[ He lets out a sound that's nearly a yelp when Vasquez practically chomps down, the sound tapering off into a curse. ]

Fucking menace&mash;

[ But he quickly betrays his own complaints by arching up into Vasquez, hands scrambling a little on the other man's back to pull him in close. He swears, low and urgent, as his cock throbs with it, as he rocks himself into the tight circle of Vasquez's hand.

He falls back once Vasquez lets up, his neck stinging. God, that's gonna be a big bruise later.

Faraday already has a mask of petulance firmly in place, but he falters, once he catches sight of Vasquez above him, with those dark eyes and sharp grin. He recognizes a predator's smile when he sees one. He's worn it on more than a few occasions, and he's seen it on Vasquez's face in different contexts – usually when they were tag-teaming on intimidating information out of someone, or when they were on the verge of bringing down a bad guy.

It's an entirely different thing when Vasquez aims it at Faraday, though, and another frisson of want surges through Faraday's system.

Argumentative to the last, he manages to wrangle his own reaction enough to shoot the other man a glare. ]

Yeah, but I was referring to you fucking me, not about you chewing me up and spitting me out like a dog with the morning paper.