latino_menace | OOM: Dinner

"I love you."

He drops his head to Ramon's shoulder, resting there and breathing into his skin. The room is still hot, the air conditioning still noisy, the paint still chipped and the carpet still stained, but it doesn't matter at all.

'Good.'

Ramon smiles and strokes through his hair, before kissing his head.

'Love you too.'

He stares at the ceiling, trying to work out if things are better. And comes to the conclusion that...they're much the same. Sex is a good distraction but the weight in his chest is still there, the dread of the next day hasn't gone anywhere.

A little better, maybe. Because Random's in his arms and they can touch each other and that always helps.

"Are you losing circulation?"

He shifts to try to make it more comfortable, for the moment, at least.

"Tell me if it gets bad."

Any amount of care he can give, any little thing, it's worth it. He'd do anything for him right now.

'No. It's fine.'

He's not. But even if he were, he wouldn't move him. Random lying full against him is something he'll never move away from, it's too comfortable.

'Are you alright?'

"I'm going to be."

He presses his face closer to Ramon's shoulder.

"Just keep holding me."

He does, of course. Random's not leaving his arms tonight.

'Do you have any idea how long you'll be gone?'

"As long as it takes. I'm taking drugs, and I'll spike her food too. I'm going to write you with approximate times, okay? Depends on her cycle, I guess. I don't know Rebman biology, but I'll figure it out."

It's disgusting and terrible and he hates even contemplating it. But it needs to be said.

And this sort of thing might as well be gotten out of the way now, horrible though it is.

'What sort of drugs? I thought you couldn't take any - shit Random, dont make yourself sick over this.'

And afer a moment's quiet thought, he adds,

'Don't write to me. Please.'

"Just. I don't think I'll be able to."

He curls closer.

"Have sex with her. And I need to. And I can seduce her and everything but that's not enough. I need to be able to. But I know myself and I know I'll be freaking and so panicked I can hardly breathe, so even if it isn't great, it has to happen, you know?

You don't want me to write?"
(You don't want to talk to me?)

'Yeah, I suppose so. Just...'

He pauses, trying to think of what he was going to say.

'...I was going to say just imagine it's me, but I don't know if I want that or not. Might be worse.'

He can't think about Random actually doing it. Just can't. And explaining this next thing will be hard enough.

'If you write...'

Once again, he curses his lack of eloquence.

'...it'll be like having you for a moment and then you'll be gone again. And I'll want to know what you're doing with her but I can't stand to hear it, and it'll just make it worse. Better that you go and...fuck it, I don't know. What do you think? Won't it be worse for you to be reminded of me like that every day? Don't you want to go and keep the charade up and not get distracted?'

It could be that Random'll go and he'll wish he hadn't said that, would give anything to hear from him. But maybe not. He has no idea of what it's going to feel like yet.

"I'm not touching her and thinking of you."

He feels sick just thinking about it.

"I'm not doing anything that'll put you even remotely on the same level as you."

His fingers close around Ramon's arm.

"I'm going to write you. I won't send them, maybe, but I need to write you. It at least lets me pretend I've got someone taking care of me. Lets me remember I've got someone to come home to. That no matter how bad it is I'll have someone to go home to, who cares about me."

'...pretend you've got someone taking caring of you?'

He isn't sure what to make of that, as though Random's trying to tell him that he's being uncaring by not letting him write. It gets dismissed as paranoia after a moment, but that doesn't mean it's not still in his head.

'And I love you, not just 'care' about you.'

"When I talk to you I can almost see you there. Like you're in the room with me. It's why I did so much, remember, when I was in the cell? I just pretend, you know?"

Eyes shut, now, he breathes out sadly.

"Compromise. I'll write you every time she gets her period again and say that it'll be at least another month, alright? But nothing else. Just telling you."

'...alright.'

He hates the idea of getting a note and knowing that he'll be without him for another month, but at least it'll give him some idea of when he'll be back, he supposes.

'And let me know you're alright. Just that. That you're not sick or anything, and...holding up. Or if you're not. OK?'

The rest can wait until he's back, he thinks.

"Ramon."

He winces, and looks up at him.

"I'm... not really going to be alright, you understand? I'm going to survive, but I can't write you and say I say I'm fine. I'd be lying."

'Yeah.'

So you'll write and tell me you're not fine and then I'll worry and you know what, I'm not going to be fine either only I can't write to you so alright, just tell me about all of it and then you'll come back and I'll forget about it and it'll all be OK, really, no honestly, it will, don't worry about it, I'll just pretend you're not fucking someone else and it won't matter that I have to read about how upset you are about not being with me when it was your idea to leave in the first place...

'OK. Write whatever you like then. I'll read them.'

"I'll do my very, very best."

He rolls, off, him drawing Ramon onto his side, then on top of him, wrapping legs around him.

"As quickly as possible. Kiss me? Just kiss me, please."

He's smiling by the time he finishes up on top of him and kisses him sraight away. It's almost apologetic, because of the thoughts in his head, but it's also deep and long.

'Better?'

"Yeah."

He kisses him back, tightens his legs, and gropes on the mantle for lubricant.

"I want you to make love to me."

Well then,' he says with a small laugh, as he takes the lube from him.

'I suppose it's a good job I want to as well then.'

And he does. Has to, really. It's the only thing left.

"Wonderful when plans like this come together" he mumbles, teasingly, loosening his legs so Ramon can have room.

"Serendipitous."

He loves him. Nothing else in his mind but that.

'Anyone would think we were made for each other,' he says solemnly, as he kisses Random's throat and flips the lid of the tube open.

He loves him too. It's not the only thing on his mind, but he does love him.

"Oh please."

His legs spread on the bed, and his back arches slightly.

"Please, quick, lover."

He frowns in confusion at the sudden need, but doesn't question it. He just nips at his jaw and spreads lube where it's needed, kissing him again as he does.

On a whim, he kneels between his legs suddenly, looking down at him and letting his eyes travel over Random's prone body. It's thin, as it always has been. Light skin, defined muscle. He knows every part of it, but he takes the time to look properly again. Just in case.

And when he's sure that he's seen it all, he bends to place a soft kiss on his stomach, before leaning forward, taking his weight on one locked arm and gently guiding himself inside his lover's body.

The sudden need is a return of the panic, the leaving mantra in his head. But the touch is welcome, wanted, needed and when Ramon pushes inside him he makes a glad sound.

"Come closer."

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