[ It's a demand he's heard so many times and usually he ignores it. Now, he chafes at it. Silence does not come easily to him during sex. And the part of him that will never forgive Locus for Chorus wants to snap back and question if it's easier to pretend that he's Wash if he can't see his face or hear his voice. But that will end this and Felix doesn't want it to end, is pathetic enough to want it even if Locus is pretending he's someone else.
He bites his lip to keep his mouth shut, smothering the sarcasm first with his teeth and then by pressing his face into the bed. It helps keep him quiet when Locus hauls his hips up and Felix can feel his erection against his ass, covered but close enough that it's easy to believe Locus means to fuck him. Now, he thinks, he knows what Locus likes: ass up, face down, and Felix refuses to start wondering why. Down that path lies Washington.
Then he's gone, the rush of air cold against Felix's skin. It prickles, making him shiver, but he's too focused on listening to what Locus is doing to worry about it. Drawer: lube. Belt: naked. The mattress dips, signalling Locus' arrival, and Felix prepares for the cool touch of lube against his ass.
What he gets instead is warm and slick and firm and oh holy fucking God it's Locus' tongue. He hasn't even tried to blow him and already he's doing this? That, combined with the sensation, draws a thin, high-pitched sound from Felix's throat before he realizes he's doing it, his fingers clawing into the sheets so hard something tears and his muscles trembling against the order not to move. He's never heard himself make such a noise before, can barely believe he made it.
Neither can Leon, apparently, because a few seconds later something heavy thumps against the door, followed swiftly by the scrape of claws.
Words are beyond him. He tries though, a garbled groan of sound that's supposed to be go the fuck away and probably seems more like someone's killing him. Or that he's having an orgasm. Thankfully, he isn't coming too soon this time. But Leon scratches again, unconvinced. ]
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He bites his lip to keep his mouth shut, smothering the sarcasm first with his teeth and then by pressing his face into the bed. It helps keep him quiet when Locus hauls his hips up and Felix can feel his erection against his ass, covered but close enough that it's easy to believe Locus means to fuck him. Now, he thinks, he knows what Locus likes: ass up, face down, and Felix refuses to start wondering why. Down that path lies Washington.
Then he's gone, the rush of air cold against Felix's skin. It prickles, making him shiver, but he's too focused on listening to what Locus is doing to worry about it. Drawer: lube. Belt: naked. The mattress dips, signalling Locus' arrival, and Felix prepares for the cool touch of lube against his ass.
What he gets instead is warm and slick and firm and oh holy fucking God it's Locus' tongue. He hasn't even tried to blow him and already he's doing this? That, combined with the sensation, draws a thin, high-pitched sound from Felix's throat before he realizes he's doing it, his fingers clawing into the sheets so hard something tears and his muscles trembling against the order not to move. He's never heard himself make such a noise before, can barely believe he made it.
Neither can Leon, apparently, because a few seconds later something heavy thumps against the door, followed swiftly by the scrape of claws.
Words are beyond him. He tries though, a garbled groan of sound that's supposed to be go the fuck away and probably seems more like someone's killing him. Or that he's having an orgasm. Thankfully, he isn't coming too soon this time. But Leon scratches again, unconvinced. ]