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Robert is in his favourite place in the whole fucking world.
He’s lying on Herm’s bed, not giving a single fuck about the crinkle and sound of the plastic sheets underneath him or about how absolutely drenched he is. His hands are buried in Herm’s hair, fingers tugging at the roots just enough to draw a low impatient groan from his boyfriend’s throat.
It is, perhaps, a little unfair to distract Herm from his current task of devouring his throat but Robert isn’t exactly a man of discipline when Herm’s mouth is pressed against the junction of his jaw and shoulder. He’s always been weak for the way Herm will sometimes just take what he wants.
He shifts his weight slightly so that his hands can run up and down Herm’s bare back in encouragement. His palms slide over warm skin, mapping muscles he could recognise blind. This action is taken as permission for Herm to be relentless. He’s found that sensitive notch right below Robert’s ear, and he’s currently alternating between soft pecks and a dragging suction that makes Robert’s toes curl against the mattress.
“Herm,” Robert breathes out, his head falling back against the covers. It comes out more like a plea than a name, stretched thin by everything he’s feeling.
In response, Herm shifts higher, his body a wonderful weight that pins Robert down in the best way possible. There’s no rush in the movement, just intent and that rare confidence that so few get to see. He moves his mouth from Robert’s throat to his jawline, nipping at the skin before finally capturing Robert’s lips.
It’s a deep drowning kind of kiss, tasting like rain and feeling like coming home. Herm’s tongue slides easily against his own, and Robert is more than happy to lose himself in the way he forgets how to fucking breathe and in the way Herm’s hands frame his face to hold him still. It’s possessive and gentle all at once.
Robert breaks the kiss for what is meant to be just a fraction of a moment, just enough to catch a lungful of damp air. He stays close, the tips of their noses brushing. He’s looking at Herm’s eyelashes, speckled with moisture, and the way his boyfriend looks so utterly wrecked and beautiful. The sheer comfort, the absolute certainty that he never wants to be anywhere else, overflows into words.
“We should just get married,” Robert blurts out, his voice smooth and lazy and not completely aware of what he’s just said.
Herm freezes.
His hands, which had been cradling Robert’s face with such steady intent, twitch. He doesn’t pull away, but his entire frame goes rigid, his heart thumping against Robert’s chest like a trapped bird.
“What?” Herm chokes out.
The rare confidence he’d been wearing just moments ago has evaporated, replaced by a startled wide-eyed look. His face, already flushed from the last hour, deepens into a frantic red that crawls all the way to the tips of his ears.
Robert feels a sudden spike of heat in his own cheeks. His brain finally catches up with his mouth, replaying the words in his head with agonising clarity.
He swallows hard, his throat feeling tight. He could laugh it off. He could say he’s feeling lightheaded and that it’s just the adrenaline talking but, as he keeps looking at Herm, Robert finds that he doesn’t want to take it back.
“I said we should get married,” he repeats, his voice steadier this time. He reaches up, fingers overlapping Herm’s hands where they still rest on his cheeks. “Don’t look at me like I’ve lost it. I mean it.”
Herm’s mouth opens and closes, no sound coming out for a long agonising second. He looks down at Robert like he’s trying to decide if this is a joke he hasn’t caught onto yet. His brow pinches into a frown.
“You—You can’t just say that while we’re—while we’re in the middle of—” He gestures vaguely between them with one hand, clearly at a loss for words.
Robert snorts, the sound soft rather than mocking. “Why not? Seems like a pretty honest moment to me. So…Would you? Marry me?”
“I-I…” Herm is still searching his face, eyes darting from one eye to the other like he’s hunting for a crack, for a sign that this is just reckless with words. Whatever he finds there makes him swallow hard instead. The tension in his shoulders shifts, and he leans back slightly as if he wants to actually see Robert properly.
“You—You’re serious,” he says, more to himself than anything else.
“Yeah.” Robert nods once, his gaze steady and unblinking. “I am.”
Herm exhales like those words hold a weight all of their own, like it’s something fragile he’s afraid to drop.
“You don’t j-just say things like that,” he continues. “Not unless you’ve…you know. Thought about it.”
Robert reaches for Herm’s other hand, to where they’ve shifted to rest against his chest. His thumbs brush over Herm’s wrists, feeling the rapid pulse there, hoping to soothe whatever troubles must be fluttering about his mind.
“I have thought about it,” Robert says simply. “Maybe not in the whole…rings and guest list and vows kind of way. But…yeah. I’ve thought about waking up next to you ten years from now and— Herm. Herm, are you crying?!”
“No! Yes… I-I don’t know!”
Herm lets out a wet laugh, the sound breaking halfway through, and he lunges forward, burying his face back into the crook of Robert’s neck. Bringing his arms up to wrap tightly around those shaking shoulders, Robert laughs too as holds him.
“Y-You—! You’re such—! I c-can’t believe you, Robert.”
“Yeah, I know,” Robert murmurs, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips. It isn’t exactly a cinematic masterpiece of a proposal, but it feels right. He presses a kiss to the top of Herm’s damp head, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to take it all in. “But you didn’t answer my question. I’m hanging by a thread here.”
Herm pulls back just enough to look at him. His eyes are bloodshot and overflowing, his nose a blotchy pink. He takes a shuddering breath, trying desperately to blink back the fresh wave of tears that threatens to follow the first.
“Yes,” Herm whispers, the word barely audible. Then, stronger: “Yes. Obv—Obviously, yes. I just…” He lets out a shaky exhale that ends with a small defeated huff. “I’ve had—T-There’s a ring in my bedside drawer. Had it there for… A-Around three months. You ruined my entire plan.”
Now it’s Robert’s turn to freeze, his heart skipping a beat.
“You what?”
“I wanted to—I was waiting for the right moment!” Herm swipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I wanted it to be… I don’t know, planned out? Dinner somewhere nice or f-fancy. Maybe a weekend trip? Flowers?”
Oh, sweet darling Herm. Robert does not deserve him. He thinks of Herm sitting there, night after night, with a ring just inches away, waiting for a ‘perfect’ moment that Robert just blundered through.
He reaches for him again, cupping Herm’s face with both hands, bringing him close to press a gentle kiss to the very tip of his nose.
“I think this is better,” Robert says. “Just us. Right now.”
Herm looks at him for a long beat, the frantic energy in his eyes finally settling into something warm and shimmering. He leans down, forehead against Robert’s.
“Just us,” Herm echoes. “O-Okay. Yeah. Let’s do it. But I want—You’re still going to wear the ring I got—bought for you… Please.”
Robert chuckles, pulling him into one more tight embrace.
“Deal.”
They hold the ceremony only a few months later.
It’s a small celebration, even if having the entire Z-Team present makes it feel like there’s a giant crowd crammed into the space.
The venue is a quiet, rented-out community hall on the edge of the city. Nothing flashy, which suits them both perfectly. Robert stands at the front, tugging at the collar of his dress shirt, which feels far too restrictive for a man who spends most of his life in his SDN uniform or in one of Herm’s shirts.
He catches sight of Herm’s grandmother through the corner of his vision, sitting in the front rwo with her spine straight as a rod. One simple arch of her brow halts his fiddling instantly, and Robert forces himself to stand still, hands dropping to his sides.
The doors at the back of the hall creak open, and the incessant chatter of the Z-Team dies down immediately. Robert’s breath catches in his throat as he turns toward the sound.
Herm is walking down the makeshift aisle, looking terrified and radiant all at once. He’s wearing a suit that fits him beautifully despite the hem already being darkened by moisture, and he’s clutching a small bouquet like his life depends on it.
Chase walks with him, and gives Robert a wink when they reach the end of the aisle before retreating to his seat.
“Hey,” Robert whispers, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes notice of how glassy Herm’s eyes are already. “You didn’t run.”
“N-No, but I did nearly slip on the—on the way in,” Herm stammers, his tone frantic with the same excited nerves that dance through Robert’s blood. “I might have—There’s water e-everywhere out there, I-I’m sorry.”
Robert’s smile widens and he shakes his head to let Herm know that he will never make him apologise for his power. He reaches out to steady Herm’s shaking hands, fingers curled perfectly together, and waits for the moment he will finally be able to call him husband.