Just Married Gays Guide

“Anywhere with a bookshop,” Jason answered without hesitation. “And coffee.” He tapped Mateo’s knee with his shoe. “You?”

The night deepened. The last guests gave their hugs and left, gifts and leftovers in tow. Mateo and Jason climbed into the small car that would shuttle them to the hotel, and the driver, kindly and curious in his own way, congratulated them. When the driver asked the usual question—where they were headed—Jason answered simply: “Home.” just married gays

“We could run away right now,” Mateo murmured, half-joking, half mean. The last guests gave their hugs and left,

Jason’s mouth curved. “And miss cake? Never.” Jason’s mouth curved

Tonight was not the end of any story; it was the opening of another. Their friends had lined the small courtyard in a loose semicircle, faces washed in candlelight. Parents clapped with a kind of fierce, relieved joy that made Mateo’s chest ache. Aunt Lorraine danced barefoot and waved a napkin like a banner. Somewhere in the crowd, Jason’s childhood friend Tom was busy debating the merits of two different bands for the reception playlist. Children chased each other between the adults’ legs and knocked over a stack of paper cranes, which dissolved into delighted shrieks and apologies.

“Where would you go, if you could pick any place?” Mateo asked.