It was Mr. Barlow's wedding - Donny's favorite teacher, openly queer, wise in the way that made students feel held. He was marrying his partner of seventeen years in a garden lit with fairy lights and soft violin.
Benjamin had tears before the vows even began. Christopher held his hand, whispering, "Don't cry yet. You'll flood the lavender bushes."
Donny grinned, nestled between them, wearing his best blue blazer and a boutonniere Benjamin had pinned with care.
The ceremony was light and holy. Mr. Barlow spoke gently: "I spent years wondering if this kind of joy could be mine. Turns out, love waits patiently. And when you're ready, it dances toward you."
His partner added, "You don't have to be loud to be worthy. You just have to be honest."
The trio wept - openly, unashamed, clutching tissues and each other.
Afterward, there was dancing. Christopher spun Benjamin under strings of light. Donny pulled Mr. Barlow into a brief hug.
"You make me want to grow older," Donny whispered. "Like there's something to look forward to."
Mr. Barlow smiled. "There is. There always is."
Later, beneath glowing lanterns, the trio sat quietly on a bench.
"I want this," Benjamin said. "Someday. For all of us."
Donny kissed his knuckles. Christopher nodded, eyes misted.
They weren't married yet. They weren't sure what "forever" looked like. But they knew what it felt like tonight.
And that was enough.