Most call me Gold. (
amicustenebris) wrote2022-02-20 10:34 pm
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Duplicity - IC Inbox

You have reached the office of Mister Gold. I cannot answer you at the moment. Please leave a detailed message, and I will return your call at my earliest convenience.
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So, he stops. And he waits, his eyes focused on nothing. ]
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...Tell me it's not just that. I don't care of it's a lie.
[ Frown. ]
I don't need you to make any vows. I don't need you to tell me you love me. None of that. But don't say it's because I'm here.
[ Because now that he's said it out loud, he won't be able to do anything else if that's in his head the whole time. ]
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He tips his head back. He can't meet Gold's eyes. Has no idea whether the man's even looking at him. But it bares his throat just the same and that's either a threat or a promise, and even Carver can't decide which one he's swung toward.
It's that sort of moment. Changeable. ]
It's not.
[ This part, at least, isn't a lie. ]
It's because you're the one who came when I was hurt.
[ Carver snorts. Bitter laughter. ]
Do whatever you want with that.
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As much as this place seems to want it from him, he can't just be with people because they're convenient. Because they're there. Because it's so ubiquitous to so many here that there are few they would say no to. And because he can't wrap his mind around that logic, or pretend to -- as unwanted as he often feels? He can't function if he is just there for them, either. Because unexceptional is just as bad as unwanted, and he's going to drown in this place if he's alone in that feeling. He knows it.
So for a moment, he isn't, and everything falls away.
He leans down and grasps Carver's shoulder, pulling him up into a kiss. ]
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Good enough. ]
Yeah. You're not shy at all, are you?
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[ Which isn't necessarily a denial.
Carver couldn't see the way Gold's gaze shifted away, or how his chin fell. And there's a momentary stumble before he rights himself, bent at not quite the right angle, where the foot of his cane slid instead of finding purchase, and his ankle threatened to buckle. He recovers, beginning to maneuver back toward the couch, but he stops just short of sitting. ]
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Carver stills, his hand tight on Gold's arm. ]
Here?
[ Low, hissed against Gold's mouth. It's a big couch, they'd have space. But there's also a bed and that might be fun, too. ]
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That depends entirely on how far you're planning ahead right now.
[ They could move later, or if he needed something, he could potentially summon it. But for now as wildly as his imagination might be running, he doubts it will escalate that much.
But he does need to sit, either way. ]
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[ He didn't. It's just happening. But he's good at improvising. Has to be. That's one of the rules. You roll with what's in front of you. Carver leans forward and kisses him hard, just to fucking do it. They're here, and Gold hasn't pushed him away, so he rolls with it.
And he's not really sure where anything else is right now. So. ]
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[ Just a little tease before he finally sits down and tugs him close again to cover any immediate rebuttal, drawing the other man's hands back to him, around him. ]
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It just is. So he sits down next to Gold, and puts his hands on Gold's arms to anchor himself. And kisses him again, just as hard as before.
Feels like the thing to do, so he does it. Don't need sight for that. ]
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...I believe, that you asked me to tell you what I wanted, or for you to guess.
[ And he kind of wants him to. As though he were the blind one, hearing Carver speak seems to be what's carrying every rush right now. ]
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Don't think about that. Press forward.
He tightens his grip on Gold's arms, then loosens it. Rubs up and down and leans in to kiss him again. Thoroughly. ]
I did.
[ He drags his teeth against Gold's lip. ]
And I'm guessing you want to take me apart while you don't muss those nice clothes once. You always seemed like the type. Hmm?
[ He grins. He wants the challenge of making Gold lose his cool. He thinks he's wanted that for a while. ]
Am I wrong?
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All of it might be enough to leave Carver thinking that he was on exactly the track he thinks he is. But for the one time he handed Carver the reigns to "return the favor" he has certainly presented that image. Well put together. Controlled. Thorough. A fairly complete profile could be put together from that.
And then ]
...You are.
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He knocks their foreheads together. Not hard. ]
Then enlighten me.
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[ When it's just him, taking care of someone else, and then he disappears from the picture.
The warmth in that added connection was everything, he seemed to relax at least a little against him.
Control with a partner is a careful thing; it is easy for him to assume. Familiar. Expected of him in some respects. But it's also what he does when he is with someone for whom he has to earn his right to be there. ]
This feels new. [ In so many ways. ] And I don't fully understand all the ways I want you, but I do.
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I don't know what that means, Gold.
[ He exhales through his teeth. ]
So you're gonna have to fucking tell me what you want, or I'm going to keep guessing and getting it wrong and then neither of us are getting off.
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[ He kisses along the line of his jaw. ]
It feels more powerful, less helpless. It's why you want to see me [ He swallows ] ...fall apart.
[ Because for a few minutes that gave Carver a good deal more control. ]
I'm saying if you want to take some of that back, I will let you. ...And that I think I want you to.
[ Which, in itself takes some of his breath away to admit, even if in the back of his head, he knows that if he decides he is wrong about that, he can stop him. ]
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But it is. It's not just because he's blind right now. It cuts deeper than that. He trusts Gold, he thinks. Not completely. Not like one of his team. But in small ways. In this moment. And there's no taking that back, is there? ]
Then prove it. Take your clothes off.
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[ It comes out unbidden, and then there is no taking it back. But Carver has already established that he wants him for reasons other than convenience, so there is that. And he can't actually see him.
It would be like doing this in the dark, for at least one of them.
He pulls in a calming sigh.
He can do that, whether immediately or gradually. I just need to do it myself, he thinks. Or at the very least, be asked. He thinks that would also be acceptable.
One of Gold's hands moves to his tie and the collar of his shirt. ]
...A.. [ He bites his lip. ] All at once?
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[ Carver drags his teeth against Gold's lip, then kisses him again. Hard, again. He wants to stay here. Not get lost in his own racing thoughts. ]
Strip tease is kinda lost on me, so you do whatever the fuck you want, Gold.
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That's a fleeting thought in the moment. This is also all he wants, he realizes -- to sink into this and think of nothing else. He's released long enough to open his eyes and see him, see himself.
And he wishes it was all darkness for him, too. One hand works at gently untethering his tie, buttons underneath. The other gently guides one of Carver's hands over to his shoulder, his collar. ]
...Then you'll just have to find other ways to watch, if that's something you want to do.
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I'm here, aren't I?
[ He doesn't grin and bear it for things like this. Not his style. Never has been, never will be. ]
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[ He finishes unbuttoning his vest and shrugs out of it. As he gets the first few buttons on his shirt undone, continues to unravel his tie, his hands also come back to Carver's to remind him where they are, what they are doing with soft brushes is passing. He doesn't limit where he wants to go, at least with the impression that he's patient, that he senses there are boundaries and isn't charging headlong past them. ]
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[ The sorts of tics and pressure points that one day Carver might attack for real. Press on until something gives because they'll be enemies before the end. That much is inevitable. And if you give an enemy an advantage, they'll tear you down to size for daring. He's seen it. Dixon did it to Shaw, and Carver let him. That failure haunts him in this place. At night, when he can't sleep, he sees Pope face down on the rooftop. More than that, he sees the empty look on Shaw's face. The betrayal she'd felt, and how Carver hadn't protected her.
But that's not right here. Carver takes that thought and he puts it into a box in his mind, somewhere far away. He puts his hands where Gold guides them, his fingers twitching against the fabric of Gold's fancy shirt.
It's smooth to the touch. Soft. He curls his hand around Gold's shoulder. Not a tight hold, but a meaningful one. ]
You been thinking about me? Hmm?
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