Breaking the Glass
Kent doesn’t say anything for a minute. His mouth is occupied with tasting the skin over Alexei’s collarbone. It’s not sexy, really. Not now. He’s sated, and bone-tired, and the arms round him are warm and heavy. His eyes are half closed as he mouths at his fiance’s skin.
Alexei doesn’t answer verbally this time, but draws sluggish fingers through Kent’s hair, mussing his cowlicks more than usual.
“I don’t want to break the glass.”
Alexei shifts, slightly to the side, then tilts his head down to look at Kent. “Why?”
“I don’t…” Kent doesn’t really know how to explain it. He tries to express himself as best he can, but he’s never really been good at it. “Do you ever get tired of everything we get having to be surrounded by misery? My mom…” He stops and takes a breath because he loves his mother. She did her best by him, but sometimes it was so fucking hard, and sometimes he swears she’s only really content when everything in her life is terrible. “I spent so many years being unhappy, Alyosha. Everything was so fucked for so long.”
“Okay,” Alexei says softly, in that way he’s letting Kent know he can keep talking until he gets it all out.
“I met you, and this is the first fucking time that loving someone doesn’t feel like I’m walking on shards of glass. I want…I want…” He stops and pushes his face hard against Alexei’s shoulder, and his eyes squeeze shut. “I don’t want to think about being shattered apart. I don’t want our wedding to represent destruction. Of anything. I want one fucking day where it’s about us, and love, and being happy for the first time in my life. I know it’s not about that. I know it’s not…it’s meant to celebrate being rejoined but…”
“Kenny,” Alexei breathes, and Kent stops talking. He shifts, and Alexei moves so he can cup Kent’s cheek with one, massive hand. His thumb brushes a constellation of freckles just under Kent’s left eye. “Is okay. I’m understand, and want you to be happy. This being our day, Kent. Mine, yours. You not want, is okay. We not have.”
“My mother’s going to be so pissed,” Kent murmurs, and tucks himself deeper into the embrace because he knows that compromising certain traditions is going to be hell. She’ll be angry, but smile through it and he’ll have to weather a tsunami of passive-aggressive bullshit for months to come. If not years. If they have a kid, she’ll send snarky messages about, ‘What traditions are you going to ignore for the birth? Are you going to raise this child as a child of G-d, Kent? Have you been keeping the Shabbat at all?’
But he supposes she’d do it anyway, whether or not they follow every goddamn ceremony to the T. Because she really only knows how to love him like this. She only knows how to drag people down with her, into her well of unhappiness. And he’s accepted that for years now.
“Is okay. I’m be there with you. Our day, Kenny. Want you smiling, no frown.” Alexei runs his thumb across Kent’s bottom lip before he leans in and kisses him, slow and sweet. “No breaking glass.”
“Okay,” Kent says, and he breathes, and feels lighter and calmer than he did before. He hadn’t realised how much it was weighing on him. He knew how fucking lucky he was to find Alexei, and he doesn’t need to smash a glass to be reminded that he knows he was shattered apart. He doesn’t want to celebrate that, and he thinks maybe G-d would understand.
Alexei does, at least, and ultimately that’s what matters most. Right now, anyway.
He lets himself smile after a minute, after his shoulders unclench and his hand moves up to brush a lock of hair from Alexei’s forehead. “I fucking love you, babe.”
“Yes,” Alexei said, his brow furrowed and serious. “I’m know this. Because I’m best.”
Kent laughs, feeling stupid and giddy and fucking wonderful. He nestles in. “Yeah babe. Yeah you really are.”