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Cullen stared at his reflection in his dresser mirror checking over his appearance for the tenth time — every time seeing something he didn’t like. He’d changed his shirt twice, his jacket three times (how many black and dark brown jackets does a man need, anyway?), and every time he changed he had to re-comb and straighten his hair. He started to straighten his tie and stopped … This tie? You can’t wear this tie, it looks like frogs spilled paint all over it. With a frustrated growl he loosened the tie and ripped it over his head. The top dresser drawer slammed open the same moment there was a rapid knock on the door.
“Did you get lost?” Alistair teased from the other side.
“In a minute!” Cullen replied and grabbed the dark blue paisley tie. Alistair loved paisley. He always said they looked like fat little...Cullen shook his head and chuckled.
He lifted the collar of his shirt, slid the tie around the back of his neck, and deftly worked it into the perfect knot with the perfect dimple at the base. Much better, he thought and tucked his collar back down.
One final look in the mirror, that was all. Just one, he told himself. That was a mistake. His eyes narrowed at a curl behind his ear sticking out in a defiant spiral. It must have snagged when he pulled the tie over his head. He grabbed the comb ready to tame it when he was interrupted by another knock on the door.
“I’m sure you look fine. We’re going to be late and I know how you hate being late.”
Late. No, they couldn’t be late! He had to call in three favors — two with people he didn’t even like — to get this reservation. Cullen glared at the insubordinate curl threatening to ruin his whole night. The curl could stay, he decided. It would make Alistair smile and that would be worth putting up with imperfect hair.
And he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life making Alistair smile. His hand reached down touching the small object in his pocket and his heart fluttered with excitement. After two previously failed attempts, this was finally going to happen. His sister going into labor ruined the first, and the second they ended up at the hospital with food poisoning. He almost took the failed attempts as a sign from the Maker that they weren’t meant to be together. But Cullen couldn’t imagine his life without him. Alistair had saved him in more ways than he could ever fathom. Cullen refused to imagine his life without him.
How did the saying go? Third time’s a charm?
He pulled the small velvet box from his pocket. He flipped open the lid revealing the silver band. Cullen had looked for months for the perfect ring, only to leave every jeweler’s disappointed. Eventually he decided to have it custom made. A design of his own creation: silver band with a thin, onyx strip wrapped around the middle and a beautiful ruby embedded in the center. It reminded Cullen of the rose Alistair gave him on their first date.
“Cullen?” The doorknob turned and Cullen snapped the box shut, shoving it into his pocked before Alistair came in the room. “Are you alright?” Alistair’s eyebrows drew together with worry.
“Oh I’m fine. It’s just…” Cullen sulked and pointed at the stubborn curl behind his ear.
“Weeellll, your curl is making us late.” Alistair said with a laugh. “I can find the scissors if you like.”
“I don’t want to be later than we already are,” Cullen pressed a quick kiss behind Alistair’s ear — invoking the expected low, throaty moan — as he exited the room.
The two men grabbed their coats from the front room and started out the door when Cullen stopped. Alistair’s tie was not only crooked, but the knot looked like toddler tied it. “Did no one teach you how to tie a tie before?” He scolded.
“Of course I know how to tie a tie! But I like it when you do it.”
“Hold on,” Cullen sighed. He laid his coat across the back of the sofa and reached for Alistair’s tie. Cullen’s expert fingers made quick work of undoing the awkward knot and re-tying it. He was almost done with a final adjustment when Alistair blurted out…
“Marry me.”
Cullen’s hands froze, his heart both stopping and thundering in his chest at the same time.
“What?” He asked, not sure if Alistair said it or if it slipped from his own mouth.
Alistair shifted from one foot to the other, heat bright across his cheeks. “I mean, will you…” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I had a plan, I promise. One that didn’t involve my abysmal tie tying skills. But I’ve thought of little else,” he dug deep into his trouser pocket and produced a small velvet covered box, “and I realized I don’t need a big fancy plan — just you.” The slight shaking of his hands made opening the box difficult.
Cullen’s lashes fluttered wildly as he stared at the silver band much like the one in his own pocket: silver, with an onyx band encircling the middle, but instead of a single ruby like the one in his pocket, this one had tiny ruby chips embedded along the top part of the band. He wanted to laugh. Was this happening? Was Alistair asking Cullen to marry him on the same night Cullen was planning on asking Alistair to marry him?
“So...I will take your silence as a no," Alistair started when Cullen didn't answer, "and I’ll just take the shattered pieces of my…” He looked down and closed the box.
“Alistair.” Cullen interrupted.
If Alistair didn’t need a plan, why should he? Cullen reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet covered box of his own. Alistair’s eyes grew wide when Cullen opened the box, showing a ring similar to the one in Alistair’s hand. A slow smile spread across Cullen’s face. Apparently the third time was a charm. “Marry me?”