Faraday is more startled than he cares to admit when Vasquez yanks him forward, when he kisses him like he means to devour every word that might fall from his lips. In a different moment, he might have shoved right back, would have turned it into a fight, if only because Faraday isn't in the habit of being ordered around.

This time around, he doesn't. He reluctantly goes where Vasquez demands, moves with the other man like he's trapped in a fierce current. If Faraday were in the habit of being honest, he would admit that this feels too complicated, and he has absolutely no idea where to start with picking it apart. A subject for later, he decides, if, indeed, it ever comes.

But Vasquez moves to strip himself, and Faraday works to do the same, just shy of yanking at his own vest to undo the buttons to shove it off his shoulders. While Vasquez fumbles at the fastenings of his own trousers, Faraday moves to help, slipping his hands into the bare space between them to undo the fastenings. He slips his hand into Vasquez's pants, once there's room enough, and curls his fingers around Vasquez's cock. He strokes lazily, like he's reacquainting himself with the soft, sensitive skin, the familiar pulse of want that makes Vasquez's cock twitch.

"By all means, then," he says, his smile crooked and almost feral. "Let me hear you, darlin'."