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The Cabinets

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“But we already saw this one,” Kris protests as Adam pulls him into the two-story house.

“I know,” Adam says, heading up the stairs and straight into the bedroom. “I think we should buy a new bed for this place. A huge four-poster. We can put it here,” he says, running over to the wall on their right. “That way we can see the sky from the bed.”

Kris doesn’t move from his spot by the door. He stares at Adam like he’s crazy.

“You remember the basement?” Adam says, walking over to Kris and reclaiming his hand. “We can build two studios there, so we can both work at the same time if we need to.” He heads out the door, dragging Kris behind him, and walks down the hallway, peeking into the guest bedrooms as they pass them by. “We have enough rooms for both our families. And, you know, if we ever decide to have kids. One day. In the future, I mean.”

Kris stops. “Wait, what?”

“You like kids,” Adam says with a shrug.

Kris blinks at him. “I do, but that’s…” He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing. “You want to get this house?”

“No,” Adam says, talking slowly in case Kris has trouble keeping up again. “You wanted to get this house. So I bought it for us.”

“You what?”

“I bought it,” Adam says, nodding.

“Adam—” Kris throws his hands up and then flails a little. “You don’t just buy a house in one day! You’re supposed to look around, and compare, and, like, negotiate the price.”

“But you loved the yard,” Adam explains. He doesn’t understand what the big deal is. You want something, you get it. And Kris wanted this house. It was clear as day. “You loved the windows in the living room. You said it was amazing how quiet it was—how secluded.”

Kris opens his mouth, but Adam interrupts him before he can come up with any more stupid objections. “I know what you look like when you’re in love, Kris.”

That makes Kris pause, the look in his eyes softening. But then he glances down the stairs toward the kitchen and off he goes again.

“We talked about the cabinets in the kitchen. The tiles. The plumbing. They all need to change. We should have negotiated the price.”

“That’s not important—”

“Of course it’s important. You know how much it’s going to cost to replace all that?” He doesn’t wait for Adam to answer—not that Adam could. “A lot. And I’m pretty sure—”

“Kris.”

“—we could have found—”

“Kris.”

“—another house around here with better—”

“Kris!”

“—cabinets… What?”

Adam pulls out the box he’s been carrying around in his pocket and opens it, holding it up for Kris to see. Kris stares at the ring, and then at Adam, and then back at the ring.

“I—what?”

“Forget about the fucking cabinets. I’m trying to propose.”

“You’re—” Kris’ gaze lands on the ring again, his eyes almost crossing—because it’s right there, in his face. Adam had planned to be kneeling when he did this, but it had never occurred to him that Kris would be going on and on about cabinets.

“Yes. I bought us a house—the house you loved—because I want you to marry me, and I want us to build a life together.”

Kris looks confused. He has always been easy to confuse, which Adam usually finds adorable, but right now, it’s kind of frustrating. “We already do have a life together.”

“A boyfriend life. Not a family life.”

Kris doesn’t respond; he just stares at the ring with his mouth hanging open. Adam’s heart sinks, and his hand twitches, holding the ring. This was obviously a mistake. Kris doesn’t like the house, and he doesn’t want to get married, and Adam has just screwed up everything.

“Look, forget I said anything,” Adam says, closing the box and looking down. “I should have talked to you first—”

“I do!” Kris says. “I mean, yes!” He laughs nervously. “Wrong order.”

“Yes?”

Kris nods frantically.

Adam grins, standing there like an idiot, holding the box in a too-tight grip.

“The cabinets?”

Kris pries the box from between his fingers and wraps his arms around Adam’s neck. “Fuck the cabinets,” he says, and kisses him.