Archive of Our Own

He presses the palm down, right over your belly button. “tan soft.” He says the word in meaning, almost like you weren’t meant to hear it. And slowly, you feel something soften against your back. Something heavy begins to pull in your stomach. Disappointment. You don’t even feel bad about that, really - so you just lessen your floating, make yourself a bit more heavy against Lalo. He huffs with his free arm moving to the edge of the tub. Soon, you try to sink lower, but you feel Lalo holding you to his chest - hands going from your waist to snake across your chest - warm, wet hand having a slight grip on bicep.

You feel warm breaths in your ears. Lalo is loud, confidently so - and again, envy hits. You don’t even feel bad about that, you just laugh - small and just as breathy. “Well, you are older. You’re almost as old as Mr. Fring.” 

Push. You push to be funny, only to find red cheeks as you feel Lalo’s head quickly shift against yours. “You really know how to rile someone up, don’t you?” You feel his smile, and hear the low tone shift. You shudder, and you know for a fact it’s because of the cool air hitting your skin - nothing else. “You find older men handsome, hm?” You that type of girl?” 

That type of girl. That kind of girl. You don’t need the image of your father right now - but those types of words in Lalo’s mouth leaves you trying to move yourself up. But he’s got a hold on you - and another kiss to the side of your head, cartoonishly big and quick. He doesn’t know how he’s hit you in the face with his question. 

And the question before that. You think despite the heavy air making way to your lungs. You can’t really say you have a preference, but if a man is handsome and just so happens to be older - like Lalo, then what can you say?” 

“Sure, I guess.” 

“Ah ha!” His laugh is low and dry against his throat, cartoonish too. “Glad I met you now, then - would’ve been a lot harder to catch you.” 

Like you’re a fish. You laugh at it - hoping Lalo thinks its for his joke. He sighs, more voice than breath - the aftermath of a laugh. “I don’t really care what type of girl you are.” 

“I feel like you should.” 

“Should? What’d you mean?”

What do you mean? “I don’t know much about dating, but don’t people find out what they like in other people before they actually start dating them?” 

He huffs. Don’t people find out what they like in other people before riding their thighs and having a session of phone sex - and having their butt against said thighs in the bathtub?

“Well, I get you’re saying, but that’s not us.” 

You shift. Water sloshes, there are so many questions running through your head that you almost forgotten how you orgasmed in this tub. 

“What’s us?” You really do want to know his answer. You look up, head up against his chin when it doesn’t come quickly - not loud and not Lalo. His hair is still dry. 

You see his eyes widen so slightly. “You...and me - us.” He says it like it wasn’t an answer he had to think about. “As you can see Princesa, from our...what’s the word?” Lalo mutters something twice in Spanish. “Whatever, what we’ve been going through, you think you and me would end up being normal? Dating?”

With his tone, dating really does sound like a dumb word. He laughs to himself and you think you’ve caught him taking a look at the rubber duck again. You take a look at his arm on your breasts - not hand, his right arm pressing in. That strange, colorless tattoo - a sharp patterning circling right above his elbow. “Dating, honestly, pretty girl - I think we’ve ended up past that already.” 

You think, tattoo on his skin. You have, you guess - and you two haven’t. You don’t say anything. 

“You and me,” Your name right after his, confident on his tongue. “Sounds nice, now that I say it. You and me.” 

(Si, ella y yo.)

There are a couple of moments where he repeats himself, you’re sure he’s just trying to get used to the idea that he might get stuck with you, nothing else. “And again, I don’t what type of girl you are, you’re my girl, hm?” 

You think the hm is humorous enough, scratching up at the bottom of his throat, but you don’t really think to answer. For the first time, you realize - that this is a moment where you’re actually not thinking - if you are, it’s of nothing. You just feel the warming water, Lalo’s arm around your chest, the cool air hitting the top half. You just feel for a moment. Or two. 

“Princesa,” The hold becomes harder. “You’re my girl, right?” 

You shudder again. You nod. Lalo laughs, almost as breathy as yours, but much lower - much meaner, you think. “One minute you’re talking Ignacio’s ear off and now you can’t even answer my question, you’re so funny.” 

Even you can notice the deepening in his laughter - how there’s something off. 

And suddenly, like you know what to do, your arms come from under the water. You hold his arm around your breasts, and you...nuzzle? You push your face into his neck, and you feel your nails against bits of your chest. 

He’s right, in a way - you’re far past normal.  “Lalo, there’s no reason the answer will ever be no.” 

You don’t know where the assurance came from, but it’s so strong, and yet so light on your lips - you don’t even feel yourself shake once they dive off into the water, making droplets on the side of the tub. You didn’t even need your tongue to teeth to think of it. “Are you...” 

“Are you mines?” 

You feel some shaking coming on at the question, the dumb (fucking) question. Lalo’s the handsomest man you have ever seen, and he’s so loud and him. It’s so damn easy for you to be his, even though you don’t know him the way you’re sure you should, but for someone like him to be yours? You sniffle, and your nose leaves his neck, you look down to a part of his chest, a couple of hairs sprawled on the tanned skin. 

If didn’t make yourself so nervous, you would’ve focused on the fact that Lalo has the slightest, slightest bit of a belly. It might not even be a belly. He’s probably just big in frame. He is tall, you think. And yet, you don’t even notice how you fit in his frame, how you curl in the water - against his body. 

“You have me, annoyingly - someone so small and so...odd shouldn’t get a guy like me so...well - riled up. But you got a way with yourself, Princesa.” 

Odd. Always, you sink a little, Lalo shakes you a bit - it’s suddenly and you feel the hold tighten. 

“Hey, there’s nothing bad about odd - normal is a damn bore. You’re a odd little girl. You make me think, you think I would leave something like that behind while I head back to Mexico?” 

He always says it through a laugh, like it’s a joke - and you don’t know that it isn’t. Still, your nose goes back into his neck, and you don’t think his hold tightened then. 

And you don’t think about thinking - and it shows when you break the sudden silence, eyes closed. “You smell nice.” 

Then, of course, you do think - and you think “What the fuck?”

Lalo snorts. “Nice to know I don’t smell like shit, and you know what? Same to you, Princesa - always smelling so sweet, you’ll have to pack whatever lotion you’re using for Mexico.” He snorts again, and then takes a sniff to your hair. You feel his strong nose pressing in. 

“You didn’t want to use shampoo?” 

“Didn’t want to waste any of your stuff.” You say it soft, and you hope he didn’t feel the warmth of your breath against his neck. 

Silence, for a moment - he huffs. “But then you would smell like me, and obviously that doesn’t sound so bad, unless you were just lying again.” 

Nerves hit your spine, you only almost do a sort of giggle - ignoring the ending because the bath feels too nice. “No, that doesn’t sound so bad.” 

“Next time you will use some, hm?” 

You mm, lightly. At the mm, you only feel his neck against your nose, and his arm sprawled on your chest, how his hold on your biceps loosens to reach the underside of your breast. “You’re small, Princesa.” He makes a circle on the skin, light underwater. “bebé pequeño.” 

And you only feel warmth, no embarrassment - no nerves. Only the heat and the water and this need to kiss Lalo - because he’s making you feel so fuzzy. 

“We should actually take a proper shower, to actually clean, later - I’m all for getting my hands dirty, as a man - but we all gotta clean up well every now and again.” 

“Hm.” 

And you do kiss him with your soft pseudo-word, His neck is so big, and still dry, you feel him go still. So you don’t, you turn fully - water sloshing loud as you shift in his arms. You place yourself light on his thigh, and you slide down. In the water, chest to chest as you try, without realizing - to not knee Lalo in the penis. 

He’s silent and so are you - so you just make circles on his chest, his hairs getting wet - you glide your lips into the water after you slide yourself down a bit more, giving a kiss to his pec for the first time. 

It’s not normal, but it’s between you and him. So it doesn’t feel wrong, you drown the principle out as you give another kiss, that one a bit slower. You look up to Lalo, eyes through lashes. He’s looking down - and you can only guess he’s assumed, you don’t blame him - you’re an odd, needy freak show. 

“You just..you just feel nice.” 

You would think Lalo would snort again, but he doesn’t. He just continues to look at you. 

“You’re...you really are something else, Princesa.” 

You look down, but to his chest - and you place another kiss. Not normal, and maybe in a different place and time - not you, but if feels so you. In the way the Lalo’s stare feels so Lalo. 

You turn back, and Lalo uses his other arm, the one untattooed to snake around your waist this time. The other stills on the edge of the tub, you grab it - impulse. 

There, you play with his fingers, intertwining them with yours - and Lalo only watches. He only pretends he’s not one to ask questions, and he’ll only wonder why this is what leads you to be so talkative. 

You will know his birthday, a good couple stories about his cousins, how he got his tattoo. He will know yours as you throw in a story about Lyle - much to his dismay, and a small talk about those old movies. 

You will not know how his eyes go black when you’re not looking.