“It is great!” Rafael says brightly, then pulls me into another kiss. “You’re great. Plus, you’re a queer person with your own amazing tattoos, so who better to put this together?”
I laugh and touch my back. Rafael finished the city tattoo about a month ago, but I still constantly catch myself in the bathroom, craning my neck to stare at it in the mirror. “Too bad I won’t be able to show it off.”
He shrugs. “You never know. Things get wild at the library, you might pop that shirt off by the end of the night.”
I laugh. “Don’t hold your breath.”
Rafael slips his hand into mine. “Really though, Alexander. I’m so proud of you. You did so much to support me while I figured out my new career. I hope I’ve done as much for you.”
I think about everything Rafael has done, the meals he’s cooked and the long hours he’s spent listening to me talk about the exhibit. He put me in contact with old tattoo artists around town I never would have tracked down on my own, and I don’t know how many Saturdays he spent in the archive with me, happily drawing in the corner until I called out for his help again.
All of it has made the research project possible, but honestly, what matters most is simply that he’s there. Every morning that we wake up together, every evening that we fall asleep in each other’s arms, it’s like a miracle. Rafael loves me, the same as I love him, and that remakes the entire world.
I squeeze his hand. “You’re the best boyfriend I could have imagined,” I tell him. “Seriously.”
Rafael pushes his glasses up as he smiles. “Good,” he says. “You, too.”
“Should we walk around the exhibit one last time? Dads will get to town soon, and I know they want to meet up for dinner.”
“Sure,” he says with a nod, then gestures toward the back. “Start there?
There are some photographs framed on the wall, images I carefully selected from many others. But as we approach, I’m surprised to see one black and white photograph in an unfamiliar red frame. I quicken my pace, confused, then peer at it.
It looks old at first, aged, but it’s set in a tattoo shop that I think I recognize. There’s one person laid out on a chair and another tattooing his chest. The guy getting the tattoo wears a sailor cap, and he’s got his hands folded behind his back. The artist is dressed in a black leather vest, like a biker outfit.
No, it’s not a stranger getting a tattoo in the photograph. It’s Rafael, my boyfriend.
I blink, suddenly seeing it clearly. “Wait a second,” I say with a laugh. “Is this a picture of you and Stone?”
It’s only when I read the thick, bold letters tattooed on his chest, though, that it all clicks.
WILL YOU MARRY ME?
I gasp and turn back to Rafael, who is down on one knee. He’s taken his glasses off, and he looks up to me, the dark of his eyes shining and a hesitant, gentle smile on his face. “Alexander,” he says, and my breath catches in my throat.
Holy cow, Rafael is proposing.
“You’ve always been the one for me,” he says. “It took me years to realize that was true, but now that I know that you’re my guy, I don’t want to waste any more time. I’m a better person because of you, Alexander, and I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you’re happy and loved, just like I am.” He pauses, and when he talks again, I hear a tremble in his voice. “You’re everything to me, Alexander. You’re my best friend and my boyfriend, and I want to make you my husband, too.”
I realize I’m crying as Rafael takes my hand, then pulls a small box from his pocket. He removes a slim gold ring, which he offers to me. “Will you marry me?”
I pull him up, desperate to kiss him and feel his body. “Yes,” I say, squeezing Rafael close. “Yes, yes, yes.”
He tries to slide the ring on my finger. Both of our hands are shaky, and we laugh as he struggles to do it.
“I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you, weirdo,” I whisper back.
We stare at each other, our gazes locked. The love surging between us is so strong, I can feel it everywhere, tingling my nerves.
“Wait a second,” I laugh. “Did you really tattoo that on your chest?”
Rafael laughs. “Magic marker, don’t worry.”
I grin. “Of course.”
He reaches out and gently wipes a tear away from the corner of my eye. “Even tattoos can fade with time,” he says. “But Alexander, I want you to know that you’re mine forever. As long as you’ll have me, I’ll be here with you.”
I rest my hand on my bicep, where Rafael first inked a heart onto my skin. We’ve marked each other in so many ways, grown so much over the years, but all that change has only brought us closer.
Like he said, even ink might fade, but love only grows stronger.
“Forever,” I agree.
The end
