[ 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. ]
[ There's something underneath the words, in the way that Larus closes his eyes, but it's hard to focus. To pull it apart enough to remember where the corners are and what's hiding in them. Carver squeezes Larus's wrists again, holding fast to him, and returns the kiss. Lets it deepen, lets it happen, lets himself just drift into the physical. Everything feels good right now. So why not just let it? ]
Stay.
[ He rocks against Larus, wanting to feel him. Hold him, maybe. ]
[ It's getting harder and harder to distinguish the lines.
Maybe there had never been any to begin with, and they'd simply been fooling themselves into believing it. ]
I don't want to be anywhere else.
[ He whispers it against his mouth, soft and sincere. What few others he knows are likely busy, and Larus has always preferred to be on his own anyway. Having Carver there with him is the easiest part of all of this, easing down his body and licking at the places he knows are sensitive. The physical is quieter in some ways too, gently letting his teeth scrape over skin before he decides to be bold and lightly drag the edge of a fang across his chest. ]
[ Thing is, this doesn't feel reckless. It's just the two of them. They aren't doing this to make quota or because someone's drugged them stupid and forced them. It's a choice. It always was. Carver shivers, his breath hitching as Larus touches him. At that hint of an edge. And he shifts to cup a hand to the back of Larus's neck. Holding him steady. ]
[ It's that question, more than anything, that has him stilling, lips pressing gentle to the skin he's just reddened slightly. His hunger is always there, never muted but pushed to the background when he's in control of himself, and even with the memory of how sweet Carver's blood is, Larus doesn't know if he should. ]
Yes, but I'm not going to. [ He says it aloud like it gives him power to do so. ] You're already drunk.
[ If he bit him, how would that feel combined with the alcohol? Larus traces his fingers over the place his teeth had been, thinking about it. ]
[ Carver just watches him, eyes half-lidded. He's drifting again. Everything feels warm and easy, and he likes having Larus on him. Not pinning him down, not hurting him or even trying to hold him still, but just there. Steadying. ]
Mhmmkay.
[ He rubs the back of Larus's neck, drawing circles with his thumb. Just to touch him, to have that. ]
I'm real drunk, [ he adds cheerfully. It's great. He should do it more often. ]
You are, [ he agrees, surprised by how well he tolerates this particular knowledge. ] Is there anything else you want to tell me right now?
[ Larus is almost teasing, just the slightest curve to his mouth that indicates a smile, and because he can, because it's normal to do this, he leans down and rests their foreheads together. Breathes him in, soaks up the heat of his body – he's still too warm if he consciously thinks about it – and the comforting sound of his heart beating.
Then, he kisses him softly, a placeholder as he descends once more to lick and kiss and occasionally nip along Carver's skin. ]
[ Is this what they’re doing now, telling each other things because they’re too drunk to second guess it? Or at least Carver is, riding the currents to someplace quiet and calm. There’s nothing outside of the moment and how the two of them move inside it. Carver’s eyes are half-lidded and he likes how it feels to slow down, to have Larus’s kiss him and drag his mouth. The lighter sting of his teeth, never verging onto true pain. But it’s something real, something that keeps him from drifting entirely, and he runs his fingers through Larus’s hair again in lazy encouragement. Gentle, just like before. Even when his breath hitches, even when he shivers under Larus. ]
Your hair’s really soft, [ Carver tells him, reaching out to rub his thumb along the line of Larus’s cheek and them over to his mouth. Pressing against his lip. ] ‘s nice.
[ Maybe this is fine. If they touch each other and are gentle in silent ways, something that Larus still isn't quite used to because it's been years. Casimir comes to mind for a moment, but Larus turns his focus to Carver and the weight of his hand, lips parting to nip at the edge of his thumb. Then, he draws it into his mouth and licks at it, tracing a path down the swell of his palm and to his wrist. He presses his nose there, leaning into him. ]
Nice, [ he murmurs, though it has nothing to do with his hair and everything to do with this. Them. ] Brandon –
[ He only says it because he can, pushing up to kiss him hard and insistent as his fingers dip down over his belly and between his legs. When he grips his cock, it's careful but firm, stroking him slowly as he deepens the kiss. Why waste this moment? Why waste any of it? ]
[ There’s no one else who calls him by that name here, no one Carver would let call him that. He can’t recall exactly when that changed, or why, or what it’s made of him in the aftermath. They should have stayed strangers to each other if they remained anything at all, but this?
This echos. There’s no taking it back.
Carver groans into the kiss, shivering as Larus touches him. It feels like being alive. Like feeling the sun on his back. And he sits up a little so he can touch Larus more, kiss him back hard. One hand rubbing at Larus’s head and the other curving over his hip and then lower, wanting just to touch him. He’s getting hard and he likes how they fit together, how it still makes him shiver when Larus touches his scars but in a good way, a path he wants to chase down.
He knocks their heads together, trying to communicate that without words. To show it somehow. ]
Yeah, [ he agrees softly, and puts his mouth on the spot just below Larus jaw. He wants to leave a mark, he thinks. ]
[ The pull of that urgency drags him back to all of this, to the places Carver's hands linger and the way he responds to Larus' touch. A shiver rolls down his spine when he focuses on the press of his mouth too, his free hand lifting to rest against the back of Carver's head. Urge him close, offer permission for this one thing that he only trusts Carver to do. His fingers curl in strands of dark hair, holding him close.
Larus' hand stills between Carver's thighs, squeezing him steadily. ]
I – How do you want me?
[ He swallows purposely, refusing to think as he pushes even closer to Carver. If he asked, Larus wonders if Carver would put his arms around him and anchor him there in the moment. It's all he actually wants anyway, and if he can give Carver more, he believes that might just be enough. ]
[ There's trust in this, Carver realizes. There has been for a while. All these times they've held each other and caused no pain. And maybe it's only because he's drunk that the thought doesn't stagger him, that he accepts it easily because it feels easy. He thinks, maybe, that Larus is the only person in this place that Carver trusts not to hurt him. It shouldn't be like that.
But it is.
Carver drags his teeth a little, sighing against Larus's throat. And then he shifts, getting a hand on Larus's shoulder to flip them. Even drunk, he's graceful as he peers down at Larus. Just watching him. ]
Like this. Just wanna - like this.
[ Maybe they can just hold each other, for a little while. ]
[ His back sinks into the mattress as they roll, and both of Larus' hands settle on Carver's hips, fingers stroking over skin and up the length of his torso. And although they're naked, maybe it doesn't have to be about sex. Sometimes, before all of this, it hadn't been. He'd climb up into Casimir's apartment and crawl into bed with him, lay there and hold him until they both fell asleep. Larus blinks away the memory and meets Carver's eyes.
There's a hard flush under his skin, but Larus doesn't care.
He cups Carver's face, dragging him down. ]
Come here. [ Their noses touch, their foreheads. ] I want to feel you closer.
[ It's permission, maybe a promise of sorts, and Carver just presses into the touch for a moment, closing his eyes before he nods and shifts onto his side. Pulling Larus flush to him, one hand cupped to the back of his head and his arm wrapped around Larus's shoulders. Holding him, just holding him. Then, very carefully: ]
Yeah?
[ Neither of them do this much, he thinks. It's strange. It shouldn't be as easy as it is, and that has so little to do with the alcohol now. ]
[ It makes him feel... something. Strange, certainly, but there's more to it that Larus doesn't want to question, easing onto his side next to Carver as he sinks into the embrace. He has a hand against Carver's thigh, thumb lightly stroking across skin as he watches him. Whatever should be said empties out into a thin press of his lips, nodding silently.
He doesn't say anything for a while, continuing to look at him before he finally settles on a question that has nothing to do with sex at all. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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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Stay.
[ He rocks against Larus, wanting to feel him. Hold him, maybe. ]
Just - stay. For a little.
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Maybe there had never been any to begin with, and they'd simply been fooling themselves into believing it. ]
I don't want to be anywhere else.
[ He whispers it against his mouth, soft and sincere. What few others he knows are likely busy, and Larus has always preferred to be on his own anyway. Having Carver there with him is the easiest part of all of this, easing down his body and licking at the places he knows are sensitive. The physical is quieter in some ways too, gently letting his teeth scrape over skin before he decides to be bold and lightly drag the edge of a fang across his chest. ]
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You wanna bite me?
[ He asks it softly. ]
I'd let you.
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Yes, but I'm not going to. [ He says it aloud like it gives him power to do so. ] You're already drunk.
[ If he bit him, how would that feel combined with the alcohol? Larus traces his fingers over the place his teeth had been, thinking about it. ]
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Mhmmkay.
[ He rubs the back of Larus's neck, drawing circles with his thumb. Just to touch him, to have that. ]
I'm real drunk, [ he adds cheerfully. It's great. He should do it more often. ]
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[ Larus is almost teasing, just the slightest curve to his mouth that indicates a smile, and because he can, because it's normal to do this, he leans down and rests their foreheads together. Breathes him in, soaks up the heat of his body – he's still too warm if he consciously thinks about it – and the comforting sound of his heart beating.
Then, he kisses him softly, a placeholder as he descends once more to lick and kiss and occasionally nip along Carver's skin. ]
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Your hair’s really soft, [ Carver tells him, reaching out to rub his thumb along the line of Larus’s cheek and them over to his mouth. Pressing against his lip. ] ‘s nice.
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Nice, [ he murmurs, though it has nothing to do with his hair and everything to do with this. Them. ] Brandon –
[ He only says it because he can, pushing up to kiss him hard and insistent as his fingers dip down over his belly and between his legs. When he grips his cock, it's careful but firm, stroking him slowly as he deepens the kiss. Why waste this moment? Why waste any of it? ]
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This echos. There’s no taking it back.
Carver groans into the kiss, shivering as Larus touches him. It feels like being alive. Like feeling the sun on his back. And he sits up a little so he can touch Larus more, kiss him back hard. One hand rubbing at Larus’s head and the other curving over his hip and then lower, wanting just to touch him. He’s getting hard and he likes how they fit together, how it still makes him shiver when Larus touches his scars but in a good way, a path he wants to chase down.
He knocks their heads together, trying to communicate that without words. To show it somehow. ]
Yeah, [ he agrees softly, and puts his mouth on the spot just below Larus jaw. He wants to leave a mark, he thinks. ]
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Larus' hand stills between Carver's thighs, squeezing him steadily. ]
I – How do you want me?
[ He swallows purposely, refusing to think as he pushes even closer to Carver. If he asked, Larus wonders if Carver would put his arms around him and anchor him there in the moment. It's all he actually wants anyway, and if he can give Carver more, he believes that might just be enough. ]
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But it is.
Carver drags his teeth a little, sighing against Larus's throat. And then he shifts, getting a hand on Larus's shoulder to flip them. Even drunk, he's graceful as he peers down at Larus. Just watching him. ]
Like this. Just wanna - like this.
[ Maybe they can just hold each other, for a little while. ]
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There's a hard flush under his skin, but Larus doesn't care.
He cups Carver's face, dragging him down. ]
Come here. [ Their noses touch, their foreheads. ] I want to feel you closer.
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Yeah?
[ Neither of them do this much, he thinks. It's strange. It shouldn't be as easy as it is, and that has so little to do with the alcohol now. ]
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He doesn't say anything for a while, continuing to look at him before he finally settles on a question that has nothing to do with sex at all. ]
What do you want?
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