[ Well, birds of a feather. Even if those feathers are skin and fur, respectively.
Closing up the house after they leave, he heads down the walkway to the car he's acquired here. He could say they share it, but he doesn't like Felix driving it. Getting inside, he starts it up and drives them into town. There's trees at the grocery stores all over, and truthfully Locus doesn't really care one way or the other, but they squabble over it for a few minutes before they find a nursery with bigger and better trees. That they leave with one eight feet tall is a little daunting. Not to mention he just thinks it's stupid to be this big and it's just kind of weird to be so normal.
Isn't it?
He stops at the steak place to pick up whatever Felix ordered earlier and then sets them on the course for home. Of course, once they get there, he realizes there's no treestand, so back out they go to get one. It's annoying going into the store any time of the year, but around the holidays...
Suffice to say, they made it out without any incidents so. There's that.
Finally back home, Locus fights with the tree to get it into the stand and then settles it in by the window in the front. His hair is a mess, there's sap all over his hands and clothes, little fir tree needles are all over the floor. This is some kind of hell on earth. It smells nice, though. Locus stands there staring at this monster of a tree, blinking slowly at it and then sighs. ]
[ Who knew Christmas trees were so fucking hard? Everyone's got one. Hell, a lot of people have more than one! But there's all this stuff about quality and dimensions and the kinds of needles and tree skirts and tree stands. How anyone ever figured all this shit out, Felix doesn't know. It's a minor miracle they get the damn thing into the house and set up. Especially after the discovery of the critical role a tree stand plays in the proceedings.
Felix isn't completely useless during the Christmas Tree Battle of 2015. ( Or is it 2016? He can't remember. ) He gets in there to position the stand while Locus fights to hold the tree up and straight. He puts water in the thing afterward and then divests them both of the bugs that fell out of the tree while they were struggling with it. And he's even volunteered to vacuum, once he realized how much of a fucking mess trees make.
None of this was on the TV shows he'd watched earlier. ]
I don't know. [ Felix eyes the pile of decorations and lights he bought earlier, then shifts his gaze to the tree. ] We might? Maybe? [ Maybe not. ] We can go out to that all-night megastore thing once we're done and pick up more shit if we need it?
[ By then, maybe the crowds will be nonexistent and the experience won't be as aggravating. Felix glances at Locus, then gets stuck in some mental feedback loop where he keeps trying to look away and can't quite manage it. Locus looks like he fought the tree and lost. There's a hunk of hair doing gravity-defying feats at the back of his head that suggests the involvement of tree sap and it shouldn't be attractive or entertaining, but it is and Felix can't stand himself for the stupid way it makes him feel to see it. ]
[ Not that he hates Leon or anything remotely like that—in all honesty, he doesn't mind the cat so much—but he's really glad he's not here. This would have been three hundred percent more aggravating with him prowling around. Locus already feels his temper threatening to snap at any moment because of all this holiday cheer. Which he's pretty sure isn't what's supposed to be happening. Because from all the television Felix has been watching, Locus has seen the commercials and movies. People are supposed to be happy around this time of year. Not mad.
Locus is staring at the tree like it killed his entire family and then some, unsure of if he wants to decorate it or incinerate it. Especially at the thought of going back out to one of those stores. Maybe if they go in the middle of the night it won't be as bad. Maybe. He sighs and drags the back of his wrist over his forehead. It's around that time he feels Felix staring at him and he looks over, brows raised in question. ]
You would make a killing— [ A beat, then remembering Locus' new aversion to killing, he stresses; ] —financially in a reality show.
[ He'd probably be mobbed every time he left the house, which Felix knows he'd hate. But he can just imagine the crowds of starry-eyed women lining up for autographs and pictures. And his own subsequent murder spree once it gets to be too much for his miniscule patience.
Shaking his head, Felix pulls himself out of that bizarre daydream and snaps his fingers. ]
I think we need an eggnog break before we tackle decorating. It's apparently the drink of Christmas. [ He wrinkles his nose. ] I just hope it tastes better than it sounds. I'll be right back.
[ He's just through the doorway when he leans back into the living room and points to Locus, finally answering the question in a more informative manner. ]
You have sap in your hair. At the back. There's a... [ Making a fiddly little gesture that describes nothing, he pulls his phone out his pocket and takes a picture. It's just easier. He tosses it to Locus with a stern; ] Don't you dare delete that.
[ Then he disappears into the kitchen to get refreshments. ]
[ Yeaaah, that's something Locus would hate, too. As it is he doesn't like being around people. They look at him and know his face. He doesn't like that. Logically he knows it's unnecessary paranoia because what's going to happen here. But it's hard to stop. He's the one who's always been so concerned with codenames and secrecy. Walking around here openly feels like walking into a mine field every single day. Not to mention the fact these people take pictures whenever they want and post them on Rumblr. No, he's too well-known as it is. Putting himself on television is out of the question.
The look he gives Felix speaks of that much. He's still wearing that look—eggnog, really???—as he turns to face him. Which is a good thing as Felix's phone comes sailing toward him in the next moment. It's caught easily and he turns it to look at the photo. Sure enough, his hair is doing something impressive and a frown pulls at his lips. This is why he wants to cut it. His eyes close as he sighs, knowing this isn't going to be fun to get out. Without meaning to, he opens the camera roll and when he looks back, something catches his eye.
Well. Not something. Someone. Namely, himself.
There are dozens and dozens of pictures in here that he doesn't remember being asked to take. He flips through them with a morbid curiosity and tries to objectively look at himself. But even then he can't see what Felix does. Before he knows it, he's following Felix into the kitchen and sets it down on the counter. It's right there on the tip of his tongue to ask why there are so many and to knock it off, but that never manifests. ]
[ He's got the glasses out and the carton of the eggnog halfway open by the time Locus enters the kitchen. There's a plate of Christmas cookies—bought, obviously, he doesn't want to kill them both with his terrible baking—wrapped in plastic near the glasses. Cookies and eggnog are a necessary part of Christmas decorating, the TV told him. So are gingerbread houses, but he has no idea what the fuck that's about and hasn't tried to tackle it yet.
At the sound of Locus' voice, Felix glances over his shoulder. His eyebrows lift, slightly surprised by the request to help, but he isn't about to say no. ]
Yeah, sure.
[ Setting the carton down, he steps to the side, twists around, and vaults up onto the counter. It'll just be easier to do it if he's sitting up higher. Felix leans sideways to reach the sink, snags a paper towel, and wets it. As he straightens, he grabs the hand soap. ]
Come here. [ Spreading his legs so Locus can lean against the counter, Felix gestures toward the space between them. It's all very professional for once, no inappropriate looks or comments offered. ] And turn around.
[ This is all so strange and Felix is going to have to stop watching Hallmark movies. Cookies and eggnog and decorations. Maybe Locus should chill and just try to make a bid at being normal. Like they do this every year. Like this is the sort of mundane life they lead. Or maybe it's weirder to pretend this is normal when it's not and they should find what is their normal.
Locus doesn't know how to do that though.
He moves closer, fitting himself between Felix's legs and looks at him briefly before turning around. He hesitates, thankfully he's facing away so it can't be seen, but eventually he carefully rests his arms against Felix's thighs. This is fine, right? Normal. Why he's thinking about it now when he wouldn't have if this was out in the field is stupid. He knows that. But he doesn't know how to not be conscious of it either.
Whatever. He's not going to think about it.
Which means he relaxes back as much as anyone can against a counter digging into their back. Locus' attention shifts to his hand curled slightly over Felix's knee. Slowly he rubs his thumb back and forth along where it bends, just above the cap. ]
I think I might get a haircut; a trim at least. Getting too long.
[ That pronouncement leaves Felix staring mournfully at the section of hair he's holding in his hand. It's such nice hair. It doesn't deserve to be unceremoniously parted from Locus' head. ]
Just don't buzz it off. [ Current task momentarily shuffled to the backburner, Felix combs his fingers through the hair. Then does it again, ostensibly smoothing it out to make the sap removal easier. In reality, he's just touching it before Locus brutually murders it. ] That would be a crime against all that is nice in the universe.
[ Getting back to business, he puts a little bit of soap onto his fingers and works it into the sap. Probably it's what Locus is doing to his knee that prompts him to thoughtlessly continue talking. ]
Seriously. Think of all the people that see you every day. Their lives are probably boring and shitty, but for the few minutes they get to see you they're probably really fucking happy they got out of bed. [ He pauses, considering. Then he adds, grinning with a vindictive sense of spite; ] And also bitterly jealous because they aren't fucking you and think you're married to some gorgeous supermodel they could never top.
[ It's a shame Locus doesn't like posting shit to the internet. Felix is sure they could get a huge following if he posted all of those pictures he's been taking of Locus to that popular picture site. ]
[ There's the whole thing with being seen again. None of that matters to him. It never has. He doesn't like being seen. Doesn't need it to get through his days. Much like he doesn't care so much about his hair. Clearly he cares some, or else it wouldn't be this long or clean or taken care of. But it's just hair. It grows back. ]
I don't care what they think.
[ Truth. He doesn't care one stitch of what people think about him. If he did, he'd act more like Felix. He'd make an effort to be personable. But, he just doesn't care. Maybe he should and maybe that would make things easier here, but. He's not looking to change. ]
And you shouldn't either. They don't matter.
[ He could leave it at that, because it's just conversational. He's not scolding, just speaking blandly. None of them matter as far as he's concerned. But, he doesn't say just that. He turns slightly to get a look at Felix. ]
I'm with you. Who I share a bed with is no concern of anyone but us. [ Leon, too, probably because he's annoying. But. ] Who I share anything with is of no concern to anyone else, either.
[ He turns back around, that hand squeezing tighter against Felix's leg for a brief moment before his thumb resumes that motion again. ]
They aren't important and you shouldn't think they are, either.
[ If people mattered, Felix wouldn't kill them as easily as he does. He might feel a tiny bit of remorse or guilt or something for all the things he's done. But he doesn't. Because people don't matter.
Most of the ones that did are dead. Or standing here in the kitchen with him. Or destroying his house. Is it a problem that Leon is more of a person to him than actual people? Felix doesn't know. He doesn't really care either. ]
But I like messing with them. [ He scrubs a bit vigorously at the sap, taking care not to pull Locus' hair, then picks up the paper towel and wipes up the mess. ] And I like that you get attention.
[ Dropping the paper towel, he starts separating strands of hair to make sure there isn't any residue left. So far, so good. ]
I know you don't like it and I don't mean people bugging you. I mean the appreciation. You act like you're some kind of, I don't know, Gúta or something and I keep hoping that all the lustful staring will get through to you eventually. You're a good looking man, Sam. You need to stop thinking you aren't.
[ All the hair checks out. Felix smoothes it all down, fingercombing it back into place. ]
Sap's out. [ He pats him on the shoulders. ] You should probably wash your hands now. Before you handle the ornaments. Or the cookies. You have to at least try the cookies and the eggnog. Twenty-first century Christmas rules demand it.
[ Truthfully Locus doesn't see himself as good-looking or rancid. He sees nothing and can't understand why Felix thinks he's something worth getting jealous over. Having that scar on his face makes it feel like he's definitely nothing to look at. Then again, he's never really been placed in a situation to feel jealousy, so he doesn't know. Maybe he'd get jealous if he noticed people trying to move in on Felix.
Is it possible people have and he just has no idea?
No, probably not. Felix is a lot of things, but he's not looking anywhere else.
He snorts a very soft sound that's, well, amusement. There's no other way to explain it. Locus doesn't laugh a lot, but it's still something that can happen. Once or twice a year. ]
No you don't. You got jealous just today when I was counting with Traci. Your friend. Who has "appreciated" me.
[ And just the way he says that means that: yes, he's heard the gossip sessions she and Felix have.
He turns around but doesn't move away. Likely he should and wash his hands off so they're less sticky and gross. But, that gives him time away from the moment and he's trying to live inside those, think less and act more. That's why he leans in, leaving both hands settled on Felix's pants, and presses a lingering kiss against Felix's mouth. ]
Thanks.
[ For the sap cleaning. It's a low murmur against his lips before Locus does pull away then. His hands stick a little to Felix's pants but he gets them off and moves over to the sink to wash up. Not feeling awkward at all. ]
[ In theory, knowing people find Locus attractive is nice. Maybe he gets jealous. Like, really jealous. All the time. About everything. But he can still appreciate other people having taste enough to appreciate Locus. Which he does. Even if he's jealous.
And he's getting ready to point that out when Locus kisses him. It's so surprising that he actually makes a faint, albeit muffled, gasping noise before his eyelids slide closed and he just sort of... melts into it. Then Locus is gone and he's still sitting there, prying his eyes open and feeling like a tornado just dropped him into the middle of Oz. ]
I... [ Words? He clears his throat. ] Sure. Um, any time.
[ Once they start, the words keep coming as he slides off the counter. ]
You know, you get sap in your hair or... [ Oh my God, get it together you fucking idiot. ] Or whatever.
[ Maybe there's a little trip there as he gets himself sorted out, but he grabs the counter and nonchalantly pretends nothing happened. Which leaves him standing there doing nothing a second too long. Goddamn it. Turning around, he quickly fills up the glasses with eggnog and holds it out to Locus as he's finishing up with his hand washing. ]
[ Once he's done, he casts around for something to dry his hands off with but gets momentarily waylaid by the glass of what appears to be a slightly yellow colored milk. Not looking suspicious at all. He frowns a little at it, uncertain if he really wants to try this particular holiday activity. He'll eat the cookies, no problem. Might even eat them with a glass of milk. This just looks like... Well, it doesn't look appetizing.
Locus fusses with his hair for a fleeting moment, securing it back in a haphazard sort of bun. Then takes the glass with a sigh. And gives Felix a suspicious sort of look. With a quick sigh he lifts it up to his mouth and takes a drink.
—it's not as bad as he was expecting. And that shows clearly on his face. Also probably helps that he doesn't gag and immediately spit it out all over the floor. One shoulder rolls in a shrug as he sets it down then starts picking around the cookies to find one that he'd like. ]
[ Well, Locus doesn't hate it, so that's a positive sign. Felix looks down into his own glass, sniffs at it again, and then takes the plunge. A tentative, cautious sip turns into an actual drink. Once it's down his throat, he licks around at the inside of his mouth, trying to figure out if he likes it or not and what it's missing. ]
That didn't taste as bad as I thought it would. I was expecting something more... eggy.
[ Rooting around in the cabinet, he pulls out a bottle of bourbon, considers it, then sets it back in favor of the whiskey. He pours a little of that into the eggnog, takes another sip, and nods. ]
Okay, that's better. Here. [ Locus' cup gets a shot of whiskey before Felix puts it back and puts the carton of eggnog away ] Come on. Bring the cookies. I guarantee decorating the tree will be more fun if we're drinking.
[ Not that he's in any way surprised by the addition of alcohol, but he is surprised by how different the drink tastes with that addition. It makes it better. Well, as better as it can be. It's still kind of weird.
Dutifully, he picks up the plate of cookies and follows Felix out into the living room. They're set down on the coffee table along with his drink. On a second thought, he picks a few off and eats them. They're not that good, but they're good enough. They kind of remind him of the crap sweets from the corner store. He regards the tree thoughtfully while he chews, then carefully brushes off any fallen crumbs from his fingers and shirt. Then he looks to the mess of bags and boxes of tree decorations. ]
[ In theory, it's a good idea. Locus is the strategist and Felix is used to following his lead. In reality, it turns into a debacle, because Felix is the way he is and as this is his first experience with Christmas decorations, he doesn't realize that there's a right way and a wrong way to handle lights, garland, and everything else that gets easily tangled.
Handing the first string of lights to Locus without incident, he proceeds to dump the rest out of their boxes into a pile. Fishing around for the end of the last string to be unboxed inexplicably ends up causing a huge tangle. How this happens, Felix doesn't know, but he drains his eggnog quickly and tries to sort it out before Locus gets done hanging the first batch of lights.
He fails.
Which is why, when Locus finishes with the tree and turns for the next strand, Felix is sitting in the middle of a mess, looking personally offended by the lights. And since he knows what's coming, he glares defiance at Locus. ]
[ He should have known this was going to be a disaster. Granted, the decorating in the house turned out fine ( mostly; there's garland and baubles in the bathroom and he thinks that's too much ), but this... this is turning into less fun than previously advertised. And it's not really Felix's fault ( even if he's the one who wanted to do this ) but it's also totally Felix's fault.
But he's not mad. Not really. There's no point. Felix should just left well enough alone and they could have proceeded as they did the first one. Locus should have known better.
Or maybe it's just demon lights. What does he know? Because he tries to help and somehow they wind up in a bigger mess. Everything is far more tangled than it ought to be with them in the middle of it. Locus tries to move out of the tangled knot one way and it only serves to further entangle him until he's pressed flush against Felix. If either of them move the wrong way, the whole string will go!!! Probably.
Either way, they're stuck for the moment and all Locus can focus on is how sweet Felix smells because of the eggnog and cookies. His gaze slips down to Felix's mouth, lingers for a moment the drifts back up. His voice is a low murmur when he finally speaks; ]
I don't think this is how decorating is supposed to go.
[ It might have worked out of Felix would have held still and not made the situation worse, but he'd been trying to help, in amidst flailing around, and now here they are. Trying to extricate himself without ruining the lights is proving to be a challenge, not the least of which is because Locus is strong enough to snap them if he moves wrong. Then they end up too close together and all of Felix's motivation to rectify the problem disappears, like light trying to escape the gravitational pull of a black hole. Any opportunity to be pressed up against Locus is one he'll take.
Maybe, maybe, if Locus had kept his attention at eye level, Felix could have mustered some shred of something and kept his mouth to himself. But he catches the trajectory of Locus' gaze and, honestly, he's never been one to practice impulse control. ]
Could be worse. [ Probably is going to be worse in a few seconds, because his moody reservations about everything are forgotten in the moment. ] Fuck it.
[ There's nothing gentle about it. Felix grabs a fistful of Locus' shirt, not giving a damn if he breaks anything, and yanks him into a kiss. It's hard and desperate and for once he doesn't care about what Locus thinks of him for it. He just wants and he's tired of denying it. ]
[ He doest think anything, really. Not right now. Not with the way Felix gives him not time to think. Especially not with the way he kisses him, either. They should probably be doing this more than they are. Locus knows he's part of the problem. As much as he knows about a lot of things, being affectionate isn't one. At all. He's trying, though. He's just not yet figured out quite how to make a seamless transition.
Felix takes care of that for him now, though. After a small hesitation—out of surprise and nothing more—Locus kisses him back. Like everything else he does, he makes sure he's performing at optimal capacity. A hand slips through Felix's hair, tangling in the strands and making a slight noise at the fact it's sticky with product. He shifts down to the buzzed side instead and draws his blunt nails through. His other hand tries to pick off a string of lights from around them but eventually just gives up that particular ghost and grips Felix's thigh over them. He tastes Felix's mouth and for once he tastes as sweet as he smells. For whatever reason, Locus likes that. Wants more of it. So he unabashedly strokes his tongue into Felix's mouth, clearly not ready for this to stop anytime soon. ]
[ Thinking about it will ruin everything. If he starts thinking, he'll start analyzing and overanalyzing everything, he'll start to question and second guess and let a lifetime of mistakes get in the way. So he doesn't think about it at all.
He makes a low, throaty sound of pleasure when Locus' fingers scratch over his scalp, the shorter hairs making his skin more sensitive somehow. No examine; he lets himself feel it without questioning it. An instant later, that sound becomes a frustrated whine of irritation as he tries to get his hand up higher than it is and encounters resistance from the lights.
A haphazard struggle ensues, though he neither lets Locus go nor stops kissing him. It just makes him a wriggly, frustrated mess and probably breaks a lightbulb or two. Sucking on Locus' tongue takes precedence over trying to get his hands on him better; giving himself over to that, Felix hooks a foot over Locus' leg and calls it a day. More contact, whatever form it takes, is better than less.
The hand not still fisted in Locus' shirt rucks up the bottom and weasels its way to warm skin. Flexing his fingers, Felix digs his nails in, scratching as he leaves off sucking for biting at Locus' lip. There's still a desperate edge to it that he can't temper. When this will come, if it will, he doesn't know. He just knows that he has to take as much as he can before it's over. ]
[ There's definitely lightbulbs broken. Locus hears them pop and just hopes the slivers of glass don't embed themselves into either one of them. He'd rather dig ten bullets out than tiny shards of glass. But Felix isn't acting like anything is wrong, so Locus puts it out of his mind.
At least he does until he feels Felix's hand against his skin. That stirs something in him, more so at the bite of his nails. He makes a low, pleased sound and in the next instant, he's reaching for the knife he knows Felix has on him. It's always there. And he's not disappointed this time. The kiss is broken only briefly as Locus impatiently and quickly slices through the wires. Fuck the lights. They can get more later. The wires slacken and Locus brushes off what's right in front of him, then stretches to set the knife on the coffee table. A moment later and he's pressing Felix down to the floor and capturing his lips for another kiss, one hand curling around Felix's hip while his opposite forearm keeps him braced above him. ]
[ If Felix is lying on broken glass, he doesn't feel it. Then again, his leg could be on fire and he probably wouldn't pay attention to it. Kissing Locus like this, it shoves everything else so far away from him that it's all inconsequential background noise.
He hears that noise, recognizes the action that spawned it, and he's all set to do it again when Locus pulls back. The protest he's about to make dies on his tongue as he realizes what he's doing, and holy fucking Christ, it's hot. It probably shouldn't be. He's seen Locus use knives countless times before. Just never in this context before.
By the time Locus gets the wires off and is pushing him down, Felix is rock hard and so aroused it's a wonder he doesn't tear the shirt off of him with his bare hands. Or come in his pants, though that possibility isn't as far off as he would like.
Free of the lights, Felix gets his hands on him again, up under his shirt so fast he probably scratches him simply getting the fabric out of the way. Then he's dragging his fingernails up his back, touching territory that isn't unfamiliar—he's patched him up too many times not to be familiar with how his body looks and feels—but new nonetheless. Rough, impatient sounds get muffled by Locus' mouth as Felix tries to either press up against him, hard to do with Locus hanging onto his hip like that, or pull him down.
There's air between them. That's entirely too much space. ]
[ It takes more than a fleeting moment to shift down and close the space between their bodies. Not that it doesn't feel right, because it does—no point in looming over him—but it's also invited contact. He wishes he knew how to do all of this better, naturally. It only makes sense to just do and go from there.
So, he does. Locus relaxes ( for him ) against Felix. The hand on his hip slides further up his body as he does so, dragging up his side. Felix is so familiar to him, but this is new to him, too. Involuntarily his hips twitch, grinding against Felix briefly, as the pass of his nails moves over his skin. Neither one of them were made for soft and gentle things. Might as well follow that idea.
Locus pinches Felix's bottom lip between his teeth, just this side of too hard and doesn't bother attempting to soothe it at all. His hand makes its way back to Felix's hip and he squeezes tight with a bruising grip. It might leave some form of mark behind. It's not that he means to do it, but he also kind of does. All the while his hips seem to move of their own accord and he can feel Felix hard against him. While he's not fully hard, yet, himself, it's definitely well on its way to happening. ]
[ Better. Much better. Locus settles on top of him and the restlessness in Felix disappears. He starts to make a sound, possibly a sigh not wholly unlike contented relief, but then Locus' hips move, dragging friction along the length of his cock, and whatever noise that might have been twists in a moan.
Automatically, he rocks back against him, wanting more, body practically starved for it. He probably should have done something about that, but when he'd arrived he wasn't really feeling up to getting laid, hadn't wanted to pay for it when he was, stopped thinking about it when he and Locus started this thing, and hasn't been in the mood to jerk off lately. And now that dry spell is coming back to haunt him.
The sharp pinch of Locus' teeth turns scratching into clawing, as the violence within Felix responds to the show of it here. His fingers sweep down Locus' back and along his sides, over muscle and ribs, then back up against his abdomen. The shirt's a fucking problem. Felix wants it gone but that's too much time away from Locus' mouth and skin. His thumbs pass over the edges of his chest, then cross his back and slide into his hair. He tugs on a handful of hair, yanking himself away from Locus' mouth just long enough to inhale a gulp of air, but on the way back to his lips, Felix takes a detour.
He isn't thinking of marking him. Not consciously. But maybe his subconscious took a hint from the grip Locus has on his hip, because Felix finds the side of his throat, gives it a wet, open-mouthed kiss, then bites him, sinking his teeth in and sucking hard enough to bruise. ]
[ There's a part of him, the part that is so hellbent on self-flagellation, that whispers he shouldn't be doing this. That he shouldn't be taking carnal pleasures, no matter how willing the other person is. But, it's a tiny part right now. A mere whisper inside the gale force winds of a hurricane and Locus can't even pretend to care or hear it right now. Later he might reflect and wonder if this was the right thing to do. But, with Felix's short nails clawing at his skin, it's kind of hard to really give a damn.
He almost snarls—whether out of annoyance or desire or a mixture of both—when Felix pulls away. Sure, they need to breathe, but for every second this stops, is a second Locus' conscious mind ticks back into control. It's kind of nice not thinking about anything and just taking. Giving. Being in this moment and enjoying things for once.
Likely he should have expected Felix to bite him. He's like a wild animal—feral and unrestrained. Locus makes a noise that's half an exhale and half a grunt. He's not even sure if he likes it just yet, but he's not ready to tell Felix to stop. That probably speaks for itself. It's an involuntary movement at first, the way Locus' hips grind harshly down against Felix, but then he just goes with it. It still feels good. He still likes it. Eventually he'll get Felix back for this. But, all he can do right now is shift his hand further down Felix's thigh, gripping hard there, too. Purposely doing it hard so there will be his finger-sized bruises there. ]
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no subject
Closing up the house after they leave, he heads down the walkway to the car he's acquired here. He could say they share it, but he doesn't like Felix driving it. Getting inside, he starts it up and drives them into town. There's trees at the grocery stores all over, and truthfully Locus doesn't really care one way or the other, but they squabble over it for a few minutes before they find a nursery with bigger and better trees. That they leave with one eight feet tall is a little daunting. Not to mention he just thinks it's stupid to be this big and it's just kind of weird to be so normal.
Isn't it?
He stops at the steak place to pick up whatever Felix ordered earlier and then sets them on the course for home. Of course, once they get there, he realizes there's no treestand, so back out they go to get one. It's annoying going into the store any time of the year, but around the holidays...
Suffice to say, they made it out without any incidents so. There's that.
Finally back home, Locus fights with the tree to get it into the stand and then settles it in by the window in the front. His hair is a mess, there's sap all over his hands and clothes, little fir tree needles are all over the floor. This is some kind of hell on earth. It smells nice, though. Locus stands there staring at this monster of a tree, blinking slowly at it and then sighs. ]
I don't think we have enough to decorate it.
no subject
Felix isn't completely useless during the Christmas Tree Battle of 2015. ( Or is it 2016? He can't remember. ) He gets in there to position the stand while Locus fights to hold the tree up and straight. He puts water in the thing afterward and then divests them both of the bugs that fell out of the tree while they were struggling with it. And he's even volunteered to vacuum, once he realized how much of a fucking mess trees make.
None of this was on the TV shows he'd watched earlier. ]
I don't know. [ Felix eyes the pile of decorations and lights he bought earlier, then shifts his gaze to the tree. ] We might? Maybe? [ Maybe not. ] We can go out to that all-night megastore thing once we're done and pick up more shit if we need it?
[ By then, maybe the crowds will be nonexistent and the experience won't be as aggravating. Felix glances at Locus, then gets stuck in some mental feedback loop where he keeps trying to look away and can't quite manage it. Locus looks like he fought the tree and lost. There's a hunk of hair doing gravity-defying feats at the back of his head that suggests the involvement of tree sap and it shouldn't be attractive or entertaining, but it is and Felix can't stand himself for the stupid way it makes him feel to see it. ]
I mean, so far so good...
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Locus is staring at the tree like it killed his entire family and then some, unsure of if he wants to decorate it or incinerate it. Especially at the thought of going back out to one of those stores. Maybe if they go in the middle of the night it won't be as bad. Maybe. He sighs and drags the back of his wrist over his forehead. It's around that time he feels Felix staring at him and he looks over, brows raised in question. ]
What?
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[ He'd probably be mobbed every time he left the house, which Felix knows he'd hate. But he can just imagine the crowds of starry-eyed women lining up for autographs and pictures. And his own subsequent murder spree once it gets to be too much for his miniscule patience.
Shaking his head, Felix pulls himself out of that bizarre daydream and snaps his fingers. ]
I think we need an eggnog break before we tackle decorating. It's apparently the drink of Christmas. [ He wrinkles his nose. ] I just hope it tastes better than it sounds. I'll be right back.
[ He's just through the doorway when he leans back into the living room and points to Locus, finally answering the question in a more informative manner. ]
You have sap in your hair. At the back. There's a... [ Making a fiddly little gesture that describes nothing, he pulls his phone out his pocket and takes a picture. It's just easier. He tosses it to Locus with a stern; ] Don't you dare delete that.
[ Then he disappears into the kitchen to get refreshments. ]
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The look he gives Felix speaks of that much. He's still wearing that look—eggnog, really???—as he turns to face him. Which is a good thing as Felix's phone comes sailing toward him in the next moment. It's caught easily and he turns it to look at the photo. Sure enough, his hair is doing something impressive and a frown pulls at his lips. This is why he wants to cut it. His eyes close as he sighs, knowing this isn't going to be fun to get out. Without meaning to, he opens the camera roll and when he looks back, something catches his eye.
Well. Not something. Someone. Namely, himself.
There are dozens and dozens of pictures in here that he doesn't remember being asked to take. He flips through them with a morbid curiosity and tries to objectively look at himself. But even then he can't see what Felix does. Before he knows it, he's following Felix into the kitchen and sets it down on the counter. It's right there on the tip of his tongue to ask why there are so many and to knock it off, but that never manifests. ]
Will you help me get it out?
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At the sound of Locus' voice, Felix glances over his shoulder. His eyebrows lift, slightly surprised by the request to help, but he isn't about to say no. ]
Yeah, sure.
[ Setting the carton down, he steps to the side, twists around, and vaults up onto the counter. It'll just be easier to do it if he's sitting up higher. Felix leans sideways to reach the sink, snags a paper towel, and wets it. As he straightens, he grabs the hand soap. ]
Come here. [ Spreading his legs so Locus can lean against the counter, Felix gestures toward the space between them. It's all very professional for once, no inappropriate looks or comments offered. ] And turn around.
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Locus doesn't know how to do that though.
He moves closer, fitting himself between Felix's legs and looks at him briefly before turning around. He hesitates, thankfully he's facing away so it can't be seen, but eventually he carefully rests his arms against Felix's thighs. This is fine, right? Normal. Why he's thinking about it now when he wouldn't have if this was out in the field is stupid. He knows that. But he doesn't know how to not be conscious of it either.
Whatever. He's not going to think about it.
Which means he relaxes back as much as anyone can against a counter digging into their back. Locus' attention shifts to his hand curled slightly over Felix's knee. Slowly he rubs his thumb back and forth along where it bends, just above the cap. ]
I think I might get a haircut; a trim at least. Getting too long.
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Just don't buzz it off. [ Current task momentarily shuffled to the backburner, Felix combs his fingers through the hair. Then does it again, ostensibly smoothing it out to make the sap removal easier. In reality, he's just touching it before Locus brutually murders it. ] That would be a crime against all that is nice in the universe.
[ Getting back to business, he puts a little bit of soap onto his fingers and works it into the sap. Probably it's what Locus is doing to his knee that prompts him to thoughtlessly continue talking. ]
Seriously. Think of all the people that see you every day. Their lives are probably boring and shitty, but for the few minutes they get to see you they're probably really fucking happy they got out of bed. [ He pauses, considering. Then he adds, grinning with a vindictive sense of spite; ] And also bitterly jealous because they aren't fucking you and think you're married to some gorgeous supermodel they could never top.
[ It's a shame Locus doesn't like posting shit to the internet. Felix is sure they could get a huge following if he posted all of those pictures he's been taking of Locus to that popular picture site. ]
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I don't care what they think.
[ Truth. He doesn't care one stitch of what people think about him. If he did, he'd act more like Felix. He'd make an effort to be personable. But, he just doesn't care. Maybe he should and maybe that would make things easier here, but. He's not looking to change. ]
And you shouldn't either. They don't matter.
[ He could leave it at that, because it's just conversational. He's not scolding, just speaking blandly. None of them matter as far as he's concerned. But, he doesn't say just that. He turns slightly to get a look at Felix. ]
I'm with you. Who I share a bed with is no concern of anyone but us. [ Leon, too, probably because he's annoying. But. ] Who I share anything with is of no concern to anyone else, either.
[ He turns back around, that hand squeezing tighter against Felix's leg for a brief moment before his thumb resumes that motion again. ]
They aren't important and you shouldn't think they are, either.
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[ If people mattered, Felix wouldn't kill them as easily as he does. He might feel a tiny bit of remorse or guilt or something for all the things he's done. But he doesn't. Because people don't matter.
Most of the ones that did are dead. Or standing here in the kitchen with him. Or destroying his house. Is it a problem that Leon is more of a person to him than actual people? Felix doesn't know. He doesn't really care either. ]
But I like messing with them. [ He scrubs a bit vigorously at the sap, taking care not to pull Locus' hair, then picks up the paper towel and wipes up the mess. ] And I like that you get attention.
[ Dropping the paper towel, he starts separating strands of hair to make sure there isn't any residue left. So far, so good. ]
I know you don't like it and I don't mean people bugging you. I mean the appreciation. You act like you're some kind of, I don't know, Gúta or something and I keep hoping that all the lustful staring will get through to you eventually. You're a good looking man, Sam. You need to stop thinking you aren't.
[ All the hair checks out. Felix smoothes it all down, fingercombing it back into place. ]
Sap's out. [ He pats him on the shoulders. ] You should probably wash your hands now. Before you handle the ornaments. Or the cookies. You have to at least try the cookies and the eggnog. Twenty-first century Christmas rules demand it.
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Is it possible people have and he just has no idea?
No, probably not. Felix is a lot of things, but he's not looking anywhere else.
He snorts a very soft sound that's, well, amusement. There's no other way to explain it. Locus doesn't laugh a lot, but it's still something that can happen. Once or twice a year. ]
No you don't. You got jealous just today when I was counting with Traci. Your friend. Who has "appreciated" me.
[ And just the way he says that means that: yes, he's heard the gossip sessions she and Felix have.
He turns around but doesn't move away. Likely he should and wash his hands off so they're less sticky and gross. But, that gives him time away from the moment and he's trying to live inside those, think less and act more. That's why he leans in, leaving both hands settled on Felix's pants, and presses a lingering kiss against Felix's mouth. ]
Thanks.
[ For the sap cleaning. It's a low murmur against his lips before Locus does pull away then. His hands stick a little to Felix's pants but he gets them off and moves over to the sink to wash up. Not feeling awkward at all. ]
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And he's getting ready to point that out when Locus kisses him. It's so surprising that he actually makes a faint, albeit muffled, gasping noise before his eyelids slide closed and he just sort of... melts into it. Then Locus is gone and he's still sitting there, prying his eyes open and feeling like a tornado just dropped him into the middle of Oz. ]
I... [ Words? He clears his throat. ] Sure. Um, any time.
[ Once they start, the words keep coming as he slides off the counter. ]
You know, you get sap in your hair or... [ Oh my God, get it together you fucking idiot. ] Or whatever.
[ Maybe there's a little trip there as he gets himself sorted out, but he grabs the counter and nonchalantly pretends nothing happened. Which leaves him standing there doing nothing a second too long. Goddamn it. Turning around, he quickly fills up the glasses with eggnog and holds it out to Locus as he's finishing up with his hand washing. ]
Here. You go first. Tell me if it's terrible.
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Locus fusses with his hair for a fleeting moment, securing it back in a haphazard sort of bun. Then takes the glass with a sigh. And gives Felix a suspicious sort of look. With a quick sigh he lifts it up to his mouth and takes a drink.
—it's not as bad as he was expecting. And that shows clearly on his face. Also probably helps that he doesn't gag and immediately spit it out all over the floor. One shoulder rolls in a shrug as he sets it down then starts picking around the cookies to find one that he'd like. ]
It's not terrible. Missing something, though.
[ Like alcohol and a touch of nutmeg!! ]
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That didn't taste as bad as I thought it would. I was expecting something more... eggy.
[ Rooting around in the cabinet, he pulls out a bottle of bourbon, considers it, then sets it back in favor of the whiskey. He pours a little of that into the eggnog, takes another sip, and nods. ]
Okay, that's better. Here. [ Locus' cup gets a shot of whiskey before Felix puts it back and puts the carton of eggnog away ] Come on. Bring the cookies. I guarantee decorating the tree will be more fun if we're drinking.
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Dutifully, he picks up the plate of cookies and follows Felix out into the living room. They're set down on the coffee table along with his drink. On a second thought, he picks a few off and eats them. They're not that good, but they're good enough. They kind of remind him of the crap sweets from the corner store. He regards the tree thoughtfully while he chews, then carefully brushes off any fallen crumbs from his fingers and shirt. Then he looks to the mess of bags and boxes of tree decorations. ]
I suppose we should begin with the lights.
[ That seems most logical. ]
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Handing the first string of lights to Locus without incident, he proceeds to dump the rest out of their boxes into a pile. Fishing around for the end of the last string to be unboxed inexplicably ends up causing a huge tangle. How this happens, Felix doesn't know, but he drains his eggnog quickly and tries to sort it out before Locus gets done hanging the first batch of lights.
He fails.
Which is why, when Locus finishes with the tree and turns for the next strand, Felix is sitting in the middle of a mess, looking personally offended by the lights. And since he knows what's coming, he glares defiance at Locus. ]
This is so not my fucking fault.
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But he's not mad. Not really. There's no point. Felix should just left well enough alone and they could have proceeded as they did the first one. Locus should have known better.
Or maybe it's just demon lights. What does he know? Because he tries to help and somehow they wind up in a bigger mess. Everything is far more tangled than it ought to be with them in the middle of it. Locus tries to move out of the tangled knot one way and it only serves to further entangle him until he's pressed flush against Felix. If either of them move the wrong way, the whole string will go!!! Probably.
Either way, they're stuck for the moment and all Locus can focus on is how sweet Felix smells because of the eggnog and cookies. His gaze slips down to Felix's mouth, lingers for a moment the drifts back up. His voice is a low murmur when he finally speaks; ]
I don't think this is how decorating is supposed to go.
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Maybe, maybe, if Locus had kept his attention at eye level, Felix could have mustered some shred of something and kept his mouth to himself. But he catches the trajectory of Locus' gaze and, honestly, he's never been one to practice impulse control. ]
Could be worse. [ Probably is going to be worse in a few seconds, because his moody reservations about everything are forgotten in the moment. ] Fuck it.
[ There's nothing gentle about it. Felix grabs a fistful of Locus' shirt, not giving a damn if he breaks anything, and yanks him into a kiss. It's hard and desperate and for once he doesn't care about what Locus thinks of him for it. He just wants and he's tired of denying it. ]
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Felix takes care of that for him now, though. After a small hesitation—out of surprise and nothing more—Locus kisses him back. Like everything else he does, he makes sure he's performing at optimal capacity. A hand slips through Felix's hair, tangling in the strands and making a slight noise at the fact it's sticky with product. He shifts down to the buzzed side instead and draws his blunt nails through. His other hand tries to pick off a string of lights from around them but eventually just gives up that particular ghost and grips Felix's thigh over them. He tastes Felix's mouth and for once he tastes as sweet as he smells. For whatever reason, Locus likes that. Wants more of it. So he unabashedly strokes his tongue into Felix's mouth, clearly not ready for this to stop anytime soon. ]
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He makes a low, throaty sound of pleasure when Locus' fingers scratch over his scalp, the shorter hairs making his skin more sensitive somehow. No examine; he lets himself feel it without questioning it. An instant later, that sound becomes a frustrated whine of irritation as he tries to get his hand up higher than it is and encounters resistance from the lights.
A haphazard struggle ensues, though he neither lets Locus go nor stops kissing him. It just makes him a wriggly, frustrated mess and probably breaks a lightbulb or two. Sucking on Locus' tongue takes precedence over trying to get his hands on him better; giving himself over to that, Felix hooks a foot over Locus' leg and calls it a day. More contact, whatever form it takes, is better than less.
The hand not still fisted in Locus' shirt rucks up the bottom and weasels its way to warm skin. Flexing his fingers, Felix digs his nails in, scratching as he leaves off sucking for biting at Locus' lip. There's still a desperate edge to it that he can't temper. When this will come, if it will, he doesn't know. He just knows that he has to take as much as he can before it's over. ]
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At least he does until he feels Felix's hand against his skin. That stirs something in him, more so at the bite of his nails. He makes a low, pleased sound and in the next instant, he's reaching for the knife he knows Felix has on him. It's always there. And he's not disappointed this time. The kiss is broken only briefly as Locus impatiently and quickly slices through the wires. Fuck the lights. They can get more later. The wires slacken and Locus brushes off what's right in front of him, then stretches to set the knife on the coffee table. A moment later and he's pressing Felix down to the floor and capturing his lips for another kiss, one hand curling around Felix's hip while his opposite forearm keeps him braced above him. ]
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He hears that noise, recognizes the action that spawned it, and he's all set to do it again when Locus pulls back. The protest he's about to make dies on his tongue as he realizes what he's doing, and holy fucking Christ, it's hot. It probably shouldn't be. He's seen Locus use knives countless times before. Just never in this context before.
By the time Locus gets the wires off and is pushing him down, Felix is rock hard and so aroused it's a wonder he doesn't tear the shirt off of him with his bare hands. Or come in his pants, though that possibility isn't as far off as he would like.
Free of the lights, Felix gets his hands on him again, up under his shirt so fast he probably scratches him simply getting the fabric out of the way. Then he's dragging his fingernails up his back, touching territory that isn't unfamiliar—he's patched him up too many times not to be familiar with how his body looks and feels—but new nonetheless. Rough, impatient sounds get muffled by Locus' mouth as Felix tries to either press up against him, hard to do with Locus hanging onto his hip like that, or pull him down.
There's air between them. That's entirely too much space. ]
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So, he does. Locus relaxes ( for him ) against Felix. The hand on his hip slides further up his body as he does so, dragging up his side. Felix is so familiar to him, but this is new to him, too. Involuntarily his hips twitch, grinding against Felix briefly, as the pass of his nails moves over his skin. Neither one of them were made for soft and gentle things. Might as well follow that idea.
Locus pinches Felix's bottom lip between his teeth, just this side of too hard and doesn't bother attempting to soothe it at all. His hand makes its way back to Felix's hip and he squeezes tight with a bruising grip. It might leave some form of mark behind. It's not that he means to do it, but he also kind of does. All the while his hips seem to move of their own accord and he can feel Felix hard against him. While he's not fully hard, yet, himself, it's definitely well on its way to happening. ]
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Automatically, he rocks back against him, wanting more, body practically starved for it. He probably should have done something about that, but when he'd arrived he wasn't really feeling up to getting laid, hadn't wanted to pay for it when he was, stopped thinking about it when he and Locus started this thing, and hasn't been in the mood to jerk off lately. And now that dry spell is coming back to haunt him.
The sharp pinch of Locus' teeth turns scratching into clawing, as the violence within Felix responds to the show of it here. His fingers sweep down Locus' back and along his sides, over muscle and ribs, then back up against his abdomen. The shirt's a fucking problem. Felix wants it gone but that's too much time away from Locus' mouth and skin. His thumbs pass over the edges of his chest, then cross his back and slide into his hair. He tugs on a handful of hair, yanking himself away from Locus' mouth just long enough to inhale a gulp of air, but on the way back to his lips, Felix takes a detour.
He isn't thinking of marking him. Not consciously. But maybe his subconscious took a hint from the grip Locus has on his hip, because Felix finds the side of his throat, gives it a wet, open-mouthed kiss, then bites him, sinking his teeth in and sucking hard enough to bruise. ]
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He almost snarls—whether out of annoyance or desire or a mixture of both—when Felix pulls away. Sure, they need to breathe, but for every second this stops, is a second Locus' conscious mind ticks back into control. It's kind of nice not thinking about anything and just taking. Giving. Being in this moment and enjoying things for once.
Likely he should have expected Felix to bite him. He's like a wild animal—feral and unrestrained. Locus makes a noise that's half an exhale and half a grunt. He's not even sure if he likes it just yet, but he's not ready to tell Felix to stop. That probably speaks for itself. It's an involuntary movement at first, the way Locus' hips grind harshly down against Felix, but then he just goes with it. It still feels good. He still likes it. Eventually he'll get Felix back for this. But, all he can do right now is shift his hand further down Felix's thigh, gripping hard there, too. Purposely doing it hard so there will be his finger-sized bruises there. ]
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