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They’d crossed into Guerrero during the night, the job quick and bloody, managed to avoid much hand-to-hand bullshit. The full team was overkill, but that just meant they'd been done faster. Besides, they all needed a goddamn holiday, and somehow that's what this had turned into.
Steve had suggested passing into Oaxaca, maybe stretching it out a few days (
‘Come on boss, my ass hasn't seen the sun in so long it's giving a whole new meaning to ‘mooning’. I need a tan on more than my driving arm.’
), and so he’d spun a story to get them a delayed return. Steve had nearly cried, it was beautiful. Talking Alejandro into joining them had barely taken a moment, and the suggestion that he pack a swimsuit had been met with amused enthusiasm.
So here they were, job done, soaking up the afternoon sun and polishing off an impressive quantity of fish tacos. Matt felt content, moaning on a deep sigh as a breeze from the ocean cooled the sweat trickling down the back of his neck. Fuck he’d needed this. Steve was a genius. He glanced around the table, his boys laughing and relaxed, and maybe this was overdue for all of them. Alejandro bumped his shoulder conspiratorially, smiled and tilted his head at the rest of their group, sharing Matt's wavelength.Steve’s animated tone broke through Matt's contemplation, drawing him back into the conversation happening around him.
‘So, Jimmy, are we talking relationship advice or hook-up advice? Cause those are very different skill sets my man. I mean obviously hook-ups are my thing…’
He gestured expansively at his body and leered to make his point. Douchebag. Matt chuckled.
‘...beyond that, I suggest flowers and housework.’
Matt laughed outright at that one.
‘Well I know that always leaves me impressed and horny, Steve.’
‘I know how to get you going, Daddy.’
The table erupted in laughter, Steve throwing his best lascivious grin at Matt, the little shit kicking him under the table before he leant over to rub his hands along the recently shaved sides of Matt's head.
‘Okay, well share with us your winning techniques then. We all know how ah,
extensive,
your experience is. You gotta be doing something right.’
Matt dropped his voice into a husky drawl, all in for the game now.‘I do lots of things right.’Someone threw a discarded lime wedge at his head. God he loved his boys.‘Coconut oil.’
Matt grinned at the amused snort Steve made.
‘Light coconut oil is a great lube. Can't go wrong with coconut oil. KY gets sticky and ugly, and it will rot eventually.’
‘Plus coconut oil is organic’ Steve offered joyfully, getting into the spirit of things.
‘And coconut oil is organic, yes, thank you Steve. And we love things that are organic in this day and age do we not?’
He posed this last question to Alejandro, unable to resist, and was surprised by the open amusement written across the man's face. He responded with an indulgent nod, a flash of something hot in those hazel eyes, and Matt felt his stomach drop. The
want
fizzed in his veins, the desire to drag Alejandro onto the table and chase those smirking lips with his own teeth and tongue growing unbearable.
Alejandro was still gazing at him intently, and fuck, his thoughts were probably entirely obvious, a neon sign (
Let Me Have You, It’ll Be Perfect)
hanging over his head. He took a steadying breath and tried to turn his attention back to the rest of the table, where the boys were getting loud and creative with his advice.
Steve was watching him, eyebrow raised ever so slightly, perceptive pain in the ass. Matt reached over and swiped his bottle of soda, drinking deeply before tilting his head a little in response. As he stole another swig he felt Alejandro's knee press firmly up against his, and nearly choked on his mouthful. Steve reached over to take back his soda, very clearly gleeful at the situation, not needing specifics to understand what had just happened. Matt could hear Alejandro's soft snicker, and threw him a smirk of his own before pressing closer, knee to ankle.
The soft flirtation felt good, heady and delicious, his mouth going dry as he pretended to be part of the banter around him. It had been an eternity since he'd held on to self-restraint like this, drawn it out like this. Protected his heart like this. And there was the terrifying truth, golden bright and burning at the core of whatever this was between them. Matt's heart was in this deep, and it complicated things, made him so much more invested in every step. There was hesitation in Alejandro too, though the man’s reasons for it could be fucking countless. The push and pull between them was intoxicating, both of them edging closer and withdrawing before things tipped, both of them clearly
wanting
but never taking the next step. Matt's brain, normally so good at navigating complex scenarios, had utterly abandoned him in this one. A broken record of ‘
not yet
’ the only answer he could seem to give himself, faced with six-foot-something of Colombian hitman and a heart overflowing with goddamn feelings. What was his life?
Steve snapped him out of his reverie, commanding the attention of the table.
‘Okay you hot young things, and our fearless Daddy…’
The manic grin he gave Matt was infectious.
‘...I’ve got a wicked need to dance brewing, and nobody puts baby in a corner. Someone find us a bar, and I’m gonna go get pretty.’
Matt shook his head in fondness as Steve climbed up from the table. The rest of the team followed suit with a chorus of obscenities, offering up opinions on what exactly constituted a good bar. Matt really did love these kids. How he’d gotten lucky enough to find himself a group of people in this wasteland of an industry that were more like a dysfunctional band of siblings than anything else, he had no fucking clue. But damn he was grateful for it.
The sun was starting to bank, sky slipping into coral reds and ambers, and suddenly a couple of drinks in a sweaty bar sounded brilliant. He turned to Alejandro as they both rose from the table, stretching out the muscles in his lower back with a groan.
‘Come on, pretty sure we can find a decent bottle of whisky with our names on it.’
---
The boys had done well. The bar was exactly the right amount of crowded, bodies spilling out onto the street, the beach beyond that. Touristy enough that they'd blend in, music pounding almost too loud, plenty of imported liquor.
Matt leant against the bar, watching the bartender refilling two glasses with generous pours. Steve sidled up to him, nudging his shoulder and crowding in close to make himself heard.
‘So. You and our friendly neighbourhood ghost, eh?’
Matt let out a frustrated groan, dropping his hands onto the edge of the bar and digging his fingers in.
‘Not that simple, buddy.’
Steve clapped him on the shoulder in solidarity.
‘Maybe it could be though? Depends how determined you are to keep playing the avoidance game, I’d say.’
Matt looked over to meet the stare he could feel burning into the side of his skull. Steve’s expression held a hint of challenge, knew he was pushing his luck, and Matt felt himself let go of his initial urge to retreat.
‘Ah fuck. You know what, I have absolutely no fucking clue what the fuck I’m doing.’
‘Well cheers to that!’
Steve laughed, a loud bright thing, and raised his glass.
‘All I’m saying is you deserve some happiness boss, all those great cliches, and it’d be impossible to misinterpret the way you two keep looking at each other. We’ve got your back, me and the boys, it's a safe space and all that.’
Matt glanced over at the other side of the bar, where a few of the guys were not so subtly watching their exchange. These kids. He turned back to Steve, appreciative, and a bit suspicious.
‘You wouldn't, by chance, be taking fucking bets here would you?’
Steve ducked his head and barked out another laugh.
‘We might be taking Fucking Bets here, yeah.’
Matt cracked up as he playfully shoved a shoulder into Steve, and reached for the two glasses of whisky. Steve gave him a loose salute before bouncing back out onto the dancefloor, rolled-up dusky pink Bermuda shorts showing off an expanse of pale thigh. Matt shook his head, endlessly amused, and strolled outside into the cooling evening air.
Alejandro was lounging in a deckchair, watching waves crashing on the beach, and Matt took a moment to admire the relaxed lines of his body. Well-worn linen draped over strong muscle, shirt loosely buttoned to reveal a deep vee of powerful chest, long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, hands resting on solid thighs. He was wearing his hair a little shaggy at the moment, soft, his face smooth-shaven, and Matt wanted to run his fingers over the man's sharp jaw. He looked so at ease, like he belonged here, and Matt delighted in the knowledge that curled up underneath all that suave exterior was one of the most dangerous men he'd ever met. A man who was well aware he was being studied, if the languid tilt of a heavy gaze in Matt's direction at that moment was any indication. Fuck. Desire unfurled hot in his belly, and Matt held those eyes, letting Alejandro see it all as he approached. He passed over one of the glasses and reclaimed his own spot.
‘I almost just grabbed us the bottle.’
Alejandro smiled at him, hungry expression shifting into something softer, and Matt's heart did some impressive gymnastics in his chest. God he was in deep.
‘Thought things might have gotten messy real fast though.’
Matt watched intently as Alejandro took a long sip, licking at his bottom lip as he lowered his glass.
‘So how exactly did you manage to arrange a job with this much spare time? Feels like an excuse for a holiday.’
Alejandro had dropped the American accent, letting Spanish curve the shape of his words again, something he did whenever it was just the two of them. Matt hoarded these moments, couldn't get enough.
‘Not bad, eh? Steve is a fantastic travel agent. Sunshine, nice hotel on the beachfront, an abundance of large caliber weapons.’
Matt raised his glass to his lips, pausing.
‘Though I hear Puerto Escondido was your suggestion…’
He took a deep drink, letting the whisky burn low and strong, the heat creeping out to his fingertips.
Alejandro tilted his head, eyes tracking the movement of Matt's glass, watching his throat as he swallowed.
‘Hmmm. When Steve mentioned Oaxaca, well, I like it here.’
He gestured vaguely towards the coastline, the half dozen countries linking Mexico and Colombia stretching out somewhere in the distance.
‘A good stopover.’
Matt quirked his lips.
‘I can see the appeal. Not a bad place to pause on your way home.’
He tipped back the last of his drink, feeling another little piece of Alejandro slotting into place in his mind. He shot the man a teasing smile.
‘Bars and dancing, swimming, working on your tan…’
Alejandro chuckled, shrugged, smirked.
‘Like I said. I like it here. One day you'll join me in Cartagena, I’ll show you how we do nightlife.’
Matt's brain rapid-fired old memories of crowded clubs back home, flushed skin, strong drinks. Imagined how good it would be to press up against Alejandro on a sweaty Colombian dance floor.
‘It’s been a lifetime since these hips did salsa. You sure you're ready for that?’
Alejandro's gaze dipped the length of Matt's body, steady and considering, dragging his glass along his bottom lip before tipping back the last of his drink. Matt felt like he might burst into flames.
‘Ah, well, that's what Aguardiente is for. And I can help you find your rhythm…’
He reached for Matt's empty glass, eyebrow raised in question. Matt nodded, watched as Alejandro disappeared back inside. His head was tripping over the imagery of their conversation, caught up in the idea of Alejandro relaxed and vibrantly alive, skin golden from days on the beach, hands on his body reminding him how to feel the music, easy smiles. The warmth that was simmering in his belly had nothing to do with the whisky.
He turned back towards the ocean, losing himself in his thoughts as the last of the blushing sunset settled into an inky blue. Alejandro brushed his shoulder, catching his attention.
‘Come on…’
He kept walking, down onto the sand, pausing to toe off his shoes. Matt kicked off his crocs as he joined him, grinning when he noticed the bottle in his hand as he followed him to the water’s edge.
Alejandro unscrewed the cap, eyes watching Matt, expression wicked. He raised the bottle to his lips, drinking deeply before he spoke, eye contact unfaltering.
‘I’ve never minded messy.’
Matt was certain he was about to swallow his own tongue.
Alejandro held out the bottle, and Matt reached for it gratefully, their fingers brushing in the exchange. Matt took a steadying breath and a drink of his own, kicking his feet through the cool surf lapping at his ankles. He waited as Alejandro rolled his pants up over his calves, feeling ridiculously eager at the show of skin, and when the fuck had his life turned into a Jane Austen novel? Goddamn. He shook his head, needing air, need anything to take his focus off the response his body was having to the man in front of him. He took another swig from the bottle.
Alejandro plucked the liquor from his hand, waded through the shallow water, sighed and drank.
‘Where to after this?’
Matt replayed that in his head as Alejandro glanced over at him curiously. Yeah.
‘I mean, you coming back Stateside? I’ve got a couple more jobs lined up, nothing local, heading back OS. Could use another pair of hands if you want the work.’
He could hear the fake casual tone in his own voice, threaded through with a raw neediness that he’d come to associate with the pull to bring Alejandro on ops. The pull to keep him close. He exhaled.
‘It's always better when I know it's you on my six.’
Alejandro hummed, considering, nodding gently.
‘Maybe.’
They wandered further up the beach in easy silence, passing the whisky between them, letting the night settle in. Matt felt soft around the edges, limbs loose from the liquor, the insistent
want
in his veins a background buzzing to the calmness that had wrapped around him.
Moving in close, Alejandro steered them a little further up onto dry sand, their hands almost brushing between them.
‘Do you ever want to stop? All of it. The jobs, the orders, the bullshit? Just walk out.’
Alejandro's gaze was turned heavenward, taking in the sky full of stars, giving him space. Matt let his response sit on the back of his tongue for a moment.
‘Yeah, of course.’
He reached out and claimed the bottle, swirling the contents.
‘Of course. Sometimes I
do
just stop, disappear, for a while at least. Don't think I’m totally done yet though. One day. A few more assholes to get rid of first. And then it'll be nothing but beaches and bars and working on my tan.’
He laughed, the sound forced and tinged with something painful, took a drink. Took a breath.
‘Sometimes I tell myself I’m helping. Sometimes I feel monstrous. Most of the time this just feels like a lifetime of pushing through in a shitty line of work that I never planned on getting into. I just hope I make the call to get out at the right time, you know? Before everything turns to hell, while there's still a way out…’
His voice scraped out of him.
‘...while there's still something left alive in me worth salvaging.’
His hand was shaking as he raised the bottle, taking a mouthful a little too quickly, a trickle of amber liquid spilling over his lip.
Alejandro was in his space in the span of a breath. Hand cupping his cheek, thumb wiping the whisky from his chin, blunt nail catching the edge of his lip. Matt shivered at the sensation, the tenderness in the soft contact, felt the moment stretching out. Alejandro's other hand joined his on the neck of the bottle, fingers slipping between his own, stroking for a moment before gradually drawing it from his grip. A gasp escaped Matt's lips, Alejandro's thumb slowly tracing back along the curve of his mouth, pressing, lingering, drawing away as though it was costing him dearly to pull back. His heavy gaze stayed locked on Matt, warm and intimate, trusting.
‘Let me show you something.’
Alejandro whispered the words into the night air, took a hesitant step away, letting them both ease back from the precipice of
more
. Matt's heart was pounding hard, the combination of his own honesty and Alejandro’s touch leaving him reeling. Matt followed him further along the beach, the music from the club they’d left behind just white noise in the distance now. Alejandro came to a stop, and turned to stare up at the buildings facing the ocean. He pointed towards an unassuming apartment block, white rendered walls behind a lush blooming garden, the sort of place tourists book out for months of the year.
‘Floor beneath the penthouse. Balcony on the right.’
Matt followed his gaze, zeroing in on the apartment in question.
‘It's one of mine. My only one in Mexico.’
The words hung heavy between them. Alejandro took a drink.
‘If you ever need somewhere safe.’
Matt turned to face him, the weight of what he’d just been given settling in his chest, words of gratitude catching in his throat.
‘Alejandro…’
The other man turned to face him, guarded, shoulders tight. Maybe he couldn't quite believe what he'd just done either. But then. It had been his suggestion that they come to Puerto Escondido at all. Fuck. His only safehouse in Mexico, and he’d just handed it to Matt, invited him in. No one had ever trusted him like that before. No one had ever wanted him that close before. Except Alejandro. And the years between that early closeness and now were vast, a gaping chasm that sat heavy between them, a distance that Matt hadn't been sure they would ever truly bridge completely. But maybe. Just maybe. God he missed the way they'd been once. He felt like solid ground had just dropped out from underneath him.
‘...thank you.’
He whispered the words, tried to put everything he was feeling into them, let his expression open up. Hoped that Alejandro understood. Alejandro's whole body seemed to relax in response, a soft smile curving his lips. He nodded slowly and turned them back the way they had come, pace languid, the intensity of what had just passed between them settling with every step. Matt let his mind wander, sift through the mass of emotions churning in him, overwhelmed and full, want and need and hope. Alejandro's steady voice cut through the turbulence in Matt's head.
‘I will come back to America with you. I have the time. And besides, your travel agent puts together a good holiday.’
Matt laughed, reclaimed the whisky and gave Alejandro a gentle shove, let the man even him out from his wild thoughts.
‘Excellent. I love it when the whole band goes on tour.’
The peace settled between them as they wandered back towards the bar, their friends. A hotel. Part of Matt wanted to sink into his own head and process everything, not resurface until he had a grip on things. Find solid ground again. Part of him wanted to take Alejandro by the hand and bypass everything else, just get him back to his room and make him fall apart, make him understand how badly he wanted to hold on to him.
By the time they reached their discarded shoes, Matt’s head was spinning, and he wasn't sure if it was all the whisky or entirely the presence of the man next to him. This night. Fuck.
Alejandro pulled on his shoes as Matt slipped into his, then reached out to grasp his arm, keeping him close. He shook the bottle gently, almost empty, dropping it to the ground.
‘Messy, hmmm.’
His gaze was considering, hand running ever so slowly down Matt's arm, fingers stroking, pressing into his palm. Matt grasped his hand, squeezing tightly, moved into his space. He ran a hand through the hair at the back of Alejandro's neck, drawing him down gently to lean their temples together, cheeks grazing, breath ghosting out on a shiver before he shifted back. Alejandro watched every little expression that was flickering across his face, every tumultuous emotion, and took his own small step back, eyes full of understanding. Breathing space.
‘Another night, perhaps.’
Whispered words, Matt's favourite soft smile, and like that he was walking away, hotel bound.
Matt watched him go, aching and warm and utterly overwhelmed, feeling more alive than he had done in a long time.