He likes being watched like this, if he's honest. It makes him feel like he's going to do something incredible that Faraday will not have had before, not like this. He grins, lopsided and full of mischief, as he stares at Faraday from where he's settles near his ankles, his long arms reaching up to loosen his belt and nudge it loose.

"I'm already much better trimmed," he assures with a determined glint as he yanks at Faraday's trousers, working neatly to get his buttons loose, grateful he hadn't drank too much earlier.

He thinks this is a good way to start. It's something Faraday knows, but different enough that he won't be thinking about his Maria or his Ethel while Vasquez is working down here, not unless they had some facial hair that he hadn't been told about. "Last chance," is his offer, but it's a quiet thing, recalcitrant and worried as he keeps his hands on the hem of Faraday's trousers, ready to pull them down and push them to the next step.

He wants to be cautious and careful, because he thinks that his heart would never mend the ache if he got so close to this, only to have it taken away (even if he's not entirely sure yet what it is he wants out of all of this).