Purplephone One Shots

"????????" AU #4

<< As a member of the LGBTQ+ community, I'd like to bring some awareness to this story. I have an amazing platform: this story has almost 15k reads at the time of posting this, so I want people to know that the fight for rights is not over. This is a letter from 2016, as shocking as that may seem. The names of this lovely couple have been omitted for their privacy. No matter if you're a lesbian, a gay man, bisexual, pansexual, polysexual, demisexual, asexual, or somewhere else on the spectrum, our struggle is not yet over. But we're getting closer by the day. And it comes down to you. >>

"How could somebody do this?"

Vincent sobbed into the sleeves of his suit, head down on a table. He didn't even care that the jacket was getting soaked; everything was ruined anyway, what did a lousy tuxedo matter?

Balled up in his hand was a note from a coworker at the restaurant. A cruel, heartless note from a cruel, heartless person who thought that a couple's genders prevailed over their love for one another. He threw it to the ground, stomping on it, but it did nothing to delay the inevitable.

Protestors were coming to what was supposed to be the happiest day of his life.

Scott walked out, placing a hand on Vincent's back. He was just as devastated about it. He'd saved up for ages to propose to Vincent, and they'd both worked together to get everything nicely planned, and now people were going to try to ruin it.

... but that was exactly it. They could try. But he wouldn't let them.

"Vincent?" He spoke softly. "Vincent, look at me."

Vincent looked up, still shuddering and sobbing. Scott wiped the tears away with his thumb, then gently caressed his fiancé's face.

"You're not going to let them see you like this. You're not going to let yourself be defeated... you can cry, it's okay. But not in front of them. They're not going to win. We're not going to let them ruin this. Ruin us. Okay?"

Vincent gave a determined little sniffle, and smiled as much as he could. "Okay."

Scott pulled Vincent up from the table, kissing his damp cheek. "It's about time to get going. Are you ready?"

"Are you kidding? It feels like I've been waiting my whole life for this."

The shouting was all white noise, the signs protestors held just forming little rainbows out of the corner of the men's eyes. They walked into the church, where family and dear friends were already waiting.

There was Mike, who hollered as the pair walked in, and Jeremy, who was stuttering and trying to pull Mike back into his seat. Fritz, their blonde-haired, slightly inept fellow night guard, sat in the back row and waved, his prosthetic leg crossed over his real one. Scott spotted his parents sitting in the front row, dressed sharply in a suit and a dress, respectively. Vincent's parents, sitting beside them, were having none of that. In fact, his mother was wearing a shirt reading "I Love My Gay Son!". Vincent's father, however, had a shirt that said "I Hate My Gay Son, But Not Because He's Gay, Because He's Just An A**hole." It looked like it'd taken considerable effort to cram on all those words.

The couple walked up to the altar, hand in hand, walking through vows they'd rehearsed a hundred times before. They both still cried during them, of course, as did much of the audience.

"Vincent," said the pastor, "do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded groom?"

"I do!" He grinned.

"And you, Scott. Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded groom?"

"I do."

"I know pronounce you groom and groom. Now kiss!"

And that's exactly what they did.