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They forgot to close the curtains before they went to bed.
It’s the second thing Bradley notices when he wakes up. The first is the fact that his boyfriend, his wonderful, gorgeous boyfriend, looks absolutely stunning in the sun.
Their sheets are silk. Bradley has never been more glad that Jake fought him on cotton, because the fabric curls around him in a way that looks so perfect that Bradley barely believes this is an actual sight in front of him. Jake’s skin is stark against the white sheets, his arms buried underneath the pillow he lays on. His back slopes down, rises and falls with every breath he takes, bare skin trailing all the way down to his lower back, where (unfortunately) the rest of his body is covered by their blanket.
Bradley reaches a hand out, hovers over Jake’s ribs. He skirts them over his shoulders, his neck, counting the vertebrae down and repeating.
Oh, God. Bradley really wants to marry him.
He used to think marriage was never in the cards for him, that he’d eventually just burn out like so many of his colleagues. Even during those first months being with Jake, marriage was such a far away concept that he never thought to entertain it until… well, until now. It’s an unconventional thought, now, but Bradley and Jake are already as unconventional as any couple can get: what’s a lackluster proposal going to do to them?
Bradley really wants to marry Jake. He knows that much. Under the morning sun and half covered by silk sheets, Bradley really wants to make him his husband. In sickness and in health and everything that comes with it.
He feels a touch to his cheek, comes back to reality with Jake looking at him through bleary eyes and an arm outstretched.
“Forgot to close the blinds,” Jake rasps, cupping Bradley’s jaw.
Bradley almost blurts it out right then and there. Marry me. Be mine forever. “Yeah,” he says instead. He presses a kiss to the inside of Jake’s wrist.
Jake considers him for a moment. He shifts closer, his foot reaching out to intertwine between Bradley’s and tug them closer. “What’s on your mind?”
“We should get married,” Bradley responds. Oh, fuck it.
He’s not taking it back. He knows what he wants, but maybe he shouldn’t have just said that out of the blue.
He doesn’t even get to explain himself before Jake is kissing him aggressively, turning him on his back and pressing him into the mattress with the rough kiss. It’s too hard for what the situation calls for, but Bradley is pleasantly ruffled when Jake pulls back and glares at him.
“What was that for?” Bradley asks.
“Sorry,” Jake says mildly. He swings a leg over to straddle Bradley’s waist. “I just thought you were proposing to me in bed when I’m not even fully awake yet.”
Bradley’s hands move to his hips instinctively. “That’s exactly what I did.”
Jake pulls him into another hard kiss. Bradley is very much enjoying this system.
“It’s too early for this,” Jake says against his lips, falling off of his lap and back to his place beside Bradley. Jake closes his eyes and wraps an arm around Bradley pointedly, as if trying to urge him to do the same.
Bradley still hasn’t heard his answer. He knows what it is, he thinks, but he really does need Jake to respond to him soon or else his brain will start atrophying in his skull.
“But you’ll marry me, right?” Bradley prods, pulling Jake close. “Eventually?”
He gets an unnecessary bite on his shoulder for his troubles. Jake wipes his saliva away before he answers. “Ask me again in the morning.” Jake pinches his stomach, laughing when Bradley jumps and swats at his ass.
“Marry me, Jake,” Bradley says—whines, really—pressing a fleeting kiss to Jake’s cheek and squishing his face. It’s a very pretty sight. “Please?”
“Jesus, darling—yes, sure, okay, I’ll marry you,” Jake relents, craning his head away. “Please, let me sleep.”
Bradley finally leaves him be, letting Jake bury his head into the crook of his neck even though his hairs are tickling the side of his jaw. They’re getting married. They’re fiancé’s, now. Oh my god.
“Hey, Jake,” Bradley whispers, because he has to tell someone about this—and who better than the man he just became fiances with. “We’re getting married.”
“That is a thing that just happened, yeah,” Jake tells him. “Sleep, Bradley.”
“We’re going to be husbands.”
“That does come with it as well.”
Bradley pauses. He paws around for one of Jake’s hands, entangling their fingers when he finds it. He imagines the feel of cold metal against his fingers, now. It’s a very distracting thing to think about.
“Do you want a ring?”
Jake groans. Bradley’s being flipped onto his back and kissed into the mattress for the second time that morning, Jake’s hand pinning his at the side of his head.
“Of course I want a damn ring, Bradshaw,” Jake says heatedly, biting Bradley’s bottom lip roughly. He holds himself above Bradley and glares at him. “But I’d also like at least twelve hours of sleep, because it’s the weekend and I have nowhere to be except in bed with my boyfriend. Understood?”
Bradley grins up at him, stealing another kiss before settling back into the pillows. “Fiancé.”
Jake rolls his eyes, kisses him firmly. “Fiancé,” he amends against his lips, giving him two last pecks before collapsing on top of him. “Now, please be quiet so I can sleep.”
“Okay,” Bradley says. He actually means it this time, because his eyes are already drooping and he’s about ready to go back to sleep himself with his fiancé on his chest. His fiancé. His soon-to-be-husband.
He’s never, ever going to get tired of thinking that.
He’s almost asleep, and Jake’s breathing has just about evened out when the silence is broken again. This time it isn’t by Bradley.
“Also, I want a diamond.”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“I want it really fucking flashy.”
“Of course, Jake.”
“Tomorrow. I want it tomorrow.”
“Whatever you want, baby.”