When Brendon first even considered the possibility of marriage, there was a problem that stuck out- Ryan tended to be the hopeless romantic, the more sentimental out of them both, and crucially, the one that people would expect to propose- Brendon included. Even if Ryan never talked about, the two of them had learned to read eachother like a book, and Brendon knew that Ryan was obsessed with that ideal picture of serenity and domestic bliss, something they already [i]had[/i] (and then some- if you counted less traditional things like a constant joint pastime being smoking a fuckton of weed and Brendon playing drums at 2am until Ryan coaxed- otherwise dragged- him back to bed). Even so, marriage would legally seal the deal, and the more Brendon thought about it, the romantic aspect of it, the prospect of calling Ryan his husband, the more he wanted to be the one who got down on one knee (literally or metaphorically). He was still bugged by the fact that he knew Ryan wanted to do it at somepoint, and if he proposed he’d never get proposed [i]to[/i], But once Brendon wanted something, he was incredibly impatient.

He put a great deal of thought and sentiment into the proposal, but didn’t spend a hugely long time planning it out. It was easy- go to the cabin to invoke those memories back strongly into them, butter Ryan up with constant affection and gentleness he usually didn’t see from Brendon, then propose by the lakeshore, mirror the moment four years plus ago that they’d nervously but surely confessed and kissed eachother with a mutual passion and adoration that took their breaths away. It went perfectly to plan, even with unprecedented nerves setting in, and though Brendon felt his throat tightening a little from the anxiety and anticipation, he was proud of himself for getting this far and not backing down. Not that he thought he’d get cold feet- he wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t scared of forever, in fact he wanted it to come sooner- but he had an unfortunate history of thinking irrationally and he hoped that wouldn’t kick in out of the blue and ruin his perfectly planned moment.

Luckily, Ryan caught on surprisingly fast, so he was comforted by the fact that there was no way he was backing out without thinking. He had to continue, reach the end of a speech that couldn’t begin to put into words how much he adored him, and then Ryan would say yes, and they’d be engaged. Ryan’s grip was solid, and as he spoke he glanced down too at their joined hands, a familiar, comforting sight. Ryan’s hands- he’d always loved them, he had long fingers, and a strong grip, calloused, guitarist’s hands. Much bigger than his, he noted distantly. Brendon was still talking, but he dragged his eyes away to instead meet Ryan’s intent gaze. Ryan’s eyes. In his head, he never shut up about them- they were a rich honey-brown, gold in certain light, and Brendon fell in love with him all over again every time he got lost in them for a little too long. His eyes then dropped to his mouth, and he bit his lip as he took a pause and a breath, because he was aching to cut to the chase and just kiss him. He was so hopelessly in love with everything about him, he wanted it, wanted it forever, all his perfections and flaws, everything that made him Ryan. 

They knew everything about eachother. Brendon knew of every particular curl that sprang up when Ryan’s hair started to grow long, the map of veins under the skin of his hands, the slope of his collarbone, his throat, his jaw. He knew how his voice became low and rough when he was the happiest, and that he chewed up the words he truly meant but it was okay because Brendon understood anyway. Brendon knew how he tasted, sounded, looked, felt- it was dramatic, maybe, but Brendon was hopelessly in love and it was moments like this where it really hit him. They’d be together- forever. The word was overkill, now, but neither of them cared. Nothing else mattered. They complimented eachother, so different but so in tune- the sun, the moon, the analogy they’d played out for so long but fit them so well it had stuck for years and it was an open secret that everyone knew about but felt so bizarrely intimate that they both found themselves flushing and grinning uncontrollably when they talked about it. They were disgustingly sweet and joined at the soul and they were going to get [i]married.[/i]

[i]I love you, too.[/i] A simple, familiar phrase, but Brendon heard all of the meaning behind it. He was smiling, helplessly, and quickly reached into his pocket to present his future husband the ring he’d chosen. There was a beat of silence, stillness, and then Ryan leaned in, grinning, resting their foreheads together. Brendon finally exhaled. [i]And I want you to marry[/i] me. [b]”Thank fuck,”[/b] He laughed, glancing down at Ryan’s presented hand before he was quickly distracted when Ryan drew him in for a kiss. Everything felt muted for a while, and Brendon’s eyelashes fluttered. He stayed where he was, close and twined, but took the ring carefully out of the box and took careful hold of Ryan’s hand, ready to slide it on. [i]Can’t believe you’re so sneaky. I had no idea. God, I love you so much.[/i] Brendon was grinning, unable to find words, and just slid the ring delicately onto Ryan’s ring finger, before bringing his hand up to his mouth and kissing it gently. [i]We’re[/i] fiancés.

God, they were. Brendon nodded, enthusiastic, unable to draw his eyes away from Ryan’s hands. They looked better now. [i]How long did you- I mean, when did you even start planning...?[/i] [b]”Not long before we even left to go here,”[/b]Brendon admitted. [b]”But I’ve thought about it for months.” [/b]He then looked up at Ryan, and decided they weren’t close enough- fuelled by a surge of ecstasy, he moved forwards, onto Ryan’s lap, wrapping his arms around his fiancé’s neck and pressing his mouth against his lips, then his skin. [b]”Nothing matters but you. Nothing.”[/b]