Olive K Smoked

Narcos

Nothing That We Need (completed)

This is a Narcos x Supernatural crossover that asks the burning question: Shouldn't Javier Peña being fighting real monster? Story takes place in 1993 with an OFC and is told in 3rd person. See chapter 1 for warnings.

Lost and Found (completed)

Age gap fic with a young (pre-DEA) Javier Peña and an older reader. Don't you want to know why Javi is such a stud in the bedroom? It's because you taught him well. Told in the second person, reader has a history but little to no description. There is a surprise guest in Part 3. See part 1 for warnings.

Written in the Stars (completed)

Just a little drabble. Javi’s a dick, but maybe that works for you. No warnings.

The Wedding (completed)

Another little drabble. Inspired by the wedding scene in Laredo. No warnings.

The Lie (completed)

Drabble based on a request (not a request of me, I stole it). Javi is your ex, but his jealous streak makes it hard (ahem) for him to stay away. See beginning for warnings

Triple Frontier

Alpha (completed)

This is an omegaverse story that combines two stories I've really been wanting to write 1) a female alpha, 2) somebody finally giving those boys some useful fucking direction. Told in second person with no description of reader other than she is AFAB. See Chapter 1 for warnings.

Never Surrender (completed)

Your husband Frankie has a problem. Actually, he has a few. Can you sort through them for the sake of your daughter? This is really a one-shot that got too long so was broken into 5 parts for readability. See Part 1 for warnings.

One Night Stand (still in progress? Who knows, was supposed to be a one shot)

Benjamin Miller should have been a one night stand. So what is he still doing in Frankie's bed? This is a FishBen TF AU. Frankie has some commitment issues, Benny is his usual adorable self. See beginning for warnings.

Closed Doors (completed)

Boy-dad-Frankie drabble inspired by Pride Month.

Rescue Mission (completed)

You haven't spoken to Pope in a year since he dumped you. But when he calls asking for help you agree. Can you rescue your missing friend and find out why Pope left?

Gladiator 2

The General and The Senator (completed)

One shot inspired by this post. General Marcus Acacius and Senator Leto Atreides hate each other. Now if they could just get past that and get to the sex everyone would be happier. See beginning for warnings.

The Last of Us

The Best Halloween Ever (completed)

Written for the Jolabrew + WithCheese coffee shop challenge. You are Tommy Miller's best friend and Halloween is your favorite holiday. This is a one-shot where we see your relationship evolve over the years. Special guests include Protective Big Brother Joel Miller and New Neighbor Tess Servopoulos.

BFD (completed)

You meet your best friend's dad at her birthday party. You definitely shouldn't sleep with him. Definitely shouldn't. This is a twist on the BFD trope. See beginning for warnings.

Texas (completed)

Elena Risbano, the matriarch of the NY crime family, heads to Texas to find out what happened to her nephew. His last known whereabouts are a bar owned by a crime syndicate run by Joel Miller. What she'll find when she gets there is anyone's guess. But Elena is always ready, for anything.

Marcus Pike

A Cupid's Tale (completed)

For the Pedro Happy Hour Challenge. A Cupid's work is never done, but you won't let anyone get in the way of true love for Marcus Pike. No warnings.

Din Djarin The Mandalorian

Again (completed)

This little story is for @beefrobeefcal 's What Could Go Wrong December prompt challenge. Modern day AU. Din Djarin gets life-threateningly competitive about decorating his house. Warnings: Fluff and Din being kind of bad at everything? But we still love him. Relationships: Din x gn!reader, Poe x Finn

Secret Springs Challenge

Coco's Nuts (completed)

A series of stories about the bartender at Coco's Nuts and all of the many (PPCU) lives she touches. No warnings.

Random gif-inspired shit

We can fuck it up together (from a Pedro Pascal photoshoot NOT RPF, Dave York coded). No warnings.

You pause. It's probably the only thing he could have said that would keep you on the line and he knows it. 

"If you are fucking with me, Pope I will close all of your credit cards and donate your life savings to PETA." 

Your heart rate is already thrumming, the spike a clear sign that you don't really think he's dumb enough to make that joke. 

"I really wish I was. We could use your help."

If it was anyone else you might have told him to paddle with his hands. But Benny was the only one who stayed in touch after Santiago unceremoniously dumped you without so much as a single word of explanation. The rest of the guys, Frankie, Tom, Will, they all made it clear they were team Garcia. But Benny, pure of heart, remembers your birthday. Still makes plans with you when he's in town. Never (ever) mentions Santiago by name.  

"Where are you?"

"I'll send you our location through secured server. Get here as soon as you can and bring your gear." 

A moment after he hangs up the door bell rings and your phone buzzes. The address is a two hour drive, you know it well. You can eat in the car. 

The safe house is a shitty looking trailer that nobody would think to look at twice if they happened this far from the main road, which no one does. It was an oft used location to meet at when you used to work with Pope and the guys. Off the book mission the government would deny any knowledge of even if that is where the funding flowed from. It would take someone with your particular skill set to figure that out and you were paid well enough not to look. You park the car a mile away near a commonly used hiking trail. Your backpack contains your computer, an external power source, a scrambler, a signal scanner, and a booster. Plus a toothbrush and a change of underwear. 

You hike through the backwoods, a trail that’s been overgrown a 100 times over but still gets you to where you need to be. Before you’re within 50 feet of the trailer the door opens and Tom is standing there, firearm pointed in your direction.

“Exactly the welcome I was hoping for.”

Tom lowers his gun. 

“Good to see you, Charlie.”

Charlie is a nickname, or maybe a call sign, though you’re not sure you earned that. 

For the first seven months you worked with the guys you were nothing but a disembodied voice on a com giving them assignments and opening doors (literal and figurative) for them. Santiago came up with the name. You were Charlie and they were your angles. It stuck even after you started getting sent on missions with them. Even after Pope started making excuses to hang back after the mission was over. Hotel rooms booked under fake passports that you holed up in for a few precious hours, fucking on squeaky beds and rickety desk chairs. 

“Redfly.”

He opens the crooked screen door wide so you can enter. Inside, Will, Frankie, and Pope are huddled around a small table with a map spread out over it. All three of them look at you. Will is the first to move. To your surprise he wraps you in a hug. 

“Thanks for coming, Charlie. You don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

You nod against his shoulder until he releases you. 

“I’m sure Ben just lost his cell phone in the local brothel. We’ll find him.”

The tight smile says he doesn’t believe that. Neither do you. 

You nod once at Frankie. “Fish.” Is all you say to acknowledge his presence. You don’t look at Pope. 

“So, fill me in.”

One Year Ago

“Confirm your location, over.”

“Alpha team in position, over.”

“Delta team in position, over.” 

“You will have three and a half minutes from my countdown to secure the package and get out before you have company. Coms will go silent. You will have to clear 50 yards from the building perimeter before you have com access again. Does everyone understand? Over.”

One by one they confirm. Pope last.

“See you on the other side, Charlie.”

“Happy hunting, angels. You’re clear in three, two, one, over.” 

The doors to the facility unlock, the cameras shut down, the alarms are disabled and the signal jammer you installed there yesterday triggers, guaranteeing that no one inside the building can call out for reinforcements when they realize the building’s security has just been compromised. However, the security system is on a loop, it pings the other facilities every three minutes. When that doesn’t happen, big men with guns get sent to lock down the building. It takes forty-five seconds. You know because you did a dry run of this five months ago in preparation for this mission. 

You wait back in the safe house, tapping your fingers nervously on a formica kitchen table. The countdown on your computer screen drawing ever closer to zero. The numbers go red and start counting negative. Your foot starts to tap too. 

The thing is, there’s nothing you can do. If no one pings you on coms you have to assume the mission is compromised. Your only course of action is to pack up and get the hell out. There’s no extraction team coming. No back up. No plan B. 

At negative thirteen seconds your com buzzes. 

“Charlie, this is Redfly. Package acquired. All members of Alpha and Delta teams accounted for, over.” 

You take a subtle breath. 

“Roger that, Redfly. Good work, angels. Meet you at the rendezvous, over.” 

Now all you have to do is wait. Redfly and Ironhead will get the package to the drop. Pope, Fish, and Benny will make their way to you, one at a time, each taking a different, circuitous route. 

Pope arrives first. It’s not an accident. 

“We have exactly forty-five minutes before Benny shows up,” Pope says as he drops his gear by the door. He wastes not a single minute of it. He backs you into one of the bedrooms, pulling off your clothes, his need to feel your lips on his the only thing slowing him down. The adrenalin of a mission always drives his need for you, though, recently, you’ve been noticing something more. 

“Full disclosure,” Pope says as he spreads you legs wide on the bed. “The condoms I have with me are expired.” 

His fingers drag through your center. You arch, needing him closer even as he slides a finger inside you. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t notice until after I was on the plane and then it was too late.”

“It’ll be fine,” you assure him. And even if wasn’t you’re not sure you would care at this exact moment. 

He leans over you, your thighs bracketing his hips. Dark eyes drawing closer to you until his tongue is in your mouth. He grinds against your with his sheathed cock. Your pussy flutters, desperate to be filled. 

“Are you sure?” He asks, forehead pressed against yours, his cock teasing at your entrance.

You wrap your fingers around him and guide him in. 

He lets out a sound half way between a groan and a laugh. 

"I guess that's a yes." 

"Thirty-two minutes, Pope," you say after looking at your watch.

He thrusts into you, holding himself just above your chest. The kiss is soft, almost impossibly slow, like he might just do this for 32 minutes. And if you weren't on the clock, and if your body wasn't burning with need, maybe you would let him take all the time he wanted. Instead, your hips move underneath him, muscles contracting and squeezing. He follows your tempo, your bodies colliding, the only sound in the room the meeting of your flesh and the rocking of the wood-framed bed. 

It's been just over a year since you started this, whatever this is. At first it was simple. Pope was a flirt, incorrigible, really. One night, after a few drinks, when the rest of the squad had gone off to bed, you just gave into it. Into him. It was easy, uncomplicated. He never changed the way he treated you when the others were around. Followed your instructions to a T when on mission. And then, when it was just the two of you, he would take you apart. He would look at you like no one else existed. All of the focus that made him a good soldier made him and even better lover. 

He finishes moments after you do. He's quick to disentangle himself and throw away the condom, being careful to bury it in the garbage where attentive eyes won't see it. Before you can sit up to get dressed he's pushing you back into the mattress and wrapping his naked body around you. 

"We still have ten minutes." 

He skin is warm on yours. The rough edges of his jawline scratch against your neck where he has buried his face. Easier to deny the reality of your situation, you suppose. You let him stay. Would let him stay longer if it were just up to you. But you don't want the complication of the others finding out. Because if the higher ups find out they'll assign you to a different team. And while you don't think any of the guys would tattle on you (well, maybe Will) you don't want to put anyone in a compromising situation. 

So this thing, whatever it is, stays between you and Pope. 

"I want to see where you live." 

You lift your head, forcing Pope to look at you.

"What did you say?" 

"I want to see where you live," he repeats. 

You let your head fall back to the mattress and you stare up at the ceiling. 

"It's not very impressive. A small house on a block of other small houses." 

"Yeah, but it's yours and I want to know what its like." 

You have follow up questions, but you know Benny will be here any moment.

"Okay." 

Pope sits up, a smile on his face like he just won an argument. He kisses you again before he gets up to get dressed. You watch him, amazed at how he looks the same but somehow everything has changed.

Present Day

You rub your eyes, the strain behind them from staring at your computer screen for too long finally forcing you to pause. 

"Here." 

Pope sets a mug down next to you.

"I don't think I can consume anymore caffeine." 

"I know, it's herbal tea." 

You look up to find his worried face staring back. 

"Thank you." 

Its the longest conversation you've had since you arrived three hours ago. 

Ironhead did most of the talking since he seemed to have the most information. Ben had taken a job with a crew, private ops, lead by James Butler. You all knew Butler from previous work, which is how you all knew he is a pompous, self-righteous, asshole who couldn't plan a mission to the grocery store for snacks. Will begged Ben not to go but Ben shrugged him off.

"Butler's not so bad. Besides, it's a simple snatch and grab. Could probably do it with a team of monkeys."  

And maybe that is what he was working with because within 24 hours of touching down in San Jose, Ironhead had lost contact with him. According to him, he should have been state side yesterday. 

Will had looked right at you. 

"You know Ben, he wouldn't go radio silent for no reason." 

You were bound to agree with him. Ben would find a way to call, if for no other reason than to keep his big brother from flying down to Costa Rica and searching for him. 

So you got to work. The private ops company who was running this shit show was a joke. You were behind their firewall in under ten minutes, you know paranoid gamers with more secure setups. You got mission plans, lodging, travel arrangements. Shit, this idiot had made a dinner reservation for the night they arrived under his own name. You tracked their coms to a small town in the Limón Provence right on the border with Panama at the edge of the national forest. 

You talked them through all of this information and set up a satellite loop to continuously ping their last known com signal. Then the four of them bent over a map, started making plans and calling in favors. You kept working, searching for out of phase communications and hidden packets of data in otherwise unsuspicious messages. 

"We're going to head out. We got a lift from a private not far from here. Thanks to you, we know where to start." Pope was still standing over you.

You put your tea down and close your laptop. 

"I'm coming," you say as you stand.

 Pope looks back at Will. 

"We got it from here," Ironhead assures you. 

But you've already made up your mind. You start putting everything into your pack. 

"He has a 24 hour head start on you. I can get you closer if I'm down there." 

Pope opens his mouth, the objection clear on his face without his words. 

"I'm coming," you say again. "Ben would do this for me." 

And maybe you emphasize Ben just a little bit. Sure, none of these assholes would save you from Panamanian gun runners, but Ben would hack his way through miles of untamed jungle for you. This is the least you can do for him.

Pope looks at Ironhead one last time for reinforcements. But Will just shrugs and hikes his bag on to his back. 

"Let's go."

One Year Ago

You never thought much about your home. Considering how much you travelled for work, sometimes it felt more like a hotel then a home. But now you're looking at it through Pope's eyes. The photos on the wall of you and your sister. Another one from when you were a child with both your parents. A painting hung above the couch that you bought at a gallery in Oaxaca. A small statue made from white jade from a bazar in Marrakesh. The crochet throw blanket that your grandmother made when you were a baby that adorns the back of your couch. All of it paints a life. Your life. 

Pope takes all of it in. Studying, carefully. It's been almost six weeks since you were last with him on a mission. You thought he would forget about his request to see where you live. A post-sex moment of softness that he would quickly regret. But two weeks later he called and held you to it. 

Now you realize, with him here, you're not sure how to act. Outside of this moment you've always been sneaking around. A countdown ticking the minutes away until one of you had to leave. On to the next mission, the next job, the next gig. 

Finally, Pope turns toward you, sly grin on his face as he wraps his arms around your waist. 

"Do you have a good takeout spot near here?"

His lips find your neck, his tongue darting out to lick the sensitive skin there.

"There's a good Thai place." 

The words are soft, half spoken as your body reacts to Pope. He pulls you flush to him, palms sliding down to your ass.

"Excellent, then we have no reason to leave this house all weekend." 

He smiles as he maneuvers you down to the couch, tugging off your shorts and underwear as he goes. Without another word he settles himself between your legs, gripping your thighs to open you wide so he can takes his mouth to your center. He works slow, teasing his tongue through your folds, taking the time he never gets to on missions. He builds you up, your muscles burning with tension as you try to move underneath him, but his hands grip you tight, refusing to give you control. 

"Pope," you whine, the sound desperate and undignified. 

"Don't call me that," he whispers against you. 

The request is so quiet you almost miss it. Your head is so foggy with desire it takes you a moment to understand what he wants.

"Santi," you say. Soft and aching. You fingers grip his hair, thick and black between your fingers. 

He growls, the sound vibrates against you. You're so close. You beg him, hips desperate for just a little more friction until finally he gives in. His tongue moving fast against you until you break. A cry that sounds like his name. He laps at you as you shudder through your orgasm. 

He crawls up your body, sucking on the soft skin of your stomach and breasts until he arrives at your lips. His are swollen and wet, his tongue tastes like you as it enters your mouth. 

There is a part of you that wonders why it took so long to do this. Be together outside the confines of the mission.  But there’s another part that wonders why this is happening at all. 

The first time you slept with Pope you were sure it would be a one time thing. Men like him aren’t interested in relationships. They just have a scratch to itch and you were the closest set of finger nails. You were okay with that. But each time he came back into your orbit he found a way to be alone with you. And each time you would learn a little more about each other. He told you about his sister and his two nephews who never gave her any peace. He told you about meeting Frankie in basic and the bond they shared over deadbeat dads. He told you he loved to cook, his favorite movie was A Few Good Men, he could play the guitar. 

Without you realizing it was happening, you were falling in love. 

Present Day

The cargo plane gets you to San Jose. From there, Ironhead has a van waiting for you to take you south toward the Panama border. It’s a windowless transport van without seats in the back. Out of chivalry, they offer you the front seat. You tell them it makes more sense for Pope and Fish to take the front since they’re both fluent in Spanish and you have work to do that might arouse suspicion if you’re up front. They agree with you logic. Or they’re just used to doing what you tell them from previous missions. Either way, you find yourself on the uncomfortable floor of a transport van with Ironhead and Redfly for the next three hours. 

You ignore their silence and get to work. Piggybacking off a wireless network you check back into the search algorithm you initiated before you left the States. 

“I got something,” you say as you begin to download communications between two outposts of the syndicate Benny and his crew were going after. You run them through a translation app so you can read them first. 

You tap on the sliding door that separates the front of the van from where you’re sitting. 

Pope opens it, turning to look at you. 

“I’m sending you encrypted communication. I have a translation, but there's dialect and I don't know how accurate it is.” 

Pope nods at you.

“What does the translation say?” 

Ironhead is leaning forward. You know he’s nervous. You know because the expression on his face is one you’ve never seen before. 

“I want Pope and Fish to confirm—"

"Charlie, tell me what it says.” 

You look up at Ironhead. His steel gray eyes hold your gaze. 

“It confirms Benny’s unit infiltrated the compound. But it sounds like they were expected and ambushed. Out of the five unit members, two were killed and three are being held. There’s no information on their status other than they’re alive.” 

You says this as clinically as possible. You don’t offer an assurance that one of the two men killed wasn’t Benny. 

Pope sticks his head through the opening.

“I can confirm that’s what it says.” 

Ironhead nods once. “This is still a rescue mission.” 

Redfly squeezes his shoulder. “Damn straight it is.” 

“I think I can triangulate the location of the compound that Benny’s unit is in. I just need a little more time.” 

What you don’t take into account is what riding in the back of a van with no shocks and no seats while trying to stare at a computer screen is going to do with your body. You make it twenty miles before you need Fish to pull over and let you out to puke. 

Redfly gives you water and crackers from his pack when you get back in the van. He even gives you a sympathetic smile. 

“The first time I hitched a ride on a frigate to an undisclosed location in the middle east, I puked for three days straight,” he confides. 

Ironhead laughed at the memory. 

“I thought we were going to have to airlift him out of there with an IV in his arm.” 

“I imagine the open ocean is a bit bumpier than this,” you say, refusing to let yourself off the hook.

“Not really,” Redfly says. 

You appreciate their camaraderie even more when, after another thirty miles you need to pull over again. 

This time Pope gets out of the van. You’re leaning on a tree about thirty feet from the road washing your mouth out with water. 

“You okay?” 

You spit the water out of your mouth.

“Peachy.” 

“We can stop for a bit. Let you take a break. I know these roads are tough.” 

You’re not looking at him. You don’t want to see the pity on his face. Or worse, the condemnation for insisting on coming along just to hold them back. 

“No, I’m fine. We have to keep going. Benny is waiting for us.”

“Benny is tough, he’ll be okay.” 

You know Benny is tough. You know because you ran enough missions with him to know he didn’t flinch. You also know the version of him that would come over and crash on your couch and eat popcorn and watch The Golden Girls with you when you were having a bad day. That version of the man can’t wait for your stupid stomach to get it’s shit together. 

“I’m fine.” 

You turn to head back to the van without realizing how close behind your Pope is standing. You end up walking right into him, already unsteady on your feet. He grabs you to keep you standing. 

“Fine?” 

“Yes,” you say stepping away from him and his grip. “And if I wasn’t, you aren’t they one I’d be coming to for help.” 

You’re surprised with how hard that lands. The hurt on Pope’s face is obvious. He looks down to keep you from noticing but he can’t hide it fast enough. You don’t know why it makes you feel bad. After all, he’s the one that left you. 

One Year Ago

Soft morning light spills out through the crack where your curtains don't quite meet. But that's not what wakes you up. Santi's fingers are tracing slowly down your bare stomach. His fingertips gently pressing into the flesh around your hip bones. The sensation is just enough to makes you sigh and roll sleepily toward him. His fingers continue their caress, so light that you think you might fall back asleep, your face pressed against his chest. But then he says your name, your real name, not the nickname you've become accustomed to answering to. It falls from his lips as he pulls you even closer to him.  

You like the way his voice sounds in the morning. You like the way his skin feels pressed against yours. The way he slowly lifts your leg around his hip and his fingers brush your center. 

“Santi?” 

Your voice is barely more than a whisper. Your hips roll lazily against his hardness, trapped between your bodies. 

“Yeah, baby?”

“Fuck me.”

You can't see his face but you can hear the smile on his lips. 

“Oh, I see. My baby likes it a little nasty in the mornings?”

You nod against his chest, your eyes still closed to the day. 

Santi reaches behind him for a condom. You hear him tear open the wrapper. You feel his hand snake between your bodies. 

Then he’s rolling you on to your stomach and letting his weight press you into the mattress. He drags your hands above your head, trapping them there, wrists bound between his fingers. His hard cock sits nestled between your ass cheeks. It should feel overwhelming. Confining. But it doesn’t. You just feel safe underneath him. You know without a doubt that everything he does will be to make you feel good. 

He shifts down just enough to plunge his cock into your wet pussy. Without pausing he begins hard, shallow thrusts, never quite pulling out, just hammering against that sensitive spot inside you. Your moans are muffled by the pillow your face is pressed into but they're enough to urge Santi on. His pace picks up. His breath is heavy against your ear.

"Pussy feels so good, baby. Wanna fuck it every morning, make it mine." 

Santi's words burn through you. The edge of your orgasm throbbing at your core. Your fingers curl around his, nails digging into his flesh. He squeezes your hip with his free hand, a low growl vibrating off your neck. Your breath is caught in your chest as your muscles coil tighter and tighter until, finally, you snap. The air punches from your lungs and you cry out your pleasure. 

Santi lets out a strangled sound as he follows you over the edge. His body weighs heavy on yours for a moment before he rolls over. 

You turn your head to look at him. He's staring up at the ceiling, chest rising and falling as he pulls in air. 

"Every morning should start like that," he says. 

He looks over at you. The smile across his face infects you. You wish you could start every morning with it also. You swallow down that thought, too sentimental for the moment. 

"You inviting yourself over again?" You ask instead. 

"You love having me here." 

He reaches over and pinches your side. You squeak and move away but not fast enough. He rolls overs and pulls you toward him, traps you against his body and nibbles on your neck. No matter how much you squirm and laugh he won't let you go. 

"You have such a crush on me," he teases. 

You don't deny it. 

Finally he releases you and heads into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. You catch your breath while he's gone. Laying on your back and staring at the closed bathroom door. You still can't believe that he's here. 

After a few minutes he comes out. Something has changed. The smile is gone from his face. He looks at you like he's trying to solve a puzzle.

"Does anyone else live here?"

"No, why?" 

He shakes his head. "No reason." 

He puts on a pair of shorts from the floor, making it clear he's not coming back to bed. 

"Do you want some coffee?" You ask, sitting up. 

"Uh, sure. But then I probably need to get going. I'm shipping out tomorrow." 

"You are?" This is the first he's mentioned it. You thought you'd have at least the rest of the day with him. 

"Yeah," he answers without looking at you. "Official military business." 

"Is it dangerous?" 

You can't figure out what changed in the last few minutes but Santi is acting like a stranger.

He shrugs. "Could be." 

Finally he stops moving around the room. 

"Do you have anything you want to tell me before I leave? You know, just in case?" 

"Jesus, Santi." 

You move to the edge of the bed and reach for him. He lets you take his hand in yours. You look up from his fingers entwined in yours to find him watching you. Dark eyes intent on your face. Looking for something, though you're not sure what. 

"I... I'm really glad you came this weekend. And I would really like it if you came back. Will you be able to call while you're overseas?" 

Santi pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. Whatever he wanted you to say, that wasn't it. 

"Maybe." 

He pulls his hand away from yours and keeps packing. 

"I'll go make coffee." 

"Thanks." 

Standing in your kitchen, rotely making coffee, your throat tightens up with tears. When Santi comes out of your bedroom, dressed and packed, you have to clench your jaw to keep from crying. 

You're not trying to manipulate him, but it does have that effect. He drops his duffle bag and wraps his arms around you, tucking you against him. 

"You know, you can tell me anything. I'll always be here for you, no matter what." 

His words swirl with confusion in your chest. 

"I know," you say. But you really don't. You feel like he's waiting for you to tell him a secret. And you would, if you had one to tell.

"I'll be back in a few weeks. We can talk then." 

He presses a kiss to your forehead and leaves. He doesn't even ask for coffee. 

Present Day

The van gets you as far as it can go. You have coordinates for where you think Benny and the others are being held. 

(Because Benny is definitely still alive). 

But to get there will be an eight mile hike through jungle terrain. 

The conversation from earlier repeats itself.

"I'm coming." 

"No, you're not. It's dangerous just getting there. And once we're there, you have no combat experience." Pope is taking a harder line this time. He's not looking at anyone else for support. He made his decision and that's final. 

Except it's not. 

"I'm not going to storm the castle with you. I'm not an idiot." 

Pope opens his mouth like he might argue that point but you don't let him. 

"I can make the hike just fine, and once we're there you will need my eyes and ears to get you past the electronic security." 

"Its a stash house in the middle of nowhere. How much electronic security are they going to have?" Pope asks. 

"According to this heat map I found? A shit ton." 

You open your computer screen to them and show them an areal view of their target. The building is red hot, lit up from the inside out with a clear electronic fence perimeter giving off it's own signal. 

"Shit, where did you get this?" Redfly asks. 

"That's need to know." 

Redfly raises an eyebrow at you but doesn't push. 

"We get close enough for me to shut all of this down. Then I'll wait quietly and hope I don't get eaten by a jaguar while you guys go be heroes and rescue Benny. Deal?" 

All of the guys look at Pope. He knows he's out numbered. Still, he scrubs his hand down his face letting his palm rest over the dark shadow of a beard that's been there since you first saw him 12 hours ago.

"I hate this." Is all Pope says. 

"Tough titties," you say as you pack up your bag. 

Ironhead can't help the small smile that graces his face. 

"Missed you, Charlie," he whispers as the other are walking ahead. 

"At least someone did," you mumble to yourself. 

When you said you could make the hike "just fine" that was probably and overstatement. But you do make it and you convince yourself you don't slow them down too much. Three hours in relative silence. Just the bird song above your head and the sound of insects chirping from below. Every once in a while you heard something larger that makes you move faster to keep up with the pack. 

You stop when you pick up the signal for the stash house. Everyone one hunkers close to the ground behind a thick outgrowth of trees and ferns. 

The building should be about a fifty yards southwest of where you're stopped. But the sun is starting to get low. You estimate you only have about an hour and a half of sunlight left. And then this jungle is going to get very dark. You try not to think about that and instead focus on getting past the bunkers security. 

You work quietly and quickly. Poking at the firewall until you find what you're looking for.

"Gotcha," you whisper. 

You let your code in through the backdoor and let it loose on their electric grid. 

"Okay, I can't guarantee how long this will work so you better get moving. I'll manage what I can from here."

The guys all check their weapons and their coms. Each one nods at you before they head out. Except Pope.

Pope hands you a small firearm. 

"I was only kidding about the jaguars," you say. 

"I'm not worried about the jaguars. If someone approaches and doesn't identify themselves, you shoot them. And if we're not back in thirty minutes, you run. Okay?" 

He grabs your wrist, turning your hand so he can place the gun there. 

"I don't—" 

"For once, just do what I say. Please?" 

His face is drawn close to yours, his fingers still wrapped tightly around your wrist. For a moment, you think he might kiss you.

"Okay." 

He sighs and then he's on his way, chasing after the rest of the team. 

You look down at the gun and then at the computer screen. You watch as the electrical grid goes down. 

You click on your com.

"Angels, all clear, over." 

Then you sit, back against a tree, computer in your lap, gun at your side, and wait. 

One Year Ago

Santi never called. The only reason you knew he was back in one piece was because you got called for a job with a different team. When you asked why you weren't with Redfly's team you were told they requested someone else on coms. 

It felt like being punched.

The other team was fine but it wasn't the same. They didn't treat you like you were one of them. You were just a machine spitting out code. Nobody gave you a nickname. 

A two months later, Benny shows up at your house. You open the door and he immediately envelops you in a hug, squeezing you until your feet lift off the floor.

You laugh, you can't help it. 

"What are you doing here?" 

"I missed you!" He says without missing a beat. 

You know that's not the reason. 

He looks you over as you let him into your home. 

"They gave us some new nerd. He's lame. Never laughs at any of my jokes. Also, he's not nearly as good at the job as you are." 

You're not sure why Benny is offering this olive branch but you take it.

"Thanks, Ben. It means a lot." 

"So," Benny says, putting an arm around your shoulder and walks you around your own living room like he's looking for something. "How have you been? Feeling okay?" 

You squint up at him, the question doesn't sit right. 

"Honestly? My feelings are hurt." 

Benny stops moving and turns to you. 

"I am really sorry." 

"I don't think you're the one who is supposed to be apologizing. Can you at least tell me what happened? Did I do something wrong or did he just get bored?" 

Benny steps away, his head tilting back. He pushes his hair away from his face and then looks at you with those clear blue eyes. 

"I don't think I can give you that answer." 

"Can't or won't?" 

Benny doesn't respond. He has the decency to look guilty. 

"Look, if you just came here for proof of life, you got it. You're off the hook, you can go now." 

"Hey, hey, hey," Benny reaches out and grabs both your hands. "I really did come here because I missed hanging out with you. Can we be friends? Outside of all the other bullshit?" 

You pause because you're not sure the answer to that question is yes. Having Benny here feels like a reminder of everyone who isn't here. But he is looking at you like you stole his favorite toy so you give in.

"Yeah, we can be friends." 

He smiles wide. "Sweet. Now take me to your favorite bar!" 

You're three rounds in, you've lost count of what Benny's on but you're definitely not trying to keep up with him. 

"I should be better at this," Benny says as he whiffs another dart wide. 

"You really should be." 

Your dart lands on double 20s. You walks to the score bored and close out the circle. 

"That's game." 

"Damn!" Benny says. "You just kicked my ass!" 

You laugh. He looks proud of you. 

"I played this a lot growing up. Unfair advantage," you say with a shrug. 

"I was top of my unit in marksmanship. I thought that would count more in darts." 

He looks genuinely confused and you think maybe Benny's never been bad at anything before. 

"Next time." 

Benny throws an arm around you. "Hell yeah, next time I'm gonna kick your ass."

Benny shares a cab back to your house. You flop down on the couch, tipsier than you've been in awhile. You look up at Ben. You're suddenly struck by a feeling of grief. The missing of a life you thought you might have. With Santiago. Going out with the guys then coming home, just the two of you. Maybe you have no right to grieve something that never really existed. But it makes you sad none-the-less. 

It must show on your face because Benny sits down next to you. 

"Don't be sad," he says as he puts an arm around you. "Please?" 

You wipe your eyes as best you can pressed against Benny's chest. 

"I'm sorry. Stupid alcohol." 

You lean back and find Benny's worried face focused on you. 

His pretty, worried face. Pale blue eyes and dimples that hide at the corners of his mouth. 

Benny's lips press together. 

"I know that look," he says. His tone is light and playful. 

You wrinkle your nose. "Sorry, can I blame the alcohol for that too?" 

"I don't want you to think I'm turning you down..." 

You shake your head. "It would just be revenge sex. That's not fair." 

"I don't think revenge sex will make you feel better in the morning." 

"No, you're probably right." 

You know you should be embarrassed. You just, drunkenly, made a move on your ex's best friend. But Benny is still smiling like nothing weird happened. 

"How 'bout some revenge cuddling and a movie?" 

He opens his arm wide, letting you know where you belong. 

You grab the remote on the coffee table and settle into his side. 

When you wake up the next morning you're in your bed, alone. You walk out into the living room to find Benny on your couch. He opens one squinty eye at you. 

"That couch is not big enough for you. You could have slept in my bed. I would have behaved." 

Benny stretches and sits up. 

"Hey, I said revenge sex wouldn't make you feel better. Doesn't mean it wouldn't have made me feel better." 

He's got a goofy grin on his face and his hair is matted to the side. It's not a bad sight to wake up to. It's just not the sight you want.

"Coffee?" 

"God yes. I feel like I drank a whole brewery last night. Did you beat me in darts?" 

"Twice." 

Benny spends an easy morning at your kitchen table talking to you about everything but Santiago. When he finally goes he hugs you tight. 

"Meant what I said. I like having you in my life. Don't be a stranger, okay?" 

You nod. 

"Thanks, Benny. I really needed this." 

He shrugs as he walks down your front steps. 

"You'd do the same for me." 

Present Day

The sun is getting lower in the sky. The darkness of the jungle settles in around you, a claustrophobic feeling you have to take deep breaths to loosen. The light from your computer screen is looking brighter by comparison and you realize that you'll need to turn it off or risk giving away your location. Before you do you confirm the grid is still down. At least you could do that much for your angels. You look at you watch.

Twenty-two minutes.

The computer sits dark on your lap and the gun sits cold in your hand. You pull your knees up, sandwiching the laptop between your thighs and your chest. Your heart is beating faster. You press the gun between both hands. Then you hear it. 

Movement off to your left, the direction of the bunker. You hold your breath, listening. The sounds is getting closer. Someone or something is definitely moving through the jungle toward you. 

You quietly stand and face the direction the noise is coming from. Squinting in the low light, waiting for a sign. You raise the gun, your finger on the trigger. 

"Charlie?" 

"Benny?" 

Your arms drop to your side and you move as quickly as you can toward the noise. Finally he's close enough to make out. All six-foot-four of him lumbering toward you. He nearly falls into you. Only managing to stay standing with your help. 

"Hey, it's okay, I got you." You help him back to the small clearing where you've been waiting with all of the gear. 

"Where's everyone else?" 

"Coming," Benny says as he sits. "They wanted to clean the place out before they left. Told me to come find you." 

In the dim light you examine his face. Swollen and bruised. But not so badly that he can't offer you a half smile. 

"Fancy meeting you here." 

"Goddam it, Benny," you shake your head but there is no anger in your words. Nothing could replace the relief you feel having him here, solid beneath your finger tips. "You scared the shit out of me." 

"I can't believe you came." 

You can hear movement coming from the same direction as Benny came from. Before you can grab the gun you hear Ironhead. 

"Charlie, you here?" 

"Yeah, and I have Benny." 

A moment later Ironhead, Redfly, Fish, and Pope come crashing through the trees. 

"Time to go," Redfly says. 

You catch the look Pope gives you and Benny where you're seated on the ground with Benny practically in your lap. 

Ironhead wastes no time, he lifts Benny up from the waist, getting him on his feet. 

"Can you walk?" 

"Yeah." 

"Charlie, which direction are reinforcements going to come from?" Fish asks as he hikes his pack on. 

"Behind us. The other base is in Panama, about twenty miles away. If they're on foot we should have a good head start, even moving slowly. If they're using a com I'll pick it up." 

Fish nods at you. "Nice job." He pats your back as he moves to head up the squad. 

You and Pope trail behind him with Ironhead and Redfly in the back helping Benny stay up right.

You're heading back the way you came, not that you would be able to tell. Between the encroaching darkness and the thick of the jungle you would be completely lost out here on your own. The thought makes you stay closer to Pope, even as you keep looking back to make sure Benny isn't far. 

"He'll be fine," Pope says quietly. "Thanks to you." 

"What about the other two guys?" 

Pope looks down. "Didn't make it." 

Guilt tightens your chest. "If I—"

But Pope grabs your forearm. "No. The only 'if' here is if you hadn't helped us Benny would be dead too." 

You look down at where he holds you. He lets go.

"You don't know how much it means to me. To all of us." 

Your gaze is focused on the uneven terrain in front of you but you can tell Pope's attention is on you. 

"I know I'm not, like, one of the guys. But I care about Benny too." 

Pope is quiet for a moment and you think he's going to leave it at that. 

"Are you sleeping with him?" 

"What?" You say too loudly. Your hand immediately comes over your mouth like it can quite the word you already said.

"First of all," you go back to whispering, "you have no right to give a shit who I sleep with. And second of all, no. Why would you even think that?" 

Pope doesn't get a chance to answer. The transponder in your hand starts to beep softly. You look down at it.

"Shit, angles, we have company." The moniker slides out of your mouth without thought. 

"How many?" Fish asks, stopping to let you catch up.

"Two and they're only about a hundred yards behind us and gaining." 

"We must not have gotten everyone at the bunker," Ironhead says. 

"Okay, we're not going to outrun them, so we're going to ambush them," Redfly says. 

Benny hides with you behind a tree about fifty feet away from where the others set up. 

"Why does Pope think we're sleeping together?" You whisper into Benny's ear.

"I might have told him we did once. Just to make him mad." 

"Benny," you hiss his name to match the disappointment on your face.

"Sorry, but he hurt you and it pissed me off. He deserved to feel at least a little shitty about it." 

You sigh. "Thanks, Benny." You kiss him on his bruised cheek. 

"You're welcome, now be quiet and get down." 

Benny pushes you closer to the ground and covers your body with his own. You want to push him off right up until the sound of gunfire rips through the air. Then your body instinctively makes itself smaller and your hands come to cover your ears. You feel Benny press himself against you, covering your head with his hands. 

When it finally stops you find you're shaking, even with Benny's heavy frame around you. He gently helps you sit up. 

"You okay?" 

You nod. 

"Welcome to your first firefight. You did great."  

Pope is kneeling at your side before you can respond to Benny's joke.

"You okay?" He is asking, but he's already got his hands on you checking for wounds like he might not believe what you say. 

"I'm fine," you insist. "Really. We're both okay." 

"Of course he's okay, that asshole is indestructible." 

Pope helps you to your feet but leaves Benny on the damp ground. 

"Tell that to my kidneys. Pretty sure one of them is rattling around loose in there." 

"You'll be fine. Quit complaining," Will say as he helps Benny up. 

"Could we maybe not joke about major organ damage?" 

"We alone out here?" Redfly asks you. 

You look down at your transponder. Silent. 

"So far as I can tell." 

"Great. We still got two more miles to go and it's not getting any lighter." 

When you make it back to the van it feels like coming home. You crawl into the back, sitting up and helping Benny lay down with his head on your lap to make him more comfortable. 

"Do we have a first aid kit?" You ask.

"You wanna play nurse with me?" Benny asks. 

He is smiling but his eyes are already slipping closed with exhaustion. 

"Yeah, gonna start by sewing your mouth shut." 

Benny smile grows shallow as he continues to fall further into sleep. 

You let your body rest against the cool interior of the van. Unlike the trip here your body is too exhausted to even consider getting sick. 

When you wake up the van has come to a stop. The back door opens and Fish and Pope are standing there. 

"We have a place to crash here. It's safe," Ironhead assures you and he gently wakes Benny up and shifts him off your lap. You stumble getting out of the van. Pope sticks his arm out to catch you. 

"You okay?" 

You're getting tired of hearing that question.

"Yeah, legs are asleep, that's all." 

Pope leads you into the small, nondescript house. 

"I'll take first watch," Redfly says. 

"I thought this place was safe?" 

"Everything is relative. Bedrooms are down that way," Redfly says as he takes a seat at the small kitchen table.

"I'll take the couch and second shift." Fish doesn't leave this up for debate as he stretches out on an uncomfortable looking sofa.  

Will keeps his arm around Benny as he guides him into one of the bedrooms. That's when you realize there are only two bedrooms. 

"Come on," Pope says, ushering you into the empty one. 

A single full size bed sits in the middle of the room. Thin blankets and two pillows the only dressing. 

"I'll take the floor," Pope says as he grabs a pillow.

"Don't be an asshole. We can share the bed." 

You tug off your boots and your mud covered pants and shirt leaving you in your underwear and a tank top. You lay down on one side of the bed and stare at Pope expectantly. Finally he follows your lead. Leaving his boots near the door and his clothes folded on a chair. The mattress moves underneath you as he lays down. 

"Maybe we can talk tomorrow?" He asks, staring into the darkness across the room. 

"Maybe we can talk now." 

"You're tired it can—“ 

“Why did you leave me?" 

You hear Pope sigh. He still doesn't look at you. 

"I thought our relationship was one thing and you thought it was something else. I just needed to end it before I..." He sighs again. "Before I fell in love with you. Which, for the record, didn't work." 

You roll on your side and tug at him, forcing him to turn toward you. 

"What are you talking about? I was in love with you. I'm sorry I hadn't said it yet but I thought it would scare you off." 

Pope curls on his side and traces his fingers over your cheek. 

"You didn't love me. Maybe you wanted to but you didn't, not really." 

This makes you mad. Who is he to tell you how you felt? Still feel. 

"If you really loved me you would have told me about the baby." 

"What?" 

"Because if you felt like I felt you might have been excited about the idea. Even if the timing was wrong." Pope squeezes his eyes closed for a moment. "Because I know the timing wasn't great but I would have supported you no matter what decision you made. You didn't even give me the opportunity to prove myself. To hold your hand at the doctor's office. You just—"

“Santi! What are you talking about. What baby?" 

You can see the way his brow furrows at you. 

"Don't lie to me. I saw the pregnancy test in the garbage in your bathroom. I may not be as smart as you, but I know what a positive pregnancy test looks like." 

The whole morning comes rushing back to you. All of his weird questions and the shift in his demeanor. You press your fist against you’re forehead so you don’t punch him.

"My sister. My sister was pregnant. She came over a few days before you did to take the test because she didn't want her husband around when she did it because she already had three kids and they weren't trying for a fourth." 

"Your sister?" He doesn't sound completely convinced. 

"Yes! And if you need proof, she decided to have the baby. You can count backwards from her birthdate if you want." 

"But the expired condom." 

You cover your eyes with your hand as you roll back. 

"I have an IUD. That's why I told you it was fine." 

“But—“ 

“But you're an idiot. Why didn't you just say something to me?" 

"Because I was waiting for you to say something to me! I just thought, that, if you didn't want to tell me that I had to respect that wish. And I tried to but it fucking hurt. That you didn't care about me like that." 

Now Santi is propped up on his forearm and neither of you are trying to be quiet. 

"But I did care about you like that." 

"Then why didn't you call me? It's not like you didn't know how to find me." 

You close your eyes. You don't know if you should be angry, or sad, or relieved. 

"I just figured you were bored with me. People get bored with me. I didn't want to hear you give me an excuse about how it's not me it's not you, so... I didn't give you the chance to." 

"How could I possibly be bored by you? You once built a video game with all of us as players while we were away on a mission for three hours. Your brain moves ten times the speed of mine. If anyone is going to get bored, it's you." 

You open one eye to find Santi hovering over you. His eyes are glassy staring down at you. 

"I would tell you if I were pregnant," you say softly. 

"Unless it's Benny's. Then I don't want to know." His mouth ticks to the side, a smile he can't quite contain.

"I'm not sleeping with Benny." 

"He was just fucking with me?" 

You nod. 

"I had a feeling. He's such an asshole." 

"Hey, that asshole is why I'm here." 

Santi lowers himself until his nose brushes against yours. 

"I don't want to talk about Benny anymore."

"Me neither." 

Santis lips are soft on yours. They press there for a moment, letting you remember the shape of them. Then he's opening his mouth, begging entrance with his tongue. You eagerly open your mouth and let you legs spread so his thigh can can drag between them. You bury a moan against his teeth as his leg moves up and down, your center arching up, desperate for friction. 

"At a minimum, Redfly is going to hear us," Santi whispers against your skin. 

You stop moving. "Do you want to keep this a secret?" 

"Me? God no. I want everyone to know. I don't care if they hear you three blocks away, baby." 

You smile as he kisses you again. 

"I'll try to confine it to this building." 

"You'll have your work cut out for you. I have fucking missed you so much." 

He is pulling your clothes of and settling between your legs. His cock rocks against your clit and he sucks on your nipple. You grip his hair between your fingers, your hips raising. You need him inside you. You drag his face up to yours. There will be time for other things later. Right now you just want to feel him fill you. When he does slide in something in the back of your brain relaxes. A weight you hadn't realized you were holding. The simple feeing of belonging. 

Your legs wrap around his back as he pulses into you. The bed shakes under you, dragging against the wood floor has you both move in time. You don't care about the noise, or who might hear. You just care about the twisting cord in your abdomen that is so close to snapping. 

"Don't stop," you beg him. 

"Never," he says, "never again." 

He rocks into you harder and faster until your nails are scratching down his back leaving red, raised skin. You bury your mouth against his shoulder as your orgasm hits you. He chases his own, holding firm to you hips as he fucks you, spilling inside you and collapsing forward, pressing you both into the mattress. 

You stay like that, holding each other in the warm room, an errant streetlight illuminates part of the bed. Sodium-yellow light highlights Santi’s features as he lifts himself enough to look at you. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I should have given you the benefit of the doubt. I made it about my own insecurities.” 

You trace his eyebrow, his cheekbone, his lips. 

“I think I might have done the same thing. I’m sorry too. From here on out, we share the things that scare us. Okay?” 

Santi nods and nips at your fingers where they rest against his mouth before he settles next to you to sleep. 

The next morning you and Santi emerge from the bedroom to a round of applause from the rest of the angles. 

“Fuck you guys,” Santi says. 

You cover your mouth with embarrassment. But Santi only pulls you closer to his side.

“You have no idea how unbearable he’s been this last year,” Frankie says to you. 

You peek over at Santi. 

“There may be some truth in that.” 

“Just a whiney little bitch,” Tom piles on. 

“Alright,” Santi says with a hand up. 

“Charlie this and Charlie that,” Will says. 

“He just cried. All the time,” Benny says.

You can’t help laughing at their teasing. You slide your arm around his waist and tuck yourself against it. 

Santi doesn’t fight back, he just shakes his head and takes it.

“I’m sure he’s going to be a complete delight now,” you offer. 

The guys laugh at Santi’s expense. Santi’s only response is to press a kiss into your forehead. 

Waiting on the tarmac for your ride back to the States, you rest your head on Santi’s shoulder. 

“My contract is up in six months,” he says. “I’m not going to renew it.” 

You turn to him.

“What are you going to do?” 

“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug. “But I know I’m done doing this.” 

You remain quiet, waiting to see what else is on his mind.

“I do know,” he finally says after a pause, “that whatever comes nexts involves you. If you’ll have me?” 

You nod. “I’ll have you.”