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“How’s that?” Fjord asks, tugging the last knot gently snug and leaning back to admire his handiwork. Caleb hums, his eyes half closed. He tests the red rope and shivers when it holds him, firm but soft on his bare skin.
“Gut,” he mutters, and lifts his head to meet Fjord’s gaze. Fjord smiles. A blush has crept across his cheeks, down his throat, and disappeared under the neckline of his tunic. He leans in to rest his forehead against Caleb’s and reaches to free Caleb’s hair from its customary leather tie.
“So good,” Fjord says as he cups his hand around Caleb’s head and gently scratches his scalp. Caleb leans into Fjord, letting a wave of warm quiet pull him under as Fjord frames his face with kisses. The ropes press against him with every deep breath he takes. Fjord traces the lines he’s drawn across Caleb’s body.
“What do you want darlin’?” Fjord asks before Caleb’s too far gone. Caleb swallows. He flexes his hands where they’re bound behind his back. The dual sensation of being held and being exposed rocks him, but Fjord is there—his steady hands, his steady voice.
“I want to taste you.”
Fjord whispers a flustered curse. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
Caleb watches Fjord strip, and swallows again when Fjord reveals himself, scarred and bulkier than he used to be when they spent so much of their lives on the road and chasing monsters for meager pay. Fjord maneuvers them to the appropriate positions, then gets down on Caleb’s level and kisses him. He runs his thumb along Caleb’s jaw and groans quietly when Caleb opens up for him.
“Drop this if you need to stop,” Fjord says in the space between them. His breath is warm on Caleb’s collarbone while his other hand folds a smooth stone into Caleb’s palm. Caleb nods.
Fjord sits on the edge of the bed and gently threads his fingers through Caleb’s hair. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Caleb leans forward. Fjord spreads his legs to give him room, and shivers when Caleb presses soft kisses to his inner thighs. Caleb avoids direct contact until Fjord is struggling to control his breathing. Then he licks a lazy stripe up Fjord’s length, tasting the faintest hint of soap from their bath.
Fjord is still. His hand is relaxed in Caleb’s hair, no more than a guiding presence as Caleb works up to taking as much of Fjord into his mouth as he can.
“Fuck.” Fjord can’t quite stifle his groan as Caleb bobs shallowly, then goes deeper, slower, lingering until he has to pull back to breathe. He glances up at Fjord, whose slit pupils have gone wide as he watches.
“So good,” Fjord repeats, and Caleb shuts his eyes. “So perfect.”
Caleb exhales, leans forward again, and focuses on the task at hand until Fjord tugs him off. Caleb’s jaw is pleasantly sore. He licks a bit of precum from the corner of his mouth. Fjord keens. He joins Caleb on the pillows cushioning his knees and kisses him just this side of roughly.
“What else do you want?” Fjord asks. His voice is ruined. “Want to give you everything, anything.” He skims his knuckles down Caleb’s chest and brushes the leaking head of Caleb's cock. Caleb gasps, then lets himself pitch forward. Fjord catches him.
Caleb tucks his face into Fjord’s neck. “Please,” he groans, bucking into Fjord’s hand when it wraps around him.
Fjord circles his thumb over Caleb’s tip, dragging slick down to ease the way. “Please what?”
Caleb shudders. “Fuck me,” he breathes, and groans again when Fjord’s hand tightens around him. Fjord pulls back to kiss him. Caleb whines at the loss of contact, and if Fjord weren’t so far gone himself he might have chuckled. Instead, he rearranges them again so they’re on the bed. He lays Caleb back, mindful of his shoulders and his hands as he settles him against the pillows. Caleb writhes, tugging on the ropes crisscrossing his body, bucking his hips into nothingness.
“Easy there,” Fjord soothes. He plucks the bottle of lube off the bedside table and drags his hands down Caleb’s body. “You still with me?”
“Yes,” Caleb hisses, but he does his best to be still. He flutters his eyes open and finds Fjord smiling down at him, impossibly fond. Fjord hums when Caleb’s eyes meet his.
“Still comfortable?” Fjord asks as he rubs warm palms over Caleb’s bound thighs and massages his straining hip flexors. “Nothing’s pinching or cramping?”
“Nein,” Caleb pants. “Please, Fjord.”
“I’ve got you,” Fjord promises. He bends over Caleb and kisses down his chest, nipping occasionally at his pale, freckled skin to draw shaky inhales from the wizard.
Caleb shouts when Fjord noses his cock. Fjord wraps his hands around Caleb’s thighs, spreading them, anchoring him, and swallows Caleb down until Caleb’s shaking.
Fjord brings him to the edge, then stops, worries a bruise into Caleb’s inner thigh, builds him up again, and gives the bruise a twin on Caleb’s other thigh. When he stops short of Caleb’s release a third time, Caleb thrashes. He’s begging: half Common, half Zemnian, all nonsense.
Fjord rises up, bracketing Caleb’s shoulders with his arms as he rests some of his weight on Caleb and kisses him. Caleb can taste his own desire and leans into Fjord, hungry. Fjord coaxes him back down. He lets Caleb take more of his weight as he brushes hair out of Caleb’s face.
“You alright?” Fjord asks. Caleb can feel Fjord's words rumble through him where their chests meet. He nods, shaky, but honest.
Fjord kisses Caleb’s forehead. “You’re doing so well.”
Caleb closes his eyes again. He focuses on the heat between them and the familiar baritone of Fjord’s voice.
“Perfect, every time, darlin. You still want to go ahead with your plan? M’happy to get you off like this too.” Fjord rolls his hips into Caleb’s and Caleb doesn’t stand a chance of muffling his moan.
“Next time,” Caleb proposes.
Fjord has regained himself enough to chuckle. He sits up, slow, gentle, careful to keep his hand or his knee pressed against Caleb—a lighthouse to follow as a sweet haze lulls Caleb to quietness without dulling the ache between his legs.
“Ready?” Fjord asks a moment later, circling slick fingers around Caleb. Caleb nods. He lifts his hips in what is partially encouragement, partially demand.
Fjord murmurs praise as he presses in. Caleb tempers his whine. He’d prepared himself earlier; Fjord could take him now if he wanted, they both know that.
Sometimes, Fjord does, but tonight he takes it slow. He keeps his free hand on Caleb’s hip to steady him as he adds a finger, then crooks up. Caleb exhales a babble of Zemnian—he thinks. Proper words are beyond him now.
Caleb loses track of time while Fjord works him open, pausing every now and then to stroke Caleb’s cock until Caleb is pleading, breathless, not sure how much longer he can balance on the edge.
“You’re so good Caleb,” Fjord says as he lines himself up. He presses open-mouthed kisses to Caleb’s throat as he nudges in slow, just as slow as he’d been with his fingers, until his hips are flush with Caleb’s.
“Take a few deep breaths for me,” Fjord urges, because Caleb’s jaw is clenching in time to his rapid breathing. “Too much?”
Caleb shakes his head. It’s perfect. It’s everything. He never wants Fjord to stop, but he’s going to explode if he doesn’t get more.
“Alright. Fuck. I’ve got you, gonna make you feel so good.” Fjord sets an easy pace, grinding deep, burying Caleb in the tide of it. He stays close, whispers devotions between kissing Caleb’s freckles and his collarbone and his trembling lips.
“More,” Caleb finally groans, the word punching out of him between thrusts. “Please, please, Fjord, I can’t-”
Fjord doesn’t need to be asked twice. He knows Caleb—knows what he likes. Caleb likes being pushed; he likes proving something, but he also likes to have the weight of ambition taken off his shoulders, just for a little while. Fjord finds an angle and a speed that has Caleb crying out, pleading and praising in equal amounts as he rocks to meet Fjord. He’s sweating and shaking, but Fjord has him. Fjord won’t let him drown.
“Love you so much,” Fjord purrs when he feels Caleb tense up. “Go ahead, let go for me.” He meets Caleb with one more thrust and Caleb is undone. He tips his head back, arching into Fjord’s chest, straining against his bonds as he comes and colors dance behind his eyes. Fjord follows him a second later, gasping Caleb’s name.
They’re both frozen for a moment. Fjord comes back to himself first. Caleb’s eyes are closed and his breathing has slowed, but he huffs when Fjord pulls out.
Fjord kisses his cheek in apology. “Gonna untie you now,” he says. “But you take your time. You were stunning. You did so well.”
Caleb doesn’t respond. He’s told Fjord that he doesn’t always hear him when he’s like this, but Fjord always talks to him anyways.
Caleb’s legs are freed first, unfolded and then massaged to work the worst of the stiffness out before Caleb’s aware enough to feel it. Fjord apologizes quietly when he has to sit Caleb up to get his arms and wrists untied. He props Caleb against his shoulder and smiles when Caleb tries to press clumsy kisses to his neck.
Fjord lays Caleb back down. “I’ll be right back, just getting a cloth to clean up.”
Caleb's eyes are still closed when Fjord returns with a washcloth and a basin of warm water, but he hums gratefully when Fjord wipes the slick and the cum from his legs and stomach. Finally done, Fjord sets everything aside and lays down beside Caleb. He pulls the blankets over them both. Caleb rolls into Fjord's embrace, burrowing against Fjord’s chest.
Fjord holds him close. He props his chin over Caleb’s head and sweeps his hand up and down Caleb’s back. Caleb sometimes falls asleep like this, which is fine. Fjord likes knowing he can bring him that kind of peace. They’re still a little sweaty, but they’ve slept while encrusted with ooze and blood and shit before. This is nothing.
Caleb doesn’t fall asleep. Eventually, he buoys back to awareness, lifts his head, and reaches up to cup Fjord’s jaw.
“Hey there,” Fjord greets, half asleep himself. Caleb blinks at him, blissed out, warm, loved. He stretches up for a lazy kiss, which Fjord is happy to indulge.
“Hallo.”
“You feel okay?”
“Mmm. Very. You?”
“Better than.”
“Gut.” Caleb ducks back under Fjord’s chin, satisfied.
Fjord chuckles.