[A/N]: Molly/Caleb, Infernal dirty talk, fear kink, frottage, Molly you're a dick
--
"I shouldn't have said anything, I'm sorry."
Caleb looks the very picture of contrition, his gaze firmly on his shoes. It's such a sorry sight that the initial flash of irritation Molly felt at his request disappears like a curl of smoke.
"Now, now, let's not be hasty. I'm just curious. Why come to me with a request like this?"
Caleb looks up then, somewhere past Molly's shoulder. It's not eye contact but it's the closest he gets to it, so that's progress already.
"Who else?" he replies, sounding so genuinely baffled that Molly feels immediately vindicated. If they're going to be doing this - and despite his immediate reaction, the idea does intrigue him - Mollymauk wants it to be about himself, not just about some daft idea that Caleb has picked up from one of his smut novels. He's got that much pride. "I've been enjoying what we're doing, truly, I am just...intrigued by your voice. The way you use it. You charm people. You scare people. This must sound strange, I know I spend a lot of time and energy trying not to be scared, but-"
Caleb's rambling now, trying to justify his request to himself as much as anything, so Molly stops him with an upheld palm.
"Hey, it's okay, I get it. There's fear and there's fear, right, and sometimes you want a little of the latter." He does get it. The kind of fear that closes over your head like water and turns your stomach to stone, that kind isn't fun at all. But the one that shoots into your limbs like lightning and spurs you to action can be. Well, and sometimes that kind of fear tells your body "don't die without reproducing first, idiot", which can have all kinds of fun side effects. Caleb still looks dubious, but his body language is a little more open now. Molly leans forward a bit, mindful of his space.
"Listen, giving people the good kind of scare when they asked for it was part of my actual job. I know how this works. Now the question is, how do we want to do this?"
"That means you are willing to try...that?" Caleb asks. Bless his foolish heart, he's finally catching on, and unwinding a bit more as he does, too. His cheeks are all kinds of pink under the ginger stubble.
"I just wanted to be sure of your intentions first, dear." Molly says airily. This isn't the first time he's been asked to speak Infernal in bed, actually, but Caleb is being less of a dunce about it than he could've been, so Molly's willing to humor him. "Let's not go about this stupidly, though. I'm not going to do anything that could harm you for real, but words have power, and it could still become too much."
Caleb shoots a downright defiant glare in the vague direction of his face, at that. "The word I agreed on with other partners to indicate when it became too much is Hexenmeister. I'm no bloody neophyte, Mollymauk, thank you ever so much."
He wasn't sure either way, before that, but it's a pleasing bit of knowledge to have. Even more pleasing that despite the snippishness in his tone, Caleb comes to sit next to him on the bed, their thighs just brushing.
"I didn't mean to imply you were," Molly says soothingly, a bit distracted by the hand now making cautious headway onto his thigh. He laughs. "Do you know, some people consider Zemnian to be a most scary and intimidating language?"
"That's ridiculous," Caleb scoffs.
"No, really, they might have a point there. Truly, I quake in my boots whenever you call someone a dreckiges Schweinhund," Molly teases, which makes Caleb frown at the bridge of his nose, his hand halting its progress. Touchy, touchy. It's almost irresistible, how easy he is to fluster, but Molly doesn't want to discourage him, either.
"Your case is wrong, your pronunciation is atrocious and I didn't ask for you to make fun of me," Caleb says.
"Oh, but you kind of did," Molly starts, but he doesn't get any further than that before Caleb is angry-kissing him. Well, then. He leans into it gratefully. Oh, but this is simply the best way to get him out of his shell. They're both flushed when they pull away, having awkwardly twisted to get at each other's faces, thighs pressed close and hands wandering much more freely now.
Molly presses his lips together, becoming serious for just a moment, because: there's never a good time to underestimate how stupid humans can be. "No, but really. You're not getting the big scary Tiefling without any of the sass. That's not how I play this."
"That's not why-"
"Yes, yes, you've told me, you're fascinated by my scary powerful voice. I'm extremely flattered."
"That's not all, though." Caleb squirms like something about the admission pains him. "I don't enjoy most...dirty talk. It's awkward at best. If I can't understand you, it might be better. Just don't insult me, even if I won't know, and we'll be fine."
"You want me to talk you up in Infernal because you think it'll be less awkward?" Molly stifles his laughter with great difficulty, not wanting to put him off when things are getting fun. This is too rich. "It's a novel idea, and we have an understanding. But I think we should get a little more comfortable for it."
It's been trial and error to figure how to make their very different reactions to physical touch work, sometimes nervewracking, other times terribly fun. Touches are usually fine, they've found, as long as every planned motion is carefully telegraphed, giving Caleb time to anticipate and react if necessary. And at the times he's receptive to contact, a body draped over his is actually quite welcome. Something about the pressure, apparentely, is calming. Molly, who likes cataloguing the ways he can use his body not only in combat but also in intimacy, appreciates another way to do just that.
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timeasmymeasure
there's fear and there's fear - Molly/Caleb (1/2)
Date: 2018-03-19 07:57 pm (UTC)--
"I shouldn't have said anything, I'm sorry."
Caleb looks the very picture of contrition, his gaze firmly on his shoes. It's such a sorry sight that the initial flash of irritation Molly felt at his request disappears like a curl of smoke.
"Now, now, let's not be hasty. I'm just curious. Why come to me with a request like this?"
Caleb looks up then, somewhere past Molly's shoulder. It's not eye contact but it's the closest he gets to it, so that's progress already.
"Who else?" he replies, sounding so genuinely baffled that Molly feels immediately vindicated. If they're going to be doing this - and despite his immediate reaction, the idea does intrigue him - Mollymauk wants it to be about himself, not just about some daft idea that Caleb has picked up from one of his smut novels. He's got that much pride.
"I've been enjoying what we're doing, truly, I am just...intrigued by your voice. The way you use it. You charm people. You scare people. This must sound strange, I know I spend a lot of time and energy trying not to be scared, but-"
Caleb's rambling now, trying to justify his request to himself as much as anything, so Molly stops him with an upheld palm.
"Hey, it's okay, I get it. There's fear and there's fear, right, and sometimes you want a little of the latter." He does get it. The kind of fear that closes over your head like water and turns your stomach to stone, that kind isn't fun at all. But the one that shoots into your limbs like lightning and spurs you to action can be. Well, and sometimes that kind of fear tells your body "don't die without reproducing first, idiot", which can have all kinds of fun side effects. Caleb still looks dubious, but his body language is a little more open now. Molly leans forward a bit, mindful of his space.
"Listen, giving people the good kind of scare when they asked for it was part of my actual job. I know how this works. Now the question is, how do we want to do this?"
"That means you are willing to try...that?" Caleb asks. Bless his foolish heart, he's finally catching on, and unwinding a bit more as he does, too. His cheeks are all kinds of pink under the ginger stubble.
"I just wanted to be sure of your intentions first, dear." Molly says airily. This isn't the first time he's been asked to speak Infernal in bed, actually, but Caleb is being less of a dunce about it than he could've been, so Molly's willing to humor him. "Let's not go about this stupidly, though. I'm not going to do anything that could harm you for real, but words have power, and it could still become too much."
Caleb shoots a downright defiant glare in the vague direction of his face, at that. "The word I agreed on with other partners to indicate when it became too much is Hexenmeister. I'm no bloody neophyte, Mollymauk, thank you ever so much."
He wasn't sure either way, before that, but it's a pleasing bit of knowledge to have. Even more pleasing that despite the snippishness in his tone, Caleb comes to sit next to him on the bed, their thighs just brushing.
"I didn't mean to imply you were," Molly says soothingly, a bit distracted by the hand now making cautious headway onto his thigh. He laughs. "Do you know, some people consider Zemnian to be a most scary and intimidating language?"
"That's ridiculous," Caleb scoffs.
"No, really, they might have a point there. Truly, I quake in my boots whenever you call someone a dreckiges Schweinhund," Molly teases, which makes Caleb frown at the bridge of his nose, his hand halting its progress. Touchy, touchy. It's almost irresistible, how easy he is to fluster, but Molly doesn't want to discourage him, either.
"Your case is wrong, your pronunciation is atrocious and I didn't ask for you to make fun of me," Caleb says.
"Oh, but you kind of did," Molly starts, but he doesn't get any further than that before Caleb is angry-kissing him. Well, then. He leans into it gratefully. Oh, but this is simply the best way to get him out of his shell. They're both flushed when they pull away, having awkwardly twisted to get at each other's faces, thighs pressed close and hands wandering much more freely now.
Molly presses his lips together, becoming serious for just a moment, because: there's never a good time to underestimate how stupid humans can be. "No, but really. You're not getting the big scary Tiefling without any of the sass. That's not how I play this."
"That's not why-"
"Yes, yes, you've told me, you're fascinated by my scary powerful voice. I'm extremely flattered."
"That's not all, though." Caleb squirms like something about the admission pains him. "I don't enjoy most...dirty talk. It's awkward at best. If I can't understand you, it might be better. Just don't insult me, even if I won't know, and we'll be fine."
"You want me to talk you up in Infernal because you think it'll be less awkward?" Molly stifles his laughter with great difficulty, not wanting to put him off when things are getting fun. This is too rich. "It's a novel idea, and we have an understanding. But I think we should get a little more comfortable for it."
It's been trial and error to figure how to make their very different reactions to physical touch work, sometimes nervewracking, other times terribly fun. Touches are usually fine, they've found, as long as every planned motion is carefully telegraphed, giving Caleb time to anticipate and react if necessary. And at the times he's receptive to contact, a body draped over his is actually quite welcome. Something about the pressure, apparentely, is calming. Molly, who likes cataloguing the ways he can use his body not only in combat but also in intimacy, appreciates another way to do just that.