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He held the little box in his hand with care. Softly, his thumb stroked the red velvet. His other hand came around over the top and carefully he popped the box open. The golden ring that was inside shone in the light. It was simple. No stones, just a thin band. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. It was still inside. Not that he had taken it out since the jeweller had put it in there, it was more a check.
A check he had been doing every day leading up to this day…
He inhaled deeply, closed the box again and slid it in his pocket.
"Alex! Dinner’s almost ready!" Miles yelled from downstairs.
"Comin’!" He replied, his voice shaky.
He shot one last glance in the mirror, straightened his tie and pushed his hair back one more time. "You’ve got this," he spoke to himself, nodding at his reflection.
With that he left the room and stumbled down the stairs. His boyfriend stood in the kitchen, an apron over his colourful suit. He was softly humming a song while he checked the food in the oven. Alex’s heart nearly skipped a beat when Miles closed the oven, got up and gave him a bright smile.
"Just finishin’ up," he announced, puckering his lips.
"You look very domestic," Alex told him with a little smile, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
"You look very hot," Miles threw back. Alex blushed and averted his gaze. "That a new suit?"
Alex looked down at himself.
“Wh…? Yeah, yeah,” he lied, wanting to end the conversation as soon as he could.
Miles handed him two plates, chuckling at his blushing boyfriend.
"Will you put these on the table, please?"
Alex nodded and made his way to the dining room. His favourite room in the house, perhaps. When Miles and he bought the house two and a half years ago, he had fallen for it. Their small, round, wooden table was in the centre of the room. Right behind it there was a big, high, window with an outlook on the backyard and a broad window-sill. He spent a lot of time there, playing guitar and writing or snuggling up with Miles, a blanket and two glasses of wine…
Absentmindedly he put the plates down on the table, in-between the two pairs of knives and forks that were already on the table. Afterwards, he went to sit on his side. Carefully he glanced at the door, making sure Miles wasn’t coming in. Quickly he felt inside his pocket, fumbling for the little box. His hand closed around it briefly before letting go again when he saw the door handle go down and heard the door click.
Miles walked in, holding their food with oven mittens. It was a pasta dish and it smelt of tomato, pesto and mozzarella. Miles sniffed it happily, while Alex made a mental note to not throw up from all the nerves that were racing through his body.
“Are you okay, love?” Miles asked, putting the dish on the middle of the table. “You look like you’re about to throw up." He took the apron off and hung it on his chair. He threw the oven mittens aside and sat down across from Alex.
“‘m fine,” Alex assured him.
Unconvincingly, apparently. Miles gave him a look, raising his eyebrow.
“Really, I feel fine. Drop it.”
“‘right,” Miles mumbled, not quite believing him. “Can’t ‘ave you feelin’ sick on our anniversary, y’know.”
Alex smiled faintly.
“Look at that,” Miles laughed. “The word anniversary did it, eh?”
Alex broke out in a laugh, too, now. Even though he wasn’t sure it was because he thought the situation was funny or if he was so nervous he couldn’t control his emotions anymore.
“7 years…” Miles sighed, popping the champagne bottle and pouring both Alex and himself a glass. “Feels like so much longer, doesn’t it?”
“Only because we spent so much time going ‘round the fact we fancied each other…”
Miles grinned. “All you had to do back then was say you liked me.” He grabbed the serving spoon and dug in to put some pasta on their plates.
Alex looked at him in disbelief. “Well, same goes for you! You never told me anythin’ either—”
“I told you I like you!” Miles protested. Alex sighed, knowing Miles was right. I… I really like you, Turner, Miles’ slurred voice sounded in his head.
“‘kay, ‘kay. Earlier, then,” Alex corrected himself.
Miles put some pasta on Alex’s plate and stuck his tongue out. Alex wrinkled his nose at him in response and straightened his jacket. His hand rubbed over the red velvet box in his pocket and he froze in place. He had almost forgotten his plans for the evening.
He felt his cheeks turn red and he bent his head down, staring at his plate of pasta, nerves rocketing through him again. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and closed his eyes briefly, trying to remember the speech he had prepared.
It had taken him quite some time to think of what he wanted to say. Nothing seemed good enough. Nothing nearly expressed the deep feeling he had for Miles. Eventually, he even tried to put it in a song, but decided that he would be too nervous to even strum his guitar or sing. So, he came back to his idea of saying a few words. It wasn't until now that he remember that spoken word might not be his forte, either.
Miles, do y—
“Alex, what’re you doing?” Miles asked, putting his champagne down with an amused look on his face.
Suddenly, Alex’s hands shot up over the table, grabbing Miles’.
“Miles—”
“Al, seriously, what’s up with you? I’ve never seen like this before.” His tone was somewhere between concerned and annoyed.
Alex silenced him with a quick “shhh,” and grabbed his hands tighter. “Please, lemme finish, yeah?”
Miles nodded quickly, rubbing his thumbs over Alex’s hands to soothe him.
“Miles, do you remember November 3rd, 2008?”
The other man stared at him, confused. Suddenly it seemed to click in his head.
“The end of the tour,” he replied with a small smile. “I first kissed you that night.”
“Yes!” Alex almost shouted out. “I remember exactly what you told me then: ‘I really like you, Turner.’ And then I grabbed your shirt and kissed you back.”
Miles giggled at the memory. “I was scared shitless… Those moments that evenin’ are ‘bout the only things I remember of November 3rd, 2008…”
“That evenin’…” Alex continued. “That evenin’ was the start of… all this. I mean, I liked you before that, obviously… What I’m trying to say is… it was the start of us.”
“Where are you going with this, Alex?”
Alex ignored his question. “You pretty much made me the happiest man on earth. Especially the day after, when you told me you meant it, you know, after we had sobered up and all…” he trailed off. “And I er… ever since, I never really stopped being that happy. Sometimes it’s hard, when we’re both tourin’ and we can’t see each other as much. But, we make it work.”
Miles flashed him a smile. “I feel the same way.”
Alex let out a sigh of relief and got up, still holding Miles’ hands, making him sit sideways on his chair while Alex knelt next to him. Wide-eyed, Miles stared down at him, mouth open to say something, but no sounds came out.
“You make me happy, Miles. All I want is… to be this happy forever, with you.” He let Miles’ hands go and fumbled for the box in his pocket, turning away from Miles, opening the box and turning back. As he turned back, the box hit Miles’ knee. The ring fell out, bounced on the floor once and rolled under Miles’ chair. Miles brought his hands up to his face, gasping.
“Oh, no… Fuck, no, I…” Alex stuttered.
He bent down, almost crawling under the chair. He stretched his fingers out, reaching for the ring and grabbed a hold of it tightly, before coming back up. His head had turned a dark shade of red.
“Fuck… Well, this is completely ruined now,” he mumbled with a breathy laugh, blinking away his tears of desperation and embarrassment.
Miles cupped Alex’s face in his hands, brushing his thumbs over his cheeks. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Just continue as you would’ve if nothing had happened.”
Alex nodded in his grip. Miles let go of him, looking at him with anticipation. Alex held the ring up between thumb and index finger.
“Miles, I love you,” he spoke, his voice unsteady. “Please, spend forever with me. Will you marry me?”
Miles closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Then he smiled to himself before whispering a breathy “Yes.”
With shaky hands Alex put the ring around Miles’ finger, who looked at the ring for a moment before standing up, pulling Alex with him. He pressed his lips to Alex’s and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Alex wove his hands around Miles’ back, letting them rest there. After a while Miles pulled away.
They stared at each other for a while before Miles whispered, “I really like you, Turner.”
Alex just grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him in for a kiss.