A/N: I have never written anything so angst-less in my entire life. But I think all my readers deserve a break from all the Cherry angst I've been putting them through with my other stories, wouldn't you agree?

Not proof-read, so there will be typos and grammatical mistakes here and there, especially near the end and I am truly sorry I am too lazy to read through my work.

Here's a little song for you to read this to: Under Stars by Tom Felton. It explains and gives you an idea of what happens during the time that is skipped over.

He's going to trip and fall and then his nose will start bleeding and she'll think he's the grossest thing ever.

He's going to tug on his lucky blue tie too much and he's going to choke and die.

He's going to take one step too close to her and her fathers will go all Super Saiyan on him and kill him.

He'll drop the flower into her food and she's going to toss it all at his face and never speak to him again.

She'll laugh at his scribbled out drawing and call him an untalented loser.

Puck will find out he's here and make fun of both of them and she'll start crying and it'll be his entire fault.

She's going to use all those big words and get him confused and she'll call him stupid for not knowing all those words mean no.

She'll think his dad's fancy man perfume smells really yucky.

Mike eventually decides that he's just going to knock on the door after pacing around her front porch for a good twenty minutes thinking up reasons why this wasn't a good idea. He checks the Teenage Mutant Turtle watch on his wrist and notices it's a little after lunch hour. He breathes out a sigh of relief. All the food related disasters seem to fade out of his thoughts very quickly, but there's a new list of disasters replacing the old one as soon as the young boy realizes the door's opening.

He wants to run, he wants to hide, he wants to fly away screaming out of fear but he can't because his feet don't want to budge and the door's opening way too fast and soon he's faced with Leroy Berry, a bright, warm and welcoming grin plastered on his face. Mike stares up at the tall man, examining every line of his face and every strand of his hair. His body starts to relax when he's certain the man towering over him won't do him any harm and clears his throat.

"I wanted-"

No, no, that's not it! He thinks, shaking his head before he tries again.

"I would like to see-"

That's too business-y. He thinks as a sigh leaves his lips and Leroy's eyes are gleaming as he knowingly and patiently looks down at the boy in front of him, waiting for him to collect himself and try again.

"Can I see Rachel, please?"

All the man can do is nod before taking a step to the side to let the little boy in, too wrapped up in the sight of Mike in a black tuxedo that's a one size too big, untucked shirt, dirty white sneakers and a yellow rose (Rachel's favourite) hidden behind his back.

He's already fiddling with the end of his tie and visions of him choking on air pop into mind, making him want to dash for the door, but his eyes land on Hiram and he begins power walking up the stairs because the look on his face scares him terribly. The shorter man adjusted his spectacles, his eyebrow still raised in curiosity as he watched the young boy practically run up the staircase. His husband joins him and wraps an arm around his waist, softly whispering in his ear that this must be the boy Rachel's been going on about for ages now. They both share a chuckle and look at the now empty staircase before leaning in to press a kiss to one another's lips, satisfied that their daughter has a wonderful taste in boys and relieved they'll probably have nothing to worry about when she starts dating seriously in high school.

Mike can hear her laugh when he's outside her door and his stomach is going crazy; doing flips and twists and clenching and deciding now would be a good time to host a butterfly party. He doesn't want to knock on the door anymore, and he can't even hold onto the stem in his hand because his palm's are getting all sweaty and he can't remember if he wrote his letter on a piece of paper or on a rock because the pocket of his suit is suddenly really, really heavy.

He nervously raises his free hand up and knocks on her door, taking a deep breath before plastering the largest and happiest grin he could muster onto his face.

It takes a while before she opens the door, and in that time he thinks she knows he's there and is avoid him because she doesn't like him. He wants to slap himself in the face. Of course she doesn't like him, why in the world would she like him? Why didn't he think about this before he dressed up like his father does every morning and asked his mom to get him this stupid flower from the stupid vase on the stupid counter in the stupid kitchen? Why did he –

"Michael! You look dashing!"

I can't breathe.

I cannot breathe.

I think I'm tugging on my tie too much.

My throat is like, squeezing closed.

I'm going to die.

I'm going to die.

I'M GOING TO D—

"Michael? …Are you okay?"

He shoves the rose into her hand and starts fumbling with the stupid button that's stopping him from just giving her the note and running home to hide in his room. When he finally gets the button undone, he shoves it at her chest before running down the hallway to the stairs again. He stops mid step when he's half way to the half way point of his exit when he remembers something and runs right back to her. She's looking at him like he's just dropped out of the sky, and he can't blame her, but he wants more than anything to just make it out of there.

"Thank you, you look pretty too."

He's running away from her again before she gets to tell him he's more than welcome. She's a little too stunned to call after him and her legs decide to carry her back into her room instead. She flops back onto her bed, pouting her lip in thought as she looks between the slightly crumpled piece of paper in one hand and the beautiful rose in the other. The corners of her lips twitch upwards as her gaze lingers on the rose for quite some time before sitting up and gently putting the rose beside her, placing the paper on her knee and smoothing it out.

Deer Rachel, – she made a mental note to correct his mistake once she was done reading through the letter – my mom's making salad tomorrow night. And I asked if I could pick you up so you can come and eat dinner with us. She said your daddys (she didn't even notice this mistake, her cheeks were heating up and her brain wasn't functioning properly because all she could think about was how Mike wanted her to have dinner with his parents) could call my daddy and they'll bring you. And mummy said you should dress fancy, like I was when I came.

She jumped off her bed and ran out of her bedroom, waving her arms around in the air like a manic while chanting for her fathers as she made her way downstairs.

They shared a quick glance and a small smirk before looking behind them from their position on the couch, prepared for her after seeing Mike run out and scream goodbye a few minutes prior. She waved the paper in front of them wildly before Leroy manages to get a hold of it, his eyes going over the boy's words as he tried to hold back his smile, Hiram doing the same as he read over his husband's shoulder.

They bite back their chuckles at the little drawing of two characters at the bottom of the page being scribbled out but just enough for them to still be able to make out the outlines of the doodle before they turned their attention back to her and said she could go if she wanted to. She squealed and hugged the both of them before she started listing off what clothes she would have to wear and what shoes she had to polish before she could start watching the Wiggles again.

She's going to say no and he's going to be a disgrace to his entire family.

She's probably been having an affair this whole time, and now it'll have to come out in the open.

He's going to take a step too close and somehow, his shoe lace will be untied and he'll trip over himself and fall, taking her with him and embarrassing the both of them causing her to leave and hate him forever.

This isn't actually happening, it's one big dream and when he gets to kiss her, he'll wake up.

All these people are silently waiting for this to turn into a disaster.

He'll say something wrong and utterly stupid by mistake and she'll start crying and it would be his entire fault.

She's going to think his lack of cologne is absolutely tacky.

He suddenly can't do—

"And in honour of Rachel Berry's last night as Elphaba, we have a little surprise for her."

He suddenly has to do this.

He takes a few steps onto the stage and blinks his eyelids furiously as a way to adjust to the bright lights. He takes a look back at the clocks behind him and at the crowd staring at him, all screaming excitedly for they are all very aware of who he is. He takes a deep breath as one of his hands nervously tugs at his collar while the other is kept stashed inside his pocket. He spots his parents, her fathers and Shelby in the sea of unfamiliarly faces, smiling at him and giving him a thumbs-up as a way to give him some support and added encouragement. Still, he isn't so sure.

His yes land on her cast mates and they'll all winking or smirking at him knowingly and he considers making a run for it because although he's perfectly fine with dancing in front of such a large audience, doing anything else in front of such a big crowd still tends to scares him a bit. Tonight, a bit has morphed into way more than a lot.

But then his eyes land on her, face and hands painted green as her amber eyes twinkled with curiosity and anticipation and his stomach is doing that routine jumble up it always did when he sees her. The knots are tightening and the butterflies and flapping around happily to whatever music they've decided on dancing to.

He suddenly remembers that he wants to do this, that he needs to do this.

He ditches the piece of paper with his long, rehearsed speech that had been crumpling in his nervous fist and throws it to the ground before making a run for her, because it'll get him closer to her sooner, and before they know it his arms are wrapped around her waist and twirling her around the one spot on the stage as their lips merge and move in perfect union and those fireworks are going on like they always do and it's even better than the kiss they shared that morning.

There's a small microphone attached to his shirt and everyone else is thankful for it because if it hadn't been for that, they wouldn't have heard the words he had whispered to her once they both pulled away for a breath of air.

"Marry me."

Her eyes are watering and the arms she wrapped around his neck feel like they're trying to strangle him and before he knows it, she's crying as she forcefully pressed her lips against his. The kiss was desperate, like she needed confirmation that he was there and that it wasn't all a dream. He didn't care that his air supply was rapidly becoming nonexistent and that his lips were practically on fire and that her legs had wrapped around his and the heels of the boots she was wearing were digging into his back.

The sounds of the cheers all around them seemed so distant, so far away. It was just them in their little bubble, trying not to pull away in fear that any sudden movement would cause the bubble to pop and this entire moment would be over. They never wanted it to be over. But then it happened, their minds collectively started telling them they had to end it and they just carried on, deepening their kiss and ignoring the cat calls that had replaced all the innocently whooping and wooing.

I can't breathe.

I cannot breathe.

She isn't squeezing my neck tightly enough.

He isn't holding onto my waist firmly enough.

I'm going to die with her in my arms.

I'm going to die in his arms.

I'M GOING TO D—

She pulls away and they're both dizzy and he stumbles backwards as that one wonderful word leaves her mouth. So many times, it's toxic and he knows, right there and then, that he'll have her screaming them again when they're alone because it's sounds like music to his ears.

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes!"

She's laughing through her tears it's the most beautiful thing he's seen in the last ten seconds, because she's always the most beautiful thing he'll ever lay his eyes on, all the time, whenever she does anything. And he just kisses her again and there are flower petals being thrown at his face and she wants to moan so badly because somehow his hands found a way into her jeans back pockets and they both know they just never want to let go.

"I love you."

They murmurs those words to each other every time they try to catch a second's worth of fresh air and it their cheeks are turning redder and redder because they know that once they've worn themselves out with all of this affection, they're going to have to face a crowd that watched them doing it for a good ten minutes, managing to cheer them on and laugh at how so blissfully unaware they were that they were beginning to take each other's clothes off.

A yellow rose settles at his feet along with hundreds of others the crowd is currently showering them with and after all is said and done and he finally manages to get the ring out of his plaid shirt's pocket and onto her finger, he picks the rose up and hands it to her, tucking a stray strand of her from her face and leaning in to whisper in her ear.

"Your favourite."

All she can bring herself to do is cup his face in her free hand and kiss him again.

A/N: Just so you're clear, they started off ten and they're twenty five at the end. Wheeew.