[ He doesn't answer immediately, still trying to maintain the upper hand. It's— stupid, admittedly, but it's close enough to their usual shenanigans that he doesn't really think about it.
They both know how easily Vasquez could reverse their positions, though – not because of any disparities in skill, because Faraday maintain that he's got Vasquez beat on that front – but because they know each other's training. Faraday isn't exactly secure in his spot, and he knows it; and the fact that Vasquez isn't even making any attempt to shove Faraday off signals that this is just them dicking around. ]
I'd prefer it if you just— hey, quit it— if you just told me what the hell you were sayin'.
[ There is something a little hilarious about sucking each other's dicks and then devolving into play fighting, which is why Faraday is wearing a crooked grin – even if he's doing his level best to smother it. ]
"Why's it bother me"?
[ And he echoes it sarcastically. ]
Ever occur to you that I wanna know the difference between you going, "hey, beautiful" or "hey, dumbass"?
[ Vasquez is a little surprised when Faraday actually climbs off of him. He props himself upright on his elbows, watching the other man with wariness and curiosity. ]
Not so much.
[ ... which is shockingly honest, as far as answers go. ]
You just make good faces, sometimes.
[ He means Faraday's reactions are entertaining, even if it doesn't quite translate. ]
[ Vasquez breathes out a light laugh, though it trails off when Faraday actually gets up from the bed.
The announcement takes him by surprise, but he's careful to keep any potential disappointment off of his face – mostly, because he's pretty sure this is meant to be a dismissal. There had been no guarantee that Faraday would let him stay long, as the man had said, and he'd still been considering, so... he must have decided. ]
Si, before he knocks your door down, himself.
[ Vasquez runs a hand back through his hair, scooting towards the foot of the bed to grab his pants. ]
And I'm sure your laundry has already waited long enough.
[ He hums noncommittally, heading to a drawer to pull out fresh clothing – a pair of sweats, an old, ratty t-shirt.
He glances over his shoulder, seeing Vasquez getting himself put together, and he feels an odd, split-second twist in his gut, something cold and bitter. ]
You could—
[ The words leave him without conscious thought, but he stops himself, jaw clenching.
Stupid, he thinks to himself, as he pulls on his pants. ]
[ Vasquez busies himself with getting his things together while Faraday goes to get dressed, only glancing up again when he hears Faraday's voice. He pauses, baffled by Faraday's offer cut short. ]
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They both know how easily Vasquez could reverse their positions, though – not because of any disparities in skill, because Faraday maintain that he's got Vasquez beat on that front – but because they know each other's training. Faraday isn't exactly secure in his spot, and he knows it; and the fact that Vasquez isn't even making any attempt to shove Faraday off signals that this is just them dicking around. ]
I'd prefer it if you just— hey, quit it— if you just told me what the hell you were sayin'.
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[ actual children
Vasquez keeps half-heartedly trying to free his hands and grab Faraday back, if only because he's still a competitive bastard, even uselessly. ]
Why does it bother you so much?
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"Why's it bother me"?
[ And he echoes it sarcastically. ]
Ever occur to you that I wanna know the difference between you going, "hey, beautiful" or "hey, dumbass"?
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[ There's a twist in his grin, amusement in his eyes. ]
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Then, with a quick jerk of movement, he tries to use Vasquez's hand to slap Vasquez's own face. ]
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His grin is replaced with a look of thorough displeasure. ]
Ahora estás siendo un gilipollas.
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I'm going to assume that was you saying I'm very handsome.
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You think you can remember those enough not to get them mixed up?
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You must think I'm real stupid, huh?
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Not so much.
[ ... which is shockingly honest, as far as answers go. ]
You just make good faces, sometimes.
[ He means Faraday's reactions are entertaining, even if it doesn't quite translate. ]
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[ And he repeats it back a little flatly.
And in that same flat way, ]
My word, Vasquez. You say such sweet things.
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What, you want I should talk to you like a pretty girl? Tell you flattering things so you giggle and blush?
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I still maintain that you could save us both some time and just tell me what you mean to my face, in a way we can both understand.
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Better for an agent. Lots of us speak it.
[ Vasquez thinks he's making excellent points. ]
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Plus, I've got the glasses goin', so someone who's fluent and can catch the nuances can listen in.
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It's really just in one ear, out the other for you, huh?
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[ But he meets that flat look with a crooked grin. ]
I guess you will just have to depend on whether or not I feel like translating for you, eh?
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So nothing new, there.
[ He pushes away, standing and stretching before he announces, ]
I oughta walk Jack.
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The announcement takes him by surprise, but he's careful to keep any potential disappointment off of his face – mostly, because he's pretty sure this is meant to be a dismissal. There had been no guarantee that Faraday would let him stay long, as the man had said, and he'd still been considering, so... he must have decided. ]
Si, before he knocks your door down, himself.
[ Vasquez runs a hand back through his hair, scooting towards the foot of the bed to grab his pants. ]
And I'm sure your laundry has already waited long enough.
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He glances over his shoulder, seeing Vasquez getting himself put together, and he feels an odd, split-second twist in his gut, something cold and bitter. ]
You could—
[ The words leave him without conscious thought, but he stops himself, jaw clenching.
Stupid, he thinks to himself, as he pulls on his pants. ]
Never mind.
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Could what?
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Could come with me.
[ He tugs the shirt on over his head. ]
Or you could just hang out here. Was thinkin' I'd get a pizza after all.
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