#levinstar

None of it was supposed to happen like this. None of it.

The plan had been easy. Simple. Get Levin’s help obtaining the Dominus Librum- a threefold advantage that not only gave him access to transport to carry them past the point he could fly himself, an immediate chance to use it to get himself at worst back to his normal appearance and at best, normal, and the opportunity to watch Levin fight a third party again. (He’d already known Levin was the most physically attractive of that little posse- with those high cheekbones, broad shoulders, and he’d always been weak for brown eyes- but seeing him in action against the Highbreed Invasion had firmly cemented him in the ‘lustful fantasy’ pile.) Use the Dominus Librum, which, if his estimates were right, would leave both of them back to their proper looks and without their powers. Take it home and use it to replace his energy absorption, so he could use it to continue to feed his addiction while the Tennysons were down a team member and so less likely to be able to stop him.

Simple plan. Easy. There should not have been any issues.

Levin, in an outburst of joyous impulsivity, had lobbed the thing into the fucking ocean. Had by pure luck scuttled the entire goddamn plan.

Things had immediately descended into an argument about how shortsighted that was and how valuable the artifact was and no Levin he did not want to ‘figure something out’ if things went sideways from here. The conflict had escalated, voices were raised, things had been about to spill over- when it hit that he’d been talking too fast, that despite this he’d not felt his teeth rasp together once. Nothing’d gotten caught. A check showed his palms an unbroken plane. His hunger was barely worth noting.

The burning, hollow need for energy, for power, was still there, but compared to whatever in his chest was still nine and convincing himself he wanted to play alone breaking into two? It may as well not have been there either.

One moment he’d been yelling and about to hit the bastard like he’d wanted to from the start, then it had maybe been four beats, and he hadn’t been able to stop himself laughing. A halting, half-choked thing. Then Levin had been laughing, and he’d always been told snorting was slobbish but when he had all his senses later he’d admit it was charming from him. There’d been hugging (he didn’t even have to be delicate!) and more laughing, and he was forever going to blame the cacophony of emotions going on for how damn close he came to kissing Levin before he’d pulled out of his grasp. It wasn’t his fault; he’d been grinning like sunshine and anyone who said they were stronger than that was in denial.

They’d gone back to Bellwood, both more than a little dazed by the whole situation. They were normal, for once in their lives the health concerns, keeping tight control, the social pressures, the ostracization, didn’t apply. It was a lot to take in, and the trip had been mostly silence. That and the rumbling of their stomachs as they reached land. Given Mike’s had been going when they set out on their little trip, had been for most of his life, and that they had been a solid day, it was good timing. Mike had sung the praises of his favorite Indian restaurant until Levin had rolled his eyes, still grinning, and agreed to try it out.

They’d chatted while they waited for food, mostly about their mutations and the trouble they’d given them and how wonderful it was not to worry about that shit anymore. No more pulling teeth, no more getting stuck Wrong, no more undying hunger, no more fucking tumors (Mike may have called the waitress back over and ordered Levin a dessert to make up for that shit). The conversation had died when the food had arrived, and Mike couldn’t be shamed to admit that it was his fault. He’d been too busy properly appreciating his chicken vindaloo for the first time. Levin had teased him for practically melting over the dish, then laughed at his admittance that the extra teeth had left him with too little clear space for enough tastebuds to get near the full range of flavor and shared his food.

For obvious reasons they had parted on better terms than Mike had thought possible, given their history. He hadn’t even liked the guy twenty-four hours ago and the feeling had been very mutual.

Fuck, he’d been in a good enough mood, and happy enough with Kevin, that when Gwen had tracked him down later to figure out his angle he hadn’t even antagonized her, no matter how much having that power settled well. He’d simply admitted he had no angle (what could he have, his powers were gone and his plan had been scuttled, though she hadn’t had to know that) and disengaged.

Still, the improvement in relations had meant nothing to him two days later, when he had stormed into Levin’s garage while he was, thankfully, alone and promptly broken his nose. There’d been a lot of yelling, ninety-nine percent of it from Mike as he’d proceeded to lay the blame for the downright painful need to absorb energy- he truly was aching, it had never been this bad before- coming clean about his original plan so Levin would know why his pain was his fault. He was aching, craving, he couldn’t sleep, this was apparently his life now, because things hadn’t been and enough before now he had this going on too, at one point Levin had to help him keep from tripping over his own two feet. All of this he threw back at him, if he hadn’t tossed the fucking artifact Mike could’ve fed this need, he wouldn’t be going through this, it was all his fault, right up to the moment Levin grabbed him by the shoulders and asked if he needed to hit him again.

The offer had been so far out of left field for who he knew him to be and the history they had that it’d shocked Mike right out of his fit. He’d taken several deep breaths then, restocking his lungs, and carefully shook his head in the negative. Levin had nodded, led him over to sit on the ratty couch by the wall, and gotten him some painkillers and a soda. As he did, he reassured him that it would all pass, he was going to be fine, he should be ready in case of seizures, yes those were possible, yes it was bullshit, it might be several weeks for things to completely clear up, but he would be fine. It was a very confusing situation for anybody, nonetheless somebody running on minimal sleep, with a pounding headache, and who really wanted to eat the fucker in front of him. Which must have shown from the smile Levin gave him.

“Hey, you didn’t try to kill me, so you’re at least handling withdrawal better than I did.”

It had been one of the least pleasant periods of Mike’s life. Not quite up there with that first month after his dad died- way too much had happened there that had led him into this whole mess in the first place- but a close second. The moments of disorientation improved over the rest of the week, shifting into something more easily blamed on the fact he still couldn’t manage a good night’s sleep. The insomnia seemed to take ages to fade away, as did the pain, neither of which helped his swinging mood and shortened temper. Kevin had put up with it well though, and Mike had quickly found himself a regular visitor. Having somebody he could bitch to about what he was going through, who could give advice and reassurance in kind? Was incredibly appreciated. The Tennysons had pitched a fucking fit when they found out he was hanging around and Kevin was letting him, not helped by how short Mike had been with them, but there had been a wary cease-fire put in place. Nobody would be fighting anybody until they started shit.

So, things had quickly settled into what wasn’t quite a routine. When Mike felt like shit he would go to Kevin’s garage and either wait for him to come back or just immediately head in and throw himself onto the couch. They’d bitch back and forth a bit- withdrawal was an absolute cunt and apparently juggling black market work with dealing with the Tennysons would give anyone a migraine- snipe at each other in a way that had started out cutting and descended into something that was almost fondness, talk about shared interests and what they had going on. Mike would try to catch up on his sleep, Kevin would make him help out around the garage. At one point, half dozing, Mike had even admitted to missing flying. He hadn’t known the weight that was on his shoulders until Kevin noted his enhanced strength having been really nice to have.

They built up a back and forth over time. Kevin mentioned wearing her grandpa’s suit to his first date with Gwen, Mike had drug him to his favorite boutique to get him his own. (There’d been a lot of eye rolls and bitching, but the look on Kevin’s face later, when he saw himself in a well-tailored suit? Made it worth it.) Mike admitted to never having had to do his own chores past throwing his clothes in a hamper, Kevin had indignantly drug him to his apartment and taught him to wash dishes and do laundry. (It grated against his pride like nails on a chalkboard, but be had to admit the sense of accomplishment when he got it all down was far better than he’d expected.) Kevin needed a hard-to-find part for his car, Mike made phone calls. (Yes, he could have got it on his own, classic car owners had whole forums, he was aware, but why wait when a family name can carry you?) Addiction gnawed at the back of Mike’s brain, Kevin helped him take steps looking into a few hobbies to focus himself on rather than find something new to feed it. (He was now tentative owner of three houseplants and enjoying playing Amnesia even if he was shit at it.) Kevin opened up about some bullshit that’d happened to him not long before Mike put his plan into action, Mike took his side without a second’s hesitation. (“So, when I manipulate and feed on Gwen, she’s an innocent victim, but when somebody manipulates and mind controls you, you brought it on yourself? Fuck that.”)

It was, Mike was blindsided with nearly two months after that confrontation in the garage, as he sat there soothing the pain of his regrowing teeth and the rumbling of his stomach with a cheesecake and politely ignored the way the lights flickered as Kevin got annoyed with his latest project, a friendship. Or at least he was fairly certain it was at that point. He’d had all of one friend in his life and they hadn’t spoken in over a year for various reasons. But it felt like a friendship. They were still hanging out, even after his withdrawal was well behind him. The Tennysons weren’t happy, but nobody gave him trouble when they were all there at the same time, and he found himself keeping his trouble to obvious teasing. He was learning things and enjoying it, Kevin was learning things and enjoying it. When he’d realized his mutations were returning (and hadn’t the mix of dread and delight at when he was regaining been absolutely dizzying) he hadn’t even thought before going to Kevin about it, and felt camaraderie over his sparking and neither knowing quite what emotions they had going. Mike had talked about buying him suitable property of his own once he had access to his trust funds in a handful of years, and had shocked himself by meaning it.

This hadn’t been the plan. None of it. Not even close. If anything, he was living the opposite of his goal and surprisingly happy for it. Or at least somewhere bordering content. The yearning for power and energy was still there, but he felt like he was getting a better handle on it, an actual one this time. And he had a friend now, when the fuck had he gotten a friend? Out of Kevin, with whom two months ago he’d had a mutual ‘fuck you’ relationship. Who now could smile and make his gut flip around, something it hadn’t done for over a year and he was doing his level best to ignore.

The Ballad of Michael Valentine

And I said hold tight Can't you see it's hurting me But I've got the buzz Like Marlon Brando Michael Valentine, can't we unite?

An introduction of sorts. As Michael takes the stage with legendary charm and determined to win at this game.

Somebody Told Me

Breaking my back just to know your name Seventeen tracks and I've had it with this game I'm breaking my back just to know your name But heaven ain't close in a place like this

Never thought I’d let a rumour ruin my moonlight

Michael sees Kevin for the first time at a local club. He recognize him as someone his old highschool girlfriend seems to hang out a lot back then and even now. Michael is interested.

Andy You’re A Star

On the field I remember you were incredible Hey shut up, hey shut up, yeah On the field I remember you were incredible Hey shut up, hey shut up, yeah On the match with the boys, you think you're alone With the pain that you drain from love In a car with a girl, promise me she's not your world Cause Andy, you're a star

While Gwen dates both Kevin and Michael they start to see each other as the pass by. Weird feelings ensue but the nature of them is yet to be determined. Disgust. Disdain. Desire. 

Mr. Brightside 

It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss Now I'm falling asleep and she's calling a cab While he's having a smoke and she's taking a drag Now they're going to bed and my stomach is sick And it's all in my head but she's touching his chest Now, he takes off her dress Now, let me go

Michael’s jealousy gets out of control as he suspects more and more about what goes on behind closed doors between Kevin and Gwen. He starts planning his next steps to ensure he isn’t the one left alone.

Change Your Mind

Help me through the hopeless haze But my oh my Tragic eyes I can't even recognize myself behind So if the answer is no Can I change your mind

Kevin and Gwen argue over the role Michael plays in both of their lives. Kevin fears that Michael’s possessive nature may get the best of him and may be a danger, especially to Gwen as Michael goads Kevin to take a more domineering approach towards Gwen, saying she should be more possession than partner. Gwen trusts Michael.

Everything Will Be Alright

I believe in you and me I'm coming to find you If it takes me all night Wrong until you make it right And I won't forget you At least I'll try And run, and run tonight Everything will be alright

Gwen comforts Kevin, as he rests his head her lap as she strokes his hair.

Midnight Show

I got a blanket in the back seat on my mind And a little place that sits beneath the sky She turned her face to speak But no-one heard her cry Drive faster, boy Drive faster, boy

Oh crashing tide can't hide a guilty girl

With jealous hearts that start with gloss and curls

I took my baby's breath beneath the chandelier

Of stars in atmosphere

And watch her disappear

Into the midnight show...

After Kevin and Gwen’s talk, Michael insists that they take a drive, the three of them. Michael sits in the back with Gwen while Kevin drives. By the end of the night Gwen was gone.

Jenny was a Friend of Mine

We took a walk that night, but it wasn't the same We had a fight on the promenade out in the rain She said she loved me, but she had somewhere to go She couldn't scream while I held her close I swore I'd never let her go

There ain’t no motive for this crime ‘cause Gwennie was a friend of mine

Kevin is questioned by the police. This is it. He was the last one seen with Gwen and her mother has told the cops all they need to know about how their relationship seemed. Eye and ear witnesses say him grip her to tightly as she yelled at him and the evidence is too damning. 

Kevin’s call down at the station is Michael. He doesn’t answer.

Believe Me Natalie

You left the station now to the floor With speculation, what was it for? In that old hallway Mom says why don't you stay You've been away for a long time

Kevin tries to explain to Gwen’s mother but in desperation shifts some of the blame of Gwen’s fate on to Natalie. 

All These Things I’ve Done

Another head aches Another heart breaks I'm so much older Than I can take

Gwen didn’t trust Mike Morningstar as far as she could throw him, if at all, so she felt she could be forgiven for immediately going on high alert when she spotted his familiar shape on top of one of the university buildings. Yes, it had been over six months since she’d last seen him, but in the few years they’d known each other he had proven himself to be dangerous, cunning, and single-minded. Of course, then, she was going to call Ben, proclaim an emergency (she could handle Mike on her own if she had to, but it was far from a good idea), and wait so they could climb onto the roof together along with Ben’s new partner.

He hardly even seemed to notice, which made them only further suspicious.

“What are you doing here,” Ben asked as soon as his feet hit roofing tile, always the more impulsive of the cousins. Mike just made a huffing noise through his nose, staring out over the courtyard with his fingers tapping on the roof.

“Trying to get a date,” he said, nearly spat, which threw both Tennysons off- he was normally much too put together for that, “which last I checked was perfectly legal.”

The very concept of Mike trying to get a date sent up red flags for the cousins. His flirting was generally a prelude to vampirism, but then normally he was actually flirting. Not sat on a roof just, moping? Plotting? They couldn’t tell for sure from the back. Wanting more information, Gwen stepped cautiously forward. She’d have almost called his expression a pout had he not looked so determined, so focused, and when she followed his gaze she was forced to do a double take.

He was staring directly at one of the trees in the courtyard, and sat in it was a boy with which she shared several classes. Gwen didn’t know his name, but she knew he had plenty of admirers in the school despite his bad attitude and sharp tongue thanks to his tall, broad build, handsome face, and dedication to the arts. Under duress she might have even admitted to being among those ranks, which- as far as she was concerned- completely answered the question of why Mike would be paying him such mind. He didn’t generally try to raise her ire like this, but it wasn’t like his normal m.o. had been working, and anyway he was quickly succeeding.

“He can do far better than you,” she said, glaring at him. Like maybe a tapeworm, that’d probably be a better partner. Mike just rolled his eyes.

“Hence the ‘try’, yes.” For the first time he turned to actually look at them. “Do none of you have lives you could be living rather than bothering me?”

“Congrats,” Ben said, approaching them with Rook in tow, “that’s the most hypocritical thing anyone has ever said.” He craned to see what their attention was on. “Are you really trying to tell us you came here for a brunet in glasses?” Mike huffed again.

“I came here,” he said, “to cannibalize your cousin. I’m not doing that because of a brunet in glasses.” Air turning haughty, he turned back to watching the boy read. “You may want to thank him for that.”

“You are not attacking Gwendolyn,” Rook said, visibly as confused as the Tennysons were suspicious, “because you are busy trying to get a date with this man?”

“I’m not saying it was an easy decision-” Gwen wasn’t sure it was a decision he’d made at all, this was probably some attempt to lull them into a false sense of security. If nothing else she didn’t think Mike was capable of enough genuine emotion for that. “-but I figure it’s a long-term investment.”

“A long-term investment.” Mike, Gwen’d have almost called the noise he made a sigh if the idea of him sighing wasn’t antithesis to her prior experiences with him.

“He’s made it clear I can pursue power or him,” he said quietly, causing Gwen’s jaw to drop at the very idea that he may be on speaking terms with a guy she’d heard say five words outside of class, “and so far I tend to lose power when I pursue it. At least pursuing him I’m guaranteed something.” She just stared at him, face twisted in a combination of confusion and suspicion that Ben mirrored.

“Should we really be having this discussion when Rad’s not here?” The living room went quiet, everyone taking a moment to look amongst themselves, a silent bid for agreement. Argit was the one to break the silence, burying his fingers in Ken’s hair nonchalantly.

“Given he’s home three months out of the year at most? Yes.” Ken rolled his eyes and sat up for a brief moment before deciding, fuck it, he was comfy, and setting his head back in Manny’s lap. The floor wasn’t the softest thing to sit on, but there wasn’t room left on the couch, he didn’t want to sit alone, and Ossy shit or no curling up with Alan and Cooper would always be awkward for him.

“I just think, this is the sort’ve discussion we should have the entire family for.”

“He’s got a point,” Alan added, curled up in Cooper’s lap in one of the armchairs, “it doesn’t seem right.”

“Right my ass,” Argit shot back, “he doesn’t hang around long enough for discussions.” Ken patted Argit’s leg while Kevin fiddled with one of his ears soothingly. Yeah Rad sometimes shared Kevin with them (really everyone shared Kevin- except for Alan, obviously, given the whole uncle & nephew thing) but he came home for Argit and their mutual partner sometimes got aggravated at just how much time he spent off on jobs. As it was, he shook the two of them off and jabbed a finger at Cooper. “How long are you willing to wait for kids?”

Cooper went quiet and looked at Manny, who did the same. Both had the same contemplative look on their faces. For about twelve seconds.

“The rat has a point.”

“He really does.” Scowling, Alan elbowed Cooper.

“We are not planning children without the entire nesting here, damnit!”

“Oh come on, we didn’t even see him last time he was home! He walked in, locked himself away with Argit for a few hours, and then left again!”

“Still!” A put-upon groan came from Manny’s other side and Mike patted Ken’s shoulder as he stood up.

“Take my seat,” he said. “You already know where I stand on kids, and I’m not even getting involved in this argument- he’s no man of mine- so I’m gonna go grab a snack.” Kevin perked up.

“Grab me a beer?”

“And me?”

“Soda’d be nice…” Ken and Alan bit back laughter as the others turned to Mike expectantly, even as he crossed his arms and glowered at them.

“Do I look like a waiter?”

“Yes.”

“Shut up. Should I be taking notes on your orders?” Even Ken threw the puppy-eyes at him, and he was very good at the puppy-eyes. Mike sighed. “What do you want?”

“Just the beer.”

“And some sodas.”

“Maybe a bag of chips?”

“Ooo, and that bag of jerky I have above the fridge, if you could, doll?”

“And pizza!”

“Michael Jeremy Morningstar if you order him pizza I will hurt you.”

Cooper rolled his eyes so hard at that his whole head moved and threw Mike a grin.

“There’s a frozen one in the second chest freezer downstairs.” Also rolling his eyes, Mike nodded and left the room as Kevin gaped like a man stabbed by his own kin.

“You brought a frozen pizza into my house-”

“Oh chill, Kev,” Alan said, “they need something to eat when we aren’t around.”

“If they really loved us, they’d starve.” Trying not to smile, Manny threw an arm around Kevin’s shoulders, Argit abandoning him to settle in on Ken’s lap instead. “Disloyal blasphemers, the lot of you.”

“Yeah yeah, we’re the worst family you could’ve ever had, at least we’re not Tennysons.”

“Hey!” Ken glowered up at Manny, Argit’s hand going back into his hair.

“You don’t count, Sisriih, you abandoned them to join the Levin-Jones family, remember?”

“It’s the principle of the thing.” He shook his head. “Anyway, that’s another reason to have Rad here, none of you can tell me you don’t want the name ‘Dudesman’ on our kids and we can’t do that without involving him in more than making them.” An indecisive murmur went up, spreading across the room, though Manny just shrugged.

“Mike and I have already discussed it,” he said, “at least one daughter is going to be ‘Manuela Micheline Morningstar’ or so help us.” Again, the room went quiet.

Then Alan nearly fell off Cooper’s lap from laughing too hard. His husband just heaved a sigh and stared at the ceiling, muttering something Ken couldn’t hear under his breath. Meanwhile he and Argit shook their heads, Ken himself fighting back a smile as he did. Kevin, Kevin just stared at his laughing Manny with such a painfully unimpressed, disbelieving look that nobody was really surprised when he slipped out of his grip and headed for the other end of the couch.

“Move over, you two,” he said, forcing himself between them and the arm of the couch, making the whole lot shuffle down as he did, “only decent men I have left.” Argit grinned back at him.

“Well you had to have at least one.”

“It’s just a shame,” Cooper added in, “that we have to lose like a third of our family. If you don’t mind, Kev, since I’m about to be painfully available...” Alan took no notice of this, too busy still laughing with Manny and also too experienced to think Cooper’d drop him over anything less than the heat death of the universe, while Kevin reached out for the blond sympathetically.

“We’re here for you, Coop.”

“You won’t go through this trial alone,” Argit added.

“Thank guys,” Cooper said, pressing a hand to his heart melodramatically- really they all spent too much time with Mike- “it’s nice to know somebody is good and just in this household.” Ken snorted.

“Let’s not go too far. Think Alan and I are the only ones in this house without a record.” Cooper opened his mouth only for Alan to clamp his hand over it.

“Or deserve it.” He snatched his hand back to reveal Cooper’s tongue out and ready, though he still looked fond when he turned to Ken. “Are we sure we even want kids with these guys?” Ken heaved a heavy, put-upon sign, shaking his head even as he wrapped an arm around Argit’s waist.

He’d known Mike was up to something. It wasn’t difficult to figure out. For all the man could be brilliant, he was very predictable, and kicking Kevin out of the apartment meant, nine times out of ten, that he was up to something. Kevin just hadn’t expected this.

The kitchen looked immaculate, though it smelled of smoke, and Kevin was immediately suspicious even before Mike all but shoved him into a seat at the table. There was nothing he could do but watch as he began laying platters of food out. Beef wellington, bourbon-glazed vegetables, anna potatoes, spinach bread, all looking suspiciously edible for things Kevin knew damn well he hadn’t taught the man to make. Yet, not quite edible enough to have been purchased. Once the food was laid out, Mike dropped elegantly into his lap, arm draping around his neck.

“Praise me.”

“It all looks very classy,” Kevin said, letting his arms rest around his waist. “How much of my cookware did you ruin in the failed attempts?” With his free hand, Mike began piling food on the dinner plate in front of them.

“Did you want one potato or two?”

“One, I get the feeling I’ll want a lot of the vegetables. That’d be all my cookware then?”

“Really, Daffodil, would I ruin all your cookware? Today?” Well that was a stupid question.

“Yes.” A slice of the wellington went on the plate.

“You are incredibly ungrateful.” Snickering, Kevin repositioned Mike until he could settle his head in the crook of his neck.

“Thank you, babe, for making dinner. You are very lovely, and very talented, and I still expect you to replace whatever you fucked up.”

“Bastard,” Mike grumbled, elbowing him in the gut- for all the good it did, even with his enhanced strength. “If this is how you’re going to be, let me up and I’ll go tend to my own dinner.”

“Oh no,” Kevin said with a toothy grin, “clearly you can’t be trusted not to set the kitchen on fire or something.” He leaned back and brought Mike with him. “You’re going to have to stay right here.” The blonde rolled his eyes, but chuckled, and began using his powers to bring his plate over from the other side of the table and load it down.

“I don’t deserve this sort’ve treatment you know.”

“Mm-hm.”

“I’m a good person.”

“If you say so.” Apparently, that was too much for the game, because that was where Mike gave up and just kissed him.

“You’re not getting dessert you know,” he muttered into Kevin’s mouth after a few quality ones.

“Oh?”

“I made a lemon bar cheesecake.”

“Oh damn, I really don’t deserve you.” With another, softer, laugh, Mike shook his head and threw his other arm around Kevin’s neck, going in for a deeper kiss.

He’d never expected Mike to propose. Why should he have? Someone like Gwen, yes, eventually they were going to legally latch themselves onto somebody, but Mike? He’d never seemed the type. He had been, as far as Kevin could tell, perfectly happy to be in a position where getting tired of the way things were wouldn’t mean dragging in lawyers or anything to change course. And Kevin had been fine with that. If he hadn’t then he wouldn’t have bothered keeping up the relationship. It was cool.

But he had.

Which had been so fucking confusing.

Literally Mike’d sat there for ten minutes getting more and more aggravated at not getting an answer while Kevin had been shifting his worldview enough to acknowledge the question.

Really, they were probably the only couple in Bellwood who could get into a yelling match over a welcomed marriage proposal.

It should’ve been considered a sign.

~~

“Mike, babe, what the fuck?”

There was not a square inch of flat surface free in the Morningstar livingroom that wasn’t floor. Everywhere was calendars and books and papers and a stack of pizza boxes Kevin was very tempted to set on fire just to make a point. Domino’s, really, as if he couldn’t make him better asleep and half-dead.

“I’m trying to figure out a date for the wedding.” Mike didn’t even bother to look up, instead glowering at a list of dates like it had personally offended him. Kevin just shook his head, leaning over the back of the couch and draping his arms over his shoulders.

“Without me?”

“I was going to give you final pick when I find the best days.”

“Of course you were.” Rolling his eyes, Kevin plopped his chin onto Mike’s hair and began scanning the list. It looked to be covering the next few years, for all that there weren’t that many dates on it. “Just how long were you intending us to stay engaged, by the way?” Mike shrugged.

“I’d prefer to the married within the year, but the Miramonte is more heavily booked than I’d like for the next few. We could probably get Ocean Bleu though, which isn’t quite what I’d like but your mother’s family could get there easier. Or there’s the Cedar Lakes Estate, but that’s so… rustic.” That last word was said in about the same tone Gwen had used when she found out they were dating in the first place. This did not stop Kevin from glancing at the relevant booklets Mike gestured to and crinkling his nose.

“You realize we could just have the whole thing at Kay’s place, or at the farmhouse.” Mike turned to him with a look like he’d suggested getting married in a sewer, which he might out of spite.

“I am not getting married on a farm.”

“Why not? They’re perfectly good farms, pretty, got plenty of space, and we don’t need to worry about when venues will be available.”

“I am worth 237 million dollars,” Mike said haughtily, “you’re worth the cost of a small planet, we are not getting married on a farm. What next, do you want a cow to officiate?” Kevin punched him in the shoulder. “We’re getting married in all the finery you deserve.”

For a brief, shining moment Kevin wasn’t aggravated. What he deserved, specifically. He loved these instances where Mike’s attitude, all pride and vanity and narcissism, slipped just enough to show how he held him in high regard as well. It was sweet. It was romantic. It did not mean he was giving in.

“Consider- I don’t want chandeliers and crystal and shit. It’s a waste of money for what’s gonna take up a weekend at best.” Mike leaned forward and turned to face him.

“Consider- suck it up, you’re getting it anyway.”

“No.”

“Yes.” Kevin glowered at Mike. Mike glowered right back. Neither backed down. Really, fancy venues, they didn’t even know enough people to fill one of these venues, and it’d probably be a bitch to get the catering crews to do the amount of food they’d need.

“Look, we’ll get married at one of the mansions-”

“No, then people will think we couldn’t rent a place.” Oh good fuck. Biting back a growl, Kevin took a deep breathe and turned his attention back to the list of dates. That couldn’t be nearly as aggravating as this. It couldn’t.

“Why isn’t the Winter Solstice on there,” he asked, “that’s a good day for weddings.” It was the day for weddings, among Osmosians. Still, Mike shook his head.

“We celebrate your birthday on the solstice, whether it is or not-” Another Osmosian thing “-and it’s bad luck to get married on your birthday.” Kevin blinked.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okaaay,” he took a deep breath, “and since when were you the superstitious sort?”

“Since now.”

There just, there were no words.

~~

In the end they settled on a Wednesday in August, which Mike swore backwards and forth was the best possible combination. More specifically one a few years in the coming.

Kevin had a grim suspicion that they’d need the time.

~~

“I’m sorry, let me rephrase, we will not, under any circumstances, be having a potluck wedding reception.” He was impossible, Kevin swore it.

“And why not?”

“It isn’t done.”

“It is by my family.”

“Your family can’t afford catering, or else it wouldn’t be.” Which wasn’t entirely wrong, but he would eat his own tongue before he admitted it.

“You don’t even like other people’s food,” he replied instead. “You can’t even taste it most of the time, half the pack has adjusted their recipes for you!” Mike just kept that easy ‘I’m right and you aren’t smart enough to know it’ look he got from time to time up on his face.

“So we’ll take that into account when we choose our caterer,” he said. “Maybe Indian food or something.

“Why though, when we can just as easily get family and friends to handle the whole thing, and not have to pay out the ass?” Heaving a sigh, Mike looked up at the kitchen ceiling like Kevin was the one being unreasonable.

“Because we can pay for someone else to do it and not have to worry ourselves and our guests. Plus, the food will look better.” It would’ve been very easy for Kevin to argue that nothing looked as good as Casey’s mutton ribs, except maybe the man across from him, but he didn’t. There were more important factors.

“And what about diet shit?” That got Mike to stop, gently setting his spoon back in his bowl. “Argit, Ken, and Pierce can’t have chocolate, Ben can’t be in the same room as peanuts, I can’t have anything that’s been in contact with strawberry and neither can a decent number of my relatives. If family’s doing the cooking I know I don’t have to worry about any of that, but all it takes is one person with only half a brain cell to fuck that up with outsiders.”

Mike went quiet, lips sinking into a frown and brow furrowing like maybe, just maybe, Kevin had a point. It was guaranteed the very thought would have him sulking until dessert. He closed his eyes and took, then released, a deep breath.

“I’d still rather get catering,” he said, quietly, “but if it would make you happy, then we’ll see about getting somebody we can pay enough to not pitch a fit if your family brings in food too.” Victory. A small victory, but still. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, Kevin leaned over the table to plant a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Thanks, babe. Sounds like a plan.”

~~

They had three more arguments about venues before finally settling on one. Mike wanted elegant and upscale, someplace people would talk about. Kevin wanted homey and down-to-earth (and preferably cheap). In the end they’d settled on a middle ground, moving the wedding out of the county and to the Morningstar’s household in Italy.

Apparently, upon bringing his new wife and son over to the states, Greggory Morningstar had noted how she missed their homeland and had the house built for her so she could pick up and visit whenever she wished. He also apparently bought her a plane, and Kevin thought the whole thing as ridiculous as it was romantic. Michael just seemed too damn proud of his grandfather’s actions.

Proud enough he started a whole new argument by asking if Kevin wanted him to build him a house.

~~

“Why am I marrying into money, this is a horrible idea.”

“Because you’re a golddigger until the bitter end.”

“Fuck, you’re right.”

“Also I’m pretty.”

“That too.”

~~

Helen and Elena had wisely left the room fifteen minutes ago, and were probably continuing in their quest to help throw this wedding together so Mike didn’t drive himself mad and Kevin didn’t kill him.

Back in the dining room though, both men were on their feet, teeth bared and chins lowered, all but growling at each other.

They had been in this position for, you guessed it, fifteen minutes.

It turned out their ideas of décor, which had seemed to meld so well before when they were just leaving their marks on each other’s homes, were not surviving the wedding process. Again, Mike wanted flashy and elegant (tacky, he wanted tacky, why couldn’t he stop throwing money around for five minutes-) while Kevin wanted earthy and simple (cheap, neither of them were on the streets anymore they could afford to indulge in nice things-).

“Okay boys,” Helen said as she strode back in, ignoring the tension- she’d known these two since she was quite literally born, she was used to it- and dropping a small stack of books on the table between them, “Elena and I have figured something out. First off, we’ve decided on greys, golds, and blues for your colors. Shut up.” Both men closed their mouths before even getting the chance to speak. “They’re what look best on you both and you’d argue about it just to argue. Anyway, we’ve got a plan, we’re gonna handle it, we just need you boys to pick some flowers that’ll work.” She patted the stack, which a quick glance proved to be on the topic.

“We don’t care if you do them together or apart, just get us at least four to work off and don’t kill each other. I’ve already got a dress bought and I’m not wasting it because you’re stupid.” Neither of them answered, but when she rolled her eyes and left Kevin stuck his tongue out at her back.

If nothing else it made Mike bite back a laugh.

~~

They split the job. Mike chose daffodils and false indigo, which meant Kevin had to scrap his plan to choose daffodils. (He should’ve known anyway, given how fond Mike was of them.) Instead he went with irises and tulips, and if it was because the idea of tulips for a later summer wedding seemed so very Michael to him, well, it wasn’t like anyone was going to ask.

Thankfully, they all really worked surprisingly well together.

~~

“So,” Kevin asked one evening while they hung out on his couch, “what are we doing with your uncle?”

“What do you mean?” Mike didn’t take his eyes off his game, but his shoulders tensed under Kevin’s arm. He pulled it back enough to be able to massage one.

“Are we inviting him or- I mean I know you guys’ relationship is… weird, right now but…” ‘But everyone on the list so far is either a mutual friend or someone there for me.’ Mike was quiet for a moment, then paused his game.

“Do you think we should?” Kevin shrugged.

“I think I’d have to start shaming the Tennysons into not flipping their shit tomorrow if we do,” he said. “I mean their history with him is as bad as it is with me, possibly worse given I never tried to kill either of their moms.” Mike groaned under his breath. “But he’s your uncle, and if you want him there…” He shrugged again, but threw up a grin and nudged Mike’s shoulder.

“If you want him there, I’ll drag him to Italy myself if I have to.” Quietly chuckling, Mike leaned against him.

“I think,” he said slowly, like he was rolling the idea in his head, “I’m more likely to regret not inviting him someday than I am to regret inviting him. Besides, if anyone is going to go all out to celebrate my wedding, it’ll be him.” Kevin chuckled.

“Given he tried to kidnap you when we were three because he loved you so much, I’m not surprised.”

“Excuse me,” Mike replied, smiling, “he did not try to kidnap me. He succeeded in kidnapping me. And given how my stepmother turned out I don’t think he can be blamed.” There was no way Kevin could really argue there.

“Still, I’m glad our dads tracked you down. He really doesn’t sound like the type who should be raising children.”

“Oh fuck no,” Mike said. “Maybe he can come babysit on occasion, but we’re definitely not leaving our kids to him or anything.” Not that they’d ever really agreed to have kids (they’d agreed it seemed likely to happen at some point, given how Kevin’s family was, but not to have them specifically) but Kevin still nodded. It wasn’t a discussion for now.

“Oh no, we leave them to Argit.”

~~

After another four arguments Mike got permission to build Kevin a house up in New England, closer to his mother’s relatives. In return, two other Morningstar properties were being converted into a foster care center and housing for families traveling in pursuit of healthcare for mutant children.

Mike accepted the terms as soon as he got them.

~~

“Cookies, pie, or something else?”

“What?” Rolling out from under his car, Kevin looked up to see Mike standing there with one of the notepads he seemed to have an endless supply of lately.

“I assume you don’t want us to have a cake, so what do you think we should have instead? I want to say cookies but that seems…”

“Inelegant.” Kevin had been at this long enough at this point to hear that word ringing in his dreams anymore. Still, he smiled at Mike’s remembering how he felt about cake and sat up, crossing his arms over his legs. “You want pie then?”

“Unless you can think of something else. Croquembouche maybe. It would be traditional, but given how many children are likely to be at this I’d worry about it being damaged.”

“And pies won’t suffer from that,” Kevin chuckled.

“They’re not likely to topple over at any point.”

“They will if we stack them high enough.” His bright smile was met with a glower, which was really the goal with that one. Sometimes getting a rise out of Mike was fun.

“Don’t start, Kevin. I just want to know what you think.” Kevin took a minute the think it over, rising to his feet with a long stretch and stepping over to rest his head against Mike’s, ignoring the resultant complaints about mussing his hair.

“Order your pastry tower,” he said, “I’ll ask the fam to make pies and tarts and we’ll just, form a protective ring of them.” With a snorting laugh, Mike shook his head.

“Alright, sure.” He raised an eyebrow at Kevin in a way that might have been stern if he wasn’t smiling. “If this thing gets knocked over though-”

“You can skin me alive, I’ll deserve it.” Pressing a quick kiss to his lips, Kevin backed up. “Was that all you needed, babe?” Purring, Mike nodded.

“I think so, for now at least. Thank you, Daffodil.”

~~

“What do you mean ‘no’?! You’ve spent the past year and a half insisting this be the most posh, elegant wedding ever on the planet Earth and now you don’t want me in fucking formalwear?!” He was gonna kill him, right here in a tailor shop he was going to kill him.

“You look awkward,” Mike snapped by way of explanation, “and weird dressed like that, like someone put jeans on a swan! Just-” He stepped forward and began wrestling Kevin out of his outfit. “-take off the jacket- There! That looks right!” He didn’t look in the mirror. He refused. Over a year of fighting him, and losing half the time, on the topic of how elegant this whole affair should be and now, now Mike decided there was a line.

He was gonna kill him.

Even if it felt nice to lose the extra fabric around his neck.

“And what, pray tell, are you going to wear then?”

“The full suit, obviously.” Yep gonna kill him. “I look good in it and you…” Reaching out, Mike adjusted his collar and tie. Smoothed out the fabric over his chest and arms. “You look better like this.”

“Do I now?” Some old bit of Kevin’s brain swore that if this was some attempt to make him look unkempt, out of place, at his own damn wedding just to make his bastard shine more he would- Mike leaned in and kissed him.

“You look like you,” he said when he pulled away, then gave the outfit a critical eye. “We’ll just have to make up for the jacket with the jewelry.”

~~

Kevin stared into the velvet-lined box in his hands. There was just, everything in there. Earrings, noserings, cufflinks, if it was a piece of jewelry he could physically wear it was there. And white sapphires, the lot of it. (“I know how you feel about the diamond industry, Levin.”) He just, didn’t know what to say. He’d never legally held this many gemstones in his hands before. Forget hundreds, there had to be thousands of dollars’ worth of jewels there.

“Mike, I-”

“Kevin Ethan Levin-Jones, I swear if I get to the altar and you aren’t fucking sparkling with all this I am going to turn around and come right the fuck back home.” Oh. Well then. He chuckled and grinned up at him.

“Whatever you want, babe.”

~~

The coffeetable was littered with papers containing every possible combination of their first and last names. And relatives’ last names. And Mike’s clan name which it turned out didn’t work with anything. Because apparently the fates hated them.

“I’m telling you, ‘Kevin Morningstar’ works the best out of the lot.”

“Yeah but do I want to be associated with that level of wealth?” Mike looked at him askance.

“It’s not like we’re the fucking Bezos family.”

“Still.”

“Besides, you could get rid of that stupid pun. Honestly, I’m still pissed you didn’t get rid of it when you changed your name. Kevin E Levin, really, only you would make your name worse.”

“What can I say, I’m my father’s child.”

“You’re not making puns out of my children, you know.”

“We’ll see about that.” Shifting some papers, Kevin chewed the inside of his cheek. “‘Michael Levin-Jones’ doesn’t sound bad.” Mike groaned beside him.

“No, but it doesn’t sound as good as ‘Michael Morningstar’ does.”

“That’s just because of the alliteration. Besides, that way Argit wouldn’t have to kill me for changing my name after he legally snatched it up.”

“He can deal.” Kevin shook his head with a heavy sigh, dropping it onto Mike’s shoulder.

“We are going to be here forever,” he said, which only seemed to aggravate his fiancé.

“No, we are going to figure something out if I have to pull a name from a goddamn hat.”

~~

In the end, somehow, probably thanks to the girls, it turned out to be a nice wedding.

The house was lovely, large enough that family could take over the kitchens but not huge, with nice landscaping and a lovely view of the Mediterranean that they’d used as a backdrop for the ceremony and pictures. Kevin did feel more comfortable without the jacket and found himself unable to argue about clothing choices when Mike showed up in full formalwear, mostly because he was too busy alternating between staring and trying to discreetly swat Ben and Argit for laughing at him. The traitors.

The ceremony was as lovely as was to be expected given Kevin had puppy-eyed Zak into officiating and Mike had written half the damn thing. Multiple people had cried, including Kevin himself. The rings had been revealed, homemade by Kevin, at which point everything seemed to hit Mike and he nearly cried. They had to do the whole ‘you may kiss the groom’ thing twice, purely because Kevin couldn’t resist being a shit and littering Mike’s face with the kisses the first time, but they were both smiling after and Manny fell down laughing so nobody could really argue against it.

Besides, any embarrassment it may have caused Mike’s poor battered pride was overshadowed at the reception, when Mr Zomboni decided to make a toast and speech detailing some of the embarrassing things they both did as toddlers before bursting into tears again as how grown up his dear nephew was.

Was a lovely reception though, Helen and Elena outdid themselves. Everything in crystal and flowers, steel, gold, and chains. Elegant enough that Mike could bear to attend (cue eye roll) and mellow enough Kevin didn’t feel out of place at his own damn wedding. And the food was spectacular, even- Kevin hated to admit- the catered stuff, though he happily noted, aloud, that Mike ate more of the home cooking on offer.

After his bitching he was never living it down.

All in all it was, good.

Right.

Perfect.

~~

“Ya know,” Kevin said, quietly because they were both suffering from monster hangovers post-reception, “I’m just amazed we survived this long. I was sure we were going to kill each other.” With a tiny huff, Mike burrowed further into his side, face slotted against his collarbone.

“Couldn’t kill you,” he mumbled, “spent too much on that damn engagement ring to waste it.” Kevin snorted a quick laugh, flinching when his headache didn’t agree with it.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, pressing a kiss to his hair, “love you too, Sparkles.” Mike huffed louder this time, throwing one arm over his face and around Kevin’s head as he mumbled something into his skin.

There was bacon on the table and that was reason enough for Mike and Manny to not even sit down.

“Um, Daffodil? Dearheart?”

“Are you okay?” There wasn’t bacon in this house. There was never bacon in the house. There wasn’t pork period. Between Kevin and Manny it wasn’t allowed. The fact none of the others were concerned, simply rolling their eyes at them and taking full advantage of the boon, meant nothing. Cooper would eat anything, Argit was weird, and Ken just followed Argit’s lead, which left them to make sure Kevin wasn’t ill, or had finally been hogtied and thrown in a closet by Alan.

“I’m fine,” Kevin called from the kitchen as he stepped into the doorframe, leaning his shoulder against it. “Something wrong?”

“They’re scared of the bacon,” Cooper said before either of them could answer, mouth stuffed with the stuff.

“Pansies, the both of them,” Argit added, earning himself a glower.

“Excuse us,” Mike said, hand over his heart, “for being the only ones who care enough to worry about our man’s wellbeing.” Again, they all rolled their eyes, Kevin biting back a chuckle as they did.

“It’s lamb bacon,” he said, “from the ones we slaughtered back in spring.” For Mike this was good enough, and practically dove into the seat to rectify the nine torturous hours he’d gone without food. Manny was a bit harder, still eyeing the quickly vanishing pile like it might bite him.

“So it’s fine?”

“Yes, dumbass, it’s fine.” Kevin stepped far enough into the dining room to pull Manny down for a quick kiss, leaving a handprint in flour on the back of his neck. “You know I wouldn’t serve you pork, or venison, or any of the other shit you don’t eat.” Manny grumbled his assent as he took his seat.

“Still would’ve been nice to be told.” At those words Kevin sent Argit a heated look. Which made sense, if anyone was going to have a clue… In the ten years they’d known each other those two had kept maybe three secrets in total. It was a testament to those years that Argit was completely unphased.

“I assumed,” he said in his most ‘as the second oldest person in this building I am disappointed in you children’ tone, “that they had enough faith in you to figure you could be trusted with their food. Apparently, I was wrong.” Everyone, including Kevin, rolled their eyes. Alan was probably rolling his eyes back in the kitchen.

“You’re all disasters,” Kevin said, heading back to whatever he was making in there, “I don’t know why I keep any of you.” Neither could any of the rest of them, thankfully, so at least they were on the same page. Manny started piling his plate with fish, eggs, and fruit. Mike put a small handful of the bacon on it for him.

“It’s good, trust me.” And he would know, he’d already put it on a breakfast sandwich and was eating it while moving everything on the table over by their seats. “Pretty sure that was another part of Argit’s revenge for not doing those Tasks he set us.” Manny groaned, rolling his eyes again and biting into a persimmon.

“I don’t know what he expected from us, really. I’m pretty sure cloudberries aren’t even a real thing.” Mike snorted.