[ He grumbles something unintelligible before he sucks in a breath, holding it as he pushes himself to his feet to guard against the protest of his limbs.
God, he's sore, and if the circumstances were different, he'd feel more pleased by that.
As it is, he's hyper-aware of Vasquez at his back, of the cum dried on his stomach and down his legs, of the lingering hint of Vasquez's cologne on his own skin, and shit, he needs to get all this off him before he can even consider starting to think straight. ]
Oughta report back to HQ. Let 'em know the tracker's in place.
no subject
God, he's sore, and if the circumstances were different, he'd feel more pleased by that.
As it is, he's hyper-aware of Vasquez at his back, of the cum dried on his stomach and down his legs, of the lingering hint of Vasquez's cologne on his own skin, and shit, he needs to get all this off him before he can even consider starting to think straight. ]
Oughta report back to HQ. Let 'em know the tracker's in place.