I see your “Elias Bouchard, husband of Peter Lukas, is homophobic and hoards gay rights” and I raise you:
he’s a real asshole in a way that comes across as homophobic but is really just him being petty and judgmental.
In a nebulous universe that does not exist in canon, Jon and Martin are leaving work to go on a date. They run into Elias on their way out the door.
In this scenario, they have changed into Date Clothes at work because I am too tired to concoct something more realistic.
“Oh dear,” Elias says in a Tone. He looks both of them up and down. His face says that he has just smelled something particularly unpleasant. His eyes linger on their hands, which are clasped together between them.
Jon bristles like a startled porcupine. Martin shifts from foot to foot nervously. They had not expected this. Their ‘Welcome To The Magnus Institute, A Reputable Academic Institution That Does Not Exist To Feed A Preternatural Fear Entity!’ brochures that they had received upon being hired had said that the institute’s company culture was very accepting of members of the LGBTQIA+ community.
Elias is still watching them. His posture is impeccable. Jon finds himself standing up straighter. He resents Elias and his dismissal of Jon’s request for ergonomic chairs. Perhaps he had denied it because he realized that Jon and Martin were dating.
“Hmm,” Elias says. He is smiling blandly, as if pained. “That’s certainly a choice.”
“What is,” Jon says, daring him to answer. He may be small but he is not above violence for a good cause; not unlike a badger. Martin finds this endearing.
“This,” Elias says, as if the answer is painfully obvious. He gestures with his hand, flicking it back and forth between Jon and Martin. His face is scrunched up like he had just taken a bite of bad sushi. Martin stares and his hand and notes that his nails had been painted; black with little green eyes on each one, meticulously drawn on by hand.
Jon steps in front of Martin protectively. He might be growling a little bit; he needs to watch how much time he is spending with Daisy. “I beg your pardon?” Jon says challengingly.
“Well,” Elias simpers, examining his cuticles. “You could both clearly do better.”
“Sorry, what?” Martin squawks indignantly.
He is perplexed. Jon is fuming. Elias seems none the wiser.
Martin cannot believe the gall of some people, to be so blatantly bigoted and hateful out in the open.
“Yes, that sweater with those shoes, Martin, they clash horribly, I’m afraid,” Elias continues. His mouth twitched downward, disproving. “And Jon. I understand you’ve been under a lot of stress lately, but they do make clothes in your size. You don’t have to wear everything four sizes too large.”
“You don’t like our clothes?” Martin asks. He is very confused, which, while not uncommon, is unpleasant.
“That’s a bit of an understatement,” Elias says. He looks down his nose at them. His earring gleams in the fluorescent light that had been strategically placed to give Dave from accounting frequent migraines. Elias prefers to do the budgeting himself.
“Oh,” Martin says. He holds Jon’s hand tighter. “I thought you were homophobic.”
Elias rolls his eyes. “Perish the thought.”
At this moment, Peter Lukas materializes out of a cloud of Loneliness Fog(tm) and kisses Elias on the cheek. He is wearing the same thing he has worn every other time Martin and Jon have seen him: a nondescript Captain’s uniform and a sailor’s hat. (They do not know that he has changed his socks, as they cannot see them; Elias can. These have anchor patterns in blue and white with the words “it’s the sea for me” in cursive along the fronts of the toes. Elias thinks they’re charming.)
“Ready to go, dear?” Peter asks.
Elias smiles. “Of course.”
“It’s our anniversary tonight!” Peter says cheerfully.
“Oh,” Martin says. “Um. Congratulations? How long have you been… married?”
“Divorced,” Elias corrects, staring into Peter’s eyes with a loving smile. “Three months now, is it?”
“Yep! And counting!” Peter says. “I don’t have to see him for seven weeks after this!”
“Yes, and we better be going lest we miss our reservation,” Elias says. “Jon, Martin, do take what I said to heart.” He looks over at Peter like he had found a very sad looking box of kittens that he’d like him to look at with pity with him. “They’re going on a date.”
Peter wrinkles his nose. “Wearing that?”
“Alright,” Jon says angrily, “We’ll be going now. Martin?”
He tugs Martin towards the door. Martin is quite unmovable until he realizes he his meant to be following.
“Right! Um. Happy… divorce? See you later,” he says. He and Jon escape while they can in hopes of greener pastures.
Peter and Elias watch them leave.
“What an odd pair,” Peter says.
“You’re telling me,” Elias sighs. “Dinner?”
“Thought you’d never ask.” Peter leads him out the door.
