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“Kun… Kun! KUN!”
Ten pauses in his knocking to frown at the door in front of him. The number on the mailbox is definitely correct, so he knows he’s not bothering some poor neighbor, and Kun’s car is in the driveway, so he’s definitely home. Ten had even texted that he was coming before he called the Uber. He hadn’t gotten a response, but still - there is literally no reason for Kun to be ignoring him right now.
Especially since Ten is having an emergency.
Ten slaps the door, then jams the doorbell a few times for good measure. “Kun!!”
“Jesus Christ, calm down!” Ten hears Kun’s muffled voice just as the front porch light is flicked on. Kun pauses when he opens the door and registers it’s Ten. “Ten? What the -”
“Took you long enough,” Ten grumbles, ignoring Kun’s protests as he shoulders his way past Kun and through the door. He misjudges his footing and trips over the entryway, knocking into Kun a little harder than he intends to. Well, serves him right for taking so long to answer the door.
“Ten,” Kun says again. Ten ignores him, steadying himself on the wall so he can toe his shoes off and shove his feet into a pair of guest slippers. He hears Kun sigh and curse under his breath, shutting the front door.
“Stop that - put your shoes back on.” Kun grabs at Ten’s shoulders in an attempt to stop him from walking down the hallway.
“What do you mean? You can’t kick me out. I’m a guest. I’ve got the guest slippers and everything.” Ten gestures vaguely in the direction of his feet, swaying out of Kun’s hold.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean - wait a second.” Kun grips Ten’s shoulders again, this time managing to turn him around. He peers at Ten suspiciously. “You’re drunk.”
It’s not phrased as a question, but Ten considers it anyway. “Am I?”
He counts on his fingers. A bottle of soju - a small bottle of soju - and the last few cans of Johnny’s terrible PBRs shouldn't have gotten him drunk. Maybe tipsy, at most.
“When’s the last time you ate?” Kun asks.
Ten frowns. “I dunno, lunch? What’s that got to do with anything?”
Kun sighs. “Dude, it’s 1 am. A bottle of soju and a few beers on an empty stomach will definitely get you drunk.”
Oh. Ten hadn’t realized he’d said all that out loud.
“Okay, maybe I am drunk,” he says - out loud on purpose this time. “But it’s because there’s an emergency.”
Kun levels him with a flat look. “An emergency?”
Ten nods. “A Johnny emergency,” he says.
He slides his hand into his pocket, only hesitating for a moment before pulling out the little velvet box he’s been carrying around for weeks.
Kun’s whole body shifts when he sees the box, his hands dropping to his sides, eyes going wide. “Who…?”
“It’s mine.” Ten fidgets. “I want to - I can’t -” He has to pause and gather himself, swallowing down as much of his anxiety as he can.
“That’s why I’m here,” he says finally. “I need help. I don’t know how to do this.”
Kun shuts his eyes and takes in a deep, deliberate inhale, his lips moving as he counts to himself. It’s a strategy Ten has seen him use many times to help him calm down. Ten genuinely doesn’t like upsetting his friends, but Kun’s count to three strategy is usually a good sign, because it means that he’s resigned himself to give into whatever situation is at hand.
Sure enough -
“Alright, fine,” Kun sighs. “At least take off your coat.”
***
Kun hustles him out of his coat and down the hallway, and before Ten knows it he’s sitting at Kun’s spacious island, a glass of water in his hand and the kettle on the stove to boil.
“Wait here,” Kun says. He wipes his hands on his sweatpants - a gesture that Ten recognizes as a nervous tic and finds suspicious, in context. “I’ll be right back.”
Ten narrows his eyes. “What’s got you all flustered?”
Ten watches in fascination as Kun’s cheeks heat. Interesting. Kun clears his throat. “I’m not -”
“Honey? Who was at the door?”
Just as quickly as it appeared, the blood drains from Kun’s face. Ten frowns. Honey? He didn’t know that Kun was dating someone. Also, the voice sounds vaguely familiar.
He doesn’t have to remain curious for long - a few moments later, someone comes bounding down the stairs, freezing in their tracks when they see Ten.
It’s fucking -
“Yangyang?” Ten says, incredulous. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh - uh, hey, Ten.” Yangyang’s voice is too high, falsely casual, and he’s even more flushed than Kun was a moment ago.
Actually, he looks pretty disheveled, his hair in disarray, dressed in only a t-shirt and boxers. The boxers are way shorter than anything Yangyang usually wears, and high up on his thigh, there’s -
“Oh my god,” Ten cries. He stares in disbelief as Yangyang curses and attempts - to no avail - to cover the mark. “Is that a hickey?”
Yangyang pauses. “Would you believe me if I told you I got burnt with a curling iron?”
Ten has half a mind to throw the glass in his hand at Yangyang’s head. “Doing what, trying to curl your pubes?”
“Can we please not talk about Yangyang’s pubes in my kitchen,” Kun says, muffled behind the hands he’s pressed over his face.
Ten whips around to look at him, incredulous. “Why not? From the looks of it, it seems like you’ve already gotten pretty familiar with Yangyang’s pubic area. How could you! He’s a baby!”
“Hey! I’m not a baby! I’m 23!”
Ten gives him a flat look. “Still a young boy. Far too young to be sleeping with this old man.”
“I’m like, a month older than you,” Kun says weakly, sliding his hands down his face. “And why do you want to talk about this, anyway? I thought you had an emergency.”
Ah, shit. Ten has always been far too easily distracted when drunk - he’d already forgotten about his original purpose for being here. He debates giving up on getting any sort of advice tonight - he’d come here for Kun, after all, not Yangyang. But both of his friends do look a little legitimately panicked, so he decides to cut them some slack.
“Ugh, fine.” He points at Kun and Yangyang in turn. “Don’t think I’m forgetting about this, though.”
He hears Yangyang sigh heavily, but ignores it in favor of fumbling in his pocket, pulling out the ring box and setting it on the island in front of him.
“Holy shit!” The sight of the box shakes Yangyang out of his stupor, and he rushes down the rest of the stairs, crashing into the seat next to Ten. “Are you gonna propose to Johnny? Congrats, man! That’s awesome!”
Ten can’t hold back a small smile in the face of Yangyang’s wide, earnest grin. He huffs out a laugh. “Well, don’t congratulate me yet. I’ve been carrying this thing around with me for, like, three weeks, and I haven’t got up the guts to actually ask him.”
Kun snorts. “What’s the hold up?”
Ten swats his arm. “What do you mean, what’s the hold up?”
Kun rolls his eyes. “You know I mean. What’s taking you so long? It’s not like he’s gonna say no. I’m surprised you didn’t elope the day after you slept together.”
Kun does have a point there. Ten is well aware of the reputation they’ve gained in their friend group for being the most insufferable as a couple. At one point, Jungwoo even pulled Ten aside to ask if they could tone down the PDA.
Ten doesn’t embarrass easily, but the most shameless person he knows telling him that he’s being too shameless isn’t exactly something he’s proud of.
“Be that as it may,” Ten says primly, “that doesn’t make it any easier to ask. You guys know how Johnny is. He’s so - thoughtful, and caring. He’s the most romantic person any of us know. Just because I know he’ll say yes doesn’t mean I can’t make it special.”
“Aww, Tennie.” Yangyang tries to pin his cheek, and Ten has to bat his hand away. “That’s so sweet.”
“Shut up,” Ten grumbles. Great, now he can feel his cheeks heating. He decides to blame it on the beer, chugging the rest of his glass of water in an attempt to will his blush down.
“Alright, so.” Kun takes the glass from Ten’s hand. He swiftly refills it with water from the tap before sliding it back to Ten, fixing him with a no-nonsense look. “How can we help you actually pull the trigger on this?”
Kun’s mother hen instincts are so strong it’s hilarious - here Ten is, clearly ruining his booty call (or is it a date? eew) with Yangyang, and yet he can’t help but fret over a friend in distress. Ten has to take another drink of water to swallow down his laugh. He came here for exactly this, after all, and it wouldn’t do to bite the hand that is currently feeding him.
“I just need ideas,” he says. “Like I said, the proposal has to be perfect. But every time I try to subtly ask Johnny what he thinks the ideal date would be, all he says is cheesy shit like, ‘Any one I’m on with you, baby.’ And then he distracts me with… kissing. And stuff.”
Kun’s smile is only slightly pained. “That’s really sweet. But it’s also too much information.”
Ten raises his eyebrows, pointedly looking between him and Yangyang.
Kun clears his throat awkwardly. “And anyway,” he continues, “I don’t see why it’s an issue?”
“Yeah,” Yangyang chimes in. “If any date that you’re present at is perfect, then literally all you have to do is be there. Just take him to dinner or something. Boom, problem solved.”
Ten glares at Yangyang. “Problem not solved. It’s a ruse - of course he has an idea of the type of date he’d like to go on. He’s probably just not telling me because he thinks I should already know. And then I’ll take him on the worst date ever and I’ll try to propose and he’ll say no because I don’t know him at all and -”
“Okay, breathe. I think you’ve been watching too many Hallmark movies,” Kun cuts in. His voice is dry, but he’s looking at Ten with real concern, and Yangyang starts rubbing his back.
He does as Kun instructs, for once in his life, taking a deep breath in an effort to calm down. He presses his water glass to his cheek, the cool glass a welcome and soothing sensation.
“Logically, I know you’re right,” he says after a few moments, the glass shifting with the movement of his jaw. “I don’t think he’d break up with me or anything. But I still - I want to do right by him in this. I’ve literally never cared so much about something - someone - in my life.”
Alright, so maybe Ten has been watching too many Hallmark movies. Maybe that’s what he was doing while he was drinking himself into a stupor before Ubering to his best friend’s house unannounced.
Next to him, Yangyang sniffs conspicuously. It’s enough to pull Ten out of his maudlin musings.
“Liu Yangyang, if you start crying right now I’m going to smack you.”
“I’m not going to cry,” Yangyang says with a pout, voice choked. Ten puts the water down and shoves at his face lightly, for good measure.
Kun sighs at their antics. “I can’t with either of you, I swear.” But when Ten looks over at him, his eyes are suspiciously shiny.
Right as Ten opens his mouth to - he doesn’t know, berate his friends for caring about him or something - the forgotten kettle on the stove finally starts whistling. It’s enough to startle everyone in the room and pull them out of the weird mood of the moment.
Ten and Yangyang clear their throats while Kun turns and busies himself with the kettle, wiping at his eyes.
God, Ten thinks, we’re all getting so emotional in our old age.
“Okay,” He says emphatically, smacking his palms on the counter. “Enough crying for all of us. Help me game plan this.”
***
“Ten, please - just tell me where we’re going!”
Ten reaches up with the hand that isn’t clasping Johnny’s to flick him in the forehead. “If you ask me where we’re going one more time, we’re not going at all. I’m not afraid to turn this car around.”
Johnny raises an eyebrow, glancing meaningfully at the sidewalk they're walking on. “Oh, is this your new car? Hmm. Pretty spacious. A little cold, though. I’m not sure your heating is working.”
Ten giggles. Johnny is so ridiculous, and so beautiful - his eyes are bright with mirth as he teases Ten, his cheeks flushed from the chill of the February air. Ten has half a mind to turn them around anyway, to drag Johnny back to their cozy apartment and their warm bed so that he can make Johnny flush in another way. Johnny is addicting like that.
But no - he’s on a mission. He has to stay focused.
“No heating,” Ten says. “No fuel, either. Runs entirely on foot power.”
Johnny hums thoughtfully. “Eco-friendly. Nice. I like that in a man.”
“Oh, yeah?” Ten laughs. “Climate consciousness does it for you, huh?”
“Among other things,” Johnny says with a grin. “Hey - c’mere.”
Ten already knows exactly what Johnny’s after when Johnny tugs on his hand - he tilts his head up so that when Johnny presses in to kiss him, he’s ready for it.
They’ve been dating for years, and they’ve been friends for even longer. But Ten knows he will never, ever get tired of the way Johnny kisses him.
It’s kind of why he’s on this whole mission in the first place.
“I love you,” Ten whispers against Johnny’s lips. In that moment, his heart is so full - with the knowledge that he gets to have Johnny in his life, with the thought of what he’s planning to do tonight - that he has to say something, just to relieve a little bit of the pressure.
Ten can feel Johnny’s mouth curve up in an answering smile.
“I love you too,” he murmurs. He puts a few more inches between them so he can look Ten in the eye. “But if you really loved me -”
Ten smacks his chest in reprimand, pushing him away. “John Suh! For the last time -”
“I know, I know,” Johnny laughs. “I won’t ask anymore. But I couldn’t resist - you’re too easy to rile up, baby.”
“Who are you calling easy?” Ten gasps in mock offense, and that sets them off on a whole new round of bickering that carries them the rest of the way to their destination. It’s familiar enough that it mostly manages to distract Ten - right up until they’re standing outside the venue.
“Uh…” Johnny hesitates. “Not that I don’t love this place, babe, but - why are we at Jaehyun’s shop?”
Ten has to bite back a smile at Johnny’s earnest confusion.
Kun had suggested that Ten start by picking a place that’s meaningful to both him and Johnny before coming up with the rest of his plan, and Jaehyun’s coffee shop had been the first place to come to mind. They go for coffee every Saturday morning to catch up and sample whatever pastry Jaehyun is testing out that week. The cafe is a special place, of course, but it also happens to be part of their normal, regular routine that they’ve built in their lives together.
It also happens to be the first place they met. And that’s why Ten has picked it for the location of his proposal.
Ten had been new to the area, in town on a student visa to attend university. He’d been lost, and tired, and absolutely starving, and had randomly stumbled into the cafe for a desperately-needed bite to eat, only to find that he’d lost his wallet at some point along the way.
He’d stood there at the counter, forlorn, considering just saying fuck it to everything and scurrying back home to Thailand, when a voice behind him had said, “Hey, dude - I can cover it.”
If only that Ten had known where he’d end up, nine years later - standing with the man who’d saved his day, trying to work up the courage to ask if he wanted to get married.
“That’s part of the surprise,” Ten says, belatedly, tugging himself out of his reverie. “Come on - I’ll show you.”
The bell over the door tinkles as they make their way inside, Jaehyun looking up from his work at the counter to grin at them.
“Hey guys,” he says. “Have a seat at the counter - I’m just closing the register.”
“Thanks, Jaehyun.” Ten uses his grip on Johnny’s hand to lead them to the stools at the end of the bar, ignoring the confused looks Johnny keeps sending his way.
“Is there some sort of event I forgot?” Johnny whispers, ducking his head to talk to Ten while Jaehyun whistles to himself at the register. “An intervention? A group date? A - oh god, it’s not our anniversary or something, is it?”
Ten laughs softly at Johnny’s mildly panicked expression, squeezing his fingers. “No, nothing like that. Just a regular date night, you and me.”
“And Jaehyun,” Johnny points out, an eyebrow raised.
Ten rolls his eyes. “Yes, and Jaehyun. But he’s here for a reason - you’ll see.”
A few moments later, Jaehyun closes the cash register with a clang, then makes his way over to Johnny and Ten. “Thanks for waiting,” he says, an easy grin on his face.
“No problem. Although,” Johnny says, giving Ten a meaningful look, “it’s not like I even know what we’re waiting for.”
Ten sticks his tongue out at Johnny, who mouths Real mature.
“Well it’s not exactly a surprise if you know what’s going to happen,” Jaehyun laughs. “And anyway, I think this will be worth it.”
He pulls a tray out from somewhere under the counter, clearly prepared for this occasion. There’s a stack of mugs next to two frothing pitchers. The mugs have little hearts on them - clearly seasonal Valentine’s Day mugs that Jaehyun has decided to pull out early - and the tray is littered with heart-shaped confetti.
Ten shoots a glance at Jaehyun, who refuses to make eye contact with Ten, still watching for Johnny’s reaction. But Ten can see the beginnings of a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth - which means he did all this on purpose, the gremlin. Half of Ten has to admit that it’s pretty cute. But mostly he wants to point out to Jaehyun that there is such a thing as laying it on too thick.
Luckily, Johnny doesn’t seem to find the Valentine’s paraphernalia unusual - or at least, not more unusual than he finds the rest of the situation. He glances up at Jaehyun, then over to Ten. “We’re… making coffee?”
Jaehyun does smile at that. “We’re making latte art,” he corrects.
“Oh!” Johnny perks up immediately, sitting up and looking at Ten with bright eyes. “Seriously? A personal latte art tutorial from the Jeong Jaehyun?”
It’s a little tongue-in-cheek, but Ten can tell that Johnny is genuinely excited. Jaehyun is one of their closest friends, and he also just so happens to be an internationally-recognized, award-winning barista. He doesn’t have the trophies he’s won at the store, but Ten and Johnny have seen where they’re proudly displayed in a curio cabinet in Jaehyun’s living room. There’s a certain subset of the population that would pay a lot of money for private latte art lessons from him.
Ten had hoped that Johnny would be one of those people - he has a lot riding on this date, after all.
“Johnny,” Jaehyun admonishes, his ears going pink. He clears his throat. “Anyway - yes, latte art lessons.”
“Can’t wait for Ten to blow me out of the water on this one.” Johnny grins, turning to Ten. “Is that the real reason you planned this date? Not to make me happy, but so you could show off?”
Ten pats his hand encouragingly. “I’m sure you’re going to make something amazing, babe,” he says. He gestures to Jaehyun. “We have an expert teaching us, after all!”
Ten doesn’t mention the fact that he’s been secretly watching latte art tutorials on YouTube for the past several days. He does hope that Johnny manages to produce something that he’s happy with - but Ten is the one who has an ulterior motive in getting this right.
Jaehyun just rolls his eyes. “We’re starting with the easiest style.” He picks up one of the pieces of heart confetti in demonstration. “Don’t worry - you’ll both do fine.”
***
“Ten? Baby?”
“What.”
“May I offer a suggestion?”
“You may not.”
Ten ignores Johnny’s sigh - he has to be focused. In the zone. One wrong move and he’ll -
“Dammit!”
Ten thought he was being so careful this time, but suddenly his hand slips, the heart he was meticulously making morphing into a shapeless blob.
Jaehyun snorts out a laugh, shrugging unapologetically when Ten shoots him a glare.
“This is not funny,” Ten snaps.
“It’s a little funny. Like - come on.” Jaehyun gestures to the mugs scattered across the counter. There are nearly a dozen of them, with latte art of varying quality.
Well. If one considers the wide chasm between “professional-looking” and “unrecognizable” merely varying.
“Who’s the professional artist here, again?” Jaehyun says with a smirk.
Ten slams the mug down with what is probably more force than necessary, coffee and the foam that had once been his sixth attempt at a heart sloshing onto the counter.
“Hey!” Johnny cuts in, laying a steadying hand on Ten’s arm. “Chill, both of you - there’s no need to get mean.”
“Easy for you to say,” Ten grumbles. He can’t help but glare at the mugs scattered in front of Johnny - he’d gotten a perfect heart on his first try, and had spent the last half hour moving onto progressively more complex tulips. Which are all also perfect.
Ten loves Johnny, truly. But he also, at this moment, kind of hates him.
Johnny doesn’t bother responding to Ten, just giving him a look that Ten interprets as Behave as he stands up from his stool.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom. Try not to kill each other in the five minutes I’m gone,” Johnny says drily. He presses a kiss to the top of Ten’s head as he goes - Ten is forced to admit that he’s somewhat mollified by the gesture.
All that good feeling goes out the window, however, as soon as the bathroom door swings behind Johnny.
“Dude,” Jaehyun says.
“Shut up and hand me a towel,” Ten snaps.
Jaehyun passes over a clean rag, but he doesn’t shut up. “I told you to practice.”
“I know, I know.” Ten is aware that he’s whining, but he can’t seem to make himself stop as he mops up the mess he’s made. “But you know how long it takes to prepare everything - I thought I could get away with just watching some YouTube videos.”
Jaehyun hums, reaching out to slide one of Ten’s failed attempts over to himself. “YouTube videos, huh? How’s that going for you?”
“Maybe it’s your fault,” Ten counters. “You’re supposed to be a world-renowned barista, or whatever, and you can’t even teach a professional artist how to make a foam heart?”
“I guess not,” Jaehyun concedes. He pauses, then tugs at one of Johnny’s cups. It’s probably the fourth or fifth cup he worked on, and a five-layered tulip sits atop the cooling coffee. “I can only teach professional office workers.”
“Hmm,” Ten says. “You know, I think I might strangle you.”
Jaehyun is not cowed by Ten’s very real threat, his grin widening. “If you strangle me, then who’s going to help you propose to your boyfriend?”
“Oh for fuck’s - just yell it to the whole street, why don’t you,” Ten hisses, smacking Jaehyun with the dirty towel. “And anyway, I’m not proposing to him tonight. The plan’s called off.”
The grin slides off Jaehyun’s face. “What?! No, come on - I thought that was the whole point of all this!”
“That was before I found out that I can’t make a fucking milk foam heart if my life depended on it.” Ten picks up the mug containing what must have been attempt number three. “You can’t expect me to ask Johnny to spend the rest of our lives together with Flubber.”
Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “Bro, I’m telling you. Johnny will not care. You’re massively overthinking this.”
“Of course I am! Why do you think it’s taken me this long to even get to this point?”
“To what point?”
Ten startles at the sound of Johnny’s voice, coming from directly behind him.
“Jesus, Johnny.” Ten’s heart is racing, flustered by the shock of Johnny sneaking up on him and his anxiety that Johnny just overheard their entire fucking conversation. “Uh - how long have you been standing there?”
“Only a second,” Johnny says, sliding back into the seat next to Ten. “Sorry it took so long - I got distracted. Jaehyun, bro, how many soaps do you need in one bathroom?”
Jaehyun huffs out a laugh. “That’s Doyoung’s influence. He says we have to have enough variety to satisfy every customer. I think he just likes calling his Lush habit a ‘business expense.’”
“Well, anything to make the customers happy, right?” Johnny says with a grin. “It certainly worked on me. Anyway - what were you guys talking about?”
“Uh- the latte art,” Ten says quickly, before Jaehyun can even think of saying anything. Ten doesn’t think Jaehyun would give him away so easily, but he can’t be too certain, with the way Jaehyun has been acting tonight. “Jaehyun says I’m overthinking it.”
“I hate to say it, babe, but I think Jaehyun is right.” Johnny fiddles with the handle of the mug in front of him, which is evidence of one of Ten’s earliest attempts. “I know you take everything you do seriously, but - it’s just latte art. The world isn’t going to stop spinning because you can’t make a foam heart.”
“Yeah,” Jaehyun cuts in, “And anyway, at the end of the day, no one remembers whether they got a perfect foam heart in their cup - they remember the coffee it came with.”
If Johnny weren’t sitting literally right next to him, Ten would be giving Jaehyun the world’s most epic death glare - even if Jaehyun does have a little bit of a point.
Still - he’s not going to give in that easily.
“That may be true for some people,” Ten counters, “but that doesn’t mean you should be satisfied with half-assed latte art. It sets the tone for the whole - coffee.”
Jaehyun outright laughs at that, the fucker. “It does not set the tone for the coffee. The - uh - beans set the tone for the coffee.”
“Are we still talking about latte art? You guys are taking this way too seriously,” Johnny says.
Shit - if they keep going on like this, Johnny will definitely know something is up. The metaphor is starting to get away from Ten anyway. “You’re right,” he says, loading mugs onto the tray they’ve been using for used dishes. “Let’s get out of Jaehyun’s hair.”
“It’s no trouble,” Jaehyun says. “But if Ten is ready to give up on perfecting his latte art, I can let you guys go.”
Ten narrows his eyes. “It’s not giving up. I’ll just - regroup and try again later.”
“That’s the spirit!” Johnny chimes in, smacking a kiss on Ten’s cheek. Ten has to hold back a sigh. His Johnny - so optimistic, but so clueless. Not that Ten wants him to have a clue, in this particular case.
He and Johnny help Jaehyun rinse all the mugs and pack them into the dishwasher. Jaehyun doesn't leave with them, claiming he has a few more things to do before opening tomorrow, and he lets Johnny and Ten leave first.
Johnny is barely out the door, Ten ready to follow, when Jaehyun calls for his attention.
“Hey, Ten.”
Ten hesitates for a moment - he’s a little annoyed with Jaehyun, but mostly he’s annoyed at himself that this night didn’t go the way he’d planned. But that’s not Jaehyun’s fault, really, so he half-turns in the doorway.
“Remember,” Jaehyun says, raising his eyebrows and giving him a meaningful look, “It’s about the beans.”
Ten rolls his eyes. “Thanks,” he says wryly, ignoring Jaehyun’s laughter following him out the door.
He’d never admit this to his friend, just on principle, but - the idea does make Ten feel a little bit better.
***
Okay, so. Attempt number one had been - well, Ten hesitates to call it a complete disaster, because Johnny did have fun making the art, even if the end goal of getting proposed to wasn’t actually achieved. Ten is trying to be better about going easy on himself and speaking to himself with kind words, so he decides to be generous and call it somewhat of a disaster instead.
Ten doesn’t go to therapy, because his insurance sucks, but if he did have a therapist he thinks they would be proud.
Anyway - time waits for no man, and the ring he’s been carrying for close to a month now is starting to burn a little bit of a hole in his pocket.
So it’s less than a week later, cuddled up on the couch for their weekly movie night, when he makes their next date suggestion to Johnny.
“Sure, baby, we can go to the boardwalk,” Johnny says, smiling up at Ten. Ten had decided to perch himself on Johnny’s lap to make this request, because he knows that Johnny will say yes to just about any of Ten’s suggestions when he’s got his hands on Ten’s ass. “Why, though?”
Ten gasps in mock offense, smacking at Johnny’s chest. “How dare you - have you forgotten about the importance of the boardwalk?”
“Mercy, mercy!” Johnny laughs. He snags Ten’s hand so he can press a kiss to the knuckles. “I know it’s where we had our first date. But it’s not exactly ideal boardwalk season. And we already celebrated my birthday - which I know you remember.”
“Oh, do I,” Ten purrs. He rolls his hips a little, just to watch Johnny’s breath hitch.
Johnny is such an easy boyfriend. All he’d wanted for his birthday present was A sexy night with you, babe - which is barely even a gift, in Ten’s opinion, since they fuck almost every night anyway. Still, he tried to make it special. The lingerie had been expensive, but ruining it had been totally worth it.
In his deliberations with Kun and Yangyang, Kun had actually suggested using Johnny’s birthday as an excuse to propose. But Ten had shot down the idea - it was too cliche, and if something happened to go wrong then Johnny would always be reminded of it on his birthday.
“Nothing is going to go wrong,” Yangyang had snapped, at the same time that Kun had said, “That’s probably smart actually,” and Ten trusts Kun way more than Yangyang - current choices of sexual partner notwithstanding.
So: plan B, aka the boardwalk, aka the place Johnny and Ten had their first date.
“Do I need a special occasion to want to go out with you?” Ten says, snapping himself back into the moment. He pouts at Johnny, who is looking up at him with something that could turn into interest if Ten decided to push it.
“Of course not.” Johnny releases his grip on Ten’s fingers so he can get both his hands back on Ten’s ass, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into his hips. “I was just curious, that’s all. When do you want to go?”
Ten hopes he’s not radiating the smugness he feels. Hands on the ass method - works every time.
“How about Monday night? That way we can beat the weekend rush. We can go right after you get off work.” Also, fewer people means fewer witnesses in case Ten’s plan goes disastrously, a detail that Johnny doesn’t need to know.
“Monday?” Johnny tilts his head, thinking. “I could have sworn there was something happening on Monday, but maybe not. You’re usually better at making plans than I am.”
Ten barely manages to stop himself from laughing in Johnny’s face. Better at making plans - if only he knew.
“Glad you’re finally ready to admit I’m better than you at something,” he says instead. He leans in to press a quick kiss to Johnny’s lips. “Monday - it’s a date.”
When he pulls away, Johnny is grinning. “It’s a date.”
***
“So, Ten?” Johnny says, looking at the boardwalk through the windshield of their car, “I remember what was happening on Monday.”
“Yeah, me too,” Ten says through gritted teeth.
There’s a veritable flood of people occupying the boardwalk, way more than is usual for a Monday afternoon. Some part of it, Ten is sure, has to be the weather - it’s unseasonably warm for February, the last dregs of the afternoon sun still out after a string of gloomy days.
More importantly, though - it’s fucking Valentine’s Day.
Johnny and Ten have never really celebrated Valentine’s Day in all the time they’ve been together. They tried to their first year as a couple - Johnny booked a nice restaurant and Ten had purchased some sex toys specially for the occasion. But the food, while delicious, had been way more expensive than either of them expected it to be, and they were so full from dinner that neither of them felt particularly up for sex that evening.
It had been a nice night, they both agreed, but certainly not anything particularly special. And anyways, both of their birthdays are in February; Ten likes a good celebration as much as the next person, but three big holidays in one month is a lot even for him.
So - Valentine’s Day. Not a big deal in the Suh-Lee household. Which is only a problem when Ten accidentally plans to propose to his boyfriend on the most cliché day of the year, apparently.
“That’s… a lot of people,” Johnny notes, grimacing at a particularly loud girl who happens to walk by their car. “Kind of defeats the purpose of avoiding the crowds. Do you still want to go?”
And isn’t that the million dollar question of the moment.
On the one hand, Johnny is right - this is way more people than Ten wanted around for his proposal. Also, again, it’s fucking Valentine’s Day, and Ten doesn’t want to be a walking cliché. His friends would never let him hear the end of it.
On the other hand - they’re already here. And Ten has already had one proposal plan go completely sideways, which he’s still kind of licking his wounds over. It would be nice to get a win, even if it’s not exactly in the way he envisioned.
“Yeah, I think we should,” Ten says finally, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening his door. He tries to imbue his voice with much more confidence than he’s actually feeling at the moment. “We’re already here. We can just try and find a less crowded space to walk around in.”
“Whatever you want, baby,” Johnny replies easily. Ten is already getting out of the car, so he can’t see his boyfriend’s face, but he can hear the smile in Johnny’s voice. “Though I may make you buy me a hot toddy first.”
Ten grins, walking around to Johnny’s side of the car to meet him as he gets out. “Whatever you want,” he echoes, lacing their gloved fingers together. “I’ll buy you funnel cake, too.”
Johnny chuckles as he locks their car, sliding the fob into his pocket. “How nice of you to buy your favorite boardwalk snack for me.”
“I’m a very generous person,” Ten says primly, swinging their arms as they walk. “Just you wait. I’ll show you.”
Johnny presses an indulgent kiss to the side of Ten’s head. “I’ll hold you to it.”
The line at the concession stand nearest to their parking spot is, surprisingly, not too busy, but that is where their luck ends. They wander for half an hour, staying warm with their hot toddies as the sun goes down, but everywhere they turn is just about packed with people -
Including, unfortunately, the spot along the beach that Ten had envisioned popping the question. What’s worse, when they walk by they find that the crowd has gathered in that particular spot to watch a woman propose to another woman who is, presumably, her girlfriend.
Lesbians, Ten thinks, showing the gays up yet again.
“Oh, wow!” Johnny says softly. He tucks his paper cup into the crook of his arm so he can clap as they watch the women crash into an embrace, kissing through their tears of joy. “Good for them! I mean, personally - there are so many people around, I can’t imagine -” he cuts himself off, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Ah - good for them.”
Ten had pretty much decided he wouldn’t be proposing tonight, but his heart sinks anyway. He knows what Johnny was going to say - something about how he couldn’t imagine being proposed to in front of this many people.
Ten isn’t sure why Johnny was so reluctant to finish his sentence - they love each other and they’ve talked about marriage; they both know that it’s a matter of when they’re going to tie the knot, not if. Was he just trying not to judge the other women’s choice of proposal? Or - oh, God, - does he suspect that Ten is up to something?
Whatever the reason, the weight of the ring box in Ten’s pocket suddenly feels a million times heavier. He needs to - he needs to not be watching these women cry happily over getting engaged, right now.
“Come on,” Ten says, nudging Johnny’s arm. “Let’s keep walking - let them have their moment.”
They wander through the crowds for another fifteen minutes or so before they finally stumble upon a bench that is, miraculously, unoccupied. They lose track of time sitting there and chatting as the last vestiges of sunlight disappear beyond the horizon.
Botched proposal plans or no, Ten really does love talking to Johnny, and it's easy to get lost in their meandering conversation. It’s not until a gust of wind blows through, making them both shiver, that they realize how long they’ve been chatting, standing up to toss their cups and head back to their car.
“Hey.” Johnny stops in the parking lot, tugging at Ten’s hand so that they’re facing each other. “I know this isn’t what you expected, but - I had fun tonight. I always love spending time with you.”
“You big sap,” Ten says, even as he feels his face heat. “It’s just a night out - we didn’t even do anything special.”
“I know, but still.” Johnny shrugs. “We don’t have to do something fancy or whatever to make a night out meaningful. Every day with you is special.”
From anyone else, the sentiment might sound trite or overdone. But Ten knows that Johnny is heart wrenchingly serious.
This, this is why Ten has been overthinking this whole proposal mess - he’s been trying so hard to do something romantic and still comes up short every time. But Johnny can just drop the most romantic bombs out of nowhere; can make Ten’s knees go weak in a fucking boardwalk parking lot on a Monday night. Ten is powerless to do anything but just stand there, staring up at the love of his life, basking in the soft smile on Johnny’s face.
“I love you,” Ten says. His voice is softer than he expects it to be, hoarse with emotion.
Johnny leans in to press a kiss to Ten’s forehead. “I love you, too,” he whispers. “More than anyone.”
Ten sighs, allowing himself to collapse into Johnny’s arms. He really, really needs to ask Johnny to marry him.
***
“Alright,” Ten says to himself. “Candles, check. Champagne, check. Johnny’s favorite chocolates - well, not check, because they were out, but I got his second favorite, which is close enough. So. Check.”
He runs his fingers through his hair, surveying their kitchen counter, where everything is spread out before him. There’s a lot of shit - Ten may have gone overboard in the post-Valentine’s Day grocery store sale aisle - but it still doesn’t seem like enough.
“I feel like I’m missing something. What am I missing?” He snaps his fingers, spinning around to face their kitchen table. “Hey, you - you’re supposed to be helping me. What am I missing?”
Louis doesn’t even flinch where he’s sprawled out over the table’s surface - he merely graces Ten with one long, slow blink before closing his eyes and continuing his nap.
Ten huffs. “Sleeping on the job, I see. How am I supposed to prepare this proposal all by my- oh fuck, the ring!”
It would be just his luck to go through all the hassle of preparing a proposal - again - only to forget the fucking ring. Christ. Thank goodness Johnny isn’t due home for another fifteen minutes. And thank goodness Ten has taken to keeping the ring on his person at all times.
He fishes the small velvet box from his pocket and holds it in front of him, considering how he might try and present it this time around.
For the first two proposals, he’d planned to go traditional - no gimmicks, just him and the ring, getting down on one knee in front of Johnny. Something in his gut is telling him not to go for that here, though. He eyes the Valentine’s Day detritus that’s taken over their kitchen. Well, he’s got the traditional romantic crap nailed down in the buildup to the proposal, he supposes. Maybe he should do something unusual for the question itself.
The idea hits him like a bolt of divine inspiration.
“Louis,” Ten says slowly, turning back to the kitchen table, “how would you like to help out after all?”
Louis must sense that Ten has something up his sleeve, somehow, because he’s immediately on high alert. He shifts from his slouching position, ears perked up and fully at attention.
Ten and Louis stare at each other for a few moments - the weirdest game of chicken that Ten has ever played. Then Ten moves, taking a half step towards the kitchen table, and Louis bolts.
“Louis!” Ten wails. He scrambles to stuff the ring box back in his pocket before taking off down the hallway after his cat son. Luckily his and Johnny’s apartment isn’t that big, so there aren’t that many places for Louis to hide, but it’s still a pain in Ten’s ass.
Ten crouches down to peer under their bed - as expected, Louis has holed himself up along the wall, eyeing Ten warily.
“Oh come on, come out here - please.” Ten spares a moment to be glad that no one is here to witness him groveling on the floor, begging his cat for attention. “I promise I’m not going to take you to the vet or anything. This is for your own happiness too!”
Unsurprisingly, Louis is not moved by his pleas. Ten sighs, thunking his forehead against the carpet in defeat.
“Looks like I’m going to pull out the big guns,” he mutters to the carpet. He tilts his head and looks back at Louis - to check and see if his wheedling will work without bribery - but the cat hasn’t moved an inch, loafing comfortably under the bed.
Johnny always tells Ten he’s a pushover, when it comes to Louis. Ten has to admit that he’s absolutely correct.
On the bright side, because he’s such a pushover he knows exactly what to do in situations like these. It’s only a matter of minutes before Ten has coaxed Louis out, luring him with his favorite crunchy treats. Louis sits patiently for Ten after that, licking his lips in satisfaction as Ten carefully affixes the ring to the loop on his collar with Louis’s ID tag.
“Ha! There,” Ten says, holding Louis up under the cat’s little front legs so he can admire his handiwork. “You look perfect.”
Louis, used to such manhandling (and with a belly full of treats), appears content to let Ten look his fill.
This is it, Ten thinks to himself as he stares at where the simple gold band rests against the fur on Louis’s chest. This is the one - the proposal that’s actually going to work. He has a good feeling about this one.
Not that he had a bad feeling about the other two tries, but, well. Something feels different about this attempt. In a good way.
Ten and Louis both jump at the sound of the key in the door - Johnny’s home.
“Okay, Louis.” Ten fixes his cat with a serious look. “Do not blow this for us.”
Louis merely gazes back at him, impassive. Somehow Ten doesn’t think he’s taking this seriously.
Then there's the sound of their door opening. “Ten?”
Ten lets Louis go, watching him settle back down his spot on the kitchen counter, and takes a deep breath. It’s showtime.
He makes his way out of the kitchen and down the short hallway to their front door. When he sees Johnny toeing off his shoes, Ten affixes a smile to his face that he hopes doesn’t look panicked at all. It wouldn’t do for him to give up the game so soon.
“Hey John- umph!”
Ten is nearly bowled over by the force of Johnny’s sudden kiss, his boyfriend’s hands on his waist the only thing keeping him from toppling over.
“Oh my god,” Johnny says, releasing a breath as he pulls away. He doesn’t go far, though - Ten can feel Johnny’s breath on his cheek, and his grip hasn’t released in the slightest. “I needed that so badly.”
“Johnny?” Ten reaches up and cups a gentle hand around the side of Johnny’s neck, his thumb brushing Johnny’s jaw. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
Johnny shakes his head, squeezing Ten more tightly. “Nothing. At least, nothing in particular.”
He leans back so that he can look Ten in the eye. Now that Ten can take in his face, Johnny looks exhausted - his eyes are tight with stress and fatigue, and his normally luscious hair is flopped against his forehead, like it’s also given up on the day.
“Just - one of those days, you know?” he finishes after a moment.
Ten hums in sympathy, using the hand on Johnny’s neck to guide him in for a kiss. Johnny’s kiss had been a release of pent-up frustration and energy. Ten makes this kiss much softer - it’s meant to be a caress, a comfort; his attempt to tell Johnny that whatever he’d been through that day he’s in safe hands now.
It seems to work - Johnny relaxes in increments, melting into their embrace so that it’s mostly Ten who’s keeping them upright.
“Oof,” Ten murmurs a few moments later, when Johnny finally lets him go. He scratches at the back of Johnny’s neck lightly. “As much as I love this, you’re about to fall over, and I’m not nearly strong enough to drag you back to our bed.”
Johnny huffs out a laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a small smile. He still looks tired, but he doesn’t look quite so haggard, at least.
“That sounds nice,” he says, nuzzling into Ten’s touch. Ten has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from cooing over his boyfriend - he’s so cute when he’s pliant, like a big cat in Ten’s arms.
Thinking of cats reminds him - oh, shit - Louis is just sitting around their kitchen with a ring on his collar.
“Ten?” Johnny has a crease between his eyebrows now, frowning in response to whatever expression Ten has on his face.
It’s not that Ten means to look... however he looks, right now - disappointed or frustrated or whatever. It’s just that he’d been so determined, this time, to ask Johnny to marry him no matter how the night panned out. Third time's the charm, right? Or at least it was supposed to be.
Ten reaches up with his other hand to brush at the shadows under Johnny’s eyes. There’s no way Ten can spring that question on him tonight. Not when he’s feeling so run down from his day.
Well. At least Ten tried.
“Nothing, baby,” Ten says softly. He presses a soft, chaste kiss to Johnny’s lips in reassurance. “What do you need, hmm? How can I take care of you?”
Johnny sighs. “Let’s just go to bed.”
“Oh? Bed?” Ten can’t resist waggling his eyebrows, knowing it will get Johnny to laugh.
“Not - Ten,” Johnny says helplessly. “Not for that. Not tonight anyway. I just - want you to hold me.”
Ten’s heart is a puddle of goo. God. His boyfriend is so goddamn sweet.
“Of course.” He gently extricates himself from Johnny’s hold, pushing him towards their bedroom - which is, luckily, in the opposite direction of the kitchen. “Go wait for me in bed - I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’ll warm up that heating pad you like, yeah?”
Johnny hums in agreement, lumbering down the hallway. Ten watches him for a moment before turning around and heading back into the kitchen.
He pops the heating pad in the microwave and cleans up all of the candles and chocolates and champagne he’d set out. He’s not sure how he’ll explain it to Johnny, when his boyfriend inevitably finds everything stashed away - that’s a problem for future Ten.
Once the counters are cleaned off, though, he has one more item to put away.
Mercifully, Louis doesn’t run from him this time - just waits patiently for Ten to rearrange his limbs to get to his collar, tail twitching lazily as Ten works the ring off of the loop.
Ten didn’t have a problem putting the Valentine’s paraphernalia away, but for some reason having to tuck the ring back into the box and slip the box into his pocket puts a lump in his throat.
“Next time, huh, buddy?” Ten whispers to Louis, scratching under his chin. Louis leans into the touch just like Johnny had earlier, purring in contentment.
A few minutes of cat cuddles take the sting out of the disappointment - at least, enough that when Ten slides into their bed, maneuvering Johnny so that he can wrap the heating pad around Johnny’s shoulders, he feels mostly steady. He really had hoped to get the proposal taken care of this evening. But it’s hard to feel too disappointed about the direction the night has taken when he’s got the warm line of Johnny’s body pressed along his side, Johnny’s head resting on his chest.
As listens to Johnny’s breathing even out, humming along to the pop song he’s got stuck in his head, Ten starts considering his next proposal plan. He’s too tired to think of anything concrete, but he does know this: next time it really has to happen, whether or not everything plays out exactly as he envisions.
Ten twines his fingers through the hand Johnny’s got splayed on his chest, bringing it up so he can press a soft kiss to the third knuckle. He loves that Johnny trusts Ten to be a source of comfort - clearly he’s happy with their relationship just as it is, for all Ten’s anxieties.
But Ten sure would feel a lot more settled comforting Johnny as his husband.
***
When Ten wakes the next morning, he’s alone in bed. He can hear the buzz of Johnny’s razor coming from their en-suite bathroom, along with the faint sound of whatever music Johnny is playing on his phone while he gets ready.
Ten isn’t too surprised to find himself in an empty bed - while he prefers to wake up wrapped around Johnny (or vice versa), Johnny’s office job means that he has to wake up much earlier than Ten, who just has to roll out of bed and stumble to his desk by 9 am.
Ten squints at the alarm clock that Johnny keeps on his nightstand - it’s 7:30 am, which is far too early for his day to be starting. But the fact that Johnny is already out of bed is a good sign. He must be feeling better, the dregs of whatever exhaustion he’d been suffering through last night washed away with a full night’s sleep.
Ten rolls onto his back and scrubs at his face. That makes one of them. He’s woken up stressed out by the fact that he still has to come up with a whole new proposal strategy.
Even though Ten normally wouldn’t be awake for another hour, he doesn’t really feel like going back to sleep. His brain is already starting to cycle through what shenanigans he can plan next (Recruit another friend to help? Expensive dinner date? Spell the question in alphabet soup?), and there’s no sense in trying to get it to shut up, at this point.
He swings his legs over the edge of the mattress, stretches, and gives Louis a scratch where he’s curled up at the foot of the bed. Since he’s up he might as well make Johnny’s coffee for him - maybe Johnny would even appreciate a full breakfast, if he still has time before he has to leave? Ten’s not a whiz in the kitchen or anything, but he could probably whip up some scrambled eggs, if Johnny wanted some.
Hah - maybe he should just tuck the ring into the eggs. That would certainly be a proposal to remember.
Ten is still chuckling to himself about harebrained proposal ideas when he walks into the bathroom.
Johnny is brushing his teeth, his hair sticking up on the side he’d slept on, and he’s got a bit of toothpaste dribbling out the corner of his mouth. Clearly Johnny has only recently rolled out of bed - he’s still clad in his sleep shorts as he wiggles his narrow hips to the beat of the song coming through his phone’s speakers, his tattoos flexing with the movement of his body.
He doesn’t hear Ten come in, caught up in the pocket of happiness he’s created in his morning routine - and good thing, too, because Ten finds himself arrested by the sight.
They’ve been living together for a few years now, so the sight in front Ten isn’t unusual. It certainly shouldn’t take his breath away. And yet here Ten is, his heart in his throat as he watches Johnny, the man he loves, in all his unrestrained joy.
But maybe the fact that it’s unusual is why it’s taking his breath away. It’s just - it hits him, in that moment, that Ten could have this for the rest of his life, if he wants it.
He does. He wants it so badly.
He has to ask.
Johnny finally sees Ten over his shoulder through the bathroom mirror, startling and fumbling to pause his music.
“Ah, good morning, babe!” He hasn’t taken the toothbrush out of his mouth, his words garbled as he tries to talk around it. He looks ridiculous. Ten loves him so much. “Did I wake you? Sorry, I just -”
“Will you marry me?”
Ten’s brain catches up with his mouth a half second too late to stop himself. Johnny’s eyes go wide, his toothbrush slipping out of his grip to clatter on the bathroom counter.
“I -” Johnny leans over to spit the toothpaste out into the sink, then turns to face Ten. “I’m - what?”
Oh, shit, the ring. The ring. Ten keeps his eyes on Johnny and he fumbles at his hip before he remembers that he’s still in the boxers he wore to sleep - of course this is the one time in the last month he doesn’t have it on his person.
“Uh - wait here,” he says, and then he dashes through the door, leaving Johnny standing dumbfounded under the shitty fluorescent lights of their bathroom.
This is a complete disaster, he thinks to himself miserably, scrambling through his sock drawer until he finds the velvet box he’d tucked in the corner before he went to sleep last night. Well, even if it is a disaster, it’s too late to go back now - all that stress and planning, and the question just slipped out on a random Tuesday morning. He can only hope that Johnny hasn’t gone running for the hills, away from his incompetent boyfriend.
Lucky for Ten, Johnny does no such thing - he’s still frozen in shock exactly where Ten left him, actually, like an NPC in a paused video game. Ten swallows, hesitating only a moment before holding the box out, lifting the lid to show Johnny what’s inside.
Johnny’s eyes, impossibly, go even wider.
Ten takes a deep breath. It’s now or never.
“Johnny,” he starts, ignoring the trembling he hears in his own voice. He had a whole speech planned, the first three times he’d tried this, but everything he’d planned to say is completely escaping him at the moment, so he’s forced to go on instinct alone. He clears his throat.
“I - I love you, so much, and you’ve made me so happy. I know this is a weird time to ask you this, but I’ve been - fuck, I’ve been trying to think of how to do this for, like, a month, but nothing’s worked, and I just - I couldn’t wait anymore, I had to -”
“Ten.”
Ten snaps his mouth shut. He’d gone into some sort of fugue state in his rambling - now that he’s paying attention again he can see that Johnny, though still a little shell-shocked, is looking at him with clear amusement in his eyes.
“Yeah?” Ten says, a little helplessly.
Johnny gives him a small smile. “Ask me the question again.”
Ten swallows heavily. “Johnny, will you - will you marry me?”
The question is hardly past his lips before Johnny is sweeping him up into a crushing kiss. Johnny hasn’t rinsed out his mouth and he tastes like toothpaste, which is kind of gross, and Ten’s arms are crushed awkwardly between their bodies in a way that will become painful in a few more minutes.
It’s the most perfect kiss Ten has ever experienced.
Johnny leans back with a gasp, panting as he presses their foreheads together.
“Yes,” he whispers. “Yes, of course yes.”
Ten’s breath hitches. “Really?”
“Of course,” Johnny repeats. He pulls away to grin at Ten, his smile wide and unrestrained. “Ten - I love you. How could I say anything else?”
Ten knew that Johnny would say yes - had been banking on it, in fact - but he feels a rush of elation anyway.
“Thank God,” Ten says with a watery chuckle. “Then can I please give you your ring already? I’ve been carrying this thing around with me for so long.”
Johnny laughs, incredulous, as he dutifully presents his hand. Something settles in Ten’s chest as he watches the ring slide over Johnny’s knuckles; weeks of pent-up anxiety easing when it’s finally nestled at the base of his ring finger.
They both spend a few moments admiring it before Ten can’t hold back anymore, standing up on his toes to press his lips to Johnny’s.
“I can’t believe you,” Johnny says when Ten finally lets them both up for air. “You’ve had this for a month? What took you so long?”
Ten groans, burying his face in Johnny’s chest so that his boyfriend can’t see his cheeks flame in embarrassment. “Ugh, I know. I was trying to plan the perfect proposal, but I kept fucking it up. It was this whole thing.”
“And after all that you end up asking me in the bathroom,” Johnny teases. “Hey - wait a second! Is that what you were trying to do with all these dates recently?”
Ten tilts his head to pout up at Johnny. “Yes. First I was going to make you a latte heart, but apparently that’s the one type of art I can’t do to save my life, and then I was going to ask you at the boardwalk, but we were thwarted by Valentine’s Day. And then last night - you were just so tired, I didn’t want to spring this on you, too.”
“Last night?” Johnny frowns. “What we were supposed to do last night.”
“I had a bunch of cheesy romantic stuff that I was going to surprise you with. There was champagne and chocolates and everything.” Ten bites his lip, hesitant. “I - I put the ring on Louis’s collar.”
“Oh my god,” Johnny laughs, unrepentant when Ten swats at his chest. “You’re so basic. I love you so much.”
“You’re the worst,” Ten insists, even as he feels himself grin. “Who are you calling basic? I changed my mind; give me the ring.”
“Nope!” Johnny says cheerfully, pressing a sloppy kiss to Ten’s cheek. “No take-backs. I’m yours forever now, baby.”
Ten’s grin settles into something softer. He twines his arms around Johnny’s neck, pressing the length of their bodies together.
“Forever,” he echoes. “Forever’s alright with me.”