I Accidentally Saw Him At A Gay Club… Now He Wants To Marry Me
About 8 months after everything happened, Christian moved into my apartment.
Not officially at first.
At first it was just little things.
A toothbrush beside mine.
A drawer full of his clothes.
Work boots permanently abandoned near the front door.
Then suddenly half my fridge belonged to him.
His shampoo was in my shower, and he somehow had opinions about which side of the bed was his.
“You’re basically living here already.”
I pointed out one night while watching him dig through my kitchen looking for cereal.
Christian glanced over his shoulder.
“You complaining?”
“No.”
I admitted immediately.
He smirked a little and tossed me the cereal box.
That was the thing about us now.
Everything felt easy and private.
Natural.
Like we’d skipped past the awkward beginning stage somehow because we’d already spent years orbiting each other before finally admitting the truth.
But outside the apartment, things were still complicated.
Christian’s relationship with his father had gotten worse before it started getting better.
Some days they barely spoke at all.
Other days his dad acted like nothing had changed, which honestly hurt Christian more.
“You know what the messed up part is?”
Christian muttered one night after coming home from his parents’ place.
He dropped onto the couch beside me heavily, exhausted from work and emotionally drained.
“What?”
“He asks about you constantly.”
I looked over from my laptop.
Christian laughed bitterly under his breath.
“Seriously.
How’s Douglas doing?
You still hanging out with Douglas?”
A pause.
“He literally likes you more than me right now.”
I shut the laptop and shifted closer.
Christian leaned his head back against the couch cushions with a tired sigh.
“He still can’t say the word boyfriend.”
He admitted quietly.
“It’s always your friend.”
I stayed quiet because honestly, there wasn’t much to say.
Christian looked over at me after a second.
“I hate that it still bothers me.”
“It’s your dad.”
I said softly.
“Of course it bothers you.”
His expression softened immediately.
That was another thing I’d learned about Christian over these months.
For someone who looked intimidating as hell, he carried hurt very quietly.
Most people never noticed it.
I did.
Christian reached over and grabbed my hand loosely.
Then he stared at our intertwined fingers for a second before muttering, “Still feels weird sometimes.”
My stomach dropped slightly.
But then he smiled.
“Not bad weird.”
I relaxed immediately.
Christian squeezed my hand once.
“More like, I can’t believe I almost never let myself have this.”
Something emotional twisted in my chest hearing that.
Before I could answer, his phone buzzed loudly against the coffee table.
Christian groaned immediately.
“That’ll be Mateo.”
“Your brother or your other boyfriend?”
“Very funny.”
He answered the call on speaker anyway.
Mateo’s voice exploded through the phone instantly.
“Why did MOM just tell me you’re bringing Douglas to dinner?”
Christian blinked.
“Because I am.”
“Dad’s going to implode.”
I looked over at Christian carefully.
His jaw tightened slightly.
“Mateo.”
“No, seriously.”
Mateo continued.
“Mom invited Aunt Rosa too for some reason.”
“This is either family bonding or an assassination attempt.”
I started laughing.
Christian rubbed his forehead.
“Thanks.”
“Very helpful.”
“You’re still going?”
Christian glanced toward me briefly before answering.
“Yeah.”
That surprised me.
Because up until now, Christian had carefully avoided bringing me to larger family gatherings.
Not because he was ashamed.
I knew that.
But because he was scared of conflict.
Scared of forcing everybody into a confrontation they weren’t ready for.
Matteo whistled softly through the phone.
Damn.
You’re serious serious.
Christian looked directly at me then.
And the warmth in his expression hit me immediately.
Yeah.
He said quietly.
I am.
My heart stumbled hard enough that I forgot Matteo was still listening.
Unfortunately, Matteo immediately gagged dramatically through the speaker.
Oh my god.
You guys are disgusting.
Christian hung up on him instantly.
I was still smiling when he looked back at me.
What?
He asked.
You called me serious serious.
Christian groaned softly.
Please never repeat that sentence again.
I moved closer across the couch until our knees touched.
You nervous about dinner?
His expression shifted immediately.
Terrified.
At least you’re honeSt. Christian looked down briefly before admitting.
I’m more worried about how they’ll treat you.
That caught me off guard.
Me?
Yeah.
He frowned slightly.
I can handle my dad being pissed at me.
I don’t want him making you uncomfortable, too.
The protectiveness in his voice did something dangerous to me emotionally.
I leaned over and kissed him softly before he could overthink anything else.
Christian relaxed instantly against me.
That still amazed me sometimes.
How quickly we’d become each other’s safe place.
When I pulled back slightly, Christian looked at me quietly.
Then his hand slid lightly along my jaw.
You know,” he murmured, “there’s something very unfair about how good you look sitting on my couch.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Your couch?”
“You let me keep my sweatpants here.
Legally, this is basically marriage.”
I laughed hard enough to fall sideways against him.
Christian immediately wrapped an arm around my waist automatically.
Easy.
Natural.
Home.
And honestly, that scared me almost as much as it excited me.
Because somewhere between secret kisses and late-night conversations and mornings tangled together in bed, I’d fallen completely in love with him.
And deep down, I was starting to think Christian had done the same.
Family dinner was a disaster before we even got there.
Christian changed shirts three times.
Not because he cared that much about clothes normally, but because he was nervous enough to overthink literally everything.
“That one’s fine.”
I said for the third time while leaning against the bedroom doorway.
Christian stared at himself in the mirror with visible distrust.
“You sure?
It’s a black button-up, not a wedding dress.”
He looked over at me dryly.
“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
I was.
Mostly because watching intimidating 6’2″ Christian Moreno panic over dinner was weirdly adorable.
He grabbed his truck keys off the dresser with a sigh.
“If this goes badly, we’re leaving immediately.”
“Christian.”
“I’m serious.”
The tension in his voice softened my amusement immediately.
I crossed the room and stopped in front of him.
“You don’t have to protect me from your family.”
His eyes met mine instantly.
“Yes, I do.”
The quiet certainty in his voice hit me harder than it should have.
Christian looked away after a second and muttered, “You matter too much to me for this to turn ugly.
And just like that, my entire brain stopped functioning again.
Because somehow, even after months together, hearing him say things like that still wrecked me.
The drive to his parents’ house was mostly quiet after that.
Christian kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting against my thigh the entire time, like he needed the contact to stay calm.
Every few minutes his thumb brushed lightly against my jeans unconsciously.
By the time we pulled into the driveway, my stomach had started twisting, too.
The house looked exactly the same as always.
Warm porch lights.
His mom’s plants everywhere.
The sound of loud conversation drifting faintly through the windows.
But tonight, everything felt different.
Christian shut off the engine and exhaled heavily.
You ready?
No.
Same.
Neither of us moved immediately.
Then finally, Christian reached over and intertwined our fingers briefly before letting go.
A tiny gesture.
But it meant everything.
Inside, chaos had already started.
Matteo spotted us first from the kitchen.
His eyes widened dramatically.
Oh my god, they actually came together.
Christian immediately flipped him off.
His mom appeared seconds later carrying a bowl of something that smelled amazing.
The second she saw us standing there, her entire face softened.
Douglas!
She said warmly immediately hugging me.
Christian looked deeply offended.
You hugged him first?
You complain every time I hug you.
That’s because you cry.
I cry because I love you.
Matteo gagged loudly from the kitchen.
Somehow the normalness of the interaction calmed me down instantly.
For a little while, dinner almost felt okay.
His mom chatted constantly.
Matteo made sarcastic comments non-stop.
Even Aunt Rosa mostly just seemed curious about us instead of judgemental.
The only real problem sat silently at the far end of the table barely touching his food.
Christian’s father.
Every time I accidentally looked toward him, tension tightened in Christian beside me immediately.
Like he was bracing for impact.
Then finally, halfway through dinner, it happened.
“So.”
His father said suddenly without looking directly at either of us.
“You two live together now?”
The entire table went silent.
Christian set down his fork carefully.
“Basically.”
He answered evenly.
A long pause followed.
Then his father asked, “And this is serious?”
Christian didn’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
The firmness in his voice surprised everybody slightly.
Including me.
His father finally looked up then.
Directly at me firSt. Then at Christian.
And honestly, the disappointment in his expression hurt more than anger would have.
“I just don’t understand it.”
He admitted quietly.
Christian tensed beside me instantly.
“You don’t have to understand it.”
“I’m trying.”
“No.”
Christian said softly.
“You’re trying to make it go away.”
Silence crashed across the table again.
His mom looked close to crying already.
Matteo stared intensely at his mashed potatoes like they contained escape instructions.
Christian’s father exhaled hard through his nose before looking at me again.
“You’re a good man, Douglas.”
I blinked slightly.
“Uh thank you.”
“That’s why this is hard for me.”
Christian immediately stiffened beside me.
“Dad.”
“I’m serious.”
His father frowned heavily.
“You’re both good men.”
“I just” He stopped himself frustratedly.
This isn’t what I pictured.
Christian pushed his chair back suddenly.
The sound scraped sharply across the floor.
Well, it’s not exactly what I pictured, either.
He snapped.
The anger in his voice startled everybody, including him.
His father looked shocked.
Christian stood there breathing hard for a second before muttering, “I spent half my life trying not to be this.”
The room went dead quiet.
My chest tightened painfully hearing the raw honesty in his voice.
Christian laughed bitterly under his breath.
“You think this was easy for me?”
Nobody answered.
Because, honestly, what could they even say to that?
Christian shook his head once and looked toward me instead.
The anger in his face softened immediately the second our eyes met.
“Come outside with me?”
I nodded instantly.
We stepped out onto the back porch together into cool evening air.
The second the door shut behind us, Christian dragged both hands through his hair hard.
“Damn.”
I stayed quiet.
Christian paced once across the porch before stopping near the railing.
“I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
You didn’t say anything wrong.
He’s trying.
Badly.
That actually got a tired laugh out of him.
Then his face crumpled slightly in a way that made my chest ache.
“I hate this.”
He admitted quietly.
I stepped closer.
Christian looked exhausted now, emotionally drained.
“I know.”
He swallowed hard before saying something so quietly I almost missed it.
“I just wanted them to see what I see.”
My heart nearly broke hearing that.
I moved directly in front of him and touched his face gently.
Christian immediately leaned into my hand slightly without even thinking about it.
“What do you see?”
I asked softly.
His eyes searched mine carefully.
Then he answered without hesitation, “Home.”
And honestly, nothing anybody said inside that house mattered after that.
Christian got quieter after dinner.
Not immediately.
At first, he acted normal while we said goodbye to everyone.
His mom hugged us both too tightly.
Nate whispered, “Proud of you, idiots.”
And nobody else was looking.
Even his father gave me a stiff nod before we left.
But the second we got back into the truck, the silence hit.
Christian stared straight ahead while gripping the steering wheel harder than necessary.
The engine hummed quietly around us.
Streetlights slid across his face as we drove.
“You okay?”
I asked softly after a few minutes.
“Yeah.”
It was an automatic answer.
And a complete lie.
I watched his jaw tighten slightly afterward like he knew I could tell.
So I stayed quiet instead of pushing.
Christian had this habit when something hurt him deeply.
He tried to contain it until it cracked out sideways later.
About halfway home, he finally spoke again.
“I meant what I said out there.”
I looked over.
“What part?”
His eyes stayed fixed on the road.
“About you feeling like home.”
The softness in his voice made my chest tighten instantly.
Christian swallowed hard before continuing.
“I don’t think I ever really had that before.”
That surprised me.
Because from the outside, Christian’s life had always looked stable.
Big family, good job, close relationships.
But appearances lied.
I knew that now.
“You have it now.”
I said quietly.
His grip on the wheel loosened slightly.
Then he looked at me for half a second with an expression so open it almost hurt to see.
Yeah.
He murmured.
I do.
The drive home felt different after that.
Quieter still.
But softer.
When we got back to the apartment, Christian headed straight for the kitchen while I kicked off my shoes near the couch.
A minute later I heard the fridge door close harder than necessary.
Then silence again.
I walked into the kitchen slowly.
Christian stood there staring down at a beer bottle in his hand without opening it.
You want to talk about it?
I asked gently.
He laughed once under his breath.
Not really.
Okay.
I turned to leave him space.
Then suddenly.
I’m angry.
I looked back immediately.
Christian still wasn’t looking at me.
I know he’s trying.
He admitted.
I know tonight could have gone worse.
He shook his head once.
But hearing your own dad talk about your relationship like it’s some tragedy.
His voice cracked slightly at the end.
That hit me hard.
Christian noticed my expression immediately and looked away.
Sorry.
Don’t apologize.
He exhaled sharply and finally opened the beer.
I spent so many years being terrified someone would find out.
He muttered.
And now I’m finally happy.
And somehow I still feel guilty all the time.
I moved closer carefully.
Christian looked exhausted standing there.
Like carrying years of repression and family tension and fear had finally caught up with him all at once.
You know what I think?
I said quietly.
What?
I think you’re grieving.
That made him look at me immediately.
For what?
For the version of your life you thought you were supposed to have.
Christian went completely still.
And judging by the expression on his face, I’d hit something dead center.
He stared at me for a long moment before laughing softly under his breath.
Jesus ChriSt. What?
You always do that.
Do what?
Say things that crawl directly into my chest and rearrange my organs.
Despite everything, I laughed.
Christian finally smiled, too.
Small, tired, but real.
Then he stepped forward suddenly and wrapped both arms around my waist, burying his face against my neck.
The contact nearly melted me instantly.
Christian wasn’t usually this openly needy, which meant when he was, he really needed it.
I slid my arms around him immediately.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
He just held onto me tightly in the middle of the kitchen while tension slowly drained from his body.
Finally, he muttered against my shoulder.
You know what’s embarrassing?
What?
I used to think being with a guy would make me feel weak.
I pulled back enough to look at him.
Christian’s expression had softened again.
But you make me feel stronger than anybody ever has.
And yeah, that completely destroyed me emotionally.
I kissed him before I could even think about it.
Christian kissed me back immediately, one hand sliding firmly along my waist while the other settled against my jaw.
Slow, warm, comfort instead of desperation this time.
When we finally pulled apart, Christian rested his forehead lightly against mine.
You staying up?
He murmured.
Depends.
On?
You.
A tired smile spread across his face.
Come to bed with me.
The softness in his voice nearly killed me.
We ended up tangled together under the blankets with the TV playing quietly in the background.
Christian lay on his side facing me, one arm draped heavily across my waist while absent-mindedly tracing circles against my shirt.
“You know,” he said sleepily after a while, “Matteo told me something weird tonight.”
“What?”
Christian smirked slightly.
“He said everybody already knew I was in love with you before I did.”
I burst out laughing immediately.
Christian looked offended.
“I’m serious.”
“No way.”
“Yes way.”
He groaned quietly.
“Apparently I talked about you constantly.”
“That’s actually adorable.”
“Please stop calling me adorable.”
“Never.”
Christian rolled his eyes before pulling me slightly closer against him.
Then after a quiet pause, he admitted, “He also said this is the happiest he’s ever seen me.”
The teasing disappeared from my face immediately.
Christian looked thoughtful now, almost surprised by the realization himself.
“You are happier.”
I said softly.
He nodded once.
Then his eyes searched mine carefully in the dim light.
“You know what scares me now?”
“What?”
“Losing this.”
The vulnerability in his voice hit hard.
I touched his face gently.
“You’re not going to.”
Christian held my gaze for a long moment.
Then quietly, honestly, he whispered, “I think I want forever with you.”
And in that moment, lying there wrapped in his arms while the city lights glowed faintly through the bedroom window, I realized I wanted exactly the same thing.
The first time Christian accidentally said, “Our apartment.”
He froze halfway through the sentence like he’d confessed to a crime.
We were grocery shopping, of all places.
He was standing beside the cart comparing pasta sauces with absurd concentration when he muttered, “We already have that at our then immediately stopped.
I looked over slowly.
Christian refused to make eye contact.
A faint blush crept up his neck.
I started grinning instantly.
You were saying?
Nothing.
You said our apartment.
Christian grabbed the nearest pasta sauce aggressively.
This one looks good.
I laughed so hard an older woman nearby glanced at us disapprovingly.
Christian looked deeply betrayed.
You’re never letting this go, are you?
Absolutely not.
The thing was moments like that kept happening now.
Small domestic things.
Christian falling asleep with his arm around me every night without even thinking about it anymore.
His boots beside mine at the front door.
The fact that he automatically reached for my hand in parking lots now like it was instinct.
We were building a life together quietly before either of us officially admitted it.
And honestly, that terrified me sometimes.
Not because I didn’t want it.
Because I wanted it so badly.
One rainy Sunday afternoon, Christian was helping me clean the apartment while music played softly from my phone’s speaker in the kitchen.
By helping, I mostly mean he was distracting me on purpose.
Christian.
Hm?
You’re holding the broom upside down.
He looked down.
Oh.
I snorted.
Christian walked toward me slowly with the broom still in hand.
In my defense, I’m very distracted.
By what?
He stopped directly in front of me.
By my boyfriend looking good in gray sweatpants again.
I groaned immediately.
You need to let that obsession die.
Never.
His hands settled naturally on my waist now, easy and familiar.
The warmth of him still affected me every single time.
Christian leaned down and kissed me softly.
Then again.
Longer.
By the third kiss, I’d completely forgotten we were supposed to be cleaning.
Christian smiled against my mouth like he knew exactly what he was doing.
You’re manipulative.
I muttered.
You like it.
Unfortunately, he was correct.
A loud knock at the apartment door interrupted us suddenly.
Christian sighed dramatically against my forehead.
If that’s Mateo again, I’m pretending we died.
I laughed and headed toward the door while Christian followed behind me still holding the useless upside-down broom.
The second I opened the door, my stomach dropped.
Christian’s father stood there.
Everything behind me went silent.
Christian stopped moving entirely.
For one awful second, nobody spoke.
Then his father looked at Christian and said quietly, “Can I come in?”
The tension in the room became immediate.
Heavy.
Christian looked genuinely caught off guard.
“Uh, yeah.”
His father stepped inside slowly.
I noticed him glance briefly toward the kitchen.
At the shared mess.
The music still playing.
The domesticity of everything.
Something unreadable crossed his face.
Christian still looked tense enough to snap.
“What’s going on?”
He asked carefully.
His father exhaled slowly.
“I wanted to talk.”
That surprised both of us.
Christian crossed his arms instinctively.
“About?”
Another long pause.
Then finally his father looked directly at him.
“I think I owe you an apology.”
The room went completely still.
Christian blinked once like he genuinely thought he’d misheard.
His father rubbed a tired hand over his face before continuing.
“I’ve been angry because I thought I lost the future I imagined for you.”
Christian stayed silent.
But your mother told me something yesterday.
He looked down briefly.
She asked me why I keep acting like you’re unhappy when you’re clearly happier than you’ve ever been.
My chest tightened instantly.
Christian’s expression cracked slightly, too.
His father looked toward me then.
You care about him.
It wasn’t a question.
I nodded slowly.
Yeah.
A heavy silence followed.
Then his father looked back at Christian again.
And he cares about you.
Christian swallowed hard, but still didn’t speak.
Honestly, I think he was too shocked.
His father sighed quietly.
I don’t understand all of this yet.
He gestured vaguely between us.
But I’m trying.
Christian’s eyes dropped toward the floor briefly.
You already said that.
I know.
His father nodded once.
But this time I mean it.
Something emotional moved across Christian’s face so quickly it hurt to witness.
Years of fear, pain, hope he probably didn’t want to feel.
His father glanced around the apartment awkwardly before muttering, Matteo told me you practically live here now.
Christian huffed out a startled laugh.
Yeah.
His father nodded slowly again.
Then after a long pause, he asked the question none of us expected.
So, which one of you cooks?
I blinked.
Christian blinked.
Then suddenly we were both laughing.
Not because the question was funny, because it was normal.
For the first time since all of this started, it felt like maybe normal was actually possible.
Christian’s father looked mildly offended by our reaction.
What?
You seriously came over here to interrogate our cooking habits?
Christian asked.
A A smile tugged reluctantly at the corner of his father’s mouth.
Well?
Christian pointed at me immediately.
Douglas.
Traitor.
I muttered.
His father nodded thoughtfully.
That makes sense.
Christian looked horrified.
What does that mean?
It means you once burned soup.
That happened one time.
You called the fire department.
It was smoking aggressively.
I was laughing so hard by then I could barely breathe.
And standing there watching Christian argue with his father in my kitchen while rain tapped softly against the windows, something inside my chest settled peacefully for the first time in months.
Maybe not everything would be perfect.
Maybe some wounds would take longer to heal.
But for the first time, it finally felt like we were moving forward instead of just surviving.
Things got dangerously comfortable after that.
Not boring.
Never boring.
Just settled.
Like somewhere along the way, Christian stopped feeling temporary in my life.
And honestly, that realization hit me hardest one random Thursday night.
I came home exhausted from work, shoulders aching, in a terrible mood because my manager had dumped extra shifts on me last minute.
The apartment was quiet except for music playing softly from the kitchen.
And there was Christian, standing at the stove in gray sweatpants and one of my old t-shirts, cooking pasta absentmindedly singing under his breath.
I stopped in the doorway just staring at him.
Christian noticed me immediately and smiled.
There you are.
The warmth in his voice hit me directly in the cheSt. Hey.
I muttered tiredly.
Christian’s expression softened instantly.
Tough day?
I nodded once.
Without hesitation, he crossed the kitchen and wrapped both arms around me tightly.
No words.
No teasing.
Just warmth.
And Jesus Christ, I melted immediately.
“You smell like drywall.”
I mumbled against his shoulder.
Christian laughed quietly.
“Romantic.”
“I’m serious.”
“You still hugged me.”
“Fair point.”
He kissed the side of my head softly before pulling back enough to look at me.
“You eat anything today?”
I blinked.
“Coffee.”
Christian looked deeply unimpressed.
“Douglas.”
“What?”
“It was a large coffee.”
He pointed toward the kitchen.
“Sit down before you pass out dramatically.”
I obeyed mostly because I was too tired to argue.
Christian returned to cooking while I watched him from the counter stool.
And suddenly it hit me so hard it almost scared me.
This wasn’t temporary anymore.
This wasn’t just attraction or excitement or secrecy.
This was partnership.
The real kind.
The kind built quietly through routines and trust and showing up for each other every day.
Christian glanced over while stirring pasta.
“What?”
I realized I’d been staring.
“Nothing.”
“You’re doing the thing again.”
“What thing?”
“The emotional staring.”
I snorted softly.
Christian smirked slightly before walking over and setting a plate in front of me.
“Eat.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Disrespectful.”
But he was smiling when he said it.
Later that night we ended up tangled together on the couch while some terrible reality show played in the background.
Christian had one arm around my waist while I rested half against his cheSt. Again.
Easy.
Natural.
Home.
I tilted my head up slightly.
“Can I ask you something?”
Christian looked down at me.
“Depends.”
“Serious question.”
“That sounds dangerous.
I poked his ribs lightly.
Be serious.
He laughed quietly.
Okay.
Ask.
I hesitated for half a second before saying, “When did you know you loved me?”
Christian froze completely.
I immediately regretted asking.
Forget it.
No.
His voice had gone softer.
Christian looked thoughtful now.
Almost nervous.
Then finally he admitted quietly, “I think I knew before I let myself admit I liked men.”
That hit me hard.
Christian stared at the TV without really seeing it.
“I used to invent reasons to come over when my brother was hanging out with you.”
He confessed.
“I’d tell myself I just wanted beer or food or whatever.”
He laughed softly under his breath.
“Really, I just wanted to see you.”
My chest tightened painfully.
Christian looked down at me again.
“You’d smile at me and my entire week would improve.”
Jesus ChriSt. I buried my face briefly against his chest because I physically couldn’t handle him sometimes.
Christian laughed softly and wrapped both arms around me tighter.
“What about you?”
He asked quietly.
I looked up again.
“I think I fell for you the first time I saw you help your mom carry groceries in the rain.”
Christian blinked.
“That’s weirdly specific.”
“You looked really hot.”
“That’s more reasonable.”
“And you yelled at some guy for splashing her car with his truck.”
Christian groaned immediately.
“Oh, no.”
“You were wearing a black T-shirt.”
Douglas.
“And your arms looked okay enough.”
I was laughing hard now while Christian covered his face dramatically.
Then after a second he peeked at me through his fingers.
“You seriously noticed all that?
I smiled softly.
Yeah.
Christian stared at me quietly then.
Long enough that the teasing faded completely from both of us.
You know what’s crazy?
He murmured.
What?
I spent so much of my life terrified nobody would ever really know me.
His fingers traced lightly along my waiSt. But you always did somehow.
The vulnerability in his voice nearly wrecked me.
I kissed him softly before he could look away.
Christian sighed quietly against my mouth and pulled me closer.
Then his phone suddenly buzzed loudly on the coffee table.
Christian groaned dramatically without breaking the kiss.
If that’s Mateo asking for relationship advice again, I’m blocking him.
I laughed while he grabbed the phone.
But the second he looked at the screen, his expression changed.
Not bad exactly.
Just surprised.
What?
I asked.
Christian looked up slowly.
It’s my dad.
The room went quieter immediately.
Christian answered cautiously.
Hello?
I watched his expression carefully while he listened.
Then confusion crossed his face.
Tomorrow?
A pause.
You’re serious?
Another pause.
Then finally.
Yeah.
Okay.
He hung up slowly afterward.
I sat up straighter.
What happened?
Christian looked genuinely stunned.
He asked us to come over tomorrow.
For what?
Christian stared at the phone another second before answering.
He said he wants to talk about something important.
My stomach twisted instantly.
Christian looked equally uneasy now.
What do you think that means?
I asked quietly.
He exhaled slowly.
I have absolutely no idea.
And honestly, the uncertainty in his voice scared me more than if he’d sounded confident.
Neither of us slept well that night.
Christian pretended he wasn’t nervous.
Unfortunately for him, I knew him too well now.
He cleaned the apartment at midnight, twice, then reorganized the kitchen cabinets for absolutely no reason.
You’re stress cleaning.
I pointed out while sitting on the counter watching him aggressively wipe down already clean surfaces.
I’m being productive.
You alphabetize my spices.
Christian glanced over defensively.
It was chaos.
I snorted.
But underneath the teasing, tension sat heavy between us both.
Because either of us knew what his father wanted.
And honestly, that uncertainty dragged up every old fear Christian still carried.
Around 2:00 in the morning, I found him standing alone on the balcony outside the apartment staring out over the city.
He didn’t hear me walk up behind him.
Or maybe he did and just knew it was me.
I slipped beside him quietly.
Christian’s shoulders looked tense under his hoodie.
You okay?
I asked softly.
He exhaled slowly through his nose.
I keep waiting for things to go bad again.
The honesty in his voice hurt a little.
I leaned against the railing beside him.
Because of your dad?
Because of everything.
He laughed softly without humor.
This still feels too good sometimes.
I turned toward him slightly.
Christian kept staring out at the city lights.
When I was younger, he admitted quietly, I used to pray every night to wake up different.
My chest tightened painfully.
Christian swallowed hard before continuing.
I thought if I ignored it long enough, eventually it would disappear.
A pause.
Then I met you and suddenly ignoring it became impossible.
I stayed quiet because honestly, anything I said would have come out emotional.
Christian finally looked at me.
And the vulnerability in his face nearly destroyed me on the spot.
You ruined my entire self-denial plan.
He muttered.
That got a quiet laugh out of me.
I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around his waist gently.
Christian melted into the contact immediately.
I’m sorry your life got turned upside down.
I whispered against his cheSt. His arms tightened around me instantly.
Don’t ever apologize for that.
I looked up at him.
Christian’s expression softened completely.
You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Douglas.
And yeah, that absolutely wrecked me emotionally.
The next evening, the drive to his parents’ house felt even more tense than the dinner weeks earlier.
Christian kept flexing his fingers against the steering wheel unconsciously.
At one red light, I finally reached over and grabbed his hand.
He looked at me immediately.
Then his shoulders loosened just slightly.
Thanks.
He murmured.
For what?
Keeping me sane.
I smiled faintly.
Barely succeeding.
Christian huffed out a laugh.
When we arrived, his father was already outside waiting near the garage.
That immediately felt ominous.
Christian shut off the truck and muttered, “If he starts crying, I’m leaving.”
You say that every time.
And one day I’ll mean it.
But I noticed he took a deep breath before getting out anyway.
His father greeted us awkwardly.
No yelling.
No tension.
Honestly, that somehow made me more nervous.
Come with me.
He said to Christian quietly.
Christian frowned slightly.
Alone?
His father nodded once.
Christian immediately looked toward me.
Like he didn’t want to leave me standing there.
I squeezed his hand lightly.
It’s okay.
He hesitated another second before finally following his father toward the garage.
I ended up sitting awkwardly in the kitchen with his mom while she made coffee.
You look nervous.
She said gently.
I laughed weakly.
Is it obvious?
A little.
She smiled softly before setting two mugs on the counter.
Then after a quiet pause, she looked toward the garage door and sighed.
He’s trying very hard, you know.
I know.
He just She shook her head sadly.
Your generation understands things faster than ours did.
I stayed quiet.
Because honestly I didn’t know if understanding was the problem.
His mom touched my arm gently.
But he loves Christian very much.
Something about the way she said it made my chest ache.
A loud sound from the garage interrupted us suddenly.
Not angry.
More like something heavy falling.
Then silence again.
His mom sighed dramatically.
Probably old emotions.
I almost laughed into my coffee.
About 20 minutes later, the garage door finally opened.
Christian walked back into the kitchen firSt. And immediately I knew something had happened.
His eyes looked red.
Not fully crying.
But close.
My stomach dropped instantly.
Christian looked directly at me.
Then crossed the room in three quick steps and wrapped both arms around me tightly.
Right there in front of his mother.
Right there in the kitchen.
No hesitation.
I held onto him immediately.
What happened?
I asked softly.
Christian laughed once shakily against my shoulder.
Then he pulled back enough for me to see his face.
He gave me my grandfather’s ring.
I blinked.
What?
Christian swallowed hard.
He said, his voice cracked slightly before he tried again.
He said if I’m serious about building a life with you, then I should have something meaningful.
My brain stopped functioning.
Completely.
Christian looked emotional and stunned and overwhelmed all at once.
Then his father stepped quietly into the kitchen behind him.
The older man looked uncomfortable as hell emotionally, but determined.
I told him something else, too.
He said gruffly.
Christian looked over.
His father exhaled hard before speaking.
I told him I’d rather adjust to the truth than lose my son over my pride.
Silence crashed through the kitchen.
Christian’s face crumpled immediately.
And before I could even process what was happening, his father pulled him into a rough, awkward hug.
Christian hugged him back instantly.
Tight.
Years of tension breaking apart all at once between them.
I looked away briefly because honestly, it felt too personal and emotional to witness directly.
Then suddenly Christian reached toward me without letting go of his father completely.
Like he wanted both of us there.
And standing in that kitchen with the people he loved finally trying to meet each other halfway.
I realized something.
Christian wasn’t waiting for permission to be himself anymore.
He already was.
I didn’t think Christian could surprise me anymore.
I was wrong.
Three weeks after the dinner at his parents’ house, life settled into something dangerously close to peace.
His father still stumbled sometimes.
There were awkward pauses.
Careful wording.
Moments where old habits clearly fought against new understanding.
But the important part?
He kept trying.
And Christian noticed every single effort, even when he pretended not to.
One Sunday afternoon, we all ended up at his parents’ house again for a barbecue.
A real one this time.
No emotional disasters.
No tense silence.
Just food, music, and Mateo nearly setting something on fire because apparently that talent ran in the family.
I was helping Christian carry drinks out to the backyard when his mother smiled at us from the porch.
“You two look married already.”
Christian nearly dropped the cooler.
I started laughing immediately.
His mom looked delighted by his panic.
“Relax.”
She said.
“It’s cute.”
Christian muttered something in Spanish under his breath that definitely wasn’t polite.
But he was smiling.
That was the thing now.
He smiled so much more these days.
Less weight in him.
Less fear.
As we walked across the yard, Christian bumped his shoulder lightly against mine.
“You enjoying this?”
“Watching you panic?”
“Absolutely.”
“Cruel.”
“You love me.”
Christian looked over immediately.
The softness in his eyes still hit me every single time.
“Yeah.”
He said quietly.
“I really do.”
And even after everything, hearing him say it still felt unreal.
Later that evening, after everybody ate way too much food, the backyard slowly emptied out.
Mateo disappeared somewhere with friends.
His mom went inside to clean.
Even his father retreated indoors to watch baseball.
Eventually, it was just me and Christian sitting together near the pool while the sky darkened overhead.
Warm summer air drifted around us softly.
Christian leaned back in his chair with one arm resting across the back behind me.
Comfortable.
Relaxed.
Happy.
You know, he murmured.
Last year I would have been terrified to sit this close to you here.
I glanced over.
He was staring out across the water thoughtfully.
I used to spend so much energy making sure nobody noticed anything.
He admitted quietly.
A pause.
Now I don’t even think about it anymore.
Something emotional moved through me hearing that.
Because I remembered the man standing outside that club months ago.
Terrified.
Alone.
Convince his life would fall apart if anybody saw the truth.
And now here he was.
Openly touching my leg under the table while his family moved around inside the house.
No fear left in him at all.
Christian looked toward me then.
His expression softened instantly.
What?
You’re staring again.
I’m allowed.
He smirked slightly.
Dangerous answer.
Then his hand slid into his pocket slowly.
At first I didn’t think anything of it.
Until he pulled out the ring.
My brain stopped functioning immediately.
The same ring his father had given him weeks earlier.
Christian looked suddenly nervous for the first time all night.
Which immediately made my heart start hammering.
Christian.
He exhaled shakily and laughed under his breath.
Okay, so I definitely had a better speech planned.
I stared at him.
He looked terrified.
Not of me.
Of how much this mattered.
Christian rubbed his thumb nervously against the ring before speaking again.
I know technically this is faSt. He smiled weakly.
But honestly it doesn’t feel fast to me.
My chest tightened painfully.
Because I think some part of me has loved you for years already.
Jesus ChriSt. Christian looked directly into my eyes then.
Completely open.
Completely vulnerable.
You changed my life the second I saw you in that parking lot.
He said quietly.
Actually, probably long before that.
I could barely breathe now.
Christian laughed softly at my expression.
Then finally, I want every version of life with you, Douglas.
The world around me disappeared.
The pool, the distant sounds from inside the house, everything.
All I could focus on was him.
The man who once stood outside a club terrified of being seen, now sitting in front of me openly holding out a ring with shaking hands.
I want the apartment.
He continued softly.
The boring grocery shopping, the dumb arguments about laundry.
His eyes glistened slightly.
I want all of it with you.
My vision blurred instantly.
Christian swallowed hard.
So, he laughed shakily again.
You want to marry me or what?
I didn’t even let him finish smiling before kissing him hard.
Christian made this startled sound against my mouth before immediately kissing me back.
And somewhere inside the house, Mateo yelled, “Oh my god, it’s happening.”
We both started laughing against each other instantly.
Christian rested his forehead against mine afterward, smiling so hard it looked almost unreal.
I touched his face gently.
“Yes.”
I whispered.
The emotion that crossed his face right then was so raw and happy it nearly destroyed me.
“You serious?”
He asked quietly.
I laughed through tears.
“Yes, idiot.”
Christian kissed me again immediately.
And this time, when his family came rushing outside cheering and yelling around us, neither of us felt the need to hide anymore.
Because after years of fear, secrets, and pretending to be someone else, Christian finally got the one thing he never thought he’d have.
A life where he could be fully seen and loved anyway.
