It was the same park they met in, cliche as it was, though the weather was warmer and a lot less rainy than it had been on that day when the storm had blown Jean's umbrella out of his hands and right into Marco's face. The gesture was still romantic, Marco clinging tightly to Jean's arm as they approached the bench they had sat on when Jean had dug through his coat pockets looking for tissues and napkins to clean up the blood that was pouring down Marco's face from his nose.
Jean was nervous, and Marco noticed the falter in Jean's step and the tremors in his arm, and Jean was looking straight forward as they walked and Marco was a little worried that he was mad or something.
"Hey, this is where your umbrella broke my nose. Small world, eh?" Marco said, trying to lighten up Jean's mood. It didn't help, Jean only swallowed nervously.
"Sit down," Jean instructed when they reached the park bench, paint chipping and dry-rotted as it was. Marco sat with a smile on his face, his smile faltering as Jean continued awkwardly standing there not two feet in front of him.
"Jean? Are you okay?"
Jean's cheeks flushed as he dug through his back pocket, looking for a particular velvet box containing a particular ring that had completely drained his savings account.
Marco looked up at Jean with wide eyes when he saw the box in his hand, and his heart about exploded out of his chest when Jean went to kneel on the ground in front of him.
Everything stopped.
They both heard it.
They both smelled it.
Jean sat there with terror on his face as the wet started seeping through the knee of his jeans, and Marco sat there with his hand over his mouth, trying to stifle his laughing because the only thing that could ruin this moment any more would be if he started laughing at Jean's expense.
Jean made a mental note to check and make sure that some asshole hadn't let his dog wander around the area before getting on his knees, because nothing ruins a well-thought out proposal like kneeling in a pile of dog shit.
"M-Marco," Jean stammered, his face shining a bright scarlet. Marco snorted. "Will you marry me?"
Marco finally lost it, and he doubled over laughing until his diaphragm hurt, while Jean sat there with his face burning and buried in his hands and dog shit seeping through his pant leg. Marco reached forward and wrapped his arms around Jean's neck, pulling the thoroughly humiliated man forward and burying his face in his neck.
"Y-yes," Marco stammered, after his laughter had calmed enough where he could at least breathe. "Of course. But you'll have to change your pants first."
