sixthiterationlogs | howling in the hills

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howling in the hills

WHO: Vasquez
WHERE: The Woods
WHEN: November 27 - December 2
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Animal Transformation

What Great Fur You Have

After he'd healed from his illness, Vasquez probably should have been more thankful for his good health.

Instead, he's quickly remembered all the secrets about himself that he had given up. He remembered confessing about his fears, showing his weakness, and worse, he thinks he remembers telling Faraday things that he'd vowed to keep inside. For sure, he shouldn't have told him how Rose Creek had ended, because thinking about that gory conclusion wasn't good for anyone. When he'd healed, he'd marched himself down to that bunker where it had a machine for powers and he did what any cowardly man who never took responsibility for anything or anyone would do.

He turned himself into a wolf and went out into the wilderness, knowing that so long as he was an animal, he wouldn't have to talk about any feelings.

Unfortunately, it also means that you don't get to eat so easy and raw venison is not something Vasquez likes, which is why there's a wolf sitting outside of a house, making whining sounds and pawing at the window, pleading for whatever food is inside. He's not eating raw meat, not unless he absolutely has to, and he didn't even do that when he'd been half-starving in a dead man's cabin.

Human Skin

Eventually, he knows that this transformation won't last forever. When he'd gone to the machine, it had said a week, and counting the days, Vasquez knows that his time is quickly coming up. Of course, he didn't exactly plan it completely, because when the week is up, he's nowhere near the clothes he'd hidden, which leaves him standing near the outskirts of the south village (more in it than out), hands over his personal area, cheeks flush with red.

This is definitely not how he had intended to end this, and he knows that getting all the way back to the house isn't an option. Even stealing something isn't such a good idea, because he doesn't want to burst into anyone's house like this.

They might get the wrong idea.

So, it looks like a kind gesture is all that's going to save Vasquez, and a little humiliation until then. "Morning," he greets the nearest person with a smile, fucking freezing. "Maybe, I don't know, you have a jacket you can give me? I think it would be best for everyone if I could get some clothes."

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When Faraday puts it like that, Vasquez quickly understands how desperate he'd been to avoid this conversation, because when you say it like that, it really does sound like he went to a lot of trouble just to avoid this. Only, here he is now, naked and in Faraday's bed, so he only put it off for a week.

Making a sour face, he shrugs, not sure what he can say here. "I said a lot of things when I had that fever, I wasn't so sure how you would react." So it was simpler to not be around.

"I had a fever," he agrees, bluntly. "I didn't tell you a single lie."

And it's weird and upsetting to try and have this talk that is serious and difficult, and there's Vasquez looking beautiful and rumpled and making Faraday question everything he's ever thought he knew about himself.

Trying to focus on Vasquez's face, not that it's much easier that way, because he's still beautiful and he's looking so hurt that Joshua finds it hard to focus.

"Do you remember everything you said? Some of it you didn't seem all... there? Okay? I don't know. I believe you didn't lie, but do you remember everything?" Wondering if he should give him an out, a way of pretending he didn't say some of it. Not for his own sake, but offering that to Vasquez as if it's cheating to be told all of that because he was sick.

"I will ask about it. All of it eventually. If you remember. Alejandro," he murmurs, saying his name softly, not sure if he's allowed to even say it now that he's healthy.

Vasquez's attention is key and focused on Faraday, eyes widening with just the slightest bit of pleasure when he hears Faraday say his name like that. The chill it sends through him is almost impossible to ignore, making him breathe slowly and stare at him.

"It's got gaps," he admits, not wanting to say that he remembers it all. "I remember telling you about the battle, and I think I told you some things about what I want," he confesses, or at least he'd hinted very close to them.

"I remember telling you my name," he guarantees. "Go on," he insists. "Look away, and I'll get out of your bed and find clothes."

Gaps. Well shit. He wants to ask, to talk to him about this, and what he really meant and now he's facing the knowledge he could be putting him on the spot. Fuck.

He winces though at the comment about him looking, ducking his head and looking to the side then. Both embarrassed because he's not sure what to think of that, and not sure it's really what Vasquez wants, and not having a damn clue how to handle any of this.

"I still don't get how I died and I'm here. I don't understand it. But..." he says, holding up a hand, again not looking because he got called out on it. "I believe you. I believe it happened. I just... Kinda sucks knowing when this place gets done with me I'm gonna die."

And his voice softens then, knowing maybe that sounds stupid since it's already happened, but it's something he's been thinking about since Vasquez took off to play prairie pup or whatever.

Vasquez pries himself out of bed and lopes to where he can find the nearest piece of clothing, opting for the scrubs top of Faraday's that he can pry (since Faraday wears his linen shirt now), and tugs it on, along with his own pair of jeans from the harvest party from the other room.

When he returns, he's scratching at his hair (tangled and wild, still with sticks in it), staring at Faraday as he leans his whole body against the doorway. It hurts so badly to think that if Faraday goes, he dies, because it's something he's thought of since he arrived.

"Lots of people did. Some people think we're copies," he says. "Some think it's afterlife. I don't care," he says bluntly, "because you're here. That's all I want."

He paces a bit, looking out the window and then to the bed and back as he tries to sort this all out in his head. Glancing up as Vasquez returns, not finding it any easier not to stare at him even dressed. Not after the things he said, the connection he felt there was during that time he was sick.

"So those things you said, you meant that?" They were still establishing what he remembered saying and what it meant. "About what you think about me?"

He needs to know. Needs to hear it when a fever isn't involved and he isn't sure if Vasquez knows he's really talking to him.

Vasquez doesn't do anything stupid like push off the door, but he does light a cigarette to give his mouth something to do, not to mention his hands and even his eyes. He can watch the smoke curl from the cigarette instead of having to meet Faraday's eyes.

At least, until he's ready. He shrugs, but then remembers he shouldn't pretend that this is so easy.

"I meant everything," he agrees, because there might be some gaps, but he knows what he feels. "You really think that I tell everyone my first name? Guerito, no, that's for people who mean a lot to me."

"Never talked to no one that sick before," he admits. "Except one fellow got snake bit, but he didn't make it," he points out, and to him that says a lot. "And I ain't assuming anything you said while that sick. Not fair to you to hold you to any of that," he says, at least trying to be decent in this. If only because he means something to him as well. He just has absolutely no idea how to show it.

"Not sure I get why. I mean, not like you're hurting for companionship in this place or nothing," he says, rubbing the back of his neck, sighing softly. "But I thought we would keep riding together," he admits, not knowing how to do this, but definitely knowing the truth. "After Rose Creek. Even if Billy and Goodnight went on their way, and Sam went back to bounties with his new friend, and our family bear headed back for the mountains... I had thought to ask you if you wanted to keep riding together."

Which means something to him! He's never done that before. With anyone.

Vasquez wants Faraday to hold plenty against him, but doesn't say that. He just adjusts the too large collar of Faraday's scrubs, enjoying how they feel on his skin and how intimate a thing it is. He opens his mouth to promise that he meant everything, but he doesn't make it that far.

Them, riding out together. It's perfect, it's everything he'd wanted, and it's never going to happen. He smokes to avoid the pain he feels, trying to keep it from his face, because he'd wanted the same thing. The two of them could have had some real fun, out there in the world.

"We're here, together," he points out. "So it's something like that." Only, Vasquez wants so much more than that.

He nods then, not sure what else to say then, but he does nod, agreeing with that. Taking a breath, and then shifting, moving closer to Vasquez.

"You're right," he finally manages. "It's something, and it's what we've got."

Which isn't saying enough, and even he knows that, but he's not sure of the words he's looking for. He smiles a bit.

"Yellow's a better color on you than it is on me," he finally adds, wincing a bit because it's not what he wants to say, about how he likes Vasquez in his shirt, just like he'd liked that image of him naked too. It's something he's not going to forget soon.

"So... I mean, it's not like what you want is just someone in your bed then. You've got that." Which is a wrong choice of things to remind him of, but he's thinking about this, trying to find words for the things he's thinking.

Vasquez just keeps aggressively smoking, maybe more than before when Faraday starts to drift closer, both to give his hands something to do and to prevent himself from reaching out and yanking on Faraday's shirt to toy around with the fabric and talk about how good he looks in it.

"It's not bad," he agrees, plucking it and turning his head to the side to exhale a steady stream of smoke, before turning to look at Faraday again, not sure where this is going. "It's not just someone in my bed." Because Faraday shouldn't be mistaken.

He definitely, absolutely, completely wants Faraday in his bed where he can take him apart with his mouth and make that white man beg.

"Okay. So..."

And he stops there. There's words, and they're racing through his head, and he just can't find was to vocalize them. Except he knows he has to.

"I've never been with someone," he admits. "I mean, like courted a girl. Ever. I just never looked for a girl long term so I don't even know..."

He's usually so good with words, and they're failing him now.

"You have to know how hard I am to get along with."

Vasquez narrows his eyes, because is this Faraday admitting that he's maybe willing to take a chance? Something clicks and settles into place and he can't help his amusement, now that he knows that maybe it's not such a lost cause.

He tips his head to keep smoking, eyeing Faraday and shrugging. "Here I am, getting along with you," he points out, easy enough. "If you think you know what you want and you need time, we're in no rush," he adds.

After all, they're all stuck here, no? "I'm not going anywhere."

"I know..."

And he stops, not sure what to say because he's never been good at this. For a man so good at words, he isn't great at finding them, or sharing them. Or sharing at all.

"I know I don't want you going away."

And he winces, planting his hands on his hips and trying to find the right words. Except he's not sure what they are.

"And I know we're here and can't leave, but you know what I mean? I want to homestead this place, and have a farm, and you're the person I want there doing that with me."

God, he isn't sure what he wants, or how to say it, but he can't find the right words for any of it without thinking he sounds like a freaking idiot.

Vasquez is starting to feel tentatively very good about all of this, but he's being cautious a little, because Faraday is saying a lot of things, but he still hasn't said that he wants anything other than what they have. He's already agreed to stay, to farm, to homestead.

So now it's his turn to be careful. "What about other things?" he prods. "Is that all you want me doing with you? I want to, yes," he agrees, before Faraday gets any stupid ideas in his head like Vasquez doesn't.

"I don't think so."

Which isn't the most convincing things for him to say. He's not even sure what else he should be saying, but he knows that isn't enough. Not given all they're actually talking about.

"I mean, I don't think that's all I want you doing. I don't want to be here alone..." Which is still him not having entire words for anything that he's feeling. "And I don't think I want to be here with anyone else either."

He made a face, shaking his head. "I'm not making sense, am I?"

He's going to make Vasquez spell it all out for him, isn't he? He takes a few last inhalations of his cigarette, flicking it away when he's through, approaching Faraday and tilting his head to the side as he looks him over.

Vasquez has a very good feeling about this, but he needs to hear it. "You're not alone," he points out, because he's not. "You have me and Bobo," he says, which is just the people under their roof. "We're going to homestead and farm together." His heart is pounding, but he feels so fucking good about what he asks next.

"Whose bed do you want me in?" he asks bluntly.

"We are. We're going to homestead and ride together, even if we never leave this village," he says, because to him that is such a commitment, even if he's not sure how to say the rest.

Even if his nose wrinkles at that, making a face. "You and me... and even him." At least he's useful. Like a dog. Okay he knows better than to ever say that outloud.

Then that question that's direct and to the point. "That's a loaded question," he says, deadly serious now and without any of the humor and taunting that is usually in his words. "Because what I want from you is a lot more than that to me, and I can't swear I'll ever be able to give you what you want in bed but... If you're putting it that way?"

He sighs, not sure of his words, of any of this and he hates feeling so uncertain. Yet he wouldn't give up having this moment for anything.

"Ours. This is our floor. Our rooms. That's where I want you."

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howling in the hills

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