Despacito (Slowly)

En retrospectiva, Despacito tal vez no había sido la mejor canción para intentar seducir a sus amores. Pero en su defensa, Jake jamás pensó que recordarían suficiente de la letra como para identificarla, mucho menos que su Estebancito intentaría usar Google Translate para enterarse de que decía.

Author note: Jake doesn’t speak or think in English, and thus, formally, everything from his point of view is completely in Spanish. However in the interest of Clarity and Sanity, the rest of his chapter will not be in Spanish. His external lines will still be in Spanish, but those? Those you can get by context or by reading the notes at the end.

But after Layla suggestion, it had taken both Marc and Steven less than 10 minutes after they ended the call to find Despacito, get the lyrics… and for Steven to turn the prettiest shade of pink Jake had ever seen.

“Voy a desnudarte a besos despacito , Sr. Grant,” He whispered, as he drummed the rhythm on the steering wheel of the Limousine, as he remembered how flustered Steven had become. If Steven had been alone? Jake would have been tempted just to get to the Front, make himself known and show Steven exactly what every line meant, because well, sometimes things could get lost in translation.

But Marc? Marc had been trembling with anger and jealousy... and more than a little turned on, Jake knew.

Jake didn’t quite understand the anger and jealousy. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t also tried to convey to Marc how much he loved him too. But then, Marc Spector was a complicated man when it came to the matters of the heart. Jake knew, oh, he knew. He had done everything he could to try and salvage the marriage to his Morenita, who didn’t know she was his Morenita, and Marc still had gone and messed things up.

Thank the Gods for Steven, Jake and Marc’s Corazón, because Steven had taken one look at the situation and called Marc for the fool he was.

But going back to Marc? Jake knew he had to plan a different strategy to get Marc to realize that on one hand, he wasn’t a slave to Khonshu, and on the other… well, Jake didn’t know exactly what on the other.

He hadn’t really been planning to let himself be known. He was fine with being the whisper behind his beloved’s ears and letting them go along with their lives.

It never occurred to him that the ease and relaxation that allowed Steven and Marc to switch almost seamlessly would also include him if he was equally relaxed.

You are getting distracted, Jake.

“No digas tonterías, compadre,” Jake replied, as the song on the radio changed to a more lively rhythm. “La misión es la misión.  Lo que haga yo con mi vida es aparte.”

Marc said the same. And now he’s playing house with the worm.

Jake glared at Khonshu through the rearview mirror. No one, absolutely no one got away with insulting his Estebancito.

Not even the gods.

“Tenemos un acuerdo, Compadre,” Jake said, enunciating slowly even if he knew the God would understand even if he spoke in Chinese. Not that Jake knew Chinese. “Yo sigo en la nómina, tú no insultas a mis chicos.”

Khonshu grumbled, probably because he knew Jake was right. Unlike Marc? Jake didn’t complain about the job. Didn’t keep looking into the mindspace to make sure Steven was alright when Marc fronted, or argued with Steven once Steven found out about him. But that was because Jake knew Marc had his back. That no matter what happened? Marc would be there to protect, love and care for Steven.

Jake wanted to worship Steven and Marc… but that was a different story. And he couldn’t do it unless el pendejo de Harrow was dealt with.

Sure, he knew that with cultists and evildoers, usually you cut one head and another came up. But Harrow? Harrow had shot his beloveds. His headmates.

Jake was not one to get his hands too dirty, that had usually been Marc before… well, before everything. If he was truthful to himself, and he always was, Jake had to admit that Khonshu had been good for Marc. Had given him a bit of a direction. But with Harrow, it was personal.

He is going to be transported to a different location today. If you don’t hurry…

“No puedo hacer milagros con el tráfico, Viejo,” Jake shrugged, as he usually did with a specially annoying fare. “Ese es tu terreno. ¿Quieres que llegue más rápido? Empieza a poner el semáforo en verde.”

Khonshu chuckled. It seemed that, whenever Marc complained, Khonshu became aggravated. And he really didn’t care much for Steven’s attitude. But Jake could get away with some things.  And then, the lights turned green, all the way to the sanitarium where his target was.

“Hoy por ti, mañana por mi, una solución, con devolución,” he sing-sanged with the radio.

Soon, he’d be getting Harrow all to himself, and cut the last big thread that had Khonshu’s metaphorical feathers ruffled. Then he could work on the other stuff. Now that the others knew he existed, and Layla and Steven had worked out that he still was working for Khonshu… maybe let them know that the old bird wasn’t as bad as Marc and Steven thought.

Yes, he had caught Marc at a very low point in his life, but… well, if it wasn’t for him, Marc, Steven and Jake would be gone, Layla would’ve never found out what happened to her father, and Ammut would’ve managed to get herself freed.

And Jake had the feeling that once Harrow, and by extension Ammut, was dead? Khonshu would relax a lot.

By the time they got to the Sienkiewicz Psychiatric Hospital, Jake was in an amazing mood, singing along with the radio of the limo.

“Creo que ya es tiempo de ir con el psiquiatra…” Jake hummed as he got out of the car into the parking lot. Of course, once he was out it was time to shut up and become serious. His personal soundtrack could continue in his head, but now, as Khonshu would say, it was time to focus.

I do wonder if you are not part bird yourself, Jake, Konshu mused. You are always chirping.

“Por algo nos elegiste como tus avatares, Compadrito,” Jake didn’t smile as he put on the black gloves he’d use to keep his -and Marc’s, and more importantly, Steven’s- fingerprints hidden. With more time, he’d have scouted the place earlier, gotten himself a better disguise like, say, a white coat. But with their faces so well known by the cult? Jake just was going to go in trusting that, for most people, cabbies were invisible unless you actually needed a ride.

Only two orderlies gave him any trouble, but given that he could see the scales tattoo on their forearm? Jake didn’t feel too bad about leaving them bleeding and unconscious on the floor.  They were in a hospital, as long as someone discovered them, they’d be ok.

Getting Harrow was easier, even with him speaking Spanish to a very confused nurse. She’d probably remember that, but it wouldn’t do the cult any good. The authorities would give some token attempt to find Harrow while they thought the terrorist was alive, but if they happened to find the body -something Jake thought unlikely, they’d probably give up.

Two shots. One for Marc, one for Steven.

Oh, it was personal, cabrón.

Part of Jake wanted the body to be found, just so that Marc and Steven would know they were safe. But the bigger part of him knew that with Harrow just “missing”, then the cult would take longer to reorganize. He’d probably still face them, but they wouldn’t be as dangerous without a goddess and a charismatic leader. And none could rise if they were still waiting for the dead body in the backseat.

“¿Y qué sigue?” He asked Khonshu, a little angry at his previous dig about Marc being Troubled. They weren’t troubled. They were just different. “¿Me tienes una misión nueva? ¿Otro fin del mundo?”

Nothing of the sort, Jake Lockley.  Khonshu replied. In fact, I believe you have earned some… I’d say, relaxation time. With most of the Ennead´s Avatars dead, and Marc having proven that I was not lying when I said Ammut was trying to free herself? I may find myself tied to the Gods´ chamber for a while.

“No te van a volver a encerrar, ¿Verdad?” Jake asked, a bit worried. Last time Khonshu had gotten himself trapped, Marc and Steven had died. Well, the body had died. And Jake had been unable to help.

He never wanted to feel that helpless again.

Your concern is touching, my Avatar. But no. Thanks to you all, and Taweret's avatar, I am in higher regards now. That will keep me protected, for now.

Jake was not quite convinced, but decided to let it go. He had more than enough in his hands protecting his two head mates, he was not going to worry for an ancient god who should be able to take care of himself for a couple of weeks.

You will still protect the Travelers of the Night, should they ask for your help.

“Sí, por supuesto,” Jake shrugged. That usually meant saving people from muggings, and the occasional head butting of drug dealers. Things that even Marc and Steven could appreciate.

And of course, not common enough that they would take much of his time. So he could go back to deciding if he wanted to follow Layla´s accidental suggestion, and try to communicate with the other two more.

Because he still wasn't sure he would have the courage to face them and talk to them. Especially since he knew they wouldn’t understand him.

Looking at his own reflection in the rearview mirror, he sighed as he turned on the radio. At least the music would help him clear his mind for a bit.

Tú, tú eres el imán y yo soy el metal,

Todos mis sentidos van pidiendo más…

Jake groaned, and then laughed.

Because of course, not even he could escape THAT song now.