Impulse/Proposal

A long, long time ago, a teenage boy from Ireland with wavy brown hair was the popular kid in his school, with all his friends who looked up at him and all the least popular boys held under his thumb. Everyone wanted to either be this boy or be friends with him.

There was also a boy who was quiet and needed glasses for reading, but not ordinary sight. Only, he read a lot, so he kept the glasses on all the time to avoid bother. He wasn't very popular, and his best friend was a little bit racist, which was never fun. His group didn't get on with the other group.

Two years on, boys playing where they really should not. Mario, a dark-skinned boy in spectacles, warned people to be careful. No-one paid any heed and a scuffle broke out. He kept his eyes on his book, and a group of boys ran away, while another screamed and fell. Mario looked up and hurried over. When he got to the edge of the dangerous ledge the boys had been playing on, and he saw Erskine, the popular boy with dark brown hair and bright green eyes, lying unconscious, blood pumping from his head. Even though Mario and Erskine hated one another, the dark-skinned boy phoned an ambulance and saved Erskine's life.

Years later. Present day. Mario Norwood, bodybuilder. Mario swears the shit he's been through would mentally scar the toughest people. Erskine Allen, unemployed, has certainly got the scars and is not afraid to prove it. Mario worked as a trainer in a gym. He stood on the second floor of his house and leant over the bannister, looking down at his lazy lover, chewing his lip. Erskine was sprawled across the sofa, flicking through channels with his hand held high over his head. He would not let Mario choose the channel, that was for sure.

Erskine didn't like big shows of affection or cutesy things, except maybe if the cutesy things in question were pets. They were thinking of getting a puppy soon. Erskine wanted a Rottweiler and Mario wanted a Stabyhoun. Probably one of the most minor spats they'd ever had, considering all the other things they argued about. He sighed, clutching a bunch of roses behind his back and thinking for the longest time. This would take some careful tiptoeing around for it to go right. Careful tiptoeing would be difficult for a great big heffalump like Mario. He descended the stairs as quietly as he could, hoping to take Erskine by surprise, but one step creaked. Erskine turned his head. "Hey Mario. I was wondering when you would get your lazy arse out of bed."
Rolling his eyes, the body builder wrestled the remote from his boyfriend's grip and turned off the television.
"I was watching that!"
"You were not."
"I was too."
"What was it then?"
"A documentary on aphids."
"That wasn't an aphid."
"I'm sorry? Mario, honey, who here has a degree in zoology?"
"Your degree is in marine biology."
"You don't even have a degree, so you can't talk."
"I think I know what an aphid is."
"You can say that..."
"What do you even hope to do with marine biology?"
"Work in seaworld!"
"I thought you hated those sorts of things...and that Seaworld wasn't in this country..."
"At a zoo then."
Mario sighed and rolled his eyes, passing him the roses. "I got you a gift."
Erskine pulled a face. "Prostitutes of nature?"
"They're plastic roses. You can keep them forever and they won't make you sneeze, and they make the place look nice."
He sighed. "Mario, you sound angry."
"I'm not."
"You know I just like messing with you."
"I know. I'm not angry." He just tended to sound angry when anxious. Erskine moved his legs off the sofa and patted the space beside him.
"C'mon, sit."
"Yeah, okay." He sat, smiling. The smile widened when the smaller, fairer man leaned in to cuddle up with him.
"Will you get me a biscuit?" He asked sweetly, trying to put on puppy-dog eyes, but all Mario saw in those pools of green were the eyes of a deceptive demon.
"In a minute, maybe. I want to talk to you first."
"You can talk while fetching the biscuit."
"Erskine, I'm not going to get you a fucking biscuit."
He raised a hand in surrender. "Okay, fine, whatever."
He heaved a sigh. "Sorry...look, I'll get you a biscuit in a minute, after I'm done talking, okay?"
"So that means this isn't a break up talk, right?"
"Right."
"Good, because I plan to stick by your side as long as I live...providing you want that. I mean, I know I can be a douche at times and really, really sensitive and a total arsehole, but I really do care for you, y'know? I really do love you. I'm super, duper sorry for all the shit I put you through. Like, I've been a bastard to you most of our lives but you've actually saved my life hundreds of times regardless, and then gone on to be the best boyfriend I could ever wish for and...and I just really, really love you, okay?" Erskine paused, reaching up to wipe his eyes before anything resembling a tear could escape, only to find them still dry. "I love you so much yet I treat you like utter crap."
"You don't treat me like crap, Erskine."
"Yes I do, Mario. I always have and I am so sorry."
"Hey," The larger man wrapped an arm around his lover's waist, pulling him close into a warm embrace. "Forget about it. I wouldn't put up with it any more if I didn't love you. Nor would I gift to you those beautiful, um, plastic prostitutes..."
"I love them, thank you." It was clearly insincere, but it didn't matter. There was a brief silence and Mario broke it by clearing his throat.
"Gay marriage is legal now..."
"Don't you just mean marriage? There's no difference now."
"Well-"
"Is this your way of proposing to me? Because damn, it's been a long time coming...and you know I think diamonds are the worst kind of jewellery and should only be used as tools, right?"
"I remembered that much." Mario assured him with a chuckle, gesturing to the bouquet. Erskine rolled his eyes and searched through it, pulling out a silver ring with a strange amber gem. He arched an eyebrow and Mario groaned.
"It was literally the only ring they had that didn't have a diamond in it. It's fucking ridiculous, the diamonds don't even look that good. Rings need some variety and colour, surely!"
The brunette gave a nod of agreement before slipping it on. "It's lovely, Mario." He assured him, voice level yet sincere. "And fits me perfectly! Though really, you shouldn't be the one proposing."
"What do you mean?"
"I've been planning this for fucking months is what I mean!" He answered before getting up and limping to his bag, pulling out a velvet box. He threw it at the bodybuilder, aiming for the head, but the larger man was able to catch it, making the fair man pout. Flicking it open with his thumb, he found a pinkish-gold band with an onyx gem in the centre.
"...Wow." Was all he said.
"You don't like it?"
"It's pink."
Erskine's temper flared. "It'll fit you and it has no diamonds, you fat fuck."
"Temper, temper. Calling me a fat fuck won't get me to marry you."
"Hey, you just tried to propose too. That means you've already accepted the offer."
Mario thought about it for a moment before shrugging. "If you keep being nasty I might have to refuse to let you make any big decisions. Besides which, you're very accident prone, you might destroy everything."
"As long as you don't make me wear a dress."
"We could both wear white though."
Erskine have a hum of thought before shaking his head. "I think that's supposed to be for virgins. I think we should wear navy. Or pink, just to be silly."
"Yes, pink, absolutely pink. Everything will be pink. Pink wedding."
"No, rainbow wedding! The ultimate gay wedding!"
They laughed, hands clasped as they got more and more into their mock plans. "With people dressed as angels and the floor is white and fluffy like clouds."
"And the cake will have seven layers, one for every colour of the rainbow."
"Plus two more invisible layers for the colours of magic."
"Absolutely!" More laughter followed. "The invitations will be rainbow and delivered by courier dove, and everyone will be given a colour once they RSVP so they can be sat like a proper rainbow, a row for green, a row for yellow, a row for red...the works!"
"That would be brilliant, and just watching their faces as they realise what we've planned and they just hide their faces in their hands like 'Mario, Erskine, really?' because they will realise we are the ultimate geeks."
"Well, everyone already knows you're the ultimate geek, Mario."
"Yeah, they just choose not to notice your Star Trek collection."
"I don't have a collection, it's just a few box sets and socks!"
"And the My Little Pony nightshirt."
"Hey, Luna is supposed to watch over dreams, I'm only helping her by keeping her close."
"Shirts don't fend off nightmares, Skinny."
"Yeah, but strong, cuddly fiances do." He teased, running a finger over Mario's chest. The larger man laughed, cuddling the smaller closer so they could properly snuggle up.
"I promise I'll protect you from whatever I can, okay?"
"Likewise."
Mario gave a snort of laughter at that. "You never do the protecting, you know."
"I could if all the ghosts weren't always targeting me!"
"I dunno, I haven't seen you act in a life or death situation before."
"I act very well in life or death situations, I'll have you know."
"Sure, sure." He gave the fair man a pat on the head, getting him a glare in return.
"You're such an arsehole, Mario."
"I love you too, Erskine."