Hidden Flames – Chapter XV Preparations for the Wedding

🔞| Explicit sexual content | Mature audiences only

Preparations for the Wedding

Nathan

The small-town registrar’s office was an old red-brick building at the end of Main Street, where traffic noise filtered faintly through the open window: horns honking, a dog barking in the distance, someone laughing on the sidewalk. Inside, everything was quiet and intimate. The air carried the scent of fresh coffee mixed with lavender. Daniel, the registrar, clearly loved flowers; a large bouquet of freesias stood on his desk, next to framed family photos: him and his husband on a beach, smiling, hand in hand.

Daniel himself was exactly what you imagine a perfect registrar to be: in his fifties, graying at the temples, warm brown eyes that fixed on us the moment we stepped in. “Come on in, gentlemen,” he said in a soft, friendly voice, pulling out chairs for us. “I can see in your eyes that you two have been waiting for this day for a long time.”

We sat side by side; Lucas’s hand immediately found mine under the table, our fingers intertwining. Daniel pulled out the paperwork but first just smiled at us.

“Tell me. Where do you picture the ceremony?”

Lucas glanced at me; I nodded. Go ahead. He leaned forward, his voice trembling with excitement.

“On the farm. Our farm, out in the fields, where everything began.”

Daniel’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s a wonderful choice. A summer wedding outdoors, in the green grass, maybe under a big tree. My husband and I got married in a small garden fifteen years ago. I still remember how the sunlight filtered through the leaves when I took his hand.” He paused for a moment, his smile soft and genuine. “You two look at each other the same way. I can see the love in you.”

I blushed; Lucas squeezed my hand tighter. The whole meeting felt like talking to an old friend: Daniel offered suggestions about music, guest numbers, the order of the ceremony, constantly encouraging us. When we signed the preliminary declaration, Lucas leaned over and pressed a quick, stolen kiss to my lips, right there above the table. Daniel just laughed, from the heart.

“Boys, you’re perfect for each other. I’ll be happy to be there on the day.”

Lucas

When we stepped out of the office, the town noise enveloped us again: the rumble of a truck, birds chirping in the trees, the smell of fresh bread drifting from a bakery on the corner. But I only saw Nathan. I grabbed his waist, pulled him close on the street, not caring who might see.

“Did you hear that? We’re perfect,” I whispered in his ear, my lips brushing his neck.

“You’re the perfect one,” he murmured back, his hand sliding down my back, lower, possessive. “The farm. That’s where we’ll say yes to each other. Our place.”

On the drive home we barely spoke. We just looked at each other, smiling, unable to take our eyes off one another.

Arriving at the farm changed everything. The town sounds were replaced by country ones: wind rustling through tall grass, distant cows lowing, hammer blows from the barn, birds singing under an endless blue sky. The air was full of earth, hay, and summer warmth.

A week before the wedding, my parents arrived. Dad, Bobby, got out of the car a little stiffly, but Mom, Mary, jumped right in, as if she’d always lived here.

“Lucas, sweetheart!” She hugged me tightly, then turned to Nathan and hugged him just as hard. “Nathan, my dear boy, let me look at you. Happiness looks good on you both.”

Paul, my younger brother, stood grinning behind them, a six-pack of beer in his hand.

“Hey, big bro. Congrats on finally making it official. Figured I’d bring something decent, since I know you and Nathan only drink that wine stuff.”

We laughed. The whole farm laughed.

The following days dissolved into chaos of the most beautiful kind. Mary took charge: making lists for tents, flowers, food, chairs. Paul helped with the heavy work: hauling bales, cleaning the barn where the reception would be, constantly teasing us the whole time.

“So, who’s wearing the veil?” he asked once with a grin, earning a threat from Nathan involving a hay bale.

But in the evenings, when the sun dipped below the horizon and the farm quieted, only crickets chirping and a distant owl hooting, then it was our time.

Nathan

Our bedroom windows were open; the warm summer evening air flowed in, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and flowers. Lucas stood behind me at the mirror, arms around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder. We looked at ourselves: two men, sweaty from the day’s work, but happy, so happy it almost hurt.

“Are you nervous?” I asked quietly, my hand covering his.

“Yes,” he admitted, voice low and husky. “But not about saying yes. I can’t wait to call you my husband in front of everyone.”

I turned to face him. His eyes were dark, full of desire, love, everything worth living for.

“One week,” I whispered, my lips brushing his. “One week, and I’ll be yours by law too.”

The kiss started soft, promising. Then it deepened, grew hungrier. Lucas’s hands slipped under my shirt, tracing my back, his nails lightly scratching my skin. We shed our clothes piece by piece until we stood naked facing each other in the moonlight.

He lowered me slowly to the floor, onto the rug, laying me on my back. His mouth traveled downward from my neck, across my chest, my stomach, leaving marks everywhere. When he took me into his mouth, I moaned, my hand tangling in his hair. He teased me slowly, torturously, until I was begging.

“Lucas. Please.”

He rose above me, eyes locked on mine as he entered me, slowly, inch by inch, letting me feel every bit of him. Our movements were careful at first, almost ceremonial, then wilder, deeper. The farm sounds surrounded us: wind in the trees, crickets, our own panting.

“Nathan.” He whispered my name like a prayer as he moved faster inside me. “You’re about to be my husband.”

My body arched; my arms held him tight, nails digging into his back.

“I already am,” I gasped. “I always have been.”

When we came, together, at the same moment, I cried his name into the summer night. Afterward we just lay in each other’s arms, sweaty, breathless, our hearts beating as one.

Lucas

Morning light bathed the farm; sunlight filtered golden through the barn boards where Paul was erecting a tent, sweating but grinning. The air was full of fresh hay, chickens scratched in the dust in the distance, and Mom’s voice carried from the kitchen where Mary was planning the menu with Bobby. Everything seemed perfect on the outside. Inside, though, I sensed tension in Nathan, a shadow he tried to hide behind his smile.

I walked over to Paul and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, little bro. Got a question for you.”

Paul set down the hammer, wiped his forehead. “What’s up, big bro? Need something else for the wedding? Please say it’s not picking flowers.”

I laughed but looked at him seriously. “No. I want you to be my best man. You, the one who’s always stood by me, even when it wasn’t easy.”

Paul’s eyes widened, then he grinned, but I could see he was touched. “For real? Of course, Lucas. I’m proud of you. Of both of you. Nathan’s a good guy, and. Well, you two deserve this.”

We hugged, manly, but tight. I knew it meant a lot to him too; our family hadn’t always been the warmest, but now we were here, together.

Nathan’s side, though. That was different.

Nathan

Erika arrived last night, alone, small bag over her shoulder, stepping off the train at the little town station. She’d happily agreed to be my best woman. “Nathan, honey, of course! I’d go to the ends of the earth for you.” But I could tell something was wrong even then. Mom and George weren’t coming. I hadn’t really expected them to, but deep down I’d hoped.

We sat now at the kitchen table in the warm farmhouse, coffee scent mixing with baking bread from the oven. Erika across from me, hands on the table, fingers drumming nervously. Lucas beside me, his hand resting on my thigh; Mary and Bobby by the stove, listening.

“Nathan.” Erika began softly, voice shaking. “Mom’s not coming. And George. George has completely lost it. When he found out about the wedding, he shouted. Said he never wants to see you again. That you. You’re the family’s shame. He forbade Mom from coming here, and now he’s trying to get her to disinherit you. So you get nothing, because in his words you ‘don’t deserve it.’”

The words hit me like a knife. My chest tightened; the air left my lungs. George had always been hard, but this. This wasn’t just anger. This was hate. Pure, raw hate. And Mom? Mom, who always stayed silent, wasn’t standing up to him now either. She wasn’t defending me. Again.

Everything blurred before my eyes. The farm sounds, crickets outside, the fire crackling inside, all went silent. Only the pain remained, that old, deep wound George kept reopening. How can I be the shame? Why is it never enough? Why can’t they love me as I am?

Tears spilled from my eyes; I couldn’t stop them. “But why? Why isn’t it enough for him that I’m happy? Why does he have to do this?”

Lucas

I watched Nathan break, and my heart broke with him. I grabbed his hand, held it tight, as if I could keep him together that way.

“Nathan. Sweetheart.” I started, but Erika spoke first, voice cracked but strong.

“Nathan, I’m here. I see you. You’re the strongest person I know. George. He’s sick. Sick with hate. But you’re not alone. I’m on your side, always.”

Mary stepped closer, her hand resting gently on Nathan’s shoulder, motherly. “Nathan, sweetheart. We are your family. Here on this farm. We love you exactly as you are. George? He lost you, not the other way around. And your mother. I’m sorry, but if she won’t stand up for you, she’s losing too.”

Bobby, who rarely showed emotion, nodded now, voice low and gruff: “Son, you belong with us. Don’t let that bastard take your happiness. We’re here. There’s going to be a wedding, and you’ll be the center of it, happy.”

Nathan looked at me, eyes full of pain but with a small light, ours. I pulled him into my arms, tight, right in the middle of the kitchen, while Erika leaned in too. The farm sounds slowly returned: wind in the trees, chickens scratching, the sounds of life. But now we were the stronger ones.

“You are my family,” I whispered in Nathan’s ear. “And we are stronger than them. Forever.”

Nathan

In Lucas’s arms I felt the pain ease slowly, not gone, but smaller. Erika stroked my back, Mary pushed a mug of tea toward me, Bobby just stood there, solid as a rock.

I knew it would still hurt. George’s betrayal, Mom’s cowardice, these were deep wounds. But here, on this farm, with these people. Maybe I could heal. Maybe our wedding wasn’t just about us, but about building a new family. A real one.

By the end of the day the farmyard glowed golden. The sun was setting behind distant hills, painting the sky orange and pink, while the air cooled but still carried the last caress of summer warmth. Scents drifting from the kitchen, garlic-roasted lamb, rosemary potatoes, freshly baked bread, drew us to the table Mary and Bobby had set together under the big tree in front of the barn.

Mary directed as always, but Bobby worked beside her now, slicing meat, stirring sauce, occasionally even smiling at her. “Been a long time since we did this together,” he said quietly once, and Mary just squeezed his arm. Paul brought the wine, Erika the salad, Lucas and I helped where we could, but mostly we just watched them, this new family knitting itself together.

We sat around the table; candlelight danced on faces. Plates filled, glasses clinked. No one mentioned George or Mom. It wasn’t necessary. The love was there in the silence, in the fact that we were together.

Bobby raised his glass first. “To the boys,” he said simply, voice a little rough. “To Lucas and Nathan. May they be happy. Always.”

We all drank. I felt the wine warm my throat, and something else, my heart. The pain still throbbed somewhere deep, but now I didn’t carry it alone. Around me sat honest, loving people who didn’t judge, didn’t demand anything, only gave.

Lucas

I noticed Nathan’s eyes shining in the candlelight, not from tears this time, but from something else. I smiled at him under the table; my leg touched his, our fingers intertwined.

After dinner, when everyone leaned back full and content, I stood.

“I have a surprise,” I said, winking at Paul, who already knew the plan. “We set up an outdoor screen in the yard together. Blankets, pillows, popcorn. And tonight we’re watching Nathan’s favorite.”

Nathan’s eyes went wide. “Seriously?”

“Star Trek,” I nodded, grinning. “The 2009 one, with Chris Pine. I know you love the way young Kirk grins and saves the universe.”

Erika laughed, Mary clapped, Bobby just nodded, but I saw he was pleased. Paul was already running to turn on the projector.

Nathan

Blankets were spread on the grass in the yard, pillows piled high, a big white sheet stretched across the barn wall. Stars were just appearing overhead, as if they wanted to watch with us. Lucas and I lay down in the center, the others around us, Erika beside me, Paul at our feet, Mary and Bobby under one shared blanket.

When the familiar music started, the Enterprise streaking across the screen, Chris Pine’s grin. I felt something finally let go inside me.

Lucas’s arm wrapped around me, his lips at my ear.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Yes,” I answered quietly, honestly. “Now I really am.”

The pain didn’t vanish completely. It never will. But now it was smaller than the love surrounding me. Erika’s hand on mine, Mary’s laugh at a joke, Bobby’s quiet comment on the movie, Paul’s teasing. And Lucas. Always Lucas.

I looked at the stars above the screen and knew: in a few days we would be each other’s forever. Here on this farm, with these people.

The big day was almost here.

And I was ready.