[ Vasquez accepts that he probably caught Faraday off guard (reasonably), but the shocked noise and the way Faraday grabs his jacket tells him he fucked up. Rationally, logically, his brain is shouting at him that Faraday was maintaining their cover, don't be an idiot, don't fuck this up—
But before Vasquez has a chance to end the kiss and apologize (or just accept the walloping he probably deserves), Faraday pulls him closer. The noise caught between their mouths sounds fucking good, and Vasquez rumbles with approval, happily going where he's led. He presses Faraday back against the elevator wall, flush against him through the too-goddamn-many layers of clothing between them. But in this moment, he doesn't care; the only thing that matters is the desperately satisfying lock of their lips.
Where they are doesn't matter. What this will mean later doesn't matter. None of it – just the fact that he's finally kissing Faraday.
There's something possessive in the way his hands curl more firmly at the hinges of Faraday's jaw, one palm sliding back to the nape of his neck, to the mussed hair he finds. His lips press to Faraday's, again and again, harsh breathing caught between them as Vasquez finally gives up on trying to rein back this want that's been building for years.
Faraday is his partner. His coworker. His brother-in-arms. His friend.
But the weight of it all is lost to the animal need Vasquez thought he'd buried deep. ]
no subject
But before Vasquez has a chance to end the kiss and apologize (or just accept the walloping he probably deserves), Faraday pulls him closer. The noise caught between their mouths sounds fucking good, and Vasquez rumbles with approval, happily going where he's led. He presses Faraday back against the elevator wall, flush against him through the too-goddamn-many layers of clothing between them. But in this moment, he doesn't care; the only thing that matters is the desperately satisfying lock of their lips.
Where they are doesn't matter. What this will mean later doesn't matter. None of it – just the fact that he's finally kissing Faraday.
There's something possessive in the way his hands curl more firmly at the hinges of Faraday's jaw, one palm sliding back to the nape of his neck, to the mussed hair he finds. His lips press to Faraday's, again and again, harsh breathing caught between them as Vasquez finally gives up on trying to rein back this want that's been building for years.
Faraday is his partner. His coworker. His brother-in-arms. His friend.
But the weight of it all is lost to the animal need Vasquez thought he'd buried deep. ]