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He had never deserved the touch of someone so kind, but now Essek has it in spades. Sometimes– most of the time– he still cannot believe it, cannot believe the dedication and care that comes from the touch of hands and romantic words. Quiet declarations of love as hands stroke down his body, calloused fingers seeking out the most sensitive parts of him to tweak and touch and tease. Caleb above him, all affection and adoration as he looks down at Essek with a blush on his cheeks and a smile on his lips. Saying Essek’s name that way, low and breathless and hot, as he kisses Essek’s mouth and bites at his ear and fucks into him so steadily.
Steady.
And there are fingers in his hair, the points of sharpened nails dragging against his scalp. The curtain of purple hair falling into his face when Mollymauk leans over to kiss him in the interim, joyous and coy and equally adoring. He holds Essek’s head in his lap and glides a hand along his chest, palming over a nipple as he whispers praise and encouragement about how he looks, how he tastes, how beautiful the two of them are like this. A tail slipping between Essek’s legs and curling along his poor, neglected cock–
He comes awake when he– comes– gasping into the darkness of their bedroom. Right. A dream. He isn’t– Light. For a second, he has to evaluate, but… no, he hasn’t. Ejaculated in his sleep. He can’t even remember the last time he’d done that. For better or worse, he’s still hard and aching in his pajamas, and his heart still pounds from the memory of the dream.
Luxon, that does not happen often.
Mollymauk murmurs against his side, patting Essek’s arm. His heart is still pounding. His skin is buzzing. “Jus’ a nightmare, love,” Molly murmurs, voice thick with sleep. “Just a nightmare?” He cracks an eye open, and nudges his head against Essek’s temple. Caleb must already be gone for work.
Essek lets out a breath he wasn’t aware of holding, and scrubs his hands against his face. What a dream. What a way to wake up. He can honestly count on less than both hands how many times he’s had dreams like that in all of his years. Spending a majority of your life uninterested in sex tended to leave your imagination freed up for other things, and, well… he’d never slept so much as he has in the past couple years of his life.
“Cups?” Mollymauk is looking at him more intently now, a little more aware, and Essek realizes he hadn’t answered his question. A nightmare? No.
“The opposite, in fact,” he says, and he blurts it so suddenly that he has no time for his tired brain to filter his mouth before it’s already gone and out there. He already feels flush, but it seems to deepen, in the instant where Molly is quiet for just a moment.
Then he pulls back a little, looking at Essek more clearly. “Naughty dreams?” he guesses, and, Light, Essek wants to– dissolve through the mattress and be swallowed up by the ground. “Essek,” Molly says, low and amused while somehow still sounding half asleep. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cringe, really. He scrubs his hands against his face again, and continues, “me neither, if I’m being honest. I’m sorry, Molly. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“I mean, better your libido than bad dreams,” and Essek doesn’t– in the moment, he doesn’t rationalize their proximity, doesn’t realize any shifting is going to make the predicament even more of an obvious thing. He doesn’t realize until too late that he and Molly moving in tandem to each other brushes the tiefling’s thigh against his– ah, and he barely swallows a half strangled noise trying to claw its way up his throat, more desperate and aching than he can remember being in a long while. He tenses and Molly freezes on the spot, a measure of prevention against something they both know is an accident, but– “Oh, shite,” Mollymauk murmurs.
Essek feels the rest of his body blush hot. “Sorry,” he repeats, and nudges Molly’s leg away with a bare foot. “Erm–”
“I am literally bothered not at all,” Molly interrupts, but does move so his thigh isn’t against Essek’s prick. “‘m jealous, a little. I think I was having boring dreams. Yours seem better. You should tell me about them,” he prompts, eyes twinkling in the darkness of the room.
“I would, uh.” They are already filtering away. He can barely remember, even now. Hazy things, brought on by anything he and Caleb and Mollymauk did when they worked together in bed. Good things. “Really rather not, Molly.” He takes a deep breath. “If it’s all the same.”
“Fair enough.” He rests his head back on the pillow, and watches Essek’s face for a moment. Then, because Mollymauk Tealeaf is physically incapable of not dropping bombshells, even at this time of the morning, he continues softly, “but didja wanna get off?”
Essek feels himself freeze again, feeling– caught, in all senses. Caught in an inopportune moment, caught in bed with Mollymauk after a sex dream, with the all consuming urge to blurt yes, yes, what do you think?
“This isn’t an obligation,” Molly continues softly. His voice is so soft, like he thinks dream Molly and Caleb’s had been not three minutes ago. “This isn’t even necessarily an offer. It could be. But, if you wanna touch yourself a little? I’m still not gonna mind.”
His head is spinning. Why had his dreams felt so much more concrete? Why is he more stable in his imagination? Ah, right, because he is easily embarrassed and lacking in confidence in reality–
“No expectation, love,” Molly continues. “Same as always. But, you know, we were discussing exploring boundaries without actually fucking, and, well, the idea of you touching yourself next to me is really hot,” he admits.
For Luxon’s sake. Mollymauk had suggested some… baby steps, in their independent, intimate relationship (a relationship that is still horribly an unconsummated thing, after that one disastrous attempt at sex) but those steps had never particularly come up outside of Caleb being in the bedroom with them, and Essek had thought about it very little in the following months. It was easier to not worry about the inevitable failure that may come with the attempt. The humiliation of having to say no again, tempered by the humiliation of wanting to say yes in the first place.
He trusts Mollymauk. He does. It’s just… embarrassing, he thinks pathetically, and hides his face in his hands. He is still not good at being vulnerable. He still has such a hard time letting go.
“C’mon, love, don’t hide from me.” Molly touches the back of his hand. “I can always go, and we pretend you didn’t have a super sexy dream right next to me and that I don’t wanna do myself because of that.” His fingers wiggle under Essek’s palm, and he lets him pull his hand away. “We can just forget about it entirely. But I need words here. Talk to me?”
“Good gods, Molly.” He stares at the ceiling, and takes another deep breath. He tries to– curtail the embarrassment. He tries to think of every time Caleb has gotten off for them, every time Molly has touched himself in bed next to them when he’s desperate and needy and unabashedly not shy. The residual buzz that came from all of it, and how it spurs on the ache in his groin now. And, honestly… Molly has seen him orgasm before. It isn’t a new thing. He is not usually the exhibitionist in this relationship, but, um. Their tiefling has watched him and Caleb on multiple occasions now. It is different, with the attention solely on him, but… maybe. “Maybe,” he whispers, and tilts his head towards Mollymauk.
“Fuck yeah,” Molly says softly, and shoves his hand under the blankets. Essek does not have to ask what he’s doing. It is a familiar sight. Light, he is rock hard and Molly is touching himself because of it. “Make yourself feel good, love. Whatever makes you feel good.”
“You are incorrigible,” Essek murmurs, and turns his head a little. “You… mentioned an offer. You mentioned this could be an offer.”
He nods. “I mean, I’m not gonna jerk you or anything. I’m not doing that. But I could– do you want me to kiss you? I don’t know what dream Caleb or dream me were doing, but I could kiss you a bit, and whatever else? And you could touch yourself. But I can also just lay here quietly and let you do whatever you need to yourself. I can just pretend I’m asleep.”
Essek’s eyes flick towards the blankets, where Molly’s hand is undoubtedly down his own pants. “Can you lay quietly?” he murmurs, and Mollymauk laughs in a way that feels too loud in the otherwise quiet.
“Okay, I’m gonna be honest, probably not, because I won’t be able to not fuck myself if you get off, but that’s okay, just pretend I’m not here.”
Essek sighs softly, but it’s more in humor than anything. Mollymauk is so shameless. It is a little easier to be shameless, faced with this comparison at his side. “I don’t want to pretend you’re not here, Mollymauk.” Oh, his heart is still pounding, lodged somewhere in his throat. But he can feel his pulse all the way down between his legs, and he doesn’t… he doesn’t want to ignore that.
“Oh, you are sexy, ain’tcha, love?”
He takes another breath, and twitches his hand towards Molly’s face. “I would– you could promote a continuation of the dream,” he says softly. “I just mean… kissing you a bit sounds nice.”
“It sounds bloody wonderful,” Molly agrees, and leans in eagerly to Essek’s mouth.
It is certainly taking him up on the offer. Molly is still drowsy, a little sleep slow as he kisses, but there is little about him that he doesn’t do without intention, and… Essek is already considerably afflicted. You know how this ends, the voice nags in his head, and he does. But he wants to try.
Gods help him, he’d said that the last time, too. But– no. He won’t think of the last time. He won’t focus on the ways it could go wrong. Mollymauk wouldn’t hold it against him if it– if he did have to pull back, again. He knows… he knows. It barely curtails the anxiety, but– but Mollymauk’s mouth, slow but insistent against his, does help.
“Whatever makes you feel good,” Molly says against his mouth, and Essek inclines his head in a helpless nod. This is certainly that. This is certainly helping. He rests his hand against Mollymauk’s bare chest, kisses him a little harder, and… contemplates.
Molly wants him to get off. He would like to get off. That is how this ends. And Molly kissing him is nice, wanted, encouraged, but… the fact of the matter is that he’s already thoroughly worked up from the dream. He doesn’t need help, in that regard, but shoving his hand down his pants just seems so… graceless. Not that that ever stops Mollymauk, or Caleb, when the mood strikes him. Light, he has seen them in some nearly unimaginable situations himself. Going as far as to stand sentinel at the Academy while Molly and Caleb got in a quick one between class–
This should be nothing, in comparison. Honestly, it is almost laughable. He hears the chuckle tumble from his lips and feels more than hears Molly practically purr in response. “There you are, love.” He mouths against his cheek, and presses a kiss near his ear. “There we are.”
“Here we are,” Essek echoes. A little wondrous. More than a little nervous. “Hells, Molly–”
“None of that, now.” His lips crawl to Essek’s jaw. “None of that. We’re good. You’re good. You are so good, lover,” he says, and slowly kisses along his throat. “‘m still jealous of your dreams, but,” he adds, “this is a pretty good trade off, I’d reckon.”
“It’s… it is a pretty good trade off,” Essek repeats, confirms, and takes a deep breath. Maybe there is nothing for it but shoving his hand down his pants. He just needs enough wiggle room and to find the rest of his confidence, just like he has with Caleb, any other time he’s made a conscious– happy– decision to initiate something in their relationship–
His thumb catches over a nipple as he tries to get distance, and Mollymauk jerks, canines against his skin and slinging an arm around Essek to immediately pull him in. Oh, that is not– wiggle room, but he is so encompassing and warm, and can put another bite on his neck like that if he wants to. Essek wants him to. “Molly–”
“Yes, hi,” he says, nosing against an ear. “I’ve got you. Of course,” he says, and bites another bruise.
Essek wonders if he’s that easy to read. Molly bites a bruise that he knows will draw blood and Essek twitches and writhes in response, muttering some Undercommon curse he loses in the haze. He palms at Molly’s bicep and holds on, and he’s so distracted by Mollymauk’s words and his teeth and his tongue that he forgets himself, and the proximity of the two of their bodies again almost makes him want to grind against the tiefling’s hip. He doesn’t– he doesn’t, but it’s a near thing, and he chokes back the aborted noise of want for a second before Molly speaks again.
“That’s a thing, love. That’s an offer. I can do that,” he whispers, and when his thigh nudges between Essek’s legs this time, it is infinitely more intentional, if still a little wary.
Oh, he must be so predictable.
Essek curses in Common, then, hips jerking into the pressure and friction before he can stop himself. “Molly–” he gasps, gripping onto his arm. “Fuck. Mollymauk.”
“Do whatever makes you feel good,” Molly repeats. “I told ya, love. Whatever feels good. You wanna rub off against my thigh, it is there for the taking.” He doesn’t press in further, but he’s– there. The presence is obvious. And so damningly tempting. Essek wants to. Light, for better or worse, he wants to.
He doesn’t know if he’s going to explode from the embarrassment, or just, from– well.
“For gods’ sake,” he mutters, and ducks his head. He slides his hand to Mollymauk’s hip and pulls, urging him in until his thigh is securely between Essek's legs. And that’s a thing, that’s… that practically sends his eyes rolling in his head by itself. “Molly.”
“Uh huh.” Molly wedges his leg in a little closer, a little more firmly. It isn’t exactly a direct reaction so much as it’s giving Essek better leverage; he’s not exactly doing anything, except kissing and touching him like he has been. No, the pleasure is all on Essek to chase. He knows. “I’m here for you, love. Whatever you need,” he repeats, sliding his hand into Essek’s hair. “Use me.”
Luxon, he is embarrassing. It is– derogatory, intense in a way that Essek isn’t entirely used to. Caleb is kinder, gentler… but, no. That’s not true. That’s not a fair comparison. Molly is being kind, and gentle. There is no doubt in that. His words may be base, more inappropriate than the way Essek and Caleb are, but… there is nothing any less careful about how Mollymauk is urging him apart.
Molly might have more of a silver tongue than either of them, but that doesn’t change the fact.
“C’mon, love,” he whispers, teeth scraping against one of the piercings at Essek’s ear. “C’mon, finish out your dream for me.” He musses his hair and strokes his palm along his back. “Show me how it went. Show me how it ends,” he says, and squeezes loosely at the curve of his ass.
Essek presses into the friction between them, chasing– that. Release. Relief. It is messy and uncoordinated in this strange haze between sleep and wide awake, but… effective. Lacking in finesse does not seem to matter much, right now, as he urges Molly back to his mouth and kisses him again. Just a little more. Just a little longer.
He makes a truly embarrassing noise when he connects with Mollymauk’s thigh again, sharp and sudden in the way that makes him– puts him in awe that he can even make such noises. How– when had he started letting himself be like this–
When you fell in love with the two most patient people in the world.
Around him, he feels Mollymauk’s breath stutter with a laugh, and it isn’t– it isn’t whatever insecurity tries to pop up in his mind, Essek knows. He knows, but the embarrassment threatens to bury him alive. He garbles another noise, embarrassed and ashamed and impatient, and he has to yank away from Molly’s mouth and duck his head so he doesn’t look at him, doesn’t see–
“Oh, none of that,” Molly repeats. “I’m not laughing for the reason you think I am, love.”
“I know,” he whispers, rolling his hips against him. “I know,” he mutters, mouthing against the searing heat of Mollymauk’s skin.
“Okay.” Molly’s arm tightens around him, somehow wedging them closer. There is no space. Essek feels like he can’t breathe. His head is spinning as Molly gathers him up and tucks him against his chest. “C’mere, love, c’mere,” he coos, as he tucks Essek’s head under his chin and… lets him hide. Oh. He is giving him this small measure of privacy. “There we go. However you need.”
Maybe it’s silly, but this measure in itself is… touching.
… he’ll take it. It feels a little ridiculous, but it does not feel like before. It feels like desire. It doesn’t feel like force. It feels like Mollymauk’s hands, gentle against his skin, like whispered declarations of love and unending affection. It is a little like the hazy remains of his dream, but… better, because it is real.
Essek keeps his head tucked against Mollymauk’s chest, and takes all of that right into a much needed, bone shaking orgasm. If he feels like he is falling, it is Molly’s arms that keep him locked in place, secure in the present even as he drifts.
“– fuck yeah,” Molly is whispering, as Essek is still trying to catch his breath against tattooed skin. “Good gods, Essek. Fuck, you’re amazing.” He presses a kiss against his hair, and breathes in deeply. “Shit.”
Essek wheezes a noise that sounds like a whine, and winces. “Don’t.” He takes a breath, and swallows. “I do not– deserve the praise.”
“Fuck that, you absolutely do. You're gorgeous.”
How can he blush any further? Essek wonders. “Mollymauk,” he groans, relaxing his fingers from where he’s gripping at Molly's back. “What have you done to me?” he whispers, but it lacks conviction. He… doesn’t mind. He’d– oh, it had been nice. Embarrassing but– but he’s still getting used to that. He doesn’t mind, when Mollymauk says all these things and calls him beautiful and has such devotion in his voice when he speaks.
“I did absolutely nothing, and I stand by that.” Molly pauses, and a pointed nail touches at an aching spot on Essek’s neck. “Well, I did bite you. And kissed you, I suppose. You’re gonna have some spectacular hickeys, love.”
“Okay,” Essek breathes. He can do nothing but breathe an affirmation, because… it’s okay. It’s all okay.
Luxon, this was actually okay. He hadn’t panicked, it had been– so good, and Mollymauk is still stroking his hair. Essek is practically wide eyed with wonder, if only he weren’t so… erm, fucked out.
But he can’t stay like this. He has to face Mollymauk eye to eye and– honestly, he is sweaty now. Being pressed up against Molly is sweltering, trapping heat beneath the blankets with his own trousers going tacky, and… Essek takes one final, deep breath and pulls back into his own space. Molly lets him go, and beams at him when their eyes connect.
It is then, Essek realizes, Mollymauk’s face is red enough to perhaps rival his own, and– that is a little new. They’ve seen Molly red in the throes of actual exertion, sure, but– oh. Right. Essek rests his head back on a blissfully cool pillow, and flicks his eyes down at the blanket over them. “Did you…” He gestures, vaguely.
“Ohhh, no, love.” He chuckles, almost looking a little abashed in his own right. “I mean, I probably could have, it’s a thing, I am hanging on by a gods given thread.” He tucks a wayward piece of hair behind Essek’s ear. “Feeling the wet spot from your jizz on my leg just about made me fuckin’ explode.”
Oh– “Luxon help me,” he blurts, and closes his eyes. Sure, his trousers are thin, but– fuck’s sake, he thinks.
“Oh, I don’t think they can, love,” Molly replies, eyes gleaming. He still looks hectic, even beneath the humor. It’s in his eyes, the desperation and barely there control.
Essek takes another deep breath. “You’ve ruined me,” he comments, and, considers, for a moment, where… where his hand is still beneath the blanket. He hesitates, and rests his fingertips against Molly’s hip. Light. He skims lower, feels Mollymauk tense as fingers brush against his thigh. He hits the offending aforementioned wet spot against Molly’s pants and can’t help wrinkling his nose. But he lets his knuckles graze further in along his thigh, and just… listens to the hitch in Mollymauk’s breath, the sharp inhale and exhale that comes quicker the further Essek goes.
He can do that. And he’s– known, of course, known Mollymauk’s level of devotion towards him. But… it’s different, like this. It’s different, with his hand between Molly’s legs and the buzz of the orgasm still keeping him aloft.
The back of his hand brushes the hard, prominent line of Molly’s prick straining beneath his pants.
And then whatever high he is still chasing is gone, endorphin fueled stupidity chased away by the sound Molly makes, more a keen than a groan, and Essek snatches his hand back like he’s been shocked. Light, what is he doing? He doesn’t– he hasn’t. Not that he would mind. Not that Molly would mind. They would need no discussion, Essek knows. Molly would let him, and he feels like it would– it wouldn’t be any different than the first time he had gotten Caleb off in the bath, tentative but willing. But…
Mollymauk is different. He’s not me. We have had so much more time.
He still remembers Caleb telling him that. He still– knows that is true. This… exploration, with Mollymauk, is still a new thing, and tonight had gone so well. Pushing his luck feels like it would end in disaster. He does not want this thing to taste like poison on his tongue if he tries something and it fails. He isn’t sure he’d be able to forgive himself if it did.
So… the alternative. Something tried and true. Essek settles back into the blankets and says, if a little tremulously, “get yourself off, Molly.”
“Oh, bless you,” Molly blurts, and makes such a frenzied motion to get his hand back on his dick that it would be funny if they weren’t… if this atmosphere wasn’t charged, if Essek wasn’t coming down from orgasm and if Molly wasn’t seconds away from one.
It takes less than thirty seconds, and he’s still blushing enough that even Molly’s moan does not affect him like it might otherwise. The tiefling goes boneless in the pillows, face red and chest heaving, and… we can do that, Essek thinks. They can do that now. It’s a small thing, everything else considered, but–
“Wow,” Molly says, voice heavy with his accent, and Essek just– oh, he can’t help but laugh. Just a chuckle, still a little– nervous, maybe, but–
“Wow,” he repeats, whispering.
“That was so fucking hot.”
“I–” yes, he doesn’t say. “Um. Sorry. For…” He starts to gesture in a general I’m sorry I touched your dick but didn’t follow through manner, but Molly is already shaking his head.
His free hand flops over, patting Essek’s arm. “You are super good. I mean.” He takes a breath, and rolls over to face him again. “Honestly, probably for the best, and if I hadn’t been thinking with my dick, I probably shouldn’t have let you.” Another breath, where he splutters a laugh. “But, I mean, I haven’t wanted to come that bad since, like… I don’t even know. I was never a teenager but I imagine that's probably what that’s like. Shite.” He puffs out a breath, and wipes his hands on the blanket. “Okay. Great. That was great for me. Was that good for you?” he asks, and Essek nods, too.
“It was, Molly… it was.”
“Good!”
“That was, erm, partially why I thought, maybe I shouldn’t– I didn’t want to… push–”
“You literally do not have to explain yourself, at all,” Molly interrupts. “I’m glad you enjoyed what we did and stopped when you weren’t sure. I’m so proud. I’m so proud and hot and happy. And sticky. A little sticky, actually, can you–”
Essek winces, and nods, casting a couple of rounds of prestidigitation to clear away the remaining damp from… either of their releases. Because that was certainly a way to start the day.
But… clearing the mess, and letting his pulse calm, letting Molly draw him back into his arms and snuggle in as the tiefling is wont to do… it doesn’t exactly inspire starting the day. It doesn’t inspire dragging himself from his bed and one of his cherished partners. Maybe in a minute, or three, or five.
He drifts off with his hands in Mollymauk’s hair, and the tiefling whispering pillow talk into his ear as they doze.