Love, Probably.

Regulus paced back and forth at the front of the church trying not to look utterly wracked with nerves as Evan leant against the stone pillar next to him, flicking through photos on his camera. He’d been waiting for this day for years. Since he’d met Barty, honestly, and now here they were, in a huge fancy church that really didn’t want to marry two men, and that was without Reg outing himself as trans, but ultimately, they couldn’t turn down the amount of money Reg had thrown at them.

While on best man duties, Evan offered to take some candid footage throughout the day, which Regulus had been more than happy about. Evan’s candid work at weddings and honestly, every party they’d been to for the last decade, was always phenomenal and from what he’d seen, captured the vibe even better than the professional videographers. It was like Evan always knew what to look for

“There’s still time to run, you know,” Evan whispered. "We can start a new life together in Peru or Austria or somewhere..."

“Fuck off.” Regulus laughed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Evan shrugged in a way that implied he was joking, or at least mostly joking. “You sure? Pretty sure I’ve still got the number of that guy we met at your stag do.”

“You’re the worst best man, you know that?” Reg shook his head. “I’m marrying Barty, and you’re going to be happy for me. Plus that guy was an absolute mess, cried on my shoulder for over twenty minutes, and was wearing a wedding ring.”

“Of course, I'm going to be happy for you. I am happy for you. I was just making sure.” Evan held his hands up in mock surrender and grinned, "Ah yeah, I'd forgotten about the wedding ring."

He wished that Evan could be persuaded to spend time with Barty without making snide comments or flat-out ignoring him, but if he needed to keep the two of them separate to keep both of them in his life, that’s what he’d do. Evan had been his best friend for as long as he could remember before they’d even started primary school, and had supported him through his transition as a teenager. They had dated for a while in high school, but it fizzled out, as high school relationships tend to do, but they remained the closest of friends. But Barty, who had stumbled (literally) into his life while they were at uni, was undoubtedly the love of his life. Regulus, honestly, would probably have broken up with anyone else for whom his best friend had shown such utter contempt, but Barty was different.

Barty genuinely had no idea what he’d done to Evan for him to be disliked so intensely, and when Evan had been asked, he’d assured both Barty and Regulus that there was no problem, and gradually the contempt morphed into a kind of apathy that was liveable for everyone involved.

So Regulus looked into the lens that Evan pointed at him and grinned as the music started and Barty, flanked by Marlene, appeared at the back of the church. He turned to look at his imminent husband and, wow, he really hadn’t expected to cry. He’d laughed when Evan had suggested shoving a tissue up his sleeve like he was in primary school as they got ready, but as a tissue appeared in his peripheral vision, he was very grateful. Barty looked ethereal in a light grey suit, his hair, for once, not a tangled mess, beaming at him as he and Marlene got closer. As they reached the front of the church, Marlene kissed Barty on the cheek, then took her spot behind him as his ‘best girl’.

Regulus took Barty’s hands in his. “Hi.” He whispered.

“Hi yourself.” Barty rolled his eyes fondly. “You look incredible.”

The officiant cleared her throat and the ceremony began. Neither of them made it through without shedding a tear, and Evan handed them another two emergency tissues, plus an extra three for Marlene.

After they had been pronounced husbands and shared a thoroughly too-sweet kiss, because they both knew Barty could not be trusted to keep himself reined in, in front of a crowd if they didn’t specifically choreograph a chaste peck, the church organ started to play something that sounded like La Marseillaise and then a choir emerged on the balcony singing the start of All You Need Is Love, by The Beatles.

Barty looked over at Reg, who notably, was not a Beatles fan and grinned at him. “You did this?”

Reg just grinned back at him and said “Of course, I didn’t do this, I have taste, darling.”, but the next time Barty looked away, staring at the choir in almost childlike wonder, Regulus shared a look with Evan, who just shrugged at him, doing his best to look equally baffled, but a small smile teased the corners of his mouth.

🌙✨🎄✨🌙

In between the Ceremony and the Reception, Marlene popped home to see how Amelia was doing. She’d been really looking forward to going to a wedding with her girlfriend, but that morning, Amelia had developed a migraine and gone back to bed, utterly devastated that she couldn’t make it.

After nipping to Boots and getting some Migraleve and a few other bits and bobs, Marlene picked up some soup from Tesco and headed back to their flat. Well, Amelia’s flat, which she had finally convinced Marlene to move into during the summer.

She snuck into the flat, not wanting to wake Amelia if she was sleeping and was in the process of boiling the kettle and about to microwave the soup when her sister Emmeline appeared in the kitchen doorway wearing what looked like pyjamas and looking utterly spooked when she saw Marlene there with the kettle in her hand.

“Marls!” She said, loudly.”What are you doing here?”

“Shhh, Amy has a migraine.” Marlene hissed, “She’s probably sleeping. Plus, I live here! What are you doing here?”

“Oh, yeah I just popped in to see how she’s doing, keep an eye on her, and we were watching a movie. Well, I was watching a movie, she’s asleep. I thought you’d be gone all day.” Emmeline looked a little nervous.

“She let you in, did she?” Marlene asked, adding sugar to the mugs in front of her.

“Oh, yeah, then she flopped back in bed. She looks rough. I’ll take her tea in if you like?”

“No, it’s ok. I want to see how she’s doing. I got her some tablets.” Marlene smiled at her sister. “How did you know she was sick?”

“Oh, I texted her earlier asking how the wedding was going and she told me she hadn’t been able to go, so I thought I’d check in on her. Prime Minister asked for the morning off on the first day on the job. Can you believe it?”

“To go to a funeral-" Marlene started to say.

“Em, are you ok? You get lost?” Amelia’s voice rang out from the bedroom, “You ready for round two, gorgeous? You’re not going to break your record by the time Marlene gets back at this rate.”

Marlene, who had just turned with two mugs in her hands for her sister and her girlfriend, froze, and the mugs tumbled to the floor in what felt like slow motion. She didn’t even feel the scalding water splash the bottom of her dress, soaking through to her bare feet beneath. She didn’t even care that the mug that lay broken on the floor was one that Emmeline had made for her when they were kids.

She stared at her older sister, who opened her mouth and then closed it again several times, before grabbing her bag and shoes and leaving the flat.