Love Like You

[missninjastar]

Title: Love Like You
Author: missninjastar
Pairing: Tom/Mark
Rating: PG
Word Count: 8,700
Summary: Tom has a series of surprises planned for Mark, and Mark has no idea why.
Content/Warning: Strong language, tiniest bit of angst ever
Disclaimer: Don't know them, don't own anything but the plotline and the writing oooo
Author's Notes: I've been writing this one for entirely too long, but I love it wow. It's pretty long, and I kept being really indecisive with it, but I'm pretty happy with it. I've also got a short Ryden and a short Tomark in the works, so hopefully they'll be put up sometime soon (idk though i have a lot of school work). But in the meantime, I hope people enjoy this! (Also tell me what you think, yes?)



I feel a thud on my chest which roughly translates as an earthquake in my dream world. It caused mayhem. The city’s post office fell down.

A second thud, and my first thought is ‘you’ve gotta be shitting me.’ No one expected the aftershocks to be so bad but my empire was better prepared this time. No buildings were destroyed.

A third thud and I know something fishy is going on.

A forth, and I know it must be aliens.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

I groggily open my eyes, immediately met with the bright light of an early July morning. I close them again, turning my face into my pillow and groaning. Somewhere in the distance I hear birds chirping. It’s all very Disney, and I’d probably enjoy it a little if I didn’t turn into the devil’s reincarnate from dawn to 11am.

Thud.

I crack my eyes open again. Tom’s kneeling at my left, his pillow in hand. He hits me with it again, so I weakly shove him away and he smiles widely when he realizes I’m awake.

“Morning!” He chirps, disgustingly upbeat for the ungodly hour. Disgustingly upbeat for Tom.

“Fuck off,” I mumble, turning over onto my stomach and closing my eyes again. If Tom wants to start waking up at the crack of dawn every morning, good, cool, I’m all for it. Just as long as he never wakes me up in the process.

I feel weight shift next to me and realize it’s Tom getting off of the bed. Good, now I can go back to sleep.

Nope, no, of course not. He’s ripped the curtains open, blinding light filling the room through the window. Of course the rising sun shines directly in through the window, directly onto our bed. Of course. “Fuck.”

“Aw c’mon, don’t be like that.” Tom says, crawling back onto the bed. He sits cross-legged on his side of the bed and stares down at me, the tiniest of smile on his face.

“Why the fuck are you so chipper this morning, did Travis hide his weed in the coffee machine again?” I ask, rubbing some of the sleep out of the one eye that’s not hidden in my pillow.

“What do you mean? I can be happy without drugs. Why wouldn’t I be happy? It’s a gorgeous day outside; I woke up with the most gorgeous man at my side…” He smiles more, and I groan and turn my head away from him.

“Whatever you want, you can have it. Fucking, all of it. Take everything I own. Just please, leave me alone to sleep for a few more hours.” I beg, shifting slightly to get more comfortable and attempting sleep for the third time.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. We have plans today, Mark. Important plans.” He tells me, getting off the bed again. For 30 naïve seconds I think he’s left me alone to sleep, but my bubble is burst as he rips the blankets off of me and drops them to the ground at the foot of the bed.

“Oh my god. Fuck you, and everything you stand for.” I shout half-heartedly, curling in on myself. It’s not really his fault I refuse to rise from my pit until noon most days. It seriously is a problem.

“Mark, c’mon, get up or I’m going to have to take drastic measures.” Tom warns, but I’m pretty sure no matter what he does to me it will not get me out of this bed. He sighs. “Fine, but just know I didn’t want it to come to this.” I hear soft footsteps padding along the carpeted floor, going out of the room. It’s silent for a few minutes. I just begin to drift off again, not really registering the soft footsteps returning to the room. There’s another minute of silence, and I assume Tom has just given up, but suddenly I feel water on the back of my neck. Hard water. Ice cold water.

I shoot up, moving faster than should be legal at whatever time it is in the morning, and Tom just dumps a jug of ice over me. The cubes slide down me, into my lap, some go down my shirt, and I stand up just as quick as I sat up. Droplets of water fall out of my hair, and I stand there, soaked through, freezing cold, wide awake, staring at Tom, who stares back at me, big grin on his face and that boyish, mischievous glint in his eyes.

I react fast, grabbing a handful of Tom’s shirt, and quickly his smile disappears, instead begging me not to do it, to spare him, but I just lean down and grab a handful of the ice that had begun melting on the bed. He’s wriggling too much for me to get it down his shirt, so instead I manoeuvre us so I’m behind him, my arms around him, and shove the ice down his pyjama pants, keeping my arms around him so he can’t get away.

“Fuck, fuck! Mark, you bastard, that’s cold!” He cries, but there’s laughter in his voice. He squirms and tries to get away, but I keep my grasp on him firm.

“Y’know, most people wake up their other halves with a cup of coffee, or even just a kiss, not a fucking ice bucket poured on them.” I tell him, letting him go. He doesn’t go far, just turns around in my arms, putting his around my neck. He shakes his leg slightly and I hear the thud of the ice hitting the floor.

“I tried that, but you were stone cold! For a moment, I worried you might have died in your sleep, but then you farted and laughed at yourself, and I was less worried.” He smiles, shrugging. I notice he’s swaying us from side to side slightly, and I wonder why he’s being so cheery and affectionate this morning. Well, as much affectionate as someone can be after they just tipped ice over you.

“I had a dream I had my own empire. I made my slaves carve a statue of you in the town centre. It was fucking massive.” I tell him, and he smiles more.

“Like my dick, then?” he asks, smile turning into a smirk.

“I thought it was romantic, that even my subconscious makes sure you’re with me somehow, at all times, but no, you have to make a comparison between your genitals and my tribute to you.” Tom laughs, that giggle laugh of his, all childish and free, kind of like Tom himself. I smile at him, pull him closer to me, and he stops laughing and looks at me, the tiny, absentminded smile back again. There’s something deep set in his eyes, and he clears his throat before pulling back.

“C’mon, go get dressed; we have a lot of stuff to do today. I have a schedule and everything.” He says, walking over to the closet. I sigh.

“You’re not going to tell me what we’re doing today, are you?” I ask, not moving from where he left me.

“Nope, it’s all a surprise.” He replies, not looking up from whatever he’s doing with some shoes. I sigh again. His face scrunches up, and he shifts as he looks up at me. “Dude, I think my balls have like, shrunk to the size of peanuts or something from the ice.”

“God, I love it when you talk dirty to me baby.” I deadpan, and he just smiles wide before turning back to the closet.

++++++++++++

“What are you doing?” I ask as I walk into the kitchen, rubbing my hair with a towel, pointedly looking over at the dining table. There’s a jug of orange juice in the middle, next to a small cream vase with a single red rose in it. Surrounding those, is a pile of toast, three boxes of unopened cereal, pancakes and a plate of bacon, as well as the fruit bowl that’s usually there, except today it actually has fruit in it. Tom’s over at the stove and the sound of sizzling tells me he’s frying eggs. There’s also the distinct smell of coffee in the air, and I’m amazed how he managed to do all this in the 20 minutes it took me to shower and get dressed. Hell, I’m amazed Tom managed this at all. Neither of us can cook, so to walk in and see this buffet of food is a bit of a shock.

“Cooking breakfast.” He smiles, turning to look at me. He’s got one hand on the frying pan, and the other’s holding a spatula. It’s horribly domesticated, and I smile at how domesticated it is. Tom reminds me of a 50s housewife, making breakfast for the husband before he goes off to his job in an office while she stays home cleaning all day. Tom’s lip ring catches the light and I remember just how undomesticated we are as I look down and see Tom’s sleeve of tattoos, cut off where his navy t-shirt begins, his fingernails coated in chipped black paint. Tom is way too special to be something as mundane as a domesticated housewife. Plus, he has too much dick. He pulls a face at me and says “I didn’t know what you wanted.”

“What, so you decided to cook everything we had?” I laugh, walking over to him.

“Why not? It’s not like we won’t eat it all, between us.” He says, turning back to the eggs.

“Why are you doing all of this?” I ask, leaning my back against the counter next to the stove. Tom looks up quickly, something changing in his posture

“Because I want to,” He informs me, but it’s unsure. “Why, do you- do you not want me to?”

“No, yeah, of course I do,” I quickly rectify. For a second there, Tom look hurt. Like, really, full on hurt. But it was more than that, he looks scared, and seeing him scared is scary. “I just don’t get why, it’s not my birthday, it’s not Valentine’s Day, so I just- oh shit, it’s not our anniversary is it?” The tension from Tom’s shoulders seeps away, and he smiles as he flips one of the eggs over.

“No,” He tells me, and I let out a breath. I am like 99% sure our anniversary is in October, but he had me doubting myself for a minute there. “I just did it because I wanted to. I wanted make you happy.”

“You don’t need to cook me eggs and bacon to make me happy. Although, to be fair, bacon helps.” Tom smiles down at the eggs, and I smile because I made him smile. “No but seriously, the fact that you even give me the time of day makes me happy. The fact that you stay with me, and I get to wake up next to you every day makes me happy. Even when you pour ice over me.” Tom chuckles and looks up at me.

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Yeah.” I tell him, nudging him slightly. He nudges me back and smiles at me again. He’s doing that a lot this morning.

“Fuck, we are so gay.” He laughs, shaking his head and putting the eggs on a plate.

“I know, man.” I watch him walk over to the table and put the plate down. He throws his arms out as if to say ‘ta da!’ and smiles at me expectantly. I sit down at the table, and grab a piece of bacon with my hands and point it at him. “Keep your eyes open, DeLonge; you’re about to witness something special.”

++++++++++++

“I feel like a house.”

“I can’t believe you actually ate all of that food. I mean, I thought- but Jesus, Mark, you inhaled it.” Tom tells me, taking the left turn off of our street onto the main road. He’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, but I can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited about something.

“You’d gone to so much effort, Tom. I couldn’t just let it go to waste. And don’t act like you didn’t eat your fair share of it.” I remind him, rubbing my stomach. I’m pretty sure it helps digestion, or something along those lines.

“No, dude, I ate a man-sized portion of that food. You ate like a fucking beast.” Tom briefly looks away from the road to give me the ‘No, dude, seriously’ look. You know the one people give you as they say ‘no, dude, I’m not fucking with you, you really did kiss that 64 year old librarian with the false teeth and the bald patch last night.’, that one.

“I eat the same way I fuck.” I shrug, but it’s really only a half shrug, because all the energy in my body is dedicated to digesting my food. Tom smirks, breaking at a red light. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll know when we get there.” He states me, slowly pulling away as the light changes to green. I let my body move with the motion, putting no effort into resisting it at all. My head hits the headrest and I sigh. Don’t get me wrong, I know Tom can keep secrets, but he never usually keeps them from me. I’m usually the only person he tells, which makes the situation both frustrating and endearing.

“Are we nearly there?” I ask, needing some sort of information on what we’re doing.

“It’s not far but we’re not nearly there.” He tells me, eyes not leaving the road. We’re starting to get onto bigger and busier roads, which makes me even more confused, because these could lead us anywhere.

“Fuck your cryptic bullshit, are we nearly there or not?” I ask again, and Tom sighs and quickly looks around to, I’m assuming, see where we are.

“Twenty minutes?” He supplies, eyebrows up, like he’s hoping it’ll pacify me. I look at the digital clock on the dashboard, and it tells me its 9:37am. I sigh again, and resignedly sink down in the seat.

“It better be worth it Tom. The clock’s not even at double digits yet, and I’m awake and fully coherent for you, so it better be worth it.” I warn, and Tom smiles like he’s in on the secret and I’m not. He most probably is.

“It will be, I promise.”

++++++++++++

“Close your eyes.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“I’m not.” Tom smirks, taking a left turn. “Seriously, close your eyes.”

“No.” I say, for the sake of being difficult. First he won’t tell me where we’re going; now he’s telling me to close my eyes. I don’t like all the secrecy.

“Mark, don’t be a douchebag, come on. I went to all this effort and kept all these secrets - which was hard, might I add - so the least you can do is close your eyes for two minutes.” He shoots a look at me, and I feel guilty even though I haven’t done anything wrong.

“Why.” I muse out loud, but Tom thinks I’m actually asking him why.

“What do you mean why? So it can be a proper surprise. I want to be able to see your face when you see it, and I can’t do that if I’m driving.” My stomach flips at his words, and I sigh, reluctantly closing my eyes.

“You better not do a Velma and Louise and drive us off a cliff or something.” We hit the highway ten minutes ago, road signs scarce and not really giving me any real indication of where we’re going. I mean, I’m pretty sure Tom’s mentally stable enough not to drive us off the road, but you can never be 100% sure. I’m only checking. He laughs from the seat next to me, and I feel better. Not that I ever expected him to drive us off a cliff, but I just. Y’know.

I felt the car sway with another left turn, but a lot sharper. Tom’s driving a lot slower, so I presume he’s pulled onto a smaller road or something. The car carries on moving slowly for another minute, before stopping. I hear Tom pull the hand break up.

“Hang on a sec.” he says, and I hear him get out of the car. I still have my eyes closed and I’m not sure why. I could just open them. I don’t want to have them closed. I don’t care about ruining the surprise for me, but I don’t want to ruin this for Tom. He sounded so excited talking about it.

My door opens, and I shut my eyes tighter so I’m not even tempted to open them. Tom places his hands on my arm.

“You gotta get out of the car.” Tom tells me, one arm on my shoulder, the other on my forearm.

“How? I can’t see.” I state, and Tom laughs slightly.

“I’ll be your eyes. Turn and swing your legs out of the door, then stand up. I’ll steady you.” I sigh, and move my legs around so they’re out the door. Tom moves one hand to my bicep and one to my head, and he says “Mind your head.” as I stand up. Tom lets go of me and for some dumb reason I take a step forward, my foot hitting something and go falling forward. Opening my eyes, I see the pavement coming towards me and I think, ‘fuck, this is embarrassing.’ and I close my eyes again so I don’t have to see myself hit the pavement. Suddenly a strong arm is around my torso and I’m being pulled upright. I hold onto Tom’s arm and refuse to open my eyes. Tom’s mouth is close to my ear and I can feel him breathing.

“You didn’t let me fall.” I state.

“I would never let you fall.” He tells me quietly, voice close. I feel like he’s telling me something else, like he’s not just talking about right now.

There’s a heavy air around us so I smirk and say “You’re shitty at being my eyes.”

Tom says “There’s a sidewalk there, Mark.” and I can hear the smirk in his voice too.

“Shit, is there really?” I ask, laughing. Tom chuckles and his warmth moves away from my back but just as quickly I feel his hands in mine.

“You’re such a sarcastic ass.” He mutters, but not quiet enough for me not to hear it. He pulls me forward slightly and says “For the love of god, mind the sidewalk, I don’t want to have a heart attack today. Step up.” I do, and he says “You’re good. Just walk forward, I’ve got you.” His hands are still in mine, guiding me, and I just follow blindly. Just like how it’s always been. Except this time it’s a lot more literal. “Ok stop.” And I do, eyes still closed, no idea where the fuck I am or how many people could possibly be around staring at me like I’m fucking retarded. I feel fucking retarded.

He lets go of one hand and interlaces his fingers with the other. “Alright, you can open your eyes now.” He says.

“Finally.” I murmur, as I open them. I stare at the giant blue sign ahead of me and exclaim “You brought me to the aquarium?!”

“Yeah, isn’t it rad?! I know you have that weird thing with marine life.” Tom says, smiling wide and hopeful.

“Oh my god, this is the best surprise ever dude! Thank you!” I smile, moving to hug him. He hugs me back.

“You’re welcome, I’m glad you’re happy. I was worried you’d be disappointed or wouldn’t like it.” He confesses.

“No, this is awesome,” I pull back, and grab his hand and pull him towards the entrance. “Come on, I want to go look at the octopuses.”

++++++++++++

“I know, I know, but look at their tentacles, Tom. Look at those sucker things they have, did you know that the females give birth to the eggs from there? I mean, I think so, I don’t know.” I babble, face pressed against the glass of the octopus tank. The octopus moves leisurely, arms moving and swirling with the water.

“So what you’re telling me,” Tom says, standing close but an acceptable distance away from the tank, unlike me, “is that those sucker things are just hundreds of octopus vaginas?” I nod, not taking my eyes away from the octopus swimming around it’s tank. I love it. “Multiple vaginas. That is, by far, one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever heard. That’s way up there with you saying ‘I’m leaving you’.”

I frown and finally look at him. “I’ve never told you that I’m leaving you.”

“I know you haven’t, hopefully you never will, but just the thought of you ever saying that is terrifying.” He tells me, face honest. I smile and turn back to the glass, hoping it’ll cool the heat in my cheeks. He doesn’t want to ever break up with me. He wants us to last forever.

I have to bite my lip to stop from smiling.

People gasp from behind me and I turn to see a guy on one knee in front of a girl, who’s crying, with her hand over her mouth. He’s proposing to her, right there, in the middle of the aquarium. You’d think he’d at least take her to that tunnel thing where you’re surrounded by water and stuff. That’d be a rad place to get engaged.

There’s a chorus of ‘aw’s from the people around, some stop and watch for her reaction, some smile and carry on walking. She wipes her eyes and nods, he smiles and jumps up to embrace her. I look away and let them have their moment. It feels to intimate for me to be watching, to see someone’s life change like that. It’s no longer him and her, it’s them.

I look over at Tom, who’s still staring at them, looking terrified. He’s considerably paler, and looks like he’s about to vomit all over himself.

“Hey, you ok?” Tom’s head snaps towards me and he smiles uneasily.

“Yeah, yeah, I just… shit. They’re engaged, just like that. Like it’s the simplest thing in the world.” Tom says, moving to walk to another part of the aquarium.

“Isn’t it? I mean, when you fall in love someone, it’s easy right? Loving someone is easy, so why isn’t asking them to marry you? It’s like telling them you love them. It’s like you’re going ‘hey, I love you so much I’m going to give you this ring and it’s kinda like a promise ring and it means I love you and I’m going to forever and I want to tell people that I love you so we’re gonna stand in front of the people that mean something to us and I’m going to tell you how much I love you in front of them and then after that we’re going to have a party with all those people and just celebrate our love’ y’know? Because that’s really all a wedding is.” I tell him, strolling along at his side as we move deeper into the building.

Tom looks shocked and then looks down, eyebrows furrowed like he always does when he’s absorbing something. He thinks about it, turns it over in his head. He doesn’t just hear, he listens. He’s always been that way. “Yeah, yeah, I suppose it is. I never thought of it like that.” Tom looks up at me and smiles, something sparkling in his eyes. His eyes stare at something over my shoulder and he smiles wider. “Mark, look, it’s that tunnel thing where you can walk through the bottom of the tank.” He takes my hand and we walk over towards said tunnel. “He should have proposed to her in here, imagine looking back and saying ‘oh yeah, he proposed to me in a giant fish tank’.”

++++++++++++

The quiet hum of the engine is the only noise in the car. It’s not an uncomfortable silence, but Tom has looked like a deer caught in headlights ever since that guy proposed earlier on, so I figured it’d be better off just giving him space. I don’t know what it was about witnessing an engagement that has put that look on Tom’s face, but whatever it is, I think I’m better off not knowing. Even if I wanted to know, I wouldn’t ask him out of pure fear he’d have some sort of aneurysm at the wheel, which wouldn’t end well for either of us.

I’m not worried.

I’m really not. It was just a few hours ago Tom told me he never wants to hear me say ‘I’m leaving you’ to him.

That doesn’t mean he won’t say it to me.

What if this has been all one big ruse to butter me up, to break it to me gently? Give me something to remember. Maybe that’s why he won’t tell me what today has been all about.

No, of course it’s not. Tom loves me, just like I love him. He does.

I’m not worried.

“Thank you for today. I mean, I still don’t get why you did it, but thank you for doing it anyway.” I say. He smiles, still watching the road. It makes his lip ring protrude out slightly more, bringing my attention to it. I remember what it feels like against my skin, kissing, tasting, licking, biting, all of it.

“You’re welcome.” I rouse from my fixation, forced to shake it off. I shift in my seat and stare pointedly out of my side window.

There’s thirty seconds of silence, when suddenly Tom says “Ooh, oh my god, Mark, look, pet store.” He stops abruptly (luckily, there was no one behind us), pulling up along the sidewalk outside a tiny pet store among a small parade of shops on what looks like a residential street. Tom kills the engine, undoes his seatbelt and goes to get out of the car.

“Tom, what’re you doing, you can’t park here.” I say, and Tom just smiles mischievously.

“We’ll be like five minutes dude; I only want to take a look.” I sigh and follow his lead, muttering to myself.

“You say five minutes Tom, but I know what you’re like with animals. I won’t be able to get you to leave for at least twenty minutes.” I state, because I know how this is going to end up. Him fawning over the puppies, both him and the puppies giving me the sad eyes until I eventually have to promise him a lists’ worth of sexual favours to get him to leave without buying every animal in sight. It’s happened numerous times.

“I swear, I’ll behave.” He promises, hand on his heart.

Sure, like I believe him.

++++++++++++

Sure enough, inside the pet store the ‘I swear I’ll behave’ Tom changes to a ‘please, Mark, please can we get a puppy?’ Tom. Just like I knew he would.

“No.” I say, with finality.

“Please.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Tom whines. He’s sitting on the floor of the store, a tiny Border collie puppy in his arms, half asleep. The puppy nuzzles more into Tom’s arms as he strokes it. For a split second, I’m taken over by ludicrous jealousy over the dog, before I realize it’s a puppy, and as far as it’s concerned Tom is its new mother.

“Because,” I start, but it’s hard to give a valid reason why we shouldn’t get the puppy with the way Tom’s looking at it, and me, and how cute both Tom and the puppy look. “We’re totally unequipped to look after a dog.”

“Then we can get equipped.” He replies, ready to argue with me all day long, I can tell. The middle aged store owner is standing at her desk, watching Tom with a fond look in her eyes, the way you would with a child. I can see why; he’s behaving like one. She catches me staring, excuses herself and walks off to a back room

“Tom,” I sigh, rubbing my temple slightly. It’s really hard to argue with him when he looks so cute. He was probably planning this, the fucker. Getting me right where he wants me. “Dogs are a huge responsibility. It’ll be like having a child around the house.”

“Remember when we babysat Landon for a week when Travis and Shana went on their honeymoon? We survived that. What’s more, so did Landon. If we can handle a 1-year-old, we can handle a dog.” Tom argues. I knew he’d have an argument. I knew I should have stayed in the car.

“Yeah, but we had Landon for a week. A dog will last for a good ten years or so.” I reason.

“Yeah, but Landon is a human being and a dog is a dog. They require like half the work babies do. You don’t have to sit there and feed them by hand or change diapers. I mean you have to walk them, but you go jogging like every day so you can’t even complain. And dogs are way cuter than babies. Getting a dog is like the ultimate thing. If we can handle a dog we can handle whatever the future throws at us.” I fluster slightly, I almost feel like he’s suggesting children even though he’s really not, that’s stupid. It’s us. I shift on the spot. “And as for the ‘dogs last a lifetime’ thing; I’d been trying and trying to get my way with you since 1992 and you finally gave in three years ago…”

“I didn’t give in, I just-”

“That’s ten years of effort.” He says over me. “Do you really think I’d put in ten years of effort and not want to be in it for the long hall?” he asks.

I shrug, pensively, earlier doubt coming through. “People change.” Is all I say.

Tom shakes his head and smiles slightly. “Not me and you. Never have, never will. We were friends for ten years, we still are, except now we fuck and cuddle and hold hands and shit. Thirteen years we’ve known each other and I never get sick of your voice or your face. If that isn’t dog-worthy commitment I don’t know what is.” I feel a weight lift off of me, straight from my chest. My stomach flutters and I can feel my face warming up. I clear my throat and blink rapidly against the wet sensation in my eyes.

“Jesus Christ, if the dog means that much to you I’ll think about it, alright? Fuck.” I say, clearing my throat again and turning around. I try to discreetly wipe my cheeks but I’m pretty sure Tom saw me crying before that anyway. God, he’s such an asshole, saying things like that in public. He knows how emotional I get when it comes to him.

“Saleswoman!” He calls and I roll my eyes, because he is such an asshole. The owner comes walking out of the backroom, smiling a smile that’s probably fake but feels wholesome anyway. Tom’s now standing on the customer side of the sales desk, sleeping puppy still in his arms. “How long is it possible to keep this little cutie on hold for me considering how much of a sweetheart I am and how lovely you look in that dress?” He smiles. Fuck, he’s always so charming. Asshole.

The woman laughs and it reminds me of grandmothers and baking and Sundays. “Well, she’s only three weeks old so she can’t be taken away from her mother for at least another three weeks, I’ll keep you in mind until then. If you boys want to come in at some point during the next three weeks and tell me you’re definitely interested, I’ll try and keep her on hold for as long as possible, but when she reaches about ten weeks I’ll probably have to sell her to someone else if you don’t buy her; the older she gets the harder she is to sell, and also the harder it is for her to settle into a new home.” She tells us. Tom smiles widely and hands the puppy back to her, and she takes it with great ease and familiarity.

“You’re an angel. We’ll definitely be back.” He promises, his smile changing its aim from her to me and it’s just so easy to smile back when he looks at me like that.

++++++++++++

“Home, sweet home.” I breathe as I walk through the door to our house at 5pm that evening. I’m shocked at how we managed to spend the entire day at an aquarium. I mean, octopuses are cool but the rest are just different coloured fish.

(Apart from the hammer head shark. That was so awesome.)

“You act like we’ve been gone for days.” Tom says, strolling in the door behind me and closing it. I put the hoodie that I didn’t actually wear on the back of a dining chair, before proceeding into the living room and collapsing onto the couch.

“You woke me up at eight this morning, Tom. Eight.” I hold up eight fingers just to get my point across even more. “I literally cannot remember the last time I was awake at that time, so excuse me for being a little bit tired.” I defend, sinking in to the couch as my eyes begin to close.

“Well, you better make yourself untired, because the day is not over yet.” Tom's smile is conveyed in his voice, and I feel him lift up my legs, sit on the couch, and put my legs down on his lap. He's got a loose grip on my right ankle, between where my pants end and my shoes begin, on top of my sock. His fingers are barely shifting, but they are, and it feels significant somehow. It feels like an anchor stopping me from drifting away.

“What’s the deal with today? Like ok, you said this morning you want to make me happy, and that’s great and I love you for it, but why today? Why make all this effort randomly?” I ask, opening my eyes. He’s staring down at my shins, fiddling with a loose thread on my pants.

“It’s not random, I just finally- I’ve wanted to do it for a while. I don’t know why today it just… it felt right, y’know?” He confesses, continuing to twirl the thread around his fingers.

“It felt like the right time to visit the aquarium? Dude, I love you, you’re strange ass quirks included, but that’s fucking weird, even for you.” I laugh, and he looks at me seriously for a second while I briefly panic that I’ve genuinely insulted him but then he laughs too, head falling to the back of the couch.

“Fuck you, that’s not what I meant.” He chuckles. His eyes are bright in the sun light that fills the room. It’s not setting yet, but everything’s starting to get cast in an orangey hue, making his eyes seem a more vibrant brown.

“C’mon, we gotta go get ready. Places to go, people to see.” Tom says, sliding out from beneath my legs and standing up. He holds out both his hands for me to grab, ready to pull me up.

“I’m not moving unless you tell me where we’re going.” I protest. Tom drops his hands, walking towards the doorway. I watch him. It’s not in Tom’s character to give in so easily.

“Food.” Is Tom’s final word before he completely leaving the room.

I mumble my resentment as I rise to follow him.

++++++++++++

The door of my favourite restaurant opens and I’m immediately hit with the smell of good food and the sound of one hundred people conversing between themselves.

When Tom said we were going out for food, I presumed maybe like, tacos. Or McDonalds. I never expected him to tell me to get dressed up because we were going to one of San Diego’s busiest, most well distinguished and, by extension, most expensive restaurants aka my favourite place to eat in the whole entire world. It’s not even my birthday.

Tom removes his hand from the base of my back in favour of shaking the maître d’s hand, who greets him with a friendly yet formal smile.

“Your table is already set up and waiting for you, sir.” He says, with a slight bow.

“The one I requested?” Tom asks. Everyone assumes, because of the (currently hidden) tattoos and the (not so hidden) lip ring, he’s unintelligent and impolite. He’s anything but; surprisingly smart and well spoken, and easy to get on with once given the chance. He’s also disgustingly polite and charming. It all depends on his company.

“Of course, sir.” The maître d’ assures, beckoning a waitress over. She comes and stands next to her boss, also bowing lightly and smiling professionally at us. “This is Janine; she will show you to your table and serve you this evening. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask her. I hope you enjoy your evening, sirs.” He tells us, smiling. We thank him, and he turns to the people who entered behind us.

We follow Janine through the restaurant, going further inside. She finally stops at a little table towards the back end of the restaurant, near a wall. It’s away from all the noise and commotion of the rest of the place. It’s much more private than most other tables.

Tom rushes in front of me and pulls out a chair. I go to walk around to the other side of the table and sit down, but with a big, stupid, boyish grin on his face, Tom motions for me to sit in the chair he’s pulled out. He’s pulled the chair out for me.

My cheeks heat up, and I walk over him and sit in the chair. He pushes it in slightly, and rounds the table to get to his own. I have to stop from laughing, because I’m fucking giddy. He’s such a charming little fucker. Even the waitress has dropped the formality and is smiling lovingly at Tom. It goes unnoticed by him, however, because he’s staring at me, smile still in place.

A busboy comes up behind her with two menus. He has to nudge her slightly before she even acknowledges him, but then she clears her throat, and takes the menus from him. He smiles and walks away.

“Here are your menus, gentlemen.” She says as she hands the menus to us, her professionalism back. “Would you like to see our drinks menu, or do you know what you would like already?”

“Uh, can we have a menu, please?” Tom asks, placing his menu on the table and smiling at her.

“Sure, I’ll be right back with those.” She says, nodding and walking away. I look at Tom, who’s looking down at his menu.

“What’s with you, being all gentlemanly and shit?” I ask, regardless of where we are or who’s around us. They don’t matter to me.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Mark,” He says, innocently, but he’s smirking down at his menu. “I am always a gentleman.”

“Sure, yeah, and Travis talks.” I scoff, but I smile so he knows I’m only teasing. He bursts out laughing, it’s loud and obnoxious and the people at the tables around us turn around or throw us dirty looks before turning back to their meal. Tom’s still giggling, muffling it with his palm as he stares intently at his menu. “It’s funnier when you’re not supposed to laugh, isn’t it?” Another sharp laugh, still loud but way more controlled than last time. It still causes a few people to turn around mumble about the kids in an adult’s restaurant. Damn them. Damn those stupid punks, with their stupid hair and their stupid piercings. How dare they come into this establishment and express joy? This isn’t play time, kids.

Damn them.

“Let’s get out of here.” I tell him, and he looks up, suddenly serious.

“Sorry, I thought you liked it here.” Tom apologises.

“No, no, I do. I love it here. And I love you for remembering how much I love this place, and bringing me here for no apparent reason. But, right now, all I want to do is get tacos and cuddle with you. Preferably without the old bag at the next table over watching us shamelessly.” The lady in question gasps and turns back to her food, and Tom laughs loud again.

“Come on then.” He says, getting up. I follow suit, grabbing his hand as he walks past and we rush out as fast as we can.

++++++++++++

“-I’m not even kidding, that waitress had total heart eyes over you.” I tell Tom, before taking a bite out of my taco. Thankfully Sombrero’s stays open late, and Tom drove us there before insisting we go for a walk as we eat.

Tom laughs, mouth full, but he doesn’t care. The road we’re walking along is still pretty busy considering the time, but the sidewalk is completely empty except for us. The shops are closed, and there are no houses in sight. People have no reason to be here. We have no reason to be here, either, but here we are.

“Did she not see who I was pulling the chair out for? Did she not make that connection?” I shrug, taking another bite. “Girls, man. They’re so oblivious.” He giggles, strolling down the road at my side.

“You get used to it when your boyfriend is as charming and hot as you are.” I tease, and watch him smile down at his feet. He’s got the sleeves of his suit jacket rolled up and his tie has been loosened with the top few buttons of his shirt undone.

“You’re pretty fucking charming yourself, asshole.” He replies, using his hips to nudge me. He finishes off his taco and screws up his wrapper, taking my screwed up wrapper and walking down an ally way to chuck them in a dumpster. “Ooh, park. Come.” He beckons, and I follow. The ally way is short and not too gross, considering, and at the other end is a tiny road, with our local park on the opposite side. Tom walks up to the gate, but it’s shut, locked and bolted.

“It’s closed, Tom.” I point out.

“So?” He asks, familiar mischievous glint in his eye. Before I can stop him, he’s jumped up and scaled the fence, dropping down on the other side and looks at me expectantly.

“You seem to forget that I am not agile, nor am I you.” I tell him, approaching the fence. It’s not a high fence, and the tops aren’t sharp. But this is me. I don’t do this kind of thing. Ever.

“C’mon, Mark. You’ll be fine. I’ll catch you if you fall, I promise.” Tom says, the fence between us. I sigh and take a deep breath. Jump. In one movement, I grab a hold of the top of the fence, pull myself up and swing my leg over. I swing my other leg over, and jump onto the grass. Tom laughs and hugs me.

“Dude, we are so punk rock.” He jokes, letting me go and I smile back.

“I’m never doing that again.” I tell him, looking back at the fence. I’m not 100% sure how I managed to get over it.

“You’re kinda gonna have to if you want to get out of here.” Tom informs. Fuck. I didn’t think of that.

Tom sets off and I know exactly where he’s going, even in the dark. The lake is his favourite place in the park, and he always tells me how beautiful it must be at night. There’s no way he’d pass up the opportunity to see it for himself.

Tom’s silent the entire way there, and as soon as the lake’s in sight he heads straight for the bench that overlooks the whole lake, the willow trees that border it on the far side and some fields in the distance. I follow him quietly and sit next to him.

He was right. The lake is beyond beautiful at night; the moon shines straight down onto the calm water, making it look like a mirror. The trees cast shadows in the water, making everything look eerie. It all just seems otherworldly.

“You know,” Tom speaks quietly, but it makes me jump anyway. When I look over at him he looks pensive, his vision is fixed out at the water, and I follow it, hoping it’ll lead me to his train of thought. “I never used to believe in love.”

I lean back against the bench, sensing the beginning of a serious conversation.

“I mean, I believed you could love someone, people. And I used to think that these feelings of love got confused with being in love. And so people used to love others, but they would mistake the feeling of love with being in love. Because media made me believe being in love was this special, magical thing that made everything good and easy and you were happy and that that special, magical love would last forever. They made me think that special, magical love was stronger than anything on this planet, even stronger than death. I believed that.” He takes a deep breath. I think he might be crying, but I won’t look over. Tom’s like a deer when he’s like this. You have to just stand still and let him come to you; you move and he’s gone. “Then I watched my parent's so-called love fall apart and I didn’t believe in it anymore.” He stops talking, but I don’t say a word. I know there’s more to say, I just need to give him the time to say it.

“When you marry someone, you stand up and say ‘I love you, I’m in love with you, and I will be forever’, just like you said earlier. And as a kid, I saw pictures of them saying that, I saw videos of them promising that to each other. And all it took was a few signatures and none of the pictures or the videos mattered anymore. The vows didn’t matter. The love didn’t matter. And I remember climbing to my roof one night and staring at the sky and thinking ‘If love is this magical, powerful thing, how can it be broken so easily?’, because who knows, maybe if their love didn’t get broken they would have stayed married forever. But that night… that was the night I decided that being in love couldn’t be real. That people loved and become confused with what they’re feeling. And that was what I knew from that point on. Going through life had just proven that to me; you’d watch people declare love to each other and promises of forever and the next week it’s all over, like it’s that easy. And I was sleeping with boys and girls and thinking ‘Yeah, maybe I’m falling in love with you’ but the next morning those feelings were gone. And I thought, if love - real, true love - existed, it couldn’t fade that fast, it couldn’t be so insignificant. So, in my eyes, falling in love someone was just one massive illusion.

“But the weird thing is… the weird part is I remember the first time I met you and I remember finally understanding why some people believed in love at first sight. Of course, I still thought it was bullshit, but I understood. And then I got to know you, and I thought ‘I see why people think this is falling in love. It’s a pretty illusion’ and even though we weren’t together, I kept thinking ‘any day now he’s going to turn around and leave’ because that’s how it worked, right? You think you fall in love and then it falls apart. To me, the fact that we wasn’t dating was irrelevant, I was just waiting for it to fall apart, for you to give up on me. But you never went anywhere. You stayed when I was drinking too much, when I was out of control and didn’t know where I was or what I was doing. And there was one night where I was so hammered you had to come get me, and, I swear to you, the only thing I remember from that night is you looking down at me when I’d fallen onto the ground with pure disgust in your eyes. And I think that’s what love is; it’s hating someone and still loving them. You have all that hard shit, and you’ll either fly or fall.

“I know true love is real, now. I know it has to be, because what I feel for you isn’t something I can explain with words. It tears me apart and puts me back together and it makes me weak and brave and vulnerable but it’s one of the most addicting things I’ve ever felt. And for so long I was this fragile, broken boy and no one even realized, but you did. You saw through all my bullshit and you tried to fix me. You tried, and I pushed you away, so you tried again and I still pushed you away. And you kept trying and I kept pushing to the point where you hated me. You despised me, and that’s love. That’s love because you kept going and trying to fix me because you loved me even though you hated me. And eventually I gave up and let you in, and that’s love, because I was terrified. I basically gave you the ability to completely destroy me, but I trusted you not to. That’s love.

“People give up too easily. Love exists, and they feel it, but when it gets hard they give up. And not just with love, with everything. People don’t want to try anymore; they want everything handed to them on a silver platter. They expect it, almost. That’s not what love is. Love is fighting, love is hating. Love is trying, and coming out the other side. Love isn’t easy, but it’s worth it.”

Tom moves quickly, suddenly down on one knee in front of me, his hands in mine. He has tears rolling down his cheeks, and I do too, but he doesn’t look sad. He looks hopeful. He lets go of my hands and reaches into the pocket inside his suit jacket, pulling out a simple silver ring that glints in the moonlight.

“Marry me, Mark. Marry me because you want to. Marry me because you make me happy, and I’m sure I make you happy too. Marry me because we’ve been through too much shit together not to. Marry me because you’ve shown me what love is, and I will spend every day of my life trying to show you what love is too. Marry me because I love you. Marry me because it’s always been you. Because it always will be.” He’s got the ring in between his thumb and forefinger, offering it to me. This isn’t a proposal, this isn’t him asking me; this is him offering everything he has to me in the form of a marriage, in the form of a ring.

In the form of him.

I sit up straight and wipe my eyes. Then I lean forward and wipe his.

“I love you.” I whisper, his head in my hands, our faces close. “I love you, and I’m going to marry you because I love you.”

Tom smiles a watery smile, and I let him put the ring on my finger. It’s a perfect fit.

As I hold him, in the middle of an empty park in the middle of the night, I realize; he doesn’t need to show me love, he just needs to teach me how to love like he does.