Bonus Chapter #2
When they reached the end of the aisle, they both shook hands with Father O’Reilly before quickly hugging Xavi and Lulu.
They’d chosen not to speak their vows in front of the guests, but in private, and to let Caitlin—or as it turned out, Father O’Reilly—wed them traditionally.
Noah was not great with words, but in the end, he’d managed to put down a few sentences that he felt summed up what Joe meant to him.
What Joe had done for him. Noah couldn’t wait to read them to Joe later when Joe’s cum was still inside him, and they lay panting and sweaty next to each other, their spent bodies wrapped tightly around each other.
Noah shook himself when Father O’Reilly addressed him first. The old priest’s voice spilled over with evident emotion when he explained how he’d had the pleasure of knowing Noah all his life, from his baptism to his communion and as a choirboy.
How he’d watched Noah turn into a fine young man with a strong sense of faith, family, and community.
How he knew Noah’s parents were very proud of him and of the path he’d chosen in life.
Then he turned to Joe, and a quick cono flew from Joe’s lips.
Everyone laughed, while Father O’Reilly assured Joe that he had only good things to say about him too, and that the baptismal font hadn’t suffered any long-term trauma from Joe’s ‘assault.’ That had the entire room laughing again, and Joe seemed to relax.
“When I asked Noah,” Father O’Reilly said, “why he knew you were the man he wanted to marry, he didn’t hesitate when he told me. ‘Because Joe is good. He is my savior, Father. My angel.’ And then he told me what happened to him and what you did for him, and, Joe, I have to admit I agree.”
“He said that? You said that, corazón?” Joe blurted, his bottom lip quivering as he stared at Noah.
“He did.”
“I did.” Noah and Father O’Reilly spoke at the same time.
“It’s true,” Noah smiled shyly. “You are, Joe.”
“You saved me, too, Noah. You really did.” Joe took a step closer toward him. “I didn’t think I needed it, but I really did. I need you. Always.”
“Yeah?” Noah rasped. “You need me too, baby?” Noah recognized the longing in his own voice, the naked neediness, and he bet everyone else heard it too.
But somehow, he didn’t care. He’d tried to bury those parts of him for such a long time, and his life had been sheer hell.
Living a lie was hell. The truth was that it was okay to allow yourself to need someone.
It was a good thing, actually, to admit that to yourself and allow someone else to carry the weight with you.
Noah knew that now. It was the truth he lived by every single day.
It didn’t make you weak; it made you human.
“No vows, my ass,” Lulu mumbled, before his eyes flew to Father O’Reilly. “Sorry, Father.”
By now, Allita, Joe’s mami, was crying too. Shaking her head, she hissed something in Spanish before she proceeded to blow her nose loudly.
“What did she say?” Noah asked, looking at Joe.
“She said you’re all ruining her make-up! And it’s true,” Lulu scowled, then wiped his eyes, too. “You’re gonna ruin mine, too, if you keep this up. I didn’t wake up this gorgeous, you know?”
“You did,” Xavi blurted, then quickly slapped his hand against his mouth with mortification.
“Really, oso?” Lulu cooed, batting his eyelashes in near-swoon, while Joe mumbled his usual cono.
“Right,” Father O’Reilly cleared his throat, clapping his hands together.
“Back to business. It’s time to marry these two fine young men.
” Then, turning toward Liam, the old priest smiled, “Liam, this is your cue. Come here, son.” Liam was a choirboy at All Saints Church, too, and had an even greater voice than Noah.
The pre-teen rushed to Father O’Reilly’s side, and Noah quickly leaned in and ruffled Liam’s hair fondly.
Fuck, he loved his nieces and nephews, and he couldn’t wait to start his own family with Joe.
He wanted a house full of kids, as many as they could fit into one of those mini-buses.
He wanted to take them camping and fishing and ride them around in the fire truck, just like Noah’s dad had done with Noah when he was a kid.
He wanted to take his kids to the hockey rink, three generations of Byrne’s cheering their favorite team to either a victory or a loss.
It didn’t matter which. Life was filled with ups and downs, but at the end of the day, there was family and love… and there was Joe.
“So,” Father O’Reilly started ceremoniously.
“Do you, Noah, take this man, Joe, to be your husband according to God’s holy decree—” A loud simultaneous gasp moved through the room as all eyes zeroed in on the old priest. No one had expected this.
Everyone had assumed that a Catholic priest would leave out this part, find some way to work his way around it, but apparently not Father O’Reilly.
Now it was Noah’s father who looked like he was the one about to crumble in his seat, while Janet’s face remained stoic, unreadable.
Although his oldest sister had come a long way from when she’d called Noah’s love for Joe an ‘offense to God,’ she was still perhaps the most devout Catholic in the family, and Noah knew she must be struggling through this part.
But she stayed quiet, her gaze fixed on Noah, her love for him perhaps, in the end, larger than her love of God.
After the small intermezzo, Father O’Reilly continued. “Do you promise to be to him a loving and loyal husband, to cherish and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, to be faithful only to him as long as you both shall live?”
“I do,” Noah said as he squeezed Joe’s hands. “I promise, Joe.” Joe blinked at him, digging his teeth into his bottom lip.
“And so I ask you, Joe, do you take this man, Noah, to be your husband according to God’s holy decree; do you promise to be to him a loving and loyal husband, to cherish and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, to be faithful only to him as long as you both shall live?”
“Sí!” Joe rushed out. “I mean, yes, I do. I promise, Noah. I mean, Father. Cono!”
The entire room erupted in a mixture of laughter and tears as Noah leaned in and rested his forehead against Joe’s, his voice breaking as he murmured, “Husbands, baby. We’re husbands now.
” It was the most casual and slightly chaotic ceremony Noah had ever attended, but it was beautiful and there was love in abundance, just so much damn love.
Not just between him and Joe, but just in the room altogether.
“Then,” Father O’Reilly, who was truly a saint and perhaps the most patient man ever, spoke loudly over the crowd, “by the power vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may exchange your rings. And a kiss, if you want.” Father O’Reilly waved Liam forward.
“And then I sincerely hope, Aidan, that you’ve provided for a well-stocked bar today, because I need a drink. ”
Joe
“I can’t stop staring at it.” Feeling all love drunk, Joe gazed at the simple gold band adorning his left ring finger. “It’s crazy, isn’t it?”
“What?” Xavi smiled.
Joe rubbed his chest. A sense of calm and gratitude had lingered inside him since he and Noah had said their I dos.
“That I’m married now.” Joe swallowed, his eyes moving from his wedding ring to the dance floor, where Noah was twirling Joe’s mami around to the upbeat tones of some Cuban dance tune.
Noah had long discarded his jacket and bowtie and looked relaxed and radiant as he moved slightly unsteadily, smiling broadly at his mother-in-law.
“Did you see that in the cards for me, mano?” Joe snorted when Noah nearly tripped over his own feet, then looked around the room to see if anyone had noticed, shrugging when his eyes connected with Joe’s.
“Maybe. I don’t know. I think the cards change all the time,” Xavi mused, his eyes fixated hungrily on Lulu, who was doing what looked like some rapid-fire TikTok dance routine with Liam and Maeve.
“They sure changed for you.” Joe bumped his best friend’s shoulder.
Turning toward Joe, Xavi tipped his chin, but softness lingered just beneath the pretend tough exterior. “What?”
“You look different. You… you act differently, too,” Joe said.
“What do you mean?”
“You finally look happy, I guess.” Xavi looked like he was about to object, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times. Then he seemed to relax, realizing there was no reason to.
“I am,” Xavi sighed, tears pooling in his dark eyes.
His voice sounded raw with emotion as his chin trembled just a tad.
Many years ago, when they were just three lost kids finding solace and a sense of home in each other, Joe never imagined he’d get to this place, standing next to Xavi at his own wedding, hearing Xavi admit those words, all choked up.
“I am happy. Truly happy,” Xavi smiled wistfully.
“Good. You deserve it. So does he.” Joe nodded in Lulu’s direction, and at that exact moment, Lulu looked up from the dancefloor, his golden-brown skin shimmering with a fine layer of perspiration, his eyes so dark and deep as they zeroed in on Xavi.
Then Lulu smiled, mouthing, ‘Toda bien?’ And Xavi nodded next to Joe, mouthing something back that Joe couldn’t make out.
Turning toward Joe, Xavi sighed, “I know.” And in that moment, Joe had no doubt Xavi truly meant it. “I love him, you know? Our crazy Lulu. I always have.”
“I know you do.” Joe leaned in, wrapping his arm around Xavi’s shoulder, pulling him against his side in a loose side hug. “He loves you, too. There’s never been a time when he hasn’t.” Joe paused, pursing his lips. “You should ask him to be your boyfriend. He wants you to.”
“I did. We are,” Xavi rasped, snaking his arm around Joe’s waist, hugging him back. His voice almost broke when he continued, “He doesn’t mind my scars, you know. He thinks… he thinks I’m perfect the way I am.”
“Of course he doesn’t.” Joe squeezed Xavi tighter. “And of course you are, mano. You’re one of the best people I know.” Xavi truly was.
Xavi held up his hand in front of them, the marred knuckles lumpy in places, the skin tight in others. “Makes me not mind so much either, you know?”
“Yeah, that’s what happens when you meet someone who sees beyond all your layers. It puts things in perspective.”
“You don’t have layers,” Xavi chuckled.
“Oh, I do, mano, I do. We all do. Even that bailarín locito out there.” Joe nodded toward the dance floor in Lulu’s direction.
“Yeah, I’m starting to see that.”
Lulu was now showing Maeve how to wiggle her butt in her tutu skirt by moving her hips from side to side.
“I’d better go break that up,” Xavi laughed, patting Joe’s back.
“Sounds good. I’ll go kiss my hubby. Wow, that’ll never get old, saying that. Hubby.”
“You’re disgusting, you know that, right?”
“Oye, mano, don’t get too cocky. You see this dopey smile?” Joe pointed at his face while he walked backward toward the dance floor, grinning at Xavi. “That’s you looking in a mirror, cabrón. You look as ridiculous as I do.”
“Lies, all lies.” Xavi shook his head, but he looked like his heart secretly rejoiced that Joe could tell how absolutely gone he was for Lulu.
“You keep telling yourself that, mano.”
Heading in Noah’s direction, Joe tried to school his features, but it was impossible. His mouth just wouldn’t listen. The closer he got to where Noah was dancing, the wider his smile grew until it felt like it had taken over his entire face.
“What are you smiling at?” Noah tilted his head to the side as Joe stopped in front of him and his mami.
“My husband.”
“Yeah?” Noah pursed his lips, and Joe nodded, then leaned in toward his mami.
“Sorry, mami. I can’t wait no more.”
Smiling, his mami leaned up on her toes and pressed a loud lipstick kiss against Joe’s cheek. Frowning at him, she then licked her thumb and started rubbing at the imprint.
“Mami!” Joe objected. “I ain’t a little kid no more. I’m a married man!”
“You’re still my baby. Always will be. Now dance with Noah.” Then she stomped off toward Noah’s mom and sisters, as her hips continued to sway to the beat of the Cuban music.
“Yes, dance with your husband.” Noah smiled crookedly.
Lifting onto his toes, Joe linked his arms around Noah’s shoulders, then leaned in, burying his nose against Noah’s neck. “You better mean me or I’m gonna fuck that ass—”
“You’re cute when you’re all jealous, you know that, baby?” Noah swept his fingers through the hair at the nape of Joe’s neck, and Joe shivered. “You’re the only husband I have,” Noah’s deep voice wrapped around him. “The only one I’ll ever have. So don’t be jealous, baby.”
“I’m not fucking jealous. I’m just a possessive motherfucker.”
“Shhh,” Noah chuckled as he looked around the room. “There’re kids. And a Catholic priest somewhere. ”
“Nah, Father O’Reilly went to bed hours ago. Early flight, or somethin’.”
“Hmmm,” Noah hummed, and suddenly Joe felt it too—tiredness from the past couple of weeks, and all the wedding preparations, pulling at him. “Maybe we should turn in, too,” Joe waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Not a chance. Not before you dance with me, mi vida. It’s our wedding and I wanna dance with mi marido.” Fuck, there was a slight accent to Noah’s pronunciation, but when this big firefighter spoke to Joe in his mother tongue, it did stuff to Joe’s insides which was impossible to put into words.
“Really?” Joe loved dancing, but Noah… not so much. That’s why they’d foregone the traditional wedding dance and just invited everyone onto the dance floor when they’d finished dinner. But Noah was already moving, swaying seductively from side to side, his body so warm and firm against Joe’s.
“Yes.” Leaning in, Noah hummed the lyrics to Until I Found You against Joe’s neck before pressing a gentle kiss against his chin.
“One dance,” Joe murmured, relaxing against Noah, letting the seductive notes carry him away.
“Two,” Noah drawled, his pelvis thrusting forward, his hips meeting Joe’s.
“Okay.” Joe found himself giving in. “For you, corazón,” he smiled into Noah’s chest. “For you, anything. Always.”