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.

Comments

[unlawful]

( ephemera sounds unhinged.

pretty par for the course, for every fight they've had. it has a little different edge this time, more raw, like he's out of his head except his hits aren't disorderly or sloppy. ephemera's a good fighter, outrageously dangerous with or without a weapon. felix skitters back as his leg lifts toward him; it hits him low, between the thigh and his hip. painful, but mostly it knocks him off balance, and that's far more dangerous than the pain.

he can't take direct hits from this fucker. can't fucking afford it. most people will hold back a little bit, if they're not truly fucking psychotic, but ephemera is a cornered animal in a cage and he'll beat him unconscious if he allows him to get the upper hand. maybe he'd kill him. maybe felix would let him.

no. stymie the bleed. don't go there.

fuck it, then. he finds his weight, staggering forward and feinting right, then shifts left before he makes contact with ephemera and slams his entire body against his front. his arm braces his shoulder, using him for leverage as he lifts himself against him. he fists his hair roughly, too close that ephemera will have to claw at him to get him off or punch in tighter, sharper. he just needs the momentary surprise, and the time it buys him.

he pushes off the ground with his toes, forcing his weight into him and snapping his head against his face. get him down, get him down, get him down, a manic chanting mantra in his head. difficult to maintain a grip when they're both so fucking slippery, but he holds tight, slanting his thigh near his hip and bearing into him hard. )

[requiemshark]

[ Problem is, Felix is fast. Fast as the sergeant and just as sharp when it comes to fighting in close. She had a different flair with knives but oh, Ephemera remembers the bite. She kicked his ass a thousand times on the matts. In armor, out of armor, again and again until he learned. How much can you take, soldier?

The answer is always, inevitably, more.

They go down, Felix's grip tight in his hair, wrenching back in time for Felix to clock him across the face. Ephemera hisses and they go down, down, down, clawing at each other and Felix controlling the descent.

No. No, it doesn't go like that.

Ephemera surges forward and bites him. Aims for the throat, digs his teeth in, and wrenches. ]

[unlawful]

( better. ephemera goes down, all that weight working against him when felix is on top of him, and he rolls as they hit the ground, pinning him flat. should've expected the teeth in his throat, maybe. it's the kind of tameless shit felix pulls when he's losing a fight, or when he wants to fuck someone up, throw them off their guard. no one expects a goddamn bite half the time. just bloody fists.

a guttural gasp rips through his chest, pain flaring where ephemera's teeth dig in. he'll rip out his fucking throat, and felix juts a hand under his chin to snap his head back into the dirt. his free hand slides from his hair to spread his palm over his face, thumb digging beneath the hollow of his eyesocket and pushing up. )

Fucking – ( his lungs ache. he's breathless, another busted lip from where his fucking head hit ephemera's face wrong because he never goddamn learns, apparently. he spits blood, digging toward his eye. ) Bitch.

[requiemshark]

[ Bad things happen when you get thrown to the ground. You get pinned, you get messed the fuck up, you get worse than dead. Ephemera bares his teeth, the sickly-sweet taste of blood in his throat like shiny new pennies. Shoves his face into the dirt, digging his thumb up toward his eye. Of fucking course. Brutal. Textbook. Felix could blind him for real. Wouldn't even be hard.

Ephemera bares his teeth and swings toward Felix's throat. Digging his nails in for the wound he made. And with his free hand, he does his level best to slap the fucker across the face.

People don't expect that one. It startles them. ]

[unlawful]

( yeah, that works.

not often felix is full-on slapped in a fight. last time was maybe ortez, who backhanded him hard enough he spit blood through his teeth and staggered back, unsteady, stunned. a warning slap, in his case, to get felix to back the fuck down and stop him from escalating an already bad situation into a nightmarish, unrecoverable one. ephemera's position means the hit is awkward, but it still rings sharp over his face, heat blooming where skin makes contact with skin.

his weight sways briefly back on ephemera's hips, where he has him straddled on the dirt. a flickering moment of surprise, softening his face and felling his guard, and then he's bearing back down, grabbing ephemera by the chin and pinching the flesh hard. he leans over him, inelegantly spitting blood directly in ephemera's mouth, and lifts back up only to punch him sharply across the temple. )

[requiemshark]

[ It hasn't escaped Ephemera's notice that they're both bare ass naked in the middle of a crowd. The moment they slow down is the moment things will shift, swing closer toward sex than violence, and he knows this city. He knows, and he refuses to play. Not like this. Never like this. So if that means he laughs like a crazy person as Felix punches him across the temple, then he laughs. Oil running slick through his hair, tickling unpleasantly over his scars and into his socket behind the prosthetic, oil in his fucking throat like the blood Felix spits at him.

He laughs and he doesn't. Fucking. Drop. He surges forward instead, trying to flip them, and goes for Felix's eyes. This was never going to be pleasant. ]

[unlawful]

( the world tilts. felix's weight shifts, as gravity gifts him with a big middle finger. he rolls, tucked under ephemera's body, and hisses like a fucking cat grabbed by the scruff, knocking his hands away from his eyes with his arm. perils of taking the fight to the ground: positions are always flipping, and you have to maintain your guard lest your enemy lunges for the opening and rightfully drops you on your ass for your carelessness.

but he's not dead until he's fucking dead, and he hasn't lost yet. that's important. that's the only thing that's important in this shitty fucking city. that he hasn't lost. that he's not losing. that he still has his fucking mind.

felix's hand digs into ephemera's hair. he jerks him down roughly, using his hair as an anchor, and pulls him flush against him. it's suffocating and claustrophobic, for a second, ephemera's weight crushing him to the dirt. then – deliberately, purposely – he arches under him, all his lithe pliancy dragging his hips up, into him. in the same second, he drives toward his throat a second time with a closed fist. it's a tight shot, cramped by a lack of space, but he doesn't need to hit him particularly hard as long as he hits his mark. it'll be enough.

he'll play dirty if he has to, and even when he doesn't have to, just because. he doesn't give a fuck. everything else is background noise. )

[requiemshark]

[ And down they fucking go. Ephemera bares his teeth and the world lurches, blurring around him. Blood and oil dripping into his good eye, fucking with his vision. And Felix under him, grabbing by the hair hard enough it makes his vision lurch, and -

And.

Ephemera's brain stutters out for a moment and that's when Felix hits him. Gets him straight in the throat and sets him to wheezing. Sex and violence, Ephemera thinks stupidly, and what happens next is pure reflex. He claps his hands onto the sides of Felix's face, getting a good grip, and then slams his head back to try and brain him like they're not pressed flush against each other. ]

[unlawful]

( got you, fucker.

the self-satisfaction runs deep, like poison. his turn to laugh, airy and viciously delighted, all the way through ephemera gripping him by the face and slamming his head into the dirt. his brain rattles around in his skull, and he tastes blood. bit his tongue. he can't feel anything for a second, the world buzzing out into white static and a burst of color, and then ephemera's weight returns, critically overheating, a solid mass on top of him. )

You're so fucking predictable. ( he's close enough he can feel his heartbeat against his chest, pounding out of rhythm with felix's frenetic pulse. doesn't even matter that he's still pinned. doesn't even matter that ephemera's got the full weight of his body on top of him. felix can't hear fucking shit. endless silence. quiet.

might be the blow to the head. he squirms needlessly, slippery friction sliding their limbs together, and licks blood off ephemera's bottom lip, lethally coy. got you, motherfucker. got you, got you. he rolls his shoulder off the ground, pushing into him in an attempt to flip them again and serve him another harder punch to his good eye. )

[requiemshark]

[ He's fought people like this before, everything brutal and close. In prison a couple times, in the Insurrection before, no armor in the equation but everything twice as sharp to compensate. Blood in the teeth. He's killed men with his bare hands before. Needs must. And then Felix leans forward and licks the blood from his lip. You're so fucking predictable.

The blow catches him right across his good eye and Felix flips them, predictable as clockwork. Ephemera hisses, the world lurching, and closes his fist to punch Felix in the goddamn head.

It's not good like this. It's slowing down. He surges forward and tries to bite him again. Dig his teeth in. ]

[unlawful]

( it occurs to felix – as they roll again, ephemera's back hitting the dirt – that he hasn't gone for his throat yet in any way that matters. the simplest, most brutal way to end this fight would be strangling him until he stops struggling, and he wonders why he hasn't tried it yet. too personal in a way that beating the shit out of someone isn't, maybe. strangulation takes time and deliberate, unwavering effort. more time means more time for doubt. most people don't have the balls. maybe the ephemera on chorus would've done it. this ephemera is different. changed.

felix has leverage on top of him, but ephemera has weight and width, and he can't hold the same position long enough to subdue him unless he gets him in a chokehold. no good fucking way to end this fight.

then ephemera nails him in the head and sends him reeling. his vision starbursts into blinding white. fuck, he hits hard. his direct blows are worse than his teeth in his skin, and felix has blood all over him now, running down his throat and collar, spattered across his bruised knuckles. his thighs squeeze ephemera's hips reflexively as he feels himself nearly topple sideways, recovering with a woozy, wounded little sound.

he sways forward instead, bracing his hand above ephemera's head. hard to think. feels like a valium high, close to euphoria. good. not enough, but nothing is. ephemera is so fucking warm, and he's got his blood in his mouth again. )

You still hit like a bitch. Fucking do something.

( his coordination has gone to shit. felix doesn't often take direct hits unless he's been caught off guard, not when he's out of armor. he's won every bar fight he's ever picked only because he's a terror who smashes beer bottles into weaponizable shards. people very rarely expect some ballistic asshole to come at them with a shard of glass, slicing his own hand to ribbons in the process. he has a scar to prove it, silvery and jagged, extending from middle finger to wrist on his right hand.

no glass here. no knives, either. no fucking weight advantage. that's fine. it's all fine.

he still winds back and punches him again, sloppy but committed. maybe he'll get lucky and break his nose a third time. )

[requiemshark]

[ There’s a back and forth to this that Ephemera doesn’t understand and doesn’t like, something a little less than the brutal unpredictable of a true fight. It feels like a game, is the thing, and it shouldn’t. He should gouge Felix’s eyes out with his fingers. Tear his throat out instead of just biting the shit out of him. There’s blood on the ground but not enough.

Not nearly enough. And Felix staring down at him like -

What? Like it’s a fucking game.

Ephemera bares his teeth. He takes the blow to the face and the world goes numb, but he doesn’t drop. He sways but he doesn’t fucking drop. ]

Not good enough.

[ He doesn’t touch Felix’s implant - they agreed, or maybe Felix just tossed it out there like a mercy - but Ephemera doesn’t bother holding back. He boxes Felix’s ears, hard, and then he goes for his eyes again. Vicious this time. Like it matters.

It ought to. This is too slow and Ephemera thinks that’s going to drive him even crazier. This isn’t right. He needs his armor and this isn’t right. ]

[unlawful]

( ephemera slaps him over the ears, and it's like standing near a frag as it goes off, disorienting, shrill ringing through his head that drowns out the sound of his heartbeat and ragged breath. time turns on a slow dial, stretching unnaturally. the primal part of him that he has no control over, that reacts purely on instinct, realizes that ephemera is going for his eyes next. he gropes blindly over his collar, finding the base of his throat with his fingertips and curling his hand into a fist.

he juts his fist into his throat hard, then hooks ephemera's arm under his elbow and twists into another roll. it puts ephemera back on top of him, and felix's throat slopes into an arch, wrenching ephemera by the forearm and slotting his heavy palm around his exposed neck.

not good enough is right. it never is with ephemera. he's always left wanting more. )

Let me fucking help you, then. ( his voice is a distant, faraway echo. he can't think clearly, all his nerves firing off at rapid speed, overwhelming him. he deliriously thinks of price and his cool, detached recounting of agent maine's fate. his rig was his coffin. he drowned. felix has never drowned before, but this kind of feels like drowning. ) You want it to stop, Ephemera? Make me fucking stop.

( how many fucking times does he have to tell him how easy it is. how many fucking mercies is he going to spare him. how long until felix loses his goddamn mind like ortez, like ephemera, like every drifting ghost that came back from the war wrong.

no. remember that you've always been wrong. that's the only irrefutable truth in the universe. he just always was. an anomaly. an act of god. a terrible mistake.

he knuckles ephemera's hair at his nape and jerks him down, knocking their foreheads together, slick with blood and oil. )

I'll ruin your life. You stupid motherfucker. I'll burn that shit to the ground.

( everything he's built since his arrival to duplicity, every shred of normalcy he's painstakingly dragged from a cold and frozen ground and made his. he'll light it up. he'll swallow it down. he'll devour him like he was going to devour chorus, gorge himself to the brim, and it still won't fill him or make him whole because what's inside him isn't hollowness but a sprawling, hungry black hole. nothing escapes the singularity.

felix hiccups on a slow, shuddering breath, damp lashes fluttering closed as he rolls his forehead against ephemera. ) Stop being such a goddamn disappointment.

[requiemshark]

[ It's like being underwater, or fielding a drop with faulty oxygen. All the edges filed off, the hurt shadowed. Everything distant and strange. Like it's happening to someone else. Rodriguez had tricks for shutting himself off, putting his mind into boxes, but Ephemera could never manage them. Rodriguez once set up a shot and stayed there for a full thirty hours before taking it. Mental discipline. Sniper tricks. All that bullshit. Ephemera's never been able to do it. He's always tied to the moment, to the present. There's no shaking it, no matter how fucked up he gets.

This is happening. It shouldn't be.

The flip. The world tilts, goes crooked around the edges, and Felix has him by the hair again. Wrenching him down until their foreheads crack together and -

Oh, Ephemera thinks, and goes very still. He tastes blood in his mouth, in his throat.

For a moment, he doesn't breathe. Because that -

It's familiar, that gesture. A kindness, in another context. With his team, his family. They couldn't hold each other in the field, not with their armor and with plasma rifles raining down on them, but they could bump their helmets together. A reminder. I've got you, my brother, my sister. Breathe.

Ephemera shifts. He ought to go for Felix's throat, his eyes, something. Maybe even get his hands around Felix's throat and snap his neck. End this. The angle isn't good but he's worked with worse. He's done this before. Armored, unarmored, it really doesn't matter.

Instead, he puts his hand over the back of Felix's neck. Shielding the implant. ]

Breathe.

[ Unlike before, his voice is calm. Hoarse, but calm. ]

[unlawful]

( ephemera doesn't tighten his hand around his throat the way he should. a miserable disappointment, felix thinks, wretchedly. in the hallway. on the roof. here. he never does what he should. he never does what felix expects, no matter how predictable, no matter how easy of a read. inescapable as fate. out of his fucking control.

he waits for a hit, then. like in the hallway, the snap of a pistol across his face and taste of gunmetal in his mouth. instead ephemera's hand sits heavily over the back of his neck, palm cupping his implant, and felix twitches under him. )

Don't. ( quiet and cornered, tight. please don't. i'm not like that. i'm not like you. did you not hear what i fucking said? don't. you'll suffer for this, too.

history repeats itself.

his fist loosens in his hair, fingertips skimming the back of ephemera's neck, ghosting his implant like the featherlight brush of a caress. he hooks his arm around ephemera's shoulders, pulls him down tight against him, until his weight grounds him into the dirt and they're pressed limb-to-limb, heartbeat to heartbeat. focus. where are you? duplicity. the up. the festival. a ring. there's a crowd. you're exposed. you're losing your shit. shut it down.

he can't. it's too late. he drops his head, mouth touching the muscled tendon where ephemera's shoulder slopes into his throat. his body is an anchor over him, holding him down, and that's more wrong than anything. that skims too close to a hurt that'll never heal. he thinks of ortez in ephemera's detailed sketch.

oh, fuck. )

Ephemera. ( fuck. he grips him tighter, viselike, lifting his head and pressing their faces close, sliding his nose against ephemera's nose. ) Please fucking don't.

[requiemshark]

[ They're close like this, enough that Ephemera thinks he could match his breathing to Felix's if he tried. If he wanted to. He shifts to brace on his arm so he won't crush Felix completely under him, so there's some room between them.

Not much, though. Not much at all. Oil slips through his hair, falling into his good eye. Fucking with his vision. Felix has an arm around him, pulling them flush to each other. This time, there's no violence. Felix could bite him, tear out his throat, dig his nails into Ephemera's implant.

Could. Doesn't.

Hah. This, Ephemera thinks, is probably what it feels like to lose your mind. When you know it's happening. When you feel it slipping away, inch by inch. Felix tightens his grip and Ephemera just breathes out. He feels strangely calm. Like there's a gun to his head.

Metaphorically, he supposes there is. He presses his forehead to Felix's and just breathes out slow. ]

Stop. Just breathe.

[unlawful]

( he wants to tell him that this shit never worked on him. his co tried, when he'd pop off in the middle of a fight and lay waste, hysterically manic. pull him back in. control him. ease him down. point him in an actual direction that didn't have him spraying shrapnel everywhere. ortez had better success, his voice and solid body a stabilizing presence. you're here, isaac. with me. he can't just fucking stop. what happens when he stops? nothing ever stops, not without a generous swallow of whiskey and a popped pill or two, his own personal cocktail. he can't stop talking, moving, consuming. he's constantly expanding. he'll stop when he's dead.

maybe it's ephemera's weight on top of him. his voice, bizarrely calm and centered, the only noise in felix's head. it doesn't make any fucking sense. nothing about this shit makes any semblance of sense, he'd said. ephemera is no good to him, so dispose of him. let him go. cut him loose and move on.

why is that so fucking impossible?

felix breathes. his teeth chatter violently, muscles twitching as his chest flutters through the inhale. back out, a second later. it doesn't feel natural.

his free hand moves between them, splaying flat on ephemera's collar. over his tattoo. redemption, scrawled in black ink across his skin, streaked in a shiny mix of blood and oil. he hadn't been able to reach it in the hallway, ephemera's shirt and jacket in the way. his breath fans ephemera's mouth as he exhales again. ephemera, indebted to his sins. felix, the sower of sins. he won't find redemption in felix.

he drags his hand up his neck, cupping ephemera's scarred cheek and rubbing his thumb over his prosthetic eye. his thumb drags his lashes, uselessly smearing away the oil, sliding along his brow to his temple, then across his forehead into his hairline.

where are you? tribute. reach. chorus. duplicity. he doesn't remember. it doesn't matter. )

If you don't get the fuck off me, I'm going to kiss you again. ( soft, but matter-of-fact, as if felix isn't gripping him tightly, halfway to desperate, like he needs to be held the fuck down or he'll float right out of his body. )

[requiemshark]

[ There aren't many people who touch his scars these days. Ephemera still has sensation there, though it's less. Damage layered on too heavy, everything underneath it distant and muted. Pain, anything else. He feels it, but not well. And he doesn't like being touched. Doesn't know how to take it. Sometimes, even when it's gentle, it feels like being raked over hot coals. Like being torn apart.

Funny thing is, he doesn't flinch. Not even when Felix drags his thumb across the surface of Ephemera's fake eye, smearing blood and oil in his wake. This is insane. It's the calmest he's felt in a very long time. Things just -

Slot into place. Like the middle of a drop. Nothing to do but wait it out, no point in panicking or wasting oxygen. Felix stares up at him and Ephemera watches him in turn, and it wasn't supposed to go like this. It wasn't.

But it is.

Ephemera watches Felix for a moment, his thoughts slowed to a calm trickle, and then leans in and kisses him first. ]

[unlawful]

( ephemera stares at him for so long that felix nearly does lose his mind.

then his mouth, warm and inviting on felix's mouth, and it feels like the worst kind of mistake. a choice deliberately made, heedless of felix's warnings. the final nail in the coffin, then the worst thought of all, squirming restlessly beneath a roiling surface: that this is all he's wanted since he kissed him in the hallway. more than the violence, or in spite of it. more than his own gun under his chin.

felix turns his hand in his hair, curling his knuckles tight around oil-slick strands, and parts his mouth for ephemera's tongue. the taste is a little grainy, powdery dirt and oil and blood licked from ephemera's open mouth, from the backs of his teeth. he pricks his bottom lip, needle-sharp. they could be on the titanium floors of the tartarus, for all he knows, back when ephemera was just a tool to be used and deployed against his enemies. there's nothing to feel now but ephemera's enveloping warmth and the startling softness of his mouth.

it seems wrong that either of them could be capable of such softness. after everything they've done. everything they've seen.

his hand pulls his hair, hard. he breaks from their kiss for a tiny, shivering sip of air, bumping their foreheads together. the arm around his shoulders loosens, palm sliding flat down the center of his spine, nails bumping ridges of bone and the hollow spaces between each vertebra. this is spiraling. they've been spiraling. he wrenches him impossibly closer and kisses him again, recklessly frantic. )

[requiemshark]

[ Felix tightens his grip and Ephemera's breath hisses out. It's real now, spots of pressure pulling him back to the moment. Holding him steady. Oil slides through his hair, down his skin, settles behind his prosthetic, and somehow it feels less hateful this time. Felix bites him, draws blood, but - strangely, maybe - it doesn't turn vicious. It just is. Another facet, another moment to be contended with. Ephemera keeps himself braced on one arm and kisses Felix, their foreheads pressed together, and -

They have an audience, is the thing. A crowd pressing close, expectations lined up like enemy targets. He keeps his hand on Felix's neck, shielding the implant. That feels important.

Breathe, soldier.

Oddly, he's calm. Oddly, Felix isn't.

Ephemera leans in close and kisses him again. Harder this time, dragging his teeth along Felix's lip. He doesn't draw blood. ]

[unlawful]

( felix chases that little hiss deeper into his mouth with a probing curl of his tongue, greedy, like licking from the bottom of a whiskey glass. he wants more. always more. ephemera is warm and solid and kissing felix hard enough that it can't be written away later, when the both of them return to their goddamn senses and come to terms with what the fuck happened here. there's no explanation for it. ephemera wouldn't do this if he knew what felix was.

except he does, and that's the problem.

the part of him that knows better, that tried to tell him don't do this in the hallway, has gone eerily silent. no second chances for him anymore, abandoning him to his fate. felix thinks oh, fuck, and wait, but this time, he pulls ephemera down instead of rolling him away from him. his hand drifts from his back, elbow knocking his arm where he has himself braced above him, to drop ephemera's weight and roughly drag him fully on top of him. closer. )

Fuck. ( a little choked and wildly senseless, shakily hitched against ephemera's mouth. he tilts his head back; the arena swims into an upside-down view, shadowy faces staring back at him impassively. it's both surreal and the most real fucking thing he's felt in a long time. back to ephemera, kissing him deep, then he arches his back and slots their limbs together, rubs into him obscenely slow and firm. )

[requiemshark]

[ Ephemera hisses again, the balance shifting, but the calm feeling remains. It's settled in him, heavy and inevitable. This is happening. He will survive it. The only thing that matters is the doing. The crowd doesn't shift closer. They've gone oddly silent. And Felix feels warm and real under him, the two of them pressed so close there's no shaking it. No ignoring this, no changing it.

It feels insane. Maybe it is. Maybe they both are.

It feels inevitable, too. Felix rubs against him and Ephemera breathes out slow. doesn't flinch away. He doesn't know if he can get hard like this, with a crowd watching. But Felix feels good, solid and warm, and he leans in and just kisses him again. Keeps one hand cupped around the back of his neck - always, always shielding the implant - and runs the other down his collarbone, skipping over scars and new bruises. They tore into each other. They always do.

Fuck.

He takes a slow, steadying breath, then presses his mouth to Felix's throat and drags his teeth down. Not enough to draw blood, not like before. But enough to feel. ]

[unlawful]

( felix could follow this all the way down, unthinkingly. naturally carnal, even in the middle of a crowded arena, strangers staring at him. hot, simmering instinct. the friction feels fucking good, and he wants ephemera's mouth and tongue and his hand on the nape of his neck, gently guarding his implant. that's not strange. that's felix being felix. that's expected. that's predictable. he'll swallow the entire universe and ephemera along with it. he does what he wants. he'll fuck who he wants.

the strangeness is in ephemera allowing it. pity. mercy, like the mercy felix has repeatedly offered him. as if he deserves it.

ephemera drags his teeth down his throat, scraping his pulse. felix jerks under him, and he can't hear himself but he feels the sound he makes in response, a low whine that turns ragged at the edges. he pulls at ephemera's hair, guiding his head back toward him, and licks his bottom lip. )

Hey. ( he sounds deceptively calm, but his heart betrays him, thudding like a hammer behind his ribcage. he eases his body into the dirt, away from the deliciously slick and tempting press of ephemera on top of him. his hand moves from ephemera's hair as he reaches back to where he's guarding his implant, worming his fingers under ephemera's fingers.

he finds his implant with his fingertips and digs in, where the pressure burns most. it immediately goes to his head, verging on excruciating. sometimes liquor or pills don't work. sometimes he has neither. next best option is this. letting the pain take him under. )

You're all good, Terrence. ( it's okay. it's fine, you don't have to do this for me of all fucking people. he stares at him through his lashes, angling his thumb above his implant. ) I'll call it.

[requiemshark]

[ Ephemera tips his head to the side, watching Felix. Taking him in, the way he looks with oil slicked through his hair. Blood stained on his throat, across his face, the marks that Ephemera left on him raw and real. There's a lot of blood on the ground now, spilled between them. There always is.

The calm feeling settles in him. If anything, it grows.

He leans forward and presses his forehead to Felix's. An old, comforting gesture. ]

Don't.

[ His voice is soft. Calm, as he links his fingers with Felix's. Tugging them away from his implant. ]

Don't do that.

[ This is insane. And yet.

Hah.

He breathes out slow and drags his free hand down along Felix's ribs. And then lower, settling over his hip. ]

[unlawful]

( ephemera twines their hands, loosely pinning felix's arm to the dirt. he could pull free easily, but he doesn't move for a few long, lingering seconds, and later he'll recoil at the thought that he viscerally wanted ephemera on him like this. that ephemera is still touching him, too. his callused fingers bump scars on his way down his front; the sensation is a flame licking at him from underneath his skin, ticklishly tender as it burns into him, scars him in a different way.

it is too slow. too purposeful. slowest anyone felix has ever let him touch him since his arrival to duplicity, unfolding like a fucking disaster he can't or doesn't want to escape. he shivers, slipping his hand from ephemera's and curving his fingers around his bicep, right over his ring of tattoos.

don't do that, he says, nightmarishly earnest. the edge topples closer, so felix falls. )

I'd let you. ( with a coaxing lick into his mouth, squeezing his bicep once before he returns his hand to his hair and fists hard. he would've let him kill him. he would've let him strip him from his armor and rut him mindlessly into the ground right in that fucking hallway. he would've let him take it as far as he wanted. he would've let him fuck him. can't take that back, he thinks vaguely.

the hand at ephemera's back slides lower, palm circling the sloping dimple of his sacrum and continuing down, curving under his ass. he grips a handful of flesh and drags ephemera's hips flush against him as he strains into another arch, grinds into him fully. his mouth tracks his jaw, his throat, teeth digging into his pulse and biting deeply. it'll bruise, leave a mark. )