[ He knew what they were here for, Tim knew what they were here for, nothing about the proposal was a surprise. And yet the butterflies in Majima's stomach were almost unbearable -- what if Tim said no? What if he had cold hooves? But he heard yes, and then more yes, and Majima was savoring that sound. Committing to memory every second of it, the warmth of Tim's arms and the tears against his skin.
Majima's eyes were watering and he had no idea why; he was happy, he'd never been this ecstatic in his goddamn life. And he wanted to kiss Tim. The press of his mouth was brief against Tim's lips, because he couldn't quite decide if he wanted to smooch the man some more or tell him -- ]
[ He was delirious, but still it occurred to Majima that he was almost forgetting something, and so he took the ring from its housing and with uncharacteristic clumsiness, managed to slip it over the first knuckle of Tim's fourth finger. There was the hard part; maybe he'd be less useless if he could just stop talking. ]
We'll get hitched under those cherry blossoms, huh? Have a nice, big place with a yard, and then we can wake up every mornin' together.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-03-10 04:01 am (UTC)Majima's eyes were watering and he had no idea why; he was happy, he'd never been this ecstatic in his goddamn life. And he wanted to kiss Tim. The press of his mouth was brief against Tim's lips, because he couldn't quite decide if he wanted to smooch the man some more or tell him -- ]
I love you, too.
[ One thing, though, didn't require Majima to decide a damn thing, and that was returning the embrace. And hey, even if Tim did squeeze a little too enthusiastically? He'd die as he lived, with his face in a Grade-A rack. Long fingers ran through the bullman's hair as Majima drew his fiancé close -- as if Tim was the most precious treasure in the whole damn world.
(He was.) ]
I can't wait.
[ He was delirious, but still it occurred to Majima that he was almost forgetting something, and so he took the ring from its housing and with uncharacteristic clumsiness, managed to slip it over the first knuckle of Tim's fourth finger. There was the hard part; maybe he'd be less useless if he could just stop talking. ]
We'll get hitched under those cherry blossoms, huh? Have a nice, big place with a yard, and then we can wake up every mornin' together.