Work Text:
Vinnie’s fingers tremble as he reaches up to touch Cavendish’s cheek, grasping desperately at the front of his suit.
“Cav, please,” Vinnie rasps, weak and fading fast. He swallows against the dryness in his throat, struggling to gather the strength to simply cup Cavendish’s face so he’ll look at him. “We don’t have long, so…so please…” He takes a ragged breath, stretching up as far as he can to bring his mouth closer to Cavendish’s.
His voice is a hoarse whisper, thready and unsteady as he pleads, “kiss me.”
There’s a long moment before Cavendish sighs dramatically, flicking a few fingers against Vinnie’s forehead, “If you promise to stop acting like such a fool, then fine, we can stop for lunch first.”
“Mexican?” Vinnie inquires, not moving from where he’s pressed up against his partner and clinging to him like a dying martyr.
“No, I want a sandwich,” Cavendish says, pushing his palm against Vinnie’s forehead until Vinnie yields and lets go, stumbling back out of Cavendish’s personal space. “We’re going to Speedy’s.”