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Nacho's lungs hurt; sucking in as much air as they can and yet it's never enough. The ache in his legs increases with every step as he sprints through the fields, not daring to look back. And his mouth- his lips are cracked and spotted with blood, while his tongue is so dry it feels like it's rotting all the way down his throat. His chest heaves and his tired eyes dart around sporadically, and yet he never stops running.
Hearing the swish of the plants somewhere behind him, he's convinced it's not just the wind- but that the predator is closing in on its prey. He's being tracked and hunted down like an animal, though he feels as if his claws have been clipped and his teeth ripped from gums.
In other words, he is defenseless.
No weapons, no food, and nothing but filthy water from puddles and abandoned wells to drink- he's burning through whatever trace of energy he has left. If he could just make it to the underbrush up ahead though, maybe he could slip out of his pursuer's sight. Maybe he could escape with his life.
Nacho hears the whizzing bullet before he feels it pierce him, driving into his back and exiting through his chest- and he hits the dirty ground before he registers the deep pain ripping through his core. Nacho bites his lip to stifle the wail that his body is so desperate to release; he wants to die like a man, not a gunned down animal.
Laying face down in his own blood with nowhere to go, he hears soft steps grow close until they stop just beside him. A tall body blocks the moonlight from his view, leaving Nacho to look up at the shadowy frame of Lalo.
His lover- no, ex lover. His ex boss, his ex friend. Everything between him and Lalo is just a big 'x' now, isn't it?
Nacho doesn't have to see the frown to know that it's there as Lalo circles him like a vulture. His steps are slow as he looks down at Nacho, seeing the dark blood that shines in the moonlight. Lalo notices that he's in shock- Nacho must've truly believed he would get away with this. He finally crouches down beside Nacho, raising his hand.
The bloody man is quick to shift and groan, trying to move even as everything within him burns. But Lalo does not strike or bring him harm, instead resting his hand on the side of Nacho's face- the side that isn't pressed against the dirt.
"Shh shh." Lalo hushes gently, "I'm not going to hurt you… This is enough."
And it was enough for the Salamanca. For Nacho's betrayal, he deserves death and Lalo had brought it to him. He thought he could run from his treacherous actions, but Lalo had caught up to serve him this beautiful doom. So now, with what little time they have left, they are equals again.
Nacho has no choice but to give in since there's no escape, jolting lightly as he coughs up thick blood. It oozes from his mouth and runs down his chin, all while Lalo continues to caress him.
He lets out a cry though when Lalo grabs him, rolling him over to lay on his back. Whatever body parts Nacho can still feel, they protest the movement. But then his head is resting in Lalo's lap, and it feels so soft compared to the harsh dirt and rocks. He looks up to see the sad smile on Lalo's face in the moonlight, but he's looking at Nacho like a bittersweet conclusion- and Nacho supposes that he is one.
"Why…?" Lalo finally asks, "Why would you betray me like that?"
Nacho inhales, and it sounds wet and harsh with the blood filling his lungs. He tries to speak, but only more coughs and gurgles come out.
"Come on, Nachito. These are your final words, so make them count." Lalo softly urges, wiping away some of the blood.
It's futile to try and clean up the mess, this instead a gesture of romance to the Salamanca. All the blood and sweat; Lalo loves the way he can lay waste to even the strongest of spirits, and then slowly ease them from this life and onto the next.
"I-…" Nacho swallows down blood and bile, "I didn't want to."
The soft smile Lalo wears never ceases, and Nacho can see that there is forgiveness but no regret. Lalo wants to cry, but he won't allow the dying man to see his tears. Nacho had to die; it had to end this way because Lalo would never be able to trust him again.
'You're gonna be halfway to being a Salamanca.'
Did Nacho know what Lalo was saying when he told him that? At the fire pit of his compound, he was offering his lover more than just wealth and power. He was promising Nacho someone to share it with. Oh but he had to ruin it, didn't he?
People always have a way of betraying Lalo- and maybe that's why he admires the dead so much. They're unable to stab him in the back, because he's already done it to them in a literal sense.
Lalo shifts to lean down and kiss Nacho, his hands now supporting the dying man's head. Nacho sucks in a ragged breath but doesn't fight it, letting the Salamanca press their lips together. Nacho had felt so cold, but soon he can feel Lalo's warm body on top of him. The heat radiates off of him and envelopes Nacho, but he continues to shiver from blood loss.
He realizes that Lalo is trying to get him comfortable for his death, and tears start to roll down his temples. Even if he could find the strength to speak again, he doesn't know what he would say. So instead of trying, he weakly reaches to hold Lalo in return, his hands resting on the Salamanca's back. He's too scared of his impending demise to fight, and so he accepts his killer's comfort.
Lalo can taste the copper tang on Nacho's lips as he slowly kisses him. The older blood on Nacho's chin is getting sticky, while the freshest of it is now smeared against Lalo's face. It's thick and warm; an odd comfort. He breathes out the softest of sighs while pulling away, looking into the dimming eyes of his tragic lover.
"It's ok to let go now, Nachito." He softly assures, "I won't make you die alone."
He is giving Nacho the pleasure of quietly passing like a thief in the night, when he could've dragged him off into the darkest depths to be tortured and executed. This is mercy to a Salamanca; a sign of compassion.
Nacho can hardly breathe as he stares up at Lalo. His death isn't a natural one, but he's still a natural at it. The look of fear is gone for the most part- delirium from blood loss, shock, and acceptance all playing it's part in calming the mind. Lalo has seen this process of death many times before, but Nacho does it with such eloquence. Lalo looks at those long lashes and pretty eyes while the life slowly drains from them.
As lips descend on his again, Nacho finally accepts Lalo's invitation and lets go- both of his life and of Lalo. Lalo kisses Nacho through his final breath, completing the job in stripping him of the soul he could never get back. He doesn't stop though, trying to cling to the moment as he knows he will never see him again.
Now aware of Nacho's deception, Lalo thinks he would take this moment with him over any of those where he was alive. Nacho is his true self now more than he had ever been- no more lies, just Lalo with his labored breaths and Nacho with his bullet wound.
Lalo's mustache is soon getting coated in blood, but his deepening kisses don't falter. He holds onto Nacho's limp form as he lets his body press down on it. Blood starts to seep into Lalo's clothes while he slowly grinds- anything to feel closer to the man that was once his.
Lalo knows he'll think back on his time with Nacho, and he will miss him- or at least who he thought he was. If Nacho would've come clean, maybe they could've worked things out. It seems his Nachito wasn't exactly a venomous snake, but instead a deceptive coward. How disappointing.
A broken moan comes out as Lalo holds the sides of Nacho's head, staring into his dead eyes as if to bring life back into them- a new life that wouldn't betray him. But even if Lalo is a reaper, he certainly isn't a god.
He is alone, and he's covered in the blood of someone he dared to love.
Tears start to blur Lalo's vision as he thinks of this; how he must be cursed by fate. He's destined to live like this- clinging to the empty shells of humans because the life within them can not be trusted.
Lalo's breath shudders and his chest aches for something real, not the slow and morbid friction he's desperately chasing. The warmth of Nacho's blood and the coolness of his flesh makes Lalo's head spin, and his tears finally fall. He feels nothing but defeat, even as he's the one alive and rutting against the corpse of his downfall.
Wherever Nacho is now, Lalo hopes he's watching and knows that his love is still real. It's real and it's tearing him apart, because soon he'll have to abandon his remains. He begs for time to stop and let him be happy for once, but the night sky is already starting to pale as the sun begins to wake- and it will wake to the most gruesome of sights.
Lalo captures those cold lips once again, slipping his tongue in as he moans- but when he pulls away, he sobs with blood dripping from his chin. Pressing their foreheads together as well as their hips, Lalo can't help but wish Nacho well in Hell.