anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue Voicetesting Thread

[ The only problem with this position is that there's no way for him respond, save vocally. There's no way to touch, to look at him, nothing to do with his hands. Instinctively they fold back behind him, as though at parade rest, so Taylor can at least see when his fingers curl into his palm. Something other than the slight shortening of his breath when that warm tongue drifts over sensitive skin.

Relaxing is easy, like this. Just letting his mind settle, focusing solely on the movement of his mouth. ]

[ That might've been the point, really. Take away potential distractions, give him something to focus on. Even if Taylor does eventually spare a hand to slip up and curl around Locus', jaw working so he could press deeper, work his tongue in tight circles until he could finally press in. Just the tip to start, shallow little thrusts while Locus' body adjusts.

Something about doing this when Locus is sweaty and salty just- clenches in the gut. Makes it that much more raw and real. ]

[ A small huff of breath slips free, almost without sound, and Locus's head tips back as he lets his eyes slide shut entirely. It's so much different than a finger, the pressure different, the feel of that warm, wet tongue wiggling its way inside. It feels vulgar in a way that twists in his gut, curls his toes, but it's good. So good.

The least he can do is take another deep breath and train himself to relax further, to let him in as far as he wants. ]

[ He does get one good, slow thrust in before grunting and pulling back, teeth nipping at the curve of Locus' ass. ]

Spread your legs a little. Or a lot. Or bend over. Whatever you're feeling.

[ His hand maintains that slow glide up and down Locus' thigh, slipping around to tease the skin on the insides with a slow drag of his nails, a careless flick near the crease where thigh meets hip. ]

[ Another huff and his hands unlock, and despite the desire to stay rooted to the spot and letting Taylor continue to drag his nails over his skin, leaving those little pinpricks of sensation trailing down his thighs...

He steps over instead towards the bunk at the other end of the shuttle, with a backward glance. It'll be easier on both of them this way.

Settling onto his knees, he knows they're going to ache by the end of this. But the leverage of leaning over onto the bunk allows him to settle his weight off of them as much as possible, and it certainly gives Taylor a far better angle to get what he's after. ]

Goddamn.

[ Now there's a view. The long twist of Locus' spine, the broad expanse of his shoulders, that generous swell of ass and that look over his shoulder? That 'well, get on with it' look? Taylor takes a moment just to admire what he's got in front of him before slipping into place, hands sliding up to nude Locus' thighs apart just a tick. Just enough to give him room to lean in and really dip in, tongue thrusting in a firm point.

There it was- not the angle he's looking for but he's got room to work now, hands slipping from thighs to hook his thumbs in and spread Locus' cheeks that much wider, cracking his jaw that much farther to thrust his tongue that much deeper. To really start thrusting in filthy and slow. ]

[ Every time that phrase slips out, every time he catches Taylor giving him that look, it does something. Curls warm and deep. One day, maybe Taylor will tire of that awe, or Locus will become accustomed to it, but he hasn't. Not quite yet.

And then it's followed by what comes damn close to worship, the way he curls his tongue and strokes, the reverence with which he works him open and slides inside, and it is filthy, and wrong, and perfect.

Locus rests his head against folded arms and lets his legs spread further with a barely audible groan. ]

[ Earning that first one's the most difficult. Always. And it's always one of the most rewarding to pull out of Locus with tongue and lip and the slow drag of his nails on skin. Sure, he sacrifices depth and leverage to scrape welts along the inside of Locus' thighs but he gains momentum.

Gains a brighter spark of that heat that he urges along with faster, deeper thrusts of his tongue, with shallow flicks and his own encouraging groan. ]

[ It resonates, hums against his skin and catches under his ribs. Locus draws in a sharper breath, teeth gritting together as another low, strained sound slips free, despite the effort to rein it in. His fingers curl into his palms even tighter, and Taylor can undoubtedly feel the way his thighs tense under his hands. ]

[ Nuh-uh. Let him hear those. His nails dig in a little harder, scraping rough lines up the insides of Locus' thighs, hooking around to curl around his balls. Not tugging yet- just holding. The threat lingered. Not that it's much of a threat with how well Locus responds to it, how it punches the air out of his lungs.

Taylor is not at all above playing dirty here. ]

Nngh...

[ That gets a definite reaction. His shoulders hitch upwards, and what follows is wordless, but goddamn near wanton, low and needful as it drags out of his mouth. And the rest of him seems primed and attentive, more so than before, waiting to see if that threat gets carried out. ]

[ Anticipation is key- Taylor maintains that hold for awhile, busy thrusting his tongue in slow and deep, withdrawing only to flick the tip around the rim of his hole as he does start to pull back. Not the usual sharp yang this time. It's gradual, measured. Sustained.

Sharp works best and he'll get that- in a second. ]

[ The scope of focus narrows further, flitting between the faint, gentle licking and the growing tension, the stretch that pulled his whole body taut, breath coming shorter as a result. Taylor knew by now what felt good, what ached in just the right way.

And that's what this was. An ache. A need, reaching for something more and teased with the possibility. Locus's tongue ran briefly over his lips. ]

I told you...what I wanted...

[ True enough. Turnabout is fair play- only if he actually lays out what's going through his head.

Taylor pulls away and rests his cheek against the small of Locus' back, humming. What does he want? What does he want... ]

I wanna know what it takes to get you to beg. [ Even that first time with the edging, Locus hadn't. There'd been moments when he'd seemed close but- 'please' never came out of his mouth. ] And what I have to do to make you scream. Thoughts?

...I wouldn't know.

[ Not a boast, or meant to incite, but the honest truth. It's not something he thinks on, not something he knows to expect or when to expect. And there's a faint note of disappointment there...that his answer isn't so easy as Taylor's had been. That it isn't something as readily delivered on. ]

S'okay.

[ He drops a kiss that would be positively chaste almost anywhere else against Locus' tailbone, hand around his balls giving a short, sharp tug. ]

I have a few ideas if you don't mind me bringing some tools into play here. Otherwise it's nails and teeth all over.

[ The noise he makes is like a gut punch, the air rushing out of him as his nails turn into the cot, and a shudder runs the length of his body as that spike of pained pleasure surges upward.

When he gets his breath back again, he simply nods. He trusts him to do as he will. ]

Sit tight.

[ He gives Locus' balls a quick squeeze before releasing them, slipping away to one of the side compartments. Lube, rags to clean up- ah, there they are. He returns with a rattle of plastic, tiny little pincers that he sets up on the mattress near Locus' knee. ]

These are gonna sting like a sonovabitch but I think you'll like them.

[ Locus lifts his head to watch as Taylor makes his way across the shuttle, taking the moment to breathe deeply, to relax. On his return, Locus merely arches an eyebrow, shifting slight to sit back onto his heels. ]

You've given this some thought.

More than a little, yeah.

[ His mind does tend to wander. Taylor plucks up one of the clamps- small, toothy things that they are, and presses it into Locus' hand as he settles against his back. ]

They got a pretty tight grip. More intense than I'd like to use on myself- I'm more for sustained, thudding kinda pain, but this should work for you.

And...they're meant for...

[ The idea of bringing things into this is new. Before, sometimes you'd used what was nearby, but it wasn't this planned out. But Taylor plans, he plots, he prepares. He installs bars in the shower and leaves lubricant and towels in the shuttle and buys clamps -- the same, he thinks, that he saw in his bedside dresser the first time he was in his room, come to think of it. ]

Skin.

[ He drags his fingers up the inside of Locus' thigh, pinching skin with his fingers before picking up a clamp. He holds it open, chin tucked against Locus' shoulder, waiting. ]

Say when.

[ Oh. Well.

He's collected some idea of what's going to happen here, lowering the clamp back down to rest beside his elbow before nodding, once. Alright. Whatever he's going to do, he's got his permission to go ahead with it.

Already his brain is trying to anticipate the feel of it, to steel himself. ]

[ They aren't sharp enough to cut into skin, not really- but the tight clasp and points to the edges dig in enough to make it feel like that's what's going on. Taylor catches that skin between the teeth of the clamp and releases slowly, letting it sink in, pinch, and stay.

Not the tightest he's ever seen, but pretty damn close. ]

How is it?

[ The sharpness is immediate, unrelenting. He's been stabbed before, cut, he knows what it feels like, knows this isn't that, but the sharp spike is the same, and he can feel the warmth of blood rushing up under the skin as he grunts, strained.

There's a heady rush to accompany the pain, and it's hard to say which is stronger at this point. ]

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