Chapter Text
Chan opened the roof of the car when they entered the highway, much to Minho 's protests. "It'll mess up my hair, Channie," he argued, pouting as the cold air began to muss up the styled strands. "You'll look beautiful regardless of how perfect your hair is, Min, don't worry."
Minho blushed despite the cold, sinking into his coat in the driver's seat. "Flirt," he said through the fabric, "You're a terrible flirt." Chan laughed, "Just wait, I'll get flirtier as the night goes on." Minho huffed, but in all honesty, he was looking forward to their date.
The quiet was comfortable, but Minho turned up the music, the radio playing some sappy old romance song from the 980s. "Is it setting the mood?" Chan asked. Minho dared a glance over at him, breath catching at the way Chan's soft curls flew in the wind.
His statuesque face was illuminated by the headlights of their car, the soft moonlight above them, the lights of the city bouncing off his nose, forehead, reflecting out of his eyes. "You're pretty," Minho breathed, covering his mouth in horror at the escaped thought.
"If you think I'm pretty now," Chan mused, looking over at him to smile, "You'll be breathless when you see the view." Minho doubted that. Nowadays, he doubted that anything could be better than Chan. Impossible. An impossibility that Chan fell for him.
Chan began to hum along, foot slowly applying more pressure on the gas. Minho felt the speed in his veins as Chan shot through the dark and empty highway, the wind slapping his face in every direction. Exhilaration. Like he was a boy again. A teenager breaking rules.
He felt that way with Chan. Like he was young again, like he had so much life to live. Neverending. A speck of stardust next to the sun. The car slowed as Chan left the highway, "We're almost there" Minho nodded, reaching into the backseat to grab the picnic basket he'd prepared
The view Chan mentioned really was breathtaking. They got out of the car together, parked atop a small mountain perch. Spreading a small picnic blanket on the grass, Minho plopped on the ground, tugging the jacket around him to keep warm. "What do you see?" Chan asked, looking out.
"Stars," Minho breathed, breath fogging in the cold air, "Above and below." And that was true. The city lights cast a shining array of dots across the otherwise dark landscape. It seemed to stretch on forever, in every direction. The sky above him was clear, stars shining down.
"You were right," he joked, looking back at Chan, noting the curve of his nose, the lights in his eyes, "This view is prettier than you."
"But not as pretty as you," Chan muttered, turning so he could meet Minho 's eyes. A warm blush settled over his face and he cleared his throat.
“You know," He chattered out, teeth clashing, "We're really high up."
"We are," Chan agreed, looking worried, "Do you feel cold?”
"No, no," Minho answered, "I'm super warm, don't worry." He'd be damned if he ended the date short because he'd forgotten a warmer coat.
Chan nodded, but moved closer to him, taking off one of his own coats to put it over Minho 's shoulders. "This should keep you warm," he said, placing a soft kiss on Minho 's cheek.
"No fair," Minho whined, rubbing his cheek, feeling warmth spread down to his beating heart.
"What isn't fair, darling?" Chan asked him, slyly dropping an arm over Minho 's shoulders.
"I want to make you feel this way too," Minho muttered. He felt vulnerable, but that was ok with Chan. It was always ok with Chan. Still, he stared out at the view instead of at his boyfriend.
"You already make me feel like that," Chan mused, arms tightening around Minho 's shoulders, "Like the luckiest man ever."
Minho melted. He dropped his head on Chan's shoulder, "Stop that," He whined, "That title belongs to me." Chan placed his head atop Minho 's, lips softly brushing kisses on his head.
"Hey, Min?" Chan asked, voice carrying in the soft silence.
Minho preened at the sound of Chan’s voice, rubbing his head against his boyfriend’s neck, "Hm?"
"Want some music?" Chan asked, shaking to let Minho get off of him before hopping up. Minho felt the sudden absence sink into him like an anchor, he found himself reaching as Chan ran to the trunk of the car.
"You brought a guitar?!" Minho exclaimed, mouth dropping as Chan ran back, guitar in hand. "Thought it would be romantic." Minho bit his lip, waiting for Chan to start playing. "I have a question though, before I begin." Minho nodded, eager to hear Chan's music.
Chan cleared his throat, "You'll need to stand up for this." Minho cocked a brow, but did as Chan asked, standing up and pulling the coat tighter around his body. "Ok?" Chan cleared his throat again, and that was the first sign that something was off. Chan was never nervous.
"Be honest," Chan stammered (he never stumbled on his words), "I need you to be super honest and 100% certain when you answer this, ok?" Minho nodded, a bit worried. "Ok, uhm," (Chan rarely "uhm"-ed)
"Lee Minho ," Chan began, "I meant what I said, you make me feel like the luckiest man ever. I asked you what you saw, earlier, but I don't know if I could ever agree with your answer. I simply didn't see it. Cause even with the stars above and below, you're all I see."
Minho swallowed, breath caught in his throat as he waited. Waited for what his heart told him was coming. "So, will you marry me? And have me seeing the universe in your eyes for the rest of my life?" Minho let out a soft, almost broken sob. Words eluded him, impossible to catch.
"I-" He began, but the emotions of the moment finally caught up and he fell, in front of Chan, his entire world. He threw his arms around Chan, and tucked his head into his shoulders. "Screw you and your pretty proposal."
"Is that your answer?" Chan laughed, already knowing what Minho 's answer would be.
"Give me the ring," he said, keeping his face buried, "It better be diamond for all the work you put into this."
"I think it's even better than that,” Chan responded, giggling, and Minho felt the cool band slip onto his finger, "Look at it."
And Minho did. And he saw the small white stone, set perfectly amidst onyx, surrounded by smaller white stones. Like a starry night. "Do you like it?" Chan asked, stroking Minho 's hand.
"Yes," Minho breathed. He looked up, seeing stars in Chan's eyes.
Stars everywhere. On his ring finger, down in the city, up in the sky. And the brightest star, kneeling right in front of him, looking at him with all the love in the world. Minho believed in impossibilities. In the impossibility of Chan loving him. In the impossibility of love. In the impossibility of specks of stardust, destined to meet.