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On Pearl’s birthday–Grian’s not quite sure how old she’d be turning, as he lost count long ago–Grian goes out and gets profoundly drunk. 

It’s a (yearly) habit for him. He goes out and has a drink (or more) in her honor and then he mourns the loss of his entire fucking childhood in the process. Joel waves goodbye from the bakery and Jimmy just gives him a sad sort of look but lets him go, and Grian promises to be back that night, since he usually is. 

It does not go that way, this time. 

The thing about day drinking is that there’s very few people who do it, even on Fridays, which means that when a man sits down next to Grian, Grian notices him immediately. 

“Well, hello there,” the man says. “Might I ask what brings you here today?” 

Grian gives the man a once-over. Nice broad shoulders, strong arms, charming smile, and floppy brown hair that adds to his charm. 

Grian quite possibly thinks that this might be the hottest man he’s ever seen. 

“Mourning,” he says honestly. “You?” 

“I’m sorry to hear that. As for me, I’ve broken someone’s very important machinery, so I fear that I’ll be dead soon.” 

“Mourning yourself, then,” Grian says. He traces the condensation on his glass, weighs his options.

The man really does have a nice face. 

“Misery loves company?” he asks. 

“Why, so it does, my good sir.” The man’s face brightens as he takes Grian in. “Well, if we’re to be drinking buddies today, may I have your name?” 

“It’s Grian,” Grian says. “And yours?” 

“Scar.” Scar holds out his drink for Grian. “Cheers?” 

“Cheers,” Grian says, and clinks his glass against Scar’s. 

Scar, Grian finds out later, is an excellent drinking partner, and an even better kisser. Among other things. 

Hours later, when they’re both tired and sated and Grian is pleasantly floaty, Grian has the best idea of his life.

“That was quite possibly the best sex I’ve ever had,” Grian says. He’s tracing idle lines onto Scar’s arm. Scar’s lost in thought, probably distracted by whatever caused him to mourn himself.

“Can I keep you?” Grian asks. 

“Like, permanently?” Scar asks. “What does that entail?” 

“Yeah. Permanently.” Grian pulls away to peer up at Scar’s face. Scar’s looking at him patiently, waiting for Grian to elaborate on what keeping Scar would entail. 

He doesn’t. 

“Was it good for you?” he asks instead. 

“It was really, really good,” Scar tells him. “I’d have to agree with you. Best sex of my life.” 

“Okay, okay.” Grian hums, his hands still tracing lines up and down Scar’s shoulders. “So. Best sex of our lives. Wanna get married?”  

Scar doesn’t even hesitate. “Okay,” he says. “Sure.” 

Grian looks at him, squinting at Scar’s face to see if he’s being serious or not. “Wait, for real?”

There’s not a trace of mirth in Scar’s face. He seems pretty serious. 

“You’re pretty cute,” Scar replies. “I like you. We just had mind blowing sex. Getting married sounds like the best idea ever.” He catches one of Grian’s hands and gives his palm a kiss. Grian’s heart flutters. “Think of all the sex we could have. Let’s get married.” 

“Right now?” Grian asks. “Would that be okay?”

“Why not?” Scar asks. “No time like the present, right?” 

Grian considers this in his head. It makes perfect sense, he decides. Fantastic sex, the hottest man on earth for a husband…what more could he want?

He nods. “Okay,” he says out loud. “Put your shirt back on. Where’s the nearest courthouse?” 

After the wedding is the honeymoon. Obviously. 

When Grian wakes up the next morning, there’s a naked man in his bed. 

This is less of a crisis than one would expect. Grian is also naked, so it doesn’t take him long to put two and two together. 

His next step is to take stock of surroundings, so even though his head is pounding and his stomach feels like it might revolt if he moves too fast, he looks around the room. His clothes are on the floor, tangled up with the other man’s. On the nightstand is his phone, and he’s relieved to see that he had the foresight to plug it in. He doesn’t recognize the room–which, great, now he’s going to have to figure out where he is–but most of his stuff is in it, so he just needs to make his getaway. 

His brothers will be expecting him. 

Unfortunately, the other man chooses that moment to open his eyes and groan. 

“Good morning,” Grian says. 

The man’s green eyes focus on Grian. 

“Well, hello there,” the man says. Scar, Grian recalls belatedly. Oh, he truly had the best dick of Grian’s life. Grian’s suddenly in a lot less of a hurry to leave. 

His brothers can wait. 

“Come here often?” Scar asks, giving Grian a very obvious once-over. 

“Did you seriously just use that line on me?” Grian asks, even though he can feel a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“Depends. Is it working?” 

Grian can’t resist. He bends down and kisses Scar, morning breath be damned. Maybe it’ll fix his hangover. 

“It’s working,” he says. 

“So round two?” Scar murmurs against his lips. 

“Absolutely,” Grian replies. 

Neither of them says anything for a while after that. 

They’re lying in bed, sheets now thrown on the ground, both of them sated and happy, when Scar says, “Grian,” in a decidedly nervous and uncertain tone of voice. 

“What?” Grian asks. 

“...did we get married yesterday?” Scar asks. 

Grian pauses and goes over his memories of the previous day. He recalls waving goodbye to Jimmy and Joel in the morning, then getting approached by an extremely hot man (the same one currently in his bed, who, Grian is privately relieved to note, is just as hot today as he was yesterday), he recalls sleeping with said extremely hot man (and, Grian is also relieved to note, the sex is better hungover than when they were drunk), and…he does recall talking about marriage, now that Scar mentions it. 

“Scar,” he says, horror creeping over him. “I think…we did.” 

“My mom’s going to kill me,” Scar says, and throws an arm over his face. 

“My brothers are going to be pissed that I didn’t invite them,” Grian adds. 

“I’m screwed.” Scar reaches over and grabs his own phone, eyes widening as he starts scrolling through the messages. “I’m in so much trouble.” 

“Are you?” Grian asks, suddenly worried about his own well-being. “Did I marry a child?” 

Scar ignores him. “I told my mom that I’d be back for dinner yesterday…she’s going to be so mad.”

“Alright, husband,” Grian says. It feels weird on his tongue, calling someone “husband”. He never thought that he’d get married. 

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Grian decides. “I will take you home to your mother, and we’ll explain the situation.” He pauses, then adds, “But first, I think we should clean up and get some breakfast.”  

Scar stares at him in disbelief. “You want to meet my mom?”

“We’re married, Scar.” Grian giggles a little. It’s a nervous sound. “Aren’t you supposed to meet the in-laws?” 

Scar snorts. “Sure,” he says. “Yeah, okay. Where’s a good place for breakfast?” 

“So are we staying married?” Scar asks once they’re sitting down and eating. “Like, what is the plan here?”

“I don’t know.” Grian pokes at the eggs on his plate. “Maybe? Was the wedding even legally binding?” 

“We went to the courthouse, Grian,” Scar reminds him. 

Grian does, vaguely, remember the trip to the courthouse. “...Well, maybe they misfiled it or something.” 

Scar, at least, pretends to consider this, and even turns over their marriage certificate as if it might have a secret label declaring it null and void on the other side. “The certificate looks pretty legitimate,” he finally says. He shovels potatoes in his mouth while still staring down the piece of paper that declares them as legally married. “Do we know any divorce lawyers?” 

“Nope.” 

Scar sighs, and his mouth pulls into a frown. “Same.” 

“So for the time being, we’re staying married.” Grian groans. “That’s not too bad, I suppose. We’ll just have to figure out if anyone we know might know someone who happens to be a divorce lawyer.” 

“Do we have to move in together?” Scar asks.

“Honestly, I don’t think I have space for another person,” Grian admits. The apartment he shares with Jimmy and Joel barely has enough space for the three of them as it is. There’s no way he can fit Scar in there. 

“Yeah, and I live with my mom, so that’s not happening.” Scar groans. “Then outside of being legally bound, I suppose being married doesn’t mean much.”

“Then that’s not too bad,” Grian says. “Honestly. It could be kind of fun, being married out of nowhere.” 

“We tell people that we married a stranger?” Scar laughs. “Everyone’s going to be so confused.” 

“Yeah, why not,” Grian says. “We’ve got the certificate, we might as well have some fun, right?” He meets Scar’s gaze. “We can just get it annulled once we find someone who can divorce us. It’s not that serious.” 

“You know what, Grian?” Scar says. A slow smile spreads across his face. In the morning light, even in last night’s clothes and sex-mussed hair, Grian still finds himself rendered speechless by just how hot Scar is. 

“I think we could confuse the hell out of a lot of people,” Scar tells him, and Grian finds himself smiling along with him.   

After breakfast, Grian takes Scar back to his house. They’re both quiet, right up until they reach Scar’s house.

“Ready to tell your mom?” Grian asks.

“This is your last chance to back out,” Scar replies. He looks surprisingly solemn. “I know we said that we should have fun with it while the marriage lasts, but I won’t blame you if you want to turn around and pretend this never happened.”

Grian scoffs. “No way,” he says. He’s never once backed down from a decision of his, no matter how disastrous the results may be. “You said your mom would be worried. At the very least, I have to tell Mother Scar that I brought her son home safe and sound.” 

And that begs another question: how come Grian hasn’t heard anything from Joel or Jimmy yet? His phone hasn’t buzzed once this morning, and his brothers are some of the clingiest people he’s ever met. 

Problems for later, he decides. Right now, he’s meeting the in-laws. 

“Mother Scar…” Scar says quietly as he follows Grian up to the front porch. Grian presses the doorbell for them. 

“Scar’s home!” someone shouts from inside the house, and the door is being pulled open gleefully by a boy who looks a little younger than Jimmy. “Mom, Scar’s not dead! And he’s brought a friend!” 

“Hey, Bdubs,” Scar says. “Bdubs, this is Grian. Grian, this is my brother Bdubs.” 

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Grian says, because he’s determined to win over the in-laws, spontaneous and unplanned as this marriage might have been. 

A tall redheaded woman appears in the entryway, hands on her hips. “Oh, hello Scar,” she says cooly, and Scar audibly gulps. Grian almost takes a step back. “And who might this be?”

“He’s Grian!” Bdubs says cheerfully. “He’s Scar’s friend.” 

“Hey, Mom,” Scar says. “Mind if we come in? I have some news I’d like to share with you.”

“Oh right, come in,” the woman says. “I’m Cleo. Who might you be?”

“Grian,” Grian says, stepping inside the house. He reaches out and takes Scar’s hand in his. “I’m Scar’s husband.” 

The ensuing silence is deafening. 

Scar flashes the room a nervous smile. Grian suddenly wishes that he’d waited until they were all sitting down to drop that particular bomb on them. 

Too late for that now, he supposes. 

“How nice,” Cleo says in the sort of voice that means the exact opposite. She has a fake smile pasted on her face. “Why don’t you come inside, sit down, and tell me exactly how this happened.” 

Her voice tells Grian that he does not have a choice in the matter, at all. Grian’s suddenly never been more afraid in his life. He numbly follows Cleo into the living room, barely taking note of his surroundings. 

“It’ll be alright,” Scar whispers to Grian.

“You’re in trouble,” Bdubs hisses to Scar. “Also, how come you went and got married? And you didn’t invite me? Was Dad there? Does he know you’re married?” 

“I’ll tell you more if Mom doesn’t kill me first,” Scar hisses back. 

“Your father better not have been there,” Cleo calls back.

“He wasn’t!” Scar says. 

“Nope,” Grian agrees. “No one was.” He frowns after he says that. It can’t be right; they can’t have had no one there. They would have needed a witness. 

But when he tries to remember who their witness was, he can’t recall who exactly it was. He remembers arguing with Scar over who got a best man, but who even was the best man? 

It wasn’t his brothers, that’s for sure.  

Well, that’s why most people don’t get married while they’re drunk, he supposes. 

Scar pulls Grian down to sit on the couch, keeping their hands linked the whole time. Grian appreciates it. 

“So tell us about the wedding,” Bdubs says as soon as everyone’s seated. His eyes are practically twinkling, and he’s leaning in to interrogate Scar. “What was it like? Who came? You can’t have had no one there. Were you drunk?” 

“Noooo,” Scar says, in the least believable voice Grian’s ever heard, while at the same time Grian says, “Maybe a little.”

“Scar!” Bdubs gasps. “How could you?” 

“Tell me more about this relationship,” Cleo demands. “How long have you known each other? How did you meet? Why didn’t you say anything about a boyfriend, Scar?” 

“...we met at a bar,” Scar says. “Not very romantic, but, well, all relationships have to start somewhere!” 

“It was very much a shotgun wedding,” Grian says. He’s already dug his grave; he might as well go all in. “We’ve been married for most of the time that we’ve known each other.” 

Cleo’s smile drops from her face. “Are you being serious?” 

“We met last night?” Scar frames it like a question. 

“And you decided to get married?!” Cleo demands.

“I mean,” Grian says, and gestures vaguely in Scar’s direction. “Have you seen him?”

“Grian proposed,” Scar says. “It was his idea.”

Cleo’s glare is a thing of knives. 

“Well, he said yes!” Grian protests. 

“So let me get this straight,” Cleo says. “You propositioned my son and then decided to marry him, all in the same night?” 

“I think you mean let me get this gay,” Bdubs mutters. 

Everyone ignores him.

“Who said anything about propositioning,” Grian says weakly, even though that’s basically what happened. 

He privately makes a resolution to never drink again. 

“We did consummate the marriage; we booked a hotel room for the honeymoon and everything,” Scar says. “So, I’m pretty sure we’re legally bound permanently.” 

“Okay, Scar, I don’t think you know how marriage works,” Cleo says. 

“We do have a marriage contract,” Grian tells her ruefully. “It’s even signed.” 

“So you really did get married! And you didn’t even invite me!” Bdubs throws himself dramatically on one of the armchairs. “Scar, how could you? I thought I was going to be your best man.” 

“You can attend the next one,” Cleo tells him. “Because they’re getting an annulment.”

“No we aren’t,” Grian says immediately. He might not recall much of the wedding, but there’s no way he’s getting an annulment. Not now. “We’re in love, and we might have rushed things a little, but when you know, you know!”

He is definitely going to have to talk to Scar about this later.  

“I forbid you from marrying my son,” Cleo snaps. “You didn’t even bother to meet the family before the wedding.”

“I think Scar can make his own decisions on that,” Grian retorts. “Scar said yes, so we’re now married in the eyes of the law AND god.” 

Never mind that Grian has never believed in god. 

“Scar, what do you have to say for yourself?” 

“I mean, Grian’s been the perfect gentleman,” Scar says. “So far he’s paid for breakfast, brought me home, and now he’s meeting the family. I don’t have any complaints.” 

Cleo inhales. 

“Well, he is an adult,” Bdubs points out. 

“Bdubs.”

“What! He is!” 

“Mom, you don’t understand,” Scar says. “I broke Doc’s machine yesterday.” 

Grian can see the moment Cleo loses about ten years of her life. 

“Scar,” she says. 

“I thought I was a goner! In fact, I’m pretty sure that I am still a goner! He’s gonna kill me, Mom!” 

“Oh, Scar,” Bdubs says, and shakes his head. “You don’t break Doc’s machinery. Why would you do that?” 

“Well, I didn’t mean to break it,” Scar protests. “It was an accident.” 

“You broke his drill?” Cleo demands. 

“Well…” Scar drags out the word. “A little bit more than that, too.” 

“What did you do, exactly?” 

“Something definitely exploded,” Scar says. “So as you can see…I have limited life opportunities! I had to seize the moment!” 

“So you got married?!” 

“He’s very nice,” Scar says. 

“I hate to impose,” Grian says, “But who’s Doc?” 

“Oh, he’s an engineer,” Bdubs says. “Real scary when he gets mad. Has the most perfect evil villain laugh I’ve ever heard.” 

“I see.” 

That explains why Scar was mourning himself, Grian thinks. 

“Bdubs, could you give us a moment?” Cleo asks. “I’d like to talk to Grian and Scar, alone.” 

“Are you sure?” Bdubs asks, but when Cleo looks over at him, he nods and leaves. Before he leaves, he mouths, “Tell me everything!” to Scar. 

“So,” Cleo says as soon as Bdubs is gone. “Let me get this straight. You met my son last night, married him, and have no intentions of divorcing him.”

“That’s right,” Grian says. His neck itches under his sweater, and he desperately wants to take his leather jacket off. Even so, he holds Cleo’s gaze. “Scar’s been perfectly lovely, and I intend to treat him right for as long as he’ll have me.” 

“He has been,” Scar says. “He even bought me breakfast.”

Cleo’s mouth thins, and she gives Grian a long look. Grian stares right back. 

“Come on, can’t he come to family dinner?” Scar asks. 

“Oh, I’d hate to impose,” Grian says. 

“We’re married,” Scar reminds him. “It’s not an imposition.” 

Grian turns to Cleo. “Well…only if it’s okay with your mother?” 

The room is perfectly silent. Scar’s hand is the only thing tethering Grian to the room right now, because otherwise Grian would flee. 

Cleo sighs. “Fine,” she says, throwing her hands up in the air. “Fine. We are having family dinner tonight; you can meet Scar’s father. Be here around six, and don’t be late. Now get out, I have things to do.” 

Grian will show up at five, if he needs to. 

“Family dinner at six,” he repeats, a thought suddenly occurring to him as he processes Cleo’s invitation. “Would you mind if I invited my brothers?”

“You have brothers?” Cleo asks. 

“I’ve got two; Joel’s older than me, Tim’s a bit older than Bdubs, I think,” Grian tells her. “We’ve really only got each other; would it be alright if they joined us? They’d love to meet you.” 

Cleo narrows her eyes at him. “Do they know that you’ve married my son?” 

“Ah. Well,” Grian says, and winces as he thinks of the upcoming conversation with his brothers. “Yes,” he lies. 

“They weren’t at the wedding, though,” he adds, as if that will make things better. Who knows? It might. Cleo might be gratified to know that she wasn’t the only family member to miss the wedding.  

Cleo’s silent for a few more moments, before she sighs. “Fine,” she says. “Any dietary restrictions I should know about?”

“Nope,” Grian tells her. “Now, it was lovely meeting you–” It was, in fact, probably one of the worst “meet the in-laws” meetings ever “–But I’ve got to get going.” Never mind that Cleo had already told him to leave. Grian’s making this exit on his own terms. “I’ll see you around six?” 

“Yes,” Cleo says. “Bring your brothers. And don’t be late.” 

Grian nods. “Of course,” he says. He’s never been so afraid for his life. “It was nice meeting you.” 

And with that, he stands up, tugs Scar to his feet, and makes a tactical and unhurried retreat out of the room, back to the entrance.

“That went well,” he says drily. 

“It could’ve gone worse,” Scar says. “Thanks for doing that, by the way. Are you heading out?” 

“I should get going,” Grian says ruefully. “My brothers will want to know if I’m alive or not.” 

“Are you sure?” Scar asks. “It’s fine with me if you want to stay. My cat would love to meet you.” 

“Later.” Grian smiles. “I really do need to go home. But I’ll see you for family dinner?”

“Of course,” Scar says. “And your mysterious brothers?” 

“And my brothers.” Grian grins. “It’ll be fun. They’ll love you.” 

“Oh, this is going to be great,” Scar says. His smile widens. “Mom does like you, I think, since she’s invited you to family dinner.” 

“Didn’t you tell her to do that?” Grian asks. 

“...I’ll talk to her a bit more and see if I can calm her down.” 

“Thanks, Scar,” Grian says. “I’ll see you later, then?” 

“Yup.” And then Scar’s bending down and giving Grian another kiss, this one on his forehead, and Grian feels all warm and tingly inside. “Bye, husband.” 

“Bye, husband,” Grian says, and he walks out of the house. 

Then he groans, because Joel and Jimmy will never let him live this down. 

At least neither of them are as terrifying as Cleo, he thinks. He’s kind of surprised that he managed to survive that. 

“Hello, boys,” he calls as he lets himself into the apartment that he shares with Jimmy and Joel. “How are you?”

“Grian!” Jimmy almost immediately throws his arms around him, and Grian sways from his weight. He’s used to Jimmy tackling him, though, so he doesn’t fall. “We were so worried that we lost you forever!” 

“You were; I wasn’t.” Joel appears behind Jimmy and gives Grian a long once-over. Grian squirms under his gaze. “What happened to you? And why didn’t you answer your bloody phone? Jim called you a bunch.”

“You called him too, don’t lie.” Jimmy hooks his chin over Grian’s shoulder to glare at Joel.

“I didn’t see those,” Grian says honestly, taking off his shoes and striding over to their kitchen table. Jimmy’s still clinging to him, but he is at least willing to move with Grian, so Grian doesn’t shove him off. 

Besides, Jimmy always gets stressed when one of them is gone for too long. Grian can put up with a little clinginess. 

“And I’ll tell you after you give me some lunch,” he tells Joel. 

Joel whips out a plate, throws two pieces of bread on it, and dumps it in front of Grian. 

“Joel! What’s this?”

“Lunch,” Joel replies, sitting down opposite Grian. Jimmy sits in his own chair. “Now spill.” 

Grian sighs. “Can I at least have some butter?”

“Butter is for boys who don’t leave their brothers ALONE,” Joel declares, slamming his hands on the table. “Tell us what happened, and we’ll consider giving you some.”

Grian scowls. “I’m not telling you anything until you give me something other than plain bread.” 

“Here, Grian,” Jimmy says, and slides him the butter. 

“Thank you, Tim,” Grian says, and sticks his tongue out at Joel. “See, Tim loves me.” 

“Tim!” Joel swipes at the butter. Grian pushes it away from him. “He abandoned us! He told us that he was going on a bloody honeymoon!” 

Grian pauses. “I did? But my phone didn’t…” He trails off and pulls out his phone. 

It’s on a very incriminating “do not disturb”. Grian slowly puts it back down, suddenly afraid to actually check his messages. And the missed calls.  

No wonder his phone had been so quiet during breakfast. Grian had been too focused on not throwing up and the damned marriage certificate to worry about his phone. 

“But he came back,” Jimmy says, like it makes all the difference. To Jimmy, it probably does. “He can have some butter.”

“Fine.” Joel releases the world’s fakest and most put-upon sigh Grian’s ever heard, but he does stop trying to swipe Grian’s butter. “Enjoy your bread and butter. Now tell us what happened.” 

Grian butters his bread with the hard-won butter, then takes a bite just to draw out the suspense.

“Well,” he eventually says. “I met someone last night.” 

This statement is greeted by wolf-whistles (courtesy of Jimmy) and groaning (courtesy of Joel). 

“We figured that much, you slut,” Joel says. “We want an explanation for the honeymoon text.” He pauses, then adds, “Did you go for rounds two and three in the morning, because normally you’re back a lot earlier from your hook-ups.” 

“I’m getting there,” Grian says, and takes a bite of bread. “So. I met someone, we hooked up, and it was excellent. Then…I may or may not have proposed. And he may or may not have said yes.” 

“Grian,” Joel and Jimmy say in unison. Jimmy gasps. 

“And then we got married, went to a hotel for our honeymoon, had round two, and then we got breakfast. Which I paid for, by the way, because I’m an excellent husband.” 

“You married someone off the street?” Joel yells. 

“And you didn’t even invite us?!” Jimmy shrieks. Grian winces at the volume of their voices.

“I’m still very hungover, please don’t shout at me.” 

Jimmy produces a glass of water out of nowhere and slides it to Grian. Grian gulps down half of it immediately. 

“So where is this husband of yours?” Joel asks. “Bad boys have to meet each other’s husbands, you know.” 

“He’s at his house,” Grian says. “But don’t worry!” he adds when both Joel and Jimmy start protesting. “We’ve been invited to family dinner tonight. I need you both to be on your best behavior, because we are meeting the in-laws and I need to make a good impression.”

“Bad boys don’t make bad impressions on the in-laws,” Joel says. “Don’t worry, Grian, they’ll love us.” 

“So tell us a bit more about your husband?” Jimmy asks. 

“His name’s Scar, and he’s very hot.” Grian smiles smugly at his brothers. 

“...and?” Joel asks. 

“And what?” Grian demands. 

“What’s his favorite color? Is he a morning person or a night person? Does he like bread? Is he allergic to gluten?” Joel starts listing off questions on his fingers. “Does he like cats? What’s his family like? What does he want to be when he grows up?” 

“...look,” Grian says when he realizes that he doesn’t know the answer to any of those questions, except maybe the one about Scar’s family. “Sometimes, when you meet someone, you just know that they’re it for you, and you get married!” 

“You don’t know this guy at all, Grian, why are you married?!” Joel yells. 

“I don’t think he even knows his last name,” Jimmy adds in a fake whisper. 

“Well it doesn’t matter, because he took mine,” Grian retorts. 

They had kept their last names, at least, but Grian’s already forgotten what the marriage certificate said. Even so, he’s not about to tell Jimmy that he was right. 

He does make a mental note to ask Scar what his last name is later.

“Are you sure you’re married?” Jimmy says suddenly. “Because, Grian…you don’t even have a ring.” 

Grian stares down at his bare hand. “Uh,” he says, rather intelligently. “We’re…getting them. We ordered them, you see, they’ll be ready for pick-up tonight.” 

And now he has to buy Scar a ring. 

He doesn’t even know what kind of ring Scar would like. 

Oh, this was such a bad idea. Grian really needs to stop committing to the most harebrained of schemes. 

He’s still going to buy Scar the fanciest ring he can. It’s what a good husband would do. 

“Oh, will they?” Joel asks. “Can we go see?” 

“Yeah, surely you’ve got a picture of the rings,” Jimmy chimes in. 

“...you’ll see them when you see them!” Grian shouts. “Leave me alone!” 

“He definitely doesn’t have rings, Jimmy,” Joel says in a fake whisper. “This is the worst prank I’ve ever seen. Grian, what actually happened?” 

This is not a hill Grian wants to die on. 

“Fine,” Grian grumbles, and takes a vicious bite of his bread. “I’m married, you’re coming with me to family dinner tonight, and I’m getting him a ring. Later. And you’re not invited to that part.” 

Jimmy cheers. Joel’s jaw drops. 

“So you actually got married to a man you just met, and we’re actually going to meet his family tonight?” Joel asks. “Where did you find someone willing to marry you in one night?” 

“I’m a catch, Joel,” Grian snaps. “You’re just jealous that you don’t have a husband.” 

“What would I do with a husband?” Joel demands. 

“We should bring them a present,” Jimmy interjects. “You know, like a ‘sorry our brother married your son’ present.” He pauses, then adds, “It’s going to have to be a really good present.” 

“Cleo loves me and is not mad that Scar married me at all!” Grian shrieks. “No apology presents are necessary!”

“Okay, so she hates you,” Joel says. Grian can’t even protest, because it is, unfortunately, true. “Well, since we’ve got extra bread, and Jimmy makes pretty good carrot cake, what do you say about bringing some fresh bread and carrot cake over for dinner?” 

“Do we even have bread to bring over?” Grian asks. 

“I just said we had extra bread,” Joel says. “You weren’t even at the shop yesterday!” 

Grian ignores him. 

“We’re the bad boys, of course we have bread.” Jimmy looks mildly affronted. “And I’ll get started on the cake.” 

Grian sighs. “Fine,” he says. “Dinner’s at six. I need to take a nap, I think.” 

“Next time don’t get married to the first hot guy you see,” Joel replies. “You might be less tired that way.”

“It’s going to be fine! I know what I’m doing!” 

“You clearly don’t,” Jimmy says. “Which is concerning, because you’re always saying that you’re the only one who knows how to do anything around here.” 

“Marrying Scar was not a mistake,” Grian snaps. “You’ll see.” 

He really, really hopes that this whole thing doesn’t blow up in his face. It cannot blow up in his face, or he’ll never live it down. 

He just hopes that Scar feels the same way. 

Grian does end up taking Jimmy and Joel go ring shopping with him after taking a short nap (or rather, Grian tried to sneak out but they followed him out of their apartment, so Grian eventually relented and let them tag along). After much debate, he ends up picking out a pretty gold ring with an emerald set in the center. “It’ll match his eyes,” he tells his brothers, and Jimmy snorts and Joel mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “whipped” under his breath. Then they all return home; Jimmy puts the finishing touches on the carrot cake, Joel packs up two loaves of bread, and the three of them make themselves as presentable as possible before heading over to Cleo’s house. 

Grian is terrified. 

“You have to be on your best behavior,” he orders as Joel drives them. “Don’t be weird, and remember your manners.” 

“Tell us a little bit about them?” Jimmy prompts. 

“Scar’s got a little brother, Bdubs, who can’t be any older than you,” Grian says. “Um, I don’t know what’s up with the father, but it sounds like he’s not? Really involved? But he comes over for dinner. Cleo hates my guts, and she’s very intimidating, so stand your ground but don’t be mean. Scar’s great, though. You’ll love him.” 

“Okay,” Joel says. “Don’t piss off Cleo, Jimmy should become best friends with Bdubs, and Grian needs to remain five feet apart from Scar the whole time. Got it.” 

“He’s my husband!” 

“Yeah, no, five feet apart, leave room for Jesus or whatever they say,” Jimmy says. 

“Don’t agree with him!” Grian protests.

“No, no, no, Grian, Grian, listen to me,” Joel says. “Cleo hates you, and you’ve married her precious son after knowing him for less than 24 hours. You must be as pg as possible. Don’t even kiss, unless it’s on the cheek. Cleo does not want to see you defile Scar at her dinner table. So stay five. Feet. Apart.” 

“I’m not going to defile him!” Grian shouts. 

“Grian, you leave marks,” Jimmy says. He sounds distinctly unimpressed, a little bit grossed out, and a lot bit pained. “I’ve seen far more than I ever wanted to. You definitely defiled him.” 

Grian gasps. “I’ve never defiled anyone in my life! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” 

Jimmy might have a point, actually, but. He’s not going to defile Scar at the dinner table; he has some shame. 

“Don’t lie to me!” Jimmy yells. “You know what you’ve done!” 

“I don’t defile people!” 

“Yes, you do!” 

“No, I don’t!” 

“Everyone shut up!” Joel yells, and parks the car a little too aggressively. Grian grabs the car door as his body lurches forward. “We’re here! Now, we are going to get out of the car and be the most normal and polite group of boys that Cleo’s ever seen, and Grian will be the most polite and chaste husband to Scar, and we’ll leave with their blessing! Because bad boys don’t let fellow bad boys get into messy relationships with the in-laws!” 

“Right, we can do that,” Jimmy says. He holds up the carrot cake. “I’ve got the cake right here.” 

“And I have the bread,” Joel says. 

“We’re early,” Grian notes, looking at the clock. “Should we…wait?” 

“For ten minutes?” Joel asks. “Isn’t it creepier to sit outside their house?” 

“It should be fine,” Jimmy says. “Come on. Let’s go.” 

The three of them climb out of Joel’s car, and then Jimmy sneaks behind Grian and then Joel is also sneaking behind Grian, so Grian ends up leading the three of them up to the front door. Which, in Grian’s opinion, makes them all look ridiculous, since he has the misfortune to be the shortest of the three. 

Good thing Cleo doesn’t seem to think too highly of him. Otherwise, Grian’s sure that she’d think he’s a total idiot. 

“Alright, Bad Boys,” Grian says. “Ready to meet the in-laws?” 

“And your husband,” Joel adds. He steps forward and adjusts his leather jacket. Grian belatedly wonders if he should’ve told him to leave the jacket at home. Too late now, he supposes.

“Shall I do the honors?” Joel asks. 

He doesn’t wait for Grian to respond. Joel hits the doorbell almost before he’s finished talking. 

“I’ll get it!” Someone yells, someone who sounds suspiciously like Bdubs. 

“It’s my husband!” Scar shouts. There’s the pounding of feet, a loud yell, and then a few seconds later Scar opens the door. 

“Why, hello there,” Scar says, and Grian grins at him. “You clean up nicely.” 

“Gotta look my best to meet the family,” Grian replies, as if he wasn’t there just this morning. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

Scar beams. “Thank you! And who might you two be?” 

“I’m Joel,” Joel says. “And this is Jimmy.” 

“Hello!” Jimmy gives a little wave. 

“Come on in,” Scar says, and Grian wastes no time entering. Scar shuts the door behind them. 

“Hello, hello,” Cleo says, appearing from the kitchen, with Bdubs right behind her. “These are your brothers, I take it?” 

“I’m the idiot’s older brother,” Joel says. 

“Hey!” Grian and Jimmy squawk in unison, Jimmy more out of habit than genuine offense. 

“Okay, for once, Jim, that wasn’t about you,” Joel says. Grian elbows him in annoyance. “Ow, Grian, don’t do that, you know exactly what you’ve done.” 

Cleo presses her lips together. 

“Sorry for those two,” Joel continues. Grian elbows him again, and Joel stomps on his foot in retaliation. “My name is Joel, Jimmy is the tall one, and I presume you’ve met Grian already?” 

“We’ve met,” Cleo says shortly. 

“Lovely. We brought you some bread,” Joel tells her, and promptly hands over the bag with the two loaves. “Made it ourselves. And Jim made carrot cake.” 

“Do you have some fridge space for it?” Jimmy asks, holding up the cake. “The frosting needs to chill.”

“Yes, come this way,” Cleo says, and whisks Jimmy off to the kitchen.

“So these are your brothers?” Bdubs asks. He’s looking at Joel and Grian appraisingly, like he’ll figure out what sort of person they are by their clothes. Maybe he will, because Joel’s wearing a leather jacket.

Grian totally should have made him change.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Bdubs, son of Cleo, first of his name.” 

“I’m Joel, son of…no one, I suppose,” Joel says. He pauses, then adds, “Bad boys don’t have fathers. Or mothers.” 

Grian could hit him right now. 

“I have a dad,” Bdubs tells him. “His name’s Etho; you’ll meet him later.” 

“Right, Bdubs,” Joel says. “Would you mind showing me where to, ah…” He looks around the entrance. “Should we go inside?” 

“Oh, follow me, we can sit in the kitchen,” Bdubs says, and leads Joel off into the house. Joel looks back at Grian and gives him an obnoxious wink, and then disappears. 

Grian turns to Scar. Scar’s just standing there, watching him, a slight smile on his face. 

“Hello, husband,” he says, and grins at Scar. “I brought you a present.” 

“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” Scar says. 

“I can keep it, then.” Grian shoves his hands in his pockets, and feels the ring box that’s hidden there. “It’d be a shame to waste it, though.” 

“Oh, no, I’d like my present,” Scar replies. “Hand it over, Grian.” 

Grian can’t help his smile from getting wider. 

“Say please,” Grian says, just to draw the moment out. 

“Please,” Scar says immediately. 

“Well,” he says. “My brothers reminded me that I didn’t get you a ring, so…” He pulls out the ring box and opens it. “What do you think?” 

Scar’s jaw drops and he gasps. “Grian,” he says. “It’s beautiful.” 

Grian takes the ring out of the box. “May I?” he asks, and Scar holds up his hand so Grian can slide it on his finger. 

It fits perfectly. 

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Scar says again. “How did you know my size?” 

“...I guessed,” Grian admits. “They told me we could get it resized if necessary, but…” He smiles down at the ring, satisfaction curling through him. “Looks like I knew exactly what would fit.” 

“Now I feel bad,” Scar says. “I don’t have a ring for you.” 

“That’s alright.” Grian can’t help but give the back of Scar’s hand a kiss. “When you come over to visit us, you can bring me a present.” 

Scar blinks at him. His cheeks flush prettily as he swallows. 

For a drunken one-night (one-day?) stand turned wedding, Grian really doesn’t think he could’ve picked a better husband. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I can do that.” 

Grian straightens. “Alright,” he says. “Should we go see if your mother needs any help in the kitchen?” 

“Right this way,” Scar says, and leads Grian to the kitchen. 

To Grian’s surprise, Jimmy and Joel are already seated at the counter, with Bdubs next to Joel. Cleo’s busily chopping away at some vegetables. Grian spies some zucchini and carrots. 

“Oh, hello,” Cleo says. There’s nothing but venom dripping from her voice. Grian takes the tiniest of steps back. “Nice of you to join us.” 

“He was just giving me my ring, Mom,” Scar says, looping an arm through Grian’s. Grian immediately places his hand on Scar’s elbow, even though he’s not totally certain what’s about to happen. 

From the counter, Joel meets his eyes and mouths, “Five feet apart!” 

Grian tightens his grip on Scar. That’s his husband, thank you very much. Joel rolls his eyes. 

“Look!” Scar holds up his hand, the emerald flashing in the light. “What do you think?”

Cleo does stop chopping to take a look. “It looks nice,” she says, and there’s a hint of surprised approval in her voice. 

“Let me see,” Bdubs says, and Scar holds his hand out for Bdubs to see. “Oooh! An emerald. It matches your eyes, Scar.” 

“That’s what I was thinking,” Grian tells him, and he can’t help the smugness from creeping in his voice. 

“Very nice,” Bdubs declares. “It looks great, Grian.” 

“Thank you,” Grian says. “So, ah, what are you making, Cleo?” 

“Just pasta,” Cleo replies. “Thanks for bringing over the cake; I didn’t actually have much planned by way of dessert.” 

Grian’s never heard anyone make a simple thank you sound like a threat before. 

“Tim loves baking,” Grian says. “We all do, really…the three of us run a bakery.” 

“What’s it called?” Bdubs demands. 

“It’s The Bad Boys’ Bread Bakery. We sell bread,” Joel tells him. 

“And sandwiches,” Grian says. 

“And soup in bread bowls,” Jimmy adds. “And croutons.”

“I see. Interesting name,” Cleo remarks. 

“We liked the alliteration,” Jimmy tells her. 

Cleo nods approvingly at him. Good, Grian thinks. At least she seems to like one of them. 

“What about the carrot cake?” Cleo asks. “That doesn’t start with b.” 

“Oh, we don’t sell that,” Jimmy replies. “It’s a bit of a side hobby, I suppose.” He blushes. “Tell me if it’s good, would you? Joel and Grian are a bit…tired…of trying new recipes, I suppose.” 

“We’re not; Jimmy makes great carrot cake,” Joel says. “Bad boys love carrot cake.” 

“And milk,” Jimmy chimes in, then immediately flushes. 

“And milk,” Joel agrees. 

If Grian wasn’t holding on to Scar’s arm right now, he’d facepalm. As it is, he shoots both of his brothers a glare. Jimmy has the decency to look like he’s internally dying right now. Joel doesn’t look like he regrets any of it, the bastard. 

“I see,” Cleo says, in a tone that suggests that she really doesn’t. “What else do bad boys love?” 

“Bread,” Grian says before either of his brothers can say something even stupider than what’s already been said. “Hence the bakery.” 

"Ah!" Bdubs exclaims. "That makes perfect sense."

"I should have guessed," Cleo says drily. 

“That sounds wonderful,” Scar says a few moments later, just as the silence was starting to become prominent. “You know, I’m so glad that you could all join us for dinner.” 

“Me too!” Bdubs sits up a little straighter. “We don’t have guests very often!” 

“Alright, alright,” Cleo says. “Does anyone want anything to drink?” 

Water sounds very nice right now, but Grian’s not about to ask for any. Joel apparently has no such qualms and asks for water–maybe Grian can swipe some of his–and Bdubs enthusiastically requests juice. 

“Anyone else?” Cleo asks. She looks at Jimmy. “Do you want some milk?” 

Jimmy turns even redder. “Um,” he says. “Well. If you have some.” 

“I’ll have some too,” Joel decides, and passes his glass over to Grian. Grian takes back every unkind thought he’s had about him tonight; Joel is the best. “Don’t worry about the water, Cleo, Grian can finish it.” 

“Right,” Cleo says in the sort of tone that makes it clear that she doesn’t believe that at all.

“Normally he cleans up after us, so we’re all a bit shocked that Grian’s gone and done this,” Joel says, and Cleo snorts. Grian rescinds his earlier thought–he is going to kill Joel. Painfully. The only thing preventing him from doing that is that Scar’s hand is currently covering his own–and when did that happen, anyways–and it’s very warm and very comforting against Grian’s skin. 

The ring really does look good on Scar’s finger. Grian’s delighted with his choice. 

“Right, Grian’s usually the responsible one,” Jimmy adds. 

“It wasn’t a lapse in judgment,” Grian snaps. “I’m in it for as long as Scar is. That’s what marriage is all about.” 

Everyone turns to look at Scar. 

“What he said,” Scar says. “And Grian’s been an excellent husband, if you must know.” He chuckles a little. “In fact, I feel like I should be doing better.”

“You’re doing wonderful,” Grian assures him. “Seriously. There’s no one else I’d rather be married to.” 

“Thank you, husband.” 

“I should be the one thanking you,” Grian replies. 

“That’s sweet of you to say.” Scar’s smiling down at him, and Grian’s heart flutters. “As you can see, we’re both very happy together.” 

Cleo sighs. “As long as you’re happy, Scar,” she says tiredly. “But, honestly. What happened to going on a date first?” 

“I’m just worried that Tim will get ideas from this,” Joel adds, shaking his head. “What if he also decides to get married to a stranger? Grian, this is all your fault.” 

“I wouldn’t? Do that? I think?” Jimmy frowns and stares at his milk. “Would I?”

“Scar could’ve said no! We are equally culpable in this situation!” Grian shrieks. 

He is, of course, ignored. 

“A terrible influence on the younger generation,” Cleo says, which doesn’t even make sense, because Grian and Jimmy are only a few years apart. “Bdubs. If you even think about marrying the first man who proposes to you, I will ground you for life.” 

“I will not do that,” Bdubs swears. He places one hand over his heart and raises the other one in the air like he’s being sworn in. “Never in a million years.” 

“Good.” Cleo picks up her knife and aggressively starts chopping the vegetables again. “Well then, I guess we should–” 

She’s cut off by the doorbell ringing. 

“Dad’s here!” Bdubs exclaims, and leaps out of his seat. “I’ll get it!” He races to the door. “Dad! Mom wants to replace me with Scar’s husband’s brothers!” 

“Scar’s what?” a deep voice asks. 

“I do NOT!” Cleo shouts. “Bdubs, we love you!” 

In a quieter voice, she adds, “Where did he even get that idea from?”

“You know how Bdubs is,” Scar says. 

“I’m sorry,” says the white-haired man following Bdubs back into the kitchen. A mask covers half of his face, but Grian can see a scar over one eye. “I think I misheard something. Did Bdubs say Scar’s husband?” 

“Hello, Dad,” Scar says. “This is my husband, Grian. Grian, this is my dad, Etho.” 

“Hello sir,” Grian says politely, and sticks out his hand. Etho shakes it. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“You’re late,” Cleo informs him. 

“Hello, Cleo, it’s good to see you too, Cleo,” Etho says. He glances at Cleo, who ignores him, then turns back to Grian and Scar. “So, ah…when did this happen?” 

“If you were home more,” Cleo snaps, not looking up, “Maybe you’d know these things about your children, Etho.” 

“Woah, woah, hold on, Cleo,” says Etho. “When was the wedding?” 

“Last night,” Scar tells him. 

“It was a bit of an impulsive decision,” Grian adds. 

“They had sex before getting married,” Bdubs declares. 

“Let’s not talk about my sex life,” Scar says. Grian silently agrees with him. 

“Son–” Etho pauses, thinks over what he was going to say, and then shakes his head. “Never mind. So how long has this been going on?” 

“Since last night,” Scar says. “Grian proposed, by the way.” 

“I…see.” Etho looks around the room and finally seems to register that there’s two other additions. “And who might you two be?” 

“Well hello Etho,” Joel says, resting his chin on his hand and giving Etho a look that Grian does not like. “I’m Joel, Grian’s older brother.” 

“And I’m Jimmy,” Jimmy pipes up from behind his milk glass. 

“Nice to meet you both, I’m Etho.” He turns back to Scar and Grian. “Son. Let me get this straight. You two met last night and got married immediately?” 

“That would be correct,” Grian replies.

“Then you can’t blame me for not knowing, Cleo,” Etho says, a triumphant note to his voice. He crosses his arms over his chest. “It seems to me that this was all rather sudden.” 

“Sometimes you just know,” Grian says. It must be the hundredth time he’s said that today. He really has to figure out a better defense. 

There almost certainly isn’t one, but he’ll come up with something anyways. 

“And we’re very happy together,” Scar adds. “Look at the ring he got me!” 

He holds out his hand, and Etho admires the ring. “It’s very nice,” he says. “Matches your eyes.”

“That’s what I said!” Bdubs shouts. 

“Good choice,” Etho says, and gives Grian a nod. 

“And you’re not concerned about this at all,” Cleo says. “Right. Of course you’re not.” 

“Well, I don’t control Scar,” Etho says. “Scar’s allowed to do whatever he wants. He’s an adult.” 

“And Grian is usually very responsible,” Joel adds. 

“Vouch,” Jimmy says. 

“I’m sure they’ll have a very happy relationship,” Etho says, like this solves the matter entirely. Maybe it does. Regardless, Grian’s starting to see the issue between Scar’s parents. He should ask Scar if he’s certain that he doesn’t know a divorce lawyer. “Congratulations on your marriage, Scar.” 

“Thanks, Dad,” Scar says. 

Grian decides not to say anything. 

“That is just like you,” Cleo mutters, angrily chopping vegetables. The knife thunks loudly against the cutting board. “Of course you would say that.” 

“Come on, Cleo,” Etho says. “We have guests, there’s no need to get into this right now, is there?” 

“Right, right, of course,” Cleo says. Her voice is even more poisonous than when she was telling Grian off for marrying Scar. “Whatever you say.” 

The knife slams loudly against the chopping block in the ensuing silence. 

“So, Etho!” Joel jumps to save the conversation. “Tell me–” He stops and clears his throat. “Tell us a little bit about yourself!” 

“Uh.” Etho looks around the room. “Well, I, uh–” 

“He works with redstone and explosives!” Bdubs declares. “And he’s really helped revolutionize the engineering world.” 

“Cool,” Joel says. “That’s really cool, actually.” 

“It’s a lot of fun,” Etho says. “I like that kind of stuff.” 

“None of us got his engineering skills,” Bdubs says. “He’s the best out of us.” 

“I’m not much of an engineer either,” Joel says. “I’m more of a baker, I guess.” 

“Oh, are you?” Etho asks. 

“The three of us have a bakery!” Jimmy says proudly.

“Oh, do you?” Etho asks. “What’s it called?” 

“The Bad Boys’ Bread Bakery,” Joel says. “You should come by! We do have a family discount, and since Grian’s married…” He trails off and gives Etho a look. 

“Since when do we have a family discount,” Jimmy mouths to Grian. Grian just shrugs back. 

It’s not like any of them have any family. 

“Maybe,” Etho says. “That sounds nice. I don’t think I’ve ever been there before.” 

“They brought some bread over, so we’ll all get to try it,” Cleo says loudly from her spot by the stove. She’s moved on from aggressively chopping vegetables, and is stirring something in a pot. The chopped vegetables, maybe. Grian doesn’t fully know what she’s making. 

“Should be exciting,” Etho says. “So, uh…anything else I should know? Anything interesting happen, besides Scar’s marriage?” 

“Oh yeah, Dad, I wanted to show you something,” Bdubs says, and hops off the stool. “Follow me!” He and Etho disappear from the kitchen, leaving Cleo, Scar, Jimmy, Joel, and Grian behind. 

“So that’s your dad?” Grian asks Scar, careful to keep his voice low. 

“Yup,” Scar replies. “He’s…well, he means well. Sometimes.”

There’s an odd note in his voice. 

“I see,” Grian murmurs, and lifts his free hand to pat Scar’s.  

Jimmy clears his throat. “Cleo,” he says, “Would you like any help? Joel and I are just sitting here, and…and I feel bad!” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Cleo tells him. “The pasta’s almost ready, and I prepared the salad ahead of time. But thanks for offering.” 

“It smells good, Mom,” Scar says. 

“It does,” Grian adds. He’s still holding onto Scar. Should he let go of him? How long is appropriate to hold onto your husband’s arm? 

Joel mouths, “five feet apart” again. Grian scowls. That answers that question, at least. 

He’s not letting go of Scar. Scar’s his husband! He’s not standing five feet apart!   

“Although, Scar, if you could set the table for me, that would be lovely,” Cleo says pointedly. 

“On it,” Scar says, and extracts his arm from Grian’s grasp. Grian reluctantly makes his way to Bdub’s abandoned stool, and sits next to Joel. 

“What do you think?” he whispers. 

“I like Cleo,” Jimmy whispers. “She’s nice. Scary, but nice.” 

Grian glares at him. 

“About Scar, idiot,” he whispers.

“Oh, he’s nice too. I like him.” 

“Scar’s really not bad,” Joel adds. “You could have married an actual psychopath. I actually think his weirdness somehow compliments yours.” 

“I don’t know if I just got insulted or not,” Grian mutters. 

“You did,” Joel whispers. 

“Scar does seem cool,” Jimmy adds. “Not cool enough to marry after knowing him for less than an hour, but yeah. Cool guy. You could’ve done a lot worse.” 

Grian scowls. “You’re the worst,” he hisses. “Both of you. I’m never inviting you to family dinner again.” 

“I think that’s Cleo’s decision,” Jimmy says lightly, and Joel snickers. 

Grian wants to throttle them. He settles for kicking them instead. 

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Cleo says. “Scar, could you get Bdubs and your father?” She looks over at Grian and his brothers. “Do you want anything else to drink?” 

“We’re fine,” Joel says. “Thank you for cooking.” 

Cleo turns back to the pot. “You can go sit down whenever you’re ready.” 

The three of them make their way to the dining table. Bdubs and Etho are there as well, Bdubs already sitting next to Etho. Scar makes it a point to sit next to Grian, even going as far as pulling out his chair for him. Grian sits down, feeling pleased and a little bit flustered as he does. 

To Grian’s dismay, Cleo ends up on his other side. 

He silently curses Scar for his predicament. 

“So what’s for dinner, Cleo?” Etho asks. 

“Pasta,” Cleo says shortly. “And Jimmy brought over carrot cake for dessert.” 

“And bread, courtesy of the Bad Boys Bread Bakery,” Bdubs says cheerfully. “This looks amazing! Thanks, Mom.” 

Cleo smiles briefly for the first time that night. “Dig in,” she tells everyone. 

Bdubs grabs a piece of bread and takes a bite. “It’s delicious,” he proclaims. 

“Thanks, Bdubs,” Joel says. 

The dishes get passed around in relative silence, and the table is relatively peaceful as everyone digs in to eat. 

“This is excellent,” Jimmy tells Cleo. 

“Thanks, Jimmy,” Cleo says. Grian thinks he gets why Jimmy likes Cleo, even though Cleo’s probably going to kill him the moment his back is turned. Traitor. 

“Yeah, Mom, you outdid yourself,” Scar adds. 

“Thanks, Cleo,” Etho says. 

“Okay, thank you, glad you’re all enjoying yourselves,” Cleo says shortly. 

It’s awkwardly silent once again. Grian twirls some of the pasta around his fork. 

“So is there going to be an official reception at some point?” Bdubs asks. “Because I feel like we should celebrate your marriage, Scar.” 

“We might,” Scar says. “Might not. What do you think, Grian?” 

“Well,” Grian says slowly. He looks around the table. “I suppose this counts, doesn’t it? My family and yours, having dinner together for the first time. Is this not a cause for celebration?” 

“Well said,” Bdubs says. 

“I’ll get him to do a reception,” Joel says, although it looks like he’s talking to Etho more than anyone else. “We should have a proper celebration.” 

“Guess we’re having a party at some point,” Grian says. “Scar, we should put together a registry later.” 

“Sure thing,” Scar says cheerfully. “We can get…what do people put on registries?” 

“Household supplies, usually,” Cleo says flatly. 

“So what inspired this spontaneous marriage?” Etho asks. “Were you just like, ‘hey, you know what would be funny’ and then you went and did it?” 

“It was a little more romantic than that,” Grian says. “We both agreed that the other was husband material, and got married. But I would say that Scar and I are getting along fantastically. I can’t say that I regret it.” 

“I see, I see.” Etho nods along, like Grian’s making perfect sense right now. 

“But marriage?” Cleo asks. “I mean, honestly, most people tend to be engaged for a few months before getting married. You could have at least gotten married in the morning.” 

“Well,” Grian says. She does have a point. “What if we…forgot?” he asks. 

“To get married?” Cleo asks. 

“Yeah.” Grian nods. Never mind that he and Scar have forgotten most of the wedding itself. Grian honestly wishes he had thought to take photos so he could remember like half of the wedding, but apparently his drunk self hadn’t even done that. All he has is a marriage certificate and a few hazy memories. If they had waited for the morning, he would at least remember the event. 

But that’s not going to stop him. 

“You know, some relationships don’t even make it to the wedding. They get engaged and then they never get married. What if that had happened to us? We couldn’t risk it.” Grian puts on his most solemn expression. “You understand where we were coming from, right?” 

“What he said,” Scar adds. 

Joel is looking at Grian like he’s the biggest idiot he’s ever seen. Grian wishes he could kick him, but he’s definitely too far away. He tries anyway. 

His foot misses, and he kicks at the air. 

On the other hand, Jimmy looks mildly impressed. At least one of his brothers supports him. 

“Of course,” Cleo says. “I suppose I just don’t…understand?” 

“They found love, Cleo,” Etho says. “And they wanted to capitalize on it. Personally, I think that’s beautiful.” 

“Because you know so much about love,” Cleo retorts. 

“And what makes you so knowledgeable?” Etho asks. 

Cleo inhales sharply. 

“Mom,” Scar says, before Cleo can actually say anything. “Mom, what did you think of Grian’s bread?” 

It is one of the most obvious attempts at a subject change that Grian’s ever heard. 

To his surprise, though, Cleo takes it. She inhales deeply, then exhales, and says, “It’s nice. Thank you for bringing it over.”

“No problem,” Grian says. 

“We always have fresh bread around,” Joel adds. “So it was nothing, really.” 

“I’m glad you like it,” Jimmy says. 

“It is good!” Bdubs says. “You should bring some more when you visit us next time.”

“Oh, are we invited to future family dinners?” Jimmy asks. 

“Well, I don’t see why not,” Bdubs says. “After all, Grian and Scar are married now.” 

“Well, only if it’s alright with your mom. I’d hate to impose.” Joel, for some reason, gives Etho a smile when he says this. 

“Only if you’d like,” Cleo says politely. “I’m sure you have other things to worry about, and it must be busy, running a bakery.” 

“We’re closed today,” Jimmy tells her. 

“...convenient,” Cleo replies, in the sort of voice that tells Grian just how inconvenient that is.  

Silence settles over the table once again. Grian twirls more pasta around his fork. The silence is just as painfully awkward as it was the first time. 

Cleo takes a breath and looks around the table. “Does anyone need any more food?” 

The dishes get passed around once more, and everyone resumes eating. No one bothers to say anything, and more silence settles over the table. It seems to be the running theme for the night. 

“This is nice,” Etho says eventually. 

“It is, isn’t it,” Bdubs agrees. 

“It is nice. Thank you for having us, Cleo,” Jimmy says. 

Grian hates to admit it, but he’s starting to see why Cleo might like Jimmy the best. He and Joel really did raise Jimmy right. 

It’s quiet once again, but Grian’s starting to get used to the silences. Even so, he decides to make a list of potential conversation topics for the next time he comes over. 

“Does anyone want more food?” Cleo asks a few minutes later. 

This time, there’s a chorus of no’s and a few scattered thank you’s. Grian makes sure to say his own thanks. 

“Well, Jimmy brought over cake,” Cleo says, “So I’ll clear the table and then we can try it.” She stands up and starts removing plates. Grian stacks his and Scar’s plates and cutlery to make it easier for her. Cleo doesn’t spare him a glance as she takes the stack. 

“What kind of cake is it?” Etho asks. 

“It’s car–” Jimmy starts, but Joel cuts him off.

“Carrot cake,” Joel says, leaning just a bit closer to Etho. “Jim makes excellent carrot cake, I promise.” 

“I see,” Etho says. He laughs a little. “Should be good, then.” 

“I’ve been looking forward to it!” Bdubs says. 

“Bdubs, come here and help me serve the cake,” Cleo calls. 

“Oh, Mom, I can–” Scar starts to move, but Bdubs bolts out of his seat. 

“Coming!” Bdubs shouts. Scar stares at the space where Bdubs was, then settles back down. 

Grian places his hand on Scar’s. 

“Normally he’s not as helpful,” Scar says softly. 

“Well, we’re celebrating your marriage,” Grian replies. “Even if it’s a little less celebratory than one might expect.” 

“It’s your marriage too,” Scar reminds him. 

Grian smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “I suppose it is.” 

“Okay, cake for the newlyweds first,” Bdubs declares, causing Grian to drop Scar’s hand. He places a plate in front of Scar, then one in front of Grian, before disappearing back into the kitchen. 

Eventually, the cake is distributed, and Cleo and Bdubs sit back down. 

“Well?” Cleo says when no one moves. “Eat up.” 

“And tell me what you think,” Jimmy adds. 

“It’s very good,” Scar says. “Thank you for making it.” 

“Yeah, Tim, maybe you should make more cakes,” Grian adds. 

“Nah, I couldn’t,” Jimmy says, but the tips of his ears are turning red in the way they always do when he’s pleased. Good, Grian thinks. As long as dessert doesn’t turn into a complete mess, they can all make it out of this family dinner alive. 

“It is very good, Jimmy,” Cleo says, and she even gives Jimmy a small smile as she says it. Which, unfair, Grian’s the one who married in! Jimmy might be polite and he’s the only one winning Cleo over but Grian’s the son-in-law! 

Maybe he should be more like Jimmy. 

Grian frowns to himself. He’ll just deal with Cleo’s dislike. 

“It is good,” Etho says. “Better than anything Cleo’s ever baked.” 

Grian closes his eyes and wishes for death. Beside him, Scar inhales sharply. 

“I’m not a baker,” Cleo says coolly before anyone else can say anything. “It’s never been one of my skills.” 

“Right, right.” To Grian’s surprise, Etho doesn’t say anything else. 

“This has been nice, hasn’t it?” Scar says. “You know, I really feel that this is the start of something wonderful.” 

Grian glances at Scar. Scar’s sitting up a bit straighter, and he’s smiling, but it’s not the loose and easy one that Grian saw last night. This one looks strained at the edges.

Is it weird that Grian is already categorizing Scar’s facial expressions? Maybe a little.

“We’ve all had a lovely time tonight, haven’t we? Two families, coming together when they otherwise might not have met,” Scar continues. “All under the name of love.”

Grian reaches out and takes Scar’s hand. Scar gives him a pleased smile.

“Isn’t that what family is all about?” Scar finishes.

“That was beautiful, Scar,” Jimmy says. He even claps. Grian kicks him, and he stops. “Truly.”

“It was,” Etho agrees. “Like I said, son, I’m glad you’ve found love.”

“As long as you’re happy,” Cleo says. “I just…I want you to be happy, Scar.”

“And Grian makes me happy,” Scar says earnestly.

Cleo opens her mouth, then closes it. She takes a small bite of cake and chews it thoughtfully.

Grian holds his breath.

“If you weren’t happy, Scar,” she says quietly, “You could’ve said something.”

“It’s not that,” Scar protests. Grian looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “Mom, it’s not that at all.”

“It’s just that you married this tiny man after not even one night of knowing him,” Cleo says. “All because he asked.”

“Hey,” Grian protests, feeling very offended at being called a “tiny man”, but Cleo ignores him.

“I just don’t get it, Scar,” she says. “I really, really don’t.” 

“Leave him alone,” Etho cuts in suddenly. “He’s an adult, Cleo. He can make his own decisions.”

“Yeah!” Bdubs cheers.

“Oh, so now you want to parent them?” Cleo snaps, head whipping from Scar to give Etho the most poisonous glare Grian’s ever seen. “Now? After Scar’s married? You’re right, Etho, Scar’s an adult now.”

“And he can make his own decisions,” Etho says slowly. “Can’t he, Cleo?”

“Bold words coming from you,” Cleo snaps. 

“I just think that Scar can make his own decisions, and he doesn’t need us questioning them all the time!” Etho replies, holding his hands up placatingly. “It’s only a big deal if we make it one!”  

“Since when do you think that?” Cleo demands. 

“Mom–” Scar tries. 

“No, tell me Etho, since when?” 

Etho flushes, but he doesn’t back down. “Look, Scar’s married now; he doesn’t need us to come questioning his decisions! Clearly he’s made up his mind!” 

“That’s never been your stance! You’ve always said that I should control him more.” 

“...Mom's right,” Bdubs says, a bit quieter this time. 

“Quiet, Bdubs. Clearly that’s not working,” Etho says. “Because now Scar’s gone and married the first person he meets. So you know what? If he’s happy, then that’s all that matters. He can do what he likes; he doesn’t need me.” 

“Need you?” Cleo asks. “Need you? Oh, that’s rich, coming from you, Etho. You haven’t been around! Need you? When he needed you, you weren’t there! All these damn years, and you haven’t been around once. And now you want to step in?” 

“I–” 

“You haven’t done a single damn thing for them! Scar OR Bdubs!” Cleo screams. “You just come in and out whenever you please, and we’re left to pick up the pieces!”  

“Okay, that’s enough!” Scar stands up, pushing his chair back with a loud screech. “I’m right here, and I don’t appreciate being talked about like I’m not. I married Grian of my own volition, and contrary to popular belief, I did put some thought into it, so! I don’t know where I was going with this.” He takes a breath. “I need some air. Excuse me.” 

Grian watches Scar leave. 

No one says anything once he’s gone. 

“I’ll talk to him,” he says after the silence has gotten too loud. “I…did drag him into this mess. I proposed.” 

He stands up. No one says anything as he makes his way out. 

“Second door on the right,” Cleo says suddenly. Grian stops and looks at her. Her lips are thinned, but she’s looking at Grian with an expression that isn’t anger for the first time tonight. It feels like a step in the right direction. 

“Knock first. Jellie doesn’t like visitors,” Cleo adds.  

Jellie, Grian thinks. Who is Jellie? 

“Thanks,” he says instead, because he might not have any parents but Joel taught him manners, and he even gives Cleo a short nod before striding off to find Scar’s room. 

Scar’s bedroom door is shut when Grian reaches it. He doesn’t knock right away, choosing instead to take a few breaths and try and figure out what he wants to say. 

Maybe apologize for not trying to put a stop to it sooner? Or maybe apologize for suggesting marriage in the first place? 

He sighs. What a mess they’ve gotten themselves into. Marriage had seemed much funnier this morning, when they were hungover and eating greasy breakfast food. 

He raises his hand, and knocks. 

“Mom, it’s fine, I’m fine,” Scar calls. 

“Not your mom, actually,” Grian replies. “Mind if I come in?” 

There’s a short pause, and then Scar says, “Yeah. Come in.” 

Grian pushes open the door and pokes his head in. Scar’s sitting by the window, staring out at the pink sky. 

“Cleo said something about a Jellie?” he asks, shutting the door gently behind him. 

“She’s my cat,” Scar says. He tilts his head towards the bed. “She’s under there. She’s not a big fan of strangers.” 

“Hi, Jellie,” Grian says, and bends down to see if he can spot Jellie. “I might have married your human last night. Is that alright with you?” 

Against all odds, Scar chuckles. “If Jellie likes you,” he says, “Then we stay married. But if not, then we’re getting a divorce.” 

“I can live with that,” Grian says. He can see Jellie’s eyes, and holds out his hand in case she wants to sniff. “Cats always know.”

“Do you have any pets?” Scar asks. 

“No.” Grian shrugs. “I’ve always wanted a cat, though.” He pauses, then adds, “I’d name her Pearl.” 

Jellie comes over to sniff at Grian’s hand.

“Nice.” Scar nods. “A good name for a cat. Not as good as Jellie, but very nice.” 

“It’s for my sister,” Grian tells him. “She, ah…” He hesitates for a moment, then decides to share the reason. He’s already seen the messy inner workings of Scar’s family; Scar deserves a little vulnerability from him in return. 

“I don’t know what happened to her,” he confesses. “We got separated, and I…I’ve been looking for her ever since.” 

“I’m sorry,” Scar says sincerely. “That’s awful.” 

“It’s okay.” Grian sighs. “I’ve come to terms with it. Mostly. Her birthday was yesterday, actually.” He watches as Scar’s eyes widen with the realization. “Shortly after we got separated, I met Joel and Jimmy, and it’s been the three of us ever since.” 

“Are you three not related, then?” 

“Not by blood,” Grian tells him. 

“I see,” Scar says. “You seemed so close; I never would have guessed.” 

“We only have each other,” Grian confesses. 

Scar’s quiet for a moment, expression thoughtful before he says, “Well, now you have me.” 

“Now I have you,” Grian agrees. “By the way, I think we’ve been married for about twenty-four hours. How’s married life treating you?” 

“Well, I have a wonderful husband,” Scar says. “Look at the ring he got me.” He holds up his hand, showing off the ring once again, and it startles a laugh out of Grian. Scar laughs along with him. 

It’s comforting, hearing Scar laugh. Grian decides that he’ll have to make Scar laugh more often. 

“Thanks for coming tonight,” Scar says softly. “I’m sorry that it was so…so awful.” 

“It’s okay, Scar,” Grian replies. “We made it out, didn’t we?” 

“I guess.” Scar sighs. “I hoped that they’d get along, but…” He trails off.

“Your parents really don’t like each other, do they,” Grian says. “It’s…well, it’s fine. I don’t exactly have a reference point for what’s normal. Joel and I raised Tim more than any of the other adults in our lives, I think.” 

“They really care about you,” Scar says. 

“Your family cares about you too,” Grian replies, then winces as he recalls the dinner conversation. “Well. They seem like they do.” 

“Mom does,” Scar corrects. “Etho…Dad’s never really cared about me.” He laughs bitterly. “He loves Bdubs, though. It’s why he keeps coming back.” 

“Ah.” That explains a lot, Grian thinks. “That sucks.”

“Yeah.” Scar sighs. “Nothing I can do about that.” He pauses, then adds, “It might have been okay if Etho never showed up.” 

“Maybe we don’t invite him next time.” 

Scar shrugs. “I’ve been telling Mom to stop letting him in, but…Bdubs. Again. He loves him.” 

Grian genuinely doesn’t know what to say to that. He pats Scar’s shoulder instead. 

Silence settles over them. Grian doesn’t really mind; he’s beginning to find that he really enjoys Scar’s presence, regardless of what they’re doing. 

“Oh, I have something for you,” Scar says suddenly. “It’s kind of silly, but–”

“Give it,” Grian says, and makes grabby hands at Scar. “I want my present.” 

“Give me your hand?” Scar asks. 

Grian holds it out. Scar pulls out a marker, grabs Grian’s ring finger, and clumsily draws a line around the base. 

“It’s the best I could do on short notice,” he says apologetically. “Next time I see you, though, I promise to have a real ring.” 

Grian holds up his hand to look at the marker line on his finger. 

“It’s perfect,” he decides. “I’ll never wash it off.” 

“I’ll draw it back on when it fades,” Scar vows. 

It’s one of the most romantic things Grian’s ever heard in his life. He pulls Scar down for a kiss.  

“Come over for dinner tomorrow,” he says once they’ve stopped kissing. Scar’s face is still close to his, though, and Grian can feel his breath on his face. “I’ll text you the address. We’ll have more bread.” 

Scar smiles at him. “So I have to get you a real ring by tomorrow?”

“I got you one in a day,” Grian reminds him. “And you better pick out a good one! Or I’m getting this marriage annulled.” 

“It’ll be the best ring you’ve ever seen,” Scar promises. 

Grian’s half in love with this man already. He kisses Scar again. 

The two of them eventually leave Scar’s room, hand in hand. Cleo and Jimmy are in the kitchen, and Grian’s privately glad that one of his brothers is helping Cleo. There’s no sign of Joel, Etho, or Bdubs, however. 

“Where’s Dad?” Scar asks. 

“Backyard,” Cleo says. She doesn’t look up from the sink, where she’s vigorously washing dishes. “Joel asked about something, and Etho went to go show him.” 

“Ah.” 

Jimmy looks around the room nervously. “Well,” he says slowly, “Grian, we should probably get going, but, ah, I’ll go collect Joel. Thanks for dinner, Cleo.” 

“Thanks for your help, Jimmy,” Cleo replies. 

And then Jimmy leaves, leaving Cleo, Scar, and Grian alone in the kitchen. 

It’s silent. 

Again. 

Grian involuntarily squeezes Scar’s hand. He doesn’t realize he’s done it until Scar squeezes back. 

“Thank you for having us,” Grian says slowly. 

Cleo’s staring at the sink like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever seen. 

“It was…great meeting you,” Grian adds. 

“I owe you an apology,” Cleo says suddenly. She looks up from the sink. “Both of you.” 

“Mom, it’s fi–”

Cleo holds up a soapy hand, and Scar shuts up. Grian waits for Cleo to figure out her next words. 

“It’s not fine, Scar,” she says. “Look. I can’t say that I…approve, necessarily, but.” She brushes a strand of her hair out of her eyes. “What’s done is done. You two are adults; you both went into this willingly.” 

Grian nods. 

“I don’t get it,” Cleo says bluntly. “Probably won’t ever get it, Scar, if we’re being honest. But if you don’t want to get divorced, then that’s fine. It’s your decision.” 

“Are you sure?” Scar asks. 

“Scar,” Cleo says. “When have you ever done anything that you didn’t want to?” She shakes her head. “As long as you’re happy, alright?”

“I am,” Scar says earnestly. “I know it hasn’t been for very long, but I couldn’t have picked a better person to marry.” 

“Then that’s all I can ask for, I guess,” Cleo says. 

“Mom,” Scar says, although it sounds more like a sob. “Are…are you sure?”

“Scar,” Cleo says gently. “You’ll be fine. I believe in you.” 

It’s a sweet moment, Grian thinks, but he’s definitely starting to feel like an intruder. He’s about to sneak out of the room when Cleo turns towards him. Her face has smoothed into neutrality.

“Sorry that dinner didn’t turn out very well,” she says. “Etho and I…do not get along. It was nice meeting you, though. Truly.” 

Grian can’t help himself–he smiles. “It’s fine,” he replies. “Would you mind it terribly if we came back next week?” 

Cleo smiles back. Her eyes and nose crinkle up the same way that Scar's does, Grian realizes.

“If you’re free,” she says. “And please bring more bread. It was very good.” 

After he and Scar say their good-byes, Grian climbs into the car and shuts the passenger door. His brothers are already in the car, and Grian’s still trying to put on his seatbelt when Joel starts driving. 

“Well!” he says brightly, as Joel speeds away from Cleo’s house. “That went well!” 

It did not. It was a disaster, although part of that is because he’s apparently married into one of the most dysfunctional families he’s ever seen. 

Even so, maybe it’ll be okay. 

Scar, at least, was nice. Grian smiles happily to himself. If he wasn’t already married, he’d be planning the wedding right now. 

Maybe they should renew their vows at some point. They could have a proper party and invite all their friends. 

That’s an excellent idea, actually. Grian’s already planning it. 

“They liked my carrot cake, at least,” Jimmy says. 

“We should add it as a seasonal item,” Grian tells him. “You outdid yourself, Jim, really.” 

“Yeah, the cake was excellent,” Joel says, in the sort of voice that says he has other things on his mind. Grian braces himself for the worst. “So. Disastrous dinner aside–which wasn’t our fault, by the way, they started it–I have a serious question for you two.”

“Do I want to know where this is going?” Grian asks warily. 

“Out with it,” Jimmy orders. 

“Do you guys think that Etho would be into, like, a May-December romance?” Joel asks.

“I’m sorry,” Grian says, staring in horror at his brother. Joel doesn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed. Behind him, in the backseat, Jimmy chokes. “What did you just say?” 

Joel doesn’t even hesitate; that’s how shameless he is. “Do you think that Etho–” 

“That’s Scar’s dad,” Jimmy interrupts, sounding completely horrified. 

“I am well aware of that,” Joel replies, and Grian shrieks. Jimmy shrieks with him. “But listen! Listen! I just really think we’d hit it off, you know? I think there could be something.” 

“Joel! That is my father-in-law!” Grian yells. 

“So? He’s hot,” Joel says, very matter-of-fact. A little too matter-of-fact, in Grian’s opinion. “Do you think he’d be okay with it?” 

“Again! That is my father-in-law!” Grian screams. 

“Wait,” Jimmy says. “If you’re married to Scar…and Joel wants to marry Etho…does that mean that I have to marry Bdubs?” 

“No, Tim,” Joel and Grian say in unison. 

“It’d be weird, since I’m married to Scar,” Grian finishes, while Joel says, “It’d be weird, since I’m going to marry Etho.” 

“Oh, good,” Jimmy says. “Now, please leave me out of the rest of this conversation.” 

“Joel! For the last time, you cannot marry Etho! That’s my father-in-law!” Grian yells, and smacks him. Joel smacks him right back. It devolves into a slap fight pretty quickly.

“Jimmy, we can’t have all three of us marry into the family,” Joel says, still smacking Grian. “That’d be weird.” 

“We can’t have TWO of us marry into the family,” Grian retorts, smacking Joel back. “Joel, I forbid you!” 

“Etho’s hot!” Joel cries. “Have you seen him?” 

“He’s a deadbeat dad,” Jimmy says despairingly. 

“I’ve never had any sort of father,” Joel replies. 

“Do you have a daddy kink?” Grian demands. “Is that what this is?” 

Joel’s silent for too long. 

“No,” he says eventually, in the least convincing tone of voice Grian’s ever heard. 

“Oh my gosh,” Jimmy says, as Grian opens his mouth to scream. Again. “Oh my gosh, he does! That’s it, I’m walking home.” 

“Absolutely not!” Joel shrieks. “The last time I left one of you unattended, Grian went and got married. If I let you walk home, you’ll figure out how to come home with two husbands and a boyfriend!” 

“And I’d do it again!” Grian shrieks over Jimmy’s protests. He touches the pen line on his ring finger and smiles.

“Scar’s never going to be a mistake.”