lusi | ( fjord's perma-catchall )

[ The lingering kiss suffuses him with a tingling heat that has Fjord simmering with want, already antsy from talking about such things, and he shivers as he listens to Caleb's confession. Smiles, and it matches Caleb's teasing expression from before, giddy with all the new options opening up between them. ]

I think I can manage that.

[ He squeezes playfully around Caleb's waist, nudging him backwards with a knee. ]

Take a seat then, and so will I.

[ Astonishing, how so much promise can be packed into a few low words. ]

[ There's giddy relief in Caleb's smile, and he lingers for just long enough to kiss Fjord again. Anticipation and excitement make his nerves feel less daunting. When he draws away from Fjord, just a half-step back to the chair, he can already feel it spreading, making him feel pleasantly light-headed.

When he feels the edge of the chair behind him, he sits down, all without taking his eyes off Fjord. His gaze his intense with heated curiosity, eager as he is to see exactly what Fjord has in mind. He wants to explore him, touch him, learn what makes him feel good. ]

[ Caleb's kisses are all so honest and impetuous, Fjord understands them completely as he leans into each brief, earnest peck.

For a moment after Caleb takes his seat he dithers on the spot, not really having a solid plan of action beyond a vague idea of asking Caleb and then the conclusion, but he thinks he has an idea or two up his sleeve ... or out of it.

His arms cross as he finds the hem of the simple cotton shirt to tug it up and over his head, revealing himself for Caleb's benefit. The lighter green that dapples the centre of his chest is covered in black hair smattered in scars from various battles that Caleb will surely remember a few of, but the most prominent is the matching scar to Molly's in the middle of a breastbone, a paler green between heavy pecs. The slicing mark of the Falchion matches the scar between his shoulder-blades, the latter hidden for now as he steps forward after a moment's pause to drop his shirt.

He keeps his gaze on Caleb's face as he widens his stance and sinks down on his friend's lap, arms coming to rest naturally on Caleb's shoulders. Maybe Fjord is a little too big for this, he thinks, in the next moment not caring at all about appearances when he gets a thrill from being planted squarely in Caleb's lap for his attention, enjoying how much of the wizard's space he commands. ]

Warm me up?

[ Watching Caleb intently, it would be impossible not to notice the way his lips part to draw in a sharp breath and his eyes become practically glued to the shift of muscle in Fjord's torso. This is far from the first time he has seen Fjord shirtless. But there is a distinct difference between happening to notice his friend's impressive physique at the bathhouse or aboard the ship or changing in a shared room and watching Fjord remove his shirt deliberately for him. It invites him to admire openly in a way he hasn't before, and there is plenty to admire.

The halforc is expectedly heavy when he settles over his lap. His muscular thighs are thicker than Caleb's, easily compared like this, and his arms drape over his shoulders, putting both his pecs and biceps on eye level. His presence is all-encompassingly, wonderfully overwhelming in a way that demands all of Caleb's attention.

There is absolutely no way he isn't hopelessly bright red and wide-eyed. ]

Ja, bestimmt. Na sicher. Er--sure, of course. [ Momentarily tongue-tied, he has to force his brain to change gears so that he can speak Common again. He's also paralyzed by indecision, presented with so many options it makes his head spin. Just where and how is he supposed to touch first? He wets his lips nervously before shaking his head with a soft, helpless laugh under his breath. He must look so foolish. ] Sorry, sorry. Fjord, you are...stunning.

[ Figuring out where to start is a little easier when he reassures himself that he can eventually explore everywhere. Both hands settle first at his waist as Caleb allows himself to follow a particularly tempting whim, using his thumbs to trace that absurdly attractive v-shaped crease down toward his waistband. Leaning forward, he presses his lips to Fjord's chest, beginning just beneath the dip of his collarbone. He has to lean in and up more and more as he starts to work his way up his throat from there with warm, exploratory kisses reminiscent of the way he'd spent several long minutes mouthing at Fjord's neck the first night they'd discussed any of this.

Of course, because this is Caleb, that is no coincidence. He remembers perfectly how affected Fjord had been just by that. ]

[ Any flattered blush he has upon being called stunning runs deeper as Caleb's hands melt across his skin, curious fingers slipping along iliac grooves like they know all the fault-lines of his body already. He sucks in a breath on Caleb's name and scrunches up red hair in a loose fist for purchase when kisses start to smear across his chest, making his lashes droop in their path up his neck. ]

Oh.

[ Fjord shifts closer in a full-bodied arch, an unsteadier breath leaving him as his eyes close to better enjoy the pass of that mouth over his pulse. His free hand grasps at a shirt's collar. ]

Talk to me, I want to hear your voice.

[ The combination of fingers curling into his hair, the shifting weight of Fjord in his lap arching toward him, and a shaky breath that sounds like his name sure does go straight to his cock. It's a flare of arousal so distinct and undeniable that Caleb gasps sharply against Fjord's neck, shocked by the strength of his own body's capacity for desire. That is what they're here for, obviously, but it really has been years for him. ]

I can do that. [ Murmured against the warm skin beneath his mouth between increasingly hungry kisses. ] What do you want to hear?

[ It's mostly a rhetorical question, a pause so that he can nip lightly where he feels the thud of Fjord's pulse beneath his lips. As Fjord's hand finds his collar, Caleb's hands clutch harder at his waist, half to ground himself. ]

I want to know how to touch you, Fjord. What you like best.

[ Getting hard is not a secret for Fjord as the front of his breeches start to strain against Caleb's navel, a burgeoning erection filling out easily. It's the soft red hair in his fingers and the tight grip at his waist that have him choking back a gasp and failing to do so. ]

I don't know, uh.

[ His hips shift in a slow roll, not uncertain about what he wants but a little shy. The slightest friction is heavenly and has him arching his shoulders, head tipping back as his lower half slants forward in a grind. ]

I, um. Mmm. I liked ... where your hands started.

[ That slow, heavy grind is also incredible for Caleb, who is far too caught up in the moment to even think about stifling the low groan torn out of his throat. Feeling the way Fjord hardens against him has Caleb following suit with dizzying speed. Alone, getting off has usually been perfunctory at best. With a partner, with Fjord, it is anything but. He feels excited, exhilarated, desperate for more. And it seems like every little thing Fjord does ratchets these feelings up higher and higher, an increasing pressure. ]

So did I. [ He can't quite reach high enough to kiss Fjord's jaw, so he leaves off just beneath it with a teasing scrape of teeth. His hands slip down again, tracing lines of muscle with cleverly light fingertips.

Caleb has good hands for this. Good hands in general with long, elegantly tapered fingers, a little calloused and stained from all his writing and casting and handling of components, but dexterous and skilled from practice with somatic movements. He uses them now to follow the line of Fjord's trousers, skimming just barely against his skin. ] Tell me you will let me do this in bed sometime. I would like to lay you out and take my time with this part.

[ His neck feels pleasantly numb from Caleb's attention, tingling a little in the wake of having heightened Fjord's arousal. He wars between being incredibly pleased Caleb knows about it and wishing no one did because it makes him so easy.

His abdomen reflexively tightens as Caleb's hands run over it and settle lower, right on a fallen waistband. Green fingers wind through Caleb's hair. ]

If you want that ...

[ He nods. Presuming Caleb would have wanted this much felt cheeky, it's another thing to know he wants to see how Fjord looks in their bed.

Gods, their bed. ]

[ Caleb leans back far enough to look up at Fjord's face, then trace a significant glance down the rest of his body. Yes, he wants that. Maybe that is treading somehow on the structure of their arrangement, meant to be helping each other with squares rather than making personal requests, but now that Caleb is here, he can't help making it personal. ]

Good. [ He smiles with obvious affection. Fingertips card teasingly through the trail of dark hair leading down from Fjord's navel, tugging that waistband down a little in the process. ] Do you want this now?

[ One hand continues down, cups the obvious shape of Fjord's dick through the fabric of his breeches. Caleb feels a sympathetic throb from his own erection as he squeezes gently. ] It feels like you do.

[ His lashes flutter as Caleb trickles his touch along a happy-trail, watching him keenly. His voice sounds dry and broken when he speaks, having to clear his throat. ]

Yes.

[ On impulse, he leans in to kiss Caleb with a thoroughness that borders on desperate, letting him taste how much Fjord wants him with a low moan that pours off his tongue. He arches in to encourage Caleb to free him from the lacings on his trousers, peering down intently so he can watch those lovely learned fingers on his burning cock. ]

Come on, Cay.

[ A dare, along with a teasing smile that holds more bravado than he feels. ]

[ That kiss leaves Caleb reeling for a long moment even after it's over, swept up by the burning need it had conveyed. But his fingers are still precise when they begin pulling apart the laces of Fjord's breeches, opening the fabric further with every sharp tug.

Fjord's goading urges him on, and he glances up from his work just briefly to meet his eye and return his smile with one of his own, somewhere between bashful and playful.

But his attention is taken again quickly as he slides a hand into the open front of Fjord's breeches and takes hold of his cock, giving a slow, experimental stroke before he draws it out. He can tell just from that initial touch that there are some notable differences from what he's used to, even apart from the size, which he'd already been aware of despite best efforts to politely avert his gaze when appropriate.

When he does get a good look, the first word out of his mouth is a soft Zemnian curse under his breath. But it's clear he isn't put off in the least, as he's already thumbing gently over a ridge, careful but curious. ]

[ An unsteady breath sighs into Caleb's hair as Fjord watches him peel open those laces, methodical and curious. Even the way Caleb runs his palm over him has Fjord breathing faster, mostly because it is Caleb and he can imagine going into his tower's bedroom or the one at the Xhorhaus to feel this good too, finding Caleb there with his wonderful goddamn hands. ]

You have no idea how hard I feel right now.

[ Or he probably does, considering. The ridges that ring Fjord's cock get harder as he does, stiffening so it becomes apparent why he wouldn't want to get erect in polite company, it looks like a whole endeavour to get off.

In Caleb's hand, Fjord twitches and bites back gasps. ]

[ Watching and feeling Fjord harden in his hand is a level of erotic that has Caleb isn't prepared for. He feels almost helpless against it as he looks between the exploratory stroking of his hand along the flushed green of Fjord's cock and the flushed green of his friend's face, and he drags his teeth across his own lower lip to keep himself from moaning outright.

This is something he'd never have anticipated happening between them, but now that it has, he wants. ]

I think I have some idea.

[ Teasing, but half at his own expense. Not only can he feel the way Fjord's cock twitches in his grip, but he's achingly hard himself.

He uses two hands, one with fingers circled near the base, giving short, tight, encouraging strokes. The other explores, fingers trailing over the stiffened ribbing along the sides and around the head, a thumb applying more pressure underneath, back and forth. Caleb is in the process of examining, learning, and remembering, all the better to give Fjord exactly what he likes in the future. ]

[ Usually getting off would mean a quick jerk in the bath in the morning to clear his head for the day, perfunctory at best. With Caleb he can not only see him examining but feel it too and gods damn it, if that isn't a hell of a turn-on, to be the centre of his focus. His world, awhile.

Turns out he can't actually watch for long before his hips drive forward into those strokes, head tipping back on a groan. ]

Caleb, oh gods ...

[ His fingers wind through their grip in red hair to tug a little, nails biting into Caleb's shoulder as an anchor whenever a thumb brushes underneath the thick soft crown, starting to bead precome. ]

That feels so good, fuck. Oh, fuck.

[ He hadn't expected Fjord to keep his hips still for long, but the way he starts fucking forward into his fist, like he just can't help himself--gods, that's hot. Fjord rocks in his lap, grinding along Caleb's cock. The bright-sharp sting of his hair being tugged, of hard nails through the thin fabric of his shirt, and the sound of Fjord groaning his name has Caleb gasping raggedly, more aroused than he can remember being in a long, long time. His hips might jump too if they weren't pinned beneath Fjord. ]

Sehr gut, sehr gut. You are so incredible, Fjord.

[ He's barely thinking about the praise he gives, just that Fjord deserves it. Indulgently, he finds a pattern to stroke in time with the hitch of Fjord's hips, letting him grind those ridges against his palm. His other hand still plays more delicately, rough fingertips cupped around the thick head while his thumb rubs deliberately beneath the crown, hoping to encourage more of the precome proimisingly welling at the tip. ]

[ A range of curses leave under his breath as he finds a wonderful rhythm in Caleb's care, rocking forward with shortening breaths. Caleb gets his wish for more precome, slick as it coats his palms while Fjord flusters above. ]

Don't you want ... ?

[ It takes some effort but he rocks down instead of forward, the line of Caleb's erection finding a home in the seam of Fjord's trousers. Every cant of his hips drags over the tip of Caleb's clothed cock, letting him nestle and rut right up behind the heavy weight of Fjord's aching balls. It feels ... ]

Good, ah, is that good for you too?

[ He hasn't let anyone take him like that yet but the dull ghost of it has his cock dripping in pleasure, lashes fluttering. ]

[ If he'd thought that the occasional incidental stimulation was good, Caleb is woefully unprepared for how it feels when it is deliberate. His cock slots perfectly along the seam between Fjord's legs, and even with several layers between them he can feel the heat of his body and the back-and-forth drag of pressure every time his hips shift. Caleb's hand stutters in its rhythm on Fjord's dick, slowing as he's distracted by how good it feels to rock up against him, even if what he's feeling most is the fabric of his own clothing, becoming wetter around the tip of his cock as precome soaks into it.

It also isn't lost on him what these motions are pantomiming, which is a distracting thought all by itself. ]

Gods, Fjord.

[ That helpless moan is as much of an answer as he provides, but it's pretty plain to see this is very good for him. Caleb recognizes the tight feeling building near the base of his cock, knows distantly that sooner or later, likely sooner, he is going to come in his breeches like an overeager teenager. But this feels so amazing that he almost doesn't care.

He manages to pick up the rhythm again, helped along by the steady drip of precome wetting his hand. The fluid smears down the length of Fjord's erection with every pump of his fist, slicking the way for a faster pace. ]

[ It's getting too hot even with just his breeches (partly) on and he regrets they didn't do this in a bed to begin with. Perhaps that's for the best though, given how affected they both are with Caleb simply letting him ride his lap. His thoughts fly to when Molly touched him and he backed off in a panic; he wasn't expecting it, hadn't thought about it, and yet he's comfortable simulating a slow fuck with Caleb as their moans fill the kitchen.

Fjord resolves not to confuse himself until later.

He currently has a beautiful friend to seek out kisses from, running his hands through Caleb's hair as he (selfishly) lets him attend his own cock, driving up into a clutching slick fist and rolling back over Caleb's neglected erection. Close, Fjord makes a noise that usually only gets knocked out of him in a fight, a rumble like a growl to signal he's losing control. It cracks his voice, deepening it an octave or two as he groans, hips bucking. ]

Caleb, Cay, ohfuckohgods, I'm coming ... !

[ The faster pace of that hand milks out an orgasm that has Fjord snarling into Caleb's hair, thighs tight around his hips and the chair with every thrust that spills more. It's hot and a little thicker than human, and there's definitely more of it as Fjord literally rides out his shudders with a choked off wail. ]

[ Fjord shudders with a sound that's briefly startling, not used to hearing it in this context. But the reason becomes quickly apparent as the sound shifts, and Fjord growls a warning that sends a pleasant shiver down Caleb's spine as he brings him to his peak. He doesn't slow his hand as he strokes him through it, wanting to make it last for him, though it seems Fjord hardly needs his help with that. He comes more than Caleb's ever experienced, spilling thickly over his own torso, Caleb's hand, and the front of Caleb's shirt. But even the latter doesn't concern him at the moment.

More pressing is the way Fjord rocks over him, bringing him nearly to the cusp of his own orgasm. It's so close he can feel the throb of it in his balls and at the base of his spine, hot and tight. Fjord's grip on his hair stings in a way that only makes it worse as he pulls back enough to look up at him, blue eyes wide and dark, brow furrowed with desperation. ]

A little more, Fjord, please, [ he urges, low and rough and vulnerable. His hips push up against the curve of Fjord's ass, and just the knowledge of Fjord getting off on riding him like this is nearly enough to undo him. Nearly. ]

[ That low rumble dies off into heavy breathing as he floats back down into his body, slumped against Caleb. Poor, sweet Caleb who is still rock-solid beneath him.

Luckily for him, Fjord is too. ]

Sorry to leave you behind.

[ He noses his way through a temple of soft ginger locks and plants lazy kisses there, kneading down Caleb's shoulders and arms, guiding his hands to a green chest where Caleb can touch him wherever he wants. Fjord has the wherewithal to plant his boots on the floor and brace an arm on the table behind them, bright eyes on Caleb as he starts to move with far more intentional grace, never having been in this position before but loving the power of it.

With one orgasm down it's easy to feel a second build on its heels. He cups Caleb's cheek as he kisses him deeply, letting him know he's seen and the way Fjord is learning how to move is all for him. His lips smear along a jaw, tusks nipping, and he gasps as he feels the hardness of that cock driving right up against something that feels wonderful, faster and firmer with the flick of his hips. No idea what but it's all pleasure, all the same.

He sounds rough and breathless when he asks beside Caleb's upturned mouth, just to bask in being lurid and see if Caleb likes it, ]

Is this how you'd fuck me?

[ Bewildering for a moment to find Fjord still as hard as he is before Caleb reminds himself of his warning that night by the fire. Right. Once more, then. He's just as eager to make Fjord come a second time, though perhaps after he's gotten off himself, just so he can think straight.

They're of a similar enough mind, it seems, because Fjord starts building him up again quickly, takes care of him with genuine affection and playful kindness. His tender touch and his kisses ground him and remind him that he is cared for, and Caleb returns them in kind. His hands trail over the hard and soft of Fjord's chest, following the curve of his pecs to scrape blunt nails over his nipples before wandering further down, wanting to feel the way his core muscles flex while he uses them to ride his lap.

Fjord seems even more eager for it now, so much that Caleb barely has to move himself--though he still does, letting the impulses of his body guide each quick, desperate snap of his hips. But Fjord meets him every time with a neediness of his own, setting the pace faster and faster like he's enjoying that friction as much as Caleb is. He is panting, lips parted and wet from kissing, brought to the very precipice, when Fjord asks is this how, and Caleb gasps at the unexpected--but not unwelcome--dirty talk. Fjord seems so pleased and confident like this, giving Caleb his pleasure even as he takes his own. What could be better? ]

Yes, schön, just like this, [ he gasps, turning his face to Fjord's to steal another hard kiss as they rock together. He's so close, drawn to a peak of tension everywhere and ready to snap, and he's so glad he is with Fjord, grateful for his trust and care. ] Fjord, Fjord, I'm so--ah--

[ His voice breaks on the word he'd been about to utter as he hits that peak, a feeling of catharsis that pulses through every nerve in his body as he spills, as predicted, into his own breeches with several soft, broken gasps muffled against Fjord's neck. His hips keep grinding up of their own accord, and every nudge of the tip of his cock into the heat behind Fjord's balls makes his thighs quiver. It's a very human orgasm, not nearly so voluminous as Fjord's, but so intense it leaves him panting, chest heaving. ]

[ Caleb's a gorgeous sight when he comes.

Fjord keeps moving for as long as Caleb does, rocking down a little lighter until the overstimulation becomes too much for his friend and Fjord sits back on his lap. He's still hard but it's negligible at this point, his priority and focus is Caleb whom he cards back the hair of, kissing his way down a stubbled neck to soothe the pounding pulse there. ]

I've got you, I'm here ...

[ His hands slide down Caleb's shoulders and arms, gliding up his chest to curl around his neck again in one slow, swooping sweep. ]

You're okay.

[ The coming down part has the potential to be unpleasant. It usually is when he's alone, left with nothing but his own thoughts. But today Fjord is here to ease him through it, the first time in sixteen years that he's had someone with him like this. His beard prickles against Caleb's sensitive skin as he kisses a path down his neck, and Caleb lets that and the familiar rumble of Fjord's voice reassure him. He's surrounded by Fjord, still seated heavily on his lap, thick arms around his shoulders, as not-alone as he could possibly be. His breathing gradually evens out, and though his muscles continue to tremor gently, it feels good. Warm.

So that's something.

He draws back enough to show Fjord a shaky, relieved smile. His arms both wrap around Fjord's waist, anchoring himself as much as keeping Fjord close. ]

Better than okay, actually.

[ He returns those nuzzles with a bubbling up of affection he hasn't known he could show this way, rubbing his beard over wherever tickles Caleb's neck the most. When he looks up he smiles widely, eyes crinkling. ]

I'm sorry I messed up your trousers, and ... everything else you're wearing.

[ With a glance down at the come spattered over Caleb's shirt, he lowers an arm to shield his persistent hard-on as an afterthought. He kisses him slowly if allowed, savouring how it feels to taste one of his best friends. ]

I'm glad you enjoyed that too.

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