amicustenebris | Duplicity

[ It's gentle, again. Every move telegraphed. Carver will think about that later, try to pull it apart and search for the meaning within it. What it means that another person looked at him and decided to go this slow, to take such care to ensure there's no pain. Like that time before, with the razor. And then Gold goes lower, and those thoughts are just gone.

Carver bows his head with a hiss, his hand on Gold's shoulder. Just holding, for now. Breathing with it, that flash of warm pleasure.

It feels good - uncomplicated, and good. And he lets himself react, to want it. He holds very still, and it -

It's just good. ]

[ Again, no signals to stop, so further he advances, his hands handling the heft of him, a mixture of a gentle hold and massage, working everything his lips will not reach while his mouth worries about careful manipulation. He could not say whether this is something he is good at or not -- he just has some general idea what would be the most sensitive and what wouldn't, what would feel good, what should be handled with care.

There's no room really to hope he is doing well or worry he is not. But to feel the hand on his shoulder, to feel every tensing muscle, every shiver -- all enough to force a rush through him as well, and he moans. ]

[ He can feel it when Gold moans, the vibration of it, and - yeah. Yeah, all right. That's doing it for him. Carver bites back a groan, head bowed, and his hand resting on Gold's shoulder. Shivering, now. It's been a long time since anyone's done this for him and there's the same weird intensity to the moment that nearly everything he does with Gold has.

Not for the first time, he thinks of the razor. Of baring his throat and telling himself it didn't involve trust. That it was just a moment, a test like all the others, and he'd survive it just the same.

Survival's the only thing that really matters these days. If you're alive, then you can fight. If you can fight, then you can do anything.

But this is different. Stranger, somehow. He's not certain it's something that can be won.

Carver shivers again, holding as still as he can, and reaches out to run his fingers through Gold's hair. He's aching, fighting to hold still, and it just -

Feels good. Not much does these days. ]

[ He couldn't have explained it if prompted, how every little movement, that shudder, the hand in his hair affects him. He doesn't have a fixation on any specific part of a man or woman, even if he can seem that way, just as anyone else might be. But being wanted? Being seen as something erotic in his own right? Once it clicks, he feels it -- any attempt to move on without voicing his pleasure would have failed.

For a moment he shudders, the sound that rumbles up his throat not quite a moan, something perhaps a little helpless.

It redoubles his efforts. His tongue moves over him in heavier strokes; his hands have more purpose, learning him with as much intent as coaxing him. ]

Fuck.

[ It comes out soft, just like before. He can feel everything like this. That sound Gold makes, the way he shudders in turn. The way that he works Carver - no surprise that it's thorough. That Gold commits to this the way he's committed to everything in front of him. Not like a soldier - not like one of Carver's people - but with an intensity that Carver understands, even admires.

It hits harder than it has any right to.

Carver shivers again, swallowing hard, and trails his fingers through Gold's hair. Rubbing at his head - always, always gentle. ]

You keep - hah - you keep doing that, I'm gonna come.

[ A soft warning. He'd like that, he thinks. And he'd like returning the favor. ]

[ There was something of a soldier in him, but that was a very long time ago. Gold commits now because it is that to him: a commitment. He is taking care of someone he has decided he will take care of. See to what they need. What can make them -- if not happy, then as content as possible.

And someone in this arrangement, neither of them wanting to be here, should have some satisfaction.

His hands continue to move with a steadiness, his tongue and lips demand wordlessly. Invite. But that moan? Something more like a plea. ]

[ That noise again, vibrating through him. Carver shivers, hissing out a low sound. He'll remember that after. He'll remember that for a good long while, the way that Gold moaned. ]

Good. 's good -

[ Carver bites back a groan, bowing his head. He's quiet when he comes. Shivering, again. But he shifts his hand to cup the back of Gold's neck and that - like before - is gentle. ]

[ Even when Gold finishes, he does so with care, though there is a slight tremor to his movements as he (for lack of a better word) tidies, keeping one hand on him, an assuring caress to continue contact rather than just suddenly leave him without. A subtle brush at the corner of his mouth -- to address a mess or just the feeling that there might be one.

His face falls -- some internal part of him always thinks first to retreat, at least in some small way; once outside the moment where he controls everything has passed, the same power does not remain, in his eyes. But while it still wanes he can still savor the contact; he nuzzles his cheek against Carver's hand. ]

Are you --? [ Satisfied? All right? ]

[ The endorphin rush comes and conquers, and there's a good long moment where Carver feels nothing but calm and warm. Content just to exist in the moment, with another person, with Gold leaning into the touch. Carver shifts to cup his cheek, smoothing his thumb along the line of Gold's jaw.

Gentle, like before. ]

Mhmm.

[ Yeah, he's feeling pretty damn great. ]

Gonna let me return the favor?

[ The way he worded it was immediately reassuring, in a way, reminding Gold that he was in a position to say yes or no. But the way his gaze immediately wandered, showing some uncertainty still. ]

...You want that?

[ There's more question in that tone than he perhaps intended outright. Better than what had been on his lips a millisecond before that, likely a repeat of that earlier you don't have to worry about that. It's what he's more accustomed to. ]

[ That's a telling look, isn't it? Carver knows how to read people, has some rudimentary psychological training. But the truth is, he mostly just pays attention. People don't expect it from him.

He shifts, pressing his thumb against Gold's lip. A light touch, easy to shake. But meaningful. ]

Yeah.

[ Simple, no jokes or games. ]

How do you want me?

[ He responds immediately to the touch on hips lips; eyes immediately center and focus. The little shaking breath that escapes, telling.

He is suddenly very aware of his own body and how constricted everything feels.

A tender kiss, there; it keeps him grounded, engaged, and less like his clothes are literally the only thing stopping him from floating away. ]

...I've already had you.

[ Said perhaps more blunt than a man with more experience and charisma would manage. He readjusts in his head. ]

I think the question is more how you want me.

[ He swallows, and some of the pretense drops away for half a second, he looks sheepish. ]

...And please say 'off the floor,' at least, because this is very uncomfortable.

[ Yeah. That's telling, too. The way that Gold refocuses, suddenly. Carver kisses him back, loose and easy, and just grins. He likes this man, he thinks. That's a dangerous thing. But they aren't enemies now. Maybe they won't be for a while.

Maybe that would be all right. ]

I'm easy. Not much that I don't like, so long as nobody gets violent.

[ And even that has its rare moments. He taps Gold's chin, thoughtful. ]

C'mon, up. You wanna keep your clothes on, I can work with that.

...Likewise.

[ Despite his age, he is still not the most experienced. Still, he doesn't think anything you would do to injure somebody or get them away from you should be done in the bedroom unless they are not supposed to be there. And he cannot really wrap his mind around such things.

When he stands, the motion is all very careful, not just to maintain balance but to also avoid making himself additionally uncomfortable...or look foolish. All a very difficult feat to achieve in one go.

His hand brushes the collar of his shirt uncertainly. ]

I don't -- I mean...

[ Carver tips his head to the side. He doesn’t guess this time, just watches. ]

You don’t what?

[ He can be patient when it suits him. It’s rare for Carver to slow down long enough to try, but he has his moments. He knows how to hurt people - has made a life out of rendering strangers into smaller pieces - but this is different. Has to be different.

So it is. And he’s calm now, for however long it lasts. ]

[ His face falls as he pulls in a calming sigh. ]

I suppose I am not accustomed to it being addressed at all.

[ He'll go with that, anyway. This is usually the part where you roll over and fall asleep. ]

Much of this is newer to me than it probably should be.

I got that feeling.

[ There’s no judgement there. Carver’s got a talent for reading people and he has no reason to use it against Gold right now, so he doesn’t. He just tips his head back and watches, reaching out a hand to trail his fingers along Gold’s arm. ]

You wanna fuck me?

[ Been a while since he’s done that, but sure. Why not? Carver watches Gold curiously, taking it all in. ]

If not, I’ll just return the favor.

[ There's a little rush of breath at the question. ]

...A favor for a favor is enough. I mean --

[ As his brain crosses wires trying to decide what is more vulgar: the implication that he would tell someone he intends to mount them or the implication that he would tell someone to suck him off. ]

[ Carver tips his head back. The calm feel’s settled nice and warm in his chest. All the tension bled out, his thoughts slowed to a pleasant crawl. It won’t last - never does - but for now, he enjoys the feeling. That peace, and the way that Gold’s looking at him. How his breath catches at what Carver offers him.

It doesn’t have to be complicated. Not right now, at least. ]

It’s not about enough. Tell me what you want.

[ His mouth quips. A faint smile. ]

I’m calm right now. It can just feel good for a while.

[ He wishes he was calm. But he latches onto that thought, just as surely as he pulls himself close to kiss him again -- not really allowing it to occur to him until after he'd done it that it might have been the wrong idea at that exact moment. ]

That's all I want.

[ To feel good. It comes out almost a gasp. ]

I just want you.

[ Carver hums into the kiss, the warm feeling settled nice in his chest. It won’t last but that’s all right. Sometimes all you get are moments, and he likes how it feels when Gold decides he wants something. That he’s going to reach for it. ]

Good.

[ He reaches out to lay his hand on Gold’s hip again, tugging him a little closer. ]

Then let me.

[ For now Gold isn't concerned about whether this will be fleeting; he assumes it is an arrangement for the time being and nothing more. But he can feel something in him that would accept more, that finds comfort and safety enough in this, that if he's not telling himself stories, there is something more than a night in this. But for now it's just the night, and he can be satisfied with that, too.

He has to be or he isn't going to survive this place.

The hand on him, even through cloth, is like fire, but he doesn't pull away from it. ]

I won't stop you.

[ His fingers trail the finer lines of Carver's shoulder, up to his jaw again, and he pulls in to cover his mouth with his own again. Kisses are easier, even if it carries a lot of weight to him. Magic comes from them, in his homeworld. And here it allows him the cover to be hungry, even a little vulnerable, when words fail him. ]

[ Like before, Carver tips his head back so he can kiss Gold back - careful and through, because they have time, and there’s no sense in rushing when it feels good to slow down. Carver knows he can only rarely stand that, understands himself to know there’s something in his brain chemistry that’s always pushing, pushing, pushing toward action, that cannot endure stillness. Or can endure it only in rare, fleeting moments.

He wants to enjoy this while it lasts, so he does.

Simple.

Carver hums into the kiss, and he shifts his hand to trail along the seam of Gold’s pants. And then a little lower, kneading against him, just to see if he’ll make that noise again. ]

Nnh...

[ Something like that noise, at any rate. Caught off guard somehow, but softened in a breath of unbidden air. How someone can turn that tense and yet still shake like a leaf is unknowable, but the hand near Carver's jaw takes a steadying hold of his shoulder instead.

There's no question of whether he is awakening down there; he's clearly already straining, and had been ignoring it until now. ]

Good.

[ Softer than before. Carver gives him a moment to breathe with it, get used to the sensation, and then he repeats the motion. Kneading, letting the press of fabric do some of the work for him. A tease, but not a malicious one.

Sometimes, it’s nice just to feel.

Carver doesn’t draw it out long, though, and starts tugging Gold’s pants down. Not all the way, just enough to touch him more closely. Skin to skin, his fingers flexing.

Gentle, to start. ]

You can grab my hair. If you want.

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