Will took a deep breath and fixed his stupid little bow tie. Nico would be coming home soon, and everything had to be perfect. He checked things off his mental to-do list. Flowers: check. Edible stuff: check. Oddly-romantic death metal: check. Suit that would make Nico drool over him: check. And most importantly, the ring: check.
"I'm home, babe!" Nico called out. He trudged into the room, a plastic bag hanging by the crook of his elbow. "I bought more Pop-Tarts!"
Will's heart was in his throat. "Hey, Nico, c'mere for a second!" He heard Nico kick his shoes off and appear in the doorway. Nico's eyes narrowed.
"Since when can you cook?"
"What time is it?"
"Seven fifteen."
"About three hours ago, then," Will said smartly. Nico rolled his eyes and sat down. They ate in silence. Will's collar felt tight. He couldn't tell whether or not his shortness of breath was from the collar choking him or his nervousness.
"Nico..." Will began slowly. Nico looked up.
"Yeah...?"
"Will opened the ring box under the table. He got down on one knee and held it out to Nico. "Marry me, you perfect motherfucker," he said quickly, and immediately regretted it.
Nico's expression was unreadable. Then, his lips spread out in a smile. He laughed, "I thought yo'd never ask, you idiot! Yes!"
"What?" Will squeaked.
"I'll marry you, you douche-bag! It took you long enough to ask!" Nico threw himself into Will's arms.
Nailed it, Will thought smugly.
