anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue Voicetesting Thread

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."

He shouldn't have to worry about corny back talk when he's got his tongue in someone's mouth- but Felix is kind of a special guy. Gotta admire that. Less the sassback but it's not enough to have him peeling away. If anything it's fuel for the fire.

What he's got is a hand snaking down to pinch at Sam's nipple- not as bitingly sharp as the clamps but a good improvised alternative while he swaps from 'fuck yes now please' to 'fucking ruin Sam'. Rendering them incoherent will be a visceral delight.

It's all about shutting Felix up, isn't it?

This close to the surface, he can feel it. The echoes of it surge across the neural lace as Locus cants his head back, nearly hard enough to rap against the floor, his mouth dropping slightly as his eyes roll shut.

Again, his hips buck upwards, before his hands slide up into his hair, nails scraping his scalp, to tug insistently. Don't promise what you can't deliver, Taylor.

Better. Finding a pattern and variation that works for them hasn't been difficult since that first night in the hotel. Throwing Felix into the mix? Brand new variation to work off of. Things that Sam likes- red welts dragged against his ribs, pinched bruises, the way Taylor sets his teeth against the side of his throat and grinds down while sucking with bruising force- these things he knows works for Sam.

Felix- an entirely new puzzle, one that played with knives. One that would incite Sam into being angry enough for a frustrated kind of fucking.

He can work with that. Does work with that when he kicks off his sweats and doesn't so much peel off Sam's pants as tear them while trying to get a hand on his cock, squeezing the base with a low, rumbling growl. Not as good as Sam's but hey, he's learning.

He's rewarded with a laugh, a throaty thing that could have come from either of them, but Locus isn't smiling so much as gasping, hips shifting swiftly and legs kicking to assist in dragging his pants down and off.

"Ooh. Got some teeth, do you?"

And that grip on his hair is being used to drag him closer, close enough to drag teeth against his earlobe with a low hiss.

The usual pinch shifts to a pinch and twist, not quite bruising force set in against such sensitive skin yet, nails not in play. But he'll get there. He'll work them both up till Felix can't fucking think straight- and with that goal locked in mind- as much as it's Sam he's touching, Sam he's biting and hurting, Sam's thighs he's shoving apart to slot between-

The whole of his demeanor shifts ever so slightly as he drags himself half a step back mentally. Goes at this with the same laser focus he reserves for locks. Not distant, but not entirely tender. Calloused palms skate along the skin of Sam's thighs before his fingers dig in to drag welts, twist to pinch skid right up to draw his thumbnail in a steady line along the underside of Sam's cock, flicking across the slit. Things that were and are normally just on this side of too much.

"Shit--!"

Retaliation comes quick, Locus's knee jerking up on impulse to jab him in the side, something furious burning in that orange glow. "You sure you want to play that rough? Cause we can play rough," Felix breathes, sounding a little winded.

Locus, it seems, has shuddered and given in, but in Felix? It only encourages fighting back, a sort of grappling for dominance. He won't just roll over and take it quietly.

"Not playing at anything." Now he pulls back enough to watch them, grunting at the jab to his ribs but otherwise unmoving between their thighs. His hand twists just a little too dry over the head of Sam's cock. "Hit me again and I'm leaving you here."

Hard and half naked on the floor. He can get off with his hand in the shower just as well as he can with Sam and Felix. The pad of his thumb rolls over the slit he'd teased with his nail earlier, head tipped to the side. "But if you want rough- You got a word?"

Improvising a scene is not how he does this shit, especially with new partners. But he knows this body, knows Sam's limits, it's Felix that's the wild card at the moment.

The dry twist earns a snarl, tugging at Locus's lips hard enough to show teeth, but the expression it melts into is downright sulky. Right. Gotta set up rules and all that bullshit.

They'd never needed them, he silently reminds Locus. They knew each other's limits, they never pushed past what they needed or wanted, but he just loves his goddamn rules, doesn't he?

There are two deep, steadying breaths before he glances askance, obviously annoyed. Finally, he responds. "Osiris."

Mood-killer if there ever was one.

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