Chapter Text
FELIX
His thighs still ached when he woke up. He should have known they would, to be fair. It was a foregone conclusion given how Ollie'd had him splayed out. Felix needed to take up yoga or something, get flexible to counteract their height difference. Or just buy Oliver some sex stilts.
Oliver was already awake, wrapped up in a fluffy hotel dressing gown, frowning at his phone. Felix's first thought was not fucking Ware again, but Oliver was scrolling, not typing.
“Whassup?”
He stretched, the t-shirt he'd slept in sticking to his chest. It hurt; Felix glanced down, expecting Hostel levels of gore, but no. He was busying himself peeling the fabric away from whatever gunk had attached it to his nipples as Oliver set his phone down on the bedside table with a click.
“Your balls.”
“My…” Felix paused, looking up at Oliver, who had folded his arms behind his head. He looked casual, as if Felix's balls were often the cause of serious morning contemplation. Oh dear, what wacky hijinks will Felix's knackers get up to today? “What about my balls?”
Oliver gave him a steady look, mouth stretching a little at the corners. Glasses on, again, so he had been doing some serious reading. “You had a vasectomy after Ellie was born, right? So about… Thirteen years, give or take?”
“Yeah.” The shirt came away with a sharp sting, and Felix grimaced. Not just at that. “Bloody hurt. Swelled up like a baboon's arse… Hung out on the library sofa with a bag of frozen peas in my lap for a week and a half. Apparently it was fine- had the doc in to check- but I’m just sensitive.”
Not exactly the best memory to start the day with, and Oliver looking amused didn't help. Rude of him, honestly, given that he never had to consider having someone have at him with a scalpel down there. “Where, exactly, are you going with this, Olls?”
“Well… I thought I'd read up on the baby thing. Find out about the process. All of that. You might not even be producing sperm any more. If you are, then- well- how are they going to get it out of you?” Oliver's mouth twisted, slightly, and Felix squinted at him. The assumption that he would be fathering their future child was something Felix hadn't anticipated, but it… It was probably a discussion they should have.
“They don't need to.” Felix rolled onto one side, grabbing Oliver’s crotch through his boxers for a couple of seconds. Oliver, to his credit, didn't even flinch. “Bet you're pumping out tons of swimmers. Top tier, too, brainy as anything.”
“Come off it.” Oliver leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He looked mildly amused, as if Felix was joking, but he was as serious as the bloody plague. “They can apparently extract it somehow, or reverse the vasectomy, but depending on how long… It might not work.”
Felix hauled himself into a kneeling position, scrabbling to straddle Oliver's legs with a wince at the stretch in his inner thighs. Oliver opened one eye, curious, and Felix folded his arms. He did it carefully, though, not wanting to get his nips all throbby again. “No. Your turn. Might have noticed, Olls, but I've already done my part on the reproduction front. Even if Ru and Ellie… Well, Harry is definitely mine. Practically a clone.”
“Obviously. That's why I thought… So they'd look like their siblings?” Oliver sounded a little uncertain, and Felix groaned to himself, shuffling forward a little to brace his hands on the wall beside Oliver's head. “Otherwise it'll be… Harry, Ru, Ellie and then…”
“Don't see why that's important.” Felix tilted his head, just daring Oliver to try to discredit himself. Nobody got to be rude about Felix Catton's fiancé, even the man himself. “For starters, love, they'll know that they're half siblings. Be a bit hard to sneak that past them. Then… Yeah, it'd be criminal not to try to pass those eyes of yours down. And- finally- I'm not letting anyone mess about with my bollocks except for you.”
“I haven't messed around with your bollocks.” Oliver finally unfolded his arms, letting his hands drop to Felix's thighs. Patting them, one after the other, a little drumbeat. Felix frowned. Surely there'd been… Something, but… “You never really went for mine, so I figured… Leave yours be? At first I just didn't want to startle you, but then there's been so much other stuff…”
“Huh.” That… It made sense, to be honest. Felix found himself making thinking faces, shoving himself back off of Oliver to lie beside him.
“Guess, er, I'm fairly used to them not being particularly involved. Y'know, given my track record and then the ol’...” He held up a hand, making a little scissor snip motion in the air, before collapsing onto his back, using one foot to scratch the opposite calf. “Did hook up with a girl once who kept yanking on them, like she was trying to start a bloody chainsaw. And, yeah, after the whole frozen peas thing… Never really involved them much. If at all. Lu wasn't keen.”
Oliver chuckled, shaking his head slowly, before shuffling down and carefully snuggling up to his side, being careful to avoid his chest. Felix wriggled an arm under his head, stroking his shoulder. Oliver was probably doing this to distract him from the whole who will father our future child debate, but it was interesting to think about. Felix hadn't really minded Lucia's general disinterest in that area, and it had been par for the course that they were more… Decorative. The whole post-vasectomy owch had made him hesitant to really do anything with them, and he was glad that Oliver hadn’t gone straight for them, but…
“How are your piercings doing?” Oliver nudged his side with a finger, and Felix shrugged, catching the bottom of his t-shirt to tug it up. They looked fine. A little… Crusty, but that was to be expected. Oliver didn't seem put off by that; he lifted his head, a hand settling on Felix's stomach. Oliver's fingers kept twitching, and he seemed to find it impossible to look at Felix's face.
“Want to help me clean them later?” It was, perhaps, a bit cheeky to put his hands on his chest, doing the ol’ push them up and together motion. It was just so cute, seeing Oliver go all twitchy. He didn't think he'd ever seen anyone get so excited over nipples, and he'd had a bootleg Girls Gone Wild DVD at one point.
“Yes. Please.” Oliver had gotten his bottom lip between his teeth, and Felix could have guaranteed that if he'd nudged that dressing gown out of the way… He reached over, getting hold of Oliver's chin, turning his head towards him. His eyes tried to stay, but they eventually slid to Felix, cheeks flushed but otherwise unapologetic. Felix smiled at him, a real I win expression although he wasn't sure exactly what his prize was. If it was more of last night, though…
“Now you know how I feel about those glasses of yours.” Felix could just control it better; he'd had plenty of practice. Oliver laughed, soft, and Felix pulled him closer. Ollie’s eyes started to close reflexively, and Felix ghosted their lips together. “Last night was fucking amazing, Ollie-love, but I think you owe me a few kisses.”
Oliver agreed. It was soft, doing this; lying in a comfortable bed that smelled of clean sheets, knowing that they had no responsibilities other than this. They could play John and Yoko for a bit, only get up to go the loo or collect room service from the door. It made Felix feel younger, somehow, kissing for the joy of it rather than what it might lead to. It was like when he'd get off with a girl at a house party in his youth, no expectation of anything other than getting his tongue in someone else's mouth for a bit. Once he'd started shagging recreationally, it had been as if snogging had lost a bit of the spark. It didn't feel as erotic; he couldn't almost spunk in his boxers just from swapping spit with someone… Until Oliver came back and sent him head over heels.
Of course, this wasn't a house party and Felix wasn’t limited to just kissing, but it felt like anything this led up to would be slow. Oliver couldn't even really get properly close to him, he was so careful. Felix, of course, had never been the type of person to really pay attention to things like piercing aftercare; he would wing it, the way he did everything, but Ollie's caution… It made him feel so loved. So small and precious and safe, treasured.
Oliver had tried to kill him once, and that drove Felix wild, but now Ollie wanted to protect him. Put himself between Felix and the world, Felix and consequences, Felix and himself… And Felix wanted to do the same, but for Ollie. He would keep Oliver’s nightmares at bay, do battle with any hint of self-deprecation, hold him tight and demand the world love Oliver as much as Felix did. His Oliver, who had crept a hand around the back of Felix's neck to hold him so gently. His Oliver, who made soft little sounds as his mouth opened against Felix's. Who never held back, even if their lips weren't lining up the normal way, because it was about trying to fill up on each other. It always was. It always would be.
He wasn’t surprised when the hand on his stomach slid lower. Felix had slept in boxer briefs and a t-shirt- he'd sort of assumed he'd sleep naked, but the piercings meant that wasn't happening- and he'd been expecting Ollie to venture beneath the waistband and give his cock a little attention. He hadn't the night before, after all, and that had been another thing Felix had missed. When Oliver normally fucked him from behind, he'd use the momentum to make Felix fuck his fist at the same time, turning him into a quivering mess. Felix liked to watch Oliver wank himself off; there wasn't anything quite as hot as watching him try to get himself off while Felix was doing his very best to ruin Ollie's coordination. Making Felix cum all over the window, hands-free, was an achievement… But he liked having his dick touched, obviously, so why not catch up on that too.
Except Ollie hadn't gotten hold of his dick. Nope, he'd gone lower, and Felix was unsure. Not scared, no, more… He wasn’t sure what exactly he was going to get out of this. Oliver was being gentle, at least, less groping than just holding, and Felix tried to relax. Ollie had balls, he wasn’t about to start manhandling them. Or, well, woman handling them, given Felix's past experiences.
“That alright, Felix?” Ollie drew back, just a little, giving Felix a little squeeze that…
“Yeah. That's… That's good, actually.” Was it odd that this felt oddly secure? Felix exhaled, slowly, and Ollie grinned at him. “Alright, Professor Sex-Expert, no need to get smug about it. Have at ‘em.”
He turned his head away, pretending to be haughty… But even he had held his balls before. He just didn't habitually… Oliver sat up, his hand leaving the confines of Felix's underwear as he shrugged the dressing gown off. Felix pretended to close his eyes, watching as Oliver stretched, before thumbs slid under his waistband and pushed his boxers down. His prick bounced up like a jack-in-the-box, and Oliver left them midway down his thighs, restricting his movement again. First the cuffs, now this? Ollie certainly seemed to enjoy having Felix at his mercy.
He shut his eyes, just for a moment, feeling Oliver's weight shift from beside him, heading down the bed to settle over his legs. The urge to open his mouth and issue some sort of challenge was overwhelming, but Felix suppressed that. He'd learned that lesson last night, and he really, really wanted a hand-job, although with where Ollie was it seemed a blowie was more…
“Wha…?” He had to sit up, the act dropped, because that was a tongue on his bollocks and fuck. It had taken him by surprise; he'd barely even felt Oliver grab his dick he was so startled by the sudden escalation. Oliver looked up at him, peering past Sir Catton.
“That alright, Felix?”
All Felix could do was nod, mutely, watching Oliver's hand move, Oliver’s head lower again, and why hadn't they done this before? Ollie was being so gentle, a delicacy to him that would have been teasing on his cock. Here, it was overwhelming, and it had Felix slumping back to his pillow with a groan, reaching down blindly to find Oliver's shoulder. “Fuck… Fucking hell, Oll… Oliver Catton, you're magic…”
That made the steady strokes of Oliver's hand slowly speed up, Felix pushing his hips forward, eyes clamping closed. It had to be just… Just that he didn't do much with them, his bollocks were all touch-starved and so… So of course it had him loud, head tipping back, fingers digging into Oliver's shoulder. It wasn't fucking fair, being turned into a wreck like this, and especially when he could have been doing this for years.
Then it wasn't just Oliver's tongue, it was his whole mouth, Felix could feel his teeth- not biting, they were just there- and the wet heat and gentle, gentle suction and… Oliver hummed, Felix's balls fucking vibrated, and he had to cling to the sheets. His legs tried to bend, but Oliver held them in place, and the rest of him trembled as he groaned and arched and came so abruptly it seemed… Impersonal, somehow, spurting into Oliver's hand and across his own stomach.
“Wha… Whadda fuck… ” Felix was gasping, watching wide-eyed as Oliver sat up, held up a finger, then stuck out his tongue. Felix felt a sudden terror at what was next? Oliver was- probably- going to do another Mindblowing Sex Thing and Felix was going to pass out or die or…
“Juh… Juhssa seh. Hair ih m'mouh.”
It took Felix a moment to understand, before he let himself flop back, eyes closed and arms spread wide. He sighed out a breath, taking just a moment before the need to clean up became impossible to ignore. “That's… Holy shit. Now that's why I have to marry you.”
“And you love me.”
“And I love you.”