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Something stolen, something blue

Summary:

Today is the day of Andrés de Fonollosa’s very last wedding.

A significant and final event. And yet, as the groom takes his time getting ready on the morning of his nuptials, everything is perfectly quiet and calm around him. There is no fuss, and there is no hesitation. At least, not on his part.

~~~

OR: The Berlermo Wedding Fic to follow my Berlermo Proposal Fic. Can still be read as a stand-alone.

Notes:

This story is a sequel to the events of Specks of gold, but you won't be lost if you haven't read it.
It's a multi-chapter this time, even though it all takes place during One Day (you can guess which day). No angst. No intrigue. Only fluff. Multiple points of view and everything.

This is a gift for the wonderful dashwood / @sorrydearie, who always lets me ramble on about headcanons and offers her precious input and ideas. If you like something in this fic, chances are she helped me come up with it. So talented it should be illegal. Please stan her.

This one goes in the Berlermo Bingo as well, in the Wedding Fic category this time! (I know it's the same box as Proposal, I do what I want, different fic, different bingo).

The series title, “We move like the sea”, is a line from the song I Feel Free by Cream.

UPDATE: there is now a translation of this story into Russian, credit once again to purrfect_angel.
And also a Spanish translation, thanks to Ro.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: So many ways this could go wrong

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Today is the day of Andrés de Fonollosa’s very last wedding.

A significant and final event. And yet, as the groom takes his time getting ready on the morning of his nuptials, everything is perfectly quiet and calm around him. There is no fuss, and there is no hesitation. At least, not on his part.

The looming celebration has been in the works for quite some time, alarming and inevitable. But the day has come, and the man that Andrés designated as his best man feels perfectly fine about it. Which is a surprise to most, himself included. 

Sergio has spent these past few months on his toes, bracing himself for this whole thing to backfire in a spectacular way. Andrés and Martín’s engagement. 

These two were chaotic from the very beginning. His brother was prone to making the absolute worst decisions, romantically speaking. Too passionate to see the flaws in those he pursues. Which makes every relationship he’s ever entered a powder keg. The day he met Martín, all Sergio could see in him was this unsettling spark in his eyes. He was the match that would light Andrés and blow everything up in the process. Wild and unpredictable. 

And those were the men Sergio chose to plan, not one, but two heists with him. Successfully.

Sometimes, he would wake up with a jolt in the middle of the night, panting and covered in sweat, still coming down from the realization that they all made it out of the bank. With the gold. With their lives

And right after the heist, of course, there was the proposal. 

That day on the boat, when Raquel tugged at his arm to get his attention, he thought she was joking. 

“I think your brother is about to get proposed to.”

Sergio felt something he’d never felt outside of the heists before. Something like foreboding. A bone-chilling sense of dread.  

Hora cero. The bombs have been activated, Professor.

This was worse than the heists. This was the one thing that would wipe them out entirely. 

Andrés had changed quite a bit in the years he’d known Martín. He grew bolder, more passionate. Dangerous too. Even more so after they chose to pursue each other romantically, since that dreadful night in Florence five years ago. The exact thing Sergio had just warned Andrés against. How miscalculated that move had been on his part.

And yet, the two of them seemed to thrive together. In a codependent, dysfunctional way. Unlike anything Sergio had seen before. But his brother claimed to have found in Martín the secret to his own salvation, so Sergio was left with no choice but to be happy for them. And he had been, genuinely. More than a little stunned that it had worked out so far. But happy. Pleasantly surprised. 

An engagement, however, was a whole other story. One that could only end badly, based on Andrés’s history. Sergio knew all too well what planning a wedding, what getting married, turned his brother into. He’d gone through it five times already. And it had never been pretty.

That day, on the deck, it was the sound of Denver’s laugh that dragged Sergio away from his bleak reflection.

“Are you seeing this, Professor? Is this fucking real?”

“It seems so”, he replied in a daze.

“No it’s not! I mean, you know them, right?”, Denver continued between two fits of laughter. “The kind of people they are? Getting married? It’s so not happening. I’m telling you, we won’t see the day!”

That was what Sergio had been fearing as well. He was no longer blind to his brother’s darkest tendencies. And Martín… well, the man wasn’t exactly what he’d call emotionally stable. Neither of them was an ideal choice to marry. Let alone, marry each other.  

But still, Sergio was taken aback when he looked at Andrés, in this moment. Holding Martín in his arms like he was the most precious thing he’d ever touched. Laughing as he wiped the tears he thought they couldn’t see. Rushing below deck, unbothered and wild and free. Sergio had looked, and maybe he’d seen something else. An opportunity to hope for the best, for once.

The months that followed went by surprisingly fast, and Sergio’s initial pessimism was proven wrong each and every day. And he wasn’t the only one. 

He remembers that video call, the look on Denver’s face when Palermo informed him he’d just been appointed as his best man. He didn’t ask him if he wanted the job, he just told him point blank. And of course, he made it sound like he was doing the boy a favor. 

“It was so unlikely that there would even be an opening for you! Wouldn’t you know, my obvious choice for a best man isn’t available on my wedding day. Prior commitment. Apparently, he’s getting married too, can you believe? I mean, Denver, what are the chances? That my best friend and I would get married on the exact same day, uh? It’s uncanny! So really, you should feel incredibly lucky that you were even considered.” 

Once the initial shock wore off, Denver ended up taking his position as a best man very seriously. Perhaps, too seriously, if there is any truth to the rumors circulating about the bachelor party Denver threw for Martín, last week in Athens. Sergio heard many outrageous stories about that night. Some of the anecdotes contradict themselves. But he was shown a few videos, and could piece a few things together. There are at least three events that definitely occurred. 

Firstly, a party bus full of male strippers was involved - courtesy of the overzealous best man - and said strippers ended up being bribed by Martín to ensure that Denver received more lap dances than anyone else. 

Secondly, the bachelor party somehow involved a private nighttime visit in a museum, with allegations of the party bus being inside the building at some point (unconfirmed). 

And thirdly, that fateful night included a trip to the emergency room due to, not one, but two allergic reactions to body glitter. Río and Manila bonded over their shared pain in the waiting room.

But it wasn't only the bachelor party. Denver was also the one to blame for the choice of wedding location. It was just an offhand comment about how Berlín was “such a pretentious asshole he would end up getting married in some sort of Dracula-looking castle or something”. Andrés had just smiled and refrained from commenting - which should have rung some alarms - and he came to Sergio a mere three days later with pictures of the Palace of the Grand Master. It isn't even remotely Dracula-looking, but it is very much of a castle of Gothic architectural style, located by the seaside somewhere in the Greek archipelago. Denver considered it an unmitigated victory, obviously.

Every time Martín face-timed with his best man - at least once a week for the past few months - Sergio could hear Andrés huff and puff, saw him roll his eyes and shake his head, quite ostensibly. Allegedly annoyed by his fiancé’s enthusiastic rants. But Sergio also saw the barely contained smiles on his face, heard the muffled laughs. Andrés couldn't help but be amused. Proud, even. 

And just like that, Sergio simply decided to give this a chance. Now that he’d started seeing it, there was no going back. He saw every day how the prospect of getting married made them happy. Hell, how it made them better. And worse, too. The screaming matches for petty reasons. The equally loud reconciliations. The silences, somehow worse than the yelling. 

But Sergio was a big picture kind of guy, and he saw, eventually, how this could be good. How, against all odds, this might actually be the best case scenario for his brother. And for Martín as well. It took him six months, the six months that went by since the proposal - or maybe it took him five years, really - but Sergio did come around. 

And here he is, on his brother’s wedding day, finally having made his peace with the notion that Martín Berrote is about to become his brother in law. Still, he can’t help but worry. The Professor never truly left him after the heists ended. And today of all days, he feels the persona, heavy on his shoulders.

On the Island of Rhodes, inside the imposing Gothic palace by the sea, Sergio is pacing back and forth on the stone floors. It’s just the two of them, in this luxury bedroom Andrés claimed as his dressing room for the day. A gentle breeze is coming in through the open window, and yet Sergio feels warm and stuffy in his suit. He knows it can’t all be blamed on the late summer weather.

Andrés just admires himself in one of the many floor length mirrors on the wall. His burgundy blazer really suits him, as Sergio was forced to remind him several times today. But no matter how exquisite the velvet is, or how nicely the color flatters his complexion, Sergio cannot help but think Andrés looks dangerous in it. The dark shade, an echo of red jumpsuits stained with blood.

Sergio keeps throwing nervous glances through the window. The gardens outside are empty. And the ruins of the medieval church remain deserted, this early in the morning. Still, he feels uncomfortable. Exposed. He really wishes he’d brought some origami paper.

“Stop fidgeting, hermanito”, Andrés intervenes, a smile in his voice. “It’s me who should be nervous.”

His brother never liked having the attention pulled away from him. Especially on days like this one. And so, Andrés goes on.

“But am I nervous? Just look at me. Calm and serene. Not a single wrinkle. And that, dear brother, is because I don’t frown. Unlike you right now. Why can’t you share my joy? It’s this place, Sergio. I swear I can sense the gods smiling down at us.”

Sergio wants to comment on his brother's shameless lie about wrinkles. Andrés does look great, but he's not thirty anymore. Instead, he decides to voice his concerns. Again.

“This is a terrible idea”, he says, for what feels like the hundredth time. “Andrés, there are so many ways this could go wrong and-”

“You can stop right there”, his brother interjects, and his tone is suddenly cutting.

Andrés looks away from the mirror and straight at him. His upbeat demeanor has vanished, replaced by an intimidating posture and an icy stare that pins Sergio on the spot. 

When Andrés speaks again, it’s Berlín’s voice that Sergio hears.

“You won’t talk me out of this, Professor. I’m insulted that you would even try. I will not hear it. Not today. Spend the rest of the year whining about him if you have to, but por favor, not today.”

Sergio does a double take, stunned.

“I’m not- I wasn’t- Andrés, this isn’t about Martín.”

“You’re right, it isn’t. This is about respect. I know you two aren’t exactly friends, but I exp-”

“No, you don’t understand!”, Sergio protests, tired of his brother’s self righteous tirades. “I’m fine with you marrying him, I really am. More than fine, actually. This might be the best thing that could have happened to you. No, Andrés, I’m talking about this place. Greece. Europe. We said-”

Andrés's roaring laughter cuts him off.

“You said no to the Tour Eiffel, and you said no to the Colosseum. If you think I'm backing out now, you don't know a single thing about me. I already went out of my way to accommodate your anxieties, Sergio. Enough is enough.”

Andrés is in a drastically better mood than a moment ago, but his tone is final. He turns his back to Sergio before he can get another word in. 

He fiddles with his hair, probably for the fifth time. He looks fine already. Sergio isn’t even sure what needs fixing. Then a smile slowly appears on his brother’s face as he catches his eye in the mirror.

“So... Martín is the best thing that could happen to me, now?”

“Don’t make me repeat it.”

“Humor me, will you? After all, it’s my wedding day.”

This is the twenty-seventh time Andrés has reminded him in the last hour. Sergio isn’t anywhere close to forgetting it.

“He’s grown on you, hasn’t he?”, Andrés continues, amused. “What eventually persuaded you? The lavish lifestyle we can all afford thanks to Martín’s brilliant mind? Or is it the heartwarming speech he gave at the rehearsal dinner?”

He shivers. This heartwarming speech was one of the most obscene things he’d ever heard. Sergio’s chair nearly toppled over in his hurry to cover Paula’s ears (Cincinnati, thankfully, was already asleep by then). 

And now, Andrés is looking at Sergio expectantly - waiting for him to shower Martín with praise - after he just refreshed his memory about yesterday. He knows his brother well enough to assume he did that on purpose.

“You know it’s not- He’s always been, um- a bit much.”

Andrés widens his eyes in mock indignation. It’s not as charming as he thinks it is.

“Are you really going to besmirch the good name of the spouse I have chosen? On the day of our union?”

And here comes the twenty-eighth mention that Andrés is getting married. 

“I like how happy he's making you”, Sergio concedes. “And I don’t think he could ever leave you even if he tried.”

“That's better. You may continue.”

“I know he really loves you. Way more than any of the others.” 

Andrés winces at that. As though he’d forgotten he was married before, up until Sergio had the gall to bring it up. Knowing how self-centered he could get, perhaps he did forget. Regardless, Sergio keeps talking. 

“And, well, it just took me a while to see- to understand that Martín could be good for you. Maybe I was- I was wrong to think this engagement was a mistake.”

Andrés nearly drops the card he’s holding. His wedding vows.

“You thought it was a mistake?”, he asks, smiling in disbelief. “And you never said anything? I’m not sure I recognize you today, hermanito.”

“Listen. Just because I’m not worried about the two of you, doesn’t mean it’s not a bad idea. The island welcomes a lot of tourists this time of year.”

“We’ve booked the entire estate, no one will randomly walk in. I even assigned Río and Tokyo as lookouts, just as a precaution.”

He looks proud of himself, like he’s waiting for Sergio to gush over how careful he’s being. Well, he can wait.

“You’re not in the bank anymore Andrés, you can’t just order them around like that.”

“I can do whatever I want, it’s my wedding day.”

Twenty-nine times. Thank god for that. Sergio would have forgotten otherwise.

“I probably did everyone a favor.” Andrés continues. “Their relationship sets a bad example, they emit toxic energies, Sergio. Their mere presence could have upset Martín.”

Sergio smiles at that. Andrés did grow soft.

“Besides, I’m sure they’d rather be frolicking in the outdoors than tending to Martín’s needs, right now. Or to mine, for that matter.”

“They broke up again”, Sergio explains. “Sending them together isn’t a good move either.”

“What is it, the third time? How am I expected to keep up? Is there anything else I should know? Is Lisbon having an affair? With Helsinki?”

“I know you think you’re extremely funny, but please don’t joke about that”, Sergio sighs. 

Andrés puts a hand on his shoulder, and Sergio realizes he’s been fidgeting again. He stops.

“You’re nervous about Raquel”, he says with a knowing smile. “You don’t need to be. Marriage is a blessing, hermanito! And you will marry this one.”

“You don’t know that”, Sergio retorts, regretting - not for the first time - ever discussing the topic with his brother.

“Of course I know”, Andrés reassures him, and he does seem pretty sure. “The woman uprooted her entire life for you. Followed you halfway across the globe with mother and child. She's not scared of commitment.”

Sergio wants to believe him. Andrés keeps talking.

“I still believe the proposal will happen here”, he taunts. “Have you even looked around? You won’t find anything like that back home.”

“I thought I was forbidden from proposing at your wedding.”

“Of course you are! It would be extremely vulgar and tasteless of you”, Andrés rants. “I didn’t mean today. Martín and I have booked the castle for another week. You don’t need to leave tonight.”

Sergio is genuinely touched by his brother’s optimism. By his- hospitality. But he’s also in quite a hurry to put as much distance between his family and Europe as he possibly can.

“I’m not sticking around after the wedding. It’s way too dangerous”, Sergio explains. “Besides, I know how you and Martín get. I won't be the only one rushing out the door before you two start getting- um…”

“Intertwined?”

Andrés has a shit-eating grin and Sergio sends him a death glare.

“Please, never say that again.” 

“Deem yourself lucky. My beloved would have phrased it differently.”

He’s got a point. Sergio’s memory is providing him with several of the lewd comments and innuendos he’s had to suffer from his future brother in law. There are so many traumatizing examples to choose from. From the rehearsal dinner alone…

Before Sergio’s mind can torture him further, the heavy, engraved double-doors are being pushed open.

“We’re ready to go!”, Denver announces, panting as he rushes through the doorway. “Mónica is done coaching Cincinnati, he’ll be waiting with the rings!”

“Oh, we're not doing that”, Andrés casually announces, and based on the look on Denver’s face, this is clearly a blow for him. 

“Why not? I swear Berlín, he’ll be the best ring bearer you’ve ever had. At least don’t say no until you’ve seen him in his little suit. He's so cute, he’ll melt your heart!”

Sergio feels bad for him. Poor Denver was sorely mistaken if he thought that was the argument that would sway his brother.

“He's a child”, Andrés says, disdain clear in his voice. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t trust Río to hand over the rings, and he's the youngest age I find tolerable.”

“He's twenty-three, Berlín”, Denver objects. “And I’ve seen you put a handgun in his hands. Today!”

“A handgun is harder to lose than a pair of rings, even for a child.”

Sergio smiles knowingly. Andrés is not telling the whole truth about his apparent disdain for children. Not that he would contradict his brother in front of Denver. But he does know that Andrés has been getting along with Paula quite a bit, in the little corner of paradise they call home. Andrés deems the girl bright and curious, and often probes her for embarrassing stories about her boring step-father. Paula likes that Andrés actually listens to what she has to say, be it about books or art or her family, and she appreciates that he never speaks to her in a patronizing tone. Or maybe he does, it’s hard to tell the difference. The truth is Andrés has never had to interact with a child before, so he never learned how. He just spoke to Paula like he would anyone else. Sergio has been quite surprised at how comfortable they all have been, spending time together even when they didn’t need to. He’s still thankful for the fact that Andrés and Martín have their own separate house, down the street from where he lives with Raquel and her family. But they do spend most days together. Who would have thought his brother would take a liking to this familial aesthetic? 

Andrés is looking at Denver in the doorway, his lips twisted in displeasure.

“You're still here”, he observes with reproach in his tone. “Weren't you supposed to be with Martín today? I believe he drew the short straw when we assigned you.”

“Come on, you know I’m his best man.”

“If that’s what you insist on calling it. Well, shouldn’t you be in his room, then?”

Everyone is in his room! He's spiraling.”

Denver’s eyes widen as he seems to realize what he just blurted out.

“Is he, now?”, Andrés asks, raising a single eyebrow.

His tone is even, his composure impeccable. Not betraying an ounce of concern on his part. But Sergio knows him better than that. His brother is worried. Denver stumbles over his words as he answers.

“I mean, not- not spiraling, and you definitely shouldn't go see him right now. But it’s just- Palermo has been diffic- uh, very emotional, is all.”

Sergio is surprised his brother is still standing by his side - as opposed to shoving Denver away and rushing through the doors while shouting at the top of his lungs. 

Rarely has he heard someone blurt out so many wrong things in a row. On the list of things that can set Andrés off, expressing concern about Martín is pretty high. So is telling him what to do, or in this case, not to do.

“Denver”, Sergio warns.

“Wha- But he is emotional! He thinks the decorations are too simple, and that mister-wedding-expert over here is gonna hate the flowers.”

“Now that's just nonsense. I checked on them when they arrived. They’re perfect.”

“Palermo said they’re not the ones you picked”, Denver explains miserably.

“There was a slight mix-up with the order, it’s true”, Andrés concedes, and this is the first time Sergio is hearing about it. “But the florist was very apologetic, and she made wonderful last minute arrangements. Those flowers are gorgeous. Timely.”

Sergio, for the first time today, actually worries about Andrés. It’s not like him to be this accommodating. Something similar happened at his third wedding, a mix-up with catering. And Sergio had to physically stop him from strangling someone. Twice. But today, Andrés is being reasonable? It just doesn’t add up.

Before he can ask, Nairobi barges in too.

“Denver, thank god you’re here, I need-”

“Good morning to you too, Nairobi”, Andrés interrupts, sarcasm dripping from his entire being. “I’m in the room as well, in case you hadn’t noticed. Or am I no longer a priority, today?”

She gives him a quick once-over as she keeps talking, aligning words at full speed without taking any breaths.

“Yes, Berlín, I see you. Cool suit, very handsome, gonna soak a lot of panties today- Denver, I need to talk to you. Now.”

Denver looks defeated as he replies.

“It’s okay, you can say it in front of them. I- I kind of let it out already.”

Nairobi puts a comforting hand on his forearm before turning to face them.

“Alright then, one of you two ”, she says as she points to Sergio and Denver, “needs to fire the musicians. I don't know what the fuck happened, but they were in there for like ten seconds and Palermo started bawling. I believe he’s cursed everybody out and he- well, he broke things.”

“I'll go talk to him.”

Nairobi raises her hands at Andrés, standing between him and the doorway.

“No no no Berlín… Berlín! You know it's bad luck.”

“Don't you know by now that luck is on our side, Nairobi?”, Andrés huffs, laughter in his voice. “Superstition simply doesn't affect us. Haven’t you seen the statue right outside in the courtyard? Fortuna. I don’t suppose you brushed up on your divinities before showing up today. Well, if you had, you would know that she’s-”

“She’s the Greek goddess of luck and good fortune!”

Sergio doesn’t know if he’s more shocked at Río peeking his head through the door and cutting him off, or amused at the face his brother is pulling right now.

“You sent us to the gardens with nothing to do”, Río explains after a moment of silence, slightly out of breath. “You’re not the only one who can read a plaque, you know.”

“Why are you here?”, Sergio asks.

“To call you both to the altar”, Río announces with a smile. “Everything’s handled.”

“And Martín?”, Andrés worries.

“Tokyo says it’s fine.”

Andrés lets out a laugh, and there’s no humor in it.

“Well, now I really need to check on him.”

Before he can, a fourth head appears in the doorway. 

“Tokyo, feel free to join us. Please, tell me you weren’t just with my fiancé.”

“What? No, I barely spoke to Palermo today”, she snaps defensively. “I went looking for the girl. Nice. Very pretty! She didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Well, she must’ve done something”, Nairobi intervenes.

“I was there when she spoke to him”, Tokyo insists. “All she said was some generic congrats. Nothing weird. Which means, there’s nothing to fix. Whatever stages of grief he's going through right now, it's on him. Probably on Berlín too.”

“Thank you so much Tokyo for your words of comfort”, Andrés mocks. “Now all of you, move out of the way so I may have a word with my husband to be.”

Río and Denver try blocking the doorway, but before Nairobi can shut the heavy wooden panels, they hear a very distinct shout. 

“La concha de tu madre!”  

It echoes across the corridor quite beautifully. Well, Andrés did gush over the acoustics of this place. 

Sergio sighs.

“Maybe you should talk to Martín.” 

Notes:

No need to panic, maybe Martín just ran out of milk or something…

~~~

« You know those days where you're like, this might as well happen? » - John Mulaney