#also 100% stole that initial exchange between Min and Barrón directly from S3’s Como La Flor

[hausofmamadas]

OJITOS ANOCHECIDOS | Part 1

✷✷✷ LONGFIC IN PROGRESS ✷✷✷

Pairing: David Barron x Enedina Arellano Felix [aka Dinarrón]

Word count: 2.5K

✷ DISCLAIMER: This is an AU version of Barron, like to the point that mans has essentially become my OC. So, for the purposes of morality/sanity/all that is holy and correct this, we are disregarding Narcos: Mexico - Season 3, episode 8, Last Dance. For details, refer here. Also, gonna say this now: if I have to disclaimer “not condoning/glorifying the real people” aka “i don’t sanction the actions of drug cartels,” you're in the wrong place. Like best take that elsewhere porque ya te lo juro, for civility's sake, we will not be going there my guy. ✷

TWS: kinda aren't any? No sexing or dying ? Mostly Barron moping. Maybe canon-typical violence but i wrote this 100 years ago so can't remember for sure.

⁂

However surprised he was, it was also how he knew she was genuinely in love. She'd never set aside her freedom fro a business arrangement or a publicity stunt. Despite her trademark pragmatism, when it came to love, she refused to settle for anything less than fucking fireworks. *We were fucking fireworks.*

Just hours after Enedina Arellano Felix and mild-mannered, Mexico City lawyer Claudio Vazquez are pronounced husband and wife, David Barron finds himself at their reception regretting everything about taking this job as AFO head of security. It's not the pressure-cooker conditions of being the top sicario for the #1 Mexican drug cartel. It's not bc his own boss, Benjamin Arellano Felix loathes him. It's not even the taxing task of managing sibling dynamics in a family business where the siblings are cutthroat criminals and the family business is Crime. No, it's worse. Much worse. This small-time, Logan Heights pandillero has got it bad. Not at all on his radar when he got to TJ after his last stint in prison, but he's met someone perfect. Vibrant, witty, understands his work, someone who knows what it's like to be an outsider, between worlds just like him. Someone who loves him as much as he loves her. The problem? Just hours before, she walked down the aisle with mild-mannered, Mexico City lawyer, Claudio Vazquez. And none of it was part of the plan.

⁂

Barrón looked grimly out the double doors of the hotel ballroom. He took a big swig of water, then inspected his glass with a mixture of longing and mild disgust. God, what he wouldn’t do, who he wouldn’t kill, for it to be a glass of straight tequila or rum - fuck, he would’ve taken vodka with a chaser of everclear at that point. He had half a mind to ask Pancho to sneak him something from the open bar. But Benjamín would lose his shit if he found him drinking. Cabrón already yelled at him for using a cocktail glass just for club soda.

*Ey, ¿te pago por pistero o para que encargues de la securidad?*

*Es agua mineral.*

*El agua es para los invitados. Pancha, encárgate a tú gente.*

He rolled his eyes. Tú gente. Mín always treated him like he was disposable, an unwanted piece of furniture - the kind that clutters the living room, but you’re too lazy to haul it off to Salvation Army, so out of frustration or boredom, you shuffle it around, kicking it, knocking it, scuffing it up all along the way. If Mín knew how much she meant to him, how comprehensively he belonged to Dina, how gutting this whole godforsaken day had been, he wouldn’t have treated Barrón like some dog shit he tracked in through the front door.

But it was fitting, wasn’t it? Because David Barrón felt like dog shit. If he wasn’t so quiet and reserved by nature, he might’ve melted down catastrophically, like Rayo in the middle of Padre Baiz’s toast, or worse yet, tackled the groom, and pounded the shit out of his handsome, son-of-a-politician, country-club, joker face. He let himself daydream for a moment, lost in the emphatic thunk of his fist making contact with Claudio’s cheekbone, and again with the crest of his orbital socket, with his temple, blood on the fake wood, linoleum panels of the dancefloor, a few satisfying, angry, red specks on the collar of Claudio’s crisp, white dress shirt, Dina’s eyes, like a panicked horse, frantic and furious. He faintly shook his head, shaking the daydream loose with it. No, he could never humiliate Dina that way.

It had only been a few hours since she walked down the aisle. He replayed the soft, lamenting smile she gave him, as she and Mín passed him in the pews, and it split him in half all over again. It was as if to say, yo sé, mi cielito. I’m not sorry you’re here, but I am sorry. Even now, Barrón was still trying to reconcile the deep ache in his chest with the the swell of pride he felt at the first sight of her - regal, radiant, self-possessed, strong … *beautiful.* She never needed the ornate jewelry, hair piled two feet high behind her veil, the opulent, stately dress with the thousand-foot train, to be any of those things though. Truthfully, he preferred regular ole Dina. In fact, he hated the way her relatives gushed about how nice she looked on the way to the church, how they wished she’d get done up more often like this - *deja que veamos lo guapa que eres* - but also how they supposed she didn’t need to anymore since she finally landed a husband. As if she needed one.

ᴥ︎

When he first arrived in Tijuana with Pancho, Barrón was struck by Dina, impressed by how she never played by anyone’s rules or did what was expected. It was a quality he’d come to respect and treasure most about her. Regrettably, it was also a quality he knew she’d lose to this marriage, not by hers or even Claudio’s choice but by force of circumstance. You can’t play the dutiful wife of a politician, have babies, renovate your mansion, make hoers d’overs for high society galas, *and* head a major drug cartel faction. Life just didn’t work that way and Dina was practical enough to know that, which is why her engagement to Claudio came as such a shock to everyone, including Barrón. However surprised he was, it was also how he knew she was genuinely in love. She’d never set aside her freedom for a business arrangement or a publicity stunt. Despite her trademark pragmatism, when it came to love, she refused to settle for anything less than fucking fireworks.

*We were fucking fireworks.*

Except, Claudio wasn’t some pocho hood felon from Logan Heights. No, he had money and status and despite the illicit nature of the Arellano organization, they had both of those too. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t come by them honestly. Although, given what he’d seen of the Arellanos’ day-to-day hustle, the work they put in to get where they are, sometimes he felt they came by their status more honestly than the “respectable” Mexico City politicians and Tijuana elites. But that was just it. Claudio afforded the Arellanos respectability, or at least the perception of it, something they’d been chasing since their family relocated from Badiraguato to Tijuana years ago.

But the worst part, the part that he still couldn’t stomach - Claudio was a genuinely nice guy. He had an authentic, quiet charm. He was even-tempered and easy-going. Though not particularly gregarious, not the type to be the life of the party, he also wasn’t quick to anger, wasn’t controlling, and he not only loved Dina, he also respected her deeply. Dina was the kind of person who innately commanded respect but there were few men who could pay it proper, few who could honor her the way she required. There was a time when Barrón believed himself to be the only one who could rise to the occasion; almost comically sickening how wrong he was.

“Que pasa, carnal?” He felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. He turned around, accosted by the sight of Ramón’s fur coat. Barrón smiled, accepting the beer that he hid in pocket of the coat’s inner lining. Thank god por esto pinche obstinado, chifladito and his crazy fashion sense. Watching Món argue with Mín earlier, as he pleaded with him to leave it in the limo before they walked into the cathedral, was the first of few bright spots in an otherwise abysmal day. He smirked thinking about the look on Mín’s face, like he was about to have a seizure. He was so mad.

“You are kidding me con estes pendejadas Ra-món!” It’s always easy to tell Mín is really angry when he pronounces Ramón’s name as two discrete words.

“Ponte vergas, do you know how expensive this shit was? I don’t care, I’m not leaving it in the car.”

Barrón smirked when Panchito rolled his eyes and Mín looked like he wanted to bitch slap all three of them. But Dina, ever the diplomat, “Benjamín, ni vale madre nada, leave it alone. He likes the coat and so do I.” She winked at Món who flashed a wolffish grin back at her. Barrón half-expected him to stick his tongue out at Mín but he didn’t.

And now, Ramón and his coat were 2:2 for the night’s little victories, coming thru with a smuggled bottle of Corona. Still cold too, though he could’ve done without the mink strands stuck to the condensation on the side of the bottle. He must’ve made a face.

“Yeah, my bad, I don’t really know what to do about the shedding,” Ramón laughed.

“Nah man, it’s alright. I appreciate it.” Barrón surveyed the room, trying to clock Mín.

“Ah don’t worry, her royal highness Benjamín is too busy kissing the asses of all these Mexico City high rollers,” he motioned to the crowded ballroom, “to be encabronado with you for drinking a beer.”

Barrón shrugged, unconvinced, “do me a favor, just watch my back real quick.” Món looked puzzled but caught on, positioning himself in front of him, as he popped the lid off the bottle with the bottom of his Bic lighter. He winced at the hissing sound. It was nearly impossible to hear over the band’s PA, but that didn’t stop him from glancing around once more before downing the whole bottle in a few desperate, manic gulps.

“¡A huevo!” Ramón clapped him on the back, and he almost choked as he tore the empty bottle from his lips. “You want another one?” Ramón snapped his fingers at one of the juniors by the bar.

“Nah, nah man, don’t worry about it. I gotta stay sharp, anyway.”

“Pffft why? So, you can be ready for those pendejos to attack?” He bobbed his head in the direction of Guero and Azul’s table. “Everyone who wants us dead is already here, they were half the guest list.” He had a point there.

“All the more reason to stay sharp, no?”

Ramón gave a knowing smirk and nodded his head. “Alright flaco. Now, I remember why Pancho buddied up to you in prison, you don’t fuck around. Guess he was right to bring you to work for us,” with two fingers he did a mini-salute to Barrón, a gesture he couldn’t help but chuckle at, the cheeky bastard.

Barrón put his hand to his heart, feigning offense, “Don’t tell me you’ve doubted me this whole time? *Tsk tsk* cabrón.“

“Well, what was I supposed to think about some gringo from what- wherever the fuck Logan Heights is?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever playboy. You better get back to the party before Mín yells at me for talking too much, or breathing, or whatever.”

“How sweet, you called him Mín. You’re really one of us now,” he bowed jauntily as he walked away, “welcome to the family.”

Now that guy … he’s the life of the party.

ᴥ︎

He never expected to like Ramón as much as he did. But Barrón had to give it to him, he knew how to have a good time, and he did it in a way that drew others in without being intrusive. Shit, vato just needed to throw one of those wild, frat boy grins and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Barrón spent a lot of time observing people. Mi ensimismadito Dina used to call him, among other things: lost in thought, cool, aloof. Nothing he didn’t already know. In truth, he watched the world because he was shy, but it’s also what made him so intuitive, an almost prophetic judge of character.

So, the first time he met Ramón at Roxanne’s, he thought he’d sized him up right. He figured Món had it easy, hiding behind his older siblings who did the real work running the business while he ran around Tijuana smoking crack and ruining kids birthday parties, emptying clip after clip of A-K rounds into a clothesline of raw tuna at the park. The loudmouth, huevón baby brother, just another wannabe sicario with all the drug habits and homicidal tendencies of a gangster but not serious enough to get his hands dirty. That is, until Pancho told him about how he “took care” of the whole Chapo-tunnel problem by executing 12 men on site. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sized somebody up so inaccurately, if ever. And though he’d never let Panchito know it, if he was really honest, that plot twist is probably what made Món his undercover favorite of the family. Well, second favorite.

Incidentally, his second favorite Arellano was the only Arellano who knew who his actual favorite was. Dina claimed she didn’t tell him, that he’d guessed. Perhaps he did, but Barrón always wondered if maybe she let something slip. She might’ve told him outright given that they were so close. God, he was mortified when realized that Ramón was on the up and up. It seemed such a scandal at the time, only to matter so little now.

”Ey morro, I’m goin’ to Roxanne’s, you should come with. I’ll introduce you to this chick I’ve been hooking up with. She’s bringing some friends–,” he whistled, and pantomimed a chef’s kiss “*muah* déjame que te cuente, son buuueen chuladas.”

“Ah shit man, I can’t.” Barrón tried coming up with a credible excuse. “I uh- I told your brother I’d help Dina. You guys are hiring new security personnel and I know some vatos from back home that they’re gonna use. Gotta get ‘em on the ‘payroll.’” Ramón laughed at his air-quotes around payroll.

*Sick, he bought it.*

Just as he was about to leave the kitchen, he heard the fridge close with an emphatic *thunk* and turned around to see Món tossing an apple in the air, sauntering over with a dark grin that screamed “trouble.” He reminded Barrón of that snake from The Jungle Book. Pinche plebe and his cartoons, he’d probably watched that movie ten damn times.

“Man, that’s so weird. I guess I heard Dina wrong earlier when she told me she wasn’t stopping by the club tonight because she had to take our mom to the doctor and then to get her hair done.” He bit down into the apple, the crisp crunch cutting the silence, and stood there chewing and grinning like a loon.

“Right, so I don’t know shit about shit, but have you ever heard of a hair salon that’s open at midnight? TJ is a huge tourist attraction but I don’t think we even have one of those.”

Barrón was silent. He couldn’t decide whether it’d be best to take out his gun and shoot him on the spot or run. Maybe he’d get lucky, and Món would save him the trouble by choking on that stupid apple. He stuck to his signature aloofness which tended to intimidate people enough not to ask follow up questions. But Ramón was a live wire of a person, and he doubted the effect would be as chilling.

Still, he didn’t push the issue. A mouth full of half chewed Granny Smith, he just kept on teasing, “S’weird right? I just don’t know why she would lie though. I wonder if–,” his eyes got wide as he lowered his voice, “shit, maybe she has a secret boyfriend or something. I mean it’s bout time someone made a nena of our lovely Enedina.”

Barrón wore a look of pure ice - liquid nitrogen level cold - as he tried to assess whether or not Ramón was leveling a threat or just taking the piss.

Almost as though he could sense his well-disguised panic, Món gave a buoyant shrug, “Oh well! I’m sure it’s nothing,” and bounded cheerfully out of the kitchen.

That exit sealed the deal. He felt reassured that Món would have the good sense not to say anything to anyone. He just wanted to see him squirm.

*That motherfucker.*

ᴥ︎

taglist: @cositapreciosa @criatividad-e @cherixrosa @ashlingiswriting @ashlingnarcos @narcolini @bellinitini @purplesong1028 @tinylittleobsessions @kesskirata @mandaloria314 @marrianena @southotheborder @artemiseamoon @narcos-narcosmx @carlislecullenisadilf @thesolotomyhan @narcosmx

*cue Whitney Houston’s And I Will Always Love You*

A huge thank you to everyone in the Narcos/Nmx writers discord/thot congregation for basically being a large group of betas and for always giving me a safe space to share my nerdy borderline psychotic love and enthusiasm for this show. You guys and everyone else in this tiny fandom are the best🥹