Dusk:
Captain Haddock whistled; obviously impressed. "Wow", the Scotsman noted.
Standing beside the taller man, Tintin grinned. "I told you, the view up here is amazing", the redhead reporter declared.
He was quite pleased he had gotten to show his companion just how remarkable it was to stand on top of Hoover Dam and watch the sun set over both the Colorado River and the surrounding Nevada landscape. It was exactly the kind of vista one would expect to find in a western, and it was just as captivating as he remembered it being from his last trip to the Silver State.
On this particular jaunt to the United States, a country he so rarely visited despite all the great tourist attractions, the boy reporter had been investigating the latest alien conspiracy surrounding Area 51; though he'd suspected there may be more to this one than the usual tall tales crafted to gain media attention.
Of course, the Captain tagged along with him and Snowy, as per usual. They rode horses, saw all the bright lights of Vegas, and were nearly shot more than a few times before Tintin's instincts were proven correct to his skeptical partner and the UFO hoax turned out to be a cover for a gold scam.
Even now the bizarre discovery reminded him a lot of Scooby-Doo; but the encounter he and the Captain had once with living, breathing Aztecs also seemed like a plot lifted from an Indiana Jones movie in retrospect, so it was hardly the first time the Belgian journalist had seen something stranger than fiction.
Long story short criminals were caught, a lot of people's fears were quelled, and he had another story ready and waiting to be typed and submitted to the Paris Gazette when he got back to Marlinspike. But their plane back to Brussels wouldn't depart until the next morning, and at the time they were very close to Boulder City so Tintin could hardly pass up the opportunity to show the Captain a Nevada landmark he favored more than Vegas; now that they were 'off the clock'.
Tintin's grin hardly left his face as the sailor took in their surroundings; from Lake Mead behind them to the arch bridge eclipsing the sun ever so slightly as it sank down to the horizon before them.
It was not often Archibald Haddock was this quiet. The boisterous, burly seaman Tintin had befriended many years before was hardly outspoken and could often be heard voicing his displeasure over particularly bad turns of events, or laying into whatever foe they found themselves facing, or just telling his auburn compadre a fish story too ridiculous for even a guy who'd seen giant mushrooms to believe.
But the man had his quiet moments. Like Tintin he had an appreciation for nature's beauty when said nature wasn't trying to kill him. And there had been many nights where they'd laid side-by-side, or Tintin laid on top of his boyfriend's chest (be it clothed or bare), and neither of them said a word as they let themselves enjoy the warm comfort that came from sharing a bed.
It was nights like those Tintin never got tired of. And he knew he never would.
He slipped his hand into one of the pockets of his trench coat and felt almost absentmindedly the familiar square shape of the little red box hidden within; cradling it in his palm. He'd gotten it in a shop in Brussels two weeks back and carried it with him most places he went now with the Captain, waiting for what he felt was the right time and place to show it to Haddock. It had even accompanied him on this trip to America.
But despite contemplating his intentions, and coming close on more than a few occasions, he'd never been able to just come clean and spring it on the old sea dog. Perhaps that had less to do with timing and more to do with his nerves, but as he stared at the back of his partner-in-crime in the midst of what was a pretty damn romantic setting Tintin knew he would get no better opportunity than this. And he needed to grasp it with both hands.
Walking up to Archie, he cleared his throat. "So… Captain, how long do you think this will last? … We'll last?", he asked, as off-handed and casually as he could. But that didn't make what he was saying any less random.
Haddock blinked and glanced at him, confusion in his cobalt blue eyes. After all, they'd been talking about scenic views a minute before, so where had that come from? "What do you mean?", he inquired.
Tintin, embarrassed, shifted a little under his gaze. "How long do you see yourself with me… and vice versa?", the journalist reiterated, with an added hand gesture for good measure.
Naturally Haddock was taken aback. "Well what sort of daft question is that?", he said in disbelief.
"Just answer it please", Tintin replied curtly, letting his arms rest at his side as his cheeks grew warm.
The Captain raised his eyebrow; a variety of emotions flickering across his face as he realized his boyfriend was actually serious. Though he had no idea why.
After a moment his expression softened and he raised his rough, calloused hand to Tintin's cheek; something the landlubber was so used to him doing by this point that he hardly batted an eyelash when the bearded Haddock cupped his clean-shaven face.
"Lad, the night we first made love I said I'd never want another man; and I've hardly changed my opinion since then", the Scot said reassuringly, with an amused sort of smile.
And once he'd done that Tintin relaxed; lips tugging upwards into a smile of his own – a relieved one. "I was hoping you'd say that", he said to his lover.
"Were you expecting me to say something else?", Haddock teased, withdrawing his palm.
"No… but it's always nice to make sure", Tintin admitted honestly. "I'd hate to go to all the trouble of popping the question, only to find out you want out of this relationship", he added; having decided that letting the cat out of the bag light-heartedly was the best way to go about things.
Haddock's grin froze on his face before the sailor's features slowly sank. "What?", he said, echoing his earlier question in a dazed whisper.
"Headin' Out West" by James Horner begins.
Tintin swallowed a lump in his throat. "Here goes", he thought, slipping his hand into his pocket and pulling the ring box into full view. He flipped open the top and brought his eyes to the Captain's; who just stared at him and the ring in silent disbelief.
"I've been thinking about doing this for a while now, and I've had weeks to get cold feet and back out; but as you can see that's not what happened", Tintin said.
"You and I both know I feel as strongly about you as you do about me. We live in a day and age where two men can get married and have a good life together, and not everyone has that luxury", the journalist continued, explaining his thought process as best he could to his partner.
Haddock's brows knitted together, intrigued, and that reaction helped Tintin some; knowing his boyfriend was at least understanding what it was he was trying to tell him. And that emboldened him to keep going and lay it all out, for better or for worse.
"I'll admit I never thought about getting married to anyone up until this year. I've never been in any rush to think about things like commitment and settling down someday. But if there's anyone I know I'm going to want to spend the rest of my life with, undoubtedly it's you Archibald Haddock", he proclaimed wholeheartedly.
"So-", he said, pausing one last time to take a breath and prepare himself. "Will you marry me?", he asked.
There. He'd finally said it.
He'd thought about doing it for months and now he'd finally done it. And the moments that followed were just as tense and nerve-racking as those that had proceeded.
Tintin never broke eye contact with the stiff Captain Haddock as the sailor's sea blue eyes studied his undoubtedly anxious face. His frame of mind was indeterminable even for a master sleuth like Tintin and his tongue gave no hints as to what the Scotsman was thinking, betraying nothing of his considerations, until at last he spoke and released Tintin from the suspense.
"Aye", he said gruffly.
Tintin gaped; eyes lighting up. "Aye?", he repeated, cautious but hopeful nonetheless.
The Captain stepped towards him; a wide toothy grin on the mariner's face as he stopped just inches short of Tintin and grasped him by his sides – pulling his beloved ginger towards him. Once they were face-to-face, nose-to-nose, the wily old sea dog repeated himself for his lover's benefit.
"Aye", he declared, to Tintin's delight, before he captured the lad in a kiss – to prove to him just how certain he was.
The younger man was elated as he felt his mouth being engulfed by warmth. By that familiar, prickly beard that Haddock rarely trimmed since he knew how sexy Tintin thought it was.
He'd feared rejection; instead his marriage proposal was met with acceptance and a hearty tongue sandwich – a much better outcome than the reporter could have asked for.
By the time it was over and his courtesan pulled away with a sly, satisfied look on his face, Tintin was more than a little hot under the collar. "Captain", he breathed the man's title with an excited grin.
As his fingers tightened around the box in his mitt he remembered he'd yet to give Haddock his ring; he'd yet to seal the deal. So, wasting no time, he grabbed Archie by the hand and (clumsily) slipped the ring onto his middle finger.
To his relief, as he'd only been able to estimate the man's ring size, it was a snug fit – neither tight nor loose, and the stone that he'd picked remained in place when the Captain flexed his digits.
Both men marveled for a moment at the classic symbol of commitment one of them now bore, before looking up at each other. And the moment their eyes met, blue piercing green (and vice versa), they knew the kissing was about to start up again (not that either of them minded).
The Captain pulled Tintin closer still and the redhead draped his arms around the back of Haddock's neck, resting them on the collar of his jersey as he leaned fully into his fiancée's embrace. The pair of them illuminated by the last rays of the sinking desert sun as their lips found each other once more.
Below them a little white dog, who'd been all but forgotten about by both of his masters, wagged his tail at the sight of Tintin having finally worked up the courage to go through with his two-week old plans.
"Well it is about time", Snowy thought sarcastically. But really the terrier couldn't be happier for his human friends, and just this once he didn't mind being ignored. Especially seeing as how he was certain he was going to be the best man at their wedding.
He could practically taste the reception buffet now. Mmm.
The End.
Author's Notes:
I'd like to dedicate to this one-shot to my friend BrytheSpy. I'd also like to thank multiple authors whose Tintin fics have entertained me for years now; be they sexy or funny or imaginative or just plain sweet.
Bianca Castafarina; for penning "Secret Fantasies", "Pragmatism", "Resistance", "Detention", "Interrogation", and "A Tibetan Tent Tale". Kei the Average; for "The Art of Loosening Up", "Nothing to Fear", "In Full Bloom", "Caught Red-Hooded", "More Harm Than Good" and "In Sickness and In Health". DoubleDecks; for "In Which the Hour is Nigh", "In Which Tintin Handles Jealousy Like A Champion", "In Which Tintin Puts Off Unsavory Characters", and "In Which the Captain Makes A Dire Mistake".
Ponella for "Just Add Milk" and Yard of Blonde Girls for "Maid For You". TintinLover for "Summer Dream" and "Boy, Look at that Body". LM Simpson for "A Series of Unfortunate Delays" and "Greenminded Fellow Am I". Skeexikx for "Inevitable" and "Wanton", and WeirdTales for "Relieving You". RenaissanceElf for "Night in the Red Light" and Badskippy for "Four Days, Five Nights". And of course Mass Effecting Your Pants "I Know You Love Me".
Thanks to all you guys and girls for being such talented writers, and for compelling me to try my own hand at writing a Tintin fic. Keep doing what you do best.
TCK.