Work Text:
"We're completely out?"
"Yes. This is a disaster."
"We don't have any? Did you check in the sofa cushions?"
"Yes."
"Alright, let me put something decent on and I'll go out."
"It's freezing out, don't be ridiculous. It's not that urgent."
"Baby, you just said it was a disaster."
"It's not the worst possible disaster."
"I'm going anyway. Look, I'm dressed, I have my … where are they … yes, my keys, and I'm going."
"…thank you."
"Be right back. I love you."
"Heh. Prove it."
"You want me to … prove I love you?"
"Yes."
"David, I don't know how I can—"
"Oh, no no no, I know, I was teasing … I know … I know you love me."
"Hey, hey, you're spiraling. Don't—"
"It’s hard. It’s hard for me to say that, to believe it. Or it was. But you make it easy, or you make it look easy. I was trying to make a joke, be a troll like you always do, and now I’m just adding the contents of more weird little boxes to your enormous hope chest of reasons David is too much work."
"You’re not too much work. I love every bit of figuring you out, because I open one weird little box and it’s full of such beautiful stuff."
"See, like that. Who says things like that. You’re impossible."
"But you love me."
"Yes, I do."
A pause.
A grin.
A wink.
"Prove it."