Jensen didn't let Jared carry him over the threshold, but it was a hotel room, so it didn't count, right? Jared wasn't sure. There were books on this sort of thing, thirty odd pages of them on Amazon.com, but none that really captured the essence of their situation.

Marrying Your (Gay) Costar for Dummies.

Someone should write that. It was too late to help them, but one of these days, Mike and Tom were going to come out, and Jared owed the both of them for posting bail after the Stag Night.

He owed Chris even more for scaring them both into silence and saving him from Jensen's wrath.

Jensen hadn't been a good blushing bride. He'd blushed alright, but then he did that every time he dropped his pants in wardrobe, and he'd pulled off the whole 'too pretty to be true' bridal ideal with far too little effort. But there had been no threshold carrying, and Jared had been raised on Disney, thank you very much. There was always threshold carrying.

So no threshold carrying, no throwing flowers and absolutely no removing of garters (or anything else for that matter) in front of the parents. The bed they were in wasn't theirs, and at that very moment in time, Jensen had his eyes closed.

Overall, it added up to make the best day of Jared's life ever.

The sheets were cool and damp where they bunched under Jared's hip. The stark white fabric made Jensen's skin glow in the synthetic candlelight, and if one of them didn't make a move for the shower it was possible that they would spend the rest of their lives smelling like sex.

Jared had no problem with that whatsoever.

They were neither of them virgins, they hadn't been close even before they started dating, but their bodies were stained and sticky with come, and in lieu of the wide-eyed trembling bride, Jared had Jensen. They didn't have new, they had special. Jensen knew every inch of him and knew how to worship each spot. He knew how Jared liked to make love -not fuck, not tonight, and he knew that neither of them would be sleeping any time soon.

Warm breath rushed through Jensen's parted lips. Jared watched, fascinated, as the gold band of his wedding ring pressed flush against the stretched entrance to Jensen's ass.

Jared had had him twice already that night, and he intended to start their official life together as he planned to carry on. Jensen was his now, on paper, by law, and in the eyes of a God Jared had been told would never accept them. He was Jared's to protect and to keep, to care for and to cherish, and to make love to as many times in one night as the laws of nature allowed.

The gold band easily passed the ring of muscle, Jared's palm flush against skin, spreading buttocks and leaving Jensen wide open for him to see. Jensen whimpered softly, his head rose up from the pillow high enough for Jared to see every emotion on his face.

I love you.

This was them. This was theirs. Tomorrow would be Day One of the rest of their lives, and the whole damn world knew about them. They could walk hand in hand down the street, and he could smirk and know that his husband was a hundred times prettier than any wife out there. They had (one would hope) decades of life left to enjoy, piss off, and love one another. Decades of Jensen's coffee addiction and Jared's ability to monopolize the bed without even trying, and Jared couldn't wait.

Propping himself up on one elbow he asked, "you wanna go again?"

Jensen rolled his eyes. "I ain't even gonna dignify that with an answer."

Jared grinned, placed his hand on Jensen's hip, and rolled them back down into the sheets once more.

END