Because of his eagerness to put all of his energy toward the wedding, and his little, needy fiancé, Hunter finished his schooling within seven months. He got the basic information out of the way, and pushed the extra curriculum to the side, claiming he would get back to it if he needed it for a job. Hunter, unfortunately, completed his classes on the brink of failure for each of them, no matter how many hours of effort he put into them. He would simply never be up to the standard that most other kids his age were, because of all of the years he went without an education. Since he got done earlier than he or Archer had expected, they planned to have their wedding on the day of their eighteenth birthdays, exactly how his pére had been married on his twentieth.

The plans for the wedding were moving along smoothly, with orders put in for long tables and table cloths, and a carpet for Archer and his daddy to walk down before he was given away to his future husband. Now that Hunter was more involved, he put in his own say on the coloring and the song choices, opinions that a frantic Archer was relieved to hear. He had very little experience with planning events, or even being involved in them, so he relied heavily on his family. Hunter was out with Blaine and Keegan, suit shopping-his daddy and uncle claimed to have gained weight since the last ceremonies where they had to get dressed up, and Archer had given them the stink eye, knowing that his daddys husbands knack for all the latest fashions had just rubbed off on him. Archer sat in his bedroom while they were gone, digging through his closet for an appropriate attire for their honeymoon. He groaned, thinking that it would have been nice to have pants that were cut a little shorter, or a shirt that revealed an inch of midriff, but all he came up with were bulky sweatshirts and baggy jeans. Behind him, his pére, who had been lounging on his bed, slowly stretched up like a cat, "Do not grumble so. It isnt flattering, dear. Whats the matter now?"

Archer had called up for his pére, seeking his advice on anything his mind suddenly panicked about. With the wedding only a month away, Archer seemed to have a meltdown at least once a day. He couldnt handle the stress, like he was sure his pére had done with his usual calm demeanor. "Pére, I dont have anything to wear for the honeymoon. Maybe I want to look a little attractive for my future husband. All of these clothes are so drab! But I dont even know where were going. What if its somewhere cold? Oh... Hunter told me he was going to take care of the honeymoon. What if he forgot? What if he didnt order plane tickets?" He crushed his face with the palms of his hands, breathing rapidly, "I dont even have an outfit for the wedding, Pére! I never found anything I liked. And now its coming to be wedding season... Anything good is probably sold out. Our wedding is falling apart. Most of my orders havent come in yet. I dont even know anyone! Its going to be a small gathering. Why did I order so many tables-?"

Archer clamped his mouth shut when a pair of hands draped over his shoulders, squeezing them gently. He peered between his fingers at his pére, who pried his hands away from his face. "Take a deep breath, Archer." His pére said lowly, brushing a crumpled curl off of his forehead. "Look at me, sweetheart. Will you tell me why youre planning this wedding?"

Archer wiped his moist eyes, "To... marry Hunter. Of course thats why, Pére. What other reason would I have to go through this stress?"

His pére nodded, "And why are you marrying Hunter?"

Archers brows crinkled, "Because I love him."

"And does anything else matter?" His pére whispered, a small smile flickering over his pink lips as Archer shook his head. "No ones going to be looking at a couple of extra tables on the lawn, when youre going to be out there... the most dazzling person in the entire ceremony." He wrapped him in his long arms, and Archer held onto his pére, taking strength from his tight embrace. "Its okay to be nervous, Archer. I know that I was. My hands were shaking from the moment that he proposed until I was walking up the aisle. But dont run yourself around in circles. Its never good for a future husband to be exhausted. I have something that might help you, if you can forgive it for what it is."

"Forgive what?" Archer clasped his delicate hand as he drew him over to the staircase. "Pére?"

"Come with me." His pére led him out of his bedroom and over to the next staircase. Archer realized that they were going into his bedroom. Following him inside, Archer sat down on the edge of the bed as his pére pushed aside his closet door. He pulled out ten hangers, which were strung up with dresses and blouses and skirts, and set those aside. Reaching into the back of his closet, he drew out a long dress that had been wrapped in plastic. "I dont expect you to wear this, Archer. I just want you to know that its here." He laid it across the bed. Archer watched him drag the plastic off of it, flinging the crinkling material to the ground.

Still in its pristine, white condition, his wedding dress draped across the bed, the bodice glittering as Archers moving shadow caused lights to dance across it. The full skirts, each layer so fine that it was like holding air, fell over the edge of the bed. His pére stared at the dress, his expression unreadable. He smoothed a pale hand over the bodice, "If there was one day I could live over again, it would be my wedding." Tears glimmered at the corners of his blue eyes. "Everything was so perfect. I was so incredibly happy. That was before... before Hunter was stolen from us, angel. Both of you were there. You brought the rings down the aisle. You were still toddling... I was so nervous that you might trip, and the rings would go rolling into the grass."

They both laughed at that, and then whipped their heads around, becoming aware of two tiny bodies waddling across the bed. His pére offered his fingers to the birds, and they settled onto them, wiggling their tails. "You two were there, as well. Do you remember, Pavarotti and Everett? You were babies back then... and you didnt have these large guts."

Archer smiled as his pére scratched their bellies, glimpsing back down at the dress. He picked up the bodice and held it to his chest. "I remember how pretty you looked, Pere. I, um..." He tucked his hair behind his ear, "I appreciate you offering this to me, but, Pére... look at me. Im not nearly as beautiful as you are. I would look awkward in this dress. You have everything to pull this dress off... long legs, thin shoulders, high collarbones. But Im... so stumpy."

His pére shook his head, "I dont think so. I think that youre very unique. Dont you see it, Archer?" Scooting closer to him, his pere combed his fingers through his thick hair. He pushed it behind his ears. "You look just like your dad. I might be a little biased, but I think that youre gorgeous. And Hunter certainly saw something in you that he liked. Be confident, lovely. Youre a strong, intelligent boy whos loved more than hell ever know." He kissed the side of Archers head, "Will you try on the dress? At least for me?"

"Yes, Pére." Archer pulled up the bottom of his sweatshirt. He appeared from under it, hair ruffled and cheeks dark as his pére mussed with his hair, arm stretching out to his vanity so he could snatch a hair clip, which had a small, blue rose pinned the top of it. The rose shimmered with tiny beads, to resemble mildew after a fresh rain. He tucked it into Archers hair.

"Something blue." He whispered, and then hugged Archer until neither of them could breathe.

Hunter stared at his feet for the entire walk into town, his eyes catching the blades of grass that lawnmowers had churned up. He crushed every one of them, not letting them be carried away in the wind. Every so often, he noticed a stray flower peeking up between the cracks in the sidewalk. He plucked them and folded them into his hand, only to get called to, "Come on, Hunter. Those arent flowers. Theyre just weeds." Fascinated by the new vision he had of the world, Hunter admired the weeds, whether or not they were just shams of real flowers. Hunter tagged along with Blaine and his dad, whose conversations were much more boring than any hed ever had with Kurt. They spoke mostly of Blaines work, which Keegan sometimes went with him to, but sometimes their words would branch off to topics like Archer. Not often enough for Hunters liking. To him, there was nothing more interesting than speaking about Archer-the way that he scrunched his nose slightly when he slept, the way that his hair flopped around his face when he moved, how his chest rose and dropped when he breathed.

His dad propped the door open to a small, quaint coffee shop that lighthearted chatter spilled out of. His blond head tipped back as he stared at Hunter, who had lagged behind and was examining the bed of flowers under the tinted window. He felt like a small child, enthralled by the most overlooked parts of life. Blaine looked back at him, eyebrows quirked as an amused smile twitched at his lips, "Those are flowers, Hunter. Keep up. I promised Kurt that we would be home for dinner."

Hunter hurried to catch up to Blaine and his dad, eyes peering behind him. "What kind of flower was that? It looked like it had a mane."

"Lions tail." Blaine said distractedly, fishing his wallet from his back pocket. "I think. Kurts always been the one to tend to our gardens. I just water them." He placed his hand at Hunters back, rubbing his palm in a circular motion, "Youll have hundreds of flowers at your wedding. Kurt made sure of that. Pick out what you want to drink. Well sit for a while before we go home. Its a nice day. We should enjoy it."

Hunter flicked his eyes up to the board, reading on a smudged, chalky sign that the special of the day was a salted caramel mocha. Even though he didnt know what a salted caramel mocha was, he pointed it out to Blaine, and then spun his head around when his dad tapped his shoulder. His eyes softened on Keegans turquoise ones, and he shuffled to his side. Resting his head on Keegans shoulder, he heard him say, "What does it feel like to be able to see again?"

Hunter smiled from ear to ear, feeling Keegan rub his pale lips over the crown of his head. "It feels like I came back to life. I love watching all of the colors. I like seeing the rain ripple down the street... and the wind blow the leaves. Its like Ive never been a part of this world. It helps that my family is so beautiful. I feel like I finally know what it is to be completely happy, Dad."

Although Hunter had always been closer to Blaine, and probably always would be, Keegans tall presence made him feel safe and comfortable. Laying his head against his chest, Hunter listened to the beating of his heart. "I sometimes wonder what Evie would do, if he opened his eyes and saw what the world has become... what Ive become. Im not a seventeen year old boy anymore."

Hunter glanced up at his dads face, counting the creases around his eyes and at the corners of his lips. His blond hair had faded, but was still nearly the color of the sun. "Evie wouldnt mind if youve grown a little weathered. They never do if its true love."

Keegan smiled sadly, reaching out to take his iced coffee from Blaine, "It was true love. There was no one who could have loved Evie more than I did." Nudging Hunter up to Blaine when he turned around with his mocha, Keegan followed them over to a booth and sat down on his own side.

Hunter stirred his drink, staring at the older man across from him. "Dad..." He muttered, "I know that you order iced coffee for something to remember Evie by, but dont you get tired of the taste?"

Keegan shook his head, "Not at all. When all you have left of someone you loved is the memory of the taste of their mouth when you kissed them, you hold onto that as tightly as you can." When Hunter lowered his brows as he considered that, Keegan simply shrugged, "Be glad that you dont understand, Hunter. Hold onto your fiancé as tightly as you can, and dont let go."

"Havent you ever considered settling down again?"

Keegan, once again, managed a weepy smile, "No... never. For me, there was only Evie. Some boys are very handsome, thats true... but when you love someone the way that I loved Evie, you scoff at the thought of there being anyone else, even for companionship. Evie was beautiful, Hunter, and I think you would agree with my decision if you had known him. He was fiery and strong, but let out these moments of weakness around me. He thought that I was his superhero..." Keegans eyes became moist at the corners. "To him, my only weakness was that my grip wasnt tight enough when he was yanked out of my arms." Shaking his head, Keegan wiped the tears away. His voice was thicker when he spoke again, "Besides, Im older now. No one in his right mind would want me. Ive had my youthful first love. That was enough."

Hunter leaned back in his seat, mulling over what Keegan had told him, in the wise tone that made it sound like he had everything figured out. The pucker to his bottom lip softened as he realized that his love for Archer was just as passionate, if not so much so that it became a little heated at times. He couldnt think of going on for a week without his little fiancé there to hug and kiss him out of his foul moods, and to warm his bed, and to giggle at his bedhead when he awoke beside of his pale, wriggling form.

Keegans hand suddenly molded over his sharp shoulder, "Its okay, Hunter. You can ask any questions you want to. I love to talk about Evie... I just get a little emotional. But I dont want you to focus on that right now. You have a wedding in a month."

Blaine, after swallowing the sip of coffee hed taken, twisted toward Hunter, "Hunter... the reason I took you and Keegan out today was because I wanted to talk to you privately. As much as I adore my beautiful, little husband and son, there isnt a place in the house that they wont stick their noses into if they think that something is up." Hunter furrowed his brows at Blaine. "Before we go to the tailor to be measured, I wanted to ask you something. Instead of buying a new tuxedo, do you want to wear mine?"

Hunters mouth dropped at the offer, which was more than he could have dreamed about being given. Hed seen clips of Blaine and Kurts wedding videos nearly a hundred times, and secretly envied Blaines crisp, raven black suit, knowing he would never have anything half as dashing. "Blaine... really?"

Blaine nodded, "It would have to be lengthened... quite a bit." He gave Hunters leggy form an appraising glance, "And tightened. Youre much skinnier than I am. It is nearly two decades old, so if you want to wear something that came out recently-"

"Blaine, how could I turn you down?" Hunter kept gaping at him, slack jawed, before he realized that he probably looked like an idiot. He closed his mouth, and then opened it to finish his statement. "Are you sure? You really want to give your wedding attire to me?"

Blaine scowled, "Im not giving it to you. Youre only going to wear it once, Hunter." Somewhere in that last statement, there was a threat that made Hunter chuckle. "Do you want to wear my tuxedo?"

"Of course I do." Hunter said quickly, as if afraid that the offer would be taken away if he took too long to deliberate. "Blaine, Id be honored to wear it. You dont know what this means to me."

Blaine grinned, letting out of a huff of air when Hunter flung his arms around his neck. He gripped Hunter just as tightly, "Hunter... take care of my baby for me. Dont let him cry. The best part of being a husband is just being a best friend." He flicked Hunters ear, "But dont let him and his bratty attitude walk all over you, either."

Hunter laughed, keeping his eyes open so he could stare at the grainy stubble that shadowed Blaines strong jaw. He didnt know what his biological dad looked like, but he knew that he wasnt like Blaine. "Ill make him happy, Blaine. And when Im not making him happy, Ill have him wanting to hit me upside the head. Thats what makes me happy. He has an adorable temper. I love when he stamps his feet and puffs up his chest."

Blaine smiled into his hair, "I know plenty about his temper. You deal with it for me. Theres nothing I like about when hes squealing and throwing a tantrum."

"He got his temper from you." Keegan put in, making Blaines smile widen.

"Oh, really? I always thought he got that side of himself from Kurt. He sounds an awful lot like Kurt does when his clothes get stained."

"Or his hair gets wet."

"Or his nails chip." Blaine grimaced, "I have a very loud, prissy husband."

"Youre just now realizing that?" Keegan rolled his eyes. "Were you hiding under a rock when one of his purses fell into a puddle of mud last week?"

"I was already at the store, buying him a new one." Blaine tapped his head, "A husbands intuition."

Hunter snorted at that, "And at what point in my marriage will I develop that for Archer? Hes always up for a quarrel, but I could be two steps ahead of him and avoid his spouts of anger."

Blaine smirked, leaning closer to Hunter as if what he was about to say was confidential, "The smartest thing youll ever do as a husband is stuff boxes of chocolates and flowers into the back of a closet. At the first sign of trouble, you pull one of them out. It works every time. It made my life easier."

Hunter threw his head back, entertained by the antics that Blaine had gotten into over the course of his marriage. Wiping his eyes, he looked back at Blaine, who frivolously winked, "If you give them the chocolates when theyre already in a good mood, youre guaranteed to have an amazing night." The playful expression suddenly fell from his face, "But only after youre married, Hunter."

Hunter scooted closer to Blaine, who slid an arm around his waist, "Its a little too late for that, Blaine." He shut his eyes when Blaines hand came to the side of his head, stroking his hair. His chest rumbled deeply, and he peeled one lid open, "Id forgotten what it feels like to belong. And now I know." Blaines muscular arm squeezed him closer, and Hunter nuzzled his face into his shirt, which smelled like laundry detergent and cologne. "Love you." He mumbled to no one in particular, his eyes falling shut once more. Now that he knew that the faces of those he loved would still be there when he opened them, he found it much easier to let himself drift off into blackness.