[ 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 — and they collide often, don’t 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 doesn’t. These things happen. He only stops long enough to pull the door closes behind them and then they’re inside someone else’s home and smacking his hip right into the kitchen counter. Carver doesn’t even feel the impact, too focused on clapping his hands onto Larus’s face to kiss him back.
It’s 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 it’s easy to slip under Larus’s 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.
[ Carver drags his mouth along Larus's collarbone, wanting - he's not sure. It's hard to focus on anything beyond the immediate, what they're doing in this exact moment. The faint taste of salt when he gets his mouth on Larus, how he reacts to it. The sensation of Larus's legs pinning him in place, the sound his belt makes when it clicks open.
These things happen. They stack. ]
You - you feel good.
[ Carver shifts to kiss him, pressing their foreheads together. Just to have that, just for a second. ]
[ There's something satisfying about all of the little noises that accompany this moment, reaching to tug at the zipper of Carver's pants before pushing his hand inside to grip his cock. It's reckless, really. They should go somewhere else that isn't the kitchen and fool around there, allow themselves some space to get away if they need to. But there's a drive to just linger, to kiss him until neither of them can breathe, and he tries to do that as he strokes him.
The angle's a little awkward, but he doesn't care. ]
I like your mouth. [ He isn't sure why he says that. Just that he does and means it. ] And when you touch me –
[ Both of them are usually more on the quiet side, so maybe it's whatever they'd had from that bar that's making them more vocal. Larus can't think too much to really care about it, humming as he takes another kiss. ]
[ You can have my mouth, he almost says, except that Larus is kissing him and there's no room for it then, not when Carver's groaning into it. The angle isn't the best but Larus has a good grip on him, strong hands, familiar, and it's easy just to shiver and accept it. Take it as something good.
He knocks their foreheads together. All rough affection. ]
[ There's a soft little breath into the kiss, and Larus soaks up the way Carver pushes into him, solid and there and just enough. With some reluctance, he pulls his hand free and relaxes his grip on him, nudging him back so he can slip off the counter and stand against him. ]
Let's find one.
[ And it should be strange how he takes Carver by the hand again and navigates them through this stranger's house, but it isn't. It feels like something they would do, and just because he can, Larus stops in the middle of the hallway to draw Carver into another kiss. Less urgent but deep and full of some unnamed feeling. ]
[ They keep on shifting, the moment blurring around them, and Carver doesn't question it. There's no one else to brush up against him and tense him up, so he just goes where Larus leads. Stops where Larus does, and puts his hands on Larus's face to kiss him close. To press him into the wall for a moment, run his fingers through Larus's hair. Drunk as he is, Carver thinks he'll remember this.
He presses their foreheads together for a moment, centering himself. Laughing under his breath, because how? How is it like this? How can he stand to let anyone this close?
He doesn't think he could do this with anyone but Larus. That whatever this is can't be replicated. And he almost says so but the words slip away, and Carver just tugs Larus forward. These's a bed, somewhere. ]
[ It feels like something that might have happened when they'd been younger. Fumbling through a dark house, laughing and drunk enough not to care as long as they continued to touch. Larus remembers all of those little nuances as they fall into someone's bedroom, as he tries to undress Carver and then himself without tearing anything in the process. Somehow, difficult as it is without letting go of each other, they manage it.
Then, Larus pushes Carver down onto the mattress and crawls over him. ]
You feel good too, [ he says, an afterthought breathed right against his mouth before kissing him. ] Like this.
[ Naked against him, underneath him. It really doesn't matter, uncertain how they'd gotten themselves to this point but not questioning it anymore. He can't, not when he's allowing himself to want things, and what he wants, right now, is Carver. ]
[ Their clothes hit the floor and Carver doesn’t even think about lining his boots up or doing a damn thing except existing in this moment, as Larus pushes him back and Carver lets him. How they tangle together, how it feels nothing but good. Carver reaches a hand up to run his fingers through Larus’s hair, oddly charmed by the texture of it, and then another to his hip. Rocking up against him. They’re naked and Carver’s drunk enough this feels easy, and so it’s easy to kiss him back. To hold him close and groan into it, suck on his tongue and just exist here, with this man. ]
[ He seeks his warmth out despite how hot he continues to feel, sinking down against him as they kiss. This part is slow, huffing quietly into it when Carver draws on his tongue and deepens the way they press together. Right now, it's not even about anything else except this, letting his own hand cup the side of Carver's face so he can stroke his thumb along his cheek. He knows every part of him, and still, somehow, it's not enough. He wants more.
Larus doesn't even notice the way his other hand settles over Carver's heart. ]
I'm here. I'm with you.
[ Which isn't necessary to say, but this moment, just like the one before it, is different. It's changing every time, and Larus can't keep up with it, settled enough that he opens his eyes to look at him. Follows the path of his fingers along Carver's jaw and the way the tips brush at the curve of his mouth. Gentle. ]
[ Somehow, it’s always the gentleness that surprises him. How it feels to be careful with another person, and be careful with them in turn. It’s unnatural, a threat waiting to be realized, yet it feels good. It’s more than a momentary distraction, more than making quota or passing the time as they survive the city’s bullshit. This is —
He doesn’t know. The thought slips away. But Carver grins up at Larus, pressing into the touch. Wanting that more than he wants to get off, even. They fit together. They’ve done this enough that it shouldn’t be a surprise anymore. ]
I know.
[ It isn’t simple. But it feels that way right now, when he’s drunk and relaxed, the tension bled out, and that’s enough. He tugs Larus closer, pressing their foreheads together, and just exhales. ]
[ Does he say anything to that? Should he have to?
It's a mixed up feeling, closing his eyes as they just rest together for the sake of doing it. Nothing about this moment screams urgency or even sex, odd if he tries to think about it because... isn't that the point of all this? He can meet quota and not think about it the rest of the time, until he has to again, but with Carver, it's backwards. He wants to be with him and not just because this city dictates they have to, and Larus has no idea what to do with that knowledge even as he presses their lips together. Slow, sweet. ]
You confuse me.
[ Maybe it hadn't been that obvious, but he needs to tell him anyhow, straddling Carver and resting his hands lightly on his chest now. The desperation of their time in that alley seems to be fading, his expression conflicted even as he drags his fingers along Carver's collarbone. Just idle, careful touches. ]
[ He likes having Larus on top of him, how it feels grounding instead of like a trap — something to be survived, and overcome. This is a choice and even if Carver doesn’t understand all of it, he knows that much. He knows how it feels to have Larus touching him, bracing his hands against Carver’s chest.
Silently, Carver reaches to run his fingers over Larus ribs, his arms, and then down to circle loosely around his wrists. ]
Me neither, [ Carver admits softly. His eyes never leave Larus’s, not once. ] But you feel good.
[ They're holding each other now, arousal banked momentarily as his eyes drop to the curl of Carver's fingers around his wrists. Then, slowly, he lifts his gaze to look at him. There's intensity in that, like he's searching for something in the depths of those dark eyes, and Larus' expression thins, lips parting as he considers what to say for the longest moment before he settles on: ]
You do too. [ And then, almost carefully, ] I don't want to stop seeing you.
[ They haven't put a name to any of it or a real reason, which is fine. Larus would prefer to keep labels out of it. Yet, that's not the same as working through whatever intentions they might have with each other, and he thinks he might have already come to that conclusion when Carver had saved his life not that long ago. ]
[ They're seeing each other now, aren't they? They're looking at each other, taking measure, and Carver's drunk enough that this feels easy. All the edges sanded off. He squeezes Larus's wrists. It's gentle.
That feels important. ]
So come see me.
[ Carver peers up at him. Still drunk, and utterly sincere. ]
[ It is important, but despite noting the sincerity in those words and the way Carver looks at him, Larus doesn't know how to interpret it. He can't really be sure what he was asking anyhow, pushing it aside and trying to focus before his thoughts circle right back to it.
He leans forward, eyes on Carver. ]
Wouldn't that be a problem if I showed up where you're staying?
[ His voice is light, careful. It's not something he should be asking, and yet. ]
[ Carver blinks, peering up at Larus. It takes him a moment to process the question, to remember the answer. Because there's a reason they can't do that. There are rules.
So, he closes his eyes for a moment and nods, purposely breathes as he lifts a hand to brush at some of Carver's hair. ]
I know.
[ It's easier that way. He isn't attached, doesn't have a reason to keep them from seeing each other. They still haven't found a place for things like this, but Larus tunes his thoughts out, dipping down to kiss him so he can block it all out and focus on what's right in front of him. ]
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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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It’s 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 it’s easy to slip under Larus’s 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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These things happen. They stack. ]
You - you feel good.
[ Carver shifts to kiss him, pressing their foreheads together. Just to have that, just for a second. ]
You feel really good...
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The angle's a little awkward, but he doesn't care. ]
I like your mouth. [ He isn't sure why he says that. Just that he does and means it. ] And when you touch me –
[ Both of them are usually more on the quiet side, so maybe it's whatever they'd had from that bar that's making them more vocal. Larus can't think too much to really care about it, humming as he takes another kiss. ]
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He knocks their foreheads together. All rough affection. ]
Want you in a bed.
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Let's find one.
[ And it should be strange how he takes Carver by the hand again and navigates them through this stranger's house, but it isn't. It feels like something they would do, and just because he can, Larus stops in the middle of the hallway to draw Carver into another kiss. Less urgent but deep and full of some unnamed feeling. ]
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He presses their foreheads together for a moment, centering himself. Laughing under his breath, because how? How is it like this? How can he stand to let anyone this close?
He doesn't think he could do this with anyone but Larus. That whatever this is can't be replicated. And he almost says so but the words slip away, and Carver just tugs Larus forward. These's a bed, somewhere. ]
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Then, Larus pushes Carver down onto the mattress and crawls over him. ]
You feel good too, [ he says, an afterthought breathed right against his mouth before kissing him. ] Like this.
[ Naked against him, underneath him. It really doesn't matter, uncertain how they'd gotten themselves to this point but not questioning it anymore. He can't, not when he's allowing himself to want things, and what he wants, right now, is Carver. ]
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Fuck, Larus…
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Larus doesn't even notice the way his other hand settles over Carver's heart. ]
I'm here. I'm with you.
[ Which isn't necessary to say, but this moment, just like the one before it, is different. It's changing every time, and Larus can't keep up with it, settled enough that he opens his eyes to look at him. Follows the path of his fingers along Carver's jaw and the way the tips brush at the curve of his mouth. Gentle. ]
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He doesn’t know. The thought slips away. But Carver grins up at Larus, pressing into the touch. Wanting that more than he wants to get off, even. They fit together. They’ve done this enough that it shouldn’t be a surprise anymore. ]
I know.
[ It isn’t simple. But it feels that way right now, when he’s drunk and relaxed, the tension bled out, and that’s enough. He tugs Larus closer, pressing their foreheads together, and just exhales. ]
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It's a mixed up feeling, closing his eyes as they just rest together for the sake of doing it. Nothing about this moment screams urgency or even sex, odd if he tries to think about it because... isn't that the point of all this? He can meet quota and not think about it the rest of the time, until he has to again, but with Carver, it's backwards. He wants to be with him and not just because this city dictates they have to, and Larus has no idea what to do with that knowledge even as he presses their lips together. Slow, sweet. ]
You confuse me.
[ Maybe it hadn't been that obvious, but he needs to tell him anyhow, straddling Carver and resting his hands lightly on his chest now. The desperation of their time in that alley seems to be fading, his expression conflicted even as he drags his fingers along Carver's collarbone. Just idle, careful touches. ]
I don't know what to do with it sometimes.
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Silently, Carver reaches to run his fingers over Larus ribs, his arms, and then down to circle loosely around his wrists. ]
Me neither, [ Carver admits softly. His eyes never leave Larus’s, not once. ] But you feel good.
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You do too. [ And then, almost carefully, ] I don't want to stop seeing you.
[ They haven't put a name to any of it or a real reason, which is fine. Larus would prefer to keep labels out of it. Yet, that's not the same as working through whatever intentions they might have with each other, and he thinks he might have already come to that conclusion when Carver had saved his life not that long ago. ]
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That feels important. ]
So come see me.
[ Carver peers up at him. Still drunk, and utterly sincere. ]
Yeah?
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He leans forward, eyes on Carver. ]
Wouldn't that be a problem if I showed up where you're staying?
[ His voice is light, careful. It's not something he should be asking, and yet. ]
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There are always rules. ]
Mhph. I can come to you.
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So, he closes his eyes for a moment and nods, purposely breathes as he lifts a hand to brush at some of Carver's hair. ]
I know.
[ It's easier that way. He isn't attached, doesn't have a reason to keep them from seeing each other. They still haven't found a place for things like this, but Larus tunes his thoughts out, dipping down to kiss him so he can block it all out and focus on what's right in front of him. ]
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