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything and this is untrue. Title is from Why?'s "These Few Presidents".
Greta grins up at Alex when he moves the veil from her face. "You look different," he jokes and she moves as if she's going to pinch him, but realizes where they are right now. Instead, she wrinkles her nose and joins in him front of the officiant. After their vows, and before they kiss, she whispers in his ear. It's a lovely picture for the crowd of people, one that looks fantastic on their mantle later, but the words she whispers would make any of their guests blush. The kiss they share certainly does.
: :
When they finally escape from the party, not without a wink from their friends first, Alex wraps an arm around her waist. "I'm not buff enough to carry you all the way up through the hotel," he tells her, "but maybe from the elevators. We'll see." Greta starts to protest, spouting off facts about the origin of the tradition, but he silences her with a kiss.
Someone whistles, and they break apart, his grin filling his entire face. They race to the elevator, however, waiting dressed in wedding attire being somewhat awkward. They whisper dirty things to each other on the ride up, the businessman in the elevator with them staring at them from the corner of his eye. When they finally reach their floor (“Honeymoon suite,” Alex says, giggling and Greta joins in), Alex tightens his grip on her waist, and then she feels his arms sweep her up. He reassures her that he’s not going to drop her, but she still holds onto his shoulder.
He fumbles with the door key before finally setting her down. “Hold on, this key doesn’t like me,” he tells her, and Greta laughs. Her wedding gown pools around her, her blonde tresses tangled in the tiny pearl buttons up the back.
"You're swiping it backwards," she says, and he scowls.
“I knew that!” Alex says, flipping the card and finally the small light turns green. He picks her up again and says, “It only really counts if I carry you over the threshold.” He drops her on a side chair, then leans in to kiss her.
“You know what you did earlier?” she asks when they separate, and he kisses her again. “Like, with my garter and your teeth?” once they come up for air again.
“Maybe?” he asks, going in for another, but she presses a hand against his chest.
“Do you want to do it again, but with something else? Except for the whole throwing it at people thing. I’d be good without it,” she says, grinning and Alex kisses her again, deep enough that she can’t smile into it any longer. He makes his way down, kissing through the silk of her dress, just enough pressure and heat that she can feel him through the material. When he pushes Greta’s dress up over her knees, she laughs at the look of him, surrounded by white and cream lace and silk.
“What are you laughing at?” he asks before grabbing the tiny blue panties her mother had gotten her specially as part of the old wedding tradition with his teeth. (The dress was her grandmother’s, the shoes borrowed from her cousin and the pearl necklace an early wedding present from Alex’s sister.) “This is really hard,” he says, teeth gritted as he attempts to pull them down, “Will you help?” She wriggles and finally he gets them down around her ankles.
“Will you try me?” he asks, and she obliges.
: :
They’re lounging in the bed watching the sun rise, their clothes strewn about the room, and Greta’s curled into Alex’s side. “So we’re officially married now,” Alex starts, and Greta flips over, burying her face in the pillow. “Hey, don’t hide from our marital bliss now!” he says, tickling her sides. She kicks her legs out, wriggling from under his grasp. He quickly catches her again.
“I love you, you big dummy,” she says, grinning.
“Greta Greenwald always did have a ring to it,” he says, nuzzling her nose with his own.
“Who says I’m changing my name?”