今天凌晨點進信箱看，本以為是廣告信件，沒想到竟然是WCN續集-AWY出來的通知🥳🥳🥳
超開心，想說這麼久都沒消息，以為今年可能看不到了，結果突然來個措手不及🤩🤩🤩

這裡主要會記錄AWY的片段📝
Again With You - Chapter 1 - apollos - Better Call S...

Chapter 1

They are soldiers coming home from war together, the war they had fought together, against each other, and they've cast away everything but each other.

-

Lalo crouches and continues washing him. He retains the same detached, clinical efficiency, even when he finds his ways to the parts of Nacho that used to be his favorite.

He does not pause to tweak his nipples, or slip a finger inside Nacho more than the necessary shallow twist, or drum his fingers over his balls, or take his dick flat into his palm. He does not pause to nip at his thighs or lick the dimples on Nacho's back. He does not tap a tune out on the ticklish spot on Nacho's side or behind his ear.

He touches Nacho as if he had never touched him before and will never touch him again.

-

He can feel Lalo's hot mouth pushing smoke into his own, and Lalo's hand on his thigh, so real, as if it were happening now, and Nacho wishes it were. If he could go back—

He can't go back. He can only go forward. But he does not want to go forward—but he does, he fought for it—but forward is right here, right now, cold tile and warm steam, Lalo holding the song steady with his bird-bone mouth, the smell of copper underlying perfumed soap like a copper desert snake lying in wait.

-

Nacho has no retort. Lalo is right. Nacho does love it. Loves the feel of it. Has woken to many half-dreams, half-memories of that mustache crawling up and down his body, smoothing over the dreamed murderous sweet nothings Lalo would whisper to him.

Now, in this present, this present that Nacho is wading through a current of pain and exhaustion to stay present in, he watches as Lalo methodically shaves, then rinses his face, then applies aftershave. He turns his head from side to side.

-

His body transforms like this, elongated, efficiently wiping away the previous ugliness and his demeanor, confident—a spider with prey in its web—and Nacho hates, more than he hates any part of this, the stab of attraction that hits him in the gut harder than any of Lalo's fists.

-

He is, actually, totally naked in front of Nacho, even more so without the mustache, and Nacho is struck with an urge to touch him, see if anything else has changed, that he promptly suppresses.

-

After the phone call, with the morning throwing its first streaks of light across the sky, Lalo stops by Ignacio's side and stares at him. Very distant flames of fondness curl up in his gut, but Lalo isn't sure if they're actually there or if he wants them to be there on some subconscious level.

Chapter 2

Then he takes the time to put his old jewelry, the bracelets, the chains, the ring, and the earring, in the hidden sewn-in pocket of his duffel bag that he'd stuffed his mother's charm bracelet wrapped in and, for some reason probably God doesn't even know, Lalo's torn shirt from the day at the track.

He realizes he has nothing of his father's. Not even his face.

Nacho is his mother's child and he knows it.

-

Lalo keeps sipping his coffee. There is too much space between his nose and lips without the mustache. Nacho wonders what it would be like to kiss him, now, and in that wondering knows that it won't happen for a while, but it will happen, and he probably won't want it when it does, but he wants it now.

-

Lalo pushes Nacho's underwear—he still hasn't put his pants back on—to the side, touches the bare skin at the top of his thigh. It sends an electric current more powerful, burning harder, than that of the tattoo needle. "My initials. Here."

"You're branding the boy," The doctor says in a way that tells Nacho the doctor knows the type of man Lalo is, and to that, Lalo says nothing.

-

He looks like a philosopher, and he basically is, thinking of whatever he is thinking about, plans of murder or ways to humiliate Nacho or maybe marry him, or maybe just about the stars, or maybe he's thinking about Hector's cigar on the back of his neck, or maybe he's thinking of his mother, but Nacho knows that he's probably thinking about him.

-

Ignacio is pale and sweaty. His facial hair is patchy, growing in; he must have shaved every day, a habit Lalo was not aware of and, it seems, a habit Lalo shares. Now, they both do not shave their facial hair into a certain shape, the habit always the same. Everything always the same. They know each other too well, now.

-

Ignacio narrows his eyes. Tilts his head. He studies the situation, but Lalo knows the cogs in his head are rusted and slow, and he knows that Ignacio will do what he does: open his mouth for him, slowly and still with untrusting eyes, but he opens his mouth for him, and he is Ignacio, his Ignacio.