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The late morning sunlight seeps through the kitchen windows, as Gus spoons the last of his cereal. Shawn chatters beside him, his voice still slightly thick with sleep. Gus doesn’t pay much attention to what he’s saying — Shawn’s musings a distant but peaceful sound as Gus steals a sip of his juice.
“… which was kinda dumb, and exactly why I told him that,” Shawn continues.
Gus smiles at him and nods, plays with Shawn’s hand, gets lost in the comfort and familiarity of his voice. The warmth of the sun contrasts with the cool breeze, helping Gus wake up. And as his eyes catch on the flecks of gold in Shawn’s own, brought out by the sun, as he feels the weight of Shawn’s fingers in his, Gus thinks (not for the first time) that he’d like to do this for the rest of his life.
Squeezing Shawn’s hand, Gus gets up, places a kiss to the top of his head, and makes his way to the pantry. He fishes out a fresh box of Fruity Puffs and sits back at the table.
Shawn frowns and swallows a sip of coffee. “What’re you doing? Finish this one.” He gestures to the almost empty box of cereal already on the table.
“No.” Gus looks at him pointedly.
When Shawn raises an eyebrow at him, Gus rolls his eyes and continues.
“I know you already took the mood ring out of the box, and I am not giving you the satisfaction of having me finish the cereal with no prize.”
He nods satisfactorily and opens the new box.
Shawn stares at him for a moment before he squeaks out an incomprehensible noise.
Gus just looks at him.
“What? How’d you even —” Shawn finally starts.
“Shawn, please. I saw the bottom of the box when you were pouring your own bowl. And no, I didn’t need to do this —” Gus tilts his head to the side and squints his eyes dramatically “— to see it.”
“Hey!”
Patting Shawn on the shoulder, Gus smiles and takes the box.
“I’m wounded, Gus. Absolutely wounded .” Shawn puts a hand over his heart and gapes at Gus.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Gus snorts lightly, and he can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.
…Which quickly goes away as soon Shawn takes the box of cereal straight from his hand.
“Shawn!”
“Dude, just finish the box.”
Gus reaches for the cereal, frowning as Shawn holds it out of his reach.
“No way. You can finish it and go through your own bout of disappointment when you pour out a prize-less bowl because you were just too impatient to wait.”
Rolling his eyes, Shawn sighs and pushes the almost empty box closer to Gus.
“Trust me, you’ll want this one instead.”
“Nope.”
“Gus, will you just open the box?”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to,” Shawn whines. “And,” he adds, taking on his I’m-right-so-you-don’t-even-have-an-argument-come-on-Gus-we-both-know-this voice. “I’m not hungry. So if you don’t eat this, we both know it’ll sit in the back of the cabinet forever, and we also know — you hate wasting food.”
Gus clicks his tongue and ignores Shawn’s smug look. …But he grabs the initial box and pours the end of the cereal into his bowl.
Sometimes he hates that Shawn knows him so well.
There’s a dull clink as something non-Fruity-Puff hits his bowl. Gus frowns.
“What…” he murmurs. Gus moves his spoon around until it comes in contact with something hard.
When he pulls it out of the bowl, Gus is speechless.
Because it’s not a super dense, weirdly made Puff, and it’s not the cheap, plastic kid’s ring that’s usually there. No, it’s an actual, smooth, gold (and probably expensive), real ring. A wedding band. An engagement ring. Which could only mean…?
Gus looks over at Shawn, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet these past few moments. But he’s not in his chair anymore, and, instead, Gus finds Shawn on his knees in front of him.
Gus’s heart starts beating fast, because there Shawn is, looking up at him with the biggest, dopiest smile on his face.
“Shawn…” he breathes.
“Gus…” Shawn mimics, chuckling lightly. “I love you.” He tugs Gus’s hands down from the table and places them on Gus’s thigh, his own wrapping around them. “I’ve spent my whole life loving you.” Shawn shrugs his shoulders like it’s the simplest fact in the whole world. “Whether that was in a ‘you’re my best friend’ kind of way, or a ‘you’re my best friend and I also really like kissing you’ kind of way. Which, to me, weren’t really that different. And that’s what I think makes us so perfect.”
Gus can feel his face relax from the immediate surprise, and instead start to break into a blinding grin.
“To me, it’s simple. You’re my favorite person,” Shawn continues, squeezing Gus’s hands. “And I don’t ever want anyone else, but you. So,” Shawn draws in another breath. “Burton Gu — ”
“Yes,” Gus blurts out.
Shawn looks at him, feigned annoyance, and rolls his eyes. “Dude, I didn’t even ask you anything yet.”
Gus purses his lips. “Right. Sorry.”
Shawn smiles and starts again. “Gus, will you —”
“Yes!”
Shawn starts laughing, and shakes his head. “Oh my god! Gus, just lemme finish. ”
“Sorry, sorry,” Gus joins in his laughter.
“Will you marry — ”
“Yes! Uh huh, yes!” Nodding fast, Gus climbs out of his chair and onto the floor — well, onto Shawn. He wraps his arms around Shawn, and as he presses kisses to his face, Gus is glad the space is small — if the counters weren’t right there, he’s pretty sure he would’ve tackled Shawn completely.
“You still didn’t let me finish!” Shawn manages to get out. His grin makes it kind of hard for Gus to kiss him, but Gus doesn’t really mind. Shawn’s hands move along Gus’s back, over the soft, fuzzy blue of his fire engine PJ’s, before resting at his hips.
“I love you,” Gus murmurs against his skin, over and over, each time adding to the unsteady rhythm of his heart.
I love you . Against his cheek, his nose. I love you . To his temple, his forehead, the place where his cheek meets his lip. I love you, I love you, I love you . As Gus places a kiss to Shawn’s mouth, slow and gentle, hands tangled in messy hair, he knows he’ll never grow tired of saying it.
Shawn kisses back, lips, tongue, cool and sweet with orange juice, thumbs brushing against warm skin. And he grins, big and bright, as Gus says again, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Gus breaks from the kiss to smile, and Shawn takes advantage of the moment to pull back a bit further.
“Willyoumarryme?” He asks in one breath.
Gus tilts his head back in laughter, and it’s warm like sunshine, spreading love and joy through Shawn’s chest, all the way down to his toes and to his fingertips.
“Ha! I did it!”
Rolling his eyes at Shawn’s remark, Gus smiles and lightly slaps the back of his hand to Shawn’s chest.
“Of course I will.”
Shifting against the cabinets so he’s sitting up properly, Shawn takes the ring from Gus’s hand. The warm metal slides perfectly onto Gus’s finger, the weight of it unfamiliar, yet oddly satisfying. It’s something Gus can’t wait to get used to.
Gus looks at Shawn, takes in the way the sunlight shines against his skin, brightens the green in his eyes. As he plays with the light curls of Shawn’s un-styled hair, he smiles at the weight of Shawn’s hands on his hips, how he rubs circles to his skin, thumbs under his shirt.
“What?” Shawn asks, voice quiet and gentle in the easy silence of the room.
Gus shrugs lightly, kissing him again. “Nothing. I just love you, that’s all.”
“Told you you’d like that box better,” Shawn laughs softly.
“Yeah, yeah.” Grinning, Gus rolls his eyes and presses his lips to his cheek.
Shawn moves so their lips meet, and he kisses him slow and deep, hands gripping against Gus’s waist to bring him closer. Tongues sliding, lips moving, Gus presses Shawn firmly against the dark wooden cabinets. His fingers scrape at the little hairs on Shawn’s neck, bites his lip gently, and pulls back to take a breath.
“Come with me.”
Shawn pouts as Gus climbs off of him, takes his hand as Gus leads him to their bedroom.
“Hold on.”
“What're you —”
Gus rummages through the top drawer of their dresser, and when he turns back to Shawn, he holds up a small, velvet black box.
“ Oh .”
“You know that dinner reservation we have on Saturday? I was gonna ask you then.”
Shawn grins at Gus and kisses him, eyes squeezed shut, hands against his cheeks. And he keeps kissing him, hard and soft all at once, as Gus slips the ring onto his finger.
“I still get to hear your speech, though, right?” Shawn asks, lips grazing lips, his thumb brushing Gus’s cheek.
Tugging at the hem of Shawn’s t-shirt, Gus hums against him. “Maybe,” he smiles.
And as Shawn laughs, low and quiet, breath warm and sweet, Gus thinks, forever may not be long enough.