Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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It was way too damn hot, even for June. They’d managed to find the shadiest spot in the Miyagi-Do dojo and had been following it around as the sun moved across the sky, but now it was close to noon and there simply wasn’t enough space under the trees for all of them to successfully escape the scorching rays.

Eli was eyeing the pond with interest, it’d be so easy to just jump in and cool off, but he’d spent way too long on his hair this morning and he did have somewhere to be after they were done here.

He was pulled back to his friend’s conversation when Sam clapped her hands; he flinched at the sharp sound.

“Ok, so far we’ve got: road trip from coast to coast, Australia, Turkmenistan, Iceland, backpacking across Europe, Kenya, ‘Demetri’s Nerd Shit Tour of Japan’ – thank you Mitch for that phrasing – Egypt…” she paused, finger skittering down the page she’d been reading off of. “Anyone else got any more suggestions to throw in before we vote?”

Glancing around, the reactions among the rest of the group was some variation of shrug, with the occasional light shake of the head thrown in.

They’d all made plenty of suggestions already. Sam had immediately pushed hard for the Europe backpacking trip, Demetri had surprised no one when he mentioned Japan, though he’d thrown a curveball by also suggesting Egypt – apparently he’d been falling back into his old Egyptology phase after uncovering some mythology books from his childhood – Mitch had idly mentioned that Australia would be cool, Tory had apparently always wanted to go to Iceland at some point, Chris was torn between Kenya or a road trip across the US and Robby had literally just opened a map on his phone and pointed at random, happening to land on Turkmenistan.

Eli was the only one who was yet to make a suggestion and it was clear that Sam wanted him to at least contribute something to the discussion.

He didn’t see what the big deal was, it was a trip to celebrate them all finally graduating, not them picking a new country to live in for the rest of their lives. Honestly, if it wasn’t for Demetri’s insistence he would’ve tried to skip out on the whole thing altogether.

After four years of college he would honestly rather just sleep for two months straight than go on holiday for the same period.

Laying back a little further into the grass, squinting up at the too-bright sky, willing something – anything – to pop into his mind, he decided to just say whatever country came to mind first.

Anywhere in Europe sounded too boring, he really didn’t know many countries in Africa outside of the most obvious places – two of which had already been suggested – pretty much the same deal for Asia and honestly of all the options already in the running he was probably most interested in Japan anyways, since he’d long ago reacquainted himself with his nerdy interests and accepted that being a bit of a weeb wasn’t the death sentence it had once felt like back when they were kids.

Where else would he even want to go? Somewhere he at least spoke the language would be nice, so either an English or Spanish-speaking country…

A familiar face flashed against the darkness as he closed his eyes.

“How about Mexico City.”

When he finally opened his eyes again after several long, silent seconds, everyone had turned to look at him with the exact same expression and he wished for once that he wasn’t able to read it.

As much as he instantly regretted the words that had come out of his mouth, he wasn’t going to take their looks unchallenged. “What? It’s a cool place, great food, beautiful landmarks, exciting culture, hot weather, no big nerdy cultural touchstones so Demetri can complain the whole time… what’s not to like?”

To his credit, Demetri didn’t rise to the bait, just rolled his eyes to the sky for several seconds, before dropping them down to hit him with a pointed stare.

He squirmed under the scrutiny, but didn’t back down. He’d already made the suggestion now anyway, no point taking it back.

“Eli,” Sam said, voice tight, “it’s been five years.”

At least he wasn’t the only one feeling uncomfortable now, though it wasn’t much of a comfort since it was his own fault anyone was even thinking about it right now.

“I know.”

“The odds that he’s even still-”

“I didn’t suggest it because of that.” He was doing a poor job of keeping the aggression out of his tone, he knew that even without seeing the tense expressions on everyone’s faces. Taking a deep, steadying breath – like he’d been practising for years now – he managed to bring his emotion back under control before continuing, “I just… It’s the last place we know he was. I guess it’d feel like some kind of closure.”

The silence stretched out for an awkwardly long time, though the light wind in the trees and occasional buzz of insects flying around the place gave him something to focus on at least.

He hated that Miguel could still make him feel so open and raw, even when he wasn’t around.

Especially when he wasn’t around.

“Y’know, it’s not the worst idea in the world,” Chris said, sitting up a straighter against the tree he’d been leaning against, “and he’s right, Mexico would be a really cool place to visit even without… that other thing.”

Why the fuck did everyone feel like they couldn’t just come out and say it? Tiptoeing around the topic like if anyone said anything too direct then he was going to snap completely.

Sam sighed, scribbling on her notepad, likely adding his idea to their list. “Well, we’re putting it to a vote anyway, any more last-minute entries?”

This time, no one spoke up.

Demetri tore a blank sheet from Sam’s notebook, carefully ripping it into equal pieces with unnecessary precision. “Alright then, everyone write down your top three picks, first choice gets three points, second two and third one point-” he passed out the scraps of paper as he spoke “-we’ll go to whichever place gets the most points in total.”

Eli stared at the blank, neatly torn scrap, waiting for the pencil to be passed to him. Would it be cowardly at this point to pick anywhere but the one place he’d actually proposed himself?

As much as he did think it would be a good form of closure for the group…

He wasn’t sure if closure was actually what he wanted.

But what he really wanted was impossible, so maybe it would be for the best to just do the thing he’d been telling himself he should do for years now. What everyone else around him had been telling him to do too. Just let go.

He was snapped back to reality when Mitch jabbed his shoulder with the pencil, snickering – though he quickly stopped when Eli swiped it out of his hand and stabbed him back with it. Sighing, he wrote his picks down, folding the paper and dropping it into Sam’s waiting hand. He threw the pencil in Robby’s direction, frowning a little when he actually manged to catch it.

The results were eventually all handed in and Demetri loudly declared, “Silence as we perform the count please,” before him and Sam started calculating the point totals.

His request was immediately ignored, Tory and Robby started chatting about plans for an upcoming date and Mitch was loudly babbling about how excited he was to just get away from the Valley and school for a while to anyone who would listen. Which ended up being just Chris, though Eli paid at least half-attention, even if he didn’t contribute anything to the conversation.

Everyone knew that Mitch was mostly just panicking about having to actually start looking for a job now that he didn’t have the education excuse to keep his parents off his back about slacking. He’d been the one to suggest the trip in the first place; just another excuse to delay sorting out his life.

Eli was basically the opposite, he’d already put his plans into motion and was mostly just waiting for the paperwork side of things to go through, this trip would only be a distraction for him.

Though… maybe his obsessive plans for how his future would play out was a distraction in itself.

The more time he spent getting his adult life started, the less time he had to dwell on teenage mistakes and things that he couldn’t ever change. However much he might wish he could.

“Ok everyone, we’ve tallied the scores and we have our winning destination!”

Attention back on Demetri, the conversation came to an abrupt halt.

“I’ll let our illustrious leader make the announcement.” Sam’s face twisted in embarrassment at the title, though it wasn’t inaccurate. She was the one who had kept them all together as a team, despite everything that’d happened to them over the years and even after karate had stopped dominating their lives in such a huge way as college and work took precedence, she kept their little broken friend group held tightly together. “Drum roll please!”

Tory, Mitch and Chris were all too happy to provide, slapping their hands against the nearest noise-making surface – in Tory’s case that ended up being her boyfriend’s back, though he didn’t complain about the treatment.

Only when the din settled down a bit did Sam clear her throat. Her face was a little pinched, but she did manage to muster an almost-natural smile when she said, “I guess we’re going to Mexico City.”

---

It had been a mistake suggesting they come here.

Bosque de Chapultepec^[1] was beautiful in the late-afternoon sunlight and they’d managed to find a relatively secluded spot away from the worst of the crowds of tourists wandering the park, the group sprawled across several benches as they rested a little. Most of the day had been spent exploring the Museo Nacional de Antropología^[2] and – while museums weren’t usually his thing – Eli had to admit it’d been pretty interesting; even if he was now itching for some actual excitement on this trip.

So far Sam and Demetri had been the ones planning everything, admittedly that was only because no one else wanted to do it, but it did mean their vacation had been heavy on historical landmarks and nature walks and light on anything that might get the blood pumping.

Mitch and Chris had managed to drag them to one pro-wrestling match and were pushing hard for another, but they were up against the combined scheduling nightmare of the groups two most anal members, so he didn’t have much hope they would get to see another match anytime soon. Which would be a shame, it’d actually been pretty fun.

It didn’t help that the most practice he’d gotten in was a few brief sparring sessions with Robby and Tory when they’d actually woken up early enough to get some exercise in before the day started.

“Ok, we should probably start heading back to the hotel, the park closes in an hour and we’ve got to figure out what we’re doing for dinner,” Sam declared, pushing herself to her feet and encouraging everyone else to do the same.

Eli matched pace with Tory as the group started heading towards the exit. “Why don’t we just grab some street food and start exploring the city some more? No plans, just pick a direction and walk.”

Demetri gave him a look that usually preceded him being a little bitch. “Sure, let’s just go wandering around with no plan in a city with a notoriously high crime rate, that’ll end up going great I’m sure, shall we all leave our wallets hanging halfway out of our pockets as well for good measure?”

“We’ve only had one person try to rob us and I’m guessing he passed on the word about how bad an idea that was because we haven’t had any problems since,” Eli said, rolling his eyes.

The attempt probably would’ve gone better if they hadn’t targeted Sam, though he had to admit that it was only because he knew everyone in the group that he knew that. To an outsider she probably looked like an easy mark, what with her short build and girlish style; Sam had quickly proven how stupid an assumption that was to make. He’d almost felt sorry for the pickpocket by the end of it.

“I’m with Eli on this one-” he could always count on Mitch to back him up “-the fancy restaurants are nice and all but we’ve walked past so many stalls that smell amazing.”

“Exactly, and there’s more to a place than the tourist spots, can’t we just go find a bar or club or something? See more of the real city and not just this?” Eli waved his hand around, vaguely gesturing to the park as a substitute for everything they’d been doing for the last few days.

Sam gave him an unconvinced look, but continued walking, pace increasing a little.

He didn’t understand why she was so reluctant to just let them all let loose, have some more spontaneous fun. Granted she’d always been a bit of a drag – no matter how much the OG Miyagi-Do’s had tried to convince him otherwise – but it wasn’t like she’d ever avoided partying with them before. Maybe it was just because they were in an unfamiliar place and wouldn’t have the backup of family if the evening took a bad turn, but the whole point of this trip was supposed to be to relax and go wild after several exhausting years of college.

There wouldn’t be many more opportunities for it going forward.

If Miguel was here…

And just like that, despite the heat of the afternoon, it was like his entire body had been dunked in ice, his heart faltering for a brief moment before it found its rhythm again.

It’d been a mistake to suggesting to come here. And this was why.

He’d tried to escape it, pretend that his friend’s spectre wasn’t hovering over him, ready to reach down and wrap its cold, heavy arms around his neck at any moment. But he couldn’t. Miguel’s absence was a gaping void that couldn’t be filled and couldn’t be ignored.

Everything was a potential reminder of the person who should’ve been here with them. Dishes he remembered first trying when having dinner at his friend’s apartment, little cultural practices that were just familiar enough to remind him of some quirks Miguel had had, the too-common sight of curly dark hair that kept throwing him off-balance every time it was attached to a frame too similar to the one he remembered.

Eli knew it was stupid, but he kept expecting Miguel to be nearby, instinctually turning around, ready to nudge him and make a joke, only for his elbow to hit nothing but air. Or the times he’d come across regional slang terms he wasn’t familiar with – despite being basically fluent in Spanish they weren’t the kind of thing that came up in classes and he’d mostly learned from the Diaz family, so the slang he did know was Ecuadorian, not Mexican – and every time he’d found himself glancing around, seeking the encouraging grin and nod that confirmed he was saying things correctly.

And it turned out Miguel wasn’t an uncommon name here, though it also wasn’t common enough that he’d been able to start filtering it out of his senses, so the few times he’d heard it he couldn’t stop himself from getting his hopes up, just for a second, before the disappointment came crashing down on him.

The worst part of it was that he seemed to be the only one struggling with any of it, everyone else was enjoying their trip with none of the empty loneliness he’d been feeling.

And, as much as he wanted to pretend it was just because they didn’t care that much about Miguel, he knew it was actually the opposite. Eli simply cared too much. More than he ever should have, more than he had any right to.

The exact depth of his feelings for his one-time best friend had always been messy and tangled and confusing, even to himself, but he wasn’t a complete idiot. Friends didn’t think about each other the way he’d thought about Miguel. They didn’t linger on tiny, inconsequential moments late in the night with their guts twisting into painful knots, or find excuses to touch even when the slightest contact seemed to burn, or imagine how it might be to get even closer, take more than was even on offer, allow greedy desire to torture him with impossible fantasy.

He'd been crushing on his friend for a long time. Possibly he’d even been in love, though that thought was too terrifying to fully grapple with, even if it felt right, explained why he was still so hung up on the friend who ran away, clinging onto memories and refusing to move on.

And he didn’t even want to try and let go, despite knowing how unhealthy it was to keep holding his old friend in his heart like this.

It had been the one bad habit his therapist hadn’t been able to get him to shake off.

But being here just made all that regret and hurt so much sharper. If he’d come down here right away, if they’d all come down here… Would they have been able to find Miguel and bring him home?

Of course Sensei Lawrence and Robby had taken off the morning after Miguel left, but they were just two people looking for one in a city of millions. Robby had admitted on his return that they never saw even a glimpse of him, no lead had ever gotten them anywhere close. Eventually they’d been forced to return – despite basically everyone’s wishes – after they found out about the chaos going on back home in their absence and after weeks with no sign of Miguel anywhere and their funds dwindling away to almost nothing.

They had promised they would restart the search again though, as soon as LaRusso had calmed down and Silver and Cobra Kai was dealt with. But that had taken months and in all that time no one heard anything from their friend. All his social media profiles had remained trapped in 2019 and Eli still had the last text he’d ever received from Miguel saved on his phone;

Sorry we didn’t get to finish our fight I’ll explain everything soon and I promise we’ll have our rematch when I’m back

But he never got his explanation, or his rematch.

If they’d all come down together, spread out, coordinated their search, it could’ve been enough, they might’ve been able to find him and bring him home.

Maybe. If they’d done that after Miguel had initially disappeared…

It was useless to think about that now though. It was too late. Five years too late.

Miguel was gone and he had never come back, was never going to come back. Being here just brought that into sharper focus, left Eli wondering if maybe Miguel had walked these same streets at some point, perhaps even while thinking of everyone he’d left behind back home, just like Eli was thinking about him now-

He growled and forced that thought away, ignoring the brow Tory raised at him. It was stupid, he was being stupid and desperate and when was he ever going to learn how to stop doing this to himself?

At the front of the group, Sam sighed loud enough that it carried all the way to where he was at the back.

“Ok fine, we’ll maybe try and plan a more informal exploring the city day-” Eli opened his mouth to point out that planning was kind of at odds with exploring freely like he’d suggested, but didn’t manage to get more than a word out before Sam was barrelling on “-but for now, I remember seeing good reviews for this restaurant in Benito Juárez, we should be able to get there and be back in time to catch that indie film festival happening near the hotel.”

Mitch groaned, long and loud and without shame. “Great. Sounds like a total blast, you sure there weren’t any places we could watch paint dry instead?”

“I’m with Mitch on this one,” Eli said, smirking at the glare Sam levelled in his direction, “isn’t it mostly Spanish-language films anyways? I’m warning you now I’m not gonna be translating for you guys all night.”

Sam’s glare didn’t budge an inch, which was good, the familiar tension between them was a useful distraction. “There’ll be subtitles, and it’ll help the rest of us get to your level, oh master translator.”

He rolled his eyes, but left his smirk where it was. This was good, this comfortable back-and-forth would keep him out of his own head. He could always count on Sam to annoy him back into reality. And it reminded him of why they were all here in the first place.

This was supposed to be fun; he was supposed to be spending time with his friends, the ones who were still here.

Thoughts of the friend who wasn’t were to be pushed aside, crushed down. He could deal with them later. Or never. But not right now. Right now was the time to just let go, at least for an hour or two, focus on the here and now. Closure, that’s what he’d said when he’d tried to justify this trip to the group – to himself – if he couldn’t find it here, he really didn’t know where else to look.

“You know if someone else wants to take over the scheduling…” Demetri let his voice trial off.

Eli snorted, speeding his pace enough to fall into place beside his best friend – nudging himself in-between him and Sam – and lightly shove his shoulder. “Fuck that, this is supposed to be a vacation, why would I volunteer to do more work?”

“Well then you don’t get to complain about what we do or don’t do. If you have suggestions then we can vote on them like we normally do.” Sam said, giving Eli a shoulder-check of her own.

Chris coughed as he sidled a little closer, ducking around a group of kids charging down the path screeching. “Y’know, we’ve had a majority in favour of going to watch another wrestling match the last two votes,” he said, trying for casual, but his motive was so obvious that even Eli could pick it up a mile away.

The way that Sam and Demetri could roll their eyes in almost perfect sync was honestly a little creepy.

“We’ve already done that once, and it’s not completely off the table, but new ideas come first.”

“Does every individual museum we’ve been to really count as a ‘new idea’?” Tory’s tone made it clear exactly how she felt about the abundance of them they’d already seen in the less than two weeks since they arrived.

Sam didn’t quite rise to the bait as she might’ve years ago, but she did give her once-rival-now-frenemy the haughty look that seemed to be reserved exclusively for Tory. “If you’re cultured then yes, yes they do.”

It was total bullshit, everyone knew it, especially Tory who immediately bit back with a sharp, “Oh, what’s the matter Princess? Can’t handle being stuck with us peasants dragging you down to our level?” but the bickering was light, habitual, almost comforting in a weird way. It was just the only way a group of people who’d all gone through some of the worst shit in their lives together – and in several cases because of each other – could communicate without screaming sometimes.

They’d mostly gotten past it all, but that lingering tension was never completely going away. They’d just had to find ways to navigate around it without resorting to the kind of behaviour that had led to things getting so fucked up between them all in the first place.

It had been easier when Miguel was around, he’d always been able to dispel those strange moods as quickly as they arrived; a bright smile, an honest laugh, genuine belief in all their better natures-

Fuck.

He kicked a stone as they trailed out of the park, Sam leading the way to the restaurant she’d already picked out, he found himself slowing until everyone else was walking ahead of him. Robby gave him a passing glance over his shoulder, the barest raise of an eyebrow in a silent question. When Eli didn’t give him a response, he just shrugged and carried on, leaving Eli to his thoughts.

Thoughts that he was apparently never going to be able to escape, feelings that were going to cling and weigh him down for the rest of his life and he’d just have to learn to live with them, like everyone else had learned to live with each other.

He really missed Miguel.

It had been a mistake suggesting they come here.

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Chapter Text

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The streets in this part of town weren’t nearly as busy as the more tourist-y areas, but that suited Eli just fine, he much preferred the atmosphere here; still loud, still energetic, but less forced, more natural.

It was nice being by himself as well. As fun as it was hanging out with the others, he’d been desperately needing a break from having to interact with them so much.

Funny how you could spend a good chunk of your life with a group of people mostly getting along, but the second you were packed into a few small rooms and hanging out all day every day for two weeks you suddenly noticed every little tick and habit they had which made your blood boil with rage. He’d told the others that he had a killer headache that was refusing to shift, but that they should go out and have fun without him, he’d just stay in and sleep it off.

And it wasn’t entirely a lie, his head really was pounding and he had managed a brief nap before the pain had woken him up again.

But the room was too suffocating and he wanted fresh air. And perhaps a drink or two as well, the night was still young and the buzz would probably be enough to take the edge off.

He hadn’t had an actual destination in mind, just faced a random direction and started walking, and whenever he came to an intersection, he just went with the most interesting looking street. He’d passed several bars and clubs that were packed to the brim, but after over an hour of aimless wandering Eli had managed to find a slightly quieter area, where some more enticing options were opening up to him.

He'd also received several texts from Mitch, Chris, Sam and Demetri asking where the hell he was – apparently their night had ended early and they’d come back to find him gone from their hotel and were now worried he’d gone and gotten himself into trouble or something – and one message from Tory moaning about him ditching her with a bunch of losers.

It was a dick move, he knew it was, but he left everyone on read except for Tory, to whom he simply replied ‘lol’ knowing that she’d pass on the message that he was fine.

Maybe it left him feeling a little guilty turning his phone to silent after that, but he’d wanted to get away from the others tonight. So he started looking for somewhere to escape into.

There was a pretty small pub nearby that looked inviting, more a place to eat than drink, but he couldn’t deny that whatever they were serving smelled incredible. A much livelier crowd was hanging around outside a larger building just beyond, drawing him closer and as he wandered over the laughter and faint cheering became more noticeable.

The words El Hoyo Verde^[3] hung over the doors. He squinted at the poster hanging by the doorway; some kind of MMA bar?

It wasn’t the same as his beloved karate, but he couldn’t deny that he was missing the familiar rush he got from training – no one apart from Robby had seemed very interested in sparring when they were supposed to be on vacation, even Tory had to be bribed into it the few times he’d managed to get a session in with her. Maybe watching a few matches would be enough to throw off the lethargy that had been pulling him down this entire trip.

His feet were already moving him towards the place before his head had even made the conscious decision to go there.

The air inside was thick and warm, uncomfortably so, though not enough to encourage him to leave. Most of the lights were kept low, with the brightest spotlights being held on the cage that took up half of the ground floor where a fight was already underway, two men circling each other warily, making occasional jabs with a fist or foot.

Eli watched idly for a few moments, wondering where the hell all the excitement was – karate matches were way more energised than this – before diverting his attention to the bar instead. If nothing else, he could at least get a few drinks here and if the fighting didn’t get any better, well, that place just down the street wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

By the time his drink was handed to him, the fight had ended, though he hadn’t been paying enough attention to see who’d won, or how, the fighters ushered out of the cage to a smattering of applause.

He sipped idly at his beer, eyes darting around the packed space, mildly surprised by the atmosphere of the crowd. In his experience, competition fights often came with an excited, but also nervous energy, like everyone in the room was waiting for something to go seriously wrong. Perhaps it was because most of the tournaments he’d been involved in were for under-18s, with the majority of the audience being made up of parents who, as much as they might be proud of their children, probably would also prefer not to see their sweet little baby get kicked in the face.

Maybe it was because everyone was older, maybe it was just because of the alcohol, but here everyone was relaxed. Only a handful of people were actively watching as the cage was set up, the next fighters warming up in a small enclosed area off to the side.

The next fight was at least a little more engaging than the first, the competitors more aggressive, though Eli was sure that he must be missing half the rules because he didn’t quite understand what had clinched the win for the victor. He hadn’t gotten a KO and his opponent hadn’t submitted at any point. For sure he was the better fighter, Eli wasn’t questioning the call, but he wasn’t sure what the judges were basing their point system on.

He went to grab another drink as the cage was prepped for the next bout. At least his headache had dulled a little, he wondered if maybe it would have if he’d gone out with the others as well, but he was here now, having an alright time.

And they probably appreciated having some space from him anyway. He’d been trying not to let his low mood show on his face too much, but this trip was bringing back a lot of painful memories and emotions he obviously hadn’t worked through as much as he’d hoped he had.

Maybe they all would’ve been better off going to Australia instead.

The announcer clearing his throat barely registered, before his loud, overly animated voice broke through the distracted haze in his mind.

“Ahora para nuestro próximo partido, recién llegado de su reciente victoria contra Everado Herrera, ¡presentamos al recién llegado Jason Soto!”^[4] There was a scatter of cheers from the crowd. Most of the noise coming from the extremely boisterous group who were almost certainly the fighter’s friends here to support him and the rest from those who’d gotten so drunk already that they’d probably cheer anything at this point.

“Frente a nuestro campeón, invicto por quince peleas consecutivas-”^[5] the announcer paused for dramatic effect, but even if he hadn’t, nobody would’ve been able to hear him over the buzz as the majority of spectators finally began to pay real attention to the cage in the centre of the bar.

Eli found himself being drawn along with the excitement as people moved closer to the stage, having to brace himself against the bars that separated the audience from the cage to avoid being shoved over them entirely. He was half tempted to throw an elbow back into the stomach of whoever was behind him as a warning, but his eyes passed over the cage where both fighters were facing each other and his heart stopped.

“¡Miguel 'La Anaconda' Salazar!”

There was probably another cheer from the crowd, but Hawk couldn’t hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears, drowning out everything around him like he was underwater. Because there was Miguel, his Miguel, his best friend, the one who’d disappeared five years ago, the one he’d long ago accepted that he’d never see again.

And he was just standing there, alive and well, like he hadn’t just ripped a hole in Eli’s heart simply by existing, completely oblivious to the way his world had suddenly crashed down around him.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to vault the barrier keeping him a meter’s distance from the cage, separating him from his friend, he wanted to cry. But all he could do was stare blankly, as every one of his senses seemed to warp, twisting his reality to exist only around Miguel.

Part of him was silently begging Miguel to just glance around the room, catch a glimpse of him, but his eyes stayed resolute on his opponent.

“¡Luchadores listos!”^[6]

The two combatants tapped their gloves together, before each stepped back, the referee retreating until he nearly touched the metal grating.

“¡Comenzar!”^[7]

The call for the fight to start hadn’t even finished echoing around the room before Miguel charged forward, vicious right hook aimed at his opponent’s head. It was blocked – barely – but the immediate follow-up knee landed squarely in his gut, lifting the man off the floor for a brief second. Eli winced in sympathy, that must’ve taken the breath right out of him, because he barely reacted to the straight punch to his shoulder.

Something was bubbling up within Eli, a familiar excitement, the same one he’d first felt watching a boy take on a swarm of bullies in a cafeteria a lifetime ago. He couldn’t even bring himself to blink in case he missed something beautiful.

Miguel’s opponent – whatever the hell his name was, he’d immediately shoved it from his mind once he saw his old friend – manged to land a roundhouse, holding Miguel off just long enough to get a little distance, hopping back a few steps, edging closer to the edge of the ring. Though, he didn’t have long to breathe before Miguel was darting forward again, throwing a punch directly into his face.

Eli almost wanted to yell out when it didn’t connect, the man managing to pull his head back just enough that the fist stopped an inch away from actually making contact. However, Miguel didn’t pull his arm back, instead hovering his gloved hand in place, obscuring his opponent’s view as he swung his foot around and slammed him with a mid-kick.

The man stumbled, back brushing against the steel cage, which was apparently what Miguel had been waiting for.

In a move so fast and fluid that Eli didn’t even see how it’d happened, Miguel had his arms wrapped around the man’s shoulder, pinning him between the cage and his own body, Miguel’s head jammed under his opponent’s chin, forcing his neck straight.

He had to admit, he’d never quite understood grappling, either in how it was performed or what made it effective. Eli had always been a pretty straight-forward striker, but watching this he began to see what a good grappler was capable of. The man’s right arm was held out unnaturally, barely able to move, while his left was weakly clawing at Miguel’s shoulder, trying to push him back, only to have Miguel jam his own shoulder in closer, tightening the constriction against his chest. With a sharp twist of his hips, Miguel smashed his knee into the man’s thigh, pressing him harder into the cage, pinning him helplessly.

As much as the familiar-but-slightly-off name gnawed at him, Eli had to admit, La Anaconda was an apt nickname for his friend’s new fighting style.

In less than a minute, the man was tapping against Miguel’s arm, who quickly released him, stepping back to let the ref close in on the pair. After a cursory check of the loser – who shook his head at whatever was being asked of him, before standing up straight again – the referee held up Miguel’s hand and his mouth was clearly opening and closing, but Eli still couldn’t hear a damn word. His entire world was condensed down to the man lightly panting beside him, a small, slightly dazed smile on his face.

His arm was finally released and Miguel immediately turned to his challenger, tapping their gloves together again and lightly patting his shoulder.

Eli wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, or if he’d actually somehow strained his hearing enough over the distorted white noise of the bar to catch the words, “Buen partido,”^[8] leaving Miguel’s mouth. As though the match had been anything but entirely one-sided.

His eyes remained glued to his friend’s broad back as he stepped out of the cage – he’d bulked out a lot since they’d last seen each other, especially obvious since he wasn’t wearing a shirt. The second he was free of the ring, an older man pulled Miguel into a brief hug, patting his back a few times before pushing him back, while someone else was pressing a towel into his hands. Taking it gratefully and wiping it across his face, Miguel was led away, the older man’s hand still clutching his shoulder as they walked through the narrow strip that kept the bar-goers separated from the fighters and officials.

He was walking away, threatening to disappear from Eli’s life as quickly as he’d arrived.

No, not again, never again!

Eli didn’t wait, shoving several drunks out of the way in his desperation, refusing to let his eyes leave Miguel for a second. He was still several meters away when the two men reached the doors that presumably led to the changing rooms, he wouldn’t reach in time, he was going to be too late-

“Miguel!”

He stopped, bare back still turned – Eli couldn’t help but notice the old surgery scar, still highly visible along his spine – before continuing forward, not bothering to turn around.

Growling, he pushed a little closer, until a rough hand on his shoulder halted him. He glared up at the bouncer in his path for only a second, before turning desperate eyes back to his friend, shouting even louder at his retreating form.

“Miguel!”

Finally, he turned around, dark eyes narrowed, until the second they landed on Eli, at which point they widened like saucers.

He’d changed so much; his hair was longer, the messy, sweat-soaked curls falling into his face, he’d lost some of that teenage baby-fat that he’d managed to hold onto for longer than anyone else in their group, leaving a more defined jaw in its place, though he still had an overall softness to his face, he’d also grown a short, neat beard at some point. But… it was still Miguel.

The same soft, warm eyes, the same openness to his expression-

Until it wasn’t.

His face settled into a neutral frown within seconds, enough to leave Eli questioning if the signs of his old friend had just been a figment of his desperate imagination.

“Miguel, ¿alguien que conoces?”^[9] the man still hovering beside him asked.

“No, nunca le había visto antes.”^[10] He turned away, breaking the eye contact that had felt like the only thing keeping Eli’s world together. Wait – his mind caught up enough to translate those words – what? “Vamos, llegarás tarde si no te vas ahora y quiero limpiarme.”^[11]

The man gave him an unplaceable look, but followed after Miguel as he quickly disappeared into the backstage area.

He was about to shout after him again, but the hand on his shoulder tightened. “You gonna cause trouble?” the bouncer rumbled in a thick accent; he was very tempted to say yes and just knock him on his ass before chasing after his friend, but he doubted that would encourage Miguel to talk to him.

Forcing his growl back down his throat, he tore his gaze away from the empty space his old friend had left behind him. “No, I’ll leave.”

---

He stared at the door intently, leaning back against the alley wall with his arms crossed tightly against his chest.

Once he’d been ‘gently’ escorted from the bar, he’d immediately circled the building to find any other potential exits and – as far as he could tell – there were only two, front and back. It was a fifty-fifty shot, but he’d taken a swing on the rear exit, since it seemed like it would line up with where Miguel had disappeared to, at least going by what he could remember of the bar’s floorplan. And there was a dark nook where he could hide himself pretty well, so all he had to do was wait and hope.

It wasn’t the best idea in the world, he would freely admit that, but if his former best friend was going to refuse to acknowledge his presence… Well, he’d have to take matters into his own hands, wouldn’t he?

Miguel was alive!

He was here, practically within reach, yet so fucking far away. And, even though he’d now had fifteen minutes to stand here trying to pull his emotions into some kind of order, he still didn’t know how to feel about it.

Elated? Yes. Confused? Absolutely. Furious? As much as he was trying not to be, yeah, he was pretty damn mad too.

What the fuck had he been doing all this time? It’d been years and Miguel had never bothered to reach out to anybody back home. Not even his mother, grandmother, or Johnny. They’d been living having accepted that their boy was likely dead, except he wasn’t and Eli couldn’t understand how he would put them through that when he’d always been so considerate of his family before. Or how he could put Eli himself through that pain, or any of their other friends.

So, yeah, he was angry, he had every right to be.

He suspected that if his therapist was here right now, she’d be telling him that deep below everything else, however, he was probably simply hurt.

Hurt that the person he’d once felt closest to in the world had abandoned him, that he’d not tried to keep in touch, at least let him know he was still out there, still living, still thinking of the friends he’d left behind.

But… maybe he hadn’t been. Maybe there was a reason he hadn’t felt the need to keep in touch.

Had he ever really cared about any of them, if he could so easily drop them from his life?

Voices quickly drew him back to the present. He glanced up in time to see a group of men exiting the building, sports bags slung over shoulders, laughing at something someone had said while they were inside. The second his eyes landed on Miguel, he had to force the muscles in his legs to stay locked in place, because every instinct was telling him to run over and tackle the guy.

But he had to be smart about this; it had already been made clear that his old friend wasn’t looking to have the kind of reunion that Eli had been hoping for, because there was absolutely no fucking way he hadn’t recognised him. How many other people sported brightly-coloured mohawks?

As the group started to wander away Eli slowly followed after them, keeping out of sight as much as possible, though he knew better than to exclusively stick to alleys and shadows – that would only make him look suspicious as hell – so he tried to walk casually a fair distance behind them, just praying that his hair wasn’t making him stick out for once. He needed to try and catch Miguel alone, where they could talk without an audience, because apparently he didn’t want anyone knowing that they knew each other.

Once they hit a busier main street, the men stopped, chatting a little. It was difficult to tell at this distance, but it sounded like they were discussing what bar to go to for drinks.

Eli frowned, that’d make reaching his target even more difficult, though he was willing to follow this through to the very end, tailing them all night if necessary. Luckily, he wasn’t going to need to; despite whatever the men were saying to try and convince him, Miguel was shaking his head and walking backwards away from them, calling his goodbyes before turning around to walk properly, heading in the opposite direction to the rest of the group.

Perfect, he thought, letting Miguel get a little further ahead and casting the group he’d left behind a cursory glance to make sure they weren’t going to notice him following their friend.

They were already wandering off themselves, talking and laughing obnoxiously loudly. He immediately turned his full attention back to Miguel’s rapidly retreating back. It was painful trying to restrain himself from just running up to him, launching himself at the man in what could end up being either a tackle or a hug, but it was still pretty busy here. Better to wait until they were going to have a little more privacy.

He wasn’t going to let Miguel go without at least talking to him though. Not after all this time.

After about ten minutes the streets started to empty out a little, there were still people wandering around, but they were locals focused on getting to where they were going rather than tourists taking in the sights. His target was still casually walking several yards ahead of him, gym bag rhythmically hitting against his hip with each step.

He should probably start planning what he was going to say when he finally caught up, but the trouble was there was simply too much he needed to tell his old friend. Lives to catch up on, hurt feelings to air, explanations to demand…

All the words he wanted to say swirled around in a mess that refused to coalesce into anything coherent.

Hell, he might even be better off just wordlessly screaming directly in his face in a desperate bid to get across everything he was feeling right now.

The streets were suddenly a lot emptier and he hadn’t noticed when that’d happened. Heart picking up a little he sped up his steps, he might not get another chance like this again, he had to reach him quickly, before he-

He turned a corner and Miguel was gone.

Fuck, how had he lost him? He was sure that Miguel had come this way, but where the hell could he have disappeared so quickly? The street was deserted, he should be easily visible.

Any concern about subtlety now gone, he rushed forwards, head turning wildly every few steps as he tried to figure out where he could possibly have hidden away. Had he entered one of the buildings? It was a residential street, maybe he lived here? Was he going to have to resort to knocking on doors until he found the right one? Because he was absolutely prepared to go that far.

He had just turned to glance down an alley when an arm snapped out of the shadows to grab at the neck of his t-shirt. He managed to twist away from it at the last second, going for a counter kick to his attacker’s chest.

It landed, earning him a satisfying grunt, though he only had a moment to soak in the satisfaction before he had to block the arm attempting to swipe at his head. Grabbing it before it could retreat, he placed his other hand firmly on the man’s shoulder then swung his foot around to sweep his legs out from under him.

Unfortunately his opponent had grabbed a handful of his shirt and didn’t let go when he fell, dragging Eli down to the hard concrete with him.

They briefly groaned in unison at the rough landing, untangling enough that he managed to push himself into a sitting position, however before he could stand or turn to face the one attacking him, he suddenly felt a warm body closing in tightly against his back, feet hooking over his hips and behind his thighs, an arm snaking around his neck.

Growling, he instinctively went to grab the man’s hand before he could lock him into a choke, attempting to pull it back, but the leg trapping his left hip was sharply pulled up, knee pushing Eli’s elbow up with it.

Before he could even register what’d happened, his left arm was being pulled swiftly backwards, wrist locked into the man’s armpit and his arm twisted back painfully. He moved experimentally, but it became very obvious very quickly that if he wasn’t careful he would end up with a dislocated shoulder.

Luckily his attacker wasn’t doing anything to force that result himself, nor was he doing anything with the arm still around his neck other than keeping a firm pressure there to hold his upper body still.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” a very familiar voice rumbled in his ear.

It was a little deeper than he’d remembered and Miguel rarely spoke with anything close to that much of an edge, but it was enough to make him relax into the hold instead of fighting back.

He snorted, turning his head as much as Miguel’s grip would allow. “This how you greet an old friend?”

“Hawk.”

He froze.

It wasn’t like nobody called him that anymore, some of the old Eagle-Fang crew occasionally dropped the old nickname, and Demetri sometimes used it when he was feeling particularly bitchy, but hearing it from Miguel… it brought back more memories and long-forgotten feelings than he was comfortable with.

“Why are you here?” Miguel asked, voice trembling with some withheld emotion, though Eli wasn’t about to try and guess what, he wasn’t well equipped for that kind of thing at the best of times, let alone when he was feeling so emotionally unstable himself.

He couldn’t turn enough to make eye contact, so he glared at the wall on the other side of the dingy alleyway instead. “I could ask you the same thing.”

The hold on him tightened slightly; he hissed, but didn’t make any attempt to escape. He couldn’t go anywhere as long as he was trapped in this lock, but neither could Miguel, and he wanted to keep him here for as long as he could possibly manage.

Eli sighed, voice dropping to a whisper, “You really expected me to just let you walk away?”

“So you thought you’d just follow me home?” Miguel asked, grip loosening slightly again, though not enough that Eli would’ve felt confident trying to break free. “What exactly were you expecting to happen?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, because he really hadn’t had any expectations at all, “but I was hoping that maybe my best friend would want to actually talk to me.”

Suddenly, his arm was let go – he gratefully shook it out a little as he swung it back into a more natural position – and the warm body behind him retreated. Part of him wanted to pull it back, but he fought down those instincts and just turned to watch Miguel shuffling away, leaning his back against the rough bricks of the wall behind him, arms draped over his bent knees.

“We haven’t seen each other in years Hawk, we’re not friends anymore.”

That stung, though Eli hid his hurt behind anger, glaring at the man before shuffling over himself to sit beside him. “And whose fault is that?”

“Look, you should go home-” Miguel pushed himself to his feet, once again putting distance between them, backing away every time Eli got too close, and grabbing the bag he must’ve dropped before his ambush earlier “-and if you aren’t going to do that you should at least get back to wherever it is you’re staying; this part of town isn’t safe.”

“I can handle myself.”

Miguel glared down at him. “You gonna ‘handle yourself’ against a bullet? Gangs around here aren’t gonna give you a chance to use any karate, Hawk.”

Something about the way that was phrased gave him pause. “You know a lot about the gangs around here?”

“I know enough,” Miguel said, brows furrowing deeper for a second before he was turning away once again, “seriously, get out of here and forget you ever saw me.”

Eli gaped at his turned back, opening his mouth to speak, but unable to come up with a single word to say. Forget him? As if he could. He hadn’t even been able to forget him after years of radio silence, not even after eventually accepting he was probably already dead.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?” Finally he managed to spit something out, voice high-pitched, practically begging his friend to give him a real answer.

Maybe if he could somehow forget him, he wouldn’t have to hurt so much anymore. But then again if forgetting him meant losing everything Miguel had ever meant to him, all the memories, all the admiration, the way he’d completely changed the course of his life… There was no way. He couldn’t ever give all that up.

Flinging his bag over his shoulder, Miguel shrugged, only turning back enough to glance at him for a too-brief second. “You’ve lived without me this long, you’ll survive.”

Bullshit.

Utter fucking bullshit.

He hadn’t lived without Miguel.

He was always there, always just an idle thought away. All it took was a familiar sound, or smell, even driving past a convenience store they’d visited just one time as teenagers was enough to bring all the memories and feelings rushing back at once. All it took was seeing someone with dark, curly hair from behind and getting a rush of excitement that dropped into devastation when they turned around and it wasn’t his face grinning back at him.

And he hadn’t lived either, not really, not like he’d felt alive from the first second he laid eyes on Miguel again.

Did Miguel think so little of Hawk to believe that he wouldn’t care that his friend had been missing from his life for so long? Or did he think so little of himself that he was so sure he wasn’t worth anyone remembering him?

“Miguel.”

He didn’t look back at him again, just started slowly walking away.

“El Serpiente.”

The hitch in his steps was obvious and Eli swore he could hear the shuddering breath even from several feet away, but then Miguel was leaving him behind once again and he couldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t let him go, he-

He launched himself to his feet, not thinking, not waiting, just racing to catch him.

Reaching out to grab at his shoulder Eli didn’t see what happened next. All he knew was that one second his fingers had lightly brushed the rough fabric of Miguel’s jacket and the next he was lying on his back, wind knocked out of him and with a dull pain in his ribs that sharpened with every shallow inhale. Above him, he could just about make out Miguel’s panicked face in the hazy orange glow of the streetlamp at the entrance of the alley.

He grimaced as he made the mistake of trying to move, a low groan escaping him as he had to close his eyes so he could focus on steadying his breathing. Not an easy task when even the tiniest inhale had the entire left side of his chest screaming in agony.

Trying to stop himself from crying out in pain and ignoring the stinging in his eyes, he forced himself to relax. Slow, shallow inhale, hold it, slow release, try to control the random twitching of his muscles as much as possible, repeat.

By the time he’d managed to push through the worst of it enough to open his eyes again, Miguel was long gone.

Fuck.

Gingerly touching at his side, he hissed when he got too close to a specific point. Had Miguel seriously just cracked one of his ribs? He’d only had a fractured rib once before, but it had been a… memorable experience and this sensation was painfully familiar.

He tried to be wary of how he moved, so as not to aggravate anything further, but still couldn’t stop the whimpers and hisses escaping him as he used the wall to push himself up and staggered out of the alley.

He knew without looking that Miguel wouldn’t be there. But not chasing after him was unthinkable.

So he looked anyway.

As he’d expected, there was no sign of him and there wasn’t even anyone else wandering the street who might’ve seen which direction he went.

The growl built up in the back of his throat and his knuckles were turning white where they gripped against the wall. But it wasn’t only the pain that was making it difficult to stand. Taking as deep a breath as he was able – which wasn’t very, not without feeling like a dagger had just been slammed into his side – he pushed himself upright and began the slow limp back to the hotel.

---

Chapter Text

---

It was a lucky night; Miguel was actually fighting.

After their first encounter, Hawk had immediately decided that he wasn’t going to let this go. One way or another he was going to get Miguel to have a real conversation with him and he was going to get some actual answers out of him. Why he left, what had happened while he was down here, why he’d never come home.

He hadn’t even waited for his ribs to heal, though he’d gotten Chris and Tory to give him a quick check-over just to be safe. They had both studied in medical fields and he wasn’t about to waste time going to a hospital where he’d probably need to have a whole litany of time-consuming tests and treatments done before he could escape.

They confirmed it was probably a hairline fracture and, when asked how he had gotten such an injury, he’d claimed that he’d been too drunk that night to remember. No one was buying it, but he wasn’t about to tell them the truth, not until he’d spoken with Miguel again.

Unfortunately, the only lead he had was that he knew the guy fought at this one bar, at least often enough to be a big draw given the crowd’s reaction that first night and a vague memory of the announcer mentioning that he was their resident champ. It stood to reason that this was somewhere he might show up again, though after visiting the place every night for just under two weeks now, he was quickly realising that wasn’t going to help him much.

He'd caught three more of Miguel’s matches, all several days apart, but between the four times he had seen him there wasn’t a consistent pattern to his appearances that he could use to predict when he might show up next.

And it didn’t mean he’d had any luck in actually making contact again.

Miguel had spotted him the second time and judging by how surprised he’d looked to see him standing amongst the crowd he’d not been expecting it – which, really? Did he not remember what Hawk was like? – the match had ended as quickly as the previous one, a knockout punch clinching him the win but he’d not stayed to celebrate, practically sprinting to the changing rooms before Eli had managed to elbow his way anywhere close.

At the third fight Miguel had been actively looking for him, eyes scanning the audience intently and a tight furrow pinching his brow the second his gaze landed on Eli’s distinctive hair. That match had been slightly more even, his opponent lasting a whole round with him before being choked out in the second round and submitting. Eli had attempted to pre-empt Miguel’s getaway that time by moving closer to the changing room doors before the fight was over, but he must’ve seen through Eli’s plan because Miguel chose that day not to head for the changing rooms, instead jumping the barrier between the bar and the cage to mingle in the crowd.

By the time Eli had managed to push his way through, his target had found another escape route and disappeared yet again.

It was frustrating, but he was going to have to find a smarter way to reach him.

This night, he’d headed to the second floor instead of waiting on the ground one. It would make it pretty much impossible to reach Miguel before he ran off, but it would also be harder for Miguel to notice him up here and the vantage point might give him a better idea of how he could catch him next time he tried to run away.

His phone buzzed in his pocket for the fifth time in about twenty minutes. He ignored it, it was only going to be another message from Demetri, Mitch, Chris or Sam anyway; they weren’t exactly happy that he’d taken to ditching them in the evenings to come here.

Not that they knew where he was. Or what he was doing.

He was going to tell them, just… when he had some actual news to give them. In the meantime he was going to put his phone on silent and pretend he didn’t see the worried, angry, pestering messages in his notifications.

Slipping it back into his pocket, he leaned against the balcony railing, rolling a can of beer between his hands as he watched his friend warming up outside the ring.

The years had admittedly been pretty good to Miguel. He hadn’t really grown any taller as far as he could tell – Eli himself had had a late growth spurt and was probably about the same height as him now – but he’d put on a lot more bulk, the kind that came from actual physical labour and not just sculpting muscles for show. And, though he’d never thought much of facial hair, Eli had to admit the beard was really doing a number on his heartrate for reasons he couldn’t quite comprehend. Overall he just looked more mature, if he hadn’t known better he would’ve guessed the guy was maybe mid-to-late twenties, not… his birthday was late June, so he’d only just turned twenty-two three weeks ago.

It was almost sad to think that if they’d come down here just a little earlier, then maybe he might’ve found him in time to celebrate his birthday together. Not that Miguel was exactly giving him the time of day for that right now.

He let out a long sigh, ignoring the brief stab in his side as his ribs protested the movement, staring down at Miguel, wishing he’d stop being so stubborn for once in his life.

“You’ve been showing up a lot recently.”

The softly accented voice to his left caught his attention, making him snap his head around to face it – reluctantly tearing his gaze away from admiring his old crush. It was the same man who’d been with Miguel the first night, leaning casually against the balcony railing, glass in hand, looking down towards the cage instead of at the person he’d just initiated conversation with.

Eli actually checked around them briefly to see if perhaps he’d been talking to someone else.

The stranger chuckled, glancing over to him, gesturing to his head. “You stand out, Mohicano^[12] and I like to make note of any new regulars.”

He really didn’t know what to make of the man, but he was being friendly enough and he seemed to have a close relationship with Miguel. Perhaps this could be an opportunity to get some more information? Shrugging, he returned his attention to the cage, where the two fighters were finishing their warm-ups.

“There’s some good fighters here,” he said, keeping his voice as casual as possible.

There was a warmth to this guy’s laughter that put Eli strangely at ease, he was normally wary of strangers, but something comforting in his subtle smile made this guy feel… trustworthy. And familiar in a way he couldn’t quite place. “There’s one good fighter here and you know it, you only pay real attention to Miguel’s matches.”

Had he been that obvious?

“You have a good eye, he is a talented boy, hard working too.” He took a slow sip of his drink, sighing as he leaned more heavily against the railing. “Ahh, if only we could have started him training when he was just a bit younger, we could have made him a world champion.”

Eli blinked at that. “You trained him?”

The man waved away the suggestion like it was ridiculous. “No, no, not in the techniques at least – though I introduced him to the man who did – but I have guided him into becoming the fighter he is, gotten him this gig here, among others.”

“You’re some kind of coach then?” he asked, mind already working overtime to find a way to use this connection to his advantage.

The man gave him another soft smile.

“I’m his father.”

Oh.

Shit.

Of course he’d known that the whole reason Miguel had left in the first place was to find his dad, Carmen had revealed the contents of the letter he’d left his family when Eli had gone to her begging for answers after his disappearance. But he’d never actually considered that his friend might’ve succeeded in his mission.

Was that why he’d never come home? Because he’d found this man, found someone who was actually able to take him under his wing, guide him, give him the support he apparently hadn’t received from Sensei Lawrence or Mr LaRusso?

He’d found what he was looking for, so what reason did he have to return home.

That thought made his heart clench painfully. What did that mean for their friendship, had he really meant so little to him? What about his mother, his grandmother, Sam, all the other people he’d left behind?

Did this man somehow mean more to Miguel than everyone else combined?

“You must be proud,” he eventually managed to say, voice tight as he watched Miguel step into the cage, the announcer loudly proclaiming his entrance.

“I expect nothing less of mi hijo,^[13] he’s going to be as successful as his father one day.”

There was something to the tone of his voice that was nagging at him, that familiarity he couldn’t nail down. This man was calm, friendly, confident and when he spoke he seemingly knew exactly how to pitch his voice to put those around him at ease. He had known someone else who spoke like this, though trying to pin down who Miguel’s father was reminding him of just left him feeling frustrated.

Despite the disorienting feeling distracting him, Eli didn’t let his eyes leave his friend down below for a second as Miguel glanced around the audience, thankfully not looking up.

“You a gambling man?” the man beside him asked suddenly, question catching Hawk by surprise.

“Not really, I prefer to make my own luck, why?”

Again, that warm chuckle sounded so similar to one he’d heard before and the way that it put him at ease was offset by the simultaneous inexplicable discomfort creeping into his bones at the sound of it.  “Care to make a friendly bet on the fight?”

Shaking off the conflicting feelings, he snorted, playing off his uneasiness with cockiness. “That’s hardly a real wager, we both know who’s gonna win.”

The man laughed louder, one of his hands lightly clapping against Eli’s shoulder a few times, he immediately tensed his body to hide his reaction to the touch, hoping that Miguel’s father didn’t notice how he flinched at first. If he did, he didn’t show it in his voice when he said, “I bet Miguel will win by KO before the end of the second round.”

It took a moment to register the words over his discomfort, though the announcer’s voice cut him off before he could reply and the fight began. As with all of the fights he’d seen so far, Miguel didn’t give his opponent a chance to strike first. Apparently he’d retained that bit of training from Sensei Lawrence, even if he’d branched into new types of martial art.

“Nah, he’s gonna win by submission, first round,” Eli eventually said after watching for a few seconds.

“Confidence, I like this about you!” The hand on his shoulder finally dropped away, leaving him feeling instantly lighter. “The loser buys drinks for the rest of the night.”

Nodding in agreement, they both turned their attention to the fight below, where Miguel was calmly holding off a barrage of hits. This guy looked like he might actually put up a bit of a fight, though Eli had absolute confidence that he wasn’t going to last long.

He knew how good Miguel was, had always been.

They danced around each other for over a minute, each darting out with precise jabs and kicks, testing distance and gradually wearing each other down, until the man suddenly lunged at Miguel’s midsection, arms preparing to wrap around him.

Miguel dropped down on him heavily, kicking his own legs back and letting his upper body fall directly on his opponent’s back, arm wrapping across his shoulder as they both ended up on the floor. The other man didn’t waste time before attempting to fight back – even pinned down as he was – reaching out to grab at where Miguel’s legs were stretched out behind him. Miguel scooted back further, then used the arm encircling his opponent’s shoulder to twist the man’s upper body inwards, locking his elbow with his hand to keep his grip stable.

Keeping hold of the man’s struggling upper body, Miguel rolled them both over, revealing the choke he’d managed to trap his opponent in, one arm wrapped tightly around the fighter’s neck and under one shoulder. Curling his body forwards, Miguel crushed his head between his stomach and his arm, pressing tighter and tighter, even walking his legs forwards enough to swing a foot out to hook around one of the challenger’s knees, pulling it up to catch it between his own, their bodies pretzeled together and Miguel choking him like a boa constrictor.

After only six seconds in that position, the hand that wasn’t trapped between them tapped urgently at Miguel’s hip, bringing the match to a rapid end only a few minutes after it’d started.

“¡La Anaconda vuelve a ganar!”^[14]

He couldn’t help wrinkling his nose at Miguel’s new nickname. Ignoring that Hawk had actually messed up when he’d first come up with his original moniker by using ‘El’ instead of ‘La’ and hadn’t found out until several months later when he started getting more serious about learning his friend’s language – Miguel had apparently been too amused by it to correct him sooner – something about it being just slightly wrong gnawed at him in a way he wasn’t prepared to analyse right now. Besides, El Serpiente just sounded better.

Miguel didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the announcer either, his eyes scanning across the audience cautiously. No doubt he was searching for Hawk somewhere out there, though luckily for him he didn’t bother to look at the upper ring where he would probably be pretty obvious standing right next to the guy’s fucking dad.

“Submission in the first round, I guess you win our little wager,” the older man said, not sounding too disappointed despite his loss.

He grinned in response. “So, you’re buying for the rest of the night?”

Not that he particularly wanted to spend the night with him, but it would be easier to get to Miguel through this man, so he could put up with his overly friendly nature a little longer.

“Of course, I’m a man of my word,” he said, pushing himself away from the railing before turning away and waving his empty glass in a beckoning gesture. Eli followed after him as they wove through the crowd, heading for the stairs that led to the lower level. “You got a name, Mohicano?”

“It’s Hawk.” The words were out his mouth before he’d even consciously thought about it, but he made no attempt to take them back. For some reason he felt it would be better to be Hawk than Eli right now.

Perhaps it was just because that was what Miguel had called him at their first reunion and the nostalgia was hitting him, perhaps he just wanted to access a bit more of that old Hawk confidence around this man who seemed to respond well to it.

“Fitting-” he chuckled, walking straight past the bar once they got downstairs “-well it’s good to know who I am talking to; my name is Hector.”

“Nice to meet you Hector. Can’t help but notice you’re walking away from the bar though.”

“Yes I am,” he said, still heading towards the club’s entrance, “come, I know a nicer place than this, we can drink, chat, I’ll even get Miguel to join us, wait here.”

He effortlessly snaked through the crowd to where his son was, patting his shoulder roughly and loudly congratulating him on his win. Eli kept close to the doors and shadows, hoping that he wasn’t spotted. This could be the best chance they’d get to talk, though he’d definitely have to figure out a way to get Miguel alone away from his father at some point.

Hector was back at his side quickly, placing a firm hand on Hawk’s shoulder and guiding him outside, mentioning that Miguel would be meeting them there.

The too-familiar touch made his skin crawl, but he tried to ignore it and not react. The man was doing him a huge favour, even if he wasn’t aware of it, no need to unintentionally piss him off just because he was a little uncomfortable. They walked quickly to their destination, a nearby bar where Hector was welcomed warmly by several patrons with light embraces and tight handshakes, he briefly introduced Hawk to several of them, though no one gave him more than a passing glance. Which suited him just fine, he could do without the extra attention.

After Hector greeted half the bar like old friends, he eventually managed to focus his attention on the guest he’d brought with him and they found a table in a quiet corner. Drinks were ordered, appetizers were brought out and they settled into idle conversation about how Hawk was finding the city and Hector’s connection to El Hoyo Verde – he owned the club, but mostly left its managers to their own devices and the promotion that fought there was run by one of his friends.

If Hector felt any of Eli’s awkwardness, he didn’t do anything to show it, just continued leading the conversation; he didn’t even seem to notice that Hawk had barely said a word for the last ten minutes.

Then suddenly the man was on his feet, waving and loudly calling out, “Miguel!”

And Eli was instantly tense for an entirely different reason.

“Mijo,^[15] come, meet Hawk! He’s a fan of yours, been going to El Hoyo Verde every night trying to catch your matches.” Hector practically dragged his son over once he was close enough to grab, pushing him into an empty seat. “¡Oye, trae más bebidas aquí!”^[16]

Miguel was very pointedly avoiding looking at Hawk, though he didn’t hide his glare, even if he directed it at the table. “I think I’d rather just go home actually, it’s been a long day.”

A waiter deposited a tray of various bottles and glasses on the table and Hector immediately picked up the closest one and shoved it into Miguel’s hand. “Don’t be so uptight, drink, relax, celebrate your win for a change, chat with your fans,” he said, pouring himself a shot of tequila and barely wincing as it went down, before shooting his son a sharp look and speaking again in a lower tone, “es una orden.”^[17]

Expression twisting for a moment before dropping into carefully constructed neutrality, Miguel nodded and took a sip of the drink given to him. “Sí señor.”^[18]

“Eso es mejor.”^[19]

Glancing between the two, Hawk frowned a little.

Was their relationship not as good as he’d assumed? Miguel was clearly not happy about being here at all. Granted that might be mostly down to Hawk’s presence here when he’d been doing everything he could to avoid it for almost two weeks, but there was also something in the way that he and his father were talking to each other and the expressions shared between them…

Obviously everyone had a unique relationship with their parents, but Eli’s own dad never took that kind of hard tone with him, even when he’d done something to genuinely earn it.

And Miguel’s reaction was more similar to how he used to speak to Johnny in full Sensei-mode than anything else.

But then again, Miguel hadn’t even met his dad before coming here. Even if Eli assumed that he’d managed to find him immediately after arriving in Mexico, their relationship was relatively new. How were a father and son who had known each other for at most five years supposed to interact? And it wasn’t like he’d never seen a strained parental relationship before; Robby and Johnny weren’t constantly fighting like they once had, but they didn’t exactly have the most typical father-son bond in the world either.

“He’s a good boy, just doesn’t know how to loosen up sometimes-” Hector turned his warm gaze back to Hawk, though he reached out to gently pat his son’s arm as he spoke “-I bet you could help with that Hawk, you seem like a guy who’s not afraid to have some fun.”

How the hell was he supposed to respond to that?

Hector was basically asking him to spend more time with Miguel, which was exactly what he’d been wanting from the get-go, but Hawk doubted that Miguel would ever go along with it, even with his dad’s pressuring.

“I mean, I’d be down for hanging out more,” he eventually said, trying to ignore the glare Miguel sent his way.

“Ya tengo amigos, Pa.”^[20]

Rolling his eyes, Hector took another drink, before turning his sharp gaze onto Hawk, though he was clearly still addressing Miguel when he spoke, “He conocido a algunos de tus amigos.”^[21] If the man noticed the glare his son turned on him, he chose to ignore it. “¿Y no crees que éste parece interesante?”^[22]

Did the man not realise that he could understand Spanish just fine? Miguel certainly knew he was fluent; he’d been the one to teach Eli most of what he knew.

But he also suspected that maybe he should keep that knowledge under wraps for now.

Besides, it wasn’t like Hector was giving him any opportunity to butt in and admit that he was able to understand him regardless of which language he was speaking in, he was already leading the conversation to a new topic.

If he was going to guess what Miguel’s biological father was like, he probably wouldn’t have landed on anything close to Hector. The physical similarities were pretty undeniable, their builds were different, Miguel a little shorter and stockier, Hector taller and more slender, but just by looking at their faces you could see the family resemblance clear as day.

However personality-wise he would’ve expected something similar to Miguel. Kind, softly-spoken – though not shy – determined and friendly, but with a surprisingly sharp sense of humour that often caught people off-guard, and always eager to please, but never to the point that it was overwhelming.

And, to be fair, there were aspects of that in the man. He was certainly friendly and he had that kind of natural charisma that had drawn Eli to Miguel in the first place, but he was less direct than Miguel was, talking around certain topics with euphemisms and vagueness, and he was apparently an extremely extroverted and popular man. It seemed that everyone in the bar knew him, as several people had stopped at their table to greet him, often receiving warm embraces or solid handshakes in return. Some of those people also seemed to know Miguel too, though he merely greeted them politely, not nearly as happy to see them as Hector was.

He didn’t seem happy to be here full stop. Rebuffing his father’s attempts to draw him out of his shell and completely ignoring Hawk’s existence.

Although he didn’t understand why Miguel had lied about it in the first place Eli was playing along with the act that they weren’t old friends, pretending he was merely a fan of the fighter, but it was pretty obvious by how Miguel was avoiding talking to him, or even looking at him, that he’d prefer not to be around Hawk at all right now.

The tension was too obvious for Hector not to have noticed, but he wasn’t drawing any attention to it, just carried on leading the conversation for all three of them, until another old friend entering the bar distracted him.

“¡Eduardo! ¿Dónde has estado viejo diablo?”^[23]

He was already on his feet, marching over to the man, arms open wide.

Eli was finally alone with Miguel. It was what he’d been hoping for all night. And he didn’t have a clue what the fuck to say.

Judging by how much his eyes were flicking around, Miguel was already planning how he could make his escape now that his father was distracted. Shit, he had to find something to say that might get him to stay put, anything, just whatever came to mind first-

“So, La Anaconda, huh?”

Miguel blinked a few times, before his darting gaze settled on Hawk, looking more than a little dumbfounded. “I didn’t choose it,” he eventually said, relaxing just a touch and taking a long drink of his beer, “I use the anaconda choke a lot, the name just stuck.”

“Sounds like you’ve been doing this for a while now.” Small talk really wasn’t his strong suit, but it was keeping Miguel seated and he did want to catch up with him as well. On more than just the big, burning questions about why he’d left and why he’d never tried to contact anyone back home.

He missed the easy banter they used to have back in school, when they could talk about anything and everything – though admittedly it was mostly karate because they were nothing if not obsessive about their mutual interest – a comfortable flow that ebbed back and forth equally, neither fully dominating, neither fully withdrawing. Eli hadn’t had many people in his life like that, who didn’t talk over him, or talk for him, but actually listened and encouraged him to speak his mind.

Honestly, he still didn’t have many people like that, though there were more now than in his teenage years at least.

“Yeah.”

But apparently Miguel wasn’t feeling like giving as much to the conversation as he once would have.

Frowning, Eli glanced over to where Hector was still chatting with the man he’d recognised, the pair laughing loudly at whatever joke had just been told. “Is there a reason you’re pretending that you don’t know me around your dad?” he asked, glancing back at Miguel just in time to see the way his grip tightened on his beer bottle.

“Not a reason I feel like telling you.” It still hurt a little hearing that familiar voice sounding so much colder than it ever had before, even at the lowest moments in their relationship. “Why’re you even still here, can’t take a hint that I’m not interested in some big reunion?”

“I’m here because I suddenly found out that a friend who disappeared five years ago has been alive this whole fucking time and never bothered to tell anyone.”

Miguel’s mouth twitched a little, though his heavy frown remained in place. He took a long drink, downing the last of his beer, but gave no indication that he was going to give any kind of response to that. Hawk felt like he was going to crack the glass in his hands if he didn’t rein in his self-control fast.

“You seriously got nothing to say to me?” Eli asked, voice so quiet that he wasn’t sure Miguel even heard him over the music and chatter of the bar.

Sighing, Miguel ran a hand through his hair. “I’m… sorry for the other night, I honestly didn’t mean to hit you that hard.”

Well, it wasn’t what he’d been immediately focused on, but the apology was welcome regardless.

“You fractured my rib dude, hurts like hell,” he said, before taking a swig of his own drink. To be fair, the worst of the pain had passed several days ago, but after everything Miguel had put him through lately he decided his friend kind of deserved to feel a little guilty.

“If you’re here drinking it can’t be that bad,” Miguel said with a snort and a brief, melancholy smile, “I’m sure you’ve had worse.”

“Probably.” He shrugged, glancing back over to Hector to judge how much longer they had alone.

The man was still very engaged in whatever he was discussing with his old friend, though they’d gone from easy grins and loud laughter to more serious expressions and hushed words. They probably weren’t going to be interrupted for a little while yet. And he was curious.

“So, you found your dad, huh?”

Miguel’s expression went completely blank. “I did.”

He was really making Hawk work for this more than he ever would have needed to in the past. “He seems nice,” he said, carefully watching Miguel’s face for his reaction.

He… didn’t have one. His face remained perfectly still. But the faint rattle of glass against wood drew his attention down. His knuckles had turned white where he was gripping the bottle so tightly and his hands were shaking, just slightly.

“Yeah,” Miguel said, his voice soft and not at all matching his tense grip, “I’m sure he does.”

“Miguel?” Eli dared to reach forwards, hovering his hand above Miguel’s without actually making contact, unsure if it would be appreciated or not. “Is something-”

“Just get out of here man-” Miguel retreated from the offered touch, pushing to his feet and looking down at Hawk with heavy, dark eyes “-get back to your own life, leave me to mine.” He grabbed three of the bottles still in the middle of the table and started walking away, pausing directly behind Eli, lowering his voice when he spoke again, “And stay away from my dad too, don’t try and use him as a way to get to me, you seriously don’t know what you’re doing here.”

Wandering over to his father and his father’s old friend, Miguel passed out the drinks he’d grabbed and easily joined in their conversation, leading them away from the table Eli was still sat at.

As the three moved away, he caught the stranger’s voice over the crowd – between the noise of the bar and the rapid Spanish it was a little tricky to listen in, but he seemed to be asking when Miguel would be fighting next – but the rest of their conversation was quickly drowned out and he was once again left alone.

He finished his drink, but didn’t bother sticking around to see if Hector or Miguel would come back. He already knew they wouldn’t.

---

“Oh look who’s back, nice of you to finally join us!” He really didn’t need to hear Demetri’s obnoxious snark the second he entered the room. “You missed out on a great dinner, we found this beautiful little restaurant, amazing food, even went to a club afterwards like you’ve been begging us to do since we got here.”

He ignored his friend while he walked over to his bed, tugging off his jacket and dropping his room key and wallet on the bedside table before falling back heavily onto the mattress.

“Sounds like you had fun,” he said, staring up at the white ceiling and folding his arms beneath his head.

“Yeah, we did actually.” Did Sam really need to lean over him like that just to glare at him? “And where were you while we were doing that? Because from your face it looks like you spent the night wallowing in misery.” He returned her glare full-force.

Things might be better between them than they were when they were kids, but he was pretty sure they would both readily admit they were each other’s least favourite person in the group.

“You don’t know shit.”

Chris’ sigh was audible from across the room. “Probably because you keep ditching us man.”

“Seriously, where have you been going that’s so fascinating every night for, like, almost two weeks?” Tory asked, nudging Sam out of the way and throwing herself onto his bed, her weight making them both bounce before the springs settled down.

I found him.

The words were itching at the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out. Miguel is alive, he’s been here the whole time.

He should tell them.

He knew that, the guilt had been eating away at him since the first time he saw Miguel. They deserved to know the truth. But he also knew that there was no way any of them would be calm about it. If he told them – if they even believed him and didn’t just assume that his desperate, lonely mind was playing tricks on him – then they would all want to go see Miguel immediately, try and convince him to come back home.

Going by how he’d reacted just seeing Hawk, he was positive that would only make Miguel push back even harder, do something even more extreme to get the reminders of his old life to back off.

“Nothing you’d be interested in.”

“Oh really? Because I think I’m quite interested in where my best friend has been disappearing off to without telling anyone anything,” Demetri said and Eli could practically hear the way his hands were wildly gesticulating along with his words.

He rolled his eyes and only spared Demetri a quick glance before turning his attention back to the ceiling, trying to ignore Tory’s amused expression in the corner of his vision.

“Look, just because we’re on holiday together, doesn’t mean we have to spend every second of every day glued at the hip; it’s not like Robby and Tory haven’t been going off on their own for date nights.”

Tory raised a brow at him, but didn’t seem to take any offense at his attempt to throw her under the bus.

Her face was quickly replaced by Sam’s again, who was now turning a little red in her anger – that was how you knew she was seriously pissed – and he honestly didn’t get why she seemed to care so much. She didn’t even like him. “They haven’t done that every single night for over a week and at least we know they’re together if something happens.”

He shut his eyes so he wouldn’t have to keep looking at her, focusing on the weight of his body against the mattress instead. “You’re worrying over nothing. What, you think I can’t take care of myself?”

“You came back one night with a fractured rib, I think that’s a pretty valid reason to worry!”

Even without looking, he could picture the way her lips must’ve twisted to produce that screech. “It’s fine, it’s healing well and I’ve been careful with it,” he said, shrugging as best he could while lying down with his hands still beneath his head. Locking every one of his facial muscles in place as the motion brought the injury to the forefront of his attention again, he prayed that he hadn’t flinched and immediately discredited his own statement.

From the scoff and the sound of Sam walking away he felt pretty confident he’d gotten away with it. He opened his eyes again, glancing around the room.

Tory was still sitting on the end of his bed, idly picking at a fraying hole in her jeans, though she was giving him an intent look that he suspected meant she wasn’t buying any of his bullshit, even if she wasn’t going to call him out on it. Sam had joined Demetri and Chris on the next bed over, all three of their faces twisting in a way that suggested a silent conversation was going on, though he couldn’t really read any of them well enough to decipher it.

Mitch and Robby were both lounging in the chairs by the window, Robby more invested in his phone than grilling Hawk – and if there was one thing that he appreciated about the guy he’d once loathed with every fibre of his being, it was that Robby knew how to mind his own shit and not get judgy – while Mitch was giving Eli a searching look.

“How’d you even crack a rib in the first place?”

“I told you already, I got wasted that night so I don’t remember.” Even if he wasn’t trying to hide Miguel’s existence from everyone, he probably wouldn’t have admitted where he’d gotten the injury from. It wasn’t like he'd done it on purpose and they all had enough reason to be pissed at Miguel without piling more on top, his friend didn’t need that. “Probably just tripped into something.”

Mitch’s frown deepened. He was actually thinking. That could be dangerous. “That… seems unlikely.”

And, always willing to back up his best friend, Chris decided to chime in as well, “And you didn’t seem that drunk when you got back.”

“Yeah well I guess the pain of a broken rib sobers you up pretty fast.” He had to get them off this topic, he was a pretty good liar but if they kept drilling down on this one point he was going to end up contradicting himself somewhere down the line. “Look, why does it even matter? I’m still hanging with you guys during the day, so what if I want to do my own thing in the evening.”

“Maybe we just want you to join us because we like hanging out with you. You probably would’ve enjoyed a lot of the places we’ve been going to,” Tory said, poking him in the leg incessantly until he kicked out at her. She easily caught his leg and, with a grin, twisted until they both landed on the floor in a heap. “C’mon dude, you’re getting sloppy.”

He snorted and untangled himself from her, leaning his back against the bed.

Everyone was still staring at him, each with a different expression and trying to work them all out was giving him a headache.

Demetri and Tory – and to a lesser extent Mitch – aside, they didn’t even care about him that much, so why were they making such a big deal out of this? If it’d been one of them who’d found Miguel they would’ve understood. Though if it’d been one of them who’d found him they probably would’ve spilled it immediately and roped everyone else into joining them in tracking him down again and dragging him home.

Maybe that would be the better option, maybe the reason that Miguel was so reluctant to hear him out was because it was Hawk who’d found him.

Would he have been so hostile towards Tory? Or Demetri? Or Sam?

“No more ditching us, we’re serious about this.” Sam was looking at the floor now, hair falling in front of her face, but her tone was unmistakeable.

He couldn’t help letting out a growl. “I don’t need a fucking intervention-”

“Apparently you do,” Chris interrupted, flinching a little when Hawk’s glare landed on him, though he wasn’t intimidated enough by him to stop talking.

It was at once annoying – because he didn’t really want to hear it right now – but also gratifying, given how genuinely terrified Chris had once been of Hawk, to know that their relationship had gotten to a point where he wasn’t afraid to stand up to him anymore.

“Everyone’s been worried about you man, between the drinking and the disappearing… for all we’ve known you could’ve been lying in a ditch somewhere bleeding out and we’d probably never find out.”

It was a nice sentiment, but old habits die hard and Eli still couldn’t quite shake the part of himself that saw compassion as pity. “Yeah, like you even care.”

Sam’s head snapped up to stare at him so fast he was shocked he didn’t hear a loud crack coming from her neck. Something in her eyes was piercing him so hard it was almost painful to hold her icy gaze, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away either.

Her shoulders were shaking and face was red with rage as she gripped the edge of the mattress with white knuckles, voice loud and splintered when she finally pulled herself together enough to speak, “I get that you’ve been missing Miguel since we got here, but that doesn’t mean you should follow in his footsteps and die on us without a fucking word!”

For a few seconds, it was like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

No sound, no movement, just a group of kids staring horrified at each other, forgetting how to breathe.

He wasn’t sure what kind of expression he was making, but something in it was enough to make Sam go pale, slapping a hand to her mouth as if that could somehow pull back the words she’d already let out.

“Shit, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- fuck.”

He’s not dead, he’s not dead, he’s not-

The temperature in the room dropped, everyone suddenly unable to meet each other’s eyes as gazes dropped to the floor, stared out the windows, skittered around the walls. But Eli couldn’t help but stare at Sam, whose trembling hands were still clamped over her mouth, breathing faltering and tears pooling in her eyes.

He should tell them now, he had no right to keep hiding this, they deserved to know the truth.

But… He opened his mouth and nothing came out.

He couldn’t do it.

It wasn’t fair to anyone, but he couldn’t risk them ruining things with Miguel more than he already had. He would tell them when he’d finally gotten some answers out of their friend, found a way to get him to come back home with them.

Except… Miguel didn’t seem to want that.

Eli still wasn’t even sure what he himself wanted- well, no, that was a lie, he knew exactly what he wanted from Miguel, what he didn’t know was what he would accept.

In the best-case scenario, Miguel came home with them, resumed his life in the Valley, made up for leaving them in the first place. A tiny, treacherous part of him silently added that he secretly wanted even more than that, but he smothered it back down.

There was best-case and then there was pure fantasy.

But, what if that was too much? Miguel had made a life for himself here, he was definitely doing well in the ring, he had his father, even if their relationship appeared to be a little strained, presumably he had some close friends here, he at least seemed to get on with the other fighters at the club. What if he wasn’t willing to give all that up?

The thought hurt – after all, Miguel hadn’t had a problem abandoning all of that when he left for Mexico in the first place – but if he really didn’t want to leave…

He at least wanted to know that his old friend was still ok, still alive, still happy.

If that meant their relationship stayed long-distance, then he could probably accept that, as long as Miguel at least re-opened communication lines with everyone at home. Perhaps it would be enough to just be able to talk with him regularly, maybe visit each other every now and then.

Again that treacherous part of him hissed in the back of his mind, that’s not enough for you.

Or maybe…

He did like it down here, the city, the culture, the food, the people.

After all, Miguel had done it, why couldn’t he do the same? Would he really be leaving that much behind? His friends were great, but he knew he was the least-liked member of the group, when it came down to it everyone had someone else they’d choose over him. Even Demetri had Yasmine; as much as they’d rebuilt their friendship over the years, as much as he trusted that the guy was being honest when he called Eli his best friend – his binary brother – he knew that things between them would always be just a little strained after what Hawk had done to him, and for Demetri his girlfriend was always going to be his priority.

And sure he’d had plans back home, a long-term goal already in the process of becoming reality before he came here with the others, but that could be reworked. His parents wouldn’t approve, but he could always stay in contact with them, visit them often enough to satisfy their fears.

The more he thought about it, the more tempting the idea became.

But he cut off that dream for now. He still had to get Miguel to sit down and really talk with him, find out what it was that was keeping him here and if there was anything that could convince him to leave before he started planning a whole new life here just to stay close to the man.

And, in order to do that, he first had to find a way to get his other friends off his back.

“Eli, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that-”

He carefully pulled his old, familiar, comfortable, stoic mask back onto his face, smoothing away any expression except mild irritation. “So, are you done?” he asked, wrestling to keep his voice quiet and calm. “Got it all out of your system?”

Sam winced, but after taking a few deep breaths and making a subtle Miyagi-Do meditation form, she quickly managed to regain her usual poise and control. “Eli, we’re just worried about you, ever since we got here you’ve been in a bad mood, like you’re-”

“Like I’m missing an old friend.” He probably sounded bitter to them, but in reality it was the guilt creeping into his tone.

“We all miss him Eli.”

There was an exaggerated sigh from the other side of the room.

“Just give him a break already.” For the first time since he’d walked through the door, Robby spoke up, finally putting his phone away and looking around at everyone else. “We’re all adults now, just let him do what he wants, if his version of mourning involves getting lost in a foreign country then whatever. There’s worse coping mechanisms out there.”

Mitch raised a brow at him. “Are there?”

Eli had never quite understood how Robby could communicate so much with his blank stares, so much so that even his autistic ass could pick up on his mood, but it was an impressive skill regardless. “Have you not met my dad?”

“Ok, fine,” Demetri said, bringing everyone’s attention back to him, “you can run off on your own, but you’ve got to keep in contact, at least answer our messages so we know you’re not dead.”

That was a fair enough request, so Eli nodded.

“And it would be nice if you could hang out with us a little more, I miss you bro, without you around I’m outnumbered by all these nerds,” Tory said with a wide grin, jabbing him in the side lightly and flipping Sam the bird when she scoffed and muttered something too quiet to hear – though given the girls’ strained history it probably wasn’t anything savoury.

They’d gotten over their issues with each other long ago, but neither of them were above a little just-barely-friendly sniping at each other.

He jabbed Tory in return and gave everyone as reassuring a look as he could muster. “Alright, I can spend a little more time with you and I won’t ignore all your messages when I’m off by myself, but it’s only because I feel sorry for Tory.”

“You promise to keep us in the loop?” Demetri was giving him a hard look; he’d clearly picked up on the careful way Eli had worded that.

He really didn’t want to promise that, because he suspected that he was going to have to break it before this was done, but with everyone staring at him so expectantly he knew there wasn’t going to be any way to get out of it.

“I promise.”

He’d just have to hope that bringing Miguel back to them would be enough to earn their forgiveness when he couldn’t keep it.

---

Chapter Text

---

Eli arrived at El Hoyo Verde later than usual, already out of breath and legs aching from where he’d practically sprinted trying to get there in time for at least a few bouts.

He had spent the first part of the night actually having dinner with the others, mostly just as a token gesture to get them off his back about constantly flaking on them. It could even have been a nice evening if he had been able to keep his mind on his friends and not spent those few hours fixating on the fact that he might be missing another chance to see Miguel again.

A match was already in progress when he arrived, though he didn’t recognise either of the fighters, so he didn’t care about it. Growling, he went to the bar, fully intending to ask if Miguel had fought already, but a familiar figure sitting at it stopped him short.

Hector grinned and waved him over, patting him on the back the second he was in range. “Mohicano, what happened to you the other night, you disappeared on us!”

“Just had somewhere else to be,” he said, shrugging the hand away as naturally as he could manage.

He was a little distracted glancing around. If Hector was here then his son probably wasn’t too far away, maybe he still had a chance…

“Miguel isn’t here tonight; he has another engagement.”

“Ah.” Well that was another wasted evening.

It was very tempting to just walk straight back out of the bar now that he knew the reason for his visit wasn’t around, but Hector was already ordering him a drink and gesturing to the bar stool next to his own. Sighing, he sat down, accepting the glass without a word.

“You know, you seem pretty fixated on my son-” Eli felt every muscle in his body go rigid, glass halfway to his mouth, unable to move “-is there anything you want to tell me?”

Risking a glance to the man at his side, he saw Hector staring, eyes fixed on him like a snake’s, even though his posture remained relaxed and open, leaning casually against the bar and idly sipping at his own drink. But the tone of his voice… it was that strangely familiar way of speaking that left Hawk feeling off-balance. A warm, calm, soothing tone, but the suggestion of a knife hidden beneath it if you said the wrong thing in response.

Now that he’d heard it again, he knew where the familiarity was coming from.

It reminded him of Kreese.

If he said the wrong thing here, he had the sudden feeling that it was going to end very badly for him. But, what was the wrong thing? What did this man want to hear him say?

Now that he’d made eye contact, he couldn’t bring himself to break it, even though he could feel it scratching under his skin, unsettling something deep inside him that had always hated looking so intently into another person’s eyes. He had to say something. Fuck, Miguel was going to kill him.

“Me and Miguel already know each other.”

The man’s soft smile widened a little. “Oh?”

He finally tore his gaze away, staring into the amber liquid in his glass, trying to ignore the ripples across its surface from where his hand was shaking. “I’m an old friend of his, from back in LA. We went to school together.”

There was a long silence from Hector and Eli did nothing to try and provoke a reaction out of him.

It had felt like the right move, it was what his gut had been screaming at him to do, but maybe it was a mistake, what if he’d just made things worse, Miguel was going to be so pissed-

“Finally, one of you admits it.”

Eli blinked, eyes snapping back to Hector, who carefully placed his drink down before meeting his gaze again.

He was giving Hawk a searching look, that ever-present hint of a smile still there, though more subdued than he’d ever seen it before. “A son I had never known existed suddenly appeared in my life five years ago, you think I wouldn’t do a little research into what he had been up to until that point?” Shit, he’d known the truth the entire time, he’d just been playing along with the lie. “I’ve seen pictures of you two together at a tournament, you trained at the same karate gym, yes?”

“Yeah,” he said, putting down his own drink and turning to face him a little better, though he couldn’t quite meet the man’s eyes. “If you already knew, why didn’t you say anything?”

He sighed, one finger tapping at the sticky wooden bar top in a slow, steady pace. “I had hoped that my son might be honest with me.”

Oh fuck, he’d gone and dropped Miguel in it now.

“I’m sure he would have,” Eli rushed to defend him, “he was really shocked to see me that first night, I mean it’s been years since we last saw each other, he was probably just a bit shaken up about it and panicked… he hasn’t exactly been thrilled to see me here either.”

Hector looked at him, expression inscrutable.

“You’re a good sort, Hawk, a loyal friend,” he eventually said, laughing softly, “other people value strength, intelligence, power, ambition, but I’ve always considered loyalty the greatest quality a man can possess.”

Hawk nodded along, though he wasn’t quite sure where he was going with this. Hector was really ramping up the Kreese-isms in his speech and it was starting to tear away at his equilibrium. He knew he’d always been vulnerable to that kind of talk; it’d gotten him into a lot of trouble in the past and, even knowing that he needed to be on guard, he could feel the silken compliments and vague philosophising worming their way through his mental defences, ready to infect his thoughts.

“I’d like to think I can trust you. Can I trust you, Mohicano?”

Miguel had warned him to stay away from his father. He clearly knew something about the man that Eli didn’t – even if he was starting to get a clearer idea of his true personality behind all the apparent friendliness and cheer – but…

He closed his eyes and took a steady inhale, held it for a second before releasing, snapping his eyes open and turning to stare into the eyes of the man next to him.

“If you earn it, yeah.”

Hector burst out laughing, slapping his hand against the bar hard enough that several people turned to see what the commotion was about. “See this, this is why I like you, Mohicano! You cut through the bullshit, you aren’t afraid to get in someone’s face and tell it like it is.” He practically jumped out of his seat and grabbed Hawk’s arm as he got up, half guiding, half dragging him towards the door, easily weaving through the crowd. “Vamos,^[24] we’re leaving.”

“The main fight hasn’t even started yet,” he said, jerking his arm out of Hector’s grip as quickly as he judged to be polite. He didn’t actually give a shit about the match, but he wasn’t sure following this man would be the best idea if he could avoid it.

Flicking dark eyes briefly back towards the cage, Hector shrugged and carried on walking. “It won’t be anything exciting, but I know where a special match is going to be happening. Come.”

---

Two of the three people at the door glowered at Hawk, already distrustful even though he hadn’t said a word.

Hector chose to ignore them, instead addressing the woman who hadn’t even glanced Eli’s way once as he’d been led up the long path through the gardens. “Alexandra, ¿todo va bien?”^[25]

“Sí, estamos listos para comenzar en quince.”^[26]

Hector nodded, telling her to begin proceedings. As they passed by the two security guards who hadn’t stopped glaring at Hawk for even a second, Hector slapped a friendly hand against each of their shoulders. “Relajarse muchachos, este es mi invitado, confío en que lo traten como tal,”^[27] he said before stepping through the open doors, leading Hawk through behind him.

He stared as they entered the manor, eyes drawn to the high ceilings and vibrant art decorating the walls. The place was a mansion beyond even the level he’d occasionally seen back in Encino, large, luxurious, decadent and – judging by the people milling about in the foyer – there was some kind of party happening.

It wasn’t a black-tie event, but Eli was feeling very underdressed in his nice-but-casual jacket and jeans combo when everyone else was dressed up for a night on the town.

As usual, Hector was greeting almost everyone he came across. Shaking the hands of the men, embracing and kissing the cheeks of the women, asking how a sick family member was doing, if their business had gotten over that rough patch, when the wedding was going to be. If there was one thing Eli envied about the man, it was how he managed to so effortlessly navigate small talk with so many people, as if he had every detail about their lives memorised and was genuinely interested in them as people.

But Miguel’s father didn’t let himself get too distracted catching up for once, always moving steadily through the room, towards the doors at the end of it, only stopping briefly to grab two glasses of wine from one of the waiters circulating trays of drinks, pushing one into Eli’s hand without asking if he’d wanted it.

Eli followed closely behind him, mostly because he knew he stood out like a sore thumb and didn’t trust that the obviously suspicious security guards wouldn’t harass him if he strayed too far from the one who’d brought him here.

“Ahh, Eduardo made it! I’m glad, he was saying it had been too long since he last saw Miguel fight.”

Hector’s voice caught his attention, though it took a few seconds for the implication of the words to settle in his mind. “Miguel’s fighting here?”

“Of course, El Hoyo Verde is more of a hobby I let him indulge in, this is where he really shines.”

“This doesn’t seem like the kind of place to watch MMA,” he said slowly, staring once again at the surroundings of the gorgeous villa. This was a place where you sipped on fancy cocktails and listened to classical music, the idea that there was going to be any kind of fight in a place like this was ridiculous.

Finally they reached the doors, the guard beside them nodded to Hector and pushed them open for him, though Hector barely spared him a glance. “It is a private event, invitation only, I organise it for my friends who prefer their entertainment less- less- que es la palabra…^[28] constricted than an official match.”

The room they had just entered looked like it was probably intended to be some kind of ballroom, though several rows of chairs had been set up along the edges of the room and the centre of the floor was dominated by a boxing ring, leaving little space for dancing. Hawk looked around, seeing people already finding their seats, drinks in hand, laughing and joking as they awkwardly shuffled between the chairs. The crowd was pretty substantial, only a tiny bit smaller than the ones he’d seen at the All-Valley Tournaments, though the set-up was definitely less professional, no scoreboard anywhere to be seen and there were some pretty thuggish looking guards posted discreetly along the borders of the room and near the ring.

“You are a man who appreciates a good fight, aren’t you?” Hector asked, leading him towards the front rows, nodding and waving to several more people along the way. “Real fights, where the goal is not to win, but to survive.”

Again, the way he was talking was bringing old memories of his former sensei to the forefront of his mind; he could so easily imagine Kreese saying those exact words he wasn’t sure if maybe he had at some point. It would certainly explain the shiver of déjà vu creeping down his spine.

Eli eyed him suspiciously. “I have some experience with real fights, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The man smiled down at him, nudging him lightly with an elbow and pointing towards the ring. “Then you’ll enjoy this.”

Already the announcer was in the ring, hyping up the audience for the oncoming bouts, making cracks at a few specific attendees that got a big laugh out of the crowd – it seemed that most of these people knew each other, or at least existed in the same social circles enough to understand the inside jokes – before thanking Hector for organising the event.

Hector merely raised his glass and gave a shallow bow, then the announcer called for silence as the first two fighters of the night stepped into the ring.

For once, he didn’t have to wait for Miguel to show up, as he was the first one to swing himself over the ropes, landing lightly on the other side. He didn’t bother looking at the audience, it wasn’t like he had any reason to expect that Hawk might be there.

Eli frowned at the man stepping into the ring with Miguel, he was smaller and skinnier than most of the guys he’d seen his friend fight against so far, definitely not in the same weight class and he didn’t have the air of a professional fighter, his gaze darting around all over the place and visibly flinching at every tiny movement Miguel made.

Though, even Miguel didn’t look as confident as he usually did. He was more noticeably tense than he had been in any of his previous matches that Eli had caught and was pacing his side of the ring restlessly, even despite his opponent looking significantly weaker than the guys he usually faced. Neither of them was wearing gloves either, just wrappings around their knuckles.

“Primer combate de la noche, reglas habituales, sin trucos, ¡pelea!”^[29]

There was no bow, no tapping of fists, no sign of respect for a fellow combatant.

Both men instantly leapt into action, the skinnier one attempting a full-on tackle against Miguel, who held his ground, crossing his arms in front of him to soften the blow, but he still stumbled back a few steps as he caught his balance.

What the hell kind of move was that? Did this guy even know how to fi-

Miguel grimaced and Eli nearly screamed as the man fucking bit his arm, teeth digging in hard enough to draw blood, before Miguel managed to slam a knee into his side, knocking him back a ways and following with a kick to keep him there.

He barely even glanced at the damage, just shook out his arm and firmed up his stance, then darted forwards himself to batter the man with a barrage of powerful punches and kicks in quick succession. Hawk wanted to shout out for the ref to step in, that should’ve been an immediate disqualification, but, going by the jeering of the crowd, no one around seemed to care. Even Miguel’s father just laughed.

“¡Tenemos una brioso esta noche!”^[30]

He stared at the man in disbelief; his son had just been bitten in a fight and he was joking about it? He didn’t even seem surprised.

Returning his attention to the fight, he’d somehow missed a lot in the few seconds he’d been gaping at Hector, because Miguel had the other man pinned to the floor and had just slammed a fist into his eye, relentlessly pounding, even though his opponent was already down. There was a lot of blood and Eli could guess who most of it belonged to.

Several hits after the man had stopped fighting back, Miguel finally let up, warily keeping his fist raised as he watched for any sign of movement, eyes wild with something he’d never seen in his friend before.

It quickly became clear that his opponent wasn’t getting up anytime soon.

Panting heavily, Miguel pushed himself to his feet and staggered back to lean unsteadily against the ropes. While the announcer called his victory and a couple of men dragged the prone body off the mat, Miguel carefully watched his downed opponent, as if waiting for any sign of movement to start attacking again.

Eli only felt like he could breathe again when he saw the loser manage to shakily sit upright once he was safely outside the ring, clutching at his bloodied face tightly as someone – presumably a medic – crouched in front of him with a first-aid kit.

Beside him, Hector growled a little, before muttering under his breath, “¿Cuántas veces tengo que decirle que lo prolongar? El chico no tiene en cuenta al audiencia en absoluto.”^[31]

Eli made a choked noise, instantly regretting it, but unable to stop himself.

The man suddenly seemed to remember the company he’d dragged to this event, turning to hit him with a penetrating gaze. “You look surprised Hawk. I thought you had been in real fights before?”

There was that kindly smile again, laying a thin coating of benevolence over an undercurrent of ice.

He was being tested again.

It was becoming increasingly obvious now exactly what kind of ‘business’ Hector was involved in and he’d allowed Hawk into that world, despite barely knowing him. This man wanted a reaction out of him and the wrong reaction could very possibly get him very badly hurt. Or worse. And it could possibly get Miguel hurt too.

He took a deep breath, carefully schooling his expression into something as neutral as he could manage. “I’ve been in plenty, but real fights don’t happen in front of a cheering crowd.”

“Ahh, this is true of course,” Hector said, smile twisting in a way that suggested he was disappointed, though Hawk couldn’t tell if it was because he’d said the wrong thing or the right thing, “but there is money to be made satisfying the cravings of the rich and sheltered, they all desire a little violence, even if they’re too weak to take violence in their own hands, so I provide that service for them, let them revel in it without having to dirty their soft, clean hands.”

As if that excused any of this. He frowned, glancing back over to the ring.

Miguel had been pulled off to the benches lined up against the back wall, where several other fighters were also sitting and a medic was talking to him, but he clearly wasn’t paying attention. It didn’t even look like he was fully present in reality, his eyes unfocused and expression completely blank. He didn’t even react to the antiseptic being practically poured into the bite wound on his arm.

His fingers tightened against the guard rail holding the audience back from the action. “And Miguel?”

“My prize fighter, not sure where he got that killer instinct, but I have nurtured it in him and it serves him well,” he said, in the same tone that a normal father might brag about his son getting good grades at school.

Hawk knew exactly where he’d gotten those instincts. His fighting was pure Cobra Kai at its worst, in spirit if not technique.

“You don’t worry about him?” It was a pointless question, any man who would let his son into a ring with a madman willing to bite an opponent hard enough to draw blood would never give a shit about him. He would honestly be more upset if Hector actually tried to justify it than if he just shrugged the thinly-veiled criticism off.

Hector did in fact quite literally shrug off the comment. It didn’t make Hawk feel any better.

“He’s a strong boy, he can handle himself,” he said with a soft, fond smile that made Eli feel sick, “he is my son after all, I have complete faith in his abilities.”

This was why Miguel had been begging him to leave, why he’d pushed back every time Eli had tried to get close.

He’d said it was dangerous, hinted that Hector wasn’t all he seemed, but… this was worse than anything he’d been expecting. How the hell had Miguel gotten dragged into all this? Surely it couldn’t be something he enjoyed, was he being threatened to participate? He glanced back over to where Miguel was resting as the next match started, he was sat curled in on himself, staring resolutely at the floor, legs jittering in place.

Yeah, Miguel definitely didn’t want to be here.

So, how the fuck was he going to get him out of this? Because if he’d been determined to get Miguel to hear him out and just come home before, now a fire had truly been lit under him to get his friend somewhere safe, no matter what.

The next few matches were just as brutal as the first and Eli was glad he hadn’t eaten anything big for dinner or had much to drink, because some of it made him feel pretty nauseous. Not that he was unfamiliar with unnecessary violence, he’d seen plenty of that at Cobra Kai, done plenty of things that still gave him nightmares sometimes, but he’d never seen a woman trying to gouge another’s eye out, or watched a man have his ear nearly ripped clean off.

And no one in the audience gave a shit, if anything they gasped and cheered even louder at the excessive displays, talking and laughing and casually sipping their drinks as if this were a show.

Hector could talk about real fights all he liked, this wasn’t any less fake than a pro-wrestling match or a karate tournament. The only thing about it that was real was the consequences for the fighters involved, they had to be desperate to be getting involved in something like this.

There was a growing murmur of excitement from the audience that drew his attention back to the ring, where Miguel was once again pacing, the dazed expression long gone, replaced with that hard, wild-eyed stare, entire body shaking in anticipation as not one, but two new fighters jumped into the ring.

Beside him, Hector leaned in conspiratorially, speaking softly with a distinct edge of pride to his voice, “Gimmick round. Mi hijo is a little too good, our regulars know he’s a pretty safe bet in a standard match, so we sometimes have to up the ante and stack the odds against the better fighters, it keeps the gamblers in the audience interested.”

Eli felt genuinely sick.

“¡Segunda asalto, dos contra uno, pelea!”^[32] The ref backed away as both the new opponents started circling Miguel in opposite directions, clearly intending to take advantage of his inability to face them both at once.

Miguel didn’t spare the man to his left a glance, immediately throwing a hook at the one to his right, stepping into the punch at the same time, putting him in the perfect position to reach down, grab behind the man’s knee and topple him over. Throwing his weight onto his downed opponent, Miguel managed to get a few hard strikes in before the second man got involved, wrapping an arm tightly around Miguel’s neck and pulling him harshly away from his ally by the throat.

They all struggled against each other; Miguel managing to break free from the chokehold only to have the other guy slam a foot into his midsection, he grabbed onto the foot before it could retreat and twisted it in a way that had the man falling back to the floor, but before he could follow up on the advantage his second opponent was back again, forcing Miguel down to the mat instead.

Miguel was holding his own, but he was never able to finish off one enemy before the other was interfering. He was taking a lot of hits he would have easily been able to avoid if he was in a fairer fight.

It was brutal to just stand back and watch it happening. Eli had spent the years after the karate war ended learning how to better regulate his emotions, control the rage that he still felt smouldering away inside him. It had taken a long time to really internalise those lessons and, despite hating the process of it at the time, he was proud of how far he’d come, proud that he could control himself so well now.

He could now go months without blowing up at the tiniest point of stress, but the embers were always still there, gently burning away, just waiting for a little fuel to burst back into full flame.

If he had to watch much more of this, all those lessons were going to go up in smoke.

Miguel finally managed to turn the tide about four minutes in – Eli’s stomach twisting into painful knots that entire time as he fought against the urge to simply jump the railing and throw himself into the ring to help his friend – when he landed a strong enough hit to daze one man, giving him enough time to deal with the other. Grappling him to the ground, Miguel manged to isolate one arm and wasted no time in grabbing and twisting the man’s wrist forcefully.

The snap echoed around the hall and Eli felt his blood run cold.

Ignoring the man’s screams, Miguel slammed his broken wrist against the mat, kicking himself away to whirl on his other opponent, now free to whale on him since his backup was too busy sobbing and cradling his arm to be saving him again anytime soon.

In under a minute, the last man was down, caught in a choke that wasn’t released until he’d fainted.

He had been trying to tap out.

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t Miguel. This was the kind of shit that Hawk had once thought separated the strong from the weak, winners from losers; the ability to forgo mercy and do whatever it takes to end the fight. He’d practiced that principle himself for far too long, done things he would always regret, because Kreese had convinced him that it was the only way he would have any value. Be a good soldier, follow orders, never back down, never show mercy.

And there was a time when that was what he had wanted to see from Miguel too. He’d wanted his friend to understand in the same way that he did after the injury that had put him into a coma that if Miguel had just ended the fight when he’d had the chance everything would’ve been better.

He had wanted Miguel to let out that ruthless side he knew everyone was capable of – Miguel had proven he was capable of it himself at Coyote Creek – partially because he’d thought it might bring his friend some closure after what had been done to him. Mostly though it was because even then Eli had felt the guilt gnawing away at him, but if Miguel was on his side in this, if he was willing to go to the same lengths as Hawk was… Well, then he couldn’t possibly be in the wrong, because Miguel was so good and he was always right about everything, so if he accepted Kreese’s teachings then that guilt would have to go away, because his best friend would never lead him astray.

It had hurt so much at the time when Hawk found out that Miguel didn’t understand, because he’d known at that point that every bit of guilt he’d been trying to crush down was entirely earned and he was never going to be able to make up for it.

As he watched Miguel staggering to his feet, an ugly snarl twisting his face into something painful, staring fixedly at the two men being dragged off the mats like a snake watching its prey…

Was this how everyone else had felt while watching Hawk become the worst possible version of himself?

Eli spent the rest of the tournament in a state of shock, barely recognising his friend as he jumped into the ring for the last match of the night, another so-called ‘gimmick round’ as Hector had called it, this time the gimmick being that Miguel was thrown into the ring unarmed, while his opponent casually slipped on a set of vicious-looking brass knuckles.

They were pretty evenly matched to start, both fighters worn down by their previous matches, trading blows and keeping their distance, however, Miguel quickly started losing ground. He’d taken a pretty bad beating in the two vs. one bout and every blow his opponent managed to land on him was enhanced by his weapons, while Miguel’s had to rely on pure muscle.

Ducking low, the man threw out a wide punch, clearly going for a liver shot, but easy enough to guard against, however when Miguel instinctively raised his leg to block it, his target changed, the metal covering his knuckles landing hard against Miguel’s knee, tearing through flesh and ripping a scream out of him.

Hawk half expected the match to end there – Miguel quickly backed away, but his cautious test showed that he couldn’t put much weight on that leg and it was bleeding profusely where the weapon had hit – but Miguel didn’t forfeit, instead keeping his injured leg just barely brushing the mat and waiting for his opponent to come at him again. Dodging the hook sent towards his head, Miguel quickly brought his arms around the man’s neck, holding his upper body tight against his own to restrict the movement of his arms.

The two stumbled in place for a second, then before Hawk could fully register what had happened, Miguel had somehow managed to hook his injured right leg around the man’s waist while throwing his left leg up and around his neck, simultaneously dragging his opponent’s upper body down, catching him in a truly reckless flying armbar that threw them both to the ground.

With a quick twist of his body, another scream cut through the roaring of the audience and Miguel disentangled himself. The other man was left scrabbling trying to push himself off the mat, grimacing and clearly trying to hold back his cries as he desperately clutched at his dislocated elbow.

Miguel’s only reaction was to rear his arm back and punch him hard across the jaw.

He didn’t try and help him up like he usually did for his downed opponents when he was fighting at El Hoyo Verde and he shrugged off the announcer with a growl when the man declared his victory by knockout.

And, as sick as seeing Miguel resorting to such brutal tactics made him, Eli also couldn’t blame him.

Principles obviously had no place in this world, it was kill or be killed.

Beside him Hector was talking, but Eli couldn’t hear a word of it. He didn’t want to, all he wanted was to run up to Miguel, drag him out of the ring and get him somewhere safe.

With the main event over, the crowd started to disperse, people shuffling out of their seats, some milling about in the ballroom, some returning to the foyer, waiters with trays of drinks and canapés making the rounds. Clearly the evening wasn’t at an end, even if the fighting was.

Hector saw a young couple he knew, shouting a greeting and casually striding over, pulling the man into a loose hug, then pulling back and turning to the woman beside him, taking her hand and lightly kissing her knuckles before he started chatting with the pair. But Hawk wasn’t about to hang around to listen to their small-talk, not when he could see Miguel limping away from the ring.

He followed after him, keeping an eye out for any security, though they didn’t seem as attentive to the backstage area, more focused on the crowd and the exchange of money as those who’d been betting on the matches went to collect their winnings.

He slipped into the room Miguel had disappeared into moments before. It was some kind of changing area where a few of the men and women who had survived the night still lingered, nursing wounds and dressing themselves. He scanned the room for any sign of his friend but couldn’t see him anywhere, just beat-up fighters and first-aid kits. However he did hear a slam nearby, following the noise he came to another door, pushing it open to face a rush of cool night air.

Miguel was just off to the side, sat on the ground, back pressed against the wall of the building, the hands pressed against his temples shaking uncontrollably.

Eli slowly shut the door behind him, a barely audible click sounding from it, but it was still enough to get his friend’s head to snap around, fixing him with a sharp – but distant – stare for several seconds before he finally seemed to recognise him.

He made a sound that might’ve been a laugh, though it certainly didn’t have any humour in it, sinking further into the wall and letting his hands drop helplessly to the dirt beneath him.

“You really don’t know when to back off.”

Eli winced; his voice sounded rough as hell, like he was trying to speak through a mouthful of gravel. He slowly approached and, when it became clear that Miguel wasn’t going to stop him, he crouched down in front of him, taking in the state of him.

His lip was split – though it had started to scab over – he’d be nursing a black eye for several days, his right knee was already looking pretty swollen and had a nasty gash in it from the brass knuckle hit, the bite from the first round had left a distinctive wound on his arm that was still bleeding slightly and there was a faint ring of bruises just starting to darken his neck. Not to mention the various bruises and cuts scattered across his upper body. Overall, he looked like shit.

It was his eyes that had Eli’s fists clenching tightly however.

Wherever Miguel was right now, it was only half in the present moment. Which was probably why he hadn’t yelled at him to leave already.

He took a deep breath to steady himself before pushing himself up and ducking back through the door, grabbing the nearest first-aid kit he could find and rushing back outside. Miguel hadn’t moved.

Dropping the kit on the ground next to him Eli crouched down again, cautiously reaching out to touch the arm that had the bite. When Miguel didn’t react, he slowly pulled it closer, rummaging in the box for some kind of antiseptic. Treating his wounds as gently as he could – though it’d never been his strong suit, he’d been injured enough times to know the basics – he manoeuvred Miguel’s body around like a doll’s, meeting no resistance and getting very little reaction, except a flinch and pained hiss when he carefully wrapped a bandage around his injured knee.

When he’d done as much as he could, he leaned back, finally dragging his eyes back up to his face.

Miguel was staring at him, far more present and aware than he had been when Eli had first found him. Meeting those eyes was uncomfortable, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away, even though he could feel the anger burning in them.

He sighed, reaching a hand towards his uninjured knee. “Miguel-”

“Don’t.”

“We need to get you-”

“No.” Miguel wasn’t attempting to shake Eli’s hand away, but he was practically trembling in place, though it was hard to say if it was from anger, fear, stress, or pure exhaustion. Miguel broke their eye contact first, tightly squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth as he ground out, “I told you to leave.”

“Did you seriously think I was going to listen?” The look on Miguel’s face told him that he hadn’t. “What the hell happened to you? How did you even get into this situation?”

“Does it matter?” Miguel asked, any anger gone from his voice as now he merely sounded tired.

His first reaction was that yes, of course it mattered. But after a few moments to breathe and think, he began to reconsider. As much as he wanted to hear the entire story from Miguel… what really mattered right now wasn’t how things had gotten to this point, it was how they were going to get him away from this.

“No, I guess it doesn’t,” he said softly, gently squeezing at his friend’s knee, “but we need to figure out how to get you out of here-”

Miguel shook his head, eyes still closed. “I’m not leaving.”

“You want to stay here? Doing this?”

Miguel had always been stubborn; it was part of his charm. He was determined and never gave up and he didn’t let his friends give up either. He hadn’t let Hawk give up, not on karate when he was first starting and was struggling with Johnny’s approach to training, not on redemption when he was still trapped in the serpent’s jaws, convinced there was no possible way he’d ever be able to make up for everything he’d done in the name of Cobra Kai.

Hell, he’d overcome an injury that should’ve left him unable to walk for the rest of his life, to the point where he could even fight in brutally unfair matches like he had tonight and win. Miguel was willpower incarnate.

And he sounded utterly defeated.

“I don’t have a choice, Hawk.”

“Bullshit.” If it weren’t for his various injures, Hawk would’ve been trying to literally shake some sense into him at this point.

Miguel didn’t give him any kind of response, he almost looked asleep, eyes still shut and body limp where it was leaning against the wall.

“Is it because of your dad?” he asked and the question finally got Miguel to open his eyes again, but instead of the glare Hawk was expecting, he just stared at the ground with a distant gaze. Apparently he’d hit on something there and he hated what he knew he had to ask next, “You know he doesn’t care about you… right?”

Because there was nothing that Hector could do that would ever make up for putting his son through this. Even if he acted kind and loving towards him sometimes – and Eli had seen enough to have his doubts about how well Miguel was treated by his father in private – no reasonable person would use his own son as a tool for profit, completely disregarding the danger he was in.

Miguel sighed, tilting his head back to rest against the rough brick wall behind him, breath hitching a little and a glossy look to his eyes that suggested he was close to tears.

But he didn’t say anything, and Eli was beginning to get the horrible feeling that Miguel didn’t believe that Hector didn’t care.

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Hawk moved his hand from Miguel’s knee to his arm and, when he didn’t resist or try to shake him off, he carefully manoeuvred himself to sit against his least-bruised side, pulling him into a side-hug. Miguel’s breathing hitched, but he let his head fall against Eli’s shoulder.

He could feel the tremors everywhere their bodies connected. Resisting the instinct to tighten his hold – he didn’t want to aggravate any of his injuries – Eli stared out into the mansion’s garden, trees little more than vague shadows in the darkness of the night, the light wind distorting their silhouettes in eerie ways and only a few stars visible, despite the clear sky. “You don’t have to do this to yourself, do you even realise how happy everyone back home would be to see you again? We’ve all missed you so much.”

“You’re all better off-”

“Fuck that!” He wasn’t going to hear it, wasn’t even going to entertain whatever self-hating bullshit Miguel had been about to try and convince him with. “You weren’t there, you didn’t see what you leaving did to everyone, what it did to me, and now I’ve finally found you again, doing something really fucking dangerous and you won’t let me help you-”

“I won’t let you help me because it’s dangerous,” Miguel said, still sounding exhausted and voice breaking a little at the edges, “look, I’m fine, will you please just… get out of here.”

“What part of this is fine?” he growled, only managing to not tighten his grip on Miguel by clenching his other hand so tight he swore he could hear his knuckles creaking.

The rage in his tone must’ve been too much though, because he could feel the body beside him flinch. Before he could try and explain that the rage wasn’t directed at Miguel – or at least it mostly wasn’t, he was admittedly pretty frustrated that he was still trying to push him away even now – he was shrugging Hawk’s arm off and shuffling away, wincing a little as the movement put some pressure on his injured leg. “Ok, no, it’s not fine, but it’s what’s happening and it’s not going to change anytime soon.”

He reached out a hand to gently grab Miguel’s arm, refusing to let him get too far away. “I’m not gonna leave you alone until we have a real discussion, you know that.”

“There’s nothing to discuss.” Miguel glared at the hand attached to him, but he didn’t try to escape his touch again. As much as Eli hoped it was because deep down he didn’t want to keep running away from him, he suspected the pained hisses he couldn’t hide every time he made a tiny movement might have more to do with his passivity.

“Yes there is, and I’m-”

“Miguel!” The familiar voice was distant, sounding like it was coming from another part of the gardens. “¿Dónde estás?”^[33]

He had never seen the blood drain from someone’s face so quickly. Miguel was immediately smacking Hawk’s hand away, weakly attempting to stagger to his feet and having to catch himself against the wall to keep from collapsing back down. “You need to get out of here, right now.”

That was probably a good idea, but he remained where he was, only standing up so that he could help steady his friend. “No.”

“¡Pinche idiota!^[34] This isn’t the time to be arguing about this, you’re putting yourself in danger.” Miguel was backing away again, still needing to use the wall to keep himself upright and looking around wildly, as if his father might suddenly appear out of nowhere, even though his voice had been quiet enough that he was probably still pretty far off.

Hawk growled, following after each of his shaky steps, refusing to let any distance remain between them. “I’m not leaving.”

“Miguel!” The voice sounded closer this time, with a sharper edge of anger to it.

Staring at the ground with something approaching terror in his expression, Miguel managed to take one unsteady breath, closing his eyes. “Ok, fine,” he ground out, “Café Gloria in Centro Histórico, meet me there tomorrow morning around ten, we’ll talk, but you have to leave now. Take that path, if you jump the fence at the back of the estate it’ll lead to a main street, once you get there stay to populated areas as much as possible and head straight to wherever it is you’re staying.”

He didn’t want to accept that, not knowing that it would mean leaving Miguel in this place, surrounded by danger, with a man who he seemed to be genuinely terrified of.

A large part of him was screaming at him to just grab his friend and drag him back to the hotel with him – he was already injured, it wasn’t like he’d be able to put up much of a fight – but, whatever was going on here was more complicated than he knew.

He didn’t want to leave Miguel.

“How do I know you’ll be there?” he asked, hands trembling, voice tiny.

Miguel gave him a strange, unreadable look, one that was unfamiliar on his face. “Guess you’ll just have to trust me, won’t you?”

And despite himself, he did. He’d always trusted Miguel. Even after everything that had happened between them. He knew that Miguel wouldn’t go back on his word.

Not that he didn’t still feel the fear clenching at his heart as he silently nodded and turned away, darting along the path Miguel had pointed out, a not-insignificant part of him wondering if that was the last time he would ever speak to his friend. But he didn’t turn back, not even when he heard the distant voices of Miguel and Hector, he kept facing forwards and followed the instructions he’d been given.

Tomorrow, he was getting answers.

---

Chapter Text

---

For being in the tourist-heavy historic centre of the city, Café Gloria was a surprisingly well-hidden place. Eli had walked past it several times before realising that the entrance was actually down a narrow alley tucked away between two buildings. It led to a small plaza, decorated with vibrant flowers and with comfortable-looking outdoor seating set up – a few people already sat with drinks chatting away – as well as the entrance to the place that Miguel had promised he would meet him.

Sighing, he glanced at the time on his phone and stepped through the open doorway.

It was just after nine, almost a full hour before the time he’d been given, and he expected to be waiting that whole hour – or possibly even longer – before Miguel turned up.

And he was going to turn up. He had promised. And Hawk trusted him completely.

He couldn’t even use needing to get up before any of his friends did so he could sneak away without having to try and explain why he wasn’t joining them for breakfast as an excuse for arriving so early. No, he’d barely gotten two hours of sleep before he’d jolted wide awake, heart racing and sweat dripping onto the sheets, at which point he quickly realised that there would be no point lying in bed stressing about… well, everything. So he instead spent most of the night looking up the café, planning the quickest route to it and opening and closing his notes app every few minutes, wanting to write down some kind of speech to give when he finally faced Miguel again so he was at least a little prepared.

Eli had typed away for hours, spewed out every hurt, ugly feeling he had into incoherent, messy words that weren’t even close to expressing everything he’d been grappling with since he first found Miguel again. In the end, he’d deleted everything without even reading it; nothing he could write was ever going to be enough anyway.

He'd been out of the room he was sharing with Chris and Mitch before six and most of the time since then had just been spent tracking this place down and trying not to have a breakdown in the middle of the street.

The second he stepped through the open doorway, he was greeted by the cheery hostess, who asked him in smooth English if he would be sitting in or taking out.

“Sitting in, I’m actually waiting for someone, I just got here an hour early,” he said, glancing over the menu idly.

“Oh, what a coincidence, there’s another gentleman who has done the same thing.” She laughed softly and discreetly pointed to the farthest corner of the room next to the windows. There, hunched over a cup, fingers tapping it in an irregular pattern, staring out the window vacantly, was Miguel.

His breath hitched a little. Well at least he wouldn’t have to wait.

“Actually, that’s who I was supposed to be waiting for,” he admitted to the waitress, forcing a smile at her joke that they at least both had equally bad timing before ordering a drink, staring at Miguel the entire time.

Inhaling and holding his breath for five seconds to ground himself, he braced his shoulders and marched over as confidently as he could, only catching Miguel’s attention when he grabbed the back of the free chair opposite him and pulled it out to sit down.

His head snapped up and Eli met the surprised – but tired – stare head on, even though the eye contact made his skin crawl.

Miguel was the first to break it, dropping his gaze back to his already half-finished coffee, taking a quick sip. “You’re early.”

“So are you.”

Neither of them said anything more until the waitress carefully placed Eli’s drink in front of him, he quietly thanked her but didn’t touch it, his attention entirely on the man opposite him.

“You look like shit,” he finally said, glaring at his bruised eye and still-healing lip. Miguel had chosen to wear a long-sleeved shirt today, but he was willing to bet the bite mark was still pretty visible and his shorts did nothing to hide the heavy-duty knee brace he was wearing – and the crutch leaning against the table certainly didn’t escape his notice – though at the very least the bruises around his neck had all but disappeared.

Snorting into his drink, Miguel turned to look out the window instead. Anything to avoid meeting Eli’s eyes apparently. “I’m aware.”

They again fell into an uncomfortable silence, taking occasional sips of their coffee, Eli staring at his old friend, half terrified that if he let him out of sight for a second then he would disappear again, Miguel looking anywhere and everywhere except at him.

He’d spent so long imagining what it would be like to be reunited with Miguel again after his disappearance.

The daydreams had started off joyful; Miguel suddenly turning up at school like nothing had ever happened and they’d do their customary fist bump before Hawk casually asked how Mexico was. Or seeing him step into the Miyagi-Fang dojo, looking worried and maybe a little ashamed, but immediately returning the hug when Eli practically tackled him.

But after the first few months, when the doubt that he was ever going to come back at all had started to truly sink in, he’d found himself unable to picture things ever going so well. His imaginings started involving a lot more tears, and shouting, and fists.

One year after Miguel had disappeared, everyone else had given up hope that he’d ever return.

No one had said it, but it was obvious. The others rarely brought him up and when they did, it was in fuzzy, nostalgic tones. ‘Hey, remember when Miguel-’ ‘I bet Miguel would’ve loved this-’ ‘Miguel would know what to do-’ ‘He was always such a good listener-’

Even Sensei Lawrence, Carmen and Rosa started speaking about him exclusively in the past tense, like they had already accepted that he was never again going to be a part of their lives.

He’d wanted to scream at them all, remind them that there was no way Miguel would abandon them all forever. He would be back one day when he was ready, he’d left to find himself that kind of journey wouldn’t be quick, just hold out hope, he’ll come back fighting, he always does.

After the third year, Eli had to accept that he’d been wrong.

Miguel wasn’t ever coming back, he’d never see him again, he’d never be able to hang out with him, spar with him, talk with him again.

He’d never be able to confess that he’d probably been in love with him since basically the moment they first met.

But, here he was, alive and… not well. Sitting across from him in a cosy little café and he wouldn’t say a fucking thing, as if he hadn’t devastated so many lives back home when he left. “So?” Eli eventually asked, unable to take the silence any longer.

They’d been reunited after five years and he really couldn’t think of a single thing to say? No explanation? No justification? Not even any curiosity about everything he’d left behind?

Miguel finally looked at him, though only for a second before glaring out the window again. “So what?”

“You’ve seriously got nothing to say to me?”

His nose crinkled a little as his frown deepened. “I’ve already said everything I wanted to say, you didn’t fucking listen.”

He couldn’t withhold the growl, though he tried to rein it in when he noticed how immediately Miguel tensed up hearing it. As annoyed as he was, after last night he’d started to get a sense of what his new life here had been like and he didn’t want to accidentally trigger a violent response by getting too openly aggressive.

When Hawk didn’t say anything in response, Miguel groaned, rubbing roughly at his uninjured eye, his voice tight when he asked, “What do you want me to say?”

Say you’re sorry. Fucking apologise. Tell me that you missed me even half as much as I missed you.

“I dunno, how about, ‘hey, it’s been too long man, how’s it been? How’s life?’”

Miguel turned his glare on Eli at that and, though he didn’t like the expression being pointed at him, it was enough that he was at least not trying to ignore his presence anymore. “You’re really gonna be like that about this?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning back in his chair and taking a long sip of his drink, “or you could tell me how the fuck you got involved in some underground fight club bullshit.”

The speed at which Miguel’s face went blank told him that’d been the wrong thing to say.

His friend pushed himself up, chair legs squeaking sharply against the tiled floor – the sound ripped through Eli’s body, making him shudder and grimace – as he grabbed his crutch and made to walk away. “Right, well since we clearly have nothing to say to each other, I’m leaving.”

Hawk’s hand snapped out to grab Miguel’s arm and he could feel how rigid his bicep instantly went under his fingers. He lightened his grip, but refused to fully let go and, even though he could easily shake him off, Miguel didn’t try to get away either.

“Ok, ok, I’ll drop it-” for now “-but can we seriously just… catch up a little?”

Miguel’s face remained hard, but he sighed, jerking his arm out of Eli’s grip and dropping heavily back into his seat. “Fine.” He grabbed his cup again, staring into the dark liquid before hesitantly asking, “So… how’s life?”

He couldn’t help snorting. “That the best you can do?”

“That’s what you wanted me to say.”

No, it wasn’t, but he wasn’t about to push the issue and make him run off again. “It’s been alright,” he said, shrugging as he took another gulp of his still slightly too-hot coffee, he grimaced a little and set it back down.

So, he was being given a chance, but it was clear that the topics he really wanted to discuss were completely off the table and Miguel wasn’t about to make any major efforts to start a conversation. His mind desperately grasped for something to make small talk about; it’d never been his strong suit, but there was one thing that came to mind quickly enough. “I graduated last month. Childhood psychology.”

“Really?” Miguel asked, voice more than a little sceptical and brow raising. He even managed a brief grin.

“Yeah really, I got plans that require an actually useful degree.”

He snorted but offered a more genuine smile. “Never would’ve seen that one coming, but congrats.”

Eli hated how soft seeing just a little of the boy he’d once known creeping back into Miguel’s expression made him feel.

“Demetri went into law,” he continued, hoping that perhaps revealing what some other friends had been up to would get his attention, “he’s already got an internship lined up, Sam majored in education, but last I heard she was pretty burnt out on it so she might look for work in something else, Chris studied physical therapy, Mitch just barely managed to scrape through a history degree – pretty sure he has no plans for the future whatsoever – and Robby-”

Miguel’s face suddenly twisted in an expression that could’ve been shock, could’ve been anger, could’ve been distress.

Oh, right, he’d upped and left before he got to see Robby attempt to make amends for everything. Last time he’d been in the loop, Eli had hated the guy with a passion, lingering resentment for nearly killing Miguel in the school fight only fuelled by the de-hawking incident. Of course he was shocked to hear Hawk say Robby’s name with anything but vicious fury.

He coughed, anxiously fiddling with the spikes at the back of his head. “Uh, so, after the All-Valley Robby realised how much of an asshole he’d been and came back to our side. Took a while for him to start making up for everything he’s done but, well, I was hardly in any position to try and deny anyone the chance to make up for past mistakes.”

Not that he’d been happy about it at the time, but even at the time he’d known it would be beyond hypocritical to kick up a fuss about it when he’d been given just as much undeserved grace.

Honestly, he couldn’t even be that annoyed that Robby seemed to be accepted back so much quicker than he had. He quickly found out that when you were on the same side, Robby was a pretty nice guy, while Hawk had still be struggling to shake off his worst impulses back then.

“Relax, you don’t have to justify anything.” Sighing, Miguel tapped agitatedly at his cup. “It’s been a long time, I’ve got bigger problems in my life than Keene, if he’s made up with you… then I’m glad.”

He didn’t sound it. But he also clearly didn’t want to have that discussion right now.

“Right, well Robby didn’t want to go to college,” he continued, trying to sound casual as possible, “but LaRusso practically forced an apprenticeship on him instead, I mean he was pretty much always guaranteed a job at the dealership no matter what anyways, and we uh… we made up with Tory too.”

Miguel looked just as surprised as he had about Robby, but this time he looked more relieved than upset. “She doing ok?”

“Yeah, she’s gonna be starting med school soon.”

Another smile crept across his face, genuine and soft. “Sounds like her, she always used to talk about becoming a doctor, I bet she fought tooth and nail to get there.”

He snorted, nodding in agreement. She really had fought for it; he’d been more accepting of Tory’s desire for redemption than he had been for Robby, mostly because they had at least been friends at one point before the stupid karate war tore them apart, but she’d also done her part to repair her broken friendships and build new ones with former enemies.

As they settled into a not-quite-so-uncomfortable quiet moment, a thought came to his mind. “Did you ever hear about what happened at the All-Valley?”

Broad shoulders shifted in a shrug. “Didn’t need to, you beat Keene’s ass, right?” In the past, he might’ve said that with a cocky lilt, back when they were teenagers who still felt like they had a point to prove to the world, but now… he sounded so matter-of-fact, like he had complete confidence in Hawk that didn’t even need to be backed up with anything more.

He suspected he might be blushing just a little, but if it was pointed out he was absolutely going to blame it on the morning heat. The fact that it was pretty mild today didn’t matter.

“It was a close match, but yeah, I won in the end.”

“’Course you did,” Miguel said, with a familiar little grin that made Hawk want to reach across the table and punch him for depriving him of it for so many years. Or possibly kiss him.

Or both.

He knew he couldn’t just leave it at that however, so he forced his lovestruck smile back down and continued, “Sam lost though.”

Miguel blinked, his own grin dropping as the implication him. “Oh.”

“Cobra Kai won, LaRusso and Lawrence were forced to close their dojos.” He grabbed his cup and sipped at it, despite its now lukewarm temperature, mostly just to keep his hands occupied. “A lot of shit went down then. Would’ve been nice to have you around for it, but we all survived, mostly unscathed-” eventually anyway, he knew that everyone in the combined dojo and several former cobras had needed a lot of therapy when all was said and done “-it’s kinda hard to believe things ever got so batshit in the first place, the karate war was seriously something else, dunno how more people weren’t arrested after everything went down.”

He tried to gauge his friend’s reaction, since he didn’t look like he had much to say in response, though what was there to say? Sorry that I wasn’t there to help, I was a little too busy getting pulled into my dad’s illegal fighting ring?

Like he’d said earlier, Miguel had bigger problems in his life than a petty war that had ended years ago.

“Well, that’s all over now anyway, everyone’s moved on I guess, what with college and all. The others are all here too,” he said, hoping to maybe get more out of him, “a kinda graduation celebration trip.” Eli didn’t actually expect that he would want to meet them – or rather he selfishly hoped he wouldn’t, given how much he had been trying to avoid Hawk until now – but maybe the prospect of catching up with some more old friends might entice him a little.

“Sounds like fun.”

Or not. He finished his drink in a large swig, carefully placing it down on the table. Had he perhaps stepped on another landmine? “You, uh…”

“Nah, I haven’t even graduated high school,” Miguel said it casually, but the regret was deeply ingrained into his expression. Clearly he wasn’t happy about that whole situation. “Formal education wasn’t a priority for my dad.”

“Yeah and neither’s your safety.” The words left his mouth before he even thought to try and stop them.

He bit his lip, waiting for Miguel to just get up and leave. He wouldn’t even have blamed him; Miguel had made it clear already that he wasn’t willing to touch on that subject.

But he didn’t run, didn’t even make any effort to get up. Just shrugged lightly and returned to staring back out the window with a completely blank face. “It is what it is,” he said and the last time Eli had heard him sound so defeated Miguel was in hospital, still grappling with the fact that he might never again be able to walk, let alone fight.

Eli couldn’t stop his hands from clenching, so he shoved them in the pockets of his hoodie to at least try and hide his agitation a little. “You’re seriously satisfied with that?”

After a prolonged pause, he simply shrugged.

“Have you tried going to the cops or anything?”

Miguel actually laughed at that, though it had a nasty edge to it that made Eli tense up. “The cops? Here?” he asked, voice incredulous. “I can guarantee you there were multiple police chiefs at last night’s event, Dad personally invites them, with a nice little ‘donation’ for their continued support.” He subtly looked over Eli’s shoulder to scan across the room behind him, before dropping his gaze back to the table as he said in a much lower voice, “Besides, my hands are far from clean.”

Hawk felt his face heating a little. Right, that had been a stupid idea. “Then why don’t you just run away? You can come with me and the others, we’ll all go home together-”

Dark brown eyes, exhausted and sharper than he was used to, glanced at him briefly, before flicking away again. Those eyes had always made him feel so warm in the past, but right now they left him cold. “You think I wouldn’t quit it if I could?” he asked softly.

“Well apparently not, since I’m here trying to offer you an out right now and you’re not taking it.”

“He’s my dad, Hawk,” Miguel said, burying his hands in his hair and tugging at the messy curls, “it’s not as simple as just leaving and, even if it was, I don’t want to leave.”

Breath catching in his throat, Eli stared at his friend, waiting for him to offer some kind of justification for his absolutely ludicrous statement. But Miguel didn’t say anything more, just continued gazing hopelessly into the dregs of his coffee cup, pressing the heels of his hands tightly against his temples.

“Bullshit,” Hawk said and he could hear the tremble to his own voice, “I don’t believe that.”

“Look,” Miguel said, slowly pushing himself to his feet again, though he didn’t make any attempt to leave, “whether you believe me or not, I only agreed to meet you to give you some closure. This is my life now, I got myself into this mess and I’m not looking for someone to rescue me or some shit, it’s not your problem and I don’t want you, or any of the others, to get involved.”

“I want to help you.”

Miguel glared down at him. “Yeah? Like you helped when you told my dad that we already knew each other?”

He froze.

“Dad doesn’t like liars.” Miguel’s voice was muted, distant, as his hand drifted to his own shoulder, gripping it tightly even though his wince suggested that it caused him pain.

Eli felt his blood run cold. “What did he do-”

“Doesn’t matter,” he snapped, before his gaze softened – just a little – and he turned away. “I got off pretty easy, considering, but I doubt you’d get the same. My dad isn’t someone to cross, the fighting isn’t the worst part of his business, it’s just the worst part that I’m involved with. You won’t help me by putting yourself in danger, so just… go home. Please.”

This time, Eli didn’t try to stop his growl, jumping to his feet and moving to try and force Miguel to meet his eyes. The man took a few steps back to try and get some distance, hissing when he put too much weight on his sprained knee, nearly stumbling back into the table.

Hawk reached out to steady him, but couldn’t keep his voice calm when he spoke, “You’re such a hypocrite, you keep talking about how much danger I’m in, but you’re the one who’s beat to shit-”

“I’ve got nothing to go home to, so stop wasting your time.”

The world seemed to turn on its axis, his breath knocked out of him in a sharp gasp.

Miguel should have just punched him in the gut. It would’ve hurt less.

Eli could only watch helplessly as his old friend walked past him, gait slow and careful as he manoeuvred around his injured leg, even with the crutch to stabilise him. It was only when he sensed Miguel stopping behind him that he dared to turn and face him again.

“I hate that things have to be this way but…” Miguel looked at him one last time, giving a bright grin that didn’t touch his eyes. “It was really good to see you again, I have missed you.”

He walked away, limping slightly and Eli couldn’t bring himself to try and stop him. He could barely keep himself upright, leaning heavily on the table as he watched the man who’d once meant the world to him – who always would, judging by how off-balance he’d felt since finding him again – pay for their drinks with a smile and hesitate for just a moment in the doorway.

For a second, he held out hope that his friend was going to turn around, rush back over, apologise, promise to never leave him again.

Miguel stepped through the door without looking back.

---

The pollo motuleño looked incredible with its bright, warm colours and rich, spicy-sweet scent, but it might as well have turned to ash once it reached his mouth.

Eli chugged down half a glass of juice to try and wash the unpleasant flavour and texture away, but that didn’t taste any better either. No one else seemed to be having the same issue, all commenting on how delicious everything was.

Today they had hiked up Ajusco, admired the amazing views from the mountain and had stopped in at a restaurant on their way back down. It was built close to the edge of a cliff, perfectly situated so that the outdoor seating area offered a view of the city below.

Maybe if they had come here some other time he would have been able to actually taste the food, admire the scenery, but his mind was still stuck circling his last interaction with Miguel a few days ago. Around him, everyone was chatting casually, discussing their meal, the hike they’d just been on, their plans for the rest of the day and he could hear every word buzzing around him – even the conversations of strangers happening several tables away – but it was all turning into an indistinct wall of noise that he had neither the capability nor the desire to try and decipher.

And the smells were too strong as well; someone must have ordered something with a lot of lemon in it because there was a sharp citrusy smell he could feel in the back of his throat that really wasn’t mixing well with the sweet cinnamon wafting from Sam’s horchata two seats down from him.

Closing his eyes and stifling a groan, he ducked his head, subtly pulling the sleeve of his jacket over his nose to block out at least some of the overpowering scents.

He didn’t usually get this bad and, even when he did, he could normally push through an overload better than he was now. Maybe it was just everything else going on in his life at the moment that was making it worse than usual.

He jammed his tongue against the back of his teeth, finding a sharp-edged incisor to run the tip of his tongue along. He was forcing all his attention on that predictable, controllable sensation when a hand suddenly grabbed his arm, tugging him to his feet and dragging him away, all while his unfocused mind struggled to catch up to the world moving around him. He was carefully pushed down into a chair and it might’ve been a few seconds or might’ve been a few minutes, but he did eventually manage to bring his senses and breathing back under some semblance of control.

He glanced at Tory and Robby who were both leaning against the balcony together, quietly chatting about some film trailer that’d just dropped.

This area was away from the main restaurant and thankfully empty of anyone else.

“Thanks guys,” Eli managed to say, rubbing at his temples and praying that the mild headache that was starting to develop stayed at the level it was currently at instead of building like it was threatening to.

Tory looked down at him, a hard smile and knowing look on her face. “No worries, sensory overload?”

“Something like that.”

He leaned back into the deck chair he’d been shoved into, looking out over the vista before him. It wasn’t often he had an overload intense enough to make him shut down like that, but he was glad that he had at least one friend who could see the signs and knew how to get him out of an overwhelming situation without making a huge deal of it. Even if it meant dragging her boyfriend along with them.

Hell, Robby was probably just as glad to get away. They hadn’t talked much about it, but apparently they had some similar issues on that front.

Letting out a long sigh, Eli sat up straighter in the chair. “Ok, feeling better now, we should probably get back to the others,” he said, though he didn’t make any attempt to actually get up.

“They can survive without us for five minutes, you stay put.”

He rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue with her and settled back down, staring out at the view of the city, absentmindedly tapping his thumb against each of his fingertips in turn.

Where was Miguel right now? What was he doing? Was he with his father, being forced into something dangerous? Or was he just living his life like he had been for years, a life Hawk didn’t have any place in anymore…

I’ve got nothing to go home to.

How could Miguel believe that? He had so much waiting for him back home. His mother and grandmother both still missed him dearly, as did Johnny, even if he didn’t show it quite as openly as the Diaz women.

And all their friends would definitely want him back. As much as they had mostly moved on, their group just wasn’t quite the same without him, Miguel had been the glue holding them together, a leader to balance out Sam who everyone could respect and who cared equally for everyone. With him gone it’d been obvious how the power vacuum had shifted towards the Miyagi-Do members of the group, the Eagle Fangs and original Cobra Kais had learned to adapt, but Mitch, Bert and Tory had all admitted to Eli that they didn’t feel that the others really respected them, even if they were all friends now.

But Miguel had been one of the few who had been able to embrace Miyagi teachings without ever losing the bold, confident spirit that Johnny had given him.

There would be a lot that he would need to adapt to if he came back with them now, for sure, and there would definitely be a lot of difficult conversations he’d need to have with several people before things could even start getting back to how they’d once been, but to say that he had nothing to go home to…

Did he just not want any of them back in his life?

“It’s about Miguel, isn’t it?” Robby’s voice cut through the thoughts swirling around and around in his head, snapping him back to reality.

It took a few moments for the words to really sink in, but when they did Hawk’s entire body went rigid in a second. Oh shit, had they found out somehow? Had they followed him at some point and seen him with Miguel?

But, no, that was stupid, there was absolutely no way that anyone else would’ve been able to stay this quiet about knowing their old friend was here, not even Robby, who had an extremely complicated relationship with Miguel. Even if they weren’t anywhere close to friends, Robby had gone with his dad to try and retrieve Miguel when he originally ran away. Perhaps he hadn’t chosen to go, but he had chosen to stay and help when he’d been given the option to leave and he’d been just as reluctant to return when circumstances had forced him and Sensei Lawrence to abandon their search.

If Robby had found out, he would have told his dad straight away that Miguel was here. And if Johnny Lawrence knew that Miguel was here then no force on Earth would have kept him from driving down and resuming his mission to bring the kid home, kicking and screaming if need be.

Robby wasn’t looking at him, instead staring out at the beautiful view, but when he spoke up again it was clearly directed at Eli, “Look, we’ve all gone through it on this trip in our own ways, we all get it.”

He sighed. “I thought we were done with the interventions.”

“This isn’t an intervention,” Robby said, finally looking at him with eyes that were at once firm and understanding, “if you wanna keep disappearing to do whatever it is that you’ve been doing, then I’m not gonna try and stop you. If it’s helping, if it’s going to get you to a place where you can let him go, then you should keep doing it.”

But he didn’t want to let go; that was the issue. And now that he knew what the fuck he’d been going through, Eli knew he wouldn’t be able to ever sleep soundly again unless he was sure Miguel was safe, whether he came back home with them or not.

However… Miguel had made it pretty damn clear he didn’t want Hawk’s help. How was he supposed to claim he was doing all this for his friend when it wasn’t what he wanted?

“I think I might just be making things worse actually,” he admitted, staring down at his hands and picking at a hangnail just to keep his mind focused and not spiralling. He wanted to talk to someone about it so badly, wanted a second opinion, reassurance that he was right to keep chasing after someone who’d been doing nothing but pushing him away, because it was for his own good, even if Miguel couldn’t see it yet-

Even without saying it aloud he could hear how wrong that sounded. Maybe Miguel was right to not want him back in his life.

“I’ve been doing so much lately to try and-” he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from slipping and just blurting out everything he’d been keeping from his friends for weeks, but managed to find an acceptable half-truth “-try and get past this block, but now I’ve hit a wall and I keep pushing but it’s just ended up hurting more.”

“That usually means it’s working,” Tory said, as she nudged his knee lightly with her foot.

It definitely isn’t working.

Robby sighed and sat on the chair next to him, giving him one of those hard stares he was so good at. “Look, what do you want? Really want, what would make you happiest right now?”

I want Miguel back.

Something in his expression must’ve changed, because Robby gave him a grim smile. “You know what it is?”

“Yeah.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

Miguel. Hector. Himself.

“It’s… complicated.”

“No it fucking isn’t, it’s just fear,” Tory said, throwing herself into Robby’s lap and reaching over to poke Eli hard in the chest with a sharp nail, “and you don’t get over feelings by ignoring them, you’ve gotta tackle them head-on, make your fear your bitch.”

Robby snorted and wrapped an arm around his girlfriend’s waist. “I’m telling my therapist that one, she’ll get a laugh out of it.” His gaze hardened again as he turned it back to Eli, but there was an honest understanding there that even Eli could see as he continued, “But she’s right, you’re not the kind of guy who usually runs away from his problems, normally you go charging right into them consequences be damned.”

If you’d told Hawk five years ago that Robby fucking Keene was one day going to be cheering him on and giving him life advice, he probably would’ve killed you for even suggesting it.

“Careful, you guys are almost sounding a little bit Cobra Kai there,” he said, unable to keep the grin off his face.

Anyone else in the group might’ve taken that as an insult, but these two understood what he meant.

“Say what you will about Kreese and my dad, they had a half-decent core principle about being bold and determined and not giving up, they just piled a whole heap of shit on top that turned it toxic,” Robby said with a shrug, “but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with knowing what you want and chasing after it with everything you have.”

“Exactly!” Tory smacked Robby’s thigh before pointing at Eli. “You’ve been spending too much time with Sam and Demetri dude, I know Cobra Kai turned us all into assholes and yeah a lot of it we needed to ditch, but I remember how confident you used to be back then. I miss that guy, he’s not been the same since.”

He let out a huff of laughter, an almost-forgotten feeling starting to build inside of him.

“Just keep chasing after what I want, it’s that easy?” he asked, tracing along the wing of that familiar indomitable spirit that had been sleeping for far too long. His next breath felt deeper and clearer than any he’d taken in a long, long time.

His friends sat up a little straighter, apparently picking up on the shift in his mood as they grinned widely at each other.

“It’s not,” Robby said, kicking his girlfriend off his lap and standing up, holding a steady hand out to him in invitation, “but since when have our lives ever been easy?”

Hawk gave a grin of his own and accepted the hand that helped drag him up to his feet, turning to look across the city one last time.

From this height, it felt like he could almost stretch out his arms and fly.

“Thanks you two, now c’mon, let’s finish up and get back. I’ve got something I need to do.”

---

Tory and Robby were right.

They might not have realised exactly what the problem was, but they’d somehow managed to give him the perfect advice anyway.

If he wanted Miguel back in his life – if he wanted him to stay in his life – he was going to have to face this. No more backing away, no accepting defeat.

He was going to keep chasing after him until he found a way to keep him safe, no matter what, whether Miguel came back home or stayed in Mexico for the rest of his life. And if keeping him safe meant staying here with him, then he would do that too.

But, if he was going to do this, he couldn’t have his attention split, couldn’t afford any distractions. This was too important to him.

Miguel was too important.

So he bundled up all the guilt he’d been carrying around with him for almost a month already and rolled it into a tight ball, knowing that it wasn’t going to be getting any smaller anytime soon.

It was in fact about to get a whole lot bigger.

The only ones in the room with him were Chris and Mitch, both notoriously deep sleepers – it was why they’d been paired with him in the first place, anyone who was sharing a room with him would have to deal with his alarm going off during the night – as long as he was careful and didn’t make too much noise, he should be fine.

Swallowing that ball of guilt as deep down as it could go, he started pacing around the room, gathering all his things and shoving them into the one suitcase he’d brought with him.

Luckily he travelled pretty light and he’d kept everything relatively organised, it didn’t take long to remove any evidence of his existence from the room. After one last sweep and a quick check to make sure that his roommates were both still fast asleep, he grabbed his bags and headed to the door.

His hand was already pushing down the handle before he hesitated.

Sighing, he turned back around, digging through the bedside tables for a pen and notepad and writing a quick note for his friends.

It wasn’t deep, or emotional, or even very thoughtful, but it got across the point well enough.

There’s something important I need to do, so I’m gonna find somewhere else to stay. I’ll be fine. Don’t come looking for me. I’ll message you whenever I’m able.

It wouldn’t satisfy anyone – hell he’d be pretty insulted if one of them had left this note for him – but it was all he could bring himself to write. What else was there? How could he possibly explain everything with mere words on paper? He had to wonder if this was how Miguel had felt when he had run away. If it was, he understood a little better now why he had chosen to simply drop off the map with only a single letter to his mother and grandmother to explain his disappearance and a few brief, vague texts to his friends.

And at least he had let his family know what was going on.

Eli knew he should probably send a message to his own parents as well, explain to them that he was going to be fine, because he had no doubt that Demetri was going to contact them the second he found this note. But if he told them he was splitting from everyone else to go traipsing about Mexico City alone… he knew what his mom was like.

They still deserved to know.

It was past three in the morning, even with the time difference his parents would usually be asleep by now. He didn’t want to wake them up in the middle of the night and get them panicking, so he wrote an email instead, idly wondering as he did why it felt so much more distant than just messaging them, even though it was all text on a screen at the end of the day. His message to his parents wasn’t that much better than the one for his friends, though he was careful to leave more assurances that he’d be fine and promise that he’d be in contact with them soon enough and they didn’t need to worry about him.

Then he blocked almost every important number on his phone, disabled notifications for and logged out of every social media app he had, grabbed his bags and snuck out of the room; Chris and Mitch none the wiser.

Hopefully everyone would forgive him one day.

---

Chapter Text

---

El Hoyo Verde looked different in the daylight. There wasn’t much of a crowd outside and there wasn’t the thudding music drifting out into the street like there had been every other time he’d come here.

The last few days had given him some much-needed time to think; he had found a small hostel in La Merced to stay in – not the nicest place in the city but it was closer to where Miguel seemed to be living and it wasn’t like he cared about having a luxurious space to stay anyway, it was really just a place to sleep and make plans – and had spent most of the time since he’d got there planning, researching and occasionally unblocking Demetri’s number just long enough to send him a message letting him know he was still doing fine before immediately blocking it again. But mostly he was planning.

And his first plan was to gather more information about Miguel’s new life.

He could keep showing up at the club hoping to catch his matches, however that was unreliable and it meant there would be a higher risk of Hector being around. Miguel wasn’t going to open up to accepting his help as long as his father was anywhere nearby, he’d realised that much already, so he would have to find out where else he could find his old friend, hopefully places that wouldn’t have any connection to Hector so they could talk more freely and without that threat looming over them.

Of course, in order to find out where that might be, he’d have to start at the first place he’d found Miguel.

The club wasn’t anywhere near as busy as it was in the evenings, but he still made the effort of scanning every corner of the place for any sign of either Miguel or Hector as he made his way inside.

Neither of them was around, which was what he had been hoping for.

Shoving his hands in the pocket of his drab, oversized hoodie as he stepped fully into the place, he blew a lock of hair out of his eyes. He’d left it down for once and even dyed it back to its natural brown – he’d been coming here often enough that there were probably plenty of people who would recognise the white guy with the bright blue mohawk – and he was already getting annoyed with how it kept falling into his face.

There was also a distracting feeling of weight on his upper lip.

Even without the hair, he still had another pretty distinctive identifying feature that he knew would give him away instantly. After two hours spent with several makeup tutorials apparently made by fucking wizards, he had managed to hide the scar, at least well enough that you would have to be looking really close to see the hint of it. The temptation to wipe away the surprisingly heavy foundation was making the back of his skull itch, but he resisted the urge using the same breathing techniques and subtle stims that helped keep his anger in check.

As uncomfortable as he felt, it should be enough to keep anyone from recognising him; he needed be fairly discreet in his little intel mission if he wanted to keep under Hector’s radar.

He started with the staff behind the bar, casually asking them if they got to see much of the fighters outside of the cage. Apparently some of them did hang out after their bouts, but Miguel wasn’t one of them, a young barmaid did point out one of the guys that he seemed to talk to the most though. Thanking her, he headed directly to the man, who was sat with a few other fighters, judging by their physiques, laughing over drinks.

“¿Hablar Inglés?”^[35] he asked, trying to keep his tone friendly instead of wary and deliberately butchering the pronunciation.

It might not be necessary, but he was pretty sure that Hector didn’t realise he could speak Spanish and, knowing now what kind of a man he was, Hawk felt like he needed every advantage he could get. Miguel’s father seemed to be well known in these parts and he couldn’t guarantee that some of these guys weren’t on his payroll, if any of them happened to recognise him and mention anything he wanted to keep as many aces up his sleeves as possible.

Most of them nodded, giving him suspicious looks, studying his face intently and he had to clench his hands tight against the back of the empty chair he’d approached to stop himself from reaching up to cover his mouth. He’d done a good job, he’d covered it well, they were just wary of him because he was a stranger approaching them out of nowhere.

Even after all these years, he still couldn’t quite let go of that fear, that people could take just one look at him and be able to see how little he was worth.

But even if they looked curious, or cautious, none of them made any comment, so he forced a smile onto his face and focused on the one who’d been pointed out to him by the barmaid.

“I’ve seen some of your fights, you’re really good, where’d you learn?” He was only half lying, he had seen this guy fight a couple times and he would probably be a fairly tough opponent, but he hoped that he was managing to convey some convincing fanboy enthusiasm in his voice.

The man shrugged and waved at the empty seat in invitation, indulging him in some banal chit-chat, Hawk playing the part of an MMA fanatic – helped by some intensive research he’d done the day before – who just wanted to hear more about the scene down here. He desperately wanted to drag the conversation onto the real reason he was here, but he didn’t want to be too obvious either, so he let the men get to that talking point on their own.

It only took twenty minutes anyway.

The youngest guy in the group slapped the back of Eli’s best lead, Cristopher Estrada, after he’d bragged about being able to kick any of their asses a dozen times over. “Talk big all you like vato,^[36] you’re up against the champ tonight, right?”

Hawk tried not to look too excited, but his eyes swivelled around to the one who’d spoken, the same man who’d fought against Miguel the first night he’d found him again, he vaguely recalled.

“Cierra la puta boca^[37] Jason, we all saw how quick you got taken down when you went up against Salazar. Last two full minutes against him before you start talking shit next time,” another fighter said with a laugh, jabbing him heavily on the shoulder and dodging the elbow aimed for his face in response.

It was still strange hearing people call Miguel Salazar instead of Diaz. He knew it was likely at Hector’s behest, to form a more direct familial link between them, but he wondered how Miguel felt about it.

“La Anaconda’s not fighting tonight.” Everyone glanced over to Cristopher, who had apparently been slated to face Miguel later. He took a long drink before continuing, rolling his eyes at the looks being thrown at him, “Just heard about it a few hours ago from the boss; he had to pull out at the last minute, fractured knee.”

Several men hissed in sympathy, but Hawk could only try and hide the way his knuckles tightened by shoving his hands into his pockets.

Automatically, Eli’s mind pulled up a memory of Miguel’s last fight and the opponent who had landed a brass-knuckled fist on his friend. He already knew the injury was bad, but hadn’t realised his knee had actually been fractured. Of course there was no way he could fight in that condition.

“Again? It’s amazing he ever gets to fight at all with how often he gets injured during practice.”

He was ready to snap that it wasn’t a training injury, but manged to clamp his mouth shut at the last second. These guys didn’t seem to know what was actually up with Miguel, apparently any injuries he got in his other gig were passed off as ‘training accidents’ and he didn’t want to think about how many times Miguel had been hurt that he had a reputation for getting such injuries among the members of this group.

Jason had a deep grimace on his face. “That’s gonna put him out of commission for a while though, yeah?”

“Apparently it’s a stable fracture. The boss said Miguel seemed pretty confident he wasn’t going to need surgery, a few weeks of rest and he should be back in the ring,” Cristopher said with a shrug.

“Guess they’re gonna be scrambling for a replacement, at least you’ll get an easier win tonight.”

The man nodded, but didn’t look particularly happy about it. Hawk could understand the feeling, he’d been pretty devastated when Miguel pulled out of their match at the All-Valley finals. Mostly because he was worried about his friend of course, but also because he’d been really looking forwards to facing off against the one who he had always considered his greatest rival, or at least the rival who he most respected. His most worthy opponent.

But this was as good an opener as he was likely to get so he took his chance, trying – and probably failing – to sound casual as he said, “I’ve seen him fight a couple times, he’s pretty impressive.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah there’s a reason he’s el campeón^[38] around here, worst part is you can’t even be mad at him about it because he’s so nice, even after he’s just done giving you the beating of your life.”

“So, you guys are friends with him too?” Hawk asked, idly sipping at his drink.

“We hang out a little, wouldn’t call us friends, he’s nice but he doesn’t really choose to spend time with us.”

“Nah, that’s not true,” Cristopher said, frowning into his beer for a long moment before downing the last of it, “he used to hang with us all the time, it’s only in the last couple years he stopped joining us on nights out.”

Another fighter whose name he hadn’t caught spoke up, “El Huracán^[39] still sees him a lot, I know they go for drinks pretty often.”

Hawk frowned a little; that wasn’t a name that had come up any time he’d been here before. “El Huracán?”

“Tadeo Munoz. He doesn’t fight anymore, not after he blew out his shoulder a year back, but he coaches some of the newer guys,” Cristopher shrugged, waving to the bartender to bring over another round, “him and Miguel used to be rivals in this promotion, but they’ve always been real tight.”

Another fighter who’d kept pretty quiet until now snorted into his drink. “That’s one way of putting it,” he said with a distinct snicker.

Raising an eyebrow, Hawk glanced between the members of the group, who had expressions ranging from resignation to amusement to confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Cristopher narrowed his eyes at the snickering man. “You should ask them about that, not us.”

He couldn’t have asked for a more perfect lead-in. “Maybe I will,” he said, shaking his head at the offered drink when a bartender came over with a tray, though he did tell her to put the round on his tab, “any ideas where I could find either of them?”

“Why’re you so interested anyways?” one of the older fighters asked, a suspicious glint in his eye.

He was so damn close, as long as he didn’t fuck up at this point he could consider this mission a total success. It all relied on his acting skills.

Luckily, he’d been acting most of his life.

“I-” he put on his best dopy, embarrassed grin. It wasn’t difficult. Miguel generally had that effect on him anyway. “I’m… kind of a big fan of El- La Anaconda, dude’s submission game is fucking insane, I really wanted the chance to meet him before I have to go back home but if he’s injured then I guess he won’t be showing up around here. I figure my best shot now would be to find him wherever he usually hangs out.”

Several of the fighters exchanged glances, but Hawk maintained his hopeful expression, silently praying he was coming off more as a harmless fanboy than a potential stalker.

The lack of response went on just long enough to make him worry, before Cristopher shrugged and leaned across the table to grab a random flyer.

“No idea where Salazar spends his free time these days, outside of his gym-” but he wasn’t going to be training while injured, that much didn’t need to be spelled out “-but Tadeo’s a predictable guy and he’ll know how to contact him, if you wanna talk to him I can give you a list of places to check out.” He grabbed a waiter as he passed and asked to borrow a pen.

Hawk thanked him, trying not to sound overly relieved as he eagerly watched the pen skittering across the back of the flyer.

He took the list and scanned over it; he didn’t recognise any of the places but he hadn’t been expecting to. This was a good start though, hopefully this guy could lead him to Miguel, or at least give him a little more insight into his life down here – from how the fighters had been talking about them it sounded like they were friends – what he’d do from there he hadn’t quite figured out yet, but he would just have to cross that bridge when he came to it.

“Thanks for this, really, you’re the best,” he said, still fighting to keep too much honesty from creeping into his expression.

They didn’t need to know what this could mean for him.

Jason frowned at him. “I dunno, you’re still probably gonna have a hard time tracking him down, I mean you don’t even know what Tadeo looks like, right?”

“I’ve probably got a picture of him somewhere.” Cristopher chuckled softly, already flicking through his phone until he made a sound of success, “here, second from the right, that’s Tadeo.”

Hawk stared hard at the group photo of Cristopher and several other fighters, trying to memorise every distinguishing detail this Tadeo guy had – pointedly ignoring the grinning Miguel standing next to the man he was supposed to be focusing on – before the man offered to just send him the picture. Part of him was starting to get a little suspicious at how helpful they were being, but he wasn’t about to turn down any leads he could get his hands on.

He thanked them all again as he prepared to leave – blowing his hair out of his eyes again as it fell forwards, tickling at his forehead – but was stopped before he could reach the bar to pay his tab.

“Hey-” he slowly turned around and glanced back at the group and specifically Cristopher, who’d been the one to call out to him “-if you do manage to speak to Miguel, remind him he owes me a rematch.”

You and me both.

Snorting, Hawk nodded once, before paying and heading back out into the late-afternoon sunlight.

It wasn’t much, but he had some leads to follow now, all he could hope was that they would take him to the right place.

---

He’d spent three days working his way through the list of Tadeo Munoz’s regular haunts that had been given to him by the fighters at El Hoyo Verde. Most of them were bars and clubs scattered across La Merced and so far the only thing he’d gotten for his efforts was a headache.

Asking around had confirmed that his target was often seen at each place he’d been pointed to, however he still hadn’t caught him yet. Even after working out a route that would allow him to hit up every place in just over an hour and spending the third day repeatedly walking that route until his aching feet and pounding head had forced him to call it and return to the hostel.

And now for the fourth night, he was already treading the same path again, immediately scanning the bar the second he entered, looking for anyone matching the photo saved to his phone.

Nothing.

Groaning he ducked back out as quietly as possible, hoping that the staff there weren’t starting to click that he’d been in seven times over the last two days and hadn’t stayed longer than ten minutes and had only bought one drink in that time. He knew it was bad practice, but he also wasn’t here for the bars themselves and if they didn’t have the person who could bring him another step closer to Miguel, then he had no reason to stick around.

He had to wonder what kind of a guy this Tadeo was though; apparently he was something of a party animal, if how many people had immediately recognised either the name or the face in the picture he had occasionally shown while gathering intel was anything to go by. The main things he’d been hearing were ‘el payaso pelón’,^[40] ‘parlanchín chismoso’^[41] and ‘gilipollas loco’.^[42]

So he was probably the Mitch of Miguel’s new friends. Could be worse.

His feet were already starting to sting with each heavy step as he made his way to the next bar, which was thankfully only a block away from the last one and a good thing too since the usual evening shower had started up. Ignoring the complaints of his soles, he hurried his pace to get out of the rain a little faster, shaking the worst of it off the second he was inside, before immediately glancing around to look for his target.

This was one of the nicer places on the list, a lively atmosphere, music and dancing and laughter filling the entire space. If he didn’t have a mission to focus on, he’d probably quite enjoy drinking here.

A particularly loud laugh drew his attention to the far end of the bar. Hawk dug through his pocket until his fingers wrapped around his phone. He pulled up the photo he’d been using and holding it up, it was undeniable that the man leaning against the bar – waving a nearly-full glass around uncaring of the liquid spilling down over his hand – was the same one he’d been trying to track down for several days, Tadeo Munoz.

It didn’t matter though, because Hawk’s eyes had skittered across to the man standing next to him, who instantly became infinitely more interesting and suddenly no one else in the room even existed.

Part of his brain, the more cautious, sensible part that Demetri and Sam had been urging him to listen to more for years, begged him to be patient, watch from a distance before approaching, come up with an actual plan before engaging.

It was easily drowned out by the part screaming fuck that, he’s right there, strike now.

He stalked up to the bar, placing himself as close to Miguel’s back as he could without triggering an instinctive violent response – though he did notice how his broad shoulders tensed just a little at the presence, even if he didn’t turn to look behind him – before he loudly signalled the bartender and ordered a drink.

Miguel slowly twisted around, eyes already hard and lips pulled into a tight line. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Hey man, small world, huh?”

His injuries seemed to be healing better at least, the black eye was barely a faint shadow now and he was wearing short sleeves this time, letting Hawk see where the bite to his forearm had mostly healed, though there were some subtle indentations there if he really looked hard. He wondered if it might leave a scar.

He wondered how many other scars Miguel had that were easier to hide.

There was also a notable bulky shape under his jeans that showed he was still wearing the knee brace however.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Getting a drink.” Hawk waved at the bar in explanation, trying his best to appear relaxed despite being able to feel his pulse racing in his neck.

From his expression, it was clear that Miguel wasn’t buying any of his bullshit. “Plenty of places in the city to get a drink.”

“I’ve already ordered,” he said, at the same time as his beer was dropped on the bar in front of him, he thanked the bartender as he took it and grinned at Miguel as he took a long sip, “and this place has a nice atmosphere.”

Leaning around Miguel to insert himself into the conversation, Tadeo Munoz raised an eye as he scanned Hawk up and down, likely taking in his unusual style. He had brought back the hawk and dyed it red this time; there was less need to be undercover now that he wasn’t in Hector’s territory and he just felt naked without it.

The man was a fair bit shorter than both Eli and Miguel and pretty damn jacked for a guy who apparently hadn’t done much fighting recently, but he had a cheerful, open face that offset any intimidation factor his stocky frame might have otherwise given him.

“You know this guy Mig?” he asked, glancing up at his friend.

“Yeah.”

After almost a minute with both Tadeo and Hawk watching Miguel expectantly, they realised that he wasn’t planning to elaborate any further.

Tadeo nudged Miguel with his elbow. “What, you just gonna leave it at that?”

The silence and stony expression made it very clear that, yes, he was just gonna leave it at that.

Rolling his eyes, the man reached across Miguel and stretched out a hand towards Hawk instead. “Well, since Miguelito wants to act like a pendejo-”^[43] Tadeo ignored the light smack he received from his friend for that comment “-I’m Tadeo, nice to meet you man.”

“Hawk.”

Tadeo’s grin widened. “Yo, badass name! Hey you look like a fighter too, lemme guess, muay thai, taekwondo?”

“Karate.” He couldn’t help frowning a little; this guy was way too friendly. Was this gonna be another Hector situation? But Miguel had been completely relaxed chatting to the guy before Hawk had turned up, so he would try to reserve his judgement until he’d gotten to know him a little more. “Me and Miguel were in the same dojo back home.”

“No way-” Tadeo gave him a wide, boyish grin that didn’t suit a man who honestly looked like a bit of a thug, before reaching up and swinging an arm across Miguel’s shoulders “-always forget you used to do all that karate shit Miggy.”

Miguel’s eye twitched a little, shrugging the arm off. “You wanna watch yourself talking to the guy who’s used that karate shit to beat your ass so many times, ese.”^[44]

“And maybe you wanna watch yourself talking to the guy who’s taken your ass so many times, mi amor.”^[45] He supplemented his comment by brazenly slapping Miguel’s backside, receiving a slight grunt for his efforts.

Hawk didn’t know if his face was red from embarrassment or anger, but he knew it was burning and he knew that something was churning his guts to hell and back.

Miguel barely reacted to the assault, but then… his face dropped into the kind of expression that Hawk had never even dared to imagine he might see on his friend, a confident smirk pulling at his lips as he leaned in to speak in Tadeo’s ear, though he didn’t bother to lower his voice much over the loud background noise of the bar. “You almost sound like you’re missing it, you been thinking about me when you’re all alone in bed again ¿Papi?”

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fu-

The man clearly only had one thing in mind when he tilted his head up to reach towards the lips hovering at his ear, his own filthy grin in place and one hand already sliding around Miguel’s waist. Hawk could feel his nails threatening to break skin where they were digging so hard into his palms.

He’d been working hard to break old habits, not resorting to violence whenever he was confronted with strong feelings he wasn’t well equipped to deal with and, for the most part, he’d been pretty successful at keeping himself in check, but this… this threatened to break every scrap of self-control he’d managed to gather over the past few years.

Luckily, before he could snap like an overstretched elastic band and launch himself at the man who wouldn’t stop touching his old crush, Miguel made the move for him, slamming his elbow into Tadeo’s ribs with just enough force to make him stumble back a step.

“Ah! ¿Qué carajo?”^[46]

Miguel took a swig of his drink, rolling his eyes at his friend’s overreaction to what had pretty obviously been a pulled punch. “Tenías tu oportunidad, no deberías haberme dejado si todavía querías follarme.”^[47]

“You’re torturing me, Miguelito,” Tadeo said, leaning into him again in a way that had Hawk literally biting his tongue to stop himself screaming at the guy.

“Nah, torture is what’s gonna happen when David finds out you’re still hitting on me every chance you get,” Miguel said with a grin, though he gently patted Tadeo’s shoulder when the man immediately tensed up, “relax I’m not gonna tell him, he already thinks I’m planning to steal you back, though God knows why I’d want to. Honestly surprised he hasn’t dumped your worthless ass already.”

Eli managed to make a strangled noise that drew both of their attention before finally finding his voice again.

“You two… dated?”

A distinctly uncomfortable expression passed across Miguel’s face. Apparently he’d forgotten that they had an audience. “A little.”

“Best he’s ever had, right bebé?”^[48] Tadeo said, going for another spank that was thankfully intercepted by Miguel’s quick reflexes before Hawk could throttle the man.

Miguel snorted, taking another long swig of his drink, then leaned casually back against the bar, grinning at Tadeo. “Well, you had to have something going for you, because it definitely wasn’t your looks or personality.”

Tadeo attempted to look offended, but within seconds he was laughing his ass off and grabbing his own beer again, managing to keep his hands to himself this time.

Hawk couldn’t stop the glare he sent piercing into the man if he’d wanted to, but he managed to unclench his fists and take a deep, steadying breath.

They did genuinely seem to be friends, even with a clearly complicated history between them. They were joking around about their relationship, but, as far as Hawk could tell, neither of them felt bitter about it – though he suspected that Tadeo would be more than willing to follow through on his flirting if Miguel wasn’t shutting him down so consistently.

But that left him with a pretty big revelation about his old friend that honestly left Eli feeling both elated and terrified.

“So,” he said slowly, struggling to keep his voice even, “you’re bi then?”

Miguel winced, eyes skittering away from him.

Was he expecting Hawk to react poorly? Admittedly he would’ve liked to have found out in basically any other way than seeing him and his ex-boyfriend hitting on each other so shamelessly, but the news itself definitely wasn’t bad. It was good actually. Great.

But, it was also dangerous.

He’d just about managed to cope with his one-sided crush when they were teenagers because he had been able to accept that it was an impossible dream. Miguel was straight. He was straight and he was obsessed with Sam to an unhealthy degree. Hawk had absolutely no chance with him. Eli was barely even fit to look upon him.

If he had sometimes fantasised about how things could’ve been if those immutable facts hadn’t been true when he was alone and desperate, then that was his own business and Miguel didn’t ever have to know about it.

Hell, he didn’t want him to know how much he had always been in his thoughts.

But now…

Hope was a terrible thing.

Miguel sighed, taking another drink, free hand lightly tapping at his leg restlessly. “Yeah, I kinda knew back when we were kids too, though I guess I only ever told Tory, huh?”

Wait, Tory knew? When the fuck had that happened? It must have been while they were still dating because they’d basically never interacted after that point. Tory herself had come out as bi not long after joining the combined Miyagi-Fang dojo, so maybe it had been something they’d bonded over?

“I guess so. Though… you’re not the only one.” He immediately downed the remainder of his beer – which was over half the glass since he’d gotten a little distracted by everything Miguel and Tadeo had going on – rather than look Miguel in the eye. His cheeks were burning and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. “I haven’t actually come out to anyone yet either though.”

When Miguel didn’t react for several long moments, he risked a glance over at him.

There was definitely something to the expression on his face, though Hawk could barely read it, a little embarrassment, a little sadness, a little joy. Maybe it was just that strange connection of one queer person finding another, he had felt that weird confusing delight himself a few times, even if he’d never had the courage to come out himself; it was nice just knowing he wasn’t alone in the world.

“Oh, well, uh, thanks for telling me, I guess?” Miguel eventually managed to stutter out, more shy than uncomfortable. He had a sudden painful memory of the first time they’d met, how awkward Miguel had been, but still kind of cute at the same time.

He coughed, wishing he could physically force the blood to stop building in his cheeks. “Yeah, same.”

Tadeo snickered as he glanced between the two, but before he could make whatever comment he had planned, the dulcet tones of Metallica suddenly emerged from Miguel’s pocket.

He jumped in place before reaching down and glaring at his phone. “Gotta take this,” he mumbled as he drifted outside to the bar’s quieter garden area. Hawk just about managed to catch the “¿Sí Pa?”^[49] above the chatter of the other patrons, so it was obvious who the call was from.

Immediately his mood soured.

He’d been hoping to avoid any talk of Hector, it hadn’t occurred to him that the man might call Miguel even when he was out with a friend.

Speaking of friends, Tadeo was grinning widely at him. “Sooo… how long you been into him?”

Going rigid, Hawk glared at the man. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh, you keep telling yourself that,” he said, dropping his empty glass on the bar and signalling for another two. Within seconds of the drinks being placed on the bar he was already sipping at one, even as he pushed the other closer to Hawk’s elbow in invitation. “So wait, are you the reason Mig’s been so moody lately?”

Hawk frowned, glancing over to where he could see Miguel through a window, sitting on one of the outdoor benches even despite the light drizzle that hadn’t stopped yet. “Moody how?”

“Y’know just… not himself, almost every time I’ve seen him over the last couple weeks he’s either been kinda pissy or kinda depressed.”

He wasn’t sure that he wanted to be having that kind of effect on his friend, but… it would make a certain amount of sense, Miguel hadn’t exactly been shy about expressing how much he didn’t want Hawk sticking his nose into his life here. Though it also suggested that the volatile, frustrated Miguel he’d been seeing for the last few weeks wasn’t his usual behaviour and that maybe the fun, happy guy he had known years ago was still in there somewhere.

Not knowing how to respond to that, Hawk just shrugged and accepted the drink he had been silently offered.

“Well whatever, I bet you two have a lot of fun stories from back in the da-” Tadeo cut himself off as Miguel stepped back into the bar, only to brush right past the two on his way to the door. “Oye, oye, oye, ¿a dónde vas?”^[50]

Miguel only paused long enough to call back over his shoulder, “Pa quiere verme.”^[51]

And then he was gone, leaving both men staring after him.

Hawk blinked, torn between wanting to run after him and knowing it would probably not go down well. The growl behind him was enough distraction to make him turn back however, to see Tadeo glaring at the entrance of the bar Miguel had just disappeared through. “Juro que ese tipo hace esta mierda a propósito,”^[52] he mumbled into his drink.

“¿Mande? ¿Qué carajo se supone que significa eso?”^[53] Hawk said, bristling and not caring to hide it. Was this guy seriously getting on Miguel’s case just because his dad had called him away? Did he not know what his father was like?

Light brown eyes blinked at him a few times. “You speak Español with the same accent as Miggy,” he said with a surprisingly genuine smile.

And just like that his cheeks were burning hot again. Why was that something Tadeo had even picked up on and why did it feel like such an intimate revelation. Obviously he had a similar accent to Miguel, he was the main person he’d learned from.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, redirecting the conversation to something less embarrassing and trying desperately to ignore his blush.

The man’s grin suggested he was reading all sorts of things into his reaction – and clearly he’d already picked up on Eli’s feelings, even if he refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting it – but he didn’t press the subject. Instead he let out a frustrated sigh and took a long drink. “His padre^[54] does this all the time, Mig gets a night to himself for once and then he gets a random call and has to go running off to deal with whatever it is he wants.”

Great, another reason to hate Hector. He’d been needing more of those.

Those it did raise a question. He glanced over at Tadeo, trying to judge from his expression if it would be safe to ask it.

There was a slight frown pulling his brows together that he hadn’t seen on the guy’s open, friendly face before now and his shoulders had raised a little higher. The lower tone of his voice also suggested he held no love for Miguel’s father.

He took the risk. “Do you… know much about his dad?”

Tadeo’s shoulders tensed up immediately, but he kept an impressively level voice when he spoke, “Good man, lotta friends. You don’t hear people saying bad things about the guy-” he shrugged with a kind of faux casualness that even Eli could pick up on “-not more than once anyways.”

A warning; this wasn’t a safe place for that discussion.

He nodded, dropping the subject. Although he wasn’t about to claim he liked the guy – not when he was still feeling pretty jealous about how openly he could flirt with Miguel when Eli felt guilty just letting his eyes linger a little too long – it seemed that Tadeo could be a potential ally here. Or at the very least he wasn’t an enemy. And he was definitely his best insight into Miguel’s life here outside of all the shit going on with Hector.

“Then I’ve got another question for you-” he placed his drink down and turned to stare at Tadeo, waiting until the man put his own drink down and gave him his full attention before continuing “-is Miguel happy here?”

“Uh…” Tadeo blinked, clearly caught off-guard by the question. “I mean, sure, sometimes?”

He frowned, was that answer deliberately evasive, or was he just that thrown by the bluntness of what Hawk had asked?

“What does sometimes mean?”

“No one’s always happy, flaco.”^[55] Hawk frowned at the nickname but didn’t kick up a fuss about it. Tadeo was looking pretty uncomfortable, and when Hawk refused to drop his intent stare he even started to get a bit flustered, stuttering a little when he said, “Look if you’re asking if he ever misses home, then yeah, he does, he doesn’t talk to me about it and any time I’ve asked him he gives me the silent treatment for days after, but you can always tell when he’s feeling homesick.”

“But there’s things he likes about life here too, right?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Well yeah, there’s people he likes, he’s got something good going at El Hoyo, even if I keep telling him he should be aiming higher, get into a bigger promotion-” Tadeo had been trying to talk Miguel into going pro? “-but I’m guessing what you really wanna know is if he’d give all that up and go home with you, yeah?”

Hawk finally broke eye contact at that, dropping his gaze to burn into the floor instead.

There was a brief jolt to his arm as Tadeo nudged him lightly, drawing his eyes back up again. “You’re asking the wrong guy, I can’t speak for Mig, buuut… personally I reckon he’s probably got more going for him back there than he does here.”

Eli had to bite down sharply on the inside of his cheek.

It should’ve been a comfort, but it really, really wasn’t. “That’s not what Miguel thinks,” he muttered, remembering the last time they’d talked.

I’ve got nothing to go home to.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to prove it to him.” Tadeo said, as if it was that simple. But then again, maybe it was. “Look he can get kinda skittish about letting people get close, but just keep at it and he’ll come around eventually, that’s what it took to get him to date me.”

His nose crinkled at the reminder of his crush’s past relationship, but he did genuinely appreciate the rest of Tadeo’s advice, even if he still kind of wanted to punch him. “Thanks.”

“No problem, and hey, if you want tips on getting him into bed-”

“Ok, I’m seriously gonna hurt you if I don’t leave right now,” he said, finishing his drink and pushing himself away from the bar, he paused before walking away however. “Give me your number,” he demanded, holding his phone out to the man and he only let Tadeo raise a single eyebrow before he cut off the obnoxious comment that he had no doubt was about to follow, “you’re not my type asshole, I just might need your help setting up another meeting with Miguel.”

The man laughed. “Ese, are you really asking me to organise a date for you and my ex?” he asked, though he reached for the phone regardless.

“It’s not a date and you were offering me tips on how to bang him literally ten seconds ago, you’ve already lost whatever moral high ground you had.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I’ll message you later.”

Ignoring Tadeo’s comment about his offer always being open, he stepped out into the night, air pleasantly cooled by the light shower that had now petered off and set off for the hostel, ready to start making more plans. He wasn’t ready to give up on his friend just yet. Hopefully he wasn’t so late that Miguel had given up on himself.

---

Chapter Text

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The ceiling fan had a slight tilt to it that made it spin in an off-kilter pattern.

It was one of the many things he’d noticed about the hostel room he’d been staying in. One of the floorboards had a slightly loose nail that would catch on unsuspecting socks or the trailing hems of too-long pants; the door didn’t shut properly unless you pulled the handle up after closing it; and the morning sun came through the tiny gap in the blinds at the perfect angle to wake you up at six-thirty on the dot, every single morning.

They weren’t even annoyances anymore, not exactly, they were just things he’d started to subconsciously work around. He barely even noticed as he automatically stepped around the jutting nail that he'd already lost two pairs of socks to as he paced the room.

That probably meant he’d been spending too much time here. He certainly hadn’t done anything of note in the week since he’d last seen Miguel.

He tried to convince himself it was because he was busy trying to work out his next move, and he had been trying to do that, but every time he sat down to think it was like his mind just went spinning out of his control to fixate on some inconsequential detail of his new environment. Easier to let that happen than grapple with the fact that he had no fucking clue what to do.

He’d texted Tadeo several times since getting his number, but outside of the guy updating him when he had heard from their mutual friend and letting Hawk know how Miguel seemed to be doing – as well as providing some wildly unnecessary comments that Hawk was absolutely going to punch him for the next time they saw each other – he’d been of little use, simply saying that if he’d ever been able to convince Miguel to stop being so stubborn about letting his dad control his life they probably wouldn’t have broken up.

Tadeo was kind of an ass, but he wasn’t a complete idiot. Even if he was understandably pretty cagey discussing Hector’s work, he readily admitted that Miguel’s relationship with his father was kinda messed up.

And clearly Miguel knew that too, at least on some level, but not enough to accept the out Hawk was offering him.

He groaned and spun on his heel, marching out of the room – instinctively stepping over the nail, mindlessly pulling the handle up once he was in the hall so the door shut properly – and made his way downstairs. Throwing a quick goodbye to the hostel’s owner as he darted outside, he took a deep breath of the cool, damp air and let it fill his lungs, calming him slightly and clearing some of the heavy static filling his head.

It was definitely well into the rainy season now, evening showers had been a semi-regular occurrence since they’d first landed in Mexico, but for the last week it had rained almost every night. Luckily there was currently only a light drizzle, not even enough to worry about it ruining his hair, so he just sighed and stepped out into the street.

As much as he wished he could spend all his time holed up worrying what to do about Miguel, he still had a body he unfortunately needed to sustain and he wouldn’t be able to do much for him if he collapsed from hunger because he’d forgotten to eat anything all day.

Frowning lightly at the tiny droplets settling against the sleeves of his jacket, he turned and headed for the nearby food stall that had been basically the only thing keeping him alive since he ditched the hotel he’d been staying at with the others. The owner immediately recognised him and they chatted a little as he began prepping Hawk’s usual order without needed to be asked. He normally prided himself on being adventurous with trying new foods, but the tamales this guy made were bomb and he could happily eat nothing else for the rest of his life if he had to.

Once his order was complete, he jogged off to find a spot to eat that was at least a little sheltered from the light rain. It was probably around dusk, but the cloud cover made sure that only the barest hint of orange and red could be seen in the sky. He turned his head up to stare at what little of the sunset he could find regardless.

As welcome as he was for the calming air and the opportunity to get out of his own head – even just for the time it took to finish his food – Eli couldn’t keep his thoughts quiet for very long.

He should probably go back to the hostel already, he had eaten, that was the only reason he’d come out in the first place, so now he should get back to planning how to get Miguel to stay put long enough for them to hash it out properly. Like he’d been doing for a week already.

And how far had that gotten him? He had a kind-of ally in Tadeo and he knew that he needed to keep Hector as far out of it as possible and…

What else?

His biggest issue right now was simply that Miguel didn’t want to give him the time of day. He would sometimes put up with a casual conversation, but the second Eli tried turning things around to the more serious topics about his father, or the people he’d left behind, Miguel would throw up his defences and retreat as quickly as possible.

And it wasn’t like him, not like the person Hawk remembered at all. That kid had pestered an old man into getting his life back on track long enough to teach him karate, he’d gone all in on a girl who anyone would’ve told him was well out of his league and succeeded – even if things hadn’t worked out. The only time Eli had seen him even close to how he’d been acting now was after the school fight, after coming out of a damn coma and it’d taken barely any coaxing from Johnny to get him once again biting and clawing at the world, refusing to be kept down.

Miguel had never needed Hawk’s help before, if anything it was the other way around.

No one had ever really needed Hawk’s help. Maybe Demetri, a little, but he’d proven himself capable plenty of times since, so even with the most generous reading of that whole situation, they’d both ended up helping each other, there was no dependency there.

There had never been any situation where he’d felt so personally responsible for someone before.

And Miguel was the last person he ever would have expected to be feeling anything like that towards, he was too strong, too capable. If Miguel needed help from Hawk, of all people… well things must be seriously fucked.

It was getting harder and harder to resist going to his other friends about this for their opinions, as much as he felt in his gut that going in alone was the right way to play this, he knew how valuable the others could be in a fight and they were generally better at planning than he was anyway. Maybe that was his problem? He was trying to plan, cover every exit, account for every possibility and it wasn’t playing to his strengths. Then again his ‘strengths’ generally involved impulsively getting into fights and he wasn’t about to go picking a fight with Miguel – not least of all because the last time they’d gotten physical Hawk had ended up limping away with a fractured rib.

Sighing, he pushed himself to his feet and let them lead him away. He didn’t know where he was heading, but he just couldn’t spend another night stuck in that bare room at the hostel, tearing his hair out as he tried to figure out how he could be the one to save his friend for once.

The rain had long since stopped, leaving the city with a slight shimmer to it as the streetlights flickered on and it was pleasantly cool without being cold. A walk might do him some good, clear his head a little, stretch out his legs. His muscles felt so tight from not having a proper workout in so long, he’d practiced kata a little when he needed a reason to procrastinate on the whole Miguel situation, but it wasn’t anything like the intense sparring he preferred.

Following no path except the one directly in front of him, Eli let his feet mindlessly tread the streets, simply taking in whatever sights they had to offer – which in this part of town was slightly run-down apartment blocks and not much else – not worrying about being able to make his way back, or how long that was going to take.

Just letting his body move and his mind still, if only for a little while.

Even at this time of night, it was surprisingly busy, nothing like the tourist centres he’d been in when he first arrived in the city, but there were still people flowing around him on the street. Families making their way home, groups of friends preparing to head out for the night, those who worked the late shift reluctantly trudging to their jobs.

And the feeling of eyes on him that hadn’t left for several blocks now.

Whoever was stalking him, they weren’t doing a good enough job of hiding it.

He could feel the tension settling over him like a heavy blanket, his shoulders rising and brows pinching together as he fought against the instinct to turn around and confront his shadow. It was too crowded here, he would have to take a more subtle approach.

He hated subtle.

Slowing his pace to a more relaxed stroll, he started planning his route a little more carefully, eyeing upcoming junctions and constantly choosing the quietest street to take. It didn’t take long to find himself on a basically empty road, a dingy-looking park on one side, an apartment with only two windows lit and what looked like an old, abandoned office building on the other.

Still not looking back, he casually turned into the dark alleyway between the two buildings, immediately dropping his calm air and searching for anything that would give him an advantage. There was a dumpster halfway down, that’d do.

Charging ahead, he ducked behind it, pressing himself against the wall and resisting the urge to face the entrance of the alley. Instead, he remained crouched in a ready position, focusing on the sound of footsteps gradually getting closer and closer.

At least three people, possibly more, and they had sped up now, he could hear the slapping of shoes against the rain-dampened sidewalk. From his hiding place, he could see the shadows stretching out towards him, backlit by the streetlight near the alley’s mouth. He had a sudden sensation of déjà vu, remembering the last confrontation he’d had like this – though in that case he’d taken the role of the person foolishly stepping into range of an unexpected attack.

The leg appeared directly in front of him, he didn’t wait for an explanation, or even to see if he would be spotted.

Hawk launched himself forward, grabbed the leg and twisted until the man fell to the hard concrete, head bouncing off the ground with a dull thunk. He didn’t stick around long enough to see how quickly the guy could get up, punching him in the gut before jumping to his feet, taking a swift backstep to avoid the sloppy kick the man who’d been behind the first guy aimed at his midsection.

Taking a sharp breath, Hawk took in the full situation he’d just gotten himself into.

Five guys, including the one who was groaning on the floor, clutching at his head and stomach. So four and a half guys. Their weight classes were all over the place, though that’d never been much of an issue for him – he was used to being at least a little physically smaller and lighter than his opponents – and no one had reached to pull out a weapon, so hopefully they were all unarmed because that would be an absolute bitch to deal with.

They were also being cautious, probably thanks to the strong first impression he’d made, all of them hanging back a little. One guy helped his friend back to his feet, making a critical comment under his breath.

Hawk stayed turned towards the group, stance firm and ready to leap at the first sign of movement.

He wouldn’t even bother running, he hadn’t had a good enough look to tell if the alley behind him actually went anywhere or if it would just lead to a dead-end. And he couldn’t deny the excitement fizzing in his veins, making him feel lighter than he had in years.

None of these idiots seemed prepared to make the next move, so Hawk let his old training kick in, taking a few swift steps forwards and striking at the closest man. He dodged back, but couldn’t go far before knocking into one of his allies behind him, unable to retreat back, he could only block the front kick Hawk threw next, managing to hold his ground only by virtue of the men behind him basically holding him up.

The alleyway was pretty narrow, it restricted Eli’s movement considerably and meant he couldn’t make use of the wide, spinning kicks he’d always preferred, but the limited space worked in his favour more than his attackers. They couldn’t surround him without clambering over each other and he could keep them all in his sights at all times.

Finally they started to actually fight back, two managing to muscle their way forward enough that they could both attack at once, but they didn’t have the room to put much power into it.

He still took a pretty heavy kick to his thigh, but outside of a dull ache he barely felt it over the adrenaline of his first real fight in years.

Growling, Hawk used the space to his advantage, kicking off the wall to his left to add power to a knee strike, grinning at the nice heavy smack as his hit landed squarely against his attacker’s stomach. He followed with a wide punch, feeling the skin of his knuckles split as it caught the bone of the man’s jaw, but the other guy came out a lot more bloodied than Hawk did, so he took a little grim satisfaction in watching him collapse backwards, then immediately turned his attention onto the next man who was rearing up to tackle him.

It was easy to dodge – he was telegraphing so much Hawk could’ve been blindfolded and still seen it coming – but he wasn’t paying attention to the next challenger stepping up to his side, who managed to punch Hawk hard in the face before he’d thought to bring his arms up to block.

Fuck he was out of practice, should’ve been able to avoid that. Luckily these guys were all just basic thugs, no training, no technique, just experience fighting equally unskilled opponents.

Another swing was made at him, he saw his chance and quickly ducked out of the way, grabbing the back of the man’s shirt and giving him a good hard shove for some extra momentum directly into the nearest brick wall. He was out like a light before he even slid to the ground.

Ok, two down, three to go.

Blocking a wild kick, he took down the next guy pretty quickly, though maybe a little recklessly – he’d blocked, but his arms were gonna be bruised later for sure – before turning to the last two thugs.

One of them clearly had more sense than his buddies, because he’d pulled out a knife and both were hanging back waiting for an opening that Hawk had absolutely no intention of giving them. This time he didn’t wait for the first strike, knife-guy was on the right and was clearly the bigger threat, so Hawk darted left instead, putting the remaining attacker between himself and the man with the weapon, then kicked him directly into his friend.

As he’d hoped, these guys weren’t complete monsters and knife-guy hastily pulled his arm back to avoid accidentally stabbing his partner, which left them both open to a sweeping roundhouse, knocking the unarmed man further back and giving Hawk the perfect opportunity to grab the hand still holding the knife as the two tried to keep their balance.

A simple twist of the wrist was all it took to send the knife clattering to the ground, Hawk immediately slammed his foot on top of it and kicked it away, wincing at the scratching noise it made as it skittered along the concrete.

He didn’t give his opponents time to recover. The too-familiar crunch of bone as his fist landed heavily on the closest guy’s nose was both elating and sickening, as was the wheezing gasp the last man made when Hawk’s foot landed on his solar plexus, quickly followed by a punch to the same spot that ensured the breath he’d just knocked out of the man didn’t have a chance to come back.

Not that Hawk’s breathing was much steadier.

Panting, he wildly glanced around, making sure that everyone he’d downed had stayed there, eyeing the entrance of the alley suspiciously in case more backup had appeared from nowhere.

Only after a minute with no movement and no sound except the occasional pained groan of a man who knew better than to try and get back up did Hawk allow himself to relax, just a little bit. Forcing his breathing to a more reasonable pace – some of that old Miyagi-Do training did come in handy occasionally – he staggered further back into the alley, enough that all the men who’d attacked him were still within his line of sight, and let his back fall against the wall.

Damn, it’d been so long since he’d had to do anything like that.

Suddenly his legs couldn’t hold him up anymore, muscles spasming uncomfortably as he slid down to the floor, concrete scraping at his back as he did.

Still panting heavily, he clenched his fists as tightly as he possibly could, hoping it would be enough to use up the lingering adrenaline that he could still feel surging through his body, making it impossible to calm down.

What the fuck had even just happened?

This wasn’t just some mugging, they had been stalking Eli for several blocks before he’d confronted them and he was sure he didn’t look like an easy mark – Sam and Demetri were the ones who’d historically had issues with that kind of thing – and it wasn’t like he even had anything particularly valuable with him.

He stared intently at the closest attacker, still lying unconscious on the floor. He looked like your average thug; big, tough, he had a nice watch but nothing else of note.

And it wasn’t like they were total pushovers, sure they weren’t trained in martial arts, but if he hadn’t caught them off-guard and if they’d been fighting somewhere a little more open then things probably would’ve gone a lot worse for Hawk. Fighting was as much about location and luck as it was skill, you didn’t need to know how to perform a flying side kick to be able to punch someone really, really hard after all.

So what the fuck were they hoping to achieve? Why go to the effort of following him, why fight at all, what did they possibly have to gain-

“¡Mohicano!”

The nickname was enough to send him straight back to his feet, scrambling against the wet concrete and jerking to face the entrance of the ally.

And there was Hector, that small, ceaseless, kind smile on his face, dressed to the nines like he’d just come from a party.

“Haven’t seen you around lately,” the man said, idly stepping over a prone body, not even bothering to spare it a passing glance, “I was starting to worry where you might’ve disappeared to, haven’t seen you around the club for weeks.”

“Been busy with other things-” and he just couldn’t stop himself, even though he knew he shouldn’t tug on the tiger’s tail “-not like Miguel’s been able to fight there anyway, right?”

“No, I suppose not.”

Fucking hell, he didn’t even pretend to care.

“Must say though, I’m impressed,” he continued, either not noticing Hawk’s snarl or choosing to ignore it, “my boys should really have put up more of a fight than this, gonna have to have a word with them once they wake up.” He clicked his tongue as he nudged one of the men with his foot, muttering something under his breath too quiet for Hawk to catch.

“I told you before that I know what it’s like to be in a real fight.”

Hector just laughed, loud and long, apparently uncaring of the attention he might be drawing from anyone who happened to walk past the alleyway.

Even if it was a quiet area, he didn’t seem to have any fear of the consequences of being caught in a situation like this, surrounded by unconscious men, talking to a shady-looking foreigner – Hawk wouldn’t deny it, he knew the impression he gave off – he was probably confident that he could talk his way out of any trouble he might get into, and Hawk wasn’t going to try and fool himself into believing that he wasn’t in the weaker position here.

In a physical fight, sure, he was positive he could take him, but men like this didn’t fight with fists, they had subtler tools at their disposal.

“To be honest I thought you were just talking shit,” Hector eventually said once he’d stopped laughing, wide grin crinkling the corners of his dark eyes, making him look so much like Miguel it hurt, “but a man should never be too proud to admit when he’s wrong.”

Hawk didn’t respond, just stayed in his ready stance – not actively hostile, but prepared to become hostile in a second if needed – quickly catching his breath and trying to ignore the blaring warnings in his mind to fight, fight, fight.

Still giving him that small, confident smile, head tilted back appraisingly; in that moment Hector reminded him too much of Kreese. “I like you, Hawk, and you have some skill. I was not expecting that.”

If the man was hoping to bait some response out of him, he was going to be disappointed, because his brain was too busy spinning trying to make sense of anything that was happening right now to come up with anything to say. Why had Hector sent these thugs after him? He’d just openly admitted that he hadn’t expected that Hawk would actually win that fight, possible he didn’t even expect him to survive it, so what was the point? If he just wanted Hawk dead surely there were simpler ways to achieve that.

Eli flinched slightly as something tiny and cold lightly hit his cheek, before he felt it again a few seconds later on his hand and slowly let out his breath. It was just the rain starting back up again.

He still hadn’t given Hector a response, but the man nodded to himself regardless and spun on his heel.

“Come,” Hector said, waving over his shoulder without stopping, weaving gracefully around the men slowly starting to wake up, hissing and moaning as they stirred.

Hawk stayed exactly where he was, shifting from his non-aggressive stance to the more actively-aggressive one he found much more comfortable. The thugs glanced at him, then glanced at their boss, but didn’t make any move more hostile than standing up, Hector stopped near the mouth of the alley, not turning back, haloed by the hazy orange streetlight.

“Follow me, Mohicano.”

He couldn’t help scoffing, glaring daggers into Hector’s back.

Even as the ones who’d attacked him earlier shook off their injuries and matched his fighting stance, none of them felt like an immediate threat, not like the tall, slender man with the warm smile and the expensive-looking suit did.

“Why would I follow you anywhere? You just had a bunch of your guys attack me,” Hawk eventually said, still ignoring said guys in favour of tracking Hector’s every movement.

Narrow shoulders dropped slightly. Hector certainly hadn’t been tense before, but now he seemed to completely relax and when he turned his head just enough that Hawk could see his profile, he knew from the soft, amused crinkle of Hector’s smile that he had somehow lost without even realising it.

“You do want to see my son again, yes?”

It took everything in him to constrain his immediate reaction, but it didn’t fucking matter.

Hector had known his answer before he’d even asked the question.

---

For once, Hector seemed content to just walk in silence, not saying a word to Hawk as they made their way wherever it was they were going. He hadn’t looked at him once and, although in any normal circumstances Eli would’ve appreciated the quiet, right now he was so on edge he could practically feel his muscles cramping just from how constantly tense they were. The occasional raindrop hitting against his exposed skin wasn’t helping him relax either.

The guys who’d had the shit beaten out of them by Hawk hadn’t come with them. Their boss had in no uncertain terms told them to go home and come up with a reason he shouldn’t have them kicked out of the gang by the next time he saw them.

Still with that fucking smile on his face though. As if it wasn’t obvious what would happen if they couldn’t convince him.

Not that Hawk particularly cared about what happened to them, but it only reminded him of how precarious his own situation was. It was only the promise of seeing Miguel again that was keeping him here. He was half expecting that they were going to another of Hector’s private events, but they instead ended up outside a small, hole-in-the-wall bar, the name Castillo Escondido^[56] beautifully painted over the entrance contrasting against the bars lining every window.

Hector pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door, holding it open and waving Hawk through. As tempted as he was to just stay where he was so he could at least keep the man in his sights, he suspected it wouldn’t go down well, so he quickly stepped through and tried to hide the way his body instinctively tensed even further as he brushed past Hector.

The bar was tiny and more than a little dingy, though at least part of that likely came from the slightly uncanny sense of a place that should be filled with people being empty and dark. He used to get a similar feeling those few times when he was the last one left in the old Cobra Kai dojo at night.

With a light clatter, Hector locked the door behind them, before turning to a room to the right, partitioned only by a bead curtain.

This room was at least a little brighter and had several men – and one woman, on the older end of middle-aged, but more heavily built than most guys he’d ever seen – piled into it, sitting around a worn table playing a game of cards, though they all looked up the second Hector entered. And separate from them, leaning against the back wall, was Miguel.

His eyes skittered over his father to land fixedly on Hawk the second he entered the room.

“The fuck is he doing here?”

If he was being honest with himself, Eli wanted to ask Miguel the same thing. He’d given the impression he didn’t get involved in his father’s business outside of the fighting, so why was he hanging around for some kind of gang meeting?

Hector gave his son a distinctly unimpressed look at his tone, but his smile was back in place after only a few seconds. “Hawk is going to be joining us, he has proved himself capable and I like his boldness.” He turned his attention to the other members of his gang, who’d all stopped playing to focus their attention on their boss. “Ustedes lo tratan bien, ahora es uno de nosotros.”^[57]

“What.” Yeah, Miguel was beyond pissed.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” Hector asked, accepting the glass offered by one of the men at the table and taking a slow sip.

If Miguel had heard the steel in his father’s voice, he wasn’t showing it. “What kind of bullshi-”

A heavy thud reverberated through the air as an older man – probably a similar age to Hector, maybe a little older – slammed the bottle he’d been drinking from down on the table. “¿Crees que porque eres el cachorro del jefe puedes salirte con la tuya faltándole el respeto de esa manera?”^[58] he asked, voice low but with a rough edge.

“¿Quieres que te demuestre cuánto respeto te tengo, Saul?”^[59] Miguel snapped; his eyes boring into the man with a kind of hate that made how he used to look at Robby seem friendly in comparison.

The man – Saul – just laughed, turning his eyes to his boss instead when he spoke again, “Tu hijo es como un perro salvaje, Hector, lo mejor es que le enseñes algo de disciplina antes de que se lastime. Estaría feliz de entrenarlo un poco más.”^[60] As he spoke, he casually grabbed a pack of cigarettes lying on the table and made a show of lighting one, blowing the smoke very deliberately in Miguel’s direction.

Clearly Hawk was missing some vital context, because the way his friend’s face twisted…

He’d seen Miguel frustrated – and even angry – plenty of times in the past. But Eli had never seen him genuinely enraged before. He literally snarled and made to lunge at the man, only stopped when the sole woman in the room leapt out of her chair and held him back.

Sighing into his drink, Hector shot his son a warning look. “Miguel, si quieren pelear, háganlo en el ring donde al menos puedo ganar algo de dinero con ello.”^[61]

Those words alone were apparently enough to drain the fight out of Miguel, though Hawk could see from the tell-tale clenched fists trembling at his sides that the rage hadn’t gone anywhere, it was just being held back.

“Why did you bring Hawk here,” he asked, shaking off the lady holding him, who let him go easy enough, “you can’t be serious about him joining your gang.”

“Since when do you care about how your father runs his business, perro salvaje?”^[62]

“Saul.” Hector glared at the man for only a second before turning his full attention back to his son. “I already have an idea in mind for your friend, Miguel.”

That… probably wasn’t good.

Eli had been waiting for another attack or something, not a job offer. Not even an offer really, Hector hadn’t worded it as one and he definitely hadn’t asked what Hawk thought about it, he’d just said it, as if it was already a done deal.

“He’s going to be your bodyguard, mijo.”

Miguel’s anger was dulled by shock, glare disappearing as he blinked rapidly, and even Hawk had to admit it was the last thing he’d been expecting to hear come out of Hector’s mouth. He’d basically just dropped the perfect excuse to never let Miguel out of his sight again in his lap, but there had to be some ulterior motive. The man had already made it clear he didn’t actually give a shit about his son’s safety.

“I don’t need a bodyguard,” Miguel said, voice more than a little stunned. He was probably thinking along the same lines as Eli.

Grinning, Hector marched over to him, throwing an arm across his shoulders and leading him back out of the room, nodding at Hawk to follow behind them. “You will, now that you’re going to be taking on more responsibility in our organisation. It’s about time you stepped up.”

For a brief moment, there was only pure confusion from Miguel, before his face twisted and he harshly shrugged his father off. “I’ve told you before I’m not interested, you’ve got plenty of guys who’re way more qualified to be doing that shit, guys who actually want it.” He jerked his head in the direction of room they’d just left, where everyone had quietly turned back to their game, realising that they weren’t going to be a part of this discussion, though one or two of them were sending dark looks Miguel’s way.

“I’d like to keep it in the family, I know you understand,” Hector said, smiling warmly at his son, pressing a hand gently against his cheek, and it made Eli’s heart twist painfully knowing how insincere that action really was, “after all you left your country behind just to find me.”

Miguel’s breath hitched and Eli had to shove his hands in his pockets to resist the urge to reach out and gently hold his hand when something close to grief passed across his face.

When he finally spoke again, Miguel’s voice shook, “That was different.”

Did this man even appreciate what his son had left behind to find him? Did he know what Miguel had been hoping for from his father?

Eli couldn’t pretend he understood his friend’s decision to run away to Mexico, chasing the shadow of a man he had never met, hoping to find… something there. Something he hadn’t been getting back home, not from his mother, his grandmother, Sensei Lawrence or Mr LaRusso. And that desperation had brought him here, to a man who Eli was sure wasn’t giving him whatever it was he’d been looking for either.

And Hector didn’t even care, even as he was using that family connection that Miguel had wanted so badly to try and manipulate him now.

“Decepcionante.^[63] Then I suppose we’ll have to find another use for Hawk here,” he said with a sigh. For once, Hector’s affable mask was gone, not even a hint of it left in the sharp lines of his expression as he clapped a hand against the back of Eli’s neck and held it there firmly, grip creeping up to the edge of painful without quite tipping over it. “He’d do well in the ring, I’ve seen his fighting skills for mysel-”

“No.”

“No?” Hector’s grip tightened, now it actually was painful.

But Eli barely even registered it, too fixated on the distressing emotions flickering rapidly across Miguel’s face.

There was that rage again, and Eli was beginning to hate how it looked on Miguel, it stole all the warmth and softness from him, leaving someone he didn’t recognise and didn’t want to see more of. More than the rage though, there was pain, grief, fear; his friend was hurting so much and he couldn’t even reach out and try to comfort him.

“No. He’s not fighting for you,” Miguel growled, stepping forwards and grabbing his father’s wrist, tightening his hold until Hector released his grip on Eli’s neck.

He stumbled slightly the second he was free in his attempt to get some distance from the man, though he couldn’t bring himself to drift too far away, not while Miguel was still there. It was obvious how the gang members in the back room were taking a sudden interest as several of them had stood up the second Miguel made a threatening move towards Hector, though they hadn’t come any closer, held off by Hector waving his free hand at them.

And Miguel’s attention was so fixed on his father that he didn’t even seem to have noticed. “I’m never going to fight him, not for you.”

“That’s a pity.” Hector didn’t attempt to escape Miguel’s grasp, though his other hand slowly drifted inside his jacket. “Because I can only see two uses for him, mijo, if you aren’t happy with either of those… well, he’s seen a bit too much. It’s your choice where he ends up.”

Miguel’s hand was still wrapped around his father’s wrist, but where before the grip had been tight and steady, now it was shaking – in fear or rage, Eli couldn’t tell. Miguel’s eyes were fixed on where Hector was reaching inside his jacket and, when he followed his gaze, Eli had to clench his jaw to supress the sharp breath that tried to escape him when he spotted the flash of metal under Hector’s fingers.

Oh. So that was what his game was.

Hawk was just a means to an end, as he always had been. He was a tool that Hector could use to control his son, a threat that he actually cared about, at least more than he seemed to care about any threats to himself. And he had just walked right into it, he’d basically given Hector the perfect leash to wrap around Miguel’s neck to keep him in line.

He’d fucked up. Badly.

Glancing back to Miguel, Eli found him already staring back at him, the black depths of his eyes turbulent with emotion, but one shone through above all the others.

Resolve.

He’d already made up his mind, consequences be damned, all because Eli hadn’t thought about when might happen by getting himself so involved in a situation he knew barely anything about. And it was going to be a huge mistake. “Miguel, you don’t have t-”

His plea was cut off. “Entiendo. Haré lo que dices.”^[64]

Miguel released his grip slowly, backing up a step, lightly knocking Hawk back. He wondered if the way he was standing directly between Eli and his father – shielding him – was intentional.

“Por supuesto que lo harás.”^[65] Hector’s insincere smile widened and he casually readjusted his jacket to cover his gun once more, like he hadn’t been threatening to shoot someone just seconds earlier. Patting his son’s shoulder, he glanced in Eli’s direction and gave him a sharp nod. “Mohicano, my son’s safety is now your responsibility, make sure his temper doesn’t get him in trouble.”

“Yes sir,” Hawk ground out, not caring that his tone wasn’t even approaching respectful. The man had made it quite clear where they stood, he didn’t see the point in pretending their relationship was anything but openly hostile, not when he was indirectly using Hawk’s life to threaten Miguel into obedience.

And it wasn’t like Hector seemed bothered by the lack of deference. His hand lingered a moment longer on Miguel’s arm, shaking him lightly. “Good, now go home, get some rest, you’re fighting tomorrow night and I want you ready to win.”

“Got it.” Miguel nodded, already turning away and pulling Hawk behind him.

The air was cool as they stepped outside, the drizzle having almost stopped, though Eli could feel the barely-there droplets settling on his exposed skin. Miguel let go of him so he wasn’t being dragged along, but he wasn’t slowing his pace at all – despite his slight limp – leaving Eli jogging to catch up. He wanted to reach out and stop him, but, even as he walked just a couple feet behind him, that broad back felt like it was a million miles away.

They walked under a heavy, stifling silence the entire way to Miguel’s apartment. Hawk was practically vibrating with the need to break it, so many things he needed to say trapped inside him like ants crawling under his skin.

And, if it weren’t for the presence of someone discreetly tailing them, he probably would have.

The man wasn’t being obvious about it, but he also made no attempt to hide himself whenever Hawk glanced back over his shoulder. He vaguely recognised him as one of the members of Hector’s gang who’d been playing cards back at the bar, so the only real question was if he was following them because Hector didn’t trust them and expected one or both of them to make a break for it, or if it was simply an intimidation tactic to keep them both on edge.

Either way, it kept him sufficiently distracted that he almost walked into Miguel’s back when he stopped outside a small, run-down building. At some point there had been a grocery store on the ground level, however the windows had long been boarded up and there was a peeling ‘to let’ sign stuck on the door.

Miguel went to a side door and pulled out his keys, holding the door open to let Hawk through first, glaring across the street to where their tail was still hovering before following him inside.

Trudging up the stairs, Hawk allowed Miguel to roughly push past him, leading him into his apartment and flicking on the lights. After locking the door, Miguel immediately turned on him. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

Eli sighed, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of everything that had happened since he first found Miguel again crashing onto his shoulders. He hadn’t been thinking about anything except getting closer to his friend again, by any means necessary, and he certainly hadn’t had a plan for what would happen next once he finally got to that point.

“Isn’t this a good thing? It means I’m always gonna be nearby to look after you. Besides, Hector seems to like me.” The words didn’t sound even remotely convincing, he knew that much even without watching Miguel’s face twist in frustration.

“Hawk, he’s turned you into a hostage! As long as you’re near me he’s always got someone he can threaten, that’s the only reason he’s given you ‘bodyguard’ duty.”

Of course he’d figured that much out already, he knew he had messed things up for Miguel, and he did feel guilty for that. But at the same time, he could feel his own frustration building, as it had been for weeks. If Miguel had just sat down with him and explained everything right from the start instead of constantly running away they probably wouldn’t be in this mess now. If he had just trusted that Eli only wanted to help him maybe they could have worked something out together.

But how was he supposed to say that? Frustrating as it was, Eli knew that Miguel had just been trying to protect him, even if he was too much of a dumbass to not see that that street went both ways.

He’d never been good with words, or controlling his emotional outbursts, so instead of replying, he just stood there, clenching his jaw tightly and wishing he could just beam his thoughts directly into Miguel’s mind so he didn’t have to actually explain himself.

Miguel growled at his lack of response, before stalking over to the window, twitching the curtain just enough to peek outside. “Tail’s gone, but you should still be careful-” he turned back to Hawk, giving him a hard, desperate look “-this is your last chance to get out of here.”

One last out, a chance to escape back to comfortable, safe, familiar LA, forget everything that had happened here. Forget Miguel.

Fuck that.

He stood his ground, staring Miguel down and crossing his arms tightly. “I’m already here, already mixed up in things, whether you like it or not.”

“There’s still time for you to get out though, you don’t have to stay!”

“Yes I do,” he said, voice hardening as he stepped forward, fighting back the hurt when Miguel instinctively stepped back in response. He was still trying to run, even now. “As long as you’re here, I can’t leave.”

Miguel grimaced in pain as he took another step back, catching himself as his injured knee wobbled dangerously. “That’s not fair, don’t use me as an excuse for putting yourself in danger-”

“I’m not using you as an excuse, Miguel,” Eli said, slowly edging closer, one hand raised ready to help stabilise his friend if it was needed – though judging by the hard glare he was pointing at the hand reaching out to him, Miguel wasn’t going to accept it anytime soon – “you’re my friend and I want to help you, is that really so hard to believe?”

Miguel smacked his hand away, retreating again until he couldn’t go any further because the wall was at his back. He was shaking a little, but his stance and voice remained tense and threatening. “I don’t need your protection; I was doing fine by myself until you turned up.”

He almost wanted to laugh at that. If he couldn’t see the way his old friend’s shoulders were raising and his feet were widening into an unconscious fighting stance, then he might’ve.

Taking as steady a breath as he could manage – which wasn’t very – he stepped forward again, keeping just enough distance between them that he would hopefully have enough time to react if Miguel felt like giving him another cracked rib, before speaking again, slow and careful and shaking with withheld anger, “I know you don’t believe that and you know that your dad was going to pull a move like this eventually, whether I was here or not.”

Admittedly he’d almost certainly sped things up a little, but he refused to believe that Hector hadn’t been planning something like this for a while now.

“Look, you’re tough, I’m not denying that, you’ve survived this long by yourself, but you don’t have to be alone in this anymore, I can be your backup, just let me help.”

There was something in Miguel’s expression, a weight to his eyes, like several years’ worth of exhaustion had been laid on him at once, then it was gone again, covered by aggression.

But Eli had seen it. For that brief second, Miguel’s resolve had wavered.

“Why the fuck won’t you just go home? I’ve made it as clear as I can that I don’t want you here, that you’re putting yourself in danger, just leave me here and get back to your life already!”

“What life?” Suddenly, all that frustration that’d been smouldering beneath the surface for weeks now was ignited, fire exploding through his veins and it had to be released.

All those pent-up feelings that he’d been shoving down for years, because they didn’t matter because Miguel wasn’t there anymore, so he had nowhere to direct that anger, that hurt…

But he had a target now and – despite the rational part of his brain clawing at his lips, begging them to stay closed, hold the feelings in, hide the hurt – he couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“What the fuck would you even know about what my life has been like since you left? You weren’t there!” He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Miguel, even when he flinched and dropped his gaze at Eli’s raised voice and, while he felt guilty for it, he couldn’t make himself stop either. “You were- I- do you even realise what you’ve put everyone through? We all spent years thinking you were dead; your mom and grandma have buried everything but a body!”

With how Miguel’s expression dropped, Hawk suspected a punch to the face would’ve hurt him less, but fuck it.

If he was going to keep trying to push him away, then Eli was going to make sure he knew exactly what he’d been putting everyone through.

“No one has been the same since you left, this whole trip was supposed to be closure for us, I never imagined that I might actually find you here, but when I did…” He had to pause, take a few rattling breaths, force himself to look Miguel in the eyes despite the hurt he found there taking a hammer to his heart.

“Hawk-”

“I was so happy, just seeing you again, knowing you were alive, but now instead of talking to me and letting me help you because I still care about you, you’re trying to run away like a fucking coward.” He could hear how rough the pain was making his voice sound, could feel it ripping at his throat, but his raw emotions were already too much for him to handle, there was no way he’d be able to control his physical responses as well.

Miguel couldn’t even meet his gaze when he stammered out, “It’s for your safety-”

“No, it’s for your peace of mind! So you don’t have to feel like a piece of shit for abandoning your friends and family without a word, cutting us all off for years, not even giving us a sign that you were still alive, you- you were my whole fucking world Miguel, why did you just leave without saying anything?”

Eli’s breathing was laboured and uneven, he could feel his eyes burning with tears that refused to fall and his body was trembling uncontrollably.

He ran shaking hands along the side of his head, looking for something to grab hold of, but only finding close-cut hairs too short to grip. They ended up sliding further back, yanking at the spikes at the back of his head, the sharp pain was enough to bring back a little lucidity, rein back his anger a little, just enough for some softer feelings to shine through.

“I would have come with you.”

Miguel winced, keeping his eyes closed and refusing to look at him. But his voice was a delicate, tiny thing. “I… I know.”

“I would’ve dropped everything, the fight, the championship. I would’ve followed you anywhere.”

“I know.”

“You broke my heart.”

Miguel didn’t say anything. His face said it all though.

He knew.

Hawk pressed forward once more, waiting for Miguel to push him back, waiting for any sign that this wasn’t welcome, that he was going to run away again. He was close enough now that he could feel the warmth radiating off Miguel’s skin, the tiny, gasping breaths brushing against his neck, the tickle of loose curls just barely brushing against his forehead as Miguel shuddered.

Fists clenching at his sides, Hawk held himself back, even though every part of him was screaming at him to strike first, strike hard, give Miguel a reason to stay this time.

But he was still afraid.

Miguel had left him once before and he’d been doing everything in his power to push him away for the last four weeks. Hawk wasn’t enough for him; he’d never been enough. If he had been, Miguel never would have left in the first place.

Why did he think things would be any different now?

He stood trembling before Miguel, wanting nothing more than to reach out and show him what he’d left behind, but trapped in place by the terror of rejection. Because if there was one person in the world Hawk couldn’t cope with losing, it was him.

But… if things stayed as they were, he was going to end up losing him anyway.

The memory of his last conversation with Robby and Tory came back to him, their words spinning in his already chaotic mind.

What do you really want right now? What’s stopping you?

You don’t get over feelings by ignoring them, tackle them head-on. Make your fear your bitch.

There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you want and chasing after it with everything you have.

It’s not easy, but since when have our lives ever been easy?

Miguel’s eyes were wide and darting around wildly, but the second Eli’s hand laid carefully against his cheek they snapped to his face, fixing him with a stare that almost made him feel uncomfortable in its intensity. But he didn’t attempt to pull back, or push him away. If anything, he leaned in.

Before he could second-guess himself, come up with a million reasons this was a terrible idea, Hawk slid his hand to wrap behind Miguel’s neck and pulled, gently but insistently, closer, closer, close-

The first brief kiss filled his body with static, the second, firmer, more demanding, turned it to fire in his veins. Eli whined low in his throat, surging forwards even though it wasn’t like Miguel had anywhere to go, his back already pressed against the wall as it was. And Miguel was responding just as much, bringing trembling hands up to clutch at each side of Eli’s jaw.

He responded by digging his fingers through the mess of curls atop Miguel’s head – like he’d imagined doing so many times when they were younger – marvelling at the soft texture. The fingers of his other hand gently wrapped around Miguel’s wrist, steadying his shaking hand against Eli’s jaw, and rubbing his thumb against the thudding pulse under warm skin that was no doubt only matched by the rapid beating Eli could feel throughout his own body.

He only pulled back when his lungs demanded it, though he refused to back away entirely, keeping their bodies close, resting his forehead against Miguel’s as he panted heavily, eyes closed as he tried to focus on regaining control of all his senses.

“Hawk-”

Another kiss kept Miguel from speaking, because he was terrified of what might’ve followed. Miguel didn’t resist, he kissed back with just as much hunger, but when Hawk retreated for a second to catch his breath, pressing their cheeks together, he felt something that instantly snapped him back to reality.

His head jerked back enough to get a real look at Miguel’s face, seeing the tear-tracks just barely visible in the low light.

Face twisted in pain, Miguel let out a sob but didn’t break his gaze with Eli, dark eyes pulling him in and holding him in place even though he wanted nothing more than to hide away from the distress he found there. “Why are you doing this to me? I was trying to keep you safe. I- I can’t want this.”

Eli’s grip against Miguel’s wrist tightened a little, pressing his hand more firmly against his cheek and leaning into the warm touch. He let his other hand drop from Miguel’s hair to carefully brush his thumb under his eye, wiping the tears away.

He let out a trembling breath. “Miguel, even if I went home, knowing that you’re here where I can’t help you… that would kill me.”

“I’m not leaving.”

It was a challenge. Eli accepted it, strengthening his gaze and leaning forwards to whisper against Miguel’s lips, “Then neither am I.”

“We’re going to have to see each other be hurt.”

“Then we’ll be there to take care of each other’s wounds.”

“You could die. I could die.”

“Neither of us will let that happen.”

Miguel placed a hand to his chest and gently pushed him back, just enough to look him in the eye. From the way he winced, his words almost seemed to cause him physical pain as he said them, “You need to go home eventually.”

That gave him pause, but only for a moment. “…No, I don’t.”

It took less than a second for Miguel’s eyes to harden, his brows furrowing deeply. “I’m not going to let you throw away your entire life for me, I’m not worth that.”

“I can make that choice for myself,” he said, hoping desperately that Miguel could see in his expression how serious he was about this. About him. “And I’m choosing you, every time, no matter what. It’s always been you.”

He looked like he was about to start crying again. “You’re going to resent me for taking you away from everything back home.”

“I already resent you for taking you away from me for five years!” A growl ripped from his throat before he could stop it and he could feel Miguel’s flinch where their bodies were still pressed together.

Cutting it off abruptly, he pulled his body back an inch, close enough to still feel the warmth radiating off of him without directly touching, and moved both hands to gently cup his face, only a light pressure to let Miguel feel his touch without holding him captive.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he let his voice drop into something softer, more honest, when he spoke again, “And you’re trying to do the same thing again now.”

Finally, Miguel completely broke down, not bothering to try and hold back his tears anymore. He collapsed into Eli, arms wrapping tightly around him and pressing his head into his shoulder, Eli didn’t waste any time returning the embrace, feeling his own eyes starting to sting himself.

“Everything about this is so fucked up,” Miguel mumbled, voice muffled by Eli’s shoulder, “But… I’m not gonna fight it anymore. Dios, estoy tan harto de pelear.”^[66]

“Then stop fighting for once and let me help you.”

He felt the nod against his shoulder and suddenly weeks’ worth of stress felt just a little lighter. Miguel wasn’t going to push back against him anymore, they were in this together now – whatever this was – and even though there were so many unknowns and dangers he’d barely even given a single thought to, he could at least relax knowing that Miguel was going to accept his support through it.

There was a wobbly sigh from Miguel as he pulled away, wiping his tears away with the sleeve of his shirt. “I don’t know how we’re gonna do this,” he said, voice cracking a little.

“Me either, but that can wait-” he slowly reached out to brush a lock of curls out of Miguel’s eyes, half terrified even now that he might be rejected, but Miguel merely looked at him with those warm brown eyes and leaned into his hand “-you look exhausted, I’m about ready to pass out. We can come up with a plan in the morning.”

He had no idea how they were going to get through this, but they were going to. For now though, he let himself be dragged into Miguel’s bedroom without complaint and tried to push every lingering worry to the back of his mind. He was asleep within seconds of collapsing onto the mattress.

---

The tune of his alarm was faint, but he’d long ago become accustomed to listening out for it. Honestly he probably didn’t even need it anymore – he was usually awake before it went off – but he sighed and quickly shut it up anyway. Even as quiet as it was, Miguel was already stirring, one eye squinting open with extreme reluctance.

Eli desperately wanted to kiss him, but last night had been… a lot.

They’d finally vented the pent-up feelings they’d both been wrangling with for the last few weeks. Last few years, really. And they’d come to some kind of deeper understanding which had been badly needed, but what they hadn’t done was actually talk, about what that meant for them going forward.

Were they boyfriends now? Was this just some trauma-response thing that Miguel was going to regret the second he was more clear-headed?

They had ended up cuddled together in Miguel’s slightly too-small bed, only managing to kick off their shoes before falling onto the mattress fully-dressed because they’d both been exhausted and neither had thought to question what the most appropriate sleeping arrangements would be. Not that Eli was complaining, it was extremely nice to be waking up to Miguel’s face, even if it was frowning at being woken in the middle of the night.

Miguel mumbled something incoherent into the pillow, burying his face in it. A tiny smile pulled at Eli’s lips as he softly apologised and told him to go back to sleep, carefully slipping out of the bed so as not to disturb him too much more.

No use thinking about that stuff now, it could wait until morning proper, instead of this witching hour that seemed to belong only to him.

He used the dim light of his phone to navigate the tiny apartment; there were three doors in the place, one being the front door and one being the bedroom he’d just left, so he didn’t have any difficulty finding the bathroom. Once he’d finished and was washing his hands, he glanced into the mirror, groaning a little when he saw what a mess his hair had turned into thanks to his fight with Hector’s thugs and an awkward sleeping position. Not seeing any point in leaving it in this state, he did as much as he could in the sink to remove the excess product from it, worried that turning the shower on might wake Miguel up again.

Cleaned up as much as he was likely to manage in less-than-ideal circumstances, he found a towel and dried his hair roughly, flicking the bathroom light off as he left, longing stare lingering on the bedroom door for a moment before he headed to the couch instead. It was way too small to be comfortable, but he could live with that. Better to get a crick in the neck than risk making Miguel uncomfortable if he had regrets in the morning.

Settling himself down for the rest of the night, he briefly unblocked Demetri’s number.

He desperately wanted someone to talk to about all this right now, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t risk the others getting involved until he knew what Miguel wanted to do. Otherwise they would no doubt come in guns blazing, ready to knock their old friend out and throw his unconscious body onto a plane back to LA if that was what it took.

Sighing, he sent a quick text confirming he was still alive, just like he had every night for the last two weeks, before blocking the number again, rolling over and letting the exhaustion take him.

---

Chapter Text

---

When he woke up, it was to the sun shining directly into his face. Eli grunted, turning away from the annoying light, but the damage had been done and he was already awake now.

And apparently he wasn’t the only one. There was a quiet humming nearby and a warm, toasty smell to the air that was bringing the fact that he hadn’t eaten in – he checked his phone with sleep-crusted eyes – about fifteen hours to the forefront of his attention. He sat up, wincing as every inch of his back and neck protested the movement and leaned against the back of the couch, looking over to where Miguel was sitting on the countertop in his kitchen.

He must’ve made more noise than he’d realised, because Miguel quickly glanced over to him, his soft, melodic humming coming to an abrupt halt. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” he said, stretching out his stiff muscles before untangling himself from the blanket that definitely hadn’t been there when he’d fallen asleep and wandering over. His hand automatically reached out to brush against Miguel’s arm before he thought better of it and tried to disguise the motion with an exaggerated stretch. “What is it?”

Miguel gave him a questioning look, but didn’t call out his odd behaviour, instead jumping off the counter to finish preparing their breakfast. “Molletes. You’re lucky I had stuff to make anything, haven’t bought groceries in like a week.”

“You really didn’t have to go to the effort, right now I could eat a bag of flour and be happy.”

Snorting, Miguel shoved a plate into his hands, several slices of toasted bread topped with refried beans, beautifully golden melted cheese and a scattering of pico de gallo arranged haphazardly on it. “Well unfortunately I am fresh out of bags of flour, so you’ll just have to settle for this.”

He chuckled in response and didn’t bother waiting for Miguel to finish plating his own meal, already digging in with the fervour of a starving man.

“Fuck this is good, never knew you could cook man, you’ve been holding out on us.”

“It’s just bread with stuff on top,” Miguel said, taking his own plate over to the tiny dining table and sitting heavily in one of the two chairs, taking a bite for himself, “and trust me I wasn’t, only learned how to fry an egg without burning it since I started living down here, I was a total disaster in the kitchen before.”

Eli joined him at the table, mainly focused on eating as quickly as possible without accidentally choking himself, though he snuck glances at his company every now and then, trying to judge his mood. He still looked pretty tired and there was a definite weight to his eyes that historically meant he was having issues with Sensei Lawrence. Since Johnny wasn’t around to be causing it, that probably meant that it was actually Hawk himself who’d managed to put that expression there.

His suspicions were confirmed the second they’d both swallowed their last bite.

“So, we need to talk.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Damn, haven’t even officially gotten together and you’re already hitting me with a ‘we need to talk’ am I that bad a kisser?” He tried to play off his sudden terror with humour, but Miguel had always been pretty observant. If his unimpressed look was anything to go by, he immediately saw through Hawk’s façade.

“You spent how long trying to get me to actually open up to you about my problems and now that I have something I want to discuss you’re getting all evasive about it?”

He winced. Ok, yeah, that was a little hypocritical of him. “Sorry, I just-”

“No, I’m sorry,” Miguel said with a long sigh, slumping in his chair and running a hand under tired eyes. “All that stuff you said last night, you were right. I have just been running away for the last five years and part of why I’ve been so hostile towards you was because you being here means I can’t keep pretending that I didn’t actually hurt anyone back home.”

What could he say to that? As much as he wanted to comfort his friend, tell him that it was all fine and that it didn’t matter… it did.

Miguel leaving had hurt so many people so badly and – while he didn’t want him to start wallowing in pity over it – Eli didn’t want him to ignore all that either.

“Though the other part of it really was just trying to protect you, I’m not going to fight you on it anymore but just so we’re clear, I’m not happy about you being so involved with everything going on with my dad-” that was fair enough, not like Eli was happy with how involved Miguel was in his dad’s business either “-but I knew after that first meeting that you were never going to let this go, that’s not who you are. It’s a large part of what I like about you,” he said, with a soft smile that made Eli’s insides twist into knots.

“You like me, huh?” He’d been going for teasing, but he was pretty sure that his voice ended up coming out more choked up than anything else and he could already feel his cheeks heating.

Miguel raised a brow. “Would’ve thought that was pretty obvious after last night.”

“Yeah but I figured that was just emotions running high and me being the closest outlet.” It was so weird hearing this from his old crush, only in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined hearing Miguel openly admit that he liked him as more than a friend. “How long have you known about… y’know?”

“About being into you? Or being bi?” When Eli shrugged and replied both, he continued, “Realised I was into guys as much as girls a looong time ago, before I even moved to Reseda.”

That long? Admittedly Hawk wasn’t the most perceptive guy in the world, but he’d never even suspected that Miguel might be anything but straight. Certainly not with how much time he’d spent simping after Sam. “You never mentioned it.”

“Well yeah, I’d accepted it for myself, but actually telling anyone else was just… too much at the time.”

He nodded; that much he could understand. It wasn’t like he’d confessed to anyone else about his own sexuality either, partly because he hadn’t wanted to hand over any more ammo to the people he knew would use it against him, but also because he just didn’t know how to naturally start that conversation with those he actually wanted to open up about this side of himself to. The topic didn’t really come up that often and he didn’t know how to just put it out there that he liked guys as well.

And it wasn’t like he would’ve been able to tell Miguel anyway, because if he had it would’ve been impossible to hide how deep his feelings for his friend ran.

He would have rather taken that particular secret to his grave than risk ruining their friendship.

Miguel coughed, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable and… was he blushing? “Though if I hadn’t left home I probably would’ve confessed to you eventually, I started having some, uh, not very platonic thoughts about you while we were in Cobra Kai together, but back then I was either already in a relationship or hung up on a failed relationship, so it didn’t feel right to pursue anything. Didn’t stop me noticing you though, for the longest time I assumed you just wouldn’t be interested in me, even if I did tell you about my crush.”

“You though I wouldn’t be interested in you?” Did he seriously not see how insanely out of his league he was? “Miguel, you do realise that you’re settling, right?” He’d always been way too good for him, even when they were younger.

Though his confused frown suggested he didn’t feel the same way. “Why would you say that?”

“Look at me, then go find a mirror.”

“I am looking at you,” Miguel said and his gaze was so intense that Eli could feel his skin crawling under it, as if every insecurity he’d ever had was completely exposed to him, but for once he didn’t hate the vulnerability he was feeling, “and I don’t see your point.”

Eli’s mouth dropped open several times, but he couldn’t find anything to say that would adequately express any of the disorienting mix of joy and embarrassment and affection twisting at his insides.

He wasn’t inexperienced, he’d had several girlfriends and – even if he wasn’t exactly a natural romantic – he considered himself at least passably smooth when he was interested in someone. Yet in the face of Miguel’s plain, honest declarations he was turning into a blushing mess who couldn’t string two words together coherently. Maybe it was because he’d been crushing on him since before he’d ever become Hawk that he was reverting to the shy, unconfident kid he’d spent so long trying to repress.

A gentle touch made him jump a little. He blinked and glanced down at where Miguel had laid his hand next to Eli’s on the table, loosely wrapping their pinkies together. He stared, mildly fascinated by the way such a tiny gesture was throwing him so off-balance, but manged to curl his own finger in response, looking up to see Miguel smiling at him again.

Ohh, this was going to ruin him.

“What about you?” Miguel asked, leaning closer, though he was careful to keep their hands touching. “How long have you…”

He didn’t even need to think about his reply. “Back in school, after the Halloween dance, do you remember when we were in the library and Kyler was messing with me, you told him to back off?”

Miguel’s eyebrows scrunched up in thought. “Barely, that feels like a million years ago.”

“I know right?” It really did. He wondered how differently things might’ve gone for them if they could go back to that time knowing what they knew now.

There were certainly a lot of regrets he’d give anything to go back and erase before they’d happened, chances he might’ve taken sooner, knowing what he did now, but, then again, with all the crazy that had been going on around them at that time he had no doubt that something would’ve happened to fuck it all up anyway.

“But, yeah, you were the first person who actually got into a bully’s face and told them to fuck off, even if they didn’t really listen at the time… you stood up for me. No one had done that before, not in that kind of way at least.”

His mom had tried, but her methods only ever made things worse, and Demetri was always there to bitch about the bullies, but only once they were safely out of earshot. Miguel had been the only one to directly stand up for him, even back when he wasn’t the karate badass who knew Kyler wasn’t worth shit, even when it drew dangerous attention to himself. Miguel hadn’t been afraid and Eli was sure that his friend would’ve taken a beating on his behalf if it’d come to that.

“It took me a few months to fully realise that it was an actual crush and not just hero-worship,” he said, staring at where their hands were touching, trying to memorise the feeling of his warm, rough, callused skin, “but yeah, there was no going back after that.”

Part of him felt a little pathetic for admitting it, but another, much larger, part of himself was relieved to finally get it off his chest.

Miguel took a minute to digest that information, finger idly squeezing against his before he let out a long sigh. “So, where does that leave us now?”

He hesitated.

As much as he wanted to leap to the obvious conclusion and declare Miguel his boyfriend, there were outside factors they couldn’t ignore that would put a strain on any relationship they might develop together. Sighing himself, Eli decided to be a little bold and moved his hand so it fully laid over Miguel’s. “Look, I think we both know what I want. But you’re in a tough place right now though so if that’s… if I’m not what you need, then I get-”

Miguel cut him off, quickly leaning across the table to press their lips together. It was just a simple peck really, but even so that warmth that Miguel just seemed to exude from every pore started to slowly spread throughout Eli’s body. He almost chased after Miguel when he started to pull back, though it was only enough that they could properly look at each other.

“I really do want to be your boyfriend.”

Hearing the word directly from his mouth made Eli’s insides twist in hopeful terror.

And not knowing how else to express it, he leaned forwards – emboldened by how receptive Miguel had been to his advances so far – however his confidence fled not even an inch away from Miguel’s lips, when he felt a hitched breath whisper against his skin. Blushing furiously, he hovered there, unable to close that distance between them, but also unwilling to back away, still not quite believing that this was something he could even want, let alone have.

Chuckling softly, Miguel took that leap for him, pushing forward that last half-inch.

And like a dam had burst, Hawk suddenly couldn’t hold himself back any longer, one hand sliding behind Miguel’s neck, fingers tangling in the fine curls at his nape, the other hand tightening against his arm for purchase. It was awkward as hell, both of them leaning across the table and it was still pretty chaste, nothing like the desperate clinging of last night, but it was exactly what he needed.

They stayed like that until joints and muscles started complaining, reluctantly pulling away and dropping back into their seats. Eli couldn’t stop himself from reaching back out to grab Miguel’s hand again, rubbing his thumb against his palm slowly.

“So,” Miguel said, squeezing his hand back briefly, “boyfriends?”

But there was still an uncertain note to his voice, a weight to his eyes that didn’t match his otherwise hopeful and contented expression.

“You’re sure that’s what you want?” he asked, dreading the answer but knowing he couldn’t leave the question unasked. He cared for Miguel too much to lock him into a relationship like this if it was going to make things more difficult for him in the long run.

“I’m sure. If I seem reluctant, I promise it’s only because of everything going on with my dad,” Miguel said, dropping his head into his free hand, staring at the table.

“I guess we’re not telling him about any of this?”

Eli could immediately feel how Miguel tensed up at that. “No. Fuck no, absolutely not.” He was worried that perhaps he had just scared Miguel off again, but instead of backing away, Miguel just tangled their fingers together tightly, as if he was terrified to let go. “He can’t find out; it’ll only give him more leverage over me.”

He blinked at him, but returned the tight hold. “Ok, so we’ll just have to be careful around him.”

“Not just around him, around everyone. My dad knows a lot of people and I don’t trust anyone not to tell him if they find out.” He’d never heard Miguel sounding so paranoid before, what the fuck had Hector done to drive him to this point?

Ignoring the slight tingling in his fingers that signalled his blood flow was getting cut off by Miguel’s trembling grip, Eli leaned closer to rest his other hand on his arm. “Is there anyone here you do trust?”

Taking a few steadying breaths, Miguel shrugged. “Maria and Luis, Tadeo… and now you.”

Even only recognising one of those names, he had to bite down the urge to groan. “Miguel,” he said, trying to catch his eye, “that’s not enough people.”

His boyfriend sank down into his chair like he was trying to disappear. Clearly he knew that, because there was a defensive edge to his voice when he said, “Basically everyone I know down here I met through Dad, there’s not many people willing or stupid enough to go against him.”

Sighing, he gently squeezed Miguel’s arm, offering what little reassurance he could. It wasn’t his fault, there was no point getting frustrated when the cause of most of their problems wasn’t even around to direct that anger at.

“So, what’re we gonna do about it?” he asked softly.

Miguel gave him a long, blank look, all the exhaustion he was feeling clear on his face. He extracted himself from Eli’s grip, grabbing the empty plates from the table and heading back to the kitchenette. “Survive. That’s all I’ve been doing since I got here.”

“But, now that he wants you doing more in the gang-”

“¡No sé!”^[67] The dishes clattered as he dropped them into the sink a little more harshly than necessary. He leaned against the counter heavily, like it was the only thing keeping him upright and let his head drop. “I’ve been doing everything I could to not get pulled in any deeper and I thought he was content with that; it wasn’t like he wanted to risk his prize fighter getting injured outside of the ring anyway.”

Hawk bit his lip and slowly stepped up to Miguel’s side, though he didn’t reach out to touch him, despite desperately wanting to. Not when he wasn’t sure if Miguel would want it right now.

Though, now that they were on the topic…

“So, what else is he involved with, other than the fight club? Drug trade?”

Hands clenching a little against the counter, Miguel shook his head. “Only a little, too much competition. Dad’s a small fish in a big pond, he’s stayed in the game this long because he keeps close to Mexico City and doesn’t go out of his way to push himself into more lucrative deals, mostly he just dabbles in extortion and gambling.”

Even if he was downplaying it, clearly it was still dangerous enough to make Miguel worry about getting involved.

“He’d mentioned me becoming his ‘heir’ before-” Miguel practically spat the word, a definite growl entering his voice “-but I didn’t realise he was this serious about it, if he’s suddenly determined to get me more involved in the family business then he probably has plans for something big.”

Eli watched as Miguel turned on the tap and started distractedly washing the dishes piled in the sink. There weren’t many, just the plates and cutlery he’d used to make breakfast.

He wordlessly grabbed the towel draped on the counter and started drying plates as soon as Miguel dropped them onto the draining board. It felt pretty disorienting to be doing something so banal while discussing someone’s criminal dealings, but at the same time it was a welcome distraction, the repetitive motions and light concentration required enough to ground him. That was probably the reason Miguel had even started doing it in the first place – not that he looked any less agitated.

“Something big like what?”

“Don’t know, if I was going to guess at what he’s planning… he might be looking to link with a larger operation, maybe branch out into trafficking? He has brought in a couple of former coyotes recently,” he said, trailing off as he seemed to be genuinely considering what his father might have up his sleeves, “and he does already have some contacts who’d be useful in that field.”

He pulled the cleaned knife out of Miguel’s limp hand before he dropped it. “What kind of contacts?”

Miguel shrugged. “Several paid-off cops and politicians who’ll look the other way if he asks, and a woman who forges identity documents. I’ve had to go to her a few times myself,” he said, and the confusion must’ve been obvious on Eli’s face, because he raised an eyebrow and continued, “you do realise that I’m here illegally, right?”

“Honestly, no, I hadn’t even thought about it.” In his defence, there were bigger concerns he’d needed answered first.

Sighing, Miguel shook the excess water off a bowl and placed it on the draining board. “Well I am, so all my documentation is faked and all under Salazar, not Diaz. Worst part is I don’t even have any of the real stuff I originally brought with me anymore.”

“Your passport got lost?”

“And my licence… and my old phone…” Stopping in the middle of cleaning a fork, Miguel glanced at him, biting his lip as if debating with himself if he wanted to say more, but he quickly ended that internal battle. “I, uh, I think my dad might’ve taken them, they all disappeared within a few weeks of him finding out I was actually his son.”

Taking a sharp inhale, Eli held his breath for ten seconds.

So Hector had basically trapped Miguel here, taking away any legal options he had to get out of the country by himself and the easiest means he had of communicating with people back home.

Hawk felt the cheap metal of the utensil he was drying bend slightly under the strength of his grip and – as stress-relieving as it might be to just destroy something right now – forced himself to relax and carefully set it down on the counter. He was still a little frustrated that Miguel hadn’t tried to reach out to anyone, even if he’d lost phone numbers he still would’ve been able to access everyone’s socials on another device, but if Hector was that controlling then it made sense how that might’ve been difficult for him.

He leaned heavily against the counter, fighting to keep the rough edge out of his voice. “Is that why you never came back? Because he was stopping you?”

Miguel shot him a sharp look, before turning his attention back to the sink, hunting in the soapy water for the next dish to wash with a deep frown etched into his face. “It’s part of it, but if it was only my safety on the line I might’ve risked it anyway.” He swiped through the water a few times, but came up empty-handed, run out of his temporary distraction. Sighing, he drained the sink. “I had other reasons to stay.”

“What else could possibly be more important than getting yourself out of here?” Hawk asked, already knowing he was sounding more upset than he wanted to, but the thought that something here mattered more to Miguel than everything back home still hurt him.

Pulling the towel away from Eli, Miguel dried his hands giving him a guarded look that didn’t feel right on his face.

“Miguel, c’mon, what happened to talking to each other?”

The cautious look dropped away immediately, replaced by a soft smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “What if I showed you?”

“Huh?”

Miguel took a deep breath, carefully folding the towel and placing it back on the counter, before facing Eli fully. “What if I showed you what was keeping me here? I was planning to meet them today anyway,” he said, trailing fingers down Eli’s arm until they could wrap loosely around his hand, squeezing lightly.

Eli unconsciously returned the gesture. “Uh, sure, sounds good.”

Nodding, Miguel glanced up a little, a more genuine grin stretching across his face when he said, “You wanna shower first? Dunno if I want to walk around with you looking like that.”

“Huevón.”^[68] Hawk laughed, self-consciously running his free hand through his wildly dishevelled, slightly crusty hair – with how much product was required to keep the hawk upright his attempts to clean it in the dead of night in the bathroom sink hadn’t done much more than kind of flatten it down – before smacking Miguel lightly on the chest. “But sure. You got gel and hairspray around?”

“I don’t need that shit to look good-” no, he certainly didn’t “-but I need to pick up some groceries anyway, I can probably grab you something while I’m there.”

And before he could tell him not to go out of his way like that, Miguel was pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and grabbing a jacket as he headed for the door, calling back that Hawk could borrow some of his clothes before the door clicked shut behind him.

It was maybe a little stupid, but he couldn’t help the wobbly smile that worked its way onto his face as he pressed his fingers to the place he could still feel the lingering warmth of Miguel’s lips.

---

This was a nice part of town; nicer than anywhere else he’d been with Miguel so far. The houses here were big, well-maintained, clearly designed to show their owner’s wealth without being ostentatious about it and the streets were pretty empty. It was actually very similar to the neighbourhood he’d grown up in, in one of the slightly less affluent parts of Encino – not quite like the sprawling estates that Sam and Moon had grown up in, but a far cry from the grungy Reseda apartment block Miguel had once called home – and the familiarity was putting him at ease in a way he wasn’t used to here.

He shifted a little on the low wall, trying to find a position where the bricks didn’t dig quite as painfully into his backside, while beside him Miguel idly pulled his good leg up to his chest and stared absentmindedly at the building across the street.

Following his gaze, Eli decided to broach the topic that had been on his mind since they’d sat down here ten minutes ago.

“So. We’re sitting outside a school.”

“Yeah, should be out any second now.”

“Miguel-” there really was no delicate way to put it, so he didn’t bother trying “-did you knock someone up?”

“Dude, no, c’mon what do you take me for?” Miguel asked, shoving his shoulder lightly in a playful gesture that Hawk had really been missing from him. It felt like all their contact lately had been either actively hostile, or intensely emotional. He was glad to have a little of that casual touch back. “Also this is a high school, I know I’ve been down here a while but it’s not been that long.”

He snickered and shoved his boyfriend back. “Ok, so who’re we waiting for?”

Miguel opened his mouth to speak, but he was distracted by movement at the school gates as a group of young boys and girls filed out onto the street.

“Luis!” Already on his feet, Miguel jogged over to the kids. Several of them looked over at the shout, one lit up more than the others, though he quickly attempted to cover his excitement with a more annoyed frown when Miguel stopped next to him and immediately started ruffling his hair.

The kids gathered around Miguel for a minute, seeming pretty amped to see him, but eventually he manged to extract himself along with the kid who he’d apparently wanted Hawk to meet. He looked to be somewhere around twelve – though that was a guess on Eli’s part, he’d never been great at judging people’s ages – and was wearing a mud-spattered soccer uniform. They’d likely just had practice since it was the summer holidays and kids wouldn’t otherwise be in school this time of year.

“-tomar un baño de barro o algo así? Maria te va a matar.”^[69] Miguel’s words drifted over as he got closer.

Hawk jumped off the wall he’d been sitting on as they approached, raising a brow as he glanced between the two. “Who’s the kid?”

Grinning widely, Miguel once again ruffled the poor boy’s hair, ignoring the protests he received as he looked at Hawk and said, “This is Luis, he’s basically the little brother I never had.”

“Hector’s not my dad,” the kid grumbled, grabbing at Miguel’s wrist and trying and failing to shove it away.

Miguel rolled his eyes, bringing his other arm around to catch the boy in a loose headlock. “And Maria’s not my mom, don’t need the same parents for you to be mi hermanito~”^[70]

Hawk felt his stomach drop. He didn’t know. Of course he didn’t know, he’d left before anyone had found out. This would probably be a bad time to mention that he actually did have a little half-brother he’d never even met back home, but he knew the topic was going to have to be broached eventually. He especially wasn’t going to admit to him that since Carmen and Johnny had gotten married recently, technically Robby was also his brother now.

He suspected that news would not go down well.

The kid finally managed to escape Miguel’s pestering hands, self-consciously brushing his hair back into place. “You’re so annoying.”

“I remember when you used to follow me around begging me to play with you, whatever happened to that cute kid?” Miguel asked, still grinning as he made another swipe to mess his hair up again, though this time the kid was expecting it and dodged out of the way.

“No I didn’t!”

“Pretty sure your mamá has video evidence proving that you did.”

Luis growled, finally getting himself back in order before turning to glare up at Hawk. “¿Quién es este de todos modos? ¿Por qué trajiste a un pandillero aquí?”^[71] he mumbled quietly, eyeing him with undisguised suspicion.

Hawk snorted; the kid was smarter than he looked, even if he did make some bold assumptions. “No soy un pandillero, chico.”^[72] Ok, only half-true, but he wasn’t about to try and explain the complexities of his situation to a child. He didn’t even know if the kid was aware of Miguel’s situation anyway, so it was probably best to keep things quiet until he could ask his boyfriend what was safe to talk about.

The boy had enough decency to look a little embarrassed at being caught, though he didn’t drop his distrustful glower.

“Luis, this is Hawk, he’s-”

“One of your old friends from before you came here, right?” There was a flash of… something in Luis’ eyes as he looked up to Miguel for confirmation.

So he had spoken about his old life to at least one person here; Eli had begun to suspect that Miguel had just kept everything about it secret.

“Yeah, surprised you remembered, it’s been a long time since I mentioned any of them to you.” There was that strange sad half-smile again. Eli wanted nothing more than to reach out and offer what little comfort he could, but Miguel’s words from that morning halted him. They had to keep their relationship secret. “He’s on holiday here, ran into him a few weeks ba…”

Both Hawk and Luis stared at him as he trailed off mid-word, his face went completely blank for several seconds before it fell in something that looked suspiciously like dread.

“Oh shit.”

Hawk blinked and raised an eyebrow at the unprompted exclamation.

Miguel’s expression was now turning to mild panic as he turned to face him more directly. “You said you were here with the others, right? You’ve been out all night, they’re gonna be freaking out by now.”

He winced a little. Oh yeah. That.

“Uh, they weren’t exactly expecting me back last night,” Hawk admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck. He really should’ve expected this topic to come up at some point.

“Hawk?”

Sighing, he dropped his hands, instead shoving them into the pockets of the red hoodie he’d borrowed from Miguel’s wardrobe that morning. It was a little weird how baggy it was on him when there had once been a time when they were almost the same size. “I’ve actually been staying somewhere else for a while now, it was getting difficult to come up with excuses for why I kept disappearing on my own instead of hanging with them, so I packed up and found a hostel to stay at instead.”

Miguel frowned, his mouth moving silently like he was repeating Hawk’s words back to himself; it was an old habit he’d had for as long as Eli had known him and it usually meant he was trying to figure something out. “Do they not know about me?”

“You asked me not to tell anyone.” Or, implied it at least. Not that Hawk had been rushing to get the others involved either.

“Well you ignored all the other things I wanted you not to do, kinda figured you’d ignore that too.” That was a little harsh, but also fair.

Shrugging, Hawk turned away from Miguel, gaze briefly landing on Luis, who was pretending to be too busy retying his shoelaces to pay attention to the grownups, while clearly listening in on their conversation. His boyfriend must’ve followed his gaze because he nudged the kid with his foot and muttered to him to stay put, before grabbing Hawk’s arm and dragging him far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop, though Miguel kept an eye on the kid as he carried on, “So the others have no idea what’s going on?”

He felt the old guilt rising back up from the depths where he’d tried to bury it again, but quickly pushed it back down. “Nah, they know something’s up, obviously, but they probably just think I’ve gotten involved in drugs or a gang or some shit.”

“You realise that you have gotten involved in a gang, right?” Miguel said, disbelieving expression plastered across his face. “When was the last time you even spoke to them, they’re gonna be worried as fuck about you.”

Hawk gave him a pointed look. Of all people, Miguel had absolutely no room to be getting on anyone’s case about worrying their friends by disappearing without a word.

And, if the grimace his boyfriend gave in response was anything to go by, he knew that too.

Sighing, Eli rubbed his thumb across the still-healing scabs from where his knuckles had split in the fight with Hector’s goons last night, letting the mild pain distract him from the uncomfortable mix of emotions bubbling inside of him. “Look, I message Demetri every day to let them know I’m ok. I know they’re annoyed at me for not giving them any explanation, but I haven’t completely ghosted them.”

He wasn’t trying to deliberately guilt-trip his boyfriend, but it was also because of Miguel that he knew how awful it felt to be abandoned without a word, it was the only reason he was even bothering to keep any contact with the others at all.

And it was clear how bad Miguel felt about it, even as he said, “They’re going to be looking for you.”

“I’ve been careful, none of them know that you’re even still alive-” it was an unnecessary comment and he regretted it even before he saw the guilt-ridden look Miguel gave him, he offered a sympathetic wince before carrying on “-and I was careful when I left, they don’t have any clues to work off to find me and they don’t even know they should be looking for you.”

Smothering his face in his hands, Miguel let out a long groan. “God, I really am a piece of shit, aren’t I?” he asked, though he didn’t wait for an answer, pushing his hands up into his hair to tangle his fingers there. “It’s just that it’s gonna be hard enough to trying to protect you, let alone everyone else and I-”

Miguel cut himself off to glance down at the ball gently bouncing off his ankle.

They both turned to see Luis still standing where they’d left him, giving them his best glare and pointing at an imaginary watch on his wrist.

Chuckling softly, Miguel muttered something that sounded like ‘little brat’ under his breath, before turning back to Hawk. “Right, this isn’t why I brought you along today, can we talk about this later?”

He nodded, happy to take any excuse not to delve deeper into a topic that was only going to make both of them feel worse than they already did. Miguel nodded back, nudging their shoulders together and letting the touch linger maybe a few seconds longer than was strictly necessary, making Eli grin in return and nudge him back.

Staring hard at the soccer ball still lying next to his foot, Miguel shifted his weight awkwardly, lifting his leg very slightly and leaving it hovering uncertainly just off the ground. Hawk looked at the brace peeking out from under his boyfriend’s shorts and decided to take the decision out of his hands, snapping his own foot out to hook the ball and kicking it back in Luis’ direction. He snickered when the kid yelled in annoyance as it went sailing past him, leaving him jogging to chase after it.

“Thanks,” Miguel mumbled to him as they started walking, watching as Luis finally caught the ball and turned back to throw a rude gesture at Hawk before kicking the ball along at a more reasonable pace.

“Is it feeling any better?” he asked, glancing back at Miguel’s knee, but not directly addressing it.

Miguel already knew what he was asking about anyway. “Yeah, though honestly it was never that bad in the first place and it’s been healing well.”

His nose crinkled a little as he swallowed down the comment that a fractured knee should never be described as ‘not that bad’ because he already knew that his concerns would be brushed off. Miguel had always been like that, pretending he was fine even when he clearly wasn’t because he didn’t want people worrying about him, even though he would be the first to nag at someone else for not looking after themselves.

But Eli had to admit, he wasn’t limping as badly as he had been the last few times he’d seen him and the stiffness to his gait probably had more to do with the brace itself restricting his movement, so he’d let the hypocrisy go. For now at least.

Finally they caught up to Luis, who had gotten bored of kicking his ball along and picked it up instead. He glared up at the two of them as they approached. “You two done?”

“Oh I’m sorry, were you bored?” Miguel asked, elbowing the kid lightly.

Dodging the attack, Luis turned around and started walking backwards, frowning up at his… brother. “I just wanna get home and eat already. Guess you’re inviting yourself to lunch again.”

“Maria’s given me an open invitation; I can drop by whenever I feel like it-” idly grabbing Luis’ shirt, Miguel dragged the kid out of the path of the couple attempting to walk past him and turned him around to walk properly “-besides, I already called ahead and asked her if it’s ok today since I’m bringing Hawk with me.”

The disdain the kid felt for Hawk wasn’t even slightly hidden, but he didn’t say anything to that, just glared at him briefly before dropping his head and picking at a scuffed patch on his soccer ball. “So, is he the reason you’ve been acting so weird lately?”

“First Tadeo, now you, why is everyone saying that to me lately?” Miguel asked, very pointedly not looking in Hawk’s direction.

He was willing to bet Miguel already knew he’d been acting off and just didn’t want to admit it.

“Because you’ve been acting really weird.”

Miguel rolled his eyes, but apparently didn’t feel like delving any further into the topic because the next thing he said was, “So how was practice anyways, judging from your uniform you must’ve been tackled, what, a good ten times at least?”

Huffing, Luis peeled a thin strip off the plastic outer layer of the ball, the destruction a natural outlet for his fidgeting fingers. “I didn’t get tackled that much.”

“Oh, so you voluntarily rolled around in the mud?”

“No, it was just-” cutting himself off, the kid glared down at the ground, cheeks turning a little red. “Roman estaba siendo un pendejo.”^[73]

Miguel groaned loudly. “Jesus, please tell me you’re not getting into fights again.”

“He started it,” Luis mumbled, avoiding Miguel’s stare in favour of picking at every imperfection on the ball’s surface, “and maybe if you’d teach me like you used to…”

Stopping dead in the middle of the sidewalk, a familiar expression etched itself into Miguel’s face, the same one he’d had last night when trying to convince Hawk to forget about him and leave. There was anger there, but – now that it was being directed at someone else and he wasn’t feeling so personally threatened by it – Eli thought that he could see just as much fear, perhaps even more.

Luis carried on walking for a few steps before he noticed that no one was following him. He stopped and turned around, daring a brief glance at Miguel before immediately dropping his gaze again.

With a slow, carefully controlled breath, Miguel stepped forwards again, the anger melting away as he reached out to pat the kid’s shoulder. “You don’t need to know that shit, trust me, you’re better off without it,” he said gently.

“I’m just saying it could help-”

“Luis,” Miguel snapped, voice sharp and tension creeping into his stance again, before he took another breath and manged to find that softness once more, “you wanna end up like me? Twenty-two and never even finished school because I got too into fighting?” It was a good thing these streets were so much quieter than the rest of the city, this wasn’t a conversation that should be happening around other people. “You’re so much smarter than I ever was, don’t waste it.”

Hawk almost let out the words fighting to rush past his lips; that Miguel had been a straight-A student before he’d run away, easily on track to get into the college of his choosing – money concerns aside – if he had stayed. It was all true of course, but he already knew the regrets Miguel had about it, no point rubbing salt in the wound.

It looked like the kid was gearing up for another argument, but something in Miguel’s expression must’ve convinced him it wouldn’t be worth it, because he quickly shut his mouth again and just pouted down at the floor.

Squeezing his shoulder one last time, Miguel dropped his hand and started moving again. “C’mon, your mamá’s waiting on us, let’s get back.”

The rest of the walk was much calmer, they were almost at Luis’ home anyway, they only had to deal with two minutes of awkward silence before they came to a beautiful garden, which led to an equally beautiful house.

Stopping outside the door, Miguel turned to the kid and gave him a serious look. “Ok, I’ll distract her, you go get washed up quick as you can.”

Luis nodded, waiting until the front door was open and Miguel had stepped into the room – loudly announcing his arrival, pulling the short woman who came to greet him into a tight hug and spinning her around so she wasn’t facing the doorway – before charging up the stairs like this was an old routine they’d gone through many times before. Eli hesitantly stepped inside and shut the door behind him, watching the interaction before him.

“Maria, ¿cómo estás?”^[74] Miguel asked, voice warm and genuine as he let the woman go.

She smiled and gave him a tight squeeze before stepping away. “Estoy bien gracias,”^[75] she said, her eyes trailing up the stairs where her son had disappeared and was making far more banging and clattering noises than necessary, she raised an eyebrow and her smile shifted into a smirk. “Espero que Luis no te haya vuelto a causar problemas.”^[76]

Miguel probably knew that they hadn’t managed to fool her for a second, but he shrugged and gave her a grin of his own. “Por supuesto que no, recién se está vistiendo y estará abajo.”^[77]

Glancing around the house while they talked, Eli’s gaze quickly landed on the collection of framed photos sitting on a table in the landing, most were of a kid – presumably Luis – at various stages of life. A baby being tightly embraced by his mother, a class photo, one with a younger version of him sitting on Miguel’s shoulders. There was another familiar face there too, Hector’s, him kissing Maria’s cheek, him playing soccer with Luis, one picture showed all four of them huddled together like a real family.

And one photo of Hector with his arm around a younger Miguel, a Miguel who must have only recently arrived in Mexico when it was taken because Eli immediately felt his heart clench at seeing his friend as he had been forced to remember him for so long, trapped at seventeen. Except, unlike the distant, stressed expression that had been seemingly locked onto his face the last few times Eli had seen him before and during the All-Valley, Miguel in this photo was grinning widely, looking lighter and happier than he had since… probably since before the school fight.

He’d been reaching out to pick that one up when his name being called snapped his attention back to the other people in the room.

“Este es Hawk,”^[78] Miguel said, grabbing his hand and tugging him over to stand in front of the woman, before saying under his breath, “Maria doesn’t speak much English.”

“Ningún problema,”^[79] he whispered back, before facing Maria fully and giving her what was probably an awkward smile. “Encantado de conocerte.”^[80]

She smiled back – much more naturally – and told him it was nice to meet him too, before making her way back into the kitchen. Without needing to be asked Miguel washed his hands and took his place at a chopping board, grabbing the tomatillos sitting next to it and making quick work of dicing them up, idly chatting with Maria about how her day had been while whipping up what was probably some kind of salsa verde.

Eli mostly hung back, just listening to the two, chipping in only when directly addressed. It wasn’t long before Luis came thumping back down the stairs and into the kitchen like a hurricane, grumbling and groaning when his mother immediately told him to lay the table.

“Yo puedo ayudar con eso,”^[81] Hawk said, taking a little pity on the kid and grabbing a stack of plates from the cupboard Luis directed him to.

He’d just set them down on the rustic wooden table when he felt the prickle of eyes on him that always managed to get under his skin. Glancing up, he found Luis glaring at him from across the table as he dumped his own pile of cutlery. Hawk snorted and broke the eye contact, though he could still feel Luis’ gaze boring into him as he started setting out the plates.

“You’re going to take Miguel away, aren’t you?”

He nearly dropped the last plate at that question, blinking a few times and looking back up to Luis, who hadn’t moved an inch. “What?

The kid finally dropped his own gaze, though his brows were still deeply furrowed as he glared into the table instead, digging his short nails into the wood like he was trying to carve something into it. “That’s why you came here,” he said, keeping his voice low, even though there was little chance that the others could hear them over Maria’s laughter in response to whatever Miguel had just said, “to take him back to America.”

Eli looked hard at the kid, focused on the poorly-hidden tremble to his voice.

Though Luis had adamantly denied it, Miguel had called him his little brother, and he certainly acted like it. Miguel had told him that he wanted to show Eli what was keeping him here. He was starting to get an idea what that might be.

Sighing, he got back to work, grabbing half of the knives and forks Luis still hadn’t touched and laying them out. “Not gonna lie, I’d like it if he came home with me,” he said, tone casual and light, smirking at the glare Luis shot back up at him – man this kid really didn’t like him at all – before glancing over his shoulder to look at Miguel, who just happened to look up at him at the same time and gave him one of those soft smiles that was going to be the death of him one day, “but right now he doesn’t want to leave, so I’m gonna stay here instead.”

“Why?” Luis asked, dripping suspicion as he glanced back and forth between Hawk and Miguel.

“Same reason he’s staying here for you.”

Blinking rapidly at him, the kid opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut off by Miguel coming over, dropping a pan of what looked like chicken mole in the centre of the table, followed by Maria with a large bowl of rice. With the two chefs carting over side dishes and telling them to dig in, there was no opportunity for Luis to press him on what he’d meant, though he kept giving Eli weird looks throughout the meal.

And, now that she wasn’t being distracted by cooking, Maria took the opportunity to grill Hawk instead, asking him about his life, how he was finding Mexico, what Miguel was like when he was younger – much to Miguel’s despair, though Hawk didn’t feel like he had much to be embarrassed about – and he answered the questions as honestly as he could, except where the answers involved Hector, those he just shrugged off and let Miguel fill in as much as he was comfortable with. It felt like any parent’s interrogation of their child’s new boyfriend.

He wasn’t sure if Miguel had actually told Maria about that, he wasn’t making any efforts to reach out to Hawk like he had that morning, though he wasn’t hiding the lingering looks Eli had caught being thrown his way several times either and this woman was one of the few people he trusted here.

By the time they finished eating, Eli was starting to get one of his usual mild too-much-socialising headaches, so he was grateful when Luis was sent upstairs to get on with some summer homework.

It was obviously just an excuse for the adults in the room to talk though, because Maria’s expression turned more serious and she took a long sip of her wine. Turning to Miguel, she carefully asked, “¿Debería esperar que Hector regrese esta noche?”^[82]

“No,” Miguel said, voice tight and refusing to meet her gaze.

“Vas a ser…”^[83] She trailed off, glancing briefly at Eli, before looking down into her wineglass, fingers going a little white where she was gripping it so tightly.

“Hawk está al tanto de la situación, no necesitas evitarlo.”^[84] Running a hand through his hair, Miguel let out a long, drawn-out sigh, staring up at the ceiling rather than meeting anyone’s gaze when he said, “Y sí, lo estaré.”^[85]

Maria frowned, her grip tightening again before she thought better of it and carefully put her glass down, instead piling the dirty plates around her. “En tu condición-”^[86]

“Puedo manejarlo,”^[87] Miguel said, sounding almost as exhausted as he had last night and not even the slightest bit convincing – to either Hawk or Maria if the exasperated look she gave him was anything to go by – though he quickly began helping her to tidy up. “Luis me estaba pidiendo que le enseñara a pelear otra vez, deberías hablar con él, asegurarte de que todo esté bien en la escuela.”^[88]

He was about to grab the piled-up plates and bowls when Eli intercepted him, taking them out of his hands and walking off towards the sink before he could object. Miguel rolled his eyes, but trailed after him, telling Maria to go talk to Luis while they cleaned up and, for the second time that day they were stood side-by-side, idly washing the dishes together.

“You know you don’t have to do this, you’re a guest.” Miguel didn’t try to stop him from filling the sink with hot water though, just grabbed the nearby dishcloth in preparation.

“I always used to help wash the dishes when I had dinner at your place when we were younger, don’t see why I should stop now,” he said, grabbing a bowl and scrubbing the sponge into it, they carried on without speaking for a while, before the need to address the elephant in the room finally overwhelmed him. “So, this is why you never came home.”

He didn’t say it was because Miguel had found a new family, but the implication was there, hanging in the air between them.

Miguel gave him a hard stare. He was normally so easy to read, even for Eli, but for once his expression was completely inscrutable, like he was wearing a mask of indifference. “Maria and my dad, they’ve been together for, like, eight years now I think?”

An obvious deflection, but Eli played along with it. “Hard to imagine him being in an actual committed relationship.”

“I don’t know about committed, Dad’s convinced that she’s just a gold-digger out to bleed him dry, and he’s… not exactly wrong,” Miguel said, staring at the bowl in his hands as he dried it, “she told me once that the only reason she’s stayed with him is because he can provide the kind of life for her and Luis that she wouldn’t be able to on her own, so she puts up with the other stuff.”

“Does Hector hurt them?”

Miguel dropped the bowl, luckily it was close enough to the counter that it didn’t break, but the loud clatter made both of them jump.

Panting for a long moment before managing to regain control of his breathing, Miguel looked genuinely distressed at Eli’s implication. “No! Not like- nothing like you’re thinking-”

But he’s hurt you. Directly or indirectly. No matter how much Miguel denied it, Eli knew it was true.

“-I know my dad can be a- a ruthless man sometimes, but he’s not a complete monster, he’d never do that to them.”

He wouldn’t do that to them, Hawk noted. Whether he realised it or not, Miguel hadn’t included himself in that wording. “You’re worried about it though,” Eli said quietly, focusing his gaze on the plate in his hands as he washed it.

“He wouldn’t hurt them like that-” still unconvincing, still refusing to turn and face Hawk, still trying to run away from the truth “-but their position isn’t stable, never will be with the kind of life he lives. I can keep the worst of my dad’s life away from them, and I can make sure that Luis stays far away from it too.”

“And what about you?”

Finally Miguel looked at him, if only briefly, with those heavy, tired eyes Eli hated seeing on him. “It’s too late for me,” he said with a sigh, “I’m already stuck in it.”

“You really believe that?” Eli asked, almost not wanting to hear the answer.

“I-”

And he didn’t get to hear the answer anyway, because at that moment Miguel’s phone started ringing.

Frowning down at the screen, his boyfriend answered it and turned away from Hawk, though he didn’t bother trying to lower his voice; there wouldn’t have been any point. “Hola Pa, ¿qué fue?”^[89] There was a pause as he listened to the half of the conversation Hawk wasn’t privy to and when he spoke again, there was a distinctly defensive edge to Miguel’s voice, “Acabo de almorzar con Maria y Luis.”^[90]

Was Hector seriously getting on his case about what he’d been doing? Hawk had already gotten the idea the man was controlling, but seeing more of it was making him suspect that maybe there was a little more to Miguel’s reluctance to leave than just wanting to protect these people who’d become like family to him.

After another pause, Miguel spoke again, in that hard, empty tone of voice that Eli was beginning to notice his father often brought out of him. “Sí. Entiendo, nos vemos pronto.”^[91]

He pulled the phone away from his ear, dropping it on the counter like it was made of lead and he couldn’t physically hold its weight any longer.

Eli didn’t say anything, because it was pretty obvious what Hector had called to discuss, but he didn’t need to, because Miguel filled him in anyway. “Just got the location for tonight, I… we should probably get back and prepare before heading out.”

Fighting back the bile building in his throat, Eli finished cleaning the last of the cutlery and placed it in the drying rack. He had almost managed to forget what would be happening that night.

“I’m coming too?”

Dark eyes settled on him. “You’re my ‘bodyguard,’ remember? Dad’s going to expect you to be around all the time,” Miguel said, shoulders tensing up even as he said it.

Eli let his hands soak in the water a few moments longer, despite the discomfort of the wrinkling skin on his fingertips, before sighing and pulling the plug from the sink. Watching the water drain away, he barely heard himself when he said, “Right.”

It had been easy to forget – well, not so much forget as deliberately push from his mind – over the afternoon that this was a thing they were both going to have to deal with and Eli had absolutely no idea how they were going to deal with it. He could suggest just not turning up, but there was no way Miguel was going to agree to that, not while he still felt a need to stay in his father’s good graces in order to protect Maria and Luis.

He was going to have to fight and Eli was going to have to watch from the sidelines. Neither one of them was going to be happy about it, but until Eli could come up with some plan to get his boyfriend out of this life for good, there wasn’t any other choice.

---

Chapter Text

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“¡Y él es vencido! ¡Molina pasa a la siguiente ronda!”^[92]

There was an uproar from the crowd, cheers and boos in equal measure as the underdog’s victory must’ve made some gamblers very happy while leaving others furious at the upset. Hawk turned away from the fight, glancing back to where Miguel was finishing his warm-ups.

After receiving the call from his father confirming the details for tonight’s event they’d made a brief stop at the hostel Hawk had been staying at to grab his belongings – Miguel hadn’t outright said that he’d be basically moving in with him, but the implication was there – before dropping Hawk’s things off at Miguel’s place and almost immediately heading out again.

Miguel explained on their way over that they weren’t going to the mansion where the last event had been held. Hector had several locations where he held his fights that were rotated regularly, partially as a security measure and partially so he could cater to different audiences. This place was an old warehouse in a rougher part of town, the total opposite of the opulent beauty of the villa; the concrete walls and floors were cold and grim and the entire setup was pretty bare-bones.

There was a cage in the middle of the large, echoing space, some tables set out along one wall that were clearly going to be where any betting took place, a temporary bar stocked with cheap alcohol, and not much else.

Apparently this location was usually attended by a less refined crowd, so the luxuries were dialled back accordingly. Though Miguel had quietly admitted that – if he had to fight at all – he preferred this place to the glitz and glamour. At least the audience here was honest, they were here for violence, they didn’t try to dress it up as anything else.

Once they arrived, Miguel had immediately been dragged off by his father who wanted to speak with him privately. Hawk was pushed off to the backstage area meant for the fighters, finding an empty corner to wait in, growing more and more agitated as the men and women Miguel would be up against that night began arriving and throwing him curious looks.

By the time his friend finally found him he’d been wound up so tight he was ready to punch the next person who even tried glancing at him.

Miguel’s presence calmed him down somewhat as he quickly launched into a basic warm-up routine, but he was still unable to relax, his shoulders aching from how taut he was holding them.

­Unsurprisingly, Miguel also looked tense, but it was a detached kind of tension. The same kind he’d had at their last All-Valley Tournament, when the actual fighting had been the furthest thing from his mind. In any other situation Eli probably would’ve been trying to comfort him in some way, however they weren’t alone here and he couldn’t do anything that might weaken Miguel in the eyes of the other fighters he was going to have to face soon.

He already had enough of a disadvantage going in.

Grabbing his water bottle and taking a few small sips, Miguel sat heavily next to him on one of the benches lining the room, as far away from the rest of his competitors as possible. Hawk watched his strong hands closely as they resecured the brace still wrapped around his right knee.

“You’re going to wear that?” Eli asked quietly, scowling at the thing.

It was a shitty situation for Miguel, whether he wore the brace or not. As much as he claimed it was healing well, he couldn’t move his leg properly and Hawk had caught him wincing a few times while stretching and warming up, so it must still be hurting at least a little. He should keep wearing the brace, it was almost certainly the doctor’s orders, but on the other hand it was going to limit his mobility pretty significantly and it might as well be a giant, flashing, neon sign saying, ‘this is a weak point, hit me here!’

Miguel sighed, taking another drink and carefully testing his leg’s range of motion. “Yeah, I’m not gonna be able to move well with or without it, so I’d rather have the extra stability. Besides, it gives my opponents a target, I know what they’re gonna be gunning for so I can focus my defence there.”

That was a stupid fucking risk to be taking, but he knew it wasn’t one Miguel would take if he felt he had any other option available to him.

At seeing Eli’s troubled expression, Miguel lowered his voice further, enough that Eli had to lean in closer just to hear him when he spoke, “Seriously, I’ve fought in similar condition to this before. I know I’m not getting out unscathed, but I should be able to avoid any injuries more serious than what I’ve already got.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better about this.” His hands ached with the desire to just reach out and grab Miguel, pick him up and drag him out of here. Keep him close. Keep him safe. Keep him far, far away from anything to do with Hector.

The feeling of wary eyes occasionally turned on them from the other side of the room was the only thing holding him back.

“Would anything at this point?” Miguel asked with a snort.

And Eli had to concede that no, nothing was going to make him feel better about this, not as long as Miguel was going to be forced to fight. Sighing, he glared as one of Hector’s goons pushed into the room, pointed at a man who had been shadowboxing in the corner for the last several minutes, then at Miguel. “Ustedes dos son los siguientes, estén listos en diez.”^[93]

Sighing heavily, Miguel pushed himself to his feet and briefly rummaged in his bag until he pulled out two small rolls of bandages before sitting back down. Hawk watched as Miguel started wrapping them around his hands in fluid, easy motions, as if he’d done it a hundred times before.

They hadn’t had much time to discuss what their plans for dealing with this would be.

He’d known that Miguel was going to have to fight again, but it had been easy to push to the back of his mind for most of the day, too busy trying to figure out this new relationship with Miguel and learning more about his life here from Maria and Luis. But now it was impossible to pretend that his friend – his boyfriend – wasn’t shortly going to be fighting in a ring with no rules and no honour, despite an existing injury.

And Eli was going to be expected to watch from the sidelines and do nothing to help.

“What if we fought together?” he asked, unable to shake the desperate edge to his voice. “I mean, you sometimes have two vs one matches anyway, right?”

Miguel let out another sigh and finished wrapping his right hand, fingers flexing a few times to test the hold of his wraps. “The whole point of those kinds of matches is to lower my odds, not raise them, the only gimmick tonight is that I’m going to be fighting every match with a handicap.”

They both glanced down at the brace, Miguel’s fingers danced across one of the straps above his knee before snapping away to begin wrapping his other hand instead.

“And I don’t want you anywhere near the ring, I’m not changing my mind on that-” Miguel quickly cut him off when Hawk opened his mouth to object, giving him a pointed glare “-if you’re going to be involved at all, then this is my one ultimatum. We’ll work out a better plan after tonight, but you are not getting dragged into this any more than you already are.”

He didn’t try to protest again, but he also made sure his face expressed every bit of frustration he was feeling at his help being refused.

Gaze skittering away from him guiltily, Miguel shook his head, before continuing prepping for his fight. He shrugged off the hoodie he’d been wearing, rolling it up and shoving it into his bag, before quickly pulling off the t-shirt he had on underneath.

Eli only glanced briefly at his chest as his eyes instinctually followed the movement – this wasn’t the time to be ogling him and he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to appreciate a half-naked Miguel right now anyway – but even in that split-second his brain managed to register the anomaly enough to drag his gaze back down.

Four small but distinctive circular scars, the dull red of a recently healed burn, dotted in a neat row just below Miguel’s left shoulder.

They definitely hadn’t been there last time he’d seen Miguel shirtless, when he had been patching him up after his last fight.

Eli’s hand was already reaching out before he even realised what he was doing, he only noticed it when Miguel’s fingers snapped around his wrist.

He opened his mouth, ready to ask what had happened, hoping for anything that could lead him away from the only possible explanation for how the fuck Miguel had managed to get wounds like that, all while knowing from the dread in the pit of his stomach that he probably wouldn’t believe any excuse he was given.

Last night, at Hector’s little gang meet, the asshole who seemed to have some beef with Miguel…

“Your son is like a wild dog, Hector, best you should teach him some discipline before he gets himself hurt.”

When the man pulled out a cigarette, Miguel’s reaction had been… visceral.

“I’d be happy to train him some more.”

Forcing his gaze away from the scars before he was actually sick, he sought out Miguel’s eyes, desperate for some reassurance, some excuse, anything but confirmation of what he’d already figured out. All he found was a blank expression that honestly said more than if he had let his actual feelings show.

But, as much as he wanted to confront him about it, his boyfriend’s warning look and subtle nod in the direction of the other fighters was enough to make him force his words back down, along with a good helping of bile.

Clenching his fists until he could feel blunt nails digging into his palm, Hawk sucked in a deep breath, held it to the count of ten and then tried to push out every speck of rage within him with it as he released it in a slow, controlled exhale.

It didn’t help much.

And if anyone ever tried to do anything to leave wounds like that on Miguel again then Hawk wasn’t sure that any amount of self-control was going to be enough. He could be gifted the apparently divine and infinite patience and mercy of Mr Miyagi himself and he still wouldn’t be able to hold himself back.

“We’re talking about this later.” He could feel the sharp edges to his voice as he choked the words out, but managed to keep quiet enough to not draw attention.

Before he could get a response, another person ducked their head into the room and called that the next combatants had five minutes until their match.

Miguel nodded once – whether it was to acknowledge Hawk’s words or the organiser’s wasn’t clear – but didn’t make any move to leave, just hunched over in his seat and looked at Eli out of the corner of his eye, before letting his gaze drop to the concrete floor. “I don’t want you watching,” he whispered.

He almost didn’t hear the words over the clamour of the crowd in the echoing warehouse outside and the thumping electronic beat of the music being blasted over the speakers, but he kept his own response just as quiet. “Too bad. I’m not gonna just sit in here not knowing what’s going on.”

Miguel still refused to look up, fingers idly fidgeting with one of the straps on his brace. “Look I- I don’t like the guy I turn into in these matches, I can’t have you see me like that.”

And, at the painful crack in Miguel’s voice, he understood.

There were parts of himself that he didn’t want Miguel to see either, didn’t want anyone to see, didn’t want to look at himself most days. But… Miguel already knew about that side of him. The anger, the hurt, the violence, he knew it was there, he knew the worst Hawk- Eli had done.

And he’d still forgiven him, chosen to let Eli back into his life despite all that, given him a second chance he really hadn’t deserved.

The least he could do was give Miguel the same.

“I’ve already seen it,” he eventually said, not to be cruel, but to be honest. Eli hoped that Miguel would understand his meaning; that he wasn’t going to turn away from those darker parts of him, wasn’t going to judge what he’d done to survive in this place. “Honestly the hardest thing about this is going to be not leaping into the ring to help you fight.”

There was a cold steel to Miguel’s eyes that knocked the air from Eli’s lungs like a kick to the chest. “Don’t even think about it. Dad would have you killed.”

Eli blinked at the sudden bluntness. Every other time his father’s potential danger had been brought up Miguel had been fairly evasive about stating exactly what might happen. He’d never said outright that Hector had the potential for murder in him, even if Hawk had already figured as much from the man’s own actions.

For him to be so up-front about it here…

“Not convinced he isn’t trying to kill you already,” he muttered, glaring at the fighter who was going to be up against Miguel first as he walked past them – a tall, bulky, older man covered in scars.

“I can handle it,” Miguel said, not even bothering to spare his competitor a glance, eyes remaining fixed on Eli the entire time, “I’m being serious, don’t get involved, even if I get injured. This is my world, I know how to navigate it better than you.”

There was something to the urgency in his voice, even as his expression remained fairly calm, if intense.

He was genuinely scared of what could happen to Hawk here, it was more than just general worry about being in a dangerous situation, his concerns were much more specific. It did nothing to alleviate Eli’s existing worries, if anything it only left him more scared for Miguel in turn, but it also helped drive home that point he’d been ignoring for a while now.

Miguel had been doing this for a long time now and he’d survived thus far.

If Eli was going to be his support, he was going to have to trust his judgment on things like this, no matter how much he wanted to think he knew best.

“Ok,” he eventually said, hoping his expression was actually managing to convey his sincerity, “ok, I swear I’ll control myself, but I still have to watch.”

Because he wanted Miguel to know that even the worst of him wasn’t going to scare him off.

“Sorry, but I’ve already taken the decision out of your hands,” Miguel said, pushing himself to his feet and walking towards the door leading to the cage.

Hawk quickly followed, stepping around him to stop him from leaving, searching his boyfriend’s face for any clue as to what he’d meant by that. Except unlike before, now Miguel couldn’t meet his gaze at all, eyes fixed on a point behind his shoulder and refusing to budge, even when he asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Asesino.”^[94]

The low, slow voice came from directly behind him and Hawk spun in place, already on edge and ready to strike. No one should’ve been able to sneak up on him that close without him noticing, but this woman had. It took a few moments for the familiarity to click for him; she had been at the gang meeting last night, she hadn’t said a word then, but she stood out simply by her physicality alone. For such a short woman, her presence took up a lot of space.

She eyed him up and down, gaze sharp and scrutinising – not unlike how Kreese used to observe prospective students, a similarity which forced Hawk to supress a shudder – before flicking her eyes to Miguel.

“Cruz.” Miguel nodded at her, his carefully blank expression matching hers. “Thanks for doing this.”

“I owed you a favour, this makes us even,” the woman said, her voice containing a shrug, even though her body stayed perfectly still. Then her cool eyes snapped to meet Eli’s. “Hawk. Way I understand it, you’re supposed to be the one looking after him, not the other way around.”

He opened his mouth to ask what the fuck she meant by that, but Miguel beat him to it, lightly shoving past him. “I trust him to protect me a little too well, I don’t think the cage would be enough to stop him,” he said with a brittle chuckle that didn’t sound right coming from Miguel’s mouth, “just keep him away from the ring. You could tell him how things work around here while you’re at it.”

“Asking more favours already? You’re lucky I got a soft spot for you, Asesino.”

“Soft spot, is that what you’re calling it?” Miguel narrowed his eyes at her, before the voice of the announcer outside beginning his pre-fight hype pulled his gaze away. He inhaled slowly, that tension creeping back into his body as he leaned in close to Eli, whispering directly into his ear, “Hawk, stick with Cruz, but don’t trust her.”

Eli grabbed at his arm, fingers barely brushing his warm skin before his boyfriend jerked back harshly. “Miguel-”

“I’ll see you after my last fight. Cruz, if anything happens to him-”

The woman let out a short, sharp bark of laughter, then in a blur of movement so fast Hawk barely had time to swing his arms up in a hasty block, she struck out a fist. He could feel the power of the hit still rattling in his bones where she had made contact, but he didn’t back down from her surprised stare, letting his eyes meet hers head-on, all the fury in him smouldering under his skin, begging to be let out.

He felt Miguel’s firm hand pressing into his shoulder, trying to pull him back, but he refused to break eye contact with her, or to move from his defensive position, not when her scarred fist was still pushing into his forearm as if trying to deepen the bruise that was no doubt already forming.

Finally, the tension was broken when she grinned widely, extracting her fist just as quickly as she’d thrown it. “I think he’ll survive. Don’t flinch tonight, Asesino.”

Miguel didn’t bother giving her a verbal response, only a sharp look, before he was jogging away towards the cage and the cheers of the crowd. Leaving Hawk and Cruz both eyeing each other warily.

He’d been told not to trust her, but Miguel needn’t have bothered, because absolutely everything about the woman was setting him on edge.

Her brief burst of liveliness had quickly been replaced with the same stoicism he’d first seen, her expression blank and her body rigid. It made her incredibly difficult to read, he couldn’t even begin to guess what was going on in her mind. Their little altercation had also caught the attention of the other fighters still in the room who were all openly staring at them both. Hawk didn’t bother glaring at them though, just stayed focused on the woman in front of him trying to ignore the dull ache already blossoming in his forearms.

Growling a little when he heard Miguel’s name being called by the announcer, he made to step around her, disregarding his partner’s wishes to watch him fight anyway. She watched him, but didn’t stop him.

It was suspicious as all hell, but since she wasn’t trying to intercept him, he carried on walking towards the door Miguel had disappeared through.

He immediately tensed when he felt the presence settling into step behind him. Now that he was so on edge it was easier to sense her, but she still moved disturbingly quietly. However, she also wasn’t making any attempts to stop him, even as they both entered the main area, audience already going wild as the fight began.

“You aren’t gonna stop me?” he asked, not looking back at her for even a second, instead keeping his eyes glued to the two figures circling each other in the cage.

“When you get too close.”

Frowning at the vague answer, he continued weaving through the crowd, pushing closer and closer to the cage, ignoring the unnerving presence at his back. Miguel and his first opponent were already well past the point of sizing each other up and were trading blows that in any normal competition would’ve had them both disqualified several times over. But Miguel didn’t seem to be struggling yet, even if he wasn’t moving around as much as he normally would in a fight.

It was obvious that he was going to have to play this more defensively than usual and Eli even caught some Miyagi-Do forms scattered in-between the familiar Eagle Fang style and the new non-karate techniques he’d picked up since coming to Mexico.

When a lucky kick managed to break through Miguel’s guard and land heavily enough against his ribs to make him stumble, Hawk instinctively jolted forwards, already reaching out to shove the nearest spectators out of the way, until a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder and dragged him back.

Cruz leaned forwards until he could feel her breath grazing his ear. “You’re getting too close,” she said, digging her fingers even tighter into his shoulder, like she was trying to break through his flesh with her bare hands.

He growled and swung his opposite arm around to knock her back, but she easily caught his wrist and before he had time to formulate a proper defence he found himself thrown to the floor, face pressing uncomfortably into the rough concrete with Cruz’s knee keeping him held there and his arm twisted behind his back.

For a horrible moment, the only thing he could think about was the similarity between this position and the one he’d put Demetri in before he made the biggest mistake of his life.

And all he could do was hold his breath and wait for the same outcome.

But it never came. After what felt like a full minute the knee was removed from his back and he was hauled effortlessly to his feet, only given a second to balance himself before Cruz – still holding his arm in a tight grip – dragged him away. She barely reacted to his attempts to break out of her grasp, though he kept trying anyway, and ignored the confused looks being thrown at them as she towed him along with her.

She only let go when they had made it to a quieter part of the warehouse, a few members of Hector’s gang lurking nearby but the audience well out of the way.

The second his arm was released, Hawk spun around to punch her. It was easily caught before it reached her face, but she wasn’t as quick to block the high kick he followed up with, only barely dodging the brunt of the attack with a quick backstep. Before he could press the opening she’d left however, she pulled a knife out from under her loose shirt and had the flat of it pressed tightly against his neck.

“Don’t do anything stupid niño,^[95] Miguelito asked me to keep you out of trouble, he’d be upset with me if I had to hurt you.”

Panting heavily, he refused to lean away from the weapon, even though he could feel the edge of it scraping against his skin, but he did drop out of his combat stance. He was riled up, but he wasn’t completely gone; Cruz had already made it clear she wasn’t a fighter to be underestimated, there was no way he was going to win a fight with her when she was armed. At least not unscathed.

“Good.” She carefully drew back her blade and slipped it back into the sheath hidden under her shirt. Then a wide smile split her face. “That aggression will do you well here. Just be careful who you turn it on, not everyone is gonna be so charmed by it as I am.”

He glared at her, still clenching his fists by his sides, before there was a sudden explosion of noise from the audience.

Eli whipped his head around just in time to catch the announcer calling Miguel’s victory, though from this distance he couldn’t see what kind of state either fighter was in. Before he could even think about rushing over to check on Miguel, Cruz had once again tightly grabbed his arm, dragging him in the opposite direction.

“Come, I need to check on some things, you’re going to keep me company.”

Cruz didn’t bother explaining too much of what was going on as she was steering him around, however even just from overhearing the conversations she was having with other gang members he was learning more about the logistics of underground fighting than he’d ever wanted to know.

Hector didn’t bother fixing matches, he didn’t need to. His bookies took a cut of every bet made during these events and, since he was in control of the invites, he could ensure that a good proportion of the attendees were inclined to gamble. Who won didn’t matter in the end, as long as people were betting, it was why the ‘gimmick’ matches even existed; they were an easy way to excite the audience into action.

It made him a modest profit and kept him in good standing with his many friends who could enjoy a night of entertainment without worrying about being conned.

And if some less-than-legal substances and services were being sold on the sidelines then no attention was being drawn to it.

As much as he hated the man, Hawk had to give it to him; he was smart about his business. Hector was practical, patient and didn’t let blind greed overtake his judgement, he would rather keep a low but reliable income than risk everything for the sake of a huge payout.

This apparently wasn’t where he made most of his money anyway, it was more of a hobby for him.

But, in-between ignoring his existence and doing whatever her job was, Cruz was occasionally giving him advice. She explained where the people she had been meeting with fell in the hierarchy of Hector’s gang, who he should try to avoid pissing off, what emergency signals they used to warn of police raids or rival gang attacks.

“Of course, if that any of that shit goes down tonight you’re not gonna need any signal to know about it,” she said, settling her back against a wall and offering Eli a cigarette, shrugging when he refused and lighting up herself.  “All of them are part of one gang or another-” she nodded towards where the audience was cheering at the conclusion of the last fight “-this event is a neutral ground of sorts, but all it would take is one idiotic word to get them all at each other’s throats. So watch what you say. Cleaning up that much blood would be a chore.”

With this new knowledge, Hawk looked around at the audience crowding the cage at the other end of the warehouse.

He hadn’t noticed it before, but there were definitely some groups that had pretty stark dividing lines between them, as if that gap was the only thing keeping a fight from breaking out. But there wasn’t as much tension as he would’ve expected from having a bunch of rival gangs occupying the same space either.

“Sounds like the kind of place some big deals could go down,” he said idly, watching for her reaction.

She nodded slowly, exhaling her drag in a sharp huff. “Could, but don’t. Hector should make more use of this space, but he’s got his own priorities.”

“His priorities don’t match yours?”

Her sharp brown eyes snapped to his face, but she remained frustratingly unreadable. “I’ve told him before he’s got a golden opportunity here, I’m not gonna waste more of my breath on a fool who doesn’t listen.”

Frowning, he glanced around to see if anyone nearby might be overhearing their discussion. The only people anywhere close to eavesdropping range were a young man and woman who seemed plenty occupied with each other already. They were probably about as safe as it could possibly get. “Most people wouldn’t talk about their boss like that.”

“When you get to be my age, you’ll learn to stop giving a fuck what others think,” Cruz said, blunt as a hammer, “Hector has earned my labour, but not my respect and I don’t have much to lose by being honest with him about that.”

He blinked at her. “You say that shit to his face? From what I’ve seen he’s not the type to put up with that kind of thing.”

“You haven’t seen much, niño.” She was looking at him with that hard, appraising gaze again, like she could read his mind and was judging whatever she saw there. “Hector will put up with a little disrespect if you’re good at what you do and follow orders, it’s Saul who gets a stick up his ass about respect.”

Saul, the man who Hawk suspected had left those cigarette burns on Miguel.

He instantly felt his shoulders rising and his entire body tensing and he wished he had an outlet for the fury suddenly burning back to life in him.

The way Cruz was eyeing him suggested she’d noticed his reaction, though she didn’t address it, simply carrying on in her calm voice, “If you’ve only been talking to Asesino you’re not getting a full picture, the boy goes out of his way to not know too much and Hector handles him different than anyone else. Since they’re family.”

She didn’t clarify if that meant that Miguel was treated better or worse, and Hawk wasn’t sure which option he preferred; that Miguel was treated better and still had to go through all the shit he’d been through; or he was treated worse and Hector wasn’t as hard on members of his gang as he was on his own son.

“You said you have a soft spot for him,” he said slowly, making sure his face remained as blank as his voice.

Cruz, halfway through a drag when he’d spoken, took her time before answering, releasing the smoke in a dense cloud. “Of course, any teacher would for their student.”

“You taught him to fight?”

She actually laughed at that, a slightly croaky rumble that only spread the unpleasant smell of smoke further around them, making Eli’s nose wrinkle. “He could fight just fine before I met him, what I taught him was how not to flinch.”

He tensed up. The words were different, but the tone…

Show no weakness.

Show no mercy.

Finish the fight.

The tone she used was terrifyingly familiar. He noticed himself unconsciously straightening his posture, body instinctively reacting to a voice of authority he had promised himself years ago he would never let have power over him again. Fuck, he really hadn’t changed at all, had he? After a few moments he managed to force himself back into his less formal – but still tense – stance, but he could feel Cruz’s eyes on him and knew she’d noticed.

“You understand? Good.” She dropped the butt of her cigarette on the ground and crushed it with the heel of her heavy combat boot before walking away. She didn’t gesture for him to follow, but he did anyway. “Asesino might not like me, but he learned well.”

That nickname was really starting to grate on him. “Why do you call him that?”

She gave him a brief glance over her shoulder, before turning back around. “Just my little joke, don’t take it so serious.”

Of course he’d figured that much already, Miguel was many things and clearly he wasn’t above a little ruthlessness in the right conditions. But he wasn’t a killer. If there was one thing Eli had absolute faith in, it was that. But it did raise a question he’d been trying not to think about ever since he found out exactly what Miguel was involved in here. “Does anyone ever die in these fights?”

“Occasionally-” Cruz shrugged, not bothering to look back at him as she led them towards the makeshift bar “-but we don’t encourage it. The audience will call for blood and violence all night, but death sours the mood, makes people start to worry if they might be considered to be complicit.” Only when they reached their destination did she finally look him in the eye, voice light as she added as an afterthought, “Also, it reduces the number of fighters at our disposal. It’s not easy to find people who are capable, dangerous and desperate.”

“But it has happened.” He glanced back over to the cage, where two fighters were whaling on each other, but neither of them were Miguel so he quickly looked away.

“Three times in the last four years,” she said, briefly interrupting their conversation to ask the bartender in Spanish how things were going, refusing the drink offered to her before turning back to Hawk and carrying on as if she hadn’t stopped, “once due to forfeit.”

He frowned deeply, trying to make sense of that statement in his head and coming up with nothing. “How the fuck does a forfeit result in death?”

“I would have thought you’d know the rules here by now; the match continues until only one is left standing, fighters who try to give up before that point don’t entertain the spectators.”

The pieces clicked together immediately. “They’re made an example of.”

“Sí. Usually just beaten to within an inch of their lives, the one who forfeited and the one who accepted it. That death was a special case.” There was something to her expression that was itching at Hawk’s mind, telling him it was important, though he couldn’t read what the slight twist to her lips and squint of her eyes meant.

He wanted to ask for more details, but before he could do more than open his mouth someone else coming up behind them spoke instead.

“This is an unexpected pairing.”

Hearing Hector’s smooth voice was like having a bucket of ice dunked over his head.

Unlike Hawk, Cruz didn’t flinch at all, just nodded casually towards her boss as he approached. “Your son asked me to keep this one out of trouble, make sure he don’t take bodyguarding duty too serious while he’s in the ring,” she said, her voice low and calm. And apparently she wasn’t interested in letting Hector question the arrangement any further – and the deep furrow to his brow suggested that he wanted to – continuing before he could open his mouth, “Meet with Rueda yet?”

“No, not yet.” Unusually, Hector’s eyes were narrowed suspiciously and he wasn’t acting like the too-friendly, faux-charming man Hawk had seen in almost all their previous interactions. Was he finally dropping the act now that Hawk was aware of his true nature, or was it Cruz’s presence that was drawing this kind of reaction out of him?

Without seeing more, there was no way he’d be able to know for sure, but he did tuck the thought away to come back to later.

“Te quiero presente en esta cita, Cruz,”^[96] Hector said, not even a hint of a question in his voice about whether or not his request would be fulfilled, “mencionó que era fan tuyo en el pasado, estoy seguro de que verte lo pondrías de buen humor.”^[97]

Cruz was about as impressed with Hector’s oily way of speaking as Hawk was, if her blank stare was any indication. “Será mejor que no contar con que esta anciana entre en la jaula.”^[98]

Hector rolled his eyes and reached across the bar to grab a bottle and two glasses. “Eso no será necesario, ya le dije a Miguel que tengo un invitado al que quiero impresionar esta noche; él sabe montar un espectáculo-”^[99] Hawk bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to bleed, the iron tang grounding him enough that he didn’t lash out, though he still had to fight against every one of his instincts telling him to make the man hurt “-pero quiero todas las ventajas que pueda conseguir, así que ven.”^[100]

“And him?” she asked, nodding her head in Hawk’s direction.

Blinking at her, Hector finally glanced at Eli as if he’d forgotten he was even there. “Can’t have you breaking a promise to my son,” he eventually said, genial smile working its way onto his face again as he turned to address Hawk more directly, “I’m going to meet with a potential business partner, you are to follow and not speak a word, understood?”

Well, at least he wasn’t laying on the hollow cheeriness thick enough to smother him anymore. If he had to put up with this man, the least he could do was not pretend to be his friend.

Hector didn’t bother waiting for his response, already spinning on his heel even as Hawk gave a slow nod, he also didn’t check to see if the pair were following when he started walking briskly towards the crowd; utterly confident that they wouldn’t disobey his orders.

“Vamos, niño,”^[101] Cruz said under her breath as she walked past.

Reluctantly, he followed after them, weaving through the crowd until they got close to the cage where two female fighters were making a bloody mess of each other. By the time they caught up to Hector, he was already laughing with an older man, pouring generous glugs of amber liquid into the two glasses he’d commandeered from the bar earlier and they arrived just in time to catch the tail end of his words over the thumping music and cheering mass.

“-disfrutando de las peleas.”^[102] Hector was just finishing pouring the drinks when he noticed the pair approaching and his grin widened as he gestured in Cruz’ direction with the hand still holding the bottle. “Sin embargo, no se comparan con el tipo de espectáculo que este solía ofrecer.”^[103]

She remained blank and unreadable as she settled into place next to her boss, nodding once to the man he had been talking to. “Rueda.”

“Ladrón de Ojos, ha pasado demasiado tiempo,”^[104] he said, reaching out a hand to her.

She looked at it, but made no move to take the hand offered.

Hector slapped the man’s back and easily undercut the building tension by pressing a glass into his outstretched hand instead. “Aunque tenemos algunos luchadores nuevos y prometedores, esperemos que una de ellas esté a la altura de su legado.”^[105]

Their conversation continued and Hawk listened carefully to everything said, though most of their talk was admittedly going way over his head. There were mentions of names and groups that meant absolutely nothing to him and they both had indirect ways of talking about their respective businesses, but he gathered that Rueda was the leader of a gang which had friendly but not especially close ties to Hector’s group.

From how much Hector was talking up his operation and low-key sucking up to the guy, he wanted those bonds to be much deeper than they currently were.

Cruz only spoke when she was directly addressed, mostly by Rueda mentioning her old fighting days. Hawk had to admit he was getting really curious what the fuck she’d done to earn the moniker ‘Eye Thief,’ though with how much the man was gushing over how brutal her matches used to be, perhaps he was better off not knowing.

“¡A continuación, el campeón reinante en su último partido de la noche!”^[106]

Instantly, all of Hawk’s attention was fixed on Miguel where he had just entered the cage, trying to see how he was holding up. The harsh lighting made it difficult, but he was pretty sure he could see some bruises starting to form and it looked like his lip had been split earlier that night, but things could also be a lot worse.

The two fighters were eyeing each other intently, barely-visible twitches showing their anticipation as the announcer finished off his preamble.

Miguel didn’t want him to watch, but Eli knew he had to. Even if it was painful seeing what Miguel turned into here, he refused to bury his head in the sand and pretend like everything was fine, that wouldn’t do either of them any favours. But it didn’t do anything for the guilt he felt, knowing that his partner didn’t want him to see any of this.

He glanced over at Cruz, wondering if she was going to intervene again, but she only shrugged and muttered under her breath, “Just don’t try and jump in the cage.”

Reluctantly nodding, he turned back just in time to see Miguel throw the first punch of the match. His movements were noticeably stiffer than they had been at the beginning of the night; his previous fights had clearly taken a toll on him. But, despite that, his hits were as hard and accurate as ever, enough power behind each to keep his opponent on the defensive as he ducked and blocked each strike sent his way.

It was excruciating holding himself back. He trusted in Miguel’s ability, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch him fight, knowing he wasn’t in the condition for it.

Especially when his opponent snapped his foot out in an unexpected low kick, smacking brutally against Miguel’s injured knee. It instantly buckled under him and the grimace was obvious on his face as Miguel was pressured back against the cage wall by the subsequent flurry of hits.

Hawk felt the hand clamping heavily on his shoulder in warning and growled under his breath, but froze in place, forcing himself to remember where he was and who was around him.

Even if he tried, he’d get a knife in his back long before he actually reached the cage.

And Miguel was already recovering, using the wire mesh at his back to support him as he kicked his opponent back, then rushing forward while he was still stumbling with a straight punch, his fist landing solidly just above his right eye.

The man took a step back from the hit, clearly dazed, though his hands were instinctively brought up to protect his head.

Miguel must’ve seen an opportunity, because instead of going for a kick to his midsection while his guard was up like Hawk would have, he instead snapped a hand out to wrap around his opponent’s wrist, stepping into his right side and – in a move mostly hidden by the shifting of his body – twisted his arm into an unnatural s-shaped bend.

The lock alone looked painful, but Miguel didn’t hold the man there for long before twisting his upper body sharply, the arm still in his grip-

Eli flinched at the scream that managed to briefly cut through the thudding music echoing around the building; it sounded far too close to an old memory that had never quite left him alone.

Beside him, Cruz clicked her tongue, the sound almost swallowed up by Hector’s laughter, cheering on the violence along with Rueda and the rest of the crowd. When he looked back to the cage, Miguel had already returned to a defensive stance, backing off a few steps while his opponent took several harsh breaths through his teeth.

He quickly regained his composure however, right arm dangling loosely at his side, wrist clearly broken, but still raising his other fist and retaking his stance.

Cruz’s earlier statement about what happened to those who forfeited came back to him.

The man wasn’t going to give up. Eli almost admired his resolve, except that he clearly didn’t have a choice in the matter, because Miguel was already lunging forward with a swift left hook, taking advantage of his opponent’s weakened side.

He still managed to dodged the attack with a rapid backstep, then swung his leg around in a wide arc aimed squarely at Miguel’s midsection. He tanked the hit, barely even stumbling and instead of letting his opponent retreat, he grabbed the leg where it had connected with his side and pulled it closer in, leaving his opponent hopping on one foot and off balance. It didn’t take much force to throw him to the ground and Miguel was quick to take advantage of the position, dropping heavily onto his foe’s chest, point of his elbow aimed squarely at his solar plexus.

With the noise of the crowd and blaring music Hawk could only imagine the rough grunt that blow must have pulled from the man, but he knew from experience how much a solar plexus hit hurt, how easily they could knock the breath right out of you.

And, even though that last attack by itself probably would’ve ended any normal match, Miguel didn’t hesitate to rear back for one last finishing blow while his opponent was down.

Eli released his breath slowly.

It was over.

Miguel staggered out of the cage as soon as it was unlocked, ignoring everyone around him as he headed straight for the backstage area and it was only Cruz’s firm hand on his shoulder that stopped Hawk from running after him. He glared at her, but her grip only tightened as she nodded subtly towards where Hector was asking if Rueda had enjoyed the evening.

“Por supuesto, Hector, tú siempre sabes cómo entretener. Tu hijo es un luchador impresionante.”^[107] His phone buzzed in his pocket and the man checked it briefly before downing the last of his drink and turning back to Hector. “Disculpas, ha surgido algo importante, pero espero con ansias nuestra próxima reunión.”^[108]

Goodbyes were exchanged as the gang leader and his underlings headed out, the second he was gone though Hector was heading the opposite direction, following after Miguel. Hawk shrugged Cruz’s hand away and fell into step beside him, fighting every instinct to just rush ahead of him and frowning when he felt the woman’s presence not far behind. By the time they got to Miguel, he was sat on a bench, one of the medics who always seemed to loiter around during these events packing away her things. He’d been mostly patched up, though he was still slumped heavily against the wall.

Hector was already sitting down next to his son, throwing an arm across his shoulders and hugging him into his side. “Lo hiciste muy bien mijo, estoy orgulloso de ti.”^[109]

He didn’t get much of a reaction, Miguel’s gaze just gradually drifted to the floor and even Hector lifting his chin didn’t get it to meet his eyes.

“Esto de nuevo,”^[110] he muttered, releasing a heavy sigh and dropping his hand. “Mohicano, grab Miguel’s belongings and meet us out back.” He didn’t wait for a response, already pulling one of Miguel’s arms over his own shoulder, while Cruz automatically did the same on his other side, lifting him together. Hawk reluctantly watched them leave, before quickly grabbing everything that Miguel had brought with him and rushing after them.

They were already gone by the time he stepped back into the main room, but he made his way outside and skirted the edge of the building until he saw where Cruz was leaning into the back seat of an expensive-looking car. He stopped next to her just in time to watch her awkwardly reaching across a still-unresponsive Miguel to buckle him in, before she leaned back and rolled her shoulders.

Hector’s voice drifted over from the other side of the car, “Gracias, tú y Saúl se encargan de las cosas aquí, me comunicaré contigo más tarde.”^[111]

Cruz nodded once and spun on her heel, not even acknowledging Hawk as she made her way back to the warehouse.

He frowned after her for a second, before he heard light footsteps coming up beside him, Hector glanced at the bag still held in Hawk’s hand. “You have Miguel’s things? Good.” Taking it from his slack grip, Hector threw the bag into the trunk of the car, before making his way to the driver’s side door and looking back at him. “Do you mind helping me get my son home? I can drop you off wherever you are staying after.”

Hawk wasted no time sliding into the seat beside Miguel, glancing at him to make sure he was still ok. Or as ok as he could be. He still wasn’t responding to anything around him and his head was hanging limply, but at least no wounds had reopened. “You don’t need to, I’m staying at Miguel’s anyway, at least for now.”

“Not much room at his place,” Hector said, eyes catching his in the rearview mirror as he started the car, voice slow and suspicious.

Did he already think their relationship was more than just platonic? Did he even know that Miguel was bi at all? Either way, it would be best to try and throw him off that scent as quickly as possible, before he found yet another way to make his son’s life hell.

Shrugging, Hawk glared out of the window, watching the buildings pass by. “I’ve slept on more uncomfortable couches. And you’re the one who wanted me to keep an eye on him”

It took several seconds for Hector to agree that he had indeed requested that, then he fell silent, focusing on the road and letting the awkward silence build. Not that Eli cared, he didn’t want to make small talk with this man, he wanted to get back to Miguel’s and be rid of Hector as soon as possible.

Most of the trip he spent flicking his gaze between the window and Miguel, looking for any sign that he was going to wake up soon.

This wasn’t the first time he’d seen Miguel like this; when Eli had first found out about the fighting ring, he’d been unresponsive when he was helping patch him up, though it didn’t seem to last as long as this was. And clearly Hector was familiar with it, he hadn’t been at all surprised to see his son in this state and even Cruz hadn’t needed any direction to assist Hector in getting Miguel to the car. How often did this happen, for everyone to be so calm in that situation?

He was beginning to recognise the streets only a few blocks away from Miguel’s apartment when the low groan to his side had him snapping his head back around.

Blinking slowly, Miguel’s head tilted up a little, eyes darting around. “Wha-”

“Miguel, hey, look at me-” Eli waited until his dark gaze landed on him and stayed put long enough for recognition to dawn in his expression “-you’re ok, Hector’s driving us back to your place.”

“You awake, mijo?”

Miguel looked over to his father, taking a few seconds to fully get his bearings before nodding. “It happened again?” he asked, groaning heavily and rubbing his hands across his face when he spoke, muffling his words.

Hector grunted, hands tightening on the steering wheel slightly. “We should go to another doctor-”

“They’ll just say the same thing as all the others,” Miguel said, dropping his hands to his sides and leaning as far back into the seat as he could, staring up at the roof of the car, “there’s nothing physical causing it, it’s all psychological.”

“My son is not that weak.”

Miguel’s lips pulled into a tight line, probably withholding his knee-jerk response and he took several slow breaths before actually speaking again. “Whatever. It’s fine, it’s not been happening so much recently. Probably just tired.”

Glancing between the two, Hawk wondered how many times they’d had this conversation before. Miguel didn’t seem interested in having it again and it didn’t take long for Hector to sigh in defeat as he pulled up outside his apartment. “Te he estado presionando demasiado últimamente, te pido disculpas mijo,”^[112] he said softly, before turning in his seat to look at Miguel properly, his smile more sombre than Hawk had ever seen it. “Tómate un tiempo para recuperarte, me aseguraré de que no te molesten por un tiempo.”^[113]

Miguel’s expression relaxed slightly and he nodded before carefully getting out of the car.

Eli slammed the door behind him in his rush to meet him in case he needed any help. He was fully lucid at least, though he still seemed to be in pain when he moved, enough that he didn’t complain when Hawk melded himself against his least-bruised side and supported most of his weight.

He did complain when Hector started opening the driver’s side door though, “Dad, I’m fine, you should get back, they’ll probably need you there.”

“You’re sure you will be alright, mijo?” he asked, still stepping out, though he stopped in front of his son.

“I’m sure.”

Sighing again, Hector reached up to gently ruffle Miguel’s hair. “You’re a good son, Miguel, better than I deserve,” he said, looking both happy and sad and unnervingly genuine, “I hope you know how proud I am of you.”

And Miguel must’ve found him sincere too, because a weak smile manged to work its way onto his face and his voice cracked a little when he said, “Thanks, Pa.”

Hector let his hand linger a few seconds longer before pulling it away, only to drop it onto Miguel’s shoulder instead. “Descansa mucho mañana, hablaremos pronto, ¿vale?”^[114] When he received a nod of acknowledgement, he pulled him into a brief half-hug – somewhat awkwardly with Eli still supporting Miguel’s other side – before stepping back to the car, calling goodbye over his shoulder and reminding Hawk to look after his son as he drove away.

Left standing on the sidewalk, the pair watched him disappear down the road before carefully making their way inside. Eli had a lot he wanted to discuss, but looking at his boyfriend it became clear how exhausted he was, so he simply helped Miguel collapse into his bed and waited until he fell asleep before leaving him to pace restlessly around the living area.

His concerns would have to wait until morning.

---

The sharp wail cut through the hazy fog of sleep he felt like he’d only just fallen into, jolting him upright on the couch with enough speed to make his brain thud heavily against his skull.

Eli groaned as the headache immediately set in, but ignored it in favour of getting his senses back up to speed as quickly as possible. The wailing hadn’t stopped, but now that he was actually awake he recognised it as the distinct sound of an unhappy baby filtering in from somewhere outside, not a cry of pain.

He pushed himself to his feet – grimacing as the dull ache behind his eyes intensified for a second before dying down again – and stumbled to the window, glaring down at the family passing by on the other side of the street. Heart still racing from the rude awakening, Eli checked his phone with bleary eyes and estimated that he’d managed to get about three hours of sleep, considering he hadn’t even laid down until after four and it was just gone half-eight now. But, despite the lack of sleep, now that he was up his mind was already buzzing again and he knew there would be no point trying to get any more rest.

Just like last night, his entire body was fizzing like a live wire, making him vibrate with nervous energy as he unconsciously gravitated to the door separating Miguel’s bedroom from the rest of the apartment.

He probably shouldn’t disturb him, but he had to check, had to know.

Only hesitating for a few seconds, Hawk opened the door and stepped into the room as quietly as he could, finally able to release the breath he’d been holding when he saw the subtle shifting where the sheets were draped over Miguel’s chest.

He hadn’t woken up, but he was breathing steadily. It was enough of a sign of life for Eli to relax a little, though when he crouched down next to the bed he still found his hand carefully reaching out to wrap around his boyfriend’s, fingers seeking out the pulse point in his wrist.

Slow, stable, it was fine.

Miguel was fine.

Sure he looked absolutely beat to shit, but it wasn’t that much worse than he’d looked after the Cobra Kai attack on Sam’s home and he’d recovered from that relatively quickly.

Miguel would be fine.

Reluctantly letting go of his hand, Eli pushed himself to his feet and decided to put his excess energy to good use. He ducked back out into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water to leave on Miguel’s bedside table with the painkillers and first aid kit he’d found in the bathroom last night.

Unable to really do much else to help until Miguel woke up, he decided to tidy up the couch a little, neatly folding the blanket he’d been using and draping it over the back and fluffing up the cushions.

It was now nine in the morning.

Groaning and knowing that he had to keep himself distracted or he would drive himself insane with worry, he started to look for more chores to do. His boyfriend kept his place pretty tidy, though that might be because he didn’t have much to make a mess with. He hadn’t noticed that Miguel didn’t have much in the way of personal belongings the last time he’d been here, too busy with everything else to really take note of it, but now that he had the place basically to himself it was impossible not to see the empty spaces that should have been filled with decorations and clutter and the general detritus of life.

Still, he managed to make a few jobs for himself; finding homes for the dishes that’d been sitting in the drying rack since yesterday morning, reorganising the spices scattered on the side – silently cursing Miguel for buying different brands in mismatching pots that couldn’t be neatly arranged – cleaning down all the countertops and by the time eleven o’clock rolled around the entire kitchen was sparkling and he hadn’t heard any movement from the bedroom.

He turned his attention to the bathroom next, digging out some disinfectant spray from under the sink and going to town on every surface he could find. Then he took a long shower to wash off the harsh, sterilised scent clinging to his skin.

By one in the afternoon, he still hadn’t seen any sign of Miguel and was starting to really worry. By one thirty, the utter silence from the bedroom had eaten away at any resilience he had left and it was only because he at least had enough sense to not want to wake his boyfriend up if he was still sleeping that he hadn’t kicked the door down in his rush to check on him.

Hadn’t been quiet enough though, because Miguel groaned and rolled to face him as he entered the room.

Mentally kicking himself, he immediately moved to Miguel’s side, asking him in as soft a voice as he could manage if he could take some painkillers. With a weak nod, Miguel shuffled to sit up against the headboard, accepting Eli’s help with no fuss for once as he dropped a few capsules into his shaking palm and helped him hold the glass steady to wash them down. They worked together to get him lying comfortably again – or at least as comfortably as he could when a good forty percent of his body was covered with bruises and scrapes – and Eli sat cross-legged next to him on the bed and opened up the first aid kit.

He started by redressing the cuts on Miguel’s face, since they were easiest to reach; cleaning the split lip that had reopened as he was drinking and placing band-aids over the smaller cuts. Moving on, he inspected the rest of his body for any and all injuries, finding a nasty welt on his right shin, what looked distressingly like scratch-marks scraping down his bicep and a significant patch of bruising mottling his left side.

Treating the injuries as thoroughly and gently as he could, Eli was so caught up in his task that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt fingers brushing against his ear.

Miguel’s hand drew back for a second, before reaching out again to lightly tug on a strand of hair that had fallen into Eli’s face. “Your hair’s down,” he said, voice somewhat indistinct as he tried not to move his mouth too much and open his split lip again.

Trying to ignore the heat pooling in his cheeks, Hawk returned to carefully feeling around Miguel’s chest, looking for any sign of a broken rib, wincing apologetically when he hit a sensitive spot that made his boyfriend groan in pain. “No point putting it up, I’m not exactly planning on going anywhere today, not while you’re like this.”

“I like it,” Miguel said, rolling over – ignoring Eli’s order to stay still – in order to make it easier to reach, running his fingers through the bright red strands, “I like the hawk too, this is just- it’s different. It’s nice.”

He wished he could appreciate the attention, but he wasn’t about to let himself be distracted from his task. “Thanks, but I still need you to roll onto your back so I can finish checking you over.”

“Nothing’s broken.” And he sounded confident in that, despite the rough edge to his voice as he rolled back, clutching at his chest and grimacing. “I mean, except for the knee, but that’s nothing new and it feels about the same as it did before.”

“I’m still checking everything anyway.”

Miguel grumbled a little, but let him get back to what he was doing with minimal protesting.

All things considered, it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. His newest crop of injuries was pretty minor, it was more the quantity of them that was worrying, but it was far from the worst Miguel had been through. Packing away the first aid kit once he’d done all he could, Eli looked down into those deep brown eyes and sighed.

“When are you fighting next?” he asked, letting his fingers card through Miguel’s soft curls, basically the only place he could touch him without aggravating something.

“Mmm, dunno.” His boyfriend hummed and leaned into the touch, one of his own hands reaching up to tangle in Hawk’s hair in return. “Couple weeks? Dad was in one of his weird moods at the end of the night, he doesn’t usually like to have me fighting again too soon when he gets like that.”

Hector showing some actual care and guilt towards his son being rare enough for Miguel to note it as ‘weird’ was not as surprising as it should have been. But ok, that would at least give him some time to recover and hopefully by then they might’ve come up with a way to get Miguel out of fighting altogether. Hawk had no idea how he was going to convince anyone to agree to that, but he was absolutely going to be pushing for it as hard as he could, anything to keep him from getting hurt like this again.

Or worse. His eyes trailed down to the four dots burned into Miguel’s shoulder and he felt the rage building up under his skin again, though he managed to keep his touch gentle as he skimmed his fingers just under the scars.

Miguel flinched away, expression going blank as he stopped playing with Hawk’s hair and instead rolled over so his back faced him.

He immediately pulled his hand back into his lap and clenched it tightly. “Sorry, do they hurt?”

“No, it’s the opposite, there’s some nerve damage, so that whole area is pretty numb,” he mumbled, voice completely flat as if what he was saying wasn’t kind of horrifying, “I just don’t really want you touching them.”

“You know we have to talk about it,” Eli said, managing to keep impressively calm as he spoke.

His shoulders were shaking just slightly, but Miguel didn’t turn back to face him, just buried his face further into the pillow, muffling his voice when he eventually spoke again, “Can we not?”

“Miguel, these weren’t here a few weeks ago and they’re obviously not from an accident.” His boyfriend still refused to look at him. Gritting his teeth, Eli asked the question he’d been wanting to ask since he first saw the marks, “Did your dad do this to you?”

“No.”

The response was immediate, direct, and sounded honest. He still didn’t believe it.

“Did he order someone else to do it?”

He was intently watching Miguel’s reaction, so even though the full-body twitch was tiny, he didn’t miss it, nor did he miss the hitch in his breathing. Having to calm his own breathing at having what he’d already suspected confirmed, he took a minute to respond, during which time Miguel stayed absolutely silent.

“That means yes,” Eli eventually spat out, wishing he could talk about Hector without letting his anger bleed into his voice, because he knew it would only stress Miguel more and he was the last person that anger deserved to be directed at. “Why?”

When he was once again denied a response, he finally gave in and reached out, carefully pulling on Miguel’s arm until he rolled back over and he could see his face again – even if he kept his eyes resolutely turned away.

He asked again, “Why?”

“Does it even matter?”

No. It didn’t matter, because there was absolutely no reason in the world that would justify that kind of treatment, but he had to know.

“No, but I still want a straight answer anyway. Why?”

Dark eyes glanced at him for a brief second, before just as quickly squeezing tightly shut. “It was my own fault,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Miguel-” why did he have to be so beat up right now, it was taking everything Eli had not to grab his shoulders and shake some sense into him “-don’t. Don’t you fucking dare try and blame yourself for this, this is all on Hector.”

Still with his eyes shut, Miguel sighed. “I’m not saying it’s right, I’m just saying that I knew Dad’s rules and I broke them anyway. I made a stupid mistake, knowing that this was a possible outcome.”

His pure fury was starting to make his throat close up. “He had you tortured!”

“It wasn’t-” finally Miguel opened his eyes again, already glaring up at him, though it faded once he caught sight of the expression on Hawk’s face, cutting off whatever he’d been planning to say as he tried to find another approach. “It’s how he deals with anyone in his gang, I don’t get special treatment just because I’m his son,” he eventually said, whispered voice not enough to hide how badly it was cracking, “used all that up already.”

“Miguel, what rule did you break?”

After another minute-long silence where it became clear he wasn’t going to get an answer, Eli finally got sick of waiting and instead asked the thing he’d been most fearing, even though he really didn’t want to know the answer. “Was it because of me?”

Miguel didn’t reply immediately, which basically confirmed it, though he did finally open his eyes and turn his heavy gaze on him. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said, soft and tired.

“Not my fault doesn’t mean it had nothing to do with me.”

A rough-skinned hand wormed its way into his, idly tangling their fingers together. “I’m not blaming you for anything.”

He appreciated that his boyfriend was just trying to make him feel better, protect his feelings, but it was starting to get frustrating being denied a real answer. “Miguel, please, just tell me what happened.”

For a long moment, it seemed like he wasn’t going to get his answer, Miguel giving him a pained look before his eyes darted away, staring at the window where the afternoon light was breaking through the drawn curtains, lighting up the thin material with a dull yellow glow. Eli followed his gaze, idly listening to the faint sounds filtering in from outside, so when Miguel finally did speak, he almost didn’t hear the tiny whisper.

“I lied to my dad.” Immediately his eyes snapped back down. Miguel still wasn’t looking at him, but he squeezed Eli’s hand a little tighter, even as he brought his other hand up to tap lightly under each of the scars in turn. “Four times. You get one for each…”

Ignoring the horrifying implication that Hector had an entire punishment system in place for something like that – that Miguel had already been aware of before breaking his rules, Hawk made a mental note to check he didn’t have any more similar scars anywhere else after his current injuries healed – Eli started putting the pieces together.

They hadn’t been there at the mansion, but the wounds were almost fully healed, if still pretty fresh, so they must have been inflicted very shortly after…

No, immediately after. Because the next day at the café when Miguel had gotten mad at Hawk for telling Hector they already knew each other, he’d hinted at a shoulder injury, and said that his dad didn’t like liars. He’d basically already told Eli what’d happened, he’d just pushed it from his mind until now.

“You lied about me,” he said, choking on his own words, “you told Hector you didn’t know who I was.”

Miguel didn’t deny it, but even if he had it wouldn’t have mattered.

It’d been Eli’s fault. If he’d kept his mouth shut, not admitted the truth to Hector, then he wouldn’t have done this, at least not at that time. He’d gone in without thinking, as always, and Miguel had ended up being the one to pay the price for it, as always. “I’m so sorr-”

“Don’t.” For a brief second Miguel’s grip on his hand turned crushing, enough to shock him into silence, though Miguel quickly released him and pulled his hand away.

Eli chased after it, but Miguel was already weakly pushing himself into a seated position with that determined set to his brow that made it clear no arguments about not exacerbating his injuries were going to sway him from his mission. So, instead of scolding him to stop moving and lay back down, Eli just helped him sit up against the headboard and mirrored his position. Once he was settled, Miguel looked at him again, managing a soft smile before heavily leaning into him, head dropping onto his shoulder.

“Like I said, it’s not your fault, I could have been honest with him from the start but I wasn’t. I was… scared of what you being here meant and I didn’t want him to take an interest in you,” he said quietly, seeking out his hand again and lightly wrapping their pinkie fingers together. Then he let out a harsh laugh. “And in the end it didn’t even matter, because he knew the truth the whole time.”

“But if I hadn’t told him-”

“Then he would’ve waited until one of us broke and admitted it, and if it’d gone on longer I would’ve just been lying even more, so it’s probably for the best it happened when it did.”

As logical as his argument was, Hawk couldn’t help despairing at how warped Miguel’s worldview had become that he considered only being tortured a little bit a best-case scenario. He wanted to rage and scream and go find Hector right this second and probably kill him… But Miguel’s weight was gradually sinking into his side more and more and he looked so fucking exhausted and just like that his inferno was extinguished by a sudden, soothing downpour of rain.

Sighing the last of his anger away, Eli let his own head drop to rest gently on top of his boyfriend’s.

“I’m not letting anything like that happen to you again,” he mumbled, twitching slightly at the ticklish sensation against his lips as the movement brushed them against a lock of curly hair, but refusing to pull away despite the prickly feeling.

Miguel hummed a little and snuggled closer, before slowly, carefully pulling back, wincing the entire time. When he spoke again, it was with a serious voice and a hard, unwavering stare. “Hawk, the only reason I told you any of that is so you realise the kind of situation we’re in, lying isn’t the only infraction that has this kind of punishment, or worse.”

He bit his lip, dropping his eyes to avoid Miguel’s intense gaze.

Of course he was well aware that they were both in danger, but he had to admit that until now that danger had been pretty vague in his mind.

Vague enough to avoid thinking too hard about how bad things could potentially get. Even the threat of death that had been implied – and outright stated – several times still hadn’t quite gotten it into his head the way that seeing Miguel hurt was now. Death was an abstract, distant kind of fear. One that he’d never really spent much time dwelling on, but this was close, personal.

“I can be careful,” he said, flicking his gaze back up to meet Miguel’s and hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

Because he could be careful, it might not be where his instincts usually led him, but if it meant keeping them both safe he could fight against them.

“I know.” Miguel smiled, the movement restricted by the scab on his lip, but it was enough to soothe Eli’s worries. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but Dad is going to be looking for reasons to hurt you if I don’t play along with whatever he wants-” he slid his hand more fully into Eli’s, twining their fingers together and rubbing gently along the back of his still-healing knuckles “-that means we both need to be careful and we both need to protect each other.”

Staring down at their joined hands, Eli sighed. “Ok, I get it, but I think I’m allowed to worry about my boyfr-” he was unable to finish saying the word, coughing to cover it and hating how hot his face felt.

Miguel gave him a tiny smile. “Oh, you’re allowed to worry about your boyfriend, but your boyfriend is going to worry about you in return,” he said, leaning back into him and pressing his forehead heavily into Eli’s shoulder.

He really wasn’t going to last long in this relationship if just hearing his boyfriend state that fact so bluntly was going to make his throat close up like this every time.

“And I am worried, all this is dangerous enough, I don’t want you doing something unnecessary to try and protect me,” Miguel said, pressing even harder into him like he was punctuating his point. Or perhaps he was just too tired to stay sitting up without support. “I know this whole situation is completely fucked, but you’ve got to trust that I know how to navigate it.”

“I always trust you; I just have trouble… controlling my emotions. You know.”

The fingers gripping his twitched a little, and when he spoke Miguel’s voice was starting to sound slow and exhausted again. “I know, I’m not trying to get on your case or anything, I’m just-”

“Tired?” Deciding to be a little bold, Eli pulled their joined hands to his lips, lightly kissing the back of Miguel’s hand. He smiled at the surprised noise he made in response before asking, “Want me to leave you alone so you can get some more sleep?”

Groaning, Miguel buried his face harder into Eli’s shoulder for a second before pulling back with a frown. “I’ve slept enough already.”

He didn’t look it, but he also knew from experience that sometimes just laying around only made the pain harder to ignore. “Then do you think you could manage to keep some food down if I make us something to eat?”

A dark brow raised, wrinkling the band-aid stuck just above it. “Is the concern my injuries, or your cooking?”

Eli actually prided himself on being a perfectly sufficient cook – enough that he’d survived college without once giving himself food poisoning, or having to resort to getting takeout every night to avoid eating his own cooking like Mitch had – even if he’d never bothered to learn enough to make anything better than just adequate. But it was nice to see Miguel joking around again. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Laughing, then groaning as he jolted himself and had to clutch at his tender ribs, Miguel somehow still managed to grin at him. “Sounds exciting, let’s go find out.”

---

Chapter Text

---

Despite trying as hard as he could to eavesdrop, Eli was still barely able to hear the low voices, muffled through the bedroom door as they were.

Hector had dropped by about twenty minutes ago, nearly giving Hawk a heart attack when he’d opened the door to his soft smile. It had taken everything in him not to slam it in his face and instead reluctantly let him inside, the man immediately making his way into Miguel’s room where he had been resting up a little. It had been a few days so he was doing a lot better, though he was in that strange phase where his bruises were turning from dark purple to that sickly green that almost looked worse, even though it signalled they were healing.

It hadn’t been stated that Hawk wasn’t invited to join their conversation, but he’d assumed as much when Hector closed the door behind him, so he had to satisfy himself with sitting on the couch, body tensed like a spring, just waiting for any sound of struggle.

But it seemed they really were only talking. What about he hadn’t managed to figure out, he’d caught some general small-talk, Hector had asked how Miguel was feeling – though Hawk hadn’t heard the response – but they’d been in there too long to have only talked about that. Just when he was considering the potential ramifications of just barging in there, the door creaked open and Hector was striding out, followed by a less steady Miguel.

“No tienes que acompañarme, mijo, te dije que descansaras,”^[115] Hector said, though there was a hint of laughter to his voice that made it clear he wasn’t actually reprimanding his son.

Miguel just shrugged. “No puedo quedarme en la cama todo el día.”^[116]

Shaking his head, Hector turned his attention onto Hawk, who had jumped to his feet the second the door opened. “Mohicano, make sure he doesn’t strain himself; I want him to recover properly,” he said, reaching out to playfully ruffle Miguel’s messy hair, earning an eye-roll from his son as he pushed the hand away with a tiny smile.

“I can take care of myself, Pa.”

“Of course, but there is no shame in accepting help when it’s offered-” even though it wasn’t him offering the help and Eli definitely didn’t need the order, he was planning on doing it anyway “-just take this time to think on what I said.”

Immediately the smile dropped off Miguel’s face, leaving his expression completely blank, and when he spoke his voice sounded like it was a thousand miles away, “Right.”

“Te llamaré pronto.”^[117]

“Hasta luego.”^[118]

The door clicked behind Hector as he left, but they both stayed completely still until his faint, fading steps completely disappeared. Miguel’s stiff, upright stance melted away and he limped – more noticeably than he had been when Hector had been around to see – over to the couch and dropped heavily into the firm cushions, eyes closing as his head dropped back. It wasn’t even ten in the morning and he already looked done with the day.

“Doing ok?” Hawk asked unnecessarily, more in the hopes that Miguel would take the opportunity to vent than because he actually needed to be told the answer.

“Hmm?” Dark eyes blinked open slowly, blearily glancing over at him. He roughly rubbed his hands across his face, muffling his voice slightly when he continued, “Yeah, fine, just tired.”

Obvious bullshit, but Hawk wasn’t going to press him on it.

He sat next to Miguel, bringing his legs up onto the couch to cross them and pick distractedly at the hems of his sweats, trying to think of another angle to approach from. “What did he want to talk about?” he asked, hoping he sounded casual instead of demanding.

There was a long pause and the twist to Miguel’s lips suggested he was deciding how much he wanted to reveal.

Eli tried not to feel too frustrated by telling himself it probably wasn’t a lack of trust on Miguel’s part, but more likely about trying to protect him. That, or he was thinking how to word things in a way that wouldn’t lead to an angry outburst from Hawk, which wasn’t exactly an unlikely outcome given how he usually reacted to pretty much everything Hector did.

Eventually he settled on what he wanted to say though, heaving out a heavy sigh and sinking even further into the cushions. “He wants to start reducing how often I fight.”

“Seriously?” Eli couldn’t stop his brows from raising, though they quickly furrowed again. “That’s… good, right?”

It was the last thing he’d expected to come out of Miguel’s mouth, but it sounded good. Miguel not having to fight as often meant less opportunities for him to get injured and more time to recover when he did, as well as less emotional anguish over the kinds of things he needed to do to survive them. Of course it was good. Didn’t make much sense from Hector’s side of things though. He made a lot of money off of Miguel, so why would he take that hit?

Certainly not for his son’s benefit, that much Eli was sure of.

Miguel wasn’t responding, which only made him even surer there was a catch somewhere. He glanced at his boyfriend out of the corner of his eye. “Unless he’s planning on making you do something else instead?”

The brief grimace confirmed his suspicions.

“I don’t know the specifics yet, but he said he wanted to have me shadowing his own work,” Miguel said, voice tight and hands clenching and unclenching in his lap. “It’s not like it’s gonna be immediate – I’m still a big draw, he’ll need to find a replacement before he retires me from fighting – but he’s getting serious about this whole successor thing.”

He probably shouldn’t have been as surprised by the news as he was, Hector had already said that he wanted Miguel more involved in the business side of things, he’d just hoped they might have more time before that happened.

“We’ll figure something out.” The promise tasted weak as it rolled off his tongue.

And, judging from the bitter laugh he gave, Miguel felt the same way. “Figure out what? We’ve got a grace period while I’m recovering, but my injuries aren’t gonna last forever and we don’t exactly have a lot to bargain with.”

“I don’t know,” he said, frustration sharpening his tone as he pulled at a loose thread on his pants, unravelling the neat row of stiches, “is there anything that Hector wants?”

“Money, status. Success. He’s not that complicated a man, but he’s already got all that, all he could really want is more of it.”

And it wasn’t like either of them really had much power to give him more. Hawk had some savings back home, but they were pretty inaccessible to him right now and he was sure that they would be a drop in the ocean to a man like Hector. And Miguel’s entire income apparently came from his fights, which didn’t go all that far, especially when he was taken out of commission like he was now; in those times he had to rely on his father. And as for status… neither Hawk nor Miguel had much influence down here and Hector was doing just fine on that front by himself.

“There’s got to be something we could do.”

Miguel gave him a hard look. “I’ve been trying to think of a way out of this whole situation since I got tangled up in it,” he said, exhaustion weighing down every word as he let his head tip back against the back of the couch, “you can see how far it’s gotten me.”

The curiosity he had been feeling since he first found Miguel here was creeping back to the surface, so, since Miguel seemed to be somewhat open to sharing right now, Eli decided to ask one of the questions that’d been bothering him for weeks now, “How’d he get you involved in all this in the first place?”

Brown eyes landed heavily on him, staring long enough to make Eli begin to squirm under the attention. Even if it was with his boyfriend, he had still never enjoyed prolonged eye contact.

“Gradually,” Miguel eventually said, turning his blank gaze up to the ceiling, “it started with the MMA. I’d mentioned training in karate to Dad, so he took me to watch some matches, introduced me to some fighters and they offered to show me some moves, just casual stuff but I kinda got into grappling and everyone kept telling me I had a talent for it, so I kept practicing.”

Eli watched him carefully, trying to pick out any signs of hesitation or avoidance, but, now that the dam had broken, it seemed like he suddenly couldn’t stop talking.

“After a couple months my dad decided he was gonna make it a thing and got me into a few amateur matches and I was really enjoying it, like I hadn’t enjoyed fighting since the original Cobra Kai days, when it was you, me and Aisha-” Hawk felt a smile tugging at his own lips to match the nostalgic grin spreading across Miguel’s, he missed those old days too “-around that time was when he finally found out I was actually his son.”

That caught him by surprise. “Wait, you said this was after a couple months? You waited that long to tell him?”

The smile quickly dropped as Miguel grimaced instead. “I never actually told him, he, uh…” Releasing a long sigh, Miguel let his head tilt away so Eli couldn’t see his face, hiding whatever expression he didn’t want him to see. “He went looking through my phone, saw some pictures of me with my mom and Yaya, didn’t take him long to put two and two together.”

“What the fuck,” Hawk snapped, twisting in place to better face Miguel, though his boyfriend pointedly refused to look back towards him, “why was he looking through your phone?”

“Don’t know, I asked but he never gave me a real answer, but, I mean, he can get a little paranoid sometimes.” That was hardly an excuse, though it wasn’t all that surprising, just another thing to add to the list of Hector’s shitty actions. “I was pissed about it at first too, but he was just so happy, insisted that we had to make up for lost time and he treated me like an actual son, made me feel good about myself, for the first time in… I don’t even know how long.”

And there it was. He’d suspected it from the beginning, but that wasn’t the same as hearing Miguel confirm it out loud.

“Was that why you left?” he asked, barely above a whisper. “Because you weren’t happy at home?”

Miguel finally turned to him again, almost looking like a lost child, hurt and confusion swirling in his eyes. “I- I don’t even know anymore. There was so much going on, between my recovery, the tournament, Cobra Kai and everything with Sam and Robby and Sensei…”

He couldn’t help letting out a tiny huff of laughter as he remembered how bad those times had been. “Yeah, I can understand needing a break from it all.”

Could’ve done with one himself honestly, and he imagined that everyone else had felt the same way. Maybe that’s what they should have done, all of the kids fucking off together to escape all the bullshit, it certainly would’ve been a clear message to the adults who were supposed to be controlling the situation that they’d royally fucked up. Couldn’t keep fighting a war if all your soldiers deserted at once.

“It wasn’t that, it was more like-” Miguel cut himself off and stuttered out several incomplete syllables as he tried to work through what he wanted to say, sitting up properly and pulling his good leg to curl against his chest, deep furrow settling on his brow.

Eli started to get the feeling that this was maybe something Miguel hadn’t quite unpacked yet, and he was trying to figure out the exact reasons for why he left for himself as well.

It had been assumed that Miguel’s decision to leave was premeditated. He’d chosen the perfect time to run – when everyone would be too distracted by the tournament to immediately chase after him – and the window for him to leave the arena, get home, pack his things, write a letter to his family and get to the bus station was so tiny it had to have been meticulously planned. On top of that, not long after Cobra Kai shut down for good, Hawk had overheard Sensei Lawrence and Mr LaRusso talking about how in the lead-up to the tournament Miguel had spoken to each of them about his father, even mentioned knowing he was currently living in Mexico. Clearly the thought had been in his head long before he actually left.

But with the way he was acting, like he was struggling to explain his own actions, maybe it hadn’t been planned at all. Maybe this whole time the decision to come here had been pure impulse that he hadn’t fully thought through.

It was almost a relief.

If he’d planned everything, then that meant he’d weighed up the options and decided that he didn’t need Hawk in his life, along with everyone else who cared about him. If it was spontaneous, then maybe he just hadn’t considered everything he would be leaving behind.

“Christ, I don’t even-”

Miguel’s strained voice snapped him out of his thoughts and back to the present moment.

He was curling up on himself as much as possible, fingers digging roughly into his ankle as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded, eyes fixed on the coffee table in front of him.

Lost. It really was the only way to describe how he looked.

Slowly reaching out, Eli laid a hand firmly on Miguel’s shoulder, making him jump slightly and jerk his head around to face him. He quickly relaxed again though – at least a little bit – bringing one of his own hands up to squeeze Hawk’s, not to push him away, but to hold him in place.

“After the injury,” he choked out, not needing to specify which one, “I spent months feeling like I was completely cut off from the world, the only people I saw anymore were my mom, Yaya and Sensei. School carried on without me, you all kept training and improving your skills, while I couldn’t even stand up, let alone throw a kick, and I all I could do was watch as I was being left behind by the world.”

The guilt was immediate and sharp, stabbing into his abdomen. “Shit man, I’m- I should have come to see you more, I wanted to, I just didn’t know what I could do, wasn’t sure if you even wanted me around.”

Miguel shook his head. “I didn’t, not at the time, I hated the thought of you seeing me so pathetic.”

“You’ve never been pathetic,” he said, grip on his boyfriend’s shoulder tightening briefly for what little reassurance it offered.

Miguel gave him a weak smile. “You didn’t see how bad it got-” his hand slipped away from Hawk’s, though made no move that suggested he wanted Eli to let go, so he didn’t “-but even after I’d mostly recovered and things had started to get back to normal, I had missed so much, everyone had changed and I was just scrambling to catch up, I barely understood what was going on anymore.”

“I mean, I don’t think any of us really had much of a clue at that point.”

“But at least you had most of the context, I’d fallen so far behind I just had to look on from the outside while pretending I belonged, but that outsider perspective did help me realise some things.” His expression hardened a little before he continued, “At the tournament, Sensei was saying all this shit about you being the enemy, how I needed to push through my injury so we could stick it to LaRusso and everyone else and… I just stopped caring. We were fighting two old men’s rivalry decades after they should’ve gotten over it and I couldn’t even remember why I’d started karate in the first place because everything was so tied up in that stupid fucking war.”

Hawk blinked in shock at that revelation. He’d known that Johnny had been pissed about him entering the tournament under Miyagi-Do instead of Eagle Fang, but he hadn’t thought he’d take it that far, or that he would pressure Miguel to keep fighting even after spraining his back.

Surely he knew better than anyone the risk that posed for him? No wonder Miguel decided he was done with everything after that.

He slid his hand to curl lightly around the back of his boyfriend’s neck, thumb rubbing small circles into the soft skin there, but remained silent, giving Miguel the space to talk that he so clearly had been needing for a long time.

“Staying here wasn’t the original plan, I just wanted to meet my dad, sit down and have one real conversation with the guy,” he eventually said, closing his eyes and leaning into Eli’s hand with a soft hum, “I wasn’t even sure I could actually find him; I only had some old social media accounts to go by and some serious luck.”

Not sure meeting your old man was all that lucky for you, the words were scratching across his tongue, practically begging to be let out, but he clamped his mouth shut knowing that Miguel wouldn’t react well to them.

Instead he tried a different approach. “But you did find him.”

“Yeah, saw him with Maria and Luis, looking like a perfect family,” he said softly, expression fond and sincere, “pequeño mocoso^[119] ran into the road chasing his soccer ball and I pulled him out of the way of a car, I was practically dragged to dinner after and they offered to let me stay with them a while as thanks.”

“Why didn’t you tell him you were his son then?”

Miguel raised a brow and gave him an unimpressed look. “How would you go about telling a man with a happy family that you’ve only just met that you’re pretty sure he’s actually your father?”

“Ok, fair.” He took a moment to mentally thank his own father for having a mostly normal relationship with him, so he had never had to worry about things like that. “So, how’d you go from legit MMA matches to underground fighting ring?”

“I’d already started to figure out he was doing some shady stuff by then, just, the way he talked sometimes, the people he hung out with… he wasn’t doing much to hide his real business from me, it was obvious that he was involved with something illegal,” he said, leaning very slightly away from Hawk, while wrapping his arms tighter around his own leg.

“You stuck around though.”

“I was still trying to get used to having an actual dad and, well, you remember when I said my passport went missing? Pretty sure I mentioned that to you at some point.”

Eli remembered Miguel admitting that he suspected Hector had stolen it. He nodded slowly.

“Dad said he would help me sort out a replacement when I needed it, but I couldn’t do that without basically announcing to him I wanted to go home, which felt like it would be cruel when he was so excited about having a son.”

Putting barriers in place to prevent Miguel from leaving by himself, then making him feel guilty for even wanting to. Hector must’ve known exactly what he was doing.

“And it wasn’t like he was inviting me to join his gang or anything, it was more he gradually started familiarising me with those elements of his life by talking more casually to me about his business and introducing me to people like Cruz and Saul.” He let out a long sigh, dropping his head forwards onto his knee. “By the time I was asked to fight for the first time, it was too late, I was already in too deep to try and leave, especially when I had Luis and Maria to protect…”

While he believed that Miguel really did worry about them and wanted to keep them away from all the danger Hector brought with him everywhere he went, Eli wondered if he had maybe just latched onto them as a reasonable excuse for why he didn’t want to leave.

Of course he had to stay, there were innocent people who could be at risk if he left, he had no choice.

He wasn’t staying because his father had manipulated him into believing he had no other option.

He wasn’t staying because he had an unhealthy attachment to the man who was responsible for all of them being in danger in the first place.

He let his fingers drift up the length of Miguel’s neck to stroke through his hair, shivering slightly at the ticklish sensation of the curled strands grazing against his palm. “You know, I could call Demetri and the others, explain-”

Miguel jerked away from his touch, head snapping around to turn the full force of his glare on Hawk. “No, I don’t want them involved.”

“You let me get involved,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice.

“Because you’re a stubborn asshole and if I didn’t you probably would’ve gotten yourself killed doing something dangerous.”

Eli tried not to let the sharp words hurt him, and hopefully did a good enough job of schooling his expression into a blank mask that Miguel didn’t pick up on that. But it did hurt that that was still how his boyfriend was seeing their situation, even after everything they had talked about since. He’d thought they were more on the same page.

Sighing, Miguel ran his hands through his hair, tugging a little at the roots. “I can’t protect everyone from my dad and you know what they’re like. If they knew they’d try and turn this into another fucking war or something, I came here to get away from all that.”

Eli kept the thought that the place he’d escaped to wasn’t any more peaceful than the way things had been in the valley when he left to himself. “They could still help find some way to stop Hector.”

“Stop him from what?”

Fucking hell, was he really going to make him say it?

“Miguel…” He was already reaching forwards to pull Miguel’s hand from where it was still gripping his own hair, unfurling the tight grip and pulling it in-between them, loosely tangling their fingers together.

It was almost unbearable holding his boyfriend’s apprehensive gaze, but he owed Miguel at least that much, especially considering what he said next.

“He’s abusing you; you have to see that.”

Even expecting the statement to not be taken well, he hadn’t been prepared for how rapidly several expressions passed across Miguel’s face, none lasting long enough to pin down, but the general overarching vibes of shock and fury and hurt were too obvious to ignore.

Finally he seemed to settle on a kind of stressed coldness, mouth pressed into a hard, thin line, eyes burning with anger as he practically spat, “I’m not a victim.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Eli said softly, and it was true.

Miguel was a survivor, always had been.

“You just said that my dad is- that he’s- it’s not like that.” He jerked his hand out of Eli’s loose grip, backing up as much as he could on the small couch, anger quickly fading into that confused anxiety that Hector always brought out in him. “Look, I know he’s kind of fucked up, it’s just… the only way he knows how to be.”

Are you trying to convince me, or yourself? He wanted to ask it, knew Miguel was already wondering it himself on some level, if only because of the way he was avoiding making eye contact and that uncertain tremble to his voice that Hawk had last heard when Johnny broke up the dojos just before the All-Valley.

But – as with their old sensei – apparently Miguel still had a serious blind spot when it came to the men in his life that he looked up to, even for someone like Hector.

And, credit where it was due, Johnny might have been a master at finding bold, exciting new ways to fuck up not only his own life but the lives of everyone around him, but Eli would never call him a monster. An idiot, definitely. A bad role model, yeah a lot of the time he was. He’d even call him a toxic piece of shit if he was in a particularly bad mood. But never a monster.

Not like Kreese was a monster, or Silver.

Or Hector.

“If he doesn’t know how to be a father then he doesn’t deserve you treating him like one,” he said, and he could hear the anger sharpening his own voice to a fine, razor-sharp edge.

It was nothing compared to the pure steel in the glare Miguel threw at him in response however. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, every word slow and careful and trembling, as if it was taking everything in him not to scream them, “you’ve only seen him at his worst, he’s not like that all the time, not even most of the time-”

“He shouldn’t be like that any of the time!” How was Hector’s hold on his son so tight that he was still trying to defend him, even after everything Eli had seen?

Miguel sucked in a short breath, holding it for several seconds before he slowly let it out again. He still looked pissed, but sounded more tired than angry when he mumbled that he was going to try and get some more rest, not waiting for a response from Hawk before pushing himself to his feet and shuffling towards his bedroom.

He did pause when Eli called out to him though, “Look, I-”

One look at his turned back, shoulders rigid with tension and he knew the argument was over.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his loose hair, quietly saying, “I’m gonna make some breakfast, you want any?”

Without turning around, Miguel nodded once before disappearing through the door.

Eli heaved out a prolonged groan and trudged to the kitchen, mindlessly searching for something easy to make while most of his thoughts swirled around the much bigger dilemma of how to get through to his boyfriend. He was clearly in denial about the nature of his relationship with his father, which was understandable, the man was manipulative as all hell and Miguel had always been so desperate for any kind of father figure – enough that he’d latched onto one as incompetent as Johnny until the man went and fucked that up – of course he would be reluctant to let go of his actual father, no matter how awful a person he was.

And just pointing the obvious out to him wasn’t going to work apparently. It was frustrating to see so clearly what was going on, yet not be able to get Miguel to see it too because he didn’t want to hear it. But what other way could he go about it? He wasn’t going to listen to Hawk’s words and even Hector’s own actions weren’t enough to fully convince him, so what else could possibly work?

He managed to find some eggs and bread and decided that sunny side up with toast was about all his frazzled brain would be able to handle cooking right now.

By the time he’d finished up, he wasn’t any closer to figuring out how to break through the impenetrable shield of delusion that Miguel had shrouded himself in, but he had cooled off enough that he wasn’t so irritated anymore. And, when he gingerly opened the door to Miguel’s room and saw him sitting on the bed, both arms hugging his uninjured leg to his chest, staring blankly out the window, any lingering annoyance was quickly swept away.

Miguel was the one actually going through all this shit, coping as best he could. Eli had the privilege of being relatively detached from anything here except for Miguel himself. A luxury that Miguel didn’t have because, no matter whatever else Hector might be, he was still his father and that one fact alone must bring a lot of complicated feelings along with it.

He shouldn’t blame him for clinging to whatever tiny shred of comfort pretending his father actually cared about him offered.

Hawk himself had once harboured similar feelings towards someone he had looked up to. He had no room to judge.

It wasn’t until Eli cleared his throat that Miguel finally tore his gaze away from the window, jumping slightly as the noise jolted him out of whatever trance he’d been in. He opened his mouth to say that breakfast was ready, but only got out a single syllable when he was interrupted.

“I’m sorry,” Miguel said in a rush, arms clenching a little tighter around his leg, “I shouldn’t have gotten so mad at you, you’re just trying to help, I just-”

“You’re allowed to be mad at me.”

Miguel’s mouth hung open as he tried to process that statement.

“You’re allowed to be mad about this whole situation too,” Hawk continued, slowly stepping into the room and sitting next to his boyfriend, though he was careful to keep enough distance between them that they weren’t touching to avoid crowding Miguel, “and I’m allowed to be mad too, but I’m on your side man, I just want us both to survive this.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Reaching out slowly to nudge Miguel’s arm with his fist, Hawk chuckled. “Seriously, stop apologising,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face that didn’t at all match his real feelings, but did seem to make Miguel relax, “for now, how about we just eat breakfast?”

The relief his boyfriend felt was obvious in how quickly the tension in his body melted away, he nodded eagerly, clearly happy to be avoiding the subject that had made him so upset in the first place for at least a little longer.

It was going to come up again at some point, Eli knew that much already, they couldn’t avoid it forever and when it did inevitably come up again it was going to be messy. There was a part of himself begging him to stop being such a coward and just talk this out now, find a way to get through to Miguel, no matter how long it took, no matter how much it hurt them both. But… he didn’t want to risk ruining whatever they had right now, it was still too new, too fragile, he feared that it might not survive if he messed things up.

And he just didn’t want to cause Miguel any more stress.

Sighing, he stood up and offered his hand to his boyfriend, letting the warm feeling he felt when Miguel took it smother the anxiety still pricking under his skin as he dragged them out to enjoy their – by now probably lukewarm and unappetising – eggs.

He could put things off a little longer.

It would be fine.

---

The cold water was a shock to his system, jolting his mind wide awake, even though his heavy, tired eyes struggled to stay open.

Sighing, he finished washing his hands and dried them on the first towel he could find, digging his fingers into the slightly scratchy material in the hopes it would leech some of the cold from them. He’d been doing this too long to truly hate it like he once had, but it also wasn’t a part of his night that he particularly looked forwards to either. It was just an unpleasant necessity he’d learned to live with.

More awake than he wanted to be, but knowing he couldn’t exactly stand in front of the sink for the rest of the night, Eli dragged himself out of the bathroom and immediately headed over to crash on the couch, as had become his usual routine since moving in with Miguel.

He threw the bedroom door a guilty glance as he loosely wrapped himself in his blanket.

After the first couple of nights Miguel had gotten on his case about sleeping on the couch, worrying about the state it was leaving his back in in the mornings and suggesting they just share his bed. He’d been stubbornly refusing the offer every time it was given, not because he didn’t want to – the excited thrill that had passed through him when Miguel first proposed it was undeniable – but because he’d known this was going to be an issue. He’d only given in tonight when Miguel had literally picked him up and carried him to bed stating in no uncertain terms that the issue was not up for debate and he was going to sleep on an actual fucking mattress if it killed him.

It had brought that same warm, embarrassed rush to Eli that a lot of Miguel’s actions did and, even with his cheeks burning and heart racing, he’d laughed and let his boyfriend drag him under the sheets and wrap himself around Hawk like a limpet refusing to let go of its rock.

He’d almost been able to forget why he’d been so adamant against this in the first place.

Then his alarm had gone off.

He was already awake when it did, but he was so wrapped up in enjoying the feeling of Miguel’s heavy limbs draped over him that he’d been able to forget why he had automatically woken up at that time and hadn’t had the forethought to stop the alarm before it’d started.

And it turned out that Miguel was a pretty light sleeper, because he’d groaned into the back of his neck the second the soft tune started playing, arms squeezing around Eli’s waist as he reluctantly tried to extract himself from his grip.

Sharing a bed was always going to be difficult for him, because the only options were that his partner would either have to put up with the rude awakenings in the early hours of the morning, or they could potentially be waking up to something even worse if he didn’t follow the routine he’d been practising since he was a kid.

Once he’d finally managed to escape to the bathroom, he decided not to return to bed. Miguel had probably already fallen back asleep anyway, he didn’t want to disturb him again.

So he went back to the couch instead.

It wasn’t even that bad really, sure he’d be feeling stiff as fuck in the morning, but he was physically fit, he could stretch it out easy enough once he woke up.

Was this always how it was going to be though? Terrified to share this one specific kind of intimacy with someone he cared about, despite craving it with everything he had. All because his stupid fucking body refused to let him have just this one thing. And how long was Miguel going to put up with that? Because none of his previous partners had appreciated how quick he was to escape any situation that meant having to sleep in the same bed as them, even Moon, though she at least understood the cause of his hang-ups.

The frustrating thoughts weren’t making it any easier to drop off. He tightly squeezed his eyes shut and tried desperately to let his mind wander to a more pleasant topic. Or even just a different unpleasant topic. Just anything that wasn’t this-

His eyes snapped open when he heard the faint click, landing on the source of the tiny disturbance in the quiet night.

Miguel leaned heavily against the doorframe, clearly struggling to stand up straight. “Hawk?”

“Yeah?”

“Come back to bed,” he said, voice raspy and rough and barely audible. Eli hesitated, but at the tired glare his boyfriend threw him he followed the order – if only because Miguel would absolutely come and physically drag him if he didn’t – pushing himself up and slipping into the bedroom after Miguel as he staggered back, flopping onto the mattress hard enough that he bounced before settling.

Eli sat carefully on the bed next to him, but didn’t climb back under the sheets. “Sorry for waking you up.” He reached down to card his fingers through Miguel’s hair, feeling a tiny smile pull at his lips when Miguel let out a contented hum.

He mumbled something directly into the pillow, muffing his voice to the point of incomprehensibility – though Eli thought he might’ve heard something like ‘’s fine’ – before turning his head enough that he could speak and actually be heard, “What’s with the alarms anyway?”

Was he seriously asking that? Everyone else at their school knew about his issue, there was no way Miguel didn’t, he’d even been at the party where it’d been revealed…

But he hadn’t been in the room when it’d happened.

And the next day they hadn’t even gotten through second period before Miguel had been kicked off a balcony and both of their lives had been changed irreparably.

The rumours had circulated the school for months after that, but Miguel hadn’t been there for it, he’d been in a coma, or at home recovering once he’d finally woken up. By the time he returned to class, Bedwetter Eli was old news. He still got shit for it, obviously, but it was hardly the hot gossip it’d been when the news was fresh and exciting. Mostly he just got occasional stupid notes left in his locker and snickers poorly hidden behind hands when he passed by. There was actually a very real possibility that Miguel genuinely hadn’t heard anything about it.

He could keep the one person whose respect he most desired in the dark about one of the biggest shames in his life. Miguel didn’t need to find out exactly how much of a loser he really was, he could pretend a little while longer.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Miguel’s eyes searched his for a long time, long enough to have Eli squirming in place at the eye contact. “Ok,” he eventually said, “but could you at least come back to bed afterwards? You’re seriously gonna do yourself some damage always sleeping on that couch, trust me, the back pain is not worth it.”

His heart clenched painfully and he let out his held breath in a slow, shaky exhale.

Miguel wasn’t pressuring him, he wasn’t digging for an answer, he’d accept Eli’s silence if that was all he wanted to give him.

There weren’t many people who he had that with, too intrigued by the tantalising promise of an embarrassing secret to be revealed. But Miguel was willing to put aside whatever curiosity he felt for Eli’s comfort.

He really could keep this part of himself hidden away, like he’d always wanted to.

But… maybe it didn’t have to remain a secret. This time he could open up on his own terms. Demetri wasn’t here to rip the curtain off of one of his biggest anxieties, this time he could control how Miguel found out about this thing he’d been so desperate to never let him discover. Because it wouldn’t be fair to keep it from him forever. Especially not if they were going to be dating, sharing a bed, long-term.

And fuck did he want this to be a long-term thing.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Miguel reaching up and gently tugging at the neckline of his t-shirt until Hawk got the hint and lay down next to him. He hadn’t even fully gotten under the sheets before Miguel’s overly-warm body was wrapping itself around him again, one arm draped over his waist, leg hooking behind his knee to drag him closer.

Who even needed a weighted blanket when you had such a clingy boyfriend? Eli snorted and let himself be manoeuvred to Miguel’s liking, until they were face-to-face and tangled together in a way that was definitely going to leave him overheated within the hour.

Eli would’ve loved to just keep watching as Miguel gradually drifted off, but he’d made a decision and didn’t trust himself to still be feeling brave enough to go through with it if he put it off until morning.

“Have you ever heard of nocturnal enuresis?” he said, words sounding like a sledgehammer in the quiet darkness.

“Uh.” Miguel’s brows creased and his eyes squinted open again, giving him a confused look; clearly he hadn’t been prepared for a pop quiz at ass-o’clock in the morning. Eli had to resist the urge to lean forwards and kiss that cute little crinkle on his nose. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s a condition where you have involuntary nocturnal urinat-”

Almost unconsciously, he found himself defaulting to the overly technical medical-jargon explanation he always gave whenever he’d been forced into a situation where he’d had to talk about this in the past. It was just a way to distance himself from the reality of the situation, he knew that, but it just felt so much safer than just saying it bluntly.

He was sick of running away from this.

“Basically it’s wetting the bed even when you’re not a kid.” He sighed, risking a glance at Miguel.

He was nodding along, but there was still that blank bewilderment to his expression that suggested he hadn’t yet put the pieces together. Apparently sleep-deprived Miguel wasn’t as quick on the uptake as he normally was.

“It’s a condition I have.”

“Oh.” It took several seconds for realisation to settle into Miguel’s eyes, though he still didn’t really have much of a response. “Huh.”

Eli stared in disbelief. Was it just because he was half-asleep already that he didn’t have the energy to freak out like everyone else he’d ever told? Or maybe he thought it was some kind of joke, or he just hadn’t fully grasped exactly what it meant yet, because there was no other explanation for how he was reacting so calmly. “That’s it?”

Shrugging awkwardly, Miguel’s gaze skittered away from Eli’s. “Well, I mean I’ve had some issues with that kind of thing in the past too, so…”

“Everyone wets the bed as a kid Miguel.” He tried not to sound too irritated, but he’d heard that exact comment so many fucking times in the past and he was honestly sick of it.

“No, I mean-” brown eyes, basically black in the dark room, briefly settled on his face before dropping again, fingers twitching against Eli’s spine “-after my back injury, it wasn’t just my legs that were affected. Basically the whole time I was recovering I had to deal with some incontinence.”

That… wasn’t what he’d been expecting to hear.

Miguel bit his lip, rushing to carry on as if Hawk’s lack of reaction had scared him, “It’s not the same, I get that, but I just mean that I can understand how big a deal this is for you.”

Of course he’d met people with similar issues to his before – his parents had been big believers in support groups and had encouraged him to join several at various points in his life – but never someone he’d known before finding out about it, and never someone like Miguel. “You never mentioned it.”

“Well, yeah, it was embarrassing,” he said, voice cracking a little as he buried his face deeper into his pillow, “I wouldn’t have admitted it if you hadn’t first. It means a lot to me that you trust me enough to tell me.”

He almost hadn’t told him, but he had to admit it felt good to get this weight he hadn’t even realised he’d been carrying into this relationship off of his chest.

“So the alarms help you to manage it?” Miguel asked, stifling a yawn.

Eli nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been doing it for years now, along with some other things, it helps but…” He didn’t want to admit that it wasn’t always a guarantee that he wouldn’t have an accident, even if it had been happening way less since he’d started taking those measures. He probably didn’t need to anyway, Miguel was giving him a small, slightly pitying smile that suggested he knew how that sentence was going to end. “Look, if you don’t want to share a bed with me anymo-”

The arm around his waist squeezed tighter, cutting him off. “Why wouldn’t I want that?” Miguel asked, voice losing a little of its sluggish drawl as he woke up more.

“Don’t make me say it out loud.”

“If you’re trying to scare me off, it’s not gonna work,” he said, and despite still looking tired as hell, there was a familiar kind of spark in his eyes that Hawk remembered seeing back when they were being taught a particularly tricky move and he was determined to master it. Then a wide grin overtook his face. “Honestly my biggest problem sharing a bed with you is that your hands and feet are always fucking freezing.”

“Oh really?” Well, he just had to test that, didn’t he? Grinning himself, Hawk snuck his fingers under Miguel’s shirt, skimming across his burning skin and snorting when he felt him flinch away.

A hand suddenly clamped around his wrist, dragging it away, though Miguel was still laughing when he said, “Knock it off dude.”

He didn’t let up, snaking his other hand around his boyfriend’s neck and sliding it down his spine, drawing a gasped curse out of Miguel as he did so. When Miguel tried to shuffle away, Hawk carefully hooked his foot around Miguel’s good leg and let his cold toes run up to the back of his knee, until the two ended up wrestling each other, snickering and swearing at each other the entire time.

Though, even as unserious as the fight was and as exhausted as they both were, Miguel had the advantage in grappling techniques. So Hawk wasn’t all that surprised when he found himself pinned to the mattress, his boyfriend hovering above him panting lightly.

If he was struggling to think clearly, it definitely wasn’t because all the blood normally in his brain had migrated south for the winter.

He really wanted to kiss him, and Miguel must have sensed that because he was quickly dropping down to crush their lips together.

There was definitely something unique about kissing Miguel. Not because he was a guy, that fact didn’t really make much of a difference – though the scratch of stubble against Hawk’s skin certainly provided some… interesting sensations he was surprised to find he liked as much as he did – but because it was Miguel. He wasn’t afraid to be aggressive, to push and pull and demand. He still had that original Cobra Kai ‘strike first’ attitude that had originally captivated Eli when they’d first met.

But he was also attentive and let Eli create boundaries when needed.

The first time they’d found an opportunity to explore physical intimacy with each other, Miguel had unknowingly stumbled into one of Eli’s biggest sensory revulsions when he began lightly brushing his fingertips up and down his arms in a way that’d caused Hawk to reflexively push him back.

He’d been embarrassed as hell when he admitted that the feather-light touches were triggering some serious sensory havoc that left his skin feeling like it was being turned inside out, and not in a good way. But the realisation had immediately dawned on his boyfriend’s face and he’d grilled him on how he wanted to be touched instead and, ever since, any time Miguel made contact his hands were firm against Eli, with strong, consistent pressure. Even his casual touches were like that.

Just like they were now, as he let the weight of his body settle more fully against Eli. At some point Hawk’s hands had been released, so he took advantage of the chance to wrap them around Miguel’s waist, fingers seeking out warm skin where his top had ridden up slightly.

Miguel briefly pulled back with a grin. “Hey, your hands aren’t so cold anymore.”

“You suggesting we need to do this every night to make sleeping in the same bed bearable for you?” It was certainly one way of heating him up. “I’d be down for that.”

Snorting, Miguel gave him a strange, unreadable look for a few seconds, before leaning down to press a short, sweet peck on him, whispering against his lips, “Eres lindo.”^[120]

“I’m not cute.”

“Yes you are,” Miguel said resolutely, bringing a hand up to clamp over his mouth before Hawk could try to refute him and placing a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’re handsome too-” another to his forehead “-and hot-” the tip of his nose “-and beautiful-” he lifted his hand so he could press soft lips against his “-and sexy and-”

Trying not to spontaneously combust – or failing that, at least not start crying because his boyfriend was such a sappy dork who somehow knew exactly how to quiet his most persistent fears – Hawk laughed as he pressed his entire hand against Miguel’s face and pushed him back.

He definitely felt another kiss pressing into his palm, but ignored the blush it brought to his cheeks in favour of rolling them both to the side so they were lying down next to each other. “I think being awake this early is making you delirious, we should go back to sleep,” he said, finally pulling his hand away from Miguel’s face and draping it over his waist instead.

“Probably.” Miguel yawned before once again wrapping himself around Eli in a tangle of limbs. “But it’s all true.”

That comment only got his cheeks feeling even hotter than they already had been. He rolled his eyes, but let his partner bury his face into his neck without complaint. “Uh-huh.”

“If I tell you again in the morning when I’m not so loopy, will you believe me then?”

Miguel’s voice was already getting soft and slurred and his sleepiness was affecting Eli, the brief rush of excitement from their play-fight already fading away into a more comfortable quiet. His heart was still thudding a little hard against his chest, but he was willing to bet it was mostly down to having Miguel curled against him like this.

He wasn’t sure if there would ever be a point where he fully believed anyone could think of him that way. But he hoped that maybe Miguel might be the one to find a way to make it happen.

“Go to sleep,” he mumbled softly into dark curls, squeezing his arms a little tighter around his boyfriend, “I promise I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

---

Hawk was starting to get a little stir-crazy.

In many ways, the time he’d been living at Miguel’s place was amazing, because of course it was. He’d always enjoyed spending time with the guy, even before kissing and cuddling became a regular part of their relationship.

The fact that he could reach out to where Miguel was sitting at the other end of the small couch – legs kicked up resting on Eli’s lap while he read one of the sci-fi novels Eli had brought to keep him occupied on the flight to Mexico – brush his hand through his thick hair and have Miguel lean into the touch with a hum and a cute little smile still made him feel a kind of giddy he hadn’t realised was possible.

It helped that they’d been blessed with two relatively Hector-free weeks. He called every few days and had dropped by once to check on his son, but other than that he might as well have not existed.

Eli could see how the space from his father had been gradually lightening Miguel’s mood. He was laughing and joking more, being even more physically affectionate than usual, and he was no longer getting the mood swings between anger and depression that had made the first few days after the underground match difficult to get through.

Away from Hector and all the awful shit that the man tended to bring with him, Miguel was slowly returning to his old self; open and lively and playful.

And then there were the things that weren’t quite his old self – at least not the Miguel that Hawk had ever had the pleasure of knowing – but were still very welcome. The way he was constantly seeking even the barest amount of contact, fingers brushing against skin as he walked past, soft gazes showered on Eli as they sat separately doing their own thing.

And the regular kisses and pecks on the cheek were especially welcome, even if they were sprung on him at the most unexpected times; while he was brushing his teeth, as he was digging through the fridge looking for a snack, while he was practically tearing Miguel’s wardrobe apart trying to organise it by colour…

Miguel was extremely generous with his affection.

It was honestly a little overwhelming at times to have so much attention fixed on him, but it was a kind of overwhelming he didn’t mind. Like that moment on a rollercoaster when you come to the top of a huge drop and feel your stomach start to rise up into your chest as it can’t keep up with the rest of your body.

But, even as exciting as that feeling and all the little things he found himself able to indulge in with his boyfriend were, they’d barely left the apartment in two weeks except to get groceries and Hawk was beginning to feel that restless itch that usually preceded him doing something impulsive.

“We should go out somewhere.”

Like that.

“Dude, we had lunch twenty minutes ago, you can’t be hungry already,” Miguel said, not even lifting his eyes from the page he was currently reading.

“No, not like-” He sighed and let his hand drop from Miguel’s hair to his jaw, turning his head until he was forced to look away from the book and focus on Hawk instead. “I meant like on a date.”

Those beautiful brown eyes went so wide Hawk literally felt his heart clench. It was the exact same feeling he used to get whenever he saw his bubbe’s^[121] puppy. It had this habit of sitting next to him when he was eating and staring up at him with eyes so big and round and pleading he would be giving it a scrap of whatever he had before remembering that he wasn’t really allowed to, by which point it had already snatched up its prize and run away.

Miguel could easily weaponize that look against him and Hawk would happily give in each and every time.

But the wide-eyed grin didn’t last for very long before it was slowly overcome by an increasingly familiar sombre expression weighing down his eyes. He didn’t need to say anything for Eli to know what had brought it on. Only thinking of Hector could manage to suck the life out of Miguel like that.

“It doesn’t have to be anything big or whatever, I know we have to keep on the down low,” he rushed to say, brushing his thumb lightly against Miguel’s cheek, “but I just want to go somewhere new with you, spend some time doing something you enjoy here.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Miguel stuck a bookmark between the pages he’d been reading and closed the book, pressing the slightly curling covers flat between his hands. “I don’t really get out much to be honest. If I’m not with my dad, Maria, Luis or Tadeo then the only place I go to regularly is my gym which-” he gestured vaguely to his leg, as if reluctant to even acknowledge it “-Coach Ossi would kick my ass if I show up there in this condition, he’s really strict about not training while injured.”

Well at least one person down here cared enough to not let Miguel hurt himself.

But sad thoughts about his shitty situation weren’t what Eli had wanted to bring about, he’d wanted to embrace the inch of freedom they’d been given and encourage Miguel to do the same. So he angled his partner’s face back up and gave him a grin. “There must be something you do for fun.”

“Sure, cooking, reading, soccer with Luis, drinking with Tadeo, training…” He trailed off, looking a little embarrassed when he admitted, “That’s kind of it actually.”

Hawk frowned for a second, that wasn’t how Miguel had been when they were younger. He’d had all sorts of hobbies outside of karate; drawing and painting, jogging, singing with his mom – a secret hobby Hawk had only found out about when he once walked in on them both belting along to Selena – watching telenovelas with his yaya, binging anything and everything 80s with Johnny, hanging out with Hawk and the others at the dojo, or Golf ‘N Stuff, or the beach.

Once again Hawk was ready to be angry at Hector for taking all that away from him, but that wasn’t going to help him achieve his current goal, so he shoved all the anger down as hard as he could and let a smile spread across his face instead when an idea came to him.

“So, let’s just go wandering around the city until we find something interesting then.”

“What?” Miguel chuckled briefly, a tiny smirk twisting at his lips. “That’s a terrible idea.”

Despite his words, Hawk suspected from the little spark flickering to life in his eyes he might be a bit more excited by the suggestion than he was letting on, so he just grinned and let his free hand drop onto Miguel’s good knee, squeezing lightly. “It’s an amazing idea actually, because aimlessly wandering around Mexico City with no plan is how I found you.”

“I had wondered about that,” Miguel said raising a brow.

He chuckled. “Yeah, it was a total coincidence, but it was the best stupid decision I ever made,” he said, hand slipping just a little bit up towards Miguel’s thigh, watching in fascination as he shuddered at the touch.

Actually, maybe they didn’t have to go out, because Miguel was giving him a look that was already making Hawk’s pulse hammer beneath his skin and had a heavy warmth settling deep in his stomach.

But he had looked so excited earlier at the prospect of going on an actual date, a kind of childish delight that he hadn’t seen once since finding Miguel here. He wanted to see more of that, wanted Miguel to just fucking relax for once, make up for all the time they’d lost. There’d be opportunities for exploring each other in… other ways later. So, fighting down his libido, he gave his boyfriend a wide grin and said in as seductive a voice as he could muster, “C’mon babe, let’s go get lost together.”

Bursting out in a fit of laughter, Miguel leaned forward and stole a quick kiss from him. “That was so fucking cheesy,” he said, still chuckling against his lips, “let’s do it.”

---

Their blind wandering of Mexico City was a total success, as far as Hawk was concerned. Within two minutes of leaving the apartment they found a tiny movie theatre that Miguel had never noticed was there, despite walking past the place every time he went to the gym. No films were running until later that night, but it proved that even in the neighbourhood Miguel had been living in for several years there were still new discoveries to be made.

They’d quickly moved on, looking for any other weird, unexpected, cool or fun places they could find.

There was a shop that serviced the, presumably booming, local creepy doll collector market – they had come to the unanimous decision to not even set foot in the place after seeing some of the puppets proudly displayed in the windows – a bakery that had both of them staring longingly at the conchas until Miguel broke down and bought them one each, several little nooks tucked away between buildings or off the beaten path in nearby parks where they could sit and chat and take selfies that Hawk rolled his eyes at, but tolerated with minimal complaints.

Miguel had pointed out a tattoo studio and jokingly asked if that was still Hawk’s idea of a perfect first date. It wasn’t – he’d learned his lesson about premature couple tattoos after Moon – but he did have the thought that maybe he could talk Miguel into getting some non-couple ink at some point. He would definitely suit it.

Hawk was dragged into a tiny gallery to admire the paintings and sculptures of local artists, leading Eli to wonder when the last time Miguel had opened a sketchbook himself was. Eli had been seriously into his friend’s art, especially since it was rare for Miguel to ever share it with anyone, though Hawk sometimes found doodles left in his notebooks after they’d had a study session together, some funny, some badass, one… one that he had actually gone and gotten tattooed on his skin a little over a year ago. Not that his boyfriend had seen it yet.

He was kind of dreading the moment when he did though, because that was a level of embarrassing sentimentality he wasn’t sure he could ever recover from.

Eventually they wound up at a small arcade, the bright, flickering lights and classic retro tunes and beeps luring Eli closer, until Miguel stepped up behind him and said they should go play some games.

Hawk had crushed him at every fighting game they touched, though Miguel had gotten his revenge when they found an air hocky table hidden away in the back, Miguel had cheered him on at DDR even though he couldn’t play himself thanks to his still-healing knee and they used up the last of their coins co-oping Ninja Turtles, neither of them taking the play very seriously, too busy daring each other to silly challenges like only attacking to the left for an entire level, or attempting to volley enemies back and forth between their characters.

It was the most fun Eli had had in years.

He couldn’t help but wonder how much they’d missed out on by not pursuing their feelings for each other earlier. This was already almost everything he’d ever wanted from a relationship – constant looming threat of Hector aside – the idea that they could’ve been doing this the entire time…

Well, dwelling on what-ifs was pointless. What mattered was that they were doing this now and he intended to make it last.

When they finally left the arcade, it was evening and they’d been exploring for almost six hours. Knowing that there was no way they would be getting back to Miguel’s place to cook and eat at a reasonable time, they headed in the vague direction back and agreed to just stop at the first place they saw to grab something for dinner. It ended up being a small food truck selling guajolotas that honestly didn’t look or smell all that amazing, but with how hungry they both were it didn’t really matter.

By the time they’d found a park with an empty bench to sit and eat in, there was only a sliver of orange and red left in the sky and the evening chill was quickly setting in, leaving Miguel shivering lightly.

Naturally, Hawk had immediately teased him for his pathetic cold tolerance, earning himself a smack to the arm when he wouldn’t stop laughing. He made a show out of tugging off his hoodie and throwing it in Miguel’s face so he could put it on and warm up a little, even if it meant sacrificing his own comfort – snickering when his boyfriend pointed out that the hoodie was actually his in the first place so really Hawk should be grateful he hadn’t demand he give it back sooner – but the wobbly, embarrassed smile on Miguel’s face was more than enough to keep him feeling warm and cosy.

He was down to the last few unexciting-but-satisfying bites of his guajolota, staring at the sky where a scattering of the more determined stars were managing to shine through the dim haze of city lights, when he felt a weight leaning into his side. Nothing too overt, it would be easy enough to play off as just two bros who didn’t care about personal space, but the look Miguel turned on him wasn’t nearly as subtle.

“Thanks for this,” he said softly, smile crinkling the corners of his eyes, “I didn’t know how much I needed it.”

Hawk managed a wide grin of his own. “Anytime, it’s always fun hanging with you man.”

Snorting, Miguel finished off his food, tilting his head back to better admire the stars.

Eying his profile intently, Eli quickly glanced around. There was barely anyone else around and it wasn’t like the few people walking their dogs or the couple making out several benches away were actually paying any attention to them anyway.

And it was technically their first date. Even in unusual circumstances, some traditions were too deeply ingrained to ignore. So he leaned further into Miguel’s side, pressing the length of their arms together and when his boyfriend turned to look at him, Eli smiled at him, glancing meaningfully down to his lips, before looking back to Miguel’s eyes. He leaned in a little closer, but left the invitation open, it should be pretty obvious what he wanted, but if his boyfriend didn’t feel comfortable kissing in a public place then he could easily back off without it being too awkward.

He didn’t back off. Miguel only took a few seconds to check their surroundings before closing the distance between them, pulling him into a too-brief kiss that left the lingering taste of chile tingling against Eli’s lips.

Coming back for one last short peck, Miguel leaned away again – though he kept their sides pressed tightly together and sought out his hand, interlinking their fingers.

Eli took the time to enjoy the quiet moment for once, letting go of all the worries he had been lugging around with him for weeks now and instead focused on the feel of Miguel’s hand in his. The rough but warm skin, the way his thumb was idly running across the back of his knuckles, the occasional twitches as Miguel failed to suppress a shudder. After the third shiver Hawk couldn’t stop himself from snickering.

“Dude, are you seriously that cold?”

“Fuck off,” Miguel said with a chuckle, shoving him hard enough that he tipped over on the bench, which only made Hawk laugh even louder. “We should probably start heading out though, we walked quite a long way, I’m not entirely sure how to get back from here.”

Hawk let himself be dragged to his feet, hiding his disappointment when Miguel’s hand slipped free of his to bury itself into the pockets of his hoodie. He wondered if it was because he was cold, or if it was to stop himself from keeping their hands entwined the entire trip back.

Despite that, they walked much closer together than was strictly necessary as they slowly ambled back to Miguel’s place.

And if Eli took every opportunity that presented itself to nudge his boyfriend, or knock their shoulders together, or lean heavily into him to better see the map Miguel had pulled up on his phone… then neither of them felt it necessary to point it out.

---

Chapter Text

---

Hawk scowled as Miguel pointed out the building that came into view as they rounded the corner, stating that was their destination.

“You sure there’s no way to back out of this?” he asked, stopping dead in the middle of the street, the stranger walking behind him muttering something unsavoury under her breath as she had to skirt around Hawk to avoid bumping into him.

Miguel turned back and gave him a searching look. “It’s just lunch,” he said, “nothing’s gonna happen, I promise.”

Eli’s frown deepened. He didn’t believe that for a second.

Not because he didn’t trust Miguel, but because he didn’t trust the man they were meeting in the cosy little restaurant across the street. Hector had called the previous evening to invite them out, or rather, he’d invited his son and Hawk was just being dragged along because he was technically supposed to be keeping an eye on him – though even if he wasn’t, he had no intention of leaving Miguel alone with his father more than absolutely necessary – and Miguel had been weirdly excited about it ever since.

He could swear that this was just a casual meetup all he liked, Hawk was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, because Hector had to have something more up his sleeve.

Miguel started walking again and Eli reluctantly trudged after him, glaring up at the sign hanging above the door, Caleta Lejos Del Mar.^[122] It was a relatively small place, but when they entered the restaurant was almost fully packed, only two tables empty and cheerful voices filling the space. The general vibe in this place was slightly different to anywhere else Eli had experienced in the time he’d been in Mexico, but it wasn’t until he noticed the Ecuadorian flag displayed discreetly behind the bar that it clicked why.

It was a subtle distinction, but there were little touches to the décor that brought back faint memories of the Diaz apartment back in Reseda and the snippets of conversation he was able to pick out held some familiar slang terms and phrases that he’d only heard from Miguel since coming down here.

Glancing at a menu lying on a table as they passed he recognised several dishes that he remembered Miguel’s grandma cooking whenever he visited his friend. He wondered if that was why Miguel had seemed so excited to be coming here, maybe this place reminded him of home.

Still though, the excessive noise and heady mixture of smells in the small space was pretty overwhelming, he could already feel himself shutting down a little as the sound of twelve separate conversations all happening at once blended into each other until it was just a distorted mess with only the odd word clear enough to discern. He’d never liked cafés and restaurants for this exact reason, but running his tongue along the inside of his teeth and jamming his hands into his pockets to hide how he was tapping his thumb and forefingers together helped focus him somewhat – they were his more subtle stims.

He bumped into Miguel’s back when he stopped unexpectedly at the counter, earning a quick glance back and a quiet, “You good?”

Not wanting to pause his stimming, he just nodded, though his boyfriend still looked concerned.

But he didn’t press the issue, turning back to the girl at the counter and saying something that was instantly swallowed up by the noise of everyone else talking around them. Whatever it was, the waitress pointed towards the far side of the dining area and mouthed something back at him. He wasn’t exactly a lip-reader but he maybe caught something that looked like ‘afuera’^[123] somewhere in there.

Miguel nodded and led Hawk through the building, weaving between tables until they reached a door which led to an outdoor patio area, the cooler and quieter air instantly relaxing him as the noise was left behind inside.

“Better?”

He glanced at Miguel and nodded again, though this time he managed an actual smile to go with it that seemed to satisfy him.

Happy that Hawk wasn’t about to have a meltdown in the middle of the restaurant, Miguel started looking around. Once his eyes settled, Eli followed his gaze and, unsurprisingly, Hector was standing at one of the garden tables making conversation with an elderly couple. What was surprising was the plain green apron wrapped around his waist and the fact that he was clearing plates from their table as they chatted.

Miguel didn’t seem worried about interrupting, walking casually over and asking, “Pa, you’re working today?” Then he turned to the couple giving them both the same kind of smile he used to give his yaya. “Señor y señora Aguirre, es un placer verlos.”^[124]

Head snapping around in shock, Hector stared at his son for several seconds before groaning, dragging a hand down his face. “Ahh, Miguel,” he said, looking surprisingly embarrassed, an expression Hawk hadn’t ever seen on him before. “I’m sorry mijo, I completely forgot about lunch.”

“You’re covering for someone?”

“Well you know how it is, Felix’s little one is ill, he shouldn’t have been here so I gave him the rest of the day off.” Hector shrugged, as if the choice was completely out of his hands.

The woman at the table – Mrs Aguirre – laughed, exaggerating the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. “The day off with full pay, you are far too generous.”

“I’m the one who insisted he go home early, only fair I pay him properly, he would not have left if I hadn’t made him.”

“You should’ve called me,” Miguel said, grabbing the plates his father had put down earlier and arranging them to balance in his hands with practised ease, “you know I don’t mind helping out with this kind of thing.”

Chuckling softly, Hector reached out and fondly ruffled Miguel’s hair. “He’s a sweet boy, isn’t he?” he said to the woman, lightly nudging her with his elbow, dark eyes warm as he smiled at his son.

Miguel ducked his head like he was embarrassed, but it wasn’t quick enough to hide the grin spreading across his face, the pure joy in his expression. The same expression he used to wear when Johnny had stopped being an ass long enough to be a genuinely good sensei who actually offered them some praise for once.

Hector had laughed as Miguel, terrified and desperate, repeatedly smashed his fist into the face of a man who’d already lost until his knuckles were bloody and raw.

His touch lingered in Miguel’s hair a few seconds longer, before slowly pulling his hand away with a boyish grin that looked so similar to his son’s that Eli’s breath caught painfully in his throat.

Hector had been ready to pull out a gun, threaten Miguel, threaten Hawk in order to get what he wanted, manipulating the familial bond that had brought Miguel to him in the first place without caring how much it hurt him.

“I don’t know how I ever got so lucky to be blessed with a son like you, mijo.”

Hector had left cigarette burns dotting Miguel’s left shoulder – whether he’d put them there himself or had a crony do it on his behalf didn’t make any fucking difference – scars that made Miguel flinch at even the lightest touch.

But less than one minute of acting like an actual fucking father and Miguel was smiling at the man, his eyes sparkling with happiness like this was everything he’d ever wanted.

If he didn’t know better Eli might’ve believed they had a perfectly normal and healthy father-son relationship seeing this. Maybe this was what Miguel had meant when he spoke about Hector not being a complete asshole most of the time, if this was the man he’d gotten to know upon first arriving here, it wasn’t hard to imagine how Hector might have managed to gain such a tight hold on his son.

It didn’t make Miguel excusing his worst actions any easier to swallow, but it did provide a reason that he could understand for the weird defensiveness he sometimes held towards Hector. He was probably choosing to focus on these moments over everything else the man put him through.

After hefting the dishes from the table, Miguel started walking away, calling goodbye to the elderly couple still sitting there.

Hawk quickly followed after him, along with Hector, who sighed and placed a gentle hand on his son’s shoulder until he came to a halt, waiting until Miguel turned back to look at him before saying, “This was supposed to be a day for you to relax, not work.”

“I enjoy this kind of work,” Miguel said with a shrug and Eli wondered if he had meant to imply that he didn’t enjoy the other kind of work he got from his father.

He wondered if Hector had picked up on that too, whether it was deliberate or not.

If he had, he didn’t show it. “You should still be resting,” the man said, though his mouth twisted a little, like he was tempted to take the offer regardless.

Miguel’s expression hardened instantly. “I’m fine.” Admittedly he had been healing well, all his superficial scrapes and bruises were basically gone and his knee was well on the way to full recovery now. But – as much as Eli hated to agree with him about anything – Hector was right, Miguel should be taking it easy for a little while longer. “You’re understaffed and I’m already here anyway.”

Hector still didn’t look fully convinced, though he seemed to waver slightly when Miguel reminded him he was already down a member of staff.

Jumping on the moment of weakness, Miguel gave his father a soft smile. “I can always help out in the kitchen?”

Snorting, Hector carefully lifted the stack of plates from his son’s hands, grinning widely at him as he started walking again and said, “Not sure I trust you with that mijo, we have bolón de verde on the menu.”

Miguel groaned heavily, trailing after his dad as they made their way to the door that led from the outdoor seating area to what was presumably the kitchen, judging by the waiter who exited shortly before they reached it, plates balanced on his arms.

“I burned them one time.”

Hector laughed loudly at that, nudging Miguel with an elbow. “I’m just teasing, I am sure Mari would appreciate your help.” He stepped through the door Miguel had automatically held open for him, stepped into the kitchen and placed his burden down by the sink, idly wiping his hands on a dishcloth draped over the counter nearby. Turning to the harried-looking woman bent over three separate pans trying to keep everything moving, he called out, “¿Oíste eso Mari? Mi hijo te va a dar una mano.”^[125]

“Gracias a Dios, Miguel date prisa y límpiate y luego podrás encargarte del arroz con camarones.”^[126]

Not wasting a second, Miguel was already washing his hands before she’d even finished speaking. Hector nodded in approval before his gaze fell on Hawk, who immediately tensed up.

“Mohicano, you cook?”

“Only the basics.”

“And not many of the clientele here speak English…” He scratched at his chin in thought for a few seconds before shrugging. “Well, you didn’t exactly sign on for any of this, would you like something to drink? I’m sure I can find you a free table-”

Rolling his eyes, Hawk turned to the already filled sink and grabbed one of the dirty plates Hector had just deposited next to it. “I can help out.”

Hector’s smile widened a little. “I don’t expect you to.”

The fucking- did this asshole seriously think that Hawk was doing this out of some kind of desire to impress him or some shit? As if they weren’t both fully aware of exactly where Hawk fit in Hector’s plans; a pawn to keep Miguel in line and nothing more. Was he thinking that he wanted to try and actually become a part of his gang?

Pointedly glaring in Miguel’s direction, where he was taking one of the pans from the chef with his usual charming grin, Hawk said under his breath, just loudly enough for Hector to hear, “Not doing it for you.”

Hector gave him a look that suggested wheels were turning in his head and he wondered if he’d just made it too obvious just how close the two were.

“Well, I’m glad to see that loyalty to my son,” he said quietly, briefly pressing his hand against Hawk’s shoulder, “he is lucky to have someone so loyal to him.” The man suddenly spun around and clapped his hands together, the sharp sound making Eli flinch. “Muy bien, ¡superemos esta prisa del almuerzo!”^[127]

After that, things got hectic, orders being shouted and the metallic clangs of pots being shuffled around and the clatter of cutlery being dropped next to him at the sink quickly overwhelming him, leaving him in that state where it felt like the entire world was underwater and all his senses were subdued and distant.

Which was better than having a full-on meltdown at least. The mindless task he’d given himself at least gave him the chance to zone out without having to actually engage with anyone, which left his wandering mind free to focus on observing what was happening around him. Especially with Hector.

Despite all the chaos, every time the man stepped back into the kitchen he had the same grin on his face. He was cracking jokes with the two other waiters in-between dropping off dirty dishes and picking up orders to go out, checking in on Miguel every few trips, demanding the main chef take a break when the worst of the rush was over and took her place at the stoves as she did, he even complimented Hawk on his efficiency several times. Seeing Hector like this – charming, friendly, generous, attentive – it was easy to see how he had manged to gain so many friends that it felt like everywhere he went he would bump into at least a few people who knew him.

And he just seemed so genuine about it all, enough that Eli had to keep reminding himself that this was the same man who ran a violent underground fighting ring that left its fighters bloody and broken. That he had dragged his own son into that life, that he was using Hawk as a hostage to manipulate Miguel.

It was a convincing act he had going here, but it had to be an act. Because if this version of Hector was the real one, then how the fuck could that man live with himself after doing any of that other shit?

How could he put Miguel in danger, encourage him to do things that went so far against his morals that he was left nearly catatonic afterwards, and then pat him on the back and ruffle his hair and order him to sit down and take a break from cooking as if he actually fucking cared? Eli refused to believe that anyone could hold two such wildly disparate aspects of themselves together without one side breaking from the effort.

By the time Hector announced that the lunch rush was over, everyone was exhausted and Hawk was frowning at his fingertips, wrinkled from the hot water he’d been holding them in for what felt like hours but was really closer to forty minutes.

Miguel nudged their shoulders together as he walked past, nodding towards the door and Hawk instinctually followed after him.

The late afternoon air was somehow more stifling than the kitchen they’d just left – the extractor fans had probably helped to cool the room down – but he sucked it in regardless, if only to enjoy the lack of overpowering smells and the relative quiet. He trailed after Miguel as they found an empty table and sank into the hard chairs gratefully.

“Dude, that was hell. I am not cut out for catering.”

Snorting, Miguel leaned his head over the back of his seat, closing his eyes. “Sorry for dragging you into this, I know it wasn’t what you were expecting to happen.”

Given that he’d been expecting they would be roped into doing something at the very least legally dubious, if not morally reprehensible, he wasn’t about to complain. While he wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to help cover another shift at one of Hector’s restaurants, it was certainly better than some of the alternatives he could think up.

Before he could express that to Miguel though, the sound of footsteps approaching made Hawk tense up.

“Thank you both for your hard work,” Hector said, voice a little more hoarse than usual, probably from talking over the noise of the busy kitchen all afternoon. “I think you’ve earned these.”

Hawk blinked at the two bottles of beer being held in one hand and a plate with two corviche in the other, but warily took one of the bottles, while Miguel reached for the plate, grabbing one of the delicious-smelling fritters before offering the other to Hawk. Both quickly dug in, beyond starving after not having eaten since breakfast and he had to admit it tasted amazing.

“Thanks Pa.”

“Eres un buen niño.”^[128] Hector laid a gentle hand on his shoulder – the side that didn’t have the burn scars, Eli couldn’t help but notice – and lightly squeezed. “Más de lo que merezco,”^[129] he said with a sigh, expression pulling into something more sombre and his smile looking almost sad when he continued, “te quiero, Hijo.”^[130]

Liar.

Fucking liar.

How could he spew such bullshit without choking on it? Eli could feel his shoulders rising up, the hand still wrapped around the beer bottle tightening until his grip turned white, the urge to just smash the glass into Hector’s face was making his entire body tremble. He could just end it right now, none of his gang were around to get in the way, he and Miguel could be gone from here before the consequences ever caught up to them, it would be easy-

No, he didn’t think like that anymore. He was supposed to be better than this, better than his most violent impulses. He didn’t want to be that person anymore.

But fuck was Hector making it difficult for him.

Letting go of the bottle with so much care that it didn’t even clink as he set it down, Eli shoved both his hands into his pockets, if only to remove the temptation to use them. Besides, one look at Miguel’s face and he knew he wouldn’t have been able to go through with it anyway.

Not when he looked so terrifyingly happy to be hearing those words from his father.

---

The speakers on Miguel’s tv had this horrible tinny quality that was making it really difficult to understand was being said, especially in this quiet scene where the actors were mumbling half their lines. Not for the first time Eli found himself wishing that more directors prioritised clarity over atmosphere; surely you’d want people to actually understand what was going on in your film, right? Or maybe most people could interpret this breathy-whisper shit and he was the outlier.

Though, even under ideal viewing conditions, he doubted he’d be able to pay much attention to what was happening on the screen. Not when Miguel’s head was resting on his shoulder and he’d pulled Hawk’s hand into his lap and was idly entwining their fingers together as if he needed constant contact between them.

Hawk wasn’t about to complain about that though, or about the hair tickling at his neck. He was more than happy to let his boyfriend distract him from a film he was only mildly interested in anyway.

It wasn’t like he even needed to do anything to be a distraction, he could be sitting quietly at the far end of the couch and Eli would still be finding his eyes drawn away from the screen to rove up and down his body. Like they were doing now.

There was not a single part of Miguel he wasn’t fascinated by.

Even lounging around in the same clothes they’d slept in, which were comfortable but not designed to be especially appealing, and with his messy curls sticking up at weird angles where he hadn’t bothered to fix it this morning, he still managed to look effortlessly gorgeous. Hawk wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through that soft hair, hear how it made Miguel hum in pleasure as he used it to pull him deeper into a kiss.

Biting his lip at the mental image his brain was all too eager to provide for him, Eli’s eyes wandered further down, tracing the soft lines of Miguel’s face, the tempting, sensitive neck on display. The thick arms he wanted wrapped around him.

He’d always had a bit of a thing for arms – not quite as much as he had a thing for hair but it was pretty close – and Miguel definitely had a pair worth admiring, his strong, firm muscle not at all hidden by the tight t-shirt hugging his body. It wasn’t fair how he was able to actually put on some bulk while Hawk could do as much strength training as he liked, he only ever got the thin, wiry kind of muscle. But, as low-key jealous as he was, the temptation to just explore and worship every inch of those arms was monumental.

Ok, so he was a little shallow. Miguel was his boyfriend now, he was allowed to think he was hot.

“Wow this fight choreography sucks ass, this guy’s had, like, five separate openings now that no one’s gone for.”

Blinking several times, Hawk reluctantly dragged his gaze away from Miguel’s beautiful, perfect, solid arms up towards his face instead. “Huh?”

When he finally reached his eyes, Miguel was already giving him a knowing smirk. “Dude, are you even paying attention?” he asked, one brow raised.

Well, no point in pretending now.

“Not to the film,” he said, hoping his own grin came across as cocky rather than love-struck. Even if he very much was, he wanted to at least try and maintain a little dignity around Miguel.

“Yeah?” He shifted around to better face Hawk, tongue darting tantalisingly across his lower lip in a movement that Hawk couldn’t stop his greedy eyes from following. “Something else on your mind?”

He didn’t trust himself to speak, but hoped that the way he leaned in closer in response got the message across. Miguel’s smirk widened, but he pointedly stayed exactly where he was as Hawk leaned in, making him whine desperately.

“You know you’re allowed to kiss me if you want to,” Miguel said, basically calling him out on the fact that, while Hawk often initiated their flirtation, he always waited for his boyfriend to escalate to kissing. The only time he’d kissed Miguel first was the night they first got together and that had only been because it had been an extreme, emotional situation and he’d never had the best impulse control when he was overwhelmed like that.

He still hadn’t quite figured out why he’d been so reluctant to make that first move ever since – he certainly didn’t have any hesitations once they actually got going – but Miguel deserved some kind of explanation, so he gave the best one he had to hand. “I just like giving you the choice.”

“I think you know by now that I’m never gonna say no to this.”

Not bothering to wait for a response, Miguel surged forwards, capturing Eli’s lips with his own and eagerly tangling a hand in Hawk’s hair, which he had left unstyled for once. He probably enjoyed taking advantage of it since he didn’t often get the chance to play with it in the same way Eli was always messing with Miguel’s. And the way his boyfriend was using it to pull him in and keep him close…

If it was going to feel this good every time, maybe he could be convinced to leave it down more often.

He moaned into the kiss, letting Miguel gradually pull him down, collapsing onto the couch until Eli was basically laying on top of him.

Whatever was happening on screen completely forgotten, Hawk focused every part of his attention on Miguel. On the fingers digging through his hair, practically massaging him, on the broad chest that pressed against his own with each heavy inhale, on the tongue grazing the seam of his lips teasingly. Groaning, he gave in to Miguel’s demands and parted his lips, using one hand to hold himself up and pressing the other into Miguel’s side, feeling his intense body heat through thin fabric.

He could barely remember to breathe, too caught up in claiming everything Miguel was offering him, but the lightheaded feeling eventually forced him to retreat, if only for a few seconds to desperately pant and get some oxygen in his lungs.

The sight of his boyfriend smiling up at him, panting lightly himself and eyes hazy with desire was more than he could handle.

Hawk growled, leaning down to catch Miguel’s lower lip between his. “Fuck, you’re hot,” he mumbled against his lips, grinning at the light puffs of air grazing along his cheek as Miguel chuckled, before wandering further. He playfully licked at the corner of his mouth, then pressed a messy kiss to Miguel’s jaw before pulling back immediately, face scrunched up.

Miguel laughed at his expression, though he looked maybe a little self-conscious when he lightly scratched at the place Eli had just kissed. “You know I can shave if it bothers you that much,” he said, already sitting up like he was ready to go do it right this second.

“No, leave it,” he quickly interrupted, pressing on Miguel’s shoulder to guide him back down, “it looks good on you.”

And it did. Part of him was a little curious how he would look clean-shaven as well, but he’d never want someone to feel they had to change their appearance for his sake. Eli knew exactly how much those kinds of insecurities sucked.

He instead let his kiss land a little lower down, where he could safely brush his lips across the skin of Miguel’s neck without having to worry about the sharp prickle of facial hair. The shaky exhale Miguel let out was music to his ears, so he continued further, sucking lightly before licking at the faint red marks left behind, memorising every little gasp and shudder he received for his efforts.

This felt too good, being able to bring this much pleasure, to take care of Miguel like he’d never been able to before and hearing in his unapologetic moans how much his efforts were appreciated…

He wanted more. To hear more, see more, feel more, taste more.

At some point the kissing down Miguel’s neck turned into something else, Hawk letting his tongue dart out to taste the salt on his skin and, fuck, he just wanted to bite-

Miguel let out a sharp gasp.

He froze. A nasty memory flashed across his mind, a gruesome image staining the blackness behind his closed eyes.

Eli pulled away like he’d been burned, even though it wasn’t him he was suddenly worried about. He searched his boyfriend’s face intently for anything that shouldn’t be there, but only saw the same lightly dazed expression he’d had when Eli first started kissing down his neck.

The sudden lack of lips against him must’ve broken through his stupor however, because Miguel quickly blinked the glaze from his eyes and sent a questioning look up at him. “Hawk?”

“Sorry, I just…” He didn’t want to speak his thought out loud, didn’t want to ruin this moment between them by reminding Miguel of something unpleasant. But at the same time he couldn’t just ignore it, not knowing if he might accidentally step on a landmine if he wasn’t careful.

So instead of saying it, Eli simply ran his hand down his boyfriend’s arm, until he could press his thumb into the set of faint indentations there – barely visible now unless the light caught them just right, but he could feel the slight dips in Miguel’s skin – circling the old wound before finally risking a glance back up at Miguel’s face.

The expression on his face was more subdued than he’d been expecting, eyebrows slightly pinched and mouth set in a hard line.

Sighing, Miguel watched as Eli continued to carefully trace the marks on his forearm. “The difference between a playful bite and a bite meant to cause damage is… pretty stark,” he said quietly, voice tight like he was needing to force the words out of his throat.

Miguel shouldn’t even know what that difference felt like. This shouldn’t be a concern they even had to worry about in the first place.

But if he got too caught up in those kinds of thoughts, he was just going to get angry at everything his friend had had taken away from him, so he forced them to the back of his mind, instead focusing on Miguel as he continued speaking softly, “And it’s never been an issue before.”

“You’re sure?” he asked, because if there was one thing he didn’t want it was for Miguel to be pushing himself beyond his limits, making himself uncomfortable just for his sake.

“I’m sure.”

There was a familiar fire in his dark eyes and that alone was enough to convince him that Miguel believed what he was saying. But… the mind could be a weird thing sometimes, Eli knew that better than anyone. Sometimes something you had thought was safe turns around one day and burns you, sometimes you don’t realise that you’ve been stretching yourself further than you could take until you snapped.

And Miguel had shown that he could react violently to perceived attacks, even if it wasn’t intentional. He’d proved it when they first reunited and he accidentally cracked Hawk’s rib and, however careful he had been to stop it from happening since, the ways he occasionally shifted into a fighting stance when he was caught off-guard hadn’t escaped Eli’s notice.

Miguel must’ve sensed his hesitancy, because he was suddenly grabbing the neck of Hawk’s shirt and tugging him down, almost glaring at him, though there was more frustration than genuine anger in his expression. “Look, I’m not saying you have to do it if you’re not into it,” he said, loosening his grip and falling back more into the cushions, “but I am into that kind of thing, so you don’t need to hold back just because you’re afraid of- of triggering me. Like I said, I’ve never had a bad reaction to it before, I know what my limits are, this isn’t one of them.”

Frowning as his brain filled in the gap of who he’d likely learned those limits with – he could do without that aggravating mental image – Eli pulled his hand away from Miguel’s arm to carefully run his thumb along the faint bruise he had left on his neck before he’d freaked himself out.

Miguel leaned further into the touch, humming and closing his eyes as Eli brushed over a particularly sensitive spot.

He could feel the pulse rushing beneath his thumb and Miguel was nodding eagerly, hand digging back into his hair to pull Hawk closer, until his lips reached the pulse point on the other side of his neck.

He still couldn’t bring himself to truly bite down – didn’t ever want to have to see any more of those kinds of marks on Miguel’s skin, even if he knew he would never leave any lasting scars – but he did scrape his teeth along the junction where his neck met his jaw.

It seemed to be enough for Miguel, who moaned and tugged lightly at his hair in response.

Relaxing as the only responses he got from his boyfriend were overwhelmingly positive, he allowed himself to be a little bolder and suck lightly at his skin. He alternated between soft, open-mouthed kisses, long, indulgent licks up the entire length of his neck, only occasionally letting his teeth get involved with careful nips, but it was enough that when Miguel spoke again, the frustration in his voice had been entirely replaced by desire.

“Feels good,” he mumbled, leaning his head further back to give Eli more access. “Se que estoy seguro contigo.”^[131]

Eli grinned widely against Miguel’s skin, needing to take a few seconds to school his expression into something less dopey when he pulled back to get a better look at Miguel’s face. “Damn, that’s sappy,” he said with a snicker.

“Ok, if you’re just gonna make fun of me, then I’m putting that mouth to better use.”

Allowing himself to be guided back up to Miguel’s lips, Hawk happily yielded to his demands.

^[xxx] They’d made out a few times, but never quite like this, never so desperate and wanting. But he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t enjoying every delighted little sound his boyfriend was letting out, or the warm hands sliding under his shirt to caress his back and stomach.

Both of them were breathing heavily now, gasping, panting breaths in-between needy kisses and it hadn’t escaped Hawk’s notice that he was getting maybe a little too excited. He could keep Miguel from noticing by making sure the lower halves of their bodies stayed a respectable distance apart, but it was getting really difficult to restrain himself when the slightest movement drew all his attention to the deep, aching want he was trying to ignore.

And his efforts were completely wasted when a particularly deep kiss paired with warm fingers just barely skimming under the waist of his sweatpants broke his concentration and he dropped heavily onto Miguel for a brief moment before managing to push himself back up.

Fuck, did he notice? It was barely even two seconds, surely-

Miguel’s grip on his hip tightened, tugging him down at the same time as he rolled his own hips up. They both groaned at the contact and Hawk’s body jerked at the unexpected spike of pleasure rippling up his spine, which inadvertently pressed them together again, leading to the wonderful realisation that he wasn’t the only one getting hard from this.

He glanced up to Miguel’s face, biting his lip at the satisfied little grin he found there. Miguel knew exactly what he was doing, which meant Eli didn’t feel so bad when he gave in to the desires screaming at him to take more and adjusted their positions. Grabbing behind the knee of Miguel’s uninjured leg he pulled it up, trapping it between the back of the couch and his hip, giving himself more room to grind against his boyfriend in that way that had them both moaning.

Even through several layers of fabric, he could feel how eager Miguel was and he was under no illusions about being in just as bad a state, not when he could feel the throbbing ache that was only briefly relieved when Miguel rocked up towards him again.

It was both terrifying and exhilarating to be doing this, chasing after more of those delicious sensations as he rolled his hips down, the pressure of Miguel’s clothed hardness against his making his head spin. He couldn’t help but imagine more, what it might feel like if there was even less space between them, less clothes in the way. But it seemed like Miguel was quite happy to keep doing what they were already doing, what with the way his leg wrapped behind Hawk’s thigh to hold him close and his hands dug through his hair to drag him back up to his mouth.

The kiss was uncoordinated and messy and the seam of his sweatpants was digging against him in a way that perfectly aligned to a particularly sensitive spot, leaving him gasping and moaning. It was almost too much, too overstimulating, yet even that wasn’t enough to make him stop grinding against Miguel seeking even more.

A quick glance confirmed that his boyfriend was just as lost in pleasure, his eyes glazed and even the teeth biting at his lower lip couldn’t hide his smile.

Noticing Eli’s mesmerised stare, Miguel’s grin widened and he released one hand from Hawk’s hair, trailing it down his back to rest at his hip, holding him in place as he rolled-

“Fuck,” Hawk choked out, arms shaking as it felt like every muscle in his body tensed then released, before tensing again.

“Like that?”

Even if he could answer coherently, he was pretty sure that his reactions were answer enough.

Miguel must have thought so too, because he didn’t wait for one before rolling his hips up again, pressing the entire length of their shafts together in a long, firm thrust that had him dropping his head against Miguel’s shoulder as his muscles threatened to give out on him again. His eyes drifted closed as his entire focus narrowed down to the intense heat and pressure of Miguel’s body against him, around him, still trying to draw him impossibly closer as if they hadn’t already eliminated any space left between them.

Not content to let his boyfriend do most of the work, Hawk pressed him down into the couch, grinding hard against him and swallowing Miguel’s whine before moving away from his mouth to lick and carefully bite at his neck instead.

He was quickly learning that Miguel wasn’t one to hold back his pleasure; he was extremely vocal and utterly shameless with how loudly he moaned.

Luckily the neighbours were usually out at work at this time of day, or else they might be getting some complaints.

Though he wasn’t sure that would be enough to stop them at this point, too lost in each other to care about the outside world as they wrapped tighter together. The circumstances were less than ideal – the couch was too small and they were both wearing too many damn clothes – but they also couldn’t possibly get any better, because it was Miguel here with him, thrusting against him, whispering in his ear, “Fuck, Hawk, I’m so close, I’m so close.”

Hawk bit his lip harshly to hold back his own climax at hearing that, grinding down a little harder and nipping gently at Miguel’s neck.

That earned him a long, low moan and blunt fingernails scraping down his back. He groaned himself, pressing even closer to his boyfriend, rocking faster and faster against him, lightly scraping his teeth against his hot, delicious skin. Miguel gasped, his leg curling tighter around Eli’s hips and pulling him closer at the same time as he began jerking more intensely against him. “I-I’m, nearly, ahh~”

The sounds spilling from his mouth went straight to the heavy, throbbing desire rising in Eli’s stomach and it was obvious that neither of them was going to last much longer.

Leaving one hand pressed into the couch to keep him steady, Hawk moved the other to Miguel’s hip, encouraging him to thrust up into him as he rolled his own hips down. They both shuddered and Miguel let out a particularly sharp cry, already moving against him again in increasingly uncoordinated little jerks.

He was nearly there, just a little more to push him over the edge. He wanted to see Miguel fall apart.

Sliding the hand on his hip up, Eli snuck it underneath Miguel’s t-shirt, exploring the burning hot skin hidden underneath, chuckling slightly as he could feel the muscles of his stomach twitching as he got closer and closer to coming.

Miguel moaned even louder, the hands at Eli’s back clenching, almost threatening to rip the material of his top with how tight they were gripping it.

Biting his lip, Eli ground down even harder, fingers pressing into Miguel’s waist at the same time as he leaned down again to kiss desperately up his neck, alternating between sucking and nipping and licking until he felt the full-body tremor and heard the broken gasp that signalled his climax. He immediately leaned back just enough that he could greedily admire his lover; sweat sticking a few curls to his forehead, eyes shut tight as another shiver racked through him, smile still curling at his mouth even as he was panting heavily to regain his breath.

How the fuck had he ever gotten so lucky that he got to share any of this?

It was almost enough to make him forget that he still hadn’t quite reached that point himself, but before he could even think of finishing himself off he felt a hand abandon its position clawing down his back, instead sneaking around to rub against the bulge in Hawk’s sweatpants.

The grinding had been good, but this was better. Miguel’s grip moulded to him perfectly, reaching those places that had been left out until now and he was exploring him in a way that had him seeing stars. He whined into Miguel’s neck, too overwhelmed to continue sucking and biting as he had been when Miguel set a brutal pace, obviously sensing that he was close to the edge anyway.

“Miguel,” he moaned, barely able to breathe but still begging for more, “fuck, that feels so good, you’re amazing-”

The hand palming him through his pants tightened against him, cutting off any hope of Hawk being able to continue piecing together a coherent sentence. So he didn’t bother trying, instead letting himself openly groan, mumbling his boyfriend’s name into his skin as he finally tipped over the cliff Miguel had been so eagerly driving him up.

Shaking and panting as the pulses of pleasure spread throughout his body, he rode out his orgasm while still jerking uncontrollably into Miguel’s hand, overstimulation drawing more embarrassing noises out of him before he finally collapsed on top of him.

Reluctantly opening his eyes – vision taking a few seconds and several blinks to clear up – Eli lifted his head to look at Miguel’s face. It was the most relaxed he’d seen him in literal years. He almost thought he might be about to drift off entirely before his dark eyes flickered open to meet his gaze.

“That was nice,” he said, voice pleasantly rough and Eli couldn’t help snorting in response at the, in his opinion, insufficient description.

“Just nice?”

Miguel gave a considering hum and rewrapped his arms around his back, before correcting himself, “Very nice.”

That was still the understatement of the century as far as Eli was concerned, but he was more willing to forgive it when Miguel leaned up to kiss him again, slow, soft and sensual now that the tension between them had been thoroughly broken.

He wasn’t quite sure how long it took for them to both come back to reality, too busy basking in how incredible it felt to have Miguel’s arms wrapped around him, fingers tracing meaningless patterns into his back as their kiss came to a natural end and they just lay together, breathing gradually evening out.

What didn’t feel so incredible was when he shifted his hips.

He couldn’t help the little groan of disgust escaping him as he squirmed in place, trying to find any position that wasn’t drawing his attention to the unpleasant wet patch in his pants.

Miguel chuckled, though he had a similar grimace plastered across his face. “Yeah, that went from hot to gross real fucking quick,” he said, gracelessly shuffling out from underneath Hawk to sit up a little straighter, “I’m, uh, gonna go clean up, want me to grab you something to change into?”

“Please.” He coughed, sitting back to let his boyfriend escape and hunching over awkwardly to hide the state he’d been left in, not that it really mattered when Miguel wasn’t any better off, trying to ignore the heat burning in his cheeks. Looking for anything to distract himself from his own embarrassment, Eli stared blankly at the tv screen, only to realise that he recognised only two of the five characters in the scene currently playing and he couldn’t even remember their names, or what their main goals were.

By the time Miguel threw a pair of clean pants at his face, he had managed to calm down somewhat, until he actually looked up at him and saw the way his curly hair was still beautifully dishevelled and the faint red marks decorating his neck.

His blush came back full-force in an instant.

Glancing at the screen Miguel laughed. “Man, I have no idea what’s going on, think we should restart the film from the beginning?”

Hawk hadn’t been able to concentrate on it the first time round, he couldn’t imagine he’d be any better off now.

Especially not if Miguel was going to practically collapse next him on the couch and lean heavily into his side, idly kissing his jaw. Shuddering at the touch, Hawk leapt to his feet, holding the change of clothes Miguel had provided for him conspicuously in front of himself. “Actually I think I might take a shower-” a cold one “-you start without me.”

---

The cool evening air was just beginning to bite against Eli’s skin even through the thin jacket he’d thrown on before venturing outside.

He probably could’ve borrowed something warmer from Miguel, but he’d grown pretty used to the weather here and was actually kind of enjoying the slightly chilly breeze. It was kind of wild to think about, but he’d been down here for almost two full months now, arriving in the city in the last week of June when they were well into August now.

And in that time, he’d been reunited with a long-lost friend, ditched the friends he’d come to Mexico with, reluctantly gotten involved in a gang and somehow managed to get his first ever boyfriend.

It was at once both an insane amount to happen in a relatively short time, while also still feeling like he’d only seen Miguel again for the first time a week ago.

He couldn’t help but wonder what would happen in just a few days’ time, when the Miyagi-Fang group had originally planned to go back home after their extended vacation. The odds that he’d be able to convince Miguel to run away with him in that short a time were… slim, but what about the others? Undoubtedly they were worried about him, but were they going to stick to their original schedule and go back home, or would they extend their stay to try and track him down?

Honestly, he kind of hoped they would just go back home, though he shuddered to think what his parent’s reaction would be if they went back without him. He was already trying not to think too hard about how they were coping right now; he remembered how rough things had been for Carmen and Rosa when Miguel left.

And remembering those two women and the massive secret he was keeping from them only made him feel worse.

Those kinds of thoughts were much easier to push to the back of his mind when he had Miguel around to distract him, but walking the quiet streets alone, there was no one to keep them from swarming him now.

He’d offered to go out and grab something for them to eat tonight, to save Miguel the trouble of cooking for once and save them both from another adequate but underwhelming Hawk Special. Although he had been improving since he started helping Miguel out in the kitchen trying to learn from him, he fancied something nicer tonight, and he’d told his boyfriend he knew the exact tamale stall to go to.

It was a bit more of a trip than he’d remembered, but he was only a block away now and it was absolutely gonna be worth the trip. He could practically already taste them as he turned the cor-

Holy shit.

Almost tripping over in his haste to retreat back around the corner, he pressed himself against the wall, feeling the sharp edges of the bricks jabbing into him through his jacket but not moving an inch, barely even breathing as he listened intently for the inevitable shouts.

Only when thirty seconds had passed with nothing to disturb the normal street noise around him did he dare to peek around the corner of the building.

Yep, he definitely hadn’t been seeing things, there was Chris, Sam and Robby, standing on the other side of the street. Thankfully they hadn’t spotted him, but he quickly ducked his head back regardless just to be safe. He was absolutely fucked.

There wasn’t any point in wondering what they were even doing in this part of town. No doubt they were attempting to track him down. What was worrying was how close they’d gotten, whether they knew it or not, his friends were only a block away from the hostel where Hawk had been staying up until recently and about a twenty-minute walk from Miguel’s apartment. If they kept it up they’d probably have their search area narrowed down to a single street in just a few days.

He risked another glance across the road, eyes landing on Chris just in time to catch him pressing his hands together like he was praying and holding them above his own head, miming a mohawk to a passing stranger.

Hawk rolled his eyes, while simultaneously cursing himself for having such a distinctive look.

Before he could get too offended by their chosen method of tracking him down – however accurate it might be – he had to pull back again when Robby’s head turned a little too close in his direction.

Fuck, he was such a colossal asshole.

They were just worried about him, and why wouldn’t they be? From their perspective he’d been getting progressively more moody and miserable since this trip had begun, then he’d started ditching them in the evenings, evading all their attempts to talk to him about it, or try and follow him, then he’d disappeared completely, blocked all their numbers and was only keeping in touch via regular late-night messages which basically boiled down to ‘not dead yet’ – and he’d been slacking off on those as well lately, only unblocking Demetri’s number every two or three nights instead of every single night like he had when he first ran off.

Of course they were out looking for him. He’d studied psychology, even he could see this whole situation was built entirely out of red flags.

Sighing and tipping his head back against the wall, ignoring the feeling of the back spikes of his hair getting crushed out of shape, he considered his options.

Maybe he should go over to them, finally admit what he’d been doing all this time. His main excuse to avoid doing so until now was starting to feel really flimsy. Miguel had accepted Hawk’s help now. He wasn’t pushing him away anymore and – though he’d been opposed to the idea of telling the others the last time Eli had made the suggestion – he’d mellowed out in the last few weeks, so maybe he wouldn’t try to push the others away either and with the whole group working together perhaps they could figure out a plan to get out of the whole Hector situation.

But, then again, Miguel hadn’t exactly made the suggestion himself either, despite knowing that Hawk was still somewhat in contact with them. In fact, he’d barely mentioned them at all, outside of occasional reminiscing about old times.

There was still a strong possibility that he wouldn’t be willing to get anyone but Hawk involved.

It’d taken so long to get to this point with Miguel, if he just brought the old gang over to his apartment unannounced it definitely wouldn’t go down well.

The excuse left a bad taste in his mouth, despite not even saying it aloud.

He suspected that the truth was he was just trying to make up for past fuck-ups. After all, the last time Miguel had been in a bad situation, recovering from an almost-fatal injury, relearning how to walk, Hawk had reacted… poorly.

After watching Miguel thrown from that balcony, he’d gone pretty much feral, turning his fear and pain into rage and aiming it squarely at Miyagi Do. Because what the fuck else was he supposed to do?

His best friend was hurt and he wasn’t a doctor, he wasn’t a miracle worker, he was just a kid who couldn’t do anything to actually help him.

But he knew how to use his fists.

The fact that the one who was really responsible for his friend’s pain was out of reach didn’t matter; he knew how to make someone hurt – had plenty of experience from being on the other side – and if he couldn’t make Miguel feel better, he could at least make sure that everyone affiliated with the one who’d put him in that place would think twice before ever going near him again.

Because he was useless and weak, but he could at least do that much.

And he’d been so caught up in his desperate, impotent rage, that he’d never really stopped to think about if that was something Miguel had even wanted. When he found out that it hadn’t been, it’d snapped something inside of him, because what was it all for if not for him?

Of course eventually they’d managed to work things out between them, and he’d done his best to fix things between himself and everyone else he had hurt along the way in the years since.

But he had felt the guilt for letting Miguel down ever since, and he hadn’t ever really made up for it.

Now that Miguel was once again in a rough spot, he wanted to do things right this time. Listen to what he actually wanted from Hawk, not just make assumptions and end up messing things up even worse. And, thus far, he had reacted extremely negatively to the idea of getting any of their friends involved in anything going on with his dad every time it’d been brought up. Maybe he could be convinced if Eli found the right angle, but…

Until then, he would have to avoid being seen by his friends, because if they caught sight of him then they absolutely wouldn’t let him get away without a fight and he knew escaping them was going to be an absolute pain.

Sighing, he tilted his head just enough to glance back around the corner, freezing when he couldn’t see his friends over there anymore.

“What are we even doing Sam?”

He snapped his head back with enough force he felt a burst of pain when the back of his skull smacked against hard brick.

Chris’ voice was drifting over to him, suddenly far too close for comfort, though it thankfully stayed at a consistent volume when he continued so hopefully they weren’t coming any closer, “This city is huge, assuming that Eli even stayed here and didn’t leave for somewhere else, what’re the odds we’re ever going to find him?”

“I’m not losing someone else, not like-” Sam cut herself off with a hiss, but it was obvious whose name she was avoiding. “Never again. We’re here and it’s not been that long, we have to try and find him now, or we lose our best chance.”

He should move, run away before they got any closer and spotted him.

But his back remained glued to the rough wall, and with how shaky his entire body was feeling, he suspected that it was the only thing keeping him upright at the moment.

“We know he’s still alive, he’s been messaging Demetri regularly,” Robby said, slightly quieter, so he was probably further away than Chris had been. That or perhaps the group was walking away from him and not towards him.

“That doesn’t mean he’s ok, who knows what kind of mess he’s gotten himself mixed up in, you know how Eli can be.” Damn, Sam really didn’t have any faith in him at all, did she?

The fact that she was kind of right was beside the point.

What was he even still doing here? Listening to this was only making the guilty weight in his stomach grow heavier and heavier, a feeling which only got worse when Robby spoke up again, “It’s my fault. I… me and Tory spoke with him the day he left and I kind of encouraged him to be more reckless in whatever he was doing.”

The pit in his stomach had become so dense it might as well be a black hole, threatening to crush his entire body with its gravity.

“You what?”

“It wasn’t like I was expecting him to pack his things and leave,” Robby snapped, though there wasn’t much force behind it, “and we all know he had to do something, you saw how depressed he was getting.” There was a hard edge to his voice that he usually got when he was feeling guilty but didn’t want to admit to it. He wasn’t going to back down, but he also wasn’t trying to escalate the argument either.

Sam, however, sounded like she was on the warpath. “So instead of telling him to calm down, you told him to go fucking wild?”

“What else should I have done? Another intervention? Because he reacted so well the first time-”

He hadn’t even been around them for several weeks, but Eli was still somehow managing to create rifts in their friend group, and now Robby was the one taking the heat for it, all because Hawk was too much of a damn coward to risk scaring Miguel off by getting them involved.

“Guys, just stop it,” Chris said, ever the voice of reason and de-escalation, “how about we save the arguments for after we find Eli?”

There was a heavy, drawn-out sigh that lasted several seconds, before Sam spoke again, voice at least a little calmer than it had been moments ago, “Right, you’re right, we need to focus-” Hawk heard a sharp clap and could picture her confident, upright stance returning even without looking “-ok, let’s regroup with the others, see if they had any more luck than us.”

With the mumbled agreements of the two guys with her, all three of their voices started to gradually fade as they walked away, at which point the strength in Eli’s legs finally gave out and he slid down the wall, breathing heavily like he’d just run a marathon.

He ignored the weird looks being thrown at him by the small handful of pedestrians wandering the streets and instead focused on trying to force his lungs to calm the fuck down.

Only after several minutes did he eventually manage to drag himself back to his feet and carry on towards the tamale stall that had been his original reason for leaving Miguel’s apartment in the first place. He didn’t see any more of his friends on the way there, but he felt their presence weighing him down the entire way back into Miguel’s arms regardless.

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Chapter Text

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“Why does it feel like you’re more out of shape than I am, despite me only just getting back into training?”

Eli didn’t bother to give a verbal response, just flipped his boyfriend off as he dragged himself up the last of the too-steep stairs leading to Miguel’s apartment. His legs were aching and he didn’t care to hide it as he tried to stretch some life back into them while Miguel hunted for his keys.

Seven weeks after the initial injury, Miguel had finally been given the all clear to go without the knee brace by the doctor, albeit under strict orders to take it easy for at least two more weeks.

Naturally, Miguel had decided to celebrate by dragging Hawk to his gym and begging his coach – an older man introduced only as Ossi, whose gruff face didn’t at all match his short stature and gentle voice – to let him start training again. Only after several assurances from Miguel that he’d take things slow and stop the second he felt any kind of pain did the man relent and let him onto the mats to warm up.

Hawk joined him, partly because it had been too damn long since him and Miguel trained and he was desperate to reclaim that aspect of their relationship, but mostly because he remembered what Miguel was like and wanted to be ready to stop him from pushing himself just because he was excited to be back in action.

It turned out he didn’t need to worry. True to his word he was very careful and didn’t try to get involved in the sparring between his MMA buddies who also attended this gym, even if he was gazing longingly at their practice matches.

Miguel had introduced him to the others as an old friend from back home and one of the best fighters he’d ever known. A claim which absolutely didn’t leave him blushing a brighter red than his hair, no matter what Miguel claimed later when they’d split from the main group to find a quieter corner for themselves.

The other fighters at least seemed pretty accepting of his presence – though he and Miguel were both still careful not to tip anyone off to the full extent of their relationship – and after finding out Hawk had only ever trained in karate they all became pretty determined to teach him some wrestling. He’d caved only when Miguel had turned his big, brown, puppy-dog eyes on him and offered to go through some groundwork together. They had to be careful to avoid anything that would strain his newly-healed leg, but Hawk would happily admit there were worse ways to spend a few hours than rolling on the ground tangled up with his incredibly attractive boyfriend.

Honestly the most difficult part had keeping himself in check, because it would’ve been so easy to take advantage of some of those holds.

Though it also would’ve been a whole lot easier if Miguel wasn’t still as go-hard-or-go-home about training as he’d always been.

He’d never tapped out so many times in his life.

By the time Ossi was chasing everyone out of his gym, they were both out of breath and Hawk’s muscles were aching harder than they had in weeks; but he couldn’t deny the rush he felt from being able to train with Miguel again after all this time.

And he was already starting to feel some life returning to his limbs when Miguel called out to him.

“So, you planning to stay out here all evening, or are you coming in?” he asked, leaning against the door to hold it open.

Stretching his arms up above his head and sighing at the satisfying click in his spine, Hawk smiled and squeezed past him, unintentionally breathing in the scent of coconut shampoo clinging to Miguel’s sweat-damp hair and the sharp hint of lime and spice from their hasty dinner grabbed from a street vendor on their way back. The combination of smells was intoxicating, and after hours of being so close to Miguel but unable to act on the urges that had been needling at him all day, he was feeling more than a little pent up.

So of course Hawk barely gave Miguel time to lock the door behind them before he was pushing his boyfriend up against it, slowly leaning forwards before stopping and hovering an inch away from his mouth, asking silent permission.

Rolling his eyes, Miguel decided to close the distance for him.

It was perhaps a little silly that he’d developed this habit of not kissing first until his boyfriend had made it clear that he was ok with it – he’d never refused so far – but there was something special about making Miguel come to him. Perhaps it was knowing that he was wanted, just as much as he’d been wanting, that this wasn’t pity, or guilt, or anything else. It was genuine desire.

Miguel’s feelings were pretty obvious in the eagerness with which he pressed against him, one hand slipping behind his neck to keep him close, the other wrapping around his waist.

He grinned into the kiss, parting his lips in an invitation that Miguel immediately took advantage of.

Again he got that dash of lime, more obvious now that he could taste it on Miguel’s tongue. It wasn’t surprising considering his tendency to basically drown his food in citrus given the opportunity. Eli didn’t understand why he liked it so much – he’d never been the biggest fan of sour flavours himself – but in this more muted state he could perhaps see the appeal.

Or maybe that was just because his boyfriend was softly moaning into him as they pressed even closer together.

Miguel’s fingers started massaging where his neck met his shoulders in a way that Eli hadn’t even realised he’d been needing, a knot there slowly releasing as he dug his own hands into soft, black curls and lightly tugged, angling his head to deepen their kiss.

He’d always known he had a thing for hair, but he was especially fond of how thick Miguel’s was, and how easy it was to tangle his fingers in it and guide him wherever he wanted.

Luckily Miguel was just as into it, though he’d several times expressed annoyance at how he couldn’t mess with Hawk’s hair the same way without him throwing a hissy fit. One day he was going to make Miguel sit there and watch as he went through the entire process of crafting the hawk start to finish so he could appreciate why he was so protective over it, but for now, he let his boyfriend flick one of the spikes at the back with only a slight grumble and a gentle warning bite to his lower lip when Miguel started laughing at his reaction.

He pulled back, dragging Miguel’s lip with him a little before releasing it, trying to catch his breath, though he lost it again the second he saw Miguel’s face.

His eyes had always been dark, but between the naturally deep colour, the not great lighting in Miguel’s apartment and his obvious arousal they might as well be entirely pupil. Like the ocean at night; black and enticing and unknowable and potentially dangerous, but at the same time drawing him in with the promise of something he couldn’t even imagine.

Eli’s groan must’ve rumbled against Miguel’s skin as he kissed desperately down his neck.

Despite sleeping in the same bed for over three weeks now, they hadn’t gone very far beyond some very enjoyable make out sessions and a little over-the-clothes action. But Eli knew what he wanted and, if that look on Miguel’s face was anything to go by, he wasn’t the only one.

Miguel tugged on his hair, though not enough to hurt, drawing him reluctantly away from his neck. Turning that desperate look on him again, his boyfriend asked, “Do you wanna-”

“Yes,” he said, a little too eagerly if the chuckle Miguel let out was anything to go by. Fighting down his embarrassment, he surged forwards, pressing Miguel harder against the door, trying desperately to mould their bodies together, memorise how every curve fitted against him. There was no way either of them could deny how excited they were, not when he rocked his hips forwards and they both groaned in unison.

Suddenly, Eli was the one being driven back, gently, but inexorably towards the bedroom.

He whined a little when he was pushed onto the mattress, the loss of contact and heat leaving him feeling like he’d been dunked in ice, though Miguel’s weight settling on top of him quickly brought it back.

Still too far away though. He reached up to wrap hands behind his boyfriend’s neck and correct that, demandingly tugging him back into kissing range.

The pleasantly crushing weight and warm lips pressing against his own was really doing a number on him. He didn’t get it, Miguel complained about being cold all the time but everywhere they were making contact felt like it was on fire, as if he was clinging to a damn furnace. And he never wanted to let go, would happily let himself burn up into ashes before ever giving any of this up.

When those burning hot hands worked their way under his shirt to skim up his chest, he couldn’t withhold his groan, fingers tangling in Miguel’s hair as he tried to pull him even closer.

Miguel gasped, giving Hawk the perfect opportunity to deepen their kiss, tongue darting out to brush against his in fleeting motions that he knew from experience would leave his boyfriend unfulfilled and desperate for more. He grinned when he felt Miguel growl his name against his lips, but he wasn’t quite ready to give him what he wanted straight away, not when he’d spent so many years denying himself this for apparently no fucking reason.

Before Miguel could distract him, Eli used his grip on his hair to pull him back, angling his head back enough that he had ample room to devour his neck with ravenous lips.

This had to be a weak point for Miguel for him to be shaking so much at the onslaught. Hawk hummed against his skin, mouthing at his Adam’s apple before trailing further down, sucking light bruises into his neck along the way, intent on finding out exactly which areas got the best reaction.

Just as he was tugging the neck of Miguel’s shirt down to gain access to more skin, his boyfriend decided to pull back, laughing softly when Eli tried to chase him, but refusing to stop. Sitting back – ass resting against the tent in his pants in a way that just had to be deliberate – Miguel quickly pulled his t-shirt off, then started tugging demandingly at Hawk’s. “Quítatelo,”^[132] he whined, not letting up on his pout until Hawk had rolled his eyes and sat up enough to peel the fabric away.

He was grateful to have a little relief from the stifling heat anyway, even if it didn’t come with the added benefit of Miguel immediately dropping back on top of him and latching his tongue and teeth against Eli’s collarbone before he’d even managed to get his arms free.

As much as he wanted to continue exploring Miguel’s skin for more of those sensitive areas that made him moan, he supposed it was only fair that Miguel get a chance to do the same for him. And he couldn’t deny how amazing it felt to have those callused hands firmly dragging down his sides, or soft lips caressing his neck, then further down, where he seemed to take specific interest in his left pec.

“This is new,” Miguel mumbled against his skin, pulling back a little to get a better look at the lotus flower covering half his chest, “what happened to the grim reaper?”

He coughed, fighting back the blush he could feel brewing. “Just… outgrew it, wanted a fresh start.”

“I like it, suits you way better,” Miguel said, kissing the flower lightly. “You got some others too.” He brushed over the lines of binary code tattooed on the inside of his left wrist which translated to ‘brothers’ – convincing Demetri to get a matching one had been the hardest-won battle of his entire life, but well worth the effort – before his dark eyes were drawn to Eli’s right hip.

Oh. Fuck. He’d almost forgotten about that one.

Miguel’s fingers were idly tracing the image of a stylised hawk, this one at rest unlike the one soaring on his back, its talons gripping a cracked snake skull, flowers growing up through and around it.

It was based on an idle sketch Miguel himself had left in the back of one of Eli’s notebooks during a long, boring study session.

And a sketch was all it was supposed to be. Miguel was already gone from his life by that point and he’d learned from Moon how stupid an idea it was to get something permanent on his body that reminded him so intensely of someone he’d loved and lost.

Sure, he’d considered it, even got a frame for the original sketch and had a more tattoo-ready version drawn up by Stevie – his new artist, he had never been able to go back to Rico’s, not after what had happened there – but he’d refused to let her actually get the gun out, despite all her pleas that it would look sick as hell.

In the end, all it had taken was a drunken bender after his most recent breakup when he was feeling particularly lonely and desperately missing Miguel to break down the last of his resolve. Alcohol and a persuasive artist with little-to-no impulse control was a potent combination.

And he had to admit, the results were amazing, even if his heart ached a little every time he saw it.

Except… now he had lips pressing against that ink and maybe it didn't have to represent a lost friend anymore. The meaning could change to represent something new instead. That wouldn’t be so bad.

It didn’t seem like Miguel even recognised it, as he didn’t make any comment and quickly moved on to exploring the other tattoos decorating Hawk’s skin, trailing kisses behind him as he went. Maybe one day he would admit its origin to him, and maybe even see if he would be willing to donate any other sketches to this canvas, but right now…

^[xxx] Right now his boyfriend had apparently gotten bored with his ink, instead latching his mouth to Eli’s nipple, lathing his tongue across it roughly and leaving electricity in its wake.

Miguel laughed at the noise he made. “All good?” he asked, sounding entirely too smug as he licked again, free hand coming up to play with the other.

He tried to respond, but couldn’t manage much more than a heavy groan as pleasure sparked through him again. Presumably the message got across regardless, because Miguel didn’t let up for a second, even getting his teeth involved to lightly nip and tug.

Deciding that it definitely wasn’t fair that he was the only one being tortured like this, he tangled his fingers in soft, dark curls and pulled Miguel’s face back up to his to capture those absolutely sinful lips of his in a kiss. Thrusting his tongue into his boyfriend’s mouth to lick sensually along his teeth, he used the distraction to slide his free hand along Miguel’s chest, pinching the first hard nub he found.

Disappointingly, he only received a mild hum in return, then a soft chuckle as their kiss was broken. “Sorry, just not very sensitive there,” Miguel said, looking vaguely apologetic, though still amused at the same time.

He’d probably guessed what kind of reaction Eli had been hoping for.

“Boring-” Hawk ignored the eyes rolled at him, before grinning and tugging a little harder at Miguel’s hair, revelling in the gasp and fluttered eyelashes “-so, where are you sensitive?”

“I’m not giving that away for free; if you wanna find out you can work for it,” Miguel said, voice dropping into a register that felt dark and seductive and caramel-thick. He was pretty sure he shuddered at the sound of it, but couldn’t care less at this moment, all he wanted was to hear more of it.

Groaning, Hawk took the advice to heart, carefully stroking through dark hair to soothe any pain from where he’d been gripping it – though he made a mental note that Miguel had definitely not objected to the rougher treatment either – before letting that hand join the other already scoping out broad shoulders and a firm chest for more weak points to exploit.

Miguel returned the favour, trailing kisses along Eli’s jaw, pausing occasionally to suck lightly stinging love bites into his skin, hands returning to torment his nipples some more.

Fighting to keep his focus against the waves of pleasure rolling through him, he stroked up and down his boyfriend’s back, when a particularly sharp bite against his neck combined with a hard pinch broke him completely. Moaning long and loud, Eli’s eyes shut tight and his head tipped back as he instinctively sought for something to grasp, short nails clawing across Miguel’s upper back.

With a shaky chuckle, the body hovering on top of him dropped – though Miguel caught himself before he could crush Eli – which would have been pleasant enough, even if it hadn’t brought their hips close enough that every tiny shift and shudder made them brush together. Even through several layers of fabric, the pressure was delicious. He moaned and tried to buck up for more, but only got brief moment of contact before Miguel was suddenly just out of reach. The second attempt went much the same, leading Eli to finally open his eyes and look up into his boyfriend’s face.

From the shit-eating grin plastered there, he was willing to bet the torture was entirely deliberate.

“What’s wrong, bebé? You kinda look like you want something?”

Ok. He was done with Miguel’s teasing.

Firmly grabbing hold of his boyfriend’s hips, Eli threw their combined weight to the side so Miguel was on his back and he was straddling him. Judging by his wide grin and how loud he moaned when Eli rolled his hips down, Miguel had no complaints about the new position.

Dragging his hands slowly down his body – carefully skirting around the various scars dotted all across his skin – Eli paused when his fingers reached the fabric covering the thing he was both excited and terrified to lay bare. He was nervous as hell about this. He’d been wanting it, wanting Miguel, for so long and now he was lying under him, looking up at him with those brown, adoring eyes…

If he somehow screwed this up he was never going to forgive himself.

Hands trembling lightly, he stroked the skin just above the hem of Miguel’s shorts, before popping the button on them open and starting to carefully slide them down his thighs, constantly switching his gaze from what he was doing to his boyfriend’s face to catch his reactions.

A gentle touch against his cheek drew his attention away from what his hands were doing. “Hey, you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good, just-” Eli sighed, scowling as his eyes flickered off to the side rather than meeting Miguel’s “-this is new.”

“We’ve messed around before.”

His brows furrowed a little deeper and he glared down at Miguel to show him how inadequate their previous experiences were in preparing him for taking this next step. “Not like this.” Nothing this intense and exciting and unfamiliar.

Miguel was staring at him intently, voice somewhere between understanding and teasing when he asked, “It’s not your first time, right?”

“First time with… this equipment.”

Laughing much louder than Hawk felt was necessary, Miguel dropped his head back against the pillow. “Dude, you’ve got one too, just call a cock a cock.”

Instantly heat was pooling in Eli’s cheeks, and across his nose, and – while he wasn’t about to go and confirm his suspicions – he wouldn’t be surprised if the blush reached his ears and neck too.

Why was he getting so embarrassed about this? Sure he hadn’t exactly been the smoothest person in the world in his previous encounters either and he’d definitely been blushing just as much during his first time with Moon, but whether it was because of the newness of this particular experience, nerves about finally crossing a line he’d been dreaming of charging over for years, or just Miguel’s bluntness about the whole thing, he was feeling more embarrassed than he had in a long, long time.

“What, so you were totally relaxed the first time you did it with another guy?” he snapped, harsher than he’d intended.

But before he could start feeling too guilty about that, Miguel was sitting up, gentle fingers pressing under Eli’s jaw until he relented and looked up at his boyfriend’s grinning face.

“Oh no, I was a fucking mess so I totally get it, but I promise you it’s honestly not that big of a deal once you get used to it,” he said, leaning forwards and stealing a quick, chaste kiss. “You know we can stop at any point, and if there’s anything you don’t wanna do then we just won’t do it.”

“I know, but I really want to do this with you.” Fuck did he want it, and knowing that Miguel did too…

Pushing all his nerves and timidity as far down as he could, he channelled some of his old Hawk confidence, shoved Miguel back down – snickering at the undignified yelp he let out in response – and returned his hands to the hem of Miguel’s shorts, which were still bunched up around his hips, before pulling them off in as fluid a motion as he could manage.

Then, before they could start trembling again, he snuck his fingers under the waist of his boyfriend’s boxers and yanked them down too.

Huh, uncut, that was different.

It was a stupid detail to focus on, but it did stop him from combusting on the spot so he was going to keep focusing on that and not the amused look Miguel was shooting him. “You doing ok down there, bebé?”

“Mhmm.”

“You sure? Should probably take a breath before you pass out.”

Right. Breathing. That would help.

“I hope you weren’t so desperate to get me out of my clothes so that you could just stare all nigh- ahhh~”

Eli was quickly learning that Miguel’s many interesting noises were his absolute favourite thing in the world. Especially if they interrupted him being his usual smart-ass self. He grinned at the low moan and experimented with a quick jerk of his hand, having to bite his lip as Miguel gasped and bucked his hips a little.

“Sorry, what was that you were saying?” he asked, thankful to his boyfriend for starting their little game of verbal sparring because – even if he was still low-key terrified – he knew how this particular kind of back-and-forth worked, they’d done plenty of it in their years training together.

He didn’t get an intelligible response. Probably because he chose the moment Miguel opened his mouth to squeeze a little tighter and slowly drag his fingers down, mildly fascinated by the way Miguel’s foreskin slid down his cock so easily, pulling another groan out of him instead of whatever comeback he’d been planning.

Ok, this wasn’t so scary, he was honestly in a better position here than he had been with any of the girls he’d slept with. He knew how this worked and what felt good, all he had to do was replicate it.

And Miguel was apparently very responsive, so he was pretty confident he’d be able to tell when he was on the right tracks.

Starting off, he tried to do the same kinds of things he’d do to himself when masturbating, same long, steady strokes, same tight grip. But, while it certainly wasn’t going unappreciated, he suspected he could get more of a reaction out of him, so he quickly dropped the familiar in favour of experimenting, mentally cataloguing Miguel’s reactions as he took the time to explore a little.

He would let out a low, pleased hum when Eli jerked him tightly, but if he let up on the pressure and kept his touches fairly light it would leave him whimpering and thrusting desperately. If he paid attention to the head for more than ten seconds at a time then Miguel would actually try to escape from his fingers – perhaps he was over-sensitive there – but he could press roughly into the point right at the base of his cock for as long as he liked and have him begging for more. And alternating between long, leisurely strokes and short, sharp jerks really got him squirming.

When long arms reached up to wrap around his neck and drag him down for a kiss, he didn’t resist, letting Miguel moan into his mouth and bite at his lower lip before he kissed along his jaw, stubble grazing against Hawk’s cheek as he nibbled gently at his earlobe.

“This isn’t very fair you know,” Miguel said, his honeyed voice pouring directly into Eli’s ear as his hands slid down his back, fingers curling around one of the beltloops on his pants in a silent demand.

He grinned into Miguel’s neck, teeth grazing against one of the hickeys already forming there. “Yeah? You gonna do something about that?” he asked, brushing his thumb across the leaking tip of his boyfriend’s cock and having to bite his lip to contain his own moan when he felt the body under him shiver.

Muttering some choice curses under his breath, Miguel didn’t hesitate to slither his hands from Hawk’s back to his front, fingers pressing very deliberately against his erection as they tauntingly worked at the buttons keeping it contained. Eli groaned heavily at the sensation; pleasurable, definitely, but not enough, fabric deadening the touch, blocking how warm he knew Miguel’s skin would be against him.

Hips bucking into the hands still teasing him, he chased more of that feeling, begging in actions if not words and he wasn’t sure if Miguel was taking pity on him or if he was just equally as desperate to get things moving, but he didn’t even wait to fully push Hawk’s pants down before sneaking a hand into his underwear and curling those long, warm, rough fingers firmly around him.

Whatever noise he made was probably embarrassing as all hell, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when every one of his senses had shrunk down to one tiny point and the immense pleasure he could gain from it.

Miguel was whispering something in his ear, but he couldn’t even hear it over his own jackhammer heartbeat as he rolled into Miguel’s touch, arms shaking as he tried to hold himself up.

Still not enough.

He desperately sought out Miguel’s lips, delving in to cover up his own moans every time fingers stroked so carefully up his shaft, squeezed at every pressure point he hadn’t known he had, and fuck he’d never realised how greedy he was because he still needed more.

Sitting up a little and removing his own hands from Miguel – fighting against the urge to immediately give in when his boyfriend whined in protest – he shoved the last of his clothes off, not caring where anything landed as he threw them to the side before diving back in, hungrily claiming soft lips and letting their naked bodies finally slide against each other with no barriers. He wasn’t sure if he swallowed Miguel’s moan, or if Miguel swallowed his, but he didn’t care, only cared about feeling more of this heat, this perfect, solid body that fit against him so well.

Reluctantly breaking their kiss, Eli lifted his upper body and shifted just enough to press their hips tightly together, already gasping at the way their cocks were brushing against each other, even before he brought a shaking hand around to wrap around them both, jerking them together.

They both groaned at the touch, but Miguel’s hand was quickly at Eli’s wrist, pulling it away and oh shit, had he somehow fucked up already, he’d barely-

Miguel leaned up to kiss him, all soft lips and tender tongue. “Protection, just a sec.”

His boyfriend placed a hand firmly against his chest and pushed him back, before rolling over onto his front to reach for the drawer in the bedside table. Eli’s brain short-circuited a little at the view Miguel had – probably unintentionally – put on display and before he knew what he was doing, he’d moved to practically lay on top of him, pressing hungry kisses against the back of his neck, quickly moving down to his shoulders, then trailing along his upper back.

“Alguien esta excitado.”^[133]

Hawk chuckled; he wasn’t about to deny it. He was barely able to keep it together, the only things on his mind the hot skin burning against his hands as they tightly gripped at Miguel’s waist and the tiny shudders he felt beneath his lips and tongue as they traced the curve of his spine.

Judging from the uncoordinated clatters from where Miguel’s hands were digging around in the drawer, he wasn’t making things any easier for his boyfriend, but he really didn’t care, too busy making the most of his position.

Licking up a bead of sweat and humming at the salty taste, Eli continued his journey downwards, mouthing each vertebrae he came across, using his hands to press Miguel harder into the mattress to keep him from squirming. From how heavy his breathing was getting; he was enjoying this as much as Eli himself. He grinned at the thought as he shifted further down again, dragging his tongue along the dip of Miguel’s lower back, teasing at his hot, smooth, delicious skin-

Then his lips touched skin of a different texture. He stopped dead, lingered, though he felt he should pull back, suddenly hit with a mix of emotions he wasn’t remotely prepared to deal with while this horny.

“Hawk?”

The questioning voice was enough to prompt him to move, fighting against some spectral weight as he dragged his lips away from rough skin. Miguel had a lot of scars on his body, this one though, the perfect, surgical line running parallel to his spine…

It somehow felt a lot more personal to Eli.

As if pulled by a magnet, he found his hand drawn to the blemish – faded after all these years, but still visible – and, fingers trembling, traced along it carefully.

There was a low noise of understanding from his boyfriend.

“It’s ok,” Miguel said softly, twisting underneath him so that he could wrap a hand behind Eli’s neck and pull him back up his body.

He hovered a breath away from making contact, before closing the gap between them, mouth quite deliberately aimed for Eli’s upper lip.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, then Miguel was pulling away again just the tiniest bit, enough that when he whispered, their lips still brushed together. “See, it’s fine, right?”

He leaned forward again, gently kissing Eli’s greatest insecurity until his entire body was racked by shivers; that simple, chaste caress somehow infinitely more intimate than anything else they’d done so far.

“Does it- does it ever still hurt?” Eli asked, carefully letting his fingers brush along the fine scar on his boyfriend’s back.

They hadn’t really spoken about it since their reunion. Hadn’t spoken much about the injury at all, even before Miguel had run away from home. He’d seemed to want to put as much of that time behind him as he could possibly manage and Eli hadn’t known how to bring it up without coming across as insensitive, or unintentionally sounding like he was doubting Miguel’s ability. But the fact was, the last time Eli had seen Miguel before Mexico, he was crying in pain, convulsing on the tournament mats.

It hadn’t been a pleasant last image to have of him.

Sighing, Miguel shrugged. “Yeah, but not right now. I know my own limits, if I feel things heading that way I’ll tell you.”

“But what if-”

“Trust me, if my back starts playing up you’re gonna know about it,” Miguel said with a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Probably trying to lighten the mood.

Unable to keep looking at the vaguely upset expression he’d managed to put on Miguel’s face, Eli leaned forwards until he could bury his forehead in his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Sorry, I’ve made things weird now,” he said, hating how his voice cracked.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I can make things weirder.”

He blinked at the unexpected words, then pulled back to stare into Miguel’s dark eyes, which were already sparkling with mischief. “…How exactly would that help?”

“If we’re already in the awkward pit might as well grab a shovel and start digging, right?” He grinned widely, waggling his eyebrows in a way that Hawk was not going to admit was kind of cute in that stupid, dorky way of his.

He couldn’t help laughing. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“You know you love it.” Miguel stole a quick kiss from him before sliding his lips to Hawk’s ear, teeth nibbling at his lobe and a warm tongue darting out to trace the shell of it, making Eli flinch slightly. “And since it’s not like it’s gonna make things any more awkward than they already are…” Miguel’s breath tickled against his skin as he whispered hotly, “Te quiero dentro de mi.”^[134]

Eli choked on nothing as he was instantly bombarded with the kind of mental image that had on more than one occasion had him lying awake at night in a terrible horny-guilty shame spiral.

“Fuck, you can’t just say shit like that Miguel,” he whined, slapping his hand over his eyes so he didn’t have to look at his boyfriend’s decidedly unapologetic grin. Blacking out his vision did nothing to stop the fantasies his brain was providing him however. If anything it only made them even more vivid.

“Hey open communication is vital in any relationship, and I’m just openly communicating that I’d quite like your dick in my-”

Miguel really was trying to kill him.

“Stop, before you give me an aneurism,” Eli said, glaring as best he could in the face of Miguel’s seductive grin as he finally managed to drag his hand away from his face.

Though his glare did soften to a more sincere smile when Miguel caught his hand before it could drop to the mattress.

“You’re allowed to say no, I really meant what I said about not doing anything you don’t want to.”

“Oh I want to-” holy fuck did he really want to “-but I, uh, don’t really know exactly how- I mean I know how, but the actual process of it, like preparation and stuff-”

Miguel laughed, not unkindly, and kissed him again, deeper this time. “Relax, I got that bit.”

He reached back over to the drawer, where he’d apparently been keeping lube and condoms, and seemed to be debating something internally for a moment before shoving Hawk out of the way so he could once again lay on his back. Dropping the condom to the side for the moment, Miguel was popping the cap off the bottle of lube when he glanced at Hawk out of the corner of his eye, wicked grin on his face as he asked, “Come over here and keep me company?”

And how could he possibly reject an invitation like that?

Settling himself comfortably between Miguel’s legs, he let himself be tugged down to hover over him, lips meeting in a brief kiss before his boyfriend distracted himself with his task.

He could feel his cheeks burning as Miguel’s hand snaked between them – very deliberately pressing into Eli’s sensitive skin along the way – their eyes remaining locked as he started his preparations. A frown of concentration passed across his face, followed by a slight flinch, before he seemed to settle into it. Hawk could feel the slight rhythmic twitches of Miguel’s arm where it was trapped between them.

Every tiny little flicker of expression was fascinating. The focus in his pinched brows, the slight fluttering of his eyelids, the faint gasps falling from his lips, the darkness of his eyes drawing Eli in deeper, leaning forwards to steal the next gasp that escaped him.

Miguel moaned and kissed him back, though with his attention split he couldn’t return it quite as forcefully as he normally would.

Not that Eli minded, it was nice just being able to be so close to him, touch him in ways he’d only ever dreamed of, have this much trust placed in him and be able to trust him in return. But there was also a burning curiosity in the back of his mind that he couldn’t shake.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Miguel mumbled when Eli started shifting further down his body, trailing kisses across his neck and chest as he went.

He immediately halted his movement, looking back up into Miguel’s eyes and biting his lip as he thought of how to answer that. It was kind of embarrassing, but then, a lot of this had been embarrassing and his boyfriend didn’t seem to give a shit about that. “I wanna watch, that ok with you?” he asked, keeping his voice light and playful to match the blunt way Miguel spoke about his own desires, though he was prepared to stop if Miguel said no.

Snorting, Miguel let his head drop back onto the pillow. “Sure, but you better be taking notes down there so you can do this bit next time.”

“Already planning a next time, huh?”

“Mhmm, maybe even a time after that if you play your cards right.”

Hawk grinned and continued his journey down, nipping lightly at warm, delicious skin on the way. By the time he’d reached his destination Miguel had pushed two fingers inside of himself and was thrusting them in and out at a smooth, steady pace. It probably shouldn’t be so fascinating, watching his boyfriend finger himself, but for some reason he just wanted to soak in the image of him pleasuring himself. This must be something he’d done before, because he seemed to know the exact angle to thrust at to make himself gasp.

Sliding even further down, Hawk pulled one of Miguel’s legs over his shoulder and turned his head enough to gently bite at his inner thigh. The resulting groan and full-body shudder was more than enough encouragement to do it again, following up with a soft kiss to the same spot.

“You like that?” he asked, nipping again a little harder, though not enough to leave more than a slightly red mark. Miguel had promised that he didn’t have any issues with playful biting, that he in fact quite enjoyed it and Eli believed him, but just the thought of adding to the collection of teeth-mark indentations on Miguel’s body – no matter how temporary any marks Eli left would be – still made him feel sick.

Moaning loud enough that Hawk hoped the neighbours weren’t around to hear the noises he greedily wanted to keep all for himself, Miguel began to press a third finger at his entrance. “Me gusta mucho,”^[135] he said with a shaky laugh.

He grinned into his boyfriend’s skin and carefully scraped his teeth across his thigh again, all while intently watching Miguel splay his fingers apart to stretch himself further.

Hawk groaned at the sight.

“Please tell me you’re nearly ready,” he practically begged, feeling ridiculous for being jealous of Miguel’s fingers when he so desperately wanted to take their place.

“You’re so impatient,” Miguel said with a snort, making a show of pushing deeper inside himself until he hit a point that made him whimper, Hawk’s grip on his leg tightening in response as he imagined himself being the one to draw those kinds of noises out of him. “Just a minute or two more.”

That sounded like absolute torture. There was already an ache in Hawk’s cock that was threatening to cross over from distracting to painful if something wasn’t done about it soon, but he could at least palm himself lightly to relieve some of that pressure while admiring how insanely hot his boyfriend looked pleasuring himself, even if he was desperate for more, more, more.

But he held himself back, because he at least knew enough to not rush the preparation. This wasn’t gonna feel any good if Miguel wasn’t enjoying himself just as much as Hawk was.

And – as his boyfriend had requested – he was taking note of the kind of movements he was making, because Miguel was right; there were going to be many more times than this and he wanted to be able to properly take care of his partner in the future.

“Ok,” Miguel said, distinct whine to his voice as he stretched his fingers apart one last time before pulling them out, shuddering as he was left empty, “condoms. Hurry up.”

Hawk snickered, nipping the thigh still pressed against his face once last time before reluctantly pulling away. “Now who’s impatient?” he asked as he grabbed the package that had previously been tossed to the side, raising his brow when he saw there was a second square of plastic hidden underneath the first. “Do we both need protection?”

“I mean, I’ve always tried to be careful, but I haven’t been tested recently so I don’t know for sure if I’m one-hundred percent clean,” Miguel said, shrugging lightly, “besides, we gotta sleep in this bed later and I’d rather not have a mess to clean up. We only changed these sheets yesterday.”

He supposed that was fair enough, so he didn’t waste time with any more questions, already tearing open one pack and groaning as he rolled the condom down his length. Miguel was reaching out to grab the other one when Eli smacked his hand away so that he could put it on him himself, drinking in the slight hum his boyfriend let out in response.

Finally there was nothing else to keep them from crossing that line, no excuses to delay for a second longer.

Eli almost felt at war with himself, his desire running up against the brick wall of his own insecurity and fear as he settled more comfortably between Miguel’s legs. He pressed his hands firmly into Miguel’s thighs, squeezing the firm muscle there as a distraction. “Ready?” he asked, voice soft when he wished to sound confident, eyes flickering up to meet Miguel’s uncertainly, still not quite believing that any of this was happening.

It was amazing how Miguel could reassure him with just a simple, honest smile. “More than ready, you?”

He couldn’t give a verbal answer, not without embarrassing himself with the intensity of how much he wanted this, so he just nodded, carefully covering every inch of his cock in a liberal coating of lube before lining himself up so that the tip of his dick was just pressing against Miguel’s entrance. He could feel his own arms shaking, one holding his upper body up against the bed, the other wrapping around his boyfriend’s hips to raise him into a better position and he knew his breathing was a total mess, but he pushed all of his own nerves from his mind, focusing only on Miguel’s smile as he slowly pushed into him.

Barely an inch in and he already wanted to sob in pure pleasure, but he kept moving, slowly and steadily pressing closer.

Until Miguel’s breath hitched and a wince briefly passed over his face.

Eli immediately moved to pull back, apologies on the tip of his tongue, before powerful legs wrapped around his hips, holding him in place. “You’re not going anywhere,” Miguel said, voice light and relaxed, even as his expression remained a little strained.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” He was fighting to stay absolutely still despite the demands of his aching cock begging him to just thrust deeper already.

Rolling his eyes, Miguel tugged sharply on the first of the spikes on Hawk’s head. “Dude, we hurt each other more than this during training today,” he said, not releasing his grip, instead using it to tilt Hawk’s head back further so he was forced to meet his dark-eyed gaze, “and maybe I like a little pain.”

Hawk had basically not stopped blushing since their shirts had come off, but he definitely felt the heat in his cheeks burn a little hotter at that admission, even if he’d kind of picked up that that might be the case already.

“Seriously though, you trust me, right?”

Eli didn’t hesitate for a second. “Always.”

And he really did. No matter what happened between them, he would always trust Miguel.

Miguel’s expression softened from a cheeky grin to a more gentle, honest smile. Pulling him into a brief kiss, Miguel said against his lips, “Then trust that I’ll stop you if I need to.”

Right, it wasn’t like Miguel had ever had a problem standing up to Hawk before, he was one of the few people who had never been afraid of him, even at the height of his bully era. Granted he didn’t have any reason to fear him, even back then he was pretty sure he never would’ve been able to bring himself to truly hurt Miguel. A fact which he must’ve been aware of, Hawk hadn’t exactly been subtle about how soft he was for him, even in the brief period when they were on opposite sides…

Which was probably why Miguel trusted him so much in return, now that he thought about it.

Letting out a huff of laughter as the tension escaped his body, Eli kissed him again before pressing their foreheads together. “I trust you completely.”

“Lindo.”^[136] Miguel didn’t give him any warning, just clenched the thighs still tightly pressed against Eli’s hips and pulled him in closer.

He practically wheezed at the sensation, the compression against his sides only compounding the incredible grip enveloping his cock. Both his hands flew up to dig into the sheets, face falling forwards onto Miguel’s broad shoulder. “Fuck, Miguel.”

“Now that sounds like a good idea, why is nobody doing that right now?”

Laughing loudly, he pushed his upper body up so that he could properly glare at his boyfriend’s smug face. “You’re such an ass.”

“What, clearly you need some motivation to actua- ahh!”

The sharp gasp as Hawk snapped his hips forwards was extremely gratifying, as was the way Miguel’s eyes fluttered shut when he began to slowly pull out. Seeing the reactions he could get out of his boyfriend was almost more pleasurable than the tight warmth surrounding his cock and the strong arms and legs dragging him closer.

Leaning down to bite at Miguel’s lower lip, he chuckled shakily as he thrust in again to cover up his own moan – though his boyfriend didn’t bother to try and hide his.

“You wanna drop the sass?” Hawk asked, once he was sure his voice would come out somewhat stable.

“Why would I? It finally got you to do what I’ve been wanting,” Miguel said with a grin.

Despite his words though, Miguel did stop making his cheeky remarks, if only because he was probably finding it difficult to catch enough breath to actually speak between his gasps and moans. Hawk deliberately kept his pace slow and steady, partly to get back at Miguel for all the teasing he’d subjected him to earlier, but also because he didn’t want this to be over too soon and he knew that he wouldn’t last too long in Miguel’s ridiculously tight ass if he went at it as hard as he wanted to.

For all that he’d fantasised about this, he never could have imagined how amazing it would actually be.

He never would have imagined that Miguel would rock his hips into each of his thrusts, pulling him deeper than he ever thought possible, or that his fingers would massage gentle circles into his back, or that he would smile so much, grinning up at him with an expression so soft and eyes so warm and dark that Eli had to wonder if maybe Miguel’s feelings for him ran as deep as Eli’s did for Miguel.

The thought was at once elating and terrifying. He was barely able to let himself think the word, even if he knew he was already too far gone to deny it.

But he wasn’t ready to say it out loud. Not yet at least.

And the thoughts of just how far gone he was were quickly shoved from his mind when Miguel’s legs wrapped around him to pull him closer once again, signalling that he was getting impatient with Eli’s slow pace.

Snorting, he pressed a gentle kiss to his boyfriend’s neck, before letting his teeth scrape carefully across his skin at the same time as he experimented with a more forceful thrust. The choked whimper Miguel let out was all the encouragement he needed to repeat the action, hoping to hear it again.

What he got was even better.

“Ahhh!” Miguel’s fingers dug into his back, nails biting just slightly into his skin. “Right there, please munashka.”

Eli halted for only a second – that wasn’t a word he was familiar with, but given that they shared two of the three languages they spoke at least a little of he had to assume it was Kichwa – but he followed the order, repeating the motion again.

It took several thrusts to figure out the exact angle that was driving Miguel crazy, a few more to settle into a rhythm that ensured he was hitting that angle consistently, but the effort was more than worth it when he had Miguel shuddering beneath him and panting heavily into his neck. He wasn’t doing much better himself; he could feel the building pressure that meant he was close and wasn’t able to hold back his moans anymore.

Miguel just felt so fucking good, limbs wrapped tightly around him, furnace of a body practically burning Eli’s skin, but he couldn’t even think about letting go. The feverish heat was only enhancing the dreamlike state he felt being here, doing this.

His arms were barely able to hold himself up they were shaking so badly. When he felt Miguel’s hands pressing against his chest he thought that maybe he’d sensed that and was trying to help stabilise him, right up until he felt fingers brush teasingly across his nipples, at which point he realised he was in fact doing the complete opposite.

He moaned heavily when Miguel tugged at one, attempting to glare down into his grinning face but probably looking too much of a mess for it to have any affect.

It certainly didn’t stop his boyfriend from pinching harder and leaning up to lick a hard line from Eli’s collar to his jaw, the wet trail left behind immediately cooling in the air making him shiver even harder. He cursed loudly, knowing he was nearly done, Miguel’s simultaneous attacks on several sensitive areas pushing him to the brink. All it took was one last, hard thrust and Miguel whining directly in his ear to tip him over the edge, hips jerking uncontrollably as he came, head dropping to his lover’s shoulder as he hoarsely whispered into his sweat-slick skin, “Miguel, Miguel, Mig-”

Eli dropped down heavily onto him, body turned to mush as the waves of pleasure kept rolling over him and through him and he panted desperately to catch his breath.

Chuckling quietly, his boyfriend’s hands tilted Eli’s head so it was facing him, before pressing a quick kiss to his forehead, then another. Then he started placing gentle pecks to his cheeks, his nose, every part of Eli’s face that was in reach.

This was beyond perfect.

Except… He shifted a little and- yep, there was something hard still pressing into his stomach. Sighing, he reluctantly pulled himself away from the gentle onslaught of Miguel’s lips, giving him a quick kiss when he protested the movement, before shuffling further down his body. Glancing up, he caught a brief glimpse of those beautiful brown eyes before they fluttered shut, Miguel biting his lip in anticipation as he’d likely figured out Hawk’s intentions.

And, as tempting as it was to tease him a little more, keep him on the edge without letting him tip over it, he decided to be merciful.

Besides, the quicker he was with this the less time he’d have to freak out about exactly what it was he was doing.

Not giving himself a chance to second-guess, he leaned forwards and ran his tongue from the base of Miguel’s cock to the tip in one smooth motion. The response was immediate; a shaky whimper that had Hawk grinning as he repeated the action, before throwing all caution to the wind and wrapping his lips around the head of Miguel’s dick.

He released a loud gasp, which turned into a keening moan the further down Hawk took him, focusing on his breathing as he experimented with rubbing his tongue against the underside of his cock, which-

“Fuuuck~”

Ok, yeah, Miguel definitely liked that.

He pushed himself down as far as he could manage without choking, not all the way, but he wrapped his fingers around the parts that he couldn’t quite reach, rubbing his thumb into that point at the base of his cock he’d found earlier that really set him off. Predictably, he was rewarded with another loud moan, which only got louder when he got his tongue involved again. The taste of the condom was regrettable and he couldn’t help wondering how Miguel would taste and feel without it, but right now his main priority was making sure the amazing, gorgeous, perfect man he still couldn’t quite believe was letting him do this got as much pleasure as Eli could possibly give.

At some point he’d closed his eyes to focus, but at a particularly high-pitched whine, he couldn’t resist opening them and looking up to see the state his boyfriend was in.

Fuck, he looked wrecked. His mouth was hanging open to let out his constant moans and whimpers, eyes half-lidded and clearly fighting to stay open – fluttering shut as Hawk’s tongue found another sensitive spot – chest heaving, stomach twitching, one of his hands buried in his own hair, tugging in a way that Hawk was definitely taking note of, the other clutching at the sheets so hard his knuckles were turning white. He groaned at the sight, which made Miguel’s entire body shudder in response.

He had to be close now, just a little more to push him over the edge, just-

Following whatever instinct had managed to guide him to this point, Hawk squeezed a little tighter around the base of Miguel’s cock, sucked harder against him and slid his free hand underneath his boyfriend, fingers blindly seeking out- there. Still slick with lube, he traced carefully around his entrance before slowly pushing in, intently watching Miguel’s face for any signs of discomfort.

When he saw only desire, he thrust another finger inside and tried to remember where that sweet-spot had been. Forwards a little, not that deep, curling inward-

He knew the second he found what he was looking for, not only because he could actually kind of feel the slight difference against his fingertips, but also because Miguel practically sobbed when he brushed against it. Confident it wasn’t going to take much more, he pressed firmly into that spot, not letting up the pressure for a second as he bobbed his head again, licking up the length of Miguel’s cock and giving one last, hard suck to the head.

And that was all it took, Miguel let out one last beautiful moan, every muscle in his body tensing for a second before suddenly relaxing, panting and dripping in sweat, twitching every few seconds as Hawk gently coaxed him through the last waves of his orgasm.

Taking a few seconds to drink in the image of Miguel so blissed out and committing it to memory, he crawled back up to lay next to his boyfriend, still breathing heavily himself as he draped an arm that felt as heavy as lead across Miguel’s chest. Miguel instantly rolled closer, legs tangling with his to keep him close and lips once again seeking out every bit of skin they could reach to dot him with sweet little pecks, mumbling somewhat incoherently into his neck.

If he thought he heard his name whispered against him a few times – his actual name, Eli, not Hawk – then he wasn’t going to bring it up.

Though he was going to have to spend some time sitting with the indescribable feeling of warmth and tightness in his chest hearing it left him with later.

They lay together in relative silence for several minutes, just letting both of their heartrates return to something more usual, though Eli was pretty sure his heart was never going to be able to keep a steady beat around Miguel ever again. Eventually they grudgingly rolled apart, if only to clean up a little, Miguel stretching his arms up above his head as he sat up.

Eli stayed lying where he was, but did reach out to slowly run the backs of his fingers up his boyfriend’s spine. “Was that ok?”

Looking over his shoulder, Miguel smiled down at him, leaning over to lock their lips together in a brief kiss before moving away to grab the box of tissues on the nightstand. “More than ok, mi corazón.”^[137] He must’ve noticed the way Hawk’s nose wrinkled up at the pet name, because he let out a loud snort. “What, too cheesy for you, querido?”^[138]

It wasn’t that, if anything he kind of loved the cheesiness because it was so typically Miguel, but it was… it got his hopes up for something more, something he wasn’t even sure was possible. Besides, he couldn’t resist teasing him a little.

“Way too cheesy, what’s wrong with just babe, or bro, or dude?”

Miguel dropped the tissue box onto Hawk’s chest after taking a few for himself, snorting before he said, “That’s so boring though, mi rey.”^[139]

“Worse.”

That insufferable smirk was back and he knew before Miguel even opened his mouth what was going to be coming out of it next. “Papi~”

“I will punch you.”

“How about lámparoso?”^[140] he asked, turning away to sort himself out. When Hawk just lightly smacked him on the hip he flashed another grin over his shoulder. “I can keep doing this all night guapo,^[141] if you don’t accept one then I’m just gonna keep finding more embarrassing things to call you.” It wasn’t an idle threat, Eli could remember some of the insufferably cutesy things he used to call Sam and Tory.

Groaning, he grabbed a few tissues and made quick work of removing his own condom and cleaning himself up. “Fine, just keep going, I’ll pick the one I can most tolerate.”

“Cariño, mi tesoro, mi luz, cielo-”^[142]

“Cielo, I can live with that.” He ignored the eye-roll and mumbled comment about the hawk wanting a nickname associated with the sky – that hadn’t actually crossed his mind but he had to admit it was kind of fitting – but the discussion did remind him of something that he’d been too… distracted to question before. “Earlier, you called me something else, I think it was a Kichwa word?”

While he was confident in his Spanish, he’d never learnt any Kichwa, despite the Diaz’s occasionally throwing it into their speech. He was pretty sure Miguel didn’t know a great deal of it himself, he’d just picked up the words and phrases his yaya liked to toss around, but it was certainly more than Hawk knew.

“Munashka?”^[143]

He nodded, pulling Miguel back down into his arms once he’d turned back around, running his fingers through his sweat-dampened curls. “What does it mean?”

Miguel’s smile was full of sunshine and Eli didn’t care how dazzling it was, he just couldn’t bring himself to look away. “Not telling,” he said, before laughing and leaning forwards to nuzzle their noses together.

As much as he wanted to complain about being left out of the loop, he was too sated and comfortable to go kicking up a fuss about it, so he just huffed and kissed his boyfriend instead.

By the time they came back up for air, Miguel had wound up laying on top of him, arms crossed on his chest and head pooled in them, soft eyes staring intently. “So what about me, don’t I get a pet name?”

“You’ve already got one, El Serpiente.”

Miguel snorted and, even though his mouth was covered by his arms, Eli could see the crinkle to his eyes that meant he was smiling. “Never gonna correct that, huh?”

He tried to huff, but the heavy weight on top of him restricted it, not that he had any intention of pushing him off. “Look it’s what I’ve been calling you for years, I can’t change to La Serpiente now, my brain instantly rejects it. You’re stuck with my grammatical errors for life.”

“You’re lucky I find your gringo shit funny instead of frustrating,” Miguel said, before uncrossing one arm to run his fingers along the edges of his mohawk – he didn’t want to think about what a mess it must be right now, especially the back which he could feel being crushed right this second – giving him a better view of his smirk, “but, you do realise that calling me that kinda has different implications now that we’re together, right?”

“Huh?”

At Miguel’s raised eyebrow and a tiny, but significant, shift of his hips his boyfriend’s words suddenly clicked and the effect was immediate.

The blush took direct control over his cheeks and ears and was making a bold advance on his neck as he managed to stutter out, “Th-that’s not what I-”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered,” Miguel said, smug, shit-eating grin plastered across his face and laughter causing a pleasant rumble against Hawk’s chest, “but if you want something less suggestive then you should probably get thinking, cielo.”

Still blushing furiously, Hawk grumbled a little as he turned his gaze to the side and considered it.

He had never felt like he’d been very good at pet names, or really being very outwardly affectionate in general, not in any of his pervious relationships. Oh he could be performative about it, big grand gestures like getting that tattoo with Moon’s name, or going to war with another dojo to get a kind of twisted and unwanted revenge for a friend – it hadn’t been a deliberately romantic gesture, but he’d felt more comfortable going for a wild act of service like that than he had just talking to Miguel – but when it came to those small gestures that showed he cared, little gifts, meaningful actions, thoughtful words… he was lost.

And it wasn’t like he had many good examples to take pet name inspiration from either. Miguel tended towards the sickeningly sweet, which worked perfectly for him, but Eli suspected would sound ridiculous coming out of his mouth; Tory and Robby’s pet names for each other were more like affectionate insults; as for Demetri and Yasmine… well, the less said about the things they called each other the better.

Even his parents weren’t any help, they just called each other by their names. Though his grandparents…

A hazy memory of sitting with his bubbe in her garden surfaced, of him asking about the meaning of the words she used when talking about her late husband, the grandpa he barely remembered but who still managed to bring a wide smile to her face every time she thought of him.

He remembered thinking how much he wanted someone who he would one day want to call the same thing, even long after they’d gone.

Seeing the soft affection dancing in warm, brown eyes, feeling the comforting weight of a strong man he both wanted to protect and knew could protect him in turn resting on his chest, as if he was the safest place in the world… He knew he wanted Miguel to be that person.

He already was that person.

“Mayn neshama,”^[144] Eli whispered, pulling Miguel’s hand away from his hair to kiss his palm.

Thick brows furrowed slightly as Miguel mouthed the words back at him, before he realised what Eli had done and pouted at him childishly. “Oh come on, that’s not fair.”

Grinning against Miguel’s hand, he licked a long line down his palm – ignoring the loud complaint he got for it – and gave his boyfriend his best kicked-puppy look. “I’m sorry that I’m just more devoted and learned your language when you never bothered to learn mine.”

“How much Yiddish do you actually speak?”

“Just enough to lord it over you, balibt,”^[145] he said, dropping the sad act and snickering when Miguel wiped his spit-slicked hand down Hawk’s cheek in revenge.

“Alright cielito, keep your secrets.” Hawk was ready to counter that Miguel had started it, but his boyfriend was already back to messing with his hair, straightening out one of the front spikes, an unreasonably cute frown of concentration on his face.

Being reminded of the state he was in, another thought came to mind.

Wrapping his arms around Miguel’s back, he waited until his eyes flicked down from where he was fixing the hawk to meet his gaze before asking with a wide grin and a slight roll of his hips, “Wanna go take a shower?”

Miguel raised a brow. “You have seen it right? No way we’re both fitting in that thing together.”

“Daaamn, sounds like we’d have to get really up close and personal,” he said, squeezing his arms a little tighter and enjoying the little shiver he got in return, “just right up against each other, you’re right that would really suck-”

Laughing loudly, Miguel placed his hands on Hawk’s chest and pushed himself into a sitting position, handily knocking the breath right out of his lungs.

“Ok, ok, just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As it turned out, Miguel was right. They could not, in fact, both fit in the shower at the same time. But they managed to have a lot of fun trying.

---

Chapter Text

---

They were halfway up the path to the front door when the distant thumps caught Miguel’s attention, making him veer off towards the fence that blocked the front yard off from the back garden. Eli trailed after him, not all that surprised when they turned the corner and saw a kid juggling a soccer ball between his feet and knees, though his focus was quickly broken by Miguel shouting a greeting.

“¡Oye, mocoso!”^[146]

The ball bounced a few times as the kid failed to catch it, and he turned with a scowl. “Rompiste mi racha Mig-”^[147] The name cut off abruptly the second he caught sight of Eli following behind, his large, wide eyes narrowing into slits.

The ball nearly hit Hawk as it went sailing past his head, hitting a bush behind him with a rustle of disturbed leaves.

“You again?”

Eli nearly laughed out loud.

“Damn kid, I know you don’t like me but that’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?” he asked, giving the same kind of grin that always used to piss Sam off when they were getting into their spats at school during the less extreme days of the great dojo rivalry.

Luis reacted about as well as she always had. “Vete a la mierda, gilipoll-”^[148]

“Ok, did I miss something here?” Miguel’s voice was somewhere between amused and exhausted as he glanced between Eli and the kid. “Also Luis, if your mamá hears you speaking like that you will not live to see your fourteenth birthday, might wanna keep it down.”

“It’s fine, the kid’s just jealous that I’m stealing your attention away from him.”

“I’m not jealous!” Digging his foot under the nearby garden table, Luis dragged a second soccer ball out of hiding and launched it at Hawk’s head.

The kid looked like he wanted to scream when it was easily caught.

Miguel rolled his eyes and pulled the ball out of Eli’s hands, bouncing it on his knee a few times before kicking it towards the goal set up behind Luis, just missing the net, causing Luis to groan and flip Miguel off before running to retrieve it from the bush it’d bounced off into. Leaning over to brush his lips close to Eli’s ear, Miguel whispered, “And I’m sure you haven’t done anything to provoke him.”

It was impossible to keep the smirk off his face. “That doesn’t sound like something I would do.”

“Uh-huh.” Laughing as he leaned back, Miguel intercepted the soccer ball that had once again been kicked in their general direction and started dribbling it towards the goal, calling back over his shoulder, “You’re practically a saint after all.”

He didn’t get anywhere close to the goal before Luis came charging across the garden to tackle his surrogate brother to the grass. Eli had a flashback to the particularly violent game of soccer he’d once played against Miyagi-Do.

Between this and his obvious dislike for Hawk’s entire existence, Luis really was similar to how Sam had been in her teens.

Eli was about to go and help his boyfriend escape the kid’s assault – not that he needed it, he’d already grabbed Luis around the waist and hauled him over his shoulder where he couldn’t do much more than thrash ineffectively – when movement from the house caught his attention.

“¿Eres tú, Miguel?”^[149] Maria called out, already making her way over and catching him in a tight hug the second Luis was placed back on his feet. “¡Qué bueno verte lucir bien!”^[150]

Squeezing her back, Miguel lifted her off the ground for a second before putting her back down. “Tú también Maria, perdón por no visitarme mucho últimamente.”^[151]

She unsubtly glanced down to his knee and gave him a soft smile. “Lo entiendo, he tratado de decirle a Hector que te está pidiendo demasiado, pero…”^[152]

“Gracias, pero estoy bien, por favor no hagas nada innecesario,”^[153] he said, not quite meeting her gaze before gesturing in Eli’s direction, “¿te acuerdas de Hawk?”^[154]

“Por supuesto. Luis estuvo haciendo muchas preguntas sobre ti después de que te fuiste, estoy seguro de que está emocionado de verte nuevamente-”^[155] the woman leaned in conspiratorially but didn’t lower her voice by very much “-quedó muy impresionado con tu cabello.”^[156]

The grin that spread across Eli’s face probably looked evil, but it was the only appropriate reaction to the look of pure horror on Luis’ as far as he was concerned. “¿Realmente?”^[157]

“¡Mamá!”

Acting like she hadn’t even heard her son’s indignant squeal, Maria started walking back to the house, calling over her shoulder that she would get them some drinks while they waited for dinner.

Likely in an attempt to keep Hawk from having a chance to tease him, Luis immediately grabbed Miguel’s arm and demanded he help him practice a move he’d been learning at soccer club. Miguel threw Eli a long-suffering look, but allowed himself to be roped into it. Sensing that his presence would not be tolerated by the kid, Eli made his way over to the nearby garden table and sat heavily in one of the chairs around it.

It was good that Miguel was so relaxed for once. Hector had been dragging him along to more of his meetings lately and it was obvious the stress was starting to get to him, however much he tried to hide it when he and Eli were alone.

There was a faint rattle behind him and he jumped to his feet to take the tray out of Maria’s hands and place it down, quietly thanking her when she pointed out his drink.

Maria joined him sitting at the table, taking a sip of her juice and turning to watch Miguel and Luis.

Eli laughed and heckled his boyfriend as Miguel missed Luis’ pass, needing to go chasing after the ball. Judging by the expression shot in his direction, Miguel was very badly wishing he could flip Hawk off without incurring Maria’s wrath.

“I have not seen him this happy in a long time.”

He blinked several times before snapping his head around to stare at the woman next to him.

“I am glad you are here; he needs your support, it is good for him,” she said, her words a little stilted and pronunciation occasionally off, but far more fluent than Miguel had led him to believe she was.

“I thought you only spoke Spanish,” he said slowly, eyeing her as he took a sip of his drink.

Maria gave him a wide grin, nodding her head to where her two boys were still playing. “They think they are very clever speaking in English when they do not want me to understand what trouble they are planning, so I have been learning in secret.”

Snickering, he looked over in time to see Miguel giving him a soft grin, oblivious to what they were talking about, but seemingly just happy to see him and Maria getting along. “Well, you’re doing great.”

She leaned over to say in an exaggerated whisper, “Do not tell them, please, I want to surprise them both.”

“Ningún problema,”^[158] he said, relaxing more in his seat and giving her a more genuine smile, “and if you want someone to practice with, then I’m your guy.”

“Thank you. You are very generous; Miguel is lucky to have you.”

His smile dropped and he stared down into the bright, fruity liquid in his glass. “I don’t know about that, it doesn’t really feel like I’ve done much for him lately.” It was weird, things with Miguel were going shockingly well, they were getting closer and they had a lot of fun together.

There was something gnawing at him though.

The only times they ever really fought was when Eli tried to get Miguel to see that his father was a piece of shit who wasn’t worth his affection, but that view had been ignored so consistently now that he hadn’t even bothered trying recently. He wanted to push harder, try and get through to that part of Miguel that knew things couldn’t go on as they were, but he was terrified of pushing too hard, pushing him away.

Maria’s contemplative hum dragged him out of his own head enough to glance at her out of the corner of his eye. “No,” she said with such surety that he had to blink and turn to face her properly. “You help him, he has told me he feels more… animado, animado… more living?” she asked, face twisting as she clearly knew something was off, even if she couldn’t quite place it.

“Lively,” he said, smiling at her encouragingly.

Her eyes lit up and she nodded eagerly. “More lively, since you arrived. I see it too, he does not only think of his father since you came here, now he can think of you and be happy.”

It was impossible to ignore the heat in his cheeks at that, but he rubbed at his nose hoping to at least hide his reaction from Maria.

If the look on her face was anything to go by, he hadn’t been fast enough.

Her smirk quickly faded to a more sombre expression though and her nails tapped at the glass in her hands. “You want for him to leave here. Go home with you,” she said quietly, staring out at the subject of their discussion.

She hadn’t framed it as a question. She already knew his answer.

That didn’t help the flare of guilt in his stomach though, knowing that she was aware he wanted to steal away someone who was practically a member of her family.

“I do not disagree.” Letting out a long sigh, she carefully placed her drink back on the table, shifting in her seat so that she was facing Eli. “He should not stay here; it pains me to see him treated badly.”

Eli bit his lip, glancing between her and Miguel and Luis who had stopped playing while Luis was apparently trying to show off some particularly tricky manoeuvre he’d learned at his last class. He knew she was right, even if the man himself refused to accept it, the one thing Miguel needed more than anything was to get away from here, away from his father. But…

Miguel cheered as Luis finally pulled off the kick he’d been attempting and ruffled the kid’s hair, Luis grinning up at his kind-of brother like he’d hung the stars in the sky.

But Miguel needed this too, these weren’t relationships he could throw away without any regrets. Just like he hadn’t been able to throw away his relationships with everyone back home when he first left. They still haunted him, he felt their absence and was constantly guilty over it, even if he tried to hide it. Would he even be able to do that again with the people he’d grown close to down here?

Clearing his throat and lowering his voice, Eli kept his eyes trained on Miguel to make sure he wasn’t paying attention when he asked, “Have you ever thought about it? Getting away from Hector?”

She kept her breathing remarkably steady, but he saw the way her hands twisted in her lap out of the corner of his eye. “There are few places for a woman like me to go, I was not… fortunate, before I met Hector.” Not that fortunate after she met Hector either from what Eli knew, but he understood her point. “All I want is what is best for my son, but I do not have the means to provide him a good life by myself.”

“What if you did have the means, would you leave?” He was pressing her now, probably a little desperately, but he wanted this to be an option. If his anchors left, then it would be one less thing tying Miguel here. He might even leave with them.

“I have asked God for such a miracle every day since Luis was born,” Maria said softly, with a sad smile that didn’t touch her eyes, “and I will keep asking, but I do not think that is my fate.”

She hadn’t said no.

But she also sounded about as hopeful as Miguel did when Eli tried to talk to him about escaping.

“If there were something I could do to protect them both, I would do it-” Maria sounded desperate, pleading, like she was trying to convince herself as much as Eli “-but my husband has little interest in me, he onl-”

The speed at which her mouth snapped shut as the distant, familiar voice drifted to them through the open back door made Eli wince in sympathy for her teeth.

He turned around, but already knew who he could expect to see striding into the kitchen, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves and rolling them up casually as he stuck his head through the door.

“¡Algo huele delicioso!”^[159]

Maria was suddenly smiling and pushing herself to her feet to greet him with a brief kiss on the cheek. “Mi amor, bienvenido a casa.”^[160]

He didn’t return the greeting, head turned to stare directly at Eli instead. “Mohicano?” His eyes flicked across to where Miguel and Luis had stopped playing, both immediately at attention and already walking over. “Keeping an eye on my son? Glad to see you take your duties so seriously.”

“No te esperaba en casa temprano hoy,”^[161] Maria said, clearly trying to distract him as she wrapped her arms around one of her husband’s.

“Las cosas han ido bien últimamente, que mejor manera de celebrar que pasar tiempo con mi hermosa familia.”^[162] By now, their two respective sons had joined them, and it was shocking seeing just how much they really did look like a family; he’d seen photos of them all together, but in person it just hit different.

The only thing ruining the image was the obvious distress on Miguel’s face and the way Luis was glaring at his step-father as he dodged the man’s attempt to ruffle his short hair.

Hector didn’t seem to care about the lack of respect the boy was giving him though, too busy throwing an arm around Miguel’s shoulders. “Ha pasado mucho tiempo desde que estuvimos todos juntos, ¿qué tal una gran cena familiar?”^[163]

“Ya tengo birria de res cocinando, pero para tanta gente…”^[164]

“Puedo hacer fideo seco, ese siempre fue tu favorito, Luis,”^[165] he said, smiling warmly as if the kid wasn’t giving him an even dirtier look than the ones he’d been shooting at Eli since he got here.

Luis barely got the chance to open his mouth before Miguel was subtly pushing him back, quickly offering to help his father cook, at almost the exact same time Maria also began to offer her own assistance.

“No, no, ustedes dos siempre están haciendo demasiado por mí, deberían relajarse-”^[166] with a hand on each of their shoulders, Hector guided them towards the seats Maria and Eli had been sitting in before their conversation had been disrupted, then his sharp gaze landed on Eli himself “-though perhaps Mohicano wouldn’t mind assisting.”

That was the absolute last thing he wanted, but he schooled his expression to make sure his distaste didn’t show as he nodded once, trying to ignore the anxious look Miguel was shooting at him.

With a final command for family to stay put and relax, Hector led Hawk back into the kitchen, immediately setting him to the task of roughly dicing an onion and a few tomatoes while he started pulling various other ingredients out. Eli knew it was too much to hope that the man might’ve genuinely just wanted some help cooking, but he was quiet for long enough that he almost jumped when Hector stepped up to his side and finally spoke.

“Spending time with my whole family now, I see. I hope they’ve treated you well.”

He paused halfway through a cut, before quickly pushing the knife the rest of the way through the tomato. “They’re very welcoming.”

“Indeed, I could not ask for more.” Hector said quietly.

The smile on his face might’ve fooled anyone else.

Eli didn’t care to hide his scepticism, snorting and making the next cut with more force than necessary. At this point they knew exactly where they stood with each other, in some ways it was almost a relief to be alone with Hector, because he definitely felt less pressure to play nice than he did when Miguel was around to fret about it.

There was a brief chuckle at his side, before Hector’s expression dropped into something more subdued and serious as he turned to face Eli fully. “I know what you must think about me Hawk, but I do love my son.”

“Bullshit.”

The word was out of his mouth before he had even a second to consider if it was a good idea, but once it was out there, he decided he didn’t regret it. Carefully placing the knife down on the board so he wasn’t tempted to do something else with it – though he kept his hand pressed down on its handle anyway for the small sense of protection it offered, an action that Hector’s gaze lingered on – Eli turned to better face the man himself, glaring up at him with every bit of rage he’d been forced to hide for several weeks now.

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” he growled, sparing only a brief glance through the still open backdoor to check he hadn’t caught anyone’s attention before forcing himself to lower his voice, “if you really cared, you wouldn’t be putting him in danger.”

The look Hector was giving him was pure ice, even if he spoke with a light, amused tone, “I have faith that Miguel can handle anything I throw at him, he’s a strong young man.”

Eli’s grip on the knife handle tightened. “Just because he can handle it, doesn’t mean he should have to.”

For a long moment, neither of them moved, staring at each other intently.

“Perhaps things were different where you come from,” Hector eventually said, shrugging off the tense set to his shoulders and returning to measuring his seasoning, “but I learned young that there will always be someone out to take what belongs to you. If you want to succeed, you have to be more ruthless than your competition, even if it costs you those you love, that is just the cost of doing business. I want my son to be prepared to do what is necessary when life tries to take what is his.” His dark eyes snapped back to Eli, harder than he’d ever seen them before. “Perhaps that seems like cruelty to someone like you.”

He was practically growling at this point. “Someone like me?”

“Someone who grew up soft.”

His fist clenched as he pressed it into the countertop to halt its shaking. Was this man deliberately needling at one of his biggest insecurities, or had he just lucked into it? Either way, Eli was doing a poor job hiding his reaction, too wound up already by Hector’s presence and his painfully transparent lies about his feelings towards his son, because he didn’t love Miguel.

He couldn’t.

He could say whatever he liked, it was never going to be enough to contradict his actions.

“Miguel grew up soft too, his mother’s influence no doubt,” he continued, an uncharacteristically venomous tone to his voice when he mentioned Carmen, “but I have been working to teach him how the world works, he might not like it, but it is for his own good. I am trying to protect him.”

He was going to end up throwing the knife at Hector if he didn’t shut up right now.

Eli had already begun to piece together the pattern by now. Whenever Hector fucked up badly enough to shake his son’s trust in him he would immediately back off, give Miguel space to get over his hurt feelings by himself and begin to rewrite his own memories of what his father had done – his chosen coping method – then Hector would go in hard on the love-bombing, giving Miguel all the affection he was still so desperate for, throwing him further off-balance and encouraging him to further convince himself that whatever his dad had done wasn’t even that bad.

At which point Hector was free to start showing his true colours again, and Miguel wouldn’t fight it, not until another line was crossed.

And every time that line got pushed further and further back.

It was sickeningly effective, and now Hector was attempting something similar on Hawk, trying to use the one thing he knew about him – that he would happily follow Miguel into hell and back – as a way to get his hooks into him, pretending he cared, that they could connect on that level in order to create an opening to exploit later.

Unfortunately for him, Eli had been down this road before and he was better able to see the absolute bullshit for what it was.

“I’m protecting him too,” he said, in a tone you could bend steel around. He didn’t say that the only one he felt Miguel needed protection from was Hector himself. The man could probably guess that from his glare.

Eli’s poorly-supressed rage didn’t seem to faze him at all though, instead he looked more… considering than anything else, eyes boring deep into his for long enough that Eli could feel the steady gaze clawing at his suddenly too-tight skin, tiny shivers wracking through him.

But he refused to look away. Hector was not going to find a weakness to abuse here.

Eventually, the man’s tight expression relaxed, a light smile twisting his lips as he turned away from Eli, breaking their stare. “Creo que ahora te entiendo mejor,”^[167] he said quietly, “very well, Hawk, I am glad Miguel has someone so loyal to him, keep looking after him as you have been. But bear in mind, whether you believe it or not, my son knows I love him.”

It made him sick hearing those words, but, as desperate as he was to refute them, he couldn’t.

Hector might not have his hooks in Eli, but he didn’t really need them. Miguel was the one holding Eli here, and he wasn’t about to let go anytime soon.

---

“Miggy!”

As if the shout alone wasn’t enough, Tadeo was waving wildly at them from his seat, a wide, dopey grin plastered across his face. Hawk didn’t say anything, but he glanced at Miguel, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

“Dios, es un cojudo,”^[168] Miguel said fondly, rolling his eyes as they made their way over.

While the bar itself was pretty crowded when they’d entered, Tadeo had managed to find an outside table that was surprisingly secluded and much quieter. There was already a near-empty glass at his elbow, which was knocked over when he stood up and leaned across the table to grab Miguel’s offered hand and pull him into a quick bro hug.

“Seguro que sabes cómo preocupar a un chico, Mig, apenas he sabido de ti últimamente.”^[169]

Miguel patted his back a few times, before extracting himself from his friend’s grasp and taking a seat, landing heavily and running his hand through his hair, sheepish smile on his face. “Lo siento, yo... pasaban muchas cosas.”^[170]

“Siempre tienes cosas mierda pasando,”^[171] he said laughing, before leaning around Miguel to wave enthusiastically at Eli. “Yo, Hawk, good to see you again man! You two amigos now?”

He slid into the seat beside Miguel and – after a quick glance around to ensure none of the other patrons enjoying the warm evening air were paying attention – made a point of wrapping his arm around his boyfriend’s waist, ignoring the eye-roll he could just see in the corner of his vision in favour of staring hard at the man sitting opposite them.

Miguel had told him he didn’t need to be jealous of Tadeo, but Eli had also seen the way the guy acted around him and wanted to make it clear early on that Miguel wasn’t available to be hit on anymore.

“Ohh, novios.”^[172] He had an annoyingly smug grin on his face that suggested he wasn’t all that surprised. “Felicidades.”^[173]

“Thanks, but don’t go spreading it around,” Miguel said quietly, though he made no attempt to escape Eli’s hold, and if he wasn’t going to do anything about it Eli wasn’t going to either, “my dad doesn’t know and I’d like to keep it that way.”

The flicker of a more serious expression was gone in less than a second, but Tadeo nodded as his usual grin returned. “Sure man, but if you go around acting like that it ain’t gonna stay secret for long.”

Hawk glared at the idiot as Miguel reluctantly shrugged off his arm, though when Tadeo looked over to return his gaze he had a surprisingly intense stare, even if his smile hadn’t dimmed at all. “Hey, Mig, how ‘bout you go grab us some drinks,” he said casually, picking up his toppled glass and waving it in his friend’s face.

Miguel glanced between them both, clearly picking up on Tadeo’s not so subtle intentions. “You both gonna be alive when I get back?” he asked wryly, though he was already pushing himself out of his seat.

“Yeah, we’re all cool man, now get gone.”

Despite Tadeo’s laid-back tone, their little staring match continued well after Miguel had walked out of earshot. It was only when Eli saw him disappearing back into the bar out of the corner of his eye that he finally broke the silence. “What, gonna try and scare me off or something?”

Snorting loudly, Tadeo shook his head. “Nah, Miguelito’s already tried that and it didn’t work, did it? I figure you know what you’re getting into by now.”

“You’re not jealous?” he asked, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

“No way man.” Tadeo’s face twisted into such an exaggerated expression of disbelief that it only made Eli more suspicious, though he was a pretty animated guy in general, so maybe he was being honest. It was hard to tell with guys like him sometimes. “I mean don’t get me wrong, Miggy’s hot, if he offered to get into my bed again I wouldn’t say no-”

Tadeo should really thank Miyagi-Do and years of therapy for training Eli’s more violent instincts out of him. “That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about.”

“-but I’m not looking to get back with him for more than a bit of fun,” the man carried on as if Hawk hadn’t spoken, before his wide grin dimmed a little and his voice lowered to something more serious. “He’s… he needs more than a guy like me can deal with. He’s got demons, y’know? I ain’t a priest, I don’t know shit about how to exorcise that shit.”

That was probably about as poignant a statement as he could expect from this clown of a man, but Eli supposed it made sense.

Miguel certainly had a lot going on in his life that made being in a relationship with him more difficult than either of them wished it was, and for most people it would probably be too much to handle. If Eli hadn’t already had such deep feelings for him to start with, without all their history to remind him what it was he was still fighting for, would he have pursued this so doggedly?

Well, probably yes, because he had always been prone to obsession, but he also would’ve preferred not having to sneak around to avoid Hector learning about them and using their relationship to deepen his already tight hold over Miguel.

Still though, that phrasing…

“Are you calling me a priest?”

Tadeo broke into instant, howling laughter that drew more than a few eyes to their table – though they quickly turned back to their own conversations – before breathlessly saying, “Dios, no, but you seem like a man who’s had his own share of demons and gotten past them, maybe you can show Miggy too, that guy needs it.”

Eli blinked at him, waiting for the joking comment to follow, but nothing came. Tadeo seemed to pretty sincerely believe what he was saying.

“Well, thanks. I guess,” he said a little uncertainly, not quite sure what to take from this conversation.

“What, you still think I’m gonna go after your man?” It hadn’t been his main concern, though the thought was definitely still lingering in the back of his mind. But the wide grin on Tadeo’s face suggested he wasn’t all that offended by any mistrust he was reading into Eli’s expression. “Look, I’ll lay off the flirting – Miguelito won’t put up with it when he’s dating someone anyway – so you can relax. You’re a cool dude, I’d like it if we could be friends.”

Snorting, Eli leaned further back in his seat and gave the man his most blank stare. “We’ll see.”

Tadeo didn’t need to know that he already trusted him more than almost anyone else he’d met here, simply because he was one of the few people Miguel trusted.

“Oh, gonna play hard-to-get, huh? Guess I’ve gotta try and get in your favour then.”

He glanced back to check on the door Miguel had disappeared through earlier – it shouldn’t take this long to get drinks, so Eli suspected he was deliberately giving them extra time to talk it out – before turning back to face Hawk, leaning across the table and gesturing for him to do the same. Rolling his eyes, he mirrored the motion until they were only a few inches apart, raising a brow when Tadeo gave him a conspiratorial grin.

“He’s really into biting and hair-pulling.”

Eli snorted. He’d discovered that much already.

“He’ll deny it, but he’s got a major praise kink, if you compliment him lots he gets really embarrassed and flustered, it’s hilarious, completely ruins that whole brat routine he normally has going, aaand-” he tilted his head a little to tap at a point just behind his ear “-this spot is mega sensitive, if you kiss him there he’ll basically get instantly horny.”

Hawk’s face pinched as he tried to process the extremely mixed emotions he was getting hearing all that. He didn’t really want to imagine the kinds of things Miguel and his ex had gotten up to for him to know all that, but he also couldn’t deny the curiosity flaring up inside him at the thought of maybe trying those things himself.

Still though, better set some clear boundaries before Tadeo started thinking he was happy having this kind of conversation with him.

“Me and Miguel are doing just fine. You won’t be if you keep talking.”

“Just putting some ideas in your head, don’t mean anything by it,” Tadeo said, holding his hands up as he leaned back and sat more casually in his seat. “Seriously though, you two seem like you’ll be good for each other, he’s a good friend, I want him to be happy and that ain’t gonna happen with me.”

Leaning back himself to match the shift in their talk, Hawk was preparing his response when he noticed Miguel making his way back over to them, drinks in hand.

“Damn, you’re still intact,” he said, dumping the three glasses on the table and pushing them towards their intended recipients, before sliding easily into his seat again. He kept a little distance between them this time, but, before Eli could be too put out by that, a warm hand sought out his under the table and tangled their fingers together tightly.

Tadeo probably didn’t notice, too busy grabbing at his drink and chugging half of it down. “C’mon, you know I wouldn’t hurt your boyfriend, Miguelito.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t Hawk I was worried about.”

Snickering, Eli squeezed the hand wrapped around his and fought back the urge to just lean over and kiss him like he desperately wanted to, taking a slow sip of his drink to keep himself occupied.

But Miguel was definitely getting it once they were alone.

---

^[xxx]“Fuuuck.”

Eli groaned; Miguel’s voice muffled against his neck like that was seriously going to do him in one day. He leaned forwards, brushing his boyfriend’s hair back and nosing behind his ear before licking lightly at the sensitive skin there, he felt as Miguel clenched around his fingers and moaned into his skin.

It kinda pissed him off that Tadeo’s advice about his ex’s weak point had been so spot on, but it was hard to be too annoyed when he had a lapful of squirming Miguel to enjoy as a result.

Thrusting his fingers a little deeper, he began to stretch experimentally, trying to get a feel for how ready Miguel was. Judging by how uneven his breathing was getting and the little jerking movements of his hips that kept brushing their cocks together, he was getting pretty close already.

“Hawk, porfis-”^[174]

He gasped as Eli curled his fingers against that special spot he’d made a point of memorising the location of.

Grinning widely, Eli kept brushing against it, drinking in every little shudder and moan Miguel let out. He had to wonder if it really felt that good, he’d always been too embarrassed – and honestly kind of intimidated – by the very concept to try any anal play for himself, but Miguel certainly seemed to be enjoying it.

Maybe he would feel comfortable enough to suggest reversing roles to his boyfriend at some point.

“Unhh, ok, that’s enough.” Miguel reached behind himself to grab Eli’s wrist and hold it in place as he lifted himself off his fingers, a fascinating little whimper escaping him at the loss.

Before Eli could attempt to escape his boyfriend’s grip, Miguel was leaning closer into him, free hand smearing lube over his cock, gently holding it in place before sinking down on it in a single smooth motion. They both groaned in unison, Eli wrapping his arms tightly around Miguel’s back to hold him in place as his body acclimatised to the flood of sensation, Miguel’s wrapping around his neck for presumably the same reason.

Miguel didn’t wait long to adjust however before rolling his hips, strong thighs pushing himself up then dropping heavily back down, rhythmically clenching around him with each slow, steady movement.

The combination of the pressure around his cock and Miguel’s overwhelmingly warm body wrapping itself around him as much as possible in this position – Eli leaning back against the headboard, Miguel straddling his thighs – was already threatening to finish him, the sensations smothering and overwhelming and absolutely delicious.

He wasn’t going to let Miguel be in sole control of their pace this time though. His hands couldn’t help wandering to stroke and caress and lightly scratch at his skin as they travelled down from Miguel’s upper back to his hips, where they gripped tightly enough to halt his movements and hold him still, Hawk’s cock deep inside of him. Within seconds his boyfriend was growling at the lack of movement, a sharp bite at his shoulder a silent warning.

Smirking, Eli dragged Miguel almost entirely off of his cock, groaning at the desperate grip protesting the loss. Holding him in place, tip of his dick just barely inside, he thrust up at the same time as he pulled him back down, setting a fast pace that left them both gasping into each other’s skin.

Miguel bit him again, though more gently this time, tongue snaking out to soothe the mild pain left behind. “Fuck, fuck-”

“Too much?” he asked, sounding more out-of-breath than teasing as he’d hoped. “Need me to slow down, babe?”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Laughing, he slowed his pace anyway, testing his luck. He wasn’t surprised when Miguel started growling again, though he was caught off-guard when he grabbed both his wrists, pulling them away from his hips and pinning them against the headboard instead. With Eli’s control removed, Miguel took charge of their pace again, bouncing more rapidly in his lap, drawing louder and louder moans out of both of them.

Biting his lip so he could better hear Miguel’s reactions, he started thrusting up, experimenting with angle and speed until one finally got that particular gasp he’d been aiming for.

He twisted one of his hands out of his boyfriend’s grip and wrapped it under his thigh, squeezing the firm muscle there as they figured out how to move together so that Miguel was getting the most pleasure possible. It didn’t take long and, now that Eli was actually giving him what he wanted, Miguel released his other hand too, instead wrapping his arms around Hawk’s shoulders and using that leverage to better roll against him.

With both hands now free, Eli gave into his desire to let them explore, running them reverently over the burning hot skin of his thighs and ass.

Miguel’s head dropped back and he actually squeezed around Eli’s cock, nearly making him sob in pure pleasure. “Ahh~ do that again,” Hawk begged, leaning forwards to brush his lips against Miguel’s collarbone, “it felt fucking amazing.”

Lifting his head back up to grin down at him, Miguel did as requested.

“Fuck.” He groaned loudly, voice low and shaking, when he said, “you’re so good Miguel, you’re perfect.”

He was practically headbutted with the speed at which his boyfriend smothered his face into his neck, breathy whimpers ticking against his skin. Blinking down at him, Eli couldn’t help but snicker at the distinctly red tint to the sliver of cheek that couldn’t be hidden. It took a lot to be able to see a blush on Miguel’s brown skin.

Right, Tadeo had mentioned a praise kink as well, hadn’t he? Might as well lean into it.

He licked again at that sensitive spot just behind his ear, feeling the tremor that racked Miguel’s body against his. He nibbled at the shell of his ear before whispering, voice cracking a little, “You make me feel incredible babe, you’re so fucking hot and tight-”

“Shut up,” Miguel whined, face remaining buried in his neck.

As much as Eli had loved the confident Miguel he’d seen in all their previous sexual encounters, this was an exciting change of pace he could definitely get on board with.

“But I just wanna tell you how good you are at this,” he continued, thrusting becoming less coordinated as they both tumbled towards their inevitable climaxes, “you need to know how beautiful and perfect you are, I love everything about this so much, how amazing you make me feel, these perfect, strong legs-”

Miguel’s trembling was getting to be too much, his ass clamping down on his cock enough that he could barely move, trapped within him.

He was so damn close, but Miguel was going to break first, he was determined about that.

Letting one hand work its way between them to wrap around Miguel’s cock, he started pumping as much as their tightly pressed bodies would allow, spreading pre-come down his length to ease the process. After their first time Miguel had insisted they both go get tested and was now somewhat more willing to forgo protection provided they were in a position where it wasn’t going to make too much mess. He still requested Hawk wear a condom if they were doing anal though, mostly because the clean-up was apparently a bitch otherwise. Not that he particularly minded, this already felt so incredible that he couldn’t imagine losing such a thin sheet of latex was really gonna blow his mind.

Miguel was doing that well enough already, clenching around him and gasping into his shoulder; the sharp inhales left Eli’s skin cold and he shivered at the not-unpleasant sensation.

His other hand found itself digging into the loose curls of his boyfriend’s hair, lightly tugging until he was forced to lean back away from him, enough that he couldn’t hide anymore.

Fuck. Miguel almost looked drunk with lust, cheeks stained a deep red, pupils blown wide and lips fallen apart as tiny moans escaped him with every thrust of Eli’s hips and jerk of his hand. Groaning himself at the sight, he leaned forwards to capture some of those moans, enticing him to return his kiss – though Miguel really wasn’t in a state to respond to much of anything at the moment – before nipping lightly at his ear again.

“I want you to come for me baby, you always look so pretty when you come.” The whisper brought a full-body shudder out of Miguel, the vibration transferring directly to Hawk’s cock making him moan loudly. Using every ounce of self-control he had, Eli gently used his grip in Miguel’s hair to pull him back again. “Déjame ver esa cara bonito.”^[175]

And that was all it took, Miguel let out a low groan and his whole body seemed to melt, slumping heavily against him as the last tremors of his orgasm passed through him, warm, sticky come spreading where his cock had been trapped between them.

Eli couldn’t stop the smug grin from spreading across his face, though he stopped moving to give his boyfriend some time to recover, despite the demands of his still-hard cock trapped in his tight heat. “Damn, already? That really gets to you, huh?” he asked with a breathless chuckle.

Miguel grunted into his shoulder, before lightly rocking his hips. He hissed as the motion brushed at his undoubtedly over-sensitive body, but didn’t stop moving, rocking turning to light bounces in his lap.

Snapping his hands down to hold Miguel’s hips still, Eli whined into his ear, “Fuck, you don’t have to-”

“Wanna finish you off like this, shut up.”

He didn’t get any chance to object further and maybe it was a little selfish but he really didn’t want to. Not when that perfect, warm ass was engulfing him and Miguel’s lips were trailing across his shoulder and up his neck, tongue snaking out to leave wet trails that cooled rapidly once he turned his attention to a new spot.

And Miguel kept rocking against him, even as every tiny brush of Eli’s cock against his sweet-spot only made him whimper and whine from overstimulation.

Deciding to take pity on him – even if his boyfriend was being a stubborn idiot who probably didn’t deserve it – he shifted to a position that didn’t angle him quite as insistently against Miguel’s prostate and began thrusting up into him, hoping to finish quicker. It wouldn’t have taken long regardless. Miguel was too warm, too tight, the thighs trembling against his sides kept squeezing him and the teeth at his jaw were soothed by hot breaths and weak groans directly against his skin.

Gripping his hips tight enough he was probably leaving bruises, Eli gave one last push before falling apart, moaning Miguel’s name as he shuddered with his climax.

He leaned his head against Miguel’s, panting to refill his burning lungs and grinning widely when he heard the mumbled, “Shit. Please tell me you’re done.”

Carefully lifting Miguel off of him, Eli helped roll him over so he could collapse next to him in the bed, still twitching slightly. He was definitely too out of it to do anything for a minute – his own damn fault, but the fact that he’d played a large part in driving Miguel to that state gave him no end of joy – so he took care of cleaning them up, discarding his condom and using a damp wash-cloth to wipe off the worst of their mess.

By the time he’d gotten them sufficiently clean Miguel had managed to come back to his senses, though he still looked gorgeously blissed out, even as he whined, “Fuck. Everything hurts.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask you to do that-” Eli lay down next to him, watching the uneven rise and fall of his chest with no small amount of fascination “-you get no sympathy from me.”

Miguel pouted, rolling over to face him. “Not even a little bit?” he spoke into the pillow, rough voice pleasant to Eli’s ears.

He snickered and reached his hand up to hold his jaw, tugging him closer and whispering against his lips, “Nope.”

Miguel mumbled into the kiss – probably something along the lines of ‘asshole’ – but he was quick to return it, wrapping an arm around Eli’s waist and pulling their bodies firmly together. They stayed like that for a while, just relaxing and cuddling, but eventually Miguel pulled back a little, an unreadable look on his still-flushed face. “So, uh, this might sound weird, but…” he trailed off, his eyes rather pointedly avoiding Eli’s and an embarrassed twist to his lips. “Have you and Tadeo been talking?”

The embarrassed guilt in Eli’s expression must’ve been pretty obvious. He hadn’t been expecting anything like that to come out of Miguel’s mouth.

“Can’t believe that asshole went and told you all my weaknesses.” Miguel pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing slightly as he did before poking Hawk hard in the shoulder. “You’re forbidden from ever talking to him again.”

Eli wrinkled his nose. Granted he’d been using a few tricks recommended by the man, but it was still annoying to be compared to Miguel’s ex. But, then again, how would it feel for him to have a new partner suddenly fucking him in a way that reminded him of a past lover? “Sorry, was that uncomfortable for you?”

“I think it should be pretty obvious that it wasn’t,” Miguel said, hand trailing down Eli’s chest to trace along the lotus tattoo there, “I’m just embarrassed that I fell apart like that.”

“I mean, I really liked seeing you like that.” He reached up so that he could run a hand through his boyfriend’s messy hair, for some reason it always seemed to get more and more curly the more exhausted Miguel was. It was a good look on him.

Miguel’s blush briefly darkened. That was also a good look on him.

“I liked it too,” he admitted, leaning forwards to press a lazy kiss against Eli’s smug grin, “but you bet your ass I’m going to find out all your weak spots soon enough and return the favour.”

He laughed and pulled Miguel closer, nosing at that spot behind his ear he was quickly starting to adore, especially if Miguel was going to gasp like that every time. “Can’t wait.”

---

He awoke to a strange, hissing noise. Cracking his eyes open, Eli saw Miguel’s back before anything else, his shoulders shaking lightly with every tightly controlled breath. He instinctively drew closer, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend’s waist until a sharp whimper stopped him dead.

“Miguel?”

The only response he got was a jagged inhale. Pulling his arm back carefully, Eli sat up and manoeuvred himself so that he could lean over and look into Miguel’s face.

His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and his jaw was clenched so hard Eli was almost worried he was going to crack a tooth. He placed a gentle hand on Miguel’s shoulder, but even that feather-light touch was enough to draw an agonised gasp out of him.

“Shit-” he immediately pulled back again and shuffled off the bed, trying his best to limit any movement that might jostle Miguel again, and walked around to his side of the bed “-Miguel, can you hear me?”

He mouthed something that looked like a ‘yes’ though perhaps it was just wishful thinking on Eli’s part.

“Ok, what can I do to help?” he asked.

Though his first thought had been that he was having some kind of panic attack, this wasn’t quite matching his previous exposures to them. Miguel just seemed to be in pain. He tapped weakly at the bedside table with one hand while the other was curling into a tight fist, clawing at his sheets.

Opening the drawer and digging around, Eli’s hand closed around a small, rattling bottle. “Right, I’m gonna get some water, back in a sec.”

Practically sprinting to the kitchen, Eli filled a glass halfway and ran back to the bedroom, twisting the cap off the painkillers and quickly skimming the label to check for the dosage.

He helped Miguel to swallow them and crouched next to the bed for the entire fifty minutes they took to kick in – needing to shift position several times as his legs gradually went dead, but refusing to leave Miguel’s side for even a second – gently running his hands through his hair in a comforting massage the entire time.

Eventually his partner managed to uncurl a little, his breathing becoming less laboured and the tension slowly leaving his body.

Eli let his hand slide from Miguel’s hair to his cheek. “Feeling better?”

“Ye-” Miguel coughed, his voice cracking horribly “-yeah, thanks.”

“Need me to get you anything?” he asked, hands twitching in desperation for something, anything, to do to help. He was a man of action, there were few things he hated more than having to sit around panicking, not knowing what else to do.

Miguel relaxed a little more, shifting lightly like he was testing his ability to move. “I-in the wardrobe.”

Eli frowned a little, but followed the vague direction and reluctantly left Miguel’s side to open the wardrobe on the other side of the room. He knew what he was meant to be looking for the second he saw them.

Reaching out, his hand wrapped around the cool metal and he pulled the pair of crutches out of hiding. He wordlessly passed them to Miguel, who used them to lever himself into a sitting position on the bed before feeding his arms through the cuffs that sat just below his elbows and pushing himself to his feet. Hovering uselessly nearby, Hawk could only follow as Miguel manoeuvred out of the bedroom and started pacing with the crutches, walking in a large circle around the apartment.

“Are you sure you should be moving around this much?” Eli asked, fighting to keep the grimace off his face as he kept to the bedroom doorway, out of the way of his boyfriend’s restless movement, but still ready to jump in if he needed help.

Stride pausing for only a second to glance back at him before starting up again, Miguel nodded. “Yeah. If I stay in bed then it’ll just make the pain last longer, light exercise helps.”

He sounded very confident in that, like the knowledge came from experience.

“This happen often?”

“No, maybe once a month at most-” that was still pretty often as far as Eli was concerned “-last time was… six, maybe seven weeks ago now?”

Eyes following Miguel intently, Eli waited until his pace slowed down and his motion smoothed out before quietly asking, “It’s because of your back injury, isn’t it?”

Another short nod.

It wasn’t like he’d really needed the conformation anyway.

He gnawed lightly at his lip, attention split between keeping an eye on Miguel and his wandering memories drawing him back to a time that barely felt real anymore. It was a little strange to think about, but this was probably the most he had ever seen of how the injury had affected Miguel.

Sure, he’d visited him a few times when he was in the hospital, but that had been so soon after the accident that he had written it off as just a temporary hiccup in Miguel’s life, wilfully deluding himself into believing that he would be back to normal soon enough. It didn’t help that the next time he saw his friend again, after almost three months of avoiding him – justified to himself by pretending he was just giving Miguel the space he clearly wanted, after all it wasn’t like he’d asked to meet up either – he was already back on his feet and seemingly unaffected.

He only heard about the struggle for Miguel to get back up to speed with karate after the fact from Bert and even then hadn’t fully believed it. By the time Hawk was back training with the others, Miguel wasn’t that far off of the level he had been at before the injury. Like it had never even happened.

That illusion had been shattered by their match at the All-Valley.

Seeing Miguel crying in pain on the mats had turned his friend from the invincible idol of strength Hawk had built up in his head, to a boy who had been badly hurt and was likely never going to fully recover. And then Miguel had left before he could find the reality that lay somewhere between those two images.

Miguel, who was carefully manoeuvring around his apartment with well-practised motions. Who knew to keep painkillers in his bedside table and crutches nearby. Who had learned to live with his struggles and had a routine to follow when he had a flare-up.

“We… never really talked about it.”

Miguel stopped dead for a moment, glancing back at him over his shoulder before starting up his pacing again. “What is there to say at this point?”

What was there to say? Did it even matter after all this time?

“I’m sorry.” Yes, it mattered, because he had spent five years feeling guilty for avoiding it when he had the chance. “I wasn’t there for you enough after… after.”

Miguel shrugged, the motion barely interrupting his stride. “You were there plenty, I didn’t exactly reach out to you either at the time, and when we did speak you gave me exactly what I wanted,” he said it casually, but there was a strained edge to his voice.

It was probably wishful thinking to hope it was only because of the pain.

Coming to a careful stop by the dining table, Miguel reached to pull out one of the chairs, shifting that crutch to his other hand. “You were the only one who believed I’d be completely recovered one day, that hope… it helped keep me going during the worst times.”

But he wasn’t fully recovered. If he was he wouldn’t be needing to use both the table and his crutches to support himself as he shakily sat down.

He must've been able to read that thought in Eli’s face, because he quickly added, “I know I’m never going back to what I was, accepted that years ago, but at the time I needed just one person in my corner who had faith in me, who wouldn’t treat me like I was going to break at the slightest touch,” he said, wincing as he struggled to find a comfortable position. “You gave me that, I could be normal around you and I knew you weren’t secretly doubting me, or waiting for one slip-up so you could have an excuse to shut me out of my own life.”

Taking the seat opposite Miguel, Eli sighed and crossed his arms on the table, leaning into them heavily. “Still though, I should’ve been more supportive, I know you noticed that I always avoided bringing up the- y’know.”

“You can say it.” Dark eyes drilled into him intently, not quite a glare, but not the usual soft gaze he was used to from Miguel either. “The fall, the accident, whatever. I already told you; it’s not going to break me.”

Fingers digging into his arms roughly where they were crossed, he rushed to speak, “No, it’s not you, i-it’s me. I’m the one who can’t handle talking about it.”

He didn’t risk looking at Miguel, didn’t want to know what kind of expression he was making.

“I watched you fall. I was at the top of the stairs when it happened, I saw you…” He swallowed thickly, feeling like his throat was going to close up if he let himself dwell in that memory for too long. “I kept seeing it, that whole time you were in the coma and I didn’t know if you were going to live or die, I just couldn’t get the image of you hitting the-”

There was a faint noise from across the table.

When he glanced up he saw Miguel’s face twisted into something unreadable, uncertainty and shock and uneasiness all melding together into an almost nauseated mess.

Eli grimaced, dropping his head back down and closing his eyes tightly, though the image remained burned into the blackness behind his eyes. “Sorry, you probably don’t want to be reminded of that.”

“No, I mean-” there was a long sigh and a slow, steady tapping started up against the table “-I don’t remember the actual fall, there’s nothing to remind me of, it’s just weird hearing about someone else’s memory of it,” Miguel said, sounding a little strained but not actively upset, which was encouragement enough for Eli to open his eyes and look back at him.

The smile he found there was uncomfortable, but seemed honest. It made sense that Miguel didn’t remember much of it, for him it must’ve happened so fast he couldn’t even process it. And Eli was glad he didn’t have those memories, because they had haunted him ever since. “Still, I should stop-”

“You know those videos of the fall?”

Blinking at the sudden turn, Eli took a few seconds to recalibrate, nodding uncertainly.

Despite the best efforts of the school board, dozens of videos had been uploaded within minutes of the fight ending. They were quickly reported and none had stayed up for very long, but that didn’t stop them getting reuploaded every few days. He’d actually needed to take a break from his socials until after Miguel was out of the coma because every time he had to rapidly scroll past those clips he felt like he was going to snap his phone in two.

It shouldn’t be surprising that Miguel had known about them too, but it was. Somehow it just didn’t feel right knowing that his best friend had seen those videos posted by assholes who probably didn’t even know him, treating the worst moment of his life as some sick, edgy form of entertainment.

“When I was in hospital, I watched them. A lot.”

Eli literally gaped at his friend. It probably wasn’t an appropriate reaction, but trying to wrap his head around the thought process that would have led him to that point and failing… it was the only one he could muster.

“It was kind of obsessive actually, I’ve seen myself hit those stairs from basically every angle, to the point that it barely feels real anymore,” he said, sounding way too casual for what he was admitting to, though the rigid look on his face suggested that he knew how fucked-up it was. “Mom really freaked when she found out, threatened to take my phone until I promised her I’d stop.”

“Fuck man, that’s-”

“Really messed up?” Miguel gave him a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes, but he did manage a short laugh. “Yeah, it kinda was. Look, what I’m trying to say is that people have all sorts of reactions to things like that, so if you want to talk about yours, then it’s cool. I get it.”

He had to admit that thinking about Miguel’s unsettling coping mechanism was making him feel a little sick – he’d spent that same time trying to erase those images from his mind, while Miguel had apparently been actively seeking them out – but Eli wasn’t sure that his own way of dealing with that trauma was any better.

At least Miguel hadn’t been trying to hurt anyone else.

“I wish I had just talked to you about all that shit,” he said quietly, staring at the hand still tapping against the stained wood of the table and considering reaching out to grab hold of it before deciding against it, crossing his arms tighter instead, “instead of using you as an excuse to go off the rails.”

“Was I really the reason you did all that stuff? Going after Miyagi-Do? Breaking Demetri’s arm?” Miguel asked, thankfully sounding more curious than upset.

“You weren’t the only reason, but… mostly, yeah.”

Because there had been other things motivating his actions at that time, even if he didn’t piece it all together until years after the fact, thanks to a combination of therapy and some serious self-reflection.

Obviously there were his underlying anger issues that had driven him at the most extreme points, when his sense was completely drowned beneath the raging ocean of blood rushing in his ears and it felt like he was barely in control of his own body. But he didn’t like to use that as an excuse. There were plenty of times when he’d been completely lucid and known exactly what the outcome of his actions would be and gone ahead and done it anyway.

Another not-insignificant part of his actions had been due to some lingering resentment towards any reminders of his old life, his old self, of which Demetri was unfortunately the biggest by far. At the time he’d convinced himself that the only reason he’d gone as far as he had was because he was trying in his own impotent way to make up for what had happened to Miguel – and that was the biggest factor – but he couldn’t deny that there was a part of him that had hated how his former best friend had been acting, realised that there had been a lot wrong in their friendship for many years, even before he became Hawk.

They were each other’s only friend until Miguel came along, so he’d been willing to overlook the things Demetri did that had secretly eaten away at him; the constant negativity, the rejection of any of Eli’s interests that didn’t line up with his own and especially the way he often spoke on Eli’s behalf.

When he flipped the script, he’d finally found the will to push back against those behaviours, but instead of the change of heart he had been hoping for, it felt like Demetri doubled down on his worst attributes, only now his sniping and petty digs were targeted at Hawk instead of their bullies.

But they were still friends, he’d been such a huge part of his life that Eli couldn’t give him up. It was why he didn’t cut him off earlier, why he kept asking him to join Cobra Kai up until the point he went and threw his lot in with Miyagi-Do.

Revealing his biggest shame at Moon’s party had been the last straw that broke the part of Eli that still wanted his best friend back.

It didn’t justify breaking his Demetri’s arm. Neither did being upset about Miguel, or being fed toxic bullshit by Kreese, or his own uncontrollable anger issues and the fear they stemmed from. But, when he’d managed to get to a place where he recognised all the factors that had led to that moment and been able to sit down and actually explain them to his oldest friend, it had finally gotten them to a place where they could both begin to move on and build a new friendship that was all the stronger for it. Hopefully it would remain so.

If Demetri ever forgave him for what he was doing now that is.

When he turned his attention back to Miguel, he had a subdued expression on his face. “You had to have known that wasn’t what I wanted.”

He wanted to try and explain, but how could he? He barely understood it himself.

Everything he’d done since joining Cobra Kai had felt like it was because of Miguel. He’d thrown himself into training because it made his friend look at him with admiration. He’d leaned into the macho asshole persona because he was terrified of Miguel looking at him and remembering who he used to be. Who he feared he always would be, deep, deep down. Just some scrawny, pathetic nerd with a facial difference who hadn’t been able to go a day without having his precious little feelings hurt by assholes with no imagination and no decency.

‘Hawk’ had built himself around Eli like a shield, stamping him down and keeping anyone else from getting close enough to find out that he was only hidden, not gone.

And the person whose opinion mattered the most to him was Miguel, his friend, the boy who’d made him believe there might be hope for him in the first place. The boy he maybe loved. The boy he would have done anything for.

When it turned out that his quest for revenge hadn’t been what Miguel had wanted, something in him snapped. Afterwards he tried to convince himself he’d instead done everything for Cobra Kai, for Kreese, and if Miguel didn’t want to be a part of Cobra Kai anymore… then fine. Whatever. Eli was done being weak, being the victim.

He was Hawk now. Hawk didn’t have time for regrets.

Even so, he’d made a point of avoiding Miguel whenever tensions rose between their rival dojos, because on some level he had always known that he was lying to himself.

Because the entire time they were on opposite sides of the all-time stupidest war in history, he was still having those impossible fantasies where he and his friend crossed the line to become something more, and the Miguel he saw there was only ever gentle, soft, kind.

Just like he was in reality.

That contradiction probably would’ve torn him apart eventually if he’d stayed with the Cobras for much longer, luckily he’d managed to regain his self-control and something approaching morals before he’d gone too far to ever come back.

“I was pretty fucked up back then.” He almost laughed at his own understatement. “It’s not an excuse – and I shouldn’t have used you as one either, you never asked for any of that bullshit – but it’s the only explanation I have. I was just really, really scared that I was going to lose you, one way or another.”

And, given what had happened later, where they were right now… That fear wasn’t entirely unjustified, even if the cause and timing of that loss wasn’t what he had been expecting.

Eli sighed, digging his fingers harder into his arms. “I really am sorry though. Should’ve said it sooner.”

There was a long minute where neither of them spoke, Miguel seeming deep in thought and Eli not sure what more he could say. Eventually Miguel gave a single nod and stopped tapping against the table, reaching across it to gently lay his hand on Eli’s elbow instead. “Well, if we’re getting years-late apologies out of our systems,” he said softly, “then I’m sorry too.”

He blinked at him. “What? You never did anything that you need to apologise to me for.”

“Other than running away from home without a word?” The faint smile on his face did nothing to make his words feel any lighter, but he didn’t dwell on that topic, instead lifting his hand to carefully brush through Eli’s loose hair. “Cobra Kai’s attack-”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

Miguel didn’t look even remotely convinced. “It was my idea to humiliate them instead of fighting back and the attack on you was a direct result.”

“We all went along with that plan,” he said sharply, not willing to entertain any guilt from his boyfriend about this, “and that whole rivalry was basically twenty kids dancing around in a puddle of gasoline waving flamethrowers-” that at least got a little snort out of Miguel “-it was always going to escalate. Something would’ve happened to someone else at some point.”

“But it didn’t happen to someone else, it happened to you.” His fingers stroked the fading red strands gently, a painfully understanding look in his eyes. “You didn’t deserve it.”

At the time he would’ve immediately rejected that.

Of course it was his fault.

After all the shit he’d done without any real punishment outside of some harsh words from the other kids and Sensei Lawrence turning him into a punching bag for a day, he’d had some long overdue bad karma building up that he knew was going to come back to bite him one day. It just so happened to be that day in the tattoo studio.

But a large part of his therapy sessions since the karate war ended had been him rambling to his counsellor about the incredibly complex feelings he had about the attack, and she had eventually helped him understand that – whatever he thought he deserved – his trauma didn’t make up for his past actions. It was genuinely apologising and making an effort to be better that did that.

“No, I didn’t deserve it,” he said, pulling Miguel’s hand away from his hair and entwining their fingers together, “but I never blamed you for it either.”

Though, for all that Miguel seemed to have worked through his feelings about the fall and his injury enough to accept what had happened, it seemed he hadn’t done the same for this incident. “If I had just found another way out of that situation… if you weren’t attacked, the dojos might not have split, we would’ve gone into the All-Valley as one team, we would’ve won, Johnny might not have-” he cut himself off abruptly, gripping Eli’s hand tightly. “I might never have left home, if- if I just hadn’t…”

“Hey.” Eli waited until Miguel looked up at him before continuing, “Even if you’re right and all that did change, it wouldn’t have fixed the reasons you left in the first place.” He hated to admit it, but Miguel just hadn’t been happy at that time.

Winning the tournament wouldn’t have fixed that. Beating Cobra Kai wouldn’t have made his issues with Robby and Johnny magically disappear. It wouldn’t have made the ache of never knowing his real father go away. Maybe he would’ve come down with a better plan, maybe he would have brought someone else with him, maybe he wouldn’t be in as bad a situation as he was right now. Or maybe nothing would have changed at all. Either way, he was torturing himself with what-ifs for nothing.

They weren’t going to change the past, so they would just have to make the most of the present they had.

“You don’t need to apologise, the only people I wanted to hear sorry from have already said it.” In an incredibly uncomfortable conversation with Robby and Tory he hoped never to have to repeat, even if it had paved the way to them becoming friends later.

Miguel didn’t look entirely convinced – he hadn’t expected him to – but he did give a slow nod. “Ok,” he said, giving Eli’s hand one last squeeze before pulling it away, wincing slightly as he shifted in his seat.

“Back still hurting?” Eli asked, already knowing the answer.

A shrug was attempted, but Miguel aborted the movement halfway through with a slight hiss. “It’ll be hurting all day, but it’s fine, nothing I’m not used to.”

Like that made him feel any better. “Anything you need me to do?”

“I’m not helpless, I can still do stuff by myself,” Miguel said, thankfully not sounding as irritated as he sometimes did when his abilities were called into question, but only because he sounded tired instead. He’d always been like that, always taking on more than he needed to, just to prove that he could.

It was far from Miguel’s worst trait, but for someone like Eli – someone who valued action over words – it was frustrating not being given even the opportunity to help.

“Miguel, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, I know you can take care of yourself, but I want to help you,” he said quietly, dragging his chair around the table so he could sit directly in front of his boyfriend. “Let me take some of the burden off your back-” he placed careful hands just above Miguel’s knees, squeezing them lightly “-it’ll help make me stronger too.”

He wasn’t expecting to see such wide-eyed awe in response to that, and in any other situation he might’ve made fun of him for it, but before that temptation overtook him, Miguel’s mouth twisted in a way that was very clearly trying to suppress a smirk.

Eli frowned, which only seemed to amuse Miguel more. “What’s that look for?” he demanded.

“Nothing, I just never realised you could be such a poet, cielo.”

Scoffing, he rolled his eyes and leaned back into the chair, releasing Miguel’s legs to cross his arms across his chest and glare into the corner of the room. Mostly to try and hide the red flush he was absolutely certain was on his cheeks. “Fuck off.”

Not even bothering to hold back his laughter at this point, Miguel tugged at his arms until he relented and leaned forward to accept a too-brief apology kiss. “If you really wanna help,” Miguel said as they broke apart, letting some of the strain fall back into his voice, “a massage would do me some good, I can probably find some tutorial videos for you.”

He already felt himself lighting up with the possibility of being able to do something proactive and almost tipped his chair back in his haste to stand up. “I can do that.”

“Don’t get too excited, it’s not that kind of massage,” Miguel said, grin turning wicked.

Blushing furiously, Eli lightly smacked his arm. “My mind’s not that deep in the gutter, asshole-” he held out his hand, offering to help pull Miguel to his feet “-now c’mon, you want my help or not?”

It wasn’t much, but it was something he could do for Miguel that would ease his burden, even if just a little. He still had so much to make up for, he’d take any opportunity to help he could get.

---

Translations:

^[146] Hey, brat! ^{[return to text]}

^[147] You broke my streak Mig- ^{[return to text]}

^[148] Fuck you, asshol- ^{[return to text]}

^[149] Is that you, Miguel? ^{[return to text]}

^[150] It’s good to see you looking well! ^{[return to text]}

^[151] You too Maria, sorry for not visiting much lately ^{[return to text]}

^[152] I understand, I’ve tried telling Hector he asks too much of you, but… ^{[return to text]}

^[153] Thanks, but I’m fine, please don’t do anything unnecessary ^{[return to text]}

^[154] You remember Hawk? ^{[return to text]}

^[155] Of course. Luis was asking a lot of questions about you after you left, I’m sure he’s excited to see you again- ^{[return to text]}

^[156] -he was very impressed with your hair ^{[return to text]}

^[157] Really? ^{[return to text]}

^[158] No problem ^[return]

^[159] Something smells delicious! ^{[return to text]}

^[160] My love, welcome home ^{[return to text]}

^[161] I wasn’t expecting you home early today ^{[return to text]}

^[162] Things have been going well lately, what better way to celebrate than to spend time with my beautiful family ^{[return to text]}

^[163] It’s been far too long since we were all together, how about a big family dinner? ^{[return to text]}

^[164] I already have birria de res cooking, but for this many people… ^{[return to text]}

^[165] I can make fideo seco, that was always your favourite, Luis ^{[return to text]}

^[166] No, no, you two are always doing too much for me, you should relax- ^{[return to text]}

^[167] I think I understand you better now ^{[return to text]}

^[168] God, he’s a moron ^{[return to text]}

^[169] You sure know how to worry a guy, Mig, barely heard from you lately ^{[return to text]}

^[170] Sorry, I… there was a lot going on ^{[return to text]}

^[171] You’ve always got shit going on ^{[return to text]}

^[172] Boyfriends ^{[return to text]}

^[173] Congrats ^{[return to text]}

^[174] Please ^{[return to text]}

^[175] Let me see that pretty face ^{[return to text]}

Chapter Text

---

It felt a little surreal coming back here again, especially knowing that, for once, he didn’t have to worry about hiding or chasing after Miguel.

“So, I finally get my rematch.”

The thudding club track playing in El Hoyo Verde’s main bar filtered through to the changing area, where Miguel was already giving the man who’d spoken an apologetic grin. “Hey, Cris. Yeah, sorry about dropping out at the last minute before, but I’m looking forwards to this fight.”

Cristopher snorted, but held out a fist which Miguel eagerly bumped his own against. “You sure you’re up to it? Tadeo told me last week was the first time you’ve been able to hang out with him in over a month because of your injuries.”

“Uh-” Miguel coughed and glanced at Eli before rather pointedly looking away “-yeah. They were very… distracting.”

It was difficult to keep a straight face, but when the man followed Miguel’s gaze to Eli he just shrugged and tried to keep the smug grin he could feel tugging at his lips off his face. He was pretty distracting, if he said so himself. Cris did keep staring at him for several seconds longer than was comfortable, a strange look on his face; Eli had to wonder if he recognised him as the guy who’d been digging for info on Miguel several weeks ago now.

If he did, he didn’t comment on it, shaking his head and telling Miguel he was looking forwards to their match before ducking back out into the bar to prepare.

As soon as he left, Miguel’s smile dropped, just a little.

Eli sat next to him on the bench, nudging their elbows together lightly. It wasn’t hard to guess what had his boyfriend in a low mood. “C’mon, don’t worry about the future for now, you just gotta go out and give it the best you can tonight, right?”

“Right.”

He winced. Yeah, there wasn’t going to be any getting through to him right now.

At the dinner with Maria, Luis and Hector a few days ago, Miguel had floated the idea of getting back into his official matches now that he was fully recovered, an idea which Hector had been all for. With the heavy insinuation that it would likely be one of Miguel’s last.

He had other things to be focusing on, MMA was a distraction he couldn’t afford.

It hadn’t been explicitly stated that he wanted Miguel to retire from his official fighting career, but it didn’t really need to be.

“Hey.” Leaning more into Miguel’s side – taking advantage while they had the room to themselves – he wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed him against his side, hoping it showed that he understood how Miguel must be feeling right now. “I know it sucks, I know you wanted to get back to this, but nothing’s set in stone yet. Just because it’s what your dad wants, that doesn’t mean this has to be your last match here.”

The weak smile he got in return was probably about as much as he could’ve hoped for. “Thanks.”

His own expression was just as strained, but he tried to give as authentic a grin as he could as he lightly shook Miguel’s shoulder and reluctantly pulled away from him. “No problem, now get out there and kick some ass.”

For once he was allowed to watch one of Miguel’s matches up-close, and for once he was actually a little excited about it, because at least here the risk was significantly lessened. Not that there was no risk – no fight was ever completely safe – but at least everyone here knew where the line was and there were refs around who would make sure no one stepped over it.

Miguel nodded along to his coach’s tactical briefing of his opponent’s strengths and weaknesses, while the old man checked over the fit of his gloves one last time. He hit his student with a hard look before sighing and saying in his soft, quiet voice, “No hagas que me arrepienta de haber aceptado esto, Miguel.”^[176]

“No te preocupes, Ossi, estaré bien,”^[177] Miguel said with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes.

At the ringside they were forced to separate, though Eli was given permission to watch with Ossi from just outside the cage, about as close as it was possible to be without climbing inside.

Once the announcers finished their usual over-energetic pre-match hype and gloves were tapped, the two fighters launched into action, though not with the kind of aggression Eli was used to seeing from his boyfriend’s matches.

Apparently Cris favoured grappling even more than Miguel did, Ossi had mentioned that he started in BJJ before switching to MMA in his little pre-match strategy meeting and, seeing the way he fought, that made complete sense. He was clearly avoiding getting into a slugfest, more concerned with keeping his distance and waiting for an opening.

Eli suspected that he normally wouldn’t have gotten a chance to get in close enough to turn it into a ground match. Miguel might prefer grappling these days but he was also a strong striker and could easily alter his approach to best frustrate his opponent.

But Miguel wasn’t fighting like he normally did.

A wide, sloppy hook was easily ducked under, Cris dropping to one knee and launching himself at Miguel’s leading leg, sweeping himself to the side until his upper body was pressed against him, arms firmly wrapped around Miguel's knee. As Miguel automatically tried to sprawl, his opponent pushed himself from his crouching position, knocking Miguel off-balance and, with a quick twist, threw him to the ground.

He didn’t stay on his back for long, quickly recovering and wrapping both his legs around one of Cristopher’s, locking his ankles together and dragging him down until he was brought to his knees. But, even trapped in Miguel’s half-guard, he didn’t hesitate to start looking for an out, pushing on his shoulder to try and shove Miguel from his side onto his back, which would leave him more vulnerable.

It didn’t work, Miguel rolled even further inwards to keep his position, but at the same time, Cris kicked his free leg over the top of Miguel’s body, grabbing his knee and breaking out of his guard as he did so.

Hugging the captured leg tight against his chest, one arm trapping Miguel’s ankle and the other hand catching his toes, Cris locked him into a picture-perfect kneebar.

Eli winced as he saw the pressure already being put onto his boyfriend’s leg, his opponent’s hips pushing against it to over-extend his knee. From the hard clench of his jaw, it was obvious that Miguel was in a lot of pain, but he still attempted to break the hold, pushing his free foot against the back of Cris’ leg to force it away. The man only locked his ankles together tighter, resisting the escape and pushing even harder against Miguel’s trapped knee.

Even over the chaotic noise of the crowd and the thudding of music, Eli heard the agonised cry Miguel let escape.

But he wasn’t tapping out. And the look on his face suggested it wasn’t because he was determined to win, it was because he was terrified to lose.

Did he even remember where he was right now?

By this point Eli was clenching his fists so hard that he was losing feeling in his hands, but he didn’t care about that, too focused on the extreme bend to Miguel’s leg.

Even Cristopher looked unsettled, shifting the hand holding Miguel’s toes in place down to his heel. To a casual observer it might’ve seemed like he was trying to find a better grip against Miguel’s attempts to escape, but Eli had been shown this particular hold by Miguel once. Cris’ hand had been in the textbook position, moving it had weakened the lock and Miguel immediately took advantage, wriggling himself free and jumping back to his feet.

But Eli couldn’t help noticing the uncomfortable expression on his opponent’s face as he slowly pushed himself up, eyeing Miguel warily.

That hadn’t been an accident.

Cristopher had realised that Miguel wasn’t going to submit, even when his knee was on the verge of being dislocated or broken, and he’d deliberately given him a way to escape the hold to stop that from happening. It was good that the man had the awareness to see what was happening and didn’t want to do any serious damage, even if it would easily win him the match, but Eli couldn’t help thinking what might’ve happened if Miguel was up against another fighter, one not so attentive to his opponent’s wellbeing.

He didn’t have long to worry before Miguel was moving again, darting in for a series of quick strikes that Cris managed to avoid most of – except for one heavy kick landing against his midsection – but still ended with him backed up against the cage.

The next punch Miguel threw bounced off the wire wall where his opponent’s head had been only a second earlier as Cris ducked down and launched his upper body into a tackle, arms wrapping tightly around Miguel’s chest to hold him in place. They wrestled with each other briefly, before Miguel drew his elbow up and slammed it straight down against the man’s shoulder, then readied for a second strike.

Or he would have, if the ref hadn’t leapt between them to block the hit from making contact.

“¡Separaos!”^[178] the man shouted, shoving at both men until they finally released from their tangle and staggered apart, then he turned back to face Miguel. “Codazo de doce a seis, eso es falta, le desconto dos puntos.”^[179]

Miguel stared at him, looking more confused than anything else, before he glanced over to where Cristopher was being checked over by one of the officials and he went pale.

Shit, he really had forgotten where he was, and who he was fighting against.

There was a frustrated sigh from next to Eli as Ossi muttered something under his breath that was impossible to make out over the excited chaos of the crowd cheering and booing the ref’s call in equal measure.

Once it was decided that both fighters were ok to continue, the match resumed, though neither Miguel nor Cris were fighting with anything near the same level of intensity they had been before.

By the time the first round came to an anti-climatic end and Miguel was shuffling back over to his corner, he already looked shattered.

“¿Qué sucede contigo?”^[180] Ossi didn’t give him a second to speak, already pressing a water bottle into his student’s hand and continuing his rant even as he urged Miguel to drink, “Esa falta no debería haber ocurrido. Tienes suerte de no haber apuntado correctamente, si le hubieras golpeado en la nuca habrías sido descalificado.”^[181] The old man hadn’t raised his voice at all, but the fury in it was enough to lift it above the loud background din of the bar.

But, Miguel didn’t even seem to hear it, fingers tapping at the bottle in his hands in a random, arhythmic pattern.

“Miguel?” Still no response other than a brief, vulnerable glance up. “Eso es todo, lo estoy llamando. Hector tenía razón, no deberías estar peleando-”^[182]

The gloved hand gripping at his wrist halted Ossi in his steps. Miguel didn’t seem to have a plan for what to do next, but his trembling grip didn’t loosen as he coughed out, “N-no, todavía puedo- Seré más cuidadoso, lo prometo.”^[183]

Staring each other down for a long moment – the coach’s gaze hard and firm, Miguel’s desperate and pleading – Ossi was the first to break, rubbing a hand across his eyes and crouching back in front of his fighter again. “Él te supera en la lucha, ni siquiera intentes convertir esto en un combate terrestre, eres el mejor delantero, así que concéntrate en eso. Pero mantén tus ataques legales.”^[184]

Miguel thanked him, before the announcer calling for the second round to start pulled his attention back to his opponent.

He still looked pretty unsettled, mouthing something to Miguel that Eli couldn’t hear from this distance, but he only got a slight nod in response before the match resumed.

Neither of them attacked for several moments, both just circling around each other warily, only a few token, distance-judging swipes thrown out as they each waited for the other to make the first move.

It was only when the ref began calling them on their timidity that Miguel finally attempted a real attack, stepping in just close enough to throw a forceful right hook aimed directly at his opponent’s head. But, before it could make contact, Miguel visibly flinched and his fist’s directory swerved abruptly to land against Cris’ shoulder instead.

He was so focused on not going too far that now he was actively hindering himself, fighting even worse than he had been in the first round when blind panic had been controlling every one of his actions. He had more control over himself this time, but it still wasn’t doing him any favours.

Each attack he made was weakened by his own hesitation, blows landing with barely any force, Cris easily stepping out of the path of kicks that should’ve been coming out lightning-fast.

When a hand grabbed Miguel’s wrist and jerked him forward, Cris catching his arm as he twisted behind Miguel and pushed his shoulder against the back of Miguel’s, the full weight of his lanky body enough to throw them both to the ground, he barely even reacted.

The brief scramble as they both fought for a dominant position was over before Eli could even register what had happened, and Miguel had never looked more vulnerable in any official match Eli had seen him fight. Flat on his back, Cris mounting him and immediately pinning one arm to the mat, while wrapped his other arm tight around his neck, pressing Miguel’s head against his chest in a way that severely restricted his movement. And he was trying to escape, but his opponent seemed to have complete control over his body as he gradually shifted himself to sit further up Miguel’s torso, until he could hook his legs around his neck in a tight triangle choke.

Even with no way to escape, Miguel’s free hand was still swiping at Cris, he even started trying to claw at his arm at one point and Eli suspected it was only because of his exhaustion as he was slowly deprived of oxygen that he wasn’t successfully drawing blood.

And he still wasn’t submitting. His eyes were starting to glaze over and yet they still held that same wild fear that was usually only brought out when Hector was involved.

When the ref finally stepped in, shoving his hands between the two fighters and calling the match, Eli was relieved, even if it meant Miguel lost the fight.

He’d already lost so much more than that.

Hector had ruined fighting for Miguel. All fighting. Even the kind he had once taken joy in.

Were they ever going to be able to spar like they once had? Was Eli ever going to get that rematch he was owed and, if he did, were they going to be able to enjoy it, or was he going to be constantly worrying about setting Miguel down a path where he forgot where he was, who he was with, that he didn’t need to fight like his life depended on it.

“¡Ganando por sumisión técnica, Cristopher Estrada finalmente rompe la racha de dieciocho partidos de La Anaconda!”^[185]

Ignoring the crowd going wild, the new champion crouched next to his fallen opponent to check on him, along with the several officials who’d rushed into the cage to assess the damage. Eli had to clench his fists to restrain himself from going and doing the same, though the second Miguel was up on his feet again and being guided back out he was at his side in a second, offering a supportive shoulder to lean on that Miguel accepted with a weak smile.

At least he was recovering quickly, his breathing returning to a normal rate, his eyes losing that confused glaze and looking more alert and awake. And as the ringside medic gave him a brief check over it became clear that he wasn’t injured at all, which was enough for Eli to breathe more easily.

Miguel was clearly only half paying attention to the worried fussing of his coach however, his pinched frown suggesting that he was pretty locked up in his own thoughts.

“You good?” Eli asked quietly, hating himself for how insufficient it was.

But what else could he say right now?

He got a forced smile in response and Miguel leaned a little bit more weight into him as he mumbled, “About as good as I can be.”

Eli opened his mouth to speak again, but nothing came out.

He could offer his consolations, but he knew Miguel wasn’t upset just because he’d lost a match, and in the middle of an MMA club surrounded by so many people wasn’t the place to be discussing what really had him in such a weird mood.

Luckily for him, he didn’t get long to struggle to think of what to say, Miguel was already looking up and calling out to someone else.

“Good match Cris,” he said, voice light and cheerful in a way that wasn’t particularly convincing to anyone, judging from the looks on all the faces around them, “I’m glad you’re the one I get to pass the championship title onto, you’ve earned it.”

Cris just glared at him, crossing his long arms and saying with a slight growl, “Doesn’t feel good to win against someone who isn’t in top condition.”

“Sorry, I guess those recent injuries have taken more out of me than I realised.” Miguel’s hand unconsciously drifted down to rub at the knee that had only recovered a few weeks ago. It couldn’t be feeling great right now, the kneebar he’d been caught in must’ve strained it, even if Cris had been kind enough to let him get away without re-breaking it.

Though Eli also knew that wasn’t the real reason he’d been so out of it during the fight, or at least it wasn’t the main reason. And it crushed him seeing his partner grappling with the realisation that he might not be able to fight the way he once had anymore.

“Maybe retirement isn’t such a bad idea,” Miguel said with a soft sigh.

All three of them – Eli, Cris and Ossi – gaped at him. Eli in particular felt like he’d just been punched in the chest and couldn’t help briefly tightening the grip of his hand on Miguel’s shoulder.

He didn’t want to think that he was right, because that meant Miguel was basically giving up on ever getting back to a healthy place where he could compete without completely losing himself in the fear Hector had trained into him. But there was definitely no way that he was going to get that place as long as his father was still a part of his life.

Miguel might not like it, but they were going to have to seriously think about what their next steps were going to be, because they couldn’t keep living in denial forever. No matter how blissful Miguel could sometimes make that feel.

But…

He sighed at the look on Miguel’s face, and gave him as encouraging a smile as he could.

Not tonight. Not when his boyfriend was already grieving the loss of something that meant so much to him. He could wait just a little longer.

---

Eli squeezed carefully, feeling the water leeching into the towel as he did, before pulling it away and dropping it back on its hook on the wall. Running a hand through his slightly damp hair, he decided it was about as dry as it was going to get without a hairdryer.

He had to admit, as much as he loved the hawk, it was always kind of a relief to wash it out. With the weight of copious amounts of product removed he no longer felt that very subtle strain against his scalp, and it was nice not having to worry about how he moved his head in case his spikes bashed into something or someone. He did wish it didn’t fall into his face so much though, the only solution he’d found to that was the dreaded manbun which… No.

Just no.

Robby could pull that off. Eli couldn’t.

Giving himself one last quick glance in the mirror – making a mental note that he needed to ask Miguel if he had any clippers hidden away somewhere, the sides were getting kinda untidy – he exited and headed straight for the bedroom.

Miguel looked up from his phone as he entered, automatically giving him that little smile that did worrying things to Eli’s heartrate.

He tried to ignore it as he stopped at the foot of the bed and stared at the spot that was definitely missing something. Frowning deeply, Eli checked the floor, then turned to scan the other various surfaces in the room, he was about to move to open the wardrobe when a thick arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him back.

“What’s up, cielo?” Miguel asked, shuffling to the end of the bed so he could drag Hawk closer and press his lips to his spine.

“I thought I left a change of clothes out on the bed,” he said, trying and failing not to shudder at the soft kisses being peppered on his skin.

Eli glanced over his shoulder to get a better look at his boyfriend, only to find him already grinning up at him.

“Hmm, dunno what could’ve happened to them-” wow, he wasn’t even trying to sound convincing “-such a shame, I guess you’ll just have to stay like this,” he said, as his warm hand skirted the edge of the towel still wrapped around Eli’s hips.

Rolling his eyes, he leaned back into Miguel, enjoying his playful touches. “Uh-huh, I’m sure you’re real broken up about it.”

“I mean I am kinda disappointed that you haven’t ditched the towel yet.”

He could feel the fingers working their way closer to the tucked edge that was the only thing keeping him covered and – already sensing where this was going but not wanting to make it that easy – grabbed the hand and pulled it away from his waist. By the time Miguel let out his noise of complaint, Eli had already spun around and pushed him onto his back, hovering above him as he pressed his hand against his stomach where his tank top had ridden up.

If Miguel kept looking at him like that he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back for long, so he leaned down to kiss that spot just behind his ear, chuckling at the tiny moan his boyfriend couldn’t quite bite back.

“Not fair if you’re the only one getting the show,” he mumbled, slowly dragging his hand further up to Miguel’s chest, pulling the dark fabric covering it with him, “how about we make things more even?”

Before he could kiss that sensitive spot again, Miguel’s hand was tangling in his hair and dragging him across to his lips instead. A more than acceptable substitute, Eli decided, as a tongue demandingly worked its way into his mouth. This did make it impossible to actually strip Miguel like he’d been intending, but he was enjoying it too much to break their kiss and, in the meantime, he could keep massaging the solid muscles below him.

It was getting difficult to ignore the complaints of his back at the awkward position he was in though; leaning over his boyfriend, one knee resting on the mattress, hands pressing into Miguel’s stomach.

Giving Miguel one last deep kiss, he broke apart from him, crawling so he could actually sit on the bed, resting against the headboard and grabbing Miguel’s arm to tug him back up with him. He also took the opportunity while their lips weren’t attached to actually remove his – completely unnecessary – top and began running his hands reverently across the broad chest and shoulders now available to him.

Miguel didn’t wait around to rejoin their lips, already shifting up next to Eli and once again digging a hand into his loose hair, stroking through it in a way that sent pleasant tingles right down his spine. They quickly settled into a pace that was going to escalate fast, one way or another, but he needed to ask something before they did.

Pulling back a little, he said with a thick voice, “Hey, Mi-”

He cut himself off with a groan when a burning hot hand landed on his knee, slithering under the towel he was still wearing, gliding along his thigh and squeezing firm muscle along the way.

His head falling back only gave Miguel more access to his neck, which he immediately took advantage of, biting and sucking just hard enough that Eli knew he was going to leave marks behind.

“Hey, do you-” he reluctantly pushed Miguel away, because, as much as he was enjoying the lips against his neck, they were making it very difficult to concentrate “-do you wanna try something different?”

As soon as those words were out of his mouth, Miguel’s childish pout from being pushed away turned into an excited grin. “You got something in mind?” he asked, leaning closer but managing to restrain himself from kissing Hawk again, even if the way his eyes kept darting to his lips suggested that he really wanted to.

Coughing around the sudden lump in his throat, Eli chewed on his lower lip as he tried to think of how best to word the idea that had been in his head for a few weeks now.

It had felt easy enough to bring up with Miguel trying to devour his neck, but now that he didn’t have that distraction it was feeling a lot more daunting. “I was just thinking…” he started, before needing to turn his head away to stare at the window – even if the curtains were drawn so he couldn’t actually see anything outside it – just to get some relief from his boyfriend’s burning, curious eyes.

“You were thinking?” Miguel prompted after several seconds without an end to that sentence.

Stop being a pussy, just fucking say it. Taking a deep breath, he blurted out, “Maybe we could try, uh, switching roles?”

He glanced back just in time to catch Miguel blinking in surprise at him. “Oh.”

That didn’t seem like a promising reaction. “Do you… not like topping?” he asked, looking away again, wishing he could go and dunk his head in ice to leech the flaming heat from his cheeks.

“No, no, I do, I mean, I like both, I just-” fingers pressed firmly against his jaw and forced him to turn back to face Miguel “-do you have any experience with that kind of thing? Like, even just experimenting by yourself?”

Unable to hide his blush anymore, Eli could only hope that his embarrassment wasn’t too obvious in the uncomfortable twist to his lips. “No.”

The thought had occasionally crossed his mind, but shame and fear had stopped him from ever working up the guts to try and figure it out himself and the sheer mortification at the idea of actually going to the internet and searching ‘how to do anal’ had always stopped him from doing the kind of research that might’ve made him more comfortable with experimenting. Moon had once floated the idea at him back when they were still dating, and been immediately and vocally shut down in what he would readily admit now was an overreaction, but he hadn’t been as comfortable in his own masculinity back then.

Miguel smiled at him, not looking at all surprised at his lack of experience, before releasing his jaw and sitting back a little, quietly saying, “It might be an idea to try that first then, we can try it together later.”

“C’mon man, I can handle it, I’m not a pussy,” Hawk snapped, grabbing Miguel by the hips and dragging him closer again.

A single dark eyebrow was raised at him. “Yeah, see, that shit right there is why I’m reluctant.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That attitude isn’t what you want going into your first time,” Miguel said, sighing and rubbing a hand across his face, “look, I’m not trying to scare you off it or anything, when it’s good it’s really good, but it can go bad easily when you’re still new to it. Hell, it can go bad even when you’re not new if you’re reckless.”

He frowned, trying to not let his temper get the better of him and actually think about what Miguel was saying, because it did make sense. “Ok, I get that, but it’s gotta be better to have someone else with you who knows what they’re doing than just trying to figure it out by yourself.”

Miguel looked absolutely miserable. “It’s… different with a partner. You don’t want to let them down, or upset them if you’re not into what they’re doing,” he said quietly, gaze fixed on the mattress below them and hands fidgeting with the sheets. “Just speaking from experience, going from zero to a hundred doesn’t really work out that great, even with an attentive partner.”

With how open and confident he usually was when talking about sex, it hadn’t occurred to Eli that Miguel might’ve had some not-so-great experiences in the past.

It at least didn’t seem to be anything extreme, he definitely looked more uncomfortable than genuinely upset, but still, Hawk was feeling the need to dig for more. If only to find out exactly how pissed off he should feel on Miguel’s behalf. “Tell me about it?”

“You really want to hear me talk about sleeping with my ex?” Miguel asked incredulously.

No, he didn’t, but he did want Miguel to be able to vent about his shit more. “I already can’t get Tadeo to shut up about it, pretty sure he’d tell me himself if I asked.”

“I-” Miguel halted, then rolled off of Eli and moved to sit next to him instead, leaning against the headboard and dropping his head back against it with a soft thud. “My first time wasn’t with Tadeo.”

“Oh.”

He probably shouldn’t be surprised hearing that Miguel had had other partners, honestly he would have been more surprised if he somehow hadn’t caught anyone’s attention in the time they’d been apart, but he hadn’t exactly wanted to think too hard about it either. “How many people have you dated since coming here?”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Miguel looked up at the ceiling, counting on his fingers as he rattled off a list of names, “Ed, Tadeo, Hannah, Karina… Tadeo, Jade… Tadeo again…”

Hawk could only imagine the kind of expression he was making – Miguel was certainly avoiding meeting his stare – but he tried reminding himself that he’d asked for this. It wasn’t fair to get pissed off at getting an honest answer to his question.

And it made a certain kind of sense; Miguel had never been someone who’d done well being single, even back when they were teens. Between his pretty desperate first go around with Sam, moping for months afterwards before stumbling into an ill-advised rebound with Tory and then leaping back into Sam’s arms the second she snapped her fingers… Miguel just really didn’t like being single.

“Things with Tadeo were never very serious though, more friends with benefits, the only time we actually dated was after I broke up with Karina and even that barely lasted three months before he wanted to go back to being friends.” He shifted again, bringing his knees closer to his chest and loosely wrapping his arms around them. “I liked them all,” he said, “Karina I liked a lot, but… the kind of life I’m in, it didn’t feel right to pursue anything too serious with anyone.”

Eli frowned, curling in on himself a little as he asked, “What about me?”

“You’ve basically forced yourself into all the shit I’ve tried to keep my other partners away from, what’d be the point in denying myself this now?” Miguel’s hand sought out his and entwined their fingers, pulling Eli’s gaze back to meet his smile. “What about you, is there a trail of broken hearts back home I should be worried about?”

“No.”

Miguel nudged their shoulders together. “What, not one person asked you out the entire time I’ve been here? I don’t believe that.”

He shrugged casually, but could feel his face pulling into a tight frown. “I got back with Moon again at the all-valley, but that didn’t last long once we went to different colleges, after that I had two other girlfriends. Nothing serious, don’t think either relationship lasted longer than six weeks.”

“Never dated another guy before?”

Shaking his head, Eli let a tiny smile creep onto his face as he said, “Nah, you were my first serious guy crush, that’s kind of a hard standard for anyone else to live up to.”

Miguel leaned over to better grin up at him. “Wow, that’s kinda sappy.”

“I don’t wanna hear that from you of all people,” he said, unable to stop himself from laughing at the wounded gasp Miguel gave in response, before he schooled his expression into something more serious as he realised that he was probably going to need to be the one to drag this conversation back to where it had started. “So, your first time was with this… Ed guy then?”

The speed at which Miguel’s expression soured was almost impressive.

Groaning, he sat up properly, re-crossing his arms across his knees. “Look, if you really want to hear about it I’ll tell you, but there’s not much of a story.”

“Only if you’re ok talking about it,” he said, shuffling closer to his boyfriend so that he could drape an arm across his shoulders.

Miguel shrugged, but leaned into him in return. “Sure, I got over him years ago.”

“Still can’t believe you actually dated a guy called Ed.”

He didn’t need to look to know Miguel was rolling his eyes. “Eduardo. I know, like, five of them, gotta differentiate them somehow. He was my first boyfriend, first guy who ever took any interest in me at all really-”

“Hey.”

“-ok, first guy who made it known that he was interested in me,” Miguel said, elbowing him lightly in the ribs.

He supposed that was fair.

“I’d been here for a while when we first met – just over a year I think? – and I was way too excited, I’d known I was bi for ages, but I didn’t think that I was ever actually going to have the chance to date another guy, but he was really upfront and confident and…” He coughed, pointedly looking away. “Older. Quite a lot older.”

Eli narrowed his eyes. He already had a feeling where this was going. “How much older, exactly?”

“Uh, about nine years.” If they’d met a year after Miguel left then he would’ve been eighteen or nineteen at the time, which would’ve made this guy about twenty-eight.

Fucking hell, Miguel really knew how to pick them.

“In his defence I was lying about my age at the time, the MMA promotion I was in had a minimum age requirement of twenty-one and since Dad was having documents forged anyway he took the liberty of altering my date of birth. As far as the Mexican government’s concerned I’m actually twenty-five right now.”

“That’s still-” Eli groaned and tried to bite back the need to share his opinion. Obviously Miguel knew it was bad, else he wouldn’t have been so reluctant to admit to any of this in the first place. But hearing it was setting off several alarms in his head. “Did he… pressure you?”

“Jesus, no,” Miguel said, voice turning sharp and brittle as he shrugged Eli away, though it was only to turn around and face him better. “Look, I know how it sounds and in retrospect the age gap was way too big – there’s a reason we didn’t work out – but Ed was never anything but a gentleman when it came to sex. He knew I was inexperienced in general, and specifically with guys, so he let me set the pace with that stuff.”

That didn’t make him feel that much better, but at least things weren’t as bad as he’d been dreading for a minute there.

“We’d already messed around a little and I’d topped him a few times before I asked to try bottoming, but I was an idiot nineteen-year-old dating someone well out of his league, I felt like I had something to prove, that I wasn’t a little kid who couldn’t take it. That I wasn’t made of glass.”

Eli couldn’t help the tiny noise that escaped him. Mostly because those words almost exactly matched the ones that had been floating around in his head when he’d first made this suggestion to Miguel.

His distress might’ve been taken the wrong way though, because Miguel was quick to bury his face in his hands and groan in frustration. “Fuck, I’m making it sound worse than it was. He didn’t actually hurt me that much, it wasn’t excruciatingly painful or anything like that, just… uncomfortable, except I didn’t know what it was supposed to feel like and didn’t know how to tell him that things didn’t feel right. I was just terrified that if I messed this one thing up that was going to be it for us.”

It was insane to be hearing these things from Miguel, thoughts that were so painfully familiar, yet didn’t fit the image of him that Eli had spent so long building up in his head. Another crack in the pedestal he’d once so reverently placed Miguel upon, without considering that he was equally as human as Eli himself.

Seeing this side of him wasn’t bad though, if anything it only made Eli fall a little deeper. Now he was able to reach up and help Miguel down from that unreachable place, without the fear that he was tainting something perfect.

He ran a hand through long, dark hair, offering a weak smile when Miguel finally looked up at him.

Apparently that was enough to calm him down. After taking a slow, deep breath, Miguel continued with a weak laugh, “Turns out I was kinda right, we did break up that night.”

“Seriously?” Somehow, this man Eli had never even met had shot right to the top of the list of guys he would like to beat the shit out of on his boyfriend’s behalf, surpassed only by Hector and Saul. “This asshole actually broke up with you because he hurt you during sex?”

Miguel’s chuckle was only half amused, the other half was pure embarrassment. “No, when he realised what was going on he stopped immediately and ranted to me about the importance of open communication in a sexual relationship for, like, an hour. We were actually on our way to making up when I admitted I’d been lying about my age, y’know, because we were being honest and open with each other. Then he broke up with me.”

“He still sounds like a dick,” Hawk mumbled, wanting to show his support for his boyfriend, even if he wasn’t exactly upset that Miguel wasn’t still with the guy, “he already knew you were way younger than him, even if he didn’t know exactly how much.”

The poorly-hidden smile suggested that Miguel at least appreciated the effort. “It was more the fact that I’d been lying that upset him I think. But… yeah. There’s my disaster of a first time.”

Letting out a slow breath, Eli considered what Miguel was trying to say. It was true that he’d mainly suggested the idea because he felt like it was vaguely unfair that they’d settled into the roles they had without ever really discussing it. And he was genuinely curious what it felt like to be on the receiving side of things, but mostly, he was kind of worried that Miguel had only decided to take on the role that demanded more trust because of Eli’s relative inexperience.

And he’d kind of just confirmed that he had, even if there was a little more to it than Eli had been dreading.

“Ok, so I get where you’re coming from,” he said slowly, “but I know you wouldn’t let something like that happen to me, you’re way too annoying about this shit to let me get away with faking.”

Miguel still didn’t look convinced, his lips pressed tightly together.

Shuffling closer, he slid a hand behind Miguel’s neck, fingers playing with the loose curls back there. “Besides, don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring at my ass before, you really gonna act like you haven’t even considered it?”

He’d asked it flirtatiously, hoping to drag their conversation into a lighter mood, but the serious look on Miguel’s face made his grin falter.

He was building up to try and backtrack this entire conversation when his partner let out a sigh and leaned forward to kiss him lightly. “Ok, how about we take things slow?” he asked when he pulled back, dark eyes searching his. “We can just try fingering today so you can get a feel for if it’s something you’re into.”

It wasn’t quite what he wanted, but it was more of a concession than he’d been expecting. “Sure.”

“Tell me if you wanna stop at any point.”

“Will do.”

“And if I even think something’s wrong I’m stopping immediately.”

“Dude, you’re overreact-”

^[xxx]Lips crashed into his hard enough to push him back a little, but he quickly regained his balance and wrapped an arm around Miguel’s waist to keep him close and deepen the kiss. The warm chest pressed against his was a pleasant distraction, but not so much that he didn’t notice the fingers drifting to his hips and tugging at the towel. He groaned into the kiss as Miguel finally freed him from his cloth prison, hand automatically attaching to his rapidly hardening cock and pumping him to a full erection.

He whined a little pathetically when Miguel pulled away, pulling off his own sweatpants so they were on even footing before turning his back to him and rummaging in the bedside table – likely for the well-used bottle of lube he kept there.

Wanting to make this whole process as easy as possible, Eli was already shifting to his hands and knees when Miguel’s hand on his hip stopped him.

“Lay on your back,” he said, pushing until Eli followed the order and giving him a quick kiss once he was in position, “I need to be able to see you to check your reactions.”

His face screwed up and he could feel the burn in his cheeks as he realised he wasn’t going to be able to get away with hiding like he’d been lowkey hoping he could, because, even if he’d been the one to ask for it, he knew this was going to be embarrassing as hell for him. It shouldn’t be – he had seen Miguel in equally compromising positions, loved seeing him like that – but there was still a part of him that hated the idea of being so open and vulnerable. It wasn’t something Hawk was supposed to do.

But Eli would bear it in order to experience this with Miguel; possibly the only person he would ever let this close.

Unsure what to do with his hands he just left them at his sides, twitching nervously against the sheets under him, and stared up at the ceiling as Miguel lay down between his legs, waiting in terrified anticipation for something to happen.

The hot tongue trailing teasingly up the length of his cock was certainly welcome, but it also wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “What’re you doing?” he asked, unable to withhold a groan as Miguel zeroed in on a particularly sensitive spot.

“Distracting you,” Miguel mumbled against his skin, the ticklish movement of his lips making him shudder.

Well, his boyfriend was certainly succeeding in that, though not quite enough that Eli didn’t jump when he felt something cool and wet skim down the back of his thigh. Miguel’s fingertip traced lightly across his skin, the lube coating it leaving a cold trail behind in the shape of a-

Was this fucker actually drawing a heart on his thigh?

He lifted his head to glare down at Miguel, who was giving him way too innocent a look for someone who was at that very second sucking the head of his cock into his mouth. He barely had the strength to keep holding his head up, but he had absolutely no desire to look away from that sight either. “Shit.”

The hum around his tip was entirely unnecessary, but, by the time the vibrations had died down enough that Eli could process anything else, Miguel’s lube-slicked fingers had found a new target, pressing into his perineum with gentle pulsating motions.

“Fu-ahh!”

He almost wept when Miguel pulled away from his dick, licking the tip of it lightly before casually asking, “You good?”

It probably wasn’t a serious question, because he didn’t stop fucking tormenting him with tiny kitten-licks for even a second. He took Eli’s shaky middle finger – since he had been rendered unable to say any actual words – as an acceptable answer, quickly re-attaching his mouth to Eli’s length and running his tongue along the underside firmly. Groaning, he couldn’t help bucking to get more of the sensation, only Miguel’s free hand pressing his hip back down stopping him from accidentally choking his boyfriend.

Controlling his reactions was only getting more difficult though, what with Miguel’s fingers sliding further south from his perineum, though his thumb quickly replaced them, still pressing into him rhythmically.

Finally, Miguel reached his entrance, slick fingertip carefully stroking over it several times without dipping in. His breath hitched regardless and Eli felt himself twitching at the unfamiliar sensation, though another hum from the mouth around his cock quickly relaxed him, at least enough that he wasn’t tensing up quite so much each time that finger circled around him.

As strange as the new sensations were however, he couldn’t say he wasn’t enjoying it.

Miguel’s fingers began pushing against him a little harder, still not enough to actually enter him, just a gentle pressure that was quickly released. The finger then began slowly circling his entrance again, once, twice, three times, before the pressure returned.

That process kept being repeated, alternating between caressing and pressing and, the whole time, his cock was being tortured by a warm, soft mouth and wicked tongue.

It was the best kind of unbearable, but it was unbearable nonetheless.

After another caress had him twitching and letting out a loud groan, Eli lifted his head to stare down at Miguel. “Not that I’m complaining or anything,” he said breathlessly, “but doesn’t this usually involve actual… penetration?”

Dark eyes flickered open as Miguel glanced up to meet his gaze, releasing Eli’s cock with a pop and rush of sudden cold air against his skin that almost made him regret asking. “I mean sure, but outside of the prostate the most sensitive nerves are external, not internal, this is where you want to focus most of your attention, at least to start.” Miguel tucked his head between Eli’s thigh and cock as he explained, a sight which was absolutely going to be living rent-free in his mind for months to come, before turning to teasingly kiss his length, grinning at the full-body shudder Eli gave in response. “Does it feel bad?”

“Fuck no.”

“Good.” And that was all the warning he got before Miguel’s mouth was completely enveloping him, taking his entire length down his wet, tight throat. That was already enough to make Eli moan long and loud, even before Miguel started rubbing his tongue against the underside of his cock in a zig-zagging motion that destroyed any hope of Eli lasting for longer than a minute or two more of this torment.

When the thumb still pulsing against his perineum suddenly switched to rubbing small circles there and the fingers stroking against him started to very slowly press deeper, just barely dipping into him, he knew that he’d be lucky if he even lasted that long.

Needing some form of grounding, he lifted a shaky hand and dug his fingers into dark hair, getting a soft moan for his trouble that only drove himself closer to the edge with Miguel’s mouth still on him as it was.

His neck was aching from holding it up like this, but he refused to look away or close his eyes – though they kept briefly fluttering shut every time Miguel rubbed against some new pleasure point he’d never known about before – instead meeting the heavy gaze his boyfriend had levelled on him. That alone was almost enough to break him, but the finger pushing just barely up to the first knuckle joint and one last hard lick against the underside of his cock gave that last little shove needed.

With a cry that he was too dazed to be embarrassed by, Eli came, eyes squeezing tightly shut as his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest and he had to gasp to get enough air to fill his lungs.

Trembling as Miguel’s movements slowed, coaxing him through the last waves of pleasure and swallowing around him. “Miguel, fuck, that was…” He couldn’t even find the words, just glanced down, hoping he might be able to understand from his expression alone.

Pulling off of him, his boyfriend’s tongue darted out to lick at the corner of his mouth where he hadn’t quite caught all of Eli’s release, and he nearly combusted on the spot.

Did Miguel even realise what he did to him?

Apparently not, because his fingers stayed exactly where they were, gently probing at him while he leaned down again to kiss and bite at the inside of Eli’s thigh.

He moaned, dropping his head back onto the pillows and wishing he had any strength left to kick Miguel off of the bed, unfortunately every muscle in his body felt like it had turned into goo. “Miguel,” he whined, “I already came.”

“And?”

Eli blinked at the ceiling before glancing back down, where Miguel was giving him an intense look he’d never seen on him before, the wicked glint in his eyes only barely softened by his grin. Heat instantly flooded his cheeks.

“Who said we were done?” Miguel asked, still teasing him with his fingers without ever actually pushing in. “That was just to relax you for the next bit.”

He’s actually trying to kill me. “At least give me a couple minutes.”

Miguel sat up abruptly, hands disappearing, leaving him shivering at the sudden loss of his warmth. Before he could complain about that though, Miguel was crawling up his body and pressing a quick, chaste kiss to his lips, leaning their foreheads together when he broke it. From this close, Eli swore he could count every beautiful, earthy shade of brown in his eyes.

“I’ll be careful not to overstimulate you, promise,” Miguel said quietly, kissing him again before asking, “you trust me, right?”

Knowing that he’d already lost, Eli gave a single nod and wrapped a hand behind Miguel’s neck to hold him in place long enough to steal a deeper kiss. His boyfriend indulged him for a minute, moaning softly into his mouth, but didn’t let himself be distracted for too long, pulling away from his lips and trailing kisses down his jaw and neck and chest as he returned to his previous position. There was a faint click as Miguel grabbed the bottle of lube and reapplied more to his fingers, drawing a star shape at the apex of his thigh while it was still cold, making Eli flinch and swear under his breath.

When a hot tongue traced over that same pattern he moaned instead. “You’re a fucking moron.”

Miguel’s only response was to snicker into his thigh, before biting it hard enough to make him shudder. Suitably distracted by the teeth scraping across his skin, he barely noticed when fingers snuck back to his ass, the gentle touches there contrasting the roughness of his kisses and Miguel’s other hand pushing his leg wider to give himself more access to Eli’s body.

Part of him was still railing against being in this position, the part that had been so easily drawn in by Kreese’s poisonous teachings years ago. It screamed at him that this was shameful, weak, that he wasn’t supposed to want any of this shit.

But it was easily smothered by every other part of him begging for more of Miguel’s hands on him, his hot breaths against his skin, his burning eyes fixed solely on him and no one else.

“You look gorgeous like this,” Miguel mumbled so softly that Eli wasn’t sure he heard him properly.

And he wasn’t about to ask his partner to repeat himself, just in case he had.

He threw his arm over his eyes, pretending he hadn’t heard and let himself focus entirely on the feeling of Miguel pressing closer to him. The finger circling his entrance began to push a little more insistently, but he was so relaxed at this point that there was barely any resistance on Eli’s part and the feeling of being gently opened up, bit by bit, wasn’t at all uncomfortable.

Miguel was still taking things excruciatingly slow though. Even without being able to see what was going on, Eli could feel that he wasn’t going any deeper than the first knuckle, making circling motions there, essentially massaging the ring of muscle. It was certainly pleasurable, in a weird, unfamiliar kind of way, but he knew there was more.

But his boyfriend refused to give it to him, just kept that deliberate pace, stroking his free hand along one thigh, while still pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the other.

“You know,” Eli said breathlessly, “there’s a point where being careful just turns into being a tease.”

Teeth bit lightly into his skin as Miguel laughed. “Cielo, you should know by now what I’m like by now-” Eli groaned as Miguel’s technique suddenly changed, circling turning to thrusting, still not deeply, but faster than he’d been going until now “-but, if you insist…”

Despite his words, Miguel was still agonisingly gentle as he finally, finally pushed deeper, until he couldn’t go any further.

It wasn’t painful, not even particularly uncomfortable, but it was… odd.

Hardly worth the worry that had almost prevented his boyfriend from agreeing to this, though that could just be down to how careful Miguel was being with him. Even now, when Eli dropped his arm away from his face and glanced down, he met Miguel’s eyes burning into his, the same scrutinising look in them that he used to get when he was watching a demonstration of a new karate move. Like he was trying to study every aspect of it in order to replicate it perfectly, except it was Eli at the centre of his attention now.

He had to close his eyes to not crumble under the pressure of that stare, but he knew that Miguel was still watching his reactions closely, because he was waiting patiently, only the barest movements of the finger still inside him as Eli adjusted to the feeling of it.

Miguel waited until his breathing completely evened out before slowly beginning to thrust in and out shallowly and even that was so careful that he almost wanted to cry.

He didn’t deserve to be handled so gently, and if it were coming from anyone else, he probably would’ve fought back against such treatment.

But Miguel had always been the exception to every one of his rules.

With motions that were getting gradually more energetic, his partner was thrusting in earnest now, curling his finger to press against Eli in places he’d never been so aware of in his entire life. Each new sensation making him shake and moan and wonder if this was what Miguel felt when their roles were reversed.

Then, somewhere deep inside of him, a blaze erupted.

He could only imagine the noise that he’d just made, because he was pretty sure he’d blacked out for a second there, but when Miguel’s finger gently stroked against that spot again, Eli’s mouth fell open again and he whined.

The movement inside of him halted and he almost wanted to cry, but managed to stay calm enough to beg, “N-no, don’t stop, ’s good.”

For a long moment nothing happened and he was terrified that Miguel had misinterpreted his noise as pain instead of pleasure and was about to call the whole thing off, but then he felt a hot breath and a mumbled, “Fuck,” against his thigh and Miguel was caressing his prostate again and he was moaning and trembling and Miguel was slowly working another finger inside him and…

It was only when he felt a strong lick against his cock that Eli realised he’d gotten fully hard again.

“I- ahh~” He wasn’t quite sure what he’d been intending to say, but it hardly mattered once Miguel wrapped his lips around him and started taking more of his shaft into his perfect mouth.

He was barely able to keep up with so many overwhelming sensations; the heat of Miguel’s tongue lapping against him, the press of his fingers deep inside, the hand massaging the muscle of his thigh. All of it felt so incredible, but he couldn’t concentrate on one thing before a jolt of pleasure elsewhere broke what little grasp on reality he’d managed to regain, leaving him unable to do more than gasp and moan and dig his fingers into the sheets beneath him and pray that Miguel never stopped.

This was so much, almost too much, though that didn’t stop him from wanting more, hips bucking to get more of Miguel’s mouth, or fingers, or something, anything, he just needed-

No. No, this actually was too much.

He was on the edge of something, but his body felt like it was turning inside out, too much sensation everywhere. The air was too cold against his skin, sweat sticking his loose hair to his forehead uncomfortably, but it was so good, there was a kind of pleasure he’d never felt before somewhere in there if he could just concentrate on that…

By now he was whining uncontrollably and something in it must’ve communicated his distress, because Miguel was slowing down again, though he didn’t stop moving completely. The mouth engulfing his cock stopped bobbing, instead just staying in place, holding him secure and softly humming around him. The thrusts against his prostate slowed and became more gentle caresses, letting the building pressure in his gut gradually reduce from a high boil to a low simmer. Fingers stopped digging into his thigh, instead they rubbed small circles into it, the repetitive motion soothing and giving Eli a grounding point to focus on.

His chest was still heaving a little, but now that he was calming down it was obvious how he’d been on the verge of hyperventilating without even noticing.

But Miguel had noticed, and he’d immediately taken steps to bring him down gently without needing to be asked.

Of course he knew Miguel worried about him, that he wanted to look after him just as much as Eli wanted to look after Miguel in turn, but fuck it was different actually witnessing his attentiveness and care in action. He blinked his stinging eyes open and looked down at where his partner was giving him an unwavering stare. Knowing the question he wanted to ask, Eli gave as resolute a nod as he could manage in his current state and reached down to once again tangle his fingers in Miguel’s hair, grip light as he encouraged him to start bobbing up and down again.

With Eli’s permission granted, Miguel returned to his ministrations, quickly driving him to the edge again, though with more focus on his cock this time, where the sensations weren’t so overwhelming.

He was so gentle with him, the kind of treatment that Eli hadn’t really received from anyone else before and he realised that he didn’t want to live without that anymore. He wanted Miguel to treat him like he was worth being protected, just as much as he wanted the fun, cocky guy he joked around with and the sappy, dorky side of him that gave him butterflies and the confident, ambitious side that made him want to push himself to be better and everything in-between.

He was in love with him. Undeniably.

And he was actually starting to believe that he might not be the only one.

It might’ve been relief from finally allowing himself to admit that, or it might’ve been the way Miguel was moaning around him, but he let out a sob as a weight he hadn’t even known he was carrying lifted. He was quick to assure his partner he was fine and to keep going when he paused again to check on him, but he was so close that it didn’t take long anyway.

Even if he wasn’t as worked up as he had been when he’d nearly had an overload, he swore he nearly blacked out for a second as the pressure building up in him released in a forceful burst and he could feel his pulse rushing in his core, each throbbing beat drawing another shudder out of him.

Eli wasn’t in the state of mind to be registering anything other than each successive wave of pleasure gradually dying down over the next minute, by the time he began to feel outside sensations again the first thing he felt was warm lips lightly kissing his stomach. Still catching his breath, he let Miguel do as he pleased, the repeated gentle pecks quickly calming him down.

When he finally pulled away, Miguel moved to sit beside him, slouching over to look Eli in the face and rubbing a hand up and down his arm soothingly.

He seemed to be trying to hide his half-hard cock with the way he positioned his other arm across his lap and Eli reached out to brush against it, weakly saying, “Wait, you haven’t-”

Miguel pushed his hand away before he could do more than lightly graze his skin, pulling it up to his lips and lightly kissing his knuckles. “Don’t worry about it,” he said quietly, looking down at him with that soft stare that felt like it could pry Eli open and read all the innermost thoughts that he tried to keep hidden, “are you ok?”

Each breath he sucked in was returning a little more clarity and, with it, awareness of the weight of what had just happened.

“That was…”

The hand on his arm squeezed lightly and Miguel gave him a subdued smile. “A lot?”

He let out a breathless laugh and nodded. It wasn’t only that it was physically overwhelming – though that was undoubtedly the most intense string of orgasms he’d ever had – but it was more the emotional intensity of it that had left him feeling so lightheaded and raw.

Eli knew that he struggled a lot with opening up to others, allowing himself to be vulnerable. Even with Miguel, who he had always felt more comfortable with than anyone else, it was still sometimes difficult to let go of that rigid self-control of his own emotions. Doing something like this required absolute trust in your partner, and he did trust Miguel, but getting to actually experience this side of him that was devoted and gentle and protective, realising just how much Miguel saw Eli as someone worthy of all that care…

He turned his face away from his boyfriend, shutting his eyes tightly to relieve the stinging sensation building in them, but he couldn’t hide his hard sniffs, try as he might.

Making a soft noise, Miguel didn’t comment on Eli’s whimpering, just moved to lie down next to him, carefully rolling Eli onto his side and settling himself behind him, one arm draped across his waist and lips pressed to the back of his neck.

He didn’t ask what was wrong, didn’t tell him it was ok, didn’t draw any attention at all to Eli’s tears.

He was just there; present and real and offering silent comfort with no pressure to explain himself, or justify his inexplicable reaction – even though Eli was sure that if Miguel had had been the one to start crying after sex he absolutely would not have been so calm about it. He just let him sniffle and feel embarrassed without judgement.

It was something Eli hadn’t realised he’d been needing.

By the time he finally managed to get himself back under control, he felt light and free for the first time in years, even if his throat was thick and his eyes were slightly crusty.

Turning his face to rub it against the pillow, clearing off the worst of the tear residue around his eyes, he slowly rolled over, careful to not dislodge Miguel’s arm around him.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled, grimacing at how rough he sounded.

Miguel smiled at him, before taking advantage of the new position to bury his face in Eli’s shoulder. “Nothing to apologise for, I get it.”

He gave a shaky laugh, wrapping his own arms around his boyfriend and squeezing him tightly, before quietly saying, “I-I’m glad you suggested not going all the way this time, can’t imagine how much worse I would’ve been if we had.”

“Eli-” his breath hitched at hearing that name from Miguel, which prompted Miguel to pull back enough to look at him with soft, dark eyes “-you were fine, seriously, don’t worry.” He snuck a hand up between them to rub his thumb gently across Eli’s jaw. “If you wanna try again sometime then I’m right there with you, but if this was too intense we don’t have to. Whatever you’re comfortable with, that’s enough for me.”

Fuck, Eli really was in love with him.

Biting his lip as he considered the offer, he almost felt like he was going to start crying again. “I- maybe not right away,” he said, tugging Miguel back into him and letting his eyes close softly, “but I want to.”

“Then I’ll wait.” A kiss was pressed against him and Eli could feel the smile against his skin. “Just let me know when you wanna do this again, ok?”

He nodded and wrapped himself around Miguel, feeling drained from the emotional upheaval and from finally accepting – internally, if not out loud – that he was actually in love with this man and there was no going back for him from that. But, that had probably been the case for years, this was just the first time he’d felt it with such clarity.

Yawning, he pulled the sheets over them a little more, even knowing he was going to end up kicking them off soon enough once he started overheating, when a thought popped into his mind. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Miguel asked, voice grouchy and tired as he snuggled more into Eli.

He trailed a hand down his side, smiling at the light shudder Miguel gave as he settled on his hip and squeezed. “You never came.”

Miguel groaned into his shoulder and just hugged him tighter. “Fuck off, I’m too tired for that now, just cuddle with me and go to sleep already.”

Laughing and deeply grateful that he hadn’t made things unbearably awkward between them now, Eli leaned his head down to brush his boyfriend’s hair away from his ear and whisper, “I’ll make you come twice next time so we’re even.”

“Go to sleep.”

---

Chapter Text

---

The first breath he took as he stepped out of the car hit his lungs like ice.

It wasn’t that it was particularly cold out – the late morning air was actually pleasantly cool – but after being trapped in the tense, confined space of Hector’s car for well over two hours, he had been desperately needing to escape. Miguel didn’t seem as relieved though, taking a few extra moments before opening the door and joining Eli.

And, when the sound of tires rolling to a stop against the loose gravel behind them reached his ears, Hawk quickly tensed up again, glaring back at Cruz and Saul both as they silently exited the second vehicle.

The place they had pulled up in front of was surprisingly nice for the apparent headquarters of a criminal kingpin. A large, sprawling estate on the outskirts of Ciudad Ayala which was attached to an even larger farm. He could already see several men peeling away from the front of the house, heading in their direction, though he was quickly distracted by the low voice mumbling behind him.

“Sigo pensando que el cachorro y su… amigo deberían quedarse aquí. Esta es una reunión importante, él será un lastre.”^[186]

“¿Tiene inquietudes, Saul?”^[187] It was good that Hector was quick to call out his right-hand, because Hawk was getting frustrated pretending he didn’t understand what he was saying and if the man had been allowed to keep talking he was going to snap and do something stupid. “Quiero que mi hijo empiece a involucrarse más en el negocio, ¿cómo aprenderá sin experiencia?”^[188]

Saul apparently wasn’t content with that answer however. “Él no está preparado, el gringo menos.”^[189]

“I know what gringo means, asshole,” Hawk snapped, turning suddenly to glare at the man who was top of his shit-list right now.

He hated this, it was hard enough being forced into a dangerous situation; having to play nice with the man who had straight up tortured Miguel was more than he could stand, even without him being actively antagonistic towards them.

“Hawk.” The unexpectedly sharp voice was enough to make him glance back at Miguel.

His expression was stoic, but when he looked closely Eli could see his anxiety in the rigidity of his posture.

Right. He had to stay calm, for Miguel’s sake if nothing else.

A difficult task when Saul marched directly in front of Miguel and glared up at him, hopefully not noticing the way Miguel’s fists instantly clenched at his sides and his breathing picked up slightly. “Si las cosas van mal aquí, es tu trasero el que está en juego, intenta controlarte a ti mismo y a tu mascota, perro salvaje.”^[190]

Before Eli could push himself between the two men, there was a low, dry chuckle behind them that could only have come from Cruz. “Eres el que ladra como un perro, Saul,”^[191] she said, dropping her hand onto his shoulder heavily, “ahora estad alerta.”^[192]

Following her gaze to the group quickly approaching, Saul growled and shrugged her off, but didn’t speak up again, simply moved to stand next to Hector and face them.

“Rueda, ¡qué bueno verte de nuevo!”^[193] Hector said, already holding a hand out in greeting to the leader of the newcomers.

“Gracias Hector, siempre es un placer.”^[194] Rueda took the offered hand and shook it firmly, glancing at the other members of Hector’s entourage, barely giving any of them more than a passing glance “Ojalá tuviéramos más tiempo para chanza, pero primero deben estar los negocios.”^[195]

Hector nodded and kept pace with the man as he started leading them back towards the estate, each of their respective groups falling into step behind them, glancing suspiciously at each other. “Por supuesto, estoy muy interesado en ver más de su operación en persona.”^[196]

“En realidad, tenía algunas cosas que deseaba discutir con usted, habrá oportunidades para observar en el futuro.”^[197] Rueda was waving them towards what looked to be the main building of the old colonial-style farmhouse, where a door was already being held open for them by one of his guards. He only turned back to raise an eyebrow when he realised that he was no longer being followed.

Eli couldn’t see Hector’s face from this angle, but from the tone of his voice when he spoke again he suspected that his cheerful mask might be slipping, just a bit. “Sabría en qué estoy comprando antes de comprometerme.”^[198]

Rueda’s own smile dropped as he stared at his fellow gang leader.

Fucking hell, was this about to turn violent? Eli was prepared to fight if necessary, but it was five against at least twelve – and there was no way there weren’t more guys tucked away in the various buildings surrounding them – and, while he knew at least Hector, Cruz and Saul were armed, he’d also seen glimpses of not-so-hidden weaponry on several of Rueda’s goons too. He subtly shifted his stance, preparing to grab Miguel and run for cover at the first sign of trouble.

But no one made a move to attack, instead Rueda’s greyish brown eyes settled on the person standing beside Hawk. “Entonces estoy seguro de que su hijo es bastante capaz de evaluar mi operación e informarle, estoy seguro de que quedará impresionado. Dorantes-”^[199] one of his men quickly stepped forward “-dale el recorrido comple-”^[200]

“Mi hijo se queda conmigo,”^[201] Hector said, still calm, but all warmth completely gone from his voice as he stepped in front of Miguel. “Entiendes que nuestra asociación existe sólo en potencia en este momento, no tengo ninguna razón para confiarte mi familia.”^[202]

The two men locked eyes as Rueda decided what his next move in this powerplay going down between them would be.

And Hawk couldn’t do more than glance at Miguel, trying to gauge how he was holding up behind the mile-thick walls he’d thrown up around himself. It was an impressive front, Miguel had never been the best at disguising his feelings, but he looked about as calm as Hector or Saul did. But Eli had spent too much time observing him over the years to not notice the subtle signs of tension in his too-stiff stance and the clench of his jaw.

“Por supuesto, si deseas enviar a otro miembro de tu tripulación…”^[203]

Hector frowned at the ball now thrown into his court, eyes briefly scanning across his limited options before he turned back to Rueda. “Cruz. I’ll want a detailed report after we’re done here.”

The woman didn’t reply, just casually walked over to the man Rueda had called out earlier.

“Also,” Hector continued before Rueda could speak, looking over his shoulder and staring directly at Eli, “Hawk, you’re with her.”

He blinked in shock, glancing between Hector, Cruz and Rueda’s gang as he tried to figure out the plan here. He’d been told during the drive here that he was to stand back, not draw attention and keep his mouth shut, and he knew that his only real role here was to give Miguel a reason not to do something stupid, like disobey an order from Hector. There was something going on that he didn’t understand and he didn’t like that, and he especially didn’t like that going with Cruz meant he was going to be separated from Miguel.

“I-”

“Any complaints?” Hector asked, his tone suggesting that if he did he’d better keep them to himself.

With everyone staring at him intently, he wanted to shrink under the attention, but a quick exchanged glance with Miguel was enough to remind him that, right now, what was most important was playing his role.

“None.”

Hector immediately turned back to Rueda, his smile full-force again and laughter back in his voice. “Entonces vámonos, seguro que tenemos mucho que discutir,”^[204] he said, walking past the older man and heading straight through the door still being held open for them.

The tension broken, everyone started moving at once. Rueda chuckled and followed closely behind Hector, nodding to each of his men who started splitting off in several different directions, one entering the house with him, the rest heading towards the other smaller buildings scattered around the courtyard. Only the one who was supposed to be showing Cruz around stayed put, probably waiting for Hawk to join them.

He threw a glance at Miguel, catching the brief flash of fear in his eyes, before Saul’s hand settled on his shoulder – same shoulder Saul had left his fucking mark on, Eli wanted to rip him apart – and pushed him towards the house.

Despite every atom in him wanting to follow after them, he tore his gaze away and made his way over to Cruz instead, glaring as she raised a brow at him.

Their guide, Dorantes, was giving him a searching look and Eli had to harden his expression to keep from reacting when he asked, “¿Éste nos entiende?”^[205]

Cruz shook her head, but the way she was eyeing him was almost… challenging. Like she wanted him to prove her wrong. Had she figured out that he was completely fluent in Spanish? It would probably be best to keep playing dumb for now, but he’d need to be more careful around her, just in case.

Accepting the answer, the surly-looking man nodded towards one of the side buildings and began leading them away, already talking shop with Cruz as he did. Eli wasn’t sure how much he really wanted to know, but he also knew he had to stay on full alert as long as he was here, so he ended up listening closely to everything that was being said.

Apparently Rueda’s main gig was people smuggling, with this farm being a stop-off point before they were transported closer to the US-Mexico border.

However, not all of them were getting there anytime soon.

Dorantes had been walking them towards the edge of a large field, where several dozen people were hard at work. Hard at work doing what exactly, Eli had no idea – he’d never had much interest in gardening, let alone farming – but they were focused enough on their task that none of them looked up for more than a second as their little group neared. Though that might have more to do with the various men wandering around, weapons on clear display, even if they remained holstered.

Their guide nodded towards some of the workers. “Nuestros muchachos recogieron estos en Panamá, hacemos barridos regulares en el área. No tienen los honorarios para pagarles a nuestros coyotes, entonces están pagando con mano de obra.”^[206]

Cruz eyed them, but she didn’t seem at all surprised, unlike Eli. “¿Sin resistencia?”^[207]

“Ya cruzaron el Darién solo para llegar hasta acá, no se vuelve más desesperado, entienden nuestra generosidad con este arreglo-”^[208] Dorantes shrugged, leaning against a fence and giving a brief, humourless laugh “-además, no es que las cosas vayan a mejorar para ellos una vez que lleguen a Estados Unidos. Es mejor que se acostumbren ya.”^[209]

“Supongo que no pretendes transportarlos a través de la Ciudad de México de camino a Tijuana. Hay rutas más directas.”^[210]

Their guide confirmed that transportation wasn’t something they needed to worry about, turning to face Cruz directly. “Nuestra principal preocupación es la competencia y los recursos; el grupo Saavedra ha estado trastocando nuestras operaciones. Tienes conexiones que podrían darnos una ventaja.”^[211]

She nodded, giving the workers in the field one last passing glance before she started walking on, forcing Eli and Dorantes to match her pace. “Hector tiene muchos amigos.”^[212]

“¿Amigos tuyos también?”^[213]

“Mantengo mis relaciones profesionales,”^[214] she said quietly, giving their guide a hard look, “pero sí, estoy muy familiarizado con su red. Entienden cómo hacemos negocios.”^[215]

The man nodded carefully, stepping a little closer to Cruz and lowering his voice enough that Eli had to strain to hear what he said to her, “También tenemos algunos amigos. Viejos amigos de su jefe, aunque según lo que sabemos no se separaron en los mejores términos.”^[216]

For the first time in their entire conversation, Cruz perked up, looking almost excited. “No sabía que Rueda tiene conexiones hasta Ecuador, estoy seguro de que Hector estaría feliz de hacer las paces con sus compatriotas.”^[217]

Eli really didn’t like where this conversation was headed; it was a struggle to keep up his ignorant act.

Luckily Cruz wasn’t paying any attention to Hawk, focused instead on studying Dorantes and his reactions to whatever coded exchange was happening beneath their verbal discussion. “También tenemos buenas relaciones con la mayoría de su competencia, y terreno neutral.”^[218]

“Un factor que Rueda está considerando.”^[219]

The man had a good poker face, Eli would give him that, but apparently Cruz still saw something that made her give a satisfied smile. “Es mejor no considerar demasiado, algunas ofertas solo pueden permanecer sobre la mesa por un tiempo limitado.”^[220]

He really did not like this.

The suffocating air didn’t lift for Eli, even after Dorantes finally broke their staring match and slowly began walking again, sharing more details on the inner workings of his boss’ operation. Cruz fell into step behind him, though her hand landed heavily on Eli’s shoulder as she passed, leaning into him to softly say, “Relax, niño, we’re nearly done here.”

If anything, that only made him more tense, and keeping his mask up was a battle he didn’t think he could win much longer, but luckily she turned away from him before he could break completely. Sucking in a single breath and hoping it would be enough to keep him calm, he trailed after them, lagging a few steps behind as his eyes lingered on the desperate people working the fields.

He was a little shocked at how diverse the group was. Admittedly he knew next to nothing about the intricacies of people smuggling, but he wasn’t expecting that there would be so many people, young and old, men and women, looking like they came from of all kinds of different backgrounds. And they were all being coerced into hard labour to ‘earn’ their potential ticket to a better life, the unspoken but ever-present threat of violence hanging over them the entire time.

This was the kind of person Hector did business with. This was the kind of thing he wanted to drag his son into.

And what the fuck could Eli do about it? He was a good fighter, but that didn’t mean shit when there were at least seven or eight guys in the immediate area – most of whom were probably armed – and that wasn’t even counting Cruz, who he didn’t exactly trust to have his back if things went to shit. Even if he somehow did manage to take out all the nearby guards without getting himself killed in the process, what then? Where else could these people go? They’d already given up so much just to get here, what was left for them except finding another smuggling ring that might end up treating them even worse?

Walking past, pretending what he saw didn’t bother him, knowing that anything he tried to do to help wouldn’t be worth anything… it made him feel sick.

Cruz and Dorantes were still talking, though his focus was drifting enough that he was only catching half of what they said. Most of it seemed more about the details of Rueda’s business anyway, details which didn’t mean much to him, even when he did listen to what was being said.

By the time they circled back around to where they had begun, Hector was apparently still in his meeting with Rueda and Cruz made the executive decision that they would wait for them by the cars, rather than lurking where members of Rueda’s gang were coming and going giving them suspicious looks. He had to admit, it was a relief to be somewhere at least marginally safer, though he felt like he was going to vibrate out of his own skin if he didn’t see Miguel again soon and confirm he was safe.

His tension was probably noticed, because Cruz silently offered him a cigarette as she was pulling one out for herself. He shook his head at the offer, taking a step further away from her to avoid the acrid smell of smoke as she took her first drag.

“You gotta learn to relax,” she said, voice rough as she tipped her head back, staring straight up at the slightly overcast afternoon sky, “you keep being this jumpy around men like Rueda, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

Eli glared at the ground, kicking at the loose gravel with his toe as he leaned back against Hector’s car. “I’m not exactly used to this shit.”

“Neither’s Miguel, but he at least knows how to fake it better than you.”

“What makes you think he’s faking?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound too defensive. He might not want Miguel to be stuck dealing with any of this, but – since he couldn’t exactly stop that at this point – he at least wanted to support him as much as possible and part of that meant not letting anyone sense his weaknesses.

Cruz just laughed, though it wasn’t a particularly nice sound. “Because I was the one who taught him how,” she said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, “he’s not good enough to fool everyone though. Probably why Hector’s being even more paranoid than usual.”

Oh.

He’d assumed that the man’s unusually hostile behaviour today was just how he normally was with his business dealings, it hadn’t even occurred to Eli that Miguel’s presence might have him on edge.

But it did beg the question, “So why drag Miguel into this at all, if he just sees him as a liability?”

Broad shoulders lifted in a half-hearted shrug, before Cruz took a slow drag and released it in an even slower breath. “Official story we were given? None of our fucking business.”

“Hector actually said that?”

“He worded it prettier,” she said, waving her hand around lightly, “you know how he is.”

He snorted, that certainly sounded more like the Hector he was familiar with. Still though… he eyed Cruz warily, trying to read what she was thinking as she stared impassively at the farmhouse, before giving in and just asking, “Got any thoughts on the unofficial story?”

She didn’t give him more than a passing glance, before looking back towards Rueda’s home. “Could be trying to make the gang appear more stable by having a successor,” she eventually said, “when he’s making deals he’ll want to be negotiating from a position of strength.”

“He could have picked anyone to be his successor.”

His anger must’ve been more obvious than he’d intended, because she laughed at him again, finally turning her gaze fully onto him, dark eyes searing into him like she could see every thought in his head. “Of course several men were eyeing the position before Miguel came along, but Hector’s a distrustful man, he’s been making some unpredictable moves lately, that usually means something has him spooked.”

Thinking back on what he’d overheard Cruz and their guide discussing earlier…

It seemed that Hector’s paranoia wasn’t entirely unjustified.

He didn’t say that out loud of course, even if he had the horrible suspicion that Cruz knew more than she was letting on he didn’t want to just confirm it so easily. “But why Miguel?” he asked instead.

Cruz released the smoke she had been holding in her lungs in a tightly controlled stream, having the decency to at least turn her head away so it didn’t blow directly into Hawk’s face. “You know what Hector values more than anything else?”

“Loyalty.”

“Ahh, he’s given you that speech before-” her laugh was croaky, but more genuine than he’d ever heard it before “-if he’s concerned about the loyalty of those around him, what better way to draw out disloyal dogs than by placing a big, juicy steak in front of them? The kid’s unqualified and everyone knows it, anyone can see it’s a bad move strategically, if you were going to convince your comrades that your leader is no longer fit to rule…”

His blood froze.

“He’s making Miguel a target to draw out traitors,” Eli said numbly, his voice sounding shaken, even to his own ears.

It was already taking everything in him not to let his emotions overpower him whenever Hector was around, even without this.

Cruz shrugged. “Perhaps.”

Maybe she was wrong, or she was deliberately messing with him, but now that the idea was out there, it made a lot of sense, and it wasn’t like it would be uncharacteristic of Hector to screw his son over like this. He could feel his breathing speeding up, his fists trembling at his sides and he had to fight his lungs to hold onto a single breath until he calmed down, his familiar blank mask settling into place as he shoved his rage back down.

“But,” she continued, either not noticing or not caring about Hawk’s poorly hidden anger, “if I’m right, it’s gonna put a target on your back too.”

Glancing up to meet her gaze, he found her piercing eyes already boring into him, the end of her cigarette glowing faintly as she sucked in a long drag and held it.

She wanted a reaction out of him.

He withheld a shudder, but met her stare head-on, turning to face her properly and taking a calm step into her personal space, glaring down at her. “We’re not gonna be easy targets.”

If his confident display had any effect on her, she wasn’t showing it at all, she simply chuckled softly, smoke escaping her in little huffs, matched his stare and said in her low voice, “I hope not.” Her eyes flickered away for a brief moment and she jerked her head to the side, drawing Eli’s gaze to the small group walking towards them.

Seeing Miguel alive and well instantly took a weight off his shoulders and he couldn’t help the sigh of relief that left him.

Cruz dropped the stub of her cigarette to the ground and crushed it under the heel of her heavy work boot. “I like you kids. It’d be a shame to see your value wasted.”

Backing away from her quickly, Eli only had a few moments to eye her suspiciously before the rest of their party reached them. He wanted to immediately check on Miguel, but Hector was barrelling towards Cruz with purpose.

“Report. I want to know everything.”

The woman gave her boss an unimpressed look, but didn’t keep him waiting for long. “Rueda runs a tight ship, his operation’s solid, but his main concern is Saavedra’s group pushing into his territory.”

“Yes, he mentioned those fools were hassling him.” Hector must’ve been really on edge, because he wasn’t even trying to hide his frustration like he normally would, fingers tapping agitatedly against the hood of his car as he leaned against it. “They’re pissing off a lot of people lately.”

Yet Cruz remained the absolute picture of tranquillity. “They’re young and eager, and they’ve got enough resources to cause trouble for the old guard.”

“Cruz-”

“A more experienced hand could put that enthusiasm to good use,” she continued, pushing past Saul’s warning tone like he hadn’t even spoken, “and I’ve seen more than a few of their boys at the ring. Pretty big fans of yours, Asesino.”

The discomfort Miguel felt hearing that was plain on his face, his calm front dropping a little now that they were away from Rueda’s men.

Hector’s head snapped up to glare at his subordinate. “I am not going to risk pissing off every major cartel in the region by supporting a group of upstart kids who don’t yet understand how things work around here.”

“Upstart kids can be useful, if pointed in the right direction.”

“No, I’m not entertaining this fool notion any longer-” Hector pushed himself back up and stepped directly in front of Cruz, glowering down at her “-did you at least confirm if Rueda operates internationally?”

Her soft smile suggested she wasn’t at all intimidated by his posturing and, honestly, if it came to blows Hawk’s money would be on her to win that fight.

“He doesn’t.”

Eli was glad he had already been actively keeping his blank mask over his face, because if he hadn’t it probably would have slipped at that. He was positive that their guide had said that most of the people being held here had been picked up in Panama, and Rueda apparently knew some people in Ecuador who had some history with Hector, so why was she withholding that information now? Maybe he was missing some context, but…

Maybe she had reasons for keeping secrets from Hector.

Reasons he’d probably be better off not knowing.

It didn’t seem like Hector was satisfied with the answer either way. “Same as he told me,” he muttered to himself, “if that bastard is lying to me-”

“Sir.” Saul cleared his throat and subtly nodded towards the estate.

No one had come any closer to them, certainly nowhere near hearing range, but there were still patrols wandering the grounds and more than a few eyes were turned in their direction. But Hector took the unspoken warning to heart, taking a sharp breath before speaking in a clipped tone, “Well, regardless, I’ve begun to work out a deal with him, but I want everyone listening out for any information on Rueda, his operations, his connections. If there’s anything he’s not telling me, I want to know about it.”

Eli held his breath as he fought to keep his expression blank and fixed his gaze on a point on the ground where he didn’t have to meet anyone’s eyes.

“For now, let’s get back, I don’t want to be here any longer than we have to.”

Following their boss’ order, Saul and Cruz split from the rest of the group, silently walking to the car they’d arrived in. Eli eyed Cruz as she left, but was quickly distracted by the presence settling beside him.

He glanced up and instantly relaxed under Miguel’s warm gaze.

“You ok?” Eli asked quietly, searching for any signs of distress in his boyfriend’s expression that hadn’t already been there since the second they arrived.

Miguel gave a weak smile, but nodded. “I’m fine, nothing really happened, just talking,” he said, head turning to stare after Cruz as she stepped into the car, door slamming shut behind her. “What about you?”

He didn’t need to say what he was worried about – Eli already knew Miguel didn’t trust Cruz at all – but it was strange that she seemed to be the bigger concern in his mind than the rival gang whose turf they were currently encroaching on. Especially when, from the admittedly limited experience he’d had with any of them, Hawk had to admit he liked the woman better than anyone else in Hector’s crew.

Granted there wasn’t much competition and he definitely wasn’t stupid enough to not notice she was shady as fuck, but if he had to be stuck hanging out with one of them, he’d choose Cruz over Hector or Saul any day.

He suspected that Miguel probably wouldn’t want to hear that though, so he just nodded and said, “Yeah, I’m good.”

Clenching his fists at his side, Eli smothered the urge to reach out and brush his hand against Miguel’s, or pull him into a hug, kiss him until their worries faded to the back of their minds. But they weren’t alone and they wouldn’t be for several hours yet.

The ride back might actually be even more draining than the drive here.

But he started walking towards the car anyway, resigning himself to a long, stressful return trip, when a hand landed on his shoulder. Eli didn’t need to look behind him to know who it was. “A moment, Mohicano.”

Miguel’s glanced between them from where he was standing at the passenger-side door, asking in a soft, anxious voice, “Pa?”

“Wait in the car, mijo, we will only be a moment.”

It was obvious from the look on his face that the last thing he wanted was to leave them alone together, but Miguel reluctantly did as he was told. Hector waited patiently, hand still resting in place, grip firm, but not crushing. That didn’t mean Eli wasn’t feeling the urge to peel off his own skin rather than endue this a second longer.

Only once the car door clicked shut behind Miguel did Hector speak, “Hawk.” His grip tightened, just a little. “Did Cruz neglect to tell me anything important that happened while you two were alone?”

It was probably a good thing Eli was facing away from the man, because for a split second he felt his mask drop. “What?”

“I hope you understand your position. I am placing my trust in you because my son trusts you-” he felt the shift behind him and was quick to restore his carefully empty expression before Hector circled around to see the panic it was covering “-if something were to disrupt my business I will be required to see that retributions are made.”

“I know that,” he growled, wanting more than anything to look away from the man’s eyes – eyes which reminded him far too much of Miguel’s – but knowing it would only be seen as a sign of weakness.

“And I am sure you are also aware that as your… guarantor, Miguel will also face punishment for your actions, my men would demand it.”

This time, he couldn’t hide the way his expression twisted.

He could feel the twitching of muscles across his entire body, skin burning hot with a kind of rage he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before, not even at the height of his Cobra Kai days. But what he was feeling now definitely brought him back to that version of himself he’d spent years trying to distance himself from and the familiar old serpent’s voice was ringing in his ears like a mantra.

Take all that hate you feel and channel it into power.

Never underestimate your enemy.

Weakness is unacceptable.

And, for the first time in years, he followed the advice that he’d sworn he wasn’t going to listen to ever again, letting his barely-restrained rage take centre stage. Anger was good, anger was safe.

Hector absolutely could not know he was terrified out of his mind right now.

The ice in Hector’s voice didn’t melt in the face of Hawk’s obvious burning fury however. “Think very carefully before you lie to me, Hawk. Did Cruz withhold anything?”

Clenching his fists tight enough to feel his blunt nails digging into his palms, Eli grit his teeth as he tried to ignore the thundering blood rushing through his veins, clouding his judgement, telling him he should just give in to his desires and attack right now.

It would be very satisfying, he probably even had a decent chance of beating him if he caught him off-guard, even despite Hector being armed. But there was no way Miguel would just sit back and let that happen and they were still in dangerous territory. So he smothered those urges deep down and instead considered his options.

He could tell the truth, reveal the increasingly suspicious behaviour of Hector’s left hand. It would be very easy to throw Cruz under the bus, and doing so would probably take some of the pressure off of him and Miguel, at least for a little while. It would be the smart move.

But… his gut was telling him something different.

His instincts were telling him that – as untrustworthy as she definitely was – Cruz was the lesser of two evils, and she had both more to gain and more to lose. If he told Hector the truth now, he might get a few days of gratitude before he went back to his usual ways, a few weeks if they were lucky. If he kept Cruz’s secret…

She could be a useful ally. Or a time-bomb waiting to go off.

Being honest with himself, Eli already knew whose side he was leaning towards, the only reason he was hesitating was Miguel.

There was no doubt in his mind that Hector would follow through on his threats. He’d done nothing to give Eli any reason to trust that he would ever put his son’s wellbeing above his own selfish needs. His decision now could end up backfiring badly and, if it did, Eli wasn’t going to be the only one facing the consequences.

How much was he willing to risk? What did he trust more, his mind or his gut?

And how much longer was he willing to sit back without taking action?

Inhaling slowly, he hardened his expression and glared directly into Hector’s eyes, desperately trying to ignore the traces of Miguel he saw in them.

“Everything Cruz told you was accurate to what I saw,” he said slowly, voice shaking as he held his rage in check, “the guide spoke to her, but my Spanish isn’t great so I didn’t catch most of it. If she lied about anything she was told, I don’t know about it.”

Hector’s eyes narrowed and he leaned in a little closer, searching Hawk’s face for any trace of dishonesty.

The entire time he was doing so, Eli couldn’t breathe.

After an eon of scrutiny, the man finally let out an aggravated sigh and stepped back, rubbing a hand across his face harshly. “Fine,” he snapped, spinning on his heel and walking to the car, “we’re done here, get in. And never talk to Miguel about what we discussed here, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

He stared at the ground for a few seconds, swallowing his overflowing emotions back down where they could once again be safely hidden before following after Hector.

There. He’d either given himself and Miguel an advantage that could win their eventual ticket to freedom, or he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life.

Only time would tell which.

---

By the time they staggered back into Miguel’s apartment, Eli swore he could feel every muscle in his body twitching from how tense he’d been the entire drive back.

“We can’t keep doing this.”

Miguel had already collapsed face-first into the couch within seconds of locking the door, but lifted his head to look back at him at those words. “Doing what?”

“Just… everything. All of it.” He knew he wasn’t being very articulate right now, didn’t need to see the tired look he was getting from his boyfriend to know that, but he couldn’t help it. The entire drive back to Mexico City he’d been mentally replaying his conversation with Hector over and over, trying to find anything he might’ve said or done that could be used against them later and it had thoroughly fried his brain.

It had also made it very clear to him that he couldn’t keep putting off this conversation any longer, not when the danger around them only kept increasing.

Fighting to halt his trembling, Eli marched over to the couch and pulled Miguel into a sitting position, before taking the space next to him for himself and turning to sit facing each other head on. “Miguel, you know that things are only going to keep getting worse the longer we’re involved with your dad’s gang,” he said, gripping his upper arms tightly and refusing to let go when Miguel attempted to shrug him off and turn away.

He’d let Miguel get away with running from this for too long already. That stopped now.

“What do you expect me to do? Tell him I don’t want to do this anymore?” His boyfriend stopped trying to escape his unrelenting grip, but he still looked as far away from Eli’s face as possible, a frustrated glare being sent towards the wall instead. “He won’t let me back out now and I don’t want him turning on you because I’m not being cooperative.”

“So you’re ok with just doing whatever he tells you to, even if it hurts you? Even if it puts us both in danger?”

Miguel winced, but set his jaw in that way he always did when he was being stubborn.

This was going to be about as easy and enjoyable as pulling teeth, Eli could already tell. Growling a little, he released one arm in order to grab Miguel’s jaw, forcing him to turn back and meet his gaze. “Look, I’ve been giving you space while we try and figure things out, but we can’t put this off forever. You’re running away from the real problem and every time I try to bring it up you get all defensive like this and nothing changes.”

Screwing his eyelids shut, Miguel shook his head as much as he could while Eli was still holding him in place. “I don’t know what else to do,” he said quietly.

“Run away! Fight back! Just do something.” Miguel was still refusing to open his eyes and look at him, and the lack of connection was beginning to drive him crazy. If he could just get his partner to look at him, really listen to what he was saying… “Miguel, how long do you plan to just sit back and wait for your dad to suddenly become a decent person? He doesn’t care about you-”

“Stop it.” The words were croaked out, like it physically hurt him to say them, but Eli could feel from the straining of muscle under his hands that Miguel was close to snapping.

A week ago he probably would’ve backed off.

“No, you need to hear this Miguel-” when he made another attempt to shake him off, Eli just gripped even tighter “-when he pulled me aside earlier, he said that if he even thinks that either one of us has stepped out of line we’re both getting the punishment. Being his son isn’t gonna protect yo-”

“I know that!”

Eli literally jumped at the unexpected shout, far louder than he ever usually got. Even Miguel looked a little surprised at himself, eyes wide and breaths short and uneven.

Though he quickly recovered from his shock, settling into a quieter anger instead as he jerked away from Eli’s suddenly lax grip, shifting further down the couch and glaring at him like he was waiting for an attack. “I know exactly what could happen, much, much better than you do,” he eventually said, voice barely above a whisper, but harsh and cold and so unlike him, “and I know I’ve already used up every free pass I get for being his son.”

“So why are we still doing this?” Eli asked, practically begged as he shuffled closer on his knees, reaching to place a hand to either side of his boyfriend, caging him in without actually touching him. “We can leave. Right now. It’s not like Hector’s got someone watching us at all hours of the day, let’s just fucking get out of here, maybe go find the others, they can back us up-”

“You know I’m not ever going home, right?”

He’d said it so gently, as if he wasn’t reaching straight into Eli’s chest and ripping his heart out.

Fighting back frustrated tears, he grit his teeth and leaned in closer, still not touching, but not giving Miguel the space to breathe either. “Why not? We can think of a way to get out of here safely, Hector won’t even need to find out until we’re already gone.”

“And then what? You think that’ll be the end of it?” Miguel asked bitterly, shifting restlessly within the cage of Eli’s arms. “You really think he wouldn’t try and come after us? And I still have Luis and Maria to look out for.”

Back to that old excuse again, as if it was anything but a way for Miguel to keep living in denial about his real reasons for not wanting to leave.

Well, this time Eli had a counter to his argument.

“What if we took them with us? Last time we saw them I spoke to Maria, floated the idea of getting away from Hector at her-”

Miguel’s scoff interrupted him. “She won’t do it, her entire life is here, she won’t be able to give that up.”

He was so fucking sick of this. Sick of Miguel throwing up walls to block him out, sick of not doing anything, sick of constantly being the one having to smother his own emotions because he didn’t want to upset his boyfriend, sick of letting Miguel get away with hurting him because he was so desperate not to lose him.

So maybe his next words were harsher than he might otherwise have allowed them to be.

“Yeah? You didn’t seem to have a problem leaving everything behind when you left.”

The effect was immediate, Miguel’s face dropping as he shrunk into the arm of the couch as much as possible, though he was seemingly unable to rip his eyes away from Eli’s, even as the liquid sheen to them became more pronounced.

But Miguel wasn’t the only one on the verge of tears, and Eli could feel his voice breaking as his lingering rage and hurt pushed him to continue, “Did we really mean so little to you?” he asked, finally sitting back, drawing his arms back to his sides and pulling out of Miguel’s space, unable to hold his gaze any longer. Pressing a hand tightly against his eyes, hating the wetness he felt against his palm, his next words came out as a sob, “D-did I mean so little-”

“Eli-” that name in that tone of voice was going to shatter him “-please-”

“No!” He smacked away the gentle fingers trying to pull his hand away from his eyes and glared at him, not caring how much of a mess he looked, or how broken his voice must sound. “You need to know how badly you hurt everyone when you left, we all… Why did you never try to contact us again?”

Miguel almost looked like a little kid, curled in on himself, arms wrapped around his legs, eyes wide and wet, even if he wasn’t actually crying yet.

Sucking in a breath that didn’t sound any steadier than Eli’s were, his fists closed around the stiff material of his jeans tightly. “I- I did. The last time I spoke to anyone from back home was… It was my mom,” he said so softly that Eli almost couldn’t hear him over his own shaky, uneven breathing, “I called her not long after I first found dad.”

Eli frowned, sitting back on his heels and trying to calm himself down, though he could still feel his agitation when he said, “She never said anything.”

The noise Miguel let out sounded like a laugh, but the expression on his face was pure misery.

“Why would she? I basically told her I hated her.”

That wasn’t… Eli could probably count on one hand the number of times Miguel had complained to him about Carmen. And honestly most of those times had been after it had been revealed that she was dating Johnny, and it was pretty obvious that most of Miguel’s frustrations with that whole situation weren’t directed at his mom. Unlike most of their other friends, Miguel would rarely talk about his family with anything but the utmost respect.

He would never say he hated her.

“I’d only just met dad and he was so, well, you know,” he continued, “everyone knew him, everyone loved him, people would walk up to him on the street and he’d treat them like an old friend and watching him with Maria and Luis… They were like the perfect family I always imagined as a kid, I was so jealous that Luis got to have that when I didn’t and I was-” his arms wrapped tighter around his legs and his head dropped forward, muffling his next words in his knees “-the last time I spoke to Mom I got so mad, because I was seeing this life I could’ve had and I hated that she’d taken that away from me.”

Carmen had never mentioned that Miguel had found his father to anyone, at least not to anyone outside of her family. Johnny almost certainly knew, he would’ve still been looking for Miguel at that time and the information would’ve been relevant, which meant Robby probably knew as well, since he was helping his father in his search.

“I’m sure she was just trying to protect you,” Eli said, uncomfortable and not sure what he was supposed to do with his hands.

He wanted to reach out, offer some comfort, but he was still feeling the rougher emotions he’d been holding back for too long scratching under his skin. Whether he was doing it on purpose or not, Miguel was threatening to smother him in that soft guilt that made him want to give in, go easy on his boyfriend to protect him.

But he couldn’t let that keep happening. “You don’t want to see her again, to at least apologise?”

“I can’t. I know how badly I hurt my mom and yaya when I left,” Miguel said, still refusing to lift his head and voice brittle, “I’m not putting them through that again. Never again.”

“You… you actually think that seeing you again would hurt them?”

Eli could barely believe what he was hearing, couldn’t grasp even the thinnest thread of logic that would’ve led his boyfriend to this point.

When he didn’t get a response, he growled softly and shuffled back in closer, enough that he could grab hold of each side of Miguel’s head and force him to look up, see the desperation in his eyes. “Miguel, they love you. They still miss you every damn day, what the fuck makes you think you’d hurt them by going home? They think you’re dead! Do you know what your mom would give to have her son back?”

Despair was still the predominant feeling he was picking up from Miguel’s expression, but there was also some of that anger that he usually tried to keep buried around Eli burning in his eyes. It showed with the forceful way he pulled out of Eli’s grasp.

“My mom abandoned everything; all of her family except Yaya, all her friends, everything she knew and loved, because of my father-” he wasn’t quite meeting Eli’s gaze, staring fixedly at a point on his shoulder, but his tight posture uncurled as he spoke “-she never told me much about him, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew he was dangerous, I knew he was probably doing some illegal shit, but I went looking for him anyway and when I found him, when I started to see exactly what he was involved in, I stayed.”

His shoulder nudged Eli back as he turned to face away from him, setting his feet on the floor and resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together tightly.

They were finally drilling down to the core of the real reasons Miguel was refusing to leave and Eli could only stare at him dumbfounded as he got the horrible suspicion that he knew where this might be going.

“I’m not her son anymore, I’m the son she would have had if she’d stayed in Ecuador, stayed with Dad. She left her home because she didn’t want this kind of life for me…” He let out a laugh that grated harshly against Eli’s nerves. Miguel shouldn’t sound like that, bitter and borderline hysterical. “But I found a way to make it happen anyway.”

Eli’s hand hovered in the space between them, unable to reach across those few inches that made up the infinite gap between them, but unwilling to drop it to his side and give up entirely.

What the fuck was he supposed to do here? What could he say that would make things better?

“You’re still her son, Miguel, she could never hate you,” Eli said, voice weak, even to his own ears.

“I’m not the same person anymore, Hawk. There’s a lot of things I’ve done here because it felt like I needed to in order to survive, but…” He let out another laugh that made Eli’s insides twist uncomfortably, even as it faded out into drained, shuddering breaths. “I don’t know. Maybe I haven’t changed, maybe this is just who I’ve been the whole time.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Miguel glanced at him briefly, before dropping his gaze back to his own hands, still twisting against each other, grip tight and trembling. “You’ve seen my fights, I don’t- it’s-”

Finally he found the strength to reach across and lay his hands over Miguel’s, carefully prying them apart and rubbing firm circles into his palms with his thumbs. “You do realise who you’re talking to, right?” he asked softly. “All the shit I’ve done and I was forgiven for that.”

“You were a kid who’d been manipulated by a violence-obsessed madman and you got out of there before it broke you.”

Eli froze in place, pads of his thumbs still pressing into the callused skin of Miguel’s palms.

“Do you… feel broken?”

“I- I barely even feel it anymore, when I snap someone’s bone, or choke them to the point they black out,” Miguel mumbled, voice hushed, eyes fixed firmly on the wall opposite him, “I can’t even fight in legal matches now because I have to force myself to remember where I am, what I’m not allowed to do, because every instinct I have keeps telling me to go too far.” He could feel the tremble where he was still holding Miguel’s hands and gripped them tighter, even as Miguel let out a sob and whispered, “I’m not a good person Eli, I don’t think I ever really was.”

As much as he’d been begging to be let past Miguel’s walls, to be allowed to see the ugly emotions that had been keeping him here this long, he hadn’t been expecting to find such deep self-loathing.

He wondered how long these feelings had been lurking under the surface, carefully hidden under a mask of confidence so perfect it had never occurred to Eli to question it. Not until he came here and found a version of Miguel where the cracks had started to show. But, even then, he wasn’t prepared for this.

“That’s fucking ridiculous,” Eli choked out, wishing he would just turn and look at him, “Miguel, tell me you don’t actually believe that.”

Nothing, no response, not even to argue with him.

His breathing was getting increasingly unsteady and the twitches of his fingers were growing even more noticeable, but he was still staring at the wall, refusing to acknowledge Eli’s words.

“Miguel, look at me.”

He didn’t.

Hissing out a sigh, Eli pulled their joined hands up and pressed his forehead against them trying to remember what his friends, his family, his therapists had said to him when he got lost in a guilty spiral, what had actually helped. “You’re not a bad person,” he said, already knowing that Miguel wasn’t going to believe it – he certainly hadn’t – but knowing it still needed to be said anyway, “you wouldn’t be feeling this guilty if you were.”

The fingers pressed against him were still shaking lightly, and that was the closest thing to a response he got.

“Miguel?”

Still nothing. Frowning, Eli pulled back, trying to get a better look at his boyfriend’s face, to see if his words were having any impact at all, but Miguel’s eyes were still blankly staring ahead, even as Eli leaned over and broke his line of sight with the point on the wall that had so captivated him.

Oh fuck.

“Miguel!”

Dropping Miguel’s hands – grimacing as they flopped lifelessly straight down – Eli leapt off the couch, kneeling in front of him and brushing one hand through Miguel’s hair, while the other pressed two fingers to the side of his neck.

His heartrate was definitely on the rapid side, but even as he was checking it Eli could feel the pulses against his fingertips gradually slowing down. And his breathing was fine, if a little bit laboured, but his expression was completely blank, the faint but restless twitching of his eyelids the only visible sign of life.

What was he supposed to do here? He’d seen this happen only twice before now, each time after a brutal fight and each time Eli hadn’t exactly been in the state of mind to really process what was going on.

This… was some kind of panic attack. He was reasonably confident of that, even if it wasn’t the terrified, chaotic, hyperventilating, full-body-trembling kind that Eli was more familiar with. Instead it was like Miguel had just completely shut down, even the shaking of his hands was pretty subtle when compared with the last time he’d seen Sam having an attack.

His attempts to gently get his attention went nowhere, Miguel quite obviously not seeing him, even when he was crouching right in front of him.

Ok, he just had to stay calm, this wasn’t new, it had happened before. Last time Hector and Cruz had even been able to carry Miguel from the warehouse into a car without it seeming to do any harm, other than disorienting Miguel once he finally came to, so Eli decided it was probably safe enough to reposition him so that he was lying on his side rather than sitting hunched over like he was. He stayed beside him, running trembling fingers through Miguel’s soft hair while his other hand clutched his boyfriend’s, grip alternating from tight enough to turn his knuckles white, to so gentle he could feel every light twitch and tremble against his palm.

He wasn’t quite sure how long they stayed like that – he hadn’t exactly had the forethought to check the time when Miguel started shutting down – but it was long enough that he could feel the blood flow to his feet being cut off from where he was kneeling against the hard wooden floorboards.

Eli was shifting position for the third time to try and relieve the tingling pins and needles under his skin when he heard the faint groan and his head instantly snapped back to his boyfriend.

Blinking slowly like he was just waking up, Miguel’s eyes finally settled on him with something approaching consciousness. “Hawk,” he mumbled, frowning as he seemed to realise what was wrong and rolled onto his back, “what’s going on?”

Eli didn’t let go of Miguel’s hand, but did find a sliver of space to sit on the edge of the sofa next to him so he could keep looking into his eyes. “Thank fuck, you scared the hell out of me!”

“What?”

“Miguel, you just-” he squeezed his boyfriend’s hand tighter “-you just had a panic attack or something, like, your eyes were open but you were totally out of it, you weren’t responding to me or even looking at me.”

He disentangled his hand from Eli’s so that he could press the heels of both hands into his eyes, groaning loudly, before mumbling quietly, “Fuck, not again.”

“I’ve only ever seen that happen after your fights before,” Eli said, grabbing his hands again and pulling them away from his face so they could look at each other. Though Miguel’s eyes were darting around too wildly to really hold his gaze. “Seriously, what just happened?”

“I don’t know, it’s just…” He shrugged as much as he could in his position. “I don’t know. It happens sometimes. Not sure what’s causing it, but it’s not physical, doctor’s checked already.”

“Are you ok right now?”

Miguel managed a quick nod, and began shuffling himself to sit upright, legs curling under him as he did. “Yeah, it doesn’t hurt, my arms and legs are gonna be tingling like crazy for a couple minutes-” when he held one hand out the shaking was still very visible, until he clenched his fist and pulled it back to his lap “-but I’m not really aware during the… episodes, kinda like passing out for a few minutes I guess. I don’t remember anything that happens when I get like that.”

Well, it was at least good that this wasn’t causing him pain, but that didn’t mean that having these attacks at all wasn’t still a bad sign. Eli frowned, trying to think back on if there had been any other episodes he might’ve missed. “How often does this happen?”

“Already told you I don’t remem-” Miguel cut himself off mid-word, blinking a few times before grimacing and smothering his face in his hands. “Oh, shit.”

Gently shaking his shoulder, Eli tried to get his boyfriend to look at him again. “Miguel?”

“I do get occasional memory blanks, or just times when I feel like I’ve lost a few minutes somewhere,” he said slowly, not quite meeting Eli’s gaze, but not fully avoiding it either. “I guess it’d make sense if those coincided with the episodes of… whatever it is. Still doesn’t happen often though, I don’t think I’ve had one since you’ve been living here.”

The casualness with which he spoke about it was the worst part of it, as if randomly blacking out on a semi-regular basis was the least of his problems. “Fucking hell,” he groaned, clutching his shoulder tighter for a second before finally giving in and just pulling him into a hug. “Miguel, this isn’t normal.”

“It’s not something I can control.”

“I know, I’m not saying-” Eli sighed and squeezed him tighter, even if Miguel’s arms barely seemed to have the strength to hang loosely around his waist. “I’m seriously worried about you, I know you didn’t choose to have any of this shit happen, but it’s obviously impacting you.” Pulling back just enough to look him in the eye, Eli brushed some loose curls away from his face. “Be honest with me, how much longer do you think you can carry on like this?”

The look he got in return was absolutely wretched.

“I’m sorry.”

Sighing at the obvious deflection, Eli pulled out of their embrace entirely, though he couldn’t help but keep his fingers running through Miguel’s hair. “For what?”

“I never wanted you to get stuck here with me,” he said quietly, hands still shaking slightly as he pulled them back into his lap, “look, I know what you want, but I can’t go home, Eli, I just- I don’t… I don’t fit there anymore. If you can’t accept that, maybe it would be best for you to leave without me.”

“No.”

“Please-”

“No.” He stopped stroking through dark hair and instead gently gripped Miguel’s jaw, turning his head so he couldn’t look away. “Remember what I said when all this started? If it’s a choice between going home and keeping you in my life, I’m choosing you. Every time.”

Miguel’s expression was unreadable, there was some frustration in there, but also something like despair, even as he sighed and leaned further into Eli’s hand. “That’s a stupid choice.”

“It’s the one I’ve been making every day since I first found you here,” he said quietly, “I’m not stopping now.”

“I wish you would. I don’t want you to leave. But I really wish you would.”

It was like he’d been physically struck.

Eli’s gentle grip tightened, his fingers trembling as he tried to find any other way of interpreting that statement, anything except what it sounded like.

“Miguel, what are you saying?” he asked, his voice shaking even more than the hand he refused to pull away from his partner’s face, as if the second he physically let go was going to be the same moment he would have to emotionally let go too.

“I don’t know.” Miguel looked on the verge of sobbing, but he wasn’t retreating, instead he leaned forward, not quite hugging him, but burying his forehead into Eli’s shoulder. “Being with you again has made me so happy, I can’t even tell you how much, but at the same time it’s making me really fucking stressed, I’m constantly worrying about you, and I-I know that holding onto you is only gonna end with both of us hurt and it’s selfish but I can’t bring myself to push you away, even if it’s what’s best for you.”

He could feel the wetness seeping through his shirt where Miguel’s face was pressed against him.

And he could feel the burning in his own eyes as he sucked harsh, desperate breaths into lungs that refused to hold onto them.

“Are you…” He didn’t want to make the words true by saying them out loud. But he couldn’t hold them back any more than he could hold back the tears running down his cheeks. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” Miguel pulled back suddenly and the fact that he didn’t look any better than Eli wasn’t much of a comfort. “I’m saying that I can’t break up with you. So, please just walk away.” He reached both hands up, pressing his thumbs against Eli’s cheeks and carefully wiping his tears away, before pulling him closer to rest their foreheads together. “If you leave I’ll accept it, but I can’t be the one to end things, I-”

Eli pulled back sharply, staring in disbelief, feeling dizzy and nauseous and one more painful word away from shattering.

Before he realised what he was doing, he’d already shoved Miguel onto his back and shuffled onto his lap, hovering over him, pressing his hands to each side of his face, hold too tight to be cradling him, but he was too distressed to take the kind of care with Miguel that he normally would, too frantic to hide the almost possessive need to hold onto him.

“I’m not doing that. Stop talking like this, stop thinking like this,” he was begging and he didn’t care how desperate it was, “the only way I’m leaving is if you’re coming with me.”

“I’m not leaving.”

There it was; his last hope that they would ever get out of this awful situation, crushed by a broken whisper.

But, his decision had been set in stone from the second he was first reunited with Miguel. He could have his regrets about everything else, his parents, his friends, the aspirations and life he was leaving behind, but he was never going to regret any of that more than he’d regret leaving Miguel alone in this place, in this state.

He didn’t care how unhealthy it was, he couldn’t let go any more than Miguel could.

“Then neither am I.”

Miguel only cried harder at that, his hands wrapping in the fabric of Eli’s top and twisting tightly before he pulled him down, once again burying his head against Eli’s neck, tears tickling against his skin. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t-” he manoeuvred so he could press a hard kiss to Miguel’s lips, getting a tired sob in return “-don’t ever ask me to do something like that again, ok?” Pulling back to look into his eyes, Eli felt a fresh wave of tears building, but managed to keep his voice low and clear when he quietly said, “That was cruel.”

“I’m sorry.” Miguel slowly let go of his shirt, instead wrapping his arms behind his back and pulling him as close as possible. “Fuck, I’m- I shouldn’t have-”

Sighing and tangling them together so tightly he hoped no one would ever be able to pull them apart again, Eli pressed a gentler kiss to Miguel’s temple. “No, you shouldn’t have, but I’ll forgive you-” he already knew he would forgive anything at this point “-just don’t ask me to let go of you again, because I can’t.”

Stroking one hand through his lover’s hair, silently forgiving every relentless apology murmured into his skin, Eli wondered how much longer this could possibly last before it broke them both.

---

Translations:

^[186] I still think the puppy and his… friend should be left here. This is an important meeting, he’s going to be a liability ^{[return to text]}

^[187] You have concerns, Saul? ^{[return to text]}

^[188] I want my son to start getting more involved in the business, how will he learn without experience? ^{[return to text]}

^[189] He’s not ready, the gringo even less so ^{[return to text]}

^[190] If things go south here it’s your ass on the line, try to control yourself and your pet, wild dog ^{[return to text]}

^[191] You’re the one barking like a dog, Saul ^{[return to text]}

^[192] Now be alert ^{[return to text]}

^[193] Rueda, it’s good to see you again! ^{[return to text]}

^[194] Thank you Hector, always a pleasure ^{[return to text]}

^[195] I wish we had more time for pleasantries, but business must come first ^{[return to text]}

^[196] Of course, I am quite interested in seeing more of your operation in person ^{[return to text]}

^[197] Actually, I had some things I wished to discuss with you, there will be opportunities to observe in the future ^{[return to text]}

^[198] I would know what I’m buying into before I commit ^{[return to text]}

^[199] Then I’m sure your son is quite capable of assessing my operation and reporting back to you, I am confident you’ll be impressed. Dorantes- ^{[return to text]}

^[200] -give him the full tou- ^{[return to text]}

^[201] My son stays with me ^{[return to text]}

^[202] You understand our partnership exists only in potential at this time, I have no reason to trust you with my family ^{[return to text]}

^[203] Of course, if you would like to send another of your crew… ^{[return to text]}

^[204] Then let’s go, I’m sure we have much to discuss ^{[return to text]}

^[205] This one understand us? ^{[return to text]}

^[206] Our boys picked these ones up in Panama, we do regular sweeps of the area. Don’t have the fees to pay our coyotes, so they’re paying with labour ^{[return to text]}

^[207] No resistance? ^{[return to text]}

^[208] They already crossed the Darién just to get here, doesn’t get more desperate, they understand our generosity with this arrangement- ^{[return to text]}

^[209] -besides, not like it’s gonna get any better for them once they actually get to the States. Best they get used to it now ^{[return to text]}

^[210] I assume you don’t intend to transport them through Mexico City on the way to Tijuana. There’s more direct routes ^{[return to text]}

^[211] Our main concern is competition and resources; Saavedra’s group has been disrupting our operations. You have connections that could give us an edge ^{[return to text]}

^[212] Hector has many friends ^{[return to text]}

^[213] Friends of yours also? ^{[return to text]}

^[214] I keep my relationships professional ^{[return to text]}

^[215] But yes, I am very familiar with his network. They understand how we do business ^{[return to text]}

^[216] We got some friends too. Old friends of your boss, though way we hear it they didn’t part on the best of terms ^{[return to text]}

^[217] Didn’t realise Rueda has connections as far as Ecuador, I’m sure Hector would be happy to make peace with his countrymen ^{[return to text]}

^[218] We also got good relations with most of your competition, and neutral ground ^{[return to text]}

^[219] A factor Rueda is considering ^{[return to text]}

^[220] Best not consider too much, some deals can only stay on the table so long ^{[return to text]}

Chapter Text

---

Miguel’s body was heavy against him as Hawk half-supported half-dragged him out into the cool night air, warehouse door slamming behind them.

He carefully lowered him down, leaning his back against the concrete wall and making sure he was going to stay there before he opened the first-aid kit he had been holding in the hand that hadn’t been wrapped around Miguel’s body. Crouching in front of him, Hawk wished he’d had the foresight to grab a towel or something, but he wasn’t about to leave Miguel for even a second to go grab one. So instead he pulled out a roll of bandages and shakily unravelled the whole thing and pressed them against Miguel’s chest, grimacing at how quickly they turned from white to red.

“Hold them there for a minute,” he muttered, waiting until Miguel’s hands replaced his, keeping a firm pressure against the wound, before he began digging around for antiseptic and yet more bandages.

The night had been going well – as well as it ever could be when Miguel was fighting – right up until Hector had decided that his last opponent should be given a knife before stepping into the cage.

Miguel had won, barely, but not before taking a nasty slash across half his chest and several smaller nicks to his arms. The second he staggered out of the cage, Eli had been dragging him outside, away from the stifling, crowded, smoke-filled air inside the warehouse where he could look after Miguel’s wounds away from any prying eyes. Perhaps he should have left it to the medics who were usually in charge of patching up the fighters, but he didn’t fully trust them and Miguel hadn’t objected.

Finally locating a bottle of antiseptic hidden in a side pocket, he winced and apologised before pulling Miguel’s hand and the bandages – now sticky with blood – away.

The strangled cry was expected, but that didn’t make him feel any better about it as he tried to clean Miguel’s wounds as quickly as possible to spare him any excess pain. As soon as that was done, he started dressing the cut across his chest. He finished off the wrapping, securing the end tightly, hating that he’d gotten so good at this over the last few months, then glanced up.

“Fuck.” He reached up and pressed his hands to either side of Miguel’s face, tilting his head back to meet his gaze.

His eyes had that increasingly familiar distant haze to them that signalled he wasn’t fully present.

“No, no, no, not now, you’ve gotta wake up,” Eli said, forcing his voice to stay quiet, though he couldn’t keep the panic from filtering into his tone if he tried. He should’ve expected something like this could happen, he already knew that too much physical or mental stress would put Miguel in this state; unresponsive and unaware of his surroundings.

He could usually keep it together long enough that it wouldn’t happen part-way through an event though.

Miguel’s next match was going to be in about – he pulled his phone out to check the time – thirty, maybe forty minutes, if they were lucky and the next few bouts really dragged on. There was absolutely no way he could fight in this condition. If he wasn’t back to normal before he was called into the ring, he was going to be killed. And even if Hector showed a modicum of decency and called the match off, or delayed it until his son was fit to fight, the odds that he would let the inconvenience go unpunished were slim.

“Fuck, Miguel, please don’t do this now.”

Eli’s hand was shaking where it was still resting against his partner’s blank face, his other gripping his phone tightly enough it was a miracle he hadn’t cracked the screen yet, but he couldn’t let go and didn’t dare break contact with Miguel, as if he could bring him back to reality through physical touch alone.

He didn’t know what to do.

Dealing with this kind of thing wasn’t his strong suit, it was always more Tory’s…

Tory.

She had taken a few classes on helping people through panic attacks and dissociative episodes and the like – that had to be what this was, right? – she was always the first one to help the various members of their friend group whenever they were going through something similar. Even Hawk himself had been guided through a few sensory overloads with her help. If anyone could give him advice, it’d be Tory.

Perhaps if he’d sat with the thought for a minute or two longer he would have second guessed his actions, but with Miguel still not responding to him and the pressure of not knowing when someone was going to come looking for them weighing on him, he didn’t have time to think.

The plain ringtone was already sounding against his ear before he even realised he had unlocked his phone and unblocked her number.

By the third ring he was starting to question if this was a good idea, but it didn’t matter because it was at that point that Tory’s voice replaced it. “Dude, what the hell?”

There were several other voices clamouring in the background, Sam and Demetri’s the easiest to pick out, which suddenly became a lot louder – though slightly distorted – after a few seconds, so he’d probably been put on speaker. It was annoying, because now he had even more people involved, but he had bigger problems to worry about right now.

“Eli! Are you ok? What happened?”

“What the fuck have you been doing?”

“Where are you? We’re out looking for you right now-”

He cut off the barrage of questions within seconds. “Tory, if someone’s having some kind of… dissociative panic attack thing, how do you snap them out of it?”

There was a brief pause where the line went silent and Eli knew logically that it probably only lasted a few seconds, but with how desperate he was to get answers it felt like hours. “Are you having a panic attack?”

“Not me.” Though he wouldn’t be surprised if he sounded like he was. “Please, it’s important and I’m kinda freaking out here.”

“Uh, ok-” there was a crackly huff of air and a sharp shushing that cut off the more distant voices of their other friends in the background “-are they responding to you at all?”

“No, he’s just sitting down staring into space, doesn’t react to me talking or touching him.”

“Accelerated breathing?”

He carefully examined Miguel’s shallow inhales and exhales for a moment. “A bit shaky, he’s not hyperventilating though.”

“Head injury?”

“Uh…” Shit, had Miguel taken a blow to the head earlier? He thought back on the fights he’d seen, but he was pretty sure that he hadn’t, nothing that was likely to have caused a concussion at least. “I don’t think so. He has several injuries in other places.”

Tory hummed in that familiar way she usually did when she was mentally working through a puzzle. “Any spasming, or risk of him injuring himself further?”

He groaned, grip unconsciously tightening on his phone as he tried to resist throwing it against the alley wall in frustration, voice cracking when he said, “No, he’s not- he’s just not doing anything. I could move his arm around and it’d just stay in whatever position I left it, it’s not the first time this has happened but it normally takes him at least twenty minutes to get back to normal but we really don’t have time right now-”

“Eli, breathe,” Tory snapped, her hard tone somehow bypassing his brain and hitting his lungs directly to get them working again, “you’re not going to do him any favours if you start having a panic attack yourself.”

Nodding even though she couldn’t see it, he forced himself to slow down his breathing. She was right, he needed to stay at least somewhat calm.

“Where are you?” Chris asked, his low voice tinged with worry even as he spoke with that slow, calming tone he usually brought out when a fight broke out in the group. “We can come help; we were already out looking for you so we might even be nearby if our investigations have led us to the right area.”

The others could help, they could-

They could make things worse. If they found out about Miguel they were going to freak out, and Miguel would definitely panic and if anyone in Hector’s gang saw them then they were likely all screwed.

“No, you guys can’t be here, I-I just need advice for how to get him to wake up.”

Tory groaned loudly. “You know that’s not how this sort of thing works,” she said, voice balancing on that razors-edge between sharp and soft she so often teetered on, “if he’s completely unresponsive it sounds like maybe some kind of dissociative seizure. You can’t just snap someone out of that, they have to wake up on their own, all you can do is make sure he’s in a safe position and keep talking to him calmly, he’s probably gonna be a little freaked when he comes to.”

He’s gonna be worse if this goes on too long.

“Seriously, Eli, where are you, we’ll help, we’re not even mad anymore, jus-”

He didn’t bother hearing out whatever Sam had to say, dropping the phone to the ground barely even remembering to hang up.

They could just leave.

Miguel wasn’t going to fight him in this state. He could just pick him up and they could leave, go somewhere else, anywhere else. Get out of the city, get away from Hector, give his partner the space he desperately needed to realise that – as much as he felt like it – he wasn’t trapped here. Maybe that distance would make him realise that he could still come home, or even move somewhere new, just be anywhere that wasn’t here.

What other options did they have? As much as Miguel didn’t want to rock the boat, they couldn’t stay here, not with the way things had been going. It was obvious that the strain was getting to him, something had to change and if he wasn’t going to take that first step, then Eli would have to push him.

Wasn’t that the whole reason he had chased after him like this in the first place?

He was distantly aware that his phone was ringing, the generic ringtone sharp in the nighttime air – though it still wasn’t quite enough to fully break through his haze – but when he glanced down and saw Tory’s name lit up on the screen he couldn’t even bring himself to reject the call.

The longer he thought about it, the clearer it became to him that running was the best option for them. Miguel wouldn’t like it, but he could be pissed at Hawk later when he was safe, hell, maybe he could grab Maria and Luis on the way out of here, convince them to come with him, then Miguel wouldn’t even have his usual excuse for wanting to stay.

How hard could it be to make them abandon their lives here? If they saw the state Miguel was in, they would have to understand why they all needed to leave, right? Maria was already at least open to the idea in theory, even if she hadn’t fully accepted it as a real possibility.

Yeah, he could do this, the hardest part would probably be getting to Maria’s house before Hector started wondering where his son had disappeared to and thought to start looking for him-

His phone was ringing again, in fact it hadn’t stopped ringing, every time the tune cut out it was replaced within seconds.

-he would have to move fast though. It was already going to be a pain dragging a half-conscious Miguel halfway across the city, plus he would probably need to try and avoid any busy main roads because they would look suspicious as fuck with Miguel’s injuries. But, if he was going to do this, he needed to do it now, because if he waited much longer someone was going to come looking for them, or Miguel might wake up and take the decision out of his hands, or-

There were footsteps coming closer and Eli suddenly felt the panic gripping him.

If that was someone in Hector’s gang then they were both fucked. He had to make a decision now, or they were never going to get a better chance to get away.

Miguel made a low noise as Eli hefted him into a more upright position, preparing to lift him off the ground – glaring at his phone as it started ringing yet again – when the rush of footsteps behind him suddenly got a lot louder and faster, and familiar yet unintelligible voices began filtering through the haze in his head before they came to an abrupt halt.

“Eli, finally! What the hell have you been doing man, we’ve been looking for you for, like, two months!”

The blood instantly froze in his veins.

He slowly turned his head, not wanting to look behind him – because the second that he did he wouldn’t be able to pretend that voice hadn’t just been his mind playing tricks on him – but unable to stop his neck from twisting. He hadn’t needed the visual confirmation, but there Tory was, staring in shock, but not at him.

“Holy fucking shit.”

And she wasn’t alone. Everyone else was with her, all of them looking equally as shaken; mouths agape, eyes wide, Sam holding onto Chris like her legs were about to give out on her.

Glancing back, Miguel still wasn’t quite awake yet, expression completely blank when Eli knew for a fact that he’d be freaking out hard about all this if he was aware of the other’s presence. They were more than capable of picking up Miguel’s slack in the freaking out department however.

“That’s impossible.”

“This isn’t real, no way, how-”

“Miguel!” Sam practically threw herself at the man, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders and squeezing. His weak groan was enough to make her let go, though she didn’t back away very far, hands still hovering at his arms when she must’ve noticed the bandages wrapped around his chest. “Miguel, what the hell happened, what- where have you been?”

He blinked at her, brows furrowing slightly like he was struggling to remember her face, but it was a sign that he was slowly coming back to reality.

Shoving Sam back, Eli took her place and gently cradled his face with both hands. “Miguel, you’ve gotta snap out of it, you remember where we are?”

Staring blankly at him, Miguel barely managed to mumble a response, “Fight…”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said, ignoring the confused noises behind him and the heated stares he could feel on his back, “I’m sorry, but this is a really bad time for you to crash like this, you need to wake up, quick.”

Demetri’s sharp voice cut over his attempts to soothingly coax Miguel back, “Eli, what’s going on, why’s he so out of it? Is this why you called Tory?”

“C’mon Miguel, you can hear me, right?”

“Uh, is he bleeding?” Chris’ voice was pitching up in panic and he really did not need this shit right now, not when half of him was focused on trying to get his partner back in the present moment, and the other half was terrified of how badly Miguel was going to react to this once he succeeded in doing that.

A hard blink, another soft mumble, “Hawk…”

His hands were shaking with adrenaline now, but he kept them pressed to Miguel’s cheeks, for what little comfort they could offer. “Yeah, I’m right here, please, pl-”

“Eli, this is getting scary now, what the fuck’s going on?” Sam was at his side again, eyes flicking rapidly between Eli and Miguel, hands hovering in the air in front of her. Clearly she wanted to do something, but was paralysed by uncertainty, or fear.

“Just give him some space,” he snapped, hearing the tremor to his own voice but unable to care about hiding it for once.

Miguel’s head dropped a little, a pained hiss and slurred Spanish curse slipping from his lips.

“He’s acting kinda concussed, let me check him over.” Tory didn’t wait for approval, just pushed both Sam and Eli out of the way and started by using the torch on her phone to check Miguel’s pupils.

His hand snapped out and smacked away the intrusive light within seconds and, like a switch had been flipped, suddenly the awareness was back in his eyes and he was finally taking in the situation around him, breathing picking up rapidly. He gaped at the sudden appearance of all his old friends – and Robby – and Eli could only imagine how disorienting it must be for him, considering that the last thing he likely remembered was fighting for his life fifteen minutes ago.

Miguel’s head snapped to face Hawk and he actually shrank away at the pure fury he saw in his intense glare.

“You told them?”

“No-” he waved his hands in front of him, desperately shaking his head “-I swear I didn’t, I don’t even know how they found me-”

Sam made a strangled noise. “Told us what? That you’ve been alive this whole time and never thought to let us know?” When the only reaction she got from Miguel was an icy stare, she whirled on Eli instead. “And how long have you known?”

He glanced at Miguel, but he was only looking more and more agitated with every passing second. Eli suspected that things were about to get really bad.

“Doesn’t matter, you all need to get out of here, right now,” Miguel said, voice hard and cold, just like it had been when Eli had first found him here. It had been so long since he’d heard him sound like that, he’d almost forgotten how closed-off Miguel had been back then.

He was going to try and push everyone away.

The others finally stepped in closer – though Robby notably held back and in fact hadn’t said a single word since showing up – Demetri leading the charge with his long arms flailing around as they often did when he was particularly emotional. “Uh, I think it does matter actually,” he said, staring desperately at Miguel, “I think we deserve to know what’s going on, you can’t just expect us to not have any questions about… about everything.”

“Have all the questions you want, I don’t owe you any answers.” He had that same tight frown that was always present on his face when talking to members of his father’s gang, same confident, aggressive air that somehow wasn’t ruined despite being pretty roughed-up and clearly in pain whenever he moved. “Leave.”

“No way. We are not leaving you behind Miguel, do you even know what everyone went through when you ran away?” Tory asked, sounding that special kind of pissed off that she only reached when she was at her most fragile.

Chris laid a calming hand on her shoulder. “We all thought you were dead, man, we mourned you.”

“I can’t fucking deal with this right now,” Miguel said, voice sounding exhausted, even as his body was still lightly trembling in rage. “All of you just… get out of here, I never want to see any of you again.” He pushed himself to his feet, stumbling slightly, though he caught himself quickly and drew back when Eli moved to steady him.

Sam made a strangled noise, then stepped into Miguel’s space, backing him against the wall and trapping him there with an arm to each side of him. If she noticed the way he immediately tensed up and had to cut off a brief growl, she was too angry to let it stop her from practically screaming in his face, “You’re seriously telling us to go away? What about your mom and grandma? What about Johnny? You don’t think they’d want to know you’re ok?”

It was only because he was looking out for it that Eli caught the brief flash of grief in Miguel’s eyes before they hardened again. “I can’t stop you telling them, but if you do, you’re only going to hurt them. Let them keep thinking I’m dead, it’s better that way.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, you think they wouldn’t want to know that you’re still alive?”

“I don’t want them to know, and I don’t want my old life anywhere near my new one,” Miguel said, shouldering Sam away more roughly than he ever would have in the past before taking a few steps towards the door leading back into the warehouse, the same kind of careful smoothness to his movements that Eli had grown quite familiar with while he was recovering from his fractured knee; he was trying to cover up his pain. “If you guys ever considered me a friend, please respect that.”

Mitch braved coming up next to Miguel, though he halted in place when their old friend’s head snapped around and he hit him with the full force of his glare. Hands raised in an appeasing gesture Mitch asked, “Why wouldn’t you want your family to know you’re ok?”

Eli waited for Miguel to talk, to give any of the reasons he himself had been given over the last few weeks. He was scared, he was guilty, he was hopeless…

But they got nothing. No explanation or excuse, Miguel just remained silent.

When it became clear that he wasn’t going to be forthcoming, Demetri was the first to redirect the conversation. “How did you get so beat up anyway? What, are you in a gang or something?”

Miguel’s panic was quickly covered up again, but not fast enough.

“Holy shit, you fucking are!”

This was going off the rails fast and accusing Miguel like this wasn’t going to convince him to let them help. Hawk quickly stepped between his partner and his friends, glaring at Demetri, silently begging him to for once not put his foot in his mouth. “It wasn’t his choice,” he said, a distinct growl at the edge of his voice.

A hand landed on his shoulder and spun him around until he was facing Miguel’s furious dark eyes. “Hawk, cállate.”^[221]

Why was he making it so difficult to help him? Sighing away his sudden spike of anger, Eli slowly reached up to rest his hand over the one still tightly gripping his shoulder. “Look, I know you didn’t want them involved, but they’re here now, maybe they can help.”

“I don’t want their help, and I never wanted yours.” Miguel must’ve seen the hurt that Eli couldn’t hide, because the rage melted from his expression within seconds, leaving distress in its place. “This…” His gaze landed on their connected hands laying on Hawk’s shoulder and he snapped his arm back like he’d been burned, stumbling back until he hit the wall behind him, words mumbled and rapid when he continued, “Letting you stick around was a mistake, I never should’ve-”

Eli’s sharp inhale felt like ice slipping into his lungs.

He didn’t mean that, he’s just panicking, he probably didn’t even realise what he just said…

He could tell himself that, but it didn’t stop the pain and dread settling in his stomach. It took several attempts to speak before he managed to choke out something that almost sounded like a human voice, “Miguel-”

“You need to go,” Miguel snapped, not giving Eli a chance to try and form his hurt feelings into words, already glaring at their friends who were still hovering nearby, “you all need to go.”

Sam was the first to step forward, tightly-clenched fists trembling at her sides as she marched up and got in Miguel’s face, glaring up at him with so much rage that even with her tiny body she still managed to drive him further back into the alley wall. “No. Not until we get a real reason not to take you with us.”

“I don’t want to go isn’t reason enough?”

Her fist slammed into the wall next to Miguel’s arm with a dull thud. It must’ve hurt like a bitch, but she was apparently too angry to care, keeping her knuckles pressed into the rough concrete. “This is about more than just you Miguel, this is about everyone you’ve hurt back home.”

He was breathing heavily now, eyes wide and staring at the fist only a few inches from his arm, his own hands clenched tightly at his sides.

Eli hadn’t missed the jerk of his body as he’d had to force himself not to retaliate to the ‘attack.’

Only after taking several shaky inhales did he finally manage to speak again, shaking with something that could have been anger, distress, or fear. “Exactly. No one needs me barging back into their lives to mess everything up again, you’re all better off without me.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” Mitch asked, honest bewilderment in his voice.

And Chris didn’t sound any less confused. “Dude, you can’t really believe that.”

“From what Hawk’s told me you guys managed to fix everything back home pretty quick after I was gone,” Miguel said, calmer than before, but with that rough, bitter edge that shouldn’t belong anywhere near him, “seems like I’m the common denominator when things are constantly going to shit around me.”

Did Miguel actually think that he was the reason things in the Valley got to the fucked-up point that they did? Did he believe that was what Hawk thought?

“T-that’s not-” the words tangled in his throat as he tripped over several outright denials of Miguel’s incomprehensible statement all trying to force their way out at once “-I never said that, and that’s not what I think.”

“Then you’re a fucking idiot, because ever since you showed up here I’ve done nothing but make your life worse!”

Eli blinked at Miguel, trying to wrap his head around what he was saying and coming up more confused than he started.

He couldn’t seriously believe that.

After everything they’d been through together, surely he had to realise that Eli had been happier the last seven weeks than he’d been the previous five years. Not only happier, he’d been more alive since finding Miguel again than when he’d been basically sleepwalking through life. He had honestly forgotten what it was like to feel so intensely until that first night he saw his old friend again and every locked-up emotion within him was set free.

He had a lot of regrets for how he handled things, but he knew without a doubt that if he was thrown back in time right now, he would do it all over again.

“You haven’t made-”

The door to the warehouse suddenly clicked open and Eli felt his heart stop when Hector stepped out into the night.

He should have just grabbed Miguel and run when they had the chance.

“Miguel, por qué tardas tanto, estás peleando en...”^[222] He glanced around, taking in the group of people who definitely weren’t the kind normally attending events like this, or even the kind who’d normally be wandering in parts of the city like this. “What’s this, mijo? Making some new friends?”

Miguel’s face went completely blank as he turned to his father, lightly shoving Sam aside. “No sir, they were just leaving.”

“Like hell we are-”

Tory’s growled words were ignored by Hector as he walked closer to Miguel, staring down at him intently, even if that little smile never left his face. “Mijo. Who are they?” It wasn’t a real question, Eli would bet anything that he already knew, he was only asking to test his son.

He prayed that for once Miguel wouldn’t be stupid and try to protect them.

There was a brief moment where it looked like he was torn about how to answer, glancing back to the group before looking back at his father with a determined set to his jaw. “People I knew from back home, they don’t matter,” he said, voice calm, but guarded, as it often was when he was dealing with this side of Hector, “they’re just tourists, they came here looking for Hawk and now they’ve found him, so they’re all going to leave.”

“Tourists?” His smile dropping away, Hector levelled his son with a stare that made Eli’s skin crawl, even though it wasn’t directed at him. “Deberías recordar lo que pasó la última vez que me mentiste antes de pensar en intentarlo de nuevo.”^[223]

In an instant, Miguel’s body went completely rigid. “No estoy mintien-”^[224]

“I let Mohicano stick around because I wanted to judge for myself what he was up to-” the man’s eyes flickered over to him for a brief moment, before turning back on Miguel “-he must be a good actor, because I honestly thought he was just a fool obsessed with you, but now a whole bunch of your old gringo friends show up, in a place where untrustworthy people are not welcome…” He sighed, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe his own words. “So now I have to consider the possibility that my own son might betray me. Can you imagine what that does to a father?”

“Father?” Demetri squeaked, managing to speak for the entire group if the shocked looks on everyone’s faces were anything to go by.

Miguel ignored them though, too busy staring at Hector in disbelief, voice cracking when he asked, “What, you think I’m some deep-cover plant or something?”

“I think you’ve brought trouble right to my doorstep.”

“What threat could they possibly pose to you?” Miguel’s voice was getting sharper by the second, that calm mask he usually tried to put up around Hector melting away as he gestured towards his old friends and said, “None of them are cops or whatever the hell it is you’re thinking they are!”

The laugh Hector let out was utterly humourless. “You think a bunch of yanquis^[225] are gonna let this go? What happens when they go home, hm? When they tell the feds about my business?”

“Tell them what? They haven’t seen anything, and I’m sure the feds have bigger things to worry about than some two-bit-”

Miguel’s voice cut off when Hector’s hand snapped up like he was actually about to hit him, before he instead reached calmly into his jacket, pulling out his gun.

There were several muttered curses from behind them as the rest of the group realised exactly what kind of situation they’d gotten themselves into, while Miguel stared at the pistol like a snake, eyes unblinking and intent like nothing else in the world existed.

Hector hadn’t even bothered to aim it, simply held it at his side, an unspoken threat, as he softly said, “Your friends are not going anywhere; I won’t let them interfere with my work.”

Daring a brief glance back, Eli saw the expressions on everyone’s faces – fear, rage, worry, disbelief – and wondered how differently things might have gone if he’d not been such a coward and just let them in on what was going on with Miguel sooner. Because he couldn’t see this ending well, no matter what happened now.

“No.” Miguel very deliberately stepped between his father and everyone else, broad back strong and immoveable. “You’ll let them all go. Unharmed.”

Hector let out a huff of air that might have been a laugh, raising a brow. “Will I?”

Standing up even straighter, Miguel tilted his head back to stare his father in the eye. “Los dejaras ir, o yo no lucharé,”^[226] he said, voice low, but calm and completely composed. “La próxima pelea es dos contra uno, eso siempre genera mucho moneda. ¿Cuáles son mis probabilidades? ¿Cuánto puedes perder si no peleo?”^[227]

Eli was holding his breath as he watched Hector’s eyes narrow with each word out of Miguel’s mouth, silently praying that whatever plan he had was going to work, because he had no other ideas on how to get them out of this.

“¿Qué tan bien puedes controlar a esta multitud si no obtienen lo que vinieron a buscar?”^[228] he continued quietly and, despite not being able to see his face from this angle, Eli knew that there would be fire in his eyes.

There was a painfully long moment where Hector didn’t react, before his gaze hardened just slightly. “Ya sabes lo que les pasa a los hombres que renuncian, mijo.”^[229]

“Lo recuerdo. Déjalos ir o no peleo.”^[230]

Eli nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a fleeting touch against his arm, head snapping around to face Sam who was staring pleadingly up at him. She was probably only catching half of what Miguel and Hector were saying and desperate to know what was going on, or desperate to do something to help, but he could only shake his head at her. Right now he wasn’t sure what any of them could do that wouldn’t make things worse.

The movement from Sam must have caught Hector’s attention as well, because his eyes flicked across to them. “I do not trust them not to cause trouble,” he said slowly, keeping his gaze fixed on where the group was clustering around Eli and Sam, even though his words were clearly directed towards his son.

Miguel didn’t bother to look back, still staring up at his father. “They won’t tell anyone.”

Although his posture remained strong and confident, Eli couldn’t help but notice the slight hesitation in his voice. He didn’t fully believe they wouldn’t try to get involved. And why would he? He knew what everyone was like, how determined they could be when they were properly motivated and what had Hawk done since finding him but prove to him time and time again that he would go to any lengths – no matter how dangerous – for Miguel, no matter what?

Glaring back down at Miguel, Hector scoffed. “You are naïve.”

“If anything happens that messes with your business, you’ll assume it was because of them, right?” Miguel still refused to turn back and look at his friends, but Eli could see his shoulders tensing up when he said, “I’m the one vouching for them, so… I’m the one who gets the punishment if they cause you trouble.”

Eli’s blood ran cold.

“Miguel, you can’t be serious-” What the fuck was the self-sacrificing idiot thinking? He attempted to march forwards, grab Miguel by the shoulders and shake some sense into him, but was stopped by hands grabbing his arms and holding him back. Growling and glaring over his shoulder, he saw Chris and Demetri staring back at him, anxious and terrified.

He didn’t shake them off, but snapped his head back around when he heard a low voice speaking up, “Mijo-”

“No special treatment because I’m your son, I get it. I know exactly what the cost would be, and I’m sure they can make a guess,” Miguel said, finally looking back to where Hawk was still being restrained by his friends.

His eyes landed on Eli for several long seconds and he couldn’t bring himself to look away, even as those beautiful dark eyes eventually flickered away, darting between different members of the group, softening slightly with each familiar face they landed on.

“If they’re the people I remember, they won’t put me in that position.”

There were several distressed noises behind him, but that wasn’t enough to rip Eli’s eyes away from Miguel.

He could barely hear Hector over the rushing of blood in his ears when he spoke again, “And if they aren’t?”

“Are you going to let them go or not?” Miguel asked, finally turning away from Eli to face his father again.

For a distressingly long time, Hector didn’t react. He stared at Miguel intently, as if waiting for a crack to show, any sign of weakness he could exploit. But Miguel stayed resolute, even if his breathing was a little shallow and shaky.

He was still afraid of Hector, but not more than he was afraid for his friends.

Hector let out a long sigh, reaching out his free hand to lightly pat his son’s head – Eli growled when he saw Miguel flinch just slightly at the touch. “You’re a clever boy Miguel, I am glad to see that my lessons are sinking in.”

As if it had never left, that ever-present smile was back on Hector’s face and the laughter was back in his voice.

“Very well, los turistas^[231] may go home. Unharmed. I will even be generous and let Mohicano go with them.” The hand on Miguel’s head went from gentle patting to gripping at the long curls there tight enough to make him wince. “But you don’t make demands of me again, understand?” he asked, fixing his son with a hard stare that didn’t match the soft curve to his lips.

Miguel’s voice was strained, but firm, “Yes sir.”

“No te muevas.”^[232]

The words had barely left his mouth before Hector was swinging his other hand around, landing the butt of his gun heavily against Miguel’s eyebrow, just barely missing his actual eye.

Only Chris and Demetri’s tight grip on his shoulders held Hawk back from charging the man.

Miguel grunted at the hit, but his reaction was way too muted. He was too used to this. Hector released the grip on his son’s hair, ruffling it slightly before idly replacing his pistol in its usual discreet holster. After readjusting his jacket, he wiped a gentle finger across the blood already streaming into Miguel’s left eye from the cut in the thin skin of his brow, though within seconds it was replaced, forcing him to keep that eye tightly shut.

Sighing, Hector took a few steps back, his entire demeanour shifting from intense and smothering to his usual open and charming performance as he dragged open the door back into the warehouse, calling back over his shoulder, “Voy a anunciar que estás peleando con desventaja; me vas a hacer ganar mucho dinero esta noche. Intenta no perder.”^[233]

He was seriously going to make Miguel fight against two opponents half-blinded?

“Dos minutos. Si no estás en el ring lo considero una rendición.”^[234]

The door slamming shut behind him echoed along the empty midnight alleys, leaving everyone standing in shock for several long seconds, only the sounds of their erratic breathing to break the sudden silence.

Eli felt the second the hands holding onto his arms loosened and didn’t hesitate to break free of them, rushing forwards, reaching out to brush his fingers along his partner’s back. “Miguel-”

His touch was immediately rejected, Miguel jerking harshly away. “Get out of here, all of you, and don’t come back.”

“I’m staying,” he said, closing the distance between them again and carefully reaching up to try and stem the flow of blood into Miguel’s eye.

His hand was quickly slapped away. “No, you’re not. I don’t trust my dad to keep his word so you’re going with everyone else to keep them safe, make sure no one tails you-” the one eye he could keep open landed directly on Eli, burning into him with that fire he had always loved “-and then you’re going home with them.”

“No.”

Miguel made a frustrated noise as he rammed the heel of his hand into the wound on his eyebrow, eyes squeezing shut at the pain, though it still wasn’t enough to make him stop. “This isn’t up for discussion, Hawk, I’m not caving again.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he said, wondering if everyone else could hear how roughly he’d had to force the words from his rapidly constricting throat.

But, even if nobody else recognised his grief, Miguel definitely did.

His expression twisted into a kind of agony that had nothing to do with his physical injuries. Stepping closer to Eli, he leaned over so his lips were close enough to Eli’s ear that he could feel the short, sharp breaths against his skin.

“You were right the other day. It was cruel of me to ask you to be the one to end this,” he whispered, before leaning away again, his hand hesitantly dropping away from his brow and reaching out towards Eli. Then his eyes flickered over to it, to the blood staining his skin, and he quickly pulled it back to his side. “So, I’m not asking you to. I’m sorry, but please, just… go home. Please. I don’t want you here anymore.”

Not waiting for Eli to gather his bearings, Miguel was already walking away and pulling open the door that would lead him back to the violence he had been trapped in for years.

Only a soft voice in the still night air made him hesitate, “What about your mom and grandma? And Johnny?”

Robby speaking up was a shock, considering he hadn’t said a word since the gang had first appeared.

Hand still holding the door, Miguel glanced over at him, an unreadable look on his face as he and Robby stared intently at each other, until he dropped his gaze to the floor. “Just let them keep thinking I’m dead,” he said quietly, his last words echoing after him as he disappeared into the building, “if you guys don’t get out of here soon I probably will be.”

---

They all piled into the room that he had previously been sharing with Chris and Mitch, everyone staggering to collapse against whatever surfaces were available; the three beds, the two armchairs near the window. The floor in Robby’s case.

Eli hovered near the door, not sure that sitting down would do anything to help the way the ground felt like it was constantly shifting and tilting under him.

The walk back to the hotel had probably been extremely awkward for everyone else. Eli had been too stressed trying to keep watch for any discreet tails the group might have picked up to notice how everyone else was feeling though. He was pretty sure they got away without being followed and couldn’t help feeling that it was a bad sign that they were apparently so far beneath Hector’s concern.

It certainly didn’t mean anything good for Miguel.

Even after everyone else had sat down no one spoke, all seemingly trapped in their own heads as they tried to process everything that had happened. Demetri was staring hard at Eli, his mouth moving slightly as it often did when he was mentally working through a problem, if he were a little closer Eli might’ve been able to hear him muttering softly to himself. Chris had slumped into an armchair and was staring at the floor with a deep frown on his face, while Mitch was restlessly fidgeting with the sheets on his bed, picking at non-existent bits of fluff.

Tory had chosen to sit on what had been Hawk’s bed when they first arrived here, facing away from the rest of the group, but the obvious tension in her shoulders and way her hands were clenching the edge of the mattress suggested that she was just trying to hide her expression. And, lying on the floor, looking up at the ceiling, Robby seemed completely zoned out, processing in his usual silent way.

It was Sam who Eli kept finding his eyes dragged back to though, sitting completely rigid on the bed, fists clenching and unclenching in her lap, glaring daggers at him like she hadn’t since they were on opposite sides of the dojo war.

He glanced at her knuckles, crusted with reddish-brown blood from where she had punched the alley wall earlier and splitting each time she clenched her fists. “You should clean that wound before-”

The fury in her expression made it clear that her bleeding hands were the furthest thing from her mind right now.

“Start talking.”

His mouth dropped open, but no sound escaped him and within seconds he was closing it again. What was he supposed to say? How did he even begin explaining everything that had just happened? Everything that had been happening for over three months? How much could he divulge without breaking what little trust Miguel had left in him now?

Sam must’ve taken his silence for refusal, because her glare deepened and her fingers turned white from the strength of her grip when she said, “You’re not going to say anything?”

“Look I can’t just… explain all of- of everything, I didn’t exactly have a speech prepared for this shit!” he managed to snap, scowling down at the carpet, backing up against the door. He wondered if it was too late to just escape the room, run back to the warehouse and beg Miguel to see some sense.

But he had no doubt that Miguel would react even worse than Sam was now if Hawk showed up in front of him again.

Sighing heavily, he crossed his arms, but remained staring fixedly at the floor, refusing to meet any of the intense gazes every one of his friends was throwing at him. “You want answers, ask something more specific.”

He could hear the shuffling of various bodies as everyone glanced at each other.

Chris broke the uncertain silence, squinting up at Eli from his seat. “Was this the reason you wanted to come down here in the first place?”

He blinked at the insinuation, finally dragging his gaze away from the carpet to see in the other’s expressions how many of them might be thinking along the same lines. “I didn’t have any more reason to think he was still alive than any of you did, finding him was a total coincidence,” he said, rapidly tapping his fingertips against his crossed arms for what little grounding the sensation offered.

“How long have you known that Miguel was here?” Sam asked, voice tight and brittle with tension.

This wasn’t going to end well for him.

“I found him about two weeks after we got here.”

He’d been expecting the outcry from almost the entire group, but that didn’t make the sudden rush of several voices talking over each other at once any more comfortable to listen to.

After the initial commotion died down, Mitch was the first to try talking again. “The fuck man! That’s almost three months ago now, you’ve known that long and you didn’t tell us?”

“Figured if I told you, you’d all insist on seeing him,” he said, shrinking further into the door, wishing it could just swallow him whole, “he already wasn’t happy about me being around, if we all piled on him at once he would’ve just pushed us all away even harder. It took, like, three weeks before he stopped yelling at me to fuck off and leave him alone every time I saw him, except now it’s back to square one again. Thanks for that.”

Tory threw a pillow at him, the shock of it making him jump even if it didn’t hurt at all. “No. You don’t get to be a bitch about this, you didn’t tell us anything about what was going on, if we’d known then we could have been helping earlier!”

“Miguel didn’t want you to know.” It was a weak defence; he knew that even before he said it.

“What, so you get to know that he’s alive, but we don’t?” Sam asked, disbelief bleeding from her shaking voice. “Did he think we wouldn’t care?”

He winced in sympathy, because it wasn’t that long ago that he’d been having his own doubts on that front, because there weren’t many other explanations for why Miguel was so reluctant to have him around. But he had seen enough now to know that Miguel still cared about everyone, no matter how much he tried to hide it. “More like he was worried you would care too much and put yourselves in danger for him. He only let me stick around because I didn’t give him much of a choice.”

“Were you ever planning on telling us?” Tory asked, glaring at him with the kind of fury he hadn’t seen from her in a long time.

He carefully avoided her eyes, though he could still feel them burning into him. “Eventually.”

Demetri stood up and walked over to where Eli had been staring at the wall so he couldn’t avoid looking at him when he asked, “When was ‘eventually’ going to be?”

“I don’t know!” He took a sharp inhale and winced at the slight sting in his throat from how loudly he’d shouted. Only after several calming breaths did he try to speak again, “Look I didn’t have much of an actual plan, when I found him I tried convincing him to come back with us, but he wasn’t having it and then I found out what he’d gotten mixed up in and…”

He trailed off, dropping his gaze back to the floor as he wondered exactly how much he wanted to divulge to everyone else.

It wasn’t fair to Miguel to spill everything without his permission, but at the same time he needed to explain how deeply fucked up his situation was or the others were going to keep blaming him. They had seen enough to figure out parts of it for themselves anyway; if he could just find the right words to make them understand that none of it was Miguel’s fault, maybe then-

“That man we saw-” Robby’s low voice quickly pulled everyone’s attention towards him, though he stayed as he had been, lying down and staring blankly at the ceiling “-he’s really Miguel’s dad?”

Eli felt the snarl pulling at his lip and didn’t even bother trying to hide it. “Technically,” he growled, not even wanting to give Hector that much recognition, “not that you’d know it from all the shit he’s put Miguel through.”

“I’ll admit I didn’t catch everything they were saying to each other,” Robby said, eyes briefly darting over to meet Eli’s, “but what I did make out sounded…”

“Bad. Yeah.” He felt the expectant eyes on him and knew that there was no escaping it now. Taking a deep, calming breath, he started speaking slowly, “Hector – Miguel’s dad – he’s a gang boss, runs this underground fighting ring, no rules, bullshit match types to really stack the odds against their stronger fighters; two vs one, armed vs unarmed, handicap matches… Miguel’s good, survived this long, but-”

“But all it takes is for someone to get lucky against him.”

He nodded at Chris’ words. “Not just that, I’ve seen how he fights in those matches, it’s brutal-” he didn’t say that it almost put Hawk at his worst to shame “-the guy who gave him that slash across the chest tonight? Miguel beat him unconscious and it was far from the first time he’s done something like that. And what’s worse is that he’s started being pulled more into all the other illegal shit Hector’s involved with.”

Robby frowned, finally pushing himself into a sitting position and crossing his arms above his knees. “I know me and him never really got along, but even I can tell Miguel isn’t the type to join a gang.”

“It wasn’t his choice,” he said, too quick to defend him if the several raised eyebrows he received were anything to go by, “up until recently Miguel was just Hector’s prize fighter, he didn’t get involved with the gang beyond that and even the fighting he only did because he was forced into it.”

“What changed?” Sam asked.

“I did.” He shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to see the reactions to what he was going to say next. “Hector knew me and Miguel were old friends, so when I kept showing up he used me as a… kind of hostage to get Miguel to do what he wanted.”

Demetri made a hideous choking sound before he managed to spit out, “He threatened to kill you?”

Reluctantly opening his eyes again, Eli shrugged, picking at the sleeve of his hoodie, half his mind wondering why it felt like it was sitting so strangely on him for the small distraction it offered. “Basically.”

The silence that followed that revelation was suffocating as members of the group exchanged glances and held silent conversations that he had neither the energy nor desire to try and parse right now, most of his mind still fixated on what was going to happen to Miguel.

Hector had clearly been pissed to find even more of his old friends here and, although the man might have played it off at the time, Eli was sure that he wasn’t happy his son had actually stood up to him, even if he had basically promised that he was going to be fully cooperative going forward. And without Hawk around as a threat to keep him in line, was Miguel going to take the risk of acting out more often? Or would Hector turn his attention to Maria or Luis, put them in the kind of danger Miguel was already afraid of?

“Fucking hell,” Sam groaned, dragging her hands down her face before snapping her head up to glare at him, “and at no point did you think it might be a good idea to call us for backup?”

He wasn’t about to admit that he had considered that, several times, but had decided against it to placate Miguel. “What would you have done?”

“Something! Anything!”

“Guys, look, I get we’re all kinda pissed at Eli right now, but we have to look at the bigger picture-” he sent a silent prayer to whatever higher being might be listening for Chris’ entire existence “-so let’s think of a way to help Miguel escape his father and get him home.”

Knowing that this next bit was going to be exhausting, he sat heavily on the floor, leaning his back against the door. “It’s not that simple, even if we found a way for him to escape, he won’t leave.”

“Why not? His dad’s an abusive asshole, why wouldn’t he want to go back home?” Sam snapped and while she probably wasn’t specifically angry at Eli – at least not for this one thing – he couldn’t help but bristle at the accusation in her tone.

“There’s some people here he’s been protecting, he’s scared that if he leaves Hector might turn on them,” he said, draping his arms over his legs and watching as he clenched his own fists. “And… he’s too attached to his dad. Even after all the bullshit he puts him through, on some level Miguel still believes that he cares about him. Or he wants to believe it so badly he’s deluded himself into ignoring everything else.”

“I get it.” Everyone’s head snapped to face Robby, who flinched slightly under the attention but sat a little straighter before continuing, “Look, I think we all know that me and Miguel are the poster children for daddy issues-”

Demetri mumbled a comment about him at least being aware of it, which Robby either didn’t hear, or chose to ignore.

“-so I know a thing or two about having complicated feelings towards a shitty dad. Though I guess I’ve gotta give Johnny credit for never slamming a gun in my face.” Robby’s face twisted as he said it, as if it physically pained him to give Johnny any kind of almost-compliment.

It was just for show anyway, everyone knew his relationship with his dad was the strongest it’d ever been. Not perfect, fuck no, there was always going to be at least a little tension and mistrust there – seventeen years of neglect don’t just go away, no matter how hard Johnny had been trying to make up for that lost time – but there wasn’t any active resentment there now and, even though they still tended to bicker a lot, it was always pretty light and inconsequential.

Eli sighed, leaning his head back against the door at staring up at the blank ceiling. “Yeah, well, it means that trying to talk Miguel around hasn’t exactly gone great for me. I don’t think he even wants to come back.”

“You’re wrong about that.”

He glared at Demetri as he sat down next to him, overly-long legs knocking against his as he settled into place.

Once he was comfortable, his best friend continued, in a quiet voice that was more certain than he’d heard him in a long time, “I’m sure Miguel does want to come home.”

“Really? Because from everything I’ve seen since I found him here he seems pretty set on staying.”

The look on Demetri’s face suggested he wasn’t impressed with the sass, but he didn’t let himself get distracted from making his point and his voice remained quiet and gentle. “He still called it home, didn’t you notice?”

He blinked several times and trawled through the mess of memories of the events earlier that night, shocked to realise that Demetri was right.

And, now that the idea had been put in his head, thinking back on all their other conversations… Miguel had never once referred to anywhere in Mexico as home. Not even his apartment, which at best got called ‘my place,’ or Maria’s home, where he’d lived for three years before moving out on his own but was always Maria’s home, not Miguel’s. But, whenever he had tried to convince Hawk to leave, when they talked about his reasons for leaving, when he was reminiscing about old times… he always talked about ‘back home.’

“Ok, maybe you’re right, but even if he does want to come home, I don’t think he feels like he deserves to,” he said with a heavy sigh.

Tory scoffed and threw another pillow at him, probably just because he was the only target available to her general frustration at the moment. “That’s bullshit.”

He knocked the pillow away before digging his hands into his hair in frustration, not giving a damn how badly he was messing up his spikes. “I’ve told him that, but he’s convinced that going home would just hurt his mom, I tried telling him that that’s stupid but he wouldn’t listen.”

“So, you haven’t told Carmen, Rosa or Johnny that you found Miguel either,” Robby said, less a question and more a statement.

Eli flinched, not even wanting to think about how guilty that had been making him feel this whole time.

“Of course he hasn’t told them, or we already would’ve seen Sensei Lawrence kicking down every door in Mexico City looking for him,” Mitch said, snickering until Chris’ elbow in his side and a pointed jerk of his head towards Robby cut him off. “I-I mean, uh, just that- y’know, I’m sure he’d do the same for any of us-”

“Relax, I know how my dad gets about Miguel,” he said calmly, rolling his eyes to the ceiling before settling them on Eli. “So, what do we do now?”

Sighing, he dove his fingers deeper into his hair, tugging at the stiff strands. “I still want to help him, but he-”

Sam cut him off, jumping to her feet and marching over. “We’re not leaving until he’s safe.”

“You heard what he said, we’d just be putting him in danger and it’d be dangerous for us too. I don’t know what else to try.”

At his side, Demetri knocked their shoulders together awkwardly. “Well, now you’ve got six extra brains to help come up with an actual plan,” he said, sounding a lot more confident than he had any right to – though Eli wasn’t about to deny that that conviction swayed him a little – “together we’ll think of some way to rescue Miguel.”

Chris smiled at him from where he was sitting. “You didn’t seriously think anyone was going to suggest just going home without him, did you?”

Fucking hell, he shouldn’t have waited until now; he hadn’t felt this much hope since he first saw Miguel so long ago now.

Turning his eyes to the ceiling until the burning sensation in them died away, he managed to hold back the tears threatening to fall, but he was sure that they could hear the thick emotion in his voice when he mumbled, “Thanks guys.”

“Of course, you know we never leave a man behind,” Mitch said throwing his arm around Chris and sounding pretty choked up himself, “we’re all-in, all the way.”

“Glad to hear we’re all on the same page, but…” All eyes turned on Robby who returned their attention with his usual hard stare. “If we’re doing this, we’re gonna need some backup.”

---

Chapter Text

---

It was a good thing he had never been scared of heights, because from here on the hotel balcony the streets were so far below him that the people walking along the streets were tiny and even the cars looked like toys. Leaning both arms heavily against the railing, breath misting slightly in the cool night air, Eli stared hard at his phone as the screen went dark for the third time in the last ten minutes.

He frowned and unlocked it again, the name on the screen burning into his eyes accusingly.

They’d each agreed to take care of one call. Robby was going to tell his dad – not that he seemed particularly enthusiastic about it, Eli could only imagine how conflicted he must be feeling about the entire situation – and Sam would call hers.

Everyone else had been preparing to draw straws when Eli had volunteered to take the last one.

Robby and Sam aside, he was probably the one who’d remained the closest to Carmen and Rosa Diaz anyway.

And he owed them at least this much.

The screen went black again and he let out a deep sigh, unlocking it again and tapping the call button before he could procrastinate even further. Every unanswered ring only made the urge to hang up even sharper, but before he could seriously consider it, the ringing cut out as it was finally answered.

“Ms Diaz?” he asked, voice thick as he choked around the lump in his throat.

“Eli? Is that you? Are you ok? I heard from Johnny that you had gone missing, have the others found you? Are you in trouble?”

He grimaced at the barrage of questions. He already wasn’t sure if he would be able to make it through this conversation, even without being forced to think about how everyone back home must’ve been reacting to his disappearance. “No, I’m… fine, back with the others now. Sorry, I just- is Rosa around as well? I need to talk to you both.”

“I’m at work right now, but she would probably be asleep at this time anyway,” she said and Eli suddenly became aware of the sounds of a busy hospital coming through the phone that he probably should’ve noticed sooner.

Right, with everything else that’d happened in the last two hours it hadn’t even occurred to him that he was making this call at one in the morning. He was lucky that the time difference meant she was still awake, but the fact that he was about to drop this news on her in the middle of her shift only made the guilt he was already feeling weigh down heavier on him.

“Eli? What’s going on?”

“Ok, um…” How the fuck was he supposed to do this? Probably best to try and ease her into it at least, instead of just blurting it out. “Are you sitting down? Somewhere private?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, before the muffled background noise became even more distant and there was a faint click of a door shutting. “…I am now. Eli, what is all this?” Carmen asked warily.

He didn’t want to do this.

But he had to.

“Miguel’s alive.”

There was a sharp intake of breath, but after that, nothing. The only reason he knew Carmen hadn’t hung up was because he could still hear the faint, distorted commotion of voices and machines and work happening in the background.

Feeling like that wasn’t enough, that he owed her more, he continued, “We found him, he’s here in Mexico City, right now.”

We found him, what bullshit. He was just trying to spread the blame around.

It wasn’t like the thought that he should tell Carmen and Rosa hadn’t crossed his mind from the second he first saw Miguel. He knew how much they missed him, knew what they would give to see him again, but he hadn’t ever worked up the nerve to actually make that call. And the longer he’d waited, the more difficult it became, because then he would have to try and rationalise the decision to withhold this information from these two women who didn’t deserve to have something so important kept from them.

For a long time, he didn’t get a response and he wasn’t even sure that she hadn’t dropped her phone in shock. He could only imagine what she was thinking and feeling right now.

He considered talking again, trying to find the words that would make any of this ok, but he had nothing, all he could do was sit and listen to the painful silence, hand trembling where it was holding his phone to his ear.

It took several minutes for him to get anything at all from her and, when she finally did speak, he could almost feel his own heart breaking at the sound of her voice. “Why?”

One word, just one word to try and ask everything that had been weighing on her for years.

Why did Miguel leave? Why did he never come home?

What had she done wrong to drive her son out of her life?

Eli swallowed hard, voice cracking when he said, “He… his dad…” It was all the explanation he had to give, and likely all that she needed.

“Oh, no… Dios te salve, María, llena eres de gracia-”^[235]

She didn’t appear to be talking to him anymore, her voice sounding distant as she finished reciting her prayer, like she had covered her mouth with her hand. He didn’t dare say anything, didn’t know what he could possibly say that would offer her any comfort at all, but being a silent witness to her grief only made him want to scratch off his own crawling skin even more.

After a sob he gave her the grace of pretending he didn’t hear, Carmen’s next words were much clearer, “Is he safe?”

He didn’t even consider lying, that would be too cruel, even for him. “No, he’s not.”

“Oh, Miggy.”

“I tried convincing him to come home, but he’s- it’s-” He cut himself off with a frustrated noise. What was he even trying to do here? He was just coming up with excuses for why he hadn’t done more. He could try and find a reason to justify it all he liked, at the end of the day it didn’t change a damn thing.

Miguel was still in danger, and he was still refusing to do anything to get himself out of it, and nothing Eli had done had helped. If anything, he’d made things worse.

“It’s complicated,” Carmen quietly finished for him, misinterpreting his inability to finish his sentence as not knowing what to say, instead of not wanting to keep spewing meaningless bullshit that only made him feel sick, “I can only imagine.”

With the guilt already making him nauseous, Eli quickly backed away from the balcony’s railing, leaning his back against the rough wall behind him and letting himself sink down to the floor, knees curled up in front of him. “He misses you. He still cares, I promise… he’s just trapped in a bad situation and he’s too scared of Hector to try and get out.” He wasn’t sure if that actually made anything better, but she deserved to know the truth.

The poorly-hidden sob suggested that Eli wasn’t helping anything. “It’s my fault, I should have been more open with him about his father, if he knew what Hector was like then he might have stayed.”

“No! He doesn’t blame you at all, he-” biting his lip hard enough he might’ve broken skin, Eli had to take a minute to decide if he had any right to share what Miguel had confessed to him, before deciding that, even if he didn’t have the right to share it, Carmen at least had the right to hear it. “He told me about the last time he spoke to you,” he said, voice shaking as he pulled the sleeve of his hoodie over his hand and squeezed the excess fabric like an inadequate stress ball, “he regrets it so much.”

Carmen’s voice was shaking so badly that he almost couldn’t hear her next words, “I don’t want his regret; I just want my baby to come home.”

He was almost crying right along with her.

“We’re going to do everything we can to get him back, the others are telling Johnny and Mr LaRusso now so we can get some backup,” he said through his rapidly-constricting throat, “I promise, we’re not leaving without him.”

“No you won’t. Because I’m going to come down and help you too.”

Eli blinked at the steely tone, before his mind caught up with what she’d just said and the panic immediately set in. “Uh, Ms Diaz, I don’t think that’s the best-”

“You tell me my son is alive and in trouble, and you expect me to just sit here and wait for you to bring him home?” She wasn’t shouting, she was barely speaking above a whisper and her voice kept breaking every other word, but he still knew exactly how serious she was and there was no doubt in his mind that she would follow through with her declaration.

But he couldn’t help remembering how Miguel had worried about his mother’s feelings towards him, or the venom in Hector’s voice the one time he’d directly mentioned Carmen. She deserved the chance to help save Miguel, he knew that, but at the same time…

“I’ve met Hector,” he said quietly, staring out at the view of the city between the bars of the balcony, “I know why you had to leave him and, from what I’ve seen, Hector still hates you for that.” He could hear her shuddering breaths over the phone and knowing that she was probably feeling the same way he himself had felt, every single time Miguel had tried to push him away for his own safety. “If you come here you’ll be in danger, maybe more than anyone else.”

He owed Miguel at least this much. He had already broken his trust by telling her at all, but he could at least try and keep her safe. It’s what he would’ve wanted.

Even if he already knew it wasn’t going to work.

After all, the threat of danger had never worked on Eli either.

“I know better than anyone what lengths that man will go to and I don’t care.” Even with the rough edge of tears still in her voice, her utter conviction was impossible to ignore. “He’s my son, nothing is going to keep me away from him.”

Grimacing and closing his eyes tightly shut, Eli forced out the words he knew she wouldn’t want to hear, “You’ve got another son to worry about as well. You can’t exactly bring Hugo here with you.”

It was a low blow, but it was also probably the only card he had left to play that might keep Carmen safe at home. The kid was way too young to be getting involved in any of this, and Eli was sure Hector wouldn’t be above threatening a child if he felt it would benefit him, even if he didn’t immediately take offense to Hugo’s existence for the pure fact that the boy was a symbol of his ex-wife making a new life without him.

And Miguel would kill him if he didn’t at least try to keep Carmen out of harm’s way.

There was a long silence on the other end of the line that suggested she was considering his point, but the lack of feedback was driving him crazy.

With a heavy sigh, he opened his eyes and stared up at the hazy, starless sky. “Look, I can’t stop you-”

“No, you can’t, and Miguel can’t either. I’m not giving up on my son, never again,” she said firmly. “My mother can look after Hugo; Johnny and I will be there as soon as possible.”

He nodded, even knowing she couldn’t see him. Her decision was exactly what he’d been expecting.

“And… thank you, Eli, for returning him to me.”

“Don’t thank me, I’ve known that he was here for months, I should have told you straight away.” Eli tugged at his sleeve again, letting the soft fabric irritate the sensitive skin of his palms, then nearly sobbed when he suddenly realised that the reason the material felt so strange to him was because it wasn’t his hoodie. It was one he’d borrowed from Miguel. And if things went badly here, it could end up being the last reminder of him he would ever have.

Immediately he let out a sob, clutching onto the material like it was a lifeline, the last piece of Miguel that was still with him.

Carmen made a soft noise, so similar to the comforting hums Miguel would make when Eli was upset that he found himself turning to try and look for him before he had to stamp down that painful urge. “I assume you were trying to protect him?” she asked, more gently than he deserved.

“Yeah, but-”

“Then I will forgive you.”

He snapped his mouth shut, not sure what he could possibly say in response to that. She was being too generous, giving him something he had in no way earned, but he still felt at least a little bit lighter hearing it.

“Thanks.” It was inadequate, but he wasn’t about to throw her kindness back in her face. “I guess we’ll see you soon,” he said, voice distorted by the thickness still clinging to his throat.

“Yes, I’ll be there as soon as possible.” There was a faint sniffling on the other end of the line and some rustling and shuffling that probably came from Carmen straightening herself out a bit. Eli had no idea how she hadn’t broken down ever worse after having all this dropped on her out of the blue, but she had rallied herself impressively, sounding as calm and collected as she usually did when she quietly asked, “One last thing… have you called your parents yet?”

Eli grimaced, closing his eyes tight, as if it that would make the question disappear. “Not yet, they’d probably be asleep right now any-”

“Call them,” she interrupted him, firm and unbending. “It doesn’t matter how late it is, trust me. There is no bad time to hear that the child you fear you’ve lost is alive.”

And she really would know all about that, wouldn’t she?

“I- ok.”

“And if they’re mad, it’s only because they’ve been worried about you,” she said and he could almost hear the soft smile in her voice.

He knew that. He already knew that his parents were going to have a lot to say to him for the stunt he’d pulled, and he was going to deserve all of it, but Carmen’s words were a small comfort nonetheless. “Are you mad at Miguel?”

It wasn’t like he would blame her if she was. He’d been plenty mad at Miguel after he first found him and knew that sick, confusing mixture of emotions she must be feeling all too well.

“Right now I’m just so worried for him that I don’t know how to feel, but, yes, I will probably be mad for a little while once I know that he’s safe,” she eventually said, sighing out her frustration before continuing in a quieter, softer voice, “but my feelings can wait until he’s back home. Now, I really need to go, there will a lot to sort out before we can leave.”

Eli quietly said his goodbyes, but held the phone to his ear for a minute, even after the line went dead.

Well, that could’ve gone worse. Could also have gone better, but he hadn’t really been expecting anything else. At least it was one weight off his back that allowed him to breath just that tiny little bit easier.

But he suspected that the next weight he would have to lift was going to be considerably heavier and might actually crush him in the attempt to remove it.

Scrolling through his contacts, Eli started trying to plan what he was going to say when he called his own mom. He owed her and his dad a million apologies, so many that he didn’t even know where to start, and they were definitely going to have a lot to say themselves. Maybe he should just let them scream at him until they got all the hurt out, it was no more than he deserv-

Thumb hovering above the screen, Eli stared unblinkingly at the list of names. He’d forgotten which name appeared right before ‘Mom’ in his contact list.

Biting his lip, he pressed the call button.

It was stupid, it was desperate, he already knew he wasn’t going to convince Miguel of anything.

But he just had to at least try-

The bland, barely-human voice of someone who didn’t get paid enough started rattling out the generic voicemail message that Miguel had never bothered to change in clear, overly-enunciated Spanish. Right, of course. Miguel always turned his phone off before Hector’s events, and between everything else going on he probably hadn’t thought to turn it back on yet.

Or at least that explanation was better than some of the other possibilities Eli’s anxieties were all too ready to whisper in the back of his mind, so it was the one he chose to believe was true.

The beep prompting him to leave his message went off, but it took almost ten seconds before he found his voice. “Miguel, I… I’m sorry, please just… call me when you can.”

Fingers shaking, he ended the call and stared at the next contact down from Miguel, the one he had originally intended to call. The one he’d been avoiding thinking of too much for two months now.

He didn’t even bring the phone to his ear, just left his trembling hands in his lap and listened to the faint, distant ringing, quietly hoping that perhaps it would go straight to voicemail too. If his parents were asleep he didn’t want to disturb them, he could wait until morning when he might have his thoughts in some kind of order.

The ringing had been going on for a while now, surely it would soon-

“Eli?”

The voice was muffled and he could barely hear it with his phone so far away, but even so the panic in his mother’s voice was unmistakeable. With his palms tingling with pins and needles, he slowly brought the phone up to his face.

She must’ve heard how shaky his breathing was, because she softened just slightly when she asked, “Eli, is that really you?”

He already felt his eyes stinging and had to swallow back the sudden thickness in his throat before even thinking about responding.

“Yeah, Mom, I-”

“Simon, Simon wake up, Eli’s calling, he’s alive!” There was a lot of rustling and distant mumbling and Eli could easily imagine his parents shifting to sit up in bed, even before the FaceTime request came through and he reluctantly pulled his phone back to accept it. As soon as the video connected he saw his parents in exactly the position he’d imagined, hair and pyjamas dishevelled from sleep and both of them looking simultaneously exhausted and wired. “Honey, are you ok? Are you safe right now?”

He nodded, wishing he looked more put-together so that they might actually believe him. “I’m safe, back at the hotel with the others now,” he said quietly, biting his lip as he tried to remember any of the words he’d wanted to say that had flown from his head the second he heard his mother’s voice. “I’m sorry.”

There was so much else he should be saying, yet he had no idea how to say any of it.

Clearly his mom agreed that a simple ‘I’m sorry’ wasn’t enough. “What have you been doing? It’s been two months, Eli! Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been?”

He grimaced, repositioning himself so he could rest his phone more comfortably against his knees and face the emotions of his parents more head-on, even if what he really wanted was to run away from it. “Yeah, I know.”

“Do you?” He flinched at his mom’s harsh tone. “Do you really understand what we’ve been going through since you disappeared?”

“I was still keeping in touch with Demetri, I assumed he’d tell you I was alive-”

“He did, but that is not the point, Eli,” she snapped, leaning forward as if she could reach him through the screen if she got close enough, “why weren’t you keeping in touch with us? Why did you run off by yourself in the first place, we’ve been so scared-”

Eli saw the hand gently pulling on her shoulder before he heard the soft, “Sharon…” as his father pulled her back, before turning to the screen with a hard look that was so rare to see from him. “Eli, whatever happened down there, the way you reacted wasn’t right, you should have talked to us first, or at least talked to your friends before rushing off on your own.”

“I-”

Part of him wanted to try and argue, the part that was still clinging to the belief that what he’d done was the only way to help Miguel and if only his friends hadn’t gotten in the way he might’ve succeeded in getting him somewhere safe by himself. But it was getting harder to really believe that when he’d seen for himself how quickly Miguel had reverted to the same scared, guarded, hopeless person he’d first found here.

Sighing, Eli tugged at the strings of his stolen hoodie, wrapping them tightly around his fingers. “Ok, yeah, you’re right, I shouldn’t have just run off like that. I’m sorry for not telling you what was going on.”

“But you’re not sorry for disappearing in the first place?” his dad said, staring him down.

Was he? There were definitely things he could’ve – should’ve – done differently. But, if he was sent back in time, knowing what he knew now, how much would he actually change? Because, as much as he might regret not keeping the others informed, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have done the same thing again given the chance.

Probably the only real change he might make would be to not treat Miguel with kid gloves for so long.

“Why would you do this? Please, I want to understand-” making a frustrated noise, his mother brushed her long hair back and tugged on it in a nervous gesture that he hadn’t seen in a long time, not since he was still in Cobra Kai and had made being an asshole a core part of his personality “-I thought we were past all this behaviour, I thought you were in a healthier place now, if there’s still something bothering you-”

“It’s not that, I wasn’t just acting out like a kid, I…” Taking a deep breath, he forced the words from his mouth, not caring how badly his voice cracked, “I found Miguel.”

His parents looked shocked at the news, and why wouldn’t they be? At this point no one was expecting Miguel to ever turn up again, he’d been written off as a lost cause. Granted they hadn’t ever known him that well – at least no better than most parents knew their child’s friends – but they knew how much losing Miguel had broken him.

“Miguel Diaz? He’s alive?” his dad asked, glancing towards his wife when she grabbed his arm holding onto him tightly with one hand while still tugging on her own hair with the other.

“Oh, honey, that’s so good to hear.” It sounded like she really meant it. “Does his mother know yet?”

Eli nodded weakly, caught off-guard by the sudden shift in tone from his parents. Not that he’d thought they would be upset he’d found his long-lost friend, but they were taking this surprisingly well. “I called her just now to tell her.”

“She must be so relieved, after all this time… And you must be happy too, I know how much he meant to you.” His mom gave him that little smile that she always did when she was proud of him for doing the right thing but didn’t want to embarrass him by drawing attention to it. She wouldn’t be giving him that look if she knew exactly what had happened over the last few months. “So, you’ll all be coming home together soon?”

Oh, of course, that’s why they were suddenly so calm. He hadn’t explained enough, as usual.

“N-no, Miguel’s- he’s not with us right now.” He really didn’t know how much he wanted to say; Carmen already knew what Hector was like, so he didn’t need to fill in the blanks for her, but his parents didn’t have that.

And, no matter how much he told them, they weren’t going to be happy about it. If he told them in detail what was going on they were going to freak out and demand he return home immediately, but if he kept things vague they were probably just going to come up with something just as bad on their own.

But at least they wouldn’t know exactly how bad things had gotten. “He’s stuck in a bad situation, I’ve been trying to get him out of it, but nothing’s worked so far.” Sighing, he braced himself for the inevitable fallout from his next words, “I’m not leaving yet, not until he’s safe. I’m sorry.”

“What? No! You need to come home-”

His dad’s gentle hand on hers was enough to cut off his mom, though she still looked like she wanted to keep going, even as his dad quietly asked, “How dangerous is this situation Miguel is in?”

Eli shifted uncomfortably against the wall he was leaning against, wrapping the strings of Miguel’s hoodie tight enough around his finger that he could feel his circulation beginning to cut off. “He found his father, turns out he- he’s pretty abusive. And a gang leader.” There, that should be enough of an explanation to satisfy them. They could probably put the rest together themselves.

“That’s what you’ve been involved with for these last two months?”

Not that he’d expected them to be happy about it.

“This isn’t ok, Eli, you need to come home right now, let the authorities handle this.”

“I can’t! They won’t do shit against Hector, he’s got too much power here, no one down here is gonna do anything-” hearing in his own voice how panicked he was getting, he slowed down, took a deep breath and tried to remember that getting angry wasn’t going to do anyone any favours right now “-nothing that’ll help Miguel anyway.”

“So that means you should throw yourself into more danger? I understand you want to help your friend, but what if you get hurt? For all we know you’ve already been hurt and haven’t told us,” his dad said, his usual emotional discipline slipping as frustration creeped into his tone.

“He hasn’t hurt me-” not directly “-he didn’t have the chance. Miguel’s been protecting me this entire time and I just want to do the same for him!”

Whatever self-control Eli had clawed back was immediately out of the window, he was still feeling too raw at being pushed away by Miguel, was still worrying about how Hector was going to react to his son standing up to him – because he was willing to bet he wouldn’t appreciate the defiance – still wanted nothing more than to go track Miguel down right this second and drag him to safety if he had to. Getting angry at his parents wasn’t fair on them and he knew it, but he just didn’t have any other target for it right now, except himself.

He dropped his phone in his lap when he brought both hands up to press the heels of his palms into his temples and closed his eyes tightly, needing to force his jaw to stop clenching so he could speak, “Look, I know I fucked up and I know I’ve never given you any reason to trust me before, but I can’t leave without him. He’s my- he’s my friend, I’m not abandoning him now.”

“Eli, I understand why you feel that way, but you need to think about your own safety too.” His mom’s voice was so much quieter now, soft in the way it usually got before she let him win an argument.

“I am. The others are all involved now and we’re getting some extra backup from Mr LaRusso and Sensei Lawrence, I’m not alone in this anymore.” Because it had been a mistake to keep everyone else out of it, he could see that now, even if he didn’t like it. “I’m coming home, I promise, but I can’t just leave him here-”

“Ok, ok we understand.” The gentle coaxing was enough to get him to open his eyes again, glance down and pick up his phone so his parents could see his face again. His mother looked so tired, but she still managed to smile for him when she said, “You do what you need to do, but please don’t forget that you have people here who love you and will miss you if you don’t come back.”

Even his dad looked unusually close to tears. Eli wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him cry before. “Please, stay safe, Son.”

Rubbing a hand under his eyes to hold back his own tears, Eli nodded. “I promise I’ll be careful.”

“And you’ll keep in touch this time?”

“Yeah.”

Sighing in relief, his mom moved her phone a little closer so he could see their faces more clearly. “We love you, Eli.”

It was kind of ridiculous how warm and safe those words made him feel, even now. But he’d never been good at returning the sentiment, not to anyone – not even his parents – no matter how deeply he did love them back. Something about saying the words out loud felt too intimate, made it too real. If he had been able to say those three words to Miguel, would he still have pushed him away like he had tonight?

He probably wasn’t going to ever get the chance to find out, even if they did succeed in getting Miguel home, but this was at least one mistake he could learn from and not repeat again.

Breath escaping him in something like a sob, he gave his parents as wide a smile as he could manage. “I love you too.”

---

There was a gentle click a few feet away from him, but it wasn’t until a quiet voice spoke up that Eli was jolted out of his trance staring blankly across the empty hotel hallway.

“Hey, Eli, uh, bathroom alarm wake you up?”

Eli turned his heavy eyes to the side and watched as Demetri awkwardly ambled over to where he was sat leaning his back against the wall and settled down next to him.

Shaking his head, he went back to staring at nothing. “I haven’t even been to sleep yet.”

“That… makes sense,” his friend said, letting out a long sigh as he leaned back against the wall, “me neither. Crazy night, huh?”

At any other time he might’ve been able to muster at least a short huff of laughter, but right now he just felt so empty of emotion that he couldn’t even fake it for Demetri’s sake. He hadn’t felt like this since the first time Miguel had left his life.

“The call to Carmen went that bad, huh?”

He sighed and drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around them. “Nothing I wasn’t expecting.”

Demetri laid a hand on his shoulder, presumably intending it to be a comforting gesture, though he quickly pulled it back when Eli tensed up under the touch. “She must be glad to know that he’s alive at least, right?”

“I don’t know,” he said, barely even hearing his own voice, “knowing that he’s stuck with Hector might be worse.”

“We’ll get him out of there, I promise.”

It was still kind of weird hearing Demetri sounding so sure and confident. Even after developing some actual self-esteem after everything they’d gone through as kids, he still tended to be the downer realist of the group. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, they all needed that voice of reason sometimes, but this new, optimistic version of Demetri was seriously throwing him off, even if he was probably only acting like this to keep Eli’s spirits up.

He could at least appreciate the effort; it couldn’t be coming naturally to him.

And if he was going to get through this, Eli needed to stop thinking like they were already doomed to fail too. For Miguel’s sake if nothing else. “Yeah, I know.”

He didn’t look to see how Demetri reacted to that, just let his eyes keep tracing the abstract patterns of the piece of artwork on the opposite wall for the miniscule amount of grounding it offered.

“Have you called your parents yet?”

One sentence and he felt like he was back in free-fall again.

Sighing, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the wall. “Yeah, Carmen made me to do it as soon as I finished talking to her.”

“…And how’d that go?”

Opening his eyes again, he turned his head long enough to send a hard glare towards his friend, before turning away and closing them again.

“Ok, yes, that was a stupid question.”

“They’ve accepted that I’m not going home until Miguel’s safe at least, and they aren’t about to call any authorities to try and drag me home without him,” he said quietly, knowing that Demetri would understand he wasn’t even exaggerating by much – he knew better than anyone else what his parents were like – and squeezed his knees a little tighter to his chest, “but I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

Nodding slowly, Demetri crossed his arms and seemed to be considering the time they had before the Moskowitz parents got involved in earnest. “Well, hopefully Senseis LaRusso and Lawrence joining us will make them feel a little bit better about it.”

Eli shrugged. “Maybe. Carmen’s coming down too.”

“Are we sure that’s a good idea?” Demetri asked in an uncertain mumble, obviously having similar concerns to the ones Eli had tried to express to the woman when he spoke with her.

“You want to try telling her to stay at home, knowing that Miguel’s here?”

Demetri hummed for several seconds. “Touché,” he said, and Eli could see the hopeful look being sent toward him out of the corner of his eye, but he still didn’t have it in him to give more than a brief glance in return. Sighing, Demetri hunched over more, resting his elbows on his knees and staring hard at the hands clasped in his lap. “I still can’t believe he’s been here the entire time and never told any of us. If we hadn’t come down here when we did, we might never have found out what happened to him.”

Eli had been the one to suggest coming here in the first place, and he almost hadn’t done that.

If he hadn’t made that suggestion, or if the other members of their group had voted in a different way and they went somewhere else for this trip… What would that have meant for Miguel? He would’ve still been stuck fighting in his father’s ring, but he probably wouldn’t have been dragged quite as deep into his gang, at least not yet.

Would Miguel have preferred that? He’d said that being together had made him happy, but hadn’t he also just made his life that much more difficult?

The lack of response was obviously getting to Demetri, who turned his head to look directly at Eli, waiting until he finally met his gaze before continuing, “And if we hadn’t found you tonight, then maybe we never would have.”

He winced and looked away again, fingers digging into the thick material of the stolen hoodie, like if he gripped it hard enough Miguel might somehow feel the phantom sensation of his grasp too, wherever he was right now. “How did you guys find me so quickly after I called Tory anyway?”

“Well, we were already out looking for you anyway, turns out we were pretty nearby,” Demetri explained, thankfully taking the change in topic without comment, “though if you hadn’t called Tory I doubt we would’ve found you. Robby noticed a bit of distortion in your voice on the phone, a slight echo like you were speaking in an alley or something, and we knew the place must be away from any busy streets because there weren’t any cars or crowd noise in the background.”

That made sense, he probably shouldn’t have been surprised that his friends had managed to pick up on those kinds of details, but their tracking skills were impressive nonetheless.

“Also since you were so panicked we figured you were somewhere dangerous and in our investigations we had been warned away from several areas by locals, one of which was that warehouse, so it seemed like the best place to start looking. We headed that direction and Tory was constantly calling you, so the second we heard your ringtone in the distance we just started charging toward it.”

Despite feeling so drained, Eli did manage a brief chuckle. “You guys are fucking insane, you know that?”

“Yes, I believe that fact was well established quite a few years ago.”

“Seriously, you’re all really impressive.” He really meant it too; he was almost more surprised that they hadn’t managed to track him down before tonight if those few details were enough to get his cover blown.

And he was also impressed that they’d just stuck with their search that long. Even after almost two months, they still hadn’t given up on him, were out searching even before he’d given them a reason to believe they might find him. He knew why, knew whose memory had been urging them to keep searching, even after things must’ve started to seem hopeless.

He didn’t want to ask how much longer they would have kept at it if they hadn’t found him tonight. Especially not when he was now roping them into staying even longer to help him save Miguel.

“Thanks,” he said softly, giving as much of a smile as he could right now, “for not giving up on me.”

“Of course, you’re our friend, we had no intention of leaving you behind.” Demetri returned his smile much more easily, before his expression settled into something more serious with a kind of determination that he hadn’t seen since he was studying for his finals. “And we don’t intend to leave Miguel behind either.”

His smile wobbled briefly, before falling off his face as he turned back to the wall.

Fuck, he really had to get a grip. He couldn’t keep falling apart at every single reminder that the man he loved was in danger, or he was never going to be any use in getting him out of it.

“So, uh-” Demetri’s hesitant voice drew his eyes again, and the uncomfortable expression on his face was enough to keep his full attention “-I don’t think there’s ever going to be a good time or way to ask this, so I guess I’m just going to be blunt.”

Demetri being blunt, that always ended well.

“You’re in love with Miguel, aren’t you?”

He sucked in a sharp breath as he stared at his friend, suddenly far too aware of all the sensations around him. The air was warm and heavy against his skin, his muscles were pulled taught and rigid to the point that they were starting to ache, the long hallway had the slightest echo that was bouncing the sound of his own shaky breathing back at him. And Demetri was staring so intently at him, waiting for his response, even though his immediate reaction must’ve been answer enough.

Dropping his eyes, he pulled his knees tighter into his chest, restricting his breath even further as he stuttered out, “H-how did you-”

“Eli, I’ve been your best friend since we were kids – that brief hiccup that shall not be talked about aside – I’ve learned how to read you, and the way you were looking at him tonight… I mean you cradled his face like he was made of porcelain or something. That’s not platonic behaviour, even for a long-lost friend,” he said, so matter-of-factly, like they were talking about the weather or something.

“How long have you known?”

“Oh about-” he made a show of pulling his phone out of his pocket and humming as he studied the time intently “-four hours, though that got me thinking back on it and now I feel a little foolish for not noticing it sooner.” He leaned over to force himself into Eli’s line of sight and gave him a shaky little smile. “You’ve been crushing on Miguel from day one, haven’t you?”

No point denying it now. “Took me a while to realise it myself, but yeah, basically,” he said, digging his fingers into the stiff cloth of his jeans, “has anyone else figured it out?”

Demetri hummed in thought, leaning away so he wasn’t crowding Eli so much before speaking, “Doubtful, you’re a difficult guy to read, it’s only because I have so much practice that I realised it I think, besides, everyone knows how close you and Miguel always were, they might not read into it as much as I did.”

Well, that was something at least. He had enough to be dealing with right now without having to worry about everyone’s reactions to him being bi, or having them pity him any more than they already did for how Miguel had shoved him away.

“This must be really hard for you.”

It was only because Demetri was his best friend that he would let him get away with that. “It’s hard for everyone,” he said, frowning at the blank wall opposite him.

He could practically hear Demetri rolling his eyes, and almost cracked a smile in response. “You know what I meant.”

“Yeah.”

The light nudge to his arm was enough to drag his attention back and he raised an eyebrow when he saw Demetri’s face. It was difficult to see in the dim light, but he seemed to be blushing just slightly. “And, you know, I might not have the same inclinations as you, but if you’re gonna fall for a guy you could definitely do worse than Miguel, I can see why you would like him.”

His face automatically scrunched up in distaste. “We seriously don’t have to talk about this, Dem.”

“Oh, come off it, just let me be a supportive friend for once,” he said, throwing his arm across Eli’s shoulders in a performatively bro-y move that absolutely did not work for him.

Shrugging the arm off, Eli glared at him out of the corner of his eye. “Look, I appreciate that you’re cool with me being bi or whatever-” he really did, not that he’d expected Demetri to have an issue with it in the first place, he’d been fine when other members of their group had come out “-but right now it’s just…” He trailed off, not quite sure how to end that sentence.

It was too soon, too much to even think about. He’d been dumped and somehow that wasn’t even the worst part, because Miguel was in more danger than ever, except now he was in it alone and nothing mattered more to Eli than that.

For a long minute, neither of them spoke, but Demetri had never liked to let an awkward silence keep going when he could fill it with awkward conversation. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure out a plan to get him home,” he said, once again sounding so assured that they would succeed when Eli was still filled with doubt, “and once we’ve got him back home and things have settled down, I’d be happy to be your wingman.”

Despite everything, he couldn’t help snorting at that image. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think he’s taking me back.”

“Oh don’t be like that, you’re a total catch and he already liked you as a friend once so that has to put you at least a little ahea- wait, wait, taking you back?”

Eli’s eyes widened as he realised what he had basically just admitted to and his head snapped around to see Demetri looking at him in total shock.

“Holy shit, you’ve already gotten with him!”

Slapping a hand over Demetri’s mouth, he glanced around the corridor, half expecting all their friends to come charging out of their rooms to confront them, but doors stayed resolutely closed. Even so, he lowered his voice and hissed, “Quiet down man, do you need to out us to everyone else?”

To his credit, Demetri looked genuinely apologetic. “Sorry, but this is kind of-” he waved his hands in a vague gesture that explained nothing and everything at the same time. “So, Miguel’s into guys too? I wouldn’t have guessed. How the hell did you even pull that off?”

Eli laughed as he tipped his head back against the wall, staring up at the blank ceiling. “I have no idea. Apparently he used to have a bit of a thing for me back in our Cobra Kai days too, though I’m not convinced he wasn’t just saying that to make me feel better.” Perhaps he should’ve been annoyed at how quick Demetri was to nod along with him, but honestly there was probably no one else in the world who better understood what it felt like to somehow luck into a relationship with someone so far out of your league and have no explanation for how you got there. “But, I dunno, everything was so intense when I found him, things just… kind of ended up happening.”

“How long have you two been together?” Demetri asked, the same kind of look on his face that he got when he came across a particularly intriguing puzzle.

“It would’ve been our two-month anniversary next week.” He didn’t even have to think about it, he’d been tracking the dates since they first got together, had even been wondering if he should plan something for it. Nothing big, just… something to show Miguel how much he appreciated being with him, despite everything going on around them.

Miguel had teased him several times before for being sappy. He didn’t even know how right he was.

“I mean, it’s not like he outright said he was breaking up with you,” Demetri said, obviously picking up on the past tense in his wording.

“He said that letting me stay was a mistake and told me to go home with you guys and forget about him-” Eli gave him a sharp look, before curling tighter into himself again, burying his face against his legs, the pain of Miguel’s last whispered words to him – words that he had absolutely no intention of sharing with Demetri, they were just too personal, too raw – no less sharp now than it had been just a few hours ago “-that’s pretty cut-and-dry.”

Demetri groaned heavily. “Ok, yes, but he was clearly also just trying to protect us.” He was staring at Eli again, clearly wanting something in response, but when he didn’t get it he just slapped a hand across his face and moaned, “Look, I don’t get everything that’s going on with him, but it’s obvious that there’s more to his actions.”

Right now he didn’t care how much logical sense his friend was making; he didn’t want to let himself hope again, not when he knew exactly how bad it would hurt if Demetri was wrong and Miguel never gave him another chance.

“I’m sure he’s just angry right now, probably scared too, I mean I’ve known his dad for all of two minutes and I already know I do not want to mess with him-” he held his hands up defensively at the hard look Eli shot at him, quick to explain himself “-not that I’m going to back out on this mission to bring Miguel home, I just mean that at least when we were dealing with Kreese and Silver we didn’t have to worry about being shot.”

“Look, I just…” He trailed off and growled in frustration, burying his hands into his hair, not caring that his fingers were ripping apart carefully constructed spikes. “If he doesn’t want to get back together with me, that’s… it’s fine, I’ll accept it.” And he really meant it, even if the thought of never getting that level of intimacy with Miguel back left him with a gaping hole in his chest. “I just want him to be safe.”

“He will be, we’ll all make sure of that-” he clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed tightly before quickly pulling it back “-but, when this is all over, I think you should maybe give it another shot. It’s not like you to give up on someone.”

He snorted, there was really only one person Demetri could’ve been thinking of. “Yeah, because getting hung up on someone who dumped me went so well for me in the past.”

“Miguel isn’t Moon and this situation isn’t even close to what happened back then,” he said, rolling his eyes and shoving Eli with his bony elbow until he finally turned to look at Demetri and see the soft, genuine smile on his face. “Just give him some time, I’m sure he’ll come around.”

It was still kind of weird, but Eli couldn’t say this more hopeful version of his best friend wasn’t growing on him.

“Since when are you such a sage on romance?”

“I mean I have been in the most stable long-term relationship in our entire friend group.”

“Huh, you’re right.” And wasn’t that weird to think about? Eli wondered how their younger selves would’ve felt if they had been able to see how their respective love lives had ended up working out. He was pretty sure Demetri would’ve been insufferable about it, but then again he’d kind of earned that right by this point. “How the fuck did that happen?”

His friend just shrugged. “I didn’t get to this point by questioning it, didn’t want to go giving Yasmine ideas,” he said, though the fond tone to his voice suggested that he wasn’t actually worried about the security of his relationship – and he really didn’t need to be, the girl was crazy about him – “but my point is that once everyone’s safe and back home, Miguel might be more open to getting back together than you think.”

It was a nice thought, and he wanted to be able to believe it so badly.

But this wasn’t the time to be dreaming that far ahead. “Honestly, I can’t even let myself think about that right now, not until he’s safe.”

“Ok then, I won’t pester you about it.” Demetri gave him a sympathetic wince and gently nudged their shoulders together one last time. “But as soon as this mission is over and we’re all safe then I’m making plans to get you two back together, I’ll always be there for my binary bro, whether he wants it or not.”

That actually did manage to make Eli crack a brief smile, even if the weight of it felt too heavy on his lips. “Appreciate it.”

“Now we could both seriously do with getting some sleep, I have a feeling the next few days are going to be hectic,” he said, grumbling slightly as he stretched his long legs out in front of him and slumped further into the wall.

Eli sighed, mirroring his friend’s posture and groaning at how stiff and uncooperative his body felt. How long had he spent curled up like that?

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to sleep anytime soon.”

There was a rush of air next to him as Demetri knocked the back of his head against the wall. “Yeah, me neither.”

The silence they fell into was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. It simply was.

It was surprising how just having someone beside him was comfort enough right now.

He was so lucky to have Demetri in his life; he didn’t say it often enough, but in this moment the intense feeling of comradery was embracing him in a way he hadn’t really noticed in years. After everything they’d gone through it was a miracle they were even still friends at all, and Eli still didn’t really feel like he fully deserved it, but Demetri was the one who’d been most wronged by Hawk in his blood-rage, so it was only fair he be the one to stipulate when he’d earned his redemption.

Not that he understood it how he’d forgiven him in the first place. Eli hadn’t just burned the bridge behind him, he’d thrown a firebomb at it. Demetri really didn’t have to give him the time of day after that, but for some reason he did and Eli would forever be grateful to him for it.

They couldn’t rebuild that old bridge he’d burned, there was only ash left of that, but they could build something new together. It wasn’t the same as it was before – because how could it ever be? – but it was stronger. They had found the rot that had been festering in their old friendship that had led them to a place where it would have broken at some point, even without Eli setting it ablaze, and this time they knew which places needed extra reinforcement.

There were still weak points of course, places where they had to tread carefully, but they were both willing to do that work, which was all that really mattered.

“Sooo… Star Trek, or Star Wars?”

Eli blinked at the complete non-sequitur, before turning his tired eyes on his friend and silently begging him to elaborate because he was too tired to try and follow Demetri’s deranged train of thought right now.

Shrugging casually, Demetri just grinned at him. “What? Those debates always used to wipe us out when we were kids, I figure it could help us fall asleep now.”

Well it was hardly the weirdest idea he’d ever come up with. When they had sleepovers as kids and had been woken up by Eli’s alarm and were struggling to drop off again Demetri used to come up with all sorts of wacky ideas to make them fall asleep. Most of the time they only ended up waking them up more, but the thought had always been appreciated.

He finally let himself smile for real, he even managed a soft laugh. “Thanks, Dem.”

“You’re most welcome,” Demetri said before sitting up a little straighter and clearing his throat, “Now while the media itself may seem the logical starting point, I would argue that we simply cannot ignore the cultural legacies at play here and obviously Star Trek has had the greater impact on the science fiction genre as a whole, as well as-”

Eli could probably recite this speech by heart he’d heard it so many times before, but if his friend was putting in this much effort for him, it was only fair he put in an equal amount in return.

Even if he was a little annoyed that Demetri had taken the easiest side of this particular debate.

So he paid careful attention and gave equally thoughtful counter-arguments when he could get a word in edgeways. But – when they finally took their drooping eyes and slurring words as a signal that they were ready to call it a night and staggered drowsily to their respective rooms to catch at least a couple hours sleep – Eli’s last thought before he fell asleep still somehow found its way back to Miguel anyway.

---

Chapter Text

---

It was only twenty-eight hours later when Sam received a call from her dad informing her that he, Johnny and Carmen had all arrived, but – despite how quickly they’d managed to get there on such short notice – the wait had been an unbearably tense time for everyone stuck at the hotel.

Half the group had wanted to immediately leap into action, track down Miguel and get him somewhere safe straight away, the other half was adamant that they needed to wait for their backup and come up with a solid plan before making any moves. Eli had surprised himself by finding himself siding with the latter group, refusing to give the more proactive trio of Sam, Tory and Mitch any leads to work off of until everyone was here.

Not that he didn’t also want nothing more than to just go over to Miguel’s place and beg him to see reason, but he’d tried that approach already and it hadn’t worked.

So he’d waited.

When Daniel, Carmen and Johnny stumbled after Sam as she lead them into the largest of the hotel rooms the group had booked all three of them looked absolutely shattered; they must’ve been driving basically constantly to get here so quickly. It wasn’t exactly a sight that inspired confidence, but there was a grit to their expressions that suggested that sleep was the furthest thing from their minds.

Robby was the first to speak, giving his dad a half-hearted glare. “Jesus, how much did you speed to get here? Pretty sure there’s no legal way you could’ve gotten here this fast.”

“Only a little,” Johnny muttered, scowling at Daniel in a way that suggested there had been some arguments about that on the way, “mostly we traded off sleep every couple hours so we never had to stop driving. Didn’t want to waste too much time.”

Closing the door behind them, Sam gently squeezed her own dad’s arm. “Still, you all look exhausted, maybe you should rest up a bit before we get into things-”

“Not until we know exactly what’s going on with Miguel and what our next steps are.”

Carmen shot Johnny an exhausted frown, but notably didn’t disagree with his statement either. “It doesn’t look like any of you have gotten much sleep recently either,” she said, turning her gaze onto Eli, who dropped his head as if there was any point in trying to hide the dark circles under his eyes.

It was obvious to anyone looking how well he hadn’t been taking things.

Not that the others were doing much better.

Everyone awkwardly glanced at each other, as they found seats on the beds and chairs scattered around the room, no one seeming willing to make the first more until Demetri finally broke the silence, voice shaky, but resolute. “Ok, well if no one wants to take a nap, then we might as well start planning.”

Like a spell had been broken, the mood in the room instantly shifted, fatigue being pushed to the back of their minds in favour of determination.

Daniel was the first to speak, turning to face his daughter as he asked, “How much do we know about the situation?”

“Only what Eli’s told us,” Sam said, her brows pinched as she glared at him. An expression he’d become very familiar with over the last day, because she gave it to him every time he refused to answer her questions about what was going on with Miguel. “Though I’m sure he’s got more he’s holding back.”

“I wanted to wait until everyone was here, don’t want to have to explain all this shit more than once.” He shifted so he could sit cross-legged on the bed, frowning at the floor rather than meeting anyone’s gaze.

“Well, we’re all here now. So start explaining.”

So he did. Explaining almost everything that had happened since the first time he found Miguel up until they last saw him two nights ago. The only details he left out were the ones that would reveal the exact nature of how much his relationship with Miguel had developed, because it wasn’t really anyone’s business and he didn’t want to have to deal with their reactions right now. Demetri gave him a few unsubtle glances that suggested he was piecing together the parts of the picture Eli was leaving out, but he kept any opinions he might have about that to himself.

Everyone else just listened attentively, only occasionally interjecting to ask for clarification, or to express the unanimously shared feeling of ‘what the fuck’ when Eli revealed as much about the shit Miguel had been put through as he was comfortable sharing. The others needed to know some of it in order to understand exactly what they were dealing with here, but at the same time they weren’t his traumas to share and – given how reluctant he’d been to share them with Eli in the first place – he suspected Miguel wouldn’t want him spreading that information around. Especially not to his mother, who looked like she was going to throw up every time Hector’s name was mentioned.

Hopefully Miguel would get the chance to decide when and who he felt comfortable sharing his troubles with on his own terms. Once this was all over.

Sighing, Eli tugged lightly at the sleeves of the yellow hoodie he’d refused to take off for two nights now, torn between his natural destructive urges to mess with something to keep his hands busy and the protective desire to keep this last piece of Miguel he had left safe. “The real problem is gonna be convincing Miguel to leave in the first place,” he said, letting go of the sleeve to pick at the duvet cover he was sat on instead, “he’s convinced himself he’s trapped here with no way out.”

“Have you heard from him at all since that night?” Robby asked.

“I’ve tried calling and messaging him a few times, but nothing’s going through.” He couldn’t even get to his voicemail anymore, just got the same automated ‘number unavailable’ message each time. “I think he’s blocked my number.” It wouldn’t be the first time, but it still stung.

Beside him, Tory hummed, leaning into Eli’s side for a second before giving him his space again. “Any idea where he is right now?”

“At his apartment I guess? He’s probably still recovering right now.” Hopefully not from anything more serious than the injuries he’d already had when they’d been separated, but Eli had his doubts. “Things got pretty… intense with his dad, if I know Hector then he’s probably gonna be giving Miguel some space for a little while, but he’ll be love-bombing him like crazy after that, so we’ve only got a brief window where we’ll be able to get to Miguel without Hector around.”

Johnny scoffed, drawing every eye in the room towards him. “I say we just track this Hector guy down and-”

“And what, the ten of us start a war against his entire gang?” There was an unusually sharp edge to Demetri’s voice, one he wouldn’t normally dare aim towards their former sensei for fear of his typical offensive reprimands. It was nice he wasn’t so afraid of the man anymore. “Miguel came here to get away from a war, he’s not going to want to be caught in the middle of anything like that again.”

“We don’t need to make it that big a deal, if we just take down this one guy-”

“You think we’re gonna ‘just take down’ a local crime lord?” And clearly Robby was as sick of his dad’s belligerence as Demetri was.

Eli sighed, rubbing at his temples lightly as he let the bickering carry on around him.

As much as having his old teacher here as backup was a comfort, he’d been worried about getting this kind of reaction from Johnny. The fervour was good, it had its uses, but it had to be very carefully directed or it could easily backfire on them and it probably wasn’t going to be any of them facing the brunt of it if their plans didn’t work out.

“We took down Silver and Kreese-” by this point Johnny had stood up and was pacing restlessly like if he didn’t keep moving he was going to explode “-we can deal with this guy too.”

“This isn’t like Cobra Kai,” Eli snapped, glaring up at the man, “that was all mind games and getting us kids to fight in that stupid fucking war and I’m not even gonna pretend I understand what the end goal was, why running a karate class was worth all that-” he barely understood how they’d gotten to the point where it made sense to treat it so seriously, even if they were idiot kids at the time “-but Hector’s not like Kreese or Silver, not completely. He’s manipulative and good at getting into your head but at the end of the day he’s just an asshole looking to make more money.”

And that was basically all there was to it, Hector was charismatic as hell, knew exactly what to say to get someone dancing the steps he wanted them to, but at his core he was just a businessman. A ruthless, paranoid one sure, but unlike the pair of old snakes, he was pragmatic enough to put his pride away when it became a burden.

There was no way they were going to beat him at his own game like they had with Cobra Kai and if they tried it was only going to drag them all in deeper into a world they were supposed to be getting Miguel out of.

“Look, Miguel’s admitted that Hector’s operation is pretty small compared to other gangs in the area, but he’s still got police chiefs and politicians in his pocket, let alone all the thugs in his gang,” he said quietly, trying to keep some semblance of calm, “it’s not gonna be like Kreese and Silver wanting to make a show of publicly humiliating their enemies, if someone screws with Hector he’s just gonna have them killed and leave it at that.”

“So what, you want us to just sit around thinking what to do? If you know where he is, why aren’t we going after Miguel right now?”

Standing up to press a steady hand on his shoulder, Daniel spoke in the same quiet yet firm voice he often used when his friend was being stubborn, “Johnny, you need to calm down, this is a delicate situation-”

He had to quickly back off and defend himself when Johnny took a swing at him.

Several members of the group half-rose from their seats, ready to jump in and stop a fight breaking out, but Johnny didn’t immediately follow up on his initial attack, even if his heavy breathing and the way his fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides suggested that he really wanted to. He held himself back however and, when it became clear that he wasn’t actually looking for a fight, Daniel relaxed a little in turn, though he hadn’t completely dropped his defensive stance.

“This is the closest we’ve ever been to getting Miguel back,” Johnny eventually choked out, unusually quiet and voice trembling in a way that Eli hadn’t heard since he’d returned from that first, failed, mission to bring Miguel home, “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m done waiting around. I’m taking action.”

Without waiting for a response from anyone, Johnny began stalking towards the door, only stopping when Robby blocked his path, refusing to move and glaring up at him.

“Dad, you’re not thinking,” he said in his low, calm voice, “where are you even planning on going?”

“I don’t know! But at least I’m doing something.” But he made no attempt to force his son out of the way, just stared at him pathetically, like a dog begging to be allowed outside.

And Eli couldn’t say he didn’t understand Johnny’s desire for action. Just a few months ago he’d had basically the exact same reaction and at that point no one had been there to stop him. Which only made it even more difficult to try and come up with a way to explain why they couldn’t just go charging in without a plan.

“Robby, move. The rest of you can come up with your plans, but I’m not stay-”

“Johnny.”

Carmen’s sharp tone instantly cut her husband off and his head snapped around to face her where she was still sat in a lounge chair. In every memory Eli had of her she had always looked so put-together, but right now her hair was an unkempt mess, the dark circles under her eyes rivalled Eli’s and she looked utterly drained.

But her eyes were alight with fire and fury when she turned them on her partner. “Do you think that you are more desperate to see my son again than I am?”

“What? No, of course not!”

“You think I don’t want to go to wherever Miguel is right now and bring him home?”

The tension in the air was choking, everyone’s eyes bouncing back and forth between Carmen and Johnny, but no one daring to interject. If Johnny was stupid enough to try and argue with her in this situation he was going to be well and truly on his own, because it was undeniable that she had more at stake here than anyone else.

Thankfully, Johnny must’ve realised that, because he quickly backed down, shaking his head without saying a word.

“So listen to me when I say that we can’t rush into this. I know Hector, he’s not a man to take lightly, anything we do here could put Miguel in danger.” Carmen still stared her husband down for several long, painful seconds, as if waiting for him to object, before finally letting out a heavy sigh and slumping in her seat slightly; it seemed the weight of keeping up a strong front was getting to her.  “We can’t act rashly, for his sake.”

Johnny shifted awkwardly in place, before walking back over to her and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, mumbling his apologies. And, with that, some of the tension in the room eased, if only a little.

Clearing his throat and flinching when everyone turned to face him, Mitch stuttered out, “So, uh, what is the plan?”

Eli frowned, plucking at more non-existent fluff on the bedding beneath him. “Outside of getting a rival gang to take him out-” or a disloyal underling, Cruz’s face flashed briefly across his mind “-there’s not gonna be any easy way to stop him, I don’t think going after Hector directly is a good idea, sneaking Miguel out of here is probably gonna be our best bet.”

As much as he didn’t want to think about it though, he tucked the thought away as a last-resort plan to come back to if all else failed. Eli didn’t love the idea of getting involved with Rueda’s gang when he’d just escaped Hector’s, but if it was the only way to ensure Miguel’s safety he would try it.

“What do you propose?” Demetri asked and from the look he was giving him he suspected Eli already had an idea.

And he did, even if it wasn’t much of one.

“We need to find Miguel, get him alone and get him to listen,” he said, “there’s a lot of reasons he won’t leave, but if we can just get through to him…”

There had been times he felt like he was getting close before, and now that he’d had a few days to dwell on it he was feeling more positive. The others were right; whatever he said, Miguel wanted to go home and he might be stubborn, but he was already overwhelmed with everything else going on in his life.

If there was a time to strike, it was now.

And they would need his cooperation to escape, if Miguel was fighting them the whole time there was no way they’d ever get him out.

“Hector’s done a lot to trap him here, but for the most part the one holding Miguel back is himself, if he actually believed he could escape…”

“Ok.” When he glanced up, Johnny gave a single nod, as much a show of faith as he’d ever given him. “If you think that’s our best shot, then we’ll go along with it.”

Several faces visibly relaxed at hearing that, and Chris quickly asked, “So, what’s the first step?”

“We should go to his place, try and talk to him there.” Hopefully they could catch him alone, while Hector was still giving him space. The hard part was going to be finding a way to talk to him without him immediately slamming the door in their faces. “Not everyone all at once, it’ll scare him off, maybe just a couple of us.”

“I’ll-”

“I’m sorry but neither of you two should be there,” he said quickly, cutting Johnny off and gesturing to both him and Carmen.

He’d expected the anger from his old sensei, he held it back surprisingly well though, only clenching his fists as he ground out, “You expect us to just wait here?”

“Miguel feels really guilty, especially towards you-” he gave Carmen a sympathetic wince as he nodded towards her “-I don’t know how he’d react to seeing either of you again, but I don’t think he’d be able to stay calm.” He could see Johnny already gearing up to argue with him and continued before he could do more than open his mouth, “Only until we get a better idea of where he’s at, I just don’t want to scare him off again.”

They both still looked frustrated, and he couldn’t blame them. They, more than anyone else here, deserved to see Miguel alive and well.

Though, that was also part of the reason he wanted to hold off on their reunion, wasn’t it? Because Miguel wasn’t well right now, even disregarding whatever injuries he’d picked up after his last match. He hadn’t been doing well for a long time.

Johnny was clearly getting ready to try and convince him otherwise, but surprisingly Sam was the one to step in and back Eli up. “Eli’s right, when we saw him he was seriously freaked out, if he feels ganged up on he’ll probably just throw up a bunch of walls and we won’t get anywhere. Besides you three really could do with getting some sleep; if things don’t work out we’ll need your help and you won’t be able to do much if you’re running on fumes.”

Everyone waited in silence for the verdict.

Eventually, after pushing herself to her feet with a soft noise, Carmen walked over and crouched in front of Eli. Miguel looked a lot like his father, it was undeniable, but he’d always had his mother’s smile. “You know best how he’s likely to react, so I’ll trust your judgement,” she said quietly, briefly touching her hand to Eli’s knee and squeezing lightly, “just promise me you’ll be careful.”

He returned her sad smile and nodded once. “I will. He’s coming home.”

---

“So, this is the plan, we just stand here all night until Miguel turns up?”

Eli frowned, turning away from the building across the street to glare at Robby instead. “You got anything better?”

He stepped a little closer to the mouth of the alleyway that they – along with Tory – were lurking in, eyeing Miguel’s apartment building and asking, “Which apartment is his?”

“First floor, the one on the corner.”

Sharp green eyes scanned across the area Eli pointed out to him, his brows furrowing in concentration before he gave a single quick nod. “Those windows don’t look very secure; I could just jimmy the lock.”

“You’re suggesting breaking into Miguel’s apartment,” he said, not sure if he should be annoyed or impressed.

Tory snorted and took a step out into the main street, turning to face them even as she kept walking backwards. “Beats having a bunch of suspicious people lurking in an alley in a residential area,” she said as she danced away, “we’ve been here for four hours already, someone’s probably already called the cops on us anyway, might as well make it worth their time.”

He wasn’t convinced she wasn’t just looking for an excuse to cause trouble, but she also wasn’t wrong.

Reluctantly trudging after the couple as they crossed the street and bounded up the fire escape, by the time he caught up to them Robby had already borrowed some of his girlfriend’s hair pins and was messing with the window that led into Miguel’s bedroom. Hopefully he wasn’t already home, because if he was the odds of them getting jumped the second they got the lock open were extremely high and with how dark it was Miguel might not recognise them before doing some serious damage.

There was a faint click and a satisfied huff from Robby as he carefully slid the window open. Eli’s hand on his shoulder stopped him from immediately sneaking through, even though if Miguel was waiting on the other side he probably would’ve attacked already.

He made them wait for half a minute anyway, just to be safe, before all three of them quickly crawled inside. Eli stumbled around the pitch-black room until he managed to find the lamp he knew was next to the bed and switch it on. Blinking as his eyes adjusted, he immediately started scanning the room, looking for any sign of Miguel, but the bed didn’t look like it had been recently slept in and nothing was out of place.

“C’mon, let’s check around,” he said quietly, still wary of the neighbours hearing them, as he led the way into the living room.

Robby sighed, following after him and idly looking around while Eli started flicking on more lights and looking for any signs that Miguel had been here recently. “Still don’t see what I’m doing here.”

“Aww babe, we wouldn’t be able to commit felonies nearly as efficiently without you here.”

Her boyfriend rolled his eyes at Tory’s comment. “You know what I mean,” he said, picking a random book off the small, mostly-bare bookshelf, “you really think I’m the guy Miguel will want to see right now?”

She shrugged and vaulted over the couch, opening the door that led to the bathroom and briefly sticking her head in before quickly deciding there was nothing of interest in there and closing it again. “You’ve said it yourself; you’re our resident daddy issues expert, if anyone’s gonna convince him on that front, it’s you.”

His face scrunched up, but Robby didn’t try and deny it.

“Tory’s right, there was a reason I asked you two to come with me-” Eli glanced at the bag of his belongings that he’d never fully unpacked still sat near the front door where he’d last left it “-if it was anyone else here he’d probably shut them out completely, with you two… you weren’t exactly friends when he left, so it’s less pressure on him.”

There was a snort from behind him. “Great, glad to hear that I’m only here because he hates me so much.”

“If it makes you feel any better I already mentioned to him that we’ve all made up with you,” Eli said, wondering if he should take the backpack with him.

He did kind of need his things – he’d had to borrow clothes from his friends the last few days – but it would immediately tip off Miguel that he’d been here and he wasn’t sure that he would appreciate knowing that Eli had broken into his place while he was out. He was probably hoping he was already out of the country by now.

While he was considering it, he turned his attention to Miguel’s own battered backpack dumped next to his. Trying to ignore the guilty feeling building up inside him, he began searching through it, hoping for any sign of what Miguel had been up to, distracting himself from that feeling by quickly continuing his half-finished thought, “I doubt he’s over all the shit that went down between you two, but he also has bigger things to worry about right now. Honestly if there’s someone he’s gonna be pissed at seeing here, it’s me.”

Tory wrapped an arm around her boyfriend’s waist, giving him one of her rare soft looks, before a wicked grin overtook her face. “Besides, can you imagine if we’d let Sam come here? She’d freak on him so bad. That’d scare him off way more than you.”

Frowning and pausing in his rummaging, Eli glanced at her and said, “What’re you talking about, she’s over all that already.”

“Dude.”

He gave her a look that he hoped conveyed how lost he was with her reaction, or lack thereof.

“I thought you’d be the one who’d get it the most,” she said with a groan, running a hand through her loose hair, “sure she had mostly gotten over him, back when she had basically accepted that he was dead, but now the guy who she never got any real closure with is back, why wouldn’t she be dealing with some confusing feelings right now?”

“You never got any real closure with him either,” Robby muttered, probably not intending to sound as bitter as he did.

“Can’t help that I’m just more emotionally mature than Sam-” both Eli and Robby snorted at that comment, and then shared a look confirming that neither would ever admit that to Sam “-as much as I’d like a chance to air things out with him, it’s kinda old news for me.”

Their conversation fizzled out after that, Robby likely a little conflicted about his feelings towards his old rival, while Eli wondered how Miguel would react to a proper reunion with Sam. He’d been unexpectedly hostile the other night, but there had been a lot going on, so maybe it wasn’t all that shocking. However, he knew how weird Miguel could get about Sam, how much he had always prioritised her over nearly everyone else in his life.

He didn’t want to feel jealous, not when there were way bigger concerns to worry about and he knew that they weren’t actually going to get back together, if only because Sam wasn’t interested anymore. But it was hard not to worry that, even if they succeeded in bringing Miguel home, he was going to lose him again, one way or another.

“His place is a little bare, don’t you think?”

Eli blinked and pulled his hands out of the bag he’d long since forgotten he was searching, pushing himself to his feet and looking around for another target. “He doesn’t have much to spend.”

“Isn’t his dad loaded?” Robby asked, poking at the leaves of the single houseplant Miguel owned.

“Yeah, but Miguel doesn’t like to take his money, he tries to live off what he makes from odd part-time jobs and his legit MMA matches, which isn’t that much, especially when he’s not been able to fight for most of the last two months due to injuries,” he said, heading over to the fridge and opening it slowly, inspecting its contents. Sighing, he closed it again – resisting the urge to slam the door shut – and leaned his forehead heavily against it. “He hasn’t been here.”

Tory came up next to him, her hand light on his shoulder. “How do you know?”

“These leftovers in the fridge, the bags by the door. Everything’s exactly where it was the last time I was here.”

So where the fuck had he been instead? Maybe he was staying with Maria and Luis, keeping close to protect them. A nasty voice in the back of his mind whispered that the last time he’d seen Miguel was when he was about to step into the ring, up against two opponents with a handicap that only increased his disadvantage.

What were the odds that he’d gotten out of that unscathed?

“You’ve either got a really good memory, or you must’ve been over here a lot to be able to immediately notice that,” Robby said, joining them and giving him a searching look, “is this where you disappeared to when you took your things and ran off?”

“Not immediately, I stayed at a hostel for a week or so first, then…” He coughed, trying to ignore the faint heat in his cheeks as he remembered exactly what happened after that. “Shit happened and I basically moved in here after.”

Robby didn’t take the hint, still staring at him intently. “What happened?”

“Look, it doesn’t matter, he’s not been here so there’s no point in sticking around, we should get going.”

“No, wait, stop right there-” Tory grabbed onto his arm as he pushed past her, holding him in place and giving him a hard glare of her own “-did you hook up with Miguel?”

He tried to keep his blank mask in place, but Tory had always been way too good at seeing through that bullshit.

She let out a bark of laughter and grinned at him, still cackling like she couldn’t believe it. “No way, you totally did! You dog,” she said, letting go of his arm only to – lightly by her standards – punch his shoulder, “he’s a great kisser, right?”

Behind her, Robby’s eyes rolled up to the ceiling. “Can I not hear you talking about your ex like that?”

“Don’t worry babe, you’re better. Well… equally good in a different way anyway.” At the offended look on his face she burst out laughing again, wrapping her arm through his and pressing herself up against his side. “Relax, I’m joking. You’re better.”

Eli groaned; she was almost worse than Tadeo. Almost. “I’m with Robby on this one, you can shut the fuck up about this.”

Making up his mind, he grabbed his backpack and shoved in the few belongings he’d left lying around that he might actually need as he started heading back to the bedroom so they could escape.

He’d hoped that she might be kind for once, but he should’ve known better than to expect Tory to drop a bone that had been so neatly laid out for her. “So, you and Miguel~” she practically sang, “man, I knew he was into you but I never thought he’d actually go for it.”

He was reaching to switch off the bedside lamp when he registered what she had said, stopping short and glancing back at her. “What?”

“Oh yeah, back when we were dating we used to play fuck marry kill with each other all the time, mostly celebs but one time we were naming people in the dojo…” Her grin was showing way too many teeth, she looked borderline predatory. “Let’s just say I got a little suspicious that every time you were an option he picked marry pretty much immediately.”

“No one actually takes those games seriously.” He was probably blushing hard, but there was a not-insignificant part of him feeling incredibly giddy at that revelation.

“Yeah, but I did start paying more attention after that and he stared at you a lot back then-” she held a hand out, fingertips hovering barely a millimetre apart “-I was this close to telling you to learn how to keep your fucking shirt on so my boyfriend would stop ogling you.”

She made a startled noise when he suddenly flicked off the lamp, plunging them all into darkness. Their eyes quickly adjusted, but she at least wouldn’t be able to see how bright red he must’ve turned thanks to her inability to be normal about anything ever. The distant streetlights were enough to navigate by as he made his way back to the window and crawled out, immediately clambering down the fire-escape, not caring how obvious it was that he was just trying to escape the conversation.

Of course, he didn’t actually expect Tory to drop a topic that was getting a rise out of him.

“Couldn’t help but notice that there was only one bed in his place,” she said casually as she joined him back on street level, “and the couch didn’t look slept on.”

He refused to meet her eyes. “I see where you’re going with this and I’m not discussing it with you.”

Basically cackling at this point, she elbowed Robby as he trailed after them, the three coming to an unspoken agreement to get out of the area as quickly – but calmly – as possibly, just in case someone actually had seen them breaking in and called the cops. “Ohh, they’ve one-hundred percent fucked already, damn Eli, nice work!”

“Tory.” Robby’s sharp tone was enough to quiet his girlfriend’s mockery for a moment. “Lay off him.”

Eli threw him a grateful glance, glad that he’d either picked up on Eli’s growing discomfort with the conversation, or was just uncomfortable enough with the topic to not want to hear any more.

But it wasn’t the mockery of his sex life that was upsetting him – he would expect nothing less from Tory and any other time he would probably be giving as good as he got – it was the fact that he and Miguel weren’t together anymore. Eli didn’t even know where he was right now and when they finally did see each other again Miguel was definitely not going to be happy about it.

And he hated how much his feelings were complicating the whole ‘rescue Miguel’ mission. They were a distraction he really couldn’t afford.

“I know things didn’t exactly end well last time we saw him-” Robby said quietly, coming up to his left side while Tory fell into step on his right “-but, when we find him again, what will you do? Do you still want to be with him?”

“Of course that’s what I want,” he snapped, increasing his pace until they turned the corner, where he automatically looked back until Miguel’s apartment was completely out of sight. Sighing and pulling his backpack further up his shoulder, he scowled at the sidewalk as they trudged along the quiet streets. “I just don’t think that’s what he wants.”

Tory hissed and her face twisted itself into an embarrassed knot. “Ah, shit, sorry man,” she said, scratching uncomfortably at her jaw, “I wasn’t trying to-”

“I know you weren’t, don’t worry, we’re cool.” He gave her a grim smile to show he meant it, and her obvious relief was immediate.

He knew better than anyone how much she struggled with being empathetic sometimes. The ways she tended to say stupid, hurtful shit because she knew she was joking but sometimes forgot that not everyone thought like she did and her sense of what was appropriate was maybe a little warped. Eli got it though, which was probably why they got on so well.

It was probably also why she occasionally slipped up around him and let her brain-to-mouth filter drop because she felt comfortable enough around him to let her nastier side out. Normally he wouldn’t mind it, but not when he was already so emotionally vulnerable thanks to Miguel.

“Could you guys maybe not tell the others? Demetri figured it out already but…” He didn’t want even more pity. But he couldn’t bring himself to say that, so he gave another excuse instead, “I really don’t want Sam to find out.”

He was expecting the loud cackle and had already tensed in anticipation of the shoulder shove before it connected, so he barely even stumbled when Tory pushed at him. “You sure? Bet her reaction would be fucking hilarious.”

“Tory.”

Robby’s warning tone did little to dim her bright grin, but she did at least stop laughing so much.

Rolling his eyes, Robby ignored his girlfriend and turned his scrutinising gaze onto Eli instead. “We won’t tell anyone. But you should think about what you want from Miguel. Ideally before you see him again.”

What he wanted from Miguel was everything they’d already had for the last two months, minus the stress and interference from Hector. He wanted to go back to all those moments when they’d been alone and free to discover each other inside and out, sharing their joy and fear and grief and devotion.

But, if he couldn’t get that, he’d settle for knowing Miguel was safe.

“I want him to come home,” he said, voice quiet and trembling, though he wasn’t about to draw attention to it.

He didn’t need to anyway, because Tory dropped her hand onto his shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze. “Obviously, and we’ll make sure that happens, but what about after that? Because the Eli I know isn’t gonna be satisfied with memories, he’s gonna want more.”

Try as he might, he couldn’t really deny it. If they succeeded and Miguel came home with them, but he still didn’t want to be together…

Eli was greedy, especially when it came to Miguel. He could say he’d be happy just to have his friend home and safe, and he might be able to pretend he was for a while, but he had too many memories now. How would he ever be able to hang out with him just as friends, knowing how sweet a kiss from him could taste? How was he ever going to be near him and resist the urge to reach out and tangle his fingers in Miguel’s hair, or stroke his thumb down his sensitive neck? Would he ever be able to cope with being denied the gentle touches and soft words Miguel gave out so easily when he’d come to rely on them so much to keep him grounded?

Apparently reading his mind, Robby simply said, “You’re allowed to want more.”

“I… maybe.” Wanting more wasn’t really the issue, it was actually getting what he wanted that he was worried about. “I’ll think about it, but I’m not gonna actually ask him for anything until I know how he feels, he’s already got enough to deal with right now without me throwing all that on him.”

Tory squeezed his shoulder a little tighter again and Robby lightly nudged him with his elbow, a silent show of support from two of his closest friends.

Of all the people who could’ve found out, he was kind of glad it was them, but he was determined to make sure no one else did.

---

The door slammed shut behind him, rattling dangerously as it did, but Eli couldn’t bring himself to care as he jogged over to the group waiting on the other side of the street.

Mitch raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t comment directly on his foul mood, just pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning against and asked, “Nothing?”

Trying to hold back the growl building in the back of his throat, Eli shook his head and didn’t wait for the others to gather their bearings before stalking away down the street, not even knowing where he was going but needing the movement to burn off the anxiety scratching under his skin. “No one’s heard from him since his last official match, well before the last time we saw him.”

After realising that Miguel hadn’t been home since they last saw him, the next plan had been to start asking around to see if anyone had seen him. Going to his gym had been a long-shot, but Eli had hoped that – as his coach – perhaps Ossi might’ve been updated if Miguel had been injured. He hadn’t been, hadn’t even spoken to Miguel or Hector in over two weeks apparently, though he was worried that his student had skipped out on several training sessions without informing him.

He hadn’t thought that just finding Miguel was going to be the most difficult part of their mission.

“Is there anyone else who might have heard from him?”

He glanced over at Sam, biting at the inside of his cheek as he considered their limited options. “Maria and Luis, they’re basically his family, but I don’t have a way to contact either of them and they live with Hector, just dropping over probably isn’t a good idea unless we can guarantee he won’t be there.”

“Anyone else?” Chris asked, walking ahead of him before stopping, blocking his path and forcing Eli to hold in place.

It didn’t help his anxiety any, but he at least had the chance to catch his breath. “Yeah, one more.”

Pulling out his phone, he reluctantly scrolled through his recent messages, found Tadeo’s name and started typing so rapidly he was amazed the words actually came out coherently.

Need to talk to you, where can we meet?

He didn’t have high hopes; he’d already texted Tadeo two days ago asking if he’d seen Miguel and – after some confused questioning that he’d refused to indulge – the man had eventually told him simply that he hadn’t and Eli had left it at that, ignoring any further messages asking him why he was even asking in the first place.

He wouldn’t be surprised if the guy didn’t even want to talk to him after that, but it only took a few minutes for his phone to vibrate in his pocket with a message containing only an address and the word ‘cabrón’^[236] which was honestly kind of deserved.

Sighing, he quickly looked up the address and informed the gang that they were heading out.

Sam, Chris and Mitch quickly started trotting along behind him, asking where they were going and who they were meeting. He wasn’t sure how much he should say, so settled for telling them they were meeting Miguel’s closest friend down here.

They didn’t need to know he was also Miguel’s ex. That would just raise more questions than he was prepared to answer.

Luckily their destination was close enough they could walk it in under thirty minutes, ending up outside another gym, presumably the one Tadeo worked at. He was already waiting outside as they approached and the second he caught sight of Eli he marched over, already shouting, “Yo, Hawk, what the fuck’s happened to Miguelito?”

He stopped in front of the man, staring down at the furious expression in shock. “What do you mean?”

“He’s totally disappeared! No one’s seen him in a week, he’s not been home every time I’ve gone to his place, and his phone’s been disconnected, what happened?”

Eli frowned, focusing on the one new piece of information given to him. “Disconnected? I thought he’d just blocked my number.”

It was throwing him off-balance seeing Tadeo this angry, after all of their previous interactions he honestly hadn’t thought he even had the capability for that particular emotion in him. “If that’s all it is then he’s also blocked my number, my ma’s number and the number of the random guy in my gym whose phone I borrowed to try and call him yesterday.”

Eli blinked at him, suddenly deeply regretting the way he’d gone about asking for information from Tadeo before. Apparently his lack of explanation had freaked him out quite a bit if he was going that far trying to contact Miguel.

And the implication that it wasn’t only Eli that Miguel was avoiding didn’t bode well. Because what other reason was there for his phone being disconnected? Unless it was to do with Hector’s meddling…

“Seriously, what’s going on?” Tadeo wasn’t giving him much space to breathe, backing him up against a wall on a quieter part of the street, though he didn’t attempt to make physical contact, just crossed his thick arms across his chest. “Last time I spoke to Mig he seemed fine, then I don’t hear from him for a few days and then you start asking where he is like you haven’t been joined at the hip for the last month and now when I try and contact him, he’s up and disappeared.”

Sighing, Eli glanced to where the rest of his friends were hovering, looking torn between jumping between them and just letting things play out. He gave them a look that he hoped communicated that it’d be best for them to hang back before turning his full attention back to Tadeo.

“It’s… complicated. When was the last time you heard from him?”

“A bit over a week ago now-” before the excursion Hector had dragged them on meet Rueda even, and well before Eli last saw Miguel four days ago “-and like I said, he seemed fine.”

“Yeah, things have kinda gone to shit since then.” Cringing at the understatement, Eli lightly smacked the back of his head into the wall behind him, ignoring the crunch of spikes being bent out of shape and staring up at the too-blue sky. They were really starting to run low on new ideas for finding Miguel here. “Do you have any idea where he might have gone if he’s not at his place?”

Tadeo shrugged, backing off a little as he seemed to realise that Eli didn’t have any more answers than he himself did. “I don’t know, crashing with his family I guess. Why’re you even asking me? He’s your boyfriend, not mine, why don’t you know where he is? You two get into a fight or something?”

He opened his mouth to snap that they weren’t fighting, but didn’t get more than one syllable out before what Tadeo had said before making that insinuation finally registered in his brain at the exact same moment he heard a strangled coughing sound behind him.

“Hold up, hold up, boyfriend? Dude, are you and Miguel…”

Mitch didn’t finish his comment, and when Eli slowly turned his head to face the group, he figured it probably had something to do with the look on Sam’s face.

She didn’t even look all that mad, but her expression was twisted into something that was part scepticism, part indignation, but mostly pure bewilderment. He didn’t want to keep looking at it for long enough for her to settle on one mood however, so he snapped his glare back to Tadeo, who at least had the grace to look ashamed.

“Mierda, lo siento vato,”^[237] he said quietly, eyes flicking back and forth between Eli and the others as he seemed to really notice them for the first time. “¿Quiénes son estos personas de todos modos?”^[238]

Sighing, deciding that the fallout from being outed could wait, he rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Amigos de Miguel.”^[239]

“¿Más locos del kárate?”^[240]

Eli snorted at the phrasing, but nodded since Tadeo wasn’t exactly wrong.

“¿Sabe que están aquí?”^[241]

He nodded again, but didn’t say anything.

Tadeo gave him a hard look, still so unlike his usual cheery demeanour, but whatever he saw in Eli’s face it was enough to make him sigh and uncross his arms to scratch at the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Entonces supongo que esto es más que una simple disputa de amantes.”^[242]

How much should he say? Tadeo deserved an explanation for why his friend had disappeared, but he didn’t seem to be fully aware of what Miguel was involved with, and presumably there was a reason Miguel had never let him in on that aspect of his life. “Su padre-”^[243]

But apparently that was enough.

“Joder.”^[244] The grimace was immediate and Tadeo quickly waved a hand in Eli’s face to shut him up. “If it’s to do with him you might not want to be talking about it so out in the open.” He glanced around like he was afraid any passing stranger might be on their way to rat them out to Hector, and Eli had to wonder what Hector had done or said to make Tadeo so scared of him. Or how much he’d figured out on his own despite Miguel’s efforts to hide what he was involved with. Stepping closer and lowering his voice, he asked, “You got a plan?”

They’d had a plan; it was rapidly becoming less feasible the longer it took to track Miguel down. “We’re working on one.”

Tadeo was about to speak, but was cut off by the shout coming from the direction of his gym as one of his colleagues called for him to hurry up and get back to work. He shouted back that he was on his way, before looking back at Eli with that same unnaturally hard expression.

“Then do it quick, whatever it is.”

As if he’d needed to be told. Eli nodded anyway. “If you hear from Miguel-”

Clapping him heavily on the shoulder, Tadeo started slowly turning away. “I’ll let you know. You keep me updated too, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Tadeo flashed a wide smile that seemed more habitual then sincere, before jogging away, leaving Eli and the others staring after him in awkward, uncertain silence.

And, if no one else was going to acknowledge the elephant in the room, he certainly wasn’t going to be the one to do it.

“C’mon, let’s head back, we’ve found all the information we’re gonna get today.”

“Uh, right, yeah.” Mitch was quick to trail after him as he started walking away, looking up directions to the closest bus stop as he did.

The other two followed after them, both quiet, though Chris tried to make something approaching small talk by rambling vaguely about some ideas he and Demetri had been throwing around the night before. By the time they managed to get on a bus heading to their hotel, Eli had almost fooled himself into thinking that he might’ve gotten away with not needing to talk about it, at least until Sam was finished with whatever deep thoughts she was trapped in, until Mitch went and ruined it for him.

“So, seriously? You and Miguel? Like, actually? Like that?”

Sucking in a slow breath, Eli counted to ten before opening his mouth. There were other people on the bus, they didn’t need to hear him shouting. “Got a problem with it?”

Mitch waved his hands in front of himself desperately. “N-no, it’s cool man, I’m totally cool with it-” Eli hadn’t really been expecting otherwise, and felt a little bad for worrying his friend when it was really himself he was most frustrated with right now “-it’s just… are me and Demetri the only straight people left in our group now?”

“That’s your main concern?” Chris asked incredulously, giving his best friend a judging look that was mirrored by both Sam and Eli.

Obviously realising how outnumbered he was, Mitch shrunk in on himself. “…No?”

Rolling his eyes, Chris flicked his best friend on the ear before turning to face Eli, smiling at him gently. “Look, I know it wasn’t exactly your choice to come out like this, but we support you, man,” he said, holding out a fist expectantly, “you and Miguel.”

Unable to leave him hanging, Eli half-heartedly returned the fist-bump, surprising himself with how warm it made him feel. “Thanks.”

“So, are we keeping this a secret, or…” Mitch trailed off, throwing an uncertain glance towards Sam, who was staring at Eli intently, but still hadn’t seemed to settle on one consistent emotion yet, her brows furrowing and relaxing, occasionally biting her lip, only to start pouting a few moments later.

Eli was willing to bet that if they’d been anywhere less public she might’ve blown up at him by now. So forcing herself to be quiet to avoid embarrassing herself was either giving her time to think and calm down and process whatever feelings she had, or it was giving more time for her confusion and anger to simmer to a boil which was going to come out with all the more force the second they were alone.

Either way, it wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to.

“No point. Everyone else figured it out already, you’re the last to know.”

Sam’s eye twitched slightly at that, and both Chris and Mitch complained about being kept out of the loop, but Eli ignored all of that, calling Demetri to tell him they were on their way back and to pass on the little knowledge they had gained on their excursion. Or rather the knowledge that they hadn’t gained.

Because they were no closer to finding Miguel now than they had been a few days ago, all they’d done was rule out a few more places.

He was trying not to think about the implications, but it was getting increasingly harder not to worry about where he was. The only place left he could think of was Maria’s home and if that’s where he was then it was going to be a nightmare trying to get close to him.

They might have to seriously rethink this idea of getting Miguel on board first and instead just hope that if they made a rescue attempt he would be quick to accept it without resisting.

And the trip back to their homebase didn’t give him much time to think of more alternatives, especially when the second they arrived back at the hotel and got to their rooms Sam dragged Eli out onto the balcony, slamming the door behind them hard enough he was amazed the glass didn’t shatter.

It also very clearly communicated that this wasn’t a conversation she wanted anyone else intruding on.

“What the hell,” she snapped, glaring at him darkly and fidgeting in place restlessly as if she didn’t know what to do with all the frustrated energy she’d built up on the way here, “were you ever going to tell me that you and Miguel are dating?”

He was instantly on the defensive, crossing his arms and smirking down at her, leaning closer to emphasise the height difference between them. It was an old habit from their school days, but somehow arguing with Sam always managed to bring out that side of him. “Don’t see how it’s any business of yours.”

“You know, me and him never officially broke up,” she said slowly, obviously seeing what he was trying to do with the intimidating posturing and looking like she wanted to smack the grin off his face, “so I’m pretty sure I could make a case for it being my business.”

He snorted, backing off a little and moving to lean his back against the railings. “I know for a fact that you haven’t considered yourself ‘in a relationship’ for years, you’re not even into that shit anymore.”

Sam coming out as aromantic the previous year had taken most people by surprise, but the second she’d announced it, several things started clicking into place for Eli that suddenly made a lot of their teenage years start to make sense. And she definitely seemed a lot happier since she’d started putting all the romance drama behind her and just allowed herself to enjoy the platonic relationships that she found so much more fulfilling.

She hesitated for a long moment before copying his position, fingers tapping against her crossed arms as she turned her head away from him, glaring off to the side. “So not the point.”

Despite himself, Eli did actually relax a little hearing the childish, petty tone of annoyance she spoke in.

It hopefully meant that she wasn’t actually genuinely upset, she was just working through her emotions in the way she usually did; starting by getting her anger out and then working her way back from there.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t still going to jab back at her in retaliation however.

“Do you even actually care? Or do you just feel like you still own him and hate that he’s not all yours anymore?”

He’d never claimed to be a mature person.

Her head snapped around and her mouth dropped open as she stared at him in shock, which made him feel only a little bit guilty – they’d been verbal sparring partners for a long time now, he’d walked right up to the line, but he knew he hadn’t crossed it. “Jesus, Eli, I know you never liked me and him dating, but did you seriously think I thought he was my property or something?”

“Just saying,” he said with a shrug, “you’ve always had him wrapped around your finger and you’ve taken advantage of that more than once.”

“Ok, fine, I was bad at being in a relationship, so were you at the time if I recall.”

His face screwed up, but he didn’t have an immediate counter to her accusation. Because, really, had any of them been ‘good’ at dating in their teens?

Well… Demetri apparently, since he was somehow still with his first and only girlfriend after five years for reasons that Eli still couldn’t comprehend, but he didn’t really want to acknowledge that fact and he was sure Sam wouldn’t either. Honestly he wasn’t sure he was that much better at dating right now anyway.

“Look, I’m not trying to start a fight here, you know I don’t want him back or anything,” she said, quieter now that she’d gotten the anger out of her system, “as weird as it was to think about at first, you and Miguel together makes way more sense than it should and, I mean… I get it. Kinda.”

Bless her for trying. She really didn’t get it – though not for lack of trying – but he gave her a brief smile to show that he understood that.

Tilting her head back and heaving out a sigh, Sam’s fidgeting fingers started plucking at the material of her shirt. “Just… I don’t know. I don’t even know why it upset me so much.”

Eli let his gaze drop to the ground, clenching his hands tightly around his upper arms where they were crossed. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure it’s over between us,” he said softly, not sure how he’d managed to speak without his voice breaking. He could certainly feel the tears pricking at his eyes and had to squeeze them shut to block off the sensation.

“Why would that make me feel better?” she asked, her tone as sharp and unyielding as the hand she had just smacked against his arm.

He opened his eyes to glare at her, only to flinch under the full force of the kind of fury he hadn’t seen from her since they were kids.

“And it’s definitely not over,” she said, not letting him get a word in edgeways as she moved to stand directly in front of him, prodding him in the chest with a blunt nail, “you forget I have personal experience; I know exactly how hung up on someone Miguel can get.”

“I’m not you.”

“Thank fuck for that-” he couldn’t help snorting at that statement and she grinned at him in return “-look, I’m just saying that if Miguel really cares about someone, he won’t give up on them.”

He had to admit she would know all about that. It was part of what he was worried about, even if he wasn’t about to say it out loud, especially not to Sam herself. Because what if Miguel came home and decided that Eli wasn’t the one he just couldn’t give up on?

“And I know he cares about you.”

He had to suck in a sharp breath and bit his lip harshly to hold back the distressed noise he wanted to make.

The idea that Miguel might chase after him with anything close to the desperation with which he’d once chased after Sam… He wanted it.

He really fucking wanted it.

And when he thought back to all the times when he and Miguel had actually been happy together, when he’d felt genuinely cared for, how clear Miguel had always made it that he would always put Eli’s safety well above his own, the real joy they’d shared just being around each other…

That wasn’t nothing. He refused to believe it. He had to mean something to Miguel, just like Miguel meant the world to him.

All he had to do was fall back and trust him, like he always had.

Sam had undoubtedly noticed the wet sheen to his eyes and the quiet sniffs he was trying to hide, and she gave him a pitying smile before patting him gently on the shoulder. “Ok, I’ve had my rant, you’re off the hook for now,” she said, grabbing his arms and pulling him away from the railing and back towards the room. “Come on, let’s go figure out how we’re gonna get your boyfriend back.”

---