Vasquez

It's been an achingly long day and tired though he might be, he's also not that much of an asshole to leave Faraday on his own without any release. He laughs, filthy and warm, when he watches Faraday spit out, even if it catches on something that wrecks it, makes it echo with a hint of grief.

"What kind of man passes out before he can give something back?" he demands, reaching out for him to tug him closer by his hair, even if for now, all he musters up is a languid, slow, open mouthed kiss, nuzzling at his neck and the bristle of his beard when he eases back. "Te amo," he murmurs. "y lo siento."

Sorry that he loves him? Sorry for today? Or just sorry for the future and what happens next?

"I might not move much, but come here," he murmurs, sliding his hand down Faraday's pants to wrap around his dick.