out cold; au

This, Lightning thought as she tossed Hope onto the bed without remorse, was exactly why she had initially voted against an open bar for her wedding reception.

After all, neither of them were big drinkers. They'd participated in a toast with champagne, but she'd thought that that would be the end of it. She'd been busy for most of the night anyway, letting her sister drag her around to talk with the minimal amount of guests they had. That had been exhausting enough, but now she really wished they'd just gone ahead with a private ceremony.

"W-Whoa," Hope slurred, lifting his head up from the sheets where his wife had tossed him. A stupid grin formed on his face, which matched his glassy, bloodshot eyes. "Gettin' into it, huh?"

Lightning rolled her eyes. "You'd fall asleep halfway through," she muttered. It was a crude and horrible thing to say, but she wasn't feeling very forgiving at the moment.

A sudden loud knock at the door startled her out of any idea of what to do with her now-husband. She glanced at Hope, who was still staring at her with a stupid expression, before hiking up the skirt of her wedding gown and going to answer the insistent knocking. She hoped to whatever deity that was out there that it was a staff member of the hotel they were in. Surely they'd seen this before and would have a suggestion or two.

Instead, Lightning came face-to-face with the big lug who'd started this in the first place.

"Uh, hey. How's - "

Though she'd been friendly to him for years now, it appeared that when she was pissed off, Lightning's first instinct was still to punch Snow in the face, wedding dress or not.

Snow stumbled as though he was the drunk one, clutching his face after he was doing reeling. "What the hell?! I came up here to check up on you guys!"

"It's your fault he's in this mess in the first place!" she hissed in reply. Behind her, she could hear a thump and a fit of laughter. Likely that Hope had whacked his head against something, ugh. "You're the one that kept giving him drinks!"

"Hey, he's been nervous all day." Snow was still rubbing his face. "I thought the kid needed to loosen up."

"Getting him completely shitfaced wasn't the answer." She rolled her eyes, giving him a look of disgust. "Get out, Snow. You've done enough damage for one night."

"But - "

He was cut off when she slammed the door in his face. As she headed back over to Hope, she could hear more knocking and some unintelligible babble, but ignored it. Luckily, it was just a few minutes before he finally gave up, and Lightning was left with her incredibly intoxicated husband…who had apparently rolled off the spacious hotel bed and onto the floor. That explained the thump she'd heard, she supposed.

Having prior experience with this - though not that often, thank that nameless deity - Lightning sighed heavily and grabbed Hope's legs, physically dragging him to the spacious bathroom in their suite. It was a hassle, considering that she kept trying not to trip over her gown, something Hope seemed to find hilarious. This just pissed her off even more, so she yanked maybe a little too harshly on his hair when she lifted his head over the toilet. If it pained him, he made no indication, but that may have been from his sudden need to worship the porcelain god.

He looked considerably worse when he finally lifted his head, which made no sense to Lightning since surely pretty much all of the alcohol was out of him now. Still, his miserable expression got some sympathy from her…

…at least until he passed out half-slumped against the wall.

She rolled her eyes, sighing heavily. She'd been hoping he'd be able-bodied enough to at least make it to the bed, but that wasn't going to happen. Finally, she grabbed him from his underarms, using a sort of dragging/scooting method to get him out of there, taking care not to trip over her gown.

"I, Claire Farron," she muttered, not caring when she accidentally bonked his head against the bedframe from rough handling, "do take Hope Estheim as my husband…" She managed to get him to his feet, though she nearly fell over when he slumped against her, and literally tossed him onto the bed. He bounced on the mattress with a groan, but didn't open his eyes.

"To have and to hold," she continued under her breath, taking off his shoes and tossing them to the side, then pushed and manhandled him so she could get his suit jacket and tie off, "in sickness and in health…"

After she got the belt off, Lightning knew there was no point in trying to get more of his clothing off - she didn't need any more difficulties tonight. With another sigh, she managed to wriggle herself out of her wedding gown, tossing it over a chair and putting on a tank top and a pair of shorts in favor of the revealing lingerie she'd brought with her - there was no way in hell it was getting any use tonight, maybe not ever - and finally squeezed herself beside him, which was quite a task since Hope was sprawled out and taking up pretty much all of the bed.

Despite the fact that it was obvious he'd been sick and the stench of alcohol was still all over him, Lightning buried her face into his shoulder, a hand resting over his chest like she needed to reassure herself that this night was just temporary, murmuring the rest of her vow before she drifted off from sheer exhaustion.

"…For as long as we both shall live."

—

It was hours later when Hope finally opened his eyes, immediately glad that the room was dark, because he really didn't need anything to add to his throbbing head. He groaned, shifting around as he tried to find a position to lay in that didn't completely agonize him, but something - or someone - was holding onto his waist.

It took a second for his hazy mind to connect the pieces, but then it all fell into place. Of course, that was Lightning curled up next to him. They weren't at home; they were in the fancy hotel where they'd had their wedding reception because they were married.

Before he could think on this too hard, her eyes fluttered open and he was graced with that sight. He smiled automatically, though she only looked confused, then concerned, as she lifted a hand to run it through his hair, finally returning the smile at his noise of appreciation.

"Why do I feel like something the cat dragged in?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Because Snow's an idiot." Lightning sighed, scooting a little closer to rest her head on his shoulder. His arm snaked around her shoulders. "Don't ever drink with him again."

"Got it."

They lay like that for an undetermined amount of time. Hope wasn't even sure what time it was, but as it ticked on, guilt began to set in. He vaguely recalled his now brother-in-law dragging him to the open bar, and having one…two…three too many, and there were flashes of Lightning dragging him around like some kind of rag doll. He supposed it made for a memorable wedding night…just not the kind they'd been hoping for.

"Hope?"

"Yeah?"

He felt rather than saw her smirk. "You owe me a hell of a honeymoon."