anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue Voicetesting Thread

"That was..."

The words rumble roughly in the back of his throat before he makes a noncommittal noise, nuzzling into the crown of Taylor's head instead. He'd felt him inside and out, felt that determined, possessive bent, something that doesn't come out all that often. Normally it's Locus who turns possessive, who sets about wanting to claim Taylor in earnest.

Different. But wholly welcome.

"He enjoyed that," he adds after a moment, letting out a heavy breath as his heart starts to slow its rapidfire pulsing. "Whatever he says later."

"Well." He snorts softly, nosing up against the underside of Sam's jaw. It's warming, a little, to know that Sam doesn't have the words. That he managed his goal- but more than any of that? He'd made his point. Felix might've had Sam for eight years- but he'd fucked up. Taylor? Isn't going to fuck this up.

He's being careful. He's taking care.

"It wasn't all for him, you know. Most of it was for you." Like always. "But yeah, I made him pop. Didn't even know I could do that."

"I know."

His fingers ease in their grip, if only to be able to draw light circles across Taylor's back, skidding across slick skin and muscle. Slowly, a smile curls across his lips. "Oh. He does that. I've just never felt him do it inside of my head before," he murmurs, sounding amused.

"He gets overwhelmed and pops often?" That could be a problem. Delta makes a note to dig through what they have on the meta again before they mutually push that fear away. Neither felix nor Sam is in any pain right now, it must be ok. "Kinda tickles, huh?"

Describing ai shit is weird, but not impossible. For now he kisses Sam's chin, stupidly pleased with himself.

"Not since he was integrated. But when we were partners..." He huffs. "You heard him. He's greedy. Bites off more than he can chew."

And there had been a time when Locus would give him all he asked for and more. Now, his priority is Taylor. He tips his head and hums at the kiss, continuing to trace against his back, letting his fingers slip to his side to follow where he knew the new tattoo to be.

"He needs to be careful. We still don't know what all they did to him, it could get him hurt." And sam in turn. Still. Worries for another time. Right now there's Sam touching his new ink and that? Makes him shiver, just a little. "Delta designed it. Picked the placement and colors "

"It's beautiful."

His voice is still soft, still slightly hazy and thick, but the words are honest. The tattoo, the design, the placement, the gesture itself? All beautiful. York has made him a part of him now, no matter what happens.

Even if the worst should come to pass, he'll be there. He'll be there with him and that means something. And in the next instant he's turning his head to bury his nose in Taylor's hair.

"He's very proud. And glad you like it." As much a part of him as delta, is Sam. Everything they've fine, everything they've shared? He'd left its own kind of Mark on him. These stars and lives seem lie so little in the face of it all but- it's enough if Sam's voice is anything to go by.

No matter what, he'll have this. He'll have these moments locked in his memory until the end of him. York reaches up gently to stroke Sam's cheek, sighing happily. Moments like this he'll keep. Always. "Where you gonna put yours? Or should I let you surprise me?"

"I thought about having it somewhere I could see it easily...although there's probably more room on my back." He huffs, letting his head drop, far enough that he can peer down at Taylor again. "The inside of my forearm was a thought."

It would certainly be present and noticeable, but it was meant for him. A reminder.

"That'll sting like a bitch." He murmurs as he trails his fingers down Sam's shoulder top his arm, finishing qith a swipe of his thumb over the skin in question. Somewhere they can both look and know-

Sam is his. A way Felix could never have, a way he can't comprehend. The stars and these moments are theirs. No one else's. "But it'd look good."

"I can take it."

If it wasn't clear by now that he could handle discomfort...

But it shouldn't be an easy task, branding yourself with another person. It should hurt. It should mean something. And now he's more certain than ever that this is what he wants.

"Good. Because I've already decided on it."

"Just let me know when and I'll get you the number for my guy." He tips his head back enough to look up at all that grey green. No orange. No gold. Just his Sam being warm and open and honest. Christ, how far have they come from that first meeting?

Farther than he'd ever thought possible.

"Sam-" Don't say it, don't say it, nothing good will come out of saying it, they work just fine without ever saying it- "You know I..."

He can see the hesitation there, the fear, the need to say it regardless, and he knows what those words are. Without having to wait for him to find them on his tongue.

Locus doesn't try to stop him, but he smiles, in a way that says yes, he knows. One hand lifts to travel down the length of York's cheek, trailing across the scar that used to cause him to shy away.

They both had their guards up to start, in different ways. For many of the same reasons. They've come a long, long way from then.

One day he'll get his shit together enough to say it. One day. He'll say it, he'll say it first and mean it but- he can't quite get it past the knot in his throat yet. For now he takes that smile as answer enough, tilting his face into Sam's hand. He knows. Taylor knows he knows and that's good enough.

No one and nothing can take this from them.

"It's dumb. I'm...so damn sure that when I say it things will go to shit." It always did in the past. Pattern recognition is a thing, even if it isn't an entirely reasonable thing.

"You don't have to." Locus's teeth rake across his lower lip as he tips his head inward, hands returning to smoothing down Taylor's side, until they settle against his hips. "It...it's difficult to say."

And a little foolish. Saying it changes nothing, not when they both know, surely. He takes a breath, gaze lifting. "But I know. I...feel the same."

"I feel like I should." Delta doesn't get it. They are both aware of the sentiment but- feelings don't make sense all the time. Here it is all the same, that warmth, that affection, that honest assessment.

But they both feel what they feel. And know it to be true. That should be enough.

That is enough.

York lifts a hand to curl around the back of Sam's neck and pulls him into a slow, sweet kiss. All gentle affection, all the emotion he can pour in safely.

And Locus returns the kiss wholly, mouth crushing against his, all warmth and weight and the slow slide of tongue, before he draws back, lids heavy. "This isn't a variable. It's a constant. And it will be as long as I can make it so."

Maybe that will suffice. He remembers Delta telling him of York's fear, his insecurity, and maybe by putting it in those terms? It would be close enough to what they can never quite bring themselves to say.

Only Delta knows how York tends to frame how he views his life and his relationships, such as they are- the way he sees the world and tries to work out the best course of action at any given moment. For Sam to reach out and pick those words out of his mind-

D must've said something forever ago.

He can't find it in him to care, too pleased and too relieved to hear it. Voice low in the space between them, he murmurs against Sam's lips. "It's a constant as long as I can help it."

"Good." The word comes quiet and soft as he presses his mouth back at York's, slowly working open his lips into a deeper, warmer kiss. This will be theirs as long as they can manage it, and Locus doesn't plan on letting go any time soon.

There's a small noise as he draws back a second time, nose wrinkling faintly. "We're filthy," he notes dryly.

Like always he yields, lips parting, head tipping back, eyes slipping closed to feel the warmth and weight of Sam's mouth against his. The slow glide of his tongue twisting out a faint shiver as always. Even if he's fucked out. The spirit is willing- the body? Sore.

"Yeah we are." He smirks, slowly sitting up and pulling Sam with him. "I think that was the first time I'd ever heard you curse. Ever."

And that not-blushing move Sam pulls? The glancing aside and looking sheepish? Yeah. That's what's happening right at this very moment, and he clears his throat before smoothing his hair back out of his face.

He's not exactly proud of that, thanks for reminding him.

"I don't think swearing under duress counts against you." He leans up to kiss Sam's cheek. Whatever made him not is still some kind of relevant and not something he's gonna mock. Even if it was crazy hot. "You're in the clear. No harm, no foul."

There's a faint grumbling noise of acceptance before he starts to move towards the edge of the bed, wincing. He aches. Every single part of him aches, and it's only going to get worse, but he doesn't regret a second of that. Particularly when it had silenced Felix so effectively.

Pulling to his feet, he turns to help Taylor up with him. Shower? Shower seems like an excellent idea.

Taylor leans over to kiss the cap of Sam's shoulder before rolling out of bed. Okay. Everything's a little sore and he's pretty sure he's gone and chafed himself- but it'd been worth it.

Hand in hand he hauls himself off the bed and grunts, stumbling in the direction of the bathroom. "Shower, scalding. I cannot believe I fucked you for an hour."

"Neither can I."

And he feels it. Oh God, does he feel it, down to his bones. But he's walked after worse. So he's the one at Taylor's side helping him to the bathroom, even if his own legs are a little shaky.

"Had you ever done that before?"

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