(no subject)
Wedding Day T minus - 9 days
The treadmill hums loudly, accompanied by the sound of heavy breathing and the thud of feet running at a steady pace. Ric’s got his eyes closed, head tilted back and iPod tucked into the pocket of his sweats, the wire of the ear pieces dangling from his ears as he jogs; the sweat sheens across his bare chest and stomach, white towel bouncing across his shoulders. There was a reason he’d converted the space above the garage into his own gym, the view across the garden to the beach were one thing but it also meant that Ric could come shut himself away up here when he needed a break from working or the family... or more lately wedding planning. Lost in the music Ric is unaware he has company until he gets a face full of cold water.
Yelping, though he’d deny the fact if it was ever pointed out, Ric splutters. Nearly losing his footing he only just saves himself from landing face first into the treadmill console by bracing his arms on the side bars and lifting his feet off of the running belt and glaring at his mother. Mama Vivi reaches forward and switches the treadmill off; smiling sweetly as she watches Ric lower himself back onto the now stationary belt and tug the ear pieces out.
“You know polite people knock Mama.”
“I have been. For the last ten minutes.”
“Oh.” Wiping the towel over his face Ric steps off of the treadmill and stretches, cooling his muscles off from his workout.
“You’re late.” Mama Vivi stands there, arms resting on her hips and giving her son that look. The one that always makes him cringe.
“What are you going on about?”
“The meeting with the wedding planner?”
“Yeah it’s at.” Ditching his towel on the treadmill Ric crosses over to sofa where he tossed his t-shirt and watch earlier on. His hands start to run through his hair; it’s a nervous habit of Ric’s that he has never been able to kick in all his years and not for want of trying. “OH HOLY FUCK!”
“I thought you might say that.”
“Why didn’t you come get me sooner!?” Stripping out of his sweats, thankfully wearing boxers underneath Ric grabs his jeans and heads into the ensuite shower room. The water runs for a few moments and then Ric reappears, jeans now on and looking suitably damp. He takes the polo shirt that Mama is holding out for him and tugs it on messing his hair up even more.
“Like I said tesoro, I spent ten minutes trying to get your attention.”
“Fuck Mark is going to kill me for being late. Reckon I can make a twenty minute drive fit into five minutes?” Ric grabbed his jacket and sunglasses, slipping on his flip flops as he headed out the door. It might seem silly to others but Ric has pretty much taken control of planning the wedding, not that he hadn’t wanted Mark to have a say in the choices they made but he hated the meetings, sitting around and going through all the finer details when he could barely keep focused. Not to mention with Leticia, Ophelia, Marlina, Seidy and Mama giving their inputs it had gotten all a bit too much. In the end Ric had sacked them all and taken control of all the major decisions and then given the girls smaller tasks to complete instead, with strict, clear instructions on exactly what he wants.
“No and don’t go driving like a lunatic just to get there on time,” She follows, leaning into the car as Ric doesn’t bother with opening the door and just jumps in. Thank god he went for the soft top version.
“Thanks Mama. Can you call ahead for me let her know we’re running late?” Rolling his eyes he starts the car, engine rumbling as he makes a couple of adjustments to the seat. It’s then that he looks at the clock on the dashboard and realises he still has about thirty minutes. Glancing between his watch and the in car clock it finally dawns on Julio that he’s been had. By his mother.
“No need, your appointment is for half past anyway angel so you’ve got plenty of time.” Mama Vivi smiles sweetly before wandering off back indoors, Lucia peering over the unopened bottom half of the dutch gate door and waving at her Papi with her pigtails bouncing and squeal of laughter as she’s picked up by Mark, raspberries blown against her stomach. Clearly they’d been plotting against him, his darling Mama and his beloved Mark; had been in on the plan, knowing that Ric was never one for keeping to appointments and bookings. Assholes. Ric mutters something under his breath about women and fiancées being the spawns of Satan, revving the engine and blaring his music a little louder than necessary.
He still blows his daughter a kiss though, it’s not her fault she’s a spoilt little princess already being taken in by her Abuela and Daddy at such a young age.
--
Four hours later Ric returns, not the triumphant knight on his shining steed but more of a shopping weary, tired and wedding overdosed individual. Stumbling into the house he sets down a large box followed by the wedding folder onto the coffee table and crosses over to the liquor cabinet, grabbing the nearest bottle of whiskey and pouring himself a sizeable tumbler. Without warning warm hands slide up under the material of his polo shirt, skimming across his abs as a firm body is pressed flushed with his back and lips tracing the shell of his ear.
“Hola guapo.”
“Hola Loco.”
“¿Cómo estás?”
“Estoy bien.”
There is a snort of amusement, Mark moving away and stealing Ric’s sunglasses from the top of his head, already opening the box of cake samples Ric has brought back with him. “You look it, get to your meeting on time?”
“Mmhhmm, all thanks to you and Mami of course.”
“Where would you be without me huh?” The words come out muffled around a mouthful of cupcake though, Mark barely bothering to chew, he’s licking the blue icing off of his fingers as Ric drops down onto the sofa next to him and shuts the lid on the box. At least he’s saved the other eleven cupcakes.
“No eating those till later when we can think about flavours and the cost, we’ve got to discuss-“
“One of everything.”
“Mark! We’ve got to disc-” He watched as Mark yanks the box back open and grabs out another cupcake, cramming it in. Julio knows he should do something to stop the impending sugar rush but he really cannot be bothered right now.
“One of everything.”
“But we’ve-” Again Ric is cut off, this time with an icing sticky finger being pressed to his lips.
“One of everything! Seriously. Trust me on this.” Mark grins brightly, “So how did it go?”
“Alright, though I still think we should have hired Stryker because this is less of a wedding and more of a military manoeuvre.”
Thinking back to earlier on Ric honestly thinks it went as well as a wedding planning meeting could go he supposes. Their planner is fantastic, no doubt about that but she’s got to be considering the amount Ric is paying her to do her job. The venue, date, colours, decorations, music, flowers, ushers, bridesmaids, catering, transport, photographer, entertainment, the wedding gift list and so many other things have been finalised (at last.) Julio is pretty sure there are still important things that he must remember to double check but they’ve been sorted so far so right now he doesn’t care.
All that is left apparently on the DO NOW OR ELSE list - as put by the Wedding Planner Sophie - are their outfits, writing their vows and choosing their rings. Not to mention booking their honeymoon but Ric is pretty confident he’s got the perfect idea for that all sorted.
“Sophie says she’s booked us in for out suit fitting tomorrow okay?”
“Yup!”
Ric starts to doze off, eyes closed, legs kicked up on the coffee table when he is rewarded with a sugary sweet kiss; cracking an eye open Ric watches as his fiancée vanishes off with a cupcake in each hand. Dear lord is he going to regret not chasing Mark down and taking the cupcakes back, no doubt at three am when he gets yet another phone call from the police station to advising him that his significant other is in custody. Thank god he bought Mark that identity bracelet with contact details a short while back, though maybe he should have just bought the dog collar and tag instead.
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Wedding Day T minus - 8 days
Two hours. Two fucking hours and they had only just about agreed on a suit for Mark, an Armani summer collection double buttoned black suit with white shirt, black silk tie and pockets as well as plenty of room beneath the sleeves for his watches should he want them. Sophie had already tried to convince Mark to take them off and she’d learnt her lesson quickly. Now it was just up to Ric and Mark to choose the final suit for Julio and that had only been achieved when he’d been placated with enough promises to visit any store of his choosing when they were done. Ric is about ready to hang himself with the curtain of the dressing room but he can’t because Mark would be able to foresee it and stop him, probably to complain that Ric was getting out of taking him to the toy store. Which isn’t the point! But still... the bastard. Fidgeting with his tie Ric stares at his reflection and grumbles once more. Out in the private waiting area, sighing loudly, Mark once again checked the watches on his wrists and drummed his fingers against the arm of the plush arm chair.
“How long are you gonna be? Or am I going to have to come in there and rush your Mexican ass out of there?”
“You keep asking me that Loco and I swear I’m gonna come out there and shove a coat hanger so far up your ass you’re gonna be able to hang yourself on the back of the bathroom door. Comprede?!”
Mark huffed and muttered under his breath, hoping that Julio didn’t hear the next part. “Such a drama queen.”
“I HEARD THAT!”
“You were meant to!” Flashing a smile at one of the shop assistants who was bringing them another tray of those truffles he’d munched through (three trays worth to be precise) and more orange juice; Mark rolled his neck, the cartilage and bones cracking loudly in response. Suddenly the curtain pulled back to reveal Julio stood in a black pin-stripe suit with a white shirt, no tie and a matching waistcoat, hands shoved into the pockets as he glared at his fiancée.
“Well?!”
There was silence and then a soft sigh as Mark stood up, adjusting the collar of Ric’s shirt, hands skimming across his chest as he leant down to kiss him softly. “Get back in there and I’ll demonstrate just how good it looks to you.”
They left a couple of hours later, both looking a little more dishevelled but with the perfect suits now on order to be collected in the next week. Luckily choosing the rings was a task that could be completed at home, organised thanks to Sophie (and a large cheque from Julio) because taking Mark into a store with pretty, shiny, expensive jewellery was not a good idea.
Ric had already learnt that lesson.
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Wedding Day T minus - 2 days
There is a sea of screwed up balls of paper littering the floor and table all around Ric in his home office, several empty mugs are inter-dispersed amongst the previous attempts at his vows. Phe hip checks Ric’s chair as she wanders in, Lucia in her arms and looking about ready for a bath and then bed. Leaning up Ric places a soft kiss against his daughters’ cheek, murmuring goodnight against her soft skin and pressing a loud, over the top kiss to Mr Snuffie (as expected and demanded for quite often) as well, the cuddly toy barely ever seen anywhere other than in Lucia’s arms.
“Buenas noches Chiquita and Mr Snuffie.”
As she steps away she throws out yet another suggestion, “Roses are Red, Violets are blue; I'm out of my head, because I love you.”
Ric responds by simply banging his head against the desk loudly. Why did he ever think that he could do this?
--
Wedding Day T minus - 12 hours.
He can’t sleep.
Pacing back and forth in their bedroom Ric knows he should think about trying to settle but his mind is racing, full of what ifs and maybes.
On Mami’s orders Mark and Julio have been kept separate for the entire day before, because although they aren’t having a traditional wedding in all the conventional ways, Mama Vivi is a stickler for rules and she’s pretty sure Ric isn’t quite over the idea of eloping yet.
They’ve been good as gold, technically managing to stick to the rules imposed by Mama and sure they might have only frozen time once to sneak a quick kiss just to prove that they still could and not get caught. Settling on the end of the bed Julio stares at the suit hanging up on the wardrobe door and smiles softly. Somehow Mark has managed to get in under his skin and refuse to move. Who knew an honest man could be made out of the Mexican huh? Gone are the days of being a flirt, a charmer. No backing out of this and Ric wouldn’t have it any other way. Apart from maybe running off to Vegas and eloping.
He just hopes to god that everything goes as it should tomorrow.
The Wedding
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