rodrikstark's headcanons (part 1)

j. torres + first anniversary

"joaco." you let your fingers drag through his hair, picking out any bits of sand. the drying saltwater makes his curls stiffen, but you admire the way the sunshine reflects off them.

"mmm."

the vibrations of his hum against your tummy make you giggle. "happy anniversary."

"¿de verdad, cariño?" he leans back to look at you, removing his sunglasses.

you shake your head, amused. he had spent hours this morning patiently and lovingly wishing you a happy first anniversary. still, you play along. "sí."

he frowns. "well, that can't be right." without warning, he sits up, just narrowly dodging the book in your hands. he takes the paperback from you, throwing it onto the second recliner chair in your little cabana. a chair which he refused to occupy, because he likes nestling in your lap, brushing his hands up and down your bare legs, slightly slippery with sunscreen.

a genuine worry seems to mark his face, but you couldn't have possibly gotten the date wrong. "why not?"

joaquin grabs your cheeks. "¿sólo un año?" he asks with concern. "we're going to need at least fifty more."

you pretend to gag at the cheesy line, but then you burst into laughter, tugging at his wrists until his calloused hands settle on your waist.

"what is life expectancy nowadays? maybe even sixty."

your back arches as he pulls you right up against his sun-warm skin, his fingers stroking the soft material of your swimsuit. "you'd be happy with me for that long?"

he grins. "para siempre."