The chapel was a bit garish, with large posters of Elvis in a white jumpsuit decorated with rhinestones. A lookalike Elvis stood at the altar, ready to bestow marriage with the curl of his lip and a few hip gyrations.

Brad laughed and clapped his hands to see it, and Chris exchanged a smile with Ant. Brad’s joy was infectious, and Riley — while less demonstrative — smiled at his groom with such deep love that Chris had to blink back tears.

He remembered when his two friends suffered, and he’d worked hard to push them in the right direction. Not easy with two strong-willed men. Brad had been obviously, devastatingly in love with Riley almost the entire time Chris had known him. He’d slept with other guys, as Riley did, but he’d always scrapped other plans when his best friend came calling. It was a little sad to watch, but then Brad woke up one day and tried to break loose from his infatuation. Poor, oblivious Riley. He’d been completely blindsided and hurt by his fuck buddy’s vanishing act. He was in love with Brad too, of course. He just didn’t know it right away.

Now, here they were, about to commit their lives to one another. That’s what marriage was about, not the travesty of two drunk men giggling while reciting vows. Or pretending to recite vows, as it turned out.

Jesus, he still couldn’t believe it. Even if the idea had horrified him at first, the idea of marriage to Ant had started to feel so real. He’d begun to accept they were tethered by this one, massively dumb act. It was a relief to know he wasn’t stupid enough to get drunk married, but he also felt like he’d lost something. The security of having a partner by his side, there to weather the storm with him.

He hoped one day, he could have that again with Ant. But without Papa Jack and Mama Champagne in the mix.

Chris took his place on Brad’s side of the altar, and Harry took up a spot beside Riley. Bret and Ant sat in the first pew to watch.

The two grooms were gorgeous, if untraditional in their dress. Chris had helped Brad select his clothes. They weren’t what Chris would wear himself — he knew Brad well enough to know he wouldn’t want to dress that conservatively — but they were tastefully gaudy, if that was possible.

Brad stood in charcoal pants with just a bit of shimmer to them and a white, nearly transparent shirt layered with sparkle. Chris had talked him out of the full-on glitter jumpsuit. Beside him, Riley wore dark jeans, biker boots, and a black button-down shirt. So, pretty much the same thing he wore whenever they went out. But he looked handsome and devoted, so he was pretty much the perfect groom.

The vows were fairly typical, although the officiant threw in a grisly “Uh-huh” a few times while curling his lip. Chris slipped a small pouch from his pocket and handed Brad the rings when the time came, shooting a sheepish look Ant’s way as the two grooms slipped on their wedding bands.

Thank God they’d found that ring in Chris’s room, and that Ant realized whose rings they’d been wearing when he did. Chris didn’t like to think of how he would have felt to tell Brad and Riley that he’d lost their rings. Horror and shame didn’t begin to describe it.

Ant smiled at him tentatively, and Chris drank it in, tucked it away, and hoped to collect many more where that came from. Ant wasn’t his husband, and they hadn’t exactly ironed out the future. But Chris knew without a doubt that Ant wasn’t his enemy anymore. In fact, had never been.

They went out for a celebratory dinner, where Brad and Riley were ridiculously sappy. Ant felt pretty sappy too, sitting beside Chris with his hand on his thigh. He felt settled and secure, ashamed to have ever doubted Chris’s true feelings toward him. It had been a moment of insecurity, but he knew Chris better than that. And he hoped to get to know him even better when they got home.

Bret tossed a balled-up napkin at Ant as he nuzzled Chris’s neck, lost in the heady happiness of having his man at last.

“Stop acting like such newlyweds!” he complained before stopping with a horrified expression. “Oh shit, I’m sorry!”

Harry looked baffled. “Uh, hon, Brad and Riley got married.” He pointed as if Bret didn’t know which friends were which.

“Right, how silly of me,” Bret said, red tinging his cheeks.

Chris exchanged a look with Ant. “Is it okay if I explain?”

Ant nodded. He’d never been the one who wanted to keep everything secret. He understood why Chris didn’t want to disrupt Brad and Riley’s wedding plans.

“I have an announcement to make.”

Everyone looked over.

“Ant and I are not married.”

Harry snorted, and Brad and Riley laughed. Bret looked confused. “You’re not?”

Chris continued. “See, Bret’s not crazy. Ant and I thought we’d gotten married. It’s a long story that involves a lot of liquor.”

“You’re shitting me,” Riley said. Then shot a disbelieving look at Ant. “You call that no drama?”

“Hey, whoa,” Ant said, lifting his hands. “He’s the one who made me keep it a secret. The damage was already done … or not done, as it turns out.”

Brad laughed. “Relax, Riles. We got married without a hitch.”

Riley huffed, but he didn’t say anything else.

Brad shook his head, grinning. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! I teased you nonstop about Ant.”

“I know,” Chris said darkly.

Brad laughed again, and Bret joined in. “Oh God, remember how you grilled him about what happened Thursday night?” Bret asked.

“Only you, Chris,” Harry said.

“I know, right?” Chris turned to Ant. “You see? Crazy just follows me around. Be careful, or it’ll get you too.”

Ant grinned. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Does this mean you guys are a couple?” Harry asked.

Chris glanced uncertainly at Ant. He didn’t know, so he just shrugged. “We haven’t hammered out all the details. We just got un-married today.”

This set off another round of laughs, and then there were demands to hear the full story. Ant felt a little bad for taking the attention from the real newlyweds, but Brad was so entertained that he figured it was all good.

But eventually, Chris stood up and raised his glass. “Today isn’t about me or my crazy love life—”

“Or mine,” Ant chimed in, wanting to reassert he had a part in it. Chris might believe there was some crazy karma at work, but everything that happened between them affected him too.

Chris smiled down at him. “Right, you deserve half the crazy credit.” He turned back to the group at large. “Today is about Brad and Riley, two gorgeous and sexy men—”

“Sing it!” Brad called.

“Who bedded half of Kansas City’s gay population.”

“Only the hot ones,” Riley added with a grin, reminding Ant abruptly that Riley and Chris had hooked up once.

“Guess I’m chopped liver,” Harry muttered, but then Bret leaned in and whispered something in his ear that made him smile and nod.

They kissed briefly, but tenderly, and Ant could see the love between them. Goddamn, everyone at this table was so lucky. He was glad to be among them, about to explore love with Chris. Because he knew, in his heart, that they were in this together for the long run this time.

“Two men who became friends and lovers, who realized they couldn’t give themselves to anyone else.”

“Took him long enough, though,” Brad snarked.

Riley growled into his neck. “I only feast on you now, my dear.”

Once Brad and Riley stopped making out, Chris continued. “You guys give me faith in love.” He glanced over at Bret and Harry. “You guys, too. You’ve all been my proof that love does exist, and it’s worth fighting for. I don’t hope you find all the happiness you deserve in the years to come; I know you will. Congratulations.”

“Congratulations,” the others echoed as Brad and Riley kissed once more. Then Brad stood up and hugged Chris tight, whispering something in his ear that made him smile wide.

When Chris sat down, Ant had to know. “What did he say to you?”

Chris blinked misty eyes. “He thanked me for having faith in them, even when they didn’t have faith in themselves.” Chris sniffed. “No biggie. I do it for all my friends.”

“Now, it’s time to do it for yourself,” Ant said.

Chris nodded, smiling up at him. “I think that’s a great idea.”

After dinner, they went to a gay nightclub called Flaunt, which seemed perfect for Brad. He’d always been one to flaunt what he had fearlessly. Chris admired that about him, sometimes even as he shuddered to see the things Brad flaunted. Settling into a relationship with Riley had tamed some of Brad’s most outrageous impulses, but he was still one of those people who lived brightly.

Flaunt was unlike any gay nightclub Chris had ever experienced back home. For one thing, it was massive. The dance floor was packed with hundreds of people and lit with strobing, colored lights. There were two floors, each with their own bar, and a large outdoor patio area. For another, it had raised platforms for actual, half-dressed go-go dancers. Muscled-up men who wore tiny bikini briefs that barely contained their dicks gyrated to the music, accepting tips from the crowd. Some of them had pale skin that gleamed under the lights; others wore tattoos or tans. There were men of a variety of ethnic backgrounds, but they all had one thing in common: they were hot as hell.

Brad, still dressed in his sparkly wedding clothes, glowed under the lights. He’d been right about that facial, Chris thought, as he watched him and Riley laughing together. He had no idea what they were saying, because the music was loud.

They gave a brief wave and then vanished into the writhing bodies on the dance floor.

“Want a drink?” Ant asked.

Chris leaned in closer to catch the words over the thumping dance music. “What?”

“A drink?” Ant repeated, this time miming tipping a cup up to his mouth.

“I’m never drinking again!” Chris yelled.

Ant’s teeth flashed white in the darkness. “Then let’s dance!”

Chris had danced in gay clubs in Kansas City. He’d grinded with men, getting hot and sweaty, until they decided to go find a place to hook up. But this was on a whole other level. As Ant pulled Chris into the crowd, heat washed over them. There were so many men, and there was no space. The brush of a dozen arms and hands prickled Chris’s skin and raised goose bumps as they weaved their way toward the center of the floor.

The air was thick with pheromones, lust an almost physical presence among so many horny men. Chris wasn’t immune to the sensation. His dick was plumping up and he’d not even started dancing yet.

Ant pulled him flush against his body, grabbing handfuls of Chris’s ass, and Chris wrapped an arm around Ant’s neck and gave his body over to the music and the mood of the club. Bodies pressed in behind him, pushing him harder into Ant’s body, but that was no hardship unless you counted the very hard cock digging into Chris’s hip.

Ant spun him, pulling Chris’s ass back against him, and slid a hand under his shirt, caressing his stomach. Sweat slid down his body, making him slippery. Ant slid his hand up to pluck at Chris’s nipples, and Chris leaned his head back on Ant’s shoulder and closed his eyes, losing himself to the sensations.

Ant had a hard-on that wouldn’t quit. It ached, and he couldn’t resist grinding it against Chris’s ass. They’d shifted positions a few times, but each one resulted in the same hot press of body against body. Lust pumped through his veins, and he was soaked through with sweat — more from the crush of people than exertion.

He pulled back, tugging his shirt off, and threaded it through his belt. Chris turned to face him, jostled by his movements, and gazed at Ant’s bare chest. With a sultry smile, he leaned forward and licked a stripe between Ant’s pecs. When he looked up, his eyes were hot, and Ant was done.

He gripped Chris’s head and kissed him hard. Chris moaned into the kiss, as turned on as Ant, and hiked a leg around Ant’s hip. He thrust his hard dick against the denim of Ant’s jeans frantically.

Ant pulled back. “Hold on,” he panted. “We should leave.”

“Fuck that,” Chris said.

He dropped his leg and grabbed Ant’s hand, dragging him toward a hallway near the bathrooms. Ant waffled over whether to resist Chris’s fairly obvious plan to have sex in public. But he was fired up, feeling like he might combust any moment, so when Chris shoved him against the wall and kissed him, he kissed him back.

And when Chris tried to climb him like a tree, he helpfully extended his arms and caught an armful of hot, humping man. He turned around, pressing Chris to the wall, and thrust against him, groaning low in his throat.

Chris fumbled between them. Ant looked down, watching as if from a distance, as Chris unbuckled his belt, unfastened his jeans, and pulled out Ant’s thick dick. It looked heavy and crude in Chris’s delicate hand.

Chris closed his long fingers around Ant’s cock, then stroked. Pleasure and relief washed through him. He’d been hard for so damn long. Chris kissed him again, and he thrust into his hand, ready to come.

“There you are— Whoa!”

Ant’s eyes snapped open. Brad and Riley stood at the bathroom door, laughing at them.

“Just ignore them,” Chris said loudly, seemingly unfazed by the interruption.

“Yes, yes, carry on!” Brad said. “I insist. Tonight is a night for love!”

Love. Shit. Ant couldn’t do this here, like this.

He wanted this second chance with Chris to be about more than sex. It was about intimacy and emotional connection. He and Chris hadn’t yet fully worked out everything they meant to each other, what they wanted, but he knew that cumming against a nightclub wall was a paltry comparison to the thorough love-making they could accomplish at the hotel.

He set Chris down on the floor and tucked himself back into his pants.

“Ant?” Chris said. “It’s okay, really.”

“Let’s just go back to the hotel,” Ant implored. He pressed a quick kiss to Chris’s lips to reassure him.

Chris pouted, and Ant licked his bottom lip, drawing a small gasp. “We’ll have more time and privacy,” he murmured against Chris’s mouth. “I need more than a wall for what I have planned for you.”

“Fine,” Chris said reluctantly. “Let’s go.”