Bromosexual

I smile appreciatively. “I was wondering if you thought it.”

“It’s all I was thinking about, unpacking Rudy’s shit.”

“What would you have done if I had been your roommate?”

Stefan’s face scrunches up. “The hell do you mean? I’d have been ecstatic. I’d have lucked out and felt like I could conquer the world with you as my ol’ roomie.”

“But what if we didn’t know each other yet?” I posit. “What if we just met for the first time as eighteen-year-olds without our history in Little League or high school baseball. Would you have seen me as a total dork?”

“Would you have seen me as ‘just another dumb jock’?”

“Shit, you’re never going to let me live that down.”

“Never,” he teases, then slaps my thigh. “Even if we didn’t know each other, I would’ve given you a chance. I would’ve had a buddy to go eat meals with, to commiserate over classes with, to cheer me on during all my … during all my games.” Stefan sighs suddenly, his face sagging. “Shit. I still think about that day and feel so much pain for letting you just … walk away like that.”

“Me too, Stefan. All the time.” I take his spare hand with mine, his other hanging atop the steering wheel as he drives, and lace my fingers with his. “I’m not gonna miss another moment of your life.”

Stefan takes his eyes off the road for a second to shoot me a little look, then blows me a kiss and says, “Me neither, babe.”

Babe.

That’s a recent development. The “babe” thing.

Not that I mind.

When we’re back home, changed into something nice, and about to head out to dinner to celebrate three years with Homerun Houses, I find myself hovering by the door with my heart racing its way up into my throat.

All of Stefan’s words are thumping in my ears like big hearts. I can’t think straight. I can’t wait a second longer.

I have to do it now.

“Stefan.”

He stops with his hand on the doorknob, turning back to face me. “Yeah, babe?”

I had this whole thing planned at the restaurant where I’d enlist the help of the server, plant something in his dessert, and get the pianist they always have on Fridays to play a song for us. All of those plans vanish. I don’t need an audience to witness this thing between us move on to its next natural step. Our love began in a secret, precious place that only the two of us knew.

“Come here,” I tell him.

Stefan lets go of the door, his face tight with concern. He comes up to me, his gaze meeting mine with worry. “What’s going on, Ryan? Tell me.”

“I don’t want to miss another moment of your life.”

“I know. We said that on the ride home.”

“But I mean it.” I reach back into my pocket and fumble to free the box. “I mean it, and I want to prove that I mean it.”

“Ryan …? What do you mean?”

The box comes out, and I clutch it with both my hands in front of me. Stefan’s eyes lower to it, confused.

Realization dawns in his blue, slowly widening eyes.

“R-Ryan …”

I drop to one knee.

“Holy shit.”

“Stefan,” I begin. “I … I know that we’re about to go out to celebrate three years with your company, but we’re also quickly approaching our four year anniversary of having reunited. That means we’ve known each other for fifteen years, Stefan.”

He looks completely shaken up. He wasn’t expecting this, not at all. Stefan, the man who’s taken a stoic gene or two from his deadpan dad, is about to shatter into a confetti storm of tears.

“I want to know you for fifteen more,” I tell him, peering up into his eyes. “And then fifteen more after that. And then fifteen more. On and on. Until the day I die.”

“Ryan Caulfield. Fuck. Ryan.” His voice is shaking. Tears fill his pretty blue eyes.

I pop the box open and lift it up to him, my hand trembling as I present the ring.

“Stefan Baker,” I recite just like the one hundred and forty-six times I practiced it in the mirror this morning and last night, “will you be my bromo for life, now and always?”

Tears dislodge from his eyes. “Fuck yeah, I will,” he answers.

I pull out the ring, toss the box behind me, then slip it on his finger. It’s a perfect fucking fit.

“Dude.” Stefan is the one trembling now as he stares down at the twisted band of gold that now enwraps his ring finger. “Is this real? Did this really fucking happen?”

“Yeah. I said it before, and I mean it, Stefan. I want you on my team. Only you. Forever and ever. Always.”

Tears spill down his face as he starts to giggle with hysterics, overwhelmed with happiness. His shiny, wet blue eyes meet mine for a brief second before he thrusts himself at my face to kiss me. I wrap my arms around him and clasp my lips to his.