WHAT. Gansey treats Blue to a weekend away, post-babysitting job. WHERE. Galdin Quay suite WHEN. After the age-plot. WARNINGS. It’s long and incredibly cute and fluffy. STATUS. Complete!
Gansey normally shied away from spending the amount of money that Galdin Quay cost on a room, but this was a special circumstance. Blue had put up with four-to-five curious, adventurous, rambunctious boys for a full week. They’d all been polite to a certain degree, but there was nothing to be done for the sheer amount of sticky hands she’d suffered.
Not to mention the bathroom.
He knew it had been an exhausting week for her, and while it wasn’t often Gansey did things as a surprise - so there had been an hour warning before waypointing them to Galdin Quay and directing her to their suite. He’d packed them an overnight bag, but the room came equipped with robes he had every intention of spending the entire weekend in, unless they ventured outside.
If the king-sized bed wasn’t enough to sate any arguments, he hoped the room service would do it. As it was, they’d already been greeted by a charcuterie platter straight off of Pinterest, accompanied by champagne and orange juice for mimosas.
He jumped only a little when he popped the champagne bottle and started pouring. “I swear to you, I didn’t tell them it was a special occasion.” Even if their anniversary wasn’t far off. “What orange juice ratio are you feeling?”
Last week was a fever dream. A weird, strange, close-to-nightmarish fever dream. She didn't hate kids, and she didn't hate anyone in the house—contrary to popular belief—but having them all under the age of ten was a testament to her good will and sanity. But no one lost any limbs, or died, or told her how much they thought she was the worst, so Blue was counting it as a win.
But then Gansey offered to take her to Galdin Quay as an apology and peace offering, and Blue realized she was probably the luckiest person in the world. This was, of course, after she had given Gansey an uncomfortably long, skeptical look—one that said why and what did you do and just ask me. She had suspected that Gansey was up to something, but she also didn't want him to sweat it out, especially if he was just trying to make it up to her for worrying.
Gansey had been the central point of her worries when he was young. He had been the central point for her worries for a while now, but she hadn't worked up the nerve to confront him about it. Chicken, a little voice in her brain said.
Blue decided to say fuck it, in her own Blue Sargent way, agree to the trip, and decided—after she had put on the robe that oozed luxury—that she wouldn't mind this more often. Like Gansey, she had no intention of being in anything but this robe.
She was starfishing on the bed, where none of her fingers or toes came close to touching the edge, only lifting her head momentarily at the pop.
"A smidge of orange juice," Blue said, laying back down, and holding her hand straight up in the air to rub her index and thumb together: the universal sign for smidge. "If they are going to insist it is our anniversary, then I'm going to let them. Should we tell them it's your birthday or mine? What other special occasions do people come here for that we could get away with?"
Gansey followed the smidge advice for hers, though his own had twice as much orange juice - he liked it more than he liked champagne. “I’m not going to lie.” For the price that he had been paying for this room, a few extra amenities were welcome, anyway, but he didn’t want to risk playing it up and earning someone’s ire.
He leaned over and offered up Blue’s mimosa with a quick kiss. “Besides, in Vallo, it’s probably something like “congratulations on surviving the apocalypse, let’s celebrate”, and we’re a month late for that.” Though it was a good excuse, as far as Vallo went. They certainly had unique situations. Congratulations on not staying dead again, maybe. But that wasn’t a thought he wanted to dwell on, especially now.
Instead, Gansey focused on Blue. He moved the charcuterie board into her reach and settled himself on the edge of the bed. “Think we could fit something this size in our room? We might have to sacrifice a little walking room.”
Blue finally sat up, to drink her mimosa, but continued to stay rooted in the middle. The bed was her new home, she wasn't leaving. "I don't know," Blue said, inspecting the lay of the land, the possibility of squishing a king size bed into their room at the Barns. "If you don't mind opening the door and just meeting bed I think it could work." She grinned and leaned over to steal another kiss from Gansey, before picking up a piece of cheese and offering it to him as well.
"But, back to your point." Blue popped an olive in her mouth, and chewed thoughtfully. "We still could celebrate that. Just because it's been a month, doesn't mean we missed the chance. I think surviving an apocalypse counts at any time. You can't put a price tag or a timestamp on celebrating outliving a shitty future."
At least that's what Blue seemed to think. They hadn't talked about it much because she didn't want to keep bringing it up when it was only a possibiliy not a certainty. Ignorance is bliss, and blah blah blah. But she couldn't lie and say she didn't think about it. She gave Gansey a longing look, like he was already gone and too far away from her.
Blue tugged at his robe. "Come closer, you don't have to sit on the edge of the bed. This is an equal opportunity bed."
Gansey laughed and slid his mimosa onto the side table before giving into her pull. “You say that it’s an equal opportunity bed,” He paused, and took the opportunity to cup her jaw in his hand and tug her forward to kiss her again, this time with more purpose. He hovered above her for a moment, then settled in close. “Until it’s four am and I’m being pushed to the very edge by your starfishing.”
Through the years, of both living with her and being an insomniac, he’d learned to navigate around sharing a bed and being less intrusive or annoying at the same time. And it was nice when the starfishing was directed at him - all of it was nice. Fighting over blankets, the moments where Blue turned into him and Gansey slotted her head right into the crook of his neck and they dozed until light came in through the window. The moments where he curled up behind her as their alarms went off and he ended up sliding into work five minutes late. Equal opportunity bed indeed.
He pulled her closer to his side. “I’m so very lucky to have you, Blue Sargent. In this world and in every other that we have each other. I’m sorry if that doesn’t continue through each universe, like it should.”
"You won't have to worry about being pushed off if we had a bed this big," Blue preened, her whole face lighting up when Gansey came in for a kiss that wasn't a chaste exchange. She was quick to put her own mimosa glass down when they parted so that she could curl up with him too.
It had felt like the moments for this quality time had been so skewed these last few weeks. They were busy adults with busy lives. Worry had taken a backseat in Blue's mind because she simply didn't have the time. And she didn't want to put that little wrinkle back between Gansey's brow by bringing it up. They could just fall asleep here and spend their mini-vacation-anniversary-celebration-whateveration never leaving one another's side.
Blue tucked in, like she always did, against Gansey, right under his chin. "I can't believe you're apologizing for something not your fault. Like categorically, not your fault," Blue said, slotting her legs between his so she was starfishing the other way around him. Like a octopus. "I'm lucky to have you too, and I'm going to pretend those other worlds don't exist. Having you is the only thing that matters, the rest is..."
She shook her head against him, hiding her face, and held on tighter.. "The rest is terrible to think about. I don't want to turn out like sad, miserable versions of myself. It's you and me, ride or die."
He didn’t like to think about it either. Or dream about it. Or dwell, when it was stuck in the back part of his mind in the middle of the night. It was there regardless, though he had felt better getting some of it off his chest when he talked to Adam.
But then Gansey was with Blue, and she did things like wrap every limb she had around him, and all of that felt far away. The worries seemed to seep off, and he relaxed, he could feel himself sinking into the bed with her as his entire body and mind quieted.
Well, as much as anything quieted when it came to Gansey. “I don’t think any part of you could be miserable, I don’t think she was miserable. I think she was a survivor, and that you’re both exceptionally strong and capable.” He felt bad for her even if she didn’t want that pity, but Gansey had this Blue here and now and didn’t want to blow that.
He let out a breath. “Have you ever reevaluated your thoughts on marriage? In the last few years, I mean?”
Just because Blue was strong and capable, didn't mean she wanted to be a survivor. That future seemed difficult, and sad, and in order not to cry every single day, Blue was certain a version of herself would have compartmentalized a lot of her emotional breakdowns. She could handle one or two, but a constant struggle to keep it together? She never wanted to be that tired, mentally or physically.
She made a small noise of acknowledgement, that she was listening to what he was saying—complimenting every version of her—but it was the question that followed, that made Blue abruptly pull her head back from where she was hiding in Gansey's robe.
"Where did that come from?" Blue asked, a knee-jerk reaction. Marriage made her raise her hackles, get strangely defensive in the moment. But it was a habit, and Blue's demeanor went from promptly ready to put up all the anti-institutional walls to softening into someone who was open to having that conversation. They hadn't in a long time, and all the talk of future versions of themselves made it inevitable to talk about their future.
"I've thought about it, if that's what you're asking. It's hard not to when we are surrounded by happily married couples who don't make it seem like it's a death sentence to autonomy."
Gansey tensed, immediately. He had already been overthinking this, worrying that it was too soon to even risk saying anything without getting his feelings hurt. Marriage itself had never been a deal breaker, not with Blue. To his parents, it might have been - they wanted him to get married, but they also wanted him to get married to someone tall, blonde, and republican.
Blue was none of those things but was everything he’d ever wanted in a soulmate. So if she wanted to stay at a point where there was no legal ties between them and in anything considered a societal norm, that was okay. But there would always be that small pang of rejection as the idea of a outright “no” slithered into his chest. This was why he hadn’t asked yet.
“I was just curious,” He could still get out of this with at least a portion of his dignity, though he couldn’t get out this being the hold Blue had on him, so it would have to be in spirit only. “Mostly because we’re surrounded by “happily married couples who don’t make it seem like it’s a death sentence to autonomy”.” His cheeks pinkened, even as he repeated her. “But it’s not important.”
Blue was on to him, she was so on to him. It wasn't just the tensing that gave away his feelings, but the way he was quickly dismissing it as simple curiosity or it being not important. But Gansey didn't just say things frivolously. She had been around him for years—nearly a decade at this point if she was counting everything, which she was—to not know that Gansey did nothing by the halves. Even conversations that he was just curious about.
"No," Blue said, as she tried to hold him closer, making sure he wouldn't bolt. It was impossible, but she had seen Gansey do hundreds of impossible things before. "No, that's not it. And no, it is important. Just give me a second here, I need to think about how I want to say this."
She was not quick with words, and she knew to be sensible about conversations with weight. A small nugget of worry came over her: if she said the wrong thing, or she didn't say it clearly, they may never have this conversation again.
"I don't hate marriage." This was said slowly, as if the words were forming as they left her mouth. "I don't hate the institution of marriage when it comes to you." That sounded terrible, and Blue's whole face scrunched up. "Ugh, this is coming out all bleh.. I'm not good at this."
Blue tried one last time. "If you asked me right now, I would say yes."
Oh.
Gansey blinked owlishly, a good half-dozen times, both at Blue and just at the blank space in front of him. That hadn’t been what he’d expected when he asked, even if he’d been hopeful for a positive response. But that--
He let out a breath, slowly, so he didn’t betray every single emotion on his face with a giant grin right out of the gate. But he couldn’t keep it entirely gone, as his mouth twitched in response. But then he shook his head, suddenly a little panicked. “I can’t do that, I didn’t bring the ring. And I didn’t tell Adam and Ronan, which is only fair because they talked to me about their proposal first, So--” It would be all wrong, and for something this important, it had to be right. Blue deserved that.
She deserved so much more than that, too, but he was only one human.
“Okay.” Now the grin was growing, getting unleashed as it took over his face. “I swear to not publicly embarrass you or do something ridiculous, in the future, when this comes up again. But I’m uh- glad to hear it.”
Whatever worry or concern she had about being vulnerably honest with Gansey melted at his own panic. She let him go through the immediate thoughts: not prepared, not having told people yet, wanting to have the ring—the last one was fair even if, to Blue, not necessary. She would marry Gansey, with or without it. Even if she had a sneaking suspicion that he might have already had one and was waiting, patiently, for Blue to come around.
She had caused him so much unmeasurable stress when Blue could have said something sooner. She felt a little mean making him wait, making him wonder if this was all there was between them. She put the tips of her fingers to his mouth to hide his infectious grin.
"You are being ridiculous right now," Blue said, not unkindly. She was working so hard to hide her own obvious smile that her face was doing complicated gymnastics and not hiding it at all. "And what if, what if I wanted to ask you? Maybe I brought a ring, maybe I already talked to people—"
Blue quickly cut herself off not wanting to give Gansey the wrong idea that she might propose to him, after just admitting that she didn't hate the idea as much as she had before, in this hotel room surrounded by thinly sliced meats and cheeses.
"I didn't! Sorry, I don't want you to, you know, think this is happening here. I just want you to know that there are non-traditional options for this sort of thing."
“I am not,” Gansey objected with a face that had equal amounts of ridiculousness attached to it. It was nice that they were even on that, at least, as he felt a little less ridiculous when Blue was being just as ridiculous as he was. (And a little more ridiculous when he said the word “ridiculous” enough times that it stopped sounding like a real word in his brain.)
At the idea of Blue being the one to propose, his cheeks flushed with pleasure. So, perhaps he was into the idea of her doing just that, but he’d always truly enjoyed it when she set society on its side and did things her own way. It was the quickest way to make his mother annoyed and Gansey pleased all at once. “It’s not a competition, Blue Sargent. But I have nothing against the idea of you taking the initiative, it’s always enjoyable when you do. But,”
It wasn’t a strong “but” that Gansey had, even if he got more serious in this moment. He just needed her to know things before they got too carried away. “I don’t want you to think I’m not happy with how things are. I am. I love you, and plan to be with you as long as you’ll have me, marriage or not. It’s never been a requirement, just-- a nice bonus.”
"Oh it's definitely a competition, I'm sorry. That's just the rules of this whole thing, that we are dictating right now," Blue said, sounding smug and amused. She was halfway into burrowing into Gansey again, feeling more goddamn effervescent than she had before the mimosa, when he offered his but.
Blue's expression went curious, a little more serious. She didn't think that Gansey was about to take back everything he said, but there was an obvious clarification he needed to make. Her hand snuck up to touch his cheek, as if to say I know and I love you too.
"I have given you this perception that marriage is not—" She sighed, again, not really someone who could accurately put her words comprehensively together—except when she was pissed, she'd yell a stream of consciousness if she could. It took her a clumsy attempt at first, but she always tried for Gansey. "I have not had good examples of marriage, and that was because, I think, the love didn't stay. It's not sad, but just the fact of it. Reality or relationships. But."
"That's not the case with you. I would have you forever, bonuses and all."
Gansey settled his arms around her easily and pulled her in a little closer (if that was even possible at this point, being as she’d starfished him quite thoroughly). There was not much he appreciated more than Blue when she went through the motions to explain something to him in her own way - it was incredibly hot when it was historical fun facts, but it was like a language of love when it was something personal.
“I don’t want a marriage if it’s like my parents, where they merely tolerate each other in the most shallow of ways for political gain.” He was certain at some point his parents had loved each other, but it had never been like it was for Blue and Gansey. Never that heart-stopping (sometimes literally) all-encompassing thing that he let wash over him on a daily basis.
With Blue it felt right, in it’s own way. Being with her was better than the satisfying sound a puzzle piece made when it found it’s home.
“I’d like to someday see what it’s like with you,” he pressed a kiss to her collarbone, laughing again at the idea of this being a competition. One he had no doubt she would win. “Bonuses and all.”
Blue snorted, unable—or unwilling—to hide her contempt for the Republicans. They were never truly parents to Gansey, not in the way they should be and so she had promptly disassociated from them. They were just people Gansey had for adults. Just some people that had put Gansey in a house when he was little. Just some people who Gansey somehow, inexplicably, managed to be unlike.
"Yeah, we're not going to be anything like your parents," Blue said, with all the finality of her usual threats. "In fact, we'll be so unlike your parents that I think we can't even say you're related. We're so goddamn in love it's going to make people sick." The determination coming off of Blue was intense. She didn't think she could love Gansey more, but she was going to show everyone. Everyone.
She gathered up his face in her hands and kissed him, a little promise. After spending most of her life believing she was cursed, the novelty of kissing Gansey never wore off. It meant more after this conversation too. "All right, so now what? We've talked. We're on the same page. You're going to lose a competition you brought upon yourself..."
There was a contemplative pause, before Blue held up her index finger between them. "Twice actually, because I haven't asked you to prom either."
That determination from Blue, that grumption, the pure confidence as it rolled off of her, it only made his grin widen. It made him love her all the more, which probably proved her point in some way, but it just made him happy he had her. He enjoyed physical affection, it was something he had to get used to in a more public format.
But now that he had it? He couldn’t bear to lose it. Now that there was free reign to hold hands everywhere, and to catch her as she jumped in his arms on a market day, or get pulled behind the barn as they crossed each other’s paths for the first time in several hours.
Gansey leaned back slightly to squint at her. “Now we enjoy our quiet weekend. Do you actually want to go to prom? You hated everyone at yours back home.”
Blue hummed in agreement, a quiet weekend was appealing—and the whole reason she agreed to come in the first place. She still held her breath in fear at opening the bathroom after three young boys had tornadoed through it. She was used to chaos and mess from Fox Way but this was different.
She settled against Gansey, tipping her face up in an overly dramatic contemplative look. "But I don't hate everyone here, there's a difference. And we have to win Best Promposal. We're multitasking, or whatever you want to call it. Overachieving. I win two proposals, we win another weekend here, and we declare ourselves the reigning power couple of the Barns," Blue said, as she leaned in to kiss Gansey on the cheek.
"I see no downside to you saying yes. I could make you a pros and cons list if that will sweeten the pot? Match fancy outfits. Themes. Getting to rub it in our friends' faces." Blue could have been talking about the prom or their potential future wedding, it was hard to tell.
Gansey’s face slowly lit up, word by word, it grew. If there was anything he enjoyed, it was fancy outfits. Themes. Overachieving. The fact that she wanted to throw in a pros and cons list was just-- the icing on the cake.
“You’re really talking my language here, Blue.” He may not have been her desired eye-candy when it came to fashion but he did clean up well. She was hitting all the right bullet points if she wanted him on board and she had to know it.
He didn’t mind. It was the opposite even, as he thoroughly enjoyed how well she knew him.
Gansey smoothly flipped them, a move he didn’t normally jump to when he enjoyed how well Blue settled on his lap, but it gave him a better view to make eye contact with her. “I am going to respectfully require this pros and cons list before I fully say yes, you understand. However, as we’re on an electronic ban for the weekend, I think we have a little time to get distracted first. What say you, Ms. Sargent?”
Blue's eyebrows arched so high when Gansey flipped them that they might have disappeared into her hairline. The grin she sported immediately after was even wider, and more devious. She liked this version of Gansey—but to be fair she liked all versions of Gansey, except for the one that schmoozed with the people he hated because it was basically a shade of the man she loved—but this one was rare. The Gansey on fire that he saved for only the people closest to him. Blue felt exceptionally special.
"I think I can agree to that, Mr. Gans—god, no. I'm sorry I can't. I can't call you that. Just come here instead," Blue said, dragging Gansey into a kiss she had no intention of stopping any time soon.