"So, how long has it been?" Tintin asked Archibald out of the blue one night while they were in bed.

"Since when?" the older man asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You said that one night that you've 'had feelings for me for a while,' but how long is 'a while?'"

Archie chuckled nervously, a tad embarrassed. "Well…"

"Let's see…we need eggs, bread, milk…and some more dog food," Tintin read off of his shopping list as he and Snowy took a walk down to the market. It had been but a few days since Tintin's last adventure in Morocco, and he was more than happy to be home.

"Glad everything sorted out back there with that business," Tintin thought aloud. "Just hope the captain's feeling better."

Captain Haddock had been on the radio the other night to give a speech as a representative of the Society for Sober Sailors. Upon drinking a glass of water, he suddenly fell ill and had to be sent home. Tintin had called the radio station, and they had told him that the captain would be peachy-keen by the next day, but he wouldn't mind hearing it from the captain himself. Ever since they had exposed those drug-smugglers, Tintin and Haddock hadn't seen much of each other. It's a shame I didn't catch his telephone number, thought Tintin, I wonder what's become of him? The reporter was lost in his train of thought when he bumped into someone.

"Pardon me," said Tintin absentmindedly, until he saw whom he had bumped into.

"Speak of the devil-Captain Haddock!"

"Blistering barnacles! It's Tintin!" the old sea dog greeted back in a pleasant surprise. "How are you, lad?"

"I was about to ask the same thing!" the redhead laughed, shaking the captain's hand. "I'm fine, thank you. Glad to see that you're well again."

"Same here," Haddock replied. "So'd you get my present in the mail the other day?"

"Yes, I did, and I'm sure if he could talk, Snowy would thank you very much for the bone. Wouldn't you, Snowy?" Tintin said, to which Snowy barked happily in response.

"Good to hear," the captain said before cutting to the chase.

"So, Tintin…are you going to be free this weekend?"

"This weekend?" Tintin cocked an eyebrow at the sudden question. "Well let's see…yes, I should be. Why do you ask?"

"Well, we haven't seen much of each other since putting that treacherous sea-slug behind bars," Haddock began, referring to Allan, "and I thought, if it was okay with you, maybe we could…y'know," he paused, hesitant for a moment, "…maybe hang out sometime? Like, go grab a bite for dinner or something? I know this little place by the docks that serves some mean lobster for cheap, and they give you free refills…?"

Tintin could have sworn he saw a pinkish hue overtaking the captain's face, but kept the thought to himself. He gave the captain a warm smile.

"I'd love to."

"Really?" the captain replied a little too excitedly before composing himself. "I, I mean, really?"

"Of course! So, at what time? Does Friday at seven sound good?"

Something in the captain appeared to be brighter upon hearing Tintin's approval.

"It sounds perfect," he replied; grinning from ear to ear, still pinkish.

"And to think," Tintin laughed, staring up from the ceiling. "I had no idea you were asking me out on a date way back then." He giggled again and scooted himself closer to Haddock, resting his head on the older man's shoulder.

Archie felt a blush creep up his cheeks, but smiled back all the same. "Took a while for you to figure that out, huh Mr. Reporter?"

"Well, you were beating around the bush quite a bit," admitted the redhead. "Especially with that one thing you said while we were eating. You were trying so hard to be sly about it…"

"It's delicious!"

The captain had been right about the lobster at this restaurant. Perfection.

"I'm glad you like it," Haddock said, chuckling a little. "To be honest, I haven't eaten this well since that one time with Elsa Herring."

"Elsa Herring?"

"An old flame of mine," Haddock admitted, taking another bite of lobster. "Before I caught her with one of my crew members, anyway. Dismissed him, and then broke it off with her."

"I'm sorry to hear about that."

"Come to think of it, it never really seemed like we were going anywhere to begin with," the captain sighed, reaching behind his head to scratch an itch that wasn't quite there. "I mean, sure, I was a horny young man like all the others back then, but I had still wanted a real relationship. She was just in it for the 'thrills,' y'know?" Another bite before continuing. "In the end, I think it was a good thing that I dumped her. But what about you?"

"Me? W-Well, on the contrary," Tintin became flushed at the subject suddenly shifting to his direction. "I've never really been with someone. I-I mean, I kissed a girl once, but it was at a party while we played Spin the Bottle, so I don't think it really counted."

"You're joking!" the captain's disbelief was purely genuine.

"I wish I was," the boy chuckled nervously, taking a sip of water to wash away the awkwardness.

"Thundering typhoons, I'd think you'd have the girls all over you; I mean, look at you! A boy reporter who travels the world and fights crime like a pint-sized Sherlock Holmes…without a date…some taste they must have."

"To be fair though," Tintin defended, a little bashful from the Captain's words, "I started reporting when I was sixteen. And starting from there, I was gone a lot—I've traveled to Soviet Union, Africa, South America, England, Scotland, Slydavia, you get the idea—and didn't really have much time to socialize with others."

"I see."

"But I don't really mind it," he admitted. "I've never really needed to have a girlfriend or anything like that."

"Oh, come on!" the captain was a little shocked at hearing something like this come out of someone as young as him. "You're talking like an old man! Surely you'd like to meet someone special and fall in love with them someday, right?"

"I don't know…maybe someday, but it's not a top priority for me right now."

"You know you really shot me down when you said that," Archibald had his input on this scenario. "I remember thinking, 'You done goofed now, Archie! All that planning had gone to waste!'"

"Not entirely!" Tintin reassured his lover's past attempts, absentmindedly making circles with his finger on Archie's chest. "After all, I had said 'not right now,' not 'never.'"

"Well, all the same," the captain replied. "You had me thinking that I was without a prayer for the rest of that night."

"Oh, it's not like I left you completely hanging," the reporter recalled.

"My, it's cold out now!" Tintin stuck his arms under his armpits to shield them from the cold of night.

"Blistering barnacles, it's certainly gotten chillier since we went in," Haddock commented before remembering the gloves he had kept in the pockets of his jacket. Slipping them on, he said, "I'll walk you home if you'd like."

"That's very kind of you, Captain. Thank you."

The pair had walked a reasonable distance when Haddock could not help but notice that Tintin still had his hands in his armpits trying to keep them warm, trying to keep a frustrated expression from showing on his face.

"Here, hold out your hands, lad," the Captain offered, peeling off his gloves to give to the boy.

"Please, Captain, I couldn't," Tintin declined politely, but did nothing to stop Haddock from slipping his hands into his gloves.

"Oh, don't speak nonsense!" Haddock insisted, holding Tintin's now-gloved hand a little longer than necessary. "Besides," he smiled, "My hands are getting too warm anyhow." Tintin only offered a shy nod as a thank you, and the two continued on their merry way.

This is harder than I thought, Haddock grumbled to himself. It had only been a few minutes, but his hands were already cold again. For blistering barnacles' sake, it's only late fall! But he didn't dare put his hands in his pockets, or under his armpits, nor did he make any effort to rub them. It was the right thing to do, after all. And he be damned if he were to allow Tintin to take pity on him for something so much as being a little cold!

But all the while, the captain could not suppress the grimace on his face well enough to fool his companion. In the corner of his eye, Haddock could see Tintin slipping one of the gloves off.

"Now hold on a second, what are you doing?" Haddock made his resistance clear. "It's just a little cold. I'm a sailor, I'm used to it!"

"Relax, Captain, you'll see," Tintin reassured, slipping but one glove on Haddock's right hand, and holding his left with his own ungloved hand.

"See? Now we'll both be warm!" the boy smiled. "That is, if you don't mind."

Captain Haddock mustered up the nerve to not start blushing again. "No, no, it's fine," he said, keeping himself reserved. "Good idea, lad."

The whole rest of the way to Tintin's apartment, Haddock was fighting to keep his heart from beating so much. He felt it thumping so loudly that he could have sworn that Tintin could hear it, too. But thundering typhoons, this wasn't even supposed to be a legitimate date, and look! We're holding hands!

But all too soon, they reached 26 Labrador Road, where Tintin slipped his hand out of Haddock's (much to the captain's silent dismay) reached in his pocket for his keys. After unlocking the door, he peeled off the glove he was wearing and gave it back to the captain.

"Thank you very much for dinner and the walk home," said Tintin, smiling earnestly.

Of all the things Haddock had to fight himself with that night, he could not hold back his smile. "It was my pleasure, Tintin."

Halfway in the door, Tintin added, "Maybe we should do this again sometime!"

The captain nodded back. "Yes, I'd like that very much."

"Well, good night, Captain," the redhead finally said, closing the door slowly and leaving the captain alone.

"Good night, Tintin."

"Thinking back," Archibald admitted, pushing his bangs away, "I was a huge dork back then. A hopeless romantic with a naivety of a schoolgirl." He chuckled again, a miniscule hint of shame blended in.

"That's alright," his young lover replied, a small giggle escaping his lips as he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. "You're kind of cute when you're being a dork."

"Hah! Me? Cute? I think that's the pot calling the kettle black, lad."

Tintin said nothing in reply, just buried his blushing face in the captain's chest. Haddock's heart was beating to a nice rhythm that Tintin could feel lulling him to sleep.

"Hey, Archie?" he asked sleepily.

"Hm?"

"Do you think we could go back to that restaurant sometime?"

The captain smiled widely, turning a little pinkish.

"Of course."

Tintin exhaled deeply, so close to sleep that he could only mumble, "Good night, Captain."

Archibald felt himself drifting off to sleep as well, gently stroking the boy's tuft of hair and bending down to kiss him before replying.

"Good night, Tintin."