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"And... we're here!" Stephen exclaimed, stepping onto the top of the hill.
Well. Gray supposed he understood why the man seemed so excited for this outing. It was quite the sight.
They could see the city from here, all small, full of flickering lights—windows looked like fireflies from this distance, dancing on an orange-pink field painted by the setting sun.
Stephen set his backpack down, along with the picnic basket (he *insisted* on getting that one, saying that "it was essential for the vibe", whatever the "vibe" he was talking about was), and began unpacking.
They didn't even take much, since the climb here was long, and it was already late, but they had a blanket, some water and a lot of snacks. Gray tried to resist the latter, saying they're not healthy and that Stephen shouldn't be eating sugar this late anyway, but, again, his partner insisted, with that same "vibe" excuse. Gray still didn't know what it meant.
As he did that, Gray let their dog free off the leash. There weren't any people around, and she was used to running free during walks. They just had to guard the cookies in case she tried to steal them (another reason Gray thought they were a bad idea).
When they finally sat down on the blanket, Stephen's first instinct was to open the pretzels. Gray sighed.
The second thing he did was, fortunately for him, to wrap an arm around Gray's waist and drag him closer, until they were pressed side-by-side to each other, watching the sun set above them.
They kept sneaking glances to check whether their dog wasn't currently eating shit, or worse, their pretzels—they had salt on them—but mostly, they simply spent half an hour sat there, sharing each-other's warmth in the chill of the late summer night. They didn't exchange many words, most of them occasionally pointing out something peculiar in the distance, or the one time the dog *did* find something she deemed *unbelievably tasty* (it was tree bark).
By the time they decided to pack up and go back, Stephen had eaten half the bag of pretzels and three large cookies, and also forced Gray to eat at least two. By the time they picked everything up, it was completely dark, and they had to walk back lighting their way with Gray's phone—Stephen's died halfway though, his fault for forgetting to charge it prior to leaving.
By the time they closed their house's front door behind them, it was nearing ten in the evening, as evident by their dog flopping down onto their bed with her large body—right on Stephen's side of the bed.
They showered and brushed their teeth, barely remembering to unpack everything (Gray's foresight, knowing Stephen would let it sit in the entryway for a week).
When they lay down on the bed, both on Gray's side, with Stephen wrapping his arms around Gray from behind, they both sighed comfortably. Long gone behind either of them were the days of uncertainty and pain; they now had a home of their own, a dog they called their child, a shared bank account, and promise rings on their hands.
They were happy.