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cheesybadgers · 3 months

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Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 22)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

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Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 6,985

Summary: As Horacio's and Javier's stay in Manizales comes to an end, Elena has some words of wisdom and an unexpected offer for their future.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Discussions of coming out, grief, parental loss, canon-typical violence, religious themes, brief non-explicit sexual references, smoking, swearing.

Notes: As promised, here's the second half of their Manizales adventures. I'm still wrestling with editing chapter 23 at the moment, plus life has been kind of busy/stressful lately, so not sure when it will be ready to post. But the finish line is definitely within touching distance now ❤️

Thank you once again to anyone still reading/commenting/making moodboards and playlists or drawing, I'm blown away when my fic inspires others to create. I'll be making a proper masterlist once the fic is finished, where I'll link to everything people have made or have suggested playlist songs etc., plus there'll be my own playlist and moodboards.

Feel free to drop me a comment, whether it's about the new chapter or an older one, I'm always happy to chat 😊

I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested.

Chapter 22: Past, Present, Future

The early morning mist transformed into drizzle in the time it took Horacio to run around the farm boundaries, the spray cooling his clammy skin as he worked up a sweat. He left Javier to wake and shower at his own leisurely pace, a routine they had settled into since arriving here. Although two mornings ago, both Javier and Alejandra were suspiciously worse-for-wear, and Horacio didn’t see much of either of them until after lunch.

Today, they planned to join one of Fabián’s tours, which included a coffee-tasting session. So, even if the exercise hadn’t woken Horacio up, the caffeine certainly would.

The rain eased off once back at the finca, sunrays now straining to break through the low clouds as Horacio showered and dressed, somehow still beating Javier.

Tempting aromas from the kitchen let Horacio know his Mamá was already up and about after making the children breakfast before Alejandra dropped them off at school.

As he sat down at the kitchen table and poured himself a glass of orange juice – his usual coffee would wait for later – both cats, Caturra and Bourbon, took turns rubbing themselves against his legs.

“You and Alejandra loved that stray cat when you were young,” said Elena, who had appeared from the larder with her arms full of eggs, chorizo and arepas. “What was her name?”

“Estrella.”

“She was the next best thing to a jaguar, and you were desperate to see one back then.”

“I remember. Never did, though.”

“Not many get the privilege these days.”

“Can’t say I blame them for keeping out of sight.”

Horacio remembered his Abuela Margarita telling him stories of how the jaguar, snake and condor were the original creators of the world and how the jaguar was tricked by man into parting with its power of fire. The feline creature was forced to survive on its cunning and strength alone, prowling around the mountains and jungles of Colombia, waiting patiently to exact revenge.

For too long, Horacio had stalked, clawed and mauled his prey all over Medellín, seeking vengeance on those who betrayed his country and its people. He was an apex predator maintaining balance and order in the food chain, not out of choice but necessity. A reluctant warrior backed into a corner until a palpable sense of duty kicked in when the threat was too real to ignore.

But whatever the unseen truth was, jaguars gained a reputation as ferocious killers, feared by humans until they became the hunted rather than the hunter, gunned down and chased into hiding and a life of solitude. An act of cowardice by the jaguar on the face of it, but these days, Horacio liked to think of it as an evolutionary advantage, the opposite side of the fight-or-flight coin.

“It’s understandable, yes. But a life in the shadows has its drawbacks.”

“True. But there can be a certain kind of freedom in the dark. Especially when those with flares want you dead.”

“Not everyone offering light wants that, Mijo.”

Horacio, who had focused on the floor for most of the conversation, finally looked up, hazel eyes mirrored back at him with extra shades of wisdom. His dour expression softened, and his shoulders sagged in concession. “I know.”

“Whilst I’ve got you here…” Elena trailed off, disappearing upstairs before returning with a small wooden trinket box.

She sat down at the table and extracted a gold chain from the box. “He’d want you to have it.”

Horacio stared at the pendants that swung back and forth like a pendulum clock as Elena held them out towards him. His cheeks hollowed, and his lips formed a sharp pout from how tightly he held his jaw in place. “Mamá, I can’t. Not after everything. Not after I ran away.”

“What are you talking about?”

“After I was injured, I went into hiding...in Laredo, Texas. And I quit.” He grasped his hands together and bowed his head as though in prayer, but he wasn’t sure even God could help him now he had confessed his sins. “I’m sorry I kept it from you. And I know you’re probably wondering why I went –”

“Javier.”

Horacio froze, undecided if he was caught off guard by the mention of Javier’s name or how he could hear his Mamá’s smile as she said it, as though it was the most glaringly obvious response anyone could ever have given.

“It’s okay, Mijo. You don’t have to explain yourself. He told me about the ranch whilst you and Alejandra cleaned up on your first night here.”

“That’s how you knew?”

“Well, not only that. I might be older these days, but I’m not blind.”

Elena chuckled, but Horacio could tell it wasn’t at his expense. So, he allowed his jaw some leeway, unclenching his teeth and facial muscles, almost appreciating the ache left behind. A chain reaction surged through his body, tension unknowingly carried for decades ebbing away now the secret he once believed would follow him to his grave was not only out but wasn’t being held against him.

And so he threw caution to the wind and let the floodgates open. He told his Mamá about Madrid and working on the ranch, about their plans for the future, about life in Laredo and even the crucifix, just in case she had noticed its absence and assumed the worst.

Talk of the crucifix prompted Elena to take one of Horacio’s hands in hers, where she deposited her gift of gold before he could refuse. “Take it. Please.” Her hand formed a dome over Horacio’s, fingers gently squeezing.

Once Elena withdrew, Horacio unfurled his palm and stared down at his very own El Dorado. “After my injury, I’d dream about this sometimes. And the stories you and Abuelita Mirabel told us about Bochica. I wish it’d been as easy as striking a staff to stop Escobar.”

“Bochica might have saved his people from drowning, but he couldn’t save them from the conquistadors and their gold-digging.”

Horacio rolled his eyes and sighed. “I know you don’t approve of Madrid, Mamá. And I know I’m no Bolívar, but –”

“Mijo, what are you talking about? I know you had your reasons for Madrid – even the second time. That’s not what I meant. And no one’s asking you to be Bolívar.”

A salient monument dedicated to Simón Bolívar stood in the centre of Manizales. The statue was half-man, half-condor, each entity synonymous with the other as national symbols of freedom and sovereignty. It still stung for Horacio to be reminded he had worn the Colombian coat of arms on his uniform sleeve every day, the proud condor flying above the motto Libertad y Orden (Freedom and Order) with Dios y Patria (God and Country) sworn beneath. But unlike Bolívar and Bochica, Horacio was unable to liberate his people.

Instead, he had sought refuge in two countries that had interfered the most with Colombia's autonomy. He had made a home on the land of the former Empire and used the gringos to his advantage when it suited him, never mind allowing one of them into his heart and bed.

Elena pressed her hand tenderly to Horacio’s cheek, the conflict in his mind apparently written all over his face. It was an action he had been on the receiving end of throughout childhood, but one that still had the power to soothe him as though no time had passed since.

“You’re also forgetting Chibchacum’s role in Bochica’s story,” she continued. “He was the one punished to carry the world on his back for creating the flood in the first place. Bochica did the best he could in terrible circumstances, and that’s all anyone could ask for.”

Memories re-surfaced of Abuelita Mirabel sitting between Horacio and Alejandra on the sofa, a blanket spread across the three of them, where she told of how every time there was an earthquake in Colombia, it was the weight of the world shifting on Chibchacum’s back. Little did Horacio know that would become a feeling he was all too familiar with when he was older.

But his Mamá was right; he wasn’t Chibchacum or Bochica. And he certainly wasn't Bolívar. But neither was his Papá.

So, he took a deep breath and raised the chain to unclip the fastening. From there, he attached it behind his neck, letting the deity and the angel finally rest against his skin.

“Beautiful,” Elena said, her eyes suddenly glossy and the corner of her lips twitching.

“Thank you.” Horacio held his Mamá’s gaze until it was necessary to look away and clear his throat. “What else is in there, anyway?” He swiftly motioned towards the box.

Elena passed it over to Horacio so he could look for himself. Nestled inside were his Papá’s wedding ring and lapel pins, his Abuelo Ignacio’s St. Michael’s cross, rosary beads, an old pack of Deportivo Independiente Medellín trading cards, a postcard of an orange grove with handwriting Horacio recognised as his Mamá’s on the back, and a black and white photograph of a young boy draped in a police jacket that was far too big for him. Behind him stood his father in the rest of the uniform the jacket belonged to.

“Is that Papá and Abuelo Ignacio?”

Elena laughed. “Of course!” She got up again without explanation, re-appearing with a photo album this time.

She flicked through it until she found what she was looking for. “Where do you think we got the idea for this from?”

She was pointing at an almost identical picture. The two boys in the photos had the same thick dark hair and charcoal eyes, a resemblance that would carry through into adulthood – although Horacio built up more muscle than his father ever did.

Horacio smiled. “I remember that being taken. It was my first day at school.”

“It was his idea before you set off for school, and he set off for work. He made sure I was ready with the camera when you came downstairs in your uniform.”

“I never knew it was his idea.” The dejection was evident in Horacio’s voice, even if he tried to hide it.

“He might not have said it much, but he was so proud of you, you know. And so am I.”

Horacio swallowed hard with his eyes shut, anything to hold himself together. “I used to take this when you weren’t looking,” he managed to get out, gesturing towards the photo album. “Same with some of the other old albums we had. Well, I kept a couple of them, actually.” He chuckled at the thought of the albums currently residing on a shelf in Madrid. “I always went back to the photos and his uniform for some reason.”

“You didn’t have to hide it from me.”

“Neither did you with us.”

“I know. But you were both so young. You didn’t need that burden on top of everything else.”

“You could never be a burden, Mamá.”

“You and Alejandra were busy forging your careers. I had to stay strong at work, helping people worse off than me. So, I saved most of it for my prayers and Día de Todos los Santos.”

Horacio remembered attending Mass and his Papá’s grave every Día de Todos los Santos. But it was different to Día de Muertos. They weren’t welcoming his Papá home; they were praying for those in purgatory and heaven. And as much as he liked to think his Papá was a saint, there was always a part of him terrified that if he didn’t pray hard enough, his Papá would never be cleansed of his sins.

“I was in Laredo for Día de Muertos. Javier’s father – Chucho – had a box like this for Javier’s mother – Mariana. He used it to make an ofrenda for her.”

Another piece of the puzzle seemed to click into place for Elena in a look that combined realisation with sympathy. Another loss, another parallel, another explanation.

“A beautiful tradition,” she concluded.

“Yeah, it is. One that remembers the people we’ve lost as we knew them and welcomes them back home.”

“A bit like this, you mean?”

“Something like that.”

“Whilst we’re here…there’s something else I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“Go on.”

“Money from the house sale in Medellín has been sitting in a bank account since I moved here, along with some left over from your Papá. The plan was to split it between you and Alejandra when I’m gone, but…why wait?”

“What? But Mamá, that’s your money.”

“Technically, half of it is your Papá’s. But he’s not here. And who better to put that money to good use than his children?”

“Even though I wouldn’t have children of my own to return the favour one day?”

It was a question that had lingered on the tip of Horacio’s tongue since arriving here. A question he had tried to ignore for a long time before that, if he was honest. He learned of Juliana’s first pregnancy from his Mamá, who had heard the news from a friend of a friend. That was all she said on the matter, but Horacio was never sure whether he imagined the traces of disappointment in her voice that it wasn’t his child.

“Horacio, do you really think that matters to me?”

There was no disappointment in Elena’s tone now, just incredulous confusion that made Horacio regret his words.

“Even if I wasn’t surrounded by my amorcitos every single day, I would want you and Alejandra to make your own choices. Live your own lives. If that doesn’t involve children for you, then so be it.”

Horacio nodded, his lungs expelling a freeing breath he hadn't been aware was trapped in the depths of his rib cage. “Have you spoken to Alejandra about the money?”

“Not yet. But I know the farm needs repairs, and they’ve always got plans for this place. Same as the ranch.”

“I don’t own the ranch, though, Mamá.”

“No. But from everything you’ve told me about Chucho, he obviously trusts you with his business. And I don’t imagine you and Javier will want to live in a guesthouse for the rest of your lives. Visas don’t come cheap, either.”

Of course, she was right on all three counts. Horacio had a lot of on-the-job training ahead of him. He would effectively be starting from scratch again. But Chucho had welcomed him with open arms into his home and livelihood. It wasn’t implausible that if Horacio had ideas for the ranch, Chucho would take them on board.

They hadn't discussed living arrangements yet, but Horacio was confident neither he nor Javier had envisaged the guesthouse as a permanent solution. And then there was the small matter of Horacio’s visa. The paperwork upon which their future in Laredo hinged. He tried not to think about all the different ways it could go wrong or what they would do if it did. But that was a problem for another day. A problem that would no doubt be made easier with extra money in tow.

So, he ignored the whispering ghosts of his ancestors because his Mamá was right; he wasn’t doing this for his Papá. And he certainly wasn’t doing it for the people of Colombia, past or present.

“Okay,” he said in the end. “But only if Alejandra agrees to it, too.”

The sound of a throat being cleared caught them off guard and drew a temporary line under the conversation.

“Morning,” Javier greeted as he hovered by the kitchen door. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” Of course, he knew he was and an apology with his eyes was all he could offer Horacio for the time being.

“Good morning, Javier. And on the contrary! How do you feel about calentado?”

Whatever Javier had been expecting Elena’s response to be, for some reason, it wasn’t that. He looked towards Horacio for the slightest hint about what he had walked in on.

Horacio wanted to explain everything – and later he would – but for now, he ushered Javier to sit down.

“Er, sounds perfect, thanks,” Javier told Elena as his foot found Horacio’s under the table.

And as the three of them chatted and helped prepare breakfast, Horacio had to admit Javier was right.

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The coffee tour took up the rest of the morning. It was no wonder Horacio had always been particular on the subject when he knew which were the best beans and blends to be found in Colombia. He still had occasional pangs for his former life, but the weak instant shit the gringos brought with them to Carlos Holguín wasn’t one of them.

Naturally, the heavens opened before the end of the tour – bad for the tourists but good for the soil – and by the time they had returned to the finca, another shower was required.

They showered together, the finca empty for a change. Plus, they had nothing to hide anymore – at least not with the people that mattered the most. That hadn’t quite sunk in for Horacio even after he told Javier everything. Even when his last defences buckled, and he broke down in Javier's arms, letting himself be held. Even when he was kissing Javier, slow and deep, in his family’s bathroom, their breaths heavy and desperate in such a confined space.

One thing could easily have led to another as Horacio pinned Javier against the cold tiles, bare skin seeking out bare skin, emotions running high. There was no doubt they wanted it to, and in almost any other circumstance, it would have.

“Not here,” Horacio whispered, his voice shaking and his forehead falling against Javier’s as he was hit by a sudden clarity of thought. “I’m sorry.”

Javier hushed lightly, cradling Horacio against his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay.” He kissed across damp hair, running his fingers through thick strands that always became curlier when wet. “We don’t have to do anything.”

Light strokes soon morphed into lathered hands as Javier washed and rinsed Horacio’s hair, massaging the shampoo into his scalp and soothing away stubborn remnants of tension.

Although a niggling knot remained, an unspoken question and an uninitiated conversation. “When I was talking with my mother earlier…” Horacio began, closing his eyes and tilting his head back to let the hot jets cascade down his neck and shoulders.

Javier hummed in encouragement, his lips following the water droplets, enveloping Horacio in a blanket of warmth from all angles.

“She reassured me she wouldn’t be disappointed if I never had children.” Horacio let his words hang in the white noise of the shower, giving Javier time to adjust to the change of subject.

“Did you think she would be?”

“It crossed my mind. So much has been passed down through the Carrillo side of my family. From my Abuelo to my Papá. From my Papá to me.”

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but four of your nieces and nephews are around here somewhere.”

Horacio let out a light huff. “Like I could forget. But…they’re Alejandra’s, not mine.”

“I know. But I think you’re forgetting the real question here. Would you be disappointed?”

“Back when I was younger, when I was with Juliana, I might’ve said yes. More out of expectation than anything else. But with you…I think we ripped up and threw away the rule book a long time ago.”

“Thank fuck for that. We’ve never been very good at following rules anyway.”

It didn't take long for them both to laugh at such a flagrant understatement.

“So, you do feel the same then?” Horacio asked in earnest.

“I was less than an hour away from getting my very own white fucking picket fence. If I’d wanted it, I could’ve had it. But that wasn’t my idea of the American Dream.”

Horacio turned in Javier’s arms, and the last seed of doubt was finally plucked from his mind. His lips captured Javier’s again, a statement of intent for their future. A future they no longer had to hide from their families.

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Javier seated himself in the large wooden gazebo at the end of the garden, which doubled as a viewing platform over the steep valley below. For once, sunlight had won the battle against the mist, and the sky was a brilliant shade of blue. It made it possible to see for miles, giving the illusion of being high amongst the surrounding trees alongside the raucous birdlife living in their branches.

It was their penultimate morning in Manizales, upon which Javier had changed a habit of a lifetime by getting up with Horacio. They had penned in some sightseeing of the city later. But for now, Horacio had gone for his usual run, and Javier started the day with possibly the best coffee he had ever drunk.

“May I join you?”

Javier looked up from his cup and cleared his throat. “Oh, er, of course.”

As Elena sat down, the sun glinted off the silver jewellery bonded to Javier’s chest, making them squint at its reflection. He instinctively brought a hand to his neck in a fumbled effort to shove the crucifix beneath the open collar of his shirt.

“You don’t need to do that, you know.”

Fuck. He'd been busted.

However, Elena's voice contained no traces of judgment, and it quickly put Javier at ease. He lowered his hand to his knee, giving a brief bob of the head before taking another sip of coffee.

“I still wear these.” Elena raised her left hand, showing off a sparkling diamond ring above a plain gold band. “The amount of awkward questions about the whereabouts of my husband these have caused over the years. Yet I still can’t bring myself to take them off. Although…”

With her right hand, she took hold of the top ring and wiggled it off her finger, then did the same with the second ring, with more force required this time.

Javier wasn’t sure what was happening until the dappled morning light fell on the inside of the ring he held up to his face.

Suerte que encontré a mi media naranja

(Lucky that I found my soulmate)

“It’s beautiful.”

“Eduardo wasn’t a man of many words, but he had his moments.” Elena’s smile took on a wistful appearance as Javier passed the ring back.

“My Pops is the same with his wedding ring. He insists on wearing it every day, which isn’t really compatible with the day job.”

“I can imagine. I hear it became Horacio’s day job, too?”

“Yeah,” Javier said with an involuntary grin. “I know it might be hard to believe, and I know it’s not what he expected, but it suits him.” Literally as well figuratively, he managed to stop himself from blurting out.

“I can’t remember him ever saying he wanted to be anything other than a police officer. My parents ran a textile business, and Eduardo’s mother was a nurse. But Horacio followed his father, who followed his father like it was their birthright. I always worried about Eduardo, especially if he was running late or was called to an emergency. Then it was the same with Horacio, too. So much blood spilt on our doorsteps, on our streets, in our churches.”

Elena promptly picked up her cup, the balm of hot fruit tea required before she could continue.

“Whenever the phone rang – or I heard a knock at the door – I prepared for the worst. It happened to so many friends and neighbours. So why not my husband or son? Of course, it was Eduardo’s heart in the end. But once Search Bloc made Horacio a walking target, it was only a matter of time. I’d spent years expecting it, but what I hadn’t accounted for in all of my fretting, pacing, and prayers…was you.”

“Me?”

“He told me what you did. How much trouble you and your partner got in for it. How you got injured yourself. How…you saved my son and his men.”

“We couldn’t save them all,” was Javier’s sole response to the lashings of praise he still wasn’t convinced he truly deserved in light of how the ambush came about in the first place.

“You saved more than your superiors were willing to, by the sounds of it.”

Javier scoffed. “Well, I can’t argue with that.”

“Good. And as for the ranch…he’s always liked to keep busy. Just like his father, he could never sit still and relax for long. I can see it. I bet he looks the part.”

“He does, actually.” That was allowed, Javier told himself.

“I thought something had changed after his injury, even if he wouldn’t tell us much. I hoped he’d seen sense, but I knew he was prepared to die for that mission of his – that obsession. I’d almost accepted it, to be honest, especially without Eduardo around to stop him. So, when he told me he’d quit, you were the only reason that made sense.”

“Ever since my Mamá passed, I tried to change things – or control them, at least. Anything to not feel that…helpless again. But it didn’t work like that. Walking away was the only choice left.”

“But it was a choice you both made. That can’t have been easy. I may not have known you very long, but it’s already clear to me you’re good for each other.”

“Even though I’m a gringo?”

“We all have our flaws.” Not only did Elena catch the humour in Javier’s eyes, but she matched and surpassed it with her own. “But to answer your question properly…I would say the complicated histories of our homelands have more in common than meets the eye.”

Javier hummed as he had flashbacks to high school of learning about Laredo starting life as a Spanish colonial settlement before a bloody tug-of-war between Mexico and America – and independence from both – had broken out. There was no denying he had benefited from certain privileges of owning an American passport, and he’d always accepted the gringo label without much pushback. But deep down, he knew it was only half the story.

“You’ve shown each other new paths,” Elena continued. “Safer and happier ones. And that’s what counts.”

“Not quite sure what my new path is yet, to be honest. I’ve spent so long running away from Laredo. I’ve forgotten what it means to live there.”

“It took me a long time to accept my place was here now rather than Medellín. Whenever there was a bombing, or a shooting, or a kidnapping, I had to stop myself from getting on a plane. But Horacio worried I’d be a target because of him. He didn’t want me there. And what could I have done anyway?” Elena let out a self-deprecating huff at the mere thought.

“You wanted to protect your son.”

“Yes. But it wasn’t just that. Medellín was my home and my work. And many of Eduardo’s friends and colleagues were killed. Their wives were sisters to me after his death. But I couldn’t return the favour from down here. Not in the same way, at least. I sent cards, flowers, food parcels, even money sometimes. But it never felt enough.”

“It never does.”

“No. It doesn’t. But I did what I could. And being there for Alejandra and the kids made me feel useful. I got involved with the church again. Worked for a small charity. Even though we’ve been protected from the violence here, the repercussions of it spread far and wide. So many displaced families in need. At least I was making a difference somewhere.”

“I thought I was making a difference. And maybe sometimes I was. But I don’t think it was ever really my fight.”

“Perhaps not. But maybe it helped lead you to the right one.”

“Maybe.”

Javier’s mind drifted back to the family history his Pops told him over the phone in Madrid, not just about his Mamá but his grandparents too. Not to mention all his Pops had done for the local community over the years. He thought of the stories Señora Romero had shared and the kindness she had shown him and Horacio. They had all made a difference in their own ways. And they had done it without leaving their cities, let alone their countries.

As Elena excused herself to ensure Mateo and Sofía weren’t starting another civil war in the kitchen, Javier nursed his coffee cup and surveyed the meandering scenery below. For the first time since he told Stechner to go fuck himself, he could see the outline of a path emerging in front of him. He wasn’t exactly sure where it was leading yet, but at least it was something. Something closer to home.

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Their last day in Manizales came faster than Horacio had expected, presumably a side effect of waiting for the other shoe to drop any minute. Miraculously, it never did.

“Knock knock.”

Horacio looked up from the bed where he was wrestling with the zip of his suitcase – and currently losing. “Morning.” Another tug, but it wouldn’t shift. “You just gonna watch me?”

“Because you’re usually so good at accepting help.” With a dry smile and shake of the head, Alejandra came to the rescue with less heavy-handedness than her brother, unjamming the zip in seconds.

“I’m better than I was.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“And thank you, by the way.” Horacio stood up, lifting the case from the bed and bringing himself face-to-face with his sister. “For everything.”

Alejandra nodded, maintaining eye contact with Horacio long enough to be distracted by the sunlight dancing across the gold chain around his neck. “It suits you.”

“Thanks. Better than it collecting dust in a box.”

“I don’t just mean the necklace.”

The subtle glow of Horacio's pupils mirrored Alejandra's before he stepped forward, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Take care of yourself, okay?” He leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head.

“You too. And don’t leave it so long next time.”

“We won’t. I promise.”

“If it helps, I can sweeten the deal with a stay at one of the hot springs around here. They’re always giving me freebies for supplying their coffee. One of them has private thermal pools and everything.”

“You don’t have to bribe me to visit.” However, the thought of it being him, Javier, and a jacuzzi was enough for him to re-think his position on taking bribes. “Plus, I wanna see what you do with the place.”

“So you can take inspiration?”

Horacio rolled his eyes. “You wish. If you think you can handle the Texan climate, you know where we’ll be.”

“Don’t worry, I can and I will.”

“We about ready?” Javier appeared in the doorway with the rest of their luggage, pausing at the threshold. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” Again.

“It’s okay; your boyfriend was just inviting us all to the ranch.”

It had only been an innocuous comment, but Alejandra managed to stop both men in their tracks with one word, a bashful look passing between them at the novelty of it.

“Oh, er, that’s great. The more the merrier.” Javier recovered just in time, although the flush in his cheeks showed no sign of abating. “My Pops always makes enough food for the population of Texas, so you’d be more than welcome.”

“Likewise here, Javier. As long as you bring more aguardiente next time.” She winked and drew him in for a hug.

“I think that can be arranged.” Javier broke away first so he could look at Alejandra properly. “And thank you…for everything this week.”

Alejandra gave a bob of the head once more, her smile widening as she glanced from Javier to Horacio, the depth of their gratitude beyond words but written all over their faces. “It’s what big sisters are for.”

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After eating enough breakfast to last them for most of their journey to Medellín – the rest supplemented by Elena’s homemade empanadas and cocadas – they were stood back on the front porch again.

There was a chorus of goodbyes this time, ones that didn’t have the foreboding air of finality about them as they had done in the past.

Horacio allowed his Mamá to clutch him with all her strength, the scent of her perfume transporting him straight back to childhood.

“You take care of each other, you hear? And keep me updated on your visa. You know where I am if you need anything.”

“Don’t worry, Mamá. I will.”

“Y no olvide su español.” (And don’t forget your Spanish)

“No lo haré, Mamá.” (I won’t, Mamá) Horacio barely managed to suppress a tone of amused exasperation, given that he had been surrounded by almost as many Spanish voices in Laredo as in Colombia.

“Javier, you heard all of that. So, don’t let him forget.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Javier received the same treatment as Horacio with a bracing hug.

“Don’t be a stranger, Mijo. And don’t fret about finding that path. Just remember to follow your heart.”

------------------------------------------------------

The light was fading fast, leaving behind a watercolour blend of ambers, yellows and reds that blazed against a backdrop of purple haze and the ethereal silhouette of ancient mountains. The glimmer of city life below felt distant, as though they had left this world altogether and now lived above the clouds.

Which was fine by them as they caught their breath; Horacio draped over Javier’s lap in the passenger’s seat, the culmination of their release glistening across their stomachs.

“Just like old times,” Horacio panted as trails of kisses became interspersed with heady laughter.

“Well, not exactly.” Javier’s thumb and forefinger delicately held the silver and gold pendants at their chests before untangling the chains that had become knotted during their tryst.

“No.” Horacio brought his forehead to meet Javier’s, an instant tonic to the painful twinge gripping their hearts as memories of their last visit to this spot resurfaced. “I told you we’d make up for lost time this past week, though.”

“Yeah, I figured you meant in the hotel. Or even back in Madrid. Not the minute you parked up in Medellín.”

“Like you were complaining.”

“Fuck, no, I wasn’t. Less likely to be overheard up here than in the hotel anyway.”

Once Horacio had regained enough feeling in his limbs to dismount and sit back in the driver’s seat, Javier reached for the glove box. He took out their emergency stash of cigarettes and lit up.

Horacio attempted to clean himself up as best he could and did the same for Javier. “So, this is why you brought those with us.” He nodded towards the cigarettes.

“Obviously.” Javier took a long drag and exhaled with a deep sigh, his body latching on quickly to the nicotine, his mind still blitzed.

They passed their shared smoke back and forth in comfortable silence, basking in their afterglows and the aftermath of the last few days.

“You still like it up here then?” Horacio asked after stubbing out the butt in the ashtray between them.

“Yeah, I do. Don’t think I’ve ever seen it looking so beautiful.”

“Me neither. Funny how the same view can look completely different in a new light.”

Javier hummed in agreement, their gaze now fixed on each other rather than the windshield, the irony not lost that they were back in the same spot where it could easily all have ended.

"I can think of a way to make it even better, though.”

“Go on.”

In a flurry of movement, Javier zipped up his jeans, pulled on his shirt and got out of the car. He rustled around in the trunk until he retrieved a couple of spare towels they had packed for emergencies, along with their jackets. It wasn’t quite the thick blanket from the ranch, but at least it was a mild night.

They sprawled out on the grass behind the car, lying atop the towels and wrapped in their jackets. Javier propped his head on a folded sweater with Horacio resting against his chest at an angle that allowed them both to take in the cityscape below.

“How about we just stay here forever?” Javier rasped between slow, sensual kisses.

Horacio moaned against Javier’s lips as he went back for more. “Don’t tempt me. At least we didn’t book an early flight tomorrow.”

“Good point.” Another string of kisses, each more addictive than the last.

“Although,” Horacio began once they had calmed down, his fingers tracing patterns across Javier’s torso, "we’ve got a lot to sort out once we’re back in Madrid.”

“I know. But at least we ripped off the band-aid.” One of Javier’s hands found Horacio’s and slotted their fingers together.

“I spent so much energy worrying about this trip; I was almost expecting something bad to happen.”

Javier raised their linked hands to his mouth and brushed his lips over Horacio’s knuckles. “But it didn’t.”

“No. In fact…I think I know what I want to do with the money.”

“Oh yeah?”

“If you and your father agree to it, that is. And I can find a good lawyer.”

Javier lifted his head slightly and turned in Horacio's direction, urging him to continue.

“I was thinking….what if we bought the corn farm? The three of us, I mean.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah. I think I am.” Horacio couldn’t help but laugh now he’d said it out loud. “Like I said, I’d need to check everything with a lawyer about my visa first. But there is an option for investors. And you still have some of your money from the ranch, right?”

“Yeah, I do. And obviously, you can count me in. But…shit, Horacio. Are you sure? I mean, it’s your inheritance.”

“It's nothing Alejandra isn't doing with her share. And well, if your father bought it outright, an empty cottage would go to waste on our doorstep. Last I looked, it needed a bit of maintenance, but it wasn’t in bad shape.”

Now, it was Javier’s turn to laugh. “Got it all figured out, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“It’s funny, ‘cos, er...I’ve been thinking, too. About something your Mamá said.”

“About what?”

“About looking closer to home for a new path. And I think I might have found it.”

------------------------------------------------------

They only meant to stay until they got too cold, but their shared body heat let them doze until sunrise. The watercolour skyline re-emerged from behind the mountain tops, gradually bathing Medellín in a heavenly half-light, stirring them awake as it reached their hideaway.

The plan was to freshen up and have breakfast at the hotel before dropping off the hire car and heading to the airport after lunch. But there was something Horacio needed to do whilst the city wasn’t fully awake, whilst the low sun felt like a gift from God Himself.

As they pulled up a stone’s throw away from Horacio’s old family church – a few blocks down from his childhood home and former apartment that Trujillo had cleared after his hasty exit from Carlos Holguín – Javier hesitated, unsure if this was something Horacio needed to do alone.

“Come with me,” Horacio said after stepping out of the car as though he had read Javier’s mind. “Please.”

That was all the confirmation Javier needed to follow.

They walked silently along a well-kept pathway that forked off in multiple directions. It was maze-like and disorientating, but Horacio took purposeful strides despite how long it had been since his last visit.

He halted at a large marble slate engraved with a crucifix and the CNP emblem. There were some dried old flowers in a vase at the base of it, where Horacio knelt down and swapped them for the fresh bunch of marigolds he’d carried from the car.

“A gift from Mamá,” he whispered. “She’ll be back again soon.”

Horacio remained on the grass and brought his hands up to the back of his neck, where he unhooked the gold chain. He studied it between his fingers, then clasped it in his palm and bowed his head.

The cemetery was empty at this time in the morning, the loud rustling in the trees drowning out the murmur of traffic beginning to burst into life.

Javier watched wordlessly a few feet behind Horacio, almost beginning to feel like he was intruding.

“Pray with me.”

“Are you sure? What if someone –”

“I’m sure. No one’s here but us.”

Javier checked around them once, then twice, just in case. Even if someone did happen to come by, two men praying over a grave wasn’t exactly the most compromising position they could be found in. But it was better to be safe than sorry.

Once satisfied, Javier joined Horacio on the grass. They couldn’t get away with how they had done this in private, but Horacio dropped his right hand to the floor beside him, palm outstretched.

Javier took the hint and discreetly placed his left hand over the top, encasing the gold necklace between them.

With heads lowered and eyes closed, they prayed. An unspoken acknowledgement of all they had lost and how it had led them here. They honoured memories made, those that would never be, and those they could still make together despite everything.

Horacio’s eyes fluttered open as the sunlight fell on the headstone above him, forcing him to blink away a glassy sheen. His hand stayed connected with Javier’s on the earth, his present and future by his side, giving him strength to finally make peace with his past.

He rose to his feet and made the sign of the cross on his chest before running his fingers along the embossed letters of his father’s name. “Te quiero mucho, Papá.”

Javier gave as much time as was needed until risking a gentle squeeze of Horacio’s shoulder. “You ready?”

Horacio looked from the gravestone to Javier, the charcoal of his irises burning with the fire of conviction. “I’m ready.”

#Narcos fic #Narcos #Javier Peña #Horacio Carrillo #Carrillo #Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo #Pedro Pascal #Maurice Compte #Narcos fanfic #Narcos fanfiction #Narcos fan fic #My Fan Fic #My Narcos Fic

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narcosmx · 2 years

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being the arellano baby and being into ismael "mayo" zambada would include

got covid after nearly 3 years of dodging sick children and watched narcos mexico all over again... as you do

anyways here we are again with my absolute obsession with being in the arellano-felix family

the stranglehold this family has on me is absolutely astonishing

okay but hear me out, being ramon's T W IN

T W I N

and this could go one of two ways; being ramon's literal identical, his partner in cirme, the moment when the both of you get this twinkle in your eye everyone in tijuana should be afraid

oR OR OR the complete opposite like ramon is like looks like a cinnmaon roll, would kill you and you're the is a cinnamon roll is a cinnamon roll one

completely and utterly seperated from the family business, don't want to get you involved until ...

okay so i am going to go with the being the opposite to ramon, being the sweet as pie, doe eyed, glue to this family... the apple of benjamin's eye and ramon's light and acknowledgement that he could be better you're basically the same person anyways

i am just imagining that scene in season 2 when ramon is walking around listening to his cd player or walkman or whatever

and you doing the same thing bopping to some fucking early luis miguel and dancing through the house

GOD YOU BRING SO MUCH LIGHT INTO THIS HOME

preppy fresa princess

so it's not like they kick you the fuck out when business is happening, you're around and moving through life but listening... always listening

when people come around for business you observe and notice people, usually don't peak your interest they don't get more than a kiss on the cheek and a faint smile before you skip off bringing a levity to situations that benjamin would always take advantage of

until you see this ruggedly handsome man making his way through tijuana

can you just imagine with me if you will, coming down the staircase in the arellano-felix home, just your polished pretty self and you walk through the corridor of the dinning room and see someone new sitting at the dinning room table

you giving him this curious doe eyed look with a soft smile and mayo getting all nervous kill me

he like gets to his feet real fast, takes off his hat and bows his head a little like "buenos dias, herm

osa" and he's just looking at you like you're an absolute gem literally like this delicate little flower

and benjamin walks in and is like "mayo, mi hermanita. nena, mayo" and you literally have to snap out of your little trance and walk over to mayo to give him your customary kiss on the cheeck and i just him holding your hand loosly when you come over to kiss him

HIM KISSING THE BACK OF YOUR HAND lightly before you scamper off mostly in embarrassment because you couldn't squeak a word out

ramon coming up behind you giving you a knowing look as you communicate in pure twin telepathy, averting your eyes immediately because if you don't literally he will read your mind

crying at you muddling around the kitchen, wandering around pretending to do something as you walk past the walkway to the dinning room every 5 minutes to look at mayo and exchange these little smiles :( :(

you making something for them fucking idk why im imagining you making something like your abuelas agua de melon and bringing it over to them

and bringing it over all excited and benjamin is just doing that soft adoring smile, ramon is like fuck yeah aguas frescas and and mayo just whispers "gracias, princesa"

i just i just at the end of the meeting when they're saying goodbyes, you pop in and are like "benja, you invited mayo to dina's wedding right ?" batting eyelashes

benjamin being like oh yeah yeah come celebrate with us

and and you come to say goodbye to mayo and you're giving him a kiss on the cheek and he's like "nos vemos pronto, mi angel"

and you're left standing like heart eyes

and i'm dying, enedina coming up being you and being like "close your mouth, mija, you'll let flies in" and tickling your sides because twin telepathy may be a thing but your older sister knows you better than you know yourself

and so now the wedding you've been buzzing about for the past like year is now all you can freaking think about because you get to see mayo again and maybe steal a second away from your brothers

listen, the wedding day, you're walking down the aisle as one of the bridesmaids and you're like not so sneakily looking for mayo good lord

he flashes you the sweetest smile, he's looking at you like your his fucking bride and i

you turn redder than the dress you're fucking wearing

for the first time in a long time your like can we get this over with so we can fucking party

and and next time i'll write a whole mayo at the wedding thing and i ahh

#ismael el mayo zambada #narcos mexico #narcos mexico fanfiction #narcos mexico imagine #el mayo x reader #benjamin arellano felix #ramon arellano felix

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un-viaje-en-blanco-y-negro · 5 months

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He visto muchas criticas negativas acerca de esta película y quiero expresar mi opinion que parece ser no muy popular. “¡Que viva Mexico!” En mi opinion es una película que refleja perfectamente muchas verdades que el mexicano no le gusta admitir, muchas personas que le han criticado se enfocan mas en detalles como los hoyos en el trama y en la critica política por parte de el director Luis Estrada.

Para mi, me dejo en un estado de reflexion de muchas cosas, las cuales expresare a continuación. (Spoilers!!)

La historia empieza con nuestro protagonista “Pancho” un hombre bien acomodado que parece le va bien en la vida trabajando en una empresa y viviendo en una casa bonita con su esposa Mari y sus dos hijos. Durante los primeros 15 minutos no me agradaba para nada el personaje. Se presenta como una persona que vive en un mundo gobernado por reglas sociales impuestas por las personas de clase alta y literalmente se presenta como si fuera arriba de los demás.

Uno pensaría que le hace falta humildad y que es una persona demasiado vanidosa, superficial o egoísta. Mas adelante cuando nos enteramos que el venia de una familia extremadamente pobre y que tiene mas de 20 años sin verlos también pensé mal del personaje. Cuando llegamos a la parte de la historia en que se le notifica a Pancho que su abuelo falleció y que en su testamento pidió como ultimo requisito que estuvieran todos los familiares presentes en el funeral antes de leer el testamento y después de pensarlo bien, al principio no queriendo ir, se decide ir y ahí conocemos a su familia.

La abuela, sus padres, hermanos, cuñadas y mas de 20 sobrinos. El hermano mayor que nunca se caso ni tiene trabajo. Una hermana que quiso ser monja pero actualmente se encuentra embarazada de un “poeta” tartamudo e invalido, otro hermano que es mariachi cuya esposa es una jovencita adolescente y ya tienen mas de 10 hijos, un hermano que ahora es hermana ya que es transexual, un hermano narco (o por lo menos quiere aparentarlo o querer llegar a serlo) quien tiene a una mujer muy coqueta como esposa y una hermana de quince años que también ya tiene muchos hijos de diferentes padres cada uno.

Aparte su padre es trilliso, uno de ellos se dedica a la política como presidente municipal, otro es sacerdote y el padre de Pancho es minero. Me encanta la referencia que hace eso a la pelicula “los tres huastecos”

A primera impresión sentí algo de coraje, ya que todos los miembros de la familia se presentan como estereotipos sumamente exagerados. Cosa que al final de la película entendí que fue una elección por parte del director y no de manera maliciosa. En cierto modo tiene razón en personalizar el aspecto conservador, religioso, machista y homofobico en los personajes.

A simple vista puede ser ofensivo pero de esa manera nos llegamos a ver nosotros mismos, nadie es mas racista contra los mexicanos, que el propio mexicano.

La familia le hace pasar malos ratos a pancho, haciendo fiestas las cuales no pueden pagar y Pancho termina pagando, pidiéndole dinero constantemente, espiándole mientras esta íntimamente con su esposa, robándole la ropa y joyas a su esposa, rompiéndole los juguetes a sus hijos, y pidiéndole que page mordida para que no arresten al hermano que se cree narco.

Todo esto hace que Pancho quiera irse lo más pronto posible, al leerse el testamento es revelado que pancho es el heredero universal de todo, los terrenos de una vieja mina que supuestamente esta agotada, tierras en las cuales según no se puede sembrar nada y una casa que esta en el medio de la nada y casi en ruinas (casa en la cual vive la familia de Pancho). Él a no creer ningún valor en los bienes piensa dejárselo todo a su familia, pero todo cambia cuando le entregan la caja fuerte del abuelo y dentro de ella encuentran mucho oro, la familia cree que pancho compartirá el botín pero pancho les miente diciéndoles que dentro de la caja no hay nada de valor. Esto les molesta tanto a la familia que incendian el coche de Pancho, con eso impiden que se vaya, ya que el pueblo esta a horas de la ciudad y no hay transporte fiable en el area.

A partir de ese momento, la atmósfera de la película cambia drásticamente, pasa de sentirse como una comedia a sentirse como un reflejo de la familia quebrada y tóxica. La abuela usando su estados de “viejita dulce e inocente” manipulando a pancho y a los demas, los hermanos y cuñadas queriendo ganar favor con pancho para que comparta el oro queriendo armar lazos por medio del apadrinamiento, sus padres usando el nombre de “la sangre” y “el deber” porque “somos familia”. En este punto de la película empece a simpatizar con Pancho y darme cuenta del porqué abandono a su familia por tanto tiempo.

Por equivocación Pancho termina en la cárcel, para poder sacarlo, su esposa Mari busca el oro que escondieron pero no lo puede encontrar, la familia empieza a ayudar pero no logran encontrarlo, su esposa cansada se regresa a la ciudad con sus hijos en lo que Pancho sale libre. Ya libre, Pancho se dedica a buscar el oro pero exige hacerlo sin ayuda, busca sin parar hasta el punto de colapsar.

Vemos el paso del tiempo, como su barba crece, su familia le insiste que ya pare y mejor se regrese a la ciudad con su familia. Un momento deprimente sin duda, me hace pensar en todas las personas que han dejado todo para alejarse de la familia toxica y al volver, recuerdan el motivo por el que se fueron. Esta en un ambiente en el que no puede pedirles ayuda, ya que no confía en ellos y no lo merecen después de demostrarles que son capaces de todo para realizar sus propios intereses.

Pancho eventualmente se rinde y decide darle todo a su tio el politico presidente municipal, quien inmediatamente al irse Pancho, desaloja de manera violenta a la familia y todos van a la cárcel. El tio politico paga a una compañía estranjera para escarbar y encontrar el oro, el cual efectivamente encuentran y mas aparte encuentran mas oro bajo tierra, pero el tio olvido que al contratarlos firmo un acuerdo en el que dice que todo lo que encuentren les pertenece a los extranjeros.

Al salir la familia de la cárcel, regresan al lugar donde estaba su casa y encuentrar una enorme mina industrial.

Para mi, esta es la parte que me apuñalo al corazón. Sobre todo al ver a la abuela al final de la escena, sola y enfrente de la cerca en donde antes era su hogar.

Para mi el hecho de que en el ultimo fragmento, la única que se ve es la abuela es como si fuera una metáfora de las personas vulnerables e indefensas que son robadas de sus recursos por muchos factores. Así como Mexico mismo, robado de sus materias primas para ser explotado por extranjero que cuentan con los recursos para hacerlo.

Al final, vemos como pancho volvió a trabajar en la misma empresa pero con un puesto mucho mas bajo y “humilde” y recordé como al principio de la película quería verlo exactamente así. Solo para darme cuenta de que me sentía mal por él, quien había llegado al cargo de gerente por su propio esfuerzo y por su cuenta después de haberse ido de casa y de su familia, quien desesperadamente busco un tesoro para mejorar su situación solo para terminar peor que antes y con su tediosa familia viviendo con el, para que su padre le diga en su cara que le da gusto verlo “igual de miserable que ellos” demostrando que la misma sangre puede ser tu peor enemigo.

A muchos se les quedo todo como si el mensaje fuera “el pobre es pobre porque quiere” y les molesto esa impresión. Sin embargo yo creo que el mensaje mas bien es:

El pobre es pobre porque quiere? Si y No.

Si, como por ejemplo en el aspecto de que a pesar de haber muchos miembros de la familia sanos y fuertes, ninguno trabaja y viven dependiendo del gobierno.

No, porque por ejemplo los personajes viven en un lugar en el que no se puede sembrar nada, no hay nada, no hay oportunidades de trabajo y no es tan facil como decir “vamonos a otro lado” y ya. Porque para irse, con que dinero? Como transportarían a toda la familia? Si se fueran solamente algunos familiares, no hay garantia de que tubieran lo suficiente para ayudar a toda la familia cuando apenas una persona pude valerse por si misma en las ciudades, donde todo es mucho mas caro.

No, porque como vemos en la historia, la familia literalmente estaban sentados en oro, pero sin el equipo necesario para trabajar una mina. No tenían para comer, mucho menos para adquirir maquinaria para poder trabajarla, si les ofrecieran ayuda fácilmente se quedan igual que el tio, sin nada porque carecen el conocimiento para manejar contratos llenos de engaños y cláusulas.

Pero mas que nada, el mensaje de como estamos no solamente políticamente sino el origen de porque lad personas son como son, la familia. Los traumas generacionales y las ideologías y maneras de pensar anticuadas y fuera de toque. No solamente esta roto el sistema, el núcleo familiar esta roto. A muchos les ofendió ese mensaje, pero las verdades duelen.

Si en vez de molestarnos por una critica, nos pusiéramos a analizar nuestras propias faltas y como podemos mejorar, creo que podríamos empezar un camino de mejoramiento.

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chacalela · 8 months

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series

reina del flow: se trata de una adolecente llamada yeimi montoya que tenia un grupito con dos jovenes (charly y juancho) estos querian ser productores y cantantes. charly era el vocalista yeimi la que escribia las canciones y uancho era el productor.

ellos vivian en colombia medellin en la comuna en barrios bajos con pocos recursos ya que en ese lugar habia muvha droga, muvjos narcotraficante una de esos narcos estaba el tio de charly, manin este era uno de los mas poderosos de la comuna, el queria meter a charly en sus malos tratos (venta de droga y delincuencia) manin pasaba todos loos meses buscandp dinero de la gente que vivia alli entonces los padre de yeimi quisieron enfrentarlony decirle que ya no le ibana a pagar mas een ese entonces manin le pega un pepaso (disparo) yeimi no se encontraba en casa porqye esraba haciendo música con sus amigos cuando ella iba llegando a casa encuentra con este trágico accidente. pasan las semanas y yemi nesecita plata para los gastos en eso sus amigos planearon un evento dionde cantaría charly, cobrarian entradas en ese evento la abuela de yeimi se cae y la pisan, yeimi la lleva al hospital y justo manin habia mandado a charly y a algunos de sus hombres para robar el dinero del hospital en eso que bvan a ser esza vuelta mientras sacaban la plata venia un guardia en ese momentoi charly le dispara yeimi reconoce a charly poor su tatuaje en la muneca, ella queda impactrada y nesecita decirle a charly de lo que vio. se juntaron y ella le dijo a vcharly que lo iba hacer un aviso a la policia de lo ocurrido, charly para no ir a la carcel decicde ponerle droga en la maleta de yeimi ya que iban a viajar a los estados unidos para hacer musica con productores en eso los policis en el aeropuerto descubren a yeimi con droga y se va a la carcel por 22 anos mientras qye charly hacia musica con la letras robadas de yeimi de hizo famoso mientras yeimi quedo embarazda de chraly dentro de la carcel. cuandio nacio el hijo ella se lo dioo a la abuela y manin mato a la abuela, quemop la casa y se robo al hijo dejandolos a ambos por muertos. la dea (policia de investigaciones de estados unidos) le ofrece un negocio a yeimi que ella teia qye ayudar a llegar al objetivo de manin por charly en eso charly cuando ve a yeimi quedo enamorado pero ella estaba con otra identidad y se llamaba tammy andrade con paples de productora y todo. pasa el tiempon logaron la captura de manin y quedo muerto pero yeimi pasona decirle de que quien era "la nina que le mataron a sus papas y abuela" el hijo de yeimi estaba vivo porque lo crio la mama de charly y manin el se llamab eric, yeimi se entera se queda con el charly se va a la carcel por fraude y complice. juancho se cadsa con yeimi y vivieron de la musica.

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tengomilpalabrasparati · 28 days

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Cumpleaños 🎂

¡Hoy cumple 49 años Pedro Pascal!

José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal (Santiago de Chile, 2 de abril de 1975), conocido como Pedro Pascal

Es conocido por interpretar al príncipe Oberyn Martell en la serie de televisión "Game of Thrones", a Javier Peña en Narcos de Netflix; a el Mandaloriano en la serie "The Mandalorian", y por la serie "The Last of Us" de HBO, donde interpreta al protagonista Joel Miller.

Pascal nació en Santiago de Chile. Su madre es Verónica Pascal, psicóloga infantil, y su padre es José Balmaceda, médico de fertilidad. Es nieto de un matrimonio chileno y otro matrimonio español: su abuela nació en la isla de Mallorca y su abuelo en el País Vasco.

Sus padres fueron simpatizantes del presidente Salvador Allende, y estuvieron involucrados en el movimiento de oposición contra la dictadura militar de Augusto Pinochet alrededor de la fecha de su nacimiento. Además, su madre Verónica Pascal es pariente de Andrés Pascal Allende, dirigente del Movimiento de Izquierda Revolucionaria

Se mudó a Nueva York en 1993 y ha vivido allí desde entonces. Estudió arte dramático en la Orange County High School of the Arts y la Tisch School of the Arts de la Universidad de Nueva York.

Mientras estudiaba en la Universidad de Nueva York, su padre estuvo involucrado en un escándalo en la clínica de fertilidad del condado de Orange que dirigía con otros dos hombres, como resultado de lo cual su padre, madre y dos hermanos menores regresaron a Chile. Su madre falleció poco tiempo después.

Pascal ha aparecido en series de televisión como "Buffy, la cazavampiros", "The Good Wife" y "Graceland". También apareció en la tercera temporada de "Homeland", en septiembre de 2013 y también como el agente del FBI Marcus Pike en la serie "El mentalista".

#Cumpleaños 🎂#Pedro Pascal

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salt-is-a-terrible-currency · 10 months

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The first time I felt a ghost

Written for day 5 of the Narcos fandom smut alphabet over on @narcosfandomdiscord

Fandom: Narcos

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Words: 716

Pairing: Javier x f!reader

Prompt: eldritch

Warnings: smut, horny ghosts

It’s a decent looking place, at least from the outside. Paint’s a bit faded, the plants are sad but not dying, but other than that he has a hard time seeing why it should be empty this time of year.

“What is this place?” he asks her, eyeing the place out of the corner of his eye as he unloads the trunk.

“Coworker’s sister’s cabin,” she answers brightly then raise her hands in front of her, making her fingers twitch as her voice takes on a deep raspy tone when she speaks again: “Supposed to be haunted.”

Javier purses his lips, tries to ignore the way the hair at the back of his neck rises. That would explain why the place is empty during high-season.

“That’s not funny,” he admonishes. She pauses, looks at him dumbfounded. Then her face cracks open in a grin.

“Are you scared, Javi?” she teases over her shoulder as she takes off toward the cabin.

“There are some things you don’t mess with,” he says. That’s been his policy ever since childhood, when his abuela told him about the night her father came home from work looking like he’d stared into the face of death itself. She either doesn't hear him or ignores him, busy as she is with patting herself down for the key. Javier remains by the car for a second, eyeing the house as his grandma’s voice whispers in the back of his head: and that’s the first time I saw a ghost, mijito. The first, but not the last. He shakes the uneasy feeling, takes a deep breath, and follows her inside.

⁂

She’s stroking his cheek, petting him awake with the gentle touch. Javier sighs, turns his still heavy-lidded eyes toward her.

“Morning, bebita. You sleep alright?” She answers him with a sleepy groan, shifting under the covers to wrap both arms around him in a tight squeeze.

“Mhm. And I was hoping to continue sleeping for a bit longer.” Between the crack in his lids, he sees her face relaxed and eyes closed. The dread that crept up on Javier yesterday as they arrived at the cabin disappeared as soon as he stepped inside. It’s a nice place, not too unlike some of the worker’s cabins back on his dad’s ranch except more up to date and with a better bed.

“What happened to ‘it’s beautiful out here, Javi, we need to make the most of it’?” he snarks. She huffs but the petting at his cheek grows more insistent, nails scratching and sending a shock of sensation straight to his cock. He chuckles, kisses her nose.

“Careful there, bebita, those nails are sharp.”

“What?” she asks drowsily. He goes to repeat himself but is silenced by her slinging a leg over his hip. He’s definitely awake now. Or at least parts of him are. Javier rolls over, pinning her beneath him as he settles his full weight on top of her and pinning her hands above her head. For the first time, her eyes open.

“Sure you don’t want to go outside?” he asks. She answers by lifting her hips from the bed, deliberately pushing against him. After that it’s a scramble of limbs, of pushing underwear out of the way, and all the while she scratches at his cheek as if to urge him to hurry up. Finally, situated inside of her, Javier begins to move. He’s too enthralled, too enamored by how she clutches him to take note of how the petting at his cheek hasn’t stopped even with her hands above her head.

“Jesus, Javi,” she moans. “A little harder.” He slams his hips forward. She jolts against the headboard, mouth open in a gasp.

“Good. So good. But not what I meant. Meant- fuck!” she cries out, arching off the bed. “My nipples.” He eyes her breasts hungrily, sees the left nipple as hard as a pebble but the right softer. He keeps her wrists pinned but takes the hand he was bracing himself on and brings it to her bud, beginning to roll it between index and middle finger as his hand cups the soft flesh of her. Hard, as she requested. She sighs contentedly, twists into his touch, and the morning goes on with none of them the wiser.

#nffalphabet #javier pena fic #javier pena x f!reader #narcos fic

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mariabolivar12 · 1 year

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Luz de esperanza part 2

Emparejamiento: horacio carrillo x policia lectora

N/E: otra idea que se me ocurrió de repente

Resumen: Horacio lleva mucho tiempo enamorado de ti; en vista de que Horacio pretendía pasar la navidad solo lo invitaste a la casa de tu abuela para pasar la navidad juntos...lo que no te esperabas era el robo que iba a hacer en frente de toda tu familia

Estabas soñando despierta, seguro, lo creíste por un momento, pero luego de despertar de tu pequeña siesta y ver al hombre más guapo del mundo dormido a tu lado, te convenciste de que no era un sueño, sonreír era ahora la emoción más clara en tu rostro, era inevitable no hacerlo, estabas tan feliz que no podías ocultarlo…

Estabas nerviosa hasta el demonio, tus padres conocerán al hombre del que estás perdidamente enamorada, que por cierto no hay que olvidar que ese mismo hombre es tu jefe, el mismo jefe de apariencia fría y estoica que duerme como un bebé a tu lado, su cabeza recostada en tu hombro y su mano fielmente entrelazada con la tuya, definitivamente era un sueño

Al parecer noto que estabas despierta, porque lo primero que hizo antes de abrir los ojos fue sonreír, si sentía nervios no lo demostró, y es que cómo iba a hacerlo, el hombre es el comandante de uno de los cuerpos de policía más temidos por los narcos, era una piedra hecha hombre, aunque últimamente esa piedra se ha ablandado, pero no podría molestarte en lo más mínimo

-que pasa mí amor?¿qué es lo que te preocupa?-esconde su cabeza en tu cuello, su voz te hizo cosquillas en el cuello, extendiste tu mano a la parte de atrás de su cabeza y pasaste tus dedos por sus rizos los cuales estaban desordenados por la posición en la que se quedó dormido

-estoy un poco nerviosa eso es todo..-

-no deberías, quien debería estar nervioso soy yo, conocer no solo a tus padres sino también a toda tu familia…tu tranquila no te pasará nada, yo estaré contigo siempre, sosteniendo tu mano siempre, jamás me separé de ti otra vez, no lo soportaría-tomó tu mano que estaba todavía entrelazada con la suya y dejó un tierno beso en esta, te miro al ojos y lograste ver en ellos la seguridad y la confianza que necesitabas en ese momento

Tenían personalidades tan distintas, pero que se complementan tan bien, tenías una debilidad muy grande por sus ojos, podían decir tantas cosas sin utilizar palabras, pero sin duda su mayor atractivo eran sus brazos y en especial sus labios, tan suaves y deliciosos que eran adictivos

No resististe más y lo besaste con todas tus fuerzas, lo tomaste de la nuca y lo besaste como si tu vida dependiera de ello, él no se quedó atrás te tomó de ambos lados de tu cara y te beso con la misma intensidad que tu, la voz del capitán anunciando su aterrizaje los sacó del hermoso momento que estaban viviendo

Al separarse de ti te dio la más hermosa y brillante sonrisa que jamás hayas visto en tu vida, los nervios no se hicieron esperar, al momento de tomar tu maleta de mano y bajar del avión, tus manos comenzaron a sudar y temblar un poco, muchas cosas pasaron por tu cabeza en ese momento ¿que pasa si no lo aceptan? ¿Qué pasa si mi papá no lo quiere cerca de mi?

Tus manos dejaron de temblar en el momento en el que Horacio nuevamente entrelazó su mano, áspera y grande con la tuya que parecía pequeña y delicada, levantaste tu mirada y encontraste un par de ojos gentiles y una pequeña sonrisa cargada de una gentileza y un amor tan grande que era difícil no ceder ante esto

Resultó ser, que tus padres se tomaron tan bien la llegada de Horacio, que más tarde ese mismo día fueron los cuatro salieron a cenar a un restaurante bar, Horacio se veía hermoso, llevaba su camisa azul de rayas blancas y un pantalón color beige, con unos zapatos clásicos color marrón, mientras que tú llevabas un vestido de flores, con una pequeña apertura en la pierna derecha

La cena transcurrió sin precedentes, tus padres estaban sentados justo enfrente de ustedes dos, Horacio estaba justo sentado a tu lado derecho con una mano firmemente apoyada en tu pierna ligeramente expuesta por el vestido, tu padre conversaba animadamente con Horacio sobre su trabajo y cómo tomó la decisión de ingresar a la policía

Mientras que de vez en cuando, tu madre le hacía preguntas ocasionales sobre ustedes, ¿cómo se conocieron? E incluso preguntó si estaría dispuesto a dejar su trabajo para formar una familia, el hombre como siempre se mantuvo neutro y respondió cordialmente todas las preguntas que tus padres tenían

En un momento después de la cena, justo cuando sonaba la melodía de una de tus boleros favoritos, tomaste de la mano a tu pareja y lo arrastraste a la pista de baile, colocaste tus brazos alrededor de su cuello mientras los suyos tomaban lugar en tu cintura, te acercó lo máximo posible a su cuerpo y te mantuvo cerca todo el tiempo, balanceándose al compás de la música

Fue un momento tan mágico y único, que te hubiera gustado atesorar el resto de tu vida, conectaron sus miradas, sus ojos marrones brillaban y se reflejaban en ellos las tenues luces del lugar

-jamás pensé que viviría contigo esto, sigo creyendo que es un sueño…uno del cual no quiero despertar jamás-sonreíste tiernamente y cerraste tus ojos, descansando tu frente en la suya

-no es un sueño, porque de serlo no sería tan perfecto como lo es…-escuchaste su suave risa retumbar de lo más profundo de su pecho, y sin duda eres muy afortunada de escucharla, porque estás segura que muy pocas personas en su vida tienen la suerte de escuchar esa hermosa melodía

La noche pasó volando y justo cuando todo parecía ir bien tus pies decidieron comenzar a doler, en tu defensa, los tacones no son precisamente un elemento de tu cotidianidad, así que al pasar tanto tiempo sin usarlos y al bailar como nunca, pues esto trajo consecuencias

-te ayudo con eso mi amor?-

-cómo harías eso?-

-así…-sin más te levantó en sus fuertes brazos y te llevo al estilo nuncipal hasta el auto de tus padres, pareciera como si no fueras un peso para el, te sostiene tan fácilmente en sus brazos que pareciera que tu peso fuera igual que una pluma

-te he dicho lo mucho que te amo?-

-no, pero si sirve de algo, ya lo sabía-

-que modesto señor Carrillo-

-muy modesto…yo también te amo mi amor, mucho…y sin duda alguna esta fue la mejor noche de mi vida-

-igual que la mía mi amor, sin duda alguna eres lo mejor que me ha pasado en la vida-

Y si tal vez están en guerra, pero el amor no espera que sea el mejor momento, el amor llega a tu puerta cuando menos tu lo esperas, y sin duda alguna el amor espontáneo es el amor más real y bonito del mundo, tal vez el hombre de tu vida esté al mando del cuerpo élite de policía que tiene como objetivo dar captura a Pablo Escobar, mientras que tú estás en Cali luchando contra el reinado de corrupción que existe en esta parte del país, pero esto no es, no fue y no será un obstáculo para que ustedes puedan estar juntos…disfrutando de la paz y la tranquilidad que obtienen el uno del otro

@drabbles-mc @mauricecompterules-blog @massivecolorspygiant @acrossthesestars @adesertdaydream @girlpornparadise @narcosstan

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drabbles-mc · 1 year

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Tagging Along: A Tagging Out Christmas Special

OC Diego Ramírez x F!Reader

A fun filler episode in the greater Tagging Out universe! 🎄

Warnings: alcohol, little itty bitty bit of angst, language, smoking, holiday feels

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: Does this really have anything to do with the rest of the Tagging Out storyline?? Not at all! But I love Diego and wanted to write a Christmas fic with him and Reader so here we are. I have a lot more family content for the actual fic, but this opportunity for a fun little one-off was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Hope you enjoy!

Narcos/Diegoverse Taglist: @ashlingnarcos @narcolini @garbinge @nessamc @mysun-n-stars (If you want to be tagged in future Diegoverse fics please let me know!)

You knew that him making it back home before mass was going to be a long shot. He knew it too, which was why he’d brought his change of clothes with him to work that day. He swore up and down to you that even if he got stuck working late, he would find a way to leave and go to mass.

You’d laughed over coffee that morning as you told him, “If you miss it, it’s not me you’ll have to answer to.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile as he put his coffee mug in the sink. “There is a long list of things God is going to want me to answer for before we reach missing one midnight mass.”

“Your abuela will get you before God does.”

His eyes widened but he laughed. “That’s true. Don’t worry,” he walked over and kissed the side of your head, “I’ll be there.”

You called after him as he walked down the hall towards his bedroom to get changed, “If you’re not home in time, I’ll come back and pick you up! I’m not showing up without the family favorite.”

He came stumbling back down the hall shortly after, buttoning up the shirt of his fatigues. “Please don’t call me that in front of them.” He’d tried his best to sound annoyed but there was still a smile tugging at his lips.

You hummed in amusement. “I’m sure your brother will take care of that for me.”

Diego pulled his boots on, quickly lacing them up before disappearing back towards his room. When he reemerged again, he had a few articles of clothing draped over his arm. You smiled at the sight of his dress slacks. You could remember exactly one occasion when he wore them in all the time you’d known him. It was nice to see that he took it so seriously, for his grandmother if nothing else. Church hadn’t really been your thing in a long time but you knew that the invite to midnight mass for Christmas was a big deal. You respected that.

“I’m gonna head out.” He stuffed his wallet and keys into his pockets. “Come by and see me before you leave later?”

You nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Perfect.” He smiled as he leaned in and kissed you on the lips. “Drive safe.”

You reached up and cupped his cheek for a moment, your thumb brushing along where he’d just shaven the stubble away. “You too.”

When you’d stopped by his floor on your way out for the day, you knew the second that you got off the elevator that he wasn’t going to be leaving with you. He, Steve, and Javier were all up to their elbows in files and photographs. You just hoped it meant that they were getting somewhere.

Your heels clicked lightly against the floor as you walked up to his desk. The focus in the room was palpable. It must’ve been more intense than usual for none of them to notice someone walking into their section of the office.

After giving it a few seconds, you finally drummed your fingers on the edge of Diego's desk to get his attention. He whipped his head up, eyes wide, his expression only softening when he realized that it was you. He smiled, but you could see a bit of tiredness in it.

“Hey.”

You smiled. “Hey. How is,” you gestured vaguely to the papers on his desk, “everything?”

He sighed, dragging his hands down his face. “Spent most of the day trying to figure out the answer to that question.”

“Hmm,” you nodded, soaking up what he was saying. “So should I plan to come back and pick you up for mass, then?”

He gave an apologetic smile, not that he really had anything to be sorry for. “Probably.”

You chuckled softly as you reached across the desk and gave his hand the quickest, tiniest squeeze. “Call me if anything changes, okay?”

He nodded. “I will.”

The two of you exchanged a quick goodbye before you turned and started heading back towards the elevator. When you stepped inside and turned back around to face the expanse of the floor again, you saw that Diego was already buried back into his work. The other two members of his team, on the other hand, were both looking at you. You offered a weak smile as the doors were closing, not sure what else to do. It would take a Christmas miracle to bring you all back to a state of normalcy at this point.

The evening slipped away, and the phone in your apartment never rang. So you got yourself ready, picking out a simple but nice dress to wear before getting your hair and makeup in order. You pulled on a different pair of heels than the ones you’d worn to work before finally grabbing your keys and purse and heading out the door.

Now you were parking at the front of the lot, and you noticed that Diego's car wasn’t the only one still parked there. He wasn’t the only one working as late as possible on Christmas Eve. You cut the ignition of your car, opening the door so you could step out into the fresh night air. It was so different than Christmas back home, where you would be bundled up in boots and a parka to go with your hat and gloves. Not that you would be going to a Christmas Eve mass if you were back home to begin with, but still. It was different, but it was good.

Before you could get too lost in your thoughts, you saw the main door of the building swing open. You looked over, hoping and assuming it was Diego. Your stomach knotted when you saw that it was Javi. You couldn’t remember the last time the two of you had a conversation. As if your nerves for the night weren’t ramped up enough.

He was sparking up a cigarette as he crossed over into the parking lot. You knew that he saw you—you were the only person out at this hour. You wouldn’t put it past him to just walk right by you and to his car, though. You readied yourself for that.

When he stopped in front of you, you couldn’t hide your surprise. He exhaled a puff of smoke. “Choir boy is on his way down.”

You chuckled, still a little nervous but not as much as before. “Just because he goes to church on Christmas doesn’t mean he’s a choir boy, Javi.”

He looked you up and down. “Roped you into it?”

“I wasn’t roped, but yes, I’m going.” You paused. “Steve still here too?”

Javi shook his head. “We sent him home. He’s got the kid and Connie.”

You found yourself smiling at that. “That’s true.” You watched as he tapped ashes off the end of his cigarette. “No midnight mass for you?”

He laughed, the first real, positive thing you’d gotten out of him in months. “Not a chance.”

You wanted to ask if he at least had someone to spend the day with tomorrow. No one should have to spend the holidays alone, especially someone like Javi who was half a world away from everything and everyone he’d known. It wasn’t your place to ask, though. You knew that. Silently, you just hoped that he would spend it with Steve and Connie.

You both turned and looked when the door opened again. You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face at the sight of Diego in his crisp dress shirt and slacks. Javi took it as his cue to leave, not ready yet to be in a conversation with both of you at the same time.

“Don’t let the holy water burn you,” he joked as he snubbed out his cigarette with the bottom of his shoe.

You chuckled. “I’ll try not to.” You paused, knowing that this would’ve been the point when you hugged him goodbye if it had been a few months ago. But it wasn’t. “Merry Christmas, Javi.”

He nodded as he fished his keys from the pocket of his jacket. “Merry Christmas.”

By the time that Diego got to you, Javi was already in his car. The tension melted out of you the second that Diego's hand landed on your hip. He leaned in, kissing you softly on the lips as your hands came to rest on his shoulders.

Pulling his lips off of yours, he stepped back to look at you once more. “You look beautiful.”

You beamed, butterflies in your stomach like it was your first date all over again. “You don’t clean up so bad either.” You toyed with the top button of his shirt. “How far back did you have to dig in your closet to find this?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Completely forgot I had it.” He paused. “You still wanna go?”

You smiled. “Even if I didn’t, it’s a little too late to back out now, right?”

He shrugged, a lopsided grin on his face. “Maybe.”

“Come on,” you lightly patted his chest, “I’ll drive.”

There was a protest on the tip of his tongue but you were pulling the driver’s door and sliding in before he could voice it. He just chuckled and shook his head, deciding not to push his luck as he walked around to the other side of the car to get in.

You waited for him to buckle himself in before grabbing the small thermos of coffee that you’d made for him. Pulling it out of the cupholder, you handed it over to him. He gave you a relieved smile as he took it from you. He’d been more than ready to power through without it, but he wasn’t going to turn it down.

“Thank you.” He hardly got the words out before taking a sip. He looked over at you. “Sorry you had to come all the way back.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine.” You paused, drumming your fingers for a moment as you gauged whether or not you wanted to ask the question. “Rough day?”

He shrugged. “Long.” He took another sip of his coffee, not really looking at anything in particular.

Even from the brief glance you stole, you could tell by the look on his face that he was debating whether or not he wanted to tell you something. “What happened?”

He let out a small, quiet sigh. “Search Bloc came by.”

Your heart sank a little. “Real long day.”

He nodded. “Yea. But it’s done now, though.”

Maybe if the two of you had been heading back to his apartment instead of church with his family he’d want to talk about it. Maybe if it wasn’t Christmas Eve. Maybe if it wasn’t a harsh reminder of everything he'd been building himself back up from he’d have more energy to say something. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

You switched tracks of conversation as you got closer to your destination. “You’re sure she won’t mind that I’m tagging along?”

He smiled over at you, and suddenly the rest of it didn’t matter. “If I showed up without you at this point, she’d send me away to go and get you.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. “I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“When I stopped by a couple weeks ago to drop some things off for her, the first thing she asked was where you were.”

That was heart-warming—there was no denying that. It wasn’t as though she had ever put you in the position to feel like she didn’t like you—she didn’t seem the type to be like that with much of anyone. But there was still a small sense of victory in the fact that she asked about you when you weren’t around.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked after the lull in conversation had gone on for a bit.

The humor in his voice was audible as he said, “Shoot.”

“I’ve never been to a midnight mass before.”

He chuckled, and you could feel him looking at you. “Are you worried you’re going to catch on fire walking through the doors?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Nothing that dramatic, no.”

“Worried my abuela will be able to tell?” he asked with a small smirk after studying your face.

You glanced over at him for a moment. “She’ll know, won’t she?”

He laughed. “She won’t care. I’m her favorite and my church clothes were at the back of my closet, remember?”

“So you do admit that you’re the favorite,” you shot back with a tiny laugh.

His smile grew before he took another sip of coffee. He didn’t say anything though, just shaking his head at you instead. He set his mug of coffee back into the cupholder, reaching over and resting his hand on your shoulder instead. It was more obvious in such close quarters, but even across crowded rooms there was something about the way Diego looked at you that resulted in you feeling it every single time. The smile on your face stretched a little wider as you forced yourself to keep your eyes on the road.

When you rounded the street corner onto the block where the church was, your eyes popped wide open. There were so many cars, so many people all shuffling towards the church. It wasn’t like nights in Colombia were ever quiet, but this was a different type of busy. You hadn’t seen this before, hadn’t been expecting it.

“Holy shit,” you said quietly as you tried not to laugh in surprise.

“Something like that, yea,” Diego chuckled as he leaned forward in his seat, looking for a somewhat safe and decent place to park the car. He pointed down the block. “Might have to walk a little bit.”

You laughed, nodding. “Apparently.”

The church was packed. For a brief moment the thought crossed your mind that you wouldn’t be able to find Diego’s family in the ocean of people packing themselves into the pews. Without even thinking about it, you reached out and grabbed onto Diego’s hand, determined not to lose him in the shuffle. He gave you a light squeeze, tugging you in the opposite direction that you were heading. You turned to look where he was pulling you, and relief washed over you when you caught sight of Diego’s brother first, then the rest of his family.

The two of you somehow managed to weasel your way through all of the people and land next to his family. You chuckled quietly to yourself at how enthusiastically Diego’s grandmother slid past the other members of their family who were already sitting in the pew so that she could hug him. You were beaming at the whole interaction, the way that she greeted him to enthusiastically as though she hadn’t seen him the week before. He took it in stride, and you knew that he enjoyed it more than he would probably admit to.

Then her attention was on you, all warm smiles as she pulled you in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek as well. She held lightly onto both of your arms as she looked you up and down. She’d only ever seen you dressed down for casual afternoons and dinners at her house. This was a whole new look on you, and you were still uncertain if you had picked the right outfit for the occasion. It’d been too long since the last time you crossed the threshold of a church.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said simply with a nod and a smile.

You relaxed, knowing that she meant every word. “Me too.”

Neither you nor Diego had time to really greet the rest of his family as a hush fell over the church and mass started. Growing up you’d been to church. Your family wasn’t the type to show up every Sunday per se, but you went often enough. It was different here, but you were still able to keep up alright. You made quick work of translating the few prayers you still had committed to memory, but the rest of it felt like you were hearing it all for the first time. It was beautiful. The energy in the room was unlike anything else. All those mornings standing, sitting, kneeling in pews back home didn’t feel quite like this. It was the holiday, and the time, and the company. It was all different, but it was all good.

You were so wrapped up in all of it, that you didn’t realize how quickly the service flew by. That wasn’t typically a feeling that you had when you went in the past. It was a welcome change. You completely understood Diego’s family’s adherence to the tradition. Like Diego said—he hadn’t worn his church clothes probably since last Christmas, maybe Easter, but he still made a point to show up. He could put the blame on his abuela’s strictness all he wanted, but you could see the shift in him as he stood next to you. There was something there. It was there because of all the work his grandmother put into raising him, no doubt, but still. It sent a fresh wave of warmth through your chest.

When the service was over, and everyone started to make their way out of the church, you noticed that Diego’s family was in no great rush to leave. His sister had one very sleepy child propped on her hip, one standing leaning against her husband’s leg halfway to falling asleep as well. But no one left yet. It was the first chance all night that the rest of his family actually got to talk to the two of you. Diego easily draped his arm over your shoulders as you all stood there talking, and you leaned into him as you spoke, catching everyone up on what little had changed in your lives since the last time you saw them.

“Every year,” Diego’s brother said with a laugh, “I wait for Diego to catch fire when he walks through the doors for midnight mass.”

You were trying to stifle your laughter as their abuela swatted his chest. “Stop that, mijo.” She shook her head. “You know better.”

He pulled their grandmother into a hug, and you could see that she was trying hard not to break her annoyed façade. He kissed the top of her head. “C’mon, ‘buela. I love him. Ya tu sabes.” He flashed a cheesy grin and for a split second he and Diego could’ve been twins instead of brothers. “Me quieres.”

She gently patted the spot on his chest where she had swatted him only seconds before. “Te quiero.” She paused, pointing a finger at him accusingly. “But you’re lucky it’s Christmas and that we’re in—”

All three of the siblings finished the sentence in near-perfect unison, “La casa de díos.”

You had to laugh at that. “Sounds like you’ve all heard that one before.”

“Yea,” Lía spoke up as she adjusted the hold she had on her daughter, “because every year one of these two acts up during mass. Diego was only on his best behavior this year because you’re here.” She had to laugh at her brothers.

“In our defense,” Diego spoke up, “it was never during mass.”

“Yea,” his brother joked, “because we knew that we’d get our asses beat when we get home.”

“Basta!” both Lía and their grandmother admonished him in unison.

Diego leaned down, pretending to whisper in your ear even though everyone could easily hear him. “As you can see, it usually wasn’t me causing the problems.”

Lía shook her head at both of them before looking back to you again. “Sorry for them. I’d leave them home every year if abuela would let me.”

“But I won’t,” she spoke up, a proud smile on her face. She looked around, and once she saw that most of the crowd had dissipated, she motioned towards the door. “Let’s go. The kids are exhausted.”

“The kids?” Diego joked, “What about the rest of us?”

She simply shook her head at him once again before shooing him towards the end of the pew. Diego followed the wordless direction without a fight, stepping and effectively putting you between him and his grandmother as you all shuffled towards the main aisle of the church.

When you were all on the front steps of the church, Diego pulled you close again. You looked over at him but you saw that he was already back in a conversation with his sister, the action so second-nature to him now that he didn’t even realize that he was doing it. You looped your arm around his waist and tuned into what they were talking about.

“We’re all staying over for the night and doing breakfast in the morning,” she said with a smile, “so if you guys want to come by tomorrow, you can. I’m sure she’s going to have plenty of food.”

The idea of spending Christmas Day with the rest of Diego’s family was nice. You were sure that all of the cousins and aunts and uncles would be there too even if they weren’t with you tonight. For the last few weeks you’d been battling it out with homesickness, and maybe spending time with his whole family and all of the antics that they caused would soothe that a bit.

“That sounds nice,” you chimed in with a nod before glancing up at Diego. “What do you think?”

He beamed at you. It hadn’t been something that he was going to try and talk you into, but if you wanted to go, he certainly wasn’t going to tell you no. “I think it sounds like a plan.”

The cheer was impossible to miss in his grandmother’s voice as she said, “Perfect!” She pulled each of you back in for a hug and a kiss before finally getting around to saying goodbye. She patted Diego's arm gently. “Cuidate, mijo. Hasta mañana.”

He gave her a warm smile and a nod. “Hasta mañana.”

The goodbyes you both exchanged with his siblings were much quicker, knowing that there were only a few hours to go until you’d all be together again. You watched on in adoration as Diego pressed kisses to the foreheads of his very sleepy nieces. No doubt they wouldn’t be nearly as tired tomorrow when the Christmas festivities that didn’t involve sitting in a pew were in full swing. You had to admit, though , the two girls did very well during mass. Better than you would’ve at their age.

You found yourself glued back to Diego’s side as the two of you watched the entire entourage head down the street in the opposite direction from where you were parked to get to their own cars. You could feel it as Diego’s body started to relax against yours, like his body knew that the day was finally starting to wind down.

“What do you think?” you asked as you looked at him. “Ready to go?”

He pulled you in the direction of your car. “Yes, please.”

You laughed as the two of you started the trek back to your car. Even through the fabric of your dress, you felt the way his fingers traced along your skin. You soaked it up without comment as the two of you strolled, taking in the sight of all the lights and decorations as you walked. It reminded you enough of home to bring you comfort, even if things weren’t exactly the same.

“My place?” you asked as you unlocked the car.

Diego nodded as he pulled his door open. “I’d like that.”

You were both buckling in when you said, “And we can grab your car on our way back from your abuela's tomorrow?”

He leaned back so his head was against the headrest, eyes already halfway to closing. There was still a smile on his face though as he told you, “That works.”

You were expecting to hear him snoring before you reached your apartment building, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t have been fully awake, but he wasn’t passed out either. You stole glances over at him while you drove, smiling to yourself each time. Even in his sleepy daze he still reached over to keep his hand on your leg while you drove.

Even while you were unlocking the door to your apartment, it was hard to believe that he wasn’t asleep. He stood behind you while you dug around your purse for your keys. His arms were draped around your waist, his chin hooked over your shoulder. You wouldn’t mind standing like that for a while, but you knew the long day he’d had.

Diego maneuvered through your apartment with relative ease despite the fact that the two of you spent a vast majority of time over at his place. Your place was bigger, nicer, but when you and Diego first started seeing each other, you always opted to go over to his place just so that the past wouldn’t be lingering around so much. His tiny little apartment was a clean slate in a way yours wouldn’t be. The two of you were far past that now, but the routine of staying at his place never went away. You didn’t mind it.

You were putting your dress back up on its hanger when Diego walked into your bedroom. You chuckled at the way he was peeling clothes off as he walked through your room and around to his side of the bed. He always left a trail of clothes in his wake no matter where he was. Every time it got a chuckle out of you. It was a habit that would drive you nuts if part of his morning routine wasn’t gathering them all up again.

“Tell me about Christmas Day with your family,” you said in a whisper as you both laid under the covers together.

His eyes were closed but he smiled and let out a quiet hum of approval at your request. “It’s loud,” he murmured with a laugh. He listened to the way you giggled softly at that before pulling you a little closer and continuing. “Lía and Carlos pretty much always stay over with the girls. Roberto doesn’t, but he always comes over first thing for breakfast. Sometimes my aunts and uncles make it that early, other times they don’t. Then usually we wait until the rest of the cousins and the kids get there before doing presents. Then it’s all hands on deck for more cooking. The rest of the day is pretty much just the kids playing, and the adults supervising. Abuela never stops moving until everyone leaves at the end of the day.”

“What about you?” you asked, “Do you usually stay over with your sister and the kids?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Did I break tradition by dragging you back to my place?”

He huffed out a laugh before kissing you on the forehead. “You’re fine. They’re glad I have other places to be. Besides,” he gave you a light squeeze, “it means I won’t be in the kitchen while Lía and abuela are trying to make breakfast.”

You laughed. “Least I’m doing them a favor.” You paused as you thought about everything he just said. “That sounds nice.”

His voice was raspy, and you knew he was going to fall asleep soon. Still, though, he asked, “What about your family?”

A sad smile crept across your face, homesickness settling over you again. You took advantage of his exhaustion and said, “I’ll tell you about it in the morning. Get some sleep.”

He didn’t argue, instead just silently pulling you closer so that your head was tucked against his chest. He wrapped his body around yours like a coil before finally succumbing to sleep. You smiled as you rested against him, heart a little lighter as warmth from his skin bled over into yours.

When you woke up the next morning, you woke to the sound of your bedroom door creaming open. Sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you looked over to see Diego walking in with two mugs of coffee. He looked awfully awake and alert for someone who had had such a long day and night before.

“Merry Christmas,” he said with a smile as he handed you one of the mugs.

You laughed, still sleepy as you accepted it and took a sip. “Merry Christmas.”

The two of you weren’t in any great hurry as you finished your coffees and slowly started getting dressed and ready for the day. You based your outfit off of Diego’s, not wanting to over or under dress. He didn’t dress as nicely as he had for mass the night before, but he still cleaned up a little more than when the two of you would go over to hang out on the weekend. You picked a more casual dress, something nice but not over the top. You tried to ignore Diego's spectating as you did your hair and makeup, knowing that it was the only way you’d be able to stay at all focused.

“Can we make one stop on the way?” he asked as the two of you made your way down the steps of your apartment building.

You nodded. “Of course.”

You had to laugh when the one stop turned out to be the liquor store. He came back out with a few bottles ranging from whiskey to white wine. He shrugged as he set the bags on the floor by his feet. “Easiest way to shop for all the grown-ups.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “You guys are something else.”

“Don’t worry,” he said with a laugh, “we all share.”

You looked over at him as you continued down the road, unable to wipe the grin off your face. “That what you meant by supervising then?”

He laughed again. “Someone's gotta do it.”

When you got to his grandmother’s house, you quickly realized that you weren’t the first ones to arrive. You weren’t late, but you weren’t first. There were already a few cars parked out front. You pulled up behind one and threw your car in park. Once you cut the ignition, you looked over at Diego and smiled as you watched him looking through the bags by his feet.

“You get stuff for the kids too?” you said, half-joking.

His reply came effortlessly. “Dropped their stuff off a couple weeks ago.”

You couldn’t stop yourself as you reached over and rested your hand against his back. You waited for him to look at you before saying, “Thank you.”

He shook his head, a smile on his face. “Nothing to thank me for.”

You nodded towards the house, and you could’ve sworn that you could already feel the energy and warmth radiating off of it. “Thank you for letting me be part of this.”

He leaned over the console and kissed you on the lips. “Of course you’re part of this—it’s family.” He pulled on the handle and pushed the door open with his foot, getting out of the car without another word.

You sat still for a moment and soaked up the weight of what he’d said, and the way that he had said it so effortlessly. It only took a second for a wide smile to break out across your face before you got out of the car as well.

The two of you walked up to the front door of the house, Diego’s arms full from the bags of bottles he was carrying. You were laughing and shaking your head at him as you reached to open the door for him. Before your hand even wrapped around the handle, though, you could hear the laughter and the music coming from inside. You weren’t even across the threshold yet, but as you listened and looked at Diego, you couldn’t help but think that for the first time in a long time, you felt like you’d finally come home for the holidays.

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