He's getting ready for the usual Faraday attitude, but it seems to melt away when Vasquez touches his leg, so thank God for small miracles. He hasn't gotten an answer back about the other town, but he's already facing his horse in that direction, like he's going to start riding with or without Faraday (as if he wouldn't turn around and join him if he didn't get his agreement to come with).
"I said," he starts, patient and calm, keeping his expression neutral, "that if we had a bed, then maybe you could fuck me." There, English, helpful, and easy for Faraday to understand.
He cocks his brow upwards, almost a challenge. "Should I repeat myself again? Maybe if I do, you'll start learning Spanish a little faster, guero," he can't help his little poke, seeing as he's stopped being so teasing and is starting to actually mean it when he tries to get Faraday to learn how to speak his language.
Easing back in the saddle, he plucks his cigarette from the brim of his hat, finds the matches in his saddlebag. "Don't make me beg," he mumbles around the cigarette, even though he will, because he wants the good night's sleep as much as he wants the other things.
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"I said," he starts, patient and calm, keeping his expression neutral, "that if we had a bed, then maybe you could fuck me." There, English, helpful, and easy for Faraday to understand.
He cocks his brow upwards, almost a challenge. "Should I repeat myself again? Maybe if I do, you'll start learning Spanish a little faster, guero," he can't help his little poke, seeing as he's stopped being so teasing and is starting to actually mean it when he tries to get Faraday to learn how to speak his language.
Easing back in the saddle, he plucks his cigarette from the brim of his hat, finds the matches in his saddlebag. "Don't make me beg," he mumbles around the cigarette, even though he will, because he wants the good night's sleep as much as he wants the other things.