It’s their three month anniversary when Jean sits his parents down and explains that Marco finally wants to meet them. His father’s smile is almost contagiously bright, and he even forgets to sip his beloved coffee over the way Jean’s face blushes and he bites his lip with a shy smile. His mother stops reading the newspaper and looks over the rim of her thick glasses. “It’ll be fine, darling,” she says and squeezes his hand gently. Jean swallows and tells them about how Marco’s a little different and how much they’re in love, that Marco’s very nervous and please, please don’t bring up those embarrassing childhood stories. His mother grins and says that she won’t promise anything.
When Marco and Jean ring the doorbell a week later, his mother opens and immediately pulls Marco into a bone-crushing warm hug. Marco stares at her, wide-eyed, and their lip quivers around a watery, happy little smile when she gently asks which pronouns they’d like today and if they prefer coffee or tea along with sugar cookies. His father pats Marco’s back and has the family photo album tucked under his arm, whispering “you’ll love this” into Marco’s ear with a grin. Back home, hours later, Marco kisses his relief and happiness into Jean’s mouth and whispers thank you’s along through his fingertips dancing along Jean’s spine, lighting fire in his bones.
Moami 