anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue Voicetesting Thread

[ He's never far, that'd been part of the plan- so when Locus' hand curls around his arm? Taylor turns halfway through grabbing what they need to press his lips against his skin. His shoulder, his cheek his lips. Soft and sweet and absolutely sappy- he's proud. He can't help it.

It's stupid little shit like this he doesn't really get anymore- and that's fine! He's cool with it. But having an outlet...it's nice.

Even with the momentary diversion it doesn't take long to wipe them both down. To start applying medigel on those tiny, deep bruises- but it does take awhile because his hands keep moving in between applications to smooth through Locus' hair or tangle their hands together.

Pointless little points of contact that just. Center him. ]

How you feeling?

[ Locus, for his part, accepts the attention, leaning into the kisses, allowing his fingers to curl around Taylors with a huff that could be relief. This isn't really something he allows himself normally.

Yet things are shifting. It's becoming less about outlets and necessary stress relief and simple mutual appreciation and more...well, something else. Something like real affection, something warm and binding and terrifying in its own way. But he's not afraid right now. He's tilting into those touches like a man starved as he slowly starts to rise back up. ]

Mm. A little sore, actually.

[ The corner of his mouth ticks. ]

Good sore?

[ Taylor pauses in the middle of applying medi gel to the inside of Locus' thighs, head tilted to watch the play of emotions over his face. All good, it seems. Still floating slowly, still warm, still content. That's all he needs to see to keep going, stopping only to kiss the nearest patch of unbruised skin. ]

That was...fucking amazing.

[ Thighs, groin, those two bruises on the underside of his cock, nipples. Even the welts get an even coat of medi gel before Taylor wipes his hands clean and settles on his side facing Locus, hands slipping up to comb through his hair. ]

You're amazing.

[ It's going to be a bitch in the morning. But for right now, it's perfect. Just the right amount of warm, tingling ache, though he does shiver when the gel gets to the length of his now-soft cock.

That...had been something. ]

Your doing.

[ Locus rumbles, leaning closer and catching his lips quietly with his own. It just...it feels good. Feels right. There's nothing left of the worry or tension from the mission, just this.

Them.

This is getting pretty damn serious, isn't it? When he draws back, there's a faint question to the knot of his brow. ]

I just helped get you there. You held up all on your own.

[ He'd been so careful, he had to be. This is a trust Locus hasn't ever really given out before and he'll be damned if he fucks it up. But there's more here and he...doesn't know. What that means. How much of this he gets to keep when Locus is up and he goes comfortably distant.

Doesn't know how much of this is comfortable or easy for him when Taylor knows damn well that feeling like this, for him? Is the easiest damn thing in the world.

It's what gets him in trouble. ]

Mhmm?

[ Putting it into words certainly isn't easy. Not outside the moment, where the context shifts. But he knows what he wants. He knows, to an extent, what he feels.

Rather, that he does feel. Somewhere inside that empty void he's carved out for himself something is starting to take root. He could pluck it out now, before there's time for it to develop a stranglehold.

Instead his fingers drift down, twine around Taylor's hand, thumb tracing the back of his knuckles thoughtfully. ]

...meant what I said.

[ But he has a way of looking up from under those furrow brows like it's still a question. Like he's waiting to see what Taylor does with that. ]

[ It takes Taylor a moment to flick back through their conversations, both recent and past, to pick out what he could mean.

His? Yours. Theirs.

That this is real.

He huffs quietly, lifting their joined hands to drop a kiss against Locus' fingers. ]

I meant it too.

[ Which is as really as close to the conversation as Locus wants to brush. There's a pleased curve to his mouth as one leg slips over to curl around Taylor's, a quiet request to stay a while longer while he levels out.

And maybe he'll need that distance again, but this? They can enjoy this just a little while longer, surely. Before he panics and tries to withdraw, out of habit. ]

[ It's worth the distance, the panic if he gets this for a little while. These flickers of what Sam might have been like before he became Locus. What Locus could be like if he chose in the future.

Taylor winds close, arms tucked around Locus' waist, forehead pressed to Locus' as he waits for him to level out. ]

[ It comes in degrees. The warmth fades, or at least the wide spread of it. The places they connect and touch remain warm, but he's aware of more. The hum of the engine, the lack of clothing and the particular aches in his body. The reason for that, what had happened over the last few hours...

Slowly, his fingers untangle. His leg draws back, and he takes a breath.

He's an idiot. ]

There you are.

[ Taylor gives Locus his space, pulling away enough to reach up and snag the bottle of water he'd grabbed earlier. ]

Here, you should drink.

[ Honestly? Taylor probably should too but- taking care of Locus comes first. When did that become a thing? ]

Hn. You too.

[ Maintaining the facade of calm is relatively easy. Shifting focus, for one thing. He does take the offered bottle, however, taking a swift swig before adjusting his gaze to somewhere in the far corner of the shuttle. ]

I know, I'm gett'n my own.

[ Standing does prompt a wince- fuck, he's gonna be sore later. Hell he's sore now, but he does what he can to ignore it. Take those few steps to the cooler, grab the water, leaning against the wall to drink instead of sitting on the bunk.

Giving Locus his space. ]

Good.

[ The spare clothes are nearby, he knows. Slowly, he starts to push himself up to go investigate their whereabouts. Better than sitting and letting those thoughts bounce around his head uninterrupted.

That one string of thoughts in particular that come in a very particular voice. Something he doesn't need right now. ]

[ Awkward.

He figured, though. It'd been awkward last time too- and even knowing what it is, what that space is like, what aftercare should and could be? Locus is...not entirely comfortable with examining that fuzzy space afterward. What's said, what's done.

Taylor swallows down another gulp of water and tries to drown his disappointment. He knew what he was getting into with this. Locus doesn't people well. He's still trying to sort himself out, yadda, yadda, yadda. It's not fair to have expectations.

Doesn't make him want to have them any less.

Water, clothes, applying medi gel to his own throat and shoulder once he's got his pants on, wincing at the bruise. ]

[ That disappointment hangs in the air. Locus is aware of it, even if no readily apparent solution makes itself known. He just dresses, swift as he can, but by the time he turns back it look as though York is on the same page and tending to himself.

To the bruise he'd left.

Locus hesitates, then crosses the shuttle, reaching to brush his fingers against the mark where it stands apparent. ]

[ Physical intimacy is not emotional intimacy. You're partners- that's all it needs to be. You're friends. Be glad to have that. Compatible sexual preferences does not a healthy relationship make.

Maybe one day he'll actually listen to himself. For now he focuses on the middle distance, listening to D go through the data and physics of the latest module. Blinks but doesn't start at the brush of Locus' hand, eyes refocusing and flicking up to him. ]

It's a hell of a hickey.

[ When in doubt, humor. A hooked smirk, an easy smile. An easier out. ]

You did ask.

[ Taylor is a bad liar. He knows that about him. But he smiles sometimes when he doesn't mean it, uses humor to hide behind. It's a pattern even he can notice.

But he lets him. He nods and traces the edge of it before pulling away, something sinking like a stone in his stomach. ]

...I'm going to see how much longer before we arrive.

[ Never mind that he could ask, here. But instinct when feeling weak, feeling exposed, is still to retreat. Old habits die hard. ]

[ I ask for a lot of things that hurt me.

It's there- an unkind thought for a complicated situation but he's not gonna say boo. He's smarter than that- sometimes. Not always. ]

And I don't regret it.

[ Just as honest, slightly less bitter. His brows lift, almost daring Locus to make something of it. He said what he meant and meant what he said, he's not the one with a problem here. ]

Sure. I'll clean up our suits, maybe grab a nap.

Alright.

[ Maybe it's fine. Maybe paranoia is getting the better of him again. Or maybe something is wrong and what could he expect, really? Having no idea what he was doing, thinking because he read a few articles on the internet he'd be able to understand how not mishandle this?

His gaze flits away again, and he moves swiftly as he can towards the cockpit. Once there, however, he just slips into the seat, eyes trailing along the stars they're moving past.

Taylor may not regret it yet, but there's no doubt in his mind that he will. This can't end well. They're both courting disaster, at this point. Swallowing thickly, he lets his hand drift up to rest over his eyes.

Just push it down. Harder. Harder, if necessary. He can deal with this sudden drop on his own. He's dealt with worse. ]

[ When Locus doesn't come back- well. He gives him a little bit. Five, six minutes before it pricks at the back of his mind that, hey, this was a pretty intense scene.

That Locus hadn't ever really been in subspace before.

That he'd been tense when he'd come out of it, squirrely-

And he just let him wander off on his own.

A+ job there, Taylor. You're the best. No, really, you're so fucking smart-

He pushes off the bunk midway through cleaning a bit of soot from one of Locus' pauldrons, slipping into the cockpit to check and- damn. NOt a good sign. ]

Locus? Shit. [ Shit shit shit. ] Talk to me.

[ Fortunately he hears him coming, with more than enough time to clear his throat, rub idly at one eye before dropping his hand and turning to look over his shoulder. ]

I...I was just...

[ But his mind blanks on an adequate task that might have kept him here. Or a reason his voice might sound thick, tight.

He can control this, he can. ]

Trying to handle this on your own?

[ He quirks a brow but his voice remains gentle. ]

Remember when I crashed hard your first time driving? It's body chemistry. You didn't do anything wrong then and you sure as shit didn't do anything wrong just now.

[ Offering as much opportunity as he possibly could for Locus to tell him to fuck off, Taylor reaches over to rest a hand on his shoulder. ]

What do you need?

I don't know.

[ Self-assessment? Still not his forte.

All he knew for certain was that the drop-off had been steep, fueled by or fueling these thoughts, these doubts circling his head in the meanwhile. The assurance that he would in fact fail Taylor, that he had no business getting this involved with him in the first place.

His jaw works tightly, eyes flickering back to the dark beyond the pressurized glass. ]

What are you thinking, then? I know you don't really like talk'n about it and you can tell me to fuck off if you want- but if I know what's stressing you out? I can help. I want to help.

[ He circles around, dropping to settle on his heels in front of Locus, hand slipping from his shoulders to rest light and idle on his knees. Just. Points of contact meant to be grounding, nonthreatening. ]

No judgement zone, remember?

Red vs Blue Voicetesting Thread

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