latino_menace | (no subject)

Talking may be a bit beyond him.

Instead, it's a graceless stagger, a trip into Ramon's lap, a soft bitter sound into the sheets, shaking shoulders, and clutching hands.

Ramon does not freak out. There's an internal flail but it's only minor as he's concentrating more on pulling Random upright on his lap and then wrapping arms round him, holding him tight and close.

'S'alright Random, it'll be OK. What happened?'

Random is more than a little drunk.

It shows.

His movements are strangely graceless, somehow stilted, and he's pulling him closer with more force than he should because he can't keep track of things or anything and just knows he wants Ramon to hold him.

Ramon does hold him. He doesn't even visibly wince at the strong arms around muscles that ache like hell because he doesn't care. He just wants to know that Random will be alright, and what happened.

'You've been drinking baby, you're worrying me. What happened? Please?'

He doesn't let go of him, even for a second.

"'s Martin."

He doesn't let go. Can't bring himself to.

"Ramon I hate it and I can't."

Of course it is.

'Hate what? Can't what? Random...please, tell me.'

Still doesn't let go. But he's scared now because last time Random showed up in this state to do with Martin, he'd been packing a bag to leave. And it hits him that maybe that is what he's doing, again, if he told the boy about Asandir's offer.

Oh Christ, please not again...

But he gives nothing away, just holds him and strokes down his back in a hopefully comforting manner.

"'s all of it."

There's a short laugh, perilously close to a sob.

"'m not a father. Not supposed to be. Can't be. Can't, Ramon. Hurt him again."

'Oh baby...'

He heaves a slight sigh of relief and lifts Random's chin lightly, pressing the softest of soft kisses to his lips.

'You are a father. Because you care. Random...'

He doesn't know how to get it across.

'...everybody fucks up with their kids. They always get hurt, just like your parents hurt you and mine hurt me. It happens. You're not perfect and no one can expect you to be. But you love him and that's a good start.'

He looks at him to see whether that got through. And then notices dark patches on his clothes. Their sheets are dark blue but when he looks at his own naked chest, there's blood smeared from Random's clothes.

'...the fuck?!' He panics immediately, pulling the man's shirt up to check for injury. 'What did he do to you?!'

"Nooo."

Listless hands push at Ramon's.

"No. I hurt him. Did to him. Gave him 'tlantean and his blood thinned and cuts started bleeding and I can't be like my father."

He sags and stops checking for wounds. Just pulls him in again.

'You're not like your father. You're not. If he wanted to get himself cut up, that's his perogative. He's an adult Random, you're not responsible for everything he does. He should have known not to drink it.'

"More than that."

There's a short laugh.

"Not enough to drive me to this, just normal things like that? Got to explain everything to him. 'bout you and Asandir and you and Arithon and everything."

He freezes.

After a moment or two, his arms drop. One still rests over Random's legs but the other falls away.

And he doesn't say anything, because snapping out, Sorry that you feel you have to fucking apologise for me...probably won't have a good effect right now, he feels.

He's too out of it to interpret body language, but he'd cry if he could.

In fact, he's starting to cry even though he doesn't. Bitter, and tired, and still holding on to Ramon like he's going to drown.

Ramon sighs and swallows the flash of anger, closes his eyes and holds him again. Rocks him gently even.

'Don't cry, it'll be alright. I'll talk to him if you like, explain it myself.'

Though no, I don't see why I should fucking have to.

"Not worth it."

He doesn't stop. Can't seem to swallow it just once more Random once more fuck you've done better than this you don't need to crumble just once more this time.

"He accepts that it's my choice. Even if torture doesn't... I mean... can't ask him to..."

Random trails off with another set of tears.

Can't ask him to like me after he knows what I did.

It's not hard to put it together. He also wants to explain that he doesn't care what Martin thinks about him but he knows that Random does, in that life will be much easier and happier if they got along. But he knows that it's never going to happen. Not unless something major happens to force it.

'Your choice. My choice. Sorry baby, but he's going to have to deal with it and you can't help him with that.'

Perhaps not the best time for honesty. But there it is.

"I know."

He stills, momentarily, and glances up, open and unguarded.

"I weep for the scars of maybe and never. Now. Fuck, I need a cigarette."

And yes, there's guilt in the back of his throat, enough to make him sick to his stomach, and yes, he's drunk enough that he can hardly keep upright but those are both pushed aside. He's also exhausted, drained, and sticky with his son's blood again.

But if there's one thing Random can do, it's accept that things can't always be alright. Tears are pushed out of his eyes, and the moment of weakness is pushed aside with shaking breaths.

Ramon lets his eyes fall closed and he looks down. For some reason, the image of Random's soul comes back to him and there's a stab of pain, wondering whether any of those fissures and cracks are getting bigger right now. And that thought is enough to make him look into his eyes - the openness floors him utterly and he buries a hand in his hair then kisses him gently.

'I don't want you to get any more scars. And you don't know what's going to happen. There's no point crying for things that may never occur baby, only madness lies that way. Cry for things that do happen, if you must - but don't worry about yourself as a father. You're a good father.'

He kisses him again, then reaches for the cigarettes, lights one and holds it out for Random to take.

"Don't let me drop this."

He's oddly lucid, it seems. Because he recognizes that his hand is shaking rapidly enough that that part will be a problem.

"Don't want to set the bed on fire."

At the same time, he's far gone enough that he considers it his prerogative to ignore whatever he should so choose.

Ramon is tired. And now, upset. He considers it up to Random to ignore whatever he wants but he's not going to keep talking if it's just going to be brushed over. So he holds him close and stares off across the room and just murmurs, 'Won't let you drop it Random.'

After what seems like a very short time to Random, but probably isn't, he offers the cigarette back to Ramon with a watery smile.

"Sorry baby. Didn't need this, I bet. Not very fair of me to promise sex and then come through all wobbly."

'Random...'

He takes the cigarette back and then kisses him.

'...sex doesn't matter. You do. Be as wobbly as you like, I'll still be here.'

"Sorry for not listening, then."

He pulls himself up, settling against Ramon. Yes, he's still wearing boots. No, he can't bring himself to care.

"For all of it."

Ramon just holds him tight, not caring a damn about boots either.

'You don't need to apologise to me baby, it's alright.' A hand strokes through his hair, hopefully in a relaxing way. 'Feeling better? Tell me what I can do to help, I'll do it.'

"I like apologizing to you."

There's a half amused drunken grab for the kleenex box on the dresser.

"I know you'll forgive me. Christ, I don't deserve you, you know that?"

He idly wonders if there's anything Random could do that would mean he couldn't forgive. He can't think of anything.

And there's a small laugh and a kiss pressed to his temple, then he says quietly, 'No, I think you deserve better than me. I'd have sent a human grey by now.'

He's buried the annoyance, to a large degree. Random doesn't need to deal with it right now.

He's too drunk to deal with that right now.

Wiping his face quickly with the kleenex, and curling up, partially to be closer to Ramon, partially to fumble with his boots.

"But you don't. 'm gonna apologize 'gain in the morning. Don't need my shit. Don't need it."

Ramon reaches forward and gently pulls his hands away from the laces, then starts undoing them himself.

'Let me. And Random - you've taken more shit off me than anyone should ever have to. And...fuck!'

He abandons the boots for a moment and takes his face gently between his hands. 'Listen to me. We're together, right? So it's our shit. I love you, stop worrying over whether you're laying stuff on me, alright?'

He kisses him lightly, then releases him and goes back to pulling his boots off him.

He raises one foot with a rather sickeningly tipsy giggle. There's very little actual amusement in it.

"We're good a' putting eachother back together. 's because I love you so much. 'n you love me. So glad I saw that, baby, so glad."

'I'm glad too. Wanted to let you see so you'd never doubt.'

It takes a few minutes but the boots come off, then he starts on the clothes. 'Come on. Get these off and then drink some water and sleep. You'll feel better in the morning.'

"No."

And he's even right.

"No, things are going to be very bad for a little bit."

It's said with the conviction of a drunk. And, you know, a Tarot Reader.

"You might hate me, a little. It scares me, baby."

Ramon halts in his unfastening of the buttons on his shirt. 'Christ, will you listen to me? I Will. Not. Hate. You. Ever. Period. OK?'

He shakes his head and goes back to work on the shirt.

"Then I'll hate myself?"

Another drunken laugh, and his hands reach for Ramon, possibly fouling the ones working on his shirt, but it doesn't matter.

"God, hold me. 'm being ridiculous. Having a fucking anxiety attack."

He sighs and pulls the shirt off him then takes him in his arms, lying down and pulling him to his chest.

'Don't have an anxiety attack. I'm here. I don't hate you and never will and I don't want you hating yourself either.'

"I love you."

He smiles up at him, then lets his head drop.

"That'll do. Martin and I need to stop getting drunk. Never leads to good things."

'You do.' Ramon kisses his head and rubs a hand over his back. 'So, you want to tell me about it? Properly I mean. Or just sleep?'

"Properly. Um."

He thinks, for a long moment.

"Had to explain to him 'bout Asandir. Figured it was as good a time as any to tell him all of it. He's so much a doctor he reacted so terribly. Said he won'come for dinner any more ever, and that he doesn't want to speak to you. He was pretty dazed. Drunk as anything. And then he was bleeding everywhere an' I had to call for Svava."

By the end of it his face is burried in Ramon's chest.

He strokes through his hair carefully as he listens and by the end of it is ready to slap the fucking kid. I don't care what he thinks about me. The only reason I tolerate his shit is because I don't want to upset you.

But he keeps quiet and just says, 'I'll go and talk to him and sort it out. I don't want you upset about it. I can explain better, if that's what you want him to know.'

"Don't, love."

He holds on, for a moment.

"Please, in the morning. I need to sleep or 'm gonna... well, no. 'm already gonna be hungover as fuck."

'Yeah, you are.' He doesn't really sound amused as he says it but it is a weak attempt at teasing. He doesn't understand any of this and certainly not that Random feels the need to justify his actions to Martin. But then, maybe there was a reason that hasn't come out yet - but this isn't the time to attempt to get it out of him.

He moves and pulls Random's jeans off him, then covers them both over with the quilt. 'Sleep then, we'll talk about this tomorrow.'

"Ever tried to fix something broken from the very beginning?"

His eyes are closing, and he's pulling Ramon closer.

"What Gorlim said about me. Something crooked in the foundations. Building up layers of slight tilts to make it look straighter but it doesn't work."

He pulls his head back to stare down at him.

'Gorlim said what to you?' His eyes narrow in anger. 'That's the stupidest, most ridiculous thing I ever heard in my life.' And I'm going to make sure he knows it too. 'You are not broken. You're not crooked in the foundations or any shit like that, you understand? And Christ, that coming from Gorlim?! He's more fucked up than anyone.'

"Well, no."

He's too tired for this.

"I said t'about something else, 'n he said 'like you.' What I meant was this with Martin. 'm not crooked. Just a perfectly normal Amberite."

He calms down a little and pulls him close again.

'Alright then. Sleep baby, you need it. I love you.'

"You too. Careful, though. The tooth's in jeans pockets, an' don't want it to fall out." yawn "Remind me in the morning?"

And he is, for all intents and purposes, out cold.

Ramon smiles quietly into the darkness, the annoyance all but forgotten. Because Random's carrying the tooth and...yeah.

He cuddles him closer and settles down to sleep. Because in the end, the other shit doesn't matter to him. He's got Random, so it'll all work out.