anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue Voicetesting Thread

A subtle tension in his shoulders eases at that. He knew they weren't going to include Felix in this but- having it confirmed settles him, as does the touch of his hand. Contact is- it's different, that tilt of his head becoming more so as he turns his hand over to feel Locus' palm to palm. "Do you want me to call you 'Sam' or 'Locus' for the evening? I know York prefers Sam but-"

He will defer to whatever Locus finds most comfortable. It is an easy thing to gain and easier still to lose, that comfort. But he is grounded in the moment, York's sentiment and edges of that usual soft, sappy smile welling up in his chest and flitting over his lips when Delta laces their fingers together.

"Locus," he confirms after a moment. York prefers Sam for his own reasons, but anyone else using that name is still strange. And it's not how he thinks of himself, even now. But he doesn't want that to become the focus, and he uses that hold on Delta's hand to tug him closer.

Just move slow. Don't overwhelm him.

"Anything else you want to talk about now before we start?" Locus's brow lifts. "That doesn't mean you can't still talk about it during, or change your mind. Just so we're clear."

Going as he's pulled is surprisingly easy, sliding until he's sitting next to Locus. How does York stand feeling so small next to him? Everything in them should be primed for some kind of threat but- those processes quiet down to nothing. Locus will keep them safe. Perhaps that is the appeal. Curious he rubs his thumb against Locus' skin, memorizing the texture.

Warm, a little rough. Locus throws heat off like a furnace, York has said, but experiencing it for himself is different. "Understood. I-"

Blushing is more obvious, now, with blood and flesh that actually does so. "The insertion of your whole hand was quite intense for York. I am equally curious regarding the urethral penetration."

"Alright. We'll try leading up to a few things, and you can decide where we go from there. Does that seem fair to you?"

Keeping things perfectly civil and logical, familiar ground for the AI, even while his free hand lifts to slide across one pinkening cheek and pressing his palm to skin. Not necessarily a sexual touch at all, but certainly an intimate one.

"It does." And this is why he's comfortable and confident in making the attempt. Locus' consideration, the care he has always shown. Two points of contact and yet he feels suffused with warmth, eye flicking from where their hands are laced together up to Locus' eyes.

Suddenly he understands the appeal of this gesture. Why York leans into it as he feels himself doing so now. "This is...pleasant."

More than.

"Good. Then we'll continue."

Any amusement he feels is muted, a minor detail. His focus stays instead on the flush of his face, the softening of his gaze as those touches sink in. He lets his thumb rub against Delta's cheekbone, just under the faint jut of scar tissue.

And then he's easing in, tipping his head to graze his lips across the opposite temple. Not a full-on kiss just yet, just the idea of it, left to tingle.

Not quite on the scar but near enough that the now habitual shiver and list forward happens without any input from Delta. Locus so close and scent is, apparently, as enticing and compelling as the rest of him. It settles over Delta like a comforting blanket of security. The graze of his lips catches delta's breath in his throat- so small a thing and yet he is warmed through, squeezing Locus' hand in turn. He swallows, considers, turns his head to nose against Locus' jaw as he has seen York do many times before.

There's a small rumble of approval. That's good, didn't even need any prompting. If he can fall into what feels good and simply follow instinct, it might serve him better than any plans he might already have. Thought of course those desires might still have a chance to play themselves out.

For the moment, there's pleasure to be discovered in this. Gentle nuzzling, breathing in the scent of his hair and stroking his fingers back along his scalp before faint scraping his nails against his scalp, in that way Taylor always seems to appreciate.

"How does it feel so far?"

"Warm." Which could go without saying, but it's all consuming, radiating outward from the center of York's chest. Is this that sentiment? That connection that goes beyond anything he's felt before? "I have a heightened awareness of my lips- and yours."

Where they are. Where they aren't.

Delta shivers at the drag of nails, pressing back info the sensation despite his personal uncertainty regarding whether or not he enjoys it. A moments thought gives him his answer: he does. "I am enjoying this. Your proximity, the anticipation..."

"Then we'll keep going. I think I know what to do with that awareness of yours..."

With a faint curl of his lips, Locus shifts back, just enough to catch Delta's eyes with his own. Then he tips in, and it's slow, that progress to mold his lips against his, feeling the familiar warm, pliant feel of them, all while that hand still rested at the back of Delta's head, cradling against him.

It's damn near chaste, at first. ]

A few words and his pulse ticks higher, the flush in his cheeks trailing down his throat as he swallows. This he's seen, visited often. Something york enjoyed and it feels like a small eternity between their eyes meeting and their lips touching. A faint involuntary sound shivers out of Delta. Surprised despite knowing it was coming. Perhaps by the intensity of sensation or the realization that yes, they're doing this.

Whatever the reason he leans into the kiss, free hand slipping up to settle almost delicately against Locus' shoulder. Spend a lifetime operating inside a suit of power armor- you tend to adjust for stresses that might nit exist otherwise.

Delicate or no, Locus has got him. He can feel that it's not hesitation so much as the uncertainty that keeps his touch light, and he nudges closer. Teases teeth across Delta's lower lip before flicking a tongue gently across the crease of his mouth. They're small gestures in comparison, but that's what he needs.

Little steps, slowly immersing himself and adjusting. That first, soft noise is as sweet as anything, and his fingers curl and stroke through his hair, reassuring.

Small variables added to a currently simple equation, settling into a whole new process. if teeth then shiver, if tongue then part lips. If nudge then follow, head tilting back, fingers curling tight in Locus' shirt. Another, lower twist of sound shivers out of him as he tastes that warmth, Locus' breath. Tentative he slips the tip of his tongue out to trace the seam of Locus' lips in turn. Mimicking his motions until he has enough to try acting on his own.

It's how these things are learned, more often than not. So Delta earns a response with his actions. When he darts his tongue out, there's an answer flick of his own, warm and coaxing. Encouraging him to do more, to take more for himself. This was meant to be for him, after all.

Meanwhile, Locus contemplates leaning him back into the sheets, although it might be too soon for that. They'd see. Give it a moment or two more.

If his tongue, more of Locus' tongue, and that is enough to prompt a louder noise low in his throat, a longer flick of his tongue in turn. Chasing that slick twist of muscle as he pulls himself close, all but painted against Locus' side. It's so warm. So very warm and he feels that awareness spread, suddenly caught in the glide of their tongues, the hand in his hair. Tentatively he slips his hand up to stoke Locus', fingers combing gently.

And Locus hums under those fingers, eyes sliding shut. How he melts under that touch, sagging slightly before coming to, and finally nudging Delta back into the waiting sheets, smooth and clean, just behind him.

A little maneuvering and he's got a knee on either side of his hips to keep the weight off of him, but there's no rush. More slow, lazy kissing is just fine by him.

Another variable added to the equation that is this experience- constant contact equals ease, a variation would provide...what? It's simple enough to curl his fingers just so and apply his nails against Locus' scalp, even as he's guided back. There's the momentary alarm at being prone and vulnerable but-

It is Locus. They trust Locus and he wouldn't ever do anything to cause them harm.

Gradually he untangles his hand from Locus' fingers and rests it on his waist. hip would be more appropriate but baby steps are a thing.

He's actually doing well, from Locus's standpoint. He takes that next step without prompting, and Locus breaks the kiss only to nuzzle down over his jaw, to nibble across the familiar stiff lines before dipping lower, moving across his throat.

Just a lazy scrape of teeth, a flicker of tongue. All while smoothing his hands up along his sides, down again over his hips. See? Easy. Don't even have to think about it.

Waist to ribs, feeling the slow thud of Locus' pulse, nails again on his scalp from crown to nape and there's the familiar buzz of an AI implant. Strange how this one is set up, stranger still how it seems to warm under his fingers-

Delta bypasses it and resumes smoothing his hand back up into Locus' hair. Felix isn't involved in this. Just them.

A quiet prompting from York has his hand slipping down to Locus' hip, squeezing as his head falls back. Teeth should hurt but it's so light a scrape it only brings his nerves to crackling awareness in time for Locus' tongue. "Ah-"

Good. It. It's good.

If he's this sensitive now, just imagine what it would be like once Locus had applied his mouth elsewhere.

But for now, he's taking his time. Seeking out that pulsepoint in his throat and sucking against it gently, kneading with his teeth before laving his tongue across the mark in a warm swipe. Just enough to leave a faint mark beneath the surface of his skin.

And those lips skate downward, closing around the jut of a collarbone.

"Still feeling good?"

Teeth, vein, his mind skitters through calculations on clamping, damage, bleeding out- his pulse rockets, his breath goes tight, shallow until York reaches forward enough to calm him. It is only Locus. Locus who wants them to enjoy this, to feel good, who would never hurt them.

The momentary anxiety subsides leaving only that hyperawareness of his mouth, his tongue, the inevitable trail they are taking. Delta swallows, fingers twitching in Locus' hair as he deliberately tips his head back to offer him more room to work. "Affirmative."

He swallows thickly, his other hand skidding up to curl in Locus' hair. It feels the safest place right now. "Should I- ah. Disrobe?"

"If you like."

One more kiss and Locus leans back, pushing himself up onto his knees to allow Delta the room to do as he pleases. And to observe that flush under his skin, of course, the darkened red mark against his throat, the tousled appearance of his hair and his slight breathlessness.

He certainly looks like he's enjoying himself.

Just get the shirt off, bud, don't worry about being graceful.

It is a simple thought to have, a more difficult one to execute as there is this...need. To impress or otherwise entice Locus. Something of a compulsion, something of habit, and he's glad York opted for a button down for this very reason. Easier to remove slowly than a t-shirt.

Carefully he reaches up to unfasten the first button and it is so different from peeling out of armor- and yet just as intimate. His eyes dip down for a moment as he finesses the next few buttons before they catch on Locus' lips and his hand goes still, mind wild with speculation.

And at that moment, something ticks in the back of Locus's head. Something remembered, and he smirks faintly before lowering his head, lips playing over the back of Delta's fingers. Finding the button is easy, but teasing it open takes an admirable amount of skill. Taylor had been more clever and agile about it, but Locus is slow, purposeful.

Teeth and tongue manage to work one button open, before sinking down to the next, with a brief glance upwards to catch the look on Delta's face.

York and Delta's minds stutter to an absolute halt at the brush of lips over his fingers. Delta's in confusion, York's in tense anticipation. Delta- wasn't aware of this particular trick. Something York recalled doing now and then to impress someone but-

It is incredibly impressive. His breath stutters in his chest, fingers twisting about to stroke Locus' cheek, eyes rapt upon the movement of his lips, tongue.

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