Fic: Chantilly Lace - Any Way You Want Me inset, De/Carolyn (Billy/Len)
This was supposed to be longer than this, but I ran out of words. I thought it would be preferable to post it than to just leave it hanging out in my gdocs forever, just in case anyone was still interested.
Title: Chantilly Lace
Rating: PG-13 at most
Disclaimer: lies lies lies lies
Summary: De and Lyn get married. Billy is, of course, at De's side, and Len, as ever, is at Billy's.
Word Count: 1188
1957
So, I guess I shoulda been more upset about my irregular heartbeat than I am. There's not too much a guy can say, really, when the doc leans away from you with his stethoscope-whatchamgig in one hand and a yellow form in the other, look on his face saying clear as a goddamn Georgia spring that you ain't going nowhere, sonny Jim. They're not too keen on guys like me in the Army, doc says. Something about a high likelihood of me popping my clogs in the middle of an attack, or whatever, and yeah, I can see how that'd be inconvenient.
Billy and Len were the picture of sympathy when I came out and told 'em, and yeah, I made all the right noises, you know - I didn't want to be left out, goddammit; damned if I knew how this had happened, after all those years I'd spent on the football field, and all that jazz. And they said that yeah, it sucked; and goddamn, they would miss me; but then Billy looked at me kinda sidelong and said hey, at least it meant I could marry Lyn now without having to wait two years, and the look in his eyes summed up the whole case right there. Hell, I coulda wasted weeks moping theatrically over having to stick around in sunny California, feelin' like a square on my bank-clerk's chair while my high-school buddies lived it up (ha!) at Fort Knox, but since Billy saw through me the minute I opened my mouth, I couldn't really see the point. Sure, my old man woulda been proud of me after two years' knuckle-dragging for the Army, and sure, maybe Lyn woulda liked to show off a man in uniform, but when you boil it down I know she always wanted to marry me straight out of high school, any way the thing could be done. And, as Billy knew, and as I knew right deep down, the same went for me.
So, as I bet you already guessed, that's what we're gonna do. Today, to be precise, although there's sure as hell been some womanly lead-up to this, lots of chattering behind my back and giggling about catering. And, hell, the trouble they went to, keeping me away from the wedding dress, you'da thought I was ninja-diving Lyn's wardrobe tryin' to get a peek at the thing, which I can tell you right now is a load of b.s. I want her to have whatever she wants, so I'm letting it all just pass me by, but she's my Lyn, you know? She'd be a hot fuzz beauty queen to me if she came down the aisle in a set of overalls, and she damn well knows it. But, you know me - I don't want to cause any trouble - and, you know, with two mothers and my girl in on it, I'd just have gotten my big stupid male nose shoved out of it anyway, so I let them all do what the hell they wanted to do. And, yeah, I bought the rings 'cause that was my job, and I had a lot of kind of quiet bonding with Dad, raising our eyebrows at each other in the kitchen while they all fluttered around us like a load of butterflies hepped up on helium, but mostly all I want is to be married to Lyn, and the wedding part is kinda immaterial, you know what I mean? All I want, when it comes down to it, is for Lyn to be my wife.
Still, when she consulted me about the invitations (specially made, with little bells on 'em), there was never any question about the fact that I damn well wanted my friends here to see me marry her. And, you know, since Lyn's pretty damn fond of my boys as well, I didn't really have to say anything, except how pleased I was that we're not actually at war right now, so they'd only have to beetle back from ol' Kentucky, and the Army'd prob'ly give 'em that no question, right?
Lyn thought yes, and man, am I glad she was right. Thing about Lyn is, she's right about a whole lot of stuff.
I've spent most of my life with Billy at my side. I look at him now, in his dress uniform brass, and it feels like he fits there, you know? Good ol' Billy still watching my back like he has since we were six. But somehow, there's something about seeing him like that - the way he stands to attention, like someone shoved a broomrod up the back of his tunic, and the broadness to his shoulders underneath - that just hits me right in the gut, this barrelload of understanding I never quite tripped up on till now. His hair's a little longer than it was the last time I saw him, back when they were in Basic and they looked like Dachau refugees, and hell, I think, I'm looking at a goddamn man. There he is, and we're all grown up, and good God, I'm getting married.
I guess it never really registered till this second.
It's not that it's a bad feeling - far from it, really; I want to be a grown man with a house and a car, and I want to be called Mr Kelley on gas bills and shit - hell, I even kinda want some gas bills, just to prove this is real life. But the shock of it all falling into place like that's still jangling in my head when the music starts up, till I catch Billy's eyes, and he catches mine and he grins. And the next thing I know is my future coming towards me, my own damn angel in Chantilly lace, and she's wearing white chucks 'cause she's terrified of tripping with all these people watching, and that's the thing that makes me bleed with love. She looks at me, grinning fit to split her face, and when her old man steps back, I feel like I might explode.
I hold myself in, of course, for the sake of the congregation. And the sacristan, and whoever else woulda had to clean up the mess. But she's so damn right, and I'm tellin' ya, it's a goddamn close thing.
He does his thing right, Billy does, and you can tell he's gotten used to following orders, 'cause there's no hesitation in the way he pulls out the little box; no fumbling or pretending he lost it somewhere, which I kind of almost expected. He hands it over, and I do the honors, and her hand's actually steady when I push the ring all shaky onto her finger. I mention this, as we turn to leave the church - whisper it in her ear, still pink from the flush she got when I kissed her - and she laughs at me all open-faced and says, "Well, De, why should I be nervous?"
And again, she's right. What in the hell has she got to be nervous about?
*
You may have noticed that I'm doing a 'get 'em all out there' fic-collecting exercise tonight. :)
Title: Chantilly Lace
Rating: PG-13 at most
Disclaimer: lies lies lies lies
Summary: De and Lyn get married. Billy is, of course, at De's side, and Len, as ever, is at Billy's.
Word Count: 1188
1957
So, I guess I shoulda been more upset about my irregular heartbeat than I am. There's not too much a guy can say, really, when the doc leans away from you with his stethoscope-whatchamgig in one hand and a yellow form in the other, look on his face saying clear as a goddamn Georgia spring that you ain't going nowhere, sonny Jim. They're not too keen on guys like me in the Army, doc says. Something about a high likelihood of me popping my clogs in the middle of an attack, or whatever, and yeah, I can see how that'd be inconvenient.
Billy and Len were the picture of sympathy when I came out and told 'em, and yeah, I made all the right noises, you know - I didn't want to be left out, goddammit; damned if I knew how this had happened, after all those years I'd spent on the football field, and all that jazz. And they said that yeah, it sucked; and goddamn, they would miss me; but then Billy looked at me kinda sidelong and said hey, at least it meant I could marry Lyn now without having to wait two years, and the look in his eyes summed up the whole case right there. Hell, I coulda wasted weeks moping theatrically over having to stick around in sunny California, feelin' like a square on my bank-clerk's chair while my high-school buddies lived it up (ha!) at Fort Knox, but since Billy saw through me the minute I opened my mouth, I couldn't really see the point. Sure, my old man woulda been proud of me after two years' knuckle-dragging for the Army, and sure, maybe Lyn woulda liked to show off a man in uniform, but when you boil it down I know she always wanted to marry me straight out of high school, any way the thing could be done. And, as Billy knew, and as I knew right deep down, the same went for me.
So, as I bet you already guessed, that's what we're gonna do. Today, to be precise, although there's sure as hell been some womanly lead-up to this, lots of chattering behind my back and giggling about catering. And, hell, the trouble they went to, keeping me away from the wedding dress, you'da thought I was ninja-diving Lyn's wardrobe tryin' to get a peek at the thing, which I can tell you right now is a load of b.s. I want her to have whatever she wants, so I'm letting it all just pass me by, but she's my Lyn, you know? She'd be a hot fuzz beauty queen to me if she came down the aisle in a set of overalls, and she damn well knows it. But, you know me - I don't want to cause any trouble - and, you know, with two mothers and my girl in on it, I'd just have gotten my big stupid male nose shoved out of it anyway, so I let them all do what the hell they wanted to do. And, yeah, I bought the rings 'cause that was my job, and I had a lot of kind of quiet bonding with Dad, raising our eyebrows at each other in the kitchen while they all fluttered around us like a load of butterflies hepped up on helium, but mostly all I want is to be married to Lyn, and the wedding part is kinda immaterial, you know what I mean? All I want, when it comes down to it, is for Lyn to be my wife.
Still, when she consulted me about the invitations (specially made, with little bells on 'em), there was never any question about the fact that I damn well wanted my friends here to see me marry her. And, you know, since Lyn's pretty damn fond of my boys as well, I didn't really have to say anything, except how pleased I was that we're not actually at war right now, so they'd only have to beetle back from ol' Kentucky, and the Army'd prob'ly give 'em that no question, right?
Lyn thought yes, and man, am I glad she was right. Thing about Lyn is, she's right about a whole lot of stuff.
I've spent most of my life with Billy at my side. I look at him now, in his dress uniform brass, and it feels like he fits there, you know? Good ol' Billy still watching my back like he has since we were six. But somehow, there's something about seeing him like that - the way he stands to attention, like someone shoved a broomrod up the back of his tunic, and the broadness to his shoulders underneath - that just hits me right in the gut, this barrelload of understanding I never quite tripped up on till now. His hair's a little longer than it was the last time I saw him, back when they were in Basic and they looked like Dachau refugees, and hell, I think, I'm looking at a goddamn man. There he is, and we're all grown up, and good God, I'm getting married.
I guess it never really registered till this second.
It's not that it's a bad feeling - far from it, really; I want to be a grown man with a house and a car, and I want to be called Mr Kelley on gas bills and shit - hell, I even kinda want some gas bills, just to prove this is real life. But the shock of it all falling into place like that's still jangling in my head when the music starts up, till I catch Billy's eyes, and he catches mine and he grins. And the next thing I know is my future coming towards me, my own damn angel in Chantilly lace, and she's wearing white chucks 'cause she's terrified of tripping with all these people watching, and that's the thing that makes me bleed with love. She looks at me, grinning fit to split her face, and when her old man steps back, I feel like I might explode.
I hold myself in, of course, for the sake of the congregation. And the sacristan, and whoever else woulda had to clean up the mess. But she's so damn right, and I'm tellin' ya, it's a goddamn close thing.
He does his thing right, Billy does, and you can tell he's gotten used to following orders, 'cause there's no hesitation in the way he pulls out the little box; no fumbling or pretending he lost it somewhere, which I kind of almost expected. He hands it over, and I do the honors, and her hand's actually steady when I push the ring all shaky onto her finger. I mention this, as we turn to leave the church - whisper it in her ear, still pink from the flush she got when I kissed her - and she laughs at me all open-faced and says, "Well, De, why should I be nervous?"
And again, she's right. What in the hell has she got to be nervous about?
*
You may have noticed that I'm doing a 'get 'em all out there' fic-collecting exercise tonight. :)