Chapter Text
Even these many months into their marriage, Lando hadn’t gotten over the simple joy of waking up to the sound of Carlos whistling and cooking breakfast. He allowed himself the luxury of scrolling through his phone for a few minutes before forcing himself out of bed, the promise of good food - and so much more besides - coaxing him out of his cocoon with tenderness. He padded towards the kitchen area of the studio apartment he shared with Carlos. Carlos had left the balcony door open, and a gorgeous, salty breeze smoothed over Lando’s residual grogginess.
And there he was, his husband, glowing with the early morning sun. Oversized hoodie, shorts, slides, hair disheveled, and still the most handsome man Lando had ever seen.
“Good morning, mi esposo,” Carlos said, turning his head slightly to regard Lando. Lando grinned and stepped up behind Carlos, wrapping his arms around his middle. He took a deep, happy breath. The joy made his toes tingle.
“Good morning, mi esposo,” Lando replied, nuzzling Carlos’ neck as best as he could, hood allowing.
They stood like that for some time, Lando content to just hold his husband while he finished cooking the omelets, letting Carlos’ strength wash over him. When Carlos had finished cooking, he turned to face Lando. His eyes had mischief and love alike in them and Lando wondered if Carlos had similar intentions to him.
Carlos tipped Lando’s chin up and kissed him softly, tenderly. Lando resisted the urge to melt. He didn’t succeed. Instead he sweetened the kiss, deepened it, and Carlos made a soft noise that only incentivized a lengthier kiss, the gentle part of Lando’s lips, the way Carlos’ tongue slipped so lightly against Lando’s. He tasted like espresso.
When they broke the kiss, Lando said, “So, like, you know how happy I was to have my family around. Yeah?”
“Ah, how big is this ‘but’ going to be?” Carlos grinned. His palms were still on Lando’s jaw, cradling his face. Stupid, big hands, enveloping him. Lando loved his husband’s stupid, big hands.
“But,” Lando said, swatting at Carlos’ chest slightly, “I missed having our mornings to ourselves.”
“Oh yeah?” Carlos asked, and his voice took on a lower pitch. He smiled a half-smile that drove Lando crazy. Lando slowly unzipped Carlos’ hoodie; he was shirtless beneath it. “What did you miss?”
Lando craned his neck, letting Carlos kiss up his throat. His skin felt like it was on fire. “Mm. I could show you?”
Carlos licked Lando’s skin, then kissed and nibbled at his jaw. His hands fell to Lando’s hips, holding him in place as he pressed his groin against Lando’s. Despite all that, he had the audacity to ask, “Don’t you have a meeting with Elena this morning, mi amor?”
Lando pushed Carlos’ hoodie off his arms, feeling his shoulder blades, his traps. “Wouldn’t you know it,” Lando said, thoughtfully, “I just rescheduled it.”
“Huh. Wouldn’t you know it,” Carlos said, just as thoughtfully. He slipped his hands into Lando’s sweatpants, cupping his ass and squeezing hard. Lando moaned softly, then moaned again when Carlos’ fingers lightly grazed over his asshole.
“Wouldn’t you just,” Lando breathed, before Carlos kissed him again, open-mouthed and hungry. They kissed like that for some time. Lando pushed down Carlos’ shorts and took his dick in both hands, pumping it slowly. Carlos groaned into Lando’s mouth, then broke the kiss.
“Fuck,” he whispered, and Lando grinned at him, his swollen lips. “I want you naked, querido.”
Lando shuddered. Carlos’ fingers were still against his asshole, nudging just enough to send jolts of pleasure and pressure through Lando’s body, short of actual penetration. It was Carlos’ favorite thing to do. They would laze together at night, Lando draped across Carlos’ lap, and he would wet his thumb and-
“Whatever you want,” Lando moaned, pulling off his own t-shirt, shoving down his sweatpants. The September breeze made his skin burst into goosebumps.
“I want a lot, Landito,” Carlos murmured in response. “You’re right. I have missed you.”
“Do you know what I’ve missed?” Lando said, looking at Carlos through his eyelashes. He wanted to give his husband a show, wanted Carlos to think about him all day. So he slowly lowered himself down to his knees before Carlos.
“Lando-”
“I’ve missed you coming in my mouth,” Lando said, nuzzling the length of Carlos’ cock. Carlos groaned, his hand immediately fisting in Lando’s curls. Then, Lando mewled, “daddy,” and Carlos whispered, a harsh tinge to his words:
“Open your mouth.”
Lando complied joyfully, and Carlos reached down to cup his jaw and tilt his head up. It pleased Lando to no end to see Carlos’ eyes change at what he saw. He loved this game, loved how quickly Carlos would go from tender to dominant, just because Lando asked.
“So fucking perfect for me, querido,” Carlos said, before pushing his dick into Lando’s mouth. Lando made a loud noise in response. Every inch of Carlos in his mouth felt so good, felt so perfect. Carlos didn’t stop until he was balls deep inside his mouth, and Lando held his breath so that he wouldn’t choke.
“Do you want me to fuck your mouth?”
Lando made a loud noise, bracing himself. Then Carlos pulled out, Lando took a deep breath, and Carlos snapped his hips and Lando moaned again. Yes, he wanted this desperately, he wanted Carlos to take his pleasure from Lando, wanted Carlos to give himself over to his desires.
“Look at you, baby,” Carlos murmured as he thrust between Lando’s lips, his hands holding Lando’s head where he wanted it. This was bliss. This was perfection. Lando kept his mouth open, he wouldn’t do anything unless Carlos asked, he wouldn’t touch himself, wouldn’t move his head, he was Carlos’. “Do you know how- fuck, your mouth feels so good, mi amor. Do you know how pretty you look for daddy like this?”
Lando moaned loudly, and Carlos grinned approvingly. “So pretty. Don’t stop looking at me, Lando.”
He would never, he wouldn’t stop. How could he look away? Carlos pulled out of Lando’s mouth again, letting Lando take a few more breaths. Lando panted, flushed, shivering with delight. Carlos swore in Hiberian, then leaned down to run his tongue against Lando’s. Lando whimpered into the kiss, whimpered again more wantonly when Carlos slipped his thumb between Lando’s lips. Lando ran his tongue along the pad of Carlos’ thumb, then his tongue. Carlos pulled away from the kiss, though he kept his hand where it was.
“So fucking sexy,” he said. Lando sucked on the tip of Carlos’ thumb before Carlos withdrew it.
“I want to choke on your cock, daddy,” Lando purred. “Will you please let me?”
“How could I deny you when you look so beautiful?” Carlos whispered. He kissed Lando again, sloppy, then straightened up. Lando opened his mouth, heart beating fast, and then Carlos’ cock was between his lips, against his tongue, thrusting over and over, hitting the back of Lando’s throat each time. Lando’s moans were broken things, desperate, hungry, and his eyes watered. It felt incredible. It felt freeing.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard, mi vida,” Carlos whispered hoarsely. When he fucked into Lando’s throat again, he stayed there. “Dios, yes. Make you come. Want you screaming my name. Lando- you feel so good, yes, just a little more.”
Lando wanted to sob with pleasure. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His eyes and nose burned and it felt so fucking good. When he didn’t think he could stay in that position any longer, Carlos moaned, “I could come like this,” and Lando forced himself to stay put, forced himself to breathe through his nose just a little more. And he trusted Carlos so completely, and he was always so right to, because just before it became too much, just before Lando actually choked, Carlos withdrew with a hoarse gasp - just enough to give Lando a moment to recover. Lando took a deep, desperate breath, then closed his lips around the head of Carlos’ dick - and it was perfectly timed, because then Carlos came against his tongue, thick and hot. Lando swallowed him down eagerly, moaning loudly, looking up at Carlos the entire time. Carlos shuddered, staring back down at him, his eyes full of lust and ecstasy.
“Perfect,” Carlos whispered. Lando made a content noise, gently sucking Carlos’ tip, coaxing every bead of cum out of him. “Look at you. Look at you. Hermoso. Precioso.”
To Lando’s chagrin, Carlos pulled out all the way. He bit back a pout and made himself say, voice a little hoarse, “Was I good, daddy?”
Carlos laughed disbelievingly. Lando grinned, and Carlos reached down to rub his thumb against the corner of Lando’s mouth. “You were divine, baby boy,” Carlos cooed. Lando opened his mouth and licked the little bit of cum off of Carlos’ thumb. “I could stay in your mouth forever.”
“I wish you could,” Lando said, cheeks turning red. It was embarrassing, but he meant it. He loved giving himself to Carlos like this.
“I want to fuck you.”
“Please.”
“I want to make you come over and over.”
“Carlos, please, please. I’ll do whatever you want.”
Carlos’ eyes flashed. Lando should have been worried, should have asked Carlos what he was thinking, but he didn’t care. As long as he had Carlos fucking him, he didn’t care about anything else. Carlos straightened up again, then stroked his softening cock once, twice, before putting the head of it against Lando’s mouth again. Lando immediately took him back in, bobbing his head on Carlos hungrily. Carlos hissed, probably still sensitive, but he bore it. Lando took him into his throat again, feeling self-indulgent.
“Now, now, Landito,” Carlos whispered, stroking Lando’s hair. Lando wanted to die. He would die happy. “This is just so I’m hard again, yes?”
Lando made a disgruntled noise as Carlos withdrew. “I’m sorry, baby,” Carlos whispered, before pulling Lando up to his feet. He kissed Lando comfortingly, his hand on Lando’s ass. “I just want you too badly. Will you do something for daddy?”
“Anything.”
“My perfect Lando. I’m going to go get us lube. Will you go stand right at the balcony door for me?”
Lando’s breath hitched. He kissed Carlos over and over, whispering, “I love you so much, so fucking much.”
“Filthy,” Carlos commented, and Lando grinned proudly. He smacked Lando’s ass. “Vamos. I’ll be right there. I want you bent over and ready for me.”
Oh, yes.
Lando did as he was bid. He watched Carlos make his way to their bed, then stepped shakily towards the threshold of the balcony. The morning air washed over him again and he shivered. He felt exposed, and not in a great way. His nerves started acting up. But then he heard Carlos walking back towards him, heard him say, “Dios, you’re lovely, amor,” and suddenly, he didn’t feel exposed anymore. Carlos stepped in front of him, shielding him from the wind. He was smiling so broadly, so sincerely. Lando smiled back at him.
“Hold me,” Carlos said, soft, and Lando wrapped his arms around Carlos’ neck. Carlos kissed him, as gentle as his voice had been, then his fingers were against Lando’s asshole again, only slicker. Lando breathed easily into the kiss as Carlos teased him. It would never fail to blow Lando’s mind how easy everything was with Carlos, going from disgustingly horny to disgustingly romantic.
What was life before Carlos? Nothing. Nothing.
Lando moaned as he felt a finger push into him. “More,” he whispered immediately, pushing his face into Carlos’ neck. “I can take it.”
“Whatever you want, Lando,” Carlos murmured, and Lando was surprised that he was so easy to convince. What a novelty; he usually spent ages with just the one finger. Carlos hooked his finger inside Lando a few times, then pushed another finger in. Lando cried out.
“God- your fingers,” Lando moaned again. He loved being stretched out by Carlos like this. He kissed and bit at Carlos’ neck, wanting to leave a mark. Carlos gasped at the kisses against his neck, holding Lando even tighter against himself. His fingers were thrusting in earnest, and this was so typical Carlos, for whom foreplay was a stupid concept because all of sex was sex, and with Lando-
“You take such good care of me, daddy,” Lando whispered, digging his fingers into Carlos’ back. Carlos kissed his head; Lando could feel his heart speed up. “Always making sure I’m- fuck-!”
“Finish your thought, querido,” Carlos murmured. He knelt down (Lando wanted to whine at the absence of Carlos to kiss), but then he took Lando’s dick into his mouth, so Lando couldn’t find it in him to keep complaining. Instead, he threw his head back and grabbed Carlos’ hair.
“Oh my god, oh my god.”
It felt so good, he felt so overwhelmed. Carlos bobbed his head gently on Lando while fucking him with three fingers, holding Lando firmly in place. “You- Carlos!”
He wanted to finish the thought but he couldn’t remember what the thought was. All he could say was, “Daddy, please, fuck me, fuck me,” but Carlos was a man on a mission and Lando wanted to come with Carlos but-
Carlos pulled off of Lando and looked up at him. “Will you be good for me?”
“Yes. Yes.”
“Then come for me. Then I promise, the second you do, I will be inside you. Okay?”
“You’re evil,” Lando hissed, even as he bucked his hips with each sharp bolt of ecstasy from his prostate. Then Carlos grinned a beautiful, fox-like grin, and Lando nodded despite his better judgment.
And Carlos resumed pleasuring Lando, three fingers scissoring and hooking, his mouth on Lando surprisingly gentle but still wonderful, and Lando couldn’t help but come with a whisper of Carlos’ name, shivering.
Carlos was a man of his word, and he took a moment to wipe his mouth before he stood and kissed Lando softly. “So good,” he cooed, and Lando felt warm inside even as he struggled to get his composure back. Then Carlos was behind him, and Lando was just lightly pressed against the balcony door frame, before Carlos said, “I love you. I love you more than anything, mi vida, mi esposo,” and pushed into him with a loud groan.
Lando pounded his fist slightly against the door frame, mouth falling open. Every single inch of him: excellent, excellent. Lando loved having Carlos in him, in his mouth, inside him, the initial feeling of being filled, being the person with whom, in whom, Carlos most longed to be. No one else could give Carlos this. It was only Lando. And Carlos knew that, loved that, which is why he said, “So fucking tight, always, Lando, no matter how much I prep you…”
“Do you like it, daddy?” Lando whispered, looking back over his shoulder. Carlos laughed softly, shaking his head. He buried himself to the hilt inside Lando, then wrapped his arms around him; one hand on Lando’s dick, and the other-
Lando opened his mouth to let Carlos’ fingers in. Yes. This is all he wanted, the feeling of being surrounded by Carlos’, the feeling of the world, for some time, being Carlos and Carlos alone.
“Like it? Mi amor, I love everything about being inside you,” Carlos said incredulously. He took their games so seriously. It made Lando shiver. “For me, it is like coming home. You are my home.”
Lando moaned, and Carlos hadn’t even started thrusting yet. “I’m yours,” he managed to say around Carlos’ fingers. “Now. Always. Please. Do what you want with me.”
“Ay, Lando,” Carlos whispered. He started rocking his hips into Lando, and Lando whispered nothings and dug his nails into the wall. “If I did, I would be inside you like this, fucking you like this forever.”
God, and his cock was so good, so thick and perfect, and Carlos fucked him which such intensity, with nothing short of utter sincerity. Always so much pleasure, with Carlos. Lando cried out, his back arching, and even that was worth Carlos commenting on, apparently, because he whispered, “Your body. Perfect,” his fingers deep inside Lando’s mouth. Lando fucked his own mouth on Carlos’ fingers, trying to do anything to ground himself, because with each thrust he felt more and more undone. And Carlos’ words were only speeding his journey to utter collapse.
“Do you remember our honeymoon?” Carlos asked, voice shaky and hoarse. Lando whimpered - Carlos’ cock, his perfect cock, against his prostate, so deep besides, he wanted to sob but he choked instead, gasping for air, and it was amazing. “We couldn’t sleep. We went to the rooftop of the hotel. We weren’t supposed to.”
It was Lando’s idea, and Carlos could never say no to Lando twice. It was the hotel’s fault for leaving the rooftop access open, anyway. So they snuck up, sat by the rooftop, and within minutes were giggling and kissing and peeling each other’s clothes off.
“And you were glowing. Stunning. Ay. I had to have you.”
And he did. Lando had bounced up and down on Carlos’ cock, then Carlos pulled him up onto his face instead and made him ride his tongue. Lando moaned at the memory, at how quiet they had to be, and how the sex was similar to this, Lando against a wall, Carlos’ fingers there to silence rather than stimulate, but of course, he did both. Lando sucked on Carlos’ fingers, presently, before pulling off a little to say, “I love you.”
“My love. Mi Landito. I love you so much.”
“Come inside me. Please.”
“Yes. Yes-”
“I want to feel you.”
“Lando, fuck-”
“Fuck me on the balcony tonight, please.”
Carlos laughed wildly, pounding into Lando in lieu of words. Lando cried out, and it was more like a sob, and he reached back to fist his hands in Carlos’ hair. “Please, daddy?”
Carlos couldn’t say no to Lando twice.
“Whatever you want. Anything. I will give you what you want.”
Lando wanted to thank him, but instead, Carlos pushed his fingers deep into Lando’s mouth and pushed him, properly, up against the wall. Lando made a loud noise, but his mouth was too full for much else.
“I’m going to fill you with my cum,” Carlos whispered into Lando’s ear. Lando whimpered loudly - his thrusts were short but so hard, his dick kept brushing up against Lando’s prostate. “I want you to come for me. Be loud. I know you can.”
Anything, anything.
“Say you will.”
They both knew Lando couldn’t. He tried, anyway, like they knew he would, and he choked on Carlos’ fingers. Like they knew he would. Carlos just groaned and growled, “Fucking perfect, all mine.”
Lando was. Lando was. Always would be. And Carlos kept saying that, kept saying “Mine,” as he fucked Lando into the wall, as though Lando would ever disagree, as though the world could have any doubts that Lando belonged to Carlos, and that Carlos belonged to Lando.
Lando had come at some point, into Carlos’ hand, but Lando didn’t register that until Carlos came inside him, groaning Lando’s name, bottomed out in him. Lando shuddered and might have come again, but he wasn’t sure. Either way, he got to feel Carlos come, and it was - as Carlos had attested - perfect.
When Lando turned to face Carlos, legs shaking, leaning against the door frame for support, he opened his mouth. Carlos put his other fingers, covered with Lando’s cum, to his lips, and Lando indulgently, slowly, cleaned each digit off.
“I’m not done with you,” Carlos said, and it was the single best thing Lando had ever heard. He shivered, and because he could actually speak, said:
“Thank you, daddy.”
The shower was their next destination, and they rutted against one another there, too, and Carlos got on his knees for Lando to eat him out, and by the time Lando croaked, “Enough,” he was beginning to feel lightheaded from hunger and the shower steam combined. Carlos stopped immediately, checking on Lando, worry evident in his eyes, and Lando just kissed him over and over and professed his love, until Carlos had no choice but to laugh and kiss back and tell Lando that he would marry him all over again if he could, that he loved him more fiercely than every star in the sky burned.
There was no topping that immediately, but Lando would reserve his plans for the evening.
Somehow, they managed to get dressed, eat (after Carlos heated up the omelets again), and even leave the apartment without being late for anything. They had avoided falling back into one another, but Lando couldn’t resist taking Carlos’ hand as they walked. Carlos squeezed Lando’s hand frequently. It was wonderful.
“I can’t believe they’re making you teach classes,” Lando muttered.
“Ay, why? I don’t mind.”
“They pay you doctoral students peanuts for all that work!”
“Which is why,” Carlos grinned, “I’m meeting with the Provost in fifteen minutes.”
Lando snorted. “Poor guy. He’s probably sweating.”
“I’ll be nice!”
“You’ll be honest.”
“I- yes, this is true.”
Then they heard running behind them, and Lando pulled Carlos towards himself before George could barrel into him and knock both of them over. Carlos yelped, but he didn’t resist, and George ended up overshooting by quite a bit. Lando heard Alex sigh loudly. George jogged backwards to join them. To his credit, he didn’t mention his failed attempt to tackle Carlos and Lando.
“Did you hear?” Alex said, now walking beside Lando.
“Alma’s running for student body president!” George said, before Lando and Carlos could answer the question.
Carlos cackled happily. Lando just covered his face and groaned, “Oh god. She’s going to destroy the school.”
“Well,” Carlos grinned, still chuckling, “someone has to. SUH got a little too cozy after the revolution, no?”
Huh. That was true enough. And it was weird, too, realizing that it had been half a year since the revolution. People had started calling it many things: the “February Miracle,” the “Ascension of Sainz” (that felt odd, and Professor Sainz worked hard to stay away from that association), the “Constitutional Revolution.”
But most people simply called it la revolución. And you’d be hard pressed to find anyone who didn’t know what that was referring to.
Half a year since Lando got over himself and let himself grow, half a year since he marched with a city he fell in love with, half a year since he saw Carlos confront a tyrant, get shot-
And then not get shot.
They had discussed it several times since then, when Carlos was able to without shaking. And neither had satisfactory answers for what happened. Carlos just said that he had known, in his soul, nothing would come of that gunshot.
But Lando saw Julio pull the trigger. He had heard the sound of the bullet discharge. And yet-
He felt Carlos knock shoulders with him. “Where’d you go, mi vida?”
He spoke softly. George and Alex politely went back to their own conversation. Lando smiled at Carlos, squeezing his hand. “I’m okay now. I promise.”
“Are you sure? I can be late to this meeting.”
Absolutely fucking not!
“No, you can’t. Doctoral students need livable wages!” Lando declared, and he wrested his hand out of Carlos’. “Go! Vamos! For our joint bank account’s sake!”
He shoved Carlos gently, and Carlos laughed, leaned in to steal a quick kiss from Lando, then turned to run towards the administrative buildings. George and Alex’s polite conversation had shifted into an argument, which made sense, so Lando let himself zone out again.
Just last week, Carlos had woken up gasping for air, asking where his father was. Lando had held him for nearly an hour, telling him everything was fine, that the revolution was over, that Professor Sainz was safe and healthy.
Yes. The revolution was over. It was a success. But so much had been suffered. In other parts of Hiberia, much had been lost. They were lucky here, in Navar. And the rebuilding, while it was going well, would take some time. But those in charge, now, knew that. And they were honest about it.
After a decade and a half of lying, honesty - even if it wasn’t always what people wanted to hear - created invaluable trust between the government and the people it was created to serve.
Lando blew out a breath. It was overwhelming to think about sometimes. Then his phone vibrated in his pocket, and Lando pulled it out to check the notification.
BREAKING NEWS: Sainz government, fulfilling longstanding promise, completes ratification of landmark international human rights treaties.
Lando snorted, thinking back to dinner at the Sainz home a couple of weeks ago. Professor Sainz insisted on not living in the Capitol building. It did mean having a security detail covering the parameter of their lovely house at all times, though.
“Mierda, Landito,” Professor Sainz had said, despairingly, “it is like herding cats, eh? It was easier to make students read the syllabus than this!”
I wonder if he made Piñon help.
Lando chuckled at his own joke. He should text him that. Maybe he would, after his art history seminar.
“Losers,” Lando yelled, getting Alex and George’s attention. “I’m going to class. La Justicia tonight, yeah?”
“I’m bringing cigarrillos!” George piped up excitedly. Alex groaned and smacked his boyfriend, none too gently.
“So gross. Yeah, we’ll be there.”
“Cool. I’ll be late. Lads?”
“Lads.”
“Lads lads lads.”
And with that out of the way, Lando broke off from his best friends and ran towards the liberal arts building.
September was Carlos’ favorite time of year in Navar. The nights were cooler, the air smelt of sea, and everyone seemed to be in an excellent mood. Carlos was no exception.
Luis had finally finished expanding the patio seating at La Justicia, and now they barely spent any time indoors. Which wasn’t bad for Luis’ business since he had, thank god, finally hired some actual help in the form of some energetic college students. As it was, Luis and Seb were sitting on a separate table, close to but slightly away from the rest of the group. Seb was flirting incessantly. Luis couldn’t stop smiling and blushing. Carlos shook his head. He and Lando were bad, but they weren’t that bad.
Fernando, meanwhile, looked like he was trying to obliterate every brain cell he had, with his liver as collateral. It was rare to see him at La Justicia these days; now that his primary job of laundering revolutionaries under the pretense (mostly) of research had become moot, he actually had to run his NGOs. Presidential edict. So Fernando drowned his sorrows, though he would be back to loving his job on Monday. Probably.
Hopefully.
Charles had shoved his phone into Felipe’s face, talking animatedly of the wonders of spreadsheets and…pivot functions? He was also bedecked in fine clothing, likely a function of his job at what was being called Navar’s fashion district. Carlos hadn’t anticipated that. But hey, growth was growth, as long as it was good. Still, Felipe looked like he wanted to die, and Carlos didn’t blame him.
George had somehow gotten it into his head that they needed to celebrate a whole year since the first time the Anglo kids had stumbled into La Justicia. He had, atrociously, decided the best way to do this was by handing out cigarrillos. They were disgusting, likely because they were cheap. Carlos refused the cigarrillo he’d been offered on principle, and most of the others hadn’t been far behind in giving up. George, nonetheless, was delighted. And Alex was trying to get it into George’s head that smoking cigarrillos did not make him look cool.
In fairness, George looked a little cool. In some lights. At some angles. But Carlos was feeling charitable, maybe.
The wheezing and hacking was actively disgusting, though.
“It feels good.”
“No, it doesn’t, you look like a knob.”
“You’re just jealous-“
“Jealous of what-?”
Carlos sighed and tried to pay attention to his journal. Or maybe he should mediate the conflict. He didn’t really want to but-
Ah. There he was. Carlos could feel him before he even knew for certain.
Grinning, Carlos looked up and towards Lando, who was half-walking, half-jogging towards the crew.
“Sorry!” he called, panting slightly. “Sorry! Mamá wanted to go to one more store.”
Everyone looked up and waved at him, but Carlos, with the biggest smile on his face, just spread his arms wide and declared, “Ah! La luna! Finally, some light to do this writing by, eh?”
Lando immediately turned red. Everyone laughed and whistled and Lando just groaned. “Jesus! Carlos! I know some Hiberian!”
“Ay, not enough to keep me from embarrassing you, Landito!”
Muttering, Lando let Carlos pull him onto the arm of his chair. He even offered Carlos his cheek to kiss, and Carlos took the concession happily.
“Huh. What are you writing?”
Carlos blushed a little. “Ah. I’m not sure. Um. Maybe something for my dissertation. Maybe for me.”
“Well, knowing you,” Lando teased, and Carlos knew where this was going, “it probably has a title already, yeah?”
Carlos grumbled. Lando knew him too well.
“Go on. What’s it called?”
“Ah. Uh.”
He took a deep breath and smiled sheepishly: “¡Revolución!”
Lando stared at him. Then he burst out laughing. “Carlos.”
“I know.”
“Carlos, that’s the stupidest title I’ve ever heard.”
Carlos shoved Lando off the arm, and Lando resisted impressively, still laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m sure it’ll be good.”
Carlos pretended to sulk, and he was glad he did, because it meant Lando was stroking his hair to mollify him. “Well, I don’t believe you,” Carlos pouted.
“No, it’ll be good and useful.”
“And how do you know that, oh mi esposo?”
“Because,” Lando said, and he pressed his nose to Carlos’ cheek, “you’re writing it. And you care. And you’ve never done anything that wasn’t good and useful.”
Ah. Carlos felt his throat burn slightly.
“It’s too light of an occasion for this emotion, mi amor,” Carlos murmured. He pulled Lando into his lap and hugged him. Lando grinned.
“Nah. It’s just going to be good and useful a little later on.”
And as Lando kissed Carlos, Carlos knew he was right.