anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue Voicetesting Thread

New data is being run through his head at an incredible speed, too much to process himself. But allowing Felix the freedom to assist in his movement is letting that information be put to use in adjusting his movements, and he's never felt the sort of synchrony he feels now.

It's no longer easy. But he's keeping out of sight, he's managing to continue to take them down, and the two of them feel--

It's satisfying. Beyond words. He's been benched for a while now, and Brandon hadn't been a mission in the traditional sense. Whatever he thinks of Felix, when he lets down his guard and they're working together? He's enjoying this.

Targets start dropping like flies and the objective? Sealed behind a lock. Not something overly complicated- but not something Sam could swing on his own easily. Something to challenge Felix while the timer picks away. Something to switch gears from the usual infiltration and elimination.

They're good together in that, synced up well- but what about when Felix has to focus elsewhere?

The lock. It means splitting focus, but it doesn't mean leaving Locus alone.

He's still getting that information, but parred down to what he needs, short-hand commands and cues that are second-nature. Throwing him against a target while darting away to work on the lock, confident that he'll be able to take it down on his own, shooting back in time to give him the needed boost to ramp his way up over the next obstacle and counter the target closing in on their flank.

Trust him to take care of the combatant still standing, move back to the lock, pick up where he left off. Decipher it, pick it apart. He hasn't had the opportunity to do this as much before now, but he knows now. Numbers and sequences are what he's made of. He can immerse himself long enough to crack the code, before rushing back.

Go for the payload.

Locus has broken the neck of the last target, or the last closest to them, before making his way towards the lock, the combination ringing in the back of his mind. Twist, turn, manipulate, and the code cracks. The lock opens.

Now, to escape.

Internal synchronization stable- nothing looks like it's going off the rails. It's a concern, of course it's a concern- but they don't seem to be overheating or losing track of each other. If anything the longer they're at it? The more in synch they become. It's-

Well it reminds Taylor a little of himself and Delta finding their feet without the limitation of having to mind his blind side. If D were a full AI... He lets that thought go, focusing on offering multiple paths out with moving variables- turrets, sensors to avoid. Objective in hand they've got options, each with a pro and a con. Felix has all the time in the world, comparatively, to find one that'll work.

It takes effort. But not nearly the time it might have taken him otherwise. He knows what Locus's strengths are, inside and out. All they need to do is stay on the move.

They're silent, throughout. All communication appears to be internal as Locus makes for the exit. Take the sensors, use his enhanced reaction time to avoid the timed bursts and maneuver. Avoiding conflict isn't always his sensibility, but he has to trust that Felix knows what they need to do.

There's no arguing, no question. They have that working on their side, and the results are damn near seamless. They're almost home free.

Taylor's got half a mind to let them end the scenario- objective complete, targets eliminated, they've got a clear path. Delta-

Slightly more critical. enough to throw an errant flashbang in that particular corridor that has Taylor swearing under his breath. Seriously, D, dick move-

Reactions to unexpected variables is key to their missions and, well. Seeing how they handle this? Not entirely unwarranted.

Locus has just enough warning to turn his head, but his head still pounds in the wake of the explosion, his vision swimming. The sensors are still up, still moving, little red lines shifting through the corridor.

Felix curses. Loudly. And demands control once more. Locus doesn't need to see when he can.

He barely dodges the scanning swipe of one of the floor sensors, twisting to get his feet up against the wall and kicking off, bounding forward. Duck, tumble, leap to avoid another and twist, before landing on his toes and bolting forward. Eyes closed. No need to rely on something that can't be relied upon, especially if Felix already has the exit mapped. Just follow those cues and...

Out they come, landing in a crouch. Locus is panting, shaking his head and disoriented as all Hell, but they made it.

Okay that was- pretty damn amazing. Not bad for a first showing, five kinds of hot and only slightly disturbing. Not near enough to discourage Taylor from shutting down the sim as FLISS analyzes the data of Sam's run alongside Delta and vaulting over his console to crouch in front of him.

Just to check, one hand on his, their, shoulder, squeezing gently. "I think that was your best time yet."

Technically it's Felix's only time but- for Sam? Green improvements across the board.

That orange backglow to his eyes is still there when his head lifts, and the world starts to right itself. Taylor. The simulation is complete. They did well.

That's all that matters. Felix appears more than smug, and it's his smirk that tugs across Locus's face before the two of them move to stand.

"It will certainly come in handy when it's time to go back into the field."

That's- a new look. Not a Sam look, something he'd seen in the few video feeds of Felix without his helmet. Taylor didn't often take on Delta's expressions or gestures simply due to an extreme lack- but there are moments when his posture shifts, when his head cants in a memory that is neither his nor D's.

At the moment? Doesn't matter. The glow doesn't matter, the smirk doesn't matter- Sam's not got a migraine and that's excuse enough to hook a hand around the nape of his neck, palm pressed tight to that thrumming, glowing implant where Felix is- and pull Sam down to slam their lips together.

Self control. Not his strong suit.

The response is instant.

Locus's hand lifts to curl at the base of Taylor's skull, an exact mirror to Taylor's own grip, and he's kissing him back. They are kissing him, the divide shaky at best, but the rush is so high that neither are inclined to back down.

And Felix has been curious for some time now. So if this is what Taylor wants? Time to bring it. And his free hand slips boldly downward to curl against the front of Taylor's pants.

That exercise had an effect, did it?

Delta makes some kind of noise about this being ill advised while Felix and Locus are so tightly intertwined but- Taylor's preoccupied with the bite to the kiss,the hand slipping down to his sweats. Every time he watches Sam work a sim or work in the field there's a reaction. All that power, all that discipline-

His.

It's a weird little rush and this time? It's almost as good as a post mission twist in his gut. Teeth drag across his bottom lip, hands sliding under his shirt to find skin as he grinds his hips into Sam's hand, more than a little half hard and utterly shameless.

I've done well. He's pleased. He always gets this way when we do well...

Kinky little shit. Think we should give him what he wants, then?

It happens quickly. Locus draws out of that kiss enough to peel his shirt away, and then they're sinking down to rest on their knees in front of him, hand still grasping the front of his sweatpants.

"Is this what you want?" It's not quite the usual tone Locus takes, that measure of caution beforehand. There's a touching of something teasing, almost mocking there, before he rocks forward, mouthing him through the fabric.

It's not permission for where to take this. They've already decided where it needs to.

This is new. Sam doesn't often and they're not in a scene and all kinds of lines and wires are getting crossed because it's orange. it's orange, it's orange behind the green and that'll never NOT set Delta on edge-

Hard to focus on that scrabbling fear with a hand and then mouth on his dick, hard to separate what's going on from the pretty well ground in habits and reflexes to those hands on him, that voice licked into his ears. The tone's off but the rumble's the same, more than enough for his hands to comb through Sam's hair, dragging it back from his face as his head falls back. God.

"The fucking mouth on you-" Voice and lips and all that heat- skipping boxers was a good idea. "Wanna ride you-"

But he'll take this.

"Yeah, you do."

That smirk broadens as he sets teeth in, moving along the outline of his dick, staring up at him all the while. It's not entirely him, but a strange resonance. An echo. Both of them feeling, thinking, doing, by internal agreement.

Felix was far better with his mouth, why not let him lend some expertise if he was willing? The trouble is he gets bored quickly, and there's some impatience to the way he tugs down at the waist of Taylor's pants to free him, before laving his tongue up along the underside, like it's a piece of candy he intends to savor to the last.

"Fuck-" Ok, teeth- Sam likes it and he's never thought about it on him before but- yeah. Jesus that's good, little pinching crackles of near pain digging in and it's hard to breathe for the first half second he's got a tongue on him. Felix knows what he's doing or Sam's gone and gotten enthused.

Right now? He doesn't care, fingers slipping back to card through Sam's hair, dragging along his jaw. Tracing the line of his lips where they glide against his cock.

It's probably twelve of one, half a dozen of the other at this point. The results are the same. He licks his tongue across Taylor's fingers when they stray too close, nipping at the callouses at his fingertips, before turning focus back to his cock. And then it's long, slow swipes before rolling his tongue over the head in short, percussive flicks.

Only once he's earned s noise does he proceed to swallow him down, lips closing firm around the length of him before letting him glide down, and inch at a time.

Yeah someone got good or got enthused and which it is matters less than swearing out low and appreciative strings of Spanish. His voice catches with each flick, hips tense, straining against the instinct to rock forward. He wants-

But watching where they go with this. That's holding him still.

Having Felix go and go hard, pull his own trick back at him has his hand fisting in Sam's hair, tugging appreciatively. "Dios Mio, linda lobo-</i"

"Don't go ignoring me..."

Those eyes flash upwards before he sucks, hard, rolling his tongue up against the underside of his length as he draws back, heedless of the slick noises that accompany the movement. He hums low at the tug to his hair, a shiver rippling down his spine, but it's reflex.

All his attention is in Taylor, on making him feel good. And now he's got a few new ideas...

Weird, to hear a voice while Sam's mouth is full. It should give him pause because sure he's fucked them both every which possible way but- not when Felix was riding shotgun. Not when he was this present in the neural lace. "Yeah, yeah-"

That slick goddamn twist, that sudden surge of pressure- He loses a moment with a low moan, eyes locking on Sam's. Felix's. Whoever's. "You're not half bad either, Isaac."

Damn right he's not. He knows how to twist those reactions out of him. It's a matter of pride, turning someone's brain to mush with just his lips, just his tongue. And while it's Locus staring up at him, working his mouth over him in slick, rhythmic movements before teasing the slit at the tip with his tongue, it's Felix masterminding the affair.

Both of them are still riding the high from completing the exercise. Both of them want off. Both of them, for their own reasons, want to see Taylor come apart.

It's intense- it's always intnense having Sam's mouth on his cock- but down there, enthused, skilled- hooks in twice as deep, dragging that banked heat in the pit of his gut out quicker than he'd thought possible. Delta flares to life enough to keep his knees from giving out entirely but it's a near thing, a sharp jolt down his spine and the insides of his thighs as he finally gets it in his head to pull Sam away by the hair. It gives him the room to crumple, straddling his lap, biting at his lips.

Too much too soon and he'll come before he's ready- but he's a knotted up mess, breath shallow, eye dark, heart jackhammering in his chest as he grinds their hips together- voice a ragged twist- "Want you, need you, come on Sam-"

"Taylor." His name escapes on a deep, rasping breath, a momentary gulp of air as Locus surfaces, fingers lifting to curl against the nape of his neck and draw him in. I've got you, he won't hurt you, I won't let him...

But the kiss that lands on his lips is sharp, tugging at his lip, nipping the corner of his mouth, before finally letting him in. Rolling his tongue and coaxing him inward as he rolls his hips, back bowing, to drag up against Taylor in what almost seems a tease.

As goood as a tongue dragging up his spine, the scrape of his name in Sam's voice when they're both grinding in tight like this- or should be grinding in tight. Felix going in for a shivery slick twist, some kind of tease and normally? He'd be all about that. Want it, drag it along, roll with it-

if it were Sam doing the teasing. He's 60/40 on it being Felix and that's more than enough to thrust his tongue in hard and scrape his hands down to drag up Sam's shirt, nudging them back to brace himself over Sam. Fexix. Them.

Weirdest threesome ever.

Locus's eyes flash open, and there's no doubt who's staring up at him behind that orange glow, who's digging their heels into the floor and bucking his hips up so hard he could damn near dislodge him.

But he doesn't. Instead he hums into the scratch of those nails and rolls his tongue against Taylor's, lapping at the back of his teeth.

"Mmm, that's more like it. Show us what you got, big man."

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