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.
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"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.
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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.
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"Have a good nap, Spriggs."
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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.
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Almost.
But that's one thing that will never completely leave, and he prefers it that way. Better something than nothing.