amicustenebris | Duplicity

[ He shakes his head to clear it. ]

The less thinking I do for the moment, the better.

[ His fingers ghost over the tops of the hands on him, trail up to Carver's shoulders. ]

[ Carver spreads his fingers wide, dragging them up Gold's sides and then back down again. He doesn't dig his nails in. It's not that sort of moment. ]

Okay.

[ He understands the sentiment just fine. And so he leans in to kiss Gold on the mouth again, even as he trails his hand down Gold's side again. Over his ribs and then his hip and then lower, to grope him. Because why the fuck not? ]

Mmh -- [ It doesn't startle him like he thought -- part of him worried that it would -- It presses him closer to him, and there is no hiding that his interest, in the moment, has more than begun to awaken. But it also gives him something of an accuse to hide in the other man, to seek warmth, to drown out each treacherous sound that bubbles up. ]

[ Yeah, okay. Being blind sucks and Carver thinks he'd rather kill a thousand men before he does it again, but this? This, he can work with. The way that Gold presses closer and reacts, yeah.

Yeah, he can work with this.

Carver thumps his forehead against Gold's, some rough camaraderie, and just keeps touching him. He's got strong hands, he knows what he's doing. Doesn't seem like Gold minds his calluses, either. ]

You can let go, you know. Just this once.

A more difficult prospect than most.

[ But then, Carver has bent to him more than once now, with no small amount of hesitation. At the very least, Gold cannot accuse him of not understanding on some level.

He doesn't move to dislodge or block his hands. Though very different from his own, it comes down to how touch-starved they both are, really. How overpowering and intoxicating it is to be feel someone else who wants to be there. Everything his fingers can find is part of something that feels...far and away from other people, even the self.

Neglected. Gold doesn't like that word. It doesn't feel right directed at himself, because he never fooled himself into thinking he was missing something he had a right to.

He doesn't part from him, the foreheads still in contact, something akin to a nuzzle as he savors him, the moment. His hands brush into his hair, drawing in a slow sigh. ]

How does one even begin?

You breathe.

[ Seems like a good first step. Not always an easy proposition. But here, it's something. Carver leans into the hand Gold runs through his hair, closing his eyes. It feels good, and Carver's beyond pretending this isn't happening, that Gold doesn't know him on some level now.

He draws back just long enough to spit in his hand - crude, but effective - and get back to it. Working him slow, to start. So he can hear all the ways Gold reacts. ]

So I hear, anyway.

[ Gold doesn't interrupt him, knowing the impulse that suddenly arrests him, tenses him up, and he knows even just to interject to say he has lube, he will sound like he's panicking. He might even be, just a little. There's a deep gasp, the barest remains of some sound in him on the end of it.

Of course he isn't as surprised as he could have been, this is nothing far away from what he did with Carver before -- just receiving, now. There's something like exhilaration, relief, a precipice crossed that he might have hesitated to go over himself. ]

Oh...

[ Hands caress, through Carver's hair, along his shoulder. He kisses his temple, shuddering. He can do this. He's here with him. ]

[ It’s a small gesture, the way that Gold kisses his temple. Carver takes a slow breath and resolves not to think about it. This is just happening. And all the while, Carver keeps working him. Never once letting up. ]

There you go.

[ Low, and satisfied. Now they’re getting somewhere. ]

How many times can I make you come, you think?

[ They should find out. ]

[ His face hides in Carver's shoulder, muffling a sound that would have escaped him a touch too boisterously. Grasping, channeling as much tension as he can away from there, and trying with all his might not to let his hips do more than twitch. ]

Oh, Gods...

[ Uttered with a kind of tired acceptance. Because he with full honesty has no idea, and is all but surrendered to the notion that they will know before long, and it's all he can do not to grind against him. ]

[ Gold's quiet through it, but they're close enough now that Carver can feel close to everything. He grins into Gold's neck, dragging his teeth a little. Not enough to hurt, but enough to feel. ]

Mhmm. I'll start a count.

[ He slows his hand for a moment, pressing his thumb against the head. ]

Yeah?

[ He can be felt, how his breath, his whole body shakes as he tries not to rock into Carver's hand, not to already reduce himself to begging. If he has a braincell to spare in the moment, it is likely forming an underhanded insult.

And yet he feels himself nodding, eyes closed, shutting himself up in the same darkness engulfing the other man. ]

Yes.

Good.

[ Low, and pleased. There's satisfaction in doing this. Carver hadn't anticipated that. He doesn't usually think about other people at all when he isn't running threat assessments on them. But he's thought of Gold more than once in the interim, and he's thinking of Gold now, and those little noises he's making. Barely audible, even now.

Carver hums, and smiles into Gold's neck. He works his hand - harder this time, more purposeful. ]

So let go.

I'm trying...

[ But he keeps himself still just the same, groaning as his resolve begins to crumble.

Gold notably did not treat any of this with any manner of disgust or over-concern when the tables were turned, which leaves him looking a little uncharacteristically repressed in the now. ]

[ They're getting there. Carver can hear it when Gold breathes, when he has to work to keep his voice steady, to stay still. And there's satisfaction in making him tremble, just a little. In the promise that maybe, if he works at it, Carver will be able to make him do it more.

Carver knocks their heads together almost roughly. ]

Lean back. And I'll go down on you.

[ He grins, just because he can. ]

Do whatever you want, but don't come in my hair.

[ Gold nods, beginning to carefully shift himself to settle back on the couch, but not quite so quick to disengage from the other man just yet, using a free hand to maintain some contact, to guide him to come along, keep him aware of where he is. ]

I...I remember. [ He still doesn't quite comprehend how Carver thinks he is thinking about aim in that moment, but he understands.

And he knows this is going to overwhelm him, but he's also experienced it before, so it worries him less. ]

[ It's a little odd doing this part blind, keeping a hand on Gold to orient himself, but Carver's got a can-do attitude and a pressing desire to stay out of his head as much as possible, so he makes it work. He's always worked better with a task, something in front of him. So what if it's sex this time? So fucking what?

He keeps his hand on Gold, working him even as Carver drags his mouth down his stomach. No teeth, this time. Just heat, and pressure. ]

Yeah, you do.

[ They've done this before. He has a feeling they might do it again, after. This time, Carver goes slower. Gives him time to get used to the feeling before he takes Gold fully into his mouth. ]

Uuhn...

[ His eyes flutter shut as Carver moves downward. He doesn't say much; he's not going out of his way to interject a lot the way Gold had -- who didn't tend to talk a LOT when he was driving but was very deliberate in his prompting.

Maybe it's that it's different, or it might just be Carver, but that's what makes it work. So when he's suddenly taken in, there's already a thrill that has hold of him; his initial gasp is soundless. One hand braces itself on the back of the couch, channeling some of his tension while the other smooths encouragingly back into Carver's hair.

He utters something, but whether it's in another language, his accent makes it too thick to parse, or it's utter nonsense? Lost to all that hear it. ]

[ Yeah. That's telling. That's working. Carver hums a little, knowing Gold will feel it just fine, and takes him in deeper. Almost until he can't breathe. ]

[ Another almost soundless gasp, treading that fine line between pleasure and just the threat of pain, aware there are teeth even if Carver is being careful. And there's more to it this time, how much more vulnerable it is, nothing hidden, even if nothing can really be seen.

His hips threaten to move again, but he stops himself, as perfect as this feels, that reads like a line to him, something not to be crossed. ]

...please. [ He's not even sure what he's begging for, why that bubbles past his lips just now. ]

[ Please, he says, and Carver hums - low and pleased, and he knows Gold will feel it like this. No escaping it. He draws back with a groan, knowing it's going to affect his voice sound. Make it hoarse, and low.

He doesn't care. He really, truly, does not give a fuck. ]

Please what?

[ He smoothes his hand over Gold's hip. Slower, in contrast to what he was doing a moment ago. But he keeps working Gold through it. No breaks, no moment to catch his breath. ]

[ The sound when Carver disengages in order to answer him -- to, what? Chide? Provoke? -- was nothing short of a whimper. ]

...Don't stop.

[ He's close. He knows he is. His fingers brush over the hand on his hip as he tries not to squirm too much. ]

[ Hmm. He's almost tempted to push, to make Gold beg. But that would swing things, wouldn't it? And Carver knows his moods are changeable at the best of time, mercury running through his thoughts like a curse. One drop away from hurtling the pendulum violently to one side, then the next.

Carver just hums. ]

Then work for it.

[ And he takes him back in. Deeper this time, until his eyes are watering. ]

[ Well, that was something of a difficult command to fully process. Did he want him up and working him or did he want him like this? Where there wasn't much to be done but try to hold on. Did he mean him to beg?

His moan crawls out from somewhere far beneath his chest as he squeezes his eyes shut again, feeling so fully engulfed and unable to really comprehend it beyond pleasure. He was moving, not thrusting, but allowing himself to move with him -- though the pull to do otherwise was becoming erratic.

And perhaps he did beg, but it was largely nonsense, gentle praise in little gasping breaths.

It wasn't as though he could ask Carver to tell him what he wanted him to do; then he would just stop again.

He did manage a warning ahead of the edge as he approached it, a sound, a touch. ]

[ It's quiet. Not silent - not anymore - but quiet, and Carver likes that. It's familiar. Not a comfort - sex is rarely that, if ever - but something familiar and understandable, and he likes the way that Gold touches him. How he trembles, just a little, when he comes.

Carver coughs. Doesn't quite swallow all of it and gets some on his face as he draws back, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

Goddamn.

He leans back, gaze unfocused. But calm, suddenly, in a way he wasn't earlier. ]

So. That's one.

[ For a moment, all Gold can really do is allow himself to collapse, try to breathe, try to remember how to think. All there is of him is the leftover sparks of electricity going off behind his eyelids, warmth, and then -- a shock almost like cold air that jolts him back to the present.

He opens his eyes just in time to catch a look at Carver's face. (Gold almost utters an apology. It's meek and hesitant in his throat. Then What he does. What he says, and the shiver that rides up into Gold's veins then.

It's practically a warning. ]

Gods...

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fortitudosalutis - 2022-04-10 02:02 (UTC) - Expand

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