duplicity inbox / cw for nsfw shenanigans.

[unlawful]

TEXT / VOICE / VIDEO / ACTION NOTE: felix generally responds to everything in text, even voice or video calls. expect 90% of his replies to be text-based regardless of urgency.

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[requiemshark]

[ He might as well be fully blind for all he can see in this goddamn dark. Nothing but the faint flash of Felix's eyes, maybe, the scrape of the blade against Ephemera's chin. The hollow sound it makes and how easy it would be for Felix to kill him then. Punch the blade into his jugular, into his good eye, bleed him out in the dark and be done with that. Would anyone even notice, out here? Would it even matter?

But he doesn't. The knife clatters away. And Felix puts his hand in Ephemera's hair, his mouth on Ephemera's throat and -

I'm crazy, Ephemera almost says. You know that, right? Because he feels insane then. Drifting from one thought to the next and just waiting for it to go poisonous on him. For everything to fragment like it always does because even in armor he's always been brittle. Or maybe not always but ever since he woke up alone, and burned, and his family was gone.

It made sense not to touch anyone in the aftermath. To put on his armor and go out into the world like no one would ever know him as a person again.

No one did. Not until he died.

Felix goes for his belt. For a moment, Ephemera doesn't move. Doesn't jerk away, but doesn't go with it, either.

Then he exhales in a rough hiss and drags his free hand down Felix's chest, over his stomach. And then lower, cupping him over those ridiculous fucking pants. I trust you. And somehow, deep down, he knows it isn't a lie. Because only a crazy person would say that. Only a crazy person could stand in proximity when Ephemera's like this, when he can't hold himself together long enough to pretend, and do this shit.

And only a crazy person would like it. Ephemera likes it, he realizes bleakly. And he so rarely likes sex these days. ]

Thought about it too.

[ His voice comes out rough. Smoke inhalation. Yet another scar. ]

Wanna paint you.

[ He wants to paint on him, Ephemera realizes. Against the skin. The thought burns like a fever dream. He twitches and presses forward, fighting against the grip Felix has on his hair until it goes sharp, until it makes his good eye water from the sting, and puts his mouth on Felix's neck. Just below the jaw, to return the favor and suck a mark there with his teeth. ]

[unlawful]

( maybe later felix will reflect on the strange, highly suspicious fact that he went straight for ephemera's dick. zero hesitation. right to the point, like this is a completely natural chain of events. he pops his fly and nimbly slides his hand inside, curving a firm grip around his cock. what's worse: that he's riding a fucking fever high, drugged out of his goddamn mind, or that it'd feel insanely, deliciously good even while stone-cold sober? that he wants it, regardless? that he's wanted it at all?

a warm hand slots between his thighs. felix's chest hitches on a tight, throaty sound, pulse hammering wildly beneath ephemera's tongue. he arches into the press of his palm, chasing the contact. )

Fuck.

( in contrast to the roughness in ephemera's voice, felix sounds dangerously soft; a budding whine, fractured at the edges. he snakes his hand from his trousers and spits into the cup of his palm. back to his cock again, squeezing him roughly in his fist, friction made slick and hot. he wants to paint him. even to a mindlessly wild felix, that means something. shouldn't be something he gives a fuck about, either. more strings to delicately pluck, more weaknesses to exploit. you're forgetting, gates. this man isn't your fucking friend.

( then, quieter: this man isn't who you want him to be. )

he exhales through his nose, swallowing roughly. considers, for a brief, insane second, picking up ephemera's discarded knife and stabbing him in the goddamn heart, to set the world and universe right again. this is wrong. felix doesn't let anyone back him into a fucking wall. ephemera doesn't stand over him, cocooning him from the outside world with his bulk and height, like he's someone to be protected. felix doesn't think about terrence fucking ephemera at all, not him on top of him, not his scars or his tattoos or his cock inside him. this is wrong. this shit should've ended on chorus. this is wrong.

his chest hitches again. tension ripples through him like a hairline crack on an icy pond, dragging his spine taut. he eases his grip in ephemera's hair and curves his body into tight alignment with ephemera's body, hiking ephemera's thigh higher between his legs. )

Tell me you want me, too.

( ridiculously, he needs to hear it. )

[requiemshark]

[ They're too close like this, drawn tight to proximity and Ephemera imagines he can hear the klaxons screaming in warning - or maybe just his own pulse hammering in his ears. Drowning out the world. They're too close, on top of each other, practically inside each other, and it feels like a contact burn and like a balm all at once. Felix's hand on him, Felix pressed against him, rocking into it. That sound he makes. The way that Ephemera feels himself getting harder. The way he's been hard since this started. The way he flinches whenever someone brushes against him but still holds his ground.

It's hard to focus. None of this feels real except for Felix and that -

That's fucking insane.

Ephemera closes his good eye. They're tangled up in each other now but he can still rub his hand against Felix's cock. Chase that sound, try to coax it out of him again. He wants to. So why the fuck not? ]

Want you.

[ Like before, it comes out rough. Muffled against Felix's throat. ]