[ Maybe Felix simply believes no one has looked at him this way because he hasn't cared to notice. Locus has seen more than one person look at Felix with barely restrained desire. Which just proves people tend to see what they want. Not to mention that Locus is just oblivious when it comes to his own romantic dealings.
But, that's not something for now. Now Locus is trying to find his place in all this and how to keep things working. He doesn't yet realize the control he has and how much he can extort from the situation. ]
Stop talking.
[ An idle demand. One that's familiar in tone as it is in completion. He's not angry when he says it, even though it is said a bit sharply. Locus shifts between Felix's legs and just smoothes the palms of his hands along the back of Felix's calves, into the dip of his knee then halfway up his thighs. Heat twists his stomach and it's becoming less foreign. He exhales a slow breath, then he's gripping tight around Felix's hips to lift him up higher, pulling him back so his ass is flush with Locus' groin. The hard line pressing against Felix isn't just his imagination. He runs his hand along the line of Felix's spine, applying pressure just above the jut of his shoulderblades. The intention is clear, he thinks, for Felix to stay down but keep his back end up. ]
Don't move.
[ Locus slips off the bed and to the nightstand, opening the drawer and pulling out the lube. On the way back, there's the clink of his belt as he unbuckles it, followed by the shuff of fabric as his clothes fall to the floor. He rejoins Felix there, kneeling between his spread legs. Both hands, again, move over Felix's thighs and higher up this time. Fingers digging into the thicker flesh of his ass, spreading him a little more. Then, he's dipping down, his tongue flicking over Felix's hole and along the seam before coming right back and teasing him open with the slick tip of his tongue. ]
[ 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. ]
[ Sure, it figures the one time Locus decides to try something new this happens. He's caught in the moment himself, never having heard that noise from Felix before, that he could almost ignore it. And he does for a few passing moments, instead just concentrating on the task at hand—licking into Felix as a,means to open and relax him. But, the gouging scratches at the door become coupled with incessant yowling and Locus feels his temper rise.
With a low noise he pulls away, cursing low in Spanish under his breath. Sometimes it's just easier and more scathing that way. Once again he slips off the bed and moves to the door. ]
You just had to get a wild animal.
[ There's the sound of shifting fabric as Locus pulls his boxer briefs back on. His hand grabs the knob of the door, but he stops before pulling it open. ]
Do not move.
[ Then, before Felix can even respond, Locus pulls the door slightly open and grabs Leon by the scruff of his neck before he can get through the crack. He's not happy about it, but neither is Locus. He leaves the room with Leon fussing the whole way and eventually the house falls silent. Quick as he can Locus ties Leon up in the garage and then he's back on his way up to the bedroom. He's quiet as he moves, much like always, and knows which steps creak and where. And, to be honest, he's moving this way to surprise Felix and see if he paid attention to Locus' directions or not. ]
[ This is not happening. Why is this happening? Of all the fucking times for Leon to be a pain in the ass, now, when he's got Locus' mouth on his ass, isn't it. Leon hates him. That's the only explanation. He's a cockblocking douchebag who's out to ruin a fledgling sex life that's over a decade in the making.
And then Locus' warm, wet mouth is gone, leaving a discontented, whining groan to creep its way up Felix's throat.
The rustle of fabric that comes after he feels Locus dismount from the bed makes Felix stop trying to smother himself in frustration and glance his way. Underwear. He's putting his fucking underwear on. Felix is about to slump sideways and complain when Locus forestalls it by telling him to stay put. In the swirl of arousal and frustrated disappointment, it's difficult to understand what he means by that. Especially since he fucking leaves.
This is an awful position to be in. Literally. And with nothing happening and no sounds to fill the room, Felix has all the time in the world to focus on it. He's cold and the wet skin isn't helping with that. His knees are starting to bother him. His back feels like it could use a stretch or a crack or something. His erection's starting to flag and he's too disgruntled to do anything about it.
Sighing, he turns his head into his hand to rub at his forehead. Fucking Leon. If Locus isn't back in the next three minutes, he decides, he's moving, to hell with this shit about not, and putting some pants on. ]
[ To say he's surprised to find Felix as he left him would be a little bit of an understatement. Locus thought for sure that by the time he got back to the bedroom, Felix would either be flopped over on his side complaining about being left alone for too long, or sprawled on his back finishing himself off. Suffice to say that Locus is pleased the directions were followed. Quietly he enters and shuts the door behind him with a soft click. ]
So you can follow directions.
[ Good to know. Though his own erection had begun to flag on his detour downstairs, it's certainly not any longer. Learning new things about himself every day, apparently. The underwear is shucked off again and kicked to the side before he gets back on the bed. He doesn't immediately resume the activity from before, but instead fits himself against Felix and smoothes his hands along his sides and down over the curve of his ass and thighs. One hand shifts off to brace himself on the bed while the other moves around to curl around Felix's cock.
Only seems fair to get them back on the same page again. Locus' strokes along Felix's cock are a little slow, but he takes time to rub his thumb along the head to promote more sensation. ]
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But, that's not something for now. Now Locus is trying to find his place in all this and how to keep things working. He doesn't yet realize the control he has and how much he can extort from the situation. ]
Stop talking.
[ An idle demand. One that's familiar in tone as it is in completion. He's not angry when he says it, even though it is said a bit sharply. Locus shifts between Felix's legs and just smoothes the palms of his hands along the back of Felix's calves, into the dip of his knee then halfway up his thighs. Heat twists his stomach and it's becoming less foreign. He exhales a slow breath, then he's gripping tight around Felix's hips to lift him up higher, pulling him back so his ass is flush with Locus' groin. The hard line pressing against Felix isn't just his imagination. He runs his hand along the line of Felix's spine, applying pressure just above the jut of his shoulderblades. The intention is clear, he thinks, for Felix to stay down but keep his back end up. ]
Don't move.
[ Locus slips off the bed and to the nightstand, opening the drawer and pulling out the lube. On the way back, there's the clink of his belt as he unbuckles it, followed by the shuff of fabric as his clothes fall to the floor. He rejoins Felix there, kneeling between his spread legs. Both hands, again, move over Felix's thighs and higher up this time. Fingers digging into the thicker flesh of his ass, spreading him a little more. Then, he's dipping down, his tongue flicking over Felix's hole and along the seam before coming right back and teasing him open with the slick tip of his tongue. ]
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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. ]
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With a low noise he pulls away, cursing low in Spanish under his breath. Sometimes it's just easier and more scathing that way. Once again he slips off the bed and moves to the door. ]
You just had to get a wild animal.
[ There's the sound of shifting fabric as Locus pulls his boxer briefs back on. His hand grabs the knob of the door, but he stops before pulling it open. ]
Do not move.
[ Then, before Felix can even respond, Locus pulls the door slightly open and grabs Leon by the scruff of his neck before he can get through the crack. He's not happy about it, but neither is Locus. He leaves the room with Leon fussing the whole way and eventually the house falls silent. Quick as he can Locus ties Leon up in the garage and then he's back on his way up to the bedroom. He's quiet as he moves, much like always, and knows which steps creak and where. And, to be honest, he's moving this way to surprise Felix and see if he paid attention to Locus' directions or not. ]
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And then Locus' warm, wet mouth is gone, leaving a discontented, whining groan to creep its way up Felix's throat.
The rustle of fabric that comes after he feels Locus dismount from the bed makes Felix stop trying to smother himself in frustration and glance his way. Underwear. He's putting his fucking underwear on. Felix is about to slump sideways and complain when Locus forestalls it by telling him to stay put. In the swirl of arousal and frustrated disappointment, it's difficult to understand what he means by that. Especially since he fucking leaves.
This is an awful position to be in. Literally. And with nothing happening and no sounds to fill the room, Felix has all the time in the world to focus on it. He's cold and the wet skin isn't helping with that. His knees are starting to bother him. His back feels like it could use a stretch or a crack or something. His erection's starting to flag and he's too disgruntled to do anything about it.
Sighing, he turns his head into his hand to rub at his forehead. Fucking Leon. If Locus isn't back in the next three minutes, he decides, he's moving, to hell with this shit about not, and putting some pants on. ]
no subject
So you can follow directions.
[ Good to know. Though his own erection had begun to flag on his detour downstairs, it's certainly not any longer. Learning new things about himself every day, apparently. The underwear is shucked off again and kicked to the side before he gets back on the bed. He doesn't immediately resume the activity from before, but instead fits himself against Felix and smoothes his hands along his sides and down over the curve of his ass and thighs. One hand shifts off to brace himself on the bed while the other moves around to curl around Felix's cock.
Only seems fair to get them back on the same page again. Locus' strokes along Felix's cock are a little slow, but he takes time to rub his thumb along the head to promote more sensation. ]