((ooc: I really hope I made it clear that Caleb's actions in this part and the next are because he started dissociating in a bad and ugly way that he hadn't had to deal with in a while, so he wasn't entirely present. I still feel like this part and the next might have been a little much, even for what the OP was going for, but it was how I wound up making the mutual panic attack thing work. Actual comfort and discussing of shit will come in part 6, pinkie promise.))
All right, he and Caleb were both a little drunk when they decided they were going to finally take this plunge, but not so drunk that any decision they made was inherently a bad one. Just enough to make them brave enough to stop dancing around this issue that had been hanging over their heads for weeks.
And the watered-down ale wasn’t half as intoxicating as the kisses, as the feeling of reciprocation and acceptance. Caleb's mouth was warm and sweet, with a strange tang of ozone to it that made Molly wonder if magic had a taste. The first brush of the other man's tongue against his made it feel like a live spark had shot down Molly's spine from the base of his skull to the tip of his tail.
By the time they finally stumbled up to a room and locked the door behind them, he was well and truly drunk on sentiment and want, his brain as full of fuzzy pink fog as if he'd just downed the Pillow Trove's top shelf wine. So he wasn’t remotely been in the mood to talk too much or think too far when Caleb pulled away long enough to take a breath and murmur: "I know...I know there is a lot you have done but, ah, is there anything we shouldn't do?"
No, Molly was so distracted by how Caleb's pupils were blown so wide in his pretty blue eyes and how red Caleb's lips were from kissing and how his cock was starting to become a heavy, insistent weight, aching for friction and touch. So he just smiled and chirped: "You know me, I'm game for anything exciting. Consider me at your disposal, Mister Caleb."
Then he went right back to kissing Caleb, and felt Caleb sigh into his mouth and relax under his hands. With that decided, they both got one another dragged towards the bed.
It all started so well. The more they stripped each other down, the more...confident Caleb seemed to get, like he was slipping on a second skin that Molly had never seen before. He didn’t just get confident, he got commanding, too, telling Molly how to lay, what to do. And that was far, far more exciting than Molly had ever thought it could be, more than it had half a right to be. Somehow, it also felt…safe in the same breath. It didn’t matter that he was inexperienced, Caleb knew what to do. Caleb would take care of him, and somehow that thought went right down to his bones, relaxing to a degree he had never known and didn’t understand.
Caleb retrieved a small bottle of sweet oil from one of the many pockets of his coat, got Molly’s fingers good and slick, and talked him through getting himself ready while Caleb sat back and watched. And that was good, that was so good, Molly had always loved having an audience and having Caleb staring at him with hunger in his eyes like Molly was the most beautiful thing in the world was better than he’d ever dreamed. “Now spread your fingers, slowly, slowly…”
When Caleb deemed Molly was ready, he drew close to him once more until he was half-straddling the tiefling, his hands on the tiefling’s shoulders to urge him down quite insistently. Molly obeyed, falling onto his back, with Caleb’s warm weight on top of him, pressing him down into the mattress. Dimly, a little distantly, he felt the other man’s hands fumbling for his own, taking hold of them, lacing their fingers together in a way that made Molly’s heart feel full and tender.
Without breaking their joined grasps, he pressed Molly’s hands against the mattress on either side of his head, then leaned in close to kiss him again, hot and deep and hungry. Molly let his eyes fall closed and parted his lips easily, willingly, welcoming Caleb into his mouth, thinking dizzily of what a good picture this made, how he wished he could see how they looked right now from the outside.
When Caleb finally pulled away, Molly got his first sign that something might be wrong, that some delicate thing was about to wobble off its axis. It took him a moment before his vision cleared enough to see his face. What he saw there made his heart stutter with the beginnings of dread, made the first hints of doubt and concern rise up in the back of his throat like bile. Caleb’s eyes were…distant, and his shoulders were tense, and maybe it was something in the way the dimly lit room threw harsh shadows over his face from this angle, but he looked almost like a cold, closed off stranger.
“Lie still,” Caleb whispered, something deeper and darker than lust in his words that Molly couldn’t have begun to know the name to. “Be good.”
Ask Me No Questions, I'll Tell You No Lies (4/?) [inadvertent bad BDSM etiquette]
All right, he and Caleb were both a little drunk when they decided they were going to finally take this plunge, but not so drunk that any decision they made was inherently a bad one. Just enough to make them brave enough to stop dancing around this issue that had been hanging over their heads for weeks.
And the watered-down ale wasn’t half as intoxicating as the kisses, as the feeling of reciprocation and acceptance. Caleb's mouth was warm and sweet, with a strange tang of ozone to it that made Molly wonder if magic had a taste. The first brush of the other man's tongue against his made it feel like a live spark had shot down Molly's spine from the base of his skull to the tip of his tail.
By the time they finally stumbled up to a room and locked the door behind them, he was well and truly drunk on sentiment and want, his brain as full of fuzzy pink fog as if he'd just downed the Pillow Trove's top shelf wine. So he wasn’t remotely been in the mood to talk too much or think too far when Caleb pulled away long enough to take a breath and murmur: "I know...I know there is a lot you have done but, ah, is there anything we shouldn't do?"
No, Molly was so distracted by how Caleb's pupils were blown so wide in his pretty blue eyes and how red Caleb's lips were from kissing and how his cock was starting to become a heavy, insistent weight, aching for friction and touch. So he just smiled and chirped: "You know me, I'm game for anything exciting. Consider me at your disposal, Mister Caleb."
Then he went right back to kissing Caleb, and felt Caleb sigh into his mouth and relax under his hands. With that decided, they both got one another dragged towards the bed.
It all started so well. The more they stripped each other down, the more...confident Caleb seemed to get, like he was slipping on a second skin that Molly had never seen before. He didn’t just get confident, he got commanding, too, telling Molly how to lay, what to do. And that was far, far more exciting than Molly had ever thought it could be, more than it had half a right to be. Somehow, it also felt…safe in the same breath. It didn’t matter that he was inexperienced, Caleb knew what to do. Caleb would take care of him, and somehow that thought went right down to his bones, relaxing to a degree he had never known and didn’t understand.
Caleb retrieved a small bottle of sweet oil from one of the many pockets of his coat, got Molly’s fingers good and slick, and talked him through getting himself ready while Caleb sat back and watched. And that was good, that was so good, Molly had always loved having an audience and having Caleb staring at him with hunger in his eyes like Molly was the most beautiful thing in the world was better than he’d ever dreamed. “Now spread your fingers, slowly, slowly…”
When Caleb deemed Molly was ready, he drew close to him once more until he was half-straddling the tiefling, his hands on the tiefling’s shoulders to urge him down quite insistently. Molly obeyed, falling onto his back, with Caleb’s warm weight on top of him, pressing him down into the mattress. Dimly, a little distantly, he felt the other man’s hands fumbling for his own, taking hold of them, lacing their fingers together in a way that made Molly’s heart feel full and tender.
Without breaking their joined grasps, he pressed Molly’s hands against the mattress on either side of his head, then leaned in close to kiss him again, hot and deep and hungry. Molly let his eyes fall closed and parted his lips easily, willingly, welcoming Caleb into his mouth, thinking dizzily of what a good picture this made, how he wished he could see how they looked right now from the outside.
When Caleb finally pulled away, Molly got his first sign that something might be wrong, that some delicate thing was about to wobble off its axis. It took him a moment before his vision cleared enough to see his face. What he saw there made his heart stutter with the beginnings of dread, made the first hints of doubt and concern rise up in the back of his throat like bile. Caleb’s eyes were…distant, and his shoulders were tense, and maybe it was something in the way the dimly lit room threw harsh shadows over his face from this angle, but he looked almost like a cold, closed off stranger.
“Lie still,” Caleb whispered, something deeper and darker than lust in his words that Molly couldn’t have begun to know the name to. “Be good.”