cold, sender places their jacket over receiver's shoulders / hussixand
the jacket slips over his shoulders easily, warmly, as it still carries the heat and dizzying scent that typically clings to the man strolling alongside. this man who doesn't give him flowers or candy, in the very way jeremiah could've done for any other person that wasn’t his forever. what andrés did was give him the moon and the stars; he feels it with every single touch gliding along his skin, in promises sealed within every kiss, with declarations in the safety net of vows. andrés has given him infinity. is this what it’s supposed to feel like? what he’s been waiting for this entire time? belly and conrad, infinity has always been theirs, but maybe jeremiah's was simply unresolved. imminent, waiting. he didn't grow up knowing the man of his dreams, but he sure as hell found him later. perhaps everyone can be fortunate enough to experience a staggering love in their lifetime like this, too. softness eases the corners of his eyes as they crinkle in line with a sweet smile, the glacial piercing of jeremiah's eyes thawing the longer he gazes at andrès beside him.
this hadn't been the plan, in fact, it was far from it. today wasn't supposed to be the day. but the weight of the ring encased in a velvet box in his pocket has only become heavier and heavier with every passing day. he had a plan, at the end of the week when they got back to cousins, he'd drop to a knee and ask this beautiful man to be his forever. but today, strolling along the shore in madrid at the glowing hours of sunset is just a good a day as any. he comes to a gradual halt as they walk, eyes briefly closing as he releases a breath he'd failed to notice he'd even been holding until his chest ached. stepping forth and turning with equal parts leisure and resolution, beck's sunshine boy takes the other's hand in his and sinks into the sand, his legs dropping his frame to a kneel. andrés’ hand is now in his, a ring having at some point been single-handedly extracted from its box now held up between forefinger and thumb. if this is what’s meant to be his infinity, it doesn't matter where infinity begins. "marry me," that isn't what he'd planned to say either, yet tears spring into his eyes, smile blinding. "marry me, andrés. make me the happiest guy in the world."
actions speak louder than words starters, accepting. cold, sender places their jacket over receiver's shoulders.
