amicustenebris | Duplicity

[ 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.

[ He lifts his hips to allow his trousers to come down further, and the contact there -- almost completely soundless that time, something swallowed back before he releases something with a little more controlled dignity.

While a hand snakes into the strands of Carver's hair, he resists the urge to grip too hard; just leverage enough to hold onto him, to steal his lips and pour wordless reaction into him. Drown out what could too easily become begging.

It's a losing battle, not to rock a little into his hand. ]

[ Carver sighs at the feel of Gold’s fingers carding through his hair, then getting a grip. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to feel. It hits him every time, a gesture that would be a threat in any other situation.

Here, it tethers him to the now.

He keeps one hand on Gold’s hip rubbing absent circles with his thumb. An easy touch, something grounding. He gives another stroke with the other, then leans forward and just takes Gold into his mouth. No preamble this time. It’s been a while since Carver’s done this, but it comes back easy enough. ]

Aah!

[ The fact that he doesn't clamp on harder is a testament to his patience, because he wasn't expecting Carver to move to it this quickly. The sudden wave of heat and wetness, immediately chased with something like humiliation -- there was zero control of his vocal cords in that moment, and immediately he is sucking in a breath to try to muster himself. ]

[ Yeah. That Got a reaction, all right. Carver hums a little, then draws back to catch his breath. His hand still steady on Gold’s hip. ]

Too much?

[ His free hand is technically what's keeping him upright at this point, planted firmly in the mattress so he can channel his tension somewhere without worry. When Carver lifts his head to address him, he cannot help but squirm as he opens his eyes, something in him a touch mortified, but just grateful he didn't beg him not to stop then and there.

Every sexual situation he has ever been in has involved him handling every detail, however self-sacrificing. It gives him a means to focus, to be that rock and allowing his partner to fall apart if they need to. He apparently crumbles very easily when he does not have that working to his advantage.

What a time to learn that about yourself. ]

I'm all right. ...Please go on. [ And forget that happened. ]

[ Caver gives him a thoughtful look, working Gold lightly with his hand. Some people don’t like all the attention on them. Can’t stand it. Reasons vary. ]

I can slow down.

[ No judgement. This feels nice, a warm feeling settling in his chest. Something like contentment. ]

Or keep doing this. [ He gives Gold a lick, to emphasize. ] Hmm? Like I said. I’m easy.

[ He doesn't hate it -- he would likely be a good deal more distressed if he did. Is he a little overwhelmed, however? Perhaps a smidge.

Learning that he is probably going to come off more vulnerable than he had anticipated? Well, he is going to have to accept that before he's in this situation with someone he doesn't trust.

Gold blinks as the thought occurs to him. He supposes right now? He does trust Carver.

He shudders as he bites back another gasping moan. The start of a smile at the corners of his mouth? Perhaps. ]

...It's...a lot. But please don't stop. I'm s-- [ He might have been about to apologize; he's not certain what for. ]

[ It seems best to take Gold at his word, so Carver does. Not for the first time, he thinks of that moment with the razor. How Gold has been steady even when Carver started to lose the thread. Only fair to return the favor, isn’t it?

So, he goes back to it. Keeps one hand steady on Gold’s hip and takes him in again. Slower this time, more deliberate. Always mindful of his teeth, but sometimes it feels good just to give in a little and focus on another person. When he draws back for breath, his voice is a little hoarse. ]

You wanna come, go ahead. Just not in my hair.

[ Anywhere else is fair game. He doesn’t like the mess in his hair, though. ]

[ While his reaction from there is a lot less sudden and startling, it's still not as withdrawn and controlled as he would personally like. There is little in the way of words, but sound -- when his sense comes back to him he'll have time to feel embarrassed that he wasn't quieter. Though maybe at one point some did come back, if only briefly; he clapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself, the one in Carver's hair never harsh -- he seems just as much taken with the feel of him under his fingers now as he was before, stroking and quietly encouraging but also just grounded.

The fact that he manages to keep his hips still is nothing short of commendable, really. When he does arrive, he does manage to warn before hand. It is blinding and too much and too good, and everything else it needed to be. ]

[ The hand in his hair stays grounding, gentle, and Carver presses into it thoughtlessly as he works. There's something satisfying about this part, feeling another person come undone and knowing it was because of him. Gold's quiet about it, except where he isn't.

That's nice, too.

Carver groans, and swallows, and that's just that. He draws back, squeezing Gold's hip fondly, and bows his head so he can just takes a moment to catch his breath.

Goddamn. ]

[ For a moment, both of them are just taking in air, and Gold as thought returns might wrestle momentarily just getting a handle on what he should do. Whether, once the deed is done, any more is wanted, or would be rejected.

A favor for a favor. If it were kept there then where is the line drawn?

But finally, he decides what feels right has little to do with that. He leans in and plants a kiss on the man's temple. ]

[ Carver stays quiet, head bowed, and just gets his breathing under control. His throat is a little sore, but not too bad. It's been a while but it turns out this comes back quick. And the calm feeling just spreads, warm and welcome through his chest.

The gesture catches him by surprise, though. It's -

Tender. And he starts, eyes flicking to Gold uncertainly. Then Carver just exhales, and shifts to rest his head against Gold's hip. Just for a moment. ]

[ There's a hand, still stroking his hair.

Maybe it's strange, if you look at where this started. But by now they've both had chances to be awful to each other (had their throats bare, both literally and figuratively) that neither of them have taken. And for now, whether there is anything else after this -- he's already decided that when this man is in this apartment, in this room with him? He won't treat him like he doesn't have a place here.

And people who have a place, matter. ]

[ Gold just keeps on petting his hair, letting Carver slump against him, and it just -

Happens.

His breathing steadies, eventually. He doesn't ask if he can stay. Asking would mean getting an answer and that would cross too many lines. But he breathes, and he presses against Gold, and for a little while, things go quiet.

Carver doesn't touch people much these days. Has no cause to. He has a feeling Gold doesn't, either.

Eventually, he lifts his head. Watches Gold, and doesn't say a word. What is there to say, at this point? ]

[ Gold doesn't break off that contact, though his other hand is largely doing the subtle work of cleaning himself up, closing what needs to be closed, letting the air cool and dry the very slight sheen of sweat appearing on his forehead. Their eyes meet, and it occurs to him then that perhaps is when at least one of them should have capacity enough to determine whether there is more to be done or if this is how they conclude.

The latter really isn't his style. ]

What can I get for you? [ A drink? A towel? ]

[ Carver leans into the touch. He doesn't say anything for a moment, just takes the contact for what it is. Something centering, and calm. ]

Water.

[ He ought to get his clothes back on, anyway. ]

Take a moment to relax, then. Please.

[ He takes his cane in hand again and stands, clothing already straightened when he opens one of the double doors and steps out. When he returns he sets a full glass on the nearest bedside table. He doesn't immediately approach again, beyond that, without clear body language that it's welcome. ]

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