Title: City Hall
Pairing: KuroFay
Warning: None
Disclaimer: Characters ain't mine, yadda yadda.
A/N: The song is Vienna Teng – City Hall
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Kurogane and Fay have the sort of souls that will always find each other. There are many Kuroganes and Fays in many different worlds, and in each world they come together as if magnetized, drawn by a force too powerful to resist. Once they meet, no matter which universe they live in, that force begins to pull them together, close enough to touch.
Every Kurogane is bound to his Fay by a red thread around his little finger. Their coming together is merely hitsuzen.
*********************
In this world, Kurogane and Fay have been together for ten years.
They woke up the morning the government finally allowed them to get married in a haze of down and thick morning air, their limbs softly knotted together under a thick white quilt.
Kurogane kissed the top of Fay's head automatically. A gentle rainfall patted at the roof, the sort that never seemed to dampen anything.
"We need to get up," he grunted, sleep still heavy in his voice. "It's today."
Fay curled closer for a moment, then stretched out slowly, like a cat. His skin almost shone in the light.
"Good morning, Kuro-sama," he said simply, kissing his lover's cheek once in greeting. "Today's the day."
They untied their bodies slowly, like a single cell dividing into two, as they had every day for so many years. It was a credit to them, really. They'd stayed the course.
It had taken Kurogane at least eight of their years together to convince Fay to be even remotely truthful about his thoughts and feelings. Sometimes, after a fight or a particularly bad day, he still felt cut off from the little blond, but it no longer took more than an hour to get him to come clean about it: a penetrating look, a warm body, and a kiss that said everything it wasn't in his nature to say was all that was needed for Fay's shield to crumble in front of him, leaving him bare. Honest. Today, though, it seemed that tactic wasn't necessary.
Kurogane watched his lover closely that morning - in the hallway, in the kitchen, eating breakfast. Fay was trembling slightly as he poured the tea, shaking as he lowered plates onto the table for them, but a pink flush was high in his cheeks, and the corners of his mouth were pulled up in a private smile. That smile was reassuring; it told Kurogane that though Fay was anxious, that the nerves were the sort that were expected of anybody. It was a natural excitement. Fay's old terror of binding himself to someone was long gone - and still absent, even today.
Good.
"You're not scared," he murmured over his tea. It was a statement of fact.
"Not scared, really, no," came the honest reply.
They took longer to dress than usual. Fay put in the effort and took his time; Kurogane simply stared at the mirror and hoped something would spontaneously occur to make him look less frightening. When they were done, they both donned simple, tailored suits, Kurogane's black and Fay's white – Fay had briefly considered a dress, but had decided that perhaps the first day that same-sex marriage was legal in this country was not the ideal time for him to dress as a woman – and stood in their living room a moment, staring at each other.
They drove quietly in their ancient green car, sharing a charged silence. Fay leaned against the window, eyes on nothing, his heart thumping faster than their little hatchback could ever hope to go in its quest to keep its blood moving through the small veins that connected it to fingers, toes, earlobes, lips. He smiled.
Twenty minutes into the ride, the blond shifted at last, and silently popped a CD into their battered stereo. Their sound system yawned to life as a soft, elaborate piano began to play, gentle, easy. The song was serenely happy, quiet in the way it expressed emotion, and the soft, relaxed female voice that came in suited well. Kurogane never noticed the lyrics, but Fay did, and smiled a little more.
Slowly, the landscape around them changed. Wild country slowly turned into tamed fields, and then shifted again into neatly cropped front lawns. But this town wasn't large, and the city stayed green as they approached its center and parked at city hall.
Outside they're handing out doughnuts and pizza pies
To the folks in pairs
In the folding chairs
My baby's looking so damn pretty with those anxious eyes
Rain-speckled hair
And my ring to wear
Ten years waiting for this moment of fate
As we say the words and sign our names
If they take it away again someday
This beautiful thing won't change
And oh, me and my baby driving down
To a hilly seaside town in the rainfall
Oh, me and my baby stand in line
You've never seen a sight so fine
As the love that's gonna shine at City Hall.