Work Text:
Asa Fell and Anthony Crowley had lived together over two years now, so dinner dates out of the house had gotten a bit rarer. They did maintain their Saturday outings: their chance to dress up a bit nicer, spoil a flock of ducks with frozen peas, or see that exhibition of illuminated manuscripts.
On one such date, on October the twenty-first, they set out for a picnic. It was a rather chilly day, but clear, but their arms were linked as they approached the bandstand. They didn’t speak much on this day, they didn’t need to. The birdsong was enough, and Anthony was certainly too fidgety to really carry a conversation now, anyway.
Asa busied himself with the picnic basket and began arranging their things, but turned when Anthony tapped on his shoulder and cleared his throat. And oh, there he was, this lithe, gorgeous man on one knee, golden ring in his hand, a stuttered speech beginning.
“Asa Raphael Fell, I love you so much, and it feels like I’ve known you for six thousand years instead of three, but we’re already a perfect group of the two of us, and I would like to spend— will you marry me? Wait, wha— why are you laughing?”
Asa was indeed laughing, crying too, shoving one hand against his mouth to muffle his giggles and fumbling in his pocket. As Anthony watched with growing anxiety, he came to mirror his lover’s position, kneeling with a matching ring in a black velvet box.
Anthony’s mind had entirely left him. “Is… that a yes?”
“Yes, darling, obviously! Now, will you marry me, Anthony Jay Crowley?”
“Obviously!” Anthony mimicked, still rather panicked by the whole thing. “What was I meant to think, Angel, you just started laughing!
“Oh darling how I do love you…”