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The apartment was unusually quiet, save for the faint hum of the ceiling fan.
Nate sat cross-legged on the wooden floor beside the couch, flipping absentmindedly through a magazine he hadn't actually read for the past 10 minutes.
Across from him, Damian crouched in front of an open drawer, muttering to himself as he searched through the mess inside.
“You seriously need to organize your stuff.” Nate murmured.
“I know where everything is."
Nate glanced at the pile of tangled cables spilling from the drawer. "Clearly.”
Damian held something out behind him without looking.
“Hold this for a sec."
Nate took it automatically, still watching Damian dig through the drawer.
"What are you even looking fo—"
Nate’s breath caught in his throat.
He stared at the velvet box in his hand.
"...Damian.”
“Mm?"
"Why do you have this?”
Damian finally looked over his shoulder.
The moment his eyes landed on the box, he froze.
Nate blinked at the box before looking at Damian.
“...Who’s it for?"
Damian stood up to face Nate.
He let out a short breath through his nose. “Who else?"
Nate looked at the box a little longer before raising his gaze back toward Damian.
"...You were really going to ask me?”
Damian looked away.
“Eventually."
“Eventually?"
"Preferably in a situation less humiliating than this.” Damian’s voice cracked on the last word.
Nate watched Damian’s hands tremble slightly.
“Then… ask me properly.”
“...Nate." Damian’s face flushed a familiar shade of red as he turned away. "Fuck you... I—I can't do this shit if you keep looking at me like that."
He gripped his cap tightly, shoulders tensing. “...I had a whole plan."
Nate’s fingers tightened around the box as he let out a short laugh. “You suck at this."
Damian swallowed hard. “I—Jesus Christ, Nate…” he approached Nate to sit beside him.
He reached over carefully, brushing his fingers against Nate’s hand where he held the box.
“I want to stay with you.” Damian whispered without looking at Nate.
“For as long as you’ll let me.”
“So… marry me.”
Nate smiled, though his eyes already burned. “Y-yeah." His voice trembled. “I'll marry you."
Damian let out a shaky laugh, covering his eyes with one hand. “Holy shit, Nate…”
“Stop fucking playing with me right now." Damian sniffled, wiping the tears with the back of his hand.
“I mean it." Nate said quietly.
Damian quickly leaned in closer, pulling Nate against him. "I-I love you so much.”
The hug was clumsy, awkward at first with the box still trapped between them—but neither of them cared enough to pull away.
"...Y-yeah. I love you too.” Nate buried his face against Damian’s shoulder, laughing quietly as Damian held him tighter.
Damian pulled away just enough to press a kiss on Nate’s forehead.
His gaze then dropped to the box still sitting in Nate’s hand.
Damian carefully took it from Nate’s hand before finally opening it properly.
The silver ring caught the light immediately. It held a small diamond that shimmered faintly under the ceiling fan.
He glanced up briefly. "Can I?”
Nate nodded.
Damian took the ring before settling the box on the ground beside him.
He gently took Nate's hand—far gentler than someone like him usually handled anything.
Damian slid the ring fully into place with unsteady hands.
He didn't let go right away.
Instead, he lifted Nate’s hand slowly and pressed his lips against his knuckles.
"I'll make sure you won't regret this.”