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Alastor smoothed his pearl-white waistcoat against his black dress shirt and smiled at himself in the mirror. He ruffled his curls a little before he stepped out of the bedroom. He went downstairs and perked up when he saw Vincent was draped on the couch with a pillow over his face.
“Vincent, why are you home?” Alastor asked curiously. Vincent mumbled a little and waved his hand at him. “And is that going to happen every day or just today?” Vincent mumbled again. Alastor went over and pulled the pillow up, tilting his head.
“Give it,” Vincent insisted.
“Why are you home? You said you wouldn’t be home for another hour,” Alastor reminded. He was surprised. He had a whole plan to surprise Vincent with a nice, romantic dinner for the two of them.
“I needed a break,” Vincent admitted. He gestured to his jacket on the arm of the couch. “Look at this.” Alastor picked up the jacket and looked it over, spotting a hole with loose threads along the right sleeve.
“And who did this?” he asked curiously.
"That idiot that’s the normal girl is training,” Vincent complained. “It got stuck on a hanger.” He huffed. “And then, the new intern messed up my coffee order. And one of the extras for our latest sponsor slot nearly killed themselves when tripped and knocked some of our knives all over the place.” He grabbed another pillow and put it over his head as he yelled into. Alastor sat down on the arm of the couch and reached down to run his fingers through Vincent’s hair.
“And you came home because you wanted to relax,” Alastor nodded slightly. “Well, I was going to make dinner. Would you like to help me?” Vincent looked up at him and nodded a little. “Alright, come on.” He patted Vincent’s shoulder before he stood up. Vincent got to his feet and followed into the kitchen. He leaned against the wall as Alastor got out some peppers. Alastor held them up and put them on the cutting board before giving Vincent a nod.
“Diced or minced?” Vincent asked softly as he made his way over.
“Diced,” Alastor said, handing him a knife. He grabbed a pan and put it on the stove before adding sausage and spices to cook. He smiled at Vincent. “Isn’t this fun?” Vincent shrugged a little as he cut up the peppers. “You know, I had a whole evening planned for us. And I suppose it can’t hurt to tell you what I had in mind, right?”
“You planned something?” Vincent tilted his head.
“Mhm,” Alastor focused on his cooking. “I wanted to make you a nice dinner. Candles, a little music. I thought you’d enjoy it.” He hummed. “And, I thought we might dance a little after dinner. And we could go outside and drink under the stars for a bit.”
“How ‘bout we get married?” Vincent asked suddenly. Alastor blinked and looked at him.
“Beg pardon?” Alastor was quite confused.
“Married,” Vincent said as he put the knife down. “You and me. Let’s get married.”
“Um,” Alastor let out a breath. “First, where did that come from? And second, that is definitely not how you propose to someone.” He let out a little chuckle as he stirred the food.
“I’m serious,” Vincent stated. “Let’s do it. Right now. We can go down to the courthouse and get married.”
“I’m in the middle of cooking,” Alastor pointed out.
“Finish cooking, we’ll eat, then we’ll go,” Vincent shrugged.
“You had a very bad day today, didn’t you?” Alastor mused as he added the peppers to the pan. “It’s very sweet. I love you. I do. But…marriage?”
“What? You don’t wanna get married to me?” Vincent asked curiously. Alastor opened his mouth to answer, but he simply shrugged in response. “You don’t wanna marry me.”
“I didn’t say that,” Alastor said quickly.
“You may as well have,” Vincent pointed out. Alastor chose not to respond as he went to the cabinet and got out some rice. Vincent grabbed a pot and filled it with water before putting it on the stove by the pan. “Why don’t you wanna marry me?”
“You’re putting words in my mouth,” Alastor scolded. “Don’t do that. I hate that.”
“Then let’s go get married. Right now. Fuck dinner,” Vincent insisted. “We can finish it when we get back.”
“Fine,” Alastor said as he turned off the stove. “Lead the way, Mr. Terrible Proposal. And by the way, you don’t even have a ring or anything.”
“You think I don’t have a ring?” Vincent immediately went out of the kitchen and ran upstairs. He came back as Alastor went to the front door. “Let’s go. I have a ring. Believe me. I have a ring.”
“Where is it?” Alastor asked curiously. Vincent held up a box and popped it open, showing off the flawless, golden wedding bands that were resting inside. “And how do you even know it fits me?” Vincent sighed as he pulled one of the bands out and took Alastor’s hand. He slipped the ring onto his finger and smiled triumphantly before putting the other band on his own finger.
“Can we go now?” Vincent asked.
“No, we can’t,” Alastor said as he blocked the door. Vincent groaned dramatically.
“What the hell?” he asked in disbelief. “Let’s just go and get married and then we can do this whole romantic thing you wanted to do tonight.”
“Vincent,” Alastor said firmly. He let out a soft breath. “We can’t.” Vincent opened his mouth to argue, but he stopped himself when he realized he was right. “But it’s nice that you wanted to.” He looked at the ring on his finger. “Can I at least keep this? It’s nice. And it’s a perfect fit.”
“Well, I did have it sized,” Vincent admitted with a chuckle. “You remember when I had you try on those rings for that thing at work?” Alastor rolled his eyes. “What? Did you know?”
“Well, I knew it wasn’t for some marriage commercial,” Alastor pointed out. “I’m not stupid.” He moved closer to Vincent and pecked his lips. “We’ll just have to settle for the promise of marriage, hm? We’ll be permanently betrothed. Can we go finish dinner?”
“Yes,” Vincent nodded. He followed Alastor into the kitchen, hugging him from behind. “Is this helping?”
“Sure,” Alastor chuckled. “Can we work on that sad excuse of a proposal? Because that is not how you propose to me, Vincent.”
“How do I propose to you?” Vincent asked as he kissed over Alastor’s shoulder gently. “Flowers? Champagne? I carve the proposal into a man’s chest for you?”
“Vincent, you didn’t ask me like a man who wants to marry me,” Alastor pointed out. “You asked me like you were trying to add something to a grocery list. You have to put emotion and care into your words. The place and the gifts don’t matter if the words mean nothing.” He sighed softly as he covered the pot of water that was now boiling with rice in it. “The words have to mean something, you understand?” Vincent nodded and rested his chin on Alastor’s shoulder.
“I love you,” Vincent said softly.
“I know,” Alastor smiled. “I love you too.”