goddamngrenades | LEGION INBOX

A slick curl and press and there, right when he clocks onto what Locus must be looking for but before he can angle his hips to help him along the way- he finds it. The thing that makes his body clench and spine bow upward, a sharp sound twisting out of him.

Nnh- [ Good and it could be more. So much more- with the promise of what's to come heady in his mind Taylor rocks his hips down against Locus' fingertips in slow, shallow thrusts, eyes blown dark and crackling with heat. ] There, right there-

Here?

[ And he presses again. Another shot straight to the heart of what he wants, to that center that has him jerking and crying out, flexing around his fingers. He can even feel him start to thrust back onto his fingers on his own.

Greedy. He's tempted for a moment to chastise him, but no. He wants to see how York unfolds, how he breaks. ]

Yea-aaah- [ One word that drags out into a sharp moan, his head rolling back against the pillow to better brace his shoulders against the mattress and give him that much more leverage in grinding his hips down against Locus' hand. It's good-

Sharp and lighting him up like a bolt of lightening, and Locus just. Watching as he shudders under him, body locking down around his fingers. ]

[ Of course he watches. He's taking in every detail, the way his body seizes and rocks and the things he leans into. The things that become too much. Every detail should be put to memory for future use, because he plans on this being one of many mornings to come.

This time, his fingers tap upwards twice in rapid succession. Short, shallow movements, but still more than enough to brush against that spot that's giving York so much to contend with at the moment. A free hand reaches almost casually to brush his hair back over his shoulder. ]

Very well.

[ It's fun and easy to grind back and down for a short while, every press making his dick twitch hard against his belly, his thighs tremble along either side of Locus' hips- but soon it hits just the barest edge of too good. Too sharp, too likely to pitch him over the edge and he's not ready for that.

Not yet.

Whining he twitches away from those sharp taps, trying to keep them shallow and sweet instead of deep and precise and searing- not easy with how damn unerring Locus' aim is. ]

[ Another discrepancy. Locus' brow lowers, digging in as he eases back, lets York return to those slower, shallower thrusts, because it doesn't seem as though he wants to stop. More, he wanted more, but not that. ]

Talk to me.

[ Let him learn. All of him is simply focused on making this good, making this right, and he leans closer as the words rumble out of him. ]

Don'twannacomeyet- [ It's a breathless rush, hips still trying to hitch away from those too firm strikes- easier now that Locus has gotten on that particular train of thought alongside him. Makes it easier to breathe and steady himself, to focus on curling his hands along the nape of his neck and tugging him in for a slow, slick kiss. When he can breathe, when he can think? He pulls away, nudging his nose along Locus'. ]

Not yet. I want this to last, you know? I don't wanna come till you do.

[ It's a surprising show of consideration, and that surprise flickers briefly in his eyes. Not surprising because he doesn't think York capable of it, but... ]

Very well.

[ And he eases those fingers free, smearing the rest along his cock as he settles between his thighs, and leaning close for another kiss. And another. Slow, heated, devouring things that they are.

He too wants this to last. It's never been like this before, and he's quite enjoying where it's going. ]

[ His fingers curl in Locus' hair, nails dragging along his scalp as he leans into the kiss. Slow and intense and damn near overwhelming- breathless as he is it takes little to make him dizzy. Shuddering for breath as he pants against Locus' lips, one leg hooking around his waist to pull him in. Now, he's ready now. ]

Please. [ He noses along Locus' jaw, breath hot, wet. ] I wanna feel you-

[ You were, he thinks but doesn't say. Not the time for teasing now. They've been teasing at this for far too long, intentionally or not.

He knows what it's like, that initial push. How it feels when someone opens up, squeezes down around you, the physical sensations are all there as he'd expect them to be. But that's where the similarities end. There's some breathless catch in his throat when he leans in, when he catches against Taylor and pushes in with a low groan catching against the back of his teeth.

Watching him, seeing that unabashed want, vulnerable and open and reaching, makes all the difference in the world. There's a heat, a need, that only seems to burn brighter as Locus eases into him, slow and smooth, ever watchful even as the feeling threatens to swallow him whole. ]

[ It's never all that easy to yield. Much as he likes it, much as he wants it? The first few moments of the stretch vary from uncomfortable to overwhelming depending upon the variables at hand. Locus has been careful, has prepped him as best as either of them can stand but this is still-

Overwhelming. He relaxes. He tries to relax, legs hooked around Locus' waist, forehead pressed tight to his throat as he breathes. It doesn't hurt. Doesn't burn, doesn't sting- it's just so. So much. All that warm, velvety weight, all that pressure grinding in, sliding in and so much more than a few fingers- his head lolls back as his breath's punched out of him in a drawn out moan- eyes hazy with pleasure.

Perfect. It's- it's perfect. This is perfect. ]

[ Everything and nothing like he's imagined it would be.

Taylor takes it so beautifully, and there's no urge to rush this, to mark or claim or drag whatever feeling could be stripped from this. In fact, by the time Locus had bottomed out, he just stops. Rests there, feeling him there, his own heart hammering in his throat and in his ears.

It's never just been about this, but it feels like such a long time in coming, that this is almost a relief. A point where the waves break and roll back, a long held sigh released. It's so goddamn satisfying all on its own, and he bends his head to press his nose to Taylor's temple. ]

...green?

[ The word comes out so thick it barely makes it past his throat at all. ]

[ There's more effort, usually. More time building up to being full and wound tight and breathless, a few exploratory thrusts but Locus had been nothing if not thorough and York is nothing if not utterly boneless by the time he's halfway in, hands softly stroking through his hair and tracing his jaw in something like reverence. This is- there's an ache close to desperation without any of the urgency. A heat that threatens to overwhelm and consume that doesn't frighten him in the slightest.

It's just Locus. The same open, pale eyes that he'd noticed as soon as the helmet came of, that he could read like a damn book (when he wasn't being an idiot) close enough to blur. Just all this warm skin pinning him down as he locked an arm behind his shoulders to hold him close. Keep him close. ]

Green-

[ Breathless and drawn out, dragged up from the pit of his stomach where all that heat and crackling pressure has tangled up in this impossible, inevitable pressure. ]

All green-

[ Good. That's good, because this feels raw, naked in a way that has nothing to do with clothing and everything to do with all those seething emotions brimming and spilling over. The comparisons can't help but be drawn, again and again.

Taylor is safe. Taylor is trusted, he is cared for, he is wanted in a way that feels like a yawning void in his chest that pains him even while he feels this extraordinary. But every nerve is prickled awake, and he's not used to feeling this much for one person.

No.

He's not used to allowing himself to feel this much for one person. Letting himself. Knowing there is reciprocation and respect and so much more than that, and it's all so much more intense for that. He's the one taking Taylor here but he needs his permission before he dares move, before his hips rock back and ease forward, feeling that sweet drag of friction and pressure with a low huff of breath. ]

[ Cracked open every which way- the words are on his tongue but later, later. Things said in the middle of it don't hold as much weight and normally? He'd worry about saying it so damn soon but it seems like Locus has been on this train waiting for York to catch the fuck up for a long while now. But that slithers in and out of his head in half a heartbeat and then all he can feel is Locus. His weight, his warmth, the press of his breath and the slow glide of his cock;

So damn careful. So damn gentle and god- ]

Ah-

[ His head rolls forward, putting them nose to nose as he rolls his hips down to meet him. To catch him and keep him even as his control is scraped away inch by inch, cock hard and twitching between them. ]

[ Gentle, perhaps, in the way that he's learned to be gentle. It's not the aim. This is slow, methodical, dragging the moment out and feeling Taylor's breath huff out against his lips, scraped free along with those sweet little sounds as he moves. Flexes against him, pushes deep and grinds in to the hilt, just to ensure he's as deep as he could possibly get.

He wanted something else too, though, didn't he? Maybe... ]

Hold on to me.

Nnh? [ He'd asked for something, right? It doesn't matter to him in the moment, he's got this, Locus in him, around him, grinding in slow and sweet and so damn good that for a moment he doesn't respond. Noses in against Locus' jaw and shudders before the words click through into something that makes sense and he latches on. ] Yeah, I- Yeah.

[ Legs tucked up around him, he clings. Twists his hips just a little to be a shit, but clings. ]

[ Taylor might have forgotten, but Locus won't. He's too keenly aware of needing to do well, to do right, to make him happy rather than allow time for second thoughts.

So as soon as those limbs are wrapped around him, he eases to one side, tugging Taylor up off the sheets as he in turn rolls onto his back. The sheets feel cool and dry against his back, pleasantly so, and it doesn't hurt that the movement shifts Taylor's weight and...

Oh.

Oh that does feel incredible, doesn't it? ]

[ Over and above and oh- he had asked for this, hadn't he? Caught up in having Locus so focused on him, on the stretch and burn, on grinding down he'd kind of forgotten his own request, happy to roll with whatever came but this? This puts him in control- which he needs desperately right now if he wants to make this last at all.

He braces his hands on Locus' shoulders and pushes himself upright, hips grinding down in a slow circle as he gets his bearings. Gets his legs tucked up and settled so he can lift himself up enough to spark that drag and- ]

Oh god- [ His head lolls back on his shoulders, eyes half closed, mouth dropped open around ragged breathing as he adjusts to the new angle. ]

[ Something in Locus's gaze grew sharper as he watched Taylor lean back, settle himself into place and find his place of leverage. It left nothing from his view, from the naked look of pleasure written across his face to the taut muscle and storied network of scars scattered across his body.

All these things that made York who he was, laid bare. Open to him. And his fingers found a way up his hips, tracing one of those scars with his thumb as York twisted his hips to adjust.

The look on Locus's face almost approached awe. ]

[ Fine lines from the incident on the Silent Horizon, pockmarks from bullets and shrapnel and the newest shining scars from Felix's knife stand out due to the sweat slick flush of his skin. Nothing to hide. Nothing he wants to hide, not anymore.

He shudders and leans forward enough to catch Locus' eye, coming back to the present enough to take in his expression- the wide eyes, the inability to hide a goddamn thing. ]

How damn blind was I? [ How did he miss this warmth in Locus' eyes. How could he have been oblivious to everything that he offered without expectation? ]

Even if you had known, you weren't ready.

[ Heart hammering in his throat, the words still rumble free, his chin lifting slightly as he locks eyes with Taylor. Just the briefest of pauses, still riding on that high, thin line, but not so fargone yet that he cannot see what brought them here.

Again, that thumb strokes that line that Felix had left behind. Never again. ]

It was worth waiting. It would have been worth it even if you had decided not to.

[ It's more than a physical need being met, here. More than figuring out how they fit or how they work- it's cracking themselves open every which way and seeing down to the bone. The binary of what makes them, them.

One of Taylor's hands slides up to stroke Locus' cheek, thumb smoothing along the edge of the scar that crosses his face. Old hurts, old wounds. They fought and survived and came together with stilted steps to this near inevitability. How could he not, with all this awe, all this consideration laid bare at his feet?

His hips hitch, thighs clenching as he rolls down to start up something slow and burning and just as inevitable, eyes boring into Locus'. ] Everything. You- you're worth Everything

[ The first time it's ever been said to him that way. This isn't I'd burn the world for us, it's more. It's--

New. Frightening. He's not sure he's worthy of a look like that but he trusts Taylor to the last. He lets himself believe it as those hips move and he feels the friction scrape alive, that warmth washing through him anew. He wants to close his eyes, to just feel it.

Instead, he keeps his eyes locked right where they are. Everything. He gets everything. And a hand shifts to steady at Taylor's hip, letting him move as he will. ]

[ It's 'I'd burn myself to the bone to keep you warm'. It's the ragged mask of the monsters they'd been, the shadows of the trauma they carry in their blood, the promise of something steady if not simple. It's this tangling of their nerves and the uneven scars under calloused palms meant for triggers and magazines as they find the pace to breathe together.

It's everything. Locus is- everything.

And it's not as terrifying as it had been a day ago. A week ago.

He rolls down and rises up, keeping it slow. Building to something that crackles in the back of his eyes as every rock down spears him right through, squeezing when he thins he can stand to be overwhelmed- breath wet and thick between them. Words aren't a thing anymore- it's all Locus' eyes, his breath, his hands, the shape of his lips- ]

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