[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]

"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.

[prodigalflame]

"...No, not really." Deep in his heart, John had known that Bobby would say yes, and had known that it would be good, and that they could make it work. But too often, all the other woes and fears drowned out that reassuring certainty. Bobby wasn't the type to go for a year in a relationship that could be this fiery without thinking he was in for the long haul: he wouldn't have gotten John's hopes up if he hadn't thought it was working.

Leaning into Bobby's touch, he curled fingers around Bobby's wrist to gently pluck his hand away so he could plant a kiss on Bobby's palm. "You're just lucky I find accountants hot."

[cold_blueeyes]

Bobby was glad to hear that the doubts hadn't been all that sincere. Anxiety about such a momentous question was normal, but if John truly doubted how he felt, how committed, devoted he was to this, to them, then he was doing something wrong.

He chuckled and shook his head a little. "Yeah, you'll love watching me leave for work every morning in a suit and tie, I'm sure." He sipped his champagne and smiled at John, turning his hand in John's to lace their fingers together. "I'm lucky in a lot of ways, and most of them have to do with you. I can't wait to spend my life with you, John-boy," he said quietly, eyes wide and full of love and sincerity as they stared into John's.

[prodigalflame]

"You'll love having someone who can make you lunch every morning. And cook you dinner when you come home." John's tone was amused, but as much as he enjoyed the banter, it was too easy to actually be quiet, and just lean a little closer and marvel at those eyes looking into his.

"...I think I told you once, I wanted to be your guy. Your normal everyday kind of guy." And if he hadn't, he should have. "Thank you for making me the happiest man in the world, Frosty." While John didn't grin the way Bobby did, the signs of his contentment were there for anyone who knew him to see, and for those who didn't, the sheer ease he was with Bobby - the closeness they shared, the familiarity of their body language - was a fairly clear giveaway.