(no subject)
We had lovely Indian dinner at a restaurant called Kamasutra on Monday. Then we came home and discovered that my brother was in bed, down with all the symptoms of swine flu. Tests showed he doesn't have it, luckily, but yeah, it's been a busy few days. I got a cute haircut though.
In celebration of the wedding that has the fandom squeeing, have a ficlet.
Title: White Wedding
Pairing: none, gen
Rating: G
Summary: It's a nice day for a white wedding. Oh the things Tom will do for his family.
The tent was aglow with the light of candles and dozens upon dozens of luminous white flowers. The scent of roses mingled sweetly with the fresh, salty breeze which drifted up from the sea. Tom took his seat in the first row of white, silk-wrapped chairs and nodded once. Bill had been right; this was perfect. Their mom and Gordon deserved the most special of days. Tom was glad they could give it to them.
“Everything’s lovely,” Bill agreed with Tom’s unspoken approval. He inhaled noisily. “I’m going to cry. Just so you know.”
Tom had actually already factored that in when he’d picked out his pants, which were noticeably smaller than usual in honor of the occasion, but still had enough room for several packs of tissues. He shrugged. “Go ahead, ruin your make-up.”
Bill elbowed him. “I’m wearing waterproof, silly, I’m no amateur.”
Tom huffed. He knew that. He’d had a reminder of it that morning, when he’d tried and failed to find at least one of the ten or so headbands he’d brought with him and which had mysteriously disappeared. “I can’t believe you made me go out in public like this.”
“We’re not out in public, we’re among family,” Bill told him. “And you look great, like I knew you would, so just relax.”
“I feel naked,” Tom grumbled.
“I’ll never understand your forehead complex,” Bill said. “Your forehead is fine! Your forehead is my forehead, and believe me, if something was wrong with it, I’d find a way to fix it, but there isn’t.” He patted Tom’s tight braids. “Let that scalp breathe!”
“I said okay to the suit,” Tom complained half-heartedly, “why’d you have to take away my head cover?”
“You’ll have to stop wrapping yourself in security blankets eventually,” Bill snorted. “And today’s a good day to start. Mom loved it!”
True; there’d been tears in Simone’s eyes when she’d hugged Tom close, very carefully so as not to mess up her white dress and his pristine suit. “My boys,” she’d whispered, “my darling boys, oh, you look so handsome.”
“Thanks!” Bill had beamed. “Took me ages to get him into that suit!”
“I appreciate it.” Simone had kissed their cheeks, looking so completely, wonderfully happy that Tom didn’t even mind the suit anymore, or the fact that he and his brother were dressed to match like three-year-olds.
“It’ll look great in the pictures,” said Bill, who was tuning in to Tom’s thoughts all too easily. “All of us dressed alike.”
“Gordon gets to wear a hat,” Tom argued. “Why does Gordon get to wear a hat and I don’t?”
“Because Gordon is the groom,” Bill said. “At your own wedding, you can wear a hat.” He squinted at Tom thoughtfully. “Maybe you should try a top hat.”
“I don’t care what you say,” Tom told him firmly, “I’m never ever wearing a top hat.”
“We’ll see.” Bill grinned. “Admit it, I was right about the suits. We look awesome.”
They did look awesome - Tom appreciated a nice, spotless fabric, and he secretly loved color-coordinating his outfit with Bill’s - but he couldn’t very well admit that. “I look awesome in anything.”
“Me too.” Bill nodded happily. “We’re the best-looking sons of the bride ever. Oh, here they come.”
‘Sons of the bride’ - it sounded strange, kind of backwards, but then, Tom figured, most things in their life must look odd from the outside. It was what they were used to, how it had always been, the way their mother had encouraged them to be from the moment they realized that people stopped and stared at them in the street, and today, as he watched his mom walk down the aisle, radiant with joy, Tom was proud. It hadn’t always been easy, being different, but it was good. It was them.
Beside him, Bill made a choking noise then and fluttered his hands. “Aw, mom’s so beautiful. Look at her smile!”
Tom handed over a discreet tissue before the waterworks could start in earnest. “How about you stop blubbering and smile too?”
“I am smiling!” Bill sniffled, and he was: grinning through his tears like the sunshine warring with the rain, creating a rainbow of laughter and emotion as Gordon and Simone exchanged their vows, and for a few minutes, as they finally officially became the family they had been for more than ten years, it felt like they were wrapped in a bubble of joy and contentment which sat peacefully at the center of the universe, the world revolving smoothly around it.
The couple leaned in to kiss. The crowd clapped and cheered. With dismay, Tom noticed that his eyes were wet. He pushed his shoulder against Bill’s to share the sudden weight of his emotion and felt his twin’s strength as Bill returned the pressure, still laughing and sobbing openly as for them both. In all its noise and cheer, this moment was different than the usual chaos of their life at the eye of the storm; warmer, calmer, familiar. They were used to triumphs and victory, fortune smiling upon them, but the rewards of fame came at a price, a high price of freedom. Today, here, there was no sacrifice. This was a gift to them all.
“So beautiful,” Bill hiccoughed as they watched the newlyweds recede up the aisle towards the beach for a moment of privacy. “They should’ve done this sooner. I love weddings!”
“You would,” Tom smiled.
“Yes, I would.” Bill fished another tissue out of Tom’s pocket and blew his nose noisily. “Ah, and now it’s party time! Cake! Champagne! Drunk second cousins! What’s not to love?”
“I could use a drink,” Tom allowed. He dabbed at his eyes covertly with the sleeve of his jacket. Damn sand got everywhere.
“Yeah, you look like you could.” Bill studied his twin’s face slyly. “It was very touching, wasn’t it.”
“It was okay,” Tom dismissed him. He fidgeted under Bill’s knowing look. “Check in the mirror, I think you messed up your eyeliner or something.”
“My eyeliner is fine,” Bill reached out and straightened the knot in Tom’s tie. “Are you sure you are?”
“Yes,” Tom grumbled.
“We could take a moment. Go walk the dogs at the beach,” Bill suggested.
“In white suits?” On second thought, catching some air seemed like a good idea. Tom’s face burned, and besides, he wouldn’t mind some saltwater stains as an excuse to get out of his outfit. “Yeah, okay.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, I ordered you a second suit for the party,” Bill grinned.
Tom made a face. “Another white one?”
“Oh, no.” Bill wiggled his eyebrows evilly. “You’re gonna love it. I know how much you like color-coordinating. It matches your car.”
“The Audi?” Tom could deal with a silver-grey suit. Probably.
“Nah,” Bill chuckled. “The Ferrari.”
Tom stared at him, appalled. “I am not wearing a red suit.”
“Yes, you are. And so am I.” He beamed. “Red is the color of love, after all. Mom will adore it.”
Tom sighed. The things he did for his family. “Can I get my headbands back?”
“No.”
In celebration of the wedding that has the fandom squeeing, have a ficlet.
Title: White Wedding
Pairing: none, gen
Rating: G
Summary: It's a nice day for a white wedding. Oh the things Tom will do for his family.
The tent was aglow with the light of candles and dozens upon dozens of luminous white flowers. The scent of roses mingled sweetly with the fresh, salty breeze which drifted up from the sea. Tom took his seat in the first row of white, silk-wrapped chairs and nodded once. Bill had been right; this was perfect. Their mom and Gordon deserved the most special of days. Tom was glad they could give it to them.
“Everything’s lovely,” Bill agreed with Tom’s unspoken approval. He inhaled noisily. “I’m going to cry. Just so you know.”
Tom had actually already factored that in when he’d picked out his pants, which were noticeably smaller than usual in honor of the occasion, but still had enough room for several packs of tissues. He shrugged. “Go ahead, ruin your make-up.”
Bill elbowed him. “I’m wearing waterproof, silly, I’m no amateur.”
Tom huffed. He knew that. He’d had a reminder of it that morning, when he’d tried and failed to find at least one of the ten or so headbands he’d brought with him and which had mysteriously disappeared. “I can’t believe you made me go out in public like this.”
“We’re not out in public, we’re among family,” Bill told him. “And you look great, like I knew you would, so just relax.”
“I feel naked,” Tom grumbled.
“I’ll never understand your forehead complex,” Bill said. “Your forehead is fine! Your forehead is my forehead, and believe me, if something was wrong with it, I’d find a way to fix it, but there isn’t.” He patted Tom’s tight braids. “Let that scalp breathe!”
“I said okay to the suit,” Tom complained half-heartedly, “why’d you have to take away my head cover?”
“You’ll have to stop wrapping yourself in security blankets eventually,” Bill snorted. “And today’s a good day to start. Mom loved it!”
True; there’d been tears in Simone’s eyes when she’d hugged Tom close, very carefully so as not to mess up her white dress and his pristine suit. “My boys,” she’d whispered, “my darling boys, oh, you look so handsome.”
“Thanks!” Bill had beamed. “Took me ages to get him into that suit!”
“I appreciate it.” Simone had kissed their cheeks, looking so completely, wonderfully happy that Tom didn’t even mind the suit anymore, or the fact that he and his brother were dressed to match like three-year-olds.
“It’ll look great in the pictures,” said Bill, who was tuning in to Tom’s thoughts all too easily. “All of us dressed alike.”
“Gordon gets to wear a hat,” Tom argued. “Why does Gordon get to wear a hat and I don’t?”
“Because Gordon is the groom,” Bill said. “At your own wedding, you can wear a hat.” He squinted at Tom thoughtfully. “Maybe you should try a top hat.”
“I don’t care what you say,” Tom told him firmly, “I’m never ever wearing a top hat.”
“We’ll see.” Bill grinned. “Admit it, I was right about the suits. We look awesome.”
They did look awesome - Tom appreciated a nice, spotless fabric, and he secretly loved color-coordinating his outfit with Bill’s - but he couldn’t very well admit that. “I look awesome in anything.”
“Me too.” Bill nodded happily. “We’re the best-looking sons of the bride ever. Oh, here they come.”
‘Sons of the bride’ - it sounded strange, kind of backwards, but then, Tom figured, most things in their life must look odd from the outside. It was what they were used to, how it had always been, the way their mother had encouraged them to be from the moment they realized that people stopped and stared at them in the street, and today, as he watched his mom walk down the aisle, radiant with joy, Tom was proud. It hadn’t always been easy, being different, but it was good. It was them.
Beside him, Bill made a choking noise then and fluttered his hands. “Aw, mom’s so beautiful. Look at her smile!”
Tom handed over a discreet tissue before the waterworks could start in earnest. “How about you stop blubbering and smile too?”
“I am smiling!” Bill sniffled, and he was: grinning through his tears like the sunshine warring with the rain, creating a rainbow of laughter and emotion as Gordon and Simone exchanged their vows, and for a few minutes, as they finally officially became the family they had been for more than ten years, it felt like they were wrapped in a bubble of joy and contentment which sat peacefully at the center of the universe, the world revolving smoothly around it.
The couple leaned in to kiss. The crowd clapped and cheered. With dismay, Tom noticed that his eyes were wet. He pushed his shoulder against Bill’s to share the sudden weight of his emotion and felt his twin’s strength as Bill returned the pressure, still laughing and sobbing openly as for them both. In all its noise and cheer, this moment was different than the usual chaos of their life at the eye of the storm; warmer, calmer, familiar. They were used to triumphs and victory, fortune smiling upon them, but the rewards of fame came at a price, a high price of freedom. Today, here, there was no sacrifice. This was a gift to them all.
“So beautiful,” Bill hiccoughed as they watched the newlyweds recede up the aisle towards the beach for a moment of privacy. “They should’ve done this sooner. I love weddings!”
“You would,” Tom smiled.
“Yes, I would.” Bill fished another tissue out of Tom’s pocket and blew his nose noisily. “Ah, and now it’s party time! Cake! Champagne! Drunk second cousins! What’s not to love?”
“I could use a drink,” Tom allowed. He dabbed at his eyes covertly with the sleeve of his jacket. Damn sand got everywhere.
“Yeah, you look like you could.” Bill studied his twin’s face slyly. “It was very touching, wasn’t it.”
“It was okay,” Tom dismissed him. He fidgeted under Bill’s knowing look. “Check in the mirror, I think you messed up your eyeliner or something.”
“My eyeliner is fine,” Bill reached out and straightened the knot in Tom’s tie. “Are you sure you are?”
“Yes,” Tom grumbled.
“We could take a moment. Go walk the dogs at the beach,” Bill suggested.
“In white suits?” On second thought, catching some air seemed like a good idea. Tom’s face burned, and besides, he wouldn’t mind some saltwater stains as an excuse to get out of his outfit. “Yeah, okay.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, I ordered you a second suit for the party,” Bill grinned.
Tom made a face. “Another white one?”
“Oh, no.” Bill wiggled his eyebrows evilly. “You’re gonna love it. I know how much you like color-coordinating. It matches your car.”
“The Audi?” Tom could deal with a silver-grey suit. Probably.
“Nah,” Bill chuckled. “The Ferrari.”
Tom stared at him, appalled. “I am not wearing a red suit.”
“Yes, you are. And so am I.” He beamed. “Red is the color of love, after all. Mom will adore it.”
Tom sighed. The things he did for his family. “Can I get my headbands back?”
“No.”