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“You can’t bail on me now, Fjord! I already have my makeup on!” Jester calls from the general direction of her bedroom.
She’s right. Fjord knows he’ll have a good time once he’s there, but Jester has dragged him to so many clubs this month he’s a little burnt out from it all.
“One more gay club isn’t gonna get me a boyfriend, Jessie” he told her, frustrated.
“This isn’t, like, a club club, Fjord! It’s a bar, and there’s a guy playing music! And not like a dj plays music, like he plays music, you know? Beau told me this guy is supposed to be really good, and you trust Beau, right?” she had asked him.
Yeah, Fjord thinks. If Beau thinks this guy is good, why should he be worried?
And now he’s standing in the living room, picking at his tusks, wearing black jeans and a plain white shirt, waiting for Jester to come down so they can go.
“Who says I’m bailing? You’re the one holding us up little missie” he teases.
Jester comes down the stairs in a frilly pink get-up. Lots of bows, long white gloves covering her arms, kitten heels, and her bright Barbie pink purse hangs from her shoulders.
“You ready to go?” she pipes up at him, smiling bright and holding out one hand expectantly for his arm. She still lets him act like a gentleman for her, now that all the tension between them is gone.
Fjord’s already walking to the door. “Seems a bit done-up if it’s just a bar, like you say” Fjord comments.
Jester pouts at him, “well at least I got done-up! I’m serving up enough looks for us both” she huffs lightly.
Lucky for Jester, the walk to the bar isn’t too bad. It’s only a couple blocks from their apartment, so at the end of the night she won’t have to take her heels off. She’ll probably still ask Fjord to carry her home, despite knowing full-well she’s the stronger of the two of them.
If she asks nice enough, he might carry her piggy-back anyway.
When they enter, the bar is noticeably more busy than usual, but Fjord wouldn’t call it packed. All the tables are taken, at least, so Fjord guides Jester to the bar where, thankfully, there are two unoccupied stools.
Beau’s working tonight, and she’s excited to see Fjord and Jester. She reaches under the bar and opens a jug of milk that she must have bought specifically for Jester.
“You want me to warm this up for you, Jessie?” She asks, winking when she calls Jester by her nickname.
“Not tonight, Beau, but thank you” she replies, giggling.
“The usual for me. Thanks Beau” he requests, only rolling his eyes a little bit at the girls’ flirting.
Fjord’s “usual” is the cheapest whiskey they have in a glass with a bit of ice.
“Comin’ right up, Cap’n” she responds, sliding a decent-sized tumbler with two ice cubes towards him. She turns her back to him and he takes the opportunity to look around the room.
There’s a couple people who look like they’re regulars at the bar. There’s an old dwarf man, a middle-aged human woman, and a hardened half-elf man. They’re not dressed up, and they’re nursing tall beers. Probably expecting to pass the night alone, Fjord guesses.
There’s couples and trios here and there chatting away, waiting for the band to set-up. A couple loners grab a beer and sit at the bar, also facing towards where the band is setting up.
Speaking of.
There’s a tall, pale woman with black hair that falls into all sorts of braids, loose around her shoulders. Her hair turns white at the ends, Fjord notes. There’s an excited goblin girl drinking out of a flask of her own, and it’s got to be enchanted. You can’t take five whole gulps out of a regular flask that many times and not have it come back empty. There’s a purple tiefling wearing...absolutely hideous tights and a pink coat with every inch embroidered. He has jewelry in his horns and when he catches Fjord looking, he flashes a flirty grin.
Fjord flushes and turns back towards his drink, now full. Jester, who is patiently sipping her milk, is talking to Beau while she serves the other customers.
“I love the horn jewelry on the tiefling, I should ask him where he gets his jewelry!” she babbles.
Beau’s smiling, and it’s different from the smiles Fjord usually sees on her when she talks to Jester.
He’ll have to ask her about that later.
“It’s almost eight o’clock, Beau! When is the singer gonna get here! When’s it gonna start!” Jester is impatient, rocking back and forth on her stool a bit.
“He’s been here for a while, Jes. He’s probably doing...musician...stuff. Vocal warm-ups. That shit. And nobody starts exactly on time for these kinds of things, you know?” Beau soothes Jester and places a hand on hers.
Oh, he’ll definitely have to ask about that later.
“Yeah, Jessie. Bar in the middle of nowhere, and it’s, what” Fjord looks at the flyer posted behind the bar again “it’s their last show. They’re probably looking to get it over with, get a drink, and convince someone to let em crash on their couch” he says, sourly.
Jester’s eyebrows fly up and Fjord knows he’s already lost.
“You knooooow, Fjoooord. It could be our couch that they crash on. Orrrr, if you’re lucky, your b-”
“ALL right all right that’s enough” Fjord huffs, blushing and taking another sip of his drink.
Right when the clock at the bar strikes 8, the door to the back flies open. A man stands there, decent height but still a good deal shorter than Fjord. Red hair hides his face, but he’s human. Red and black flannel, blue scarf, and black skinny jeans. Sneakers that are beat to absolute shit on his feet.
He adjusts the microphone so it’s...a good deal lower than Fjord would have expected. It makes sense when he pulls a stool over, and the tiefling hands him an electric bass-guitar.
Once he’s gotten himself situated, he takes a deep breath. He looks like he’s trying to force himself to start playing, but something’s holding him back.
Fjord nearly jumps out of his skin when the goblin girl jumps up from behind the drums and screeches into the keyboardist’s mic “HELLO, TROSTENWALD! WE ARE ‘GASTLY TO LOOK AT.’” The room chuckles awkwardly. The keyboardist, the tall pale woman, takes her mic back and tells the goblin to sit back down.
Introductions out of the way, the singer looks up, finally. The lights in the bar are a pale blue that play beautifully off of his skin.
With a shaking hand, he grabs the microphone.
“Ah...hallo, everyone” a Zemnian accent, thicker than Fjord expected.
He looks around the room, sits up a little taller, and looks right at Fjord.
His eyes widen minutely. For the first time since he’s entered the room, he calms. Fjord even thinks he sees a smile hidden in his features.
“This first song is for the big guy at the corner of the bar.”
Fjord chokes on his whiskey. The purple tiefling smiles wide and begins playing.
Jester is thumping his back, reminding him to breathe while whispering “that’s you!!! That’s you Fjord!!!!” into his ear.
From the first few chords, Fjord expected the song to be light. Then the singer snaps his fingers on-beat and the rest of the band brings the mood to something heavy and sultry.
The singer’s hands deftly play the bass as he starts singing.
Wildmother help him, his voice is beautiful. His accent has all but disappeared. His voice is lilting and soulful.
Fjord doesn’t know where to look, but he can’t look anywhere else. His hands as he plays. His lips as he sings. He looks at his eyes but the second they make eye contact the singer’s eyes close as he continues singing and playing.
“My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand
It's how I know now that you understand”
Fjord’s chest is tight. For a beat, the only two people in the world are him and this singer.
“There's no plan, there's no race to be run”
This song is touching a tender, aching piece of his soul.
He’s been working so, so hard. Coming out to his shitty old roommates, getting kicked out, trying to find a new city, or even a new town to work and live in. He found Jester. He found Beau.
He was happy to have friends like these. Friends he could be his whole self around. They supported him, they urged him to live his life big and loud.
The keyboardist leans towards her mic and offers background vocals for the chorus.
“There's no plan, there's no kingdom to come
But I'll be your man if you got love to get done”
The singer had said this song was for him. Maybe the singer was gay too. There’d be no reason to lie about that to get a rise out of an audience this small. Instead of pushing and pushing and pushing like Jester was wont to do, this singer was urging him to relax and enjoy the moment--enjoy it with him, even.
Jester whoops next to him and the singer smiles fondly. It takes a second for Fjord to realise he’d just said “blue bird,” one of Jester’s many, many nicknames.
But this smile is different from the one he’d offered Fjord. It’s amused, but his eyes are still focused in the middle-distance. He’d heard the whoop, but paid no mind to where it was from.
The song continues. They come back to the chorus and Fjord feels himself floating with the music. The next time the singer cries “ I'll be your man” he opens his eyes and locks them with Fjords.
When the song finishes, Fjord is stunned into silence with it. When his mind returns to him, it is to Jester smacking his arm to get his attention. He shakes out of his fugue state and starts applauding. A little too loud, maybe, but it makes the singer smile again. A shy smile, not for show.
Fjord takes a sip of his drink again, abandoned throughout the whole song.
“Ah...my name is Caleb, everyone. On keyboard we have Yasha, on drums we have Nott the Brave, and on guitar we have Mollymauk-”
The purple tiefling steals the mic from Caleb “Molly to my friends” and winks towards one of the tables.
Caleb rolls his eyes and takes the microphone back.
Caleb. Caleb. Caleb.
“Sooooo, what do you think so far, Fjord?” Jester asks in his ear while they set up for their next song. He coughs and turns to look at her, hand on his neck.
She has a knowing smile on her face before he even answers her.
“Well...I liked it! I liked that first song a lot. I’d like..I mean, I wouldn’t mind staying for the whole set if you’re up for it” he finishes shyly.
He still can’t make himself outright ask for what he wants.
Jester’s smile softens, able to read him after so much time spent living together.
“You know what? I want to stay the whole time. That’s okay with you, Fjord?”
Fjord could cry with relief.
“That’s okay” he smiles towards her.
He hears someone clear their throat and he looks back towards the stage. The singer-- Caleb-- starts playing, but where there had been a serene smile in the last song, there is a focused frown.
Fjord hears a chuckle from behind him, and he turns to see Beau concealing a grin. She forces as neutral a face as she can when she realizes she’s been caught and motions for him to get closer to her. He leans over the bar and continues watching as Beau whispers into his ear:
“He’s 100% jealous of you and Jester, man.”
Fjord has to swallow the laugh that almost made its way out of him. It would be incredibly rude to laugh out loud while they’re still playing.
He’d call it ridiculous, but Beau’s instincts have never been wrong when it comes to these things.
The next time the singer looks his way, Fjord winks back. Fjord thinks he hears a single bass note flop, but he must have imagined it. The shy smile is back on Caleb’s face. Fjord keeps smiling with him.
The night goes on, and in each song Fjord is immersed. Swimming in a pool of auditory sensations. At the bottom is this singer, calling out to him. He could drown in it.
Then again, he’s always been a really good swimmer. He can take care of them both.
Fjord’s so involved in the music that he realizes he only had one drink the whole night. He turns to give Beau a huge tip but she won’t accept it, coming around the front of the bar to throw her arm around Jester’s shoulders.
Definitely, definitely gonna talk to her about that at some point.
Not now, though, because the last song of the night is ending and he’s applauding loudly, whistling towards the band.
Mollymauk peels away from the band and chats up the table he’d been shamelessly flirting with all night. Caleb focuses on packing up his guitar and microphone.
“I love your dress!” he hears to his right. He looks, and the goblin drummer, Nott, is talking to Jester. Jester giggles and steps aside so the goblin can take the stool and they can be closer in height.
“Thank you! I love all the bows on it especially!” She responds. Beau blushes but doesn’t say anything. The keyboardist, Yasha, asks Beau for a beer and Beau unwraps herself from Jester and gets back behind the bar.
He’s all alone, then.
Fjord throws back whatever is at the bottom of his glass and walks over to Caleb.
“What’s your poison?” he asks, going for smooth.
Caleb jumps half-way out of his skin when he realizes he’s being talked to.
He relaxes somewhat when he turns and sees it’s Fjord, but he’s still on edge.
“Eh...sorry?” shy confusion is written all over his features.
Fjord squares his shoulders, gathers his confidence from a second ago, and tries again.
“What’s your poison? I wanna buy you a round after that amazing set” and he flashes a smile.
“I tend to just get whatever liquor is cheapest. Fancy, I know” he jokes, but it comes across as self-deprecating.
Well, that won’t do at all.
“That just so happens to be my beverage of choice, and I have a little pull around here” he says with a wink. He turns over his shoulder to yell at Beau: “two more of my usual, Beau!”
“Aye-aye!” and Beau salutes, the hand melting off her face to turn into a middle finger.
He laughs, cause he deserved that. Luckily, though, Caleb is also chuckling.
“What’s the story there, captain?” and oh, that’s much sexier when it’s a beautiful man saying it instead of Beau. His accent makes him pronounce the T all the way, and the smile it comes with makes Fjord’s stomach go gooey.
Fjord sits back down at the bar, two glasses of whiskey waiting for him. He tells Caleb about a certain drunken night that ended with Fjord passed out drunk in a bath-tub cradling a box of Captain Crunch. He tells the follow-up story of the time Beau did it, and as such was dubbed his first-mate. Jester, of course, wanted “whatever the job title is for manning the poop deck” and he mimics her accent as best as he can. The whole time Caleb is laughing a sweet, quiet laugh.
“I think that would technically be a boatswain” Caleb supplies. Jester giggles delightedly.
“She would probably change her name tag to say ‘buttswain’ though” Beau laughs, her arm mysteriously re-placed around Jester’s shoulders. Jester laughs even harder and holds Beau tighter.
“How drunk is she? What was she drinking all night, White Xorhassians?” Caleb asks.
“White Xorhassian, hold the vodka and liquer” Beau replies.
“...that would just be milk, though” Caleb responds, confused.
“Correct! You win, Caa-leb!” Jester replies excitedly, booping him on the nose.
Caleb leans in closer to Fjord and says “I’m not sure if I love her energy or hate it. She’d get along really well with Nott, though.”
Fjord smiles. “They already have been if I’m not mistaken.”
They sit in a comfortable silence, watching Jester tell Nott more stories, most of them made up but Fjord isn’t going to step in and ruin the fun.
“All right guys, I gotta lock up so I don’t lose my job. Where did your purple guitarist go” Beau grumbles, wiping down the counter and cashing out.
“Oh, he left over an hour ago with that couple. I’m sure he’ll text in the morning where he is and where we can pick him up” Yasha replies.
Over an hour. Man, this Caleb guy is that easy to talk to and spend time with.
“Do you guys have a place to stay in town?” Fjord asks, since now seems to be the appropriate moment to do so.
Yasha, Caleb, and Nott all shrug at each other.
“We usually just pile into the van to sleep after shows” Yasha shrugs again.
“Cheaper that way” Caleb says simply.
Fjord frowns, but before he can offer up their couch Jester jumps in, mischief hidden in her dimples.
“I’m spending the night with Beau tonight so you can stay in my room! The bed is really really big and I bet it’s comfier than your van” she tosses the offer like she’s bragging, winking at Beau and Beau just goes along with it.
“You are?” Fjord asks, because since when had that been the plan. Jester just glares at him like he’s an idiot, but it’s behind Caleb’s back so he doesn’t see it.
“So I take it you two are...roommates?” Caleb tests, looking back and forth between Fjord and where Beau’s arm rests around Jester. He relaxes a little looking at Beau, but tenses when he turns back to Fjord.
“Yep, best friends who live together. Between her room and the couch you all should have plenty of space to crash for the evening” he offers more politely, resolutely ignoring the way Jester’s eyebrows dance above her eyes.
The band glance at each other and come to a group decision.
“As long as you have a place to park the van where it won’t get a ticket, that sounds fine by us” Yasha answers for the group, calm as she’s been all night.
“WOO!” Nott pumps her fist in the air and hops off the stool, leading the way out of the bar. Yasha picks up the amp and the keyboard.
“Need a hand with one of the guitars?” Fjord offers.
“Please. One I can carry by myself. Two, well...Molly usually knows to put his back in the van before taking off for a night of debauchery” Caleb sounds a little bitter, but thankful for Fjord’s help. He puts on a coat over his flannel, long and brown, and hands one of the guitar cases to Fjord.
Fjord can’t help but notice it’s the bass guitar case he’s been handed.
Jester waves the group off. She squeezes Fjord tight, and whispers “good luuuuck. I expect deeeetails” in his ear.
Fjord sighs, resigned to play along. Just for now. “Only if you give me details about you and Beau when you come home.”
Jester pouts before giggling and kissing him on the cheek. “Deal!”
She skips back to Beau, who simply salutes him again, before taking Jester’s offered elbow and they--theoretically--walk back to her apartment.
Fjord helps the gang load into the van, before getting in the van himself. Caleb joins him in the back. Nott offers to drive, sitting in the drivers seat. Yasha manhandles her into the passenger seat before taking the wheel herself.
“Hold on, back there. Don’t break your nose falling on some of the equipment” Yasha delivers it so flatly that Fjord’s not sure if it was supposed to be a warning or a joke.
Fjord gives Yasha his address so he doesn’t have to play navigator from the back of the cluttered van.
He and caleb sit across from each other, bracing for the ride without seatbelts.
Fjord barely feels the buzz of the whiskey anymore, but he decides he feels it enough to be a little playful.
He kicks one of Caleb’s feet where they’re mingling in the space between the two of them.
Caleb, shocked, looks up to look at Fjord. Amusement replaces confusion as he kicks back, slightly less gently.
Fjord smiles even harder but looks back towards the front. Just to make sure they’re going in the right direction of his house. They’re probably not kidnapping me at this point he thinks to himself, but there’s nothing lost in being a little careful.
They get to Fjord and Jester’s apartment and Fjord gets out first. He unlocks the front door, then opens the garage so they can pull the van all the way inside.
“I just don’t want some punk kids ruining your van, you know?” he offers by way of explanation.
“I appreciate it, Captain, but we are a bunch of punk kids” Caleb replies.
“You know, you don’t have to call me ‘captain’” Fjord says with a laugh while Yasha pulls into the garage without issue.
Caleb laughs next to him.
“Then what do I call you? You never told me your name” Caleb says, smiling.
Oh.
Idiot.
Fjord looks down and puts a hand on his neck again. “Fjord. My name is Fjord” he supplies sheepishly.
“Fjord. A good name” Caleb says kindly.
Maybe, if Fjord is lucky, this guy thinks things like ‘forgetting to tell the guy you’ve been flirting with all night your name’ are endearing.
Fjord and Jester’s house is very simple. It’s a short lease while they’re looking for work, so they didn’t need fancy. They each have their own room and bathroom, and one big living room with a kitchen open to the space.
“Can I offer you guys some water or anything?” Fjord asks, trying to be a good host.
“If you have bacon I’ll always take that!” Nott says, but she’s yawning while she says it.
“I think we’ll head to bed. Thank you, again, for offering your space to us for the night. It was very generous of you” Yasha thanks, bowing her head a little before guiding Nott into Jester’s room.
“I will be a moment, I would like some water” Caleb requests.
Easily done.
Fjord gets himself a glass as well and comes back to hand one to Caleb. Caleb has taken off his coat and hung it by the door, and is just now in the process of unwinding his scarf.
Fjord’s brain shuts off once he sees Caleb’s neck for the first time all night. I want to kiss that neck and make him gasp my name the horny part of his brain unhelpfully supplies.
Caleb is already taking a glass from him and Fjord is shocked back to reality.
“Yeah, uh. Water. There you go” He stumbles. Real smooth, Fjord.
Caleb smiles and only takes one sip before setting it down on the coffee table.
“The water was an excuse to not follow them to bed” Caleb whispers, chuckling softly.
“Oh? And...and...and why wouldn’t you want to do that?’ Fjord barely makes it through the question. He takes a sip of water so that he doesn’t say anything stupid. He’s refused to let himself be hopeful all night. Sure, he was flirting, he was trying for smooth, but he didn’t offer up his place in exchange for sex. Him and Jester were just... being friendly to a really good, really broke indie band rolling through their nowhere town.
Before answering his question, Caleb gently pulls at his arm to get him to set the glass down.
“I think we are old enough that we don’t have to play games to ask for what we want, ja?”
Fjord swallows, setting his glass down as instructed.
“And...what do you want?” Fjord won’t let himself believe this is happening. Relatively alone with an attractive man, in his house. This isn’t real. Caleb’s just gonna thank him for offering his place and take the couch, or join his other band-mates in Jester’s room, or--
“I want the man I gave the first song of the night to” Caleb says, his voice pitched low, eyelids heavy and he’s closed the foot and a half distance between them.
Fjord gasps. He lifts his right hand, body reaching out to Caleb before his mind catches up. He doesn’t know what to do with it, though, so it just floats next to the two of them.
Caleb takes Fjord’s offered hand and places it on his waist. Fjord holds his breath as he takes Fjord’s other hand and places it on the back of his head.
“Oh” Fjord breathes out. One second. Two. And then he leans forward and places his lips to Caleb’s.
Once their lips touch, it’s easy for Fjord to feel how much Caleb was holding back. Waiting for me, whatever I was comfortable with. Now, Caleb surges into the kiss, onto his toes to get to a better height to kiss him from. Fjord’s brain catches up and he’s kissing back full-force, walking them backwards to the door of his room.
He misses by a few inches, the doorframe nailing his spine. He looses a pained grunt into the kiss and Caleb makes a sympathetic noise before chuckling. He can’t even get a full “are you all right” out before Fjord is back on him, door to his room open and he’s pulling Caleb inside, shutting the door behind them.
His shoes are kicked off immediately, Caleb following suit. Fjord takes off the flannel over-shirt Caleb is wearing, but pauses there.
“I would like all of my clothes off and you touching me everywhere. What would you like?” Caleb asks, breathless. As if it’s that simple.
Then again, he’s been very direct so far.
Maybe, with him, it is.
“I...would like you to touch me everywhere, but. But keep my shirt on, please” Fjord is still shy about the scars on his back. A bad night at work. He nearly died. They don’t feel too bad to the touch, but they look--
“Okay.” Caleb doesn’t give him time to be self-conscious about the boundary. Fjord smiles with relief as he bends down to kiss Caleb’s neck.
Caleb groans while he’s unbuttoning Fjord’s jeans. In one move he’s pulling away from Fjord’s mouth, dropping his pants and underwear to the floor, and gesturing for Fjord to get on the bed. Fjord is at a loss to do anything but obey. Caleb pulls his t-shirt off in one motion and less-than-gracefully kicks off his own jeans and underwear as well.
“Get back here” Fjord says with a smile, unashamed of the grabby-hands he sends Caleb’s way.
Caleb chuckles and climbs over Fjord, sitting on his legs. He’s sliding his hands over the muscles hidden by Fjord’s shirt. Hands, over his chest, down his arms, to his abs, then lower still.
He kisses Fjord slow, still not touching him without some sort of go-ahead.
“Please. Please touch me” Fjord begs with a breath.
Caleb smiles wide and happily fulfills the request.
Dextrous, clever, bass-player’s hands drive Fjord insane. He’s whining into the kiss and rocking with the rhythm Caleb sets. This man is taking his breath away. He pulls away from the kiss to look down at Fjord’s face.
“Beautiful. You’re absolutely beautiful, Fjord. Look at you.”
Fjord laughs, privately amused.
“What’s so funny? Afraid of the truth?” And, hold on.
Caleb’s face has lost most of its humor. An earnest emotion takes up most of the space where it was.
Not prying where he shouldn’t, but giving the opportunity to say something is wrong.
“Not...not afraid. Just. With you on top of me it felt ironic, who was calling whom beautiful” Fjord replies, a breath between every phrase.
Caleb smiles again, blushes deeper, and kisses Fjord some more. It’s slow, not rushed. Fjord feels pleasure building in his stomach but it’s a slow build.
He’s not in a rush to get anything over with.
Fjord sits up on his elbows, takes Caleb’s hand from where it is on him and lifts it, kissing the wrist. Then his shoulder, then his neck, then his chest, then his stomach. Caleb breath is hitching with each kiss. Fjord barely has to pause when he moves to go lower, looking up and seeing Caleb already nodding furiously.
Caleb’s voice is beautiful when he’s singing for Fjord.
Caleb’s voice is even more beautiful when he’s singing because of Fjord.
“Fjord…Fjord... Fjord ” Caleb sounds like he’s saying Fjord’s name over and over on purpose. To make up for the hours he lost because Fjord forgot to give it to him. Like it’s precious, and had to be earned, and he’s proud to have earned it.
Caleb’s fingers are twisted in the sheets on his bed and Fjord takes one of his hands and places it on his head. Caleb grabs on tight now that he’s been given permission to. He holds, but he isn’t pulling any.
Fjord pulls up and mouths at him a bit.
“You can pull, if you like” his voice is rough, and he’s quietly thankful for this moment he’s given himself to swallow some spit and just press with his lips.
“Con...consider it under advisement” Caleb huffs. He’s barely keeping it together now and when he looks Fjord in the eye again he looks wrecked.
Fjord smiles proudly and gets back to work.
This time, Caleb holds on tight, but where Fjord had sort of been all over the place, moving as he pleased, Caleb pulled so that Fjord moved to a rhythm.
He’s a musician. Of course he likes a steady rhythm.
Fjord can’t smile with the realization, but he can work more earnestly.
After a while, Caleb is practically shivering, he’s so close.
“F-Fjord, I am close. What w...would you prefer? Spit or swallow?”
In lieu of replying, Fjord puts one of his own hands on the top of his head, over back of Caleb’s, and pushes himself down as far as he can go.
“Oh, oh, okay, okay, okay, o kay, Fjord, Fjord, Fjord-!!”
It’s hot, and it’s salty, but Fjord is happy and proud. You did that. You made him feel that good.
It makes him twitch with pleasure, and Caleb is reaching for him again. He kisses Fjord’s neck and whispers in his ear “would you like help with that?”
Another straight-forward question. It’s so easy, when it’s like this. It’s never been this easy , and Fjord is loving every second.
“Yes” he replies softly, a smile on his lips and his voice still gravelly.
“Aye-aye” he responds and Fjord can’t help but laugh.
Caleb continues stroking him like before and Fjord goes back to kissing his neck. It’s faster than before, but there’s still a definite rhythm. If Fjord had any brain left he’d try to count it.
As it is, though, he’s shaking with pleasure, and he’s so, so close now. He’s moaning into Caleb’s neck, and Caleb’s mouth is at his ear.
“What do you need?” simple. So very simple.
“B...bite me. Please, please, please” and he’s saying it over and over into Caleb’s neck. He’s thrusting into Caleb’s hand and shivers when he feels Caleb’s other hand moving Fjord’s t-shirt out of the way so he can bite into Fjord’s traps, hard.
Fjord gasps, toppling over the edge. He feels so good. He’s never felt this good. He’s got his open mouth pressed against Caleb’s neck as he gasps for air, shaking through it. He realizes his tusks might leave a mark if he presses with them for too long, so he pulls away to go back to kissing Caleb’s neck. Caleb turns his head and kisses him full on the mouth. Sweet. So very sweet. Fjord moans into the kiss and bats Caleb’s hand away from him. Caleb chuckles and they just kiss for a while.
The tension is gone now. Now they have all the time in the world to just feel. Feel lips, feel tongue, feel teeth, feel smiles.
After several long minutes, Caleb moves to get up.
Fjord freezes.
Not everyone’s a cuddler like you. Don’t ask for too much.
But then Caleb’s back with toilet paper from the bathroom, cleaning up where he spilled on Caleb’s stomach and the sheets.
“It’s not perfect, but it makes laundry easier, ja?” He jokes.
Fjord relaxes, throwing one arm over his head and going for casual.
Caleb yawns and stretches, much more relaxed than Fjord’s seen him all night.
Try things his way, maybe it won’t come off as weird if you pretend it was never weird at all.
“Where would you prefer to sleep? In bed with me or on the couch in the living room?” Fjord asks, hoping to gods it comes across as neutral as Fjord is trying to make it sound.
Caleb pauses, confused, but then relaxes in understanding.
“I was hoping to share the bed with you, but if you would prefer I sleep out there then that’s okay too” there’s something there. Something that says he wasn’t expecting to get kicked out. Something hurt.
Once he sees it, Fjord scrambles to make it go away as fast as possible.
“No! No, I mean. I was hoping you’d want to stay as well but thought I’d keep up with the uh. Asking for preferences. Thing.”
It’s clumsy, but it puts the relaxed smile back on Caleb’s face anyway. He crawls back into the still-warm bed, lying next to Fjord.
Oddly enough, even though Fjord is physically bigger, Caleb puts his arm around Fjord and his fingers tap a rhythm on his stomach. It makes Fjord smile, and he turns away but scoots back.
Fjord doesn’t know if he’s ever been the little spoon in his life. It’s exciting and stupid all at once.
He grabs the hand where it is on his stomach, pulls it up, and kisses it.
“Good night, Caleb” and puts it back down around his waist.
There’s a kiss at the back of his neck that makes him squirm a little.
“Good night, Fjord.”
After a minute, Fjord is shivering from the chill air on his sweaty skin. There’s a chuckle again as Fjord blindly reaches over the edge of the bed for the blanket, handing it to caleb over his hip so he can tuck them both in.
Another kiss, this one to the back of his head.
“Gute nacht.”