[ Larus already has doubts, staring at the glass the bartender simply sets in front of him without a word. There are several more like it, not quite as green as whatever Carver's drinking. He's too warm anyway, lifting it up to try to smell the contents of whatever it is.
Nothing. It's just – there.
He swallows it in one mouthful and immediately grimaces, unsure if he's going to spit it right back up or if he wants more. ]
How many of these have you had? [ Larus doesn't think he should, and he probably won't, but he reaches for another out of reflex. ]
[ Carver just grins at the look on Larus's face, shifting to lean against him. Sometimes he wants the closeness and sometimes he wants to bolt from this place and all its goddamn noise. The moments changeable like that. ]
[ He stares at him, not really interested in drinking or the people who crowd up against the bar with them. Hand still on his next shot, Larus tips closer to him, words right against his ear so he doesn't have to shout it. ]
I think you taste better.
[ Not that he's implying anything. Or maybe he is. His inhibitions are still mostly intact, taking his time to lick along Carver's jaw. There's sweat and just the natural flavor of him under it, following it along until he can nip at his mouth. ]
[ Normally, Carver isn't the type to just make out with people in a crowd. Not his scene, not with all the noise and people pressed close. Threats in proximity, all of them. Yet here he just grins and puts his arm around Larus's waist, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his mouth.
[ He doesn't know what to do with that comment, so all Larus does is look at him. This isn't normal. He knows that with certainty, gaze shifting to the opposite side of Carver as someone makes a move to reach out and touch him but then thinks better of it in lieu of all the free alcohol spread across the bar.
A moment passes, and Larus cups both sides of Carver's face in his hands. ]
You're drunk. [ Like he wouldn't know that. But it's punctuated with an even deeper kiss the second he leans forward. ]
[ Oh, that feels nice. Carver hums and just presses into it, curling his hand around Larusβs hip. And when Larus pulls back, when Carver has a chance to breathe, he just presses their foreheads together. Itβs intimate, even in a place like this. ]
Iβm drunk, [ he agrees happily. ] βs against the rules.
[ It's strange how it doesn't matter that they're crowded together in a room full of too much noise and too many people. Larus' focus is singular, holding onto him and leaning even closer. That warmth from before just seems to magnify as he feels his breath against his mouth. ]
There aren't any rules here. [ Though he doubts that's what Carver means. ] It's just you and me.
[ Distantly, Carver knows that isn't quite right - that there are always rules. That these things have a tendency to spiral out if you aren't careful. If you lose control, even for a moment, then you're finished. But aren't they both already dead?
Carver closes his eyes. Someone brushes against him again, a hand trailing over his back, and he flinches. Reaching for his knife again before he remembers and takes a shuddering breath.
[ It's an easy agreement to make, feeling the way he tenses up again, and keeping their foreheads pressed together, Larus drops his hands to go for Carver's wrists. He drags them up, leaning into the contact as he purposely places Carver's hands on his body.
He doesn't really care about drinking anymore. ]
Keep your focus on me. I'm right here. [ And if anyone gets too close, Larus will deal with them. ]
[ Larus takes his hands and Carver lets him. Keeps his eyes closed and lets Larus guide his hands, holding onto him. That's solid and real, easier to focus on.
It helps. Carver takes a breath, then lets it go. ]
[ He has no real idea where they'd go, not in this city, but Larus nods, nudging his nose against Carver's before pulling away. This time, when he takes his hand, there's more purpose in it. They can ignore all of these people and how they grind together, sex and sweat and alcohol filling the air and dulling his senses. It's heady, gripping tight to Carver as he threads them through the sea of bodies towards the outside.
When the air hits, Larus purposely draws it in. Just once, an exhale, and he turns to Carver, looping an arm around his neck to kiss him without an active audience trying to interrupt them. ]
[ There's something dreamlike about the moment. It snaps in and out of focus, swinging vicious and cloudy in turn. But Larus's hand is in his, guiding him, and Carver ties to focus on that. To keep it simple.
It's easier when they're outside, when the cool air hits his face and Larus loops an arm around his neck. Kisses him. Carver pushes him back into the nearest wall and returns it, knocking their foreheads together.
It's hard to focus. But this is real, he's fairly certain. ]
[ It's not rough, but it feels good all the same, sensitive to the feel of Carver pinning him against the wall. Larus keeps his arm around him, tightening it as he arches into the contact, and he seeks out his mouth, biting at his lower lip and sucking at his tongue.
He can't say he hasn't wanted this since the last time, a moment that seems so far away and blurred by pain, by blood. It's not enough to just feel him either, his free hand wresling under all of Carver's layers to press a palm flat against his back. Warm, familiar skin that he wants to feel against his. ]
Here? [ he asks against his mouth, not sure this is exactly what Carver had meant when he'd asked him to leave. ]
[ Carver arches his back at the touch, kissing Larus hard. it's hard to focus but he's here, now, and this is in front of him. They've done it enough that they've gotten good at it, he thinks. They know how to fit together, what it means to move through the same space. He's felt Larus come undone in his hands and Larus has done the same to him. You don't dodge these things. You don't shake them. They sink in deep, like a scar.
He nudges his head against Larus's, sighing. Trying to focus when the world keeps drifting. ]
[ There are still things he wants to know, things he believes he should have figured out by now, but they don't see each other purposely with any sort of regularity. Larus might have considered wandering around until he ran into Carver, which is sort of how he'd found him in the club. But it's not enough, not when Carver's so much warmer than whatever's in his system and he likes the feel of his mouth on his skin.
Larus nuzzles into him, pushing his fingers up into dark hair. ]
Do you want to do this here? [ Out in the open where people could easily find them. ]
[ People donβt touch him like this anyone. Carver doesnβt let them. Heβs hit quota every month since heβs gotten here and thatβs just what it is. Sometimes itβs fun, sure, but it doesnβt mean anything. And sometimes he tells people to grab his hair and have at it and that just happens.
This is different. More intimate, somehow. Carver sighs, pressing into it even as he runs his hands up Larusβs side. Trailing against bare skin, skipping over his ribs and that strange lack of scars. Do you want to do this here?
Itβs hard to focus. The first time they fucked was in an alley like this, he thinks vaguely. They goaded each other into it, until it got vicious. And that was just that.
Carver twitches, resting his head against Larusβs for a moment. Catching his breath. ]
No.
[ Reluctantly, almost. But thereβs a part of him thatβs almost coherent enough to remember why they shouldnβt. People might remember two subs going at it, even in this place where supposedly no one cares. ]
[ He's aware of the similarities, how it had been completely different not so long ago, and if he just turned Carver around and pushed his face into the wall —
Larus swallows and nods once, leaning into him so he can try to collect his thoughts before moving them along. He wouldn't have wanted anyone to see Carver like this anyway—not drunk, not naked. Perhaps it's a little possessive, and there's no one to blame except himself for that, exhaling once and then pulling his hands free so he can lead them even deeper into the alley that runs alongside these buildings. His hearing rings a bit, probably from whatever he'd drank, but it's clear enough he can pinpoint a locked door that doesn't have anyone behind it. No heartbeats, no visible lights anywhere.
And following the same pattern as in Duplicity, Larus breaks into someone's house so they can have privacy. He staggers inside, dragging Carver with him, and Larus really only notes that they're in a kitchen of some sort before he's pushing close to kiss him again, stumbling them both into one of the counters. ]
[ They have patterns now, him and Larus, predictable lines of behavior whenever they collide with each other β and they collide often, donβt they? He thinks about that absently ad they move, as Larus opens yet another door and Carver follows him without the slightest hesitation. That ought to bother him, how easily he trusts this man, but it doesnβt. These things happen. He only stops long enough to pull the door closes behind them and then theyβre inside someone elseβs home and smacking his hip right into the kitchen counter. Carver doesnβt even feel the impact, too focused on clapping his hands onto Larusβs face to kiss him back.
Itβs easier to focus on sensation. On the physical. Why bother thinking? Carver just presses against Larus, wanting to touch him everywhere. Put his hands on bare skin. And so itβs easy to slip under Larusβs shirt, drag his hands, touch him. The moment keeps swinging but everything feels easy right now. ]
[ It's a chaotic rush of their bodies coming together, as if they're both starving to touch and be touched, and Larus frees an arm from his jacket before he's bracing a palm on the counter and pushing up to sit on it. There's leverage now, dragging Carver in between his thighs as he nips and sucks at his mouth. Larus can still taste all the alcohol, but the heat of Carver's tongue is too good to ignore, using his legs to trap him there against him as they kiss. ]
You're wearing too much, [ he breathes, murmuring it right against his lips as his hands tug at the clothes Carver has on. There's not enough skin, and he likes when Carver is just there with him completely. A second passes, trying to slow the momentum. ] All I've been thinking about is you.
[ And what's between them, what's already happened and how intertwined they are with one another despite the circumstances. ]
[ He likes how he fits between Larus's legs. How it feels to put his hands on Larus's hips and squeeze before coaxing his shirt up over his head and then pressing his mouth to Larus's chest. Dragging his teeth and then his hands for a moment, just to feel, before leaning back reluctantly to begin shrugging out of his own clothes. He drops his coat, lets it fall without a second thought. ]
[ It's strange how chilled he feels the moment his shirt comes off, shivering under the slide of Carver's mouth, and Larus lets his eyes fall shut as he sinks into the sensation of it all. Carver close, his hands in places he wants them to be and others he thinks about. Only when he steps back does Larus follow him with his eyes, some part of him aware that they shouldn't do this here but not caring enough to move.
And something in those words causes his chest to seize. ]
What did you miss about me? [ He asks it quietly, watching as he removes his clothes. ]
[ It's easy to lose himself in the physical, the sensation of it. Even as he loses his clothes, Carver presses closer and runs his hands up Larus's sides, over his back, the curve of his hips. Carver puts his mouth there, dragging his teeth, and then higher. Against his collarbone, the line of his throat. Never quite biting down. It isn't the point to hurt, not here.
Carver's eyes flick to him. Calm, and loose. ]
How you felt at my back.
[ He slept better than he has in years the last time they were together. He didn't have a single nightmare. ]
[ Focusing on anything beyond Carver being right there feels pointless enough that Larus doesn't even try, exhaling sharply under the pressure of those teeth. He's even relaxed enough to hum in a way that says he likes it, fingers flexing around a fistful of Carver's hair before letting go. ]
You felt good against me. [ Tipping forward, their noses brush. ] You always do.
[ It doesn't matter how Carver interprets that. It doesn't make it any less true, even when they end up hurting each other sometimes. ]
[ Carver nuzzles against him, loose and languid like a cat. His moods tend to swing even here, even like this, but Larus just feels good and it's easy to focus on that. To run his fingers over Larus's skin, the curve of his hips. ]
[ They're hardly undressed, and Larus just wants more of this, of Carver's hands and mouth on him and his voice in his ear. He shifts to the edge of the counter, legs still around him. Any closer and Carver would have to lift him, but it just doesn't feel close enough to him. ]
Doesn't matter. [ Slipping his hands between them, he tugs roughly at Carver's belt. ] I just want you.
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Nothing. It's just – there.
He swallows it in one mouthful and immediately grimaces, unsure if he's going to spit it right back up or if he wants more. ]
How many of these have you had? [ Larus doesn't think he should, and he probably won't, but he reaches for another out of reflex. ]
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[ Carver just grins at the look on Larus's face, shifting to lean against him. Sometimes he wants the closeness and sometimes he wants to bolt from this place and all its goddamn noise. The moments changeable like that. ]
Lots.
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I think you taste better.
[ Not that he's implying anything. Or maybe he is. His inhibitions are still mostly intact, taking his time to lick along Carver's jaw. There's sweat and just the natural flavor of him under it, following it along until he can nip at his mouth. ]
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He's drunk. The moment keeps swinging on him. ]
That's cute, [ he announces cheerfully. ]
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A moment passes, and Larus cups both sides of Carver's face in his hands. ]
You're drunk. [ Like he wouldn't know that. But it's punctuated with an even deeper kiss the second he leans forward. ]
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Iβm drunk, [ he agrees happily. ] βs against the rules.
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There aren't any rules here. [ Though he doubts that's what Carver means. ] It's just you and me.
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[ Distantly, Carver knows that isn't quite right - that there are always rules. That these things have a tendency to spiral out if you aren't careful. If you lose control, even for a moment, then you're finished. But aren't they both already dead?
Carver closes his eyes. Someone brushes against him again, a hand trailing over his back, and he flinches. Reaching for his knife again before he remembers and takes a shuddering breath.
Drunk. Yeah. ]
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[ It's an easy agreement to make, feeling the way he tenses up again, and keeping their foreheads pressed together, Larus drops his hands to go for Carver's wrists. He drags them up, leaning into the contact as he purposely places Carver's hands on his body.
He doesn't really care about drinking anymore. ]
Keep your focus on me. I'm right here. [ And if anyone gets too close, Larus will deal with them. ]
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It helps. Carver takes a breath, then lets it go. ]
Wanna get out of here?
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When the air hits, Larus purposely draws it in. Just once, an exhale, and he turns to Carver, looping an arm around his neck to kiss him without an active audience trying to interrupt them. ]
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It's easier when they're outside, when the cool air hits his face and Larus loops an arm around his neck. Kisses him. Carver pushes him back into the nearest wall and returns it, knocking their foreheads together.
It's hard to focus. But this is real, he's fairly certain. ]
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He can't say he hasn't wanted this since the last time, a moment that seems so far away and blurred by pain, by blood. It's not enough to just feel him either, his free hand wresling under all of Carver's layers to press a palm flat against his back. Warm, familiar skin that he wants to feel against his. ]
Here? [ he asks against his mouth, not sure this is exactly what Carver had meant when he'd asked him to leave. ]
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He nudges his head against Larus's, sighing. Trying to focus when the world keeps drifting. ]
What?
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Larus nuzzles into him, pushing his fingers up into dark hair. ]
Do you want to do this here? [ Out in the open where people could easily find them. ]
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This is different. More intimate, somehow. Carver sighs, pressing into it even as he runs his hands up Larusβs side. Trailing against bare skin, skipping over his ribs and that strange lack of scars. Do you want to do this here?
Itβs hard to focus. The first time they fucked was in an alley like this, he thinks vaguely. They goaded each other into it, until it got vicious. And that was just that.
Carver twitches, resting his head against Larusβs for a moment. Catching his breath. ]
No.
[ Reluctantly, almost. But thereβs a part of him thatβs almost coherent enough to remember why they shouldnβt. People might remember two subs going at it, even in this place where supposedly no one cares. ]
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Larus swallows and nods once, leaning into him so he can try to collect his thoughts before moving them along. He wouldn't have wanted anyone to see Carver like this anyway—not drunk, not naked. Perhaps it's a little possessive, and there's no one to blame except himself for that, exhaling once and then pulling his hands free so he can lead them even deeper into the alley that runs alongside these buildings. His hearing rings a bit, probably from whatever he'd drank, but it's clear enough he can pinpoint a locked door that doesn't have anyone behind it. No heartbeats, no visible lights anywhere.
And following the same pattern as in Duplicity, Larus breaks into someone's house so they can have privacy. He staggers inside, dragging Carver with him, and Larus really only notes that they're in a kitchen of some sort before he's pushing close to kiss him again, stumbling them both into one of the counters. ]
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Itβs easier to focus on sensation. On the physical. Why bother thinking? Carver just presses against Larus, wanting to touch him everywhere. Put his hands on bare skin. And so itβs easy to slip under Larusβs shirt, drag his hands, touch him. The moment keeps swinging but everything feels easy right now. ]
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You're wearing too much, [ he breathes, murmuring it right against his lips as his hands tug at the clothes Carver has on. There's not enough skin, and he likes when Carver is just there with him completely. A second passes, trying to slow the momentum. ] All I've been thinking about is you.
[ And what's between them, what's already happened and how intertwined they are with one another despite the circumstances. ]
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[ He likes how he fits between Larus's legs. How it feels to put his hands on Larus's hips and squeeze before coaxing his shirt up over his head and then pressing his mouth to Larus's chest. Dragging his teeth and then his hands for a moment, just to feel, before leaning back reluctantly to begin shrugging out of his own clothes. He drops his coat, lets it fall without a second thought. ]
Missed you. You know?
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And something in those words causes his chest to seize. ]
What did you miss about me? [ He asks it quietly, watching as he removes his clothes. ]
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Carver's eyes flick to him. Calm, and loose. ]
How you felt at my back.
[ He slept better than he has in years the last time they were together. He didn't have a single nightmare. ]
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You felt good against me. [ Tipping forward, their noses brush. ] You always do.
[ It doesn't matter how Carver interprets that. It doesn't make it any less true, even when they end up hurting each other sometimes. ]
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Tell me how you want it.
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Doesn't matter. [ Slipping his hands between them, he tugs roughly at Carver's belt. ] I just want you.
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