[For Bobby] Paris, je t'aime.

[prodigalflame]

They had left London from St Pancras on the Eurostar early on the Thursday morning, one suitcase between them and just a couple of bits of hand luggage: this was a short getaway, John had said, not an exchange program. Bobby had made a list, of course, and John had groaned and kissed him anyway.

He'd made sure to get decent seats on the Eurostar too - standard premiere class so they had enough leg room and space and food that wasn't crap - although he'd spent most of his time with his nose in one of his texts, a hand absently stroking along Bobby's forearm as it rested on the seat arm between them.

Disembarking in Paris had been a bustle, with Bobby trying to remember his high school French and John popping open the phrase book and pointing to maps on his phone. Fortunately they arrived at the boutique hotel a little way off Avenue Victor Hugo without much more fuss, and John had promptly dived onto the bed for respite after they'd checked in. It was a nice room, all wood paneling and space and kind of grand, the kind of thing John had picked out (and Bobby had said 'Fine, that looks good' to), but he hadn't been allowed to flop down for too long before unpacking, and then hitting the pavement, mostly to gawk.

Paris was Paris. It wasn't New York, or San Francisco, or London or any of the places John had been to in the UK (which consisted entirely of Brighton, Oxford, Leeds and Hull); it had a air and atmosphere of its own, with seemingly insane traffic, vaguely amused Parisians, other gawking tourists (so they fit right in); the Metro, the sidewalk cafes, the history, the sense that everyone local was somehow better dressed - John's hand found Bobby's and he held it as they browsed maps and tourist guides and took photos and wandered around. For his nerves (and he had been nervous the last little while, all too conscious of the rings he had back in a suitcase in the hotel), he was gonna hold that hand and be proud and let everyone see it, fuck 'em if they had an issue.

That day was Midnight Mass (Bobby's idea), and John who'd been raised in faith and torn it down like everything else he used to believe in was moved by the sanctity of it, the sense of community. Respect must be paid. And Christmas morning they had lingered long in bed before John had reminded Bobby to get his ass in gear, promising that his present would come later. There was after all, an Eiffel Tower to visit, an ice rink to skate on, and a proposal to propose.

Comments

[cold_blueeyes]

Bobby snorted and threw the blankets off of both of them, sitting up. "Hey, I was just waiting for you," he commented with a fond roll of his eyes, pausing for one last kiss before climbing out of bed to hit up his suitcase. They both knew who the ice skating on the Eiffel Tower was for, after all.

[prodigalflame]

"You know, it is a great view from the bed," John commented, hands propped behind his head. He wasn't damn well talking about the view of Paris from the window. Although it did frame his boyfriend pretty nicely. Still, he too was scrambling through his gear in a far more haphazard fashion than Bobby, chucking things here and there - he'd put them all back later, of course. Later.

"Tonight," John continued conversationally, picking out winter clothes that wouldn't make him look like a cranky elf, "you want to do anything special?" John had just planned to wander until they found anywhere that was open for dinner, but even though the trip was John's idea Bobby had probably made lists. "I was thinking dinner, then ravaging you several times over, but I can always do that back home."

[cold_blueeyes]

"I don't know, it's Christmas Day. Probably not a lot open," Bobby remarked. "But I'm sure we can find somewhere. I'm happy to just walk around, explore the city." Now, if he had planned the trip it would be different, but this was John's idea, and while he had a few sights in Paris that he would like to see someday, Christmas wasn't necessarily the right day for it. He would rather just enjoy the atmosphere of the city and the company of the man he loved. Where it happened didn't much matter to him.

[prodigalflame]

"You don't want to see anything specific?" John enquired, cocking his head. Come on. This was the guy who had lists for his lists, who would probably made an incredible social planner (oh god, please) - he had to have some ideas for things-to-do-and-go-and-see. "Eiffel Tower's open, and the Louvre is open tomorrow-" he knew because he'd checked "-so if you want selfies at famous landmarks today is probably a pretty good day. I promise I won't tag your mom when you upload them to Facebook."

[cold_blueeyes]

"Not today," Bobby said quietly, smiling. "It's Christmas. Today I just want to experience the city and relax. Although we should definitely swing by the Galeries Lafayette while we're wandering. Their windows are supposed to be pretty amazing at Christmas."

[prodigalflame]

"You are pretty amazing yourself," John said, and that was that.

They got ready quickly, despite some very clear longing in John's gaze to delay things perhaps with a long, shared, shower - John had insisted on showering separately as a result because he didn't trust himself, and still slapped Bobby's ass gently as they dressed, because he couldn't help himself, and then John basically fumbled his way out onto the streets of Paris, with phone, wallet, passport and boyfriend all safely in hand.

Photos were taken - selfies, and the architecture itself, and John insisted on a lot with Bobby in them 'because you're the most gorgeous thing in the frame, sweetheart' - and John at least logged in on Facebook everywhere, mostly just to see how his family reacted. They walked down the Champs-Elysses, sight-seeing at the Grand Palais and the Place de la Concorde, caught the Metro to see Notre Dame and back to the Arc de Triomphe. They stomped, wandered, giggled and gawped their way around most of the major gardens and landmarks - anything that you didn't need to go inside to appreciate basically - before ending up at the Eiffel as the sun started to set.

John got his breath back in the first floor cafe with a coffee and a croissant and a battered paperback, able to cast his eye over Bobby on the nearby ice rink. Two rings lay nestled in a jacket pocket: he'd take Bobby up to the top floor in the lift and propose there. At least, that was the plan.

[cold_blueeyes]

Bobby was more than okay with skating alone, because it was really his thing and not John's. Hell, he was just happy that John was content to lounge at the cafe and let him do his thing, really.

And it really was something to experience, ice skating on a rink that was not only 200 feet off the ground, but was actually contained within the famous tower. It was exhilarating, and he made himself leave the ice before he was really ready, because he didn't want John to get bored.

"Okay, that was awesome," he declared as he took the seat across from John after returning his skates, his face flushed and happy. "The rink is small, but totally worth it."

[prodigalflame]

"You should have taken more time!" John exclaimed when Bobby was done, because if he knew anything, it was that Bobby probably cut his skating short because he thought John was getting bored or something. "I had my book," he said, picking it up to wave about.

"...But I guess we could come back next week," John remarked, after a moment or two to reflect. Advantages of living in London. "Or maybe next month we could do the rest of France..."

Finishing off his coffee with a gulp, John tucked the book into a backpack and hefted it on his shoulder. "You ready to go up top?" He didn't think his sensitivity to motion would be triggered by heights, exactly, but, he was still a little apprehensive on top of all the other reasons to be apprehensive.

"If I barf in the lift, you can tell people you don't know me," he teased, leading the way.

[cold_blueeyes]

"It's Christmas. I wasn't going to leave you over here all alone while I skated for hours," Bobby said, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. Because to him, it was. To do such a thing would be thoughtless and selfish, and that was simply antithesis to who he was.

"Sure, let's do it." He was excited for the view, but less so for the lift ride up, after that comment. "I just might," he murmured with a grin, following him to the line for the lift and slipping an arm around his waist. "Although they may find it a little hard to believe after watching me kiss you," he added, doing that very thing. It was a quick kiss, but not exactly what most would consider 'chaste.'

[prodigalflame]

Of course he wasn't. Just another reason to love the big dork. Not that John would have left Bobby all alone to do stuff he wanted for hours, but he would have definitely taken more time. Leisurely, and all that crap.

Snorting a little as they found their place in the assorteds that stuffed themselves into the lift, John comfortably leaning into Bobby's arm. "You don't know, they might think I'm very attractive to strangers," he teased, murmuring low and fond in Bobby's ear. The lift doors closed shut, and John's stomach gave a little anticipatory jump, which just caused him to curl closer against Bobby as if that man and that warmth and that comfort could stop his motion sickness.

But after that one moment of anxiety, nothing else happened. A few people sniffed a little at the rather obvious young couple, the lift went up smoothly, and got to the top in around eight minutes.

"Hey, you want to grab some champagne first, or take a look?" John nodded to the view - they had timed it just right, to see Paris bathed in the last rays of the winter sun, on Christmas Day.

[cold_blueeyes]

"Let's look first. The champagne isn't going anywhere," Bobby answered. It was beautiful up here, and if they stopped for champagne they might miss the last of the daylight. They could enjoy the sunset, get some champagne, and then get another look at nighttime Paris from up here before heading back to the hotel.

[prodigalflame]

"You can show me what you got me for Christmas over champagne," John replied, but inside his heart was racing. He definitely wanted Bobby to go first in the gift-giving because John doubted very much his boyfriend had gotten him anything as significant as an engagement ring. Curling an arm loosely around Bobby's waist, he steered them both over to the railing to look out at the city spread below them, the last rays of the sun streaming across the landscape.

"...This looks amazing," John murmured. "Doesn't it?" He moved his hand to gently ruffle Bobby's hair.

[cold_blueeyes]

"Sounds good." He leaned against the rail as they made their way to the edge of the platform, just soaking in the view and smiling slightly as John's hand moved over his hair. "It really does. It's almost unreal, you know? One of those sights you see on a postcard but just can't believe is a real place." He looked around for a moment more and murmured, "But here it is."

[prodigalflame]

"It does," John agreed, for once content to just be quiet and drink in the sight for a while. "And here we are." He moved his hand from Bobby's hair, smoothing it down his back, to rest it on the railing, and was quiet once more before he nudged Bobby slightly with his elbow. "....We could always do Rome next month. Or Madrid. Or Berlin." Europe was so damn small in a way that most trips were about as difficult as taking the Amtrak between New York and D.C. - and with far better service, probably.

"I bought a postcard in the gift shop to send back to the family. Picked up a spare for you, if you need it." Shove a French stamp on the back and hey, one vaguely pleased sister would soon eventuate. If the international post wasn't crap.

While he was nervous, it wasn't the nerves delaying the proposal. He had planned to do it at the bar, after Bobby had given him his gift, but with the city spread out below them, and the view, and the light in Bobby's hair...."God, you look so gorgeous, sweetheart," John murmured, fishing around in his jacket pocket to ensure he could at least hold the ring. Would he propose then and there? Honestly, he simply didn't know.

[cold_blueeyes]

"We could. I mean, what's the point of living in London if you don't see a bunch of Europe, right?" And there were a lot of places in Europe that he'd always dreamed of seeing. Now he could, quite easily and affordably, so he should.

He looked over at John at his comment and smiled, both pleased and a little embarrassed by the observation. "So do you," he said softly, with eyes only for John now despite the vista spread below them.

[prodigalflame]

John audibly gulped. Was he? After everything? After parents and penance and Westchester and Alcatraz and prison and all the rest, could he believe that he was capable of happiness? That he deserved it? For a second he searched himself; yeah - he could. Things might go south: they might go terrible, and Bobby might leave him, but John wasn't about to refuse to try in the first place. (And if it did all go south, at least then it wasn't his fault.)

"Well, that's good," he managed, and swallowed again, "because I, you know, because - I have loved you since almost the time we met, and I am always going to love you, and whenever I meet someone - since the time I was fifteen, my only thought has been that this person is not as funny as you, or as kind as you, or as amazing as you. You've always seen something in me that I don't quite understand, something better than anger and ash. And considering I have always seen a wonder in you that you don't seem to understand either, the solution - to my mind - is that we keep hanging around each other until we get it. That's probably gonna be a long time because I'm pretty dense, so...."

Exhaling, he flashed Bobby an extremely nervous smile, got down on one knee, and pulled out both rings from his pocket, and finding the one with blue gemstones, offered it to Bobby between two fingers. "So what I'm asking is would you do me the honour of letting me become Mr. John Drake?" There was never any question in John's mind that Bobby would not prefer John to take his name: family was very important to Bobby, and he was a traditionalist at heart. As for Allerdyce? Well, John had had many names over the years. This one sounded cute, at least.

[cold_blueeyes]

Bobby listened to what John was saying with a warm, fond smile, not yet comprehending that this was THE speech--at least, not until John dropped to one knee and offered him a ring. His eyes widened and he stared for a long moment, unable to formulate words. Was this really happening to him? Was John seriously proposing to him at the top of the Eiffel Tower?

And oughtn't he give his answer one of these days? "Uh...yes." He laughed incredulously, still stunned that this was happening. All of his life he'd expected to be on the giving end of any marriage proposals. "Yes, of course!" And it was sweet that John had gone all traditional with the proposal, kneeling and all, but right now he wanted his now-fiancé (wow) on his feet so he could hug him and kiss him in front of every-damn-body up here.

Of course, most of the people surrounding them didn't seem to care too much about their gender, and they got a round of applause as Bobby accepted.

[prodigalflame]

John was actually blushing (John Allerdyce, scourge of emotions and romance and killer of way too many people, blushing) when he got up on his feet, grinning and near bashful and all long hair that had to be tucked back behind his ears so he wasn't looking like the bad end of a broom.

Kissing, yes, okay, that was happening, and applause - which just made John grin more, and turn around to take a bit of a bow, ironic and posed. "Now put on the damn ring, dumbass," he told his boyfriend-no-fiancé, sliding it onto the correct finger, and then offering the matching ring with garnets so Bobby could do the honours to him. "A pair, see?"

It was only then that he actually breathed, and started to relax. "...Do you need a drink? I need a drink. Champagne! Yes." And with that, he dragged Bobby off to the champagne bar.

[cold_blueeyes]

Bobby hardly got a moment to admire his new ring, much less the matching one for John, before he was being hauled to the champagne bar grinning like an idiot. "...I can't believe you just proposed to me," he said with a giddy chuckle once they'd found their seats.

[prodigalflame]

"What did you think I was gonna do?" John asked him, easing himself onto a stool at the bar. The staff had been kind enough to have two glasses of champagne ready, considering they'd watched the proposal too. "Let you get away?" he teased, admiring the ring on his finger, and then the one on Bobby's, allowing the other mutant to actually look at them side by side. "And I mean it, you know. Mr. Drake and everything." The other stuff he didn't go over because he didn't want to have to admit it all over again.

But he would. If he was forced to. If Bobby needed to hear it, then he'd say it. End of.

[cold_blueeyes]

"I don't know, not propose to me on the top of the Eiffel Tower on Christmas Day," Bobby replied with a shake of his head and a grin. He leaned in to get a better look at both of the rings, absolutely loving the ones John had picked out, his unadorned hand holding John's as he inspected the red gems that matched the blue ones on his ring. "These are amazing," he admitted, and looked up at John, his smile going a little rueful. "You sure you're ready to become a Drake?" He had to ask. He knew John's feelings on his family. The idea that John would so willingly become one himself, even by marriage...he had to be sure. They could keep their own names, or become the Allerdyces, or pick a completely different name that just belonged to them and their new family. There were lots of options other than Drake.

[prodigalflame]

"Well, you're a big traditional romantic, so I went with what felt right for that." The dork was left unspoken for once. The way in which Bobby leaned closer to get a look at their rings side by side, even the touch of Bobby's hand did the usual thing Bobby's affection and presence did to him, and John smirked to himself. "Yes," he affirmed, free hand grabbing a champagne glass and taking a sip: "I am more than ready to become a Drake. I figure I can't be accused of stealing you away if I'm joining the family, right?" Besides, he genuinely liked the idea. "And I do honestly like the idea of taking your name."

[cold_blueeyes]

He was a traditional romantic, and while the shock of the whole event was still wearing off, Bobby knew he would treasure the memory forever, because it was exactly the sort of clichéd, ridiculously romantic gesture that he adored.

He smiled as he glanced down traced the abstract 'X' on John's ring, knowing there was no way that was by accident, and loving that little secret nod to who they were incorporated into even the rings. Then he looked back up at John and squeezed his hand. "I like it too," he murmured, and he was pretty sure his cheeks would be sore later because he hadn't stopped smiling since John had proposed, and he didn't see that changing anytime soon. "John and Bobby Drake." He swallowed, his own words echoing through his mind. "God, why does that sound so right?" he asked, breaking into another wide grin and then leaning over to kiss John again.

[prodigalflame]

And it was that side of Bobby - and that side of himself - that John cherished. With this guy, he could do ridiculously romantic. With this guy, he could do anything. And from the way Bobby looked down at the rings, and got it - got it - things had worked even better than he could have imagined.

"...Because it does?" John suggested, after the kiss was done - although he took his sweet time about ending it. "We've always been complementary," he suggested, with a smile in his eyes as he toasted Bobby with his champagne. And that was certainly true, in many ways. "You just made me realise how much I wanted the picket fence and the suburban husband a long time ago. So I'm very glad you said 'yes'," he added, letting just a bit of the anxiety that had been eating him up out in the rueful tone and twist to his mouth.

[cold_blueeyes]

Bobby took a sip of champagne and looked at John with a mild and fond exasperation. "Did you really doubt I would?" he asked softly, reaching out to stroke John's cheek. "I love you. I want all of that too, and I want it with you." He knew it wouldn't be easy, it wouldn't be just sex and domestic bliss. The past year had made that very clear. They were opposites in many ways, and while that did make them complement each other well, it also led to a lot of friction between them. But every fight, every misunderstanding, every hurt feeling and annoyance--they were all worth it when he got to come home to this man every night, to take care of him and be taken care of by him.