anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue Voicetesting Thread

"You're not fucking me." He's laying that out right now. Sam? Sure. As often and rough as he likes. Felix? Fuck and no. "And you're not getting a knife."

No for no, boundaries established first. Other than that? He rocks forward enough to bite at Sam's bottom lip, hard cock gliding along the join of thigh and groin as he sorts out what he wants right now. Been awhile since he's been with anyone except Sam so adjusting mentally is taking half a second. What he trusts Sam with is a much longer list than what he'd trust a one night stand with and this? Is more or less a bizarre one night stand. Clicking back to the usual rules is easy once he remembers them. "I like giving head, I like getting head. I like my hair getting pulled and hearing that who I'm with is getting off. I like dirty talk that isn't debasing and insulting. I like getting bitten and bruised. You?"

Something in Locus's gut curls warm and appreciative at that. That's his. That's theirs, and he can't help but be pleased by that.

Felix, on the other hand, doesn't seem to care. If he does, he's hiding it well, pulling up onto his elbows and sliding his free hand down to grip Taylor's cock, to press him into that little dip of muscle and let him just rub to his heart's content. "I like fighting. I like fucking and getting fucked."

He pushed himself up further still, until they were almost nose to nose, head canting slightly to one side, Locus's eyes only half-open by this point. "I like the way you try and hide your teeth, but I'd like it better if you didn't. And I like people living up to their word."

So go ahead. Try to short him out.

Getting fucked it'll be, then, as soon as York finds the damn lube he'd kept in his pocket (He's tried to be prepared since that first go on the mats) and figures out how to 'show his teeth' the way Felix seems to want. Whatever the hell that means. One handed fumbling finds and fishes out the tube as he leans in to bite at Felix's lips, closing the distance with a sharp edged smirk and no real plan as to how to move forward.

What did he like, what did Sam like, what tricks hasn't he pulled on either of them in awhile? The hand on his cock goes feather light, barely trailing and twisting along Sam's shaft as he slicks up his other hand.

Locus -- Felix -- all but rolls his eyes before bucking up, shoving a foot down against the floor and pushing to roll Taylor back, attempting to switch their positioning.

If he can't maintain a firm hand even in the literal sense, he can stay down there and let Felix drive. Even if he's not fucking him, he doesn't want to wait for him to figure out what he's doing.

Felix knows what to do.

"Woah-" Ok teasing is not on the agenda, he can work with that. And roll with it as he gets his bearings. Staring up at Sam is never not hot when he's hard and naked and right there- Taylor's slick fingers drag along Thigh and hip before curling around back and down to slip inside. Test the resistance cuz- it has been awhile.

Not long but, long enough to be careful.

"Mmm..."

That's Locus, now, shifting his hips and relaxing back onto those fingers. He's tight, yes, but he knows how to make his body surrender, to make things easier. And Felix is there all the while, whispering into his ear, getting him to melt, too.

Until he slips back in and squeezes tight around those fingers in a flex, grinning sharply.

"Come on. Don't be shy about it. We wanna see what you've got, pretty boy."

"There we go-" The familiar flex and glide- there's resistance but it's not too much. Enough for Sam to feel it when he starts twisting his hand, curling his fingers to press and stretch in even passes. Of course Felix popping up to be all smug just reminds Taylor of his earlier promise.

Half a second to find the right angle, less than that once he's got it to strike at Locus' prostate in a sharp, intense grind. No break, no recovery, just tight circles pressing against that bundle of nerves while his other hand slips up to squeeze Felix's cock. Not as hard as he would for Sam alone, but- hey. "What I've got are magic hands, Slick."

That throws them both. Locus moans and shudders, mouth dropping open for breath as wave after wave of sharp, shocking pleasure strikes, until he can barely breathe for all his panting. Felix falls silent but he's there, oh yes, that tell-tale gleam still visible in Locus's eyes as they both rock back against those clever fingers.

Fuck, but he ain't lying.

Now he lets himself feel smug, watching the orange flicker in Sam's eyes, knowing he's got them both on the ropes. Sam's used to a more gradual buildup, even if they start in hot and hard and biting. Diving right for the hot buttons early- could be cheating. Isn't.

What else had Felix said- oh right.

Teeth.

He leans up, craning his neck to get one of Sam's nipples in his mouth, biting down around the dark skin as he sucks in a bruise. Given leave to gnaw? He'll make a mess of them both.

"Son of a bitch..."

Locus's head drops as he gasps, squirms, uncertain whether to lean back into the steady pulse of those fingers or the sharp pinch of his teeth. But Felix has a hand up and tangling in Taylor's hair to tug, snarling softly.

It's ramping things up fairly quickly, it's true. But that doesn't stop him from wanting more. Demanding it. He's never satisfied, it seems.

He's got half a second to consider, well. Demanding, how they're sitting, and Felix's rather short fucking list of what he likes, doesn't like, and the kind of guy he seems to be. Getting them flipped over to get Sam's thighs over his shoulders and eat him out like that probably isn't happening.

Falling back, now- and tugging Sam up to sit on his face? Probably something Felix would like. Once he's got a few more bruises bitten into Sam's chest. As soon as he's got the one swollen and red and bruised he drags his teeth and lips across to mark up the other, fingers settling into sharp, irregular thrusts to keep them both guessing.

It's enough to keep the impatient AI sated. The sensations process differently now, but certainly in a way that can be enjoyed. That's the main thing. He -- they -- lick his lips, squeezing down around his fingers now and then in encouragement, and hissing at the tug of teeth.

Harder to leave marks on dark skin, he knows, but Taylor's got this down to a science. Has his nipple standing out puffy and stiff and prickling in the cool air while he attacks the other, and he's getting nails to his scalp in turn. Sharp little turns of his thumb and tugs of his fingers.

"There we go..."

And of course, he continues to talk.

He knows this lock and all its variations. Knows what makes sam shudder and moan, what has him curling in close with hitched twists of breaths. Felix is the anomaly in Sam's skin- variations on the usual themes, a gentling due to Felix's expressed preferences- it's an art. One that Taylor attends to with all due affection and diligence.

Teeth sink in as his tongue swirls around pebbled skin, fingers crooked and grinding in an erratic pattern to keep either of them from settling in. Fast one moment and slow another, but always hard. Always sharply aimed right for that crackling bundle of nerves. Felix is still talking so, obviously, he's not working hard enough. Snaking a third finger in, twisting on the withdraw, scissoring them to feel Sam's body strain to accommodate?

Probably wont' shut him up, but it might surprise him.

"Fuck!"

His teeth snap together with a grunt, and it's clear his frame is shaking by now, trying to hold everything together. But Felix is reveling in it, and those hips slam back against Taylor's fingers with enthusiasm, desperately seeking more, more, always more.

And then a hand slips around Locus's cock to squeeze, though whether to hold off, or simply increase his enjoyment, who's to say?

"Nngh, come on. Come on, we can take it..."

The hazy look on Locus's face? Says he agrees with that sentiment. It's a look Taylor would find very familiar indeed.

He pulls off of Locus' chest with a wet pop, smirk broadening as he blows cool air over both swollen points of his chest. So goddamn sore, so goddamn gorgeous- and more. They want more. Giving more would be so goddamn easy-

It'd take more lube, up to his wrist, and he slathers it on without missing a beat. Clenching and shuddering and rocking back for more, five kinds of filthy and every last inch of him beautiful in that sweat slick desperation. "Can you really?"

It's a whiskey sweet drawl, a slick tucking of his hand in a tight cone, teeth dragging over his own bottom lip. "Deep breath."

He's going to. Holy shit, he's actually going to...

They're both keyed into this, at different points. Locus is low, deep down low, and ready for it. He wants it, wants whatever is given, because it's Taylor, and it's always good. It's already so good, sensitized skin prickling in that cool rush of breath, easing those muscles into relaxing as he feels that threatening pressure.

Which Felix is ready for. So ready for. Feeling anything is an experience, feeling this? Fucking awesome. Knowing that there's more coming?

"Don't need to breathe, stop being a goddamn tease."

"Not talking to you, cupcake." Taylor snorts a soft laugh, tucking his pinky up along with the rest at the first real test of resistance. It's a lot, he knows- but Sam's low and sweetly submissive in the moment. Pliant. Ready to take anything he gives because it's him. Felix never got him like this. Never got him to take care of him, never earned his trust like this. All the more reason to keep it good. To be gently merciless with that steady glide, leaning in to bite again at the point of Sam's left nipple.

Tugging, rolling it between his teeth even as he twists his fingers in a slow thrust. Rocks his hand up to him little by inevitable little to keep it crackling and sweet and with just the right kind of burn.

Just for Sam. For them.

Locus's thighs quiver as Taylor pushes, spreads him wider, muscles yielding to the pressure and taking him in, little by little. Past how far his cock alone could spread him, and his fingers flex, digging tighter, and that strained moan catches at his throat as his head drops forward again. Yes, more. He can take it.

And that crackle of pleasure, the slow build of pressure and the heat, Felix can feel it all. That presence twitches at Locus's fingertips, toes curling, and for a moment? He's silent, knowing he'll get more.

"Deep breaths-" Sam needs to remember to breathe- Taylor remembers too damn well how everything fell away. How it was too much, how it was just enough. How he couldn't even think straight with that firm pressure grinding right on up. He keeps it slow. Twisting his hand on the withdraw and rocking it up gingerly. Only giving as much as Sam can take. Never pushing too hard, too fast. "There you go. Opening right up for me, aren't you? Need this?"

He pushes that much further, thumb catching just on the stretched rim. All he'd have to do is tuck it in against his fingers and Sam could take it. Take all of it.

It's so much. So full, and he's not even all the way in....

Locus leans in, forehead pressing to Taylor's as he follows that order. Deep breaths. Just keep breathing, keep feeling. Felix is close to voicing his need for more again and Locus takes it from him, squeezing fingers around his own cock just to hold off a little longer.

"Need you." He murmurs the words, and it's all him. Nothing but.

"Right here, Sam." Not going anywhere, not when Sam's like this, not when he needs him. Taylor's smile goes soft and sweet, thumb tucking in against the rest of his fingers as he slides in to the knuckle. When it seems fucking impossible that he could push further, that Sam could take more- he has to slip more lube along his skin to make it easy. Make it possible to press in that last half inch-

And what Felix feels isn't just the physical sensation. No. It starts with that smile, the heavy warmth curling in Locus's chest, that--

Locus's teeth suddenly grit together, one hand landing on Taylor's shoulder to hold himself steady, gasping roughly between his teeth as that last knuckle slipped in, and it was so much. Too much. He could focus on nothing but that swell of pressure, inescapable, and his hips shifted in an effort to adjust, to work around it, to do anything at all.

"Motherfucker." This from Felix, who was reeling too, but working Locus's cock to keep him hard, keep him sharp. Keep both of them on as even a keel as they could manage.

"I got you-" Slow, so goddamn slow, letting him take it as much as he can. As much as he can stand without hurting himself before making that last press and-

Fuck.

It's like the air's knocked out of him because he's in. Tight and clasped to the wrist in that velvety heat- the moan that rips out of him is rough and obscene. "Jesus christ, Sam."

This close, this hard, this knotted up and fucking beautiful- "Look at you."

And his head lifts. Those glowing orange eyes fix on him, lips parted slightly, and Locus just looks dazed. Gone. Floating somewhere else while his body rides his, the sensation of being so very full, of Taylor's hand resting inside of him like a heavy weight.

It's not him driving any more. Just coasting on the feeling, the overwhelming rush of it. But he still tilts his head in to crush his mouth breathlessly against Taylor's, as if meaning to devour him.

It's easier see without freaking out, now. That orange glow. It's more yellow than Sigma's, no less strange for it but. Easier to see sitting in the back of Sam's eyes. Watching him adjust. Take it, take all of it so well just for him.

He tips his head back, mouth open against Sam's, Felix's, whoever's while he slowly curls his fingers into a fist and grinds his knuckles up against Sam's prostate.

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