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bloodybigshiplucille · 11 months

Text

Old Habits Die Hard

gif from @beldros

C H A P T E R E I G H T:

E N L A O S C U R I D A D

pairing: javier peña x latina!freader

word count: 15k

rating: e (minors dni)

song inspo: por las noches by peso pluma

summary: you and javier struggle to hold yourselves back with the boundaries you’ve set to take your time, and a special occasion only causes more tension between you.

warnings: angst, a bit of anxiety, insecurity, fuck ton of pining, mixed signals, jealousy , fear of being caught, minor confessions, heavy petting, kind of public sex, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), praise kink

author’s note: this chapter marks 110K+ words written for OHDH!!!🎉😘 so happy to finally share this with you guys so this is my “sorry for the long wait” / “happy ohdh 1 year anniversary” chapter lol. happy reading perras ;)

“Ok, ok. Espalda recta, culita afuera, brazos arriba. Y tus pies se mueves como así. (Ok, ok. Back straight, ass out, arms up. And your feet move like this.)”

You try to mimic Mariana’s steps where she dances besides you. One hand on her stomach, the other one in the air, as if holding her dance partner. Your ankles turn when hers turn, and your hips sway when hers sway. But you have that part down to a science by now.

“Waitwaitwait, do that again. That little turn you just did,” you ask her mid step.

“So, it’s like this,” she takes the first step. “This,” she takes another step back. “Then thiiisss,” she takes a step forward and turns around on the other heel in one fluid turn. “Then back in again.”

You listen to the radio playing the salsa station Jazmín usually plays in the bakery. Waiting for the right timing to copy Mari’s steps. You’re not used to her version of salsa but it’s pretty similar to the cumbias you usually dance to. The only difference is that it’s forward and not side to side.

“Ok like… this, this, thiiisss, then this,” you think out loud. Copying her steps to the beat of the song echoing in the bakery. The fringes of your yellow cotton dress twirls around your thighs as you make the turn.

“Uh-huh, así mismo! (Uh-huh, just like that,” she squeals excitedly. “Ok, ok. Now with me.”

Mari faces you and takes your waist in her hand to lead you as you take her other hand in yours. Waiting for the perfect timing to start the steps. You let her guide you, remembering to keep your head up as you recall the steps. When she gives you a little space, you take it as your cue to turn. Letting the music guide your feet.

Y trajo al mundo esa miel

Ése debe ser su nombre

Y le regaló a los hombres azuquita pa'l café

¿Que qué?, ¿que qué?, ¿qué fue?, ¿qué fue?

Azuquita pa'l café

¿Que qué?, ¿que qué?, ¿qué fue?, ¿qué fue?

Azuquita pa'l café…

“Eso, nenaaa! Mueve tus caderas! (Yes, girl! Move those hips!)”

A big toothy giggle bursts out of you and you both laugh and dance together like there’s no one watching. There really is no better hype-man than your best friend. She’s always been able to bring out that hidden confidence inside you ever since you met.

A few minutes and customers later, you both get caught up in your own chores around the bakery. The same station is still playing low in the background. And the afternoon breeze drifts through the open glass door. It’s a beautiful day. And the mixed sounds of the radio along with the birds and the bustle of downtown Laredo create a tranquil ambiance as you sweep the tile floors.

“He’s late today. It’s almost 2pm,” Mari remarks coyly. She’s in the middle of replacing the filter on the coffee machine when she shoots you a smirk over her shoulder. And you don’t have to think twice about who she’s referring to. Continuing to sweep, you shrug at her comment like it’s not too important.

“I hadn’t noticed,” you reply casually.

You one hundred percent noticed. And each passing minute has been gnawing at your insides since 10am this morning. Wondering when he’ll pop up. If he does, that is.

“He could be getting you a little gift~,” she sings.

“That was only one time,” you remark. “And he’s a busy guy. I don’t expect him to be here all the time.”

“No, you’re right,” she says, turning towards you. “Just when you’re here.”

A single butterfly flutters inside you and you can’t help it.

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching the oven while your mom is out-”

“Oh shit, yeah!” Her face drops and she quickly scurries into the kitchen to make sure the batch of buñelos hasn’t caught on fire. You let out a small laugh at her swift exit. And she says your head’s in the clouds, seriously.

The radio plays another salsa, but this one is a slower tempo. More intimate than the last few songs. You find yourself mumbling the lyrics to yourself as you sweep around the cabinets. With the music, the breeze, and the peaceful breeze blowing at your back, you find yourself closing your eyes and being swept away in your own little world.

Your hips sway to the music, Making sure to keep your shoulders stiff and your hips loose. Slowly dancing to the gentle rhythm. You hold the broom stick as if it’s a handsome partner. One with a hooked nose and broad shoulders.

And as if you manifested it, your partner comes. You freeze in place as a knuckle slowly trails from your lower spine all the way up to your shoulder blades. Your back stiffens in response and a delicious shiver travels up your whole body.

“That little dance… with that dress-,” a familiar deep raspy voice murmurs behind you. “-Is a dangerous combination.”

You hum at his words and a small smirk pulls at your lips. Risking a glance, you look behind your shoulder to find Javi towering behind you. The pale blue polo shirt he wears brings out his summer tan peeking beneath the collar. And his deep umber eyes are shrouded by his signature yellow aviators. Although you can tell how they sweep over your face only to find purchase on your lips.

“And what brings Javier Peña to the bakery today,” you taunt under your breath, knowing exactly how much he loves the way you say his full name. A smile pulls his lips and for a moment his teeth peek through.

“I was craving something sweet,” he answers. He presses a small chaste kiss on your hairline and you melt from the warmth he exudes. Feeling a wave of affection swell in your chest.

This fucking man…

Just when you think things couldn’t get any sweeter, the universe throws you another little treat to savor in secret.

He visits you at the bakery now. Mostly in the mornings when it’s calm and quiet. The first time was the day after his late night phone call. And what a gift that call was. Hearing his voice in your ear in the dead of night, soft and unmasked, not a soul on earth awake other than you and him. You never slept better in your life than falling asleep to the thought of him wanting to see you.

I couldn’t last more than three days.

A flutter hits your stomach just thinking about those words. He keeps saying and doing these little things that make you fall deeper and deeper into his gravity. And today is no different.

“Here, for you.”

He places a white plastic bag with a take-out container that emanates the mouth watering savory scent. No doubt it’s from the grocery store down the street that makes hot food on the side. And you can tell from the smell alone that it’s the same platter he got for you after a very sweet and very stupid argument you had about your eating habits on his initial visit.

“You know, you don’t have to buy me food every time you come here. I’m fine,” you tease him. Unamused, he leans over the countertop and furrows his brows at you.

“What did you eat today?”

“I had a coffee this morning, aaand… I had a coffee this morning,” you answer, failing to list anything else on your fingertips. He pushes the container towards you wearing a stern look on his face.

“Eat.”

“Share with me?” You give him those ‘pretty please’ eyes, knowing they can almost always break through his tough guy stubbornness he likes to put on. Eventually, the barest little smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth.

“Fine,” he sighs.

“Thank you~.”

Opening the container, you’re instantly hit with the smell of the hot food, Yup, same plate. Rice and red beans with pollo guisado. You honestly weren’t even that hungry. But looking at all that delicious food has your stomach growling and your mouth waters as you take the first bite.

“Is this gonna be a normal thing with you now,” you tease him. “Bringing me take out at work?”

“Should I bring you flowers?”

Oof. Arrow through the heart much?

Something warm swells inside your chest without permission, as well as the smile creeping across your cheeks. But you keep your cool, even though your insides are buzzing at the thought of him handing you a bouquet.

“Don’t buy me flowers, Javier,” you tell him as you pass over your fork.

“Why not? You don’t like flowers?”

He knows damn well why. He’s just trying to see how responsive you are to that idea. Because the gesture is so you, and he knows it. What do you buy for the girl obsessed with plants? Duh.

“Every woman loves getting flowers,” you clarify. “But it’d be pretty hard to explain to people where I got them without some kind of idea formed in their head, ya know?”

“True,” he resigns, shrugging his shoulders. “Take-out it is then.”

“How’s Chucho?”

“He’s fine. Restless as usual. He wants to start working on the patio this Saturday. Clean it out, move the plants, replace the furniture…,” he drones.

“Let me guess. He’s stubborn and wants to do everything himself, but you don’t want him to overdo it. And because you’re stubborn, you’re gonna end up taking over while he sits back with a corona, giving you instructions.”

“Basically,” he chuckles, passing the fork back to you. “It might be finished a lot faster with some help,’ he hints. “You could finally plant those pink flowers you picked out.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I actually have plans. There’s this party I got invited to this Saturday.”

The word ‘party’ must set off a red light in his head. Because his eyes immediately narrow on you and he raises a questioning brow from across the counter.

“What kind of party?”

“Relax. I’m not going to some house party to get trashed,” you clarify. Remembering that one time he found you walking home from a ‘party’.

“It’s an engagement party for Anthony Velasquez and um…that one girl from the Gaméz family… Sofia! My family got invited. It’s gonna be lots of kids, couples. Dancing and drinking. I can’t wait.”

“Oh, that party,” he remarks like his memory is jogged. “I think my dad got an invite to that in the mail like a month ago.”

Excitement washes over your face and your eyes gleam at him like two precious gems. Your thoughts run away with the idea of finally having the opportunity to dance with him. Something you’ve wanted to do ever since you met him if you’re being completely honest.

“So you’re going,” you ask him with eagerness.

“Hell no,” he tsks.

Fuck…

“What? Why not?”

“Two hundred people crammed into a room with loud music isn’t something I get excited about. I think I’ve had my fill of parties for the rest of the year.”

Well shit. There goes that idea.

“It’ll be fun. There’ll be lots of good food and music. It’s formal so you get to dress up.”

“It’s formal? Nah, fuck that. I’m not dressing up for a party.”

“Come ooon. It’s an engagement party. It'll be nice.”

“It’s in a high school gym,” he counters.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

You sigh dramatically, picking through the rice with your fork.

“That’s too bad,” you say. “I picked out such a cute dress to wear. Thin straps, high slit on the side, tight around the waist. I’ve been dying to wear it.”

“Sounds beautiful,” he remarks, unpersuaded.

You roll your eyes at him, exasperated with the conversation so you decide to stop pushing. If he doesn’t want to go, then you can’t make him.

“You’re no fun,” you taunt.

His eyebrows raise in challenge when you say that.

“I’m no fun?”

Javi leans in just an inch closer and for a moment you think he’s bold enough to kiss you where anyone on the street can look in and see. His eyes glance between each of yours then down to your lips before he murmurs in the small space between you.

“You’re gonna tell me you didn’t have fun in my truck the other day?”

Heat rises to your cheeks. At his gaze. At his raspy voice. At the memory. But two can play at this game. Swallowing the dry lump in your throat, you challenge back.

“Well…” You lean forward another inch. Drawing his attention down to where your finger brushes over his hand. “...maybe I need a reminder.”

There’s an exchange of heat when his eyes float back to yours. And you’re hoping they tell him exactly what you’ve been craving. Without breaking eye contact, his hand twists to take hold of yours. Softly running his thumb over your knuckles. You almost think he might give in. But at the last second, his eyes cast downward. His throat bobs as he swallows and you think he’s swallowing something he’d rather not tell you.

“I can’t today,” he says softly, almost as an apology.

The temperature between you immediately switches. He doesn’t let go of your hand, but he doesn’t explain further. And to be honest, you’re not sure if you want him to. But your smiling face remains the same. Although it feels a bit heavier now.

“Kay.” You pick through your food, hoping to seem indifferent. “Well, if you’re not busy after you’re done with the patio, you should still stop by the party for a little bit. Just to say hi.”

You offer him a shy smile and to your relief he offers one in return. And hopefully any awkwardness that was there a second ago can be dissipated.

“I’ll think about it,” he tells you. He can be such a loner at times. You hope he can at least stop by, just to get out of the house for a bit. But you also know how stubborn he can be. So you won’t push this time.

“I better head out,” he continues, standing up straight and stretching his shoulders back a bit. “I gotta run some errands, get some stuff for this weekend. I just wanted to check on you.”

“Thank you again for the food. You really didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says with a small smile.

Javi pulls your hand from the countertop up to his lips to press a quick kiss to your knuckles. Making you melt a little inside before he turns towards the door.

“I’m gonna be thinking about that dress all day,” he tells you with a little smirk. His eyes take one last sweep over your body. Heat rises to your cheeks and you smile back. And the urge the tease him wins over you.

“Wouldn’t be a dress worth wearing if you didn’t,” you quip, making him flash that signature cocky smile. He gives you a little wink as he steps outside and you watch him from the as crosses the street to his truck.

Your hands run up and down your arms where goosebumps have risen. Even on a hot August day, it feels like all the warmth in your body left with Javier out the door. Or maybe you just miss the sensation of his hands on you. And now that he’s gone, the thoughts you’ve been forcing back start to creep in you head again.

He’s holding back again. You first noticed it the day he came after that phone call. There was a small distance between you. Is it something you said? Something you did that made him uncomfortable? Confusion swirls inside your gut like a whirlpool. This thing you have is new territory for you, there’s nothing to compare it to.

Maybe you’re being too much.

Maybe you’re being too needy.

Maybe it’s too much too fast.

You try not to give energy to the small part inside of you that fears the worst. But the thoughts have a life of their own. That it’s possible that maybe he’s changed his mind. Or even worse, that maybe he’s gotten what he wanted already and that there’s no need for things to go further.

No.

He’s not like that.

The visits, the flirting, the way he’s opened up to you. He’s given you plenty of little assurances here and there. To think that stems from nothing doesn’t seem right. But internal doubts are almost always irrational.

No commitments. That’s what you agreed on. Remember that. It’s just a boundary set for both of your sake until you know for sure what you want. Boundaries are good. For now, you’ll be patient. You meant it when you said that seeing him was enough. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t getting a smidge frustrated.

Well… maybe a little more than a smidge.

Your sneaky hookup in the truck was almost two weeks ago. You’ve been to the ranch a couple times since then. But all you’ve managed to get in that time were a few flirtatious touches and some stolen kisses when no one was around. Obviously keeping your distance when Chucho was present. Although he’s no fool. In fact, the first one to figure it out would probably be him.

“You two have more chemistry than a science lab.”

Turning your head to the side, you find Mariana standing in front of the kitchen door. Her hand is planted on her hip as she stares at you with a devious little grin on her face.

“Were you watching us through the window that whole time?”

“I mean, yeah, duh. What kind of question is that? Like of course I would.”

You roll your eyes and laugh to yourself. At least she’s not obvious about it. She walks over to stand next to you and leans on the countertop as you pick through your food again. The appetite that was so strong before now has left the building.

“Is he coming?”

You scrunch your nose at her, shaking your head. “Nah,” you say. “Not really his thing.”

She hums in acknowledgment, waiting another beat until she goes on.

“So… Leaving early today?

She gives you a knowing look, like she’s half expecting you to run out and follow him. If only you were. But you play along with her little game. Raising a brow at her not-so-subtle question.

“Why would I be leaving early?”

She shrugs her shoulders, and a small smirk rises as you both look out the window.

“No reason.”

When Saturday arrives, the entire house is buzzing. Everyone is running around, getting dressed and finding lost shoes around the house. Your dad has been searching the house in circles for the past hour trying to find the right gray tie with his suit because the other gray ties aren’t “the right gray”. Your mother has been dressed and ready for the past thirty minutes, impatiently sitting on the couch with a cup of tea. If there’s one thing she hates, it’s definitely being late to anything.

“Valeria, ven aquí! Vamo a arreglar tu pelo! (Valeria, come here! Let’s fix your hair!” You shout outside the bathroom, hoping she hears you as you finish the last touches of your own hair. Leaving a few loose pieces around your face while the rest is tied back in a low bun. Your sister's quick footsteps approach the bathroom until she shows up at the door. Wearing a cute mid length sunset orange dress.

“Finally,” she huffs as she walks in, simultaneously fixing her earrings. She plops down on the little wooden stool in front of the mirror and flips her long black hair to her back. Taking the comb in your hand, you brush out the wavy strands and face her in the mirror.

“We’ve got ten minutes, what are you thinking?”

“Ummm…. Can you do like two French braids that go into one braid? And do that thing with the gel on my edges?”

“Can do.”

“Thank you~.”

Reaching down into the cabinet, you grab the gel and spray bottle and start sectioning your sister’s hair.

“Oooh, that’s super cute,” she gasps in the reflection, referring to your satin dress. “When are you gonna let me borrow it?”

“Yeah, I’ll leave it in my will just for you,” you quip.

The navy blue porcelain style roses climb all around your bodice, complemented by the cream color underneath. The neckline is low enough just to tease the appearance of your cleavage, but it’s the high slit on your right thigh that feels more daring. You decided to add gold hoop earrings to the outfit to match your thin gold chain. It’s a dress you’ve been dying to wear for a special occasion for so long that you’re surprised it didn’t have dust on it when you plucked it from your closet.

Suddenly, your brother, Daniel, comes out of the woodwork. Leaning against the door frame as he buttons his dress shirt.

“Can you help me with my hair next?”

“You snooze, you lose. I’m busy,” you say as you spray your sister's hair with water. At the same time, Vale digs through her makeup bag, trying to get her face ready.

“Vale doesn’t need her hair done. She was ugly before, she’s gonna be ugly after-“

“Dani, shut up!”

“Vale asked first. Go ask mom,” you reiterate as you part her hair in two sections.

“She’s busy picking out another suit for dad cause he couldn’t find his tie. Come on, pleeeaaase.”

“You’re both hopeless,” you sigh. “Ok. Fine. Sit over here.”

He scurries behind you, taking his seat on the toilet. Him and Valeria bicker and crack jokes as you work some gel in her hair. Roasting each other like they always do. Usually you act as the mediator between them, but you mostly laugh at how creative their nonsense gets. As soon as you finish Valeria’s hairstyle, she decides to switch places with Daniel instead of leaving the bathroom.

Dejavú hits you. It wasn’t that long ago you were doing things like this for your siblings for school. Making sure they leave the house looking clean and with food in their bellies when your parents would leave early for work. A large part of your childhood was taking care of your younger siblings. Only three years separate you from Vale. And five between you and Dani. But a lot of the time, you felt so much older when it came to looking after them.

They’re not the same little munchkins that used to run around the house in your dad’s work shirts. Now they’re their own people now, living their own lives outside of just your family. The past three years you’ve only seen them around the holidays or a few days in the summers while you were in college. What was so constant for so many years became so scarce when you left. What’s it going to be like when you move out? You shoo away the thought.

No. It’s not going to be like that.

You’ll still be around town. They’d be more than welcome to come visit, wherever you end up. You’ll still be close.

When you finish fixing Daniel’s hair to his liking, you take a moment to look at all three of you in the mirror. Taking a mental picture to remember how you all look in this time of your lives. Your lips start to curl and you can’t hide it.

“What are you smiling for,” your brother asks, slightly disgusted.

You fake a sniffle like you’re about to cry and give them both a sad little smile in the mirror. Clutching the comb to your heart.

“When did you two beans get so big?!”

“Oh, booooo! What the hell?!”

“Shut up! You’re so laaaaame,” they both yell at you.

“Oh boo yourselves! You little monsters,” you argue. But laughter still takes over all three of you. “Go! Get out of here, we’re gonna be late!”

“Alright, alright!”

“We’re going, geez.”

Sticking your head out the doorway, you yell at them as they walk out of the bathroom and into the hallway.

“Um, you’re welcome?!”

“Thank youuuu,” they both yell behind their shoulders.

Punks…

•

He’s starting to crack.

At the moment, Javier is washing the leftover dishes in the sink. But ever since he finished clearing out the terrace this afternoon, he hasn’t been able to sit still. He did an oil change on the truck, put air in all the tires, took the trash out, worked out, took a shower, and picked up dinner. His body aches everywhere it can possibly ache. But his brain is still running a mile a minute.

After doing the dishes, he goes a step further and cleans the rest of the kitchen. Looking for anything left to do to keep his mind occupied. When he doesn’t find it, his eyes drift to the opposite end of the kitchen. Finding the invitation hung by a magnet on the fridge, staring at him. Mocking him.

Save the date!

Anthony & Sofia

Join us for our engagement celebration!

Saturday, August 10th, 1996 at 7pm

Premier High School Gym, Laredo

He’s not gonna do it. He’s not gonna give in. But it doesn’t help that for the past three days he can’t stop thinking about that small, disappointed look on your face in the bakery. It’s getting harder and harder to hold himself back. But he couldn’t resist seeing you, hearing that cute laugh, and feeling that big beautiful smile warm his skin.

And that little yellow dress. Fuck…

It was his fault for starting it. He should’ve known you’d say something to tease him. But you making that little remark about reminding you how ‘fun’ he can be nearly crumbled his resolve. Having you again, feeling your skin on his, and watching you fall to pieces as you come was not only enticing, it was his fucking drug. And right now, he’s having withdrawals.

That being said… he couldn’t take you up on it. Or the last few opportunities that came up these past couple weeks. Sure, you both kept flirting. You kept teasing him like the little siren you are. He could see it in your eyes. That hunger. You probably saw it in his too. Fuck, he’s so hungry. But he just… can’t.

If he gives in and takes you on another ‘drive’ or has a quickie with you against a wall or over a counter somewhere, the guilt that’s been already pooling in his gut would come up to choke him. Guilt about touching his best friend’s daughter, guilt for hiding you. But mostly, he feels guilty for not giving you more.

The first time you had sex, you had left his house with so much uncertainty between you. And the second time was only ten minutes, in his filthy truck, in the middle of nowhere. What kind of man would he be if he had the girl of his dreams all to himself and never bothered to take her to a damn bed? You deserve more. God, you deserve the world.

How he used to be… Who he used to be with women… feels completely wrong with you. And it’s starting to put everything in perspective for him.

No commitments.

If he was a younger man, he wouldn’t have a problem with that at all. In fact, he would’ve preferred it. But now, it’s not enough for him. There’s an itch inside him to always make you smile and laugh and give you everything you could ever want that he hasn’t felt in decades. Possibly, ever.

He doesn’t know how to tell you that, though. Does he really want to take that plunge? Do you? Would that scare you off? It sure as hell scares him. Or maybe you’re not looking for this to be anything more than sex. For some reason, that bothers him. A lot.

This must be what limbo feels like. Somewhere in between a fling and a relationship. Neither one or the other yet somehow both. Maybe it’s karma finally coming to bite him the ass for all his philandering over the years.

“You ok?“

His fathers voice calls from the entryway, snapping Javi out of his thoughts.

“What?”

“You seem… busy,” Chucho says. Walking towards the fridge and grabbing a beer from inside. “I don’t think you’ve even sat down in the last 5 hours,” he teases.

“I’m fine,” Javi states simply. Crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the counter. “Just… doing chores.” His father nods, understanding but not really buying his excuse.

“M’kay… Well, take a seat on the couch when you’re done.” He turns back to head back into the living room, leaving Javi to himself again.

He’s probably right. It could be that doing all this is only stressing him out more. But he knows if he sits still, there won't be anything to distract him from going into a downward spiral. And the rest of the night would be spent trying to avoid those fucking awful nightmares.

Looking across the room, he looks into the laundry room adjacent from the kitchen. Noticing the laundry basket sitting on top of the washer. His body moves before he even thinks twice about it. There’s a pile of clothes he left on the bathroom floor from his shower. He might as well take care of that.

Javi collects the dirty laundry from his bathroom and any loose clothes around his room. When he walks past the living room again with a full basket, his father notices him heading to the laundry room and does a double take.

“The hell?”

“What?”

“You’re doing laundry? Now?,” he chuckles.

“Yeah?”

“Are you capable of relaxing for more than two minutes?”

“Pop, I’m just getting things done around here, ok,” Javi exasperates. Hoping to drop the conversation.

“Suuure,” he drawls. “‘Cause the two dishes in the sink had to be cleaned right this moment. Just come here and sit down. Relax for once.” Javi rolls his eyes closed.

“Fine.”

He leaves the basket on the floor beside the kitchen entryway. Taking his seat at the end of the couch, Javier props his arm on the side of the couch and rests his head in his palm. The tv drones on with some show about a group of friends in New York. The more time passes, the more his hand starts to jitter. And every few seconds his eyes can’t help but glance at the clock on the wall as it reaches closer to 7pm.

He tries to focus on the show. But it’s honestly boring him a bit and after a few more minutes, he’s retreated back inside his head with the same thoughts still spinning around.

You must look so beautiful tonight. That dress you described sounded irresistible. He wonders how irresistible. Enough to grab some male attention, no doubt. And they’ll probably be drinking, too. What if some drunk little prick sees you and decides he can’t keep his hands to himself? That thought alone makes his skin crawl with rage.

Javier lets out a deep, frustrated sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose where he can feel a headache forming underneath. Jesus Christ, he’s losing his goddamn mind. It’s fucking absurd how troubled he is about this. He’s never had to concern himself with these things before. There’s nothing even remotely close he can compare this to.

They have to know how to dance. If they don’t dance with me, that’s a deal breaker.

Dancing is the perfect excuse to get close together.

That’s what you said, right? Is that what you were trying to ask him? You were trying to tell him that you want him to come? That you wanted more? And his dumb ass said no to you?

What if there’s a man there willing to give you that?

Someone who’s not afraid to give you more?

Fuck…

Before he knows it, Javi bolts from his position on the couch and his feet are moving before he has time to change his mind. Marching down the hallway and into his room, he switches on the light and goes straight for his closet.

Fuck.

Swinging open his closet, Javi grabs the first suit he sees, along with a matching tie and a pair of dress shoes. He snatches a dress shirt from his dresser and starts to get ready as fast as he can. By the time he’s done combing his hair in the bathroom, he’s so worked up there might as well be steaming blowing out of his nose.

Jesus, there’s going to be so many people there. People shaking his hand and bombarding him with questions. It’s going to be so goddamn loud and overstimulating. But fuck it, he has to go. He’s already lost you once. He won’t lose you again.

Walking out of his room and down the hall, he heads into the kitchen. Snatching the invitation from the fridge door and stuffing it in his pocket.

“I’m going out. I’ll be back late,” Javi mentions as he enters the living room again, straightening the tie around his neck.

“Where to?”

“Just out.” His non-answer is so overused with his father that it’s practically transparent from all the wear it’s seen over the years. Chucho glances back at his son from the couch over his shoulder.

“Just… out,” he repeats.

“Yeah…,” Javi deadpans.

His eyes narrow on Javi like he can see the sweat that’s about to form on his forehead. Taking notice of his change of clothes, hair and shoes. Clearly seeing that he’s not dressed for picking up the fucking milk. A knowing little smirk curls his lips and he chuckles to himself as he turns back to the tv.

“Ok,” he says, bringing his beer to his lips.

“What,” Javi asks, irritation already boiling inside him.

“Nothing.”

•

It’s funny how you can be so excited for an opportunity to go out, and once you’re in the middle of it, it ends up being the last place you want to be.

The Velasquez and Gaméz families spared no expense planning this party and it shows. As you understand it, this whole party was planned as a sort of wedding reception to celebrate in Laredo, while the ceremony would take place in Antigua, Guatemala. Where the rest of the Gaméz family, who couldn’t make the trip to the states, could still celebrate the marriage.

A two in one wedding. Just thinking about how much one wedding would cost makes your head spin. You wouldn’t even know this was a high school gym with all the decorations they splurged on. Except for the basketball court lines on the floor of course.

Every dinner table is adorned with long white linen cloths and crystal centerpieces. Emerald green drapes cover all the walls and hundreds of artificial candles are littered all around the room. Creating a beautifully dim ambiance. A truck load of white and pink roses decorates every table, chair, and walkway. The buffet line of Mexican/Guatemalan food stretches most of the wall on one side of the gym. And there’s even a tamborazo band despite already having a DJ booth at the far end of the dance floor.

You don’t even know where to start with the gift table…

When you walk in with your family, you place your “collective” gift bag upon the growing mountain of presents and find out which table you’re assigned to. It’s getting close to 8pm but people have been pouring in since 7pm, and this party is supposed to last well into the night.

Usually you’d jump at the opportunity to attend something like this. But now that you’re here, all you want is to put on some pjs and curl up in bed with a movie. And maybe your phone will ring with a call from him. That sounds like a perfect night actually.

“Ay mira que bonitaaa (Oh look how prettyyyy),” your mother gasps as she takes your fathers arm around hers. “Tienen los mismos colores que tuvimos para nuestra boda! Bellísima! (They have the same colors we had for our wedding! So beautiful!)”

She leans her head against his shoulder, her long black hair draping over his charcoal suit jacket, and he leans over to place a quick peck on the crown of her head. Something pinches inside your chest. But seeing them be a couple and not just your parents every once in a while always makes you smile.

Not to be a sap, but you miss him.

For a fraction of a moment, you entertain the thought of Javier being the one to kiss the crown of your head with your arm wrapped around his. That lonely feeling creeps back up again and you crave the warmth of his eyes on you. It’s been getting worse. Worse than when you were just friends and you admired him from a distance. Because now that you’ve gotten a taste of him, the struggle to keep this casual is becoming more difficult with each passing day.

These…feelings you have for him are growing fast.

Maybe too fast for the pace you’ve set.

You blink away the thought. Quickly returning to reality. It’s just you being needy, you rationalize. It’s being here at this engagement party and seeing your parents and other couples. That’s all it is.

You do a quick scan to the tables, looking for a couple of familiar faces. After a minute, you spot Mariana and Carolina setting a couple of plates of food down on their table, wearing the most gorgeous floor length purple dresses. Mari's dress is a deep violet while Caro’s dress is a bright lavender.

“Ooh! I found them. Come on,” you call out to your sister.

You both walk over, making sure to stay behind their line of sight. And just as Mariana has her back turned, you strike with a surprising tickle to her ribs.

“Boo!”

“Ay, puñeta!”

She jolts away from your hands. Her waist long twisted braids whip along with her head to see both of you greeting her with wide smiles. She immediately takes notice of your outfits and her jaw goes slack. Her eyes glimmering with amazement.

“You two look so good. Shut the fuck up.” She swats at her sister's shoulder, who’s digging for something in her purse on the table. “Caro! Look, look!”

Carolina pats down her dress when she rises, simultaneously dropping her jaw and gasping as she turns to face you and Valeria.

“You look sooo preeetyyyy~,” she cries adorably.

“Us?! You two look amazing,” Valeria adds.

“Oh girl, we’ve been getting ready since this morning. This hair does not play,” Mariana chuckles.

You all laugh and talk amongst your circle and admire each other's outfits. And for a little while, you can enjoy yourself. Staying here won’t be so bad with your best friends here. Especially when the music starts. If you can make this feeling last for the rest of the night, you’ll be golden.

“Where’s the bride and groom,” you ask.

“They have their own table waaay at the front over there,” Carolina points out. Anthony Velasquez is standing near the table, shaking the hands of a few visitors. Sofia Gaméz, however, is sitting by herself with a sour look on her face while she nurses a glass of champagne.

“Why does she look so pissed,” Vale asks. Carolina leans into the inner circle you’ve created, lowering her voice a smidge.

“Five minutes before you guys got here, the suegra came in wearing a white gown. Pero like, white white, with a little train y todo,” There’s gasps between you and your sister, equally shocked.

Yikes.

“No mameees (No waaay),” Valeria exclaims within the group. “I would be fuming if I was her.”

“I knoooow.”

You turn towards Mariana, fully expecting to see her ‘scandal face’ on. But curiously, her face is almost plain. She’s barely even listening to the conversation. Her eyes are focused towards the entrance and when they grow wider you start to get curious.

“Um, hello? Hi? What are you looking at,” you tease her.

“Didn’t you say playboy wasn’t coming tonight,” she says.

“He’s not, he doesn’t do big parties like this,” you explain to her, waving away the thought.

“Tonight he does.”

Fucking what?

You wrinkle your brows in confusion and she gestures to turn around with her eyes, trying not to be obvious.

No way…

She’s messing with you. She just wants to see how you’d react. You casually turn to the side to look over your shoulder. Scanning through the crowd of people still arriving. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat as you search and search. And sure enough, standing tall amongst the crowd, he’s there.

His dark brown hair, handsomely styled to the side like a dream. He looks around the room, searching for a familiar face. Wearing those cute worried brows over his soft eyes.

Javi…

He came. He said he hated these kinds of parties and he came. Why did he come? For you? When the crowd clears a bit, you get a glimpse of what he’s wearing and your stomach flips.

Holy shit.

A suit. He’s wearing a suit. Navy blue jacket and slacks, perfectly tailored to his frame, with a cream colored pocket square and pair of shiny black shoes. The matching blue tie hangs over a tight white dress shirt that nearly makes you drool. You’ve never seen him dress up before. It makes you wonder where he’s worn it before. Work, maybe?

The color compliments him gorgeously. Blue, like the darkest sapphire you’ve ever seen. Blue, like the sky just before the darkest time of night. Blue like… like…

“Oh my god…”

Mariana’s voice cuts through your daze and you lock eyes with her the moment she faces you again. Her next words, bringing a wave of heat to your cheeks.

“You match.”

•

Despite the surprise visit from Javi, and a very brief moment to freak out, the night has gone on exactly as you predicted. You danced and ate to your heart's content. The music was on point the entire night as well as the plethora of food. You and your sister would dance to all the cumbias. You danced with your dad to the norteñas. And Mari would take you out for all the salsas and merengues.

You even managed to drag your brother out for a dance, although his enthusiasm was less than willing. But you’ll be damned if Dani gets interested in a girl someday and he doesn’t know how to dance with her. By the time the song ended, he was more than eager to join his group of friends in the corner again.

After a while, your feet are threatening to break off your damn legs with all the dancing you’ve put them through. Looking around the party, you see that all your usual partners are already taken. Carolina shows Valeria the steps for the bachata that just came on, and Mari is glued to a guy on the dance floor. Even your dad has taken your mom out for a dance.

Walking over to the side of the room, you ask someone behind the makeshift bar for a drink. An older man you assume is a relative of one of the families grabs a bottle of champagne from the cooler and pours you a flute glass. Turning back around, you find your table amongst the sea of white linens and notice Javier, sitting alone with a beer in his hand.

You smile to yourself. Such a wallflower. You’re pretty sure he’s sat at that table all night. Granted, he was talking to your parents most of the time. And a few other people had come up to say hello and shake his hand. But he’s barely moved from that spot except for grabbing a drink.

Walking towards the table, you soak in his image. His tie is removed, and the top buttons of his dress shirt are undone, exposing his tan skin and his sharp collarbone. The deep blue suit he wears hugs his broad frame like a lover as has been doing things to you all night. He’s currently peeling the wet paper off his modelo bit by bit. And by the look on his face, you can tell he’s tense.

Now that you’re thinking about it, he was tense when you first met. Trying to escape the chaos of the quinceañera when you offered him your lighter. It makes you wonder why these kinds of gatherings make him nervous. Does it have to do with his anxiety? Or perhaps his old job? Whatever the culprit is, your heart goes out to him. And yet, it still makes you wonder why he decided to come at all.

“Hey, stranger,” you call him as you take your seat at the opposite end of the table. He glances briefly towards you then back at the dance floor. A smile tugging on the side of his lips.

“Hey, stranger,” he repeats.

“Having a blast?”

Javi hits you with a look like ‘you’ve gotta be fucking with him’ and you both laugh under your breath.

“It’s alright, I guess,” he answers. His eyes float over your body, from your legs up to your shoulders and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling like an idiot.

“You weren’t kidding about that dress,” he tells you. A hint of flirtation riding on his voice.

“Oh, you like it?” You chirp as you swing a leg over the other, making the slit of the satin dress run higher up your smooth thighs. “You know, I’ve been dying to wear it for so long. Now, I can’t wait to get out of it.”

The subtle flex in his jaw when you say that fills you with satisfaction and you have to hide your smirk behind another sip from your drink. He does the same.

You’re both drawn to the dance floor and the swarm of people the move to the music in unison. You’re especially drawn to the couples. The way the women press cheek to cheek with their partners. The men’s hands placed on the small of their back, keeping them close and leading their steps. You see their smiles and their laughter. How open they can be…

You look away, leaning your arms on the table and glancing down to your drink. An unusual feeling pinches inside your stomach. The same feeling when you saw that crumpled phone number that day in the truck. And just like back then, you refuse to name it. Because if you do, it’ll open the door for more pain.

Circling your finger over the rim of your glass, your eyes float back to Javier. His gaze turns back to you and a shiver tingles up your spine. You give him a small smile and shift your eyes back to the crowd then back to him. Hoping to convey the question you’re afraid to ask. His jaw muscles flex and his eyes fall downward. Your mood starts to wilt, already sensing what he’s going to say.

“I know what you’re about to ask. And the answer is no.”

“Why not?”

“Not here.”

“I didn’t think you were so shy,” you tease, hoping to brighten up the conversation.

“I’m not,” he denies, plainly.

“Come on. Just one?”

“I can’t dance with you.”

Hurt winds its way through your gut. And your cheerful expression slips off a bit.

“You don’t have to be so cold about it,” you remark.

“I’m not-,” he starts then leans forward a bit to lower his voice. “I’m not being cold. I’m being realistic,” he explains. His eyes glance at you for a moment but they can’t stop glancing around the room as if someone else could be watching. “There’s way too many eyes here. I could care less what people say about me. But I won’t have people talking shit about you.”

Who the hell cares?

That’s your first instinct. But it’s not as simple as not caring what people think.

Javier knows first hand what it’s like to have your reputation questioned. Even you had somewhat of an opinion of him before meeting him. It may be a big community, but it’s a small town. And word travels fast. You can’t even imagine what it’s been like for him. Half hero and half playboy.

So you keep the thought to yourself. Because despite how much you don’t like it, he has a point. There’s a time and a place. And it’s not here or now.

“It’s just one dance Javi…,” you say timidly, but there’s a tinge of disappointment riding on it that you’re unable to hide. His jaw locks again, and his eyes are stuck looking down at the table instead of facing you.

“Not here.”

There’s a moment where you wait for him to add something else. Hoping he looks at you, changes his mind, and tells you that you're worth the risk. But the moment passes, and he still can’t look at you.

“Fine,” you resign, leaning back in your seat, finishing your drink. “I’m tired anyway.”

You watch the crowd again, trying to push past the argument. But there’s a wall that has sprouted between you now. Something you hoped would never happen again. Didn’t he come here for you? He wasn’t even planning on coming before you mentioned it to him. You understand his concerns, really, you do. But he doesn’t have to be an ass about the issue.

But what pisses you off more is that you know he’s right. People talk before they have any tangible evidence but they’re suspicions would be enough to start a forest fire. It shouldn’t be this way. It should be common sense to assume that most gossip is probably false. Then again, common sense isn’t really that common anymore.

Taken out of your thoughts, you notice a young man approaching your table. He wears a tan Stetson on his head. Dressed in a black dress shirt opened at the top, black slacks with a silver buckle, and a pair of shiny brown leather pointed boots so clean you could probably eat off them.

You narrow your eyes to decipher the person's face in the dim light. And after a second or two, your face lights up when you finally recognize him. He does the same as he waves and calls out your name.

“No waaay!” You stand up from your seat just as he approaches you with open arms and a wide smile. “Benny! It’s been forever! How are you?!”

“Forever and a day,” he jokes, giving you a tight hug. “I’ve been good. I missed you guys!”

Benito “Benny” Velasquez. Youngest out of three brothers, which are all either married or engaged by now. Leaving him to be the young handsome bachelor of his family. You’ve seen him only a couple times since high school since he moved to Dallas. Usually at big parties like these.

You’ve always known him to be a pretty good guy, keeps to himself mostly. In high school, he was always nice to everyone he met, never leered or made any passes at you. You even helped him keep a secret once.

“How’s it feel to be the last single sibling in the family, huh,” you quip.

“Heyheyheyhey, I’m working on it, alright? You look great. You’ve definitely changed. I can’t put my finger on it but you definitely look more grown since the last time I saw you.”

“Ugh. Can I give you a list of people to explain that to, please?”

“No seriously! I mean, you practically look like you’re glowing.”

“Ah stop, now it’s too much,” you laugh.

Behind you, someone has cleared their throat loudly, interrupting your small reunion. Benny looks behind you and you look over your shoulder to find Javier with his brows knitted, glancing back and forth between the two of you.

“Oh. Benny, this is my um… my friend, Javier Peña. Javier, this Benny. He’s the groom’s younger brother. We all went to school together.”

Benny sizes Javi up from head to toe, then extends his hand over to him first. Flashing him a charming smile.

“Hey man, how’s it going?”

“Hey.” Javi puts on a thin smile and you can tell that he’s trying so hard to keep it on as he gives him a firm handshake. A nervous smirk threatens to pull your lips and you bite it back down.

Well, this outta be good.

“Anyway, I came over because I’m pretty sure you’re the only person at this party I haven’t danced with yet.”

You almost let your mouth speak ahead of yourself. Nearly telling him that you’re tired from dancing almost all night. And truthfully, since this has been the only opportunity to talk to him in almost a week, you’re not ready to leave Javi’s side just yet. But he seems to be stuck in one of his moods right now. And the opportunity that’s presented in front of you is far too great to pass up.

“Is that right,” you ask him. “Well, let’s fix that then.”

“Vamos (let’s go),” he says with a charming smile.

“Didn’t you just say you were tired,” Javi chimes in. There’s an annoyed expression on his face. But his eyes are burning so hot they might combust.

Holy shit… is he jealous?

“I have a second wind all of a sudden,” you tell him wickedly as you take Benny’s offered hand. Letting him guide you to the dance floor. Before you leave though, you clocked the way Benny gives Javi a little wink and you smile to yourself.

Oof, that oughta piss him right off.

The dj plays a cumbia that brings another wave of people from their seats and on to the floor. Benny places a hand on your hip and takes your hand in his. Pulling you close to him as he starts to lead.

“Your friend, huh?”

“Shush.”

The music plays and everyone moves in a coordinated chaos. Letting the music take over their bodies and sway to the melody. You let Benny guide your steps as you both move in unison. He’s always been a great dancer. So even if you happen to miss a step, he immediately saves it with a turn or spin. Moving your body with such a flow that it’s like second nature to him.

Bailen como Juana la cubana!

El ritmo que se siente sabroso

Como jugo de manzana

Bailen como Juana la cubana

Un paso pa' delante

Y un paso para atrás pero con ganas…

Your hips sway from side to side like they have a mind of their own. When his hand nudges at your hip, you spin. And when he pulls your hands, you press your body against his. Following all his cues to the rhythm of the music.

From an outside glance, the dance seems intimate. Sensual even. But to you, it’s empty. It’s fun to be able to dance with someone so skilled. But that’s all it is. Just a good dance. There’s no emotion behind it that goes deeper than acquaintance.

“Is he looking,” he whispers in your ear.

Just as Benny turns you both, you take the opportunity to glance over his shoulder. You don’t even have to look. You can feel the heat of his gaze from across the room. But you find him anyway. Even from a distance, your eyes lock on to each other. His amber eyes have grown dark. Partially shrouded by his deeply furrowed brows. Rage burns behind his cool expression. And oddly enough, it’s such a turn on for you.

“He’s totally looking,” you whisper back.

Once the dance is over, you and Benny go your separate ways. He picks up another dance partner from the party while you decide to head to the bathroom outside instead of back to your table. If Javi was in a bad mood at just the suggestion of a dance, then he must be livid after seeing another guy's hands on you.

Something in your stomach twists. After being in a room with over 200 people, having a moment to yourself allows for all your emotions to crawl back in your head again. You hate this distance between you. Feeling like you can’t reach out to him honestly makes you sick. You’re in the dark about where this is going and you’re scared about what the light will reveal.

And the fact of how you shouldn’t even be feeling these feelings for each other wraps everything in one big fucked up bow…

You take a good long look at yourself. Noticing how a frown has settled on your face and your eyes are starting to look red. Releasing a deep sigh, you try to release some of the tension stuck in your lungs. After you finish washing your hands, you try practicing your smile. Hoping it passes as genuine for anyone who passes by you.

Pushing the door open, you straighten out your dress and start to walk down the dim hallway back to the party. But just before you turn the corner, a tall dark figure makes you stop in your tracks. It’s Javi. He stands on the opposite side of the hallway with one hand in his pocket while he smokes a cigarette. The small red ember glows over his face as he takes a drag.

He turns to the side and notices you standing there. Immediately, your heart leaps into your throat and you freeze. The silence between you is so thick you could slice it with a knife. There’s so much you want to say. So much you want to ask. But all you can think of is…

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he breathes.

The warmth in that one word alone sparks hope in your gut.

You lean back against the cold concrete wall, deciding to stay in the shadows. For a good minute there’s nothing but quiet. Only the distant echo of the party fills the void. You’re not sure if you’re waiting for him to speak or he’s waiting for you. But eventually, the silence is almost too much to bear. Finally he gives in and speaks first for both your sakes.

“Second wind, huh,” he says in a teasing tone, giving you a small smirk.

Unable to hold it back, a smile cracks over your face and you laugh to yourself.

“You’re funny,” you chuckle under your breath. He cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“Why am I funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just…I didn’t take you for the jealous type.”

“I’m not,” he says casually, shrugging his shoulders.

“Oh no?” You cock an eyebrow at him, not buying his bluff.

“Not in the slightest.”

“Is that right,” you ask, voice dripping with sarcasm.

He brings the cigarette up again but stops just before meeting his lips. That signature cocky smirk crosses his face and you ache everywhere.

“Why would I be jealous when I know you did it for me?”

Asshole…

“That’s a bit presumptuous of you,” you tell him plainly, looking away from his eyes but still feeling the heat of his gaze on your skin.

“Yeah, it is,” he chuckles, blowing out a gray cloud. “Doesn’t matter though.”

Now you’re getting a little pissed. He’s playing this game like he’s the one in control when it was your idea in the first place. You have him caught, not the other way around… Right?

“It doesn’t?”

“I don’t have anything to worry about. He can’t do anything for you. Because he’s just a boy.” Javi’s eyes wash over you and his smirk pulls a little higher, as if a pleasant memory just came to mind. “And you already know what it’s like to be with a man.”

“Careful, Javier,” you warn him sweetly. “You might give a girl the wrong idea.” He blows a small laugh through his nose at that, shaking his head.

“Such a tease,” he goes on. The tiny red glow on his cigarette, illuminating as he takes another long drag. “Moving your ass like that, making me watch….” He pauses for a moment like something just became clear to him. “You just wanted me to follow you out here.”

“It worked, didn’t it? Isn’t that why you came to this party in the first place.”

His jaw clenches when you say that. He cocks his head curiously to the side and you mimic his movement. Giving the illusion of innocence, but you can tell he sees through it. Like he always has.

“Brat,” he breathes.

“Jerk,” you murmur.

Several beats pass in silence. But it doesn’t take long after that until you both start smiling at each other. You know as well as him what you really want. It’s the end goal of this game you’re both playing.

Javi glances briefly around the corner before flicking his cigarette butt to the ground and taking broad steps straight towards you. He backs you up around a corner to the darkest part of the hallway. Keeping you both hidden from the world.

His hands come up to cradle your head in his palms the second he reaches you. Then swiftly, he finally pulls you into him. Pinning you against the wall with his body and taking your lips in an open mouthed kiss.

It’s long and steady and it burns your entire body to a crisp. He groans softly against your mouth when he brushes his tongue against yours, as if there’s hot steam escaping his lungs. The shift in his mood is palpable, like all his inhibitions and self control just dropped to the floor. And there’s just him.

Your lips devour each other like they haven’t touched in ages. Leaving trails over each other’s mouths, cheeks, jaws. You’ve always been a lip gloss rather than a lipstick kind of gal, and thank fucking Christ for that. Because if you were the latter, Javi would be half way covered in red by now.

Your hands grip onto the sides of his suit jacket. Pulling him tighter against your body, wishing you could just melt together and never separate. He pushes his thighs between your legs to separate them, and you wrap a leg around his in response. Grinding your hips against him where you can already feel his hardening cock press against you.

Javi’s right hand leaves your face. Gliding down your body and squeezing your breast on the way down. Making you whine against his mouth with every caress. His hand finds the sliver of exposed skin on the slit of your dress and dips beneath the fabric. Running his hand up your outer thigh to your hip, pausing, then curiously pulling away from the kiss.

“You wanna tell my why the fuck you’re not wearing any panties?” His breath is hot against your mouth, and his raspy voice only makes you crave more of him.

“The lines,” you pant. “They show up under the dress.”

“Jesus, you’re gonna kill me,” he groans just before crushing your lips to his again.

Your hand drags down his stomach, teasing his self restraint. Slowly but surely, you glide your hand further down and he all but shudders when you palm his hard on over his dress pants. He inhales deeply and exhales another deep groan against your lips. The pulse in your clit throbs and you need him so fucking bad it’s unbearable.

Without leaving his lips, your hand moves back up to undo his buckle. But something makes him pull away from your lips and snap out of the fog you’ve both made. His hand wraps over your wrist, pulling it away from his groin and pinning it to the wall. You whine in response but when you look at him clearly, his expression has twisted into something painful.

“Not here,” he huffs.

“Please,” you beg.

“Not. Here,” he says again, firmer.

Something cracks inside your chest. And there’s a mixture of frustration and longing that threatens to overflow. Making the tears start to swell and everything is so fucking confusing. This hot and cold from him is making your head spin.

Not here.

Not today.

Not you.

Tears sting your eyes and you bow your head down, not wanting him to see your face if they decide to fall. Every breath that was filled with heat now feels an inch closer to a sob. All the confusion, the loneliness, and that familiar fear of not being good enough rising along with them.

“… do you still want me?” Your voice is small and broken and you hate it. You hate how vulnerable you are right now. But you need to know. You need a clear answer. He tries to face you, but you can’t bear to face him. Not like this.

“What?”

Your eyes float back up to meet him, but they’re not strong enough to stay. Only catching a glimpse of his torn expression.

“If… if you changed your mind about me, just say-“

“Stop.”

He dips his face in the crook of your neck, trying to control his breathing some and now you’re afraid. Afraid he’s going to pull away and confirm everything you’re afraid of. You shouldn’t be doing this. Not here, not now, not at all. Anyone can turn the corner and catch you. But right now, all you care about is him and whatever storm is surging inside him.

“Chiquitita…,” he finally whispers, although his tone is anything but gentle. “I want you more than anything. Just… not here. Not against this wall. Not in my truck. The next time I have you is going to be in my fucking bed. Where I can take my sweet time with you and not have to look around the corner every second.”

Your pulse quickens and you feel his hold on your hip tighten. He carefully takes your cheek in his palm, gently guiding you back to face him. The expression he wears is caught somewhere between longing and agony. There’s no hiding the flush in your cheeks or the tears welling in your eyes, but there’s something intense in his expression that feels mutual.

Yearning.

Desire.

Fear.

“You’re not a fling. You deserve more,” he goes on. “And I know if I so much as touched you in there, I wouldn’t be able to hide a damn thing from anyone in that room. So don’t mistake me holding back with me changing my mind.”

Whatever is compelling him to pour out to you right now, let it never run dry. This is the man you know. The Javi beneath all his layers. This is the man who makes you laugh and remembers everything you say. Who makes you feel remembered and special.

You’re stunned. Completely thrown off guard by his sweet sentiment. To think that he was drifting away from you now sounds utterly ridiculous in your head. Only fueled by your own insecurity. You only wish he would have told you sooner.

You lean into his touch. Savoring the warmth from his hand against your cheek. Releasing a sigh that shakes as it leaves your lungs.

“You really do pick your moments, huh?”

“I’m trying,” he assures you. Giving you an apologetic smile.

Without permission, a stray tear falls when you blink. His thumb wipes it away and it makes everything inside of you burn for him. Craving the connection again, you lean forward to catch his lips again in a soft, tender kiss. And he returns it, letting you know he’s here and he’s not going anywhere.

Soon enough, hands are roaming again, tongues softly brush together, and the heat is building again. Only this time, it’s softer. More tender. Maybe it was his words or how long you’ve been apart. But something about this growing emotional intimacy between you makes you need him now more than ever.

You’re not sure if he means to do it, but the hand that rests on your bare hip glides between your legs, like instinct. A compulsion to make you feel good that’s beyond rational thought. You whimper against his lips when the pads of his fingers find your seam. Finding out how hot and slick you are for him.

“Fuck…,” he pants, leaning his forehead against yours. “You want it that bad?”

You nod softly in his hold. Your hand comes up to tangle in his hair and you swear you feel him shiver under your touch. You caress his leg with yours, pulling him deeper into you.

“I miss you.”

His hips buck slightly against you at your words. Trying to resist the temptation to change his mind and take you right now. You know he wants to. He knows it’s wrong. But you keep falling into each other’s gravity. It’s a constant pull neither of you can deny. And when his eyes lock on yours again, you know he’s done resisting that pull.

“I need you to keep quiet,” Javi breathes, just inches away from your lips. “Can you do that for me, chiquitita?”

You give him a quick nod.

“Yes.”

Fuck yeah, you can do that. Hell, he could ask you to get on your knees and beg for it and you’d do it. You’d do anything just to be close to him right now. But when his hand parts your wet lips, you’re already struggling to keep your word.

It takes everything in you to stifle the moan in your throat when two thick fingers push inside your cunt. A tiny cracked moan comes out against your own will, and luckily he stops it in its tracks. Crushing his lips against yours again as his thumb starts to rub tender circles over your clit.

He’s slow and steady. Deliberately teasing your control with every stroke. His breath is hot against your skin, burning its way to your core and his energy shifts into something more carnal. When he starts curling his fingers against your walls, you’re dying to cry out at how perfectly he does it. He knows exactly how to unravel you.

“You think that little shit could make you feel like this, hmm?” He breathes the words against your temple, making you writhe beneath him.

“N-no,” you choke.

“Speak up.”

“No,” you say again, desperately trying to keep your voice low.

“No. You’re mine. Only mine.”

You are.

Completely, entirely his.

It’s not just his attention or how well he fucks you that drives you crazy for him. It’s how possessive he can be. Not in a shitty, controlling type of way. But to know that this is exclusive. That no one else gets to touch what belongs to him. You’re his. And it sends shockwaves through your whole being.

“I’m all yours,” you whimper.

Javi curses through his teeth. And out of nowhere, he pulls his hand out of you. You gasp at the sudden emptiness and you’re so dizzy that you don’t even register how he’s bundled your dress to the side, exposing you completely, until he starts to kneel to the ground. His eyes roam everywhere. Climbing from your smooth legs all the way up to your pussy.

“Javi,” you pant.

His gaze rises up to you. And for a moment, there’s a look in his eyes that’s almost pleading. Asking you for supplication that pulls at your fucking heart. But then, his eyes shift into something sinful and the barest little smirk pulls at the corner of his lips.

“Be a good girl for me and cover that pretty mouth.”

And he dives in.

Your hand has never flown to your mouth as fast as it does at this moment. Javi’s mouth envelopes your pussy, licking and sucking along the seam, and your knees fucking buckle when his tongue brushes your puffy clit. He hums against you, sending vibrations through your entire body and it’s almost too much to bear.

Jesus, you really shouldn’t be doing this in five inch heels.

Your free hand takes hold of his shoulder as you try to keep yourself upright. While his free hand takes firm hold of your thigh, occasionally squeezing the soft flesh. You muffle your sharp moans against your palm but each pass of his tongue is pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Javi focuses on your clit, flicking it with the flat part of his tongue with devastating accuracy.

“So fucking perfect,” he pants against you. Kissing and sucking exactly where you burn most. “How could I not want this.”

You shudder when he plants a kiss on your clit while he simultaneously slides the same two fingers back inside you. Curling and coaxing out your moans, almost like a challenge to see if you actually can hold them back. He eats you up like a starved man at a banquet and it’s everything you’ve been craving these past couple weeks.

Your legs struggle to keep you standing straight. But god, he feels so good. His tongue feels like heaven while his fingers feel like sin. He groans against you as he licks a long trail from your entrance to your clit. Making you shiver with pleasure.

And then he looks up at you… burning you with the heat of his gaze, sending you over the edge.

Your eyes roll back closed, letting yourself get swept away in the current as the wave crashes over your body. Your body trembles over him and you cry out. Muffling your sharp moans against your palm, even covering your nose to prevent any noise from escaping. Whatever sound that does come through makes Javi smile against your wet cunt.

He guides you through your descent with gentle nips and kisses. By the time you’re finished, you’re both panting with heat. He carefully takes his soaked fingers out and your whole face turns hot when you watch him clean them off in his mouth and hum at the taste.

It’s only when he rises again that your legs finally call it quits and buckle. He’s quick to catch you just before you fall and he instantly wraps those strong arms around you. You wrap yours around his shoulders and let him hold you up against the wall as you both catch your breath.

“I got you… I got you…,” he breathes heavily against your ear. “You did so good.”

Eternity could pass by and it still wouldn’t be enough time to stay like this with him. Relishing in the post-orgasmic bliss in his embrace and tender words. Your chests rise and fall in unison against each other. And you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating inside.

“I meant what I said that night,” he says softly. Placing a palm to your neck and tracing his thumb along your jaw. And without even knowing it, carefully unwrapping all your fears layer by layer.

“I want you… just you.”

Forget skipping a beat. Your heart might’ve just given out entirely. His words, his deep expression, his hushed weary voice. It’s all so overwhelming. There’s no going back from this. You want him too. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything as much as you want him.

“I want you, too,” you tell him.

“You have me.”

With those words, he leans into you. Diving into the comfort of your shoulder as his lungs release a deep sigh of relief.

“And if you ever let another man touch you, I swear to god, he’ll end up in pieces,” he grumbles, but there’s a hint of humor in his voice. “You got that?”

“Mmmm I don’t know,” you play. “I kinda like seeing this guard dog side of you.”

He groans your name in exasperation. Clearly not wanting to even entertain the idea.

“Kidding, kidding. Don’t go killing anyone on my behalf,” you giggle.

“Then don’t-“

The moment is swiftly interrupted by the sound of the gym door opening. Briefly blasting the noise from the party before closing, followed by the sound of heels clacking on the concrete floor Instinctively, Javi presses his body further against yours. Hiding you between the wall and his broad frame in case anyone should turn around the corner. The bathroom door opens then closes, and after a few seconds of silence, the coast seems clear. For now.

“You should go back inside,” he whispers into your hair.

“You’re not coming?”

“I’m gonna head home. I’ve had enough ‘partying’ tonight. And I can’t exactly go back there like this.”

“Right,” you breathe, noticing his tousled hair. Then glancing down his chest to find the very obvious tent set up in his slacks. “Riiight.”

You both take a couple minutes to fix your appearance before turning around the corner. Just in case, Javier takes the leads in front of you. But after seeing that the hallway is empty, he takes your hand in his. Savoring every last second you’re able to touch each other before you absolutely need to part.

Just as you pass the bathroom though, the door swings open. Your heart leaps into your throat when you see Mariana walking out the door and you both drop each other's hand like a hot pan. Her eyes land on the two of you and nearly pop out of her head when she realizes who you’re with. All three of you stand frozen, unable to speak let alone begin to explain why you’re alone together in a dark hallway.

Her wide eyes shift between you and Javi. Then slowly her expression changes into a devious little smile. And she brings a hand to cover her eyes, pretending she’s not seeing what she’s seeing.

“No veo nada (I didn’t see anything),” she quips before she turns to leave, disappearing around the corner and heading back to the party inside.

“I… might’ve told Mari about us,” you tell him, already wincing at what his reaction might be.

“Yeah, I kinda figured you would,” he says with a smirk.

“But she won’t say anything,” you immediately add. “I mean, she won’t tell anyone. She’s not a gossip. Well, actually yeah, she loves gossip. But not about you! She’s never- she wouldn’t-“

Javi cuts you off with your name mid sentence. Chuckling at your word dump as his hand comes up to caress your chin.

“It’s ok,” he says softly. “She’s a good friend to you. You trust her. And I trust you.”

I trust you.

The words make you shine from the inside out. Javier is trusting you, which is no small thing. Just like him opening up to you and coming here was no small thing for him. So from this point on, you have to trust in him, too.

“M’kay…,” you breathe.

“Can I call you tonight?”

“Midnight,” you specify. “I’ll be up.”

“Midnight…,” he recites.

He closes the distance one last time as he pulls you into a slow, soft kiss. Your hand caresses his warm neck, wanting nothing more than to stay connected to him. But you manage to separate. As you drift away from him, he drifts in the opposite direction as you say your goodbyes. And every cell in your body yearns to walk with him.

But then, just before you pull the gym door open, you remember to mention something to him. Catching him before he leaves towards the parking lot.

“Oh, and you don’t have to worry about Benny,” you tell him from across the hall. “He’s not interested in me like that.” He turns back enough to raise a questioning brow at you.

“Oh really,” he asks sarcastically.

“I’m positive,” you chuckle. “The type of people he prefers to dance with tend to look more like you than me.”

Javier’s face wrinkles in confusion for a few seconds. But then, realization hits him like a freight train. His eyes grow wide and his cool expression drops. And if it wasn’t for the dim lighting hiding his face, you swear you could see a slight shade of pink rising on his cheeks.

The hand shake, the wink, the roaming eyes, yeah…

“Oh.”

•

Goddamn you.

Goddamn your perfect body, your teasing voice, and goddamn that fucking beautiful dress he couldn’t look at for more than two seconds tonight without feeling his cock swell. He knew he shouldn’t have come. He knew it was a bad idea to be in a room with you and half the town. It was a stupid, impulsive risk. And anyone could have caught you in the act.

But god, is he glad he went.

His old truck cruises down the empty road. The balmy night air drifts through the open windows and the radio is set on his favorite station. Right now, at this moment, everything is good. And he’s glad he has the time to himself because he hasn’t been able to stop smiling since he left the party.

The only one who could ever reach me

Was the son of a preacher man

The only boy who could ever teach me

Was the son of a preacher man

Yes, he was, he was, ooh, yes, he was…

Fuck, he feels good. He hasn’t been in such a good mood since… he can’t even remember how long. What’s missing right now is a good smooth cigarette. And the only reason he isn’t smoking one right now is because he doesn’t want to get rid of the taste of your pussy on his tongue yet.

You’ve taken permanent residence in his head. And he doesn’t mind it one bit. All that’s running through his mind right now is everything you. Your smile, your soft skin, your voice, and most of all, your affection. The fact that you wanted him so badly tonight makes him feel like the luckiest man on the planet. And it makes his brain take turns he’s never even explored.

What would it be like if you went home with him? What if he was the man to walk you inside by the arm? Take the shoes off your tired feet and slip that absolutely stunning dress off you? What’s it like to go to bed with you knowing he’ll wake up next to you in the morning?

He doesn’t know when these thoughts started popping up. It’s probably because it feels more right for you to be in his home than not at this point. But even though he’s dead tired with a completely exhausted social battery, the separation from you feels… unnatural.

He’s trying, he’s really trying here. But he’s starting to lose it. It didn’t matter to him what the guy’s intentions were when he asked you to dance. Seeing that fucker’s hands on you nearly sent him into a murderous rage. All he kept thinking about was how many seconds it would take for him to hit the ground after Javi’s fist connected with his face.

It contradicts every single rule he had built for himself. But the only thought that kept ringing in his head as he watched you on that dance floor was… mine.

Mine.

Mine

Mine.

His possessiveness over you is overwhelming. And if he wasn’t such a dumbass when it came to making you happy, he might’ve read all your little signals correctly. What a master of communication he is. Reading people’s intentions was almost 70% of his damn job, after all.

The whole ride to the party, he kept having to push down this feeling of ridiculousness. But for you, he managed. He had no plan on what he was going to do once he got there, but all he knew was that he needed to show you that he’s not closed off. That he’s still capable of change and that he’s not afraid of this evolving into something more.

Whenever he’s with you, there’s this unexplainable contentment. He likes who he is around you. Who you see him as. You make him want to do things he otherwise would never try. He’s confident. More calm, less anxious. And, god help him… happy.

You make him happy…

How “wrong” is what you’re doing, really? You’re both mature adults, both single. Sure, there’s an age difference, but it’s not placed on some creepy, misguided urge to feel young again. And besides, it’s not like it’s detached. It feels like more. It always felt like more.

It doesn’t matter if he has any right to take you. He’s taking you anyway. And he can’t lie. If he’s being completely honest with himself, there’s no way he could ever belong to anyone else the way he belongs to you. You’re his.

And he’s all yours.

Every cell in his brain was screaming at him to say ‘fuck it’ and take you in his arms in front of everyone tonight. There’s a possessive voice in his head that wants to tell the world that you belong to one another and no one else should even think about you without his name being associated with it.

But he knows how it is around here. How it’s always been. People will talk.

Part of the reason he got labeled the asshole for giving into someone’s bullshit or not allowing people to use him for the sake of being liked. Living in a small town, where everyone knew everybody, there were always people that would take advantage of someone’s generosity. He never really had a desire to be around popular people because usually the reason for that being usually came at someone else’s expense. And he learned pretty early on that he would not be the one.

He can count on one hand the times he’s been played. Both in his hometown and in his career. And each time, the outcome was still the same. It’s always his fault, he was selfish, and that he’s the asshole. Damned if he doesn’t. Damned if he does. So, fuck it. People can think what they want to think about him. He honestly couldn’t care less.

You, however…

If anyone so much as breathes your name the wrong way, they’ll have to face him first. You are calm, sweet, and so forgiving when it comes to being slighted and he admires that about you. He, on the other hand, is anything but. Anyone who has something ill to say about you can kindly fuck off.

It makes him wonder how things will be for you when everything you’ve done comes out. And the scenarios in his head don’t end well. He’ll think about that another time though. Right now, he’ll enjoy the high he’s riding on for as long as he can.

The headlights of the truck sweep over the house as he pulls into the gravel driveway. He kills the engine and slouches back against the seat. Exhaling a deep exhausted breath. He’s just gonna go home, shower, call you, and hopefully sleep through the night. And if he’s really lucky, he might even have a nice dream about you and that dress.

Yeah, that sounds good. If he thinks about that enough, it just might happen.

Climbing out of the truck, Javi drags his feet to the front door and notices how it’s been left unlocked for him. Dad. It’s late but the kitchen light is still on from the window, so he might still be up. Walking through the entryway, he locks the door and immediately kicks his dress shoes off his sore feet. Looking into the kitchen, he notices his father is on the phone, laughing with whoever is on the other end.

Once he reaches the living room, he immediately goes for the couch. Throwing himself on top and tossing an arm over his tired eyes. A few moments later, he hears his dad say his goodbyes, hang up the phone, and shuffle over to the living room.

“Looks like all that energy finally burned out,” he says. “D’you have a good time?”

“Yeah,” Javi sighs with a smile. “It was pretty good.”

“Good. That’s good,” he adds, pausing for a moment before he continues. “Sooo… I just got off the phone with your Tía and I’m gonna be going out of town for a couple days”

Javi’s ears perk up. Leaning his head forward to look at his father leaning against the wall against the room.

“You’re going out of town?” Javier asks with slight sarcasm. Raising a questioning brow but Chucho continues to remain somewhat nonchalant about the topic.

“Yep…,” he says with a nod.

“For a couple days…”

“Uh huh…”

“When?”

“Next weekend. I’ll head out Friday afternoon.

Javier cocks his head to the side, sitting up straight on the couch. “That’s kind of short notice,” he says. “Since when do you go anywhere for more than a day?” Chucho sighs, tipping his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Elena needed some help with her will. You know how she’s always changing it. I have to be there to sign some papers. It’s a long trip for one day so I’ll be staying with her for the weekend.”

“You’re going to her? To Waco?”

“It’s not too bad. About a five hour bus ride?”

“Why don’t I take you-“

“No!”

Javi’s brows shoot up and there’s a brief silence between them at his abrupt answer. But Chucho recovers it by clearing his throat.

“It’s fine,” he says more evenly. “Don’t worry about it. Besides, someone should watch the house while I’m gone.”

Watch the house while he’s gone?

The nearest house is a 7 minute drive away. And going into town is another 30. Who’s gonna bother to drive all the way…

You.

You would drive here.

And with that answer, comes a cascade of pieces finally fall into one whole picture. A light bulb moment happens inside Javi’s head. And it takes everything in him to prevent his face from looking shocked.

Holy shit… He knows.

Shock is swiftly replaced with confusion when he tries to tie this all together with what his father is telling him. Why dance around the subject? Why suddenly make up a weekend trip and make sure your son stays home? Why doesn’t he just come out and say what he’s obviously put together?

Then another thought comes to his mind.

Is this… is this a free pass?

Why else would he tell him to stay put if he really does know? Javi’s head is running a mile a minute trying to find answers. But he’s got to answer back now or else he’ll risk everything coming out in the open.

“Ok. Sure,” he finally answers. Deciding to not look a gift horse in the mouth. “Just make sure to call when you get there. Actually call this time.”

“Yeah yeah,” his father tsks. “Just drop me off and pick me up. That’s all I ask.”

“Of course,” Javi agrees.

Shortly after the conversation, his father calls it a night and heads to his room. Once he hears the click of his door closing, Javier checks the clock on the wall. Seeing it’s nearly midnight. And he’s never wanted to run to the phone so fast in his life. There’s a plan sprouting in his brain. And it’s too good of an opportunity to pass.

Two days. Two whole days to spend with you, completely to yourselves. And it’s coming up fast. He’s got to play this carefully though. One slip up could ruin everything. It’s almost too risky to even mention it. But he’s tired of holding back with you. He knows what he wants.

From this point on, it’s all or nothing.

•

Welcome back to ✨Bilingual Basics✨ yaaalll! Let’s get into it 👏🏼

Suegra (Su-weh-grah)

Translation: Mother in Law. There’s a big stereotype for a very specific type of suegra in Hispanic culture. Usually that they’re smothering, over critical, over bearing, protective of their sons, ‘no woman is good enough for her king’ kind of stereotype. Often times they’ll make weddings all about them.

Not mine tho. She’s my sweet little hen and she makes me soup all the time I love her. 💕

Puñeta (Poo-nyeh-tah)

My favorite word tbh. No Puerto Rican vocabulary is complete without this word. It’s a common curse word that I honestly don’t know the direct translation to lol. But it can be used for literally any emotion. Excited, scared, disappointed, happy, sad, angry. Kinda like “damn”, “fuck”, “son of a bitch”. Like an exclamation.

M A S T E R L I S T

T H A N K Y O U A L L 💕

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