Coco: One shots, Preferences, and Scenarios ((Requests Closed!!)

O/S: Train to Destiny (Platonic Hector x Ernesto)

Hey, I'm baaackk! I've been working on A LOT of stuff! Including the first chapter of the story of Hector's life! I'll post that as soon as it's done! But for now, have a cute little story about the beginning of Hector and Ernesto's touring days!

The idea for this came from just...I thought the background of both of these above photos seemed...very similar to me... I thought maybe they were taken at the same place at around the same time...Thus this story was born! Enjoy!

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"Vamos, idiota! We're gonna miss the train!" Hector hollered, not bothering to turn his head to address the man behind him. Instead, he kept his gaze focused intensely on the station just a couple meters away. The way the man's guitar case was slung over his shoulder and the suitcase in his hand just grazing the ground, a tattered corner of the case occasionally knocking into a rock on the ground, one would think he was on his way to the most important gig of his life. But he wasn't. He was just on his way to a grimy hotel somewhere in the middle of nowhere. As he and his friend were struggling musicians, they took gigs wherever they could get them. But he would be damned if he was gonna miss check in at this hotel and be made to look like a fool.

When he finally arrived at the station's check in, he plopped his suitcase and guitar case on the tiled floor and hunched over to catch his breath.Once he was able to breathe normally again, he straightened up and looked around the station. It was a large, open building with gaping archways surrounding the outer perimeter. It was rather pretty, he supposed. Then he remembered he wasn't supposed to be alone.

He spun around and caught a glimpse of his friend, usually perfectly quaffed hair slightly askew by the sweat dripping down his forehead. He was panting exaggeratedly, tongue hanging out. Hector couldn't help but laugh aloud. The usually proud looking Ernesto de la Cruz looked so pathetic when he, Dios forbid, had to carry his own belongings. When Ernesto joined by his friend's side, he clasped onto the slightly taller man's shoulder and fanned himself with his large hand.

"Ay, Hector, mi amigo...Quierdo Dios...I thought we'd never get here...," Hector shook his head and looked to the itinerary he had hastily written down the night before. They made the train okay, with actually some time to spare.

"You're lucky. With your slow ass having such a problem carrying your suitcase, I thought we'd miss this train for sure! I would've had to kill ya!" Hector exclaimed in a pseudo-agitated tone, shaking a fist in Ernesto's face. Ernesto batted the fist away with a scoff.

"Don't you even think of blaming me," He retorted with a huff, "If you hadn't taken so long to say goodbye to your family, we would've been here a long time ago!" Hector looked down a bit, a slight solemn look briefly overtaking his face. His friend had a point. It had been harder than even he thought it was going to be. He recalled just staring into his wife's eyes, caressing her cheek, wiping away stray tears that she tried so desperately to hide. His mind's eye visioned his daughter, his beautiful daughter, hugging his legs tightly. Then she had looked up to him, beaming her perfect smile. Hector felt his eyes welling up slightly. Dios, he was going to miss them. But he quickly shook himself back. He was doing this for them, too! He was going to get famous with Ernesto, playing his music, playing for the world, all while earning a good living for his family! It was perfect! He looked over to Ernesto and playfully punched his arm.

"Yeah, yeah! We'll you'd understand if you had a wife and child, too." Ernesto shook his head hard, affirming the motion with an audible groan.

"Amigo, come on! Look at this cara! This is for all the ladies of the world! I wouldn't dare not share! That would just be rude!" With that, Ernesto pulled a comb out of the pocket of his white Charro suit and fixed his hair. He then returned the comb to the pocket ,straightened the coat out, and ran his hands quickly over the crisp, matching white pants. Hector shook his head in amused disbelief. Why this burro wore a heavy, hot Charro suit to the station that day was beyond him. It was a typical Spring day in Santa Cecilia, there was a slight breeze, but when that breeze was absent, it was quite hot. Hector himself had just worn a light green sweater with a thin beige button up shirt underneath with a plain pair of dark brown trousers. Oh well. At least he'd be comfortable.