Vasquez manages to lay a look on Faraday that implies that he's not very funny, if he ever thought to convince Vasquez that he was. Shifting a little to catch Faraday when his leg buckles, he gets one hand on his back, the other around his hip to prevent him from falling. Of course, the minute he gets closed, it gets all too clear that this was never about falling.
"I keep my promises, cabron," he guarantees. There are no sweet endearments here, solely the low, growled promise of a man who intends to enjoy himself. The squeeze to his neck does wonders to calm him and he feels the fight bleed from him a little.
"Cigarettes and food it is," he agrees, trying to temper his accent, as if they can't already see him for the Mexican he is by looks alone. He still tries to duck his head every time a passer-by stares too long, and he really doesn't like the whispers, because they could mean anything.
Why can't he just enjoy a comfortable bed and this man beside him? Why is this so much to ask after all the good they've done?
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Date: 2018-06-12 03:38 am (UTC)"I keep my promises, cabron," he guarantees. There are no sweet endearments here, solely the low, growled promise of a man who intends to enjoy himself. The squeeze to his neck does wonders to calm him and he feels the fight bleed from him a little.
"Cigarettes and food it is," he agrees, trying to temper his accent, as if they can't already see him for the Mexican he is by looks alone. He still tries to duck his head every time a passer-by stares too long, and he really doesn't like the whispers, because they could mean anything.
Why can't he just enjoy a comfortable bed and this man beside him? Why is this so much to ask after all the good they've done?