by Clancy Nacht
She giggled, and Sloan laughed, low and throaty, before turning to look at Upton, sharing the amusement with him.
“How drunk is too drunk, Upton? At what point do they turn you away from your flight?” Sloan grinned and leaned over to kiss his cheek as if on impulse.
Upton leaned into the kiss and nuzzled Sloan in return. “She’ll be fine, though I’ve heard that being hungover on a long flight is about as close to actual hell as mortals have managed to create.”
As someone who didn’t regularly drink, Upton was a little worried for himself, considering all the toasts they were likely to hear, but he supposed a slightly tipsy groom was forgivable.
Mom showed up behind them. She placed her hands on Sloan’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “Welcome to the family, Sloan. So glad you’re with us. I’ve never seen Upton so happy.”
She reached over and tousled Upton’s hair. “You chose well, darling.”
Sierra aww’ed as Sloan ducked his head. He didn’t seem to know how to take it, but he pulled Upton’s hand to his lips and kissed it like that was an answer. Then he released him and sipped his champagne, retreating into himself.
“Don’t be shy, boy. You’re a Bennett now!” Sierra nudged him and then smiled down the table at Upton. “I’ve never seen him shy before.”
“No? Do I make you shy, Sloan?” Upton leaned in and kissed his cheek.
Mom raised a brow, then hugged them both briefly before she turned to Sierra. “It’s good to see you, Sierra. I have to tend to some things. Will you be a dear and make sure they behave themselves?”
“Of course, Mrs. Bennett. I’ll adult at them until they quiver and quail.” Sierra took another sip of champagne, slightly undermining her responsible image, and Sloan snorted.
Then he leaned into Upton, moving closer, and whispered in his ear, “I dunno. Do I make you happy, Upton?”
Upton grinned and turned his head away to hide his blush as he bumped his shoulder against Sloan’s.
Did he? The idea of having Sloan at his side did make him smile. Upton pressed his lips together and turned back to Sloan.
“It would seem you do. Do I make you happy?” He traced Sloan’s cheek, hoping he hadn’t just stepped in it. “Because I want to.”
Sloan smiled and kissed Upton again, catching his bottom lip and running the tip of his tongue along it. He nibbled Upton’s mouth gently and then pulled away. “You give me hope.”
Flashes went off at the kiss, which triggered Upton’s automatic panic, but he reminded himself this was a friendly photographer and, also, that he was allowed to be doing this. Upton smiled and, with his finger right under Sloan’s chin, pulled him in for another quick kiss. “I’ll take that.”
Behind him, Winnie cleared his throat. “Upton, are you going to continue to keep me and your fiancé apart?”
Upton smirked and glanced back at Winnie’s husband—tall, dark, and handsome—and said, “Well, I mean, you do have a type. I feel like I’m playing it smart.”
Winnie patted the back of Upton’s back as he chuckled. “I’m not sure if that’s flattery or an insult.”
“I am my father’s son.” Upton grinned at Winnie.
“So you are.” Winnie ruffled Upton’s hair in much the same way Mom had, then he turned his attention to Sloan and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Sloan. I’m Winston James. Friend of the family. Sorry we didn’t get to meet at rehearsal. I kept getting called out and gave up on dinner.”
Sloan pushed back his chair and stood gracefully, long limbs unfolding in smooth motions. Taking Winnie’s hand, he looked him in the eye and all but purred, “Sloan Bennett,” using the dark, sexy voice Upton hadn’t heard since that last night together. “Not Upton’s fiancé anymore. His husband.”
That magnificent smile Sloan only seemed to wear for pictures bloomed across his handsome features, making him look like a movie star or a model. “It’s a true pleasure to make your proper acquaintance, Winston. I feel almost as if I know you already. Upton cares for you a great deal. He thinks I have a lot to learn from you.”
“Does he?” Winnie took in Sloan with an appreciative smile. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bennett. I hear you’re a polyglot. That’s a wonderful asset to add to the Bennett family name.” He shook Sloan’s hand and made a slight bow of respect. “I am humbled that either of you think you have anything to learn from an old man such as myself.”
Ross stepped in behind Winnie. “This is the part where he makes everyone say he’s not old and I swoop in to remind him to take his heart medication.” He smirked and offered his hand to Sloan, and they shook. “Ross James. Pleased to meet you.”
Upton stood to give Ross a quick hug. “Good to see you, Ross.”
Sloan slipped his arm around Upton’s waist as he stepped back from the embrace with Ross, almost possessive. “I think we can all agree you’re a real trailblazer, Winston. We should all be honored by your attention.” Sloan tightened his arm around Upton, pressing into his side, and looked at Ross. “It really is lovely to meet you both. I know you’ll take very good care of him for us all, Ross.”
There was something almost too slick about Sloan’s delivery, a little pointed, but at the same time he sounded so sweetly drawling it made Upton wonder if he was imagining things.
“He’s an ox. He’s going to outlive us all.” Ross grinned as Winnie put his arm around him.
Winnie kissed Ross’s temple. “From your lips…” He eyed Sloan again, then grinned at Upton. “You hang on to this one, Upton.”
As the staff cleared away the appetizers, everyone resumed their seats. Everyone tucked into their catered gourmet, a variety of meals tailored to dietary restrictions. Mom had gone all out. Even as revved up as Upton was, his salmon smelled too good to ignore.
Between bites, he grinned at Sloan, watching him eat. Everything about him was so sensuous, so alluring. After a few moments, Upton tore away his gaze and checked on Sierra, whose lively conversation with the ambassador to France appeared to irritate the ambassador’s wife.
“You have the most delightful guests, Upton.” Sierra grinned and then leaned in to kiss Sloan’s cheek. She turned to say something he couldn’t make out, speaking in French to the ambassador. He laughed at whatever she said, and then she looked back to Upton and Sloan. “Just standing up with Sloan would’ve been enough reason to buy this dress, but this has been the most glamorous day of my life. I’m having such a good time.”
Sloan hugged her sideways and leaned his head against hers, and they whispered together for a few moments. Then Sloan leaned back and shooed her back to her discussion with the ambassador before turning his attention on Upton.
“It really is so romantic, Upton. I didn’t realize it would be so perfect.” He smiled, soft with emotion, genuine. He rested his palm at Upton’s nape and leaned a little closer, voice dropping to a warm whisper. “Thank you for this, for all of it.”
Upton blushed, not sure what to say. Most of it wasn’t his doing. He’d just bumbled into the situation, but he was glad Sloan was pleased.
“Thank you for agreeing to be my husband, Mr. Bennett.”
Just saying it sent a tingle down Upton’s spine. Not that he owned Sloan, but that Sloan was associated with him, that they would be forever associated with one another. “We’re family now. That’s nice, isn’t it? We’ll always have each other from now on, no matter what.”
Upton fiddled with Sloan’s hair, pushing it back from his face, “I want you to know that, all right? Family. And we’ll look out for each other. That’s what Bennetts do best, even when we’re sort of intrapersonal trainwrecks in other ways.”
Sloan nodded, somber now, seeming to absorb what Upton said. Then he bit his lip and then leaned in to kiss Upton again, gently, a bare press of his mouth before he pulled away. He gestured to their refilled flutes of champagne. “Shall we?”
Beside him, Sierra laughed and held up her glass in agreement. “Yes. And stop being sappy at each
other long enough to get some food in you boys. You’ll need your strength for the honeymoon.”
Upton smiled and returned to his seafood. Honeymoon. Well, there was that. It would be a week on a yacht with a crew, a discreet crew, so there was theoretically no need to perform as much affection, though Upton hoped he and Sloan wouldn’t just binge Netflix alone the whole time.
Sloan was right. This was romantic, eating dinner among glamorous people. Celebrities dotted the crowd as well as ambassadors and heads of state—old friends of Mom and Dad who didn’t care about the optics, just wanted to be there for the son of an old, dear friend. Some hangers-on, of course.
Back in the corner, Keith watched sullenly, and Upton felt a little guilty about how dismissive he’d been of him. Not that Keith had ever seemed interested in anything beyond a functional plus-one for events where Upton didn’t want to show up alone.
Upton cleared his plate and was surprised to have done so. Mom grinned at him and whispered how proud she was of him, then she slipped off to supervise the next course. They’d hired three wedding planners to see to everything, but Mom could be a bit of a micromanager.
That was when the toasts began, and once they started, they seemed to take hours as person after person stood up to give Upton and Sloan well-wishes and love.
Sloan seemed a little on edge and drank more champagne than he probably intended. He laughed too heartily at unfunny jokes, smiled too brightly at mediocre remarks. When the waiter came around again, Sierra subtly waved him off before he could refill Sloan’s flute. She whispered into his ear, and Sloan stiffened and then nodded before turning his head to look at Upton.
“I’m sorry,” Sloan mouthed, and then he shifted his chair closer and leaned against him, tilting his head to rest against the side of Upton’s. He reached for Upton’s hand and twined their fingers, then placed their joined hands on the table. He still seemed tense, but it eased a little as the toasts approached their end.
Maybe he’d been afraid of what people might say about him. That wasn’t an unreasonable fear.
Winnie gave an eloquent toast with extravagant blessings, as did Sierra, and then Mom stood up next to Upton and smiled at them. “Upton is a blessing. He’s named for Alistair’s father, a charming man who was, as I’m sure you all know, horrified by his son’s determination to be on the right side of history, no matter what the family dynasty demanded.” She put her hand on Upton’s shoulder.
“Alistair married into a family of Washington D.C. liberals, a match that was part love, and part ambition.” She smiled down at them. “We had many happy years, and a few that were…” She grinned, and the party laughed with an edge of nervousness. “The point is, marriage is work. It’s love, but it’s also a partnership. It’s seeing things through even when it gets tough. Those sour times make the good times that much sweeter. In life, as in love, there is joy and there is pain, but you two are linked now. The vows are your contract to one another and to the family. For me, I have another son.”
She put her hand on Sloan’s shoulder. “I’m pleased that you’re a Bennett now, with all the baggage and the glory that comes with it. To your future, to your happiness, and to Upton’s continued success.”
She released Sloan and took up her glass in toast along with everyone else.
Upton drank to that and tried not to think about the reasons why his siblings had declined to join them in Italy. He was pretty sure it had more to do with their jealousy over how much Upton was favored by Mom rather than dislike of Sloan, but it was disheartening.
Not that they were close. Upton had always been just young enough to be at the periphery of their lives. They experienced Alistair’s death as adults. They were not followed around by snooping media because they were not controversial children. To them, Upton hogged the spotlight. It didn’t seem to matter if that’s what he wanted.
By the end of all the toasting, Upton was little buzzed. He raked his nails gently over Sloan’s scalp, finding the smoothness of his hair soothing. Sloan leaned in to the touches, seeming to enjoy it as much as Upton did. Then he stood, and the room fell silent in anticipation.
“Hey, y’all.” Sloan beamed at the guests, still sounding a little tipsy, and lifted his half-full champagne flute. “Before we enjoy the beautiful cakes Mama Bennett picked out—I mean, helped us pick out—” Sloan paused for the laughter, grinning that million-watt grin, and then went on. “I wanted to say a few words about my new husband.”
His attention turned from the crowd to Upton, and its weight fell on him hard, leaving him a little breathless from its intensity. “Upton, you’re everything everyone here tonight’s said you are. Thoroughly good, upright, decent. You’ve been the poster boy for politically-minded gay kids everywhere for years, including me, but now you’re showing the world something else, another side of you that’s long overdue.”
Sloan paused, this time not for laughter but for silence, letting it stretch a few moments before he reached for Upton’s hand. He pulled Upton to stand before him and smiled into his eyes as camera flashes went off a few feet away.
“Upton, you’ve held all your cards close to the vest from the moment the media wrenched you into a world for which you couldn’t possibly have prepared. What you felt for me opened the first crack in that shiny, perfect facade, gave people their first glimpse of who you are behind the flawless sound bites and photogenic appearance. You were someone who, just like them, had needs and desires he sometimes couldn’t control. Your heart wanted what it wanted, like anyone else’s.
“And like only the best of us can or do, you put everything on the line, and you saw it through. You’re so much more than a symbol that a young queer kid in Nowheresville, Texas, can have a career in politics. You’re proving that he can do it while being a real person, too. That he can be more than a sexless sitcom caricature and still find acceptance, still provide representation for LGBT causes and those of his town, his district, his state, or his country. I am so humbled and so proud to be at your side while you make history, Upton. I still can’t believe my luck.”
Then Sloan pulled Upton’s hand up to press against his heart, stepped in closer, and kissed him as everyone cheered. This kiss was different, wilder, tasting of champagne as Sloan’s tongue teased Upton’s lips. They were both breathing hard as Sloan broke the kiss and raised his glass. “May you all be so lucky!”
The guests grew raucous in their approval, the clinking of glasses filling the air even before Sloan touched his to Upton’s.
Upton took a sip, then set his glass down to gaze at Sloan and cupped his face. He really was such a handsome man, so intelligent, and while maybe a little stand-offish sometimes, Upton fondly recalled waking up in his arms. “I have to thank you, Sloan, for taking this wild ride with me. For reaching out and opening me up in ways that I thought… I thought they didn’t exist for me. I’ve learned so much about life and love from you.
“I can’t wait for the world to know you better, to see in you what I do. You’re special. Handsome is something everyone can see, but that fierce intellect, that kindness and indulgence, how much you care even when it costs you.
“You are destined for great things, and I’m glad to have a front row seat to watch you become all that you dreamed. You will be a fierce advocate, a strong voice, a warm heart. I am humbled to be at your side, Sloan.”
Upton curled his fingers gently to pull Sloan into a slow, soft kiss that garnered more cheers and hooting, though Upton could barely hear it over the rush of his racing pulse. Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead to Sloan’s and took a deep breath to brace himself to face the public.
He and Sloan had kissed many times, but in some ways, it felt like a first kiss. He stroked Sloan’s neck, then released him to pick up his champagne flute. “To my husband, Sloan, and thank you all for celebrating this special day with us.”
Sloan’s cheeks had turned red, and his eyes sparkled as he looked at Upton. He raised his glass as well and then the
y drank together, the moment somehow magical despite everything. Perhaps some of this was an act, but in the way each had chosen their words to be honest, to say only the truth, maybe they’d carved something real out of the fairytale. Upton couldn’t guess where it might go or what Sloan felt, but right now, there was hope.
It was time for the cake at last, the reception almost over, at least for them. This, a first wedded dance, and they’d be off on their honeymoon.
Together, they finished off their champagne and left the empty flutes behind to walk hand in hand to the other side of the room where magnificent cakes stood waiting for them to cut them. Sugared violets and rose petals adorned tiers painted beautifully like a Moran watercolor, soft hues swirling dramatically over a pristine white base. They’d had to taste a hundred samples at least, and in the end, Sloan had set his heart on lavender-lemon buttermilk cake. Upton had backed him up, earning one of those tiny, intimate smiles he’d come to treasure. Sloan hadn’t had many opinions, but Upton had nurtured the ones he shared.
As they approached, two of the planners stood at the ready, Bluetooth headsets helping them coordinate. A moment later, the musicians began playing again, this time something sweet and a little playful as everyone gathered to watch the new couple.
Banks of flowers surrounded them as Upton and Sloan took their places behind the table. One of the planners offered Sloan the cake knife. Sloan took it and then stepped behind Upton, surprising him by pressing in against him and wrapping his arms around him instead of standing by his side. As Upton joined his grip with Sloan’s, he guided them forward to cut the first slice amidst a dizzying array of camera flashes.
They placed the slice carefully on a plate held by one of the planners, and then relinquished the knife to the other, who began cutting the cake for everyone else.
As Sloan pulled away from Upton, he kissed the shell of his ear and whispered, “Dare you to lick frosting off my mouth in front of God and everyone.”
Upton laughed. “Don’t dare me unless you want it to happen.”