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halfwaythereroyalwrites · 4 years

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Mahal Kita (Javier Peña x Filipina!Reader) - Kilig

GIF Credit: I don’t know, but it’s not mine. Let me know if you know who made it.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Filipina!Reader

Warnings: This can be read alone or as part of Javier Peña’s Kilig series. Slight gun violence. Cursing.

Word count: 2.4k+

Summary: A close encounter makes you and Javier think about your relationship.

A/N: I loved writing the first part so much that I wrote a sequel. You don’t have to read the first one to get this, but I’d appreciate it if you did.

Part 1 + Masterlist

Kilig is a Tagalog word to describe the feeling of excitement and exhilaration and possibly embarrassment from anything remotely romantic.

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An unusual sight met you when you walked to your desk this morning. Scraps of paper were taped to the objects sitting on your desk. All of them bearing familiar scribbled writing.

El escritorio.

La máquina de escribir.

Las plumas.

El periódico.

Los papeles.

El teléfono.

“Good morning!” Steve refreshed voice greeted. He and Javier strode their way to your conjoined desks, holding breakfast from the morning meeting you opted out of. Steve was holding an extra donut wrapper in a thin white paper. Javi was holding two steaming cups of coffee. “For you,” Steve offered the donut which you gladly accepted with a thank you.

Javi handed the second cup of coffee to you, “Tu café.”

“Gracias, Javi,” you lifted the cup in thanks. The three of you took a seat at your respective desks. You took a sip of the coffee Javi made. Two sugars and creamer, you thought. He remembered. You glanced up to meet his knowing eyes, and he gave you a sly grin before scanning the document in front of him.

“What’s with all this?” Steve asked, snatching the taped note on your telephone.

“Spanish lessons. Courtesy of Peña,” you answered through a mouthful of donut.

“How come you never offer to teach me Spanish, Javi?” Steve turned to his male partner accusingly.

“You’re not nearly as pretty as her, Murphy,” Javier answered, looking up from his paperwork. His words made you slightly choke on your donut. You took a sip of your coffee to wash down the clump that threaten to lodge itself into your throat.

“Oh I’m not enough for you?” Steve jokingly retorted, making you nearly spit out your coffee. You set down your coffee and opened your top drawer to look for the napkins you kept there. To your surprise, you found another note, this time folded, on top of your napkins. The note read, “Buenos días, querida.” You stuffed the note to the back of your drawer before pulling out a napkin and wiping your mouth of the sticky sugar leftover from the donut. Javier and Steve had stopped joking with each other, each occupied with their respective tasks. You locked eyes with Javi and raised an eyebrow, a small smirk on your face. Javi responded by winking at you, making you press your lips together, suppressing a grin from forming. The shrill ring from your phone broke your focus on Javi who returned his attention to his work.

“Meeting with the boss, boys,” you sighed as you hung up the phone. “Let’s go.” The simultaneous scrape of their chairs at your words started to burst the bubble of mirth from moments before, tugging you back to reality. Steve walked ahead of you and Javi, but Javi stayed behind, waiting for you to walk ahead of him. You thanked him with a nod of your head. His hand subtly rested on the small of your back as you passed him, burning an imprint on your skin and heightening your awareness of his presence. Did he buy a new shirt? You could’ve sworn he didn’t have this shirt before, but ever since you mentioned blue being one of your favorite colors, he seemed to add more blue in his rotation. Javi waited for you to enter the conference room first to which you replied, “Salamat.”

“De nada,’ Javi replied. This became a habit between the two of you as your relationship progressed. Javi would speak in Spanish, and you would respond in Tagalog. The two of you would then translate your sentences together, taking note of words you didn’t understand. You didn’t take notice of how often the two of you did this, until Steve once commented that he, out of all people, should definitely be the one learning Spanish. You had laughed at his comment that day, and Javi agreed to interpret for the two of you when out in the field. Still, this back-and-forth was special between the two of you. Something so endearing which stemmed from Javi seeking to comfort you from the pitfalls of an assignment abroad. Spanish and Tagalog lessons frequently happened over dinner.

Well, dinner was a loose term for it. In reality, it was one of you coming in to the other’s respective apartments across the hall. From there, the two of you would, eat, laugh, talk, drink…amongst other things. More often than not, the visitor would end up sleeping over, and they would have to sneak out of the apartment to return home, trying to avoid Steve or Connie. Like you said, this, whatever this is, was between the two of you. No one else. You’d never tell Javi this, but you did find a paper list in his apartment once. On it were Tagalog words you had taught him earlier, some spelled phonetically rather than correctly, although admittedly the spelling was close.

Halik - Beso

Maganda - Bonita, Hermosa

Sinta - Querida

Pag-ibig - Amor

And then the four words that made your eyes widen. The four words that were emboldened by his repeated tracing over the letters as if carefully carving it into his memory for fear of forgetting. The four words that made a strong heat grow in your chest, creep up your neck, and settle in your cheeks. The four words rushed blood to your ears, amplifying the elevated beating of your heart.

Mahal kita - Te amo

I love you.

He had asked how to say “I love you” after dinner some nights ago. The question was casual, and he had worked it into the conversation so skillfully that you hadn’t given it a second thought until you found his list. You mouthed the words carefully and repeatedly. Te amo. Te amo. Te amo. Te amo. Javi’s voice had called for you from the living room, and you quickly hid the list before going out to join him on the couch.

That was a week ago, and since finding that list, you had practiced the words over and over again in the mirror. Anticipation had settled into your bones. A weight had lifted itself off your shoulders, bringing a new spring to your step and a new outlook on life, even one as bleak and as challenging as the one you chose to lead. Plainly speaking, it didn’t take long for you to know. You loved him too.

The meeting droned on and on. The voices of the men around you soon warped into a garbled mess, undistinguished and tiresome. The tediousness of the meeting was made apparent by everyone springing out of the room, and your mind was still foggy until Javi’s voice broke your daze. “Dinner at my place?” Javi mumbled low enough for only you to hear.

“Sure, same time?” you whispered.

“Yep,” he answered. The two of you walked back to your desks where Steve was talking to someone on the phone, scribbling something on a scrap of paper. He hung up and turned to you and Javi, scrunches his brows at how close the two of you were walking. Both of you took notice of his watchful eye and promptly parted, with you picking at random objects at your desk.

“Uh,” Steve cleared his throat before announcing, “That was Carrillo. He wants to meet with us for a debrief.”

“Okay,” you and Javi said simultaneously. This made the two of you glance at each other before looking at Steve, whose gaze flickered between the two of you. He sighed and shook his head before saying,

“I’ll drive.” You swatted Javi’s arm on the way out to Steve’s car to which he chuckled, clutching his arm in feigned pain. Carrillo was all business, as usual. He went down his methodical list of questions about any information the DEA had on Escobar to which the three of you provided. Carrillo had brought out a map marked with the latest rumored drop-off sites in nearby neighborhoods, all circled in bold, red ink. He handed Steve a marker to mark confirmed sites. Javi, ever the gentleman, offered you a glass of water when he noticed you fanning yourself with a manila folder.

“Agua?” Javi offered.

“Salamat. This is tubig,” you explained.

“What’s too big?” he asked confusedly.

You laughed at his misunderstanding. “No, water is called tubig.”

“Ohhh, I got it,” Javi nodded in understanding. You continued giggling, and Javi smiled at your amusement. It wasn’t until you turned to meet Steve and Carrillo’s ever-observant stares that the two of you immediately dropped your amused expressions and put on your game faces, pointedly avoiding each other’s gaze as if scolded by your schoolteacher for being caught.

“I think we should go to this one here today,” Carrillo pointed out on the map. “See what people know.”

“I agree,” Steve said. “Let’s head out.” Carrillo gestured with his arm for you to go first, and you obliged, walking in pace with Steve. Then, you heard the loud, unmistakable sound of a smack, and you turned around to be met with the sight of Javi rubbing the back of his head and Carrillo’s smug smirk. The trip to the discussed barrio was a short one, and it was quite the spectacle with five squad cars and Steve’s car wedged into the middle of the squadron. The humid heat coupled with the fact people were being secretive and protecting Escobar fanned the flames of your frustration. You understood why, but this made your job a whole lot harder. You were talking to an older woman sitting outside her home when you heard a thud on the roof behind you. A lower-ranking sicario made eye contact with you before darting the opposite direction.

“Suspect headed eastbound. In pursuit. Need backup. Over.” You sprinted toward the sicario’s direction, staying on the ground while a couple uniformed police officers chased him on the roofs. You cut through an alley to hopefully cut the sicario off. Turns out, Javi had the same idea because he turned the corner at the same time. Both of you nodded at each other, and Javi took the lead. Up ahead, you saw a man gesturing wildly to someone on the roof to come to the running car. You looked up in time to the sicario jump across roofs and shimmy down to the ground. Javi and you ran to the end of the alley, and Javi turned the corner to pursue the car. You’re not sure what came over you. Call it instinct. Or maybe sheer luck. You grasped Javi’s elbow and tugged him back with all your might to the cover of the alley and flush against your body. Gunshots rang out and whizzed past the two of you, pinging at nearby cars and windows. Javi hugged you close to him and acted as a human shield. Screeching of tires flooded your ears as the sicario’s car revved away from the barrio.

Javi pulled away and held your face in his hands, looking you over for any injuries. “Are you ok, querida? Did you get hurt?!”

“I’m ok. I’m ok,” You swallowed down the tight knot forming in the back of your throat and croaked out, “Are you?” Javi nodded before planting a kiss on your forehead and crushing you against him. You squeezed your arms around his torso reveling in the feeling of his body against yours. The two of you didn’t let go until you heard Carrillo’s voice through your walkie-talkie, asking for one of you to confirm your location. Javi reached for his talkie and confirmed both of you were safe and would be headed back. The two of you locked eyes with each other, chests heaving, and before you could move, Javi crushed you against his chest again, clutching a tuft of your hair and muttering Spanish under his breath. He was speaking too fast for you to even pick up a word, but you were happy to just hear the beat of his pounding heart.

“We should go,” you begrudgingly muttered. “Steve is gonna come looking for us.” Javi planted one last kiss on your forehead, and your eyes fluttered close at the feel of his soft lips against your skin. He’s here, you thought. He’s here, and he’s safe. The rest of the day passed by without much fanfare. Steve and Carrillo were met with nods when they asked if you and Javi were ok. You were the only one who was able to provide verbal details. Javi remained silent. After debriefing with Carrillo, the car ride back to work passed in silence. The end of the day came quickly enough, and it wasn’t until you shut your apartment door shut that the events of the day came rushing back to you.

You had almost lost Javier today. He was almost shot, and you almost lost him. There were no tears as you expected. No sobs wracking your body. Just a deep and heavy realization. You tossed your keys and purse on to the table and wrenched open the door only to be met with Javier — fist raised about to knock on your door.

“Fuck, Javi!” You clutched your heaving chest in surprise. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Mahal kita!” Javi proclaimed.

“…what?!”

“Mahal kita. I was waiting until tonight to say it, but after today, I can’t wait. I could’ve died. I could’ve died and never told you and…

“Te amo,” you cut in. “Te amo mucho.” Tears were now falling down your cheeks. Javier broke out in a big smile which you mirrored. He let out a breath he had been holding before taking your face in his hands and kissing you. The kiss easily deepened. Your mouths locked in a desperate dance to prove over and over again that this was real. You were here. He was here, and the two of you loved each other. Javi broke the kiss to pepper small kisses on your forehead, cheeks, chin, jaw, and neck — eliciting small giggles out of you.

“Hey guys…” Steve’s voice chimed in, making Javi and you jump away from each other. Steve and Connie were holding a case of beer and a tray of brownies, their wide-eyed stares focused on you and Javi.

“I knew it!” Connie exclaimed. She bumped her elbow against Steve’s arm. “I told you they were dating.” You broke out in a relieved laugh at Connie’s words, letting your shoulders drop.

Steve came and placed his arms around Javi and you and led all of you inside your open apartment. “You two have a lot of explaining to do.”

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Translations that weren’t explained:

El escritorio - the desk

La máquina de escribir - the typewriter

Las plumas - the pens

El periódico - the newspaper

Los papeles - the papers

El teléfono - the telephone

Buenos días, querida - Good morning, dear/desired one

Part 1 + Masterlist

A/N: Let me know what you think and/or if you would like to be added to my taglists!