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drabbles-mc · 2 years

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Just Like Always (Part 2)

Horacio Carrillo x F!Reader

Sequel to Just Like Always and inspired by day 22 of the August Prompts: wanderlust

Warnings: 18+ af, alcohol, language, angst, yearning, unprotected sex, we really got it all here today folks

Word Count: 4.7k (don’t look at me)

A/N: Listen going into this I didn’t expect all of this to happen lmao. I wasn’t even sure if I was going to write a follow-up to Just Like Always. I also thought I was never going to write smut again 😂 Sorry in advance if it’s rusty, but it’s been about a thousand years since I’ve written it. Of course Carrillo is the one dragging me out of the drought lmao. Hope y’all enjoy!

Narcos Taglist: @thesandbeneathmytoes @garbinge @bruxasolta @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @alm0501 @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @buckybarneshairpullingkink @boomclapxox @nessamc @southotheborder @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @bport76 @marrianena @ashlingnarcos @passionatewrites @narcolini (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

You did make good on your promise to make sure that you got to see Horacio again before you took off. You didn't have too long in Colombia, but you also had a pretty open schedule. So, after a little bit of phone-tag, you found yourself making your way to Horacio's house. You had to admit that you were curious to see what kind of place he'd chosen. It was the same neighborhood as his parents, so you knew it had to be relatively nice, but the last time you saw Horacio, you were both pretty much still children– buying a house wasn't that high on his priority list let alone decorating one. It was difficult to picture him living in a typical bachelor pad, but you also couldn't really see him filling a house with decor and knickknacks either.

All of those little inconsequential thoughts were milling around your brain as you pulled into the driveway of the address that he'd given you. The light above the door was on, and even though it wasn't too dark yet you could still easily see the warm lights in the windows as well.

Taking a deep breath, you cut the ignition on the car and undid your seat belt. You had butterflies in your stomach, as though this was a first date and not dinner with someone you had known for more of your life than not. Shaking your head at yourself, you opened the car door, grabbing the bottle of wine that you'd picked up for the occasion. Although in the spirit of honesty you weren't quite sure what the occasion was. It was dinner with an old friend, but dinners with old friends didn't usually give you jittery hands and warm cheeks.

Walking up to the front door, you tried to get your thoughts in order. You knocked a couple times and waited for the response from the other side, anxiously picking at the label on the wine bottle for the few seconds between your knock and the sound of Horacio unlocking the door.

He pulled the door open, and both of you took a beat to really look at each other. He looked so comfortable, casual even, which was not a word one would typically use to describe Horacio Carrillo. But as he stood there in just a plain, grey crewneck t-shirt and jeans, there was no other way that you would be able to describe him. It was a far cry from the CNP uniform that most people saw him in. This version felt more like the Horacio you knew when you were younger.

He smiled, just as much at the sight of you as at the way you were looking at him. Opening the door a little wider, he greeted you with a hug and motioned for you to come inside. As you did, you couldn’t miss the wave of warmth and the delicious smell of whatever he’d been working on for dinner. Whatever tension was left in you started melting away as you followed him towards the kitchen.

You were snooping around the stove and the oven, trying to see what he was pulling together for the two of you. He chuckled softly, shaking his head at you even though you weren’t currently looking at him. He gave you another second to look before clearing his throat to get your attention. You looked over at him, face warming from embarrassment when you saw the amused look on his face.

He gestured towards the bottle in your hand, “I’ll open it for you.”

You gladly handed it over, making yourself comfortable by taking a seat at the counter. You rested your chin in the palm of your hand, watching as he uncorked the wine bottle with ease. He opened the cabinet, grabbing a pair of wine glasses and pouring a good amount into each one. Your smile grew as he handed you the glass, and you lightly clinked yours against his before taking a sip.

The two of you picked up an easy conversation as he asked you what you had been up to in the days since he last saw you. Most of your time had been spent visiting family and friends that you hadn’t seen since you left. Your partying days were a long way behind you now, so there were no wild stories to report. You still rambled on about all of it though. The energy felt different from the last time you met up, a little more intimate solely because of the setting. You tried not to overthink it too much, but it was hard not to. It was interesting, really, seeing him going about his life in a way you never really saw before, all while chatting aimlessly to him about people you hadn’t seen in years but he probably saw every week.

In between stories, you offered to lend a helping hand, but he waved you off each time. You expected as much, because that’s just the type of man that he was, but you still wanted to offer to help. He let you at least bring the bottle of wine to the table, and you took advantage of the opportunity by topping off both of your glasses while he brought everything else over.

“You know,” you spoke up when the two of you hit a natural lull in the conversation during dinner, “I know I’m very good at talking,” you chuckled, “But you still haven’t said anything about what you’ve been up to since I left. I’m assuming that you’ve done more than learn how to cook,” you shot him a smile from across the small table in his kitchen.

One end of his mouth started to curl up into a tiny smirk as he shook his head, “Learning to cook was very time consuming.”

You laughed and shook your head, “I’m serious, Horacio.”

His expression sobered up a little bit as his gaze dropped down to the plate in front of him. He stalled, pushing what little food was left on his plate around with his fork. It was the first time all night that he seemed anything less than comfortable, “Everything I’ve done, I’m sure you’ve heard about from someone else, or seen plastered as headlines somewhere.”

You paused, wanting to choose your next words carefully, “I know…I know some of what the last few years have been like for you. And you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But also,” you paused and waited for him to look at you, “you’re much more than all of that. And besides,” you let your tone lighten a little, “I was gone long before all of that started. So you’ve got quite a few years to fill me in on.”

It was true. You left when you were both still so young. You’d each lived entire lives between then and now, but you could easily see how that would be difficult for him to remember when his whole world for so long revolved around one man, one mission. There was more to him than that, though. You remembered that even if he didn’t.

He stood up, gathering the plates from the table as he spoke, “You were always the adventurous one, querida.”

You chuckled, standing up after him and grabbing the bottle of wine and glasses from the table as you followed his footsteps, “If I remember correctly, I was never going on those adventures alone.”

That got a quiet laugh out of him as he rinsed the plates in the sink, “That’s why your parents never trusted me.”

“If it makes you feel better,” you leaned back against the counter next to the sink, watching him while you sipped on your wine, “they didn’t trust me either.”

He cast a glance over at you, a sense of ease pushing away the tension that had been creeping back into his mind. The knee-jerk reaction to put his guard up was a tough habit to break, even with you. But as he watched you standing so comfortably in his home, smiling over the brim of your wine glass, it was hard not to feel good. Something about you made him turn back into a version of himself he’d nearly forgotten about—happier, more vulnerable. He wondered if things had been different, if he could’ve felt like this the whole time, with you.

“Come on,” you grabbed the bottle of wine off the counter, “help me finish this.”

He smiled, shutting off the water and drying his hands. He watched as you emptied what was left of the bottle into each of your glasses. Setting the bottle to the side, you handed him his glass and waited to see what his next move was going to be. He thought about it for a moment too, taking a sip from the glass in his hand to buy him an extra couple of seconds.

You followed him as he walked to his living room. He sat down on the couch and was about to motion for you to do the same but you were too busy looking at everything that was in his living room. There were a few picture frames hanging on the walls, all ones of his family. You sipped on your wine as you took in the snapshots of the evolution of the man you left so long ago to the man who was sitting behind you now. You brought your hand up, tempted to pluck the frame off the wall to get a closer look at the photo within it, but you didn’t.

“From when you finished the academy?” you asked, fairly certain of the answer.

“Yes,” he stood up, making his way over to you, “Feels like a different lifetime.”

You shrugged, glancing back over your shoulder, “It kind of was, wasn’t it?” you returned your gaze to the photos, trying not to get distracted by how close he was standing to you, “Everything’s so different now.”

“Everything?” the tinge of emotion in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by you.

You hummed in thought as you turned around to face him, your lips lifting into a small smile, “Maybe not everything.”

The two of you stood there, so close that you felt like it would’ve made more sense to just fall into him, let him hold you. Your breaths were slow, calculated, but still unsteady as his eyes stayed trained on yours. You tightened your grip on the wine glass, hoping that it would keep you from impulsively reaching out to touch him. For a moment it crossed your mind that perhaps you’d had a glass too many, but it was too late to go back on it now.

It was impossible for him to take his eyes off of you. Your eyes were glassy from the alcohol, one of the things about you that clearly hadn’t changed. He wondered what it was that you were thinking, because he could see the gears turning in your mind. There was a time when he would always know just by looking at you. It was a skill that he hadn’t been able to practice in a long time since you’d been gone—he was rusty.

“When you left,” he broke the silence, but the tension was still thick in the air between you, “there was a moment when I wondered if I should’ve left with you.”

That caught you off-guard. He had never tried to stop you from leaving, not really. He wasn’t thrilled about it, because the two of you were a couple of teenagers in love so of course he didn’t want you to go. But he had never tried to really stop you, never tried to guilt you. He had also never expressed a desire to go with you. It had always existed as a heartbreaking truth between the two of you that one day you were going to leave, and he was going to stay. You never thought that there was any other way that it would play out.

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, your voice softer than you meant for it to be.

“My life was here,” he paused, “Still is.”

You smiled, but there was a hint of sadness to it, “Your life could’ve been anywhere. It still could be.”

He shook his head, giving his own emotional smile in return, “This is where I’m supposed to be.”

“How do you know?”

“I just…do. The same way you know that you’re not meant to stay. You feel it.”

You took a deep breath, “There is just…so much out there that you would love, Horacio. I wish you could see it all.”

He wanted to say that at one point, he’d had all the love he would ever need right there in Medellín, before it up and left. But he didn’t say it—it felt selfish, and childish.

“Maybe one day I will,” the smile he gave you was a little more genuine.

“When you finally give yourself a break?” you joked.

He laughed softly, “Exactly.”

The two of you were still standing incredibly close. You could smell the wine on his breath, and if you didn’t know better you’d say that you were getting drunk off of that rather than the wine filling the glass still in your hand.

“Did you ever miss it?” he asked, making a small gesture towards the window of his living room, “Medellín?” he paused, thinking over his choice of words, “Home?”

“I missed my family,” your smile was warm as you placed your hand on his chest, “I missed you. And I did,” you gave a slow nod, “I did miss home.”

His gaze flickered back and forth between your eyes and your hand on his chest, “Why didn’t you come back before?”

You drummed your fingers against his chest, “Wasn’t ready. Didn’t, um,” you laughed quietly, “didn’t feel it, as you would say.”

He laughed and shook his head at the way you repeated his words back to him, “Don’t say it like that.”

“What?” you laughed, “Did I not say it right?”

He rolled his eyes but there was still a smile on his face, “Never mind,” whatever weight had been building inside his chest slowly lightening at the sound of your laugh and the warmth seeping from your palm into his chest.

“It’s been better than I thought, though,” you confessed, “Being home, I mean.”

“Yea?”

You shrugged, smiling, “Yea.”

“Better enough for you to stay?”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “Horacio—”

“Just a question, querida,” he smiled.

“Maybe I’ll stay an extra week,” you looked at your hand that was resting against his chest, watching as it rose and fell with each breath he took, “see if I can’t convince you to leave with me.”

He smiled and let out a slow, deep breath, allowing himself to lean in and rest his forehead against yours. You made the idea sound so enticing, he wondered that if you stayed a little longer if he really would leave with you. You could feel his heart beating faster against your palm, and you let it linger on his chest for a moment longer before moving your hand so that it was resting on his cheek. You brushed your thumb along his cheekbone, your smile widening as he leaned into your touch. It all felt so familiar, but not quite exactly the same as it used to.

You tilted your head slightly, letting your lips brush against his for the briefest moment before pulling away again. You weren’t sure what you were expecting next, but you braced yourself for any of it. He hesitated for a moment, pulling back to look at you, like he was trying to figure out if you meant to.

He might not have had you memorized as well as he used to, but he knew that look in your eyes even after so many years apart. He saw the way your lips curled into a smile as you waited, body frozen with anticipation. Leaning in, he kissed you again, giving a little more intensity than you had.

You melted into it, tasting the wine off of his lips and tongue. You heard the sound of his glass clinking on the table and it was only a few seconds later that he was taking the glass from you and setting it aside as well, not pausing your kiss as he did so.

With both of your hands free you cupped each side of his face and pulled yourself as close to him as you could. His arms snaked around your waist, one hand resting in the small of your back as the other crept up between your shoulder blades, keeping your chest pressed tightly against his.

He kissed you like he was trying to make up for all the years of not being able to do so. You missed it more than you’d realized, the way he’d cling to you and hold you as tightly as he could. He was so strong now, arms enveloping you so completely. Despite all the time that had gone by, all the ways that the two of you had grown and changed, you could still feel all the love he had in him.

Breaking the kiss, you pulled back, completely out of breath. You kept your hands on the sides of his face, studying the expression he was wearing as you tried to figure out what was going to happen next.

“I missed you,” it was a quiet admission, but he held your gaze as he said it.

“Yea,” you said, still a little breathless, “I missed you too.”

Reaching up, he covered your hands with his own for a moment before pulling them down so that they were resting on his shoulders, the tips of your fingers still on the sides of his neck. He reached forward, one hand snaking behind to cradle the back of your head as he pulled you into another kiss. It was slower, his tongue moving languidly over yours as he pulled your chest flush against his again.

There was something about the way that his body tangled with yours that made everything else completely fade away. He pulled you with him, lips still locked onto yours, and you trusted him blindly. You didn’t disconnect your lips from his until he pulled you down onto the couch with him, causing you to laugh as you collapsed in his lap. There was a smile on his face too as he watched you situate yourself so that you were straddling him. Your hands were resting on his chest, feeling each time his heart nearly beat right out of its confines, feeling each deep inhale and exhale as he tried to catch his breath through the quiet laughter the two of you shared.

A few moments went by before he pulled you in for another kiss. You instantly melted into him, reveling in the way that your body melded perfectly against his. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling as you kissed him, feeling like a couple of kids sneaking around late at night all over again. His hands snaked up underneath the fabric of your shirt, fingertips trailing over the skin of your back before sliding back down and pulling your hips closer, flush against his.

Your hands took on a life of their own as they slid down, reaching for the bottom hem of his t-shirt and pulling it up to slide it off of him. He broke the kiss just long enough to yank the fabric over his head and toss it away, huffing out half of a laugh before you cut him off again by pressing your lips back to his. Your fingers trailed down his chest and over his stomach, feeling the shiver his body let out despite the heat radiating off of his skin.

There was no hesitation in his movements as his fingers quickly and expertly began undoing the buttons of your top. Once the last one came undone, he wasted no time in pushing the fabric down and off your shoulders, hands immediately sliding back up your sides and behind your back. His fingertips and palms were rough, calloused against your skin in a way they weren’t before, but it felt good. He reached and undid the clasp of your bra, pulling the straps down off of your shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. Your breathing shuddered as his hands roamed over all of the newly exposed skin he had access to.

His arms tightened around you, pulling you tight to him before moving both of you and laying you down on your back on the couch. You looked up at him, the starstruck expression on your face making his heart skip a beat inside his chest. He never thought that anyone would look at him like that again, let alone you. You smiled, pulling him back down into another kiss. He rolled his hips against yours and you couldn’t stop yourself as you moaned into his mouth. He repeated the action, earning the same response.

He pulled away from you and you almost whined. You propped yourself up on your elbows but before you could ask, you felt him making quick work of the button and zipper of your shorts. You smiled, biting down on your lip as you lifted your hips up, allowing him to slide your shorts and underwear off with ease and cast them aside onto the floor. He positioned himself back over you, lips immediately covering your chest in kisses as his hand trailed down between your legs. Your fingers instinctively tangled themselves into his hair, body arching into his touch.

He brought his lips back up to yours, kissing you hard on the lips as he slowly slid his fingers into you. Your grip on his hair tightened as you tried to pull him closer to you, as if that was even possible to do. He began to pump his fingers inside of you, making you break your kiss as you moaned his name. Your eyes fluttered shut as your hands slid, nails raking down his chest as you got wrapped up in the pleasure that was coursing through your entire body.

He kissed along your lips, neck, and chest before pulling away from you, sliding his fingers out of you despite the fact that you were already so close to release. The whimper that came out of you was nothing short of desperate but you didn’t even care. Lifting your head from the cushion beneath you, you looked to see what he was doing. Any frustration you’d felt instantly disappeared at the sight of him pushing his jeans and boxers to the floor and stepping out of the fabric that had pooled at his ankles.

In the blink of an eye he was back on top of you, lips crashing into yours as he pulled your legs so that they were wrapped around his waist. He ground his hips against you and you cursed in ecstasy at the sensation, letting your forehead press into the crook of his neck for a moment as you soaked up the sensation of nearly having him inside of you.

He gently but firmly grabbed the side of your face, pulling himself away from you so that he could look you in the eyes. He kissed you softly on the lips, searching your face for any sign of regrets or second-guesses.

“You’re alright?”

You nodded, smiling as your breathing came out in pants, “I’m alright,” you could see him trying to put the right words together so you did it for him. Reaching up, you dragged the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip, “I want this, Horacio.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Leaning in, he kissed you hard on the lips as he slowly pushed himself inside of you. The moan he let out as he settled into you was sinful, your legs looping tighter around him to pull him closer just to be able to hear it again.

His forearms were braced on either side of your head, caging you in as you ran your hands up his chest and over his shoulders. Your fingers spread across the top of his back, nails digging in slightly as he began to thrust into you.

He didn’t stop kissing you. Whether it was your lips, your jaw, or your neck, he was constantly pressing his lips to your skin as he picked up his rhythm. You were putty beneath him, legs locking around him as tightly as you could just to keep him close to you, your nails anchoring you to him, keeping your chest pressed flush to his.

Detaching his lips from yours, he panted, “Fuck, querida,” his hand cupped the side of your face for a moment before sliding down to your chest, caressing your breasts and further adding to all the pleasurable sensations he was already sending through you.

You moaned as the pace of his thrusts grew faster, harder. You knew that you were only moments away from coming undone around him. You tried to put the words together to tell him but all that came out was a breathless whimper of his name as he sent you over the edge into bliss. Despite the shakiness in your limbs, you still pulled him down to kiss you, feeling the urgency in his movements grow as he got closer to his own release.

The quiet string of curse words mixed with praise that he uttered as he came inside you was enough to send a shiver throughout your whole body. He rested his body carefully against yours, still inside you as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck while he fought to catch his breath. He could feel your erratic breathing as you gently wound your arms around him, trailing your fingers through his hair as you both waited for your minds to clear. Your eyes drifted shut but you smiled at the sensation of each soft kiss he was placing along your shoulder and neck.

“Horacio?” you spoke softly.

He lifted his head, looking down at you with a blissfully dazed look on his face, “Mm?”

You stroked your fingers down his cheek, before pulling him into a soft, lazy kiss. You wanted to have something to say, but you just had to hope that that would be enough. Judging by the smile on his face, and the way that his hands were gently running up and down your sides, it said everything you needed it to.

“Stay here,” he kissed you quickly before unhooking your legs from around him and carefully pulling out of you, “I’ll grab you a towel.”

You chuckled, softly as you watched him grab his boxers and shirt from the floor, pulling the items on haphazardly as he set off in search of the towel, “Always the gentleman.”

He laughed when he reappeared with the towel, handing it to you before grabbing your underwear off the floor for you, “If I was a gentleman, we wouldn’t have done this on the couch.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you slid your own underwear back on, “Couch works just fine, Horacio,” you scooped your shirt and bra from the floor.

“Do you want to stay?” he paused before clarifying, “For the night, I mean.”

You couldn’t deny that that sounded like a wonderful idea. You nodded, “Yea, I’d really love to not have to try to sneak back into my parents’ house.”

“See?” he flashed you a smile, “Not everything is different.”

You smiled, “You win that one.”

He held his hand out to you to help you off the couch, “Come,” he pulled you towards he stairs, “I’ll find you something to sleep in.”

The two of you were tucked comfortably in his bed, the room completely dark as you snuggled against his side. He had one arm wrapped around your waist, the other tucked behind his head as he let his eyes rest shut. You were far from sleeping, though, as you traced patterns lazily across his chest.

“What if you just took one trip with me?” you asked.

He chuckled, “Just one?”

“Yea, just like, a vacation. You’ve gotta be overdue for one of those, right?”

He hummed in amusement as he leaned and kissed the top of your head, “A vacation sounds good, querida.”

“You’ll think about it?” you knew he was probably mostly joking, but it still didn’t hurt to try.

“I’ll think about it.”

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