TW: Fluff

Title: ~Wedding~

Ross had always hated churches, if he had to be honest. The feel of the too-hard pews beneath him seemed to dig in despite being solid planks of wood, and there was always the smell of damp in the air which felt both cool and stuffy at the same time. This time is even more uncomfortable, though not just physically.

Alex Smith is getting married, his Alex Smith - though, obviously, not any more. Sickness worms its way into his stomach, curls icily around his heart as he watches his handsome friend standing opposite his bride and feels the pain of his heart breaking ten times over. Around him people shed tears of happiness, and it makes Ross seriously consider whether people would care if he cried too despite his own tears being the bitter salt of jealousy and emotional pain.

A small voice speaks up at the back of his mind, sounding bizarrely like Chris Trott, and tells him that it doesn’t have to be that way; if he’d just pay attention he’d realise the way that Alex isn’t looking at his bride at all, is instead glancing in his direction every so often. As though looking back on his life through the eyes of another, Ross sees every subtle longing glance, ever lingering touch, every drunken night they’d spent together and it spins a web of adrenaline and hope inside his mind.

"If anyone knows of any reason why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold thy peace,"

"Fuck! Me, yeah, that’s-," Ross realises he is standing, gaining silent and shocked stares from everybody else in the church. Though, in the case of the bride and groom he’s very much certain he can see rage and what looks like it may just be hope. "Sorry," Ross fumbles for words awkwardly, "shouldn’t swear, but uh-," His eyes meet Alex’s and his mind finds clarity when the unusually clean shaven man smiles at him, "I think I love you, Smith,"

"Fucking finally!" Chris’ deep tones make both Alex and Ross jump - the groom turning to his best man with a look of genuine surprise only to be met by an eye roll and a verbal response. "Oh, come on; we all know you two’ve been into each other from the start," This time it is Ross’ turn to be surprised as he hears noises of agreement from the family and friends in the pews around him, and even the bride seems to shrug resignedly - dropping Alex’s hands and letting him half jog down the aisle towards Ross’ row.

"God. You couldn’t have picked a better time, mate?" Alex smirks, heart as fit to burst as Ross’ as he holds out a hand for the dark haired man to take. Shared smiles broaden as their fingers link together, and as the two of them stand almost chest-to-chest Alex mutters one more thing to Ross. "I love you too, you stupid twat." Before a few scattered cheers echo around the expansive church and Alex dips his head forward - kissing Ross with the solid intention of never letting him go.