Word Count: 565
Summary: "After you, Mr. Smith-Urie."
Notes: Written for the schmoop_bingo prompt - wedding: consummation. Posted without a beta, so any mistakes are unfortunately mine.
"After you, Mr. Smith-Urie," Spencer says, laughing as he holds the door of their suite open for Brendon. He's still high on the rush of the entire day and doesn't think he's stopped smiling since the ceremony.
"No, I insist. After you, Mr. Smith-Urie," Brendon argues, framing his words with an exaggerated wave and a bow.
"Never gonna get old, is it?" Spencer asks as he steps into the hotel room and starts towards the bedroom. They're both half-buzzed on kisses and champagne, and Spencer almost trips when he tries to kick his shoes off.
"God, I hope not. I love you," Brendon says, snorting as he watches Spencer fight with the laces of his dress shoes. Spencer knew they should have gone casual. Only the sight of Brendon in a suit and vest standing up at the alter had nearly undone him. Plus Ryan relishes in an excuse to go formal, and Spencer has to keep his best man happy.
"I love you too, Brendon," He mumbles, pulling Brendon close. He crushes their mouths together, tongue darting out to lick remnants of champagne from Brendon's lips. Brendon sighs into the kiss and lets Spencer suck on his tongue.
"No now with the fun part, right? We have a marriage to consummate!" Brendon squeals when Spencer comes up for air. He laughs and takes in Brendon's manic grin from inches away. He's certifiably out of his mind, but he's wearing a titanium wedding band that matches Spencer's, and that's really all that matters right now.
"What is this, the middle ages? Should we hang the bedsheets for the wedding guests to see in the morning?" Spencer asks, scoffing when Brendon looks scandalized.
"Thankfully no, since I'm nowhere close to virginal and we haven't got any chickens to kill," Brendon quips back as they tumble onto the bed. Spencer kisses him again, knowing full well that he'll never tire of this.
"Chickens?" He asks when his brain catches up. He crinkles his nose at Brendon and waits for an explanation.
"I uh...maybe read some rather embellished stories about the middle ages," Brendon admits. His cheeks are stained red and it's the most adorable thing Spencer has seen all day, so he dips down and kisses the tip of Brendon's nose.
"Like romance novel embellishment?" Spencer asks, leaning up on his elbows. He quirks an eyebrow and grins when Brendon reddens even more. It's gorgeous when Brendon blushes, his features painted red in stark contrast to his dark hair and pale skin.
"Well, my mother read them and we didn't have any porn in the house. I had to make due with what I had!" Brendon says, clearly exasperated. He's laughing, though, and Spencer knows Brendon's fully aware of what a sappy, romantic, loser he is.
"God, I love you," Spencer whispers against the hollow of Brendon's throat. He nips at the skin, grinning and biting harder when Brendon lets out a delicious little gasp.
"Good, because I'm yours now. Can't send me back," Brendon tells him, and Spencer can hear the happiness in his voice. Brendon's fingers tighten in his hair, and Spencer bites harder and then soothes the soft skin with his tongue.
"Mine," he growls. That makes Brendon whine low in his throat, and Spencer revels in the fact that he gets to do this every night for the rest of his life.