go back five years. no, go back fifteen —– he can still see it, a memory star bright among others, standing out from the thousands that litter his mind. the first day they met. he’s looking for holos on pilots of great fame ( rogue squadron, wedge antilles, if he can find it ) and it takes a minute to feel the presence there. to see he’s not alone. eyes flicker up to find a set steady on him, and he’s not sure if he’s FABRICATING the jolt. the way his nerves sparked, maybe out of surprise, maybe something more. that moment, right there, had he already known? did he know, right from then, what their fate would be? it seems like it now. every glance is made meaningful in his memory, every shared talk. but the truth is, he hadn’t. it’s still hard to believe —– even here, even now, with a ring on his hand, the mirror of it echoed on poe’s. even with the VOWS repeated on his lips, spoken softer against their hushed privacy. his own mouth is twisting, corners rising up in an unhindered smile. he’s never been a romantic at heart ( but maybe it had taken another one, a shared pulse to truly set his to beating ). fingers hook in the constraints of his tie. for once, he’s had enough of the formalities; even now, the party is well underway, waiting for the two men to finally join them. and they will —– but not yet. the hand slides away, seeks the warmth of the man’s beside him. his husband. he’s already smiling again ( more likely still, he’s yet to stop. ) “ until then, ” he echoes. draws their hands up, something uncharacteristically tender in the way his lips brush over knuckles. in the way they meet his.