"I just thought it was time for us to make a home together.â nixpennn
Out of anything in the world, Nixon never once imagined himself in a relationship. Never once did he imagine himself happy, over-joyously so, and definitely not in a âtill death do we part way. When Nixon imagined his future, be it at twelve or fifteen or even twenty, all he saw was darkness. Black. Empty. Loneliness. He never imagined himself in a place where heâd want to live to see another day, curled up in the warm embrace of a man who knew nothing but to love him wholly.
Nixon got choked up the first time he told Aspen he loved him. It still does. It always will.
Even now, he looks back and forth between Aspenâs unwavering gaze and the gold key between his fingers. Nixon thinks for sure that heâs been in some weird eight month long lucid dream, or maybe heâs in a coma. Aspen feels real to the touch, though. Everything about it feels real. He canât stop thinking about the way Aspen brought it up so casually. Heâd been toying over the idea for weeks, asking Aspen to move in to his shitty Manhattan apartment, but it looks like Aspen jumped the gun.
The mere idea of it all makes Nixon fill to the brim with happiness. He wants the early weekend mornings together, tangled in the sheets with sleepy forehead kisses. He wants the hectic work days, when theyâre both rushing for coffee and lunches only to come home crashed out on the couch. He wants the nights on the patio, chain-smoking and talking about everything under the sun. He wants the good days. He wants the bad days. He wants the sick days, and the angry days, and the lazy days, and all of the days in between.
He wants Aspen in his purest form. He wants Aspen to see himself in that same way.
Nixon stares at the key, but he already knows what his answer is. He smiles, slow, the corners of his lips twitching up. Aspen isnât proposing, but he might as well be. He reaches for Aspenâs cheeks first, cups his jaw as he leans down to press their lips together. He pulls back breathlessly, that same soft smile on his lips, as he takes the key.
âYes,â he nods, as if his words arenât enough. As if his actions arenât enough. He giggles, giddy with excitement, and his eyes shine. âYou know whatâs funny? Iâve been trying to think of how to ask you the same thing.â
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