A/N: April/Matthew, Post 10x12, Get Up, Stand Up. I ship 'em, and I ship 'em hard.
Summary: April and Matthew's wedding night. Spoilers for the end of 10x12, and, basically, a scene after what I think should happen before the finale – aka: April says no. Matthew/April, mentions Jackson/April. Don't like? Don't read.
One shot for now. Will likely continue – just depends on time and if you guys want to see more. I love this couple – I'd love to be able to write more of them.
Matthew hasn't spoken a word since the reception, and April hasn't been able to look at him. They're quite the pair, she thinks. She steals a quick glance as he fiddles with his keys and unlocks his apartment. He stops before he steps inside and clears his throat.
April sees anger his eyes. There's pain, too, and she wishes she could fix that. She wishes she could rewrite the past few hours.
Matthew steps back and his eyebrows arch. "Shall we?"
April wraps his suit coat tighter around herself. It won't protect her, she knows, but it feels warm and safe and it smells like his cologne.
"Today hasn't exactly been traditional," he says, and she winces to hear the underlying jab. Her cheeks flush and she closes her eyes. His voice softens as he says, "But it's tradition for a husband to carry his wife over the threshold. And you're my wife."
April's eyes open. It's the first time he's called her that all night. When she meets his gaze, she smiles and takes his hand. She is in his arms moments later, her gown billowing around her legs, and she wraps her arms around his neck. April feels like she could kiss him. It would be so easy with their mouths only inches apart. Instead she rests her forehead against his. Matthew lets out a sigh, and she can feel his shoulders relax despite carrying her weight.
"So carry me over the threshold," she says. "Because I'm your wife."
That morning, she thinks, he would have smiled at her saying that. His lips twitch, a half smile, and he whispers, "Yes, you are."
Matthew sets her down in the living room, and as soon as her feet hit the floor, she whips around and kisses him. She kisses him long and hard, until she can't breathe or feel anything but his hands on her lower back, moving up, gripping her shoulders and pushing her away.
"Wait," he says, and she's a little hurt when he wipes away the lipstick with his thumb. Matthew clears his throat and steps back from her. April's chest seizes. He might as well have put a continent between them. She wants to throw herself in his arms and kiss him until he can't say anything again, and he'll carry her into his room – their room now – and make love with her, like she dreamed about. But she doesn't, and when he meets her eyes, there is more pain than anger this time, and it makes her want to cry.
"Matthew—"
"Hold on."
"Matthew, I just…If we just…Maybe you know—"
"We need to talk," he says.
April's eyes close. This was not how she'd envisioned this night to go. But she can't blame him. She's hurting, too. April takes a deep breath. You're his wife, she reminds herself. You need to support him. She meets his gaze. "Do you want to sit?"
"I bought some bottles of champagne, and a huge tub of strawberries." He shrugs. "I heard those were nice, you know, for a first time and…" His jaw clenches and he shakes his head. April knows he's seeing Jackson stand up in the aisle, telling her he loves her, and she wishes she could wipe it from their memories. "I thought it would be nice," he finishes.
"I guess we can open up a bottle." We're going to need it, she thinks. "Should I change?"
Matthew looks her over and shakes his head. He says nothing and walks into the kitchen.
When they are sitting down at the table, where they've shared many meals and many feelings and many talks, Matthew fills two glasses with champagne and hands her one. April smiles and puts it to her lips but stops when he stares at her. "What?"
He opens his mouth but it snaps shut moments later. He raises his glass. "To us…?"
They clink glasses and drink. She's surprised when he downs his in one drink, compared to her modest sip. April sets the glass down and rests her hand on the table, hoping he will take it. He does not. Instead he pours himself another glass and drinks it. Before he can do a third, she covers the glass with her hand.
"Matthew," she says, hushed, scared. She's afraid, she realizes, because he looks at her like he hates her.
For a moment she hates herself, and her decision to have sex with Jackson at the hotel room. She hates what all of this has done to Matthew, who she loves, who does not deserve what has happened to him today. She wishes she could take away his pain. And hers, too.
"Matthew?"
He looks at her finally, and his eyes are filled with rage. "I'm not angry with you," he whispers. He blinks, and his eyes are clouded in sadness. "It's not you I'm mad at."
"Jackson?"
Matthew winces. "Please don't say his name."
"Okay," April flattens her hand against the tabletop when he still won't take it. "Matthew, what can I do?"
"I don't know." He sighs heavily and shakes his head. His eyes flicker around the kitchen, and settle on her, and he blinks back tears. Matthew clears his throat and swipes at his eyes, not bearing to look at her. "I don't even know where to start."
"Take my hand." She offers. "Lean on me."
He takes her hand and squeezes it hard. "This was not how I thought it would go."
She wants to laugh out of nervousness, if anything else, but she can only brush the pad of her thumb along the top of his hand. She smiles when he brings her hand to his lips and kisses it. "I love you, Matthew."
He nods.
"Matthew?"
"Say it again."
"I love you."
"Again."
April covers their joined hands with her free one. "I. Love. You. Matthew. Taylor. I love you. I love you. I love you. How many times do you want me to say it until you believe it?"
He opens his eyes and stares at her, not hard, or even intimidating, just open and scared, and it's like he's stabbed a scalpel through her chest. "But you love him too?"
April sucks in a breath. "That's not—"
"Do you love him?" Matthew asks, and his tone tells her he means business.
"I'm in love with you."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"Just because I've loved other people in the past does not discredit or make our relationship, our love – our marriage – any less meaningful or important or mean that I love you any less."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"It should."
"April. Please."
She breathes in and exhales a heavy breath. "I married you, Matthew. I stood before God and became your wife. That should speak for itself."
"Not unless you didn't want to embarrass me. Like when I proposed."
"Oh my God! You have got to be kidding me! Matthew, you…" She laughs and shakes her head. "If I didn't love you, if I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with you, I would not have married you. I said it then and I'll say it now: I love you. You. And yes, I loved him. A part of me always will—Don't!" She shakes her head when he opens his mouth. "But I love you. I'm in love with you. I am your wife. Your wife! I will love you – all of me – for the rest of my life, and if you doubted that…" April shakes her head and looks down at their joined hands, their wedding bands shining against one another. "You shouldn't have married me."
There are moments of silence that April can't stand. Finally, Matthew clears his throat and says, "April, look at me."
She lifts her head and nervously meets his gaze. "I just needed to get all of that out before you said something."
"I know. I…" He scoots off his chair and gets on his knees before her. He holds her hands in his own. "I'm just so scared that you might love him more."
Her heart breaks. She cups his cheek and smiles when he closes his eyes and leans into her touch. She feels the same when his hand rests on her thigh. Peace. He brings her a peace and sense of belonging she's never felt before, and she's certain this love between them will last forever if they can only make it past tonight. She believes in them. She believes in his love for her, and hers for him, and knows in her heart that they can work through this.
To prove her love, she bends down and kisses his forehead. His skin is clammy and hot. She kisses his forehead again, and then his nose, and his cheeks, and finally rests her lips against his. They kiss, and she buries her hands in his hair. It won't repair the damage, but it's a start. It's all she can do right now besides scream and shake him, and she knows he does not need that right now.
When they pull away to breathe, she swipes her thumb across her tongue and rubs away the lipstick that has smeared on his mouth. They share a smile.
"I'm so sorry about today," she says softly.
He shrugs. "I hear make up sex is the best kind."
April laughs.
Matthew stands and pulls her to her feet. He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her body against his. He kisses her once on the lips. "We should talk more, you know. About this."
"Not tonight." April slides her arms around his neck and presses her breasts against his chest. She smiles when his breath hitches. "What do you say tonight, we, uh, really become husband and wife?"
"I won't be any good."
"You'll be perfect. Because you're my husband."
Matthew smiles and kisses her. "And you're my wife."
"Tomorrow we'll talk," April promises. She pulls away from him. She takes his hand and, smiling, leads him to the bedroom.
A/N: Review please? Let me know what you think. I LOVE this pair and I know I'm not alone.