soloufi
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Summary
Lalo seems as unperturbed as ever, spidery shadows twitching on his cheeks, when his eyes move behind his closed lids.
He’s still just mouthing along to the lyrics, his whole profile illuminated by the sun, every pore, wrinkle and hair follicle made visible, an effect only exacerbated by the slight sheen of sweat on his skin.
Unwittingly, Nacho’s reminded of that documentary on deep-sea life Jo and Amber had running in the background yesterday while they were high out of their mind. Of the anglerfish dangling a light in front of unsuspecting fish. Look at me, it screams. Dig your teeth in, gorge yourself. But just when you think yourself safe, when you get too close – a snap of teeth and you’re over. Done for.
Nacho is that fish. Perhaps even stupider, considering he knows exactly what he’s facing.
(AU in which soulmates can only speak the truth to one another, and Nacho's already crappy situation takes a turn for the worse when he's confronted with a sudden inability to lie to Lalo.)
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“Take me home.” Lalo says without opening his eyes. It’s strange, being able to look at Lalo without being looked at, without being caught.
Nacho drums his fingers on the wheel. “The safe house?”
“Your home, Ignacio. I need your big ridiculous bed. And your shower. With all the jets.”
Bookmarked by soloufi
05 Jun 2026
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Nacho stares at Lalo’s outstretched hand: the hanging brown blunt, red hot tip smoking in the desert wind. He hesitates, then meets Lalo’s eyes, searching for the angle; for what he’s expected to do here.
Lalo’s arm wilts slightly. “You’re off the clock, ok?”
Bookmarked by soloufi
04 Jun 2026
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Nacho thinks about the peasants somewhere at the crest of South America; smiling peasant families digging their hands into the dirt, planting coca plants in little green rows. Planting and toiling under the gunfire and smoke, so that some distant gringo lawyer can snort his second wind off a bathroom sink; so a college kid can get a better lay. So that he can sit here, in his big house, having dinner with his asshole boss, and feel like shit.
Bookmarked by soloufi
24 May 2026
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“Bleeding heart, eh? I see big things for you, Ignacio. But you have to detach a little. You’ll wear yourself out caring so much.” With that, Lalo slaps his shoulder and turns away, going back to work.
The point of contact seems to burn and Nacho thinks: You should’ve seen who I used to be. You would’ve liked that version of me. Before your family did this to me.
Bookmarked by soloufi
23 May 2026