[ Well, if he was ever wondering about the validity of using sex as a means to change the topic of conversation, this certainly answers it for him. Not something he's going to make a habit of employing, but something worthy of note, anyway.
He goes easily along, having wanted to get them to the bed anyway. There's clothes in the way—annoying and he's going to make Felix clean all this up—but he sweeps them to the floor anyway. Locus has his limits and he doesn't want to ruin his clothes because they both got carried away. He continues to kiss Felix while he unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off, letting it fall on the discarded sweaters. There's still an undershirt left, but he ignores it for now and moves his hands to Felix. Each one he pulls off with ease, if not a little slow. If not to just agitate Felix. He knows he doesn't like patience and slowness. But, Locus is dictating the pace right now. And considering his intent is to blank Felix's mind, he'll be pushing in various degrees on purpose.
He gets his hands on his skin once all the sweaters are off, skimming them along his sides. There's only the smallest of pauses when his hands curl around Felix's hips. In that moment of deliberation, Locus makes the decision to follow a silly line of thought. It's little effort for the muscles in his arms to constrict as he lifts Felix briefly and deposits him on the bed. He follows swiftly, pulling the undershirt off as he goes. Locus isn't a man driven by his passion, but he is a man driven by perfection—even if he knows he'll never achieve it. So it's that force behind him that he nearly blankets Felix's body with his own, forcefully claiming the place between his legs. Dipping down he forgoes a kiss to his mouth again and instead latches onto his throat to leave a trail of sucking kisses. ]
no subject
He goes easily along, having wanted to get them to the bed anyway. There's clothes in the way—annoying and he's going to make Felix clean all this up—but he sweeps them to the floor anyway. Locus has his limits and he doesn't want to ruin his clothes because they both got carried away. He continues to kiss Felix while he unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off, letting it fall on the discarded sweaters. There's still an undershirt left, but he ignores it for now and moves his hands to Felix. Each one he pulls off with ease, if not a little slow. If not to just agitate Felix. He knows he doesn't like patience and slowness. But, Locus is dictating the pace right now. And considering his intent is to blank Felix's mind, he'll be pushing in various degrees on purpose.
He gets his hands on his skin once all the sweaters are off, skimming them along his sides. There's only the smallest of pauses when his hands curl around Felix's hips. In that moment of deliberation, Locus makes the decision to follow a silly line of thought. It's little effort for the muscles in his arms to constrict as he lifts Felix briefly and deposits him on the bed. He follows swiftly, pulling the undershirt off as he goes. Locus isn't a man driven by his passion, but he is a man driven by perfection—even if he knows he'll never achieve it. So it's that force behind him that he nearly blankets Felix's body with his own, forcefully claiming the place between his legs. Dipping down he forgoes a kiss to his mouth again and instead latches onto his throat to leave a trail of sucking kisses. ]