"If you think that was a good fuck, Izzy, I've some bad news about the quality of partner you've been cultivating," Lucius tells him.
It's goading, yes, but Izzy's flirting.
For a given value of flirting, of course.
He's throwing his weight around. Dressed, harsh, gloved and glowering, Izzy is the picture of a man trying to be in control and Lucius...well he doesn't dislike it. The little drag of leather up his side, the way he catches a stray drop that's escaped his shoulder and trailed down to his waist, that's as bold as any of Lucius's compliments or sketches. Different dialect, same meaning. He's not sure, yet, if Izzy wants submission or if he wants to push him into line. Either way, though, Izzy's going to have to do something about it.
Lucius is many things, but easily cowed and demure? Are not among them.
"But do go on. Tell me how it really works?" he asks and turns to face Izzy directly, his washcloth sweeping through the mess just above the hand flattened on his chest. If he dampens Izzy's glove in the process, well, so be it.
"I don't cultivate partners. Unlike you, I'm a busy man." He lets his eyes travel the slope of Spriggs' body. It's not a type he usually prefers, but there's something too the softer side of things. Or maybe it's the fucking flowers. He can still almost taste them and feel the tickle along his skin. That must be it.
He moves his hand away before it gets wet and cups Lucius' cheek, resting his thumb along his lower lip in an almost tender gesture. He can feel the heat of it even through the glove.
"I don't plan to tell you. That's your problem. You talk too much and act too little. But I will show you." He crooks his thumb then, pressing along the edge of Lucius' lower teeth even as he steps closer, feeling the boy's heat like a living thing. He bears his own teeth at it but by that time he is lingering near Lucius' ear, expression out of sight.
"You'll need more than a nap when I'm done." He says it against Lucius' ear, softly but with intention and uses his own weight to press him against the wall. Fuck there's something nice about that. The give of him. He tries to ignore this, pressing his free hand against the wall as well to brace himself, feeling the heat of Lucius hip against his thumb.
He drags his mouth from the lobe of the boy's ear, finding the pulse in his neck, mouthing it, dragging his teeth just lightly against Lucius' skin and ending in a nip just to get the boy's blood going. All the while he keeps an ear out for any sound, keeps his body attuned to feel any twitch or any quiver of muscle. A body isn't too different from the sea if you learn how to read its moods.
Izzy presses him back, all threat and promise wrapped in a nice little leather package. Lucius doesn't resist any of his touches or movements, doesn't flinch as that leather-clad hand settles against his face and that thumb parts his lips, presses against his teeth. Izzy doesn't want him to talk, then? That's fine, he can be quiet--after a fashion.
That beard burns the skin between the slide of Izzy's mouth and Lucius grins against his thumb. Each nip earns a shiver, unguarded, each shift of his mouth a little press forward, up and into him, responsive as those stupid flowers in the sun. Lucius has nothing to be ashamed of in this and, as though he is eager to prove that, he gives to the press of Izzy's thumb and takes it into his mouth, lets it rest on his tongue so he can draw it between his lips and suck.
He has nothing to do with his hands and, frankly, that's a pity. He abandons the wet cloth to the floor and the remaining water drips down the length of his body. He shouldn't be so hot and bothered so quickly--he's incorrigible, but even he has a refractory period...except, apparently, he does not. Not today, it seems. He can already feel his cock twitching and wonders if he'll be able to go again.
As he ponders his prick, Lucius tests what Izzy is willing to give him. Will he allow a hand on his hip, fingers tucked into the leather waistband of his trousers? Will he let Lucius's other hand settle on his shoulder? Neck? Curl into his mussed up hair?
He snarls at the hand in his hair. Everything else is expected. Lucius drawing in his thumb so that Izzy can just feel the damp heat of his mouth, the hand on his hip- all of that is fine, but the one in his hair pulls at his scalp and sends darts of heat downward, though not the kind he wants.
"Handsy fucker, aren't you." And he nips Lucius a little harder than necessary. It makes him think... It makes him wonder... He could seduce this little prick all day long, but he's taller than Izzy- it's not the same, it will never be the same--
But maybe it will be close enough... He pulls his thumb from the boy's lips, knowing that'll leave him free for talking but he'll do his best to ignore that. Then he closes his eyes and presses a lingering kiss to the spot he bit, pulling in a deep breath through his nose, smelling sweat and his own leather and though it's only a hint of what he needs, it's just enough, like the last drop of water on a isolated shore.
He moves his hands to the boy's hips, pulling him close, feeling the heat of skin against his bare palm and groans softly. He spreads more nipping kisses along his collarbone, tenderly almost, maybe too much so, but he doesn't care- He doesn't care. If he could only have this. This barest hint. This barest fucking scrap-
Lucius lets out a little throaty chuckle at the retaliatory bite but he certainly doesn't remove his fingers from Izzy's hair. The hand on his hip, in fact, shifts up until he can thread his fingers almost all the way beneath that waistband. He's touching nothing but shirt, no skin yet to be found, but it's a nice pressure and warmth.
Izzy withdraws his hand and hauls him in by the hips. He bites down, sharp and then careful, all along his collarbone and--something shifts. This isn't Israel Hands giving him a punishment, teaching him what it's like. This isn't Izzy being consumed by pollen and heat. This is something else and, Lucius realizes with a short lurch in his gut, something probably not meant for him.
You don't fuck as many people as Lucius does without realizing when someone is imagining another lover. It's the incongruities--they don't happen little by little, they happen all at once, just like Izzy's shift here. Pulling him in rather than pressing him back. Tender movements of mouth, almost reverent? The long inhale as he crowds him, but after Lucius has swiped that part clean.
"Fuck off--" Lucius says, voice high and offended as he grips Izzy's hair to pull his head away and withdraws his fingers to shove the man off him. He looks absolutely aghast as he does it. "You were not just doing that."
He was not envisioning Edward Teach in Lucius's place. The fucking gall.
He's slightly shocked by it, honestly. But he's not ashamed of it. He moved past that point a long time ago. He doesn't expect Spriggs to understand. He doesn't expect anyone to understand. He pulls away and puts some distance between them. There are still prickles under his skin and his clothes are uncomfortable but a few hours of steady drinking will cure that.
"Enjoy your sad wank, Jizzy," Lucius jeers as he bends to pick up the discarded cloth and scrub the rest of Izzy off him.
He's a little jilted, sure, but who wouldn't be? He can take being called names, being backed into a wall, being threatened and insulted, but he won't do all that happily for a man who doesn't even want to fuck him. He can find another willing hole to envision Edward Teach around, and another ear to rant about how sterling his company is and how pathetic Lucius is for all his self respect.
Once he's done he casts the rag off, stalks to the bed, and drops down for a comfortable sleep. Fuck Izzy.
"I'm better than that." He recognizes the irony but doesn't give a shit. He leaves though and finds a bar and drinks himself stupid and somehow manages to find a bed. It almost takes the sting with it.
Almost.
But that's one thing that will never completely leave, and he prefers it that way. Better something than nothing.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
It's goading, yes, but Izzy's flirting.
For a given value of flirting, of course.
He's throwing his weight around. Dressed, harsh, gloved and glowering, Izzy is the picture of a man trying to be in control and Lucius...well he doesn't dislike it. The little drag of leather up his side, the way he catches a stray drop that's escaped his shoulder and trailed down to his waist, that's as bold as any of Lucius's compliments or sketches. Different dialect, same meaning. He's not sure, yet, if Izzy wants submission or if he wants to push him into line. Either way, though, Izzy's going to have to do something about it.
Lucius is many things, but easily cowed and demure? Are not among them.
"But do go on. Tell me how it really works?" he asks and turns to face Izzy directly, his washcloth sweeping through the mess just above the hand flattened on his chest. If he dampens Izzy's glove in the process, well, so be it.
no subject
He moves his hand away before it gets wet and cups Lucius' cheek, resting his thumb along his lower lip in an almost tender gesture. He can feel the heat of it even through the glove.
"I don't plan to tell you. That's your problem. You talk too much and act too little. But I will show you." He crooks his thumb then, pressing along the edge of Lucius' lower teeth even as he steps closer, feeling the boy's heat like a living thing. He bears his own teeth at it but by that time he is lingering near Lucius' ear, expression out of sight.
"You'll need more than a nap when I'm done." He says it against Lucius' ear, softly but with intention and uses his own weight to press him against the wall. Fuck there's something nice about that. The give of him. He tries to ignore this, pressing his free hand against the wall as well to brace himself, feeling the heat of Lucius hip against his thumb.
He drags his mouth from the lobe of the boy's ear, finding the pulse in his neck, mouthing it, dragging his teeth just lightly against Lucius' skin and ending in a nip just to get the boy's blood going. All the while he keeps an ear out for any sound, keeps his body attuned to feel any twitch or any quiver of muscle. A body isn't too different from the sea if you learn how to read its moods.
no subject
That beard burns the skin between the slide of Izzy's mouth and Lucius grins against his thumb. Each nip earns a shiver, unguarded, each shift of his mouth a little press forward, up and into him, responsive as those stupid flowers in the sun. Lucius has nothing to be ashamed of in this and, as though he is eager to prove that, he gives to the press of Izzy's thumb and takes it into his mouth, lets it rest on his tongue so he can draw it between his lips and suck.
He has nothing to do with his hands and, frankly, that's a pity. He abandons the wet cloth to the floor and the remaining water drips down the length of his body. He shouldn't be so hot and bothered so quickly--he's incorrigible, but even he has a refractory period...except, apparently, he does not. Not today, it seems. He can already feel his cock twitching and wonders if he'll be able to go again.
As he ponders his prick, Lucius tests what Izzy is willing to give him. Will he allow a hand on his hip, fingers tucked into the leather waistband of his trousers? Will he let Lucius's other hand settle on his shoulder? Neck? Curl into his mussed up hair?
no subject
"Handsy fucker, aren't you." And he nips Lucius a little harder than necessary. It makes him think... It makes him wonder... He could seduce this little prick all day long, but he's taller than Izzy- it's not the same, it will never be the same--
But maybe it will be close enough... He pulls his thumb from the boy's lips, knowing that'll leave him free for talking but he'll do his best to ignore that. Then he closes his eyes and presses a lingering kiss to the spot he bit, pulling in a deep breath through his nose, smelling sweat and his own leather and though it's only a hint of what he needs, it's just enough, like the last drop of water on a isolated shore.
He moves his hands to the boy's hips, pulling him close, feeling the heat of skin against his bare palm and groans softly. He spreads more nipping kisses along his collarbone, tenderly almost, maybe too much so, but he doesn't care- He doesn't care. If he could only have this. This barest hint. This barest fucking scrap-
Maybe it'll be enough.
no subject
Izzy withdraws his hand and hauls him in by the hips. He bites down, sharp and then careful, all along his collarbone and--something shifts. This isn't Israel Hands giving him a punishment, teaching him what it's like. This isn't Izzy being consumed by pollen and heat. This is something else and, Lucius realizes with a short lurch in his gut, something probably not meant for him.
You don't fuck as many people as Lucius does without realizing when someone is imagining another lover. It's the incongruities--they don't happen little by little, they happen all at once, just like Izzy's shift here. Pulling him in rather than pressing him back. Tender movements of mouth, almost reverent? The long inhale as he crowds him, but after Lucius has swiped that part clean.
"Fuck off--" Lucius says, voice high and offended as he grips Izzy's hair to pull his head away and withdraws his fingers to shove the man off him. He looks absolutely aghast as he does it. "You were not just doing that."
He was not envisioning Edward Teach in Lucius's place. The fucking gall.
no subject
"Have a good nap, Spriggs."
no subject
He's a little jilted, sure, but who wouldn't be? He can take being called names, being backed into a wall, being threatened and insulted, but he won't do all that happily for a man who doesn't even want to fuck him. He can find another willing hole to envision Edward Teach around, and another ear to rant about how sterling his company is and how pathetic Lucius is for all his self respect.
Once he's done he casts the rag off, stalks to the bed, and drops down for a comfortable sleep. Fuck Izzy.
no subject
Almost.
But that's one thing that will never completely leave, and he prefers it that way. Better something than nothing.