[ 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. ]
[ Mine, Felix thinks. Mine. Mine. Mine. It's like a recording caught in a loop, background noise that melts into the rhythm of his rapidly beating heart. He'd probably say it, too. Hiss it out between biting and kissing his way across Locus' throat. But Locus presses against him just right and words disintegrate in a low moan.
His hips rock back up against Locus' without conscious direction from his mind. It feels too fucking good to stop and after the first few wild thrusts, he finds a better, smoother pace. There are going to be bruises from the grip Locus has on him. Just that dim realization makes him groan and the sloppy path of his mouth veer sharply upwards to his mouth. He manages one kiss, hard and possessive. ]
Sam. [ It comes out thick with wanting, almost hoarse, and slurred as he tries to speak and kiss him at the same time. ] God, Sam, I—
[ There's really nothing that heralds it. The rhythmic motion of his hips stutters as the gradually intensifying sensation explodes unexpectedly into mind numbing orgasm. Felix makes a strangled sounding gasp, his fingers clutching against Locus' back as he goes momentarily rigid. It doesn't last long, but it's still a change from the frenetic pace a few seconds ago.
Mortified even through the dulled haze of pleasure, Felix makes a thin whine of discontent and goes back to kissing Locus even more vehemently than before. It's stupid when dealing with someone so observant, but he really hopes Locus hasn't noticed—he's a grown ass man who shouldn't be coming in his pants like a goddamn teenager—or that if he has, he can distract him from it so that he forgets. ]
[ It does feel good and that's... almost a little scary to Locus. Feeling good isn't something he's used to. Typically he just feels a whole lot of nothing. This is like some entirely new experience. Vaguely he can remember in the past, doing things like this with other people and just doing it for the sake of getting off. Mutually beneficial. It probably felt good then, too. But, it's been so long that he's forgotten what it feels like, so this is almost like some new experience.
Almost.
Because he still recognizes the signs of when things are shifting too far into one direction. Locus can hear it in the shredded way Felix's voice sounds, feel it in the way his body moves. Something is happening and before Locus can realize it or attempt to curb it from happening, it happens.
For the first time since Locus was a kid, he feels like actually laughing. He doesn't, because he's forgotten how it works, but there's a nostalgic feeling inside him. It's not that he's laughing at Felix—God forbid, he'd never hear the end of it—but the situation. That they've been rutting on the floor like they're half their ages; rutting to the point Felix got too overwhelmed and came too soon.
What he does do is exhale a breath, tipping his head slightly to break the kiss. His hair finally gives up attempting to stay held in the tie and spills over, curtaining them off on one side. Though Locus slows his hips to an eventual stop, he doesn't move from where he is and doesn't stop clutching tightly on to Felix's thigh. He pulls back enough so he can look at him, his eyes darkened by what they've been doing and lips slick from their kisses. HIs thumb twitches slightly and he clears his throat. Though he speaks low, a murmur really, there's still a different quality to his voice that's certainly never been there before when talking to Felix. ]
Why are you always in such a rush?
[ It's so fucking dry, even through the lust of the moment. Locus doesn't tease, but. Sometimes it's okay to make a joke at Felix's expense...! ]
[ This is beyond embarrassing. Felix can't remember the last time he's been this mortified or disgusted with himself. Because now that he's finally getting what he's been wanting, his stupid fucking body has to ruin it. He doesn't want to stop, but because his life is a goddamn joke, he just knows they're going to.
When Locus breaks the kiss and pulls back, Felix very nearly screams in frustration. It just isn't fair. His face feels like it's on fire and it just gets hotter after he cracks open a wary eye and sees Locus looking at him. This is it. This is when he's going to have to bolt, barricade himself in his house, and drink until he can't remember what his name is.
It's really fucking hard to look Locus in the eyes. His own keep trying to jerk to the side, forcing him to squint to keep the focused where they need to be. Locus' tone is bizarre. He doesn't know how to interpret it and he's torn between shrinking back against the floor or defensively puffing up and going on the offense. ]
That wasn't intentional. [ It's a low hiss. ] I didn't— [ His grip on himself breaks and his gaze slips sideways. Now would be a great time for the floor to eat him. ] I'm better than this.
[ His attention snaps back to Locus' face and he takes a tighter hold on him. ]
I am. We don't have to stop. I can take care of you. I swear to fucking god it'll be good.
[ Honestly, at this point, Locus wouldn't really understand why or how there could be any embarrassment between them. ( At a later time he might fully come to understand Felix's feelings in this moment, but right now... no. ) After everything they've done and been through, it just seems a little... silly.
It's strange to see Felix like this. His face is red and Locus knows it's a combination of embarrassment and anger. Not really a look he's used to seeing on Felix's face. Without even realizing what he's doing, Locus shifts his hand up Felix's body until he runs the tips of his fingers over the sharp line of his cheek. Warmer here, but that's expected.
For a few moments Locus doesn't really know what to say. His mind is silently working in the background while the foreground unhelpfully remains quiet for probably a little bit too long. Then, something happens and Locus clears his throat. The hand on Felix's face shifts to curl around the side of his throat. ]
I never said we were going to stop. [ He's not going to bother replying to Felix being better than this. That's not something that even factors in to this right now. His eyes flick over toward the stairs, the intention further still the bedroom. More specifically, the master bath. ] Location can be moved for more... comfort.
[ Because who hasn't had sticky pants before? It's not that great. Locus knows. ]
[ What he's expecting is Locus to decide that he's coming to his senses, push him away, stand up, and go back to decorating the tree like nothing happened. Like an episode of temporary insanity that's thankfully cleared up before too much damage gets done. But what he gets is...
Locus is touching his face. Why is Locus touching his face? He doesn't get it and that uncertainty, that inability to figure out what Locus is doing and why, distracts him from his embarrassment. He looks up at him, searching his face for clues, but he's not saying anything or doing anything else. Felix starts to get restless, wants to move but can't because he's sure moving's just going to remind Locus that he doesn't want to do this anymore.
And then... ]
You—Really?
[ Stammering surprise isn't suave and attractive, but Felix is so floored—pun not intended—by not only the revelation that Locus doesn't want to quit but also the insinuation that they move it elsewhere that he can't check the reaction. Or the stupid, hopeful way he looks at him before he realizes he's doing it and wipes it off of his face. ]
Yes. Okay. Yes. [ Tipping his head sideways and turning just so, Felix presses a kiss to the inside of Locus' wrist without taking his eyes of him. Then, because he wants to do it and there's no reason not to, he licks the skin beneath his lips. ] Anywhere. It'll be worth it. I promise.
[ It's small moments like these that Locus doesn't know how to take. Felix can hide himself if he wishes, but then there are times he's terrible at it and Locus can see emotions flicker across his face before he can wrestle himself under control. Like there's still parts of Isaac in there that haven't been completely and utterly warped. In those moments, he can't help but wonder if Felix looks at him and sees if there's anything left of Sam.
He won't ask, though. He can't. Wouldn't even know how to do such a thing. And knows it would just wind up turning into an argument because Locus wouldn't know how to phrase it right and Felix would take it as a slight. There's so much work to be done between them. Sometimes he wonders if they'll even cover a fraction of that.
Not right now, though. Surprisingly, he's being led by far more carnal thoughts. Which, while isn't something entirely new, it's something that's been dormant for a long time.
Locus wets his lips without even realizing what he's done as he watches Felix beneath him. All at once a million things and not one single thing flit through his mind. It's the strangest feeling and he doesn't think he could quite describe it if anyone asked him. Mentally shaking himself out of that momentary pause, he pushes himself up off the floor and from on top of Felix. It's such an easy thing to hold his hand out to help him up that he doesn't even think about it. ]
I don't doubt it.
[ Once Felix is up, Locus lets go and makes for the stairs. If he stalls or starts thinking too much, he'll talk himself out of this. And, he's pretty certain that's something he doesn't want to do. So, he doesn't falter. He walks as sure as he does when he has a purpose right to the bathroom, snapping on the light and followed by turning the water on. While it heats, he begins to disrobe; it's not seductive in nature, yet he's not meticulous about the clothes. They land where they fall and by the time he's completely naked, the flagging erection from walking and distance isn't so flagging any longer.
He pays it no mind and just steps into the shower to acclimate himself to the heat of the water. He hisses softly as the water moves over his cock, but he restrains himself from doing anything about it. Not like it's the first time he's purposely ignored arousal of any kind, probably won't be the last. Likely he should probably say something, but considering he doesn't really know what to say, he just turns an expectant look toward Felix. ]
[ Felix isn't a hundred percent clear on where they're going or what he has in mind, though it doesn't really matter. Whatever Locus wants to do anywhere he wants to do it is fine with him. He isn't completely tasteless and trashy where sex is concerned, whatever anyone might say about him, but he's happy to cast aside any and all standards or preferences for the opportunity to finally have some kind of sexual physical contact with Locus. It's probably desperate and pathetic, but quite frankly, he doesn't care about that either.
Much as he doesn't want it to happen, he's expecting Locus to change his mind by the time they get upstairs, so it's an extremely pleasant surprise to be led into the bathroom and see him start to undress without any hesitation. If this is what some eggnog and tree decorating results in, Felix thinks with slightly hysterical glee, they're going to do it every goddamn month.
It's without a hint of shame that Felix watches him get naked. He's seen Locus in so may various stages of undress, but this is different. Very different, he realixes, when Locus turns and he sees that he's hard. The rush of some inexplicable feeling stronger than simple arousal momentarily blanks his mind, drives out everything and leaves him standing there staring in open hunger. It's only when he senses Locus looking at him that he snaps his gaze up to his face.
He winces a little sheepishly at being caught just standing around like an idiot and hastily yanks off his shirt. If he thought Locus would appreciate it, he'd make a show out of it, but he doubts he would and the lingering fear that Locus will change his mind prevents him from dawdling. His pants follow, kicked off to join the shirt on the floor. The boxers go a moment later.
And as he unexpectedly discovers, there's nothing quite as embarrassing as getting an invitation to join the man he's been fantasizing about for almost half his life in the shower for sexual purposes and having a limp dick.
It's not for lack of interest. If lust was capable of overcoming biology, Felix would likely spend ninety-five percent of his life sporting an erection because of Locus. But he isn't as young as he used to be and he can't recover that quickly. Not even the sight of Locus' cock hard and glistening with water from the shower can get his own up. And trust that Felix has been wondering what Locus looks like hard for as long as he's known him. ]
Sam. [ Reassurance that he's interested probably isn't necessary, but as Felix steps into the shower, he finds himself trying to make up for his uncooperative dick anyway. There isn't a huge amount of room in here, which is all the encouragement he needs to skim his hand over Locus' hip. ] If this isn't an invitation to suck you off, I need you to tell me right now. Otherwise I'm not going to be capable of thinking of anything else.
[ Well, to be fair, it's not the first time Locus has caught Felix standing around like an idiot and absorbed in his own world. Not really the first time he's caught Felix staring at him like that, either. It's still a little strange and no matter how often he looks at himself in the mirror, he just doesn't see whatever it is that Felix thinks he sees.
That Felix doesn't dawdle is good, because while Locus might not be on the verge of saying no to what's currently happening, he might. Locus isn't the sort to play games no matter the situation, so he thinks that might extend to this, too. Maybe not. Maybe were he in a more giving mood, he might appreciate Felix making some sort of spectacle of himself solely for Locus' enjoyment. Something for another day, at least.
Once Felix is in with him, Locus pulls the curtain closed. Now things feel a little too real and he's wondering just what he was thinking. There's a split second where he wonders if he should stop this, but it passes. He's always passing on everything related to his own wellbeing and personal feelings. He needs to keep working on it. On everything. So, he doesn't tell Felix to get out, nor does Locus leave. In fact, one of the main reasons he doesn't react negatively is remembering what happened downstairs and why they're here in the first place. He doesn't think poorly over Felix's current state of non-arousal compared to his own. They're not teenagers anymore in spite of how they argue like them often.
That touch of Felix's hand against his hip makes his muscle twitch and unconsciously he wets his lips. This, right here and now, is some sort of turning point. He can recognize that still. A hand lifts and he mirrors the touch to Felix's side but drops his hand away. ]
Go ahead.
[ It's the best he can do; he's not much for sweet-talk. ]
[ It's probably the most unenthusiastic acceptance of an offer to give a blowjob that he's ever gotten. Felix isn't expecting effusive excitement from Locus by any means, but it sounds more like he's telling him to get on with shining his shoes than sucking his cock. He blinks, a little taken aback, though whether it's the delivery or that Locus has said yes at all is impossible to determine.
There's an art to giving excellent head and Felix prides himself on his skills in this area. But at the moment, he's a little uncertain how to proceed. The teasing seduction he would ordinarily begin with likely runs the risk of taking too long and making Locus change his mind. And even if it doesn't, Felix doesn't know if he would appreciate it. Locus likes efficiency. Maybe he wants him to hurry it up and get it over with.
He doesn't dither over it for long. That too runs the risk of cutting this short or worse, planting the seed in Locus' mind that this isn't something he wants to do in the first place. Which couldn't be further from the truth. Despite how much it irks his pride, Felix ignores the myriad possibilities that the canvas of Locus' body offers and sinks down onto his knees, the hand on Locus' hip now necessary for stabilizing himself. The bathtub—Acrylic? Fiberglass? Felix doesn't know what these old tubs are made from—is still cold and not overly comfortable under his knobby knees, but he shoves that and the thought that he's probably getting to old for this stuff out of his mind.
It's weirdly, stupidly daunting to be faced with Locus' cock after years of fantasizing about it. Felix looks at it for a moment, unconsciously committing the sight to memory, then gives himself a mental kick in the ass and wraps his free hand around it just beneath the head. His thumb absently rubs over the tip as he slides his palm along the shaft, getting a feel for it. He looks up, still sliding his hand up and down in long slow strokes, searching Locus' face for clues to what's going on behind his eyes. ]
All right so far? [ He doesn't need the reassurance; the day Felix loses his way around a dick is the day he needs to give up having sex. It's for Locus' benefit, reassurance that if he isn't enjoying it Felix will stop. ] Just tell me what works and what doesn't.
[ The longer Felix takes, the more Locus begins to doubt the idea of this being a good one. Maybe Felix is having second thoughts, too. Is this a good idea? Is this going to complicate things more? Could they even possibly be more complicated?? Locus doesn't really know and that still makes him feel off-kilter.
So lost in his own tangled web of thoughts, he doesn't realize that Felix goes down to his knees. He's shaken out of his momentary stupor when he feels the foreign touch of another hand on his cock. Locus lets out a drawn exhale to keep himself steady. It's just been so long since he's done this himself, let alone letting someone else do it for him. It's not the worst feeling in the world.
He doesn't answer right away when the question comes and instead he stares somewhere into the middle distance. Yes, this is strange. There's no way around that. But he can either let that bother him to the point of ending this. Or he can just let go and enjoy himself in the ways he should be.
But enjoyment comes so hard to a man like Locus.
So, he makes a decision to just approach this like he would any normal task. Not that he means to, but it's the best way to cope with a change he doesn't know how to make. He takes charge of the situation. ]
Isaac.
[ It's sharp but... there's something else there. Not as severe as it normally could have been, perhaps. And something else Locus hasn't quite named yet.
One hand shifts to Felix's head, settling on top where his longer hair is becoming slick from the water. It trails down so his fingers curl around the back of his ear and his thumb moves with a purpose over the hinge of his jaw. ]
[ This going... Felix isn't sure. Locus is just standing there like he's trying to perfect his robot impression and that's the opposite of what they're going for here. There'd been a little reaction when he touched him! Felix knows he heard that exhaled breath and refuses to let himself be convinced that he imagined it. But Jesus Christ.
While Locus studies the water droplet patterns on the back of the shower or whatever the fuck he's doing, Felix internally flounders. Keep going? Stop? Pinch him and see if the pain brings him back to the present? That last one's tempting if only because Locus is either revolted by him, which is insulting, or pretending he's never had his dick touched, which is stupid. Goddamn it, would you just—
The bark of his name jolts him out of it and stills his hand. That's—Is it a reprimand to stop? He can't tell. Locus' voice sounds weird, but that could just be the acoustics of the bathroom. Or Felix slowly becoming traumatized by the fiasco of trying to perform a very simple task.
He almost snaps that he doesn't need any backseat blowjob advice. He knows how to do it, unlike some people. But something—more than likely it's the way Locus touches him, which comes as a surprise—makes him hold his tongue. Slowly, he opens his fingers, not jerking his hand back into his own space but releasing Locus' cock just the same. If he's reading him right, and by now he feels like that's a pretty big fucking if, he assumes he's going to need to get his hand out of the way. Then he opens his mouth as bid, feeling kind of stupid but willing to see where this is going. His eyebrows rise in what he hopes is a clear signal: Go ahead. ]
[ All right. This isn't terrible. Felix listens without complaint and that's a good sign. Locus isn't going to guide him completely, morbid curiosity has him wanting to know what Felix does when he's like this. But he has to have some measure of control. Why? He doesn't really know. Just that he needs it. Emotions and feelings—even positive ones, perhaps especially those—are difficult grounds for Locus to traverse. ( Maybe they weren't for Sam, but Locus doesn't remember who that is or things he felt. )
He moves forward slightly, his other hand moving around the base of his cock to guide it into Felix's mouth. Something like this has been even longer than a handjob. Felix's mouth is warm and slick and in spite of all the firmly gripped control, Locus feels the want for more. Experimentally he rolls his hips, just to test, just to see. He's not aiming to choke Felix, he's not aiming to fall either, though. Just the right amount of space has to be given. This will do for now.
The one hand not on Felix falls back to his side, the other gives a small nudge to the back of his head. Locus looks down at him and wets his lips, his tone low, heated. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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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His hips rock back up against Locus' without conscious direction from his mind. It feels too fucking good to stop and after the first few wild thrusts, he finds a better, smoother pace. There are going to be bruises from the grip Locus has on him. Just that dim realization makes him groan and the sloppy path of his mouth veer sharply upwards to his mouth. He manages one kiss, hard and possessive. ]
Sam. [ It comes out thick with wanting, almost hoarse, and slurred as he tries to speak and kiss him at the same time. ] God, Sam, I—
[ There's really nothing that heralds it. The rhythmic motion of his hips stutters as the gradually intensifying sensation explodes unexpectedly into mind numbing orgasm. Felix makes a strangled sounding gasp, his fingers clutching against Locus' back as he goes momentarily rigid. It doesn't last long, but it's still a change from the frenetic pace a few seconds ago.
Mortified even through the dulled haze of pleasure, Felix makes a thin whine of discontent and goes back to kissing Locus even more vehemently than before. It's stupid when dealing with someone so observant, but he really hopes Locus hasn't noticed—he's a grown ass man who shouldn't be coming in his pants like a goddamn teenager—or that if he has, he can distract him from it so that he forgets. ]
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Almost.
Because he still recognizes the signs of when things are shifting too far into one direction. Locus can hear it in the shredded way Felix's voice sounds, feel it in the way his body moves. Something is happening and before Locus can realize it or attempt to curb it from happening, it happens.
For the first time since Locus was a kid, he feels like actually laughing. He doesn't, because he's forgotten how it works, but there's a nostalgic feeling inside him. It's not that he's laughing at Felix—God forbid, he'd never hear the end of it—but the situation. That they've been rutting on the floor like they're half their ages; rutting to the point Felix got too overwhelmed and came too soon.
What he does do is exhale a breath, tipping his head slightly to break the kiss. His hair finally gives up attempting to stay held in the tie and spills over, curtaining them off on one side. Though Locus slows his hips to an eventual stop, he doesn't move from where he is and doesn't stop clutching tightly on to Felix's thigh. He pulls back enough so he can look at him, his eyes darkened by what they've been doing and lips slick from their kisses. HIs thumb twitches slightly and he clears his throat. Though he speaks low, a murmur really, there's still a different quality to his voice that's certainly never been there before when talking to Felix. ]
Why are you always in such a rush?
[ It's so fucking dry, even through the lust of the moment. Locus doesn't tease, but. Sometimes it's okay to make a joke at Felix's expense...! ]
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When Locus breaks the kiss and pulls back, Felix very nearly screams in frustration. It just isn't fair. His face feels like it's on fire and it just gets hotter after he cracks open a wary eye and sees Locus looking at him. This is it. This is when he's going to have to bolt, barricade himself in his house, and drink until he can't remember what his name is.
It's really fucking hard to look Locus in the eyes. His own keep trying to jerk to the side, forcing him to squint to keep the focused where they need to be. Locus' tone is bizarre. He doesn't know how to interpret it and he's torn between shrinking back against the floor or defensively puffing up and going on the offense. ]
That wasn't intentional. [ It's a low hiss. ] I didn't— [ His grip on himself breaks and his gaze slips sideways. Now would be a great time for the floor to eat him. ] I'm better than this.
[ His attention snaps back to Locus' face and he takes a tighter hold on him. ]
I am. We don't have to stop. I can take care of you. I swear to fucking god it'll be good.
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It's strange to see Felix like this. His face is red and Locus knows it's a combination of embarrassment and anger. Not really a look he's used to seeing on Felix's face. Without even realizing what he's doing, Locus shifts his hand up Felix's body until he runs the tips of his fingers over the sharp line of his cheek. Warmer here, but that's expected.
For a few moments Locus doesn't really know what to say. His mind is silently working in the background while the foreground unhelpfully remains quiet for probably a little bit too long. Then, something happens and Locus clears his throat. The hand on Felix's face shifts to curl around the side of his throat. ]
I never said we were going to stop. [ He's not going to bother replying to Felix being better than this. That's not something that even factors in to this right now. His eyes flick over toward the stairs, the intention further still the bedroom. More specifically, the master bath. ] Location can be moved for more... comfort.
[ Because who hasn't had sticky pants before? It's not that great. Locus knows. ]
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Locus is touching his face. Why is Locus touching his face? He doesn't get it and that uncertainty, that inability to figure out what Locus is doing and why, distracts him from his embarrassment. He looks up at him, searching his face for clues, but he's not saying anything or doing anything else. Felix starts to get restless, wants to move but can't because he's sure moving's just going to remind Locus that he doesn't want to do this anymore.
And then... ]
You—Really?
[ Stammering surprise isn't suave and attractive, but Felix is so floored—pun not intended—by not only the revelation that Locus doesn't want to quit but also the insinuation that they move it elsewhere that he can't check the reaction. Or the stupid, hopeful way he looks at him before he realizes he's doing it and wipes it off of his face. ]
Yes. Okay. Yes. [ Tipping his head sideways and turning just so, Felix presses a kiss to the inside of Locus' wrist without taking his eyes of him. Then, because he wants to do it and there's no reason not to, he licks the skin beneath his lips. ] Anywhere. It'll be worth it. I promise.
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He won't ask, though. He can't. Wouldn't even know how to do such a thing. And knows it would just wind up turning into an argument because Locus wouldn't know how to phrase it right and Felix would take it as a slight. There's so much work to be done between them. Sometimes he wonders if they'll even cover a fraction of that.
Not right now, though. Surprisingly, he's being led by far more carnal thoughts. Which, while isn't something entirely new, it's something that's been dormant for a long time.
Locus wets his lips without even realizing what he's done as he watches Felix beneath him. All at once a million things and not one single thing flit through his mind. It's the strangest feeling and he doesn't think he could quite describe it if anyone asked him. Mentally shaking himself out of that momentary pause, he pushes himself up off the floor and from on top of Felix. It's such an easy thing to hold his hand out to help him up that he doesn't even think about it. ]
I don't doubt it.
[ Once Felix is up, Locus lets go and makes for the stairs. If he stalls or starts thinking too much, he'll talk himself out of this. And, he's pretty certain that's something he doesn't want to do. So, he doesn't falter. He walks as sure as he does when he has a purpose right to the bathroom, snapping on the light and followed by turning the water on. While it heats, he begins to disrobe; it's not seductive in nature, yet he's not meticulous about the clothes. They land where they fall and by the time he's completely naked, the flagging erection from walking and distance isn't so flagging any longer.
He pays it no mind and just steps into the shower to acclimate himself to the heat of the water. He hisses softly as the water moves over his cock, but he restrains himself from doing anything about it. Not like it's the first time he's purposely ignored arousal of any kind, probably won't be the last. Likely he should probably say something, but considering he doesn't really know what to say, he just turns an expectant look toward Felix. ]
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Much as he doesn't want it to happen, he's expecting Locus to change his mind by the time they get upstairs, so it's an extremely pleasant surprise to be led into the bathroom and see him start to undress without any hesitation. If this is what some eggnog and tree decorating results in, Felix thinks with slightly hysterical glee, they're going to do it every goddamn month.
It's without a hint of shame that Felix watches him get naked. He's seen Locus in so may various stages of undress, but this is different. Very different, he realixes, when Locus turns and he sees that he's hard. The rush of some inexplicable feeling stronger than simple arousal momentarily blanks his mind, drives out everything and leaves him standing there staring in open hunger. It's only when he senses Locus looking at him that he snaps his gaze up to his face.
He winces a little sheepishly at being caught just standing around like an idiot and hastily yanks off his shirt. If he thought Locus would appreciate it, he'd make a show out of it, but he doubts he would and the lingering fear that Locus will change his mind prevents him from dawdling. His pants follow, kicked off to join the shirt on the floor. The boxers go a moment later.
And as he unexpectedly discovers, there's nothing quite as embarrassing as getting an invitation to join the man he's been fantasizing about for almost half his life in the shower for sexual purposes and having a limp dick.
It's not for lack of interest. If lust was capable of overcoming biology, Felix would likely spend ninety-five percent of his life sporting an erection because of Locus. But he isn't as young as he used to be and he can't recover that quickly. Not even the sight of Locus' cock hard and glistening with water from the shower can get his own up. And trust that Felix has been wondering what Locus looks like hard for as long as he's known him. ]
Sam. [ Reassurance that he's interested probably isn't necessary, but as Felix steps into the shower, he finds himself trying to make up for his uncooperative dick anyway. There isn't a huge amount of room in here, which is all the encouragement he needs to skim his hand over Locus' hip. ] If this isn't an invitation to suck you off, I need you to tell me right now. Otherwise I'm not going to be capable of thinking of anything else.
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That Felix doesn't dawdle is good, because while Locus might not be on the verge of saying no to what's currently happening, he might. Locus isn't the sort to play games no matter the situation, so he thinks that might extend to this, too. Maybe not. Maybe were he in a more giving mood, he might appreciate Felix making some sort of spectacle of himself solely for Locus' enjoyment. Something for another day, at least.
Once Felix is in with him, Locus pulls the curtain closed. Now things feel a little too real and he's wondering just what he was thinking. There's a split second where he wonders if he should stop this, but it passes. He's always passing on everything related to his own wellbeing and personal feelings. He needs to keep working on it. On everything. So, he doesn't tell Felix to get out, nor does Locus leave. In fact, one of the main reasons he doesn't react negatively is remembering what happened downstairs and why they're here in the first place. He doesn't think poorly over Felix's current state of non-arousal compared to his own. They're not teenagers anymore in spite of how they argue like them often.
That touch of Felix's hand against his hip makes his muscle twitch and unconsciously he wets his lips. This, right here and now, is some sort of turning point. He can recognize that still. A hand lifts and he mirrors the touch to Felix's side but drops his hand away. ]
Go ahead.
[ It's the best he can do; he's not much for sweet-talk. ]
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There's an art to giving excellent head and Felix prides himself on his skills in this area. But at the moment, he's a little uncertain how to proceed. The teasing seduction he would ordinarily begin with likely runs the risk of taking too long and making Locus change his mind. And even if it doesn't, Felix doesn't know if he would appreciate it. Locus likes efficiency. Maybe he wants him to hurry it up and get it over with.
He doesn't dither over it for long. That too runs the risk of cutting this short or worse, planting the seed in Locus' mind that this isn't something he wants to do in the first place. Which couldn't be further from the truth. Despite how much it irks his pride, Felix ignores the myriad possibilities that the canvas of Locus' body offers and sinks down onto his knees, the hand on Locus' hip now necessary for stabilizing himself. The bathtub—Acrylic? Fiberglass? Felix doesn't know what these old tubs are made from—is still cold and not overly comfortable under his knobby knees, but he shoves that and the thought that he's probably getting to old for this stuff out of his mind.
It's weirdly, stupidly daunting to be faced with Locus' cock after years of fantasizing about it. Felix looks at it for a moment, unconsciously committing the sight to memory, then gives himself a mental kick in the ass and wraps his free hand around it just beneath the head. His thumb absently rubs over the tip as he slides his palm along the shaft, getting a feel for it. He looks up, still sliding his hand up and down in long slow strokes, searching Locus' face for clues to what's going on behind his eyes. ]
All right so far? [ He doesn't need the reassurance; the day Felix loses his way around a dick is the day he needs to give up having sex. It's for Locus' benefit, reassurance that if he isn't enjoying it Felix will stop. ] Just tell me what works and what doesn't.
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So lost in his own tangled web of thoughts, he doesn't realize that Felix goes down to his knees. He's shaken out of his momentary stupor when he feels the foreign touch of another hand on his cock. Locus lets out a drawn exhale to keep himself steady. It's just been so long since he's done this himself, let alone letting someone else do it for him. It's not the worst feeling in the world.
He doesn't answer right away when the question comes and instead he stares somewhere into the middle distance. Yes, this is strange. There's no way around that. But he can either let that bother him to the point of ending this. Or he can just let go and enjoy himself in the ways he should be.
But enjoyment comes so hard to a man like Locus.
So, he makes a decision to just approach this like he would any normal task. Not that he means to, but it's the best way to cope with a change he doesn't know how to make. He takes charge of the situation. ]
Isaac.
[ It's sharp but... there's something else there. Not as severe as it normally could have been, perhaps. And something else Locus hasn't quite named yet.
One hand shifts to Felix's head, settling on top where his longer hair is becoming slick from the water. It trails down so his fingers curl around the back of his ear and his thumb moves with a purpose over the hinge of his jaw. ]
Open your mouth.
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While Locus studies the water droplet patterns on the back of the shower or whatever the fuck he's doing, Felix internally flounders. Keep going? Stop? Pinch him and see if the pain brings him back to the present? That last one's tempting if only because Locus is either revolted by him, which is insulting, or pretending he's never had his dick touched, which is stupid. Goddamn it, would you just—
The bark of his name jolts him out of it and stills his hand. That's—Is it a reprimand to stop? He can't tell. Locus' voice sounds weird, but that could just be the acoustics of the bathroom. Or Felix slowly becoming traumatized by the fiasco of trying to perform a very simple task.
He almost snaps that he doesn't need any backseat blowjob advice. He knows how to do it, unlike some people. But something—more than likely it's the way Locus touches him, which comes as a surprise—makes him hold his tongue. Slowly, he opens his fingers, not jerking his hand back into his own space but releasing Locus' cock just the same. If he's reading him right, and by now he feels like that's a pretty big fucking if, he assumes he's going to need to get his hand out of the way. Then he opens his mouth as bid, feeling kind of stupid but willing to see where this is going. His eyebrows rise in what he hopes is a clear signal: Go ahead. ]
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He moves forward slightly, his other hand moving around the base of his cock to guide it into Felix's mouth. Something like this has been even longer than a handjob. Felix's mouth is warm and slick and in spite of all the firmly gripped control, Locus feels the want for more. Experimentally he rolls his hips, just to test, just to see. He's not aiming to choke Felix, he's not aiming to fall either, though. Just the right amount of space has to be given. This will do for now.
The one hand not on Felix falls back to his side, the other gives a small nudge to the back of his head. Locus looks down at him and wets his lips, his tone low, heated. ]
Go on.
[ It's certainly not going to suck itself. ]
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