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Plans, as they say, are meant to collapse.
In Tooru’s case, it couldn’t be any more true; he had planned a romantic evening and imagined the moment, Wakatoshi finding the ring hidden in the cream puff, with his face slack and emotionless as always, but his olive green eyes sparkly from happiness.
Instead, Tooru sits on the bench of a hospital corridor now, grumbling to himself while Iwa-chan lectures him through the phone.
“This is all your fault, Shittykawa,” comes the sound, harsh through the speakers. “You could’ve proposed like a normal human, but no, you gotta risk the health of an athlete one week before the fucking Olympic Games began!”
“He was not supposed to swallow the ring!” Tooru says apologetically for the umpteenth time, without any effect.
Iwa-chan continues to scold and berate him, sometimes questioning his intelligence, sometimes his sanity. Wakatoshi exits the examination room just at the right time to become ear-witness to Iwa-chan’s retelling of all the embarrassing things Tooru has done since the beginning of their relationship; from the pranks he played on Wakatoshi – some, Tooru is sure, Wakatoshi didn’t even know about – to that one time he literally climbed into the Ushijima manor through the window in a heroic fit to rescue Wakatoshi from his oppressive mother who didn’t support their relationship.
“Do you remember, Shittykawa, when you risked Ushijima breaking a leg because you thought it was perfectly reasonable to make him escape from home using a fuckin’ tree? Remember when the branch broke off under you, and you both landed in the garden?! Just one day before the national tournament!”
Wakatoshi listens on for a while with one of his rare smiles on his face, before he leans down, close to the speakers, speaking softly.
“I’m fine, Iwaizumi. The doctor said the ring will come out on its own.”
“I’m not interested in the details!” Iwa-chan reprimands him, too. “It shouldn’t be in you in the first place!”
“You worry too much,” Wakatoshi says, meeting Tooru in the eyes before he takes the phone from him and hangs up the call. “You, too.”
“I… sorry,” Tooru says, casting his eyes away. “It was a dumb idea.”
“It was your idea,” Wakatoshi replies, in a tone that implies it is self-explanatory.
“I wanted to make it special.”
“You always do.”
“You pointed that out as if…!” Tooru wants to fight it, but his words get stuck in his throat as his eyes meet Wakatoshi. “What?”
“I love you,” Wakatoshi says.
“You’ve just been implying that I’m stupid.”
“You are,” Wakatoshi nods, reaching for Tooru’s hand. He covers it with his own, pulling it into his lap. “But you are also cute and thoughtful and determined, and you are hard-working to a fault. And I love you dearly.”
“Even if I mess things up?”
“I was way angrier when you injured your knee,” Wakatoshi says, laying his head on Tooru’s shoulder. “In fact, I’m not angry at all at the moment.”
“What is a proposal to a knee injury, huh?” Tooru laughs nervously.
“Exactly.”
“I see…”
“You sound concerned. What bothers you?”
“Nothing…”
“And apart from nothing?” Wakatoshi pries, drawing circles over Tooru’s wrist in his hand.
“You… you didn’t even get to see the ring,” Tooru says with a long sigh. “I couldn’t even propose properly. I… I didn’t even pop the question, but I feel so nervous now because you know that I wanted to propose, but you didn’t say anything…”
“What could I say apart from what I’ve always been saying?”
“I should’ve gone to Shiratorizawa?” Tooru asks, letting out a little, hysterical chuckle as his nerves get him. “Or that I waste my talent? Or that I should have a regular sleep schedule? Drink more water?”
“That now that I have you, I’m never going to let go.”
“Is that a yes?”
“What is the question?”
“Damn you Ushiwaka, don’t play with my heart like this. Will you marry me or not?”
“Yes.”
“Which one?!”
“Yes, I will marry you,” Wakatoshi says.
Tooru turns to him, watching his stupid expressionless face for a while, searching for signs of joke or mockery. All he finds is a small, excited sparkle hidden deep in Wakatoshi’s moss colored eyes.
“And… what if you don’t like the ring…?” he asks on the verge of tears.
“I wouldn’t be able to wear it anyways,” Wakatoshi replies. Curt, practical.
Tooru jabs him in the side.
“But I can wear it around my neck,” Wakatoshi offers. “As a necklace? I think it would be cute.”
“You never call anything cute,” Tooru grumbles.
“Except you,” Wakatoshi points out, pressing a peck on the tip of Tooru’s nose.
“Unfair,” Tooru complains.
“Hn,” Wakatoshi lets him, leaning in for a real kiss. “So, you’ll take my name finally?”
“Never!”