Gary blessed Marty with his flower bouquet.

"I now pronounce you husband and husband," announced Mary Sue, tears in her eyes. She grinned.

Marty was the size of a small minivan. His protruding belly looked like a beer gut, and his sagging, leaky man-boobs looked like fat abs gone wrong. Hopefully, his relatives just thought that he was fat. They were a bit conservative, and some hadn't arrived yet.

Gary kissed him full on the lips. He was very proud, and beamed, slinging his arm around his shoulders and leading him into the aisle. The crowd went mad and started throwing rose petals everywhere.

Marty was grinning, but also looking pale and weak. He'd gone the colour of grey tea.

"Are you alright, honey?" asked a concerned relative on the way up.

"I'm fine," he blurted out. "It's just the baby kicking."

Gary placed a warm hand on his stomach. He mellowed inside, feeling the kicks. He hoped it was a boy, but Marty wasn't telling him the ultrasound results yet, wanting it to be a birth surprise. He hadn't told anyone, and wanted to raise the baby genderqueer.

Marty had a rose petal caught in his beard. Gary blew it away gently, then harder when that didn't shift it. They made they way out of the community centre and into the street where their electric car was parked.

Gary held open the door, and to wild applause, Marty got in difficultly.

Gary went around to the other side and flung the bouquet over the car to land in a white woman's arms. She was a friend of the family.

"Oh, honey," she simpered. "Good luck to both of you! Take care of the kid!"

"We will!" called Gary back, then ducked his head in.

Marty had his seatbelt done up, again with difficulty. His lavender shirt wasn't quite so tucked in, and his pants were loose. Gary reached over and made him more comfortable.

"This is the life," sighed Marty, leaning back with his eyes closed. "Do me now," he whispered.

"No," said Gary. "We've got the reception first."

"No," said Marty, opening his eyes, and grabbing Gary's hand onto his crotch. "Do me now," he ordered.


With a look of apology to the driver, Gary and Marty made their way to the reception. It was a loud, noisy affair, a bit like their gay club, but neither quite to their satisfaction. It was far too full of relatives who'd known them since they were little.

There weren't enough kids running around, like at weddings they'd been to when younger.

The candles had been lit, the champagne and prosecco had been drunk, and the last slow dance was on.

Marty leaned his head on Gary's tall steep shoulder. "I love you," he whispered.

"I know, darling. I know we made the right choice getting married before the baby came, even if that sounds old-fashioned."

"It could be any day now, the doctor said."

"It's been nine months already?"

Gary looked down. "You don't look a day over five. Months, that is." He cupped a hand over his belly. "You haven't put on much weight."

"I need a caesarean when the baby's ready. There's nowhere for it to come out otherwise."

"I still don't know how I got you pregnant in the first place, to be honest. We were only doing anal. I thought that was safe, with the right condom."

Marty shrugged. "It could have been the lube eating away at the rubber."

"I think that's a myth. " Gary accidentally trod on his foot. "Sorry."

The music wound down. They were the last couple on the floor. They thanked the DJ and the attendees and the catering staff.

Gary kissed Marty full on the lips and worked in tongue how he knew best. The crowd oohed and aahed in appreciation.

To a smattering of applause, Gary picked Marty up in his arms and staggered with him out the door to the electric car again. The driver looked appalled.