[ Vasquez keeps fucking him through his orgasm, keeps fucking him through the aftershocks, then just— keeps fucking him. Thankfully not for long – God, Faraday might have actually expired if Vasquez decided then and there to try and drive him to another orgasm – and when Vasquez pulls him in close, when he comes, Faraday murmurs a few less than coherent encouragements.
And at last, they're both spent, sweaty and panting, and Vasquez's breath is hot and damp against his throat. Faraday forces himself to relax his grip in the other man's hair, tries to smooth away what must've been a sharp sting with quick strokes of the pads of his fingers over Vasquez's scalp.
With another partner clinging as close as Vasquez is, Faraday would make some quip about feeling smothered, about not being able to breathe. But— maybe he's just too cowed to speak, doesn't know what the fuck to say for fear of shattering the moment and inviting real life back in.
Or maybe it's just that he's goddamn exhausted, breath coming in rough, uneven gasps, aching in all the best goddamn ways. ]
no subject
And at last, they're both spent, sweaty and panting, and Vasquez's breath is hot and damp against his throat. Faraday forces himself to relax his grip in the other man's hair, tries to smooth away what must've been a sharp sting with quick strokes of the pads of his fingers over Vasquez's scalp.
With another partner clinging as close as Vasquez is, Faraday would make some quip about feeling smothered, about not being able to breathe. But— maybe he's just too cowed to speak, doesn't know what the fuck to say for fear of shattering the moment and inviting real life back in.
Or maybe it's just that he's goddamn exhausted, breath coming in rough, uneven gasps, aching in all the best goddamn ways. ]