Dead Plate Oneshots Holidays

The drive to Rody’s parents’ house felt shorter than it ever did. Even as Rody kept his hand clasped around Vincent’s fingers, his grip firm, Vincent could feel the tension starting to take over.

“Hey,” Rody said softly, glancing over with a reassuring smile. “We’ll just eat, get through the pleasantries, and leave, yeah? Just like last time. And remember, if anyone steps out of line, I’ve got your back.”

Vincent smiled faintly, his eyes darting away. It wasn’t as though he didn’t appreciate Rody’s support. He could handle a few offhanded comments and judgmental stares—it wasn’t as if he hadn’t faced worse, and besides, he loved Rody. Being with him was worth every bit of tension and passive-aggression from his family.

“Thank you, chér,” Vincent murmured, squeezing Rody’s hand gently. “I just… wish things were different.”

Rody’s jaw tensed as he pulled the car into the driveway. He’d seen Vincent working his hardest to make an impression, trying to be friendly, bringing his best dishes and the most thoughtful gifts. But each time, it ended the same way, and tonight promised to be no different.

Rody’s mother, Anne, was already waiting on the doorstep, smiling brightly—too brightly, as if forcing herself to ignore the disappointment she must’ve felt seeing Vincent beside her son once again. She greeted them both with hugs, though the one she gave Vincent felt stiff and brief.

“Oh, Rody!” Anne gushed, as they walked inside. “You’re looking so well! And, ah, Vincent, of course. Lovely to see you.”

Vincent nodded politely, swallowing any resentment he felt and offering his shy, slightly awkward smile. “Thank you, Anne. I, um, I brought some pastries from the bakery—lemon tarts and macarons. I remember you mentioned you enjoyed them.”

“Oh, how thoughtful,” she replied, taking the box but giving it only a passing glance. “Though you know, Rody’s favorite was always Manon’s apple crumble. She made it with this sweet cinnamon topping—it was just perfect.”

Rody rolled his eyes, pulling Vincent closer beside him. “Mom, Vincent’s gone out of his way to bring you something special. Could we please not start?”

Anne gave a quick, dismissive wave of her hand. “Oh, honey, I’m just saying! I know how much you loved that dish. Besides, I thought it’d be nice to see her again—she should be here soon.”

Vincent’s heart dropped, but he forced himself to nod. He had no right to complain or make a scene, he told himself. He knew the family history. Manon had been Rody’s first love, the girl-next-door who fit effortlessly into every holiday gathering, family photo, and memory. How could he compete?

Vincent tried to busy himself by heading to the kitchen to help set up, but even there, Rody’s father, Gerard, was waiting, sitting at the dining table with an inscrutable expression on his face. “So, Vincent,” he started, his tone edged with something steely, “you’re still working at that little bistro, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Vincent replied softly. “The restaurant is doing well, and—”

“Ah,” Gerard interrupted with a smirk, “so you’re still a chef. That’s… quaint. But then again, it’s hard work, cooking for others all the time. I imagine you don’t get to see much of my son’s successes, with how busy you must be.”

Rody stepped in then, his eyes narrowed. “Dad, don’t. Vincent’s an incredible chef, and he makes time for us. If anything, he goes out of his way to make sure we have everything we need.”

“I’m only pointing out the facts, Rody,” Gerard replied. “Manon’s been excelling in her field—just got promoted again, if you didn’t hear. You know, she really had her life together; she could always keep up with your career.”

Vincent flinched at the words, his hands tightening around the dish he was setting down on the table. He kept his gaze low, hoping no one could see the hurt there. Why did they have to compare him to her, every single time? What could he do to prove himself, if nothing was ever enough?

Anne bustled in with a smile, her voice cheerful. “Oh, Rody, don’t be so tense! We’re just talking. Besides, it’s not our fault Manon has always felt like family.” She turned to Vincent, her eyes appraising. “We just… want to make sure our son is with someone who truly fits.”

Vincent swallowed, a sharp ache settling in his chest. This wasn’t the first time they’d made him feel like he wasn’t welcome, but each time hurt a little more.

Rody clenched his fists, struggling to keep his anger in check. “You know, maybe if you actually tried to get to know Vincent, you’d realize he’s the best person I’ve ever been with. He’s kind, and he cares, and he does more than you could ever know to make me happy. Isn’t that enough?”

A tense silence settled over the room until the doorbell rang. Anne’s face lit up, and she hurried over. When she returned, Manon was right behind her, offering that effortless, warm smile that had always charmed everyone in Rody’s family.

“Manon! So good to see you, sweetheart,” Gerard greeted her, his tone suddenly warm. He pulled her into a hug, clearly favoring her in a way he never did with Vincent.

“Hi, Rody,” Manon greeted him with a smile, her eyes flicking between him and Vincent. “And… Vincent. It’s been a while.”

“Oui, it has,” Vincent replied, struggling to keep his voice steady. He managed a small, polite smile, though it felt fragile. He saw the way Anne and Gerard fawned over her, their smiles genuine, their attention unfiltered.

Rody placed a reassuring hand on Vincent’s shoulder, leaning close. “Just ignore them,” he whispered. “They’ll never get it, and that’s on them.”

Dinner was a slow, painful affair. Every compliment Gerard or Anne gave Manon was a subtle, painful reminder of what they thought Vincent lacked. They praised her ambition, her elegance, her “class.” Each time Vincent offered anything to the conversation, he was met with curt nods or dismissive remarks.

“So, Manon,” Anne began with a fond smile, “have you thought about settling down? Rody’s still young, you know, and maybe he’ll come to his senses one day.” She shot Vincent a pointed look, as if he were a temporary fixture in their lives.

Rody nearly dropped his fork, his patience unraveling. “Mom, that’s enough,” he said, his tone sharp.

Anne scoffed, raising her eyebrows. “I’m just looking out for my son, that’s all. He deserves someone who’s a good fit for the family.”

Rody shot up from his seat, his face flushed with anger. “Do you even hear yourselves? Vincent has done nothing but try to make you happy every time he’s here. He brings you gifts, food, he helps around the house—and for what? So you can make him feel like he’s not good enough?”

The table fell silent, everyone staring. Vincent’s hand found Rody’s, a silent plea to calm down, but Rody wouldn’t be swayed.

“You know what?” Rody continued, his voice resolute. “We’re done. I’m done watching you disrespect him. If you can’t accept Vincent, then we won’t be coming back.”

Anne’s face twisted, hurt and indignation flashing in her eyes. “Rody, don’t be ridiculous! We’re just trying to help you—”

“No,” Rody cut her off, his tone deadly serious. “You’re trying to fit me into a life I don’t want. I don’t want to be with Manon. I love Vincent. He’s my partner, and he makes me happy. That should be enough for you, but clearly it isn’t.”

He turned to Vincent, his gaze softening. “Come on, let’s go.”

Vincent hesitated, glancing back at the table, at the family that was supposed to welcome him, to make him feel safe. But when he looked at Rody, at the fierce, unwavering loyalty in his eyes, he knew he didn’t need any of this. They had each other.

As they walked out, Vincent could feel the weight lifting from his chest. Rody slipped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close as they made their way to the car.

“You okay?” Rody asked, his voice gentle now.

Vincent nodded, feeling the tension drain from him. “I am… I am now.” He took a deep breath, leaning his head against Rody’s shoulder, feeling more at peace than he ever had in that house.

As they drove away, leaving behind the unending comparisons and cold stares, Vincent felt a smile bloom on his face. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t accepted there. What mattered was that Rody was by his side, and that he was loved.