#i wanted to do spot illustrations but i ran out of time and motivation HJFKDS

[katbrando]

dinokat ✱ 10.9k ✱ NSFW (minors dni, you'll be blocked) written very self-indulgently for my birthday, this is a series of snapshot drabbles encapsulating a surprise trip to the utah desert. there's horseback riding, hiking, drunken shenanigans, and typical dinokat silliness. majority is SFW, the smut is around 2k and takes place near the end of the fic. [ read on ao3 instead ]

“Babe, you look like –”

I’ve never seen Diego move with as much force and speed as he slams his laptop shut and whips his head around to look at me. His face is riddled with something akin to fear, though not severe enough to warrant too much concern.

“-- a shrimp,” I finish the statement, ruffling my damp hair with a towel and eyeing him with confusion.

Diego stays rooted on the couch, but holds his laptop protectively in his lap as if whatever he’d been previously looking at is for his eyes only. Processing the observation, he straightens up and shrugs dismissively.

“Just relaxing. Finally my turn to shower?” The subtle accusation hints at something else bothering him, though it seems he’s not exactly keen on discussing it. I have to swallow the anxiety and focus instead on the smile that’s gradually crossing his face.

“I offered for you to join me.” Towel now draped across my shoulders, I walk towards him and gently poke Diego in the forehead. “You snooze, you lose.”

Sharp cerulean eyes stare directly up at me as he grips my wrist and lowers my hand to his lips. Once he’s placed a kiss to my palm he finally stands up, still holding his laptop tight against his chest. 

“We both know if I’d have joined you,” Diego pauses amidst a sly grin that bares the sharp points of his teeth, “we’d have been in there for ages.”

I have no time to offer a rebuttal, not that I want to anyway. Diego promptly presses his lips to my cheek and leaves the living room. His laptop is stored somewhere in the space of our bedroom before he shuts himself in the bathroom and, despite my confusion and genuine curiosity, there’s no reason to go hunting for it. I trust Diego, respect his privacy, but it’s odd that he’s been acting like this lately. In a way, it reminds me of how secretive he’d been about his poetry when we’d first started dating, but there’s no telling what it might be this time. Ultimately, he can be quite protective of certain parts of himself, and it’d simply be unfair of me to pry things out of him when he isn’t quite ready to show them. 

I’m lucky enough to see intimate parts of himself that he rarely shows to anyone, and that’s more than good enough for me.

The days leading up to my birthday week continue to consist of Diego covertly tapping away at his phone and angling his laptop just right to shield whatever it is he’s looking at from my view. Curiosity is painfully consuming me, but I remain silent about his odd behavior. 

Gradually, however, it starts to become clear what he’s up to. It’s when he firmly requests that I take off the entire weekend of the upcoming date that I understand he must be planning something. Diego knows surprises stress me out and often keep me awake at night, but he insists I have nothing to worry about. Of course, that’s not my concern, it’s more rooted in a feeling of guilt at whatever he’s putting together specifically for me. But Diego is a gift giver, it’s who he is at his core; those he loves, though not many, he showers in gifts as a sign of his affection.

And so, I do as he says. Soon enough the fateful weekend is nearly upon us, and the minute I return home from work on Thursday, Diego greets me at the door, stopping me in my tracks from entering any further.

“What are you doing?” I pry, attempting to rise to my tip-toes and glance over his shoulders.

“Calm down,” Diego coos. “Close your eyes.”

A heavy sigh leaves my lips as I relent, shutting my eyes and immediately feeling one of his palms press to my lower back, pulling me into our home and guiding me god knows where. Based on my general familiarity with the layout, I conclude that he’s led me to our bedroom.

“Alright, open them, but,” Diego pauses, tone a bit stern, “you have to promise not to throw a fit.”

“Why would I throw a fit?” 

Diego doesn’t answer the question; instead he quietly gives me the go-ahead again. Steeling myself so I won’t react in a way he won’t appreciate, my eyes slowly open and notice we’re standing next to our bed. Atop the mattress lies two packed suitcases, a pair of plane tickets placed against their surface. Diego doesn’t give me time to respond, just straightens up to confidently explain.

“I’m taking you on a trip.” I don’t have to look at him to know he’s grinning. “We leave tonight, our flight is in two hours.”

“What?” I lift my stare and bite back the distress bubbling up in my throat. “Where –”

“Utah.” Diego’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction.

Out of every possible location he could have chosen for a trip, Utah is certainly nowhere near the top of the list. What could have possibly drawn him to this state specifically? Perhaps these were the cheapest tickets, or maybe he’s mistaken it for some other location. He’s still fairly unfamiliar with the States.

“Utah,” I repeat. “Okay, so… if the flight is in two hours what are we still doing here? It’s best to be at the airport early!”

“Christ, you’re still uptight from work.” Diego observes, and I slightly bristle with annoyance at his (likely very correct) assumption. “It’s fine, we’ll be there with plenty of time to spare. I packed ahead of time for a reason, darling.”

Speechless, I glance at our luggage, then back to him. I have no clue what awaits us in Utah, but still I wrap my arms around his torso and tightly hug him in thanks. 

“You didn’t have to do this.” As soon as the words leave my mouth I know he’s going to tell me off.

“There it is,” he chuckles, choosing not to further scold me. Instead, with one arm still wrapped securely around my shoulders, he reaches for one suitcase and pulls it to the floor. “We ought to get going.”

Ignoring my desire for a post-work shower, I follow his lead and grasp my own luggage. Diego tucks our plane tickets away, guiding me out to the living room. He tends to Anguirus, quickly feeding him and offering him a loving goodbye. It occurs to me that Diego has previously complained about airports and planes, which only furthers my appreciation for this gesture. The fact that he’s willing to go through a process he despises so much just to celebrate my birthday with me warms my heart in a way that only he is capable of. 

Putting up with Diego’s onslaught of complaining and frustration at the airport is easy; I’ve become used to his tendency to exhibit irritation with a great number of things, at this point in our relationship I deal with it with a sense of humor. He responds decently well to my supportive touches and words, but he’s still incredibly antsy and on edge for the duration of our 3 hour flight.

As soon as we land in Utah, Diego makes a beeline for the luggage claim. Suitcases finally in hand, he practically jogs out of the building and tugs me along with him. Only when the warm night air fills his lungs does he seem to relax. For tonight, he’s booked us a simple hotel. He explains that our real destination will be reached in the morning, though he still keeps it a secret despite my pleas for him to reveal it to me.

Airports are exhausting, so it doesn’t take much effort for me to relax in the security of Diego’s arms that night amidst the warmth of the hotel bed’s duvet. Sleep takes me as he nuzzles against my forehead, quietly professing his love in the silence of the room.

Refreshed after a full night’s rest, Diego and I set out for another lengthy trip to our final destination. From the comfort of our rented car, bustling cities give way to vast deserts, and all the while my mind attempts to put the pieces together. It’s been years since I’ve experienced a landscape like this outside of train rides to various parts of the west coast. Diego appears rather proud of himself for the duration of the ride, clearly pleased by my obliviousness. 

“A hint, at the very least,” I grumble about three-quarters through our drive. “Please.”

“A hint…” Diego’s eyes narrow as he studies the road ahead of him. There’s no way that mind of his will come up with anything legitimate; he’s likely trying to craft some sort of joke instead.

“Don’t tell me you’re just driving aimlessly. I love you, but getting stranded out here isn’t my idea of a good time, and I might have to leave you.” 

“You’ll have a good time, I promise.” There’s a pause, I ready myself for the inevitable punchline. “In fact, you could say… it’ll be quite the out-sand-ing time.”

“I can’t stand you.”

Diego chuckles at my insult, knowing it’s said in jest. “Fine, fine. I’ll give you one hint. Just one.” Hand outstretched towards me, one finger is held in front of my face for emphasis.

“Shoot.”

“I’m nearly positive you’ve never been there before.”

“That’s not a hint.” I press my head farther back against the seat and roll my eyes.

“Relax.” Diego gives my thigh a pat before returning his hand to the steering wheel. “We’re nearly there.”

So I do, enjoying the sound of Diego singing along to our road trip playlist and occasionally interjecting to mention facts about the local wildlife. There’s no way his passion for herpetology had nothing to do with choosing this location, and I certainly can’t blame him. Sometime during his chatter and carseat performance I manage to drift off to sleep, only to be woken up an hour later by the feeling of Diego gently shaking my shoulder.

“Darling,” he mumbles, only continuing when my eyes have cracked open, “we’re here.”

It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the sunlight again, met with the sight of a rectangular white building with a large sign I can’t quite make out just yet.

“Where–”

“Amangiri,” Diego grins and studies me for an instant reaction. Where he only gets a blank stare he purses his lips just slightly. “Haven’t you heard of it? Apparently it’s quite popular with celebrities in your country.”

“Celebrities?” My voice cracks under the onslaught of questions riddling my mind. How much money has he spent? How did he even find out about this place? Why couldn’t he have just settled for something less extravagant?

“Apparently the Kardashians are fans of the place,” Diego states as if I should be familiar. He doesn’t give me a chance to fight him any further, just slips out from his side of the car and makes his way to the passenger side.

Begrudgingly I take his hand and allow him to lead me inside the building into a pristine lobby that makes me suddenly feel quite shabby. Diego confidently checks us in, having his usual charismatic small talk with the woman working the front desk and offering a lively ‘thank you’ as soon as he acquires our keys.

Outside again and fully adjusted to the piercingly bright sunlight, I scan the surrounding buildings and note a small group of people relaxing in a crisp, clear pool at the very center.

“So which one is ours?”

“It’s farther out, let’s go.” Diego quickly heads for the car, glancing back when I don’t immediately follow him. 

As has become a trend in our relationship, I refrain from questioning him amidst his visible excitement. Our final drive for the day takes much less time, once more filled with Diego’s lilted singing. When the sight of a cubical cement building comes into view he happily points it out.

“Our little home for the weekend. A bit smaller than I’d pictured.”

Small or not, the suite is gorgeous. The interior is simplistic, decorated with modern furniture and accents of timber. A private fenced-in sky terrace houses a large daybed, a small pool sitting just at its foot. As if all that weren’t enough, there’s a firepit out front as well and floor-to-ceiling windows that bathe the entire space in natural light. Amidst my fawning and disbelief, Diego has pulled our luggage inside and neatly placed it at the foot of the indoor king-sized bed.

“Pictures are deceiving,” he grumbles, making his way back over to assist me in shrugging off my denim jacket. “But It’ll do.”

“‘It’ll do’?” When I whip my head around to face him he raises an eyebrow. “Are you kidding? This is–” I wave my hands around to emphasize no spot of the interior in particular. “It’s amazing.”

Diego’s lips curl into a satisfied smile, his arm slinks around my waist and tugs me closer. “As long as you like it.” His voice lowers. “If you don’t then I’ll personally go to management. Just say the word, love.”

“No need for that.” A scoff makes way for laughter when Diego leans in to press several kisses against my cheek.

“Let’s settle in, then. I’ll order some dinner, you just relax.”

Not needing to be asked twice, I do just that. A satisfying shower eases any of the residual tension from our lengthy drive, then I take an opportunity to step outside and fully appreciate the landscape surrounding us. Endless desert with towering mountains all painted in rich warm shades seem to extend out forever into the distance. The last time I visited Utah was when I was much younger, a period of my life where my family had traveled all over the States to take in the sights of countless national parks. To be able to experience it all over again with Diego fills me with euphoria and excitement.

Speak of the devil, Diego meets me outside with a bag full of what I can only assume is our dinner. He waves it around cheerfully as he slides the glass door shut.

“Turmeric chicken for my darling.” He sets the bag down on the outdoor dining table and rummages through until he locates the mentioned box and sets it down. “Lamb masala for me.” The second entree follows suit. “And wine for later.” He keeps said alcohol in the bag, though still grinning in anticipation of enjoying it this evening.

I swallow back the question of how expensive this meal was; if I’m going to properly enjoy this weekend, I have to allow him to shower me with gifts, regardless of how much money he’s shoveling out. Instead I take a deep breath and sit down with him, succumbing to his charm and quick wit, still as powerful as it was at the beginning of our relationship.

With full bellies, Diego and I return inside and curl up against the couch, meaning to watch television but instead cuddling and unleashing unbridled affection upon each other. We’ve changed into a set of comfortable robes that were neatly folded atop our bed’s mattress, making it much easier to brush hands underneath the soft fabric and steal purposeful touches. 

As the night sky goes dark and fills with an array of bright stars, Diego takes the opportunity to pop open the bottle of wine he’d ordered earlier. After more than a couple of glasses, the television is largely ignored, and he instead puts on a playlist through his phone. I choose not to indulge in drink, knowing it’s much more entertaining to watch as he slowly falls victim to the alcohol running through his system.

Diego isn’t a lightweight by any means, but tonight he doesn’t take it slow. He nearly finishes the bottle in no time, bringing him to a clearly tipsy state. Under the influence, his goofiness and tendency to entertain are always heightened to almost obscene amounts, so it’s no surprise that he’s stumbling around the living room under the guise of dancing, his voice bouncing against the concrete walls surrounding us. 

After witnessing him barely bump into the couch arm and nearly topple over, I giggle at the sight of his exaggerated pout, “I told you to slow down.”

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, taking another swig from the bottle in one hand, squinting at his phone in the other. “S’just wine.”

There’s no time for me to respond; he flips through tracks until he lands on Arctic Monkeys cover of Baby I’m Yours, a personal favorite of his. I anticipate that he’ll be belting with extra enthusiasm, and unfortunately I’m correct.

“Ah,” Diego sighs, letting the first few seconds play until he holds the bottle to his mouth as if it’s a microphone. “Baby I’m yours–”

“Alright, c’mon, I’m getting you some water.” 

When I attempt to get up, Diego latches his hand on my shoulder and spins me around, singing louder to drown out my refusal to engage in his drunken behavior.

“Stop.” My body language betrays my words as I grasp his forearm and step closer. 

“Yours until the poets run out of rhyme,” his voice cracks, his face scrunches up when he tries to recover from his blunder. He skips the next line as he takes another drink from the basically empty bottle.

There’s no way I’m going to win against his determination to entertain and romance me. I fall into step with him instead and let him wrap an arm around my waist, thumping my forehead into the crook of his neck. 

“I’m gonna stay right here, by your side.” He hiccups, chuckling afterwards. “Do my best to keep you satisfied–”

“You’d satisfy me if you hydrated,” I mumble against his chest.

“Shhh. Dance with me, darling.” 

Diego lets the next few lines play out on their own, choosing to down the remainder of the bottle and clumsily drop it to the floor only to kick it out of the way. 

“Yours until two and two is three.” This time his slurring is so painfully obvious that I pull back and gently tug at his arm.

“Alright. Water.” I plead, and he finally stumbles after me.

“I’m fine,” he croons, another hiccup completely trumping his insistence.

“You’re drunk.” I laugh again, filling a glass at the kitchen sink and oustretching it towards him.

Glass in hand, Diego takes a long drink and dramatically sighs afterwards. “Fine, you’re right.” I’m surprised by the way he admits defeat, but his next few words have me rolling my eyes. “I’m drunk… on love.”

“You’re insufferable.” I shake my head but give his shoulder a loving squeeze. When I attempt to refill the glass, he takes it from my hand and slides it across the counter.

“But you love me,” he correctly observes, leaning closer until his alcohol-laced breath is fanning across my lips. “Now kiss me.”

It’s a good thing I’m sober, Diego’s heated kisses and needy touches are intoxicating enough all on their own. Amidst our stumbling and laughter, his phone is abandoned somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom, completely forgotten as pent up tension takes over.

“Have you ridden horses before?” Voice coming out more gravely than I’d intended, the question appears to pique Diego’s interest. 

“‘Course.” The pair of us jostle slightly in our seats as the car rolls over rough terrain. “You have, right?”

I suppose it would have been silly to assume he’d be taking us to do just that if he’d had no previous experience. “Yeah, but it’s been…” I pause, mulling the thought over in my still half-asleep state. “Dunno, probably since I was twelve or something.”

“You’ve got me beat. Think I was ten.” 

When our car finally reaches a small ranch with a fully-housed barn of horses, a farmhand greets us and instructs us to wait with a few more resort guests. A short demonstration ensues; basic safety tips, how to control a horse, how to mount one, all things that Diego half-listens to as he quietly insists this is all common sense. Maybe it is to him, but he’s aided by a photographic memory and a sort of confidence that would drive anyone to think he’s an expert in anything he does or says.

I half-expect Diego to immediately get knocked off his horse, but the animal melts at his touch and offers him immediate trust as soon as he approaches. Granted, he is delicate, sweet-talking the mare and never once putting a hand on her until she ceases backing away. In fact, Diego requires no assistance from the ranchers in mounting his horse, and he watches with amusement as I’m offered a wooden stool in order to even reach my destination. Another round of instruction and rule listing drags on for longer than probably necessary before our whole group is led farther out into the desert.

“So when were you gonna tell me you’re secretly a professional horse jockey?” I ask during a moment of quiet, the pair of us far enough from our group that it now feels more like a private date.

“A jockey?” Diego scoffs. “Please, I haven’t been on a horse in years.” There’s a wistful warmth in his eyes as he gently brushes his hand through his horse’s mane. “Maybe in another lifetime.”

“You’re good with them.” Not that I need to tell him that. He looks right at home, posture perfect and chin lifted with somehow even more confidence than he typically radiates. “Y’all just met and she loves you.”

Diego turns to face me, slowly smiles, and lifts an eyebrow. “Well, I am quite charming.”

“Nevermind.” I roll my eyes and the sound of Diego’s laughter fills the air.

“I rode when I was younger.” He guides his horse to fall in step closer with mine. “Mum had me in classes as soon as I was old enough.”

“Did you enjoy it?” Understanding this as a rare moment of sincere vulnerability, I study him closely but resist further questioning.

“Loved it.” Childlike joy fills his face. “She always said I had a knack for it. S’pose that’s why I’ve always loved animals.”

Instead of asking why he’d ever stopped, I bask in this moment with him, watching his expression light up with the childhood memories he doesn’t deem painful. Stories about his mother always bring about a softer side of Diego, one less tinged with resentment and irritation for the struggles his father had put him through. He’s a guarded man, but in this moment he doesn’t clam up when he catches me lovingly staring at him; instead, he returns the soft expression and reaches over to tightly grasp my hand in his. 

“We’re falling behind.” The observation comes just moments after Diego’s finished explaining the first time he fell off a horse as a young boy.

Diego’s eyes follow where mine rest, along the expanse of towering sandstone pillars and arches. The rest of our group is reduced to small figures slightly blurred by sandy winds, but before my anxiety can get any worse on its own Diego releases my hand and tightly grips his reins.

“I’ll race you.”

“Absolutely not.” My refusal falls on deaf ears, Diego’s wrists flicking and effectively quickening his horse’s pace. “Diego!”

Reckless as ever, he only glances back to chide me. “Loosen up! You’ll lose at this rate!” Another quick gesture and he’s speeding off in front of me.

“Dammit,” I mutter, begrudgingly following his lead and doing my best to balance myself.

In the end, we receive nothing more than a light reminder from the tour guide that it’s safest to maintain a steady pace and remain with the group. The instruction means nothing to Diego, and while it weighs on me for a bit, his thoroughly entertained and heightened mood make the entire thing worth it.

Tonight’s dinner is spent at one of the intimate restaurants that sits within the property of Amangiri Resort. What once was a vast sea of mountains in fiery oranges and reds now appears more subdued, dark and sleeping beneath a sky dotted with stars. Even with the beautifully set table lit by a pair of flickering candles in front of me, I can’t help admiring the scenery from the floor-length window just next to us.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours?” Diego’s low voice breaks me from my trance. “If the food isn’t good we can order something else.”

“Oh, no!” I fix my attention on him instead, immediately enticed by his illuminated features. It’s a wonder why I’d even choose to look at anything else. “Just admiring the view.”

“Me too.” Diego’s lip curls into a sly smile. “But I’d much prefer if the view were looking back at me and enjoying their meal.”

It’s as if we’re back at our very first date, his cheesy charm rendering me powerless and his eyes watching me carefully for every effect that his words have. They are, of course, predictable and just as present as the first time he managed to woo me months ago; an uncontrollable and hot blush, a sheepish smile, a passive scoff. He eats all of it up.

After dinner we retreat back to our suite, eager to settle in and relax for the remainder of the night. After sharing some time together in the large rainfall shower, the night air greets us again in our sky terrace. The cooling breeze brings me to pull my robe tighter around myself as I hear Diego slide the glass door shut and place two mugs of tea on a table for two nestled in the corner of the private space.

Without turning around, my eyes hypnotized by the stillness and clarity of the small outdoor pool, I mutter a quick ‘thank you’ in return for the beverages. Diego’s footsteps against the concrete are easily audible as he approaches me. Our bodies meet, one of his arms slinking around mine and guiding me to turn and face him as his other hand delicately brushes my still-damp hair back from my face.

“The desert suits you,” Diego observes in a hushed voice. “I wish we could live out here. Just the two of us and our little dragon.” His fingertips glide down from my cheek to my jaw, his thumb softly prodding at my lower lip.

I chance a cheeky nibble on the digit, watching with delight as he furrows his brow. “It’s way too hot out here.”

“So you prefer the painfully unpredictable nature of your hometown.” Diego grumbles, lifting an eyebrow and deadpanning the last two words. “I see.”

“Don’t act like you aren’t a glutton for unpredictability.” I dip my hand beneath the sleeve of his robe to grasp the warm skin of his forearm.

He responds to the gesture with a tug, what little distance resting between us now gone. Voice only a whisper, his breath tickles my cheeks.

“Couldn’t possibly have any idea what you’re referring to, my love.”

“Right.”

As is typical, light banter plays out between the two of us, each of our tones and body language becoming increasingly riled up. The previously warm tea is largely ignored save for a few sips, now cooled and forgotten as quick wit and humor gives way to physical affection. But, the underlying energy of clear power play is still ever-present. Neither of us want to let the other win, even when we have no idea what determines victory in the first place.

Diego is awarded a brief second of dominance as I allow his lips to brush tenderly against mine. He’s won the battle, but certainly not the war. It takes hardly any force at all when my palms quickly shove at his chest, sending him toppling back into the pool with a yelp. Waves splash up at me when his body makes contact; his cries of displeasure echo alongside the sloshing of water.

“Kat!” I’m laughing so hard I can barely hear him as he steadies himself in the water. He dramatically whips his head back and forth, sending even more water soaring my way. “Bloody hell, what was that for?”

“I’m sorry,” I choke on a laugh, having to bend down and rest my hands against my knees, “I couldn’t help it, you look like a wet rat.”

Diego stares up at me, hair initially sticking to his face but eventually swiped back by one of his hands. His eyes are blown wide, stuck somewhere between frustration and adoration. The plush robe he’d been wearing is now resting at the top of the water, floating around him like an absurd lifejacket. I try to stifle another laugh but inevitably snort at just how ridiculous he looks.

“You’re a nutter,” Diego whispers, still audible in the cooling desert air.

“Takes one to know one,” I reply and walk to the edge of the pool, slowly sitting down and sinking my legs into the water. 

Diego gives up and fully removes the robe, allowing it to float uselessly atop the now calming waves. Now free, his hands immediately rest against my calves, pulling himself closer until he’s able to comfortably fold his arms across my thighs. It’s almost unfair how cute he looks as he blinks away the droplets resting on his eyelashes, sending them rolling down his beautifully dotted cheeks and full, pouting lips.

“I’m so madly in love with you.”

His words grip me instantly, they’re unexpected and sudden and of course he’s expressed the sentiment before, but in this moment they feel so powerful and real. It’s almost like I don’t care anymore if he happens to win this silly little tussle. There’s no rebuttal I can bring myself to offer.

“I love you, too.”

“I certainly hope so.” Diego plays up the sweet act for another few seconds, then his devilish smile returns and I have essentially no time to prepare for his next move. 

“What –” I sputter, but he’s already got his arms latched around my thighs.

Diego rips me from my spot on the concrete, hoisting me over his shoulder and dunking me in the water, all the while laughing so loud I’m almost certain anyone could hear him from a mile away. He’s nice enough to only submerge me for a split second, but when I come up for air my vision is completely obstructed by my hair.

Amidst my gasping and struggle to achieve balance, Diego takes it upon himself to apologetically brush my soaked bangs back. He seems quite proud of himself, chin lifted as the remainder of his laughing fit plays out.

“Dee,” I keep my tone low and threatening, but Diego doesn’t appear affected. 

“Yes, love?”

Knowing full well that words will do nothing, I allow the playful energy from earlier to take over again, quickly splashing him and relishing in the way he squawks. The concrete surface of the sky terrace quickly becomes dangerously slick with the force of our onslaught on each other; in fact, after a bit, it’s surprising there’s any water left in the pool at all. 

But yet again, the lighthearted brawl mellows out and becomes more subdued in the form of breathless laughter and contrite touches. The pair of us gradually back up into one corner of the pool, my arms draped loosely across his shoulders, his firmly holding me up to accommodate my legs wrapped around his waist. There’s nothing else I’d rather do than wade in heated waters with him, sharing passion-laced kisses and ignoring the fact that our shower earlier was now meaningless.

It’s during a pause for breath that Diego gives my ass a squeeze alongside a firm suggestion. “Might be wise to take this elsewhere before we turn into a couple of prunes.” He vaguely nods towards the day bed just feet away. “As long as you promise not to push me in again.”

As enticing as the idea is, I suppose it’s fine to let him have his way. I press my body tighter against his and quietly laugh. “Promise.”

Today’s activity, despite my hesitation, is a hiking trip. An event that would almost seem like a task if not for Diego’s wild enthusiasm about it. He’s dressed in a sleeveless tank and mid-thigh length athletic shorts, hair haphazardly pulled into a loose ponytail that sticks out from above the clasp of his heather-gray baseball cap. 

“Right then.” Diego shoves his phone in front of my face, screen so close I can’t even make out what he’s showing me. “We’re on the hunt for one of these beauties.”

Only slightly annoyed – likely due more to sleepiness than anything – I gently lower his wrist and look at the photo on his phone. A large lizard with black-and-orange skin that almost appears beaded stares back at me with tiny eyes. I wrack my brain for the name of the species, nearly confident in my guess considering he’s mentioned it a few times before.

“Gila monster?” I hesitantly ask, immediate relief hitting me when Diego grins back at me, his eyes likely sparkling even behind the aviators he’s wearing.

“I’ve never seen one in person.” He excitedly flips through his photos, landing on one of a huddle of hatchlings. “Look how cute.”

“Are they common out here?” I follow Diego as we set out along the marked path, desert terrain crunching beneath our sneakers.

“They’re rare,” Diego continues, lacing his fingers with mine after he tucks his phone away in his pocket. “Extremely so, apparently. But.” He glances at me and grins enough for the sharp points of his teeth to be fully visible. “Yours truly has a way with these beasts.”

The desert sun is unforgiving as we make our way across rough ground and up into rocky hillsides. Diego entertains, spouting off his vast knowledge of reptiles and continually pointing out if he happens to see a common breed within our range of sight. A photography session ensues every single time, him cautiously taking several of just the animal on its own before asking me to include him in the pictures as well. 

It’s likely not common to see this many in general, or for them to be so calm in the presence of people, but maybe it’s due to Diego’s stand powers that he’s able to attract them without doing much. Every so often Diego gives low, animalistic growling or chirping sounds in an effort to further entice them, and it’s only me reminding him that we can’t smuggle a lizard from its natural habitat that drags him away from interacting with them. But hey, at this rate, maybe we will see a gila monster.

Our path is clearly marked and relatively free of other travelers, making it a mostly smooth trek farther and farther up a particularly high mesa. Roughly an hour of walking at a leisurely pace brings us closer to the final destination, made obvious by a high arch casting a thick shadow over the pair of us. 

“Nearly there,” Diego huffs, pausing for breath after several minutes of a steep incline. He glances back at me, momentarily removing his aviators to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Alright?”

Equally sweaty, I take a hefty sip from our shared water bottle and give neither a ‘yes’ or ‘no’. “I’ll be fine when we’re at the top.” I pass the container to him and he quickly indulges as well.

In the end, the trek is far more than worth it. When we reach the top of the mesa we’re blessed with a flat surface that’s much easier to maintain balance on. The thick, towering arch we’d seen while making our way up shields the sky from our view, offering a much needed reprieve from the blistering heat of the sun. 

“Look at that.” Diego’s voice comes from several feet away from me, breaking me from my fixation on the sandstone structure above us. When I whip my head around to face him I find him standing farther out towards the edge, marveling at the view.

There aren’t many things that bring Diego to a speechless state, but this seems to be doing the trick for both of us. The sight is breathtaking; sprawling desert seems to go on forever, dotted with isolated buttes and deep canyons, all surrounded by thick, fiery layers of sand and watched over by a crisp blue sky and pillowy clouds.

Who knows how long we stand there like this, fully transfixed and motionless even as hot wind fans across our faces. It’s only when Diego’s hand grasps mine, easily lacing our fingers together, that I feel grounded again.

“Alright, you win.” I try not to smile at the way he instantly turns to face me. “The hike was worth it.”

“It’s useless to fight me on these things. I saw the photos and knew.” Diego squeezes my hand and softly chuckles. “Quite ridiculous that a Brit is acting as a tour guide for his American girlfriend.”

Ridiculous isn’t the word I would use. Thoughtful… doting…loving… selfless, even. Those are the words my mind conjures up when I consider just how much planning he’s had to do for this entire trip. 

“You’re way too good to me.” I prepare myself for his scolding, but this time he doesn’t call me out for my overly considerate tendencies.

Instead, he tightly wraps an arm around my shoulder, tugging me against his body and sighing blissfully when I embrace him in return. “I only want the best for you, love.”

“Could’ve just locked the two of us in one room for an entire weekend and that would have sufficed.”

“Nonsense.” Diego waves the comment off and releases his hold on me, allowing us both to appreciate the beautiful landscape in front of us all over again. “Besides, I wanted to see it for myself.”

“It’s gorgeous, way cooler than I remember as a kid. Is there anything like this back in the UK?”

“Not even close.” Diego laughs, shaking his head as he appears to reminisce on his time back home. “Certainly not anywhere near Manchester.”

“Bummer. Guess you’re gonna have to stay forever in the States where it’s more interesting, huh?”

That’s a question he doesn’t even entertain, because the answer is so plainly obvious. 

“We have hillsides, I spent a great number of drunken nights hosting bonfires up there. Father would have disowned me much quicker if he’d known about that.” Diego shrugs. “Those times were great for loosening up and screaming until my lungs hurt.”

“Screaming?” Only a tad baffled by the mental image, I give him a perplexed look.

“That’s right,” he instantly responds as if it’s something I should be familiar with, “how else does a teenage boy let out all his rage without bashing his father’s skull in?”

“So you just… went up into the hills and screamed?”

“What, does that not sound appealing to you?” Diego appears equally puzzled. “Don’t you ever feel like letting it all out?”

“Of course I do.” In fact, the idea of screaming into a void until my voice is gone has oddly interested me for years now, but the logistics of being able to do such a thing feel more complicated than its worth. “But I’d prefer not to alarm people.”

“Nevermind that!” Diego rolls his eyes and takes a couple steps away from me. “Look, I’ll do it right now.”

“Diego, don’t! There’s people around here, they’ll think you’re being eaten alive or falling to your death or something.” My anxiety is quickly bubbling up as I watch him teasingly bring a hand up to rest next to his face, as if he’s about to yodel his heart out.

“I’m not going to scream in pain,” he scoffs. “Relax.”

With that, Diego straightens up, takes a deep breath, and lets out the loudest sound I have ever heard him make. It’s less a scream and more an enthusiastic shout, echoing against the thick sandstone pillars and blending seamlessly with the strong breeze. There��s only a couple people up here with us, but they pay him no mind beyond a quick glance. When my own concern fades, I’m instead taken with how beautiful he is in this moment, blonde hair blowing in the wind, face alight with pure joy, chest heaving as he takes another deep breath to recover. 

“See?” He directs his attention back to me, flashing a victorious smile and dismissively waving his hands in the air. “Nothing to it. No harm done. Now it’s your turn.”

“Absolutely not.” Even as I fold my arms in defiance, Diego grapples for my hands and cocks his head, a pout pulling at his lips. “Diego, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Beyond sheer embarrassment, I suppose I don’t have a good reason. As I chew on my lip in thought, he continues trying to persuade me.

“I swear it’s fine, darling. Just think about how good it would feel.”

“I just don’t see the point –”

“Look.” Diego tugs his aviators off his face again and folds them, hooking them on the collar of his tank top. He’s likely trying to ease my worry by looking at me directly, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t working at least a little bit. “Imagine you’re back at work. Think about how frustrating it is, how hard they work you, how belittling it is.”

“I thought we were on vacation.” It’s partly an attempt to change the direction of this exchange.

“Shh, listen.” He quickly dismisses my questioning. “Just think about it, genuinely. Mull it over.” Diego pauses as I do just that, eyes scanning my face for a moment. “How does it feel?”

“Well, it pisses me off, of course.”

“Right. So take that,” he juts his thumb out towards the landscape, “and unleash it. When will you get another chance to do that?”

I hate that he has a point. “Probably not for a very long time.” 

Without another word, Diego steps back and gestures broadly towards the endless horizon, inviting me to do exactly what he’d previously demonstrated. Granted, it takes me a fair amount of mental preparation, but eventually I swallow back the anxiety filling my throat and cup both hands around my mouth, unleashing a booming yell that houses a mixture of largely pent-up emotions. 

Diego stares at me with satisfaction, both for knowing he was correct and for watching the stress practically melt off of me. It’s a shame I have my gaze fixed on the sky as I recover from my emotional release, because Diego’s expression is one of total affection, almost as if he’s so transfixed by me that he’s been rendered speechless all over again.

I take one more deep breath and turn on my heel to face him, shrugging in defeat. “Alright. You were right. Again.”

“It’s a wonder why you even question me anymore.” Diego returns to my side, embraces me again and presses a fleeting kiss to my forehead.

“Thank you, Diego. For all of this.”

“Anything for my beloved. I assume you’re satisfied?”

“God, yeah.” I turn my head, resting my cheek against his shoulder and staring out into the desert again. “I don’t think anything could make this any more perfect.”

Diego hums happily and shifts slightly, but his embrace doesn’t falter. Maybe, if I hadn’t chosen to admire the horizon, I’d have caught the way he’d reached into his pocket as if to grab something. But the action is one of hesitation, ultimately going nowhere.

For our last night at the resort, Diego has dinner delivered again. Our bodies are exhausted even after a refreshing shower, so we decide to relax outside by the firepit for the remainder of the night. The sky is starting to darken and my eyelids are getting heavy, but Diego fills the evening air with commentary on the flurry of pictures we’d taken on our hike. He seems quite pleased with the entire experience, face alight with excitement as he expresses his desire to show his coworkers when he returns to work. Eventually, though, he tucks his phone away and silence settles between us.

“Should we turn in for the night?” I ask, noting the way he’s already sitting up straight and swiveling in his seat to face me. “I’m exhausted.”

“Why the rush? I haven’t had a chance to give you your birthday gift.”

When I thump my head back against my chair, he chuckles. “Is that not what this entire trip has been?”

“Part of it, yes. Now, promise me you won’t shove me into the pool again.”

“Do I have a choice?” His smirk tells me no. 

In one quick motion, Diego brandishes a sealed envelope from his robe, holding it tightly between his pointer and middle finger as he extends it towards me with a confident quirk of one eyebrow.

I groan, begrudgingly taking the gift. “You have to learn that I hate surprises.”

“Relax,” Diego croons. “It’s not as if I left you hanging for days, you can’t pin this irritation on your anxiety.”

I have half a mind to tell him off for psychoanalyzing me, but it’s clear he’s joking. Gift anxiety be damned, I hesitantly slip my finger in the envelope’s gap and tug until its seal is broken. Diego watches intently, eager to experience my joy; sometimes I’m shocked he doesn’t film me when I receive his gifts.

If he ever had, this would have been a prime opportunity. As soon as I see the beginnings of the concert tickets held inside, my jaw drops and my hands still.

“You didn’t –” I start, only to be interrupted.

“They aren’t the best seats, unfortunately, but I know how badly you’ve wanted to see them live.” 

I could have foregone this entire trip, all the experiences we’ve shared over the past couple days, every expensive meal and dip in our private pool. All of it feels meaningless right now as I hold two tickets to Arctic Monkeys in my unworthy hands. 

“Diego, holy shit.” My body acts on its own, rising to my feet and crossing the short distance between our chairs only to straddle his waist and cup his face in my hands. “Kiss me.”

Thoroughly pleased with the reception, Diego grins and fulfills my wish. A brief lapse in contact only occurs when I realize I’ve left the envelope in my seat, anxiously glancing over to make sure it’s still resting there, unaffected by the slight breeze.

“I hope you noticed,” Diego takes the opportunity to further impress me. “It’s on the date of our anniversary. It’s as if Alex himself knew.”

“God, I love you,” I reiterate, as if my actions haven’t said it enough. 

Diego returns the sentiment, clutching me tight against his chest. “I went through hell to get those. Tried to get better seats by appealing to Alex directly but the bloke wouldn’t answer my DMs.” A smidgen of disdain laces his tone.

“As stubborn as you are, there’s no way that would have worked, Dee.” 

“You’d think he’d have the decency to answer an old friend, but,” Diego heavily sighs, “seems fame does things to people.”

Not this again. Since the day we first bonded over a mutual love of the band, Diego’s been insistent on previously meeting Alex at a show. This alone is fairly believable, but the man always takes it one step further, claiming he’d actually befriended the frontman ages ago. Much as he rarely admits to admiring anyone, Alex Turner clearly holds a very special place in Diego’s heart; one that, while completely one-sided, seems to hint at his attraction to the vocalist as well.

“You wanted to rekindle your romance,” I tease him, letting my voice rise as if telling an age-old love story. “I get it, that’s your real motive.”

“Come off it,” Diego scoffs against my shoulder and cuddles closer as if to prove otherwise. “I’ll admit he’s a good-looking man but clearly he has no interest in me.”

“Well, he’s missing out, but hey.” I lift my head to give him a genuine smile. “That means I get you all to myself.”

Diego can’t hide the hint of pink spreading across his cheeks, he’s properly flustered and it’s quite cute how he averts his stare for a moment and purses his lips.

“Now please tell me that’s all you’re going to throw at me, I’m not sure how much more I can handle.” It’s mostly a joke, but the sheer amount of things he’s done for me this weekend is starting to feel overwhelming. 

“I did have one last thing planned, but it seems you’re not interested in your last gift.” Diego dramatically pouts. There’s a glint still ever-present in his eyes, though I never would have needed the hint anyway.

“And what might that be?” Cocking my head in mock curiosity causes his previous pout to curl up into a sly smile.

“I’ll give you three guesses.”

Fingertips playfully gliding across his neck, I list off my predictions with as sultry a tone as I can pull off. “Couldn’t possibly be this overactive mouth of yours.” A gentle tap against his bottom lip punctuates my guess.

“Perhaps.” Diego watches me intently, voice barely above a whisper.

“Or,” I continue, dragging my other palm against the thin fabric of his shirt. “Maybe you’ll let me look at you all night.”

“I think you might be getting warmer, but be careful.” He squeezes my thigh. “Guess incorrectly and you might get nothing.”

“Please, I know you better than that.” I finally reach the subject of my final guess, palming his crotch over his linen joggers. “I’m sure you’d like to get me in bed.”

Diego lowly chuckles and shifts slightly in his seat, clearly affected by the simplicity of my touch. “Is that your final answer?”

“Yeah. When do I get my reward?”

As if my words have given him the exact signal he’d been waiting for, Diego’s arms curl around my waist and he pulls me closer, pressing his forehead to mine.

“Right now.”

Increased strength from his stand aids him in fully picking me up when he rises from his seat, but he takes a quick second to grasp the previously abandoned envelope. It gets tossed somewhere amidst our luggage when we make it inside, and he wastes no time in placing me gently atop the mattress of the suite’s indoor bed. The robe he’d been wearing quietly thumps to the floor as he quickly closes the minuscule distance between us.

“How would you like this to play out, darling?” His voice is sweet, signifying his desire to fully please me this evening. His lips are less so, aggressive and wet as he covers my neck in desperate kisses.

“Surprise me,” I manage, though I’m already becoming distracted by the increasing heat filling my body. “Whatever you want, Dee.”

Diego tuts, hovering over my ear to reiterate his wishes. “Nevermind me, go ahead. I want to please you.”

As hard as it is sometimes to allow myself to indulge in his worship, I remind myself that this weekend is for me, that he’d likely planned this specific moment way ahead of time.

“Kiss me.” It’s likely not the answer he expected, but Diego wastes no time in following my instruction.

Quiet settles between us, Diego moving to hover over my body, his palms taking their place against the sheets on either side of my head. Both our eyes flutter closed as I feel his hair tickling my cheeks, his warm breath following suit before he kisses me with zeal. His flaxen mane makes the perfect spot for my fingers to glide and further spur him on, not that he needs the encouragement.

This tender moment lasts for a few minutes, but Diego never can resist the quickness with which he hungers for more. Having his fill of my lips, he begins descending and pressing wet open-mouthed kisses across my neck only to be interrupted by the fabric of my t-shirt. Diego softly clicks in his tongue in slight frustration but the hem is quickly lifted to accommodate one of his palms pressing flat against my stomach. I shimmy from underneath him, allowing his hand to tug the garment upwards until my chest is fully exposed to him. A groan sounds from deep within his throat at the sight of me as his lips continue their original mission. 

Worshiping my body seems to be his mission tonight, and he knows exactly where I want him. His tongue teases one of my nipples, flicking and dragging across the quickly hardening bud only to pull it tight between his lips, suckling with enthusiasm. I have my hands still gripping loosely on his hair as I fail to resist the sounds of pleasure spilling from my lips. 

Diego pulls off my breast with an exaggerated pop and nuzzles his cheek across the soaked surface. “My sweet girl,” he coos, “I can smell you.”

His heightened senses never fail to make my body ache with desire. There’s something so arousing in knowing he’s keenly aware of my scent, my need to feel him between my legs, whether it’s his face or his cock doesn’t matter. Diego makes a show of slowly backing up until he’s standing at the foot of the bed, fully illuminated by the warm glow of the sunset leaking into the bedroom. When he grasps the underside of my thighs and pulls me closer I giggle, spreading my legs only to lock him in an embrace. 

“You’re soaked through.” Diego firmly places his palm against my clothed lower half, as if to confirm his observation. Of course he’s correct, my breath hitches in my throat at his touch and he smiles lasciviously at the effect he so easily has on me.

Slowly and sensually, Diego unties the loosely tied cord of my joggers. His fingertips are warm and nimble as they hook into the waistband, gradually tugging the bottoms down and off my legs. Before they’ve even hit the floor he already has one hand peeling the hem of my underwear down to follow suit. The chilly air makes me shiver as he presses both palms to my inner thighs, spreading me far enough for my lower half to be fully exposed just for him. 

Obscenity practically radiates off of him in the way he licks his lips and hungrily eyes me. He takes a deep whiff of the air and shakily exhales, my scent filling his nostrils so fully that he quivers with arousal. 

“I’ve ached for you all day, love.” Diego flicks his gaze up to stare salaciously into my eyes for a brief moment. “I constantly crave you, I want you every minute of every day.” He presses his thumb against his lips and gives it a generous coating of spit only to distribute it onto my clit in a circular motion. 

I moan desperately, lifting my hips in an effort to achieve more friction. “Diego, please.”

“You’re so cute when you beg,” Diego coos, “s’pose there’s no sense in wasting time.”

Diego drops to his knees and breathes hot against my wetness. Fiery sunlight sets his hair beautifully ablaze while his tongue works its magic, the softness of the wind perfectly accentuates the obscenely wet sounds of his mouth as he devours me like a man starved. God, he’s incredible; I’ve known this since the first time he’d gone down on me months ago, but even still, every single time feels like a religious experience. 

My body is already showing all the signs of oncoming release, but Diego is way ahead of me. He growls against me and rises to his feet, eagerly slipping his shirt off and tossing it to the floor. His joggers and underwear quickly follow, his cock springing upwards and slapping wetly against his skin. I’m dangerously close and even the simple sight of him threatens to push me over the edge. Diego takes his place above me again, assertive in the way he kisses me and laps up into my mouth. We share moans that get lost between each other's lips when his clock glides across my clit.

“Oh, I can’t take it much longer,” Diego pants, though his hips continue bucking against mine.

“Fuck me,” I beg, grappling at the nape of his neck. “I need you inside me right now.”

Unable to deny me even a little bit, Diego reaches between us and presses his tip to my entrance. His breath shudders as he easily slips inside me and his eyes roll back with pure ecstasy when he plunges himself to the hilt. A slow thrust drives me to whine and softly plead, his name delicious as it rolls off my tongue. 

Diego fucks me without abandon, huffing desperately and growling with every thrust of his hips. It takes only a few seconds for him to rise to his knees, momentarily hooking his arms around my thighs to tug me closer against his crotch before gripping the sides of my waist and moving my body to accommodate every snap of his hips. This is how I like him best, chest fully visible, pecs coated in a light sheen of sweat, head rolling back while he moans and mumbles my name like an obscene prayer. With a heavy gulp he returns his attention to me, locking his eyes with mine and furrowing his brow in an unspoken warning of his oncoming orgasm.

The force and speed of his thrusts increase and my gaze stays fixed on him, not knowing where to focus my attention. As he drags a hand through his already tousled hair the monogram necklace adorning his neck glints in the glow of the sunset; another wave of pure pleasure wracks my body at the realization that he’s mine, I’m his, that his body so perfectly serves me, that his soul is so intimately entangled with mine.

Diego groans, hips stuttering until he knows it’s only a matter of time. He resists for as long as possible, but ultimately slips out from me and tightly grasps his cock. “Fuck, I’m –”

It takes only a few pumps of his fist before he spills out across my chest, hot and thick and punctuated by an animalistic groan. He’s still eager to fuck me, wasting no time in sliding inside me again and studying me closely as he fucks me through the remainder of his orgasm, his thumb again paying close attention to my most sensitive spot.

I feel the coiling of my core, my toes curl and my thighs clamp tightly against him when it hits me. As I grasp desperately at his forearms, he stays sheathed inside me and moans at the feeling of my walls tightly holding him in place. Only when I’ve fully felt the force of every second of my release does he slowly slip out from me and descend once more. His hands find mine, pressing them down against the sheets as he lovingly laces our fingers together. This time our kisses are more gentle, his tenderness returning to care for me in the aftermath of our lovemaking.

Inevitably, exhaustion takes over and Diego rolls to rest on his back, chest still gently heaving as I follow his lead and drape myself across his stomach. His lips are parted to accommodate his labored breath, his eyes are equally expressing his fatigue but they still light up when he meets my gaze. As if pulled by some invisible force, our hands find each other again, perfectly fitting together as we both squeeze; mine is something akin to a wordless ‘thank you’, and I think his might be ‘my pleasure’.

I take a deep breath, letting the chilly desert air fill my lungs as I press my cheek tight against his still damp skin. Gently peppered kisses draw a pleased sigh from Diego’s mouth; there’s nothing but fondness present on his face as he brushes a hand through my hair.

“It’s good every single time,” I decide to praise him, claiming the smile that pulls at his lips as a reward. “You’re amazing, Dee. Unhinged, but amazing.”

“I know.” Diego curls his lip further to reveal one sharp canine. 

The gloating is so classically Diego that I can’t even be annoyed by it. Instead I blow a raspberry against his stomach and revel in the scoff it pulls from him. There’s enough strength in my body now for me to lift myself and crawl closer to him; I press my forehead against his and giggle softly at the way he nudges my nose with his own.

“I love you,” I whisper against his lips. “Thank you.”

Diego quietly returns the sentiment, only audible to me and just barely-so. I wrap my arms around him, tugging him into a tight hug that further transitions into our bare bodies pressed flush against each other, limbs entangled in an intimate embrace. I’m unsure how many times we softly express our love for each other in this moment, but eventually sleep takes us as the star-littered sky bathes us in moonlight.

Unfortunately, all trips must come to an end, and leaving the comfort of our suite is no easy task. Diego’s final gift to me comes in the form of breakfast in bed which he lovingly offers me after waking me up with a kiss to my forehead. He quickly chows down on his own meal then leaves me to relax while he packs up our belongings. One last shower is shared between the two of us before we finally head out.

The drive to the airport is relatively quiet aside from Diego’s usual singing. I’ve started to drift off again, but suddenly he’s stopped the car along the largely empty road, excitedly staring out his window. Without looking at me he reaches over to gently shake my shoulder to make sure I’m awake.

“Darling. Look.” 

Groggily, I sit up straight and glance out his window, immediately understanding his sudden need to stop driving. Resting atop the base of a small butte just a few feet away from the road sits a lizard with orange and black beaded skin.

“Oh my god,” I mumble, as if the creature will somehow hear me from in our car, “is that…”

“A gila monster.”

Diego tries to suppress his excitement, carefully pulling off to the side of the road, all the while maintaining a fixed stare on the lizard he’s been so adamant about spotting this entire trip. This is the most cautious I think I’ve ever seen him; as soon as he exits the car he’s practically tip-toeing towards the animal, slowly pulling his phone from his pocket and snapping a photo when he’s close enough.

I watch from my seat, but when he starts to gesture for me to join him I can’t bring myself to say no. He hands his phone off to me, a wordless request that I quickly understand. Without disturbing the lizard, he crouches down and faces me, gesturing towards it with one thumb as his face lights up with exhilaration. 

I take several photos of him until he waves me closer again and takes his phone back. This time, he pulls me to crouch down with him, making sure to include me in the photo as well. The gila monster is visible from between us, though still far enough back that we don’t disturb it. Diego is giddy as we rush back to the car, immediately erupting into a flurry of excited laughter as soon as he settles back into his seat.

“Finally…” He flips through the photos and stops at the image of both of us. “We can officially call this trip a complete success.”

“I knew you had some kind of ulterior motive,” I tease him, reaching over to affectionately pat his cheek. “Turns out you just wanted to see some lizard.”

“Please.” Diego presses a quick kiss to my palm. “This is just the icing on the cake.”

“I know, I’m just fucking with you.” When I lean closer he follows my lead, gradually closing the distance until he’s whispering against my lips.

“And I love it.”

Sometime amidst our flurry of kisses, the gila monster slinks away as if understanding a bit of privacy might be necessary. Sure, maybe with this detour the drive takes a little longer than expected, and maybe we have less free time before our flight back home, but it’s worth it to indulge for just a little while longer in the vast desert that will forever encapsulate a myriad of unforgettable memories.