He would admit that they were not the perfect, flawless couple.
Even as much as they loved each other, thought the world of each other, they did have their differences, and argued just like any other couple in the world.
It just seemed to be happening more during the planning of the wedding.
‘No, we’re not having a first dance! I thought we weren’t going in for all the traditional wedding stuff?’
‘It’s the only thing I want that’s traditional! Why are you making this so hard?’
They’ve been engaged for nearly six months. It was hard for him to believe it had been so long since it had happened; the fairy lights in the tree, the ring, the set-up, the happy squealing of the next door neighbour’s daughter and her friends as they provided in-real-life fan service for their boys love addiction with delighted kisses. Every inch of the memory was precious.
Except it meant actually planning a wedding. And that’s from where the problem stemmed.
Exasperated, Ciel sighs. It’s the same argument that’s peppered their conversations for the last week and a half. It’s not that he just doesn’t want to dance. It’s that he can’t dance without becoming a walking disaster, and it’s something he would rather keep out of their wedding if at all possible. The last thing he wants is for one or both of them to end up in the emergency room.
With pleading eyes, he turns to face his fiancé again. ‘Sebastian, please. I don’t want to make an idiot of myself at our wedding, of all days. I don’t want to embarrass you, and I don’t want to embarrass myself.’
‘I don’t care about any of that…I just want to dance with the man I love on our wedding day.’ As he turns away to the kitchen, a hurt look passes over the other’s face, and Ciel’s stomach drops.
They had both agreed on several things for the wedding; there would be lots of cake, at least one pie, and lots of sex on their wedding night. Sebastian, knowing Joker could now carry on the name Michaelis himself, stated outright that he wants to take Ciel’s surname. They’d both instantly said that a church wedding was too formal; neither of them were particularly religious, and there weren’t many churches in the area that would marry two men anyway. And despite Sebastian’s joking around with Lizzie, Sieglinde, and Ciel’s mother and aunt, Ciel wouldn’t be wearing a wedding dress on the day.
The only thing they really, really couldn’t agree on was the first dance, and whether there should be one at all.
He’d been so agreeable about everything else, from Ciel’s insistence on chocolate cupcakes with vanilla buttercream, to the choice of colours. They had been right of course; Rachel had already planned out everything in black, blue, and silver, and they were both completely content with that choice.
A pang of guilt rattles him. It really is the only thing Sebastian is insisting on.
Ciel trails into the kitchen, walking up behind Sebastian standing at the sink. His head hangs, a small frown marring his beautiful features as he washes some of the dishes from the night before. He pauses as Ciel reaches around his stomach and hugs him close from behind.
It’s the one thing Sebastian has asked for, and if it makes him happy, then he’ll do it. ‘I’ll take dance lessons.’
The man turns in his arms, incredulousness written across his face. ‘Really?’
‘Really. You’ve gone along with so much of what we’ve been planning already. The least I can do is give you a first dance as husband and…well, husband.’
The frown lessens. ‘I swear our first dance won’t be anything too embarrassing.’
‘The song, maybe, but my dancing will be,’ he snorts back.
A smile from Sebastian, and the air clears.
As Sebastian kisses him and turns back to the dishes, Ciel rolls his eyes. One dance can’t be too awful.