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There was never anything good on late-night TV these days. Ryuji flipped aimlessly through the channels in search of something interesting to watch, but all he could find were reruns of old K-dramas, weird moe anime, and a series of increasingly bizarre and unfunny game shows. Eventually he settled on some low-budget comedy series with an unhappy sigh. He settled back into the couch cushions a bit more forcefully than necessary, ignoring Daigo’s vague sound of annoyance as he was displaced.
“Quit moving around,” Daigo grumbled, cracking an eye open in a sleepy glare.
“Go use an actual pillow if it bothers ya so much,” Ryuji griped back.
Daigo huffed but resettled himself against Ryuji’s side without any further comment, dropping his head back onto Ryuji’s shoulder.
Ryuji redirected his attention to the TV. One of the characters had started complaining about his wife, using every single “old ball-and-chain” joke that everyone had heard fifty million times before. Ryuji couldn’t help but roll his eyes – was a little originality too much to ask? And then, of course, the female coworker started berating the man, nagging at him just like his wife, which was apparently supposed to be the height of comedy. Ryuji could feel what little interest he still had dying by the second.
Although, now that his mind was desperately casting about for some form of distraction, he could remember once having a girlfriend that used to nag about marriage. Ryuji had initially only been messing around with no serious intentions, but she had been the daughter of some important family up north, and her father had been agreeable to the idea of an arranged marriage. For a while, Ryuji had considered it. As soon as he had set his sights for the very top, he had accepted that something like a political marriage might be necessary for him to effectively consolidate power. It might not even be so bad. Plenty of arranged marriages turned out okay. And he had always assumed, in those rare moments when he had allowed himself to consider his ideal future, that he would get married one day. Maybe even have some kids and pass the leadership mantle on to one of them, assuming they deserved it.
Of course, life didn’t work out that way. All he could pass on now were a few swords and a takoyaki stand. And at this age, he doubted kids would be in his future anyway. Definitely not any biological ones, he thought wryly as he felt Daigo shift against him. “Oi, Daigo. You still awake?” he asked.
“Hmm?” Daigo hummed in faint acknowledgment.
“Ya ever think about marriage when you were younger?” He’d grown up in an important family too. There must have been some offers, at least.
“Marriage?” Daigo mumbled. “I tried not to.”
“Really? Not yer thing, then? I always thought I’d end up married one day.”
“Had a nightmare once that my dad wanted to marry me off to some girl. I tried to make myself as unappealing as possible so she’d call it off.”
Ryuji snorted. “Yeah? Ya hated the idea that much?”
“I’d be miserable,” Daigo sighed. “It’d make my wife miserable too.”
“I thought about an arranged marriage once,” Ryuji admitted. “Kinda figured that was all I’d get. Of course, I ain’t gettin’ any offers these days.”
“Lucky. I still get offers sometimes… It’s terrible.”
“What about marriage for love?” Ryuji asked. “I never thought much about it, but I’ve never been against it either. Ya ever think about a happily-ever-after marriage?”
Daigo yawned and pulled himself a little closer. “My happily-ever-after isn’t legal,” he mumbled.
Oh, right. That would complicate things. “It’s legal in some countries, now,” Ryuji pointed out. “Could happen here too. Ya never thought about the what-if?”
No reply. Daigo sighed softly.
“You fall asleep again? Daigo?”
“Mmm,” Daigo hummed. “Yeah, sure. I’d marry you.”
“Huh.” No, that wasn’t right. “W-Wait.” What the hell did he just say? “Wait, that ain’t what I asked.” It wasn’t, right? They’d just been talking in general. “Daigo? Hey, Daigo?”
A soft snore was his only answer.
Ryuji stared down at Daigo. He was still leaning on Ryuji’s shoulder, both arms looped loosely around one of Ryuji’s, his body curled in towards him. He looked relaxed in a way he never did when he was awake. It should’ve been a familiar sight, but suddenly it seemed very strange.
Of course Ryuji knew on some level that Daigo cared about him. He let Ryuji practically live in his apartment, he told Ryuji all kinds of things about his job that Ryuji probably really wasn’t supposed to know, and he kept trying to buy him insanely expensive new swords for his collection. And he’d agreed to be Ryuji’s official boyfriend, but…
But he never actually talked about it. He’d told Ryuji it was fine to use the word boyfriend, but he’d never used it himself. He’d never even told Ryuji he liked him, or that he wanted him to officially move in. Let alone anything even vaguely encroaching on topics like marriage, of all things.
“Yeah, no way I can just let this go,” Ryuji muttered. He sat up fully, grabbed Daigo by the shoulders, and pivoted to face him. “Oi, Daigo.”
Suddenly without a headrest, Daigo blinked awake with an angry scowl. “What?”
“You remember what ya just said?” Ryuji asked.
“What? No. Let me sleep,” Daigo complained.
“Ya said you’d marry me. You mean that shit?”
“Huh?” That seemed to wake him up. He stiffened up immediately and scrambled back several centimeters, eyes wide. “D-Did I? Did I really?”
“Yeah, ya did.” Ryuji released his grip and watched Daigo carefully.
“Um.” Daigo appeared to be staring at some point just over Ryuji’s shoulder. His face had drained of color, and his hands were gripping his thighs so tightly it looked painful. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, and he closed it again with a pained grimace.
Ryuji held his silence. He was usually the one starting these kinds of conversations, but this time he wanted to hear it directly from Daigo first.
“S-Sorry,” Daigo choked out eventually. “I’m sorry.”
Ryuji frowned. “What’re ya apologizin’ for?”
“It’s… It’s too much, right? I shouldn’t have- I wasn’t thinking. Um, I won’t…” He didn’t seem to know where he was going with that, trailing off awkwardly. His hands were shaking slightly.
Oh. Was he scared? That was new. Ryuji slid his hands over Daigo’s, trying to coax them out of their painful death grip. “Hey, look at me?” he asked.
After a long moment, Daigo finally made eye contact.
“I ain’t mad or nothin’. Just wanna know if ya meant it.” Ryuji tried to keep his voice as even as possible.
Daigo stared back at him for a few seconds before his eyes slid away again. He nodded.
“Huh.” That was pretty fucking great, actually. Ryuji wrapped his arms around Daigo on impulse, pulling him back against his side.
Daigo remained stiff against him. “Um, you aren’t… upset, or anything?”
“Nah. Why the hell would I be upset?” There was a giddy elation bubbling in his chest that could probably be described as the opposite of upset. “Pretty sure I just got a confession. Or yer version of one, anyway.”
“Oh.” One of Daigo’s hands tentatively rested on his shoulder. “Well, good. It isn’t too much, then?”
“Too much?” Ryuji laughed. “I love you too, Daigo. Just wasn’t sure ya felt the same. Pretty hard to tell what goes on in that head of yers, sometimes.”
“O-Oh. You said it.” Daigo finally, bit by bit, began to relax into the embrace. “How do you just say things like that,” he mumbled, softly enough that Ryuji wasn’t sure he was even supposed to hear it.
“Don’t bother me none.” Ryuji had always favored the more direct approach. “I don’t think I realized ya struggled with that kinda thing, though,” he admitted. “You okay?”
“Sorry,” Daigo said, voice tinged with embarrassment. “I’m fine.”
“Quit apologizin’.” Ryuji pulled back to look at him. He looked like he felt a bit better, at least; the tension had drained from his body and the color had returned to his face. More color than usual, even. “Ya sure picked a helluva way to confess, though.”
“I wasn’t trying to confess anything,” he muttered. “You’re taking advantage of my sleep deprivation.”
“Didn’t mean to. Never heard of anyone proposin’ outta exhaustion, anyway.” Really, he’d just been bored and had latched on the first available topic. And while Daigo tended to say some weird shit when he was half-asleep, it was usually nonsensical.
“T-That wasn’t a proposal!” Daigo sputtered. “I was following the conversation for that much! We were just talking in generalities! So I just meant, in general…”
“In general, you’d marry me?” Ryuji grinned.
“Er.” Daigo shifted uncomfortably and dropped his gaze to his lap. “I mean, it still isn’t legal. And even if it were, it’d probably be a bureaucratic nightmare…”
“But ya would if ya could.” Ryuji’s grin grew. “Sounds like a proposal to me.”
“It’s not,” Daigo groaned, dropping his face in his hands. “I don’t even have a ring or anything.”
“What, you’d get me a ring?”
“Aren’t you supposed to have one?” Daigo looked back up at him. “I know that much about romance.”
Romance? Ryuji raised an eyebrow. “Ya plannin’ to go all out over there or somethin’? Gonna get down on one knee for me?”
“Uh, we’re still talking hypothetically, right? If I were going to propose, isn’t that how you’re supposed to do it?”
“Well, yeah, but…” Daigo and romantic were two very conflicting images. He couldn’t picture it.
Daigo squinted at him suspiciously. “Do you… want me to propose?”
Shit, was that an option? “Would ya do it?”
“I mean. If you wanted it…” Daigo looked away. “As long as it’s not in public.”
“Not in public?” Ryuji mused. Why would that matter, unless… “Wait, does anything else go?” Oh, shit. Here was a fun chance to flip the tables for once, while Daigo was still off-balance. What was that K-drama finale he’d caught on the other day? There’d been a proposal on that. Something big and romantic, if he could just remember… Ah, right. “I want ya to propose to me on top of a Ferris wheel in the middle of a summer festival fireworks show.”
“You- Huh?” Daigo’s eyes widened. “You’re fucking with me, right?”
“But ya need to buy the Ferris wheel first so no one else’s on it. Can’t have anyone ruinin’ the big moment. I’m sure ya can afford it,” he continued.
“Uh,” Daigo said.
Ryuji took a moment to hold off the shit-eating grin threatening to overtake him. “And this needs to be after we’ve spent the whole day together at the festival, of course. Gotta set the right mood and all that shit.”
“Please say you’re fucking with me.” A hopeless sort of panic had begun to creep into Daigo’s eyes.
“And I want my ring to be one of those rose-gold ones that everyone’s talkin’ about. With at least three- no, FIVE diamonds.”
Daigo kind of looked like he was about to cry. “I-If… If that’s actually what you want…”
“I take this shit serious, Daigo. This is the rest of our lives we’re talkin’ about.”
“Okay,” Daigo said. “I mean, I can try…”
“Yeah? You’ll do it?” He couldn’t hold it in anymore. The grin broke across his face, and he burst into wild laughter. “Shit,” he wheezed when he could manage to speak without cackling. “Ya really do love me. Shoulda seen your face.”
“Y-You asshole!” Daigo punched him in the shoulder, hard. “I was actually starting to believe you!”
“Sorry, sorry. Couldn’t resist. But did ya seriously think I’d give a shit about any of that stuff?”
“I don’t know! I’m too tired for your bullshit right now.” Daigo huffed and stood up. “I’m going to bed. Sleep on the couch if you’re going to make fun of me.”
“Hey, ya can’t propose and then make me sleep on the couch,” Ryuji whined.
“I didn’t propose!”
“Okay, okay, whatever ya say,” he placated. “Guess I’ll just head back to my place, then…”
Daigo pulled a face at that. “I’m pretty sure my couch is more comfortable than your bed. I didn’t mean it, anyway… Sleep wherever you like. But if we’re done with all the relationship talk, I really am going to bed.” With that, he stalked off towards the bedroom.
That left Ryuji alone with just the still-running TV. He snorted to himself as he turned it off. Maybe there was something to that comedy show after all, if it had led him to all this. He stood and stretched with a sigh, before turning to follow Daigo.