Big Poppa ~ Part II

PART TWO

1.
Big Poppa turned to one side, then the other. He even turned his back to the mirror, looking over his shoulder. Turning back, he placed his hands on his hips in a defiant stance, smirking as he looked at his full body.
He was more toned, nowadays. He had even lost some weight -Mary had laughed so hard when he hoisted his pants up like he did, she couldn’t even tell Chapman what she had discovered- but he was still a big, heavy man. For once, his cock was resting peacefully on his heavy balls. It would be hard, if he wasn’t so edgy now. Thinking back at the previous night would normally be enough to grow instantly, no matter how often he had spilled his seed.
Still frowning, he leaned forward, to take a good look at his shaven head, and his cropped beard. He looked alright, didn’t he? Yeah. He did.
With a brief sigh, he finally stepped away from the mirror. He walked to the wardrobe, and took the clothes he had hanged at the door. New, black jeans, a dress-shirt. He buttoned up, leaving the top buttons open. He hated ties, and he wouldn’t even wear them tonight. He pulled new, black socks on, and spat on the toe of one of his boots. He had polished them. He didn’t know why, as they were still grubby, but he had done his best.
Finally, after a final glance in the mirror, he took the secretly kept box from the nightstand, and he went downstairs. Delwyn would be home soon, and he still had to do so much stuff... He wasn’t ready, not by far. Part of Poppa thought he wouldn’t be ready, ever, for what he was about to do. But still. He wanted to. Very badly.
He almost fainted when the door opened.

“Honey, I’m home!”

Poppa was quick. He ran through the living room, checking if he hadn’t forgotten anything. He never was a man to tidy up. He was sure he had left something behind. Quickly pushing an overlooked sock under the sofa, he abruptly straightened up when Delwyn stepped inside. “Hi!” he piped. “Did you... uh... get everything?”

Delwyn had been shopping, for another great week at the lake. It had been six months since the last, and the first, vacation they took. The bags were full and heavy. They dropped on the floor. Poppa followed a cabbage with his eyes as it rolled away.
“Poppa...” Delwyn’s voice was soft and surprised. “What on earth have you been doing?”

Poppa had a saying: If it was worth doing, it was worth overdoing. He didn’t believe it himself now, and he quickly glanced around. Too many roses? Maybe the rose-peddles on the floor, shaped in a heart, were a bit too much? Or the little stuffed bears on the sofa? The candles would be okay. They used them every evening.
His eye fell on the rug in front of the burning hearth. Oh gods, he groaned inwardly. He shouldn’t have used a fake bear rug...

“Oh, Poppa!” Over his initial shock, Delwyn stared at his large lover. “It’s beautiful! Is this all for me? Oh!” He began to walk around, slowly, looking at everything his man had done.

“Yeah...” Nervously, Poppa fiddled with the box in his hands. He swallowed with difficulty, his throat dry.

Delwyn stepped in front of him. “You look marvelous. Mm... And you smell nice too. Delicious. Would you like to tell me what this is all about?”

Without a word, forgetting to kiss Delwyn, Poppa dropped on his knees. “I...” He licked his dry lips, and tried again, “It’s exactly six months since we met,” he rumbled.

Backing away one step, Delwyn held his breath for a second. “Yes,” he nodded. Suddenly, he was nervous too. “To the day, Big Poppa...”

“I know I sort of mock-asked you this before. In the hotel. If you remember, anyway.” Of course he did. They just never mentioned it again. That was why Poppa was doing it all over again, but now for real. He opened the box, but didn’t show what was inside yet.
“I love being with you,” he continued, looking up. “I love living with you, and working with you every day. I love how you go home earlier than me, and take care of me. I love to make you breakfast in turn, every morning... I just...” He could go on forever, but shook his head. “I love you,” he said. He wondered why it was so laden, this time. He sure had said it many times before. Finally, he turned the box. “Marry me...”

Delwyn slapped his hands against his mouth to keep him from crying out. He looked at the precious wedding band, blinking so shamelessly against the night-blue velvet, and wanted to scream. “Yes!” he squeaked against the palms of his hands.

Poppa breathed out as if he had held his breath for hours. He took out the ring, and took Delwyn’s hand. He pushed the ring on the finger, and pulled him closer to kiss it. “You’re mine, officially. All it takes anymore are a few signatures. The notary has arranged everything. No matter what happens to either of us, it’s official.”

It was typical Poppa, to arrange something so important behind his back. This romantic setting was an achievement in itself. Delwyn didn’t object, simply ignoring the businesslike announcement, and knelt down. Wrapping his arms tight around the broad neck, he leaned in for a long, warm kiss.

Gently, Poppa drew back. “I want you to make yourself comfortable,” he said, pointing at the hearth. “I have bubbles and nibbles for us. I’ll be right back.”

Delwyn stood up, watching his lover leave the room, and looked around again. He was grinning broadly at the romance. He kicked off his shoes, pulled off his socks, but then he changed his mind. “Gonna refresh first!” he called out, quickly getting into the hall. He ran upstairs, to change into something more comfortable. As he came back, dressed in only one of Poppa’s huge shirts, he found his man waiting for him on the funny rug. He quickly joined him.

“Sign the papers,” Poppa nodded at the official document. “Or do you want to read them first?”

Trusting the man completely, or he wouldn’t have done it at all, Delwyn signed the pages. At the last page, he saw the name. If he signed that, his name would no longer be Delwyn Llew. It would be Delwyn Bowen-Llew. He held his breath, and signed it with precision. “You have a Welsh name,” he said quietly, when he had found his voice again. “You never told me...”

“You never asked me, either. Yes. That’s how I knew what your name meant, pretty... And look, here’s my name now.”

“Rhisiart Llew-Bowen...” Delwyn read it out loud, carefully, tasting the true name of his lover on his lips. “I can’t believe I never asked you.”

“Now you know. I’m still your Poppa, though. Here... Will you please put this one on my finger? Then it’s truly official.” The ring was more plain than Delwyn’s, but still a true wedding band. Poppa had never wore a ring before. He never thought he would voluntarily wear gold around his finger. “We’re done,” he said, almost inaudible. “You’re my husband now.” He would deliver the papers at the notary first thing in the morning. Gently taking Delwyn between his arms, as if he was suddenly afraid he would break him, he kissed him to seal the pact between them.

Delwyn leaned against him, comfortable in the warmth of the flames. He looked at his ring, still not sure if he was dreaming or not. He just got married... Not in a town hall or a church, as that would be impossible, but still. One glance at the papers on the table nearby told him that yes, he was now officially married to his big, bad man. With a pleased sigh, he pushed the man on his back, and crawled on top of him. “Forever yours,” he mumbled, before he kissed him passionately.