Drabble Archives: Once Upon A Time In Mexico
All my Once Upon a Time in Mexico drabbles. Ratings from gen and PG to R, starting with Gen and going up from there in order. Various pairings.
Getting to Know Your Beat (G)
For smtfhw: Mexico please? I'm not going to be any more specific than that!
Sands brushed his teeth with the tap water and then made the worse mistake of going to a little local diner the first night. Already sweating so much he thought he’d be sick, it was the dumbest thing that Sands could have made. He was sick. For three days. Then every time he felt better, he’d eat something else, and then start vomiting again.
The stupid part was that he’d done it on purpose.
Two weeks later though, and he could eat food off the street without batting an eye. He’s sweated out Langley and burned Mexico into his blood.
The best little bike in the world (G)
For traitorousrat: Do the bubblegum boy. Write something about him.
His name is Fernando Galeno Bernal, after his uncle, he is nine years old and has been a street seller for six of those nine years. His bicycle is new. Or, more accurately, it’s new for him but the bike is actually a good five years old. The chain falls off every couple of days but he’s become a master at putting it back on again. He stole the bell of an older kid’s bike and the sound it makes as he jolts over the uneven streets makes him want to smile and laugh because now the bike is perfect.
Family Fueds (PG)
For arabwel: OuaTiM, Lorenzo-centric. If you can include something sharp, all the better
If Sands got any faster, Lorenzo was going to wind up like El, with some sort of hole through his hand, thanks to Sands’ nasty little habit of attacking him with cutlery during mealtimes. Thank Christ for gunfighter’s reflexes.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t take Sands. After living with him for half a year, Lorenzo knew most of the ways to get past his defenses. It was just so much easier to simply walk away, because though his tongue wasn’t as sharp as Sands’ the pointed silence he left behind spoke volumes of it just not being worth his time.
R.E.S.P.E.C.T. (PG)
For mojavedragonfly: Sands/El. Show me Sands realizing there is something he actually respects in El.
If Sands had listened to his Mama and held his tongue until he had something nice to say, he’d never have opened his mouth once in the time that El had known him. Not one thing he’d said to El after El had picked him up off the streets would be repeatable in polite company. Not that either of them had such friends, but still.
“Nice shot,” Sands said. “Yesterday. The guy on the roof. It was a good shot.”
It was half-mumbled and quickly followed by foul-mouthed snark about the car, but El took it for what it was.
Cats and Dogs
For arabwel: Something involving Lorenzo and a puppy
He finds it in a trash can, like an abandoned baby, only this little mongrel puppy is tangled up in the remains of a six-pack but happily chewing on what once was part of a McDonald’s meal. Lorenzo tucks it into his jacket and brings it home. He cleans it in the tub and names it Enrique.
El is skeptical. They don’t know how big it will grow, if it has diseases, they’ll have to take it to the vet…
//If you can bring home strays// Lorenzo says crossly, //so can I//
Sands hisses at him and proves his point.
Everything I need to know I learned in Kindergarden (PG)
For hannahrorlove: Sands reading something.
Sands is a patient man. He has nothing but time, holed up in a series of cheap motels with a penitent Mariachi to help him relearn everything. One year later and Sands’ patience has served him well. He is mastermind and partner with El in their new crusade against the cartels. There is only one thing that Sands cannot do.
“It’s an ‘H’. That, or it’s an ‘E’.”
“Now you are guessing.”
Sands throws the book at El’s head. Why the hell should he learn Braille when he can work wonders with a talking computer?
He’s patient. Not a saint.
The will to survive (PG-13)
For smtfhw: Anything so long as it's Mexico
Sands would beg for touch one moment, and savage anyone close to him a moment later. He’d turn on himself, until it wasn’t safe to let him loose, for fear of what he’d do. El wasn’t sure how he ended up as unofficial caregiver, and didn’t know why he continued picking up the pieces instead of letting Sands die. Then, one morning, Sands crawled across the dirty floorboards to lie quietly in a patch of sun at El’s feet. Next morning he steals his gun back and calls El a fuckmook, and El knows why he didn’t let Sands die.
Role Model (PG-13)
For geekmama: Yes, chiclet boy & Sands!
Sands lets him wear the fake moustache because if Sands is the one wearing the shirt that says ‘FCUK dyslexia’ than he can wear the moustache. Chiclet (Sands likes the nickname so it stays) could grow one of his own, but won’t. Because Sands is clean shaven. The same way he smokes cigarillos because Sands does. He studies Sands, his battered idol, as he outlines the plan for the day, smoke pouring from his mouth like the vitriolic words. He’s begun wishing Sands would stop calling him ‘kid’ because the feelings that are growing have nothing to do with childhood.
Taking it a little easier (PG-13)
For pinkdormouse: Any chance of some Sands/Ramirez?
Of course he went back, because the agent was more than obviously bleeding and Jorge wasn’t about to save a dog only to let a man die.
Moco is a damn sight more grateful though, and doesn’t insist on smoking like a chimney or drinking his best wine. Sands- Sheldon now- did climb into Jorge’s bed but Jorge knows better than to think Sheldon did it out of gratitude and he’d be an idiot to think it was love. There’s a peace though, now that Jorge has leaned to appreciate Sheldon’s machinations and Sheldon has learned the perks of retirement.
Playboy (PG-13)
For arabwel: OuaTiM. Lorenzo-centric
Lorenzo prefers his women curvaceous, preferably with long hair, sweet brown eyes and full lips. He likes shy women, ones he has to work to draw out of their shells, to discover what they desire.
Sands is not a woman. He is flat chested and narrow hipped. His hair is middling long but he doesn’t have any eyes, brown or otherwise and his lips are usually twisted into a sneer. He’s demanding in bed and it really begs the question why they’re fucking at all.
Sands isn’t what Lorenzo wants, but perhaps the foul mouthed gringo is what he needs.
Not like those other boys (PG-13)
For arabwel and khohen1: Something Lorenzo-centric
Everyone thinks he’s the bimbo of the group, and to some extent that’s true. He is the one that all the women want. Which is odd, but maybe El just gives off too much of ‘I’m a tortured, gunslinging advert for fucked up homosexuality’. And Lorenzo blames that last bit entirely on Sands.
People tend not to give credit where credit is due. He looked after Fideo for years while El moped. He earned a damn good living and he had a good time doing it too. Now that the shit is settling, he’s alright with whatever the future brings.
Deathwish (PG-13)
Sands threw himself into the dance with everything he had. What a glorious last stand. Finally, someone with a hand worth dying by. This motherfucker had style. They were out of bullets, out of back up, and down to one cane tipped with a razor sharp end and something resembling an old stiletto.
Sands was bruises on bruises and it was time to go.
Something jabbed into his side and he awoke with a snarl, hands gripped tight around nothing at all.
“You were having a nightmare,” El said.
Sands bit his lip until it bled to keep from screaming.
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (PG-13)
For kukkurkurat: El/Sands wherein Sands *is* actually a woman
El can’t decide if he wants to laugh, or not. Sands doesn’t seem so inclined towards mirth.
“A woman?”
Sands groans. “Sorry to spoil all of your gay mariachi masturbation fantasies but yes, I have two X chromosomes.”
El considers this. “And you are…”
“Look, twinkletoes, I’m bleeding, I’m cramping, and I’ve lost my fucking eyes, so you’re on Team Tampax.”
There’s only one thing El needs clarified. “Are you a lesbian?”
“Not entirely.”
He may as well just ask, because Sands doesn’t seem to respond to traditional wooing. “Can we have sex?”
“Not this week.”
It’s not a no.
Bang, Bang, My Baby Shot Me Down (R)
For sweetphaex
The last time Sands saw El…the last time El was there, was the church. They’d been on the altar of all places, crucifix digging into Sand’s wrists, the altar cloth stuffed into his mouth to muffle his blasphemies.
Then El was gone, and he was left to find his own way out and around. That wasn’t the problem, he was quite capable of looking after himself. He just kept hearing those damn church-bells and each time he wondered if El would be there, and if it wouldn’t have been better for El to just put a bullet in his head.
A Pretty, Blind Gringo-kitty is for Life, Not Just for Christmas (R)
For smtfhw: Seasonal Once Upon a Time in Mexico
Lorenzo thinks it’s funny to sneak into Sands’ room at stupid o’clock and truss him up like a prize pig. In red ribbon. Really fucking strong red ribbon.
Sands likes to think he has a pretty well-adjusted sense of humor but finding himself with a collar and bow around his neck, stuffed into a Christmas box, isn’t his idea of a good time.
El lifts him out that morning and pets his hair until Sands purrs. He tugs on the collar with his teeth and leaves Sands’ wrists tied when they fuck. Sands thinks maybe Lorenzo can be forgiven. Maybe.
Getting to Know Your Beat (G)
For smtfhw: Mexico please? I'm not going to be any more specific than that!
Sands brushed his teeth with the tap water and then made the worse mistake of going to a little local diner the first night. Already sweating so much he thought he’d be sick, it was the dumbest thing that Sands could have made. He was sick. For three days. Then every time he felt better, he’d eat something else, and then start vomiting again.
The stupid part was that he’d done it on purpose.
Two weeks later though, and he could eat food off the street without batting an eye. He’s sweated out Langley and burned Mexico into his blood.
The best little bike in the world (G)
For traitorousrat: Do the bubblegum boy. Write something about him.
His name is Fernando Galeno Bernal, after his uncle, he is nine years old and has been a street seller for six of those nine years. His bicycle is new. Or, more accurately, it’s new for him but the bike is actually a good five years old. The chain falls off every couple of days but he’s become a master at putting it back on again. He stole the bell of an older kid’s bike and the sound it makes as he jolts over the uneven streets makes him want to smile and laugh because now the bike is perfect.
Family Fueds (PG)
For arabwel: OuaTiM, Lorenzo-centric. If you can include something sharp, all the better
If Sands got any faster, Lorenzo was going to wind up like El, with some sort of hole through his hand, thanks to Sands’ nasty little habit of attacking him with cutlery during mealtimes. Thank Christ for gunfighter’s reflexes.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t take Sands. After living with him for half a year, Lorenzo knew most of the ways to get past his defenses. It was just so much easier to simply walk away, because though his tongue wasn’t as sharp as Sands’ the pointed silence he left behind spoke volumes of it just not being worth his time.
R.E.S.P.E.C.T. (PG)
For mojavedragonfly: Sands/El. Show me Sands realizing there is something he actually respects in El.
If Sands had listened to his Mama and held his tongue until he had something nice to say, he’d never have opened his mouth once in the time that El had known him. Not one thing he’d said to El after El had picked him up off the streets would be repeatable in polite company. Not that either of them had such friends, but still.
“Nice shot,” Sands said. “Yesterday. The guy on the roof. It was a good shot.”
It was half-mumbled and quickly followed by foul-mouthed snark about the car, but El took it for what it was.
Cats and Dogs
For arabwel: Something involving Lorenzo and a puppy
He finds it in a trash can, like an abandoned baby, only this little mongrel puppy is tangled up in the remains of a six-pack but happily chewing on what once was part of a McDonald’s meal. Lorenzo tucks it into his jacket and brings it home. He cleans it in the tub and names it Enrique.
El is skeptical. They don’t know how big it will grow, if it has diseases, they’ll have to take it to the vet…
//If you can bring home strays// Lorenzo says crossly, //so can I//
Sands hisses at him and proves his point.
Everything I need to know I learned in Kindergarden (PG)
For hannahrorlove: Sands reading something.
Sands is a patient man. He has nothing but time, holed up in a series of cheap motels with a penitent Mariachi to help him relearn everything. One year later and Sands’ patience has served him well. He is mastermind and partner with El in their new crusade against the cartels. There is only one thing that Sands cannot do.
“It’s an ‘H’. That, or it’s an ‘E’.”
“Now you are guessing.”
Sands throws the book at El’s head. Why the hell should he learn Braille when he can work wonders with a talking computer?
He’s patient. Not a saint.
The will to survive (PG-13)
For smtfhw: Anything so long as it's Mexico
Sands would beg for touch one moment, and savage anyone close to him a moment later. He’d turn on himself, until it wasn’t safe to let him loose, for fear of what he’d do. El wasn’t sure how he ended up as unofficial caregiver, and didn’t know why he continued picking up the pieces instead of letting Sands die. Then, one morning, Sands crawled across the dirty floorboards to lie quietly in a patch of sun at El’s feet. Next morning he steals his gun back and calls El a fuckmook, and El knows why he didn’t let Sands die.
Role Model (PG-13)
For geekmama: Yes, chiclet boy & Sands!
Sands lets him wear the fake moustache because if Sands is the one wearing the shirt that says ‘FCUK dyslexia’ than he can wear the moustache. Chiclet (Sands likes the nickname so it stays) could grow one of his own, but won’t. Because Sands is clean shaven. The same way he smokes cigarillos because Sands does. He studies Sands, his battered idol, as he outlines the plan for the day, smoke pouring from his mouth like the vitriolic words. He’s begun wishing Sands would stop calling him ‘kid’ because the feelings that are growing have nothing to do with childhood.
Taking it a little easier (PG-13)
For pinkdormouse: Any chance of some Sands/Ramirez?
Of course he went back, because the agent was more than obviously bleeding and Jorge wasn’t about to save a dog only to let a man die.
Moco is a damn sight more grateful though, and doesn’t insist on smoking like a chimney or drinking his best wine. Sands- Sheldon now- did climb into Jorge’s bed but Jorge knows better than to think Sheldon did it out of gratitude and he’d be an idiot to think it was love. There’s a peace though, now that Jorge has leaned to appreciate Sheldon’s machinations and Sheldon has learned the perks of retirement.
Playboy (PG-13)
For arabwel: OuaTiM. Lorenzo-centric
Lorenzo prefers his women curvaceous, preferably with long hair, sweet brown eyes and full lips. He likes shy women, ones he has to work to draw out of their shells, to discover what they desire.
Sands is not a woman. He is flat chested and narrow hipped. His hair is middling long but he doesn’t have any eyes, brown or otherwise and his lips are usually twisted into a sneer. He’s demanding in bed and it really begs the question why they’re fucking at all.
Sands isn’t what Lorenzo wants, but perhaps the foul mouthed gringo is what he needs.
Not like those other boys (PG-13)
For arabwel and khohen1: Something Lorenzo-centric
Everyone thinks he’s the bimbo of the group, and to some extent that’s true. He is the one that all the women want. Which is odd, but maybe El just gives off too much of ‘I’m a tortured, gunslinging advert for fucked up homosexuality’. And Lorenzo blames that last bit entirely on Sands.
People tend not to give credit where credit is due. He looked after Fideo for years while El moped. He earned a damn good living and he had a good time doing it too. Now that the shit is settling, he’s alright with whatever the future brings.
Deathwish (PG-13)
Sands threw himself into the dance with everything he had. What a glorious last stand. Finally, someone with a hand worth dying by. This motherfucker had style. They were out of bullets, out of back up, and down to one cane tipped with a razor sharp end and something resembling an old stiletto.
Sands was bruises on bruises and it was time to go.
Something jabbed into his side and he awoke with a snarl, hands gripped tight around nothing at all.
“You were having a nightmare,” El said.
Sands bit his lip until it bled to keep from screaming.
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (PG-13)
For kukkurkurat: El/Sands wherein Sands *is* actually a woman
El can’t decide if he wants to laugh, or not. Sands doesn’t seem so inclined towards mirth.
“A woman?”
Sands groans. “Sorry to spoil all of your gay mariachi masturbation fantasies but yes, I have two X chromosomes.”
El considers this. “And you are…”
“Look, twinkletoes, I’m bleeding, I’m cramping, and I’ve lost my fucking eyes, so you’re on Team Tampax.”
There’s only one thing El needs clarified. “Are you a lesbian?”
“Not entirely.”
He may as well just ask, because Sands doesn’t seem to respond to traditional wooing. “Can we have sex?”
“Not this week.”
It’s not a no.
Bang, Bang, My Baby Shot Me Down (R)
For sweetphaex
The last time Sands saw El…the last time El was there, was the church. They’d been on the altar of all places, crucifix digging into Sand’s wrists, the altar cloth stuffed into his mouth to muffle his blasphemies.
Then El was gone, and he was left to find his own way out and around. That wasn’t the problem, he was quite capable of looking after himself. He just kept hearing those damn church-bells and each time he wondered if El would be there, and if it wouldn’t have been better for El to just put a bullet in his head.
A Pretty, Blind Gringo-kitty is for Life, Not Just for Christmas (R)
For smtfhw: Seasonal Once Upon a Time in Mexico
Lorenzo thinks it’s funny to sneak into Sands’ room at stupid o’clock and truss him up like a prize pig. In red ribbon. Really fucking strong red ribbon.
Sands likes to think he has a pretty well-adjusted sense of humor but finding himself with a collar and bow around his neck, stuffed into a Christmas box, isn’t his idea of a good time.
El lifts him out that morning and pets his hair until Sands purrs. He tugs on the collar with his teeth and leaves Sands’ wrists tied when they fuck. Sands thinks maybe Lorenzo can be forgiven. Maybe.