The Sketch

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/45425380.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandom: Narcos (TV)
Relationship: Javier Peña (Narcos)/Original Female Character(s)
Character: Javier Peña (Narcos), Original Female Character(s), Original Male
Character(s)
Additional Tags: Introspection, Family Dynamics, secrecy, references to drinking, small
town
Language: English
Series: Part 2 of The Crush
Stats: Published: 2023-03-01 Words: 1044

The Sketch
by the_ginger_hedge_witch

Summary

The party from Gabe's POV.

Oh. This is real fuckin’ subtle.

Gabe stands at the edge of the patio, beer raised to his mouth to hide his smile. He’s been watching
since the party began, tracking the progress of a wager he’s placed with himself. And he’s honestly
not sure if he’s winning or losing.

You’d been nabbed almost as soon as you had come out of the house, as had Javier before you,
both of you doing a somewhat good job of pretending like you had little interest in each other as
you’d been held captive by the Flores family matriarch and anyone else who saw an opportunity to
pounce.

Give this town something new…hell, anything new and they swarm. And here they have two.
You’re just back from college. Javier is just back from Colombia. Their long lost daughter and son
returned to the cradle.

Gabe snorts. And not a single one of them has noticed what’s actually going on, too focused on
your already assigned role in their head and their predetermined interview questions to realize
there’s a much bigger story.

Amazing how people just glance right over anything they don’t expect to be there, too busy filling
in the lines with their own perceptions. Perhaps it’s all the time he spends studying subjects to
sketch, perhaps that’s why it’s so obvious to him. You look at any surface long enough, and you
can’t help but notice the cracks.

Ope, there you go again.

Thank God he didn’t make it a drinking game because he’d already be halfway to falling down.

You’re still standing with a group of people close to the house, but your attention is clearly
elsewhere. Just like it’s been for the last month or so, and the timing oddly aligns with when a
certain former DEA agent returned home.

You always did have a thing for Javier.

Gabe can remember you mooning over him while you pretended to read your book, watching him
whenever he wasn’t looking and blushing all the way to the tips of your toes if he so much
as existed in your general vicinity.

Of course, Javier had been completely oblivious to your teenage crush on him. Gabe’s parents and
brothers had, too. Something he couldn’t figure out — how six people spent every waking moment
together and still didn’t know each other.

But Javier? Javier he had understood.

Around the time your crush kicked into gear, Javier was busy getting his ass kicked by long hours
at the DEA office. No time to notice the food on his plate let alone the people around him after he
had thrown himself into the deep end not long after his mamá passed and barely came up for air.

Had it helped? Had it taken the savage edge off the grief? Had it helped any more than his own
method? Drawing out sketch after sketch of her in his notebook.

Her smile mostly. He’d never felt like he’d been able to get the eyes quite right, to capture the only
pair that he felt had actually ever seen him.

He had kept meaning to give a few of the sketches to Chucho, to Javier, but he never had gotten up
the nerve and now…twelve years later. Can it really be twelve years?

It feels longer. But maybe that’s just because time stands still around here.

God, he’s bored. His fingers itching, wanting to reach for that same notebook and pencil that he
knows damn well is tucked away back in his room at home. Wouldn’t do at all for him to spend
time on that when he could be sociable.

He takes another swig of his beer, more out of habit than preference. It’s too warm, too bland,
might as well be drinking water. But then people would start asking if he’s given up drinking, if
it’s a health thing or if he has a problem.

Horror of horrors, they might use it as a way to start a conversation with him and if he has to spend
any more time talking about how well the Cowboys will do this year or how the crops need rain or
how the cattle are growing, he’s going to lose his damn mind.

He watches as you pretend to listen to the conversation in front of you, your hands twisting and
turning in the hem of your shirt. Your eyes covertly scan for Javier every couple minutes. And
Javier… Jesus, not oblivious now. He’s just as bad if not worse.

You finally excuse yourself, walk by Javier as you head for the coolers, and yes, Javier is
definitely worse.
God, help him with this. This town is going to have a fucking field day, not to mention the family.

His eyes scan quickly for them, knowing exactly where he will find each of them. His mamá is
fussing with the food, arranging and refilling plates. His father is talking football, surrounded by a
group of men like he’s still their quarterback. Speaking of which, Aarón, of course, is also right
there at his right hand, ready and waiting to sub in. And Eli is…well Eli is, of course, at Aarón’s
right even if his attention appears to be wandering over the land the same way he wishes his feet
could.

And then there’s you. How is no one in the family noticing?

You are so distracted all the time, fidgety, constantly looking for someone whenever you’re in
public and… your eyes shift again, a small smile when you find your target… and it appears
you’ve found them.

You and Javi. Interesting.

Apart from the obvious age difference he can kind of see it… You’ve both got restless spirits,
quick minds… big hearts. Even though it’s been eight years since he last spent any real time with
Javier, Gabe suspects that’s still the case.

Hm… very interesting.

Gabe supposes he shouldn’t complain too much about everyone’s blind spots. You’re clearly going
to need them, along with maybe some additional help. He does happen to have a few tips. Gathered
from years of convincing everyone he’s someone he’s not just by pretending to be what they
expect.

He surveys the congregation once more. Is it too soon to leave?

What about too late?

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