He Makes Me Quiet

Chapter 1

Dorian was being a nice boyfriend and putting away Gansey's clean laundry when he found it neatly tucked into the corner of the drawer where Gansey kept his rows of neatly folded, colour-organised socks.

"What the—?"

But, if he was being honest with himself, it was quite obvious what it was— a small, gold and blue velvet ring box. Antique, expensive, and very well taken care of. He fiddled with it for a moment, trying to decide if he wanted to open it and spoil the surprise. But, in the end, he found he had enough self restraint to just tuck it back into the drawer and walk away.

However, the thing was, he simply couldn't stop thinking about it. About what it meant.

They'd talked about marriage in a 'someday' kind of way. An 'after we've graduated from college' and an 'after we get established in our careers' kind of a way. Not in any sort of concrete way. Not in a way that had Dorian any semblance of prepared for it.

They had almost talked about it properly last summer. Dorian had been so certain that the romantic picnic dinner had been a set-up to a proposal, but Gansey had just blushed and mumbled something about having thought about it sometimes but 'No, Jack, not today.'

They really didn't need a curse or magic or prophecies to tell them that they were it for each other. They never had. But marriage? They were only 25!

So Dorian did exactly what he was often known to do when he needed to talk things out. He called up Tristan.

"Hello?"

There was no point to sidestepping or mincing words, so Dorian jumped right in. "Has Gansey said anything to you about marriage?"

"Well, that would be pretty odd. You know. Seeing as he's probably planning to marry you, not me."

"Very funny, Thorne," Dorian scoffed.

"And 'hello' to you, too. What's all this about marriage? Did he propose?"

"No. But. Well," Dorian toyed with a fraying edge of the yellow sweater he'd stolen off Gansey years ago. "I found a ring box. In with his socks. Tucked in the corner. All neat and organised like you know he is."

"Oh," Tristan breathed, sending a small crackle of static across the phone line. "And you're sure—?"

"I'm sure. I didn't open it, but I'm sure."

"Well, he hasn't said anything about it to me. Do you want me to ask Ronan? He's always been tighter with Gansey than I'll ever be."

"No," Dorian said quickly.

If Ronan found out Dorian suspected something, he'd definitely tell Gansey. Dorian didn't want Gansey to find out he knew, and he definitely didn't want Gansey to find out like that.

"Do you want to marry him?" Tristan asked after a pause.

"I—" Dorian started, then hesitated. "I guess I always thought of it as far away. We always talked about it as this potential thing far off in the future."

"Dorian, you've been together for over seven years. It is the far future, now."

"What do you think?"

Tristan laughed over the line, high and bright and warm. "It's not about what I think, Dorian. Are you ready to get married?"

"I'm ready to be with Gansey for the rest of my life, if that's what you mean."

Dorian smiled as he spoke. It was the truth, and he knew it. He felt the initial panic dissipate and a warm calm settle down where it had been.

"Well. That was so sweet it gave me cavities. But I think it's your answer."