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2021-01-31
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Window Seat

Summary:

Santiago regrets his life choices

Work Text:

According to his watch, that Santiago is very discreetly checking, they have been in the air for twenty-two minutes and Frankie is already asleep in the window seat. 

Not that he begrudges him the sleep. It’s just that the window seat would have been Santiago’s. Frankie gleefully snatched it as soon as they boarded the plane, which was still fine. Santiago understood his need to see the clouds after being forced to stay on the ground for so long. The problem was that Frankie, in typical Frankie fashion, has struck up a conversation with the old lady in the aisle seat - a conversation which did not end when he fell asleep. Instead, Santiago has to continue it, sandwiched between a napping Frankie and Brazilian grandma, in the middle seat, much to the amusement of the Millers two rows down. They have a good view of the situation and Benny, the bastard, has already given him a thumbs up and a cheeky grin. Will at least has the decency to not openly smirk at him, but the quirk of his eyebrow betrays him. Santiago mock-rolls his eyes at them. 

Luckily, Tom is a few rows ahead of them, having cashed out for extra legroom. He would certainly not approve of Frankie drawing attention to them this way. Now at least one passenger will remember them, and if the mission goes FUBAR - and who is he kidding, missions usually go FUBAR, they just sometimes improve to SNAFU before they end -, that can be an issue.

Santiago has thought ahead and made sure that Frankie’s fake passport had his actual first name, as he expected at least one exasperated “Frankie!” to leave his mouth before they arrive. The fact that he had to say it within ten minutes of take off was fairly normal as well.

What’s definitely not normal is how they’ve ended up like this.

*

Santiago knows that he can’t bullshit Frankie. The others might fall for his persuasion tactics, because as close-knit as they were, are, brothers in a way, he has always had a limit, a threshold he never let them cross. Except for Frankie. Santiago didn’t exactly plan to open up to him, it just happened, in reciprocation of his openness. Frankie has always felt safe, there’s always been a welcoming softness around him. At least it’s been there for Santiago and in their private moments over the years, it just poured out of them altogether - secrets, fears, desire, passion. No holds barred, no expectations, just a bond that grew so naturally that Santiago hasn’t even noticed how strong it’s become until he decided to fuck off to South America on his misguided quest to do good for a country his mother was homesick about her whole life.

Much fucking good he has done. He was such a fool to believe honest efforts would change everything. But back then he was full of hope, like a starry-eyed teenager, telling Frankie his big plans, too caught up in his dreams to notice the sadness in his eyes as he listened to him.

At least Santiago didn’t drag him down with him in this disappointing farce. As much as he wanted Frankie to come with him, there was Morales family trouble at that time and it was tough going. So Santiago didn’t ask him, afraid to put him in a situation where he would have to choose between bad and worse. And Frankie loved him enough to let him go to pursue a dream he didn’t even believe in. 

It must have hurt him, because it sure as hell hurt Santiago. The first excitement hadn’t even worn off when he already felt like a car missing a wheel, hobbling to stay on a path. He pushed it aside as much as he could, telling himself there was a greater sense of purpose to his life than simply loving a good man. He could make a difference for a lot of people, not just one, so he had to. Because being able to do good and not doing it, it was unimaginable.

At the end of the long and painful road which has led him to today was the realisation that he was a fool. Turns out he grossly overestimated how much he could do. He was done. He would get rid of Lorea, so at least all those years chasing justice wouldn’t be a complete failure, and then get out. 

So he texts his old team and travels to meet them again.

Will is easy to string along, they share the same sense of justice and the eagerness to help the world. His condition - getting Redfly to join in - even corresponds with his own plans.

Tom is broke, so the money is the main selling point. Santiago points out that the military done him dirty, but in the end, it’s a monetary consideration. Bills need to be paid and the kids are too talented to not send them to college without student loans crippling them for life. 

Benny is a good few years younger than them and still thirsty for adventure, he would have probably said yes even without his brother joining.

Frankie is a whole other story. Santiago has to swallow down his guilt over asking him to meet. Frankie has been in contact over the years, and while their conversation has been a poorly executed attempt at bullshitting each other how they don’t hate their respective lives and everything is in order, they have always read between the lines. Santiago knows about the kid and about the woman whose relationship remains unclear to him, and taking a new father from his family is the last thing he wants to do. It’s just that he needs a pilot he can trust. Also, Frankie would probably feel offended if he wasn’t invited with the rest of the old team. And while deep inside he knows these are just excuses to see him, he can’t resist to ask this time.

Of course, Frankie comes to meet him at Benny’s match. He hugs and teases Santiago as if only hours and not years have passed since the last time. He looks so ashamed when he gives his reasons for not wanting to come that Santiago doesn’t call him out on his bullshit, even tho he doesn’t get the same treatment from him.

Frankie volunteers all the pieces of information later anyways. Some of it already on the corridor, and it turns out Santiago can still read him like an open book. He is not surprised that  “no big deal” is actually a big deal, but how big a deal it is only dawns on him later.

He is driving Frankie home from the match, and everything unsaid before comes to surface. Santiago understood right away that “my lady is not into me doing that kind of shit anymore” was Frankie-speak for relationship issues. But just as no big deal turned into a licence review due to a coke rap, the rest of his story unfolds into the biggest clusterfuck Santiago has heard. (And which wouldn’t have happened if he stayed, if he hadn’t left him, goddamnit.)

Feeding each other half-truth through telephone is one thing, but as soon as it’s just the two of them, without an audience, the floodgates open. First Santiago spills all the details he didn’t give the others, then, 

My lady turns out to mean baby mama, a one night stand Frankie got pregnant, because condoms do fail sometimes. They decided to keep the baby and try to have a relationship so they can raise her together, but they didn’t really have much to offer each other and coparenting a baby is, not surprisingly, straining on even the best relationships, not to mention ones destined to fail from the get-go. 

Santiago just wants to slam his head on the wheel, because of course stupidly loyal and kid-loving Frankie would do this kind of shit.

She is strict that Frankie doesn’t do anything grey or illegal anymore, and legal work pays significantly less with the same crazy hours. Between a fussy baby, a frustrated mother and the outlandish working hours, Frankie’s exhaustion reaches the point where he no longer can function without the extra boost, and coffee is not enough by far. He can’t fly while falling asleep, so he starts to use coke to take him through the working hours and of course he gets busted.

Santiago only resists the urge to remind him that he has done this already years ago and should have known better, because Frankie sounds guilty enough as it is.

Money has been tight from the beginning, and Frankie’s suspension just worsens the situation. He is kicked to the couch, and the only reason he is not kicked to the street is because none of them can afford an apartment on their own, and friends and family on both sides are reluctant to help out, and rather watch them suffer for their stupidity. 

“Shit, Frankie! I’m so sorry” is all Santiago can say, as he pulls Frankie into a fierce hug. 

“Me too” Frankie mumbles into his neck. “Guess life didn’t pan out for either of us as we imagined.”

“No, it didn’t.”

Santiago tightens his grip around him. For a moment he allows himself to ignore the circumstances and just lose himself in the moment, focusing on Frankie’s hot breath against his neck and his heartbeat against his chest, and he holds on longer than necessary, afraid that if would let go too soon, he wouldn’t be able to resist kissing him. Which is not a good idea, as they parked in front of his house, and they don’t have a good track record with stopping after one kiss.

Instead, he gently takes off Frankie’s cap, runs his fingers through his curls, starting from his neck and presses his mouth into his soft, messy hair. The sound Frankie lets out is halfway between a moan and a hiccup and Santiago can’t suppress a smile.

Life is funny like that, two colossal fuck-ups having a soft moment together in a rented car across the street of a rundown apartment complex and it feels like everything stands still so they can enjoy it.

Until of course, it has to end. When Frankie pulls back, his eyes promise Santiago that he only has to ask, and Frankie would stay. Another minute, another hour, the night, the year, the lifetime. He swallows hard, wanting to ask, but the bile is rising in his throat at the sheer selfishness of that. So he just stares after Frankie as he leaves, at the empty space he leaves behind, and his cap that is stuck between the carseat and the door, forgotten in their surreal moment of togetherness.

Santiago gathers it up, he will give it back to him at the airport, or use it as an excuse to see him again next day, he’s not sure. 

He grabs on to the steering wheel, flexing his fingers then tightening his grip again. He doesn’t start the car yet, his head is not clear enough to drive.

“What am I doing to you?” he whispers, horrified. 

Money is a band-aid to Frankie’s situation, it might temporarily hold things together, but will not fix it in the long run. Leaving now, on the other hand, can make it significantly worse. She sounds like a tough lady who definitely won’t appreciate Frankie agreeing to do the job before consulting her, which is understandable. Even then, it can break things beyond repair. There are so many bad outcomes, (death, he tries not to think about that) all brought on by him, not that not doing anything would be better. Still, whatever slim chance at happiness Frankie has left, Santiago is actively ruining it. 

He’s physically sick of himself. He fights down the urge to open the car door and vomit, taking deep breaths and trying to calm his mind. He starts counting the windows on the house, a trick he picked up from Will, to distract himself. 

The light goes on on the second floor and through the curtainless window he picks out Frankie’s silhouette. He has looked out for him on so many missions, his attention immediately snaps to it, on auto-pilot. A woman appears next to him and Santiago holds his breath. He doesn’t mean to spy, but he needs to see the destruction he’s bought on. It’s clear from their body language that the discussion is heated, they must be shouting and Frankie is probably doing that growl he has when he is upset. It goes on for a while, ebbing and then escalating again, and then she slaps him. It’s so quick Santiago nearly misses it. Frankie’s reaction is… a non-reaction. He just stands there and takes it, and from the angle it’s not visible, but Santiago is sure his shoulders sag. She turns away and walks out of view. Frankie remains for a while, unmoving, before he disappears too. 

Santiago is familiar with Frankie’s non-reactions, perfected over years of getting in trouble for petty offenses and getting chewed out - rightfully or not - by someone higher in the ranks. No matter how hard the military tried to mould them into perfect killing machines who follow orders without asking questions, they could never break down the Morales spirit. He also had the nasty habit of sassing them just to deserve being chewed out, if he thought they were unfair with him and he could still get away with it. And Redfly probably still has nightmares from the time he put a two star general they just rescued on Frankie’s helicopter unscathed, who arrived at the base with a black eye and favouring his left leg. So it was safe to say, Frankie had a good grasp on when the line was finally crossed and it was time to shut up and take it. 

The fact that Frankie neither tried to de-escalate, nor tried to stop her from hitting him, clearly showed that he felt he deserved whatever was coming his way, and it breaks something in Santiago. This is no way to live, trapped in a loveless relationship by a sense of responsibility and guilt. 

He drives away, just to put miles between himself and the scene he witnessed, to fight the temptation of taking Frankie with him right away. It wouldn’t solve a thing if he rushed in and upset the woman even more. He’s done his fair share of damage for the day.

There is whiskey in the minibar of his hotel room, but he decides against drinking away the pain. He deserves to feel it, he deserves it surely more than Frankie does. 

The days until the flight drag. Santiago makes sure to send the consulting money in advance. He hasn’t missed the unpaid bills on Tom’s fridge and however slim the chance is that it improves Frankie’s situation, he wants to give it to him. He sources fake passports, books the flight, keeps himself busy. And every night he stares at Frankie’s baseball cap on his nightstand, and promises himself that tomorrow he will give it back, knowing full well that he would hold on to it as long as he can instead, wishing it was its owner he could hold on to.   

Thursday morning they gather at the airport. Frankie looks unhurt, but exhausted, holding on for dear life to mediocre airport americano. Santiago promises him real Colombian coffee once they land, and that earns him a tired smile. He also hands him back his cap, which he puts away in his bag, after Tom sternly reminds them that a bunch of grown-up men in baseball caps at an airport doesn’t really scream unassuming. 

Boarding goes without a hitch, it’s not their first time with fake papers, after all. Frankie snatches the window seat from him, and Santiago pretends to be exasperated, just to humour him. The prospect of being in the air, even if only as a passenger seems to have lifted his spirits a bit. So Santiago sits in the middle row, and he puts on the seatbelt, just to have Frankie practically climb over him moments later, starting up a conversation in rapidfire Spanish with what appears to be an old lady, who failed to grab a stewardess’ attention. But Frankie is jumping to action, all the gentleman grandpa Morales raised, and by the time Santiago recovers from the whiplash of activity, he has already put her bags in the overhead compartment and is engaged in a conversation about visiting family. Frankie asks about her grandkids while he clambers back to his seat, and then leans over to look at photos. Somewhere in the process he took off his jacket and his bare lower back is now on display with his T-shirt bunched up and the low-riding trousers. Santiago shivers just from looking at him, it’s so cold on the airplane.

“Frankie, I swear to god, if you catch a cold before we even leave the country, I’ll…” Santiago doesn’t finish the sentence, realizing that whatever he could threaten Frankie with falls into the category of attention inducing, so he just bites his lips and tucks the offending T-shirt back in.

Frankie doesn’t even react, too engrossed in getting the whole family history of their seatmate. He is leaning over Santiago’s lap, who has nowhere to put his raised hand now, so just leaves it resting on the small of his back.

Santiago has lost track of the conversation at the mention of a second cousin, but he keeps listening anyway. It’s nice to hear Frankie just chatter on like this. Then the old lady asks about whether they have kids. Santiago sputters, not sure he hasn’t misunderstood the question. 

Frankie, on the other hand, whips out his phone and shows a photo of baby Morales, dressed in a yellow giraffe patterned onesie and a matching bow in her hair. She is her father’s daughter, already sporting the beginnings of the fabulous and uncontrollable Morales hair. The first photo is of her cutely smiling into the camera, but the second and the third Frankie pulls up show her with his father’s full-face grin and the distrusting scowl that is apparently induced by orange coloured baby food visible in the left corner of the picture, respectively. Anyone could tell these two are related. The old lady earns brownie points with Santiago for not only complimenting the beauty of the baby girl, but also pointing out how she apparently gets it from her daddy. Frankie, honest to god, blushes at her statement. Santiago catalogues this for later use, when he has the opportunity to tease him about it. 

Frankie sits back in his chair for the take off, leaving Santiago to pick up the conversation about kids and family spread across different countries. The old lady is insistent on talking, but at least she has a good sense of humour, and Santiago finds himself strangely invested in her stories.

They are barely halfway in the air, when he feels Frankie’s shoulder against his.

“I was up all night. She’s teething. It’s a nightmare” is all the warning Santiago receives, then Frankie rests his head on his shoulder and he’s out faster than light. 

Santiago wrestles the armrest up so it doesn’t dig into their sides. As Frankie doesn’t even react to that movement, his breathing is even, sleep-heavy, Santiago fidgets into a more comfortable position for the both of them. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, enjoying the familiar weight and warmth of Frankie against him. He barely notices he has dropped the conversation, until a stray curl shaken loose by the slight turbulence tickles his face. He opens his eyes, just to make sure he doesn’t hit the old lady when lifting his right arm to smooth it back, using the opportunity to run his fingers through Frankie’s hair again. His ear feels cold as he brushes against it, so he picks up his jacket and covers him with it. He gently pats it down, only then turns to apologize to the old lady.

She doesn’t look offended that he has ignored her, quite the contrary, she smiles at him warmly before asking whether he wants to sleep too. Santiago assures her that he prefers talking. So here he is, conversing about nothing of importance with a stranger, while Frankie is napping on his shoulder, and if he is being honest, he could get used to the everyday ease of this.

*

Two hours into the flight they go through turbulence. The plane jumps against the wind, and Frankie stirs. He’s on the verge of waking up, but slow coming out of it. Santiago doesn’t look this time as he lifts his right hand to Frankie’s face, strokes his thumb against his cheek and gently scritches his patchy beard.

“It’s okay, it’s just turbulence. Sleep on” he whispers to him.

“Yessir” Frankie murmurs back, and falls asleep again. Santiago wonders when was the last time he slept undisturbed, he goes down too easily for someone who gets regular rest.

“Your boyfriend is very cute” the old lady observes, and Santiago is dumbfounded for a second. He never mentioned a relationship status, but he can see how the lack of rings, their intimacy and Frankie not correcting her when she asked about their kids would get her to come to that conclusion.

“Please don’t say it within his earshot, it will inflate his ego” he says, not confirming but playing along.

“Oh, I do think he needs to hear it every day. When you get to my age, you will regret all the times you missed to tell your loved ones how much you appreciate them” she replies, and Santiago notices the hint of sadness in her voice.

He changes the subject, and luckily Frankie appears to be completely oblivious to being called cute again. He sleeps through the entire flight, using Santiago as his personal pillow, nearly five hours of rest to at least partially make up for the missing night. Santiago enjoys this illusion of normalcy as long as it lasts.

He helps the old lady with her baggage after they land, ignoring Benny’s grins directed again at him. They have enough time for a quick meal and significantly better coffee during the layover, and then one more flight to their destination, this time with less stress as they are already in the country. The plane is full of families and tourists, they are forced to sit separately from each other, and Santiago ends up in the second row. He has no idea where the others end up as he is seated first. Frankie playfully slaps his shoulder with the back of his hand as he walks by and that’s all the interaction he has with any of them the whole flight.

He idly flips through a magazine he’s bought, there is barely anything interesting in it, he mostly got it to blend in better. He is definitely not thinking about what the old lady has told him, or about how it could be the last mission for any of them. He is not a sentimental person, after all. But he has a hard time not thinking about Frankie.

Tom is here because he desperately needs the money, Will is here because he feels like he owes Tom and Benny is in it for the adventure. Santiago doesn’t feel bad for bullshitting them. He needs a drug lord taken down to ease his conscience, to not feel like he’s abandoning the people he has so wanted to protect. But Frankie is not here for money or adventure, or even for doing justice. He’s here because Santiago asked, and he loves him too much to say no. Frankie has had all the reasons not to come, and yet here he is. Even tho Santiago failed him. It’s not that he’s just realizing it now, it’s just that it’s really settling in how much. He left him to chase a dream, didn’t even call quits on whatever they had at the time, just up and left, and couldn’t get himself to be honest how much he still cared, otherwise he would have noticed sooner how wrong things were. Frankie, like a dog, let Santiago kick him and ignore him and yet came as soon as he was called, with eager happiness that he was noticed again, puppy eyes filled with love. 

Self-hatred is still a new thing. He has never seen himself as a bad person before, but he feels like one now. Well, he’d better get familiar with the feeling, they are about to commit a crime and not in the name of a country but for their own gain. As much as he likes to dress it up like they are being regular Robin Hoods and helping the poor, what they are going to do is criminal. It’s a new Santiago he has to reconcile himself with. The old one craved justice so much, he sacrificed everything else in his life for it. The new one wants his life back so much, he’s willing to resort to crime to get it. He just hopes that they make it out alive (and rich) and he won’t drag his friends with him when he falls. 

*

They arrive late in the afternoon, it’s already getting dark and they are still a three-hour car drive away, so they decide to spend the night. Santiago chooses a nondescript hotel that lets them pay cash and doesn’t even scan their passports. 

Hotel is a gross overstatement, it’s a motel from the kind where truck drivers overnight when they cannot cross the border until the next day. The Millers decide to room together and head off after agreeing to meet up at sixhundred next morning. Tom walks away with his key afterwards, telling them he would go through the plans again tonight. There’s a decent chance that it’s his silent way of giving Santiago and Frankie space. Tom started serving under don’t ask, don’t tell, and maybe for this reason or just out of politeness, he never alluded to knowing or suspecting the true nature of their relationship. 

Santiago asks for a room for two, giving time to Frankie to object if he wants to, but the objection never comes. He pays in advance, and only realizes that Tom’s departure must have been more pointed than he thought, when he enters the room and sees the double bed.

“Sorry about this” he offers and Frankie raises an eyebrow in return.

“Are you?” he asks as he shrugs off his bag from his shoulder.

No, he’s not, and Frankie knows it, so Santiago just hums noncommittally.

“First dibs on the shower” he says instead.

The water takes forever to heat up properly, but he steps under it when it turns from cold to lukewarm, and washes off the dirt, airline smell and sad thoughts. By the time he finishes, the water temperature is optimal, so he keeps it running while he quickly towels off and ushers Frankie in to waste as little of it as possible.

He texts his informant from his burner phone to confirm the time of their meeting (and no, Tom, he’s not sleeping with her for obvious reasons), then sets an alarm for next morning. Frankie has already dragged the curtains closed and threw off the excess pillows from the bed, so he has nothing to do. There is an old TV but he doesn’t feel like flipping through the channels, so he just sits on the bed and waits.

Frankie comes out of the bathroom soon, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He heads for his bag, but Santiago grabs his arm to stop him and pulls him down to the bed instead.

Frankie gives him a questioning look, and Santiago can’t resist running his hands through his shower-damp hair before cupping his face and tracing his mouth with his thumbs.

“I missed you” he says earnestly.

Frankie’s adam’s apple bobs and his mouth opens and then closes, but it seems like the words are stuck on his tongue. The lamplight breaks in his dark eyes as if they were a little damp and when he blinks, Santiago leans forward and kisses him gently. He doesn’t need those words anyways, he knows what they are, the same ones he intended to say instead of I missed you.

So they settle for the lesser truth and a soft kiss. Then Santiago pulls back, to look at him again, to face what he walked away from and what he now surely doesn’t deserve to get back. 

He tucks errant strands of hair behind Frankie’s ears, and feels him tremble under his touch.

“Do you want this?” he asks.

“Yeah” Frankie more breathes than says the word, but it’s clear enough.

Santiago kisses him again, this time he’s not being gentle, he presses his lips hard to Frankie’s, crashes their teeth together and  Frankie eagerly responds, moving in to close the distance between their bodies. Santiago grabs into his hair and pulls, just the way he remembers Frankie likes it. It earns him a moan, same as always and he is suddenly off balance. Frankie throws himself back and pulls Santiago on top of him, and he’s shaking already, and Santiago might just lose his mind from sheer want.

It’s a messy affair, they are both too impatient, too out of practice with each other’s bodies. They are fumbling like horny teenagers, but Santiago doesn’t care. Frankie’s body is fever-hot and trembling with need, he moans into their kiss and he’s so hard for him...

*

Since his neck operation laying flat on his back is the only comfortable sleeping position. Frankie has snuggled up next to him, face pressed to his bicep, their fingers intertwined, an arm and a leg lazily thrown around him. Santiago played with his hair and they exchanged breathless nonsense, until their hearts stopped racing and Frankie started dozing off, and now he’s just watching him. Trying not to regret the past and willing that tomorrow it will go well.

Because Frankie deserves the world, and Santiago will give it to him, one way or another.