Work Text:
“Owen.” Curt mumbled, half into his pillow.
“Yes, love?” Owen responded, sitting up against the headboard. He was beginning to feel the stiffness in his neck that usually meant it was time to go to sleep, but he was nearly done his chapter, and had hoped to finish it before the night was through. It seemed Curt had other plans, which Owen was not overall thrilled about, but far be it from him to deny Curt Mega his attention, especially not when he was half asleep and adorable.
“I wanna marry you.” Curt said. Owen dropped his book on his lap in shock, all plans of finishing a chapter forgotten. Curt had his full attention now. He saved his place quickly before setting it down on the nightstand and shuffling down so he was lying next to Curt.
“What was that, darling?” He asked, bringing a hand up to rest on Curt’s cheek. Curt laughed and Owen melted a little further towards him. He loved Curt’s laugh. He loved the rest of him too, of course, but joy suited his partner better than anything else Owen had ever seen him in.
“You heard me just fine, baby.” Curt retorted, “I wanna marry you. No, wait, hold on! I’m going to marry you. I’m gonna be your fuckin’ husband, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me!” He challenged, trailing off into sleepy giggles.
“Curt,” Owen sighed, pulling Curt into his arms, “You know I love you, but we can’t. It’s impossible. It's illegal.” Curt huffed against his collarbone.
“Who cares if it’s legal? You know what’s illegal? Killing people. We do that shit all the time, how’s marriage worse than that?” He grumbled.
“It’s not. It shouldn’t be at least, but you know how it is.” Owen soothed, “Even if we could, the agencies wouldn’t let us. Spouses are a liability, remember?”
“Don’t you dare say that! As if you could be a liability. You could never do any-damn-thing but make me stronger. I’m a better spy when I’m with you, and you make me want to be a better person. Just for you. So I’m going to marry you, whether the government likes it or not.” Curt defied.
“Ah - but Curt, the government does rather have to like it, marriage being a legal contract and all.”
“But-”
“Not only that, unless you fancy a court wedding, the church is going to have to like it as well, and that’s not bloody likely, my love. Isn’t having each other enough? We don’t need to risk more than we already have for this.” Owen chided him.
“I’m willing to risk it, Owen!” Curt exclaimed, “I’d be willing to risk anything to show you how much I love you, and I thought you felt the same.”
“I have you here with me every night, love. How could I ever need more than that from you to prove you love me?” Owen asked. As much as he wanted to throw caution to the wind and agree, live out all his reckless dreams of Curt waiting for him at the altar in his best suit, of a ring on his finger for the rest of his life, he couldn’t. Curt would know it too, if he weren’t half asleep. As it was, he looked terribly affronted by Owen’s speech, and propped himself up on his elbow to answer.
“Fuck the government, and fuck the church. We don’t need either of them to tell us shit. We live half our lives outside the law anyway, right? So we’ll get married outside it too.” He announced.
“Curt, I...how do you figure we do that?” Owen asked. As much as his rational mind wanted to dismiss the possibility, something in his heart begged him to hear Curt out.
“Tati can marry us, and we’ll do it right here, in the home we built together.” Curt declared. “We can buy rings to wear when we’re home, just around each other; the rest of the world will never need to know. We can make it work, Owen, just say yes.”
“It wouldn’t be official,” Owen warned, “Nobody else would ever recognise it. If I got hurt, if I died, you wouldn’t be treated as my family.”
“I know, honey, I know.” Curt sighed. “It’s okay. I don’t need a piece of paper from some court-ordained pencil pusher, and I can break into your damn hospital room myself. I just want to call you my husband. I want you to be mine, to have and to hold, all of that.” He declared, looking down at Owen almost desperately. “That’s it. Is it too much to ask?”
“Curt…”
“So, let’s do this, ok? Let’s just do it.”
“Curt…”
“Yeah, Owen?”
“What sort of a proposal do you call that, you bastard?” Owen asked with mock offence, shoving Curt's shoulder gently. He could feel tears dripping down his cheeks, and feared that might offset the tone a bit, but he didn’t care.
“Owen!” Curt said with a laugh, falling back into bed dramatically. “I pour my heart out to you, and that’s all I get? No, I changed my mind, I don’t want to marry you after all.”
“No love, it’s too late to go back on it now. You promised me a proposal? I want you down on one knee, right now, and maybe I’ll consider it.” Owen said with a grin at his partner.
“Ugh, fine! Can’t believe I’m proposing to such a drama queen.” Curt groaned, rolling out of bed with exaggerated effort before dropping to one knee. “Owen Carvour, you are the best man, and the best spy, I have ever had the pleasure of working or sleeping with.”
“Oh, well done, love, that’s very romantic.”
“Shut up asshole. I love you more than anything, and there’s nobody else I’ll ever want at my back. I never want to spend another day without you. Owen Carvour, will you marry me?” Curt said, the sarcasm fading out to pure love at the last line. Owen tried in vain to pretend he wasn’t crying in earnest at hearing those words in Curt’s voice when he answered.
“Yes, Curt Mega. I will marry you. Of course I will. There is nothing I’d like more than to be your unofficial, illegal husband.” He said through the sob building treacherously in his throat.
“Good.” Curt said, jumping back into bed and throwing himself into Owen’s waiting arms, “Because you’re the only unofficial, illegal husband I’d ever want.” He gently brushed a tear from Owen’s face with his thumb before covering him in kisses.
“Well I should certainly hope so,” Owen said around Curt’s kisses, “Because I’m the only one you’re ever going to get, Mr. Mega, I’ll tell you that. You’re never getting rid of me now.”
“Good. Perfect. I never want to be anywhere you aren’t anyway.” Curt responded emphatically, before adding on in wonder, “My fiance.”
“My love.” Owen said, with a gentle smile.
“No, no say it out loud. Trust me on this.” Curt insisted, resting against Owen’s shoulder. Owen brought a hand up to hold his face, tilting it up so he could look into Curt’s eyes as he answered.
“My fiance.” He echoed, feeling the rightness of it settle around his heart. His Curt, forever and always. He drew Curt up into a kiss, whispering it against his lips, his cheek, pressing it against his jaw and down his neck, again and again and again. “My fiance.”