Chapter Text
Nacho’s knee jolted up and down sporadically, banging against the glove compartment frantically. He was so close. All he had to do now was drive Lalo down to the border, and if Tyrus’s vague, non-answer’s were to be believed, then he’d finally be done. Done with the cartel, done with Gus, done with creepy fucking Salamancas. He could go to his dad, seek forgiveness, maybe work in the shop. God, he’d be so happy if he could go the rest of his life without even seeing a gun again. He could finally live a good life. An honest life.
He was almost free.
He was pulled out of his daydreaming by footsteps approaching, and turned to look at Lalo, forcing his leg to lay still. Pushing down his anxiety, he ground his teeth, working up the nerve to speak. He was so close. This had to go perfectly.
“Where to?” He questioned, and his voice was weaker than he’d like, but it was calm and unwavering, and when Lalo answered “Go. The border”, he found he felt calm. He was ready. He was almost done.
They drove largely in silence, Lalo’s usual easy chatter non-existent. Nacho supposed he might be sad, if he was even capable of feeling such a thing. Perhaps he’d miss Nacho – in the way one might miss a pet, or a nice car, or a familiar meal, most likely, but he’d be missed all the same. The thought of being close with Lalo – the things he’d done – it made him shudder, hairs standing up on the back of his neck. It disgusted him. The idea of being missed by that psycho was- disturbing, to put it lightly. He could only hope everything would go as planned, and for the time being, try to think of literally anything else. He looked to the scenery around him – cerulean blue skies and endless, dusty hills, interrupted by the stark silhouette of desert trees. It was beautiful. It was so, so beautiful.
It made him want to throw up. How many bodies were buried here? How much blood had been spilled? Is there cash, buried under that rock, over there? How many bullets lie, rusted, lost in the sand? How many people have been forgotten here?
He was snapped out of his thoughts as a tear threatened to spill out of his eye, and he was suddenly taken aback by the severity of his emotions at such a mundane sight. Most unfortunately of all, Lalo seemed to have noticed.
“Ey, Nachito, cheer up, yeah? Let’s talk. I won’t be seeing you for a while, y’know!” Lalo’s voice was as honey-smooth as ever, his laugh still effortlessly charming. Nacho hated the way it made his stomach turn, even if now it was more from disgust than anything else.
“Yeah… it will be a while, won’t it?” He tried to not let the hope he felt leak into his voice, keeping it as calm and even as he could, despite how much he hated everything about this. Almost over, he reminded himself. At least he could use his abnormal emotions to his advantage. “...I’ll miss you, y’know?”
Lalo seemed to still at that. His smile faltered, just a little, before taking Nacho’s hand in his and pressing a chaste kiss to his knuckles. “I’ll miss you too, cariño. ” He paused, fingers rubbing soft circles into Nacho’s palm, his brow furrowing in thought. “You could come with me, Ignacio. I’d make it work.”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Nacho shook his head slowly, struggling to maintain his composure. “We can’t, Lalo. You need someone here to manage Salamanca territory, keep it safe. And how would we explain it to the Dons? It wouldn’t go well. I’ll see you soon, just a year or so, yeah? And in the mean time, I can come visit you in Mexico, maybe, when this dies down a little.” God, he hoped that worked. He had no idea what he’d do if Lalo decided he needed to come down to Mexico with him to- to live with him. He wouldn’t have a choice, but it sounded like a fate worse than death; having to play lovers with Lalo Salamanca, of all the awful men in the world.
Lalo sighed, running his hand through his hair languidly and relaxing into his seat. “You’re right, mi amor . But yes, you should come visit me, eh? I’ll show you my hacienda , you’ll love it, I’m sure. Ah, come on, smile , Nachito! It’s not the end of the world! I’ll call you.” He playfully punched Nacho’s arm, leaning towards him to press a kiss to his cheek, eyes sparkling in the light. Nacho forced out a laugh, returning a kiss carefully, his hands trembling in their white-knuckle grip on the wheel. “I’m sure I will, Lalo. I bet it’s beautiful.” Almost done. Almost done.
“Oh, it is!” Almost done.
“And I’ll call you, too. To let you know how things are going up north.” Almost done.
“Naturally.” Almost done. Lalo cleared his throat, and smoothly squeezed Nacho's hand from where it was intertwined with his own. “Anyhow, let’s talk of happier things, yeah? Enough with the sappy stuff.” Almost done.
“Mhm.” Almost done.
Lalo began to talk, ranting and raving about Mexico, the Cartel; incessantly prattling on about stories of great Salamanca men and violent firefights and turf wars. It all began to blend together, words melting into one another as Nacho’s hearing was overtaken by a harsh ringing. His hands were numb, he felt like he was disconnected from himself, his body too cold, too unfamiliar to possibly be his. All he could feel was his touch, everywhere, unavoidable. A palm, pressed into his shoulder, nails digging in tight as fingers rubbed in a mockery of comfort. Kisses on his neck, teeth grazing the skin at every chance, tongue red hot, a bruising grip on his waist, pulling him apart and laughing as he did. Poisonous, blistering touches, tainting his soul, refusing to leave. The ringing in his ears got louder. He couldn’t think. The road wavered in front of him. Almost done. Almost done. Almost done. He was so close, damn it, if only Lalo would leave him alone for one goddamn second–
“Nacho. Lemme out here.”
Oh.
Oh.
Thank fuck.
“Yeah yeah, sure.” In an instant, he felt a thousand times lighter. His skin no longer crawled with remembered demons as he hit the brakes and brought the Javelin to a stop, allowing himself a moment to feel like a person again. Almost done. His gaze was fixed on Lalo, watching how he moved as he exited the car, finally letting out a shaky breath when he left before getting out of the vehicle himself, praying to a god he only half-believed in to exude the emotions of ‘a casual goodbye to my boyfriend’ rather than ‘thank fuck a psychopathic monster’s about to die.’ Eventually, he looked away, drawing in a trembling exhale.
“You want me to wait?” Please say no.
“Nah. They’ll be here.” Nacho’s shoulders slumped, relief flooding his body, and he stilled for a second, almost unable to believe it was finally over. “Really, go!”, Lalo shouted.
He walked over to Lalo briskly and pressed a brief kiss to his lips, looking him in the eye as sincerely as he could while hatred coiled around his gut. “Call me,” he murmured, looking up at Lalo through his eyelashes the way he knew he liked.
“I will, mi amor. Travel safe.” Lalo returned the kiss, holding him crushingly tight for a moment before letting go of him. “Now go!”
“Ok, ok!” Nacho laughed, voice sickeningly saccharine. He turned around and walked to the Javelin, steps measured and careful, before getting into the car and hitting the gas as hard as he could, speeding down the road while dust billowed up around him in great clouds. His mind felt twisted up into knots and frozen and burnt; his thoughts were unintelligible and his muscles were tense until Lalo was far, far behind him.
And then, finally, he cried. The deep, wracking sobs that ripped out of his chest were violent, and it was unlike anything he’d ever felt. It felt like bliss. It felt like freedom.