Just finished responding to the last of my Cleaving comments, and suffering a bit of a drop from putting this ‘verse to bed. So thought I’d share some of the picspiration that spans the series, most of which never made it into a mood board. That last one is post-series canon.
Bleary!verse montage…the start of it all
Just finished responding to the last of my Cleaving comments, and suffering a bit of a drop from putting this ‘verse to bed. So thought I’d share some of the picspiration that spans the series, most of which never made it into a mood board. That last one is post-series canon.
From the last chapter of Cleaving (and the last chapter of Bleary!verse ever):
The car wove through the neighborhood of Oakland and headed downtown, trees and parks giving way to highrises. Zach had been so focused on the ceremony, he honestly had no idea what came next. A few days alone with Chris holed up in a hotel, followed by a few days back at his mom’s. Then he was back to LA and Chris was off to do press for Hours and then he had to clear his schedule and pack for the cottage in Cornwall. And that was exciting, but the idea of flying transcontinental alone with Nathan was a little terrifying. He’d have to call—
“You’re thinking too loud,” Chris said, dropping a kiss on his head.
“I just feel like I’m forgetting something. I haven’t really thought through what happens next, and — oh shit. Our bag. We forgot our clothes.”
“Relax. The room’s actually in Dad’s name. We checked in and dropped everything off on the way in this morning. I’ve got the key cards. We don’t have to worry about the front desk or being recognized.”
Zach sat up, surprised.
“I had a few things to set up. And it was basically on the way. It didn’t make me late for the ceremony,” Chris added.
“What did you have to set up?” Zach asked as the car pulled into a semi-circular drive of a very familiar hotel. “You got us a room here?”
Chris just squeezed his hand and moved to get out of the car, thanking their driver. Zach collected the picnic basket and followed, letting Chris lead him through the doors to the elevator, and then up to the twenty-second floor, and down the hall to a very familiar door.
Chris let them in, and Zach felt a little like he was coming home.
It was the same suite they’d shared the first two weeks of Nathan’s
life, but instead of the common room being covered in bottles and baby
gear and books on what to expect in the first year, every horizontal
surface was scattered with collections of vases holding flowers like those from their
wedding. In the middle of the room, on the round glass dining table
that they had never eaten at when they were here with Nathan, a bottle of Prosecco sat chilling in a silver bucket.
“Who hasn’t made it?” Zach asked. He could hear the murmur of voices and music in the next room, and excitement spiked through his gut like he was about to go on stage for the first time. He patted his pockets again to make sure the rings, envelope, and notecard with his vows hadn’t miraculously vanished during the drive.
Barbara looked down at the tablet in her hand. “Salada plus three,” she answered. “But they’ve texted to say they’re en route. The kids slowed them down.”
“Well, that happens. Chris and his family made it?”
Barbara smiled. “They’re in the Fern Room with Helen. She asked that I keep you and your family here and she’ll be joining you in a minute. Can I get you anything to drink while we wait? Water? Glass of wine?”
“Water please,” Margo said, taking Zach’s elbow again. “I need to be able to say my line nice and clearly.”
Zach squeezed his mom’s hand against his arm. Wine was tempting, but had a tendency to make him giddy when he was nervous. “Water for all of us, I think,”
Joe had slipped off to speak with the photographer and returned with Barbara, the waters, and a tray of flowers.
“Boutineers for the gentlemen,” Barbara said, “And this wrist corsage for you, Mrs. Quinto.”
Joe helped Zach pin his in place after fiddling with his own, and then they both helped with Nathan’s.
“Are we all straight?” Joe asked, turning to Margo.
“I wouldn’t be marrying Chris if I were straight,” Zach offered as he lined up for inspection.
“The flowers are straight,” Margo said with a twinkle in her eye. “I’m not going to speak for the rest.”
“I sort of resent them for it now,” Zach groused, looking down at his
jacket lapel as a small laugh escaped. Oh god, he was not going to
get nervous giggles. That didn’t happen to him anymore. Ever.
On Thursday, because meetings. From Cleaving 8. If you haven’t read 7 yet, you might want to pass.
Zach made sure he had his wallet and the notecard with his vows in case he got ridiculously nervous, and then rummaged under his sweaters to retrieve a crisp, white envelope. He was hiding it in an interior pocket of his jacket when Nathan walked in.
“How are you, Little Man? Almost ready to go?”
“Nat’an fancy,” he said, pointing at his brown vest.
“You are fancy,” Zach said picking him up and straightening his newsboy cap. “How about Nonna? Is she fancy yet?”
Nathan frowned and looked over his shoulder toward the hall.
“Red.”
Zach wasn’t sure what that meant. “Go tell her 5 minutes, okay? Like this.” He splayed all of Nathan’s fingers. “Five.”
From Cleaving 8… might want to skip if you haven’t read 7 yet…
“Zach!”
Zach gave himself one last look in the mirror over the sink, smoothing his hair before turning to cross the hall.
“What’s wro—”
He stopped in his tracks, struck by the view of Chris in his suit. The golden tan complemented his coloring perfectly and the cut of the jacket emphasized broad shoulders and narrow hips, and Christ he looked good. Zach was suddenly glad they hadn’t tried to keep the tradition of not seeing each other before the ceremony. Because his reaction? Not something that he’d want to have both their mothers witness. He subtly adjusted himself as he moved forward to where Chris was focused on his own reflection, fingers messing with his collar.
“I can’t get the tie straight,” Chris said. “I don’t want it to look like crap in the pictures.”
Huffing a laugh, Zach nudged Chris’ hands out of the way. “Let me.”
He untied the knot and started again, nimbly fixing the tie while saying with a small smile, “I’m definitely in charge of teaching Nathan how to do this. You have some sort of complex.”
“I can manage when you’re not around, but for some reason if you are, I’m all thumbs.”
“You just like the help,” Zach suggested, making a final adjustment and kissing Chris’ cheek before stepping back. “Better?”
Chris glanced back at the mirror and nodded. “Thanks.” He fiddled with his hair, now, trying to brush the Steve Trevor bangs out of his face and losing the battle with gravity. “I wish I could cut my hair, though,” he added.
“I don’t,” Zach answered simply. “I like the bangs.” He leaned in and whispered, “Gives me something to hang onto later.” Chris’ breath hitched as Zach pulled back. “You look great. Delicious, actually. Perfect.”
Chris eyes roamed his face, relief and love and humor and something more solemn in his expression. “Good. And you, as always… this turned out even better than I’d hoped,” he said, running a finger along his lapel. “I’m so glad you got them. Can you believe in another hour or two—”
The doorbell rang.
“That’ll be your folks to drive you.” He leaned forward and gave
Chris a chaste but lingering kiss. “Better get downstairs before I make
you very, very late.”
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