Surprise
The sky had just shifted into twilight over Langley Falls. The beckoning sunlight breaching through the clouds that kept the sun's rays a prisoner from the city shined down on certain parts to the city, making the sky seem bright orange.
Greg was in a hurry. He spent three weeks preparing for this day and he was not gonna let an evil force like traffic slow him down.
"Come on," he hissed at the car in front of him. Greg could see that the driver-a teenage girl-was talking on the phone while driving through public neighborhoods. Greg Corbin-a republican that believed that all laws should be followed. But, at this point, he didn't give a rat's ass about his political beliefs. All he cared about was getting home as fast as he could. In his late thirties, Greg Corbin was at an average height with brown hair, a stocky build, a square-shaped face and green eyes.
Finally, the car in front of him turned down another street leaving the road in front of Greg clear for him to speed up.
"Girls," Greg scoffed. He never understood what it was with girls talking on the phone are caring about who-said-this or he-did-what and all that. It was things like that that made him proud to be a homosexual. In his early life, he could tell if he was strait, gay, or bisexual. He finally put his food down and told himself that he was strait and married a woman. At first, things were pretty well, for that relationship. That was until it down to the bed where he finally realized who he really was inside. While his wife was mad about marrying a man that didn't know who he was, she was happy that she helped him find out his true sexuality-which made the divorce much smoother than others.
Greg thought he was never gonna find happiness-his mother went estranged on him and she was the only family he had; he decided that if she couldn't respect her son for who he was, than he didn't need someone like her in his life-until he met Terry.
It was love at first sight. Greg and Terry saw each other from across the bar in D.C and they couldn't take their eyes off each other since. Now, after almost ten long years, Greg felt he was ready to something he wanted to do with Terry for a while, now. The things they've been through-having a daughter, Libby, through vitro fertilization, becoming one of the most popular news anchor duo along the eastern seaboard, renovation their kitchen, being shot-showed that he was ready to do this.
Regardless if his plan didn't work-even thought he fell very confident that it was going to work-and it all fell apart, Greg was ready to take this risk.
Greg pulled into his neighborhood and went down the list of things he had already done and not done yet:
"Libby's at the Smith's," Greg said to himself. Greg-and Terry-would not trust their baby in anyone else's hand but Francine. Who else would there be? She was Libby's surrogate mother and godmother. The only thing they were always nervous about, when putting their daughter in the hands of the Smiths was the chance of Stan kidnapping her again and taking her somewhere far away where they'd never see Libby's angel face again. However, not too long ago, Stan went forward with his promise of giving Greg and Terry a chance to raise a child and see how they would do as parents. Stan often sees Libby and her fathers' in their front yard enjoying themselves, laughing and playing like a normal family. That convinced Stan that she was gonna grow up to be a fine young lady.
"The wines in cooler, the chicken's dead, cooked, seasoned and ready to eat, the home video is finished and the…" Greg stopped and gasped. "Where is it?" At that time, he was already in the driveway with his dark-blue car with the front license plate that said "Pitch-r" on the front. He was starting to sweat. He felt around the pockets in his jacket feeling for a solid object that was worth more to Greg than his life. He down to the pockets in his pants and there was no sign of what he was looking for. "No," he gasped-almost squealing. He shifted over to the glove box in between the front seat and opened it. He found what he was looking for: a small, black-velvet box and a sealed envelope. Those two items were the most important thing to Greg, now. If didn't have those, everything that he spent the past weeks few weeks planning would be lost and all for nothing.
With everything set, there was one last thing Greg had to do: change his clothes. He was wearing the suit and tie he wore most of the time but he wanted this night to be a little different than most nights where Greg and Terry dined together alone. He wanted it to be more cut-loose and abnormal than usual.
Greg got out of his car and went into the house where he ran upstairs and into the bedroom. Once there he, stripped down to his boxer shorts revealing his pale skinned body that aroused Terry every time he saw Greg almost naked-or all naked, for that matter. Greg went to the closet and grabbed a dark-gray, deep-V necked shirt from the hanger. The shirt revealed the center of Greg's hairy yet muscular chest and the sides of his well-developed pectorals. After that, he grabbed a pair of tight jeans and slipped his bare feet into a pair of flip-flops.
Greg then moved into the bathroom where he looked at himself in the mirror.
"Okay," he sighed. "You can do this, Greg; for Terry." He reached over next to the sink where he grabbed a bottle of spray-on cologne and sprayed it across his upper body. It gave off a scent that made Greg smell like a felid of roses in an open field on a mild-spring day. He set the bottle down and took one last look at himself in the mirror.
"God, I hope this works."
Just then, the sound of a certain powdery-blue car that had the license plate "Catch-r" on the front came flowing into Greg's ears. "Here goes nothing."
Greg rushed downstairs and into the living room where he leaned himself up against the armrest of the couch in a pose. He kept his hands in his pockets-where he slipped the small box and the envelop into his pocket while he was changing-and relaxed his shoulders like he was some kind of poser, as she waited for Terry to come in.
From the other side of the door, Greg could hear his boyfriend singing Lady Gaga's "Born this way" to himself. Terry opened the door and stopped singing and froze as he saw the brunette leaning against the couch.
Terry Bates was in his early thirties with blond hair, a slender yet muscular build, blue eyes and a long head. Age difference was never an issue with Greg and Terry-it was not by a great margin and, while some found it hard to believe, Terry looked younger than his age and they never cared about what other people thought-yet, they loved each other and that was all they needed.
"Greg?" Terry said. He looked up and down Greg's body taking note of the attire he was wearing for the evening. "What's going on?"
"I have a special evening planned for us." Greg said.
"You do? What's the occasion?"
"I think all the more important questions will be answered later. Right now,"-Greg walked up to Terry, moved around him and places his hands on the blonds' shoulders-"I just wanna spend some time with you."
He's up to something. Terry thought. Greg had done things like this before but that always lead to them having sex and calling it a night. The way the brunette was dressed, the tone of his voice, and even way he touched Terry was abnormal that usual. He's doing something more than trying to seduce me-even though, it's already worked-with his clothes, that cologne he has and the look on his face, now, is more beautiful than I've ever seen it. Whatever's going on, I'll play along.
"Okay," Terry said. "Let me go change." Terry walked up the stairs-keeping his arms at his side and sticking his hands out and waving'em back and forth like he's wearing a dress-and moved with grace as he did. Greg kept his eyes on Terry until he was out of sight.
"Dinner," Greg whispered to himself. He bolted into the kitchen-their newly remodeled kitchen-and pulled a pan covered in aluminum foil out of the oven. He pulled the cover off revealing two cooked seasoned, breasts of chicken that Greg spent the entire day making. He moved them on to two plates and covered them. Just as he got into the dining room, he heard Terry coming down the stairs.
"Greg?" Terry called.
"In here, sweetie," Greg called out. The dining was small, covered in baby blue paintjob, and had a small Maplewood table in the middle. In the corner of the room was a wet bar where Greg and Terry made most of their exotic drinks. He set the plates down on opposite end of the table and turned around to the cupboard behind him and pulled out two wine glasses. Terry came into the room just as Greg pulled out the glasses and said:
"We hardly ever use this room."
"It's a special occasion." Greg mused. Terry changed out of his suit and into a tight muscle shirt that showed the outlines of his muscular abs and chest, a pair of shorts and sandals. Terry's eyes shifted to the two covered dishes on the table and arched his brows and widened his eyes.
"Ok," Terry chuckled, crossing his arms. "Who are you and what've you done with the real Greg Corbin?"
Greg scoffed-laughing and said: "He's right here, Terry."
"Greg doesn't cook." The blond protested.
"I learned," Greg countered.
"From…" Terry pressed.
"," Greg explained.
"I still don't buy it," Terry said.
"Ask me a question on the-real Greg-would know." The brunette demanded.
"What was the name of the bar we met at and-just to be sure-what songs did we dance too?" Terry asked.
Greg sighed. "You and I met ten years ago in D.C at a bar called The Rainbow, I had a few Budweiser's and you had three glasses of mimosa. Then we took off our shirts and danced to Michel Jackson's Smooth Criminal followed by Gun's N' Roses Welcome to the Jungle. After that, we went back to your place and made love for the first time."
"Ok," Terry said, with the click of his tongue. "It's you Greg. Sorry."
"I actually had a feeling you'd ask me that." Greg mused.
"Oh you," Terry said, like a flattered girl.
"Have a seat." Greg insisted. Terry sat down and Greg sat one of the wine glasses he had in front of Terry. He set the other on his side of the table and waved his finger at Terry, as he started to pull the lid of his dish. "Let me get the wine first."
"Okay," Terry said lowly. Greg left the room for a moment and the blond took the few moments he had and stared at the covered dish in front of him. Either something's head's gonna be under this when I open it or Greg really did make something. Then again, the last time Greg tried to cook, he burned two pans, his hand and that apron with the half naked guy on it. That was my favorite.
Terry was brought back to reality when Greg came back into the room with a wine bottle in his arm. The blond squinted at the bottle and his eyes went wide.
Terry gasped. "Cherry Chateau?"
"Yeah," the brunette confirmed.
"I've looked all over the place for that wine, how'd you find it?" Terry demanded.
"I know a guy."
Terry narrowed is eyes.
"Not like that." Greg assured him. "It wasn't easy but I tracked this baby down and picked it up for $500."
"Son of bitch," Terry hissed. He rose is glass to Greg. "Pour me some?"
"Of course," Greg opened the bottle and a bright red colored liquid poured out of the bottle and into Terry's glass. Terry took a small whiff of the drink and his senses went wild with the smell of a felid of cherries running through his nose. He took a sip and he felt his taste jump with excitement.
"Wow," Terry said.
"I knew you'd like it." Greg nodded. "Hungry?"
"Famished," Terry said.
Greg had done a better job at cooking then Terry thought he would. The chicken breast was not only tasty, but seasoning, spices and the special dipping sauce that came with the food made Terry feel like he'd never taste anything that good again.
"That was incredible." Terry sighed, putting his fork and knife down.
"I'm glad you liked it." Greg said.
"I think it was special 'cause it was made by you." Terry filtered. Greg blushed. "So you cook me an exquisite dinner and buy a wine that I feel like I wanna replace my blood with now, what's going on Greg."
"You'll see." Greg assured him. "There was something else I wanted to show you." Greg wiped his mouth off of any crumbs with a napkin, stood up and reached his hand across the table to Terry. "It's in the den." The blond took one last sip of the wine, stood up and took his boyfriend's hand and let him lead him into the den. Terry sat down on the long couch, while Greg popped a DVD into the player and pressed play.
"What movie is this?" Terry asked.
"It's a new movie." Greg said.
"What's it about?"
"The future." Greg whispered in Terry's in, as he sat down. Terry held Greg close and kept his eyes on the screen.
The movie opened up with a home video Greg recorded when they first moved to Langley Falls. Greg was holding the camera and kept it on Terry as he set up the living room.
"Home videos?" Terry cringed.
"It'll all make sense when it's over." Greg assured him.
The image on the screen changed to a news report that was filmed live from the sidelines of a gay pride parade in NYC a few years ago. The camera cut to a shot of floats where it showed drag queens, leather men, lesbians, and other gay men showing off their pride of who they were.
"Oh," Terry cooed, embarrassed. "Don't tell me this is the parade where I..."
Greg interrupted. "Yes it is."
Back on the screen, the image showed a float pass by where there were several men wearing half-shirts and short shorts. Amongst them were Greg and Terry. Terry stood out in the middle of the float and the rest of the guys stood back. The music on the loudspeakers changed to a disco-style sound when sparked Terry to dance in front of millions of people. He danced like there was no tomorrow and everyone-including the crowed-cheered on. Most of the men on the float were shouting this like:
"Work it!"
"Go baby."
"Shake that ass."
As he watched, Greg recalled he looked to the man that said "Shake that ass," and told him: "Stay back, that ass is mine."
As the brunette laughed at himself; recalling that memory, the image on the screen changed again to the day Libby was born. They were in her room setting up the crib, Francine's water broke, Greg freaked and tried to run, Terry slapped him and told him he could do this and the kiss they shared that made Terry remember how much of a baby Greg can be at times but he needed someone to comfort him when needed. Terry assumed that he was the only one capable of that.
Seeing that reminded Terry of the love he and Greg shared: not only did they have a lot in common that they've based their relationship on, but it was those connections that made them feel closer than ever when they think about it.
The next set of images-which was played along with a soft balled-was more home movies where it showed Greg and Terry playing with Libby, hosting parties, remodeling their kitchen, and a few short videos of Greg using the camera to check out Terry's hot body whenever he's by the pool sunbathing, exercising or any moment where Greg thought the blond looked hotter than he normally was.
Seeing all those old movies and news reports made Terry feel warm and fuzzy on this inside. I guess after so long he must have decided to show how much I mean to him. Terry thought slowly turned his head towards Greg. Seeing, this has made me realize how much I love him. The blond slid his body across the couch and got close to Greg as he could. He tilted his head to the side and rested it on Greg's shoulder like a pillow and wrapped his arms around his back and his iron-solid chest. Greg responded to this by taking his left arm and wrapping it around Terry's shoulder as the home movies played on. The last one was of Greg and Terry on the beach of Ibiza with Terry holding the camera and pointing it at Greg.
"Last day here!" Terry said.
"I wish I never have to leave this place." Greg said.
"What about it did you like?" Terry asked.
"Everything: the sun, the dance floor, the drinks, the beach and the sightseeing-if you know what I mean."
"Greg," Terry scowled.
"You know what I mean," Greg countered.
"I guess I don't." Terry responded.
"The sight of you walking out of the crystal ocean like your some kind of prince sent from the sea to live amongst us humans. The way your skin shines in the sun and the way walk in sand makes you look like your flying with grace."
There was an awkward silence from Terry (On the screen.). Terry-the one watching the video-remembered that vacation he and Greg took. It was when they were dating-before they became domestic partners. As Terry thought it over, he remembered something else that was special about that trip; more special that having a good time with the man he loved.
"Greg," the Terry on the TV blushed. Greg sat up from the beach chair he was sitting on and reached his arms out to Terry. The blond lowered the camera to his lap and clasped his hand in Terry's.
"Can I ask you something?" Greg asked.
"Anything," Terry said.
"When we get home-will you move in with me?"
Terry gasped. "Are you asking me to be your domestic partner?"
"Yes…." Greg confirmed.
The image on the screen went black and Terry was starting to shed tears.
"I almost forgot about that." He said.
"I'm glad you remembered." Greg said.
"Why'd you make that?" Terry demanded.
"'cause there's something I want to show you." Greg explained. He stood up, went up to the DVD player, removed the disk and put in another that was on top of the player.
"What's this one?" Terry asked.
"This gonna air tomorrow morning." Greg went on. "I wanted to show you this first and see what you thought of it."
"Did you record this earlier?"
"Yes,"
Terry looked to the screen and it opened up with Greg sitting at the news desk at the station.
"Good morning," Greg said in a soft voice to the viewers-or in this case viewer. "I'm Greg Corbin with a special report that goes out to all gays out there in the state of Virginia. It has come to this station's ears that the governor of this state has-in secret-passed a law that'll allow-for a temporary amount of time-to let gay people of this state to get married."
A razor sharp chill was sent down Terry's spine. His eyes went wide with a total looked of shock and surprise across his features. He could feel his heart drum in his chest and glands of sweat started to run down his face. His lower jaw started to bounce up and down. He turned his head-which he found was nearly impossible-over to Greg who had a much more relaxed face. Finally the long silence was broken.
"No," Terry choked.
"Yes." Greg nodded. The brunette then moved his fingers across Terry's face and turned his face over back to the screen where there was more to Greg's story.
"A few months ago, the governor was contacted by the Log Cabin Republicans with an appeal to approve a law that'll allow gays to get married. While the governor retorted this idea, he knew it was unethical to reject the request presented by the LCP. The next few months followed with several denials by his fellow-republican-politicians. Governor, however, finally put his foot down and asked for a temporary window for same-sex marriage. This was approved and the official document has been signed. In a week's time-for only a few weeks-gays will be able to marry and have the same rights as regular couples."
The screen went blank. Terry sat their frozen, not moving a muscle. Greg stood up and got in front of Terry. Terry moved his head up to look at Greg smiling at him.
"How is this possible?" Terry gasped.
"It just is." Greg said and sighed. "There was another time when I wanted to do this. It was that time you gave your job a chance to accept you for who you were. He said no and I said you didn't need someone like him in your life. Then you said: 'No, I don't need him in our life.' In that moment, I felt more in love with you than I've ever been in my life. And-if I could-I would have stopped time itself, go to a jewelry store, head back to the stadium with time still stopped….and when I'd make time normal again…"
Greg got down to one knee.
"I would have gone down to this one knee…" he reached into his pocket and pulled out the black velvet box and held it in the palm of his hand. "…and present you with this ring."
He opened the box and the ring that was nested in the black satin. The ring's band was dark-sliver color that would sparkle like magic in the dim light. Imbedded in the ring were the words: My angel, my soul, and my love written in a cursive writing style. Like a magnet, Terry stocked the band of the ring and kept his eyes fixed on the letters in the band.
"It's beautiful." Terry whispered.
"You like it?"
"What's not to like?" Terry countered. "It's from you-that's what makes it special."
"Terry Bates?" Greg said. He pulled the ring out of box, took the middle finger on Terry's right hand and slipped the ring on to his finger. "If you take this ring, I promise to love you every single day, with every breath I take for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?"
Terry slid off the couch, got down to both knees, grabbed Greg's free hand with his own and moved his head in close to his face.
"Yes." He whispered. They leaned their heads into each other and embraced with a passionate kiss that symbolized the start of their eternal love that'll last forever.
One week later:
The wedding bells chimed from the church across from city hall. The bill stated that the marriages will be performed by priests at both city hall and the church. On the first day, Greg and Terry were already in line waited for their turn. While they we're anxious to do this, they already had two things with'em that were comforting enough to make the time pass. The first thing was a real marriage license. In the sealed envelope Greg had on him, when he asked Terry to marry him was a blank marriage license where they recorded themselves writing their signatures on the blank lines. They gave Stan and Francine back the one they won during that home-remodeling bet and told them they were invited to see them wed. In a matter speaking Stan was at the wedding but he wasn't with Greg and Terry while they waited.
Being a CIA agent, Stan was assigned to an anti-terror task force that was specifically made for the next few weeks, while the bill was in effect. After the bill was announced, already there were extremists threatening to blow away city hall and the church if they let gays get married. Luckily the CIA had the entire area covered in a three block radius. Even if someone had so much as a box cutter hidden on their person, the CIA would be on them in a flash of the blade.
Greg and Terry knew Stan would be watching from one of the several cameras placed around the area. Either way-if Stan was there or not-they considered Stan to be their best man.
The other thing that was with Greg and Terry that helped them make the time go by for their wait was their daughter in the arms of Francine, standing in line with them. Francine wore a long flowing skirt with a button up blouse to go with it. Some of the lesbians around them couldn't keep their eyes off Francine. While she was felt awkward about that she kept close to Greg and Terry and entertained Libby for the long wait. Libby was looking great herself. Terry and Greg had the pleasure of finding her a flowery white dress that everyone said made her look like an angel. She really was an angel: she had Greg's face, Terry's blond hair, Greg's eyes, and hint of beauty from her surrogate mother.
Finally, after four hours of waiting, it was Greg and Terry's turn to stand in front of the priest. They both wore their suits and ties and they were ready for this moment. They looked to each other, held their hands and moved off the priest.
"We are gathered here today to join these two men in holy matrimony. If there is anyone here who believes these two should not marry, please speak now or forever hold thy peace."
Nothing happened.
"Very well," the priest murmured. "Do you, Greg Corbin take this man to be your husband, in sickness and in health? For as long as you both shall live?"
"I do." Greg said.
Terry almost squealed. Francine perked her cheeks up and gave smile.
"And do you, Terry Bates take this man to your husband. Will you love, cherish him and comfort him, for as long as you both shall live?"
"I do." Terry whispered.
"Then by the power invested in me by the state of Virginia and faith in the lord, our God, Greg Corbin, you may now kiss your husband."
"You don't have to tell me twice." Greg said. He stepped forward and kissed Terry on the lips. The blond embraced his husband's love by wrapping his arms around his torso and kicking one of his legs up. Meters away, in Francine's arms, Libby, cooed and laughed at the sight of her father's being happier than she had ever seen them before.
Francine stepped up to the now married couple, handed their angel-Libby-off to them and hugged them both.
Now married men, in the eyes of the government as equals, Greg and Terry were ready to start a life together with a love stronger than the one they had before or any other form of love that'd come their way in the future.