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"So the question is," Faraday says contemplatively, "how the hell do I word this so that he doesn't rush home foaming at the mouth? I mean, I want him to come home right away, but I don't want him on the verge of a breakdown either, and you know how he gets about this house."
When no answer is immediately forthcoming, Faraday tears his gaze away from the blank screen of his phone to glance over at his companion. "You're not being very helpful, Jack. I thought you liked this plan?"
Lying with his head pillowed on his front paws, Jack twitches at the sound of his name, thumping his heavy tail twice on the polished hardwood floor of the dining room. He's not technically supposed to be in here - Vasquez has ranted more than once about the damage a dog's nails can do to wood flooring - but Faraday's in need of backup tonight, and he can't think of anyone better. Lord knows none of his human friends would be any help.
They'd picked up Jack about a year after they'd moved into the new place. Vasquez had been unsure of the whole idea at first, claiming that dogs were a lot of work and produced considerable wear and tear on houses, but eventually he'd caved in light of Faraday's repeated assurances that he wouldn't let their as yet unknown canine destroy their home. Either that or he'd just gotten tired of Faraday bringing it up every five seconds. One of the two.
Regardless of the reason, they'd gone looking first at breeders, and then at local shelters when Faraday decided he'd prefer an adult as opposed to a pup. Eventually they'd stumbled over Jack.
The scarred and temperamental pit bull mix had actually been on the verge of being put down due his having been labeled as unadoptable. Faraday had taken one look at the tired animal, noticed a limp that matched his own, and decided right then and there he wasn't leaving without this particular dog.
Vasquez had been wary at first, feeling like Jack's history might not make him the best choice. However, he'd ceded to Faraday's demands, eventually going so far as to build Jack an elaborate kennel outside, and fence the yard in so the dog had plenty of space to roam.
"You spoil him," Faraday had remarked one night about a month after Jack had come to live with them. "I knew you would. You're a big softy at heart."
Refusing to look up from the hardware magazine he'd been reading through, Vasquez had snorted hard enough that Faraday could feel it on the other side of the mattress. "I'm not the one letting him sleep in our bed, guero."
"He gets lonely downstairs all by himself," Faraday had protested, scratching between Jack's ears where he'd been reclined half on Faraday's chest. "How'd you like it if I made you sleep out there all alone on a blanket?"
"I'd like to see you try," Vasquez had sneered, and things might have taken a rather childish turn if Faraday hadn't been buried under 80lbs of nearly asleep dog. Luckily, cooler heads had prevailed, and within a few months Jack was a regular fixture in their lives, though he remained far more Faraday's dog than anyone else's.
Tonight, though, he was proving to be all but useless. He'd wandered into the dining room after Faraday, safe in the knowledge that Vasquez wasn't around to chase him out, and he'd been flopped in the same spot for the better part of an hour now, seemingly content to watch unhelpfully while Faraday frets.
"Man's best friend, my ass." Faraday snorts before returning to his earlier problem. His phone screen has gone dark in light of his lack of attention, but it's the work of a moment to wake it back up again and bring up Vasquez's contact info. Unfortunately, doing so still doesn't fix his problem of not knowing how he wants to word this message.
"If I'm not careful, he'll stroke out on the spot," he muses, eyeing the blinking cursor on the screen. He feels a little like it's judging him. "Or he'll get so worked up he'll come home just to kill me, which we really don't want, right?"
Jack remains unhelpfully silent.
"Thanks, buddy," Faraday grumbles, feeling decidedly let down by his dog's lack of interest. "See if I ever let you in on any big plans again."
Taking a deep breath, Faraday types a quick message out on his phone, deliberately hitting send as soon as he's done so he can't chicken out. "Okay," he says shakily, "that's step one taken care of, or maybe step two." He considers his earlier preparations and nods decisively. "Yeah, step two."
Unfortunately for him, the third and final step can't be put into motion until Vasquez gets home. A buzzing from Faraday's phone signals an incoming text, and when he looks down he finds a response that indicates Vasquez is both on his way and somewhat riled up if the number of expletives is anything to go by. Some of them aren't even in English, but Faraday's Spanish has improved enough over the years to know when he's being sworn at.
Rather than worry him, this causes Faraday to feel strangely relaxed. One way or another, Vasquez is rushing home to fix a perceived wrong, and Faraday can't help but feel an odd sense of satisfaction as a result. Kind of as if they've come full circle.
Grinning to himself, he leans back against the dining room table, and settles in to wait.
*****
Vasquez's return home is heralded by the sound of feet pounding up the front walkway, the front door slamming open, and Faraday's own name being bellowed out from the entrance to their house. Probably more amused than he should be, Faraday stands up out of the chair he'd recently sat down in to ease the strain too much standing was having on his bad leg, fully intending to head out and cut Vasquez off at the pass.
"If he kills me," he tells Jack seriously, "you are not to dig me up when he inevitably hides my body in the yard. None of us would ever hear the end of it if I let that happen. The neighbours are way too nosy."
Jack flicks the more crooked of his ears dismissively, not bothering to otherwise move.
Mostly out the room, Faraday pauses, wondering if he should trust this picture of nonchalance. He shakes a warning finger in Jack's face, and then points at the table. "Do not touch anything. Ruin this for me, and you'll be in the doghouse for life."
Jack grunts, clearly unconcerned, but he also doesn't move, so Faraday chooses to take this as a win. "Good boy," he says before once again heading in the direction of irritated Spanish profanity.
Sauntering out into the hallway, Faraday tries and fails to keep his mouth from turning up into a grin when he comes face to face with a wild looking Vasquez. "Hey, darlin'," he says easily. "I thought I told you this wasn't a big deal?"
Vasquez gives him a look that says he's lucky he's not dead, and thrusts his phone out. "You have five seconds to explain," he says, the screen lighting up and illuminating Faraday's last text message.
dont panic but its possible I maybe started a tiny fire. no worries tho! All under control
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Faraday says glibly. "A guy who deals with words for a living should be better at texting. You've told me that a hundred times before."
“That is not at all what I am talking about, and you know it,” Vasquez snaps. “Show me whatever you’ve done, so that I can figure out what I need to do about it.”
“Sure, no problem,” Faraday says. Stretching out a hand, he curls his fingers around Vasquez’s wrist, drawing the other man towards him. “It’s right in here.”
Jack’s still curled up on the dining room floor when they enter, but if Vasquez notices, he’s too distracted by the rest of the setup to say anything. “What?” He asks, his forehead wrinkling in confusion as he takes in the sight in front of him.
The table’s nicely decked out with place mats and their best dishes. The two plates are heaped full of Vasquez’s favorite meal, a bottle of wine resting in between them while a lit candle provides the only illumination.
Faraday nods at the candle. “See?” He says. “I told you it was only a tiny fire.”
“I can see that,” Vasquez agrees, most of his ire fading and being replaced with befuddlement. “What’s the occasion?”
Faraday thinks over the speech he’d been practicing prior to putting this plan in motion, and decides now that it doesn’t fit the night’s atmosphere. “It’s been four years,” he says simply. “Four years since the morning you showed up on my doorstep to clean out some gutters, and then refused to go away until I’d let you rebuild and repair pretty much every inch of the place.”
“Huh,” Vasquez says, and Faraday gets the feeling he’s doing the math in his head to see if that’s right or not. “So it has,” he agrees, “but that doesn’t really answer my question, or why you felt the need to try and give me a heart attack to get me to come home early.”
They don't celebrate this day, is the thing. As far as anniversaries go, they use the date of when they'd first decided to try seeing each other officially, while today generally passes unmarked. If it weren't for Faraday's decidedly ulterior motive, it'd normally go by unnoticed.
Which is a fact that Vasquez is well aware of if the thoughtful look on his face is anything to go by. "Guero," he says slowly, "not that I don't appreciate the sentiment, but what is the purpose of this? I know what you look like when you want something, Joshua. You're very bad at hiding it."
His eyes narrow, indicating a sudden thought has occurred to him, and he doesn't much care for it. "I am not building you another deck," he says firmly. "The last one I put up is still in fine condition."
"I don't want a new deck," Faraday promises, smiling at the thought of that particular long running joke. He looks at the man he's stupidly head over heels for, and decides to just go for it. "I want you to marry me."
Vasquez's eyes widen, his jaw dropping slightly as he obviously searches for a way to respond. "You - what?"
Rather than panic that this answer means things might not be going well, Faraday smiles. They've never talked about marriage, not really, but Vasquez was willing to ride it out with him in a house that was falling down around their ears, and he literally built their current place from the ground up. Faraday knows a forgone conclusion when he sees one.
"I want you to marry me," he repeats. "C'mon, Vas. We both know we're in this for the long haul, so why not make it official? What do you say, wanna keep on fixing the stuff I break and be shackled to me for the rest of forever? Or until I inevitably annoy you enough that you smother me to death in my sleep, whichever comes first?"
Vasquez barks out a laugh, the booming kind that he only makes when he's well and truly happy. "Oh, dios mio. When you put it like that, how can I refuse? Yes, you ridiculous man, I'll marry you."
"Awesome," Faraday says. Reaching out, he fists his hands in Vasquez's shirt, having every intention of dragging him in for their first ever kiss as an engaged couple, only to stop when Vasquez waggles a finger at him. "What? What's the matter?"
"Where is it?" Vasquez asks bizarrely, raising an eyebrow when Faraday blinks.
"Where's what?" Faraday asks, wondering if maybe Vasquez thinks there still is an actual household disaster somewhere that he needs to fix. "What're you talking about?"
Vasquez lets out a long suffering sigh, while at the same time making the face he does whenever he's praying for patience. "Joshua, if you just proposed to me without a ring I'm going to be very offended. Possibly so much so that I will tell everyone we know. Including Emma and Goodnight."
Physically unable to envision a worse scenario than having those two harpies coming after him for a lackluster marriage proposal, Faraday is quick to shake his head. "Trust me," he promises, reaching into his back pocket at the same time. "I thought of everything."
Vasquez's eyes sparkle as Faraday holds up the little velvet box for him to see, his smile growing impossibly bigger when the lid is flipped back to reveal the slim silver band nestled inside. "Not gold?" He asks, and Faraday scoffs.
"You think gold is tacky," he says firmly, pulling the ring free so he can put it where it belongs. "Give me your damn hand."
Vasquez holds up his right hand.
"Your other hand," Faraday groans, rolling his eyes. "I can't believe I'm gonna marry someone so obnoxious."
"Given the way in which you convinced me to rush home, I don't think you have a leg to stand on where obnoxiousness is concerned," Vasquez says dryly. Though he now raises the proper hand, which Faraday's going to count as a win.
Slipping the ring onto Vasquez's finger; Faraday's pleased to note that it's a perfect fit, sliding up over the knuckle and nestling into place without any trouble at all. "Damn I'm good," he says proudly.
"Yes, you are amazing in all things," Vasquez quips. "Truly, I don't know how I survived before you came along."
"Back at you, big guy," Faraday replies. "Now get over here and make out with me. We only have so much time before supper gets cold."
Laughing, Vasquez finally allows himself to be reeled in, and Faraday kisses him hungrily, wanting to taste every bit of him even though he's done it a thousand times before.
They kiss for what feels like hours, everything else forgotten as they get lost in each other. In fact, Faraday’s on the verge of suggesting they say to hell with supper and move this upstairs, when Vasquez abruptly stiffens.
“Joshua.” He says voice sounding pained as he pulls back.
“Yeah?”
“The table is on fire.”
Faraday turns, half expecting this to be a poor excuse for a joke on Vasquez’s part, but no, it’s anything but. Apparently able to resist temptation for only so long, Jack has made an attempt on the food, and in the process has knocked the still burning candle over. He wags his stumpy tail as they both stare at him, seemingly oblivious to where the tablecloth is now merrily alight only a few inches away from his nose.
“I –“ Faraday shrugs helplessly. “Maybe we really are cursed?”
“I’m starting to think this might be the case,” Vasquez agrees. “I’ll deal with the table cloth; you deal with your horrible beast.”
“Hey!” Faraday protests, offended on Jack’s behalf. “He’s a good dog,” he adds, ignoring any present evidence to the contrary. “Don’t be mean.”
“He is a demon,” Vasquez replies. He’s moving quickly towards the kitchen, likely in search of something he can use to douse the flames, which Faraday is going to maintain really aren’t that bad. “Please contain him before he does more damage.”
"That's still being mean," Faraday scolds, but he doubts Vasquez can hear him over the sound of running water now emanating from the kitchen. "Jack, down! You're going to hurt yourself if you get too close." Hooking his hand around the back of Jack's collar, he hauls the dog backwards as Vasquez reappears with a pitcher full of water in one hand and one of their rattier dishtowels in the other.
"It worries me how at ease I've gotten with these kind of disasters over the years," Vasquez remarks conversationally as he pours about a third of the pitcher over the flames, and then proceeds to sop the mess up with the dishtowel. "Most people are much more inclined to panic when their homes catch on fire, no matter the size."
"It wasn't even big enough to set the smoke detector off," Faraday points out, and given that Vasquez is fanatic about testing the batteries in those things every year, one definitely would have gone off if they fire had been anything serious. "You worry too much."
"And yet I just agreed to live like this for the rest of my life," Vasquez says, grinning to show he doesn't mean anything by it. "I must be out of my mind."
Faraday finds himself automatically grinning back. "Just so long as you don't change it."
Setting pitcher and towel aside, Vasquez stalks towards him, intent evident in his eyes. "Never."
Unsurprisingly, supper does get cold, but it still tastes fantastic all the same.