If someone asks you if you secretly think something unflattering about them, the only right answer is to say you don't think it at all. Immediately. Without hesitating.
Kind of like if a woman asks you if something makes her look fat. It's a trick. If you hesitate, you're in trouble. If you say yes, you're in a LOT of trouble. And if you say no, you're probably still in trouble because she won't believe you.
No. Look, people are complicated and stupid, okay? And learning what makes them stupid and complicated is like scouting out the terrain ahead of an op. You get intel you can use later if shit hits the fan.
How to avoid pissing Traci off when you want to keep the peace AND what buttons to push when you want to set her off. When you know how to handle people, you can get them to do what you want and then maybe you don't have to kill them later.
Yeah. That's the sex voice. It's all low and gravelly. When you're in a good mood, it's kind of like a silky purr and when you're in a bad mood, it gets growly.
[ This is never not going to be weird to hear. Not that he thinks he's been beaten with the fuck-ugly stick, but how he looks isn't remotely a concern.
Except for his clothes. ]
Yes you are. It has already been established you hold a bias.
How do you think that bias started??? Your muscles have muscles. You're tall. You've got that dark skin. Your fucking HAIR. And your eyes. There is literally nothing about you that isn't attractive at first glance. And then you talk and you sound normally like what most guys have to try to sound like.
AND THEN there's the rest of you. The dry sense of humor. How good you are with a gun. The fact that you fucking care about stupid shit. You could probably squash a guy's head with your bare hands. You're smart! You can plan shit. You're reliable. You're honest. You have a lot of money. You've got style. Your ass looks amazing in jeans.
And you don't even care! You're not arrogant. You don't think you're better than everybody even though you are. Anyone else being you for a day would be a huge douche and you're you all the time and you aren't.
[ Well. That's something. Locus doesn't really know what to say. It's not that he's never gotten compliments before, but it's usually about his work ethic in completing mission parameters. ]
It takes two times human force to crush a head.
[ Sorry. He doesn't really know what else to say to all of that. ]
Okay, well, you look like you can apply that much force without trying.
[ Is it sinking in? Probably not. Felix searches through his phone, finds a picture that's just Locus' face. There isn't any stupid makeup on it covering the scars and he isn't exactly looking at the camera, Felix having snapped in when he didn't realize he was being watched. He attaches it to the message. ]
I've seen a lot but I've never seen anything as breathtaking as this.
[ No, it's definitely not sinking in. When a guy spends his whole life not caring how he looks, only how much he can better his physical capabilities to be stronger, faster, last longer... how he looks doesn't really register. For so long he's been searching on how to be a perfect machine, being human—being normal never registered.
When he gets that picture, the first thing that comes to mind is he needs to get better at paying attention to Felix to stop this kind of thing from happening. Logically he knows Felix isn't going to do anything with them ( ...he knows there are some that probably will have something done, but there's nothing he can do about that... ) but he doesn't like there being pictures—solid proof—of that scar on his face. Even here it's too identifying. The second thing he thinks is that he just doesn't understand where Felix is coming from. At best Locus thinks he looks average and knows exactly where all his improvements need to be made.
He's sitting in the driveway staring at his phone then staring at the door for long enough the screen goes black. Part of him doesn't want to go inside and have to continue this conversation in person. But, if he doesn't go inside, Felix is just going to keep talking to him via text and he won't escape this. He could get mad about it which he knows will stop Felix from mentioning it again for tonight—because it wouldn't be the first time Locus has snapped at him over this topic.
On the other hand, it is kind of flattering. There's no question in Locus' mind that Felix enjoys what he sees when he looks at him. He's not so heartless he doesn't appreciate a compliment every now and again. That might be one of the most normal things about him.
For several moments he sits quietly in the car while he tries to figure out what to do, knowing he's running out of time before Felix decides he's being ignored and starts bitching about nothing. That is something he expressly doesn't want to deal with right now. So, he makes a show of getting out of the car and shutting the door so it can be heard in the house if Felix is listening. His key scrapes in the lock as he comes inside. Closes the door and locks everything up behind him. He makes his way up the stairs to the bedroom and makes a low noise for Leon to clear out, which he does.
Locus is a quick study and has already learned what will make Felix's mind quiet and move on to other things. He's not above employing that tactic. So, he crowds Felix's space without saying a word, captures his chin between his thumb and forefinger and leans down to kiss him, already angling them toward the bed. ]
[ He knows Locus is home. The preternatural awareness of his relative location that comes from years of fighting at his side tells him so. Just like the sound of the car and the way Leon's ears prick and his attention wanders to the window. What he doesn't know is why he's still sitting in the car.
That makes him nervous. Is he pissed? Upset? Is he trying to calm down so he doesn't strangle him when he comes inside? Did Felix push too far and make this awkward?
Leon provides no suggestions and Felix is just about antsy enough to go outside and are what the problem is when he hears Locus coming inside. He's braced for an argument. When Locus enters the bedroom and chases Leon out, Felix tenses.
And then they're kissing and all of his concerns fly right out of his head. He'll wonder about the whys later. Now, he gets his arms around him and kisses him like he's never done it before and has been waiting forever. Passion, as it turns out, never quite seems to diminish where Locus is involved. He moves easily toward the bed, making a bitten off sound of pleasure and impatience as he takes over and practically hauls Locus with him. Unable to keep his hands still for long, he starts tugging at Locus' shirt.
Which is maybe moving too fast but Felix is too caught up in the moment to care. ]
[ 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. ]
[ Maybe it's because he's built differently and will never be more than he is. Maybe it's just because it's Locus and everything to do with Locus is ultimately at least a little bit of a turn on. Whatever the case, as much as he's enjoying being undressed by him—it's stupid but he is, possibly because it makes him feel a little bit like a present that someone actually wants—it's nothing compared to when he just picks him up and deposits him onto the bed. The show of strength is extremely arousing and it just makes him more impatient.
What were they talking about? Felix doesn't fucking know or care. ]
Sam. [ His hands slide over Locus' bare shoulders and he tries, though admittedly not very hard, not to groan in appreciation at feeling the flex and constriction of his muscles under his palms. ] I want you—
[ There's a continuation of this thought, but it gets jumbled up in wanting everything at once. To say nothing of how distracting his mouth is. He squirms under him, half bucking his hips and half just trying to feel more of Locus' body against his own. His fingers curl until it's fingernails instead of fingerpads raking over Locus' back. ]
Kiss me. [ Locus' hair gets an urgent tug. ] Your mouth please right now thank you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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YOU THINK IT OPENLY?!
[ Surprise! Trick question! ]
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Have I ever said that?
[ What is happening. ]
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If someone asks you if you secretly think something unflattering about them, the only right answer is to say you don't think it at all. Immediately. Without hesitating.
Kind of like if a woman asks you if something makes her look fat. It's a trick. If you hesitate, you're in trouble. If you say yes, you're in a LOT of trouble. And if you say no, you're probably still in trouble because she won't believe you.
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[ HE DOES NOT UNDERSTAND THE PURPOSE OF THIS!!! ]
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[ PROFESSOR GATES WILL TEACH HIM. ]
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[ Which is to say he doesn't have a sex voice??? ]
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[ Surprise! He's had the sex voice all along! ]
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[ Stop at once!! ]
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[ N o. ]
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Except for his clothes. ]
Yes you are. It has already been established you hold a bias.
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AND THEN there's the rest of you. The dry sense of humor. How good you are with a gun. The fact that you fucking care about stupid shit. You could probably squash a guy's head with your bare hands. You're smart! You can plan shit. You're reliable. You're honest. You have a lot of money. You've got style. Your ass looks amazing in jeans.
And you don't even care! You're not arrogant. You don't think you're better than everybody even though you are. Anyone else being you for a day would be a huge douche and you're you all the time and you aren't.
Wake the fuck up, man.
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It takes two times human force to crush a head.
[ Sorry. He doesn't really know what else to say to all of that. ]
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[ Is it sinking in? Probably not. Felix searches through his phone, finds a picture that's just Locus' face. There isn't any stupid makeup on it covering the scars and he isn't exactly looking at the camera, Felix having snapped in when he didn't realize he was being watched. He attaches it to the message. ]
I've seen a lot but I've never seen anything as breathtaking as this.
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When he gets that picture, the first thing that comes to mind is he needs to get better at paying attention to Felix to stop this kind of thing from happening. Logically he knows Felix isn't going to do anything with them ( ...he knows there are some that probably will have something done, but there's nothing he can do about that... ) but he doesn't like there being pictures—solid proof—of that scar on his face. Even here it's too identifying. The second thing he thinks is that he just doesn't understand where Felix is coming from. At best Locus thinks he looks average and knows exactly where all his improvements need to be made.
He's sitting in the driveway staring at his phone then staring at the door for long enough the screen goes black. Part of him doesn't want to go inside and have to continue this conversation in person. But, if he doesn't go inside, Felix is just going to keep talking to him via text and he won't escape this. He could get mad about it which he knows will stop Felix from mentioning it again for tonight—because it wouldn't be the first time Locus has snapped at him over this topic.
On the other hand, it is kind of flattering. There's no question in Locus' mind that Felix enjoys what he sees when he looks at him. He's not so heartless he doesn't appreciate a compliment every now and again. That might be one of the most normal things about him.
For several moments he sits quietly in the car while he tries to figure out what to do, knowing he's running out of time before Felix decides he's being ignored and starts bitching about nothing. That is something he expressly doesn't want to deal with right now. So, he makes a show of getting out of the car and shutting the door so it can be heard in the house if Felix is listening. His key scrapes in the lock as he comes inside. Closes the door and locks everything up behind him. He makes his way up the stairs to the bedroom and makes a low noise for Leon to clear out, which he does.
Locus is a quick study and has already learned what will make Felix's mind quiet and move on to other things. He's not above employing that tactic. So, he crowds Felix's space without saying a word, captures his chin between his thumb and forefinger and leans down to kiss him, already angling them toward the bed. ]
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That makes him nervous. Is he pissed? Upset? Is he trying to calm down so he doesn't strangle him when he comes inside? Did Felix push too far and make this awkward?
Leon provides no suggestions and Felix is just about antsy enough to go outside and are what the problem is when he hears Locus coming inside. He's braced for an argument. When Locus enters the bedroom and chases Leon out, Felix tenses.
And then they're kissing and all of his concerns fly right out of his head. He'll wonder about the whys later. Now, he gets his arms around him and kisses him like he's never done it before and has been waiting forever. Passion, as it turns out, never quite seems to diminish where Locus is involved. He moves easily toward the bed, making a bitten off sound of pleasure and impatience as he takes over and practically hauls Locus with him. Unable to keep his hands still for long, he starts tugging at Locus' shirt.
Which is maybe moving too fast but Felix is too caught up in the moment to care. ]
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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. ]
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What were they talking about? Felix doesn't fucking know or care. ]
Sam. [ His hands slide over Locus' bare shoulders and he tries, though admittedly not very hard, not to groan in appreciation at feeling the flex and constriction of his muscles under his palms. ] I want you—
[ There's a continuation of this thought, but it gets jumbled up in wanting everything at once. To say nothing of how distracting his mouth is. He squirms under him, half bucking his hips and half just trying to feel more of Locus' body against his own. His fingers curl until it's fingernails instead of fingerpads raking over Locus' back. ]
Kiss me. [ Locus' hair gets an urgent tug. ] Your mouth please right now thank you.
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