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1.
Seonghwa’s streak of bad luck starts on a beautiful May evening at the nicest restaurant he knows.
“More wine?” He says, reaching to grab Yeosang’s nearly empty glass from in front of him.
“Yeah, thank you,” Yeosang says, “What’s got you acting all extra gentlemanly? I feel like I’m forgetting something important...”
“Oh, no,” Seonghwa says, carefully placing the bottle back on the table once he’s done pouring, “What, I can’t just treat my boyfriend to a nice dinner?” He drawls the words to make Yeosang cringe.
“Oh god, stop being cheesy,” Yeosang says, grimacing playfully as he takes the glass.
They’re interrupted by the waiter bringing over dessert, and Seonghwa feels his heart beat faster in his chest. This is it.
He watches the sweet smile that blooms across Yeosang’s face as he takes his first sugary bite, and slips a hand into his own pocket to finally do what he’s been planning for months.
Except—it’s not there.
The ring is not there.
Seonghwa is sure his face must be doing something atrocious based on Yeosang’s concerned, “Babe, you okay?”, but he barely hears it past the blood rushing in his ears.
He glances at the floor around his chair, but finds nothing. Did he lose the ring? Could it have fallen out of his pocket on their way here without either of them noticing? No, there’s no way—the box is heavy, he would have felt it, or at least heard it, if it had fallen.
He mentally walks through his afternoon. Shower, some tidying up, getting ready for dinner… ironing his pants, picking a belt… oh no, it’s not that he lost the ring, he realizes.
He didn’t even bring the ring.
It’s sitting in their apartment, in the far corner of his sock drawer, probably laughing at him if a piece of diamond-studded metal could laugh.
Seonghwa resists the urge to face plant directly into his creme brûlée and tries to school his expression into something less horrified.
“Ah, sorry, I’m fine. Just zoned out,” Seonghwa says to cover his brief trip into his own brain. His stupid brain that forgot the damn ring the night he was planning to propose. For fuck’s sake. He briefly considers doing it once they get back to the apartment, but Seonghwa is sure it’ll be apparent he meant to do it at dinner. Yeosang doesn’t deserve anything less than the most perfect proposal memory, not something frazzled and seemingly ill-planned. No.
They’ll just have to wait a tiny bit longer.
2.
Late spring means the trees and flowers are blooming, the weather is ideal, and Seonghwa has another excuse to bring Yeosang somewhere picture-perfect to propose.
It’s easy to convince Yeosang to go for an early evening walk when the weather is so gorgeous, and Seonghwa double-and-triple checks that he’s stashed the ring safely in the pocket of his light jacket—no forgetting the damn thing again.
Their perfectly timed after-dinner walk puts them in a park near their apartment right at golden hour, and Seonghwa is sure to take as many pictures as Yeosang will put up with to be extra sure he’ll remember everything about this night. He needs a new phone wallpaper, anyways.
It’s quiet once Seonghwa has had his fill of pictures, and as they walk under the blooming trees, he figures it’s the right time. Finally. Butterflies bubble up in his stomach but he lets the nervous energy spur him on. He pulls his hand from Yeosang’s hold and pauses, one hand fishing into his jacket pocket for the ring. He makes to get down on one knee.
“Yeosang, I—”
Seonghwa loses his balance as he kneels, pitching forward unsteadily. The hand grabbing for the ring gets tangled in his pocket in his panic, and his face careens towards the pavement. He barely has time to make a noise of alarm before he’s inelegantly crashing to the concrete.
His free hand catches most of the impact—and gains a nasty scrape—but his face does not escape entirely unscathed. He groans into the pavement pathetically.
“Holy shit! Seonghwa?!” Yeosang’s voice is panicked as he crouches down, helping Seonghwa up off the ground. The hand Seonghwa has finally managed to free from his jacket moves to grab at his stinging nose and cheek. “Jesus, are you okay?”
Seonghwa makes a sad bleat of pain in response, and Yeosang gently pries his hands away from his face.
“Oh fuck.” Yeosang’s words don’t do much to calm the panic slowly rising in Seonghwa’s guts.
“Is it bad?” He asks, hissing as he touches the stinging skin of his nose. At least nothing feels broken.
“Um, no?” Yeosang says, fretting and waving his hands helplessly. “You’re just… bleeding a bit. It probably looks worse than it is.”
“Oh my god,” Seonghwa says, and he knows his voice is a whine but he figures it’s justified. He certainly can’t propose now, bleeding and dirty from his fall. He’s really more upset about having to delay his plans again than the throbbing scrapes on his face—though he’s not too pleased at himself for the latter, either. “Dammit.”
“Hey, you’re alright,” Yeosang’s voice has lost its panicked edge and gone soft, trying to soothe Seonghwa as he steers them towards the entrance of the park. “Let’s go home and I’ll get you cleaned up, okay?”
3.
Going out clearly does not bode well for Seonghwa’s ability to get a damn proposal right, so his next plan—once the scrapes on his face heal over—involves staying within the safety of their apartment. He can’t forget the ring, there’s no concrete to trip on, he’s golden.
It’s not a particularly noteworthy Saturday, except that Seonghwa wakes early to make breakfast. He whips up a damn near feast, though as quietly as possible so he doesn’t accidentally disturb Yeosang.
Yeosang is still snoring peacefully by the time Seonghwa piles a tray high with all of Yeosang's favorites, piles of fruits, and several different types of meat—plus a small vase with a flower he snipped from the pots on their balcony. He slips the ring box into the pocket of his pajama pants before carrying the whole affair into their bedroom.
He sits on the edge of the bed and balances the tray with one hand across his knees as he uses the other to gently nudge at Yeosang’s shoulder.
“Hey baby, wake up,” Seonghwa coos, nudging at him again, “Yeosangie~”
Yeosang wakes slowly, blinking blearily as he rolls onto his back and stretches his arms. His face is flushed.
“‘Hwa?” He mumbles, still half asleep as he sits up with a grunt. “Wha’s all this?”
“I made breakfast!”
Yeosang gets one good sniff of the food before he’s turning green and shoving Seonghwa out of the way to run to the bathroom. The sound of him retching into the toilet follows right after.
Seonghwa sighs, placing the tray on the nightstand and swiping the glass of water off of it to bring to Yeosang. He mentally steels himself to rub his poor sick boyfriend’s back as he heaves into the toilet.
The ring is tucked back into his sock drawer.
4.
By the time Yeosang gets over his bout with stomach flu—no doubt picked up from one of his students—it’s nearly his birthday. Seonghwa figures he may as well wait the few more days to do it then.
Their plans to go out for dinner and have friends over for cake were postponed to the weekend after Yeosang’s birthday—both too busy with work to spare that much time in the middle of the week—but Seonghwa thinks their quiet meal at home on the actual day will be the perfect time to finally, finally pop the damn question.
He’s gone all out, if he does say so himself, lighting candles to set the mood and busting out the tablecloth that they only ever put on the dining room table when their parents visit. He even pulled down the fancy dishware his grandmother gave him from the very tops of their kitchen cabinets—though he feels a little silly plating chicken on it. (That was Yeosang’s only birthday request though, food from his favorite take-out place, and Seonghwa wouldn’t dream of denying him.)
He’s staring into their fridge to decide what drink pairs well with greasy fried chicken when he hears Yeosang get home.
“Wow, what’s all this for?” Yeosang says teasingly, hanging his jacket at the door and meeting Seonghwa in the kitchen for a quick kiss. “I thought we were eating takeout on the couch.”
“Oh shush, I wanted to make it nice for your birthday,” Seonghwa says, shuffling Yeosang out of the kitchen with a gentle swat to his backside. “Go wash up so we can eat.”
Halfway through dinner, Seonghwa realizes he forgot to put the ring in his pocket, again—but this time it’s fine! They’re at home! He’ll just run and grab it once they finish eating, and from there he can’t possibly fuck this up again.
He hopes.
He excuses himself politely once Yeosang is thoroughly engrossed in the cupcakes Seonghwa picked up from a bakery on his way home. The ring box is right where it should be in his sock drawer, and he opens it to quickly double check that the ring is definitely inside, which it is. He slips it into his pocket, lets the giddy emotions bubble up in his stomach, and makes his way back to the kitchen.
And stops short in the living room, because Yeosang has moved.
Specifically, Yeosang has moved to the couch, where he sits pretty, clad only in a soft pink lingerie set—stockings, panties, lace, the works. Seonghwa has to remember to close his mouth.
“Um…” Seonghwa says stupidly, before his brain remembers how to speak like a functioning human. “I… I thought it was your birthday.”
Yeosang chuckles sweetly at that, standing and moving to wrap his arms around Seonghwa’s shoulders, leaning right into his space. “Mm, it is…”
Seonghwa’s hands automatically find their way to Yeosang’s waist, idly fiddling with the lace trim of the garter belt wrapped snug there. He hadn’t even realized Yeosang must’ve been wearing all of this under his soft sweater. The thought makes him lightheaded.
“This seems more like a gift for me, baby,” He says honestly. His pretty Yeosangie, all wrapped up with ribbons and bows like a present.
“I’m sure you’ll make it good for me too, hyung,” Yeosang answers, voice pitched low in a way that makes Seonghwa’s guts twist. Yeosang captures his lips in a searing kiss that tastes like frosting before Seonghwa can even muster up the brain power to respond.
The next morning, Seonghwa barely remembers to recover the ring from the pocket of his pants that were stripped off somewhere between the living room and the bed.
He can’t even manage to be that upset as he rehides the damn thing amongst his socks once again.
5.
The next opportunity presents itself when they’re piling into the car and meeting their friends at the beach one summer evening. Seonghwa wasn’t even really planning to, but the beach is pretty and they’re lighting a bonfire so it seems like as good a time as any. He slips the ring in his bag right before they leave—not the pocket of his swim trunks, that sounds like a literal disaster waiting to happen given his current streak of luck.
He’s thankful for his last minute decision to take the ring, because once the evening winds down and everyone is splayed out sleepily on towels to dry off around the fire pit, proposing under the stars on the beach seems perfect.
“Let’s take a walk,” He says, just loud enough for Yeosang to hear. Yeosang agrees, lets Seonghwa help him up, and takes his hand as they walk further up the beach just to have a bit of privacy. Everyone is either half asleep or too caught up in their own conversations to notice, which is perfect.
He’s about to take a knee in the sand when he hears a distant gasp that sounds suspiciously like San behind them. He’d normally just ignore something like that, but it’s followed immediately by a sniffly Oh my god from Hongjoong.
“Oh hyung, look!” Yeosang says, pointing back towards their friends before Seonghwa can say anything himself.
He turns and—fuck. He’s clearly not the only one who thought this would be perfect.
There’s Hongjoong, hands held to his mouth in shock. And there’s Yunho, on one knee in front of him. They’re a bit too far to see it completely clearly but Seonghwa is sure there’s a ring in his hand. The rest of their friends are gathered close, in various states of crying and whooping.
It’s hard to run in sand but they manage a light jog back over to their friends, Yeosang’s hand in Seonghwa’s pulling him along. The ring box is shoved careful into his pocket.
They’re already within earshot to hear Hongjoong’s teary Of course, you dork, as he kneels in the sand himself to wrap his arms around Yunho. The amount of noise the rest of their friends are making increases exponentially.
It’s a heartwarming scene, even as a terrible deep part of Seonghwa twinges with envy—he wanted his own heartwarming scene on the beach under the stars, but he can’t very well do so now. There’s definitely some kind of social code here.
They cheer and clap along with everyone until Hongjoong and Yunho are picking themselves up out of the sand. Mingi is blubbering and immediately wrapping himself around Yunho so Seonghwa takes a moment to sling an arm over Hongjoong’s shoulder.
“I’m so happy for you, Joong,” Seonghwa says, sincerely. And then because he can’t help it—“You'll name your first kid after me, right?”
Hongjoong slaps Seonghwa’s shoulder in response. He’s crying too hard to do anything else, and Yunho is crying, and Jongho might be crying, and Seonghwa feels a few tears come to his eyes despite himself.
He doesn’t mind waiting just a bit longer.
+1
Messing up five proposal attempts in a row isn’t great for morale.
Seonghwa resolved to give himself a week without thinking about the proposal at all so he could go at it with a fresh perspective—a difficult task when his nightmares have started to involve gold rings and slightly-too-wide sewer grates. At least the extra time hasn’t given him cold feet or anything of the sort.
It’s just a lazy evening when Seonghwa is trying not to think about proposal plans, sprawled out on the couch in sweatpants with Yeosang as they watch reruns on TV. They ate dinner on the couch too, leftovers straight out of the takeout containers even though Seonghwa usually insists that they at least sit at the kitchen table.
And it’s nice, Yeosang’s warmth tucked close against his side. It brings his mind wandering back to the whole getting married thing, despite his attempts to clear his mind for a few days at least. He just can’t help thinking about how perfect this is, how content he feels to be curled up on the couch with his love, nothing except each other. How he can’t wait to promise each other to have that forever.
Yeosang looks over at him, and his eyes are sleepy even though it’s barely eight. He smiles and Seonghwa feels his heart melt, just a little.
“Hey,” Yeosang says.
“Hmm?”
“I love you.” He says.
Seonghwa realizes a lot of things all at once.
He leans over to leave the briefest of kisses on Yeosang’s lips before gently untangling himself with an apology.
He darts into the bedroom and grabs the ring from his sock drawer, not even bothering to close it all the way before running back out.
He’s still got some momentum from the run back as he tries to go down on one knee in front of Yeosang, so he slides forward a bit, nearly slamming his nose into Yeosang’s leg and definitely getting rug burn on his knee. A commercial for cheese plays on the television behind him. He’s pretty sure there’s a sauce stain from dinner on his sweatpants.
But it’s fine. It’s perfect.
He holds out the box and opens it, ring sparkling with the light reflecting off of the television.
“I love you too,” Seonghwa says simply. He had a whole speech planned, meticulously revised over and over after every failed attempt, but none of that seems to matter anymore. “Marry me?”
Yeosang blinks at him wordlessly for a moment before he scrambles off of the couch and into Seonghwa’s arms.
“Yes,” He says, muffled slightly where his face is half-pressed to Seonghwa’s neck and thick with tears. He sniffles wetly and Seonghwa’s eyes get misty too. He wraps his arms tight around Yeosang, and that’s where they stay for a long moment—sitting on the floor in the living room, crying like fools. It’s perfect.
They pull apart long enough to relocate to the couch, Seonghwa finally getting to slide the ring onto Yeosang’s finger like he’s wanted to for ages.
“You know, I've been expecting this for a while. I didn’t think I’d cry,” Yeosang says, voice a bit scratchy. He holds his hand out at all different angles to admire the ring.
“I’ve been trying to do this for a while, so I didn’t think I’d cry either,” Seonghwa says with a laugh.
“Trying? You tried already?”
“You don’t even know the half of it.”