Ramon Salazar (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
latino_menace) wrote2006-05-31 06:05 pm
latino_menace) wrote2006-05-31 06:05 pm
OOM: Awake
It's one of what my people refer to as the Unforgiveable Curses. The Cruciatus. No injuries, no wounds, just pain.
She was right. That's all it gave him, just pain. And for that, he's grateful. Pain can be dealt with, and forgotten - especially by someone like him. Someone who doesn't dwell on things like that because they'll never be afraid of physical abuse. He's taken a lot of hits in his life but as long as he gives more in return, he's OK with it. It's part of who he is. And he likes who he is. The Cruciatus curse isn't why he's awake right now.
Imperio! Now, just tell me who Random is and tell Mr. Bauer what you did to his granddaughter, and it will be over.
He doesn't know what the hell Imperio means, she hadn't explained it. He's going to find out, but that's not the point. He'd resisted most of it. Said enough, but not everything. So Bauer knew he'd taken Angela - big deal. He'd known that when it had happened, pretty much. And Ramon will take a beating over cell time any day of the week.
How long do you think you could last against that compulsion if I put it on you again and left it?
He'd resisted as much as he could. Told her Random's name, though she could have found that out from anyone. That's not the point. Sort of confessed to what he'd done to Angela - said enough anyway. But he hadn't talked about Random; and in the end, it didn't matter. Because she knew about him and
Even kill people they love...
she'd threatened him and this is the first time that anything he's done could actually lose him his lover. Even after the thing with Arithon, no one had had anything against Random apart from questioning his choice in partners. But this
If you ever even look at my family again in a manner that displeases me, your Random won't know what hit him. And it might not even be you. After all, I have a whole bar full of people to choose from.
is something else, and he can't bear the thought that Random might no longer be safe. Because how can either of them look out for any random stranger in a bar that might want to kill him? It's impossible.
And this is why Ramon is downstairs tonight, lying on the sofa in darkness and not wanting to go to bed. Because he hasn't told Random yet and doesn't even know where to begin.
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He shakes his head, gently.
"I don't die so easy. But I'd like it very much if you'd take care of it in the mean time."
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'And I'd prefer that it was me. We're not going to agree on this, I suppose - just be careful. And I'll be careful and then hopefully we'll actually make it a few more years together, OK?'
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He sighs, happily, because it's nice to be loved.
"I'm old fashioned, I'd do poetry if you like?"
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'I don't appreciate poetry all that much I'm afraid. You married a cultural neanderthal. We'll have to think of something else.'
He pauses and then says quietly,
'I would take a bullet for you.'
Because he loves him. Also because he wouldn't want to be the one left behind, but he doesn't think on that enough to articulate. It's just a gut instinct, knowing that he couldn't bear to be without Random now.
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Whereas knowing he will be left without Ramon is something he wrestles with and occasionally has the most horrifying of vivid nightmares about, it's a truth Random hopes he'll come to terms with one day. Only it's harder and harder to imagine, every minute they spend together.
"And then bitch and make you bring me soup and chocolate in bed."
His tone has a bit of forced levity to it.
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'What would you do, ring a bell for me to come and wait on you? You'd drive me crazy. Not that you don't anyway.'
He pretends to think on that.
'Although mostly in different ways, I have to admit.'
Knowing that Random will be left behind - well, he's thought about it before. Which is why he does his best not to think about it now, because it's an unbearable thought.
The fingers at his ear trace down his jaw and come to rest near his chin, tapping lightly.
'You OK?'
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A noncommital sound, because the future is preying heavily upon his imagineation right now, so he tucks himself closer to Ramon to make it alright again.
"You were just as bad when I popped your cherry."
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'What's the matter?'
And there's a gentle poke to his side.
'Just as bad as what? Bastard. You're not going to let me forget that, are you?'
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He kisses the nearest bit of him.
"Don't squirm, Ramon, and stop poking, I'm trying to relax on you. You're a terrible mattress.
And no. You're not going to forget that. Ever. Ever."
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'I hurt too much to squirm so stop exaggerating - and you've never complained about relaxing on me before. Of course, we'd probably be more comfortable if we just went to bed.'
He doesn't move though, because he's comfortable, even if Random isn't. He says quietly,
'Don't think about tomorrow - any of them. Not iportant at the moment.'
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He closes his eyes, and rests gingerly against him.
"If you are. Poke me when you start getting stiff, alright? But I want a rest, and I think you should too."
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And it really is. He pulls a couple of painkillers from his pocket and dry swallows them but even without them, he's comfortable. Ease of mind is far more important than physical ease, after all.
There's a last stroke through the hair, and then he closes his eyes, happy to drop off here.
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Even if he looses circulation sometimes.