He licks his lips, trying to calm the anxious wave that sweeps through him. World’s greatest lover he may be, but in this, he’s woefully inexperienced. He hasn’t felt this uncertain since he was a young man, just setting off on his own, learning how to smile and flirt and wink, learning how to deal cards and charm folks.

Vasquez’s fingers card through Faraday’s hair, and Faraday finds himself unconsciously leaning into the touch, eyes going half-lidded with how good it feels. It’s a generous offer that Vasquez is giving him, something patient and kind – and again, that agitated feeling kicks up in his gut. Faraday’s fingers tangle in Vasquez’s sleeves again, grip tightening to conceal his nerves, and he tries for a lazy shrug.

“As I recall,” he says, his voice carefully tempered to sound easy and relaxed, “you were the one who seemed so insistent on tryin’ to teach me something. You tryin’ to back down now?”