Ryan had made a grave mistake.

In truth, it wasn't really a mistake, because this idea had lingered in the back of his mind for some time now. Actually, like three days after he and Brendon had met. Just, he had a few different plans for how it would go, and a lot of them were classier and more well thought out and more considerate of what the rest of their time together would be like as a result of how it went, so on. Also, it wouldn't happen in the middle of, uh, fornication. Granted, they were pretty good at that, but still. Things like this had to be a whole occasion, as far as Ryan was aware.

Basically, he'd proposed.

If you could call it that, anyway. The words 'will you marry me' just sort of came out in the heat of the moment, y'know, and at the time he didn't even fully register the scale of that fuckup, and maybe Brendon wasn't responding to that question specifically but Ryan definitely heard a 'yes,' and it wasn't until afterward, recovering, that he realised the depth of the situation. That afterglow quickly became the very opposite of the familiar warmfuzzy feeling. On one hand, there was still the chance that Brendon had accepted, and that meant he really did like him enough for that; on the other, even if he had accepted, it could be that he, too, was just fired up at the moment, and hadn't meant it at all, and then they'd have to have the most uncomfortable conversation of all time. Ugh. He had no idea why Brendon stuck around with his complicated ass.

But he couldn't leave it for too long or else they'd have a much longer awkward period. Brendon's head was against his chest, arm thrown across his waist, and Ryan's hand was rested against his back, the other folded behind his head against the pillow. He'd been staring up at the ceiling for maybe five minutes, just letting his breathing even out, pretty sure Brendon was dozing off but not totally sure because he could not look at him, beyond embarrassed. Seriously, if he left this, it'd just get worse. Or maybe he could wait until Brendon said something... which he wouldn't. Brendon only ever made a fuss about petty shit and this was so real. So. There was another option, to just never, ever talk about it, but then maybe in, like, a few years, when he tried to propose again, Brendon might bring it up. And then he'd be embarrassed all the fuck over again. (And maybe Brendon even fucking forgot. But he wasn't going to risk it.)

"Hey, Bren," Ryan said tentatively into the quiet, his hand sliding from Brendon's back to curl through his hair, trying to get his attention. "So." Pause. Holy shit. He didn't plan this conversation either. Ryan sucked in an audible breath, searching the ceiling like there were lines written there for him. "So, uh, what I said -" Another pause, and Ryan seriously thought he was going to die. He'd rather do that than talk about this, anyway. "Some... things were said. Did you... Did you mean. That?" Ryan cradled his head a little, shifting up until he wasn't lying totally horizontal, just his head propped up somewhat, and he could look at Brendon uncomfortably. "'Yes'?" Actually, it was less of a yes and more like a yeah, totally, or something along those excitable lines, but still.

So Ryan had proposed.

Brendon, honestly, was trying not to give it too much thought for fear of beginning to regret saying yes already. It was- a peculiar proposal, to say the least, the last situation wherein he’d ever expected to get engaged. The words had tumbled from Ryan’s lips after a punctuating, drawn-out breath- ‘will you marry me’- and he had looked into Brendon’s eyes, dazed but obviously completely enamoured and impassioned. His voice had been low and husky, it was all so quick and almost jarring, and Brendon, in a similar state to his lover, no coherent thoughts occupying his mind besides ryanryanryan, had almost immediately accepted. There were a few heartbeats that passed, time that he took to process Ryan’s words, and then Brendon had exhaled out an excited ‘hell yeah’. That was- technically- saying ‘yes’. They were- technically- now engaged. Brendon was lying with his head pressed comfortably against the warm skin of his fiancé’s chest. Fiancé. At first, when they’d just collapsed boneless into the sheets, they basked in an air of affection that would be expected after a copulation-marriage proposal combination; but even as Brendon started to drift off, he started to doubt it all just a little.

The first thing was, it clearly wasn’t planned. There was no ring, and, more obviously, it had taken place in the heat of a very intimate moment, where emotions were heightened almost irrationally. Not like Ryan would ever set out to propose specifically during that. Knowing him, he’d make it an entire event, romantic and sweet, some grand gesture even though he wasn’t even that fond of such things, but he knew Brendon was, so he’d do it for him, and- well. To be honest, Brendon wasn’t sure why he had even been thinking about that as much as he had, in reflection. They’d been dating for about a half a year, maybe a little more, and though they were quite clearly and openly in love, most people would agree that six months was not a very long time and not long enough at all, not even close, to consider ‘tying the knot’, so to speak. But. They’d always been unconventional. Their relationship had started out as a potential hookup gone wrong (or gone right, depending on how badly either of them really wanted it that evening), turned suddenly into a job opportunity, and out of nowhere, Brendon had then started falling for his boss, the frontman of one of the most popular bands in the world. And then they were dating. And now- engaged.

Brendon was relaxed against the mattress and was listening to Ryan’s steadily slowing heartbeat, thoughts racing despite the apparent surface level peacefulness, and he cursed the situation for a second because usually afterwards they just cuddled and fell asleep, sweet and gentle. Now all he could do was stare off slightly distantly at the wall, his cheek pressed against Ryan’s chest, too distracted to properly come down. It wasn’t all bad, though. He was certainly comfortable and it wasn’t like he was totally freaking out and wanting to backpedal immediately- it was just so out of the blue. And they were both yet to mention it. And Brendon sheepishly recalled that he may have been so enthusiastic about something Ryan did, not something than said, like, ‘will you marry me’. Okay. He was slowly starting to panic. That said, when he heard Ryan’s voice and felt his hand sliding across his skin to curl into his hair, he remembered that he was completely enamoured with the man and- he wouldn’t mind marrying him. Not at all. Hey, Bren. With almost obedient punctuality, Brendon lifted his head and shifted up a little, angling his head to nip playfully at the edge of Ryan’s jaw, soothing it with a quick kiss. He propped himself up on one elbow and moved the other to curl into Ryan’s hair after he ran through his own with his fingers, trying to tame it somewhat. ”Hey, baby.” His voice was somewhat raspy. So. Oh. Knowing what was coming, Brendon quirked an eyebrow and swallowed. This could be interesting.

”So.” Patient, he studied Ryan’s face closely, having memorised every detail anyhow, but, still. He was art. ”Before y’say anything. You’re fucking astounding.” His laugh came out almost as a hiss. ”That was, uh, incredible.” Brendon sucked on his teeth and let his eyes drop down to Ryan’s mouth but he didn’t make any moves, just waited dutifully. So, uh, what I said. An innocuous twitch of the eyebrows followed. Some... Things were said. As if oblivious, Brendon’s eyes were open endearingly wide, innocent, like he had no idea what Ryan was so hesitant about. Did you... Did you mean. That?

A laugh from Brendon and he shrugged a shoulder, dipping his head to trace a few featherlight kisses on Ryan’s collarbone then moving up and making space for himself in the crook of his shoulder, hiding his face there mostly so Ryan would hurt him instantly. [b]”Y’gotta be more specific, babe. Things were said, but are you referring to [i]fuck me harder[i]- he replicated that with jarring accuracy- or will you marry me?

Yes?

Brendon swallowed. So, they were really actually gonna have this conversation now. Turns out a great way to ruin what was supposed to be post-coital bliss and then a long, long sleep was for one idiot to propose and the other to say yes. Why couldn’t he have waited? ”Well. Did you mean it when you asked me?”

Ryan wasn't worried about the prospect of actually being engaged to Brendon (and then eventually marrying him, holy shit); it was just. What if his answer wasn't really yes? Ryan would have to wait longer if Brendon even ever wanted to get married and, god, they had never even had a conversation about marriage, maybe they weren't ready, maybe his stupid impulsive behavior with Brendon - totally Brendon's fault, by the way, because he was way too easy to be completely, wholly infatuated with, or something more meaningful beyond that - was finally going to come back to bite him in the ass, whatever. But. There was also the chance that he did mean it. He did mean it, and they'd be engaged, and that was the fucking dream, really, but Ryan would probably propose again at some point. Did two proposals cancel it out? Whatever. Third time's the charm, then he could have an actually good engagement story rather than 'I popped the question about five seconds before climax, thanks for asking.' Though in all fairness that was about as romantic as their story of meeting, in a shitty LA bar.

Anyway. He had to address it, at some point, so he started testing the waters, and Brendon seemed a thousand times more chill than he felt. Ryan was almost calmed by the little kiss at his jaw, almost charmed into nonchalance by the easy way he drew his fingers through his hair. Almost. Hey, baby. God. It took everything not to abandon the following conversation and divert into a weird confession of love triggered only by the sound of his voice just then. He continued. So. Ryan felt self-conscious, stared right back at Brendon for a second before he started to turn his head slightly, swallowing and looking at the wall past Brendon's shoulder. Before y’say anything. Oh. He looked back, hopeful. You’re fucking astounding. Really not the time. Ryan still lost his breath, close to laughing with Brendon but only managing a smile. "You're telling me." That was, uh, incredible. Seriously, Brendon could make a career out of how talented he was at saving a situation, changing the subject to something wildly different. But Ryan ignored where his gaze had landed, shut his eyes and moved on.

When he opened them, Brendon had the nerve to look like he didn't know what Ryan was talking about, and Ryan could have killed him, really, watching him laugh and shrug innocently, but fuck, he loved him so much. Seriously, please let it have been a real yes. Ryan shut his eyes again as Brendon planted a garden of the gentlest kisses along his collarbone, calming down a little. Y’gotta be more specific, babe. Things were said, but are you referring to 'fuck me harder' - and about there was when Ryan cringed beyond the point of no return, his hand falling from the back of Brendon's head to the mattress, defeated - or 'will you marry me?' Okay. Alright. So he did hear. First of all, fuck Brendon for bringing that first part up, really, right now, when his nerves could have given him, like, a heart attack, probably; second, how was he so comfortable saying the latter out loud? Ryan couldn't even repeat the question. Well. Probably when he was in the right setting, a planned situation, but not immediately after fucking it up immensely. He wanted to marry Brendon, yeah, whatever, but he also totally hated him right now.

Well. Did you mean it when you asked me? Ryan opened his eyes, looked at him carefully. He wondered what Brendon thought. Would anyone ever not mean it if they proposed to Brendon? Seriously, Ryan was just glad he got there first. He bit his lip, carried them upwards along the pillow a bit until he could sit up more, was holding Brendon against him with a hand curled round his shoulder. He smoothed his thumb over the bone there, searching his face, because he was so scared that he'd messed up beyond repair. "I meant it," he confirmed, voice more certain than even he'd anticipated. "I didn't exactly... I mean, in all of my dumb imaginary scenarios, this was not one of them, but I meant it." Please say you did too, holy shit, six months is nothing but we've got a lifetime ahead. Ryan's gaze dropped to his lips momentarily, a split between avoiding eye contact and maybe admiring, and then he offered up a sidenote. "I'll get a ring, even." He grinned, deathly nervous, but maybe that could finish up the deal.

Yeah, so maybe they’d only been officially dating for six months, they’d been practically boyfriends for a long time, way too close for two people who were apparently ‘just friends’, and in a situation where one of their paychecks depended on the other. It was, in many ways, not an ideal situation- things had started out in a semi-awful downtown LA bar, one that seemed to be going for some kind of vintage vibe but only achieved a ‘hasn’t been dusted in a year’ look, and from that meeting Brendon had so far earned a new job, a salary multiple times higher than the one he had been earning prior to accepting the offer, and if he fast forwarded through more significant lifestyle changes, he had now ended up with a fiancé. They were- unconventional, to say the least, and Brendon supposed he was just trying to reason with himself that getting engaged after six months really wasn’t that far out considering some of the other shit he’d done since meeting Ryan Rowe. What was so bad about it, really- they were in love, lived together, we’re both definitely in it for the long run- even if this was some kind of honeymoon phase, he wasn’t too worried about leaving that phase because things were so overwhelmingly good with Ryan he couldn’t ever imagine them being bad or even just mediocre. In his arms Brendon felt safe, comfortable, at home. He’d never been so sure of something or someone in his up to now chaotic life.

So, yeah. Brendon wanted to marry him. He imagined others would have something to say about their quick engagement- fans of Ryan, people who definitely weren’t fans of Ryan, Ryan’s questionable number of exes, Ryan’s friends, Brendon’s friends. Maybe even Ryan’s management. Brendon and Ryan’s relationship was public, yeah, but many saw it as some damaged rockstar going through a phase. He’d had so many girlfriends, what else could it be? A marriage might shake up his image. Brendon knew Ryan wouldn’t give a fuck, but, still. It had the possibility of turning their lives and careers upside down, at least for a little while until the ‘adoring public’ settled down with the idea that Ryan had settled down and wouldn’t be marrying them instead. Brendon blinked and then closed his eyes, reminding himself that he wasn’t even sure if Ryan had been serious when he asked, he shouldn’t get so far ahead of himself. After all, the two of them were often nonsensical and incoherent during the heat of the moment, this could just be another one of those incidents. He knew he had to make sure but he also knew Ryan would be thinking the same thing, wanting to clarify things, so he stayed silent. Ryan was more likely to confront it first anyway.

As if on cue, Ryan spoke, and Brendon felt a surge of affection, immediately moving up and pressing himself comfortably against Ryan so he could easily reach his jaw where he then planted a kiss. They locked eyes for just a second before Ryan looked away and Brendon smiled. You’re beautiful, you’re incredible. You’re the most astounding thing I’ve ever seen. You’re telling me. Laughing, he silenced himself only by attaching his mouth softly to different points along Ryan’s collarbone, simply tracing over the lovebites he’d already left there, dark against Ryan’s pale skin. He couldn’t help his subsequent affected, audible inhale, and had to close his eyes for a few seconds to compose himself before they fluttered open, wide and innocent and amused by Ryan’s painfully obvious nerves. He was so fucking cute. Brendon hoped to god that had been a legitimate proposal. However, he had no mercy, and intended to make his boyfriend/fiancé squirm- and squirm he did; Brendon repeated more explicit things that were said and Ryan reacted with blatant mortification. My poor baby, Brendon thought, and decided to cut him some slack, it was the least he could do after Ryan had dicked him down wonderfully and proposed at the same time. He couldn’t ask for a better man.

Still, he had to make sure Ryan meant it, and it was his turn to be slightly apprehensive. He let Ryan manoeuvre them both to a more comfortable position (haha, funny, Ryan was an expert at that by now, yeah, yeah) and met Ryan’s earnest, searching gaze carefully. I meant it. His heart soared and it was embarassing but Brendon grinned like an idiot, dropping his chin to his chest and looking down, as if incredibly distracted by the rise and fall of Ryan’s chest. ”You just officially made that the best sex I’ve ever had,” He declared, surging in for a brief kiss before pulling back and letting Ryan speak. I didn't exactly... I mean, in all of my dumb imaginary scenarios, this was not one of them, but I meant it. A shrug from Brendon. ”Hey, it worked for me,” He reasoned, dancing the tips of his fingers lightly across Ryan’s skin, ”And at least it wasn’t cliché, right?” Another damn smile. He couldn’t stop smiling. This was so ridiculous, but then, he supposed, so were they. So was love. It was all so goddamn wonderful and maybe the afterglow kind of contributed but Brendon was positive he’d never been so happy in his life.

I’ll get a ring, even. Brendon raised his eyebrows and snaked a hand to close his fingers around one of Ryan’s wrists, holding it up in the space between them, indicating Ryan’s numerous rings that they apparently didn’t wish to waste time taking off. ”You’ve got enough, I think,” He grinned and stuck his tongue out slightly between his teeth, eyes squinting up at the corners as he kissed the back of Ryan’s hand and then let go of his wrist. They were relaxed and earnest and though Brendon adored it, he still delighted in changing the mood by pressing his hips down without warning, studying Ryan’s face for reaction. ”So, I’ll think about it,” He teased, leaning forward to catch Ryan’s bottom lip in his teeth, hands curling through his hair. ”If you propose to me again, in a different position.” He was joking. Kind of. They were... A little too much sometimes.

It wasn't a total shock, or anything, because Ryan had at least a cent of faith in their relationship, to say the least, but the fact that Brendon's reaction was a stunning, showstopping, shy smile and not a complete 180 in mood almost decimated Ryan. It was a fucking relief, but at the same time, exactly what he'd expected in the back of his mind. Expected or not, Ryan was the luckiest motherfucker alive. You just officially made that the best sex I’ve ever had. Ryan laughed, cutting himself off only to kiss Brendon as deeply as he could in the briefest of moments, wishing he wasn't so rushed on trying to get words out so he could draw that time out. Hey, it worked for me. Ryan smiled weakly, because, sure, he thought that now, but he was getting another proposal whether he liked it or not and it would be goddamn perfect. Not this mess, for sure. They touched all the time, attached at the hip, and yet the dance of Brendon's fingertips over his skin was electrifying. And at least it wasn’t cliché, right? Ryan sighed at himself, his ridiculousness, and bumped his head back against the headboard in defeat. "I suppose," he said dramatically, before raising his head again and smiling at Brendon.

Ryan followed Brendon's grip to his hand, realizing only then that all of his fingers still adorned a stupid amount of rings. He rolled his eyes, already guessing the answer he was going to get. You’ve got enough, I think. He smirked, ignored that, continued on his own train of thought as if there'd been no teasing to think of. "Engraved. They'll match." His smile was small, private, watching Brendon's face and then the kiss he planted on the back of his hand. Again. So fucking lucky. Hand free, he switched it around, took Brendon's in his own and replaced a ring from his to place on Brendon's delicately. "Here's a placeholder, for now." He turned his hand over once, and though it wasn't much, just a plain band, he liked the idea already. Brendon in a ring he'd given to him. Asked in public, answering 'I'm engaged,' so on. Fuck, when Ryan got one, he'd abandon all the others; he was ready to ramble about Brendon more than he already did. And he'd get invitations to do so. Even better.

He was stuck in his thoughts when Brendon ground down against him, and he dropped his hand with surprising speed, pursing his lips to suppress any real reaction. He cleared his throat as Brendon spoke, unsettled. So, I’ll think about it. Jerk. Ryan lost his breath when Brendon caught his lip between his teeth, tilted his head obediently with the guidance from his hand. 'kay, maybe he was a little versatile. If you propose to me again, in a different position. Ryan nodded his head to the side, practically dizzy, until he could kiss him proper, nose brushing his cheek. "Hm, maybe later," he teased back, barely a centimeter from his lips. "I've got a headache." The furthest thing from true, because Ryan felt pretty much weightless (despite the weight of Brendon, all over him, comfortable), but he thought he was funny sometimes. Enamoured, he rested both hands behind Brendon's ears, cradling his head and tilting back just to study him for a moment. This was it. This was the man he was going to marry. His wonderful weirdo. He exhaled on a smile, wishing he could communicate through just a look exactly how sickeningly in love with him he was, because he certainly couldn't do it with words - and that was his craft, his gift.

Ryan lowered his hands, let them settle around Brendon again, just holding him secure. Honestly, he felt like fucking thanking him, like he was some lost soul that'd been saved. Maybe that was a little true, even. He didn't want to wait to propose again, didn't want to wait to get married, he wanted to do it here and now, but the last time he'd jumped the gun like that - maybe twenty, thirty minutes ago, give or take - he'd sorta messed up the moment he dreamed of almost nightly. So he ignored the impulse to elope. "I'm gonna do it again, you know. Second take. You won't have a clue. Totally gonna blow this proposal out of the water so you don't get to tell anyone about it." He regarded Brendon very seriously. Hard to do, given the circumstances. "Which you're not allowed to do, by the way. This is seriously not the grand gesture I had in mind. I'm gonna blow your mind, baby." Maybe he was hyping this up a little too much. Maybe not - he'd go to the ends of the Earth for this idiot.

About telling anyone. Ryan was sort of worried about that. Spencer had taken something of a liking to him, because with time, he realized Brendon was actually in this for real, not just a sideshow - but that didn't mean they were best friends. Six months wasn't enough for Ryan's life to not be in danger if Spencer learned he'd proposed on the spot. His management, they'd be pissed about his image changing, not that he was much of a 'player' but he looked at least unattainable, in a way, and marriage made him definitey unattainable in a practical sense but it wasn't sellable. Plus that whole 'unprofessional' part, but Ryan had kind of worked them off of that edge over time. And the fans... he saw the critical response enough, the whole articles about Brendon, nitpicking and wondering if he was in it for the money, for the fifteen minutes (six months, come on) of fame, for anything but actual love and dedication. Brendon rarely said a single thing about it, but Ryan was sure if he was in his position he'd be bothered by the treatment, by the public eye that he didn't sign up for. Sure, there was a sliver of positivity, like when his work was recognized or he got caught in an interview beside Ryan at awards shows and it captured his personality or people just thought he was as gorgeous as Ryan did. Whatever the case, it was a delicate balance between obscene, unfounded amounts of disapproval and celebrity-level adoration and acceptance.

It wasn't all that fair. Five minutes in to confirming their engagement, Ryan wanted to announce it to the world, and he was worried about the impact it'd have on his fiancé.

As Brendon teased his now-fiancé about the unusual nature of his impromptu proposal, he felt his heart swell with affection, fully enamoured by Ryan’s weak, sheepish smile. He was positive he’d never been more in love with him as he was at that moment- and that just went to say that he didn’t need Whatever grand gesture Ryan had intended to make this. Hell, Brendon had no idea he was even planning to- they hadn’t even mentioned it, their official relationship had been that short. The suddenness with which Ryan asked Brendon to marry him told Brendon that it had been genuine and honest and soul-bearing in a moment of heat and intense vulnerability and Brendon honestly couldn’t think of any other way to top it. He felt lightheated, a deep indescribable feeling settling in his bones, and he trailed his fingertips across the familiar expanses of skin beneath him, exhaling softly. Then Ryan let his head fall back against the headboard and Brendon couldn’t help but break into spontaneous laughter, because yeah, it was more than enough for him, but it also so damn funny. Clearly he had been doing something right to prompt such a serious reaction. God, they were ridiculous. Brendon loved it. I suppose.

”M-hm,” Brendon muttered absently, closing his hand around Ryan’s wrist and lifting it to examine his jewellery-laden hands. A few of them, Brendon saw, he’d had for a very long time- he recalled seeing them back when they first met (yes, he was that enthralled by his hands, of all things), and he smiled a little, betraying his feelings of nostalgia. He was too absorbed in examining Ryan’s rings one by one to notice his tiny smirk. Engraved. They’ll match. ”Oh yeah?” Still, Brendon was a little distracted, pressing his lips against the back of Ryan’s hand. It wasn’t like he didn’t care about a ring- having one would seal the deal, he supposed- but Brendon wasn’t overly fussed with technicality or grand gestures at this point. He didn’t need a ring to be comfortable in the knowledge that they would be wed for as long as they lived. However- when Ryan took off one of his rings, a simple, plain band, and slipped it onto Brendon’s ring finger, he had to stop for a second, entranced, biting his lip. Here’s a placeholder, for now. Fuck. Brendon tore his eyes away and met Ryan’s before he quickly leaned in to catch him in a brief kiss. ”I- I like that. I want people to know I’m yours.” And that you are mine. Brendon felt- not possessiveness, but- connection. He wanted people to know he was in love.

Seriousness aside, Brendon could always be trusted to be irritating and he dutifully carried this out by pressing his hips down teasingly, immediately cracking up into laughter at Ryan’s admirable attempt at not visibly reacting. He was cute. Brendon again leaned in to catch his bottom lip between his teeth and then they fit into place naturally, heads tilting opposite ways to settle into a comfortable kiss. Hm, maybe later. He had been joking, but that sounded appealing. He hummed his approval as they moved apart, both just gazing into eachother’s eyes, disgustingly in love. It was embarassing, unrealistic, seemingly impossible, but they’d found eachother- Brendon would almost go far enough to say that they were soulmates. I’ve got a headache. Yeah, he felt Ryan’s pain. ”No headache, but I’m gonna fuckin’ hurt tomorrow,” He mumbled, sighing and letting himself go slack to rest his forehead against Ryan’s shoulder, letting his eyes flutter shut. He was close to drifting off almost immediately, but Ryan rudely interrupted. I’m gonna do it again, you know. Second take. You won’t have a clue.

Brendon lifted his head lazily and raised his eyebrows. ”Well, now you’ve told me, I think I’ll have an idea. Dumbass.” He giggled, dropping his head back down and laughing against Ryan’s warm skin. Warm. Soft. Brendon really just wanted to go to sleep, if Ryan would just let him... Totally gonna blow this proposal out of the water so you don’t get to tell anyone about it. At this, Brendon made an immediate noise of protest, defiantly lifting his head up to stare at Ryan, unimpressed. ”Whaddya mean, not fuckin’ tell anyone? That was- as I said- the best sex we’ve ever had. You proposed, like, right before you-“ Brendon stopped, frowned. ”I need a shower. Anyway, if you think I’m not gonna tell anyone. Sorry, baby. I’m sure Spencer will be thrilled to know. I’ll tell him myself so he has time to calm down before he reaches you.”

Which you’re not allowed to do, by the way. Brendon snorted, then shifted, rolling off to the side and crashing unceremoniously onto the mattress, turning onto his front and burying his head into the pillow. He chose to ignore that. This is seriously not the grand gesture I had in mind. Worked for me, Brendon thought, rolling his eyes. Honestly, Ryan was too much. He loved him, but c’mon, babe. Chill. We’re engaged, isn’t that good enough? I’m gonna blow your mind, baby. Brendon lifted his head from his folded arms so Ryan could hear him speak. “Not to ruin your epic proposal dreams, but. You just did blow my mind. Thought that was pretty evident. You’re really something.” He smiled, sheepish at how easy he was, and buried his face in his arms again, letting his eyes fall shut. A shower could wait.

As unexpected and messy as this proposal was, Ryan would be lying if he said it hadn't been on his mind anyway. He tended to jump the gun when it came to Brendon. They first met, he was immediately infatuated, offered him a job within the next, like, day. And then they were the closest of friends in no time, even entertaining a romantic aspect beneath the surface until Ryan finally made a move. Well. 'Finally' might be a leap, especially when they were technically boss/employee, but. In the time following, he was given new reasons to want Brendon around forever every single day, new reasons to marry him even when they were barely considered 'long term' - Ryan wasn't joking when he called him the 'love of his life,' stupid, sappy things like that, and shockingly, he was never afraid. Ryan had his doubts about everything, didn't just 'go with it' and rarely took chances, but Brendon was something he was so sure about. He matched every joke Ryan made, knew every quirk like it was his own, was generally about as perfect as it got. So. Yeah, he'd known for a while that he'd marry him.

Granted it would probably be more considerate to have clued Brendon in to that idea before popping the question, but. He seemed all right with the situation - more than all right. M-hm. Brendon's eyes were on his hands, intent, and Ryan just watched his face, the little nostalgic smile that betrayed him. God, yeah, he'd elope right now if he could, if he wasn't dying of embarrassment still. Oh yeah? "I'm thinking a date, initials, lyrics..." Brendon wasn't totally listening, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his hand, and Ryan trailed off just as distractedly, lips parting slightly. "...Something like that." He bit his lip, so fucking enamoured, why weren't they married already? He gave Brendon his little placeholder, pleased with this trial ring of sorts, and Brendon's look when he turned back to him - god. He took Ryan's breath away. When they kissed Ryan could barely respond properly, that affected. I- I like that. I want people to know I’m yours. Ryan made a small, fond sound, lifting the hand he'd been studying to hold his chin briefly, delicately. "And I'm yours. In case it wasn't obvious."

Brendon pressed against him, totally evil, and Ryan's hands tightened around his waist, still keeping him close as he was able while they kissed. No headache, but I’m gonna fuckin’ hurt tomorrow. Ryan laughed genuinely, burying his face into Brendon's pillow-messy hair when he rested his forehead against his shoulder, breathing him in. "Sorry about that." He smiled softly, pulling away to give Brendon space when he lifted his head again. Well, now you’ve told me, I think I’ll have an idea. Dumbass. Ryan rolled his eyes, feeling wonderful with Brendon's laughter against his skin. Really, he wouldn't know the when, the where, the how - he had no damn idea. Maybe he didn't want another proposal, didn't need one, but he was gonna get one, 'cause. Well. Look at him. Brendon was the kind of guy that happened once in a lifetime, maybe less. He deserved something insane.

Whaddya mean, not fuckin’ tell anyone? That was- as I said- the best sex we’ve ever had. You proposed, like, right before you- Ryan cleared his throat, looking at him warningly, but a smile played on his lips. I need a shower. Anyway, if you think I’m not gonna tell anyone. Sorry, baby. I’m sure Spencer will be thrilled to know. I’ll tell him myself so he has time to calm down before he reaches you. "Oh my god," Ryan said, freeing a hand to shove over his face and drag aside. "If you tell Spencer, I will kill you, then myself." Ryan paused, sighing long-sufferingly. "I mean... if he doesn't do it first. He'll basically be your in-law." Ryan grinned, but seriously - poor Brendon. He had only halfway won over Spencer's approval. Or maybe Spencer will be so amused over the fact that Ryan popped the question just before that that he'll just laugh it all off and decide to fully accept Brendon.

Ryan watched him roll to the side, crash against the mattress, flopping onto his front and hiding away in his pillow, and grinned the whole way through. What a mess. Not to ruin your epic proposal dreams, but. You just did blow my mind. Thought that was pretty evident. You’re really something. Ryan bit his lip again, hesitant, and rolled onto his side, lazily running his knuckles down Brendon's back and planting his cheek in his other palm. He studied him for a moment, the way his muscles stretched taut with his arms folded under his head like that, very nearly rolling his eyes at how ridiculously infatuated he was with his now-fiance. After a pause he leaned over him, bracketing an arm around his pillow and kissing the side of his head before speaking close to his ear. "I could do better." He toyed with his hair for a second, grinning, then fell back to his side of the bed, biting his thumbnail thoughtfully and running his other hand through his hair, letting it settle there. "Guess I'll save it 'til the honeymoon, though."

If Brendon was ever asked, say, what his favourite physical part of Ryan was- he wouldn’t know how to answer. He had reached the point where he was so in love that when he looked at him everything just kind of blurred together into just you’reperfect, you’restunningoutstandingbeautiful, and he couldn’t rank anything if he tried, though- he had favourites, sure. His hair- when it grew just a little too long the natural curls became infinitely more noticeable and Brendon thought it was the most precious thing he’d ever seen. His eyes, well, Brendon had enough to say about them that he could fill a book with compliments and descriptors that were worthy, he was tall and handsome with a defined jawline and a gentle smile and his hands- Brendon was gazing at them now, at how the many rings adorning his slender fingers glinted slightly in the dim light, and he was so fucking enamoured, even if he hadn’t been expecting a marriage proposal he sure was goddamn glad it had happened. Almost unable to bear it, he pressed his lips softly against the back of his hand, tender. I’m thinking a date, initials, lyrics... Something like that.

Humming absently against his skin, Brendon pulled back and looked at him from under his long eyelashes, picturing such a ring in his head as Ryan slid on the placeholder carefully. ”Lyrics?” He mused, leaning in before he finished his sentence to meet his fiancé in a loving kiss, ”From an existing song, or are y’gonna write a new one just for me?” Just for me, just for you, just for us. I’d do anything for you, we’re a unit, we belong together, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life, Brendon thought, dipping his head to admire the plain silver band as if it was his real engagement ring. He couldn’t wait for people to ask him about the ring and he’d immediately just launch into an appreciative tangent about his fiancé and nobody could complain because they’d asked in the first place. It was perfect. They had already been in as serious a relationship as they could have been, this just kind of- in addition to the romance of it all, it validated their relationship. Maybe people would stop thinking of Brendon as Ryan’s favourite boytoy. Though he didn’t particularly mind that role, particularly on nights like these. Though he’d probably made that clear enough already.

And I’m yours. In case that wasn’t obvious. It was obvious, and that was the beautiful thing about the two of them- there was no doubt. Brendon couldn’t ask for a boyfriend- fiancé- more devoted than Ryan was. What he wanted to say had already been said, though, so he responded in a way that was more classic of Brendon- pressing his hips down playfully, with no intention other than just winding Ryan up, because he was so cute when he was all flustered. They were kidding again and Brendon then rested his head against Ryan’s bare shoulder, inhaling and trying to regulate his breathing a little more before he drew away. Sorry about that. No he wasn’t. ”No you aren’t,” He laughed, raising his eyebrows adamantly. Brendon already knew how tomorrow would go: they’d wake up, probably stray between murmuring wholesome sweet nothings and fooling around for a few lazy, comfortable hours, then Brendon would get up and try and walk like he hadn’t been railed the night before and Ryan would fall over laughing at him. They’d fallen into the same comfortable routine every time.

He wasn’t mad, though. In fact, he was so enthusiastic about this whole thing that he was willing to risk his neck just to tell Spencer about what had happened. Spencer, who would most likely stare at him in disbelief and then immediately go and hunt down Ryan, hoping Brendon was just joking and Ryan hadn’t really impulsively proposed. Evidently Ryan didn’t really want that to happen. Brendon was too high from the joy of all of this to figure out why. Oh my god. If you tell Spencer, I will kill you, then myself. Sure, he was aware, but. It would be worth it just to see the look on Ryan’s best friend’s face. I mean... if he doesn't do it first. He'll basically be your in-law. Oh no. Brendon’s face crumpled and he sighed as he rolled off to the side, collapsing ungracefully into the sheets. ”He doesn’t even like me. Maybe he’s still convinced I’m just your whore. Which- I am.” The last part of that sentence was uttered like a guilty confession, but Brendon was grinning, his face hidden in his pillow. He felt his muscles relax completely and his body loosen up as he finally started to wind down, serene and happy and satisfied as Ryan trailed his knuckles gingerly down his back. It was pure and soft but then- I could do better.

That would be a level of good Brendon couldn’t even comprehend, so he just lifted his head, cocked an eyebrow and flashed Ryan a smile sickly sweet with anticipation and expectation. Bring it on, he always said. He was about to turn over and drag Ryan into his arms so they could fall asleep but then his fiancé had moved back over to his own side, so Brendon sat up, sheets falling and bunching around his waist as he tipped his head back, stretching out his muscles. Guess I’ll save it ‘til the honeymoon, though. Brendon looked over and shook his head adamantly. ”Why wait? I mean, we need to consummate our engagement, at some point. Give me a few hours and I’ll give you a nice wake up call, baby.” That being said, he was no longer that tired, too buzzed from the elated feeling of - being in love, he supposed. He gazed at Ryan adoringly.

F !