All Was Golden in the Sky

“Brendon! Baby, come on, you still haven’t even packed! We need to get going!” Our house wasn’t all that big, but it sure was easy to lose Brendon in it. I kept peeking in each room that I passed, cursing under my breath when I didn’t see him. My suitcase was already dutifully waiting by the front door, and his was laid out on our bed—empty, and only dragged out of the closet because I had yanked it out earlier that morning.

Our wedding was mere days away, and the next few days we would be staying at a hotel near our beautiful venue. We should have been on the road an hour ago, so as not to keep any of our guests waiting, but of course when I woke up that morning Brendon’s side of the bed was disheveled and devoid of any fiancée.

“Down here, Annie!” I followed the sound of his voice down to his music room—heaven knows why I didn’t think to look there first. He smiled up at me from his keyboard when I walked in, and with a sigh I plopped down next to him on his desk.

“Bren, you promised, baby. No song writing on wedding weekend!” Lately every time Brendon got antsy from our no-sex-til-the-honeymoon agreement he had been taking out his frustration on his piano, or his guitar, and just like he knew how to make sweet music with my body, he’d knocked out some pretty fantastic tunes in his nights of somber horniness.

He laughed at me, that adorable chuckle that bordered on giggling, and patted my thigh. “I know, I know. Bear with me, babe. My muse inspired me in the middle of the night and I had to get it down.” His lips replaced his palm, and my knee shivered under his touch.

“You know how we’re not doing vows?” he asked, tickling his fingers against the keys.

“I may be aware of that, yes.” He gave me a face and it took all my willpower to keep up my straight face.

“Well, anyway.” Brendon turned back to the piano for a second before his eyes held me captive again, crinkled into that up-to-no-good smile that first made me swoon three years ago. “I’ve been thinking about us, and our future, and, well, I wrote you a song.” Anyone else would be nervous admitting to writing their soul into words, but Brendon seemed to be completely at ease with it.

He tugged at my hand until I got up from the desk, maneuvering me to stand behind him. I wrapped my arms around his neck in a slight embrace, pressing my lips against his cheek. “Sing on, maestro.”

He kissed my hand before turning to the piano. His fingers were always mesmerizing whenever he played, and I marveled over each chord while nuzzled against him. When his words joined the music, I wondered if he could feel my heart thudding against his back. I hoped it wouldn’t disrupt his tempo.

“Whether near or far I am always yours. Any change in time, we are young again. Lay us down, we’re in love.” The chords were so beautiful, and his fingers tickled the keys like the trickling of a fresh stream. “In these coming years, many things will change; but the way I feel will remain the same. Lay us down, we’re in love.”

Suddenly, I wasn’t so mad that Brendon hadn’t packed yet. I wasn’t worried about our families that were probably already checking into the hotel, wondering where the guests of honor were. I was too damn in love to even care.

Somehow I ended up on Brendon’s lap, and somehow our lips were pressed together in one of the purest kisses we’d ever shared. His arms were wrapped around me, and mine around him, and the piano clanked with the sound of our embrace.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered. “Brendon, I love it. And I love you.” God did I love him.

“Guess I should get packing, huh?” he asked, fingers running over the seams on my jeans.

I nodded and straightened out his collar with a grin. “Probably. If I’m not mistaken, we got us a wedding to attend.”

He picked me up with little effort, ignoring my delighted squeal like he always does. “I do believe you’re right, Miss Greene. Now c’mon.” He took off for the stairs and our laughter echoed in the house as beautifully as the piano. “Let’s go make you a Urie!”

--

I love my family, don’t get me wrong. Let’s get that straight right now. It just cannot be stressed enough how overwhelming it is to have them all together in one place, all vying for your attention while simultaneously making awkward first impressions on your fiancée’s family. Brendon’s parents, Grace and Boyd, were gracious when my aunts cornered them with tales of their bad behavior at funerals. They seemed pretty grateful when their darling little boy saved them from a regaling of the infamous Wiederman funeral, in which somebody’s cell phone went off during the eulogy playing the Exorcists’ theme and my aunt had to leave because she peed on the bench laughing.

It was a good thing I had seated them at completely different tables for both the rehearsal dinner and reception. Although, I had already resigned myself to the fact that something inappropriate was more than likely going to happen. As long as it wasn’t when I was walking down the aisle, I could handle it.

Maybe.

The rehearsal dinner had been going pretty smoothly. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves—Dallon and Breezy were practically wetting themselves in the corner over something Emily had said, and by the glint in her eyes I could tell it had been a story about me; Hannah looked like she was trying to chat up Gabe, who looked like he was thoroughly enjoying it; Kara, Megan and Pete were thoroughly embarrassing Patrick and Elisa; my parents were chatting with Brendon’s, and both mother’s looked dreamy eyed and the father’s slightly unsettled. I could only imagine the topic involved grandchildren.

We weren’t really one for too much tradition, and so the formalness of the event was scratched for a good music system and plenty of room to dance. I squealed when I felt an arm wrap around me and drag me out to the floor; Spencer just grinned at me and spun me around a few times before stepping back and doing some weird kind of butt dance that I had drunkenly invented last year.

“Stealing my moves, Smith?” I teased, rocking back and forth to the beat while my arms swung along with the tempo.

He laughed and swept me into his arms again, leading me into a freestyle swing dance. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Greene,” he chuckled. Other people started to join in the dancing. Brendon shimmied by, giving us a wink as he tried to convince an unenthusiastic Linda to start up a conga line with him. Gabe and William were a bit more willing.

“You look really good, Spence,” I said as we bounced along to the song, throwing in some silly moves here and there.

He grinned. “I feel a lot better. Forgive me if I forgo the champagne during the festivities, though.”

“I’ve already got a bunch of sparkling cider for ya.” He certainly looked a lot healthier, with more color in his cheeks, but I couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t looking me in the eye. He was dancing like he was fine, but I noticed a little twitch in his movements. It was subtle, so small that other people probably wouldn’t notice it, and his eyes flicked to the side where the bar was.

It clicked with me then. He wasn’t that much better. He was still dying, yearning to keep up his addiction.

I just prayed he was strong enough to resist.

“Spencer! Annie! Come on, guys, no one else will get in on this!” Brendon was pouting, his tie loose around his neck and Gabe’s hands on his shoulders. It seemed their conga line hadn’t extended beyond the three of them, and they looked a little ridiculous shuffling around like that.

I giggled and wrapped my arms around Spencer. “It seems Brendon needs our help.”

“Are you up for this? It could be a dangerous mission.” Spencer had that playful spark back in his eye when he looked down at me. Maybe I had been seeing things.

“Danger is my middle name,” I smirked.

He laughed and poked my side. “I thought it was Elizabeth?”

“Only on my birth certificate!”

I tried not to drink too much more that night so Spencer didn’t feel as bad for being the odd man out. I didn’t want to make it any harder for him, and Brendon subconsciously followed suit. That’s how it always seemed to work with us—either we both got drunk, or we both didn’t drink.

“I can’t believe my baby sister is getting married,” Emily sighed later on in the evening. Everyone was starting to simmer down, blowing me kisses as goodbye to get some sleep for the big day tomorrow. Dad had gone up already, but Mom decided to linger down with Emily and me a bit longer. I think they were both starting to feel pretty emotional—Dad just wasn’t as up to letting everyone see it as Mom was.

“I can’t believe it, either,” I murmured. Brendon was kissing his mom goodnight, and I watched on with a smile.

“My baby girl,” Mom cooed. She pulled me into a side hug from her seat next to me, squeezing my shoulder tight. “It feels like just yesterday I came downstairs to see you sitting on your blanket singing A Whole New World.”

“Knowing Annie that probably was just yesterday,” Emily laughed. Mom giggled and ruffled my hair, either ignoring or not seeing me wince when her nails caught in my bobby pins.

“You better not try messing with my hair tomorrow, woman,” I warned. “I’d hate to go Bridezilla on my own mother.”

Mom just laughed and flicked my nose. “Please, I survived you in high school. I think I can handle you on your wedding day.”

“You’ve been surprisingly calm, ya know, Annie,” Emily said. “I haven’t noticed any hints of Bridezilla trying to come out at all. If I’m perfectly honest I expected at list a little meltdown by now.”

I shrugged and my eyes wandered over to Brendon again. He was shaking his dad’s hand as his parents continued up to their room, and his eyes drifted over to me as if he could feel my stare. Every time I looked at him I immediately smiled; he was like seeing happiness walking around as a person.

“I’m honestly surprising I haven’t freaked out a bit more,” I said, turning back to face them. “There just hasn’t been that much to stress about I guess. Brendon has been a big help.”

Emily raised an eyebrow at me before her eyes flickered over to Brendon as he approached our table. He grinned at us, that little mischievous spark glinting in his eyes as he looked at me. “Hate to interrupt you, ladies, but I think it’s time for bed. Big day tomorrow!” He leaned down and pressed his lips to my cheek. “Ready, baby?”

“Oh no, no, no, mister,” Emily said. She shook her finger at the two of us, much like she would when I was younger and she caught me coming home late. “It’s the night before the wedding. You two aren’t staying in the same room.”

Brendon’s face paled, and his fingers dug into my shoulder from where he stood behind me. “W-what? Why not?”

Emily scoffed. “Do you know nothing about weddings? It’s the day before your wedding—the groom isn’t allowed to see the bride the day-of until she’s coming down the aisle!”

Brendon didn’t look so happy when he glanced down at me; his irises were tight around his pupil, and his nostrils were flaring in a panic. He tried forcing a smile and choked out a laugh. “You’re not serious.”

Emily didn’t look at all amused. “Dead serious. Spencer already agreed that you can bunk with him tonight.”

Brendon pouted but refrained from complaining as he pulled out my chair for me and walked us upstairs. “So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” he said as we reached my door. Emily gave us a warning glare before disappearing into her own room, giving us a bit of privacy.

“You better,” I said. I wrapped my arms around his neck and his lips curved up. “Tomorrow’s gonna be so crazy you’ll barely realize you miss me until I’m walking down that aisle.”

“Not true,” he insisted, his hands swirling around my hips. “Imma miss you every minute.” He narrowed his eyes at me and pressed me against my door. “You’re not gonna try to make me cry tomorrow, are ya?”

“I won’t intentionally try to, but I hope you do,” I smirked. His cheek felt so soft beneath my palm, and my fingers dipped in the crevices of his dimples. “I’m going to, and you can’t just let me cry alone, can you?”

He turned his head to press his lips against my hand. “Guess we’re in it together,” he sighed. “Maybe see if Emily will let me borrow some waterproof mascara to be safe.”

“Pretty sure you actually have some of mine in your travel case, babe.”

“Oh. Then we’re good.”

He begrudgingly left me after he had satisfied himself with some swift kisses, and he made sure to look back at me with various degrees of sad expressions on his trek down to Spencer’s room. I blew him a kiss and slipped into my room; the whole thing felt a lot like our early dates, where I so badly wanted to invite Brendon in and he tried to subtly turn me on enough to let him stay the night.

It had to be late, probably near midnight, but I felt wide awake when I slipped beneath my sheets. Everything felt way too quiet without Brendon in there; I kept expecting to hear him tiptoe in the room, muttering something like “Fuck Emily” and snuggling up next to me. But he either really respected this aspect of wedding tradition or Spencer was doing a good job of keeping him in the room. With a sigh, I rolled onto my side so I wouldn’t see the empty space next to me.

My stomach was starting to feel tight. It was like a mixture between the feelings of being excited for Christmas morning and anxious for a big test the next day; I wasn’t sure if I wanted to throw up or get up and dance. Either way, sleep wasn’t coming anytime soon. So I opted for the distraction Pete seemed to always turn to when he couldn’t sleep: Candy Crush.

I was about three chocolates away from flinging my phone into the wall in frustration when a loud knocking on my door snapped me back to reality. I glanced at the time on my phone, and suddenly my stomach lurched. Who would be frantically pounding on my door at one in the morning?

I thought about ignoring it and pretending that I was asleep, but the longer it took for me to get out of bed the more frantic the knocks became. Whoever it was seemed pretty determined to get me up. The entire floor was comprised of our wedding party, so it couldn’t be a maniac…right?

I peeked out the peephole and rolled my eyes. Maniac? Just about.

“Brendon, why aren’t you in bed?” I asked when I opened the door. He was bouncing on his heels, and his pjs were thoroughly ruffled. I guessed he’d been having trouble falling asleep like me, but instead of playing on his phone he had huffed and rolled around with no success.

When he looked at me, his face was blank. I had no clue what he was thinking. I wondered for a moment if he was sleepwalking, but then something in his eyes clicked. He licked his lips, and then my back was slammed into my door, and his hands were in my hair and his mouth covered mine, muffling the sounds of my surprise.

“I don’t care if Emily yells at me,” he mumbled between his kisses after we fell into the room. The door slammed behind us, and I wondered if anyone heard it. “There’s no way I’m not gonna be with you tonight.”

That pressure in my stomach dissipated at his words. All the fear and excitement I’d been feeling washed away when he held me tight to his chest, and instead of getting mad at him for breaking the rules, I tugged him further into the room.

“I was just about to pile all these extra damn pillows up as a snuggle buddy,” I said, trying to keep my voice quiet just in case someone decided to investigate the slamming door. Brendon didn’t fight me when I pushed him onto the bed, and I climbed on after him and nuzzled into his chest. “But they’re nowhere near as comfy as you.”

He grinned and kissed the top of my head, snaking his arms around my waist. “I knew you were just using me for my body.”

“You’re right, I’m marrying you because you’re a wonderful pillow, not because I love you or anything.”

“Damn. I think that means I owe Pete twenty dollars.” He groaned and rolled on top of me, pushing his face into the pillow next to my head. “Is it tomorrow yet?”

He was warmer than my blanket, too. The weight of him over me wasn’t suffocating in the least. It was actually comforting. I could already feel myself starting to succumb to my sudden sleepiness. I decided to ignore how pitiful it might be that I couldn’t fall asleep without him and instead decided to run my fingers through his hair.

“Technically it is. Well, today I guess.” I dragged a hand away and pressed it to my face. “I’m gonna have bags under my eyes.”

“Well I’m sure they’ll be so pretty that Louis Vuitton wants to make some like them.” He yawned in my ear; it was like the scent behind my ear was his tonic for restlessness. “How bad do you think Emily’s going to kick my ass in the morning?”

Somehow I rolled him back over to his side, though he did try fighting me on it, and we lay facing each other. “Probably just a few hissy slaps. She wants the pictures to look good as much as I do.” I started playing with his fingers, smirking when I thought about what threats he would probably receive from my sister in the morning. “Maybe don’t let her break your fingers though, okay?”

His smile turned into a definite smirk. I felt his foot rub against my knee, and he used his thigh to pull my legs closer to him. “Hmm, why’s that?” His voice was practically a purr. His fingers tickled my shoulder and started to slowly brush down my arm to my elbow. “Plans for the honeymoon?”

“Mmmm maybe.” It was technically the day of our wedding; I was allowed to press up against him like this if I wanted. He didn’t seem to mind all that much. “But I also want those fingers to be okay to put a ring on.” His hands seemed pretty content where they were resting against my butt; he gave me a little squeeze and sighed into my hair.

“I don’t know how to win tonight. I can’t sleep without you, and now I’m too damn excited for the wedding that I can’t fall asleep.” He sounded so pitiful, and judging by the pressure I felt on my hip from his lower half I had an idea of what he was trying to imply. Lord knows it’d helped him fall asleep numerous times before.

“Baby, we’re so close though.” Damn him and his lips! I tried twisting away to avoid the kisses he was trailing down my neck, but I was a sucker for those lips, especially when it had been so long since we’d been intimate.

Well, fuck, it was our wedding day, right? We’d been good. Even though it wasn’t technically the honeymoon, we’d be married in a few hours. Before I could protest again, his tongue tickled my earlobe, and damn it all if it didn’t feel good. The moan he coaxed up echoed in the silence, and for a few peaceful moments there was bliss.

And then came more knocking.

“Annie!” Emily hissed through the door. Brendon nearly jumped off me when her fist collided with the door; her knocking was louder than his nearly tenfold. “Anne, you better be fucking some lowlife in there, because so help me God if Brendon is in there I will slap you both!”

“Now I’m a lowlife?” Brendon grumbled, readjusting himself in his pants. “That’s nice.”

“Annie! You open this door right now!” Emily sounded beyond pissed. I had brief flashbacks to other instances of her fury, like when she caught Andy and I making out in his car in the neighborhood when she thought I was staying late for a club meeting.

“Just hush up and get your ass under the bed,” I whispered, pushing him away and hopping off the bed. He didn’t argue; he tumbled over the side with only a second’s hesitation and disappeared just as I opened the door. “Emily, seriously? What are you doing?” I grumbled.

Her eyes narrowed and she peeked in the room, ignoring my attempt at pushing her away. “Where is he?” she snapped. Her eyes looked pretty scary—she looked tired, and yet determined. It was a look I’d endured throughout most of my childhood every time she was mad.

I decided to play along and scowled at her. “Who? You mean my vibrator? ‘Cause you just rudely fucking interrupted us.”

The look on her face was priceless; her usually deathly pale skin lit up crimson, and she stopped glaring into my room long enough to look at me in horror. “Your vibrator?” she asked.

I groaned, not really faking my annoyance. “Em, seriously? Fucking forgive me for trying to unwind! Shall I give you more details or can you spare us both and go back to bed? You’ve thoroughly ruined the mood now.”

She didn’t look completely convinced, but I knew she’d be too mortified to call me out further. “Just keep it down,” she muttered. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Love you too!” I snapped, closing the door away her. I waited until I heard her door close before I returned to the bed. “You better make sure you’re out of here before she comes to get me in the morning,” I warned as I tugged the covers up to my neck. Brendon’s arm wrapped around my middle and pulled me back into his chest; he was chuckling, and I felt his belly shake against my back.

“Yes, mistress,” he giggled with a quick kiss to my cheek. He was quiet for a while, so long that I thought he had fallen asleep, and then he giggled again. “With all the references lately I feel like I know a good present to get you for your birthday.”

“What’s that, babe?”

“A new vibrator. Yours sounds like it’s getting worn out.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

His laughter hit my neck and gave me chills. “Tomorrow night, Annie. We agreed to wait for the honeymoon, remember?”

“I think I might hate you right now.”

“Ssh, I’m trying to sleep.”

And for some reason I was willingly subjecting myself to a forever with this man. He was lucky I loved him so darn much.