Private SL: Untilt

[radicalliars]

Loker was running through the halls to the room number that Cal had sent to him. There were so many different scenarios running through his head now, worry a tinge to his thoughts. Monsters? He couldn't believe he was actually thinking that, but the more research he did into it, the more it seemed like the truth. And it wasn't as if that was

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[radicalliars]

Cal's right, of course, and Loker shifts in slight ways that's all admission at the accusations. This doesn't change how he feels, because he's always been interested in this side of Cal, in the one that got thrown out of Vegas, the one that took a Master's degree and the founding principles of the facial action coding system to conning people at gambling. Sometimes, he can't help playing to that side of Cal, and now he's somehow - impossibly - standing in front of him, and they're not really talking about it. Not like it's a problem, like it's a puzzle to solve, but that it should have been what Eli was talking about first

[radicalliars]

There's a low murmur as Cal grabs his wrist, and Eli lets him pull his hand away, instead bracing against the felt of the table as he moves. He pulls back, almost all the way, so that for a moment, they're only barely connected, and then Cal is pushing back in. Loker can't help the way he shakes at the feeling of it, the way his body tenses, flexes around Cal as the man buries deep inside of him. Cal hits that spot, and it makes him shiver, steals his breath because it's on that edge of being almost too goodCal quickly turns one breath-stealing thrust into a hard rhythm, holding onto Eli's hips as he thrusts in, and Loker is wanton and heedless, pushing back, using the leverage of his legs on Cal's shoulders to meet his thrusts with shaking cries of pleasure and desire. He wont last long, not like this, with the way that Cal thrusts in over and over, how tightly wound he is. His hands are jittery as they touch him, like he can't get enough, feeling against skin, one hand curling around a bicep, fingers against the band of inked

[cardsharpcal]

Cal wants to hold out a little longer, but there's no way he can. He's headed to the edge fast, and he hopes he's bringing Eli right over it with him. It looks like he is, feels like it. The way Eli's body is tense around him, the way he moves harder against him, faster, using his legs and any leverage he can manage, scrambling for a way to hold him. Cal's breathing hard and he can't get enough of watching Eli, the way he shakes and arches and turns his head, so overwhelmed and needy.

It's not long before he's coming, one hand braced against the table as he gives a few more hard, staccato thrusts, filling him as he tries to push on, keep moving so Eli can come with him. He's still rocking into him and he insinuates a hand down between them, around Eli's cock to give a few purposeful strokes, to bring him off before he can't keep moving anymore, and he groans, voice low and thick with command, "Come on, Eli..." 

[radicalliars]

There's a cry on his lips, body writhing as Cal's coming inside him, his thrusts hard, fast and sharp and Eli is so impossibly close when those fingers wrap around his cock. His body shifting, rocking into Cal's fingers at those few strokes of his hand. He's almost there, almost falling over the edge, and then there's Cal's voice in the scant space between them. Low, hot, heavy with demand, and it's like fire through his body, heat pooling in his stomach, even more certain than the fingers around his cock, and he's shaking as he comes. Almost electric, that insistence taking him to the end, coming for Cal, as much as because of him as he looks up at him with wide green eyes, his pupils blown with need

[cardsharpcal]

God, watching him come is intense, and he can feel it, feel the way his body tenses up like a vice around him, the pulse of his orgasm gripping and releasing him. He really is gorgeous, staring back up at him with those wide green eyes, naked and flushed and spread out before him, writhing, shaking. He's absolutely come apart, and it's always so easy to get him there, to do the things that pick apart his control, but this is the first time it's been quite like this

[radicalliars]

Loker watches as Cal wipes his hand off on those pants on the table that had been the subject of initial contention. He shifts, taking Cal's hand and letting the other man help him up off the poker table. He's not sure he's over going to be able to look at it in a non-sexual light ever again. Sadly, making it back to Cal's room means putting on clothes, and so Eli tries to collect his, even though he doesn't want to let go of Cal's hand, either. There's a moment, small and brief where he laces their fingers together, curls his hand with Cal's before letting go, slipping into his briefs and his jeans. He pauses with his shirt in his fingers, stealing a look at Cal that's less than stealthy, that same question hovering on his lips.

What does this mean to you?Cal's never answered, always pushed him away, kept him at arm's length, until now. He wonders if he can ask now and get an answer, decides he can wait until they're back in Cal's room. Because he is so following him back. He needs to curl up with him, that moment afterward

[cardsharpcal]

Cal doesn't miss the way Loker doesn't want to let go of his hand. He doesn't mind it, actually, he rather likes it, the way Loker wants to be close, wants to linger after, pressed close and touching. Cal isn't totally steady just yet, and as he bends to pick up his jeans and underwear, he sways but recovers quickly, laying the jeans over the table as he straightens out the underwear and steps into them. Then he's pulling his jeans back on and zipping them up, and he's thinking about where his shirt got to when he sees Loker looking at him, holding his own shirt. He can see what he wants to ask. It's obvious, because he's asked before, and Cal never answers him. He's always wanted to just let things play out

[radicalliars]

Eli's about to say something, confused as Cal steals the shirt from his hands. But before he can, Cal's pulling it down over his head, hands smoothing it out, and he just smiles a little lopsidedly at him.

"Yeah, yeah it does."

It takes a little bit of looking before he finds Cal's (it somehow managed to land under the poker table) and there's a moment before he's pulling it on, where he's breathing in the smell of him. It makes his heart race, even just something as subtle and quiet as this. It's one of the reasons he likes staying in Cal's room; the way he can smell him, on the blankets, on the pillows. He pulls it on softly, and the tee-shirt that was baggy on Cal fits Loker surprisingly well. He grabs his button-down off the floor, toes into his shoes and head for the door with a tilt of his head and a smile that's all sweet affection.

[cardsharpcal]

Cal's pleased to see that the shirt fits him well, and he sees, too, the way he doesn't pull it on right away. He smells it first, and it's oddly endearing. He's going for his shoes, looking for them and then stepping into them, using it as an excuse to give Eli a moment to put the shirt on and take that moment without being stared at. Cal never would have given him that time, the moment to himself, but right now Cal needs a moment, too. He needs to collect himself, just a bit, before he comes back to Eli

[radicalliars]

He can't help but smile when Cal passes him on the way to the door, and he pauses when fingers cup against his ass, and then Cal's hand wraps around his wrist. He pulls against Eli's hand, moves like he's leading him, like that moment of hesitation was too much and he lost his chance. But, it's different and new, and he can't imagine the older Cal doing this, not when it's so close to a mimicry of how Eli linked their fingers before. And maybe that's the intention, and he wonders, only briefly, before he dares it. He lets his slender fingers tangle against Cal's hand, shifts how he's holding onto him, leading him. His heart is pounding in his chest, because with Cal giving something back, Eli doesn't know where the lines are anymore, so all he can do is push at all the little things that he knows he wouldn't have been allowed, waits to see where Cal redraws the lines.

Eli doesn't say anything, but he waits to see if Cal does as they move to his room, mostly looking like they're holding hands.

[cardsharpcal]

Cal fixes him with a look, one with raised, questioning brows and a slow, amused smile that comes on the heels of it, and finally he spreads his fingers and links them with Eli's, purposefully, and squeezes once before tugging him a little closer, forcing them to bump together as they move down the hall to Cal's room. It's closer than Eli's, and he prefers to be in home turf.

"All the shirts in my room are made for a giraffe… they'd probably fit you," he mentions it casually. He's known it before, but before today, he's enjoyed watching Loker uncomfortably wear the too-short shirts he's been finding in his room, taking sick pleasure in it. And maybe, more than likely, enjoying the way they rode up.

It's casual, the way he's talking about sharing the clothes he's found in his room, but the way they're holding hands is anything but. It's linked fingers and a sway to the joined arms as they walk, their bodies finding time together.

[radicalliars]

Eli looks at Cal, all baited breath and unsure if he's pushed too far at the questioning way Cal's brows raise, but his worries are soothed by that smile. His breath catches as it's Cal that laces their hands together, a soft squeeze against his hand. Once it settles, Loker returns the gesture, a soft squeeze of his slender fingers against Cal's hand as the man tugs his body in closer, bumping lightly together as they head to Cal's room

[cardsharpcal]

Cal can't help but notice how adorable Eli is, unable to stop smiling if he tried. The swing of their arms together is casual and easy, surprising because of the difference in their height, and Cal is leading the way, just a smidge ahead of Eli.

"Maybe I'll swing by and nick a few one of these days… I swim in these," he gestures to his room, indicating the ones that are there, and he opens the door and lets go of Eli's hand to pass through the door. He drops the bag of, if he's honest, mostly guns and booze, on a chair, and he's already kicking off his shoes, careless of where they're ending up, and unzips his jeans and pushes them off. Eli maybe hasn't shut the door yet, but Cal apparently doesn't care, and he throws the jeans onto the bag of winnings and pulls back the covers and flops down onto the bed, the way a kid might, but that, that hasn't changed at all. Cal has always moved like that.

Then he's settling in, making a big show of getting comfortable, and he grins at Eli and pats the space beside him on the bed.

[radicalliars]

"I wouldn't mind," Eli offers with a soft smile, as Cal mentions taking some of the shirts from his room. As if he has to say as much, as if it's not obvious. As if there's any question that it's not just another thing that he'll give to Cal, that he wouldn't enjoy seeing him in those shirts and knowing he's worn them before.

He follows in after Cal, closing the door behind him, but he's already started to strip. It makes him smile and he stops, pauses to enjoy the view. He's beautiful. He's always thought Cal was attractive, even with almost twenty years on him, but he can't deny that losing twenty years makes him even more striking.

He grins as Cal flops down in bed, pats the space beside him expectantly. Loker strips down to his briefs, and that undershirt and crawls in beside him with a smile. He leans in close, a soft murmur at the proximity. This is... nice.

[cardsharpcal]

"I figured as much," he says

[radicalliars]

It's heavy and as intense as if it's burning inside of him, the desire to push, to ask what this all means, if it means anything at all. He wants it to. He wants it so badly that now, when everything has been so different, he's almost afraid of the answer. This thing he'd had with Cal wasn't quite what he wanted, not really, all unadmitted and nothing for certain. But it was something, and apparently he'd gotten somewhat attached to the fact that it wasn't 'no', too