InsaneJournal

Everything had exceeded Phil’s expectations and he was still walking on a cloud. After a lazy morning and breakfast in bed, it wasn’t too much effort to make it to the late morning mass at a small Catholic Church. And if Phil had kept his hand in Matt’s throughout most of mass, who could blame him.

After the closing song, he tugged lightly on his husbands hand. “Follow me, love,” he said with a smile, pulse quickening with nerves, hoping Matt would be pleased. “I have a surprise for you.”

Matt tilted his face toward his husband—(God, how was that even real? Yesterday was a blur steeped in the kind of happiness he hadn't even known he was capable of feeling)—bemusement raising the corner of his mouth. "If it's even more of the same from last night and this morning, I feel like I should warn you: I can barely feel my legs now."

The protestation was a token one, since Matt was already on his feet. He liked the way the body warmed metal pressed into finger, and knew he'd be constantly thumbing at it and smiling in the days to come. "But you know I'd follow you anywhere."

Phil chuckled, brushing his lips against Matt’s ear. “There will be more of that later if your up for it, but I’m not planning on ravishing you in a church. Unless that’s a fantasy of yours?”

He let the words trail off as he led Matt to one of the side chapels where a priest was waiting for them. “Father Patrick, I’d like to introduce my husband Matthew.”

A rather telling flush crept in the back of Matt's neck, but he stayed wisely silent on the matter. Instead, he met the man he was introduced to with a polite, if confused smile. The smallest ripple of misgivings caused his expression to slip, but it was right back in place barely a second later. He offered his hand in the priest's general direction. "Most people call me Matt, but Matthew works, too. Pleasure to meet you, Father. Is there something I can help you with? Did Phil tell you I'm a lawyer?"

“He did. He also talked my ear off for over an hour about your virtues,” the priest chuckled with a warm Irish lilt. “Matt it is then. Wouldn’t want you to think you’re in trouble. Has Philip not told you what this is about?”

“I wanted to surprise him,” Phil said softly, his usual confidence slipping a bit. Had he misjudged things? “We just got married yesterday as I mentioned, and this is one of my wedding presents to him.”

Father Patrick turned to Matt. “Well before we proceed, are you okay with me giving you two a blessing for your wedding?”

In a rare moment of being caught out completely, Matt lost his composure. His mouth dropped open and no words—suave, congenial, or otherwise—fell out. Behind his glasses, his eyes welled. They'd done such a lot the day before, and always with good reason.

This time was no different.

Matt's answer, when it finally came, was so thick with emotion he could barely get the words out, and his hand shivered a little in his husband's hold. Tears dropped down his cheeks, first one, then the other. "Yes, please.”

Phil’s hand tightened its grip a little, as the former director of SHIELD pressed his body against the vigilante’s as much as he could. “This okay?” He whispered, too quiet for the priest’s ears.

The priest smiled at the couple and their display of emotion. It was obvious how much they meant to each other. “Then I ask that you join your right hands together. Phillip, do you take Matthew to be your husband? Do you promise to be faithful to him in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love him and to honor him all the days of your life?”

“I do,” Phil said, for the second time in two days, but he would say it every day for the rest of his life if he could. “With all my heart, body, and soul.”

“Matthew, do you take Phillip to be your husband? Do you promise to be faithful to him in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love him and to honor him all the days of your life?” The priest continued with the Irish lilt. Perhaps he was going through a little bit more of the marriage rite than necessary but given what Phil had told him, it seemed like it might be meaningful for the couple.

It's perfect, Matt mouthed back, not wanting to interrupt the priest or take up any more time than they already had. The idea that Phil had found someone to do this at all, let alone sat down and talked to him about it as much as he obviously had was easily the best present he'd received yet. Each lilting word only hammered this fact home and brought up memories of decades past. He thought about his father, his old neighborhood, and it didn't hurt nearly as much as it could.

None of it brought him out of this moment, however, and Matt didn't hesitate when it was his turn. "I do, I will, for as long as I possibly can."

Phil was fairly certain his heart skipped a beat or two when Matt said those words. Yes, they’d exchanged vows and declared their vows yesterday, but doing it in a church with a priest felt different for some reason. He squeezed Matt’s hand at his husbands words, love radiating off him.

The priest smiled, because weddings were among his favorite things. “May the Lord in his kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before God and graciously bring to fulfillment all God's blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder. May the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, the God who joined together our first parents in paradise, strength and bless in Christ the consent you have declared before the Church, so that what God joins together, no one may put asunder.”

The priest rested his hands on both their heads. “Holy Father, who formed humanity in your own image, so that united in body and heart, they might fulfill their calling in the world; O God, who, to reveal the great design you formed in your love, willed that the love of spouses for each other should foreshadow the covenant you graciously made with your people, so that, by fulfillment of the sacramental sign, the mystical marriage of Christ with the Church might become manifest in the union of marriage among your faithful; Graciously stretch out your right hand over these your servants Matthew and Phillip, we pray, and pour into their hearts the power of the Holy Spirit. Grant, O Lord, that, as they enter upon this sacramental union, they may share with one another the gifts of your love and, by being for each other a sign of your presence, become one heart and one mind. May they also sustain the home they are forming and be examples for the family they have built. In happiness may they praise you, O Lord, in sorrow may they seek you out; may they have the joy of your presence to assist them in their toil, and know that you are near to comfort them in their need; let them pray to you in and bear witness to you in the world, and after a happy old age, together with the circle of friends that surrounds them, may they come to the Kingdom of Heaven. We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

Phil echoed the priest’s amen before the Irish lilt broke out again. “You can now seal your union with a kiss.”

The blessing he thought he'd never get to hear by an ordained priest moved through Matt and left him with an overwhelming feeling of peace and joy. He smiled his thanks at Father Patrick, and then all his attention went to his husband. His hand found the side of Phil's face with unerring aim and he brought their lips together in a way he'd never thought possible in this or any other church.

Phil returned the kiss with perhaps more passion and enthusiasm than was appropriate for a church. But he couldn’t be bothered to care what the priest thought. He pulled Matt close against him, hand sliding down his husband’s back to rest on his hip before pulling back to catch his breath.

Father Patrick chuckled. “Well boys, I don’t want to intrude on your newly wedded any longer than necessary, but I just have a little present for you two.” He pulled a folder from one of the pews and handed it to them. “A little something for your home.”

Phil took the elaborately decorated certificate - which had both calligraphy and braille on it. He guided Matt’s fingers to the braille, which he guessed had the same wedding blessing as the beautiful text. “Father… but…”

Phil knew he had pulled favors, but he didn’t expect to have a framed blessing signed by the priest with their names on it.

Father Patrick merely chuckled. “I do hope they got the braille right - the church will get its head out of its ass eventually, but I’d rather err on the side of love in this regard.”

"It's perfect," Matt murmured, this time aloud, although his voice was rough with all the emotions his chest could barely contain. He kept running his fingertips across the braille, each line beautifully rendered. The care that had gone into this— Really, it was all Matt could do not to break down all over again. "Thank you, Father. This is— Thank you."

He turned toward Phil and edged their shoulders together. "I don't mean to be rude, but, uh, can we go back to the hotel now? For… reasons best not discussed in our current location."

Father Patrick smiled. “And that’s my cue. Congratulations again, boys.”

Phil thanked him before pulling Matt in for another kiss after the priest left. “Weren’t you the one suggesting naughty things in a church earlier? Or would you prefer to take me back to the hotel for debauchery, Mister Murdock-Coulson?”

Once the priest's heartbeat was a sufficient distance away and showed no sign of returning, Matt took his chance and all but pounced on his husband—to the point where he almost caused them to lose their balance. After a thorough oral examination, which left him breathless and giddy, he attempted at least a little bit of gravity. "Contrary to my previous actions, I'd rather not add excommunication to the list of unexpected things today. Maybe we can move that particular fantasy to less sacred ground?"

After a scant moment, he added on: "Coulson-Murdock. Alpha-order appeals to my pedantic lawyer sensibilities."

Phil’s arms tightened around his husband as he took the moment to steal another kiss, this one slightly more tender before pulling back. “Coulson-Murdock it is then. Does that mean I have to reorganize my vinyl collection to be in alpha order instead of genre?” he teased, discreetly readjusting himself before sliding his hand through Matt’s and tugging him towards the exit. Getting to the hotel would be a very good thing.

“Don’t worry, there is nothing else on our calendar today except making sure our marriage is fully consummated. If that meets with your approval, husband?”

Despite the subtle movement, Matt couldn't help but clock it. At this point, he was forever in tune with all things regarding his husband, and nothing would change that any time soon. Matt chuckled and shook his head, briefly nuzzling Phil's nose with his own before they were on the move again. "I would never get between a man and his record collection's organization. There are lines, babes."

A little snort left him, and Matt clapped his hand over his mouth before his laughter could echo around the sanctuary as they made their way out. Between his fingers, he said, "Okay, I'm never calling you 'babes' again. What has California done to me? But, yes, so very much consummation. Approval times ten. Sustained, even."

Phil managed to hold in his laughter until they were outside, where he pressed Matt against the stone walls of the church and kissed him tenderly. “Clearly the boys are rubbing off on us. At least you didn’t call me dude?” he teased.

There was something about seeing Matt so joyful that made Phil’s heart overflow. “Oh? Are we going to play judge and naughty attorney?”

Matt groaned, but not for long, not with his mouth otherwise occupied for a moment. The sun warmed stone probably wasn't all that good for his suit jacket, but he couldn't bring it upon himself to care. "Don't put that out in the universe. I don't want to accidentally call a witness or—God forbid—a D.A. 'dude'. Then I'd never really hear the end of it."

Another laugh bubbled out of him, even though he tried to appear at least a little appalled. "I'd rather not mix business with pleasure on my honeymoon, your Honor."

Phil brushed his lips against Matt’s ear. “Not sure anything I plan on doing to you is honorable,” he whispered. “But we should probably get to a bed soon before my self control completely disappears.”

"We'll stay decent in the car ride over." Matt could feel his own blood pressure rising like the tide in his ears, a low thrum echoed all over his body, but especially down south. "All bets are off as soon as our hotel room door closes, though."

Phil couldn’t hold back the small moan that escaped him. “Hotel. Now.” His voice was husky as he half led half dragged his husband towards Lola. As tempting as it was to re-christen Lola, he was looking forward to getting full use of their honeymoon suite. “How are those legs of yours doing? Do we need a soak in the hot tub first?”

"Honestly, right until you mentioned it, I'd kind of forgotten about how they felt." Matt stretched out his legs the best he could in the foot well of Lola when he finally got seated. They really weren't as bad off as they were first thing that morning—not that he was actually complaining about them. Especially considering how they'd gotten that way. He rolled an easy smile in his husband's direction as the engine rumbled to life all around them (at least that's how it felt to Matt, every time). "But some time in the hot tub wouldn't make me sad at all."

“Well, then clearly I’ll need to step it up. Not doing my job well enough if you can still walk,” Phil teased, letting hand rest on Matt’s upper thigh once he’d pulled into traffic. “I already asked the hotel for a late check out tomorrow. Figure we should make the most out of the luxury…”

"This is why you get to make the plans," Matt observed, even while sinking further down into the plush leather seat. If it inched Phil's hand up a little higher, well… Happy accident? Sure, right. A smile slid across his face as he reached over to trace tiny shapes into the side of Phil's leg, belying the faux innocence of his expression. "I must admit, I'm very excited to experience your renewed effort to leave me incapacitated. Just make sure I'm recovered by Friday at the latest. It's all I ask."

Phil laughed, smirking wickedy even as he kept his eyes on the road. If his legs spread slightly to give Matt better access and his heart rate quickened, well, who could blame him. He trailed his own hand upwards on Matt’s leg, keeping his touch light and teasing. “I promise to make sure you don’t miss that arraignment. I’m not that much of a bad influence.”

This particular game of chicken was a very familiar one, and if they hadn't been driving at the moment, Matt would have already won it. But getting in trouble for public indecency still didn't chart on his To Do list, so he kept his touch mostly PG. It was a close thing, however, since all he wanted to do was crawl into Phil's lap and kiss him stupid. All so he could turnabout the favor. "Aren't you a gentleman. Just not too much of a gentleman. The right particular blend of gentleman and scoundrel."

“I aim to strike a balance between the two.” It wasn’t long before they pulled into the hotel parking, grateful for splurging for a parking spot. He might have been irrationally possessive and overprotective about Lola, but he wasn’t about to hand her over to any valet. Once Lola was parked and locked, Phil steered them towards the elevators, stopping to steal kisses every few steps. Even if Matt couldn’t feel Phil’s arousal pressing against him, he knew his husband would be able to tell from his heavier breathing and rapid pulse. There was an audible sigh of relief when the elevator came and he pressed the button for the penthouse honeymoon suite. “And are you a gentleman or a scoundrel today?”

Matt's answering grin was as wide as it was a perfect homage to the name he'd been given back home in Hell's Kitchen. "'I aim to strike a balance between the two.'"

He laughed, then, his own heart tripping over itself in what felt like the longest elevator ride in the history of ever. They were both coiled springs just waiting to get to their penthouse suite. It thrummed just beneath Matt's skin: a need that made him a little crazy. Only the soft electrical whir of the security camera embedded in the ceiling kept him—kept them both—from tearing their clothes off right then and there.

Finally the doors opened, revealing the small hallway and large doors, and he lost track of who yanked who inside because all Matt cared about was the taste of his husband's mouth and the feel of his hands and just how perfect it all was.