InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "We still kill the old way."

Phil looked at the array of cakes in front of them, reaching for a second bite of the lemon sponge with raspberry filling. He was pretty sure that they couldn’t make a bad decision. Besides, even the process of spending a Saturday afternoon on the patio of a restaurant overlooking the Pacific and eating good food with the love of his life was wonderful. He might even need to ask for more samples.

Reaching over, his thumb swiped at a bit of frosting at the corner of Matt’s mouth before licking it off. “I have to say, we might need multiple cakes, not sure if I can decide on just one flavor.”

Even though Matt couldn't see the colors of the cakes, he had an idea of their shape and, of course, their smells. More than that, he was acutely aware of Phil's reactions to each one they tried. The way his heart rate would jump with pleasure, his scent curling with a pleased spice—Matt may as well have left the entire thing to his husband-to-be and just sat back as a very satisfied spectator. But he wouldn't shirk his responsibilities, even if it was for something as simple as a cake tasting.

Phil didn't make matters easy with his little thumb-to-lip display. Matt's nostrils flared before he could tamp down on his reaction. Namely the one that involved dragging Phil inside and despoiling him in the restroom. "It's also about the quantity of guests that will probably show up, but I'll lobby for every single flavor that makes you have that reaction anyway. Do you have a top three, because I don't think I'm going to be much help on narrowing it down. My only request is no fondant. Please."

Matt’s reaction was enough to make Phil lick his lips and tempted him to smear frosting on his fiance and lick it off. He made a mental note to have a separate cake sent to their hotel suite for the wedding night. Or maybe just a tub of frosting? “Probably better to have more cake than less. I’m sure any leftover cake won’t go to waste at Beale Street.”

Phil laughed at Matt’s fondant request. “We are in full agreement on fondant. Buttercream or cream cheese frosting only.” Phil made a noise of contemplation as he took another bite of two other cake slices. He held out a bite of chocolate to Matt.

“I’m thinking thinking the flourless chocolate cake as one of them - which gives us a vegan and gluten free option. And then the lemon and raspberry…” Phil held out his fork to Matt again. “For the third, I’m torn between the key lime and the Hummingbird cake.”

A small chuckle rumbled out of Matt's chest. Between all the magic users, super soldiers, aliens, gods, and teenagers, he highly doubted there would be any kind of food remaining. "The most important thing is that we don't run out," he said, carrying the rest of the thought aloud. "We can never guarantee who's coming or going—and I don't just mean the wedding."

The remark, while true, sent a small pang through his chest. With everything else, it was the not knowing that was the worst. He pulled his thoughts back to the present and nodded his firm agreement about their frosting options. It was also in enough time to lean forward to accept the surprisingly rich bite of chocolate, the kind that made him hum a little with pleasure. He tried to sound completely unaffected when he continued. "I like the whipped cream type too. I forget what it's called. Italian meringue? Is that right. I think it was on the key lime, which gets my vote between the last two."

Phil added ‘make sure wedding night cake has Italian meringue’ to his mental checklist of wedding to-dos (and surprises to arrange). “Got it. Fan of whipped cream,” he repeated with a smug smile, enjoying Matt’s reaction a bit too much. Maybe they should just box up the cakes and go and email the caterer their choices.

One of Phil’s eyebrows rose at the mention of comings and goings. It was a bit unusual that two people from Matt’s life had shown up recently, right before the wedding. He silently prayed that the next arrival wouldn’t be an ex of Matt’s. Not that he thought it would derail the wedding, but it would make things complicated for a bit. “I’m glad you’ll have people from home here for the wedding, though.” His hand slid down to rest on Matt’s thigh. “How are you doing with the recent arrivals?”

Matt took up a bite of his own, half-remembering what was where, so the red velvet cake was what he expected, but still not one of his favorite. Something about the dye or the baking soda sat badly on his tongue. He grabbed his coffee and then water to cut the taste, after which he smiled a bit ruefully at Phil. "I wish Daisy could come back. Or Fitzsimmons, Mack, Yo-Yo, or"—an infinitesimal pause, because he knew enough of the history there, but it didn't matter—"May. Your friends deserve to be here too."

He sat back with a quiet sigh. "Karen and Frank?" Kind of a stupid question, because obviously. Matt just needed a moment to get his thoughts together. "Thrilled about Karen, of course. Complicated about Frank, but that's always been our particular brand of song and dance. We're never going to be besties or drinking buddies, but we understand each other on some level. Maybe not about some of the core tenets of taking care of the criminal element, but enough. Enough. He seemed surprised I wanted him to come to the reception, but it's like I said online: I'm willing to start over if he is. And now that Karen's here too? I think it's a better possibility."

Phil’s bittersweet smile matched Matt’s as he stroked the other man’s thigh, pushing the plate with the red velvet cake further away since neither of them was exceedingly fond of it. “May and I had our happy ending.” Phil had died - or had been about to - with May in Tahiti. Their time together had been short in a way, but it had spanned multiple lifetimes. “The future, I’m looking forward to building that with you.”

He leaned in and brushed his lips against Matt’s, tasting frosting and Matt. “I’m worried if I start wishing for people from home, the universe will send the wrong ones,” he teased, although there was a hint of seriousness in the tone. There were many people from his past that he did not want to see here. “Does Karen hold Frank’s leash or something?”

A grin threatened to overtake Matt's entire face. It also went warm and pleased. He never doubted Phil's feelings for him, anymore than his own absolute faith in the life they were building together, but it was nice to hear those kinds of things aloud. Matt tipped forward and briefly rested his forehead against his fiance's. He didn't let himself linger, not when there were other wedding things they needed to get to that day, not to mention home time with the boys. And their own alone time. Still, he had to say it: "I love you and our future, whatever it looks like."

His mouth twisted in a grimace of understanding. While Frank wasn't exactly in his top five list of people he'd wished for from time to time, he didn't rank anywhere near the bottom with the likes of Fisk and Madam Gao. The last bit Phil said got a genuine, if startled laugh out of him. "Let's not put that into the universe if we can help it, huh? Either of those things. I won't deny there's something there between them, but I've already decided it's their business. She does have a unique way of being able to talk him down, but I'd never say there's a leash involved. They'd both throw something at me, and I'd deserve it."

“I love you too,” Phil said, stealing another kiss before joining in Matt’s laughter. “So what I’m hearing is don’t mention it in front of them, got it.”

He knew a little something about folks who had “unique ways” and well, there was no need to pry too much on that. “Does that mean I don’t need to worry about Frank trying to kill you again?”

"Correct. For all our sakes." He loved Karen and cared about her deeply, but Matt also knew more than enough just how well she could take care of herself. And Frank? Well, frankly Matt didn't want to know anything about that man's love life. They were two adults who would figure things out all on their own, one way or another.

With a small, dry laugh, Matt shook his head. "No, I don't really see things going that far anytime soon. First, because we're on the wrong side of the country for any more of his revenge greatest hits, and second, he hasn't had time to build up his one-man militia armory. Yet. Guy like Frank Castle? Likes to be prepared, no matter what that looks like."

“I know nothing about being prepared,” Phil teased with a laugh. But it also sparked an idea in his head. “Is he always an ‘I work alone’ / doesn’t play well with others sort or do you think he’d be willing to align with my little consulting business? Could be a way of keeping tabs on him,” Phil suggested as he had another bite of cake.

"What was this one again?" He reached out tentatively toward one of the plates, finger bumping the edge before he pulled it a little more toward him. Matt, who had been right on the cusp of delivering a very decisive argument as to why this was a really bad idea, had to suddenly redirect.

"It's a lemon chiffon," the baker of their current set of cake offerings chirped as he finally made the final step up to the tableside. "My personal favorite. I snuck it in, even though it's structurally way more difficult to make a massive wedding cake out of."

Matt tipped his face toward the man and smiled. "It's so light, which makes sense. The little kick of sour hits you right at the back of your jaw, though. It's really great. All of them are fantastic. You're making this decision really difficult, Kavan. Maybe we could reserve the chiffon for one of the smaller cakes? What do you think, darling?"

Phil nudged his foot against Matt’s under the table in a Isn’t that convenient sort of gesture. “It’s excellent - they’re all exceptional.” He leaned over, taking another forkful of the lemon chiffon.

“Mmmm... let’s do the lemon chiffon for a cake for the honeymoon suite. For the reception, I think we’ll do the flourless chocolate, the lemon and raspberry, and the key lime,” he told the baker. “And no fondant.”

"Grooms who know what they like—I am living!" Matt didn't have to be able to see to know their baker was beaming down at the pair of them. His heart rate and general demeanor was volume enough. Matt couldn't help but smile back.

"Thank you for making it so easy for us. Who ever thought getting married could feel like such a Sisyphean task right up to the day?"

Kavan laughed and rapped his knuckles on the table. "Hey, as far as I'm concerned, getting the cake and food sorted is the biggest hurdle, and you guys nailed it. But don't let me rush you. Take as much time as you want. These moments for a breath don't come often. I'll have Kalle bring out some more coffee for you."

Matt waited until the baker moved off before he turned his attention back to Phil. "Ever meet someone and instantly wish you could forego the formality of employment and invite someone to your wedding brunch as a guest?"

“If we could have a few slices to go, that’d be great,” Phil said to Kavan before the baker left. He cocked an eyebrow at Matt, taking the other man’s hand in his and interlacing their fingers. “I say do it. We’re not exactly sticklers for rules, official jobs aside. Between your night shift and my second and my lending a hand, we’re a bit unusual. So fuck the rules, darling.”

"Fuck the rules, indeed." The tone was fond, even if the words were probably more emphatic than a cake tasting usually warranted. This was their lives, though. All of them. Matt leaned over and stole a lingering kiss right before fresh cups of coffee were delivered to their table.

It wasn't until they were alone again that he spoke up. "Working with Frank is— well, I'm not going to tell you no, because I know how that will go. He's ex-military. Used to working with a team, but that— he's—" Matt pursed his lips and let out a breath of frustration through his nose. "He's a damaged man. I know that's not an excuse, but you don't go through what he did and walk away from it the same person. If you want to try to bring him in and work with him, go right ahead. Just don't be surprised when he figures out your ulterior motives on day one. Just like Karen, you can handle yourself with him, I know that. It doesn't mean I want to have a front row seat for if—or when—it goes sideways."

Phil lingered in the kiss before sipping his coffee while he listened to Matt. Phil tended to be a ‘keep your enemies closer’ sort of guy, but Frank sounded a bit like Grant Ward. He could probably be an asset, but he’d need to be carefully managed - and probably not teamed up with some of the younger, greener folks he had working with him. “We’re all a little damaged,” Phil said, letting out a soft breath.

He squeezed Matt’s hand. “I’ll give him some time to settle in, maybe talk to him about it after the honeymoon… if he’s going to be doing the vigilante thing, well, I’d rather have eyes on a one-man army than just try to do damage control after the fact.”

It was as good as an answer as Matt was ever going to get, and he'd been able to at least put his misgivings out in the world. What happened past that was in God's hands. Matt turned his hand so he could twine their fingers together again. "On a lighter note, I think Karen's arrival means he might actually be coming to our happy day. You'll have to tell me if she convinces him to wear a suit. Last time he did that, we were in a courtroom together. It… did not go well."

“I feel like I should make popcorn to watch the saga of those two from what you’re telling me,” he teased. Phil’s heartbeat quickened at Matt’s statement. Because it did not go well was most likely an understatement. “Dare I ask what happened?” he asked softly, squeezing Matt’s hand.

His hand tightened around Phil's, a lance of guilt going through his stomach. That particular rhythm in his love's heart was not a good one, and Matt hadn't meant for his very slight hyperbole to hit that hard. "Nothing as dramatic as I'm probably making it sound. I was well on the better path to getting his sentence reduced when he threw all my good work in my face and pled guilty. Loudly. With a lot of profanity."

A sharp chuckle escaped Phil. “Oh, you meant legally.” He couldn’t help but snort a little in laughter, burying his face in Matt’s neck and dropping his voice to a low whisper. “Sorry, my love, I’m so used to ‘not going well’ meaning ‘I almost died’ that I forgot it could just be a bad day at work.”

He brushed his lips against Matt’s cheek just as Kavan came back with a cake box that looked like it definitely held more than just a few slices.

“For the family to enjoy,” the baker said with a smile.

“I’m sure the boys will appreciate it,” Phil said with a smile, thanking him and promising to send details about the cake decorations. He had a plan for that. Which may or may not involve action figures.

Phil squeezed Matt’s hand. “Home or do we have more errands to take care of?”

After sending a smile to the departing baker, all of Matt's focus went back to his husband-to-be. "Home. Where I can make up for almost giving you a heart attack. I can't promise I won't make it race, but I can promise it'll be for much better reasons."

Phil gave a low growl. “You don’t need to make it up to me, but maybe we need to finish off the cakes in bed,” he teased softly. “Figure out multiple uses for frosting.”

He got to his feet, picking up the cake box with his free hand and tugging Matt up with the other. “Alternately, we could just take Lola to a deserted place…”

Matt bit his lip to keep the worst of his groan in his mouth, but he knew he was flush as he tottered right into Phil's space. "If we don't save at least a slice or two for the boys, we'll never hear the end of it. But so long as we keep that in mind, I'm not opposed to an impromptu drive. It's been a while since we've had the chance, and I weirdly kind of miss feeling Lola's leather against my skin."

Phil steadied Matt, letting his forehead rest against his fiance’s as he groaned. “See, now you’ve put me in a pickle, Matthew,” Phil whispered. “Want to do right by our growing boys and bring them cake but I also want to thoroughly debauch you on that leather. You can’t just say things like that. You know what it does to me.”

His answering grin was as sunny as it was unrepentant, and Matt didn't hesitate the sneak a little kiss since he was so close and all. "Tonight, the devil on your shoulder will be played by little ol' me."

“Oh, did I not tell you? Marrying me means you’re committing to being the devil on my shoulder forever…” Phil purred, nipping at Matt’s lower lip with his teeth. “Do you know if the boys are home or if they had plans to be out?”

The laugh that left Matt was full throated, but modulated so as not to hurt his lover's ears, given his closeness. It was yet another reason why he loved this man so much. "Best unintentional job ever." He cocked his head to one side as he tried to recall what might have been said. "Chances are they're at practice or hanging out with their S.O.s, but maybe we shouldn't tempt fate by going home and finding out for sure. Take me for a short jaunt down the coast, babes?"

“Your wish is my command,” he teased, sliding his hand into Matt’s back pocket as he headed towards where Lola was parked. “I promise to have you home by curfew.”