He lets Vasquez tug him forward, hands coming to rest on Vasquez's shoulders. The question draws a quick huff from Faraday – a breath that approaches a fond laugh – and he cards his fingers through Vasquez's unruly curls.
"I wanna see you," is Faraday's answer, and he offers it up quickly enough. Maybe on a different day, taking Vasquez from behind will be his preference; there is, after all, much to be said about having that leverage, about seeing the long line of Vasquez's back and watching his muscles tense and coil. But today, right now, after all this time apart, he wants to be able to watch Vasquez fall apart.
"Go on," he says, and he gives Vasquez a light nudge, urging him further up the bed. "On your back, sweetheart."
There's a little voice in his head that's telling him that he doesn't deserve any of this. After all, he'd been the cowardly one to bolt away from Faraday when he should have been braver and stronger, tried to be with him without running away. And yet, Faraday is the one here, hands in his hair, calling him sweetheart and it makes his breath catch as he stares at him.
Nodding, he reaches for the slick and shifts to his back, digging his heel into the bedding to give himself leverage to start preparing himself.
With the posts, it almost creates an illusion of privacy, like there's no world outside of this area. It's exactly what he wants right now, because the only thing in the world that he's after is this. He keeps working his fingers inside of himself, his eyes never leaving Faraday. "Come touch me," he pleads, because he could say that he misses him again, but Faraday already knows this. "Joshua, please."
He kneels on the edge of the mattress once Vasquez shifts further up the bed. Faraday watches how eagerly Vasquez moves, how his slick fingers work himself open. There's a dizzying moment where he thinks about how keenly he had missed this fool of a man, how furious he had been at Vasquez for leaving him, and how quickly that had all been washed away in the course of a night. Maybe he ought to be a little more angry at himself for being so easily swayed, but mostly, he's relieved to have this again.
When Vasquez makes that demand, Faraday's smile turns from warm and fond to something slightly feral.
"Well," he says, low and heated. "I can't very well say no to that, can I?"
He moves further up the bed, slipping into the space between Vasquez's leg like it's the most natural thing in the world. His hands rest on his knees, smooth up along the other man's toned thighs to curl around his hips. His thumbs trace the blades of his hips – slightly more pronounced now, after this time apart, but he forces himself not to frown when he notices it. Instead, he relishes the heat of Vasquez's skin, and the familiar tense, toned muscles.
He reacquaints himself with Vasquez's body, calloused palms traveling the bared expanse of Vasquez's skin, tracing the contours of his muscles, following the path of old, faded scars. And he takes pains to avoid Vasquez's cock, swollen and twitching and leaking with precum as it is.
Faraday is, perhaps, following the word of Vasquez's plea, if not the spirit of it. After all, he is touching Vasquez, as he asked.
When Faraday starts getting closer, his breaths accelerate. He knows that he's going to get what he needs (not wants, but needs), but then Faraday's hands start to map his body in a way that he hasn't had for so long, but he knows that no one else could give him, not like this.
He's so happy for the touch that it takes him a moment to realize how much he's being teased. Though, when he does, it's not long before Vasquez starts to collapse into impatience, which is a spiral down that crashes soon enough. "Joshua," is a heated demand, slipping past his lips.
His eyes are wild, trying to track him, because there's two things he wants to be happening right now and neither of them are. "Kiss me," he pleads. "Or touch me, you know where," he hisses, reaching out to grab Faraday by the hair and yank him in a little tighter, trying to get him to do what he wants.
The naked impatience in Vasquez's voice earns the man a quick, almost feral smirk, challenging and knowing all at once.
"I am touchin' you," he cuts back almost blithely, hands bracketing the other man's hips, thumbs pressing against the blades.
Of course, Faraday should've expected Vasquez to take matters into his own hands, and when Vasquez grabs him, pulls on his hair, Faraday lets out a startled sound for it, catching himself by pressing a hand against the mattress before he accidentally headbutts the other man. He snorts out a laugh, still a little fuzzy thanks to the drinks back at the bar, but he finds his balance soon enough.
"Impatient bastard," he murmurs, but he ducks down and claims Vasquez's lips in a heated kiss. Positioned as they are, Faraday's cock presses against Vasquez's stomach, rubs against Vasquez's own cock, and it's an easy enough thing to reach between them and grab both of their lengths. He lets out a shuddering moan against Vasquez's mouth before biting a little meanly at the other man's lower lip. "You coulda knocked us both out just then."
He narrows his eyes at Faraday when he makes that stupid claim, because he's absolutely doing it to get on his nerves and unfortunately, it's even working. Why is he so enamoured with this jackass, is what he wants to know, and yet, he knows he loves him.
Lucky for him, Faraday goes easily with the pull, and Vasquez smirks into that kiss, feeling proud of himself though even that melts away as soon as Faraday is closer, tangling his fingers into his hair, trying to rut up against his cock as best as he can, desperate for the touching and the closeness.
"You should have just touched me then," he replies, eager and happy to be contrary.
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no subject
"I wanna see you," is Faraday's answer, and he offers it up quickly enough. Maybe on a different day, taking Vasquez from behind will be his preference; there is, after all, much to be said about having that leverage, about seeing the long line of Vasquez's back and watching his muscles tense and coil. But today, right now, after all this time apart, he wants to be able to watch Vasquez fall apart.
"Go on," he says, and he gives Vasquez a light nudge, urging him further up the bed. "On your back, sweetheart."
no subject
Nodding, he reaches for the slick and shifts to his back, digging his heel into the bedding to give himself leverage to start preparing himself.
With the posts, it almost creates an illusion of privacy, like there's no world outside of this area. It's exactly what he wants right now, because the only thing in the world that he's after is this. He keeps working his fingers inside of himself, his eyes never leaving Faraday. "Come touch me," he pleads, because he could say that he misses him again, but Faraday already knows this. "Joshua, please."
no subject
When Vasquez makes that demand, Faraday's smile turns from warm and fond to something slightly feral.
"Well," he says, low and heated. "I can't very well say no to that, can I?"
He moves further up the bed, slipping into the space between Vasquez's leg like it's the most natural thing in the world. His hands rest on his knees, smooth up along the other man's toned thighs to curl around his hips. His thumbs trace the blades of his hips – slightly more pronounced now, after this time apart, but he forces himself not to frown when he notices it. Instead, he relishes the heat of Vasquez's skin, and the familiar tense, toned muscles.
He reacquaints himself with Vasquez's body, calloused palms traveling the bared expanse of Vasquez's skin, tracing the contours of his muscles, following the path of old, faded scars. And he takes pains to avoid Vasquez's cock, swollen and twitching and leaking with precum as it is.
Faraday is, perhaps, following the word of Vasquez's plea, if not the spirit of it. After all, he is touching Vasquez, as he asked.
no subject
He's so happy for the touch that it takes him a moment to realize how much he's being teased. Though, when he does, it's not long before Vasquez starts to collapse into impatience, which is a spiral down that crashes soon enough. "Joshua," is a heated demand, slipping past his lips.
His eyes are wild, trying to track him, because there's two things he wants to be happening right now and neither of them are. "Kiss me," he pleads. "Or touch me, you know where," he hisses, reaching out to grab Faraday by the hair and yank him in a little tighter, trying to get him to do what he wants.
no subject
"I am touchin' you," he cuts back almost blithely, hands bracketing the other man's hips, thumbs pressing against the blades.
Of course, Faraday should've expected Vasquez to take matters into his own hands, and when Vasquez grabs him, pulls on his hair, Faraday lets out a startled sound for it, catching himself by pressing a hand against the mattress before he accidentally headbutts the other man. He snorts out a laugh, still a little fuzzy thanks to the drinks back at the bar, but he finds his balance soon enough.
"Impatient bastard," he murmurs, but he ducks down and claims Vasquez's lips in a heated kiss. Positioned as they are, Faraday's cock presses against Vasquez's stomach, rubs against Vasquez's own cock, and it's an easy enough thing to reach between them and grab both of their lengths. He lets out a shuddering moan against Vasquez's mouth before biting a little meanly at the other man's lower lip. "You coulda knocked us both out just then."
no subject
Lucky for him, Faraday goes easily with the pull, and Vasquez smirks into that kiss, feeling proud of himself though even that melts away as soon as Faraday is closer, tangling his fingers into his hair, trying to rut up against his cock as best as he can, desperate for the touching and the closeness.
"You should have just touched me then," he replies, eager and happy to be contrary.