[ Mercifully, Vasquez was braced for some sort of reaction; he was looking for one. If he's honest, it's a crucial part of why he does so much to antagonize Faraday – in their daily lives and just as much here, apparently. He delights in taunting his partner, and he knows Faraday does just as much to rile Vasquez up, in turn.
It's part of the back-and-forth, part of egging each other on, part of feeding the fire that brings them here.
Thank god he was ready for something, and he doesn't gag.
That would have been embarrassing.
Vasquez inhales sharply through his nose, keeping himself still and his throat lax, but Faraday pulls back so quickly, it's almost negligible. A deep shudder runs down Vasquez's spine, and he can't stifle his own groan as he grips Faraday's thigh, digging in his blunt nails – but not as a punishment for such a sudden reaction.
Fuck.
Instead of letting Faraday get far, Vasquez presses forward again, swallowing mercilessly around the cock filling his throat. ]
[ He's more in control of himself, this time, and while his body nearly moves of its own accord, he manages to wrangle himself enough to not actively try to choke the other man.
Of course, Vasquez is making that almost insurmountably difficult, trying to hold him in place, swallowing around Faraday's cock over and over again. Another guttural groan escapes him, originating from somewhere low in his chest, and he fists his even harder in Vasquez's curls.
He takes the hint, though – the invitation, really – but in spite of all of his earlier impatience, he's still careful about it, rolling his hips experimentally, testing the threshold of Vasquez's limits. ]
[ In another moment, the kind of grip Faraday has on his messy curls would inspire Vasquez to break someone's jaw – mostly because he's rarely on the receiving end of that sort of hair-pulling that isn't in the middle of a real fight. Now, it sends a bolt of want down Vasquez's spine, clenching tight in his belly and stirring his cock.
He's a little surprised by how his body responds, how quickly, but he's no less delighting in the sensation.
Later, Vasquez will probably be grateful that Faraday doesn't try to immediately throw him into some truly rough skull-fucking. Vasquez shifts to accommodate his partner, keeping the right muscles relaxed, focusing on the sound of Faraday's gruff voice. Last time had been enough to give Vasquez a taste of how good Faraday sounds like this, and he already knows he's to be replaying this for himself later.
It gets to him.
Another deep groan drags up Vasquez's sternum, vibrating around Faraday's cock as it slides back into his throat and out again. His breathing is rough, ragged, and he drags his nails up Faraday's thigh until he can wrap his palm around the other man's hip, anchoring himself.
[ He curses under his breath when it's all too clear that Vasquez doesn't intend to pull back and ease off, as he's been doing.
The blank check is enough to make that feral thing stalk the confines of his chest, but he keeps it restrained, keeps himself under careful control while it demands that he just take and take and take.
He fucks into Vasquez's throat with careful thrusts, and while he doesn't take his time, exactly, he's still mindful to be deliberate, to set a pace that Vasquez can easily follow. On their second outing, Faraday thinks it'd probably be awful form to wreck Vasquez's throat, to leave him talking with a notable rasp come tomorrow.
But Vasquez's throat is hot, wet, and tight around Faraday's dick, and those low, appreciative groans coming from Vasquez rumble along Faraday's length. God, he's wanted Vasquez for so fucking long, and all the fantasizing in the world couldn't hold up to the reality. Vasquez is fucking perfect, and Faraday feels a faint, familiar thought at the back of his head, whining and prickly and dangerous.
(He wants to keep this. He wants to hold on for dear fucking life and never let go.)
As wound up as he's been, as much free reign as Vasquez has given him, it doesn't take long for that fire low in his gut to build up to a white-hot, towering inferno, and he feels heat spilling out, unspooling into his limbs. ]
[ If he wasn't completely occupied, Vasquez might have offered Faraday a flash of gratitude for making this— well, not easy, but easier. With a rhythm to follow, Vasquez can time his breathing, can relax without choking, and he doesn't have to hold a lungful of air just to keep up.
Faraday gasps out a warning, and the words shoot straight through Vasquez again; he can only manage an encouraging, acknowledging little moan, another squeeze of Faraday's hip.
It's as much as he can offer "keep going" without stopping, himself. He wants to feel Faraday come in his mouth, wants to swallow whatever he has to offer, and he wants to see this for himself.
(There's so much he wants to do to Faraday, so much he wants to experience, but... they have time, don't they?) ]
[ He swears again, low and heated, once Vasquez offers his permission, and while Faraday maintains control, his rhythm turns uneven, quickening and slowing by turns as he chases his release.
He curls a hand over Vasquez's cheek – not quite tender, but something dangerously close. Hell, Vasquez looks good down there, with his lips stretched around Faraday's cock, with that flush spreading out over his warm skin, with his hair a goddamn mess after Faraday got his hands on him.
His orgasm crashes over him in an instant, golden heat flooding his system as he moans out Vasquez's name, as he thrusts into Vasquez's mouth. He buries both hands in Vasquez's hair as he comes – just for the sensation of it, not without any real intention of locking him in place – and Faraday curls over him, gasping and swearing.
Once he's spent, breath coming in rough pants, he loosens his grip on Vasquez's hair to give the man freedom to shift back, though he keeps his hands curled loosely to cup the back of Vasquez's neck. ]
[ Vasquez doesn't have to withstand much of the unpredictable loss of rhythm, and he adjusts to accommodate Faraday's quick, sudden bucks into his mouth and down his throat. Faraday doesn't force him down, but as Vasquez feels that cock pulsing, throbbing just before he comes—
Vasquez swallows.
He feels the salty bursts of cum shooting down his throat, and only practice keeps him from gagging and coughing it all back up. He swallows repeatedly, only easing back to suck and lick Faraday clean. He doesn't go far, only until his mouth is free so he can try to catch his breath. Dark eyes watch Faraday as Vasquez pants past swollen lips, but, finally, that insufferable grin starts to creep back into place. ]
[ Another snort, quieter this time, and he smirks a little. ]
Now you're just bein' greedy.
[ But an invitation is an invitation, and he presses another kiss to Vasquez's lips – maybe a little lazier, now that he has that warm, hazy satisfaction from such a fucking thorough orgasm, but no less heated.
He tastes himself on Vasquez's tongue, that flash of salt ahead of something that's distinctly Vasquez, and the combination of it is intoxicating. ]
[ Vasquez doesn't offer anything else snarky when Faraday leans in for that kiss. He meets Faraday with a smile, but it fades as his lips move against Faraday's, as his tongue slides over the other. It's shockingly easy to lose himself in this, in Faraday, in just kissing him, even if there isn't that fierce and feral edge to it.
He grazes his teeth along Faraday's bottom lip – lightly, compared to how viciously he'd nipped at Faraday before. ]
[ More of this, he wants to say. Just you and your fucking mouth.
But Vasquez has his tongue fully occupied, and Faraday lets out a low, wanting sound for it. Obviously it's too soon for him to get really worked up, but it feels goddamn good. The sharp nip of Vasquez's teeth, the wet slide of his tongue, the heat of his mouth. Vasquez's stubble is rough against his palm when he cups the line of Vasquez's jaw, guiding him up to join him on the bed. ]
[ Vasquez doesn't need much coaxing to climb up properly onto the bed with Faraday. He maintains that kiss, the drag of heat between them, but with the additional real estate on the bed, he presses closer to Faraday. As much as he'd enjoyed sucking Faraday's cock (and having Faraday's mouth around his own) the downside is that he's spent far too long without the sensation of Faraday's body against his own.
Fingers slide up again, burying themselves in Faraday's hair as Vasquez draws away to catch his breath. ]
[ He closes the space again, arms wrapping around Vasquez's waist, teeth catching on Vasquez's lower lip.
He pulls Vasquez in close and twists, moving to shove Vasquez back against the mattress to straddle his hips. He flashes Vasquez a shit-eating grin as he settles before feigning a pensive demeanor again. ]
[ Kudos to Faraday, because he catches Vasquez legitimately by surprise. He grunts when his back hits the mattress, and he blinks up at Faraday for a heartbeat before that grin just makes Vasquez roll his eyes. ]
You can't put him in your yard for a short while?
[ Vasquez's broad palms settle on Faraday's thighs, almost absently touching him. ]
[ And he says with the sort of authority that comes from experience.
... admittedly, he's overstating things. But Jack has, in the past chewed his way through a couple of boards and gotten loose to wreak havoc on people's yards.
If Jack ever digs up the roses in his asshole neighbor's yard again, Faraday may actually need to leave the state. ]
Plus, I've gotta consider dinner, maybe think about laundry...
[ He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, planting his hands on either side of Vasquez's head. ]
[ ... As far as Jack goes, Vasquez genuinely doesn’t doubt Faraday’s claim that the damn dog will break out of the yard. That beast seems capable of just about everything.
Faraday starts listing off all sorts of chores to do, dinner to eat, and Vasquez lifts his brows in an expression of faux concern as Faraday leans over him. ]
If there’s so much, then maybe I shouldn’t keep you, guerito.
[ He says that, but he makes no move to wiggle out from under Faraday or take his hands off of the other man. If anything, Vasquez seems to be enjoying the freedom to be extra handsy. ]
[ He tips his head to one side in a vague nod, though a small part of his attention is diverted in mentally tracking the path of Vasquez's calloused palms. ]
We've also gotta factor in the fact that you're a damned prick, even at the best of times.
[ Vasquez’s hands drift absently up Faraday’s thighs, rounding his hips, smoothing up his partner’s chest. He follows faded scars with his fingertips, before mapping the broad shape of Faraday’s ribs and down again. ]
[ Despite his best efforts, his voice grows a little thin as he appreciates the warm, rough slide of Vasquez's hands against his skin. His body shows evidence of a life not wisely lived – most of the scars are old and faded, clearly before his time in Statesman. Though maybe that's obvious, considering the training Statesman dumped into him, and all the special gear they outfit him with on missions, meant to protect him from being on the wrong end of a gun. ]
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It's part of the back-and-forth, part of egging each other on, part of feeding the fire that brings them here.
Thank god he was ready for something, and he doesn't gag.
That would have been embarrassing.
Vasquez inhales sharply through his nose, keeping himself still and his throat lax, but Faraday pulls back so quickly, it's almost negligible. A deep shudder runs down Vasquez's spine, and he can't stifle his own groan as he grips Faraday's thigh, digging in his blunt nails – but not as a punishment for such a sudden reaction.
Fuck.
Instead of letting Faraday get far, Vasquez presses forward again, swallowing mercilessly around the cock filling his throat. ]
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[ He's more in control of himself, this time, and while his body nearly moves of its own accord, he manages to wrangle himself enough to not actively try to choke the other man.
Of course, Vasquez is making that almost insurmountably difficult, trying to hold him in place, swallowing around Faraday's cock over and over again. Another guttural groan escapes him, originating from somewhere low in his chest, and he fists his even harder in Vasquez's curls.
He takes the hint, though – the invitation, really – but in spite of all of his earlier impatience, he's still careful about it, rolling his hips experimentally, testing the threshold of Vasquez's limits. ]
God, Vas, your fuckin' mouth—
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He's a little surprised by how his body responds, how quickly, but he's no less delighting in the sensation.
Later, Vasquez will probably be grateful that Faraday doesn't try to immediately throw him into some truly rough skull-fucking. Vasquez shifts to accommodate his partner, keeping the right muscles relaxed, focusing on the sound of Faraday's gruff voice. Last time had been enough to give Vasquez a taste of how good Faraday sounds like this, and he already knows he's to be replaying this for himself later.
It gets to him.
Another deep groan drags up Vasquez's sternum, vibrating around Faraday's cock as it slides back into his throat and out again. His breathing is rough, ragged, and he drags his nails up Faraday's thigh until he can wrap his palm around the other man's hip, anchoring himself.
He figures he ought to hold on for the ride. ]
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The blank check is enough to make that feral thing stalk the confines of his chest, but he keeps it restrained, keeps himself under careful control while it demands that he just take and take and take.
He fucks into Vasquez's throat with careful thrusts, and while he doesn't take his time, exactly, he's still mindful to be deliberate, to set a pace that Vasquez can easily follow. On their second outing, Faraday thinks it'd probably be awful form to wreck Vasquez's throat, to leave him talking with a notable rasp come tomorrow.
But Vasquez's throat is hot, wet, and tight around Faraday's dick, and those low, appreciative groans coming from Vasquez rumble along Faraday's length. God, he's wanted Vasquez for so fucking long, and all the fantasizing in the world couldn't hold up to the reality. Vasquez is fucking perfect, and Faraday feels a faint, familiar thought at the back of his head, whining and prickly and dangerous.
(He wants to keep this. He wants to hold on for dear fucking life and never let go.)
As wound up as he's been, as much free reign as Vasquez has given him, it doesn't take long for that fire low in his gut to build up to a white-hot, towering inferno, and he feels heat spilling out, unspooling into his limbs. ]
Shit, sweetheart, I'm gonna come—
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Faraday gasps out a warning, and the words shoot straight through Vasquez again; he can only manage an encouraging, acknowledging little moan, another squeeze of Faraday's hip.
It's as much as he can offer "keep going" without stopping, himself. He wants to feel Faraday come in his mouth, wants to swallow whatever he has to offer, and he wants to see this for himself.
(There's so much he wants to do to Faraday, so much he wants to experience, but... they have time, don't they?) ]
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He curls a hand over Vasquez's cheek – not quite tender, but something dangerously close. Hell, Vasquez looks good down there, with his lips stretched around Faraday's cock, with that flush spreading out over his warm skin, with his hair a goddamn mess after Faraday got his hands on him.
His orgasm crashes over him in an instant, golden heat flooding his system as he moans out Vasquez's name, as he thrusts into Vasquez's mouth. He buries both hands in Vasquez's hair as he comes – just for the sensation of it, not without any real intention of locking him in place – and Faraday curls over him, gasping and swearing.
Once he's spent, breath coming in rough pants, he loosens his grip on Vasquez's hair to give the man freedom to shift back, though he keeps his hands curled loosely to cup the back of Vasquez's neck. ]
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Vasquez swallows.
He feels the salty bursts of cum shooting down his throat, and only practice keeps him from gagging and coughing it all back up. He swallows repeatedly, only easing back to suck and lick Faraday clean. He doesn't go far, only until his mouth is free so he can try to catch his breath. Dark eyes watch Faraday as Vasquez pants past swollen lips, but, finally, that insufferable grin starts to creep back into place. ]
Still alive, guero?
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Which is why when Vasquez has that air about him again, Faraday pinches the back of his neck. ]
It'd take much more than that to do me in.
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Good. It would be a bad look for your claims about your ability as a lover, otherwise.
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"Claims"? I would've thought by now you'd have all the irrefutable proof you'd need.
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Maybe, maybe not. No such thing as too much proof, no?
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Now you're just bein' greedy.
[ But an invitation is an invitation, and he presses another kiss to Vasquez's lips – maybe a little lazier, now that he has that warm, hazy satisfaction from such a fucking thorough orgasm, but no less heated.
He tastes himself on Vasquez's tongue, that flash of salt ahead of something that's distinctly Vasquez, and the combination of it is intoxicating. ]
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He grazes his teeth along Faraday's bottom lip – lightly, compared to how viciously he'd nipped at Faraday before. ]
Planning to kick me out soon, cariño?
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I'm still thinkin'.
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[ He leans in to kiss Faraday again before giving him a chance to reply – mostly because Vasquez just wants to keep kissing him. ]
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But Vasquez has his tongue fully occupied, and Faraday lets out a low, wanting sound for it. Obviously it's too soon for him to get really worked up, but it feels goddamn good. The sharp nip of Vasquez's teeth, the wet slide of his tongue, the heat of his mouth. Vasquez's stubble is rough against his palm when he cups the line of Vasquez's jaw, guiding him up to join him on the bed. ]
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Fingers slide up again, burying themselves in Faraday's hair as Vasquez draws away to catch his breath. ]
Still thinking?
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[ He closes the space again, arms wrapping around Vasquez's waist, teeth catching on Vasquez's lower lip.
He pulls Vasquez in close and twists, moving to shove Vasquez back against the mattress to straddle his hips. He flashes Vasquez a shit-eating grin as he settles before feigning a pensive demeanor again. ]
I gotta eventually walk Jack, for instance.
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You can't put him in your yard for a short while?
[ Vasquez's broad palms settle on Faraday's thighs, almost absently touching him. ]
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[ And he says with the sort of authority that comes from experience.
... admittedly, he's overstating things. But Jack has, in the past chewed his way through a couple of boards and gotten loose to wreak havoc on people's yards.
If Jack ever digs up the roses in his asshole neighbor's yard again, Faraday may actually need to leave the state. ]
Plus, I've gotta consider dinner, maybe think about laundry...
[ He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, planting his hands on either side of Vasquez's head. ]
It's a whole damn thing.
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Faraday starts listing off all sorts of chores to do, dinner to eat, and Vasquez lifts his brows in an expression of faux concern as Faraday leans over him. ]
If there’s so much, then maybe I shouldn’t keep you, guerito.
[ He says that, but he makes no move to wiggle out from under Faraday or take his hands off of the other man. If anything, Vasquez seems to be enjoying the freedom to be extra handsy. ]
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We've also gotta factor in the fact that you're a damned prick, even at the best of times.
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[ Vasquez’s hands drift absently up Faraday’s thighs, rounding his hips, smoothing up his partner’s chest. He follows faded scars with his fingertips, before mapping the broad shape of Faraday’s ribs and down again. ]
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[ Despite his best efforts, his voice grows a little thin as he appreciates the warm, rough slide of Vasquez's hands against his skin. His body shows evidence of a life not wisely lived – most of the scars are old and faded, clearly before his time in Statesman. Though maybe that's obvious, considering the training Statesman dumped into him, and all the special gear they outfit him with on missions, meant to protect him from being on the wrong end of a gun. ]
You're an annoying bastard, you know that?
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[ Though Vasquez sounds more amused than offended. ]
Maybe I should stop touching you, if I am such a prick.
[ And as casually as he put his hands on Faraday, he lifts them away, palms up.
... Of course, Vasquez is perfectly aware that this is the more dickish move, which is exactly why he does it. ]
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