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John took an impatient bite of his Chicken Paramsean and adjusted his tie. He and his roommate, Dave, were just an exchanged glance away from the start of their yearly Valentine’s Day traditions here at… whatever this restaurant was called. Something Italian, he couldn’t remember. The location had been Dave’s choice. Somewhere classy, he’d say, so that even if it backfires, it was still a better night out than we usually go for.
Figuring it was about time, John gave him the look, and could tell that, even under his shades, Dave saw it. A quick and subtle rock-paper-scissors claimed the blonde as its victor. He was the lucky one to pop the question this time.
Dave stood up.
He cleared his throat.
“Hey, if y’all could quiet down a sec? I got some things to tell my boyfriend if ya don’t mind.” Ooh he’d let out a tiny bit of his Texan twang, a nice touch. People always ate that up. John gave a nervous giggle, and darted his eyes around the room as it quieted.
“John Egbert, you are the Starbucks of my mornings, you are the bass drop in my dubstep. The rock,” he continued, picking up a bun from your breadbasket, “to my roll.” The crowd murmurs. Well done, indeed, Strider, you are sure to get those taken off your tab as a congratulations for your touching engagement. …As well as your entire tab, if all went well.
He feigned surprise and confusion. Whaaat? My boyfriend’s saying nice things to me in a nice restaurant? What could that mean?
“I know it hasn’t always been easy…” It was true, when they’d first met, their freshman year of college, they couldn’t stand each other. John whined too much, Dave played his music too loud, John got up to early, Dave stayed up too late, etc. etc. “…but we worked through it, and here we are, after all these years.”
“When I met you, I was a different person. College, right?” The patrons of the room all gave a polite laugh. “I… was scared and alone and someone who I didn’t want to be.” It was a serious moment, this one based on actual truth, but John had never been able to tell at the time. Dave had seemed to shit confidence, and was always out, presumably with friends, and his 100% not-gay roommate couldn’t help but find the easy-going coolkid strangely compelling.
“And without knowing it, you made me want to change that, and made me think I could. College went by, and I got to watch as you went from my dorky, goofball roommate to…” He paused a moment, as if lost in thought. “My dorky goofball roommate with better taste in movies.” John chuckled at that. It of course, wasn’t the only way John had changed, but the only it was polite to say in front of a room full of impressionable strangers. He’d gotten taller, a bit less aloof, and… how could Dave put it?
Hot. John got hot.
Finally his baby fat had faded melted away, and he walked with a bit more confidence in his step. This, combined with the fact that John put up with him, genuinely liked him, in fact, made for feelings, far too many of them for Dave’s liking.
“Then we moved in together,” present-day Dave, who had long since accepted those feelings, continued, “as friends, of course, and I couldn’t deny how you made me feel anymore.” It was barely half the size of their entire dorm, but it was theirs, not theirs and some asshole roommates’, but theirs¸ and it was the first time either one truly felt “grown up”, even if it mostly meant the freedom to walk around in their underwear and order takeout just because neither wanted to do the dishes.
“I knew even then, I think, that I wanted to be with you ‘till the end, whatever that meant. I didn’t know where I wanted to go, but I wanted you there with me, y’know?” And about three months into owning their apartment came a chance to show that, even if neither remembered it after the fact. It was one night, very drunken adrenaline-fueled night right after midterms. They would still argue over whether Dave mistakenly crawled into John’s bed or John into Dave’s but they found themselves in someone’s bed, content and warm and feeling like they could conquer the world. Their lips met, and they moved together clumsily as they tossed their clothes to the floor, forgotten. They tried not to speak about it the next day.
“Which is why,” he continued, “when you said you loved me, I realized I might never have to go back to being alone, and it was more than I ever thought I’d get with someone.” It was more, honestly, than either of them thought it would be. They’d expected it to be just like their friendship ,but with considerably more make-outs, and for the most part it was, but it was also undeniably something deeper, a pull, a communal importance to one another that they hadn’t had before, hadn’t thought was very “them”, but all the sudden it meant everything.
“I don’t know where I’d be if I didn’t have you, and… somehow, we’ve made it this far, and I want to face whatever comes next with you, so, it bein’ Valentine’s Day and all, I wanna know, will you marry me?”
He put his hand over his heart, allowing tears to fall at just the right angle down his face. After that a nod, but not too vigorous, slow it down, Egbert. “Of course!” he squeaked, jumping out of the chair with just enough zeal. “Of course.” Dave rose to his feet, sloppy grin on his face, and they kissed, the most genuine thing they’d done all night, as the room swelled with applause around them. Congratulations and well-wishes were offered as they hugged, warm in the other’s embrace, and they nodded and thanked and shook hands with those at the tables around them before things slowly settled back down to normalcy.
They finished up their dessert, an apple pie for Dave, a custard for John, and tensed a bit as their waiter came over for what hopefully would be the last time. The entire night rode on this. At the sight of him, both men reached to pull out their wallets, even going so far as to exchange a few no, allow me glances.
“Oh, that’s not necessary, gentlemen!” he promised, waving their money away. “The manager sends his congratulations.”
Now for a gasp, a flattered hand over the chest that showed just how kind that was. “Thank you so much! Are you sure?”
Their waiter maintained that yes he was sure, and wished them well before they headed out into the chilly February evening. The car ride back to their apartment was quiet, with both being too tired and way too full to do much more chatting. Some weird band Dave liked played on the stereo and for once John didn’t complain, mostly because he was drifting off, only jolting awake whenever they hit a pothole or took a turn a little too fast.
During one such jolt, he took a minute to look around, remembering where he was, who he was with, and what they had just done.
“That was fun,” he giggled warmly, determined this time to stay awake for more than a few seconds.
“Yeah… And you know what else is fun? Making rent this month.”
John nodded vigorously. A lot had changed in the two years they’d been pulling this scheme, but one thing that hadn’t was that they were both broke as shit. It was why they’d come up with it in the first place, but even though it may not have been born out of love or devotion, they considered it just as valid a Valentine’s Tradition as any, and there was nothing else that was so utterly them. It was a night out, a free meal nicer than either of them could swing on minimum wage, and a chance to say every romantic nothing they wouldn’t dream of under normal circumstances. As a couple, they were more ‘show’ than ‘tell’, and both were completely fine with that. Still, it was nice to hear the schmaltzy “I love you forever”s and the truth that hid behind them every once in awhile.
He lazily reached his hand out to rest it on Dave’s, and they smiled at each other, tired tiny smiles that wouldn’t leave their faces for the rest of the night.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dave.”
Dave gave his hand a squeeze.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, John.”