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Nacho stared at the Javelin, the teeth of its keys stabbing into his palm, the pain sweet. Glints of morning light swam across the car's glossy surface. As he gazed at it, killing time by the minute, he wondered if it would ever end.
It lingered.
The coiled tension that wound through every muscle always tightening. The first breath of the day held until the last when sleep finally claimed him. The purity of adrenaline occasionally broke through it in the course of running the Salamanca drug trade. The crack of his knuckles against bone, and the hammering of his heart offered a moment's reprieve before nausea washed through him. The wounded dealers would barely be out of sight before Nacho's skin began itching again and the ceaseless pressure returned.
Nacho rolled his shoulders uselessly and slipped inside, locking the door behind him. He dropped his duffle bag onto the passenger seat. The crisp morning air was soothing against the nape of his neck. He turned the key. Ranchera blasted through Nacho and he smacked the radio violently in response. It cut off and Nacho punched the steering wheel fire bursting across his chest, under his skin.
Lalo.
He wrenched the car into gear, slamming it out of the driveway and onto the road. The Javelin cut a cherry red line down the streets of the faded dilapidated suburbs between his home and El Michoacáno. The restaurant’s cheery facade welcomed him as he parked. He snatched his duffle bag and got out throwing the door closed behind him. It was still early, he doubted anyone but the cook would be in. The gravel of the car park crunched under his heels. As he passed the large restaurant windows something odd caught his eye inside.
The bell above the door rang as he stepped inside. Nacho's hand released the metal handle, while the rest of his body froze mid-step. Laid neatly across every table in the small restaurant were tablecloths. They were festive colours of yellow and orange and the morning light shining on them brought some warmth back to the dour faded walls of El Mich. Alarm raced up Nacho's spine. The back of his hand glided silently across his lower back and around the hilt of his gun.
"Eyyyy Nachito!!!" Lalo shouted his greeting as he walked out of the corridor by the kitchen, a bounce in every step "What do you think? It's nice, hey?"
Nacho huffed out a breath, grinding his teeth, his fingers sliding off the grip of his gun. He looked around meaningfully as if assessing.
"Mmm" he nodded. Lalo strode across the room dressed in his usual patterned tailored shirt opened to the sternum, dark blue jeans and brilliant predator’s grin. His deep eyes sparked brightly when Nacho found them.
"I'm thinking maybe we get some new chairs, finish these fake bricks" Lalo loosely threw an arm around Nacho's shoulders and led him through the room pointing out the various areas of improvement. Caught in Lalo's arm Nacho could feel his pulse drum into a low patter.
Every inch of contact filled his senses from the thoughtless swipe of Lalo's fingertips on his bicep, to the weight of his arm across the yoke of his shoulders to the lean of his torso and hip against Nachos. Lalo’s cologne snaked around him and seeped into his clothes. It was a scent he’d been marked with many times. He cursed the thought of it remaining through the day and into the evening. Drifting through his room when he stripped and left his clothes to bathe. Whispering through his house even as he showered and ate and fucked the girls. The honeyed tang of spice and smoke was never as alive as it was on his skin.
Nacho felt soaked in it.
"Hector never really had any interest in this sort of thing but if we're selling ‘ restaurante’ we might as well sell it right, am I right?" He patted Nacho's chest, punctuating the question physically and shaking him out of his thoughts. Nacho stared stonily out at the cafe feeling Lalo's gaze watching him, calculating.
"One problem" Nacho offered, measuring his tone carefully to avoid betraying his frustration "We keep the tables clear to see what the dealers are up to"
"Pfff" Lalo snorted, releasing Nacho and walking over to his regular table.
"After what you did to that dealer a few months back, ripping his earring off? Yeah I heard about that" Lalo laughed as if Nacho had pulled a cheeky prank he’d thoroughly enjoyed "no es problema"
Nacho nodded.
"Now,” Lalo said lightly “Get under the table"
Nacho blinked. He waited for clarification or extra information but none came.
"What?" He said after the pause.
"Get under the table,” he repeated a subtle rumble in his undertone.
Nacho felt a current electrify the air between them. This was not a question, it was a command. Nacho noticed a stillness in the room. Like even time had stopped. Lalo, always in between movements, filling every space with bombastic sound was completely motionless. His hand rested on the table, palm flat and his eyes stared unblinkingly. Nacho glanced around the room looking for clarity elsewhere. The room surrendered nothing. Everything, aside from the tablecloths and Lalo was as it should have been. Nacho stepped toward Lalo.
"Should I take my gun?" He asked his voice quiet, trained into a softness he did not feel.
"No" Lalo replied.
Nacho's eyes twitched. He drew his gun, put it in his duffle bag then placed the bag on the ground. While keeping half an eye on Lalo he reached down and lifted the cloth to glance underneath. The space was empty, the only thing of note was that the usual centre stalk table had been switched for a 4-leg table leaving much more room underneath. Nacho narrowed his eyes at Lalo one more time before smoothly crouching and sliding under. The tablecloth fell behind concealing him in the small space.
Nacho heard Lalo's muffled 'perfecto' and two pats on the top of the table. Lalos' feet moved over to his duffle bag, the bag was picked up then Lalo was gone.
Nacho lifted the curtain of cheap polyester cloth and peered out at the restaurant. His view mostly consisted of the other colourful tables and the ceiling. A strategically functionless view. His mind developed a theory; this could not be an ambush or trick. As he let the cloth fall back down the light filtered through the fabric filling the space with a warm yellow glow. His tight clothes pinched at him in his cross-legged sit and after a moment of trying to adjust them, he gave up and unbuttoned his shirt. He briefly caught a lapel and brought it to his nose. The radio in the kitchen hissed and jumped till boisterous instrumental music held and Nacho glared.
Lalos' chair jumped out from its usual spot. Nacho moved back as Lalo sat down and pulled the chair in. His legs hung wide and relaxed under the table leaving room for Nacho to sit between them. Nacho’s eyes travelled the lines of Lalo's denim inseams from his bare ankles upwards to where they clutched behind his knees before pulling in deep into his crotch. He fought to keep his fingers from following the same trail.
Lalo leaned forward and Nacho heard him hunched over the table above. His voice was an octave deeper than usual but otherwise, his tone was casual.
"Nachito" he hushed, his fingers wrapping on the tabletop softly, "Do you know why you're there?"
Nacho moved closer to Lalo's body. He could feel the heat radiating from Lalos' form. He balled the hands resting on his thighs into fists. His cheeks and ears burned. Then he jutted his chin out slightly, just enough to caress it against the inside of Lalo's thigh.
He felt Lalo's body shake softly with a snicker. Lalo's right hand reached under cupping Nacho’s jaw and pressing him gently into his thigh again with a hum of approval. He massaged Nacho's head gently, a thumb playing at the sensitive skin behind his earlobe. A roiling mixture of hatred and desire churned in his stomach as Lalo’s fingers deftly soothed him. The tips of his fingers pressed firmly into his skin, working against the tension there, melting it away. With a sharp pang of self-loathing Nacho leaned into the touch, and nuzzled Lalo's leg. Nacho’s eyes slid closed and he drifted in the sensation. The only other people that touched him like this were Joe and Amber and on their best days, they were rarely fully present when they did. Lost in the mind-numbing touch Nacho opened his mouth and lightly bit Lalo's thigh through the denim.
The hand snapped from its deft ministrations to catch Nacho's open jaw and pull it away from the leg.
"That's good" Lalo purred, voice slightly husky "but don't bite too hard, hm?"
Nacho nodded and Lalo released him.
"Now Krazy-8 will be here in.." Lalo clicked his tongue “2 or 3 minutes and then we will begin collections"
Nacho blinked through the haze of Lalo's touch.
"You want me to do this with Krazy-8 and the dealers in the room!" Nacho hissed into the gap where the table met Lalo's body.
"Not if you don't want to," Lalo said with the air of someone ordering a sandwich.
Fucking insane Salamancas , Nacho groused internally.
He sat back on his haunches scowling at Lalo's legs. He looked at the length of the tablecloth. It sat 10 cm off the ground so as long as he kept close to Lalo and didn’t sprawl out too much he would be completely hidden from the rest of the room.
He waited for a threat but Lalo waved his hand under the table instead.
"Earth to Nacho, what's the call man? If it's a no you gotta get out if it's a yes you'll be there till collections end" Lalo supplied.
Nacho's mouth formed into a hard line. His head swam with all the factors; Frings orders, his father's peril, the facade of a good lieutenant, the suffocation of mundanity, the tension like a noose around his throat and Lalo . Draped in grim glory, eyes like tinted glass, smile like a curved silver dagger. Nacho wanted nothing more than to undo him. Take him apart piece by piece. Make him beg.
"I'll do it" Nacho barely heard his words over the rush of blood in his ears.
"Good,” Lalo said withdrawing his hand "don't make a sound"
"Mm" Nacho murmured in the affirmative.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose and took a long silent breath out. He lifted his hands towards Lalo. The bell rang again.
“Eyyy! Right on time!” Lalo’s jubilant voice rang out through the room.
“Hey” Krazy-8 replied, voice cheery but respectful.
“Listen Nacho’s out sick today so you’re gonna have to do collections. Can you handle it?” Lalo asked. A chair scraped across the floor and squeaked as Krazy-8 sat down.
Nacho curled his palm into a fist and raised it to Lalo's right knee.
“Yeah, totally,” Krazy-8 replied.
Lightly, barely touching, Nacho began drawing pointed knuckles diagonally down the meat of Lalo's thigh unfurling his hand to grab the thick muscle underneath and digging his nails in.
“Good” Lalo replied.
Nacho dragged his nails along the sensitive skin under Lalo's leg and around to his outer hip, yanking at the fabric there to tighten the crotch. Slowly he nipped his way up Lalo’s inseam pausing briefly to catch the fabric between his teeth and pull it away from his leg so it snapped back. When he reached Lalo’s fly he allowed his nose to barely skim the zipper before moving onto the other leg. As he groped Lalo's left leg he untangled his hand from Lalo’s hip and spread it into the junction between his right leg and groin, opening Lalo’s legs wider and tracing small circles into the delicate skin beneath.
The bell’s third ring barely registered in Nacho's ears at all as he moved his thumb from its circles to drag up the thick bulge swelling in Lalo’s pants. Not wanting to risk retribution for a stain he carefully popped Lalo's top button. The underwear-covered head of his cock pushed out almost immediately forcing part of the zip open as it went. Nacho bit back a snicker at the unexpected thought that Lalo’s cock was as grandstanding as Lalo himself. He lifted himself into a kneeling position and reached his hand down the front of Lalo's pants, opening the zipper the rest of the way and pulling them looser.
He rubbed Lalo’s cock up against his stomach through the underwear, letting him feel the heat of his palms, squeezing the shape, testing its weight and watching it twitch. He licked his lips unconsciously as he worked Lalo. Lalo’s cock was bigger than he expected, which for the limited space he had was going to make things difficult. A tingling, tight pressure in his own crotch had been increasing, demanding attention till he could no longer contain it. With his spare hand, he unzipped his jeans, applying none of the teasing he'd given Lalo, and pulled his own swollen cock out. He pressed his face into Lalo's underwear as he began stroking himself, waves of pleasure trailing out across his body with every stroke, mouthing at the base of Lalo's cock as his hand worked Lalo’s head. In the dark of that place, he breathed in the heady combination of salty sweat, cologne and the musk of pre-come. He could feel it seeping through Lalo's underwear, sticky on his fingers and he barely bit back a moan. He squeezed the head of his own cock, swiping a finger across the slit. He ground every breath into silence and crushed every gasp into a clenched expression. The silence was excruciating. He released his cock, feeling it spring up to slap against his belly in protest.
He pulled the band of Lalo's underwear down, shoving it as far out of the way as he could watching Lalo's cock bob demandingly. It looked uncomfortably hard. He put his elbows on Lalos' knees, supporting his chin between them. Pursing his lips together he softly blew a line of hot air from the base all the way to the leaking twitching head. Lalo's hand shot under the table and grabbed Nacho's chains, twisting them in a warning. Nacho sneered at Lalo’s first stitch undone.
After a meaningful pause, the hand withdrew. Nacho reached out his tongue lapping lightly at the thick handsome cock, enough to titillate but not enough to please. He played at his own head lazily popping it between his thumb and forefinger and thrusting his hips into his hand. Finally, he smeared Lalos' precome down his cock and properly licked any areas lacking lubrication. As he did he drank in the firm velvet sensation of Lalo's cock against his tongue. He gave it a few strokes before angling it down to his lips and taking it in.
The bulk felt hot and good in his mouth and he swirled his tongue around it. He brought his head down as far as he could while remaining silent, finishing the distance with his fingers. Then he began to move. His head bobbed in and out, his hand twisting as he did. His thumb stroked up the underside of Lalo's shaft. Nacho could feel Lalo's legs tensing on either side of him. Pressing against him and falling back. Nacho yanked his singlet up till his chest was exposed and let go of Lalo, using his mouth alone, and toyed with his own nipples. In the intoxicating moment of sucking Lalo, feeling the powerful drug lord fight to maintain composure and playing with himself he let his eyes slide closed and the world fell away. All that existed was the place he knelt in. The sharp hot shudders of arousal pulsing out from his own cock, his blood singing, tingles jittering across his skin and silence. No drugs, no deals, no death, just the hard wet slide of Lalo pushing deeper and deeper into him.
Then all of a sudden, in his haze, he took Lalo into his throat and coughed out a gag. He yanked his body back to half-mast and froze.
"What was that?"
Krazy-8’s voice cut through the air like a knife and Nacho heard him and the dealer he was talking to stand up. Ice clenched his heart.
Lalo cleared his throat.
"This old building creaks all the time," he said, picking up his newspaper from the table and straightening it out with a snap.
"Didn’t…sound like a creak"
“Chef?” Lalo suggested with disinterest “I’m sure it’s fine”
“Ok” Krazy-8 agreed, though there was a hesitancy to it "You ok today boss? You seem quiet today"
"Just I’m trying to listen to the tunes and read. Don't let me keep you" there was an undertone of threat to Lalo's last sentence that made Nacho shiver.
Nacho heard Krazy 8s chair creak as, Nacho assumed, he sat back down.
"Ey chef, turn the radio up!" Lalo called.
As the music surged Nacho felt a sense of relief flood over him. It was now loud enough that it easily blanketed the smaller noises he was trying to avoid.
Nacho popped Lalo’s cock between his lips then surged down, squeezing and sucking. He could hear his breath racing under the beat of the music as he picked up the pace. His body began to quake and he hummed a moan into the base of Lalo's shaft. He drove his upper body into Lalo’s again and again, bringing them closer to the edge. Nacho could feel Lalo tearing at the seams. With every dip of Nacho's lips, Lalo’s body shuddered. Then suddenly both of Lalos' hands grabbed the sides of his head, yanking and cradling his head fiercely.
Lalo’s fingers dragged across his face and brows as if trying to see him through touch alone. Nacho keened into Lalo's cock. He gripped his own cock, gasping for touch. For a moment he felt insane, desperate to throw the table over, push Lalo to the floor, rip his clothes off and come all over his smug, handsome face; Lalo's mouth dropping open in surprise and ecstasy. The image of it exploded a white-hot inferno through Nacho sending him over the edge. His head jolted deep into Lalo’s crotch as he came, expression choked in a silent scream as shot after shot of his cum hit the floor under Lalo’s chair, Lalo's cock buried deep in his throat.
He finally heard a sound from Lalo; a series of ragged breaths as Lalo came, his hips jolting forward. Nacho swallowed Lalo through their final trembling aftershocks. He released Lalo's softening cock, sagging against Lalo’s left leg and trying to catch his breath. He dragged a hand across his mouth, removing the spit and cum collected there. Lalos' hands slipped away from Nacho’s head to fall to his sides. Before he knew what he was doing Nacho pressed a kiss into the thigh his head was resting against, the post-orgasm bliss bathing him in a moment of thoughtless devotion. The danger of the impulse sobered him and he rubbed his eyes with his other hand. He sat back up and tucked Lalo’s cock into his underwear. Then slowly, carefully, he dragged the zipper closed, feeling the flesh beneath the fabric responding to every one of his gentle touches. The weight he was leaning on vanished as Lalo’s chair moved back just slightly from the table. Nacho fell forward his head just peeking out from under the tablecloth.
Lalo's face was flushed, eyes heavily lidded and mouth slightly parted with quiet pants. His gaze locked Nacho to the spot. Beneath the blown black eyes, Nacho could see a starvation that had not yet begun to be fed. A barely restrained desire blazing within, pinning Nacho in his place, it's only need to consume everything in him till there was nothing left. He lifted Nacho's chin and ran a thumb across his swollen lips.
"To think" Lalo whispered so faintly even Nacho could barely hear it "I saved you for a table"
He tutted quietly to himself and for a millisecond Nacho thought he saw Lalo's head tip fractionally forward as if he had wanted to bend to kiss Nacho. Instead, he winked and pushed his chair back in. Nacho's head dropped, exhaustion flooding his body. Lalo threw a few napkins under the table. Nacho cleaned himself and the cum splattered tiles beneath Lalo's chair. He pulled his undershirt down and stretched his legs as best he could.
He heard clicking and looked over. Lalo was clicking his fingers to get his attention. He laid a hand on Lalo’s shoe. Then Lalo pointed down between his legs. Nacho frowned and crawled over, turning around to sit with his back against the chair. Lalo pulled him closer and kneaded his hands down Nacho's neck to the top of his chest. His hands roamed languidly caressing his neck, face and jaw. Nacho futilely tried to resist the pleasure it brought. Lalo’s touch felt sweet on his still-humming skin. Nacho's eyes grew heavy and he let them fall his head lolling back into Lalo's lap. The tight coils in his muscles unwound and in the golden light, for the hours that stretched out till the end of collections, Nacho revelled in the peace.