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Kenshi wants nothing more than to sleep peacefully. After a long day at work and finally having a weekend off, he just wants to relax.
Johnny, however, makes that impossible.
Johnny’s bed is large and comfortable — king sized and the sheets being made from silk — but they always end up tangled within each other’s limbs, leaving Kenshi victim to Johnny’s habit of kicking his legs while sleeping.
Kenshi can’t find it in himself to be mad. In fact, it is times like these that Kenshi wishes he could see. He’s learnt to not feel resentful, but sometimes he does miss it. He wishes he could admire Johnny, but he has to work with his imagination. He relies on his sense of touch.
Kenshi gently places a hand to Johnny’s chest, it’s bare and warm. His fingertips against Johnny’s skin are light. He can visualise Johnny’s skin being stark against their white silk sheets, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and otherwise askew. One arm under his pillow and the other holding Kenshi close. Kenshi knows that last part is real. He can feel it.
Kenshi’s hand trails from Johnny’s chest to his shoulders, down his arms and stops at his hand. Turns out Johnny’s free hand isn’t under a pillow, but rather laying limp at his side. Kenshi’s thumb delicately traces over Johnny’s hand, back and forth. He feels himself smile and softly squeeze the actor’s hand.
God, Kenshi really wants to marry him.
He’s never considered marriage even being in the cards for him, not until he met Johnny. He always thought his life would be dedicated to saving his family, meaning he wouldn’t even have time to meet someone he could possibly marry. Coincidentally, it was his business in freeing his family that brought him to Johnny. Now he looks at Johnny and feels it in his heart; he wants to spend the rest of his life like this, no matter how unconventional they already may seem.
Kenshi doesn’t care that he’s an ex-yakuza or that Johnny is one of the world’s most known actors or that they’ve somehow managed to come together. He’s used to living in the shadows, remaining invisible, but being with Johnny means being seen. This bothered Kenshi in the first few months after their relationship went public, but now he doesn’t care. Now he wants to make Johnny Cage — Jonathan Carlton — his husband.
It’s the middle of the night and Kenshi wants to make Johnny his husband.
He feels the sheets rustle and hears a quiet groan, coming back to reality with the burning of Johnny’s eyes staring at his face.
“I know it is not morning, Ken,” Johnny grumbles, drawing his shoulders back to stretch them. Johnny’s hand pulls back from being draped over Kenshi’s shoulder and the swordsman frowns. “Get back to sleep.”
Kenshi almost lets it slip. Marry me. I want to be yours until death do us part. He keeps his composure. “I can’t,” he says instead. His thumb presses down on Johnny’s wrist.
Johnny hums, scratching at his stubble. He shuffles closer, Kenshi can feel the proximity. It takes everything in him not to swallow Johnny’s words in a kiss. His jaw goes slack when Johnny’s hand presses at his cheek.
“What’s on your mind?” Johnny asks roughly. He gets the idea that he won’t be getting back to sleep and he clears his throat. Kenshi smiles.
“I want to get married,” Kenshi responds. It’s not rushed or panicked, like how Kenshi thought he would accidentally blurt it out. His voice is calm and reassured.
“You’re serious?” Johnny asks, not condescendingly. He asks more so out of disbelief. Kenshi can’t blame him, the confession has seemingly come out of nowhere.
“Of course,” Kenshi whispers thick with emotion.
He can’t say much else before Johnny draws him closer for a kiss. It’s passionate and a little too aggressive for what the situation calls for. Kenshi doesn’t mind, it leaves his mind reeling when they pull apart, their lips only inches from meeting again.
Johnny presses one final kiss to Kenshi’s lips before he settles back down, his eyes already drooping closed again. “Too early,” he mumbles. He wraps an arm around Kenshi again, like he thinks Kenshi is also about to go back to sleep, and closes his eyes.
Kenshi knows he won’t be able to sleep until he hears a solid answer from Johnny. Realistically, he knows the answer — he thinks — but he needs to hear it from Johnny himself. He won’t know what to do with himself if they both fall back asleep and never bring this conversation up again.
“But you will marry me?” Kenshi pushes, his voice sounding uncharacteristically small. “I don’t care when, just… eventually?”
“Ken,” Johnny groans, burying his face into the space between Kenshi’s shoulder and his neck. His voice is rough with sleep and Kenshi finds it unbearably attractive. “Please go to sleep.”
“Johnny,” Kenshi mocks, earning an unnecessary bite on his shoulder for disturbing Johnny’s sleep.
“Ask me again in the morning,” Johnny mumbles, turning his head so his mouth is pressing at Kenshi’s neck. His voice is growing quieter with every word. “I need my beauty sleep.”
Kenshi frowns, he’ll heavily object to it being called a pout, as his hands reach for Johnny’s hair. He can feel Johnny shiver when his fingers brush against the strands running down his neck.
“Johnny,” Kenshi repeats, this time practically a whine. His fingers thread through Johnny’s hair, front to back, making the brunette let out a huff. “Marry me, Johnny.”
“Darling, you already know that I will,” Johnny relents, his eyes rolling playfully. Though, his voice is sincere. “Of course I’ll marry you. Will you let me sleep now?”
“Mhm,” Kenshi hums contently, feeling as though a weight has been lifted off of him. A small fizzle of excitement settles in Kenshi’s stomach.
They’re getting married. They’re going to be husbands. They’re fiancés.
He knows Johnny wants to sleep, but he presses a kiss to the side of Johnny’s head. At the action, Johnny only tries to hide his face further in Kenshi’s skin. They’re getting married! Kenshi doesn’t know how Johnny isn’t sharing his excitement.
“Aren’t you excited?” Kenshi whispers, unable to let the conversation go. Just because he wants to say the fact outloud, he tacks on, “We’re getting married.”
“Yeah, Ken, I know,” Johnny tells him, his voice sleepy. “You and I both know I’d be jumping off the walls any other time, but it’s well into the night. Go to sleep.”
“How can I sleep?” Kenshi asks rhetorically. If Johnny weren’t so tired he’d be taken aback by how soft Kenshi was being. “We’re going to be husbands.”
“Yeah, that does tend to happen when people get married,” Johnny mutters sarcastically. It earns him a small pinch from Kenshi, and he lets out a small ‘ow’ in response.
They settle into silence. Kenshi takes the moment to think over everything that has just happened. It almost seems surreal, he wonders for a moment if he’s dreaming. He concludes that he’s not dreaming when he pinches Johnny for a second time and is met with a small, irritated nudge.
He also realises how informal his proposal has been. There’s no ring, and now all Kenshi can feel about is how the cold metal band would feel around Johnny’s finger.
“Do you want a ring?”
Johnny groans, his eyes opening again. He lifts his head and just stares at Kenshi.
“What do you take me for, Takahashi?” Johnny asks in a feigned irritated tone. Before Kenshi can respond, Johnny shuts him up with a kiss. When they break apart, Johnny continues. “Obviously I want a ring.”
Kenshi grins. He doesn’t care how snippy Johnny is with him now because they’re getting married.
“Have you got it all out of your system?” Johnny questions and Kenshi nods. Johnny settles back down. “We have nowhere to be tomorrow so I expected an undisturbed night's sleep and waking up to my boyfriend in bed next to me for the first time in weeks. Can I have that now?”
“Fiancé,” Kenshi corrects in a barely audible whisper.
Johnny laughs. “My fiancé,” he corrects, pressing a kiss to Kenshi’s jaw.
Kenshi sees that as the perfect note to end the conversation on. He finally allows himself to give into the urge of sleep. Until the silence is broken again. Not by Kenshi this time.
“A ring with a diamond,” Johnny says. It’s not a request, it’s a demand. Kenshi is used to this.
“Of course, Johnny.”
“Like, a big diamond. Really fuckin’ obnoxious.”
“Only the best for you, dear.”
“Soon,” Johnny concludes. “I want it as soon as possible.”
“Tomorrow,” Kenshi decides. He feels Johnny smile. “You’ll have it tomorrow.”