latino_menace: (Couple - You)

It's morning and its cold outside, but that hasn't stopped Ramon from being out of bed for the last half hour, wearing only grey sweatpants and smoking at the window. Yes, it's freezing but he just doesn't care. He has to do something while the coffee's brewing, after all, and working out how to make a nice breakfast. It'll be cereal and toast in a few minutes, because all other attempts have failed.

A tone downstairs and he knows he should move to get the coffee while it's hot. But instead he turns and watches Random sleeping, blond hair on the pillow and a face that appears peaceful, even though it still seems, to him, to be tired.

I'm so sorry.

He can never say it enough. Can't stand that he's hurt this man and that he can't seem to get through to him that...well, anything. That its not his fault, that he's not to blame. What else can he say though? Nothing, which is why he's enjoying the silence of the morning and the peace of being able to watch him now, reach down and touch his head and smooth away hair from his forehead.

It's all he allows himself before heading downstairs. Cereal and toast it is but at least the coffee's good. A trip to Martin's room with breakfast as well, and a few words that hold a promise for later in the day if he'll just stay quiet and play on his own for now. The boy does what he's told when pai speaks and so, he's heading upstairs with a tray and a thousand words that all say 'sorry'.

The tray is put down on Random's side of the bed and he takes his clothes off, skin icy cold but he can't stop himself wriggling into the side of his lover, partly for warmth but mostly for proximity, so he can wrap his arms around him and lean his head against his shoulder and wish that things could be different.
latino_menace: (Thinking)

Ramon is so glad to get out of the museum because there's only so much culture a man can take, especially when you can't draw attention by exhibiting 'inappropriate' behaviour. Dinner's booked at an upmarket resturant a couple of miles away and he's quiet for most of the ride over. Just takes Random's hand in the back of the darkened limo and watches the city go by.
latino_menace: (Shadow)

There's a city out there, waiting to be enjoyed. It will be, later. He's not the type of man that's going to let this

(misery, despair)

setback stop him getting on with life. So there'll be dinner, and dancing, and lots of alcohol, dressed up to the nines and letting


everyone see that he's not beaten. Later, that's what there'll be.

But for now, he lies in bed and smokes and lets himself think about it. It's safe, because Random's out being a good samaritan and he's alone. The room and the slum outside is a good backdrop for his mood, he thinks, as his eyes follow cracks in the ceiling and his ears listen to the sounds of pointless lives passing the time outside the window.

In times past, he'd deal with - well, not this type of emotion, because he's never felt it before - but this type of knockback, by surrounding himself with people that fear and follow him, lackeys and hangers-on, booze and prostitutes. He'd throw a party that would last for days, forcing people to be around until they all passed out and woke up with bleary eyes and hangovers they wouldn't forget. Maybe that's what he should do now, when he gets back to the bar.

But he won't. Times have changed, even if he hasn't, really. He knows people think he has, even Random does. The opinions of the majority don't bother him overly, because they'll see the truth when it suits him. It wouldn't be right though, to say that Random's opinion doesn't bother him, because it does. Part and parcel of falling for him, he thinks.

He's going, Ramon knows that. Wants him to now, just so it's done. And he can't live another five hundred years with this over him. Random's right about that. So, better that it's over with. He hates it, but won't fight it anymore.

What's bothering him now then? Well...he has no idea how long he'll be left alone. Just him and the kid, and the knowledge that Random's in a relationship, fake or not, in some other universe. And a large part of him can't help but wonder what that's going to be like, being alone again.

He knows Random will be back. And when he comes home, he'll be welcomed and loved and the whole sordid mess will be behind them. But in the meantime?

Ramon's eyes wander over the cracks in the ceiling, watching them split and collide, weaving a broken web over the dirty white paint. No answers appear. But for the first time in his life, he's starting to wish that he wasn't the type of man he is.
latino_menace: (Turn Away)

It's a little easier to breathe now and the minor things are healing up nicely. He's lowered his doseage of pills and everything seems to be going along well.

He wishes he could say the same about he and Random. There hasn't seemed to be anything overtly wrong since that last talk about it they'd had - but it's all the worse for that. Things are awkward and they never usually are. There's distance, and Random's quiet and they're not talking like they usually do.

Ramon hates it. He doesn't like feeling uncomfortable with him but he does. He has the impression that he's supposed to do or say something to make it better, but he has no idea what.

So he does what he usually does in these situations. He waits until they go to bed that night and pulls Random close, starts stroking through his hair.

'You OK, baby?'
latino_menace: (Chill)

It's been a normal day, nothing out of the ordinary. He'd done a few hours at the club this morning, then left through the bar so that time didn't run on and Trumped back to Portugal. Lunch with Random and then Random'd gone to the bar, which he doesn't do that often, these days. So Ramon hadn't objected being left to babysit. Just spent the afternoon with paperwork, ate leftovers for dinner and put Martin to bed about seven.

Now? There's a football match on TV and he's vegging in front of the game with a beer. Quite bored really and wanting Random back, but putting up with it. He's almost on the verge of dozing off actually.
latino_menace: (Shadow)
Decision to be made )
latino_menace: (...oh shit)

Ramon enters from the bar, conspicuously not holding Hel's sword in his right hand. His left arm is kept close to his body to avoid opening up the slice across his shoulder. The cold has made it stiffen but he's not too bothered about it - the conversation with Gorlim is on his mind more.

And then the one with Asandir too. All in all, it hasn't been a day for good news or easy talks with old friends.
latino_menace: (Smile - 3)

His memories of last night are fuzzy, the way they can be when you're so tired you can hardly stand up. He'd dozed off a couple of times in the bath but that's his own fault, he'd been trying to relax muscles that have been taxed to breaking point. He remembers the wincing at deep burns on the skin of his hands and parts of his neck, where the rags he'd used to cover himself had been pulled away by movement and the sun had got in. It had hurt, but not enough to stop him falling asleep the second he'd got into bed.

He'd slept for about fifteen hours, it's afternoon when he wakes up. Turning over to check the time brings a hiss of pain at the stiffness in his muscles, but he's not going back to sleep. Too hungry and there's a definite need for more to drink. So he heads for another shower because he feels like he'll never get rid of the sand and dust, then he wanders - rather haltingly due to aches - downstairs in just a pair of jeans, to search for food and hopefully find Random.

Tired though he is, he's happy. It's quite a feeling to know that there'll be no aging for another five hundred years. Everything that had happened on Earth seems to take rather a backseat to that.
latino_menace: (Sigh)

The morning had taken quite some sleeping off. But at least it was good sleep, comfortable and close. Ramon had woken up after a few hours, ravenous and dying for a coffee, so he'd come downstairs to try and put something together.

Needless to say, attempts are going badly. But he's got a door into the bar now, so if he burns this batch of toast as well, he'll be wandering through to let her provide. At the moment he's just watching the toaster and wondering where he's going wrong, while hoping Random doesn't wake up in the meantime.
latino_menace: (Reclining)

A few hours after this...

It's the middle of the night, not that Ramon's aware of it. He still sits in the chair, his neck at an awkward angle but totally oblivious.

The good thing about Atlantean, is that you're too passed out to dream. If he weren't so gone, he might have ones that he'd rather not have.

But as the night wears on, he does shift a little. He hadn't managed to ingest that much.
latino_menace: (Brothers)

Ramon watches his brother darkly as he paces around, snapping at the men and basically acting like a child. There’s only so much of this he’s willing to put up with – and forcing arguments in front of Nina Myers, Jack Bauer and a group of employees is not something he’s willing to take a lot of. Especially when they have no choice but to go through with this – and whose fault is that Hector?

Re-entrance )

OOM: Later

Jan. 11th, 2006 09:20 pm
latino_menace: (Reclining)

There's been some rest, which is a good thing. it was needed. And some pottering about, not doing much of anything.

But things are still not right. Neither is sure that they were clear earlier and that doesn't make for a relaxed atmosphere. So they're both...around the house, doing...things. And not really talking about it, both lost in trying to work things out.

Sadly, up until this point, not with each other.
latino_menace: (Default)
Ramon finds it hard to stand still a lot of the time but right now, he is. He's just staring out over the lake, smoking and waiting for Gorlim.

He doesn't owe the man any explanations. But he likes him, he's a friend, and there's no reason not to tell him the truth. Besides, a walk might help.
latino_menace: (Haven)

He hates that he's left Random sleeping alone, but he can't cope with the proximity at the moment. And much like the last few nights, he can't sleep either, there's too much going on in his head. It occurs to him that he'd like to talk to someone that might have a somewhat objective viewpoint...but that means bothering Arithon, as he's the only one that he'd trust with this stuff.

It's late though. He sits downstairs in sweatpants and T-shirt, chain-smoking and with a bottle of scotch on the table. He's not touched it yet but he wants to. God, he'd give anything to just get slaughtered right now.

And eventually, when the night's late enough to be classed as early morning, he gives in to the urge to talk. There's things he needs to tell the man anyway. He just feels like a shit for bugging him at this time of the morning, and when he's got a new wife to care for.

But he can't help himself. He reaches for Random's jacket and locates the Trump, making contact with his brother.

latino_menace: (Chill)
Ramon's back at the house, putting together a sandwich in the kitchen and waiting for the coffee to be ready. The fire's lit and he's been lounging around with a book - he's happy enough, thinking that maybe things for Random are on the up again after the conversation at the bar this afternoon.
latino_menace: (Bzuh?)
Ramon, as promised, has waited up for Random. He's in bed and reading but still very much awake.

Which is good, because when Random staggers in it looks like he needs someone to talk to. Desperately.

latino_menace: (Caith 'd 'ein)
Directly after this.

Ramon reaches blindly for his Tarot card, trying to will Random to hurry and make contact. As soon as he does he babbles out, 'RANDOM! Get me home! Need to talk to you!'
latino_menace: (Default)
A Story by Steph.

(Random shows Ramon a little about operating out of Milliways.)

The ocean breeze was a pleasant thing to feel in ones hair, especially on a day like today. The weather was brisk, then sun bright behind a layer of fog that hadn't quite dissipated along the shore line. It'd be cool, Random decided, were it not for the overlarge fleece (a burnt orange, of course) and would be lonely, if it weren't for the company. So he grinned, sliding an arm around his companion's waist, and sighed.

He more felt than heard the noise, as Random was pressed against him. He'd slid an arm around his shoulders without pausing to think (which now amused more than scared him) and the sound had been lost under the roaring of the waves. Weather at home was a lot hotter, but Random was warm so it didn't seem to matter so much. Of course, that didn't stop him from muttering profanities in a rather mangled stream of Portuguese, English and Spanish when they were forced to swerve to avoid a particularly large wave. It had made it a little farther than the others on its quest to flood the beach, before seeping, defeated, back to the water.

The Amberite just smirked, and noted - in a rather long-suffering tone, that he might have to cancel plans to go swimming later if Ramon was afraid of getting his feet wet. Upon which Ramon threatened to toss him into the ocean, fleece and all, and see how he liked walking around in wet shoes all day. Random didn't reply, just narrowed his eyes and peered down the beach.

Ramon wasn't expecting shouts that suddenly broke the silence. He'd been about to ask Random why the sudden tensing of his shoulders, when the first of the calls reached his ears. Two travelers, another pair of men, walking, no, striding, towards them. They looked like they were lost- big men, typical of Texorami, the shorter maybe 6'2, the second...perhaps...half a hand taller? Appearances typical of the region, and clearly so, so drunk. A mild annoyance crept through him, because Dammit, this was their bit of beach (not really) and should bloody stay that way.

And then, when he finally heard what they were shouting, a wave of absolute fury crawled through him.

"City meat! Look at 'em…"

"Fuck off! This's our town."

Random was watching them, an absolutely neutral expression on his face. The one Ramon had come to associate with deep shit. His first thought was that Random was actually letting this get to him. Which, in hindsight, was pretty accurate. Merely mistaking 'startled' for 'livid.' Also, his reaction of sliding an arm back around his waist and holding him a little tighter may not have been the best response, given circumstances.

"It's alright, Random. Lets just…"

He was interrupted, of course, by another shout. But this one had something to it that he didn't like. Something that set him on edge and made him whip his head around in time to see the shorter man stoop for a rock, snatch one approximately the size of his fist, straighten, and throw.

In no sane world would the rock miss them. The man was, at this point, less than twenty feet away and clearly knew what he was doing. In the space of the three seconds it took, Ramon watched the motion, wondered why the fuck it had to be late enough in the day that the man wasn't sunblind, and tried to think of what to do fuck it's going to hit him...

And two gunshots rang out.

Ramon let go a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and Random slid the weapon back into his belt. He didn't so much as blink at the muffled thud of a body hitting the sand, not at the patter of a dozen shards of stone raining down on the beach between them.

The taller man stared in shock as the blood began to flow from the single wound to his friends forehead, then stared up at the pair of them, an expression of horror crossing his face as it slowly began to register.

"Get the fuck out of here or join him."

And though Random's tone had been perfectly pleasant, the man was gone in less than thirty seconds, racing away, across the grass covered dunes and out of sight. Satisfied, Random walked forwards a few steps, took a longer stride over the fallen body, and a few more normal paces, before turning to look back over his shoulder at Ramon.

He was bent, examining the rock fragments littering the sand. He glanced up, their eyes met briefly, and he nodded a reassurance to the silent question written on Random's face. After a long moment he selected a large shard, picking it up and sliding it into his pocket as he stood, striding quickly after Random, who'd already started off down the beach.

They walked in silence until the sun was directly above them and a small town came into sight. Then it was time to clamber up the rocks that separated the sand from the earth, and onto solid ground. And finally, Random spoke:

"You know, I didn't actually have another bullet left."

But his companion merely slid an arm around his waist, and grinned.

"Would it have made a difference?"

You know me too well--

--I know you better than that.

"Come on, Random, let's grab something to eat. We'll go out- somewhere we haven't tried before. I'm feeling lucky."


latino_menace: (Default)
Ramon Salazar

September 2010

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