anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue Voicetesting Thread

For a fleeting moment, Felix wonders if he's bitten off more than he can chew. He promptly decides there's no such thing, even after promise after promise as him and Locus winding up tighter and tighter. Until Locus keens and snaps his head back, jerking violently as he spills white-hot across his steadily pumping fingers, and over Taylor's stomach in the process.

Nothing. Just nothing, for one blissful moment. Not a single thought or plan or argument, just that waves washing through them and everything about feeling the sensations that marked that moment. The prickle of skin, the shiver of muscle and that warm, throbbing pulse that seems to drum as one throughout every inch of him.

The orange glow flickers, sputtering like a dying light for just a moment, before steadying out again, leaving Locus to try and gulp down what air he can.

It's a thing of beauty, just like every other time. Even with the orange glow sputtering and fizzling out for a moment- did that count as making his hologram go static? Probably not. Best to chase that edge as long as it lasts. His arm loops around Sam's back, holding him steady, even as his hand slowly uncurls from the fist that's clamped tight inside of him. Gives his fingers a little flutter, a slow twist as he starts to withdraw. Carefully.

Too easy to hurt them like this and he'd never-

Not in a way they don't ask for. Having been there and done that? Not fun. "Look at you-"

That same reverent awe, that same warm dripping of affection. "You're drifting hard, aren't you? Nothing else matters but what you feel, my hand in you- goddamn, Sam, Issac- my whole fucking hand. I wonder if you could take more?"

If they'd let him. If the sudden wide flare of his knuckles isn't too much in and of itself, pads of his fingers still curled up, rocking against his prostate.

Deep, gasping breaths that continue as Taylor's hands see fit to play, fluttering and flexing against yielding heat and muscle, and it's almost drunkenly that they fall forward, mouth falling over his mid-sentence, only letting a few words slip out at a time as he nips sloppily, nuzzles hot against the underside of his jaw.

Everything hums, shines, sweeps by like it means nothing in comparison, and he grins against York's chin before nipping there, too. "Fuck yeah, we could...but I thought you were gonna bend us in half, fuck us into the mat, yeah? Gonna keep us waiting?"

It's damn near a tease. Note: Felix's mood definitely seems to improve after orgasm.

"Mm-" Playful, almost, this nipping affection. Sloppy and easy and good and Taylor is more than eager enough to return the gesture, thoughts drifting half away as he busies himself with catching their lips as best he can, slowly working his hand free- but damn, that tease. Hard to not try to do both, isn't it? Taylor tips his head back to give Felix more room to nip and bite and tease as he likes for a few seconds before he gets his bearings. Pitches their weight forward, tipping Sam off his lap till he's braced over him, nestled between his thighs, hand hand slipped back to catch the back of Sam's head, keep it from knocking against the mats.

Braced like this above them it's easier to roll his arm down and grind his hand back in slow and deep, watching Sam's body straining and shifting to accommodate. "Nah. Just gonna play with you a little while. Make sure you're good and ready for me."

Separating sex and sentiment is easy for Felix. He can be very affectionate, very playful. He can be a damn good time, and he knows it.

He still squawks somewhat when turned back onto his -- Sam's -- back, the two of them staring up at Taylor where he's settled. It looks like there might be some protest from Felix, but a second later Locus's eyes roll back and his digs his nails into the mat beneath him, heels dragging until he's braced his legs and is pushing slowly back.

Still going. Still going and still pushing and it's still too much, overwrung nerves screaming white hot as he sucks in another breath.

"Please." That's not Felix, there's no way it is.

"Please what?" Felix has been damn good with demanding, with saying what he wants, and down low- Sam's not much of a talker. But getting him to beg, getting him to break? It's fucking beautiful. Watching them both shudder and work back for more of his hand even as everything in them, the strain of their muscles, the shivery clasp of their body, the way they twitch every time he rolls his knuckles- screams that they can't take more?

Yeah, he's gonna make them use their words. When it's not quite so intimate as-

As what he feels for Sam? Taylor's a cruel bastard of a top.

Oh for the love of--

"Fuck me." And that's not Felix's voice, not the AI's projected sound, but Locus. Though whether he said it of his own volition or Felix nudged him into it...

The result is the same. The vulgarity rolling off his tongue in breathless, husky tones as he tries to maintain breath, tries to stay focused enough to give Taylor what he wants. All so Taylor will give him what they need.

Ok that-

Not what he was expecting. Better than anything else and that- that's Sam's voice. Sam's inflection curling around that vulgar word he'd never touched until now and if that isn't reason enough to slowly pull his hand out and slick his cock up he doesn't know what fucking is. "Oh, I'm gonna fuck you-"

Like it's a promise, like it's a fucking threat. He hitches one of Sam's long legs over his shoulder and snaps in balls deep- body still tight enough to make him whimper but easy enough that there's no risk of pain. "Gonna make you forget your own damn name-"

He feels so empty when Taylor pulls free, so hollow, that a strained noise slips free. Almost a protest. But he knows what's coming from the slick noise that follows, knows he's done something good, that he'll get good in return...

And sure enough, Taylor gives him exactly what they want. Just thrusts deep and fills him up again, but it's different now. Not too much but perfect, perfect just the same, and his back hitches off the mats in an arch, mouth curved into a silent 'o'.

Felix, however, is not silent. "Both of us, big guy? Cause I could do this all day." And he only sounds a little out of breath when he says so, even if he feels all of it. Every inch of it. Like it's him being fucked, his body seizing up and shuddering hard.

"So can I." Growled low and rough against the skin of Felix's throat, hips snapping sharply on the withdrawl. One lean thigh held out while he gets his hands against the skidding bruises that fit into his hands like Sam was made to be here under him, bent double and spread wide in all his filthy gorgeous brutal beauty.

Perfect.

And if he can keep the tension up, keep the momentum going- he's certain he can short out Felix. "I got nothing else to do today."

Not a damn thing. "Think I'll make it last an hour, this time. String you both along till you can't stand it, huh? How's that sound?"

It'd take, shit, a lot of focus and help from Delta, but he could do it. Would do it if it kept Sam shuddering, begging, broken under him. If it got that orange glow to fritz and fizzle like a sparkler in the night.

"Lot of talk..."

Not that he suspects he can't back it up. An hour, Jesus. That stretched on until damn near forever for an AI. And Locus was already spent, panting, and taking those thrusts like a champ all the same. Staring up at Taylor from under half-lidded eyes, hair a dark, messy pool behind his head, streaked with sweat and come.

They could take it. And if Taylor wanted to push them to their limits, he could do it.

The leg at his shoulder tightened as Locus's teeth raked along his lower lip, hips cocking back into that thrust. "Do it."

"As you wish-" Delta, ever helpful, starts the clock. Does some quick calculations for chafing and the requisite reapplication of lubricate, times it out for optimal friction and comfort, and tosses in an ideal pattern and variation for mutual stimulation that both Taylor and Sam will most enjoy. All and all, a true bro. Taylor takes that along with Sam's thigh, hitches his legs further apart, and bears down.

Bends him double and starts a slow grind that'l have them both seeing stars. One hour.

Long enough to get Sam hard and desperate again. To maybe fizzle out Felix more than a little. To drive himself pretty well insane because jesus he hasn't pulled shit like this in years and hasn't pulled it from this end...ever. At all. Braced over Sam, looking down into pale eyes and dark hair, all that lube, sweat, and come glistening on his skin? Makes it hard to go slow. To take his time.

It takes relatively little time at all to get him hard again. Every nerve ending feels atuned to this, centered in on the cruel drag and grind that has him seeing stars behind his eyes.

For a time, he simply takes it. Lets Taylor drag his nails and pin him down and wind them both up so tight it feels like he could snap, in a very literally way. But Felix isn't content to leave it that. It isn't long before orange-gold overwhelms gray-green entirely.

And then he's dragging himself, nails over the back of his scalp and teasing the nape of his neck, squeezing himself down purposefully around his cock like it's a competition to see who cracks first. Can't flip him around and pin him down, but he's noisy, and while Sam tosses and sweats and moans for more, Felix is a lot more vocal in his contributions.

"Fuck yes...just like that. Gotta be killing not to just...shove that nice, thick cock up inside us, though, isn't it? Just pound away until you both see God, like you know you want to."

"I said an hour-" Voice low and scraped raw, five kinds of ragged and strained but he's nowhere near done. Much as he wants exactly what Felix is saying, much as he needs to bury himself deep and let go- he meant what he said. He's not giving up that last inch till Felix and Sam are both begging with everything they've got.

All golden orange means Felix is deep in the wetwork and that's as much incentive as any to shudder through that drag and clasp as he shifts the path of his hands. From thighs to hips to chest he squeezes one of Sam's nipples between his fingers, rolling the puffed, stiff point as he shifts his angle of thrust just enough to grind up against Sam's prostate.

Maybe he'll get them to come one more time before the hours up. Maybe two. "And I meant an hour-"

"Shit. Son of a bitch..."

Felix is cursing up a storm, and Sam's expression twists with him, eyes rolling back as they both shudder hard and buck, hips slamming up hard enough to earn a very audible smack of skin to skin. Once that heavy wave of warmth and mind-numbing pleasure subsides, Felix darts a tongue over his lips, reaching down between them to curl a hand around Sam's cock, though whether to bring them both off or stave them off is anyone's guess.

"What was that?" It's hard to be smug but damn if he doesn't try, skating the next grind right along that swollen, crackling gland inside of Sam. So much time left on the clock and he's gotta hold out. Focus on equations, on variables, on the sound of Sam's voice echoing through the room, the taste of his sweat on his tongue-

"Slower?" Cuz he can go slower. Will go slower.

"Fucking asshole, don't you do it."

Locus's teeth grind together as Felix works a hand over his cock, trying to set a pace of his own, stealing just enough pleasure to bolster those sharp crackles of pleasure setting them both alight with each push, each thrust. Trying in vain to push them both over the edge at least once, to find some measure of relief.

And maybe squeeze some of York's composure loose in the meanwhile.

"Slower it is." Agonizing as that is- he adjusts. Slows into deep, hard snaps of his hips that take for fucking ever to finish, that have the muscles in his back trembling and twitching under the strain- but he does it. Smirks into sam's skin and keeps it slow, keeps it just shy of anywhere that'd be real good. "What's wrong, slim? Too hot for you?"

"More like boring me out of my skull. Come on."

Alright, if York was going to be a dick, he'd move to compensate. Continue squeezing and stroking along Locus's cock the way he knows he likes it. Thumbnail grazing up the center, flicking near the leaking tip, just to hear the way he moans. It's a breathy, broken noise.

And it's perfect. He'll get him off just fine, like this. He knows how.

The skin under York's bad eye twitches, Delta echoing his irritation. Balls deep in a guy and he's being a little shit. Shutting someone like this up takes precedent over his desire to last forever- Delta doubles down on distracting equations while York hooks that other long thigh over his shoulder- bends Sam and Felix double, and rails in, grinding against his prostate. They wanna come again? Fine. They'll come again.

And again.

And again.

Till he's satisfied.

If he meant to shut him up, he had the right of it. There's a spark of orange as Locus's eyes widen, sweat trickling down his temple as everything peaks, driving relentlessly now towards a breaking point, and there's no stopping. No breath between, just the steady pumping at his cock as a counterpoint to that wash of heat, that punch of air out of his lungs, over and over and over again.

Those moans turn louder, desperate. Almost pleading. Felix is silent, reveling in the feel of it and drinking it in, the closer and closer they push, until...

Like a thundercrack, it hits. Locus jerks and cries out, spilling over his own fingers and belly in static spurts, thighs trembling where they rest against York's shoulders.

It takes some creative cheating that will bite him in the ass later to keep from losing it right along with Locus. Watching him break, hearing his voice shatter apart like that is always the first step to his own undoing. All that heat banked and roiling in his gut, scraping along under his skin- it needs an outlet. Demands it. Anymore sensation would snap the hair thin thread holding him back-

So Delta removes the stimulation. Rendering him half numb is fucking startling, not entirely unlike a bucket of cold water dumped all over his nerves from the inside out- but he stays hard.

Stays determined as he keeps snapping his hips down over and over, eye locked on Sam's face. "We're nowhere near done yet, Lobo, you better be ready-"

His head dips, his teeth dig into Sam's skin, biting in a fresh bruise. "You too Isaac. I'm not done with you."

Release had been sweet. Even now it rolls through him, a warm haze through which he can still feel Taylor moving, fucking, spreading him open and digging in with fingers and teeth, and despite being wrung dry he lifts his hips. Drives himself back onto that invading length, squeezes tight, unaware that Delta's rendered his efforts all but useless.

"Gonna make him scream again? Gotta say, if I didn't know you were fucking cheating, I'd be impressed." One hand spreads, swipes across Locus's belly before bringing sticky-slick fingers up to his mouth.

Might not be feeling as much, but there's still the sight of Felix inside of Locus, licking those fingers clean with downright pornographic levels of dedication, thorough swipes of his tongue and sucking around those fingertips.

"I'm only human-" And they've both seen Sam strung out like this. Well. Maybe not LIKE this but they've both fucked him, held him, been pinned by him. Holding off would've been fucking impossible but he's keeping to his damn promise because Sam? Wanted it. That timer keeps clicking down and York keeps grinding in, pausing only long enough to add another slick squirt of lube so neither of them chafes before driving back in deep and hard.

Don't look, don't look- but it's impossible to not. Even unable to feel his rhythm stutters. stalls as he tries to hitch those thighs further apart, tries to regain ground lost by watching Felix just-

Fellate Sam's fingers like it's nothing.

All while staring right up at him, the orange glow disappearing briefly under lowered eyelids when he gives a hum around two fingers, tongue lapping out around them. And there's a faint curl to his lips when he feels him stutter, when he knows he's watching and feeling the strain.

But then those lips pop off with the barest string of saliva, rounding into an 'o' as those thrusts start to wear. That sensitivity is starting to tip, to take a rougher edge. Even with all the lube it still feels like too much, pounding away against nerves already raw and crackling.

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