Work Text:
Gerard Keay-Delano had been thinking about the best way to propose to one Timothy Stoker for three months now. He'd made and subsequently scrapped seventeen plans. He had no idea of how he wanted to go about it.
At first, he'd wanted to do a public proposal. Tim liked that sort of thing. He liked being the center of attention. Gerry had planned a few of them but never acted on any of them when he realized the idea of being that openly emotionally vulnerable in public made his skin crawl. He didn't care what other people thought of him, but suddenly everything was different at the thought of being down on one knee in front of people.
Then there was the chance that Tim would turn him down. He didn't think that would happen, but there was enough of a chance to make his stomach hurt when he thought about it for too long.
So!
A private proposal it would be.
But if it was private, there should probably still be some grand romantic gesture. He'd been trying his best to put together something meaningful but none of his plans could ever synchronize. Something always went wrong or something was always missing— flowers and dinner reservations and both of them getting to the restaurant without any catastrophes popping up and the romantic moment being right.
It was harder than Gerry could ever have anticipated.
The time he'd gotten closest had been just last week. He and Tim had gone on a bookstore tour date. They'd gone to all of their favorite bookstores and spent hours pouring over books, chasing each other down around the stacks and shelves to show each other something they might like. They spent altogether too much on books and kissed in every tucked away little corner or alcove they could find. They got lunch at a kebabs truck before they started and finished with dinner at Tim's favorite pub near his house he shared with his brother.
And that of course, was where Gerry fucked up.
The moment was finally right.
It had been an amazing day. Nothing had gone wrong. Nobody had gotten sideswiped by an angry taxi driver when they were trying to cross the street, nobody had gotten on the wrong bus, nobody had needed to stage an impromptu rescue from the Vast, nobody had slipped and fallen down three flights of stairs and needed to be taken to A&E. Everything was going amazingly. They'd had a lovely time feeding each other bits of meat and veg as they leaned against a rail over the Thames and prowling around their favorite book shops. Now they were sitting together in a dimly lit booth, feet tangled together under the table.
They'd split one of the pub's massive shepherd's pies and had a few beers each between them and now they were just sitting quietly, enjoying each other's company.
Gerry checked his pocket again. He still had the ring box. Alright. It was go time.
“Hey Tim?”
“Yeah babe?” Tim finished his beer and set his empty cup down at the end of the table and turned his full attention on Gerry.
“I've been meaning to ask you something.” Gerry took his hand and was momentarily distracted by imagining how his ring would look on Tim's finger.
“Yeah?” Tim tilted his head and smiled. It was like sunshine, warming him up from the inside out.
Gerry couldn't not return that smile. “Yeah. I was wondering--” He discreetly slipped the ring box out of his pocket.
“Tim!” They were interrupted by a cheerful bellow and then Danny was practically tackling Tim as he piled into the booth with him. Then there were more people gathering around their table, all chattering and so excited to meet Danny's older brother, oh my gosh, you look so alike! Are you twins? You've gotta be twins!
Gerry had never hated Danny, but God above, did he hate him now. He shoved the ring box back in his pocket, hoping he was quick enough to escape notice.
No such luck. When he looked up, Danny was staring at him, looking petrified. Tim, by some miracle, hadn't noticed. He was introducing himself to Danny's small horde of friends with a broad smile and his usual warm handshake.
“I'm going to grab a smoke.” Gerry announced as he stood, shrugging on his leather jacket that held his smokes. He got through a cigarette and a half before Danny edged up to him, looking nervous.
Gerry didn't blame him. If he were still the same man as the one he was a cigarette ago, Gerry would have punched him.
“Sooo... You and Tim doing alright then?” He asked awkwardly, ducking around to stand on Gerry's other side when he realized he'd chosen to stand downwind of him.
“You could say that.” Gerry flicked his ash into the little river in the gutter. He watched the little chunk flow down the drain a few feet down from where they stood.
Danny rocked back on his heels and winced. “Yeah, um, I'm really sorry about that.” He apologized.
Gerry sighed and rubbed his temple. “It's fine. Asking him here was a stupid idea anyway.”
So that was attempt number eighteen.
Maybe nineteen would go better.
(It went worse.)
Number twenty. Maybe Gerry should take a break for a little while. Because whatever this one was going to be, it needed to be perfect. Tim deserved that. If he couldn’t give that to him…
He shoved the ring in the back of a drawer. At work. Where Tim couldn't find it. Probably. Having it on him all the time was making him tense. He was constantly reminded by it to try to make every moment perfect and it was exhausting.
So now it had been a week. Gerry was starting to plan attempt number twenty. This one would definitely work for sure. It had to.
Tim let himself into Gerry's office and Gerry startled. He almost went to cover his computer screen and then realized an empty google search page wasn't exactly incriminating.
“Hello darling!” Tim swanned around the desk, whipping a bouquet of flowers out from behind his back.
“Tim!” Gerry smiled and then Tim was leaning in and snogging him properly against the back of his chair, flowers pressed against his chest. A dazed “Well, hello.” was all he could manage when Tim pulled away.
“Let me take you out for the rest of the day?”
Gerry had almost had to go to A&E for stitches two days before when he'd interrupted a Hunt in progress. He could definitely blow off the rest of the workday. “Yeah. Absolutely.”
“Great!” Tim pulled him upright and led him out of his office. They paused momentarily so Gerry could shrug on his coat and grab his bag but then Tim was leading him out of the archives and out into London at eleven in the morning on a Thursday.
Gerry was more than happy to follow him wherever he led. It turned out where he led was to the art museum. They had a display on one of Gerry’s favorite painters and he filled up a few more pages in the ratty sketchbook that lived in the bottom of his bag. Tim saw the state of the poor thing and insisted on buying him a new one from the gift shop, complete with two new stickers to paste on it. Then they went and got fish n chips from their favorite stand and went and ate them in the park near Gerry's flat.
It was a rare day that the grass wasn’t damp so they made themselves at home in a nice grassy patch that was far enough from the path to be dog shit free.
“Finally!” Tim set down their drinks. As soon as he got a hand free, he swapped Gerry’s tartare sauce out for Tim’s mushy peas. “The husband always forgets we switch these.” He sighed.
“I know, but I’m starting to like just a bit of the tartare sauce under the peas where it runs, y’know?” Gerry made sure his flowers poking out of his bag weren’t getting crushed and then settled down properly on the grass. He poured the little cup of mushy peas into his newspaper cone of delicious grease and fish.
They ate like they were starved men, used to their mutual agreement regarding food. They could flirt and be sappy later when their food wasn’t getting cold. It had been a constant complaint from both of them when they’d first started dating. Now at least they could focus on anything besides mooning over each other. For a few minutes at a time, anyway.
“So!” Gerry crumpled up his newspaper after he’d finished sopping up all the pea bits from the bottom with the last little shell of fish batter. “Springing me from work, the art museum, fish n chips… What’s next?” he tilted his head curiously. Tim obviously had some sort of plan.
“Well, I was thinking we could grab gelato and then head to yours? I picked up that documentary you were telling me about and I figured we could watch that. I know you said you wanted to dye your hair again soon, we could do that if you want. I can get that spot in the back you always miss!” He grinned cheekily at Gerry and leaned in for a quick kiss. “I figured you needed a day off. You’ve been so stressed lately.” He added.
Gerry was floored. Tim had obviously gone out of his way to set up a nice day for him. A properly lovely afternoon, just for him, from his favorite person, who was smiling at him like he was the sun. If he wasn’t the sun, he certainly called it. The clouds shifted slightly to allow the sun to beam down on Tim like he was a painting and the sun was his personal highlighter. His eyes glowed gorgeous honey brown in the sun, warm and enveloping and endlessly sweet. Gerry was going to marry this man.
A bird swooped by and Tim twisted to track it. “Was that a bloody nightingale?” Tim perked up, scanning to try and see where it had gone.
It was the opportunity Gerry needed to go for the ring.
The ring that he’d definitely left in his desk drawer.
Shit.
Gerry had the perfect moment but no ring.
Fuck it.
Gerry was determined. No other moment would be this moment, and he wanted it to be this moment. He wanted to keep this moment and preserve it in amber so he could treasure it forever. It had to be now. He yanked the ring off his right ring finger and hurried to get his legs uncrossed and in a kneeling position. “Tim.” He said and was relieved to find his voice was clear and firm. He’d practiced this part but it was still sort of a toss-up on if he sounded faint or not.
Tim craned his neck. “Did you see it? Your eyes’re better than mine, was that a nightingale d’you think?”
Gerry snorted a bit. “Tim.” He said a bit louder.
“What?” Tim finally twisted back around and then froze when he saw Gerry on one knee. Not down, since Tim was still sitting, but the intent behind the pose was unmistakable. “Ger?”
Golden honey and a growing smile robbed him of thought for a moment. “Timothy Jordan Stoker,” He said once he’d refocused on the mission. He’d bloody practiced this. “I didn’t think it was possible to be this happy before I met you. I never thought I’d get to have this kind of happiness in life. Whether it’s hunting Leitners or picking up toothbrushes and tea, I want to do it with you. Will you marry me?” He asked. His smile grew as he spoke to match Tim’s, more confident with every word what the answer would be.
It was obvious on Tim’s face even before he kissed him.
Tim was on his knees now too, cupping his face and pressing their smiles together.
“I’m going to need a yes or a no, Tim.” Gerry’s words were rushed in between Tim peppering him with kisses.
“Yes!” Tim shouted in his face, shoving his hand in Gerry’s face until Gerry had slid his skull ring onto Tim’s left ring finger.
Gerry laughed, and dragged him down to the ground with him. “That ring’s only a loaner til we get back to the archives.” He couldn’t believe he didn’t have the damn ring.
“What? No!” Tim clutched his ring to his chest. “No way! You wouldn’t take away a lady’s engagement ring!” He sounded scandalized.
Gerry laughed again. “What, you’d rather that old thing than the ring I made you?”
Tim’s attention shifted immediately. “What? You made me a ring?” He asked, eyebrows arching.
“Mmhm.” Gerry nodded with a smile. “Designed it and smithed it. Had to outsource the gem cutting to someone else, but I did everything else.” He shrugged casually.
Next thing he knew, Tim was kissing him breathless. “Christ, you’re amazing.” Tim sighed when he drew back. Gerry hated how he could sound so composed when Gerry barely had enough brain capacity to breathe after that kiss. “Right, so! Back to the archives right now and then to get gelato and we are definitely stopping for champagne!”
Gerry licked his lips and blinked a few times. “Can we get–”
“Yes, we can get proper champagne from Champagne, France.” Tim interrupted him with a grin. “You’ve earned it.” He leaned in to kiss Gerry again and wow he was glad nobody else was around because that was a very appreciative hand on his ass now. “You’ve earned something else too.” He purred and whispered something in Gerry’s ear that made his face burn like he was facing off against a hot pizza oven.
“We can stop by my flat on the way to the archives.” Gerry managed.
“Nope!” Tim said cheerfully. “I want my other ring first.”
Gerry flopped back against the grass in defeat. He’d won the battle of popping the question but that action just cemented the war: dealing with Tim on the daily for the rest of eternity. God, it would be amazing, wouldn’t it? Two rings was a small price to pay for that gorgeous smile and it was barely a fraction of the worth of Tim’s warm, delighted laugh.
“I can’t wait to tell Sasha!” Tim leaned in to kiss him again.
“Yeah? Let’s go tell them right now.” He kissed Tim and reveled in the fact that he was going to get to do this every day for the rest of his life. He couldn’t wait. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
