Housewarming Party Love & Deepspace
You can find this fic on AO3 Fem Reader x Caleb (No use of Y/n) Explicit One Shot
Summary: Gideon's invited you and Caleb to his housewarming party. It’s a rare chance to see Caleb relaxed, teasing, and entirely yours. For once, there's no mission, no duty, no danger waiting around the corner. And somehow, you end up alone in the bathroom together like college kids at a party.
It is long, but it’s all a build up. so if you'd like to skip to the smutty part, just search or scroll the page for the xxx line break and it'll getcha there.
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Apparently, Caleb has opinions about housewarming gifts.
This is not something you expect to learn today.
Late afternoon light cascades through the passenger window of his car, spilling across your lap as he frowns down at the neatly wrapped box resting there. Outside, Gideon’s new, very large, home glows against the afternoon sky.
Caleb’s thumb grazes the inside of your thigh absentmindedly, just below the hem of your dress.
You place your hand over his and say, “It’s just a plant, Caleb.”
“It’s a responsibility.”
“It’s fake.”
“Even worse.”
You stare at him with a look of confusion.
“A long time ago, an ex-girlfriend of his gave him a fake plant. He watered it for a whole year before he realized it was fake because it hadn’t grown a single inch.”
Your hand flies up to cover your mouth as a stifled laugh slips through.
“No way,” you giggle.
“I know, right?” Caleb glances over, one hand still resting on the steering wheel, his expression so openly serious that it takes everything in you not to laugh harder.
“You realize most people just say congratulations and hand over a bottle of wine, right?”
“Gideon would find a way to roast me about gifting him wine.”
“Well, I brought bourbon. Expensive kind, too,” you playfully smack his hand on your thigh, “And, he’s your friend.”
“Exactly,” Caleb drawls.
He lifts his hand and taps the corner of the box with one finger. “Which means I know what he’s capable of.”
You look down at the gift again. Inside is a small potted succulent in a ceramic planter.
The box is wrapped with a ribbon you had attempted to tie twice on your own because Caleb claimed the first bow looked “pitiful.”
At the time, you thought he was only teasing.
That was until you saw him watch at least three separate videos on how to tie a perfect ribbon.
Now you’re starting to suspect Gideon’s housewarming party has brought out a side of him you rarely get to see.
Not Colonel Caleb. Not childhood Caleb.
Not the man who can calculate risk faster than you can blink, or the boy who used to shield you from rain with his own body and pretend he wasn’t cold.
This Caleb is restless in the smallest ways.
You can feel it in the way his thumb brushes over your thigh, tracing a quiet rhythm that isn’t just his usual touchy self. It is too repetitive, too absentminded.
Nervous, maybe?
You tilt your head at him.
“Are you worried he won’t like it?”
Caleb scoffs immediately. “Puh-lease.”
“Caleb.”
“What?”
“You retied the bow countless times after my bows weren’t up to code.”
“Well, it was crooked.” He says it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“And you hand picked the color.”
“Because it matched the pot. Grams would be furious if it mismatched.”
“You also said he doesn’t deserve a good ribbon.”
“He doesn’t. I stand by that.” His shoulders lift in an exaggerated display of indifference.
Your smile breaks before you can stop it.
Caleb catches it, and the corner of his mouth lifts despite himself.
He leans closer, stealing some of the space between you until the light scent of his cologne and the faint chill of the car AC cling to your skin.
“You’re enjoyin’ this too much, pipsqueak.” His voice drops low in that teasing way he does.
“I’m enjoying learning that Gideon makes you fussy.”
“He does not make me fussy.”
“Mhm, sure.” You wear a smug smile as you poke his shoulder. “Whatever you say.”
You catalog this for future teasing.
Caleb leans in further, until he is only a few inches from your face.
“If you want to know who makes me truly fussy, I can remind you.”
The tone in his voice alone is dangerous, nevermind the expression on his face. You’ve heard and seen both too many times to not know what he’s thinking.
Your legs tense just slightly, excitement sparking low in your stomach from the effortless way only he knows how to rile up in you.
His hand gives your thigh a soft squeeze in acknowledgement. His head tilts just slightly as that knowing look settles over his face, curious and entirely too aware of what he’s doing to you.
He brings his free hand up to your chin and gently takes hold before placing a light kiss to your lips.
The sound of a phone buzzing breaks the moment. You reach to grab it, but Caleb stops you.
“Mm-mm.” He says it disapprovingly, his thumb still resting beneath your chin. “I want one more.”
You quickly forget about the phone as he leans in and kisses you again, taking his time. His mouth moves against yours slowly, like he has no intention of letting Gideon, the party, or the phone interrupt this moment.
His tongue playfully grazes your lip, and you give in to him with embarrassing ease, suddenly forgetting the original reason you are sitting outside Gideon’s house at all.
The phone buzzes again, much to Caleb’s dismay.
He groans and reaches for it, his eyes dropping to the screen.
Gideon: You guys here?
Gideon: If you two are making out in the driveway, at least use protection.
You stare at Caleb’s screen and simply blink at the text.
Caleb exhales through his nose, slow and purposefully measured.
“I changed my mind,” he says, reaching for the gift. His finger loops through the perfectly wrapped ribbon, and with one effortless flick, he undoes it. “He gets no ribbon.”
He looks up to the sky wistfully, “Sorry, Grams. He asked for this one.”
You shake your head with an eye roll, patting his thigh. “Come on, let’s go.”
Caleb grabs the gift from your lap while you reach for the bourbon tucked on the floorboard. Before you can move for the handle, your door swings open with a subtle pull of his Evol.
“Showing off?” you ask, giving him a look.
He walks around the front of the car and offers you his hand.
“Mmm, nope.” His fingers close warmly around yours as he helps you out. “Just happy you’re here with me.”
The sweetness of it catches you for half a second, bringing a smile to your face, and the two of you make your way to the front door.
Gideon answers within seconds, a huge smile already plastered across his face.
“Caleb,” he greets, excitement clear across his features. “I was starting to think you might have gotten lost, which would’ve been odd, considering how great you are at navigation.”
Caleb shakes his head with a laugh.
“Yeahhh, you might’ve gotten me confused with you, big guy. Too many concussions in the combat room lately?”
Gideon laughs and steps forward, pulling Caleb into a big, firm hug before turning to you.
“And look who it is!” His smile brightens. He leans forward to give you a much gentler hug.
“Did the birthday go off without a hitch?” He says quietly to just you.
“Yes, thanks to you." You reply, smile plastered across your features as you recall Caleb's birthday last month. "Congratulations on the home. It looks so lovely.”
“Oh, just wait.” Gideon steps back and motions for the two of you to follow.
“Come on, quick tour before we head out back.”
It takes you less than five minutes inside Gideon’s house to realize he is one of the few people alive who can annoy Caleb more than you, on purpose, and survive the experience.
At one point in time, you had genuinely thought Caleb hated the guy by the way he'd respond to his Moments post comments.
Now, watching them trade insults as Gideon proudly guides you from room to room on the first floor, you realize their teasing is its own kind of love language. Every jab lands with the precision of two people who know exactly where, and just how much, to poke to get the right response. You find yourself in a constant state of giggles and head shakes at the blow for blow exchanges.
Seeing Caleb like this, smiling and laughing, was nice.
Once the three of you arrive in the large, marble kitchen, you offer Gideon the bag of bourbon.
He pulls the bottle out, his eyes lighting with interest.
“Oh… now this is nice.” His grin stretches almost ear to ear. “You got yourself a good one here, Caleb.”
“Believe me, I know.” Caleb glances at you with a sly wink.
Gideon moves to the cabinet and pulls out a few sipping glasses.
“You two want some?”
You politely decline, saying bourbon is a little too heavy for you. Gideon offers you wine instead, which you accept with a grateful smile.
Then he turns to Caleb.
“How about you?”
“Nah, I’m all good on that. Not much of a drinker.”
“Really…” Gideon says, deadpan.
He looks to you with a very clear you hearing this? expression.
“Cause I remember—”
Caleb cuts him off immediately.
“Alright, fine, fine. I’ll take one glass.”
“Heh. Perfect.” Gideon smiles like he won something and pours one for him.
While he's pouring, Caleb mouths to you, "Already drunk."
"Really?" You mouth back with a surprised look.
Caleb is mid head-nod when Gideon turns to hand him the glass.
His poker face smile returns with frightening speed as he accepts the drink.
You smile at the interaction, keeping your laugh tucked down tight.
The three of you toast to a new home and good health before taking your first sips before Caleb finally presents the boxed succulent to Gideon.
Gideon looks down at the box with a raised eyebrow, then slowly shifts his attention to the ribbon poking out of Caleb’s front pocket.
“Did you take off the ribbon?”
Caleb smiles, pulling it free and swirling it in front of Gideon’s face. "Wouldn't you like to know."
Gideon’s expression shifts into something dangerously pleased, knowing immediately it's due to the text he sent.
“You practiced tying that bow, didn’t you?”
Your head turns slowly toward Caleb.
Caleb’s smile does not move. “No.”
“He did,” you say at once.
“She’s a liar. Has been since childhood." Caleb keeps his eyes on Gideon while his hand lifts to ruffle your hair. "Don’t listen to her.”
“Caleb!” you complain, smacking his hand away from your head.
Gideon laughs at the scene, but there's something softer beneath it. His gaze moves between the two of you, lingering for just a second.
“It’s good to see you two.” His voice eases into something more sincere. “You look happy.”
“We are,” you both say in unison.
You and Caleb turn to each other, surprised smiles breaking across your faces at the synchronicity.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Gideon says, smiling. Then, the softness gives way to mischief again.
“Speaking of… everyone’s out back, and I’ve got a girlfriend to introduce.”
“Ohhh, this ought to be good.” Caleb’s grin turns wicked. “Who’s the unlucky girl?”
Gideon rolls his eyes. “Please. Anyone would be lucky to date me. I’m a catch, Caleb.”
“This way,” he motions and leads the two of you through a set of wide glass doors and out into the backyard.
The space opens up into a sprawling lawn so perfectly kept it looks almost unreal, every blade of grass trimmed and even beneath the warm glow of string lights hanging overhead.
The sun has started to sink lower in the sky, staining everything in soft orange and pink hues. Music drifts through the air, mixing with laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of cheering from a group playing some kind of drinking game near the patio.
There are people scattered everywhere. Some gathered around high-top tables. Some lounging near the outdoor fireplace. A few dancing barefoot in the grass like the party has already moved past polite housewarming and straight into celebration.
You glance around, eyebrows lifting despite yourself.
“Gideon,” you say slowly, “this is basically a small festival.”
He grins, clearly pleased with himself. “Told ya.”
Caleb hums beside you. “Compensating for something?”
“Yeah. My excellent taste and large social circle.”
“Must be exhausting.”
“Only for the people trying to keep up,” Gideon replies as he teasingly elbows Caleb.
Their bickering continues as Gideon introduces you both around, and you do your best to remember names as they come.
Most of them are friendly, curious, and pleasantly surprised to see Caleb there. A few recognize him immediately, their eyes lighting with that particular respect people have when they know just enough about someone’s reputation.
Caleb handles it all with ease.
A polite smile here, a brief handshake there, a dry comment tossed toward Gideon whenever he gets too smug.
Every so often, Caleb’s hand finds the small of your back. A quiet point of contact that says he knows where you are, and that you're with him.
Eventually, Gideon slows near a woman standing by one of the patio tables, laughing at something another guest says. She's beautiful in a warm, effortless way, with dark hair falling over one shoulder and a glass of wine held loosely in her hand.
The moment she sees Gideon, her whole face brightens.
“There you are,” she says, stepping toward him. “I was starting to wonder if you got lost in your own house.”
Caleb’s mouth curves immediately. “He’s always been bad about that.”
“Don’t start,” Gideon says just as quickly.
She laughs, then turns her attention to you and Caleb.
“The name’s Ruby, and you must be the famous Caleb,” she says, her eyes sweeping over him with amused interest. “I’ve heard a lot.”
Caleb looks at Gideon. “All lies, I’m sure.”
“Most of them,” Gideon says.
Ruby’s gaze shifts to you, and her smile softens instantly. “And you must be the one he actually wanted me to meet.”
Something about the warmth in her tone puts you at ease immediately, and you can't help but to smile back.
“That depends. What did Gideon say?”
“That you’re lovely, smart, and somehow willing to put up with Caleb.”
You glance toward Caleb. “Well, one of those is generous.”
Caleb gives you a look.
Ruby laughs and reaches out to gently take your hand. “Oh, I like you.”
Within minutes, Ruby pulls you into conversation like you've known each other much longer than you have. She asks about your work, about how you and Caleb know Gideon, about Caleb's birthday surprise Gideon was very proud of helping with.
Her energy is bright without being overwhelming and playful without feeling performative. It doesn’t take long for you to understand exactly why Gideon looks at her the way he does.
You catch Caleb watching the way Gideon looks at Ruby, and you can tell he sees it too.
Ruby leans closer to you, lowering her voice like she's sharing a secret.
“He’s pretending he’s relaxed, but he cleaned the patio three times this morning.”
Your mouth drops in light surprise as you ask, “Three?”
Gideon’s head snaps over. “Ruby.”
Caleb turns slowly toward him, eyes lighting with immediate interest.
“Oh?”
“Don’t,” Gideon warns with narrowed eyes.
Caleb’s grin sharpens. “No, no. Please continue.”
Ruby smiles into her glass. “He also made me inspect the lawn he spent five hours tending to.”
You look out over the immaculate yard again. “That explains a lot, actually.”
Gideon groans, dragging a hand down his face. “I knew introducing you two was a mistake.”
“Too late,” Ruby says, looping her arm through yours. “I’m stealing her.”
Caleb’s hand slips from your back as she tugs you gently away.
He lets you go without protest, but his gaze follows.
She walks you near one of the patio tables, tucked just far enough from the louder parts of the party where conversation comes easily. She asks you about Caleb with a warm curiosity, smiling into her glass when you tell her you have known him since you were children.
“That explains it,” she says.
You tilt your head. “Explains what?”
“The way he looks at you.” Her eyes dart over your shoulder for half a second before returning to yours. “Even when you’re a yard apart, he’s got one eye on you.”
Across the yard, Caleb is still standing with Gideon near the patio with one hand tucked in his pocket, the other loosely holding his drink. He seems genuinely relaxed and enjoying himself.
His attention drifts back to you as if on command.
The moment your eyes meet, his expression softens.
Ruby follows your gaze, then smiles. “Yeah,” she says lightly. “Definitely explains it.”
You look back at her, cheeks warming. “He’s not subtle, is he?”
Ruby laughs. “Not even a little.”
Caleb catches the shape of your smile from across the lawn, and something in his chest loosens.
He doesn't think he'll ever get tired of seeing you like this. Relaxed and laughing, with a wine glass in hand. Sunset in your hair, safe beneath a canopy of string lights with no alarms going off, no orders waiting, no weight pressing against either of your shoulders.
Just you, enjoying yourself in a pretty dress at a friend’s party.
Gideon glances between Caleb and the direction of his gaze, then snorts. “You are so far gone it’s embarrassing.”
Caleb takes a slow sip of bourbon without looking at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.”
“I’m enjoying the party.”
“You’re enjoying her enjoying the party.”
Caleb’s mouth curves faintly, but he doesn’t deny it.
Ruby leans a little closer to you, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “For the record, I think it’s sweet.”
“What is?”
“That he’s pretending not to hover.”
You laugh, unable to help it. “That’s Caleb.”
“Mm. Well.” Ruby sets her glass down and offers you both hands, her smile brightening with sudden mischief. “You dance?”
“What?" You blink at her, then add, "Not well.”
“Perfect. Me either.” Before you can protest, Ruby takes your hands and pulls you toward the open patch of lawn where a few people have started dancing.
The music shifts into something slower but still light enough to keep the mood playful.
Hand in hers, she spins you once, and you both let out a laugh when you stumble half a step before catching your balance.
Across the yard, Caleb’s watching with piqued interest.
“You know, if you stare any harder, the grass might catch fire.” Gideon says with a chuckle.
Caleb takes a slow sip of bourbon. “I’m watching the party.”
“You’re a menace.”
“Pfft. As if you aren't looking at Ruby the same way.” He takes another sip of bourbon. “Don’t forget, I know you just as well.”
As if summoned by their intense gazes on you and Ruby, a man near the patio starts walking toward you.
He's not doing anything particularly wrong.
He has a drink in one hand, his posture loose and friendly as he steps off the stone path and onto the grass. His attention is clearly on you and Ruby.
Caleb’s expression does not change, but his fingers shift just slightly around his glass.
The man takes one more step, then his foot catches on absolutely nothing.
He stumbles forward with a surprised yelp, catching himself on the back of a chair as his drink spills on his shirt. A few people nearby laugh, and he laughs too, brushing it off with an embarrassed wave before retreating back toward the patio.
Gideon slowly turns his head toward Caleb.
Caleb stares ahead, perfectly innocent.
“Really, Caleb?”
Caleb takes a sip.
“Uneven lawn.”
“My lawn is perfect.”
“Mhm. Might need to hire a guy.”
Gideon’s mouth twitches like he is trying very hard not to laugh. “Old habits?”
Caleb’s gaze turns briefly back to you as Ruby twirls you again and his expression softens.
Then he shrugs, clinking his glass lightly against Gideons, “Die hard.”
Gideon laughs under his breath, shaking his head. “Well, if you’re already in guard dog mode, there’s one person you might want to keep an eye on.”
Caleb’s eyes shift toward him.
“Xander,” Gideon says. “Nice guy. Harmless, mostly. But when he drinks, he gets flirty and doesn’t always understand the concept of personal space. Especially when he doesn’t realize someone is taken.”
Caleb’s smile remains easy. “Is that so?”
Gideon points at him with his glass. “Do not send the man through my patio. This is a fun evening now.”
“I would never.”
"Behave.”
“Give me some credit” Caleb says.
Gideon looks at him for a long second, then sighs. “Yeah, yeah.”
A little while later, Ruby waves Gideon over to settle some debate about music, and Caleb’s glass is nearly empty. Gideon offers to refill it inside, and Caleb agrees with an easy nod, though his eyes linger on you for just a moment longer before he follows Gideon back into the house.
You notice him go, but Ruby pulls your attention back before you can think too much about it.
“No looking worried,” she says, squeezing your hands. “He’ll survive ten minutes without you.”
You laugh. “I wasn’t worried.”
“Mhm.”
“You sound like him.”
“Good. Then I’m already fluent.”
You and Ruby alternate between talking, drinking, and dancing.
When she pulls you back into a dance, it’s with less with skill and more with enthusiasm. The drinks have pleasantly warmed you, and Ruby is easy to fall into rhythm with, all laughter and bright energy, and you find yourself relaxing into the warmth of the evening.
“Ruby,” a man greets, smiling as you two are mid-step. “You’ve been hiding over here.”
Ruby turns, holding one of your hands mid dance. “Xander. You made it.”
He's handsome in a polished, effortless sort of way, with the kind of smile that probably works on people who do not know any better. His gaze lands on you, and his interest sharpens.
“And who’s this?”
Ruby opens her mouth to answer, but the music shifts just as she laughs and spins you outward.
You barely have time to process the movement before Xander steps in smoothly, catching your hand as you turn.
“Oh—” you start, surprise evident on your face.
He pulls you lightly into the next beat like it's the most natural thing in the world.
“Careful,” he says with a grin. “Wouldn’t want you getting dizzy.”
For one full second, your brain short-circuits.
Not because anything is wrong, exactly, but one moment you are dancing with Ruby, and the next you're holding hands with a stranger who clearly thinks he has made a very charming entrance.
You glance toward Ruby, who looks amused, if slightly apologetic.
“Xander,” she says, a warning tucked beneath the sweetness of her voice.
“What?” he asks, still smiling. “I’m being friendly.”
Before you can decide how to politely untangle yourself, the glass doors open again.
Across the yard, Caleb steps back outside with Gideon beside him, and his eyes find you immediately. He’s witnessed the whole exchange, and his eyes drop to Xander’s hand holding yours.
He calmly sets his glass down on the nearest table without looking away.
Gideon follows his gaze and immediately mutters, “Oh, boy. Not good.”
"I'm behaving," Caleb tells Gideon casually as he walks over with the same calm confidence he carries into every room. No rush, no raised voice, no obvious tension.
Just that easy smile.
There’s never been a challenge involving you that Caleb wasn’t willing to step up to.
Ruby sees him coming before you do, and Xander, still unaware of the storm approaching in broad daylight, spins you away with a flourish.
Caleb steps in and catches you perfectly on beat.
His hand closes around yours with perfect timing, warm and familiar, and he pulls you back into him so smoothly that your body follows before your mind catches up.
Caleb dips you back and your breath catches.
One arm supports your back, firm and secure, while the other keeps your hand in his. The world tilts into string lights, sunset, and the unfairly handsome curve of his smile hovering above you.
For a second, all you can think is, Thank the heavens.
Because truly—
What even just happened?
Caleb’s thumb brushes once over your knuckles.
Then his eyes lift past you to Xander.
“Don’t mind if I steal my girlfriend back, do ya?” he asks. His voice is surprisingly light and smile friendly enough.
Xander blinks and Ruby presses her lips together, visibly fighting a laugh.
Gideon laughs outright, one hand braced against the patio table across the yard.
Xander lifts both hands in surrender, his smile turning sheepish. “Didn’t know she was taken.”
“Happily,” Caleb says simply.
Still dipped in his arms, you feel your face heat.
Caleb looks back down at you, and just like that, the edge in him softens into something warmer.
“You alright, pipsqueak?”
You nod, still trying to recover your dignity. “I think so.”
“You think so?”
“I lost track around the first surprise handoff.”
His smile grows, pleased and entirely too smug. He pulls you upright with effortless care, keeping you close even after your feet settle beneath you again.
Ruby immediately turns toward Gideon, eyes bright.
“Aww. Gideon, dance with me like that.”
“Absolutely not. I have a mortgage now. I can’t afford to throw my back out trying to compete with that.” He tilts his glass at Caleb.
Ruby rolls her eyes with a warm smile.
Caleb laughs under his breath, still holding your hand. You glance up at him, catching the faint satisfaction tucked beneath his calm expression.
“You enjoyed that a little too much,” you murmur.
His gaze meets yours.
“Mmm. Maybe a little.”
“Jealous?”
Caleb’s smile does not falter.
“You know me better than that, pips.”
You give him a look and he leans closer, his voice dropping just enough for only you to hear.
“Just reminding people what’s mine.”
You blush faintly, swatting his chest but the words settle between you, low and warm.
Just reminding people what’s mine.
Your fingers tighten around his without meaning to.
Caleb notices, of course. His gaze lowers to where your hand is still caught in his, then back up to your face. The corner of his mouth lifts, slow and knowing.
“What?” he murmurs.
“Nothing.”
“Mhm.”
You look away first, pretending to be very interested in Ruby trying to convince Gideon to dance despite his dramatic concerns about homeownership and spinal health.
Caleb's thumb begins to brush over your knuckles in a slow, absent rhythm. Back and forth. Back and forth. Right over the place where Xander's hand had been.
It shouldn't affect you as much as it does.
It's such a small thing.
Barely anything at all.
And yet something about it sends warmth curling low in your stomach.
Maybe it's the bourbon-soft edge in his voice. Maybe it's the way he handled the whole thing without ever losing that calm, effortless control.
Maybe it's the fact that everyone else saw a harmless little interruption, while you know Caleb well enough to recognize the warning hidden beneath his smile.
The fact he hadn't raised his voice, and hadn't needed to, made it so much worse.
Or better...
Definitely better.
"You're staring," Caleb says.
You blink, realizing you are, in fact, staring directly at him.
"No, I'm not."
His smile deepens. "Mhmm."
You roll your eyes, but your smile ruins the effect. The wine in your glass has nearly disappeared, and your skin feels pleasantly warm from the music, the dancing, and the way Caleb is still standing close.
You lift your glass from the nearby table. "I need a refill."
"I'll get it."
"I can get it."
"I know." His hand slides to the small of your back, guiding you forward. "I'm coming with you."
You give him a sidelong look. "Still in guard dog mode?"
"Me?" His expression stays perfectly innocent. "Never."
"Liar."
"Have been since childhood," he says easily.
You laugh despite yourself at the callback, and he smiles like that was the point.
xxx
The two of you slip away from the others and step back through the glass doors into the house.
The kitchen glows in warm overhead light, untouched except for the bottles lined along the counter and a half-empty tray of snacks.
The sudden quiet inside feels almost intimate after the music and laughter outside.
Caleb takes your glass and moves toward the fridge.
You follow, but barely make it two steps before his hand whips back and catches your waist, pulling you in front of him.
"Caleb." You try to sound stern.
You really do.
"What?"
Then his hand drops lower, giving you a shameless squeeze as he reaches around you for the fridge handle like this is simply the most natural thing in the world.
"Oh my god, Caleb." You smack lightly at his chest, unable to stop the laugh that slips out. "We are in Gideon's kitchen."
"Mhm." He opens the fridge and glances inside. "Very nice kitchen."
"That is not the point."
"Isn't it?" He looks over at you, eyes bright with mischief. "You said his house was lovely."
"I didn't mean you should grope me in it."
He hums thoughtfully.
"A misunderstanding, then."
You shake your head, biting back a smile as he pulls out the chilled bottle of wine Gideon offered you earlier. He sets it on the counter, then guides you over with a hand at your waist, positioning you against the smooth stone. He deftly removes the cork with one hand and carefully pours the wine.
The whole time, his hand remains at your hip. At your waist. On the small of your back. Possessive in a way he only gets when he's pretending very hard that he's not affected.
You lean back against the counter, watching him. "You know, for someone who wasn't jealous, you're acting very jealous."
Caleb slides the bottle back onto the counter and picks up your glass.
"I was behaving."
His hand slides down from your hip, trailing to the inside of your thigh through your dress. He gives your thigh a firm squeeze.
You try to ignore the tingling sensation it gives you.
"You tripped a man."
"Ah, you saw that?"
He's looking down at you with a glint in his eyes, the corner of his mouth curved up, utterly shameless. His hand, now under your dress, begins to trail lightly between your legs.
Your breath hitches at his touch.
"You stole me mid-spin," you continue despite your ears turning red.
"Right time, right place." His says simply, his hand rising up your thigh. "And, you looked like you needed help," he adds.
"I did," you admit, though you're not entirely sure what you're responding to at this point.
His eyes drop to your mouth as his fingers brush just over the thin, already dampened lace between your legs.
"Oh, pips," he drawls.
He steps closer and sets the wine beside you on the counter.
"You liked it." His voice is quieter, a rougher edge taking hold.
Your pulse jumps.
Sure, you could deny it.
And you probably should deny it, if only to save yourself the embarrassment of how easily he reads you.
But under Caleb's steady gaze and the heat of his body so close to you, the truth sits too plainly to hide.
His finger brushes up and down the lace between your legs, and all you can respond with is, "Maybe a little."
His mouth curves.
"There she is."
You swallow, trying very hard not to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much that tone gets to you.
Unfortunately, Caleb has never needed much to work with.
He leans in, his free hand rising to your jaw while the other continues light brushes against the lace. His thumb brushes lightly beneath your chin, tilting your face toward his.
"Should I apologize?"
"For what?"
His fingers trace firm, circular motions over the lace.
You breathe a shaky inhale in and out.
His smile turns faintly wicked.
"I'll take that as a no."
"Caleb—"
His name barely leaves your mouth before his lips are lightly pressed against yours.
Outside, the music continues. Someone laughs loudly near the patio doors and the sound causes you to jump.
You're suddenly pulled back to the reality that you're not the only two people at this house.
Caleb pulls back with a small huff of laughter, completely unfazed.
"You okay?"
His eyes darker now, fixed on you like he's memorizing every tiny reaction.
Even when he gets like this, even when his restraint thins and that possessive edge slips through, he still checks. Still waits. Still makes sure you're with him, not just caught in the current of him.
He's grown a lot over the last few years.
You nod and whisper, "Yes."
His hand raises to your waist and it tightens for half a second before easing again.
"Good."
You open your mouth to say something else, something probably reckless, but your bladder chooses that exact moment to remind you of the wine.
"What?"
"I need the bathroom."
He exhales a laugh, low and disbelieving, and drops his head, shaking it.
"Sorry," you laugh.
"No, no." He steps back, though his hand lingers at your waist until the last possible second. "Perfect timing."
You grab your wine, still laughing under your breath, and start toward the hallway near the kitchen. The bathroom door is shut, light glowing underneath, with the faint sound of someone moving around inside.
You stop in front of it and Caleb, following behind you, hums.
"There's another one upstairs."
"You know that?"
"I used it earlier."
"With Gideon?"
He gives you a look. "Not with Gideon."
"You know what I meant."
"Do I?"
You smack his arm as he laughs, then he lets his hand find yours again.
"C'mon," he says. "I'll show you."
The upstairs hallway is quieter, the noise from the party fading into a low hum beneath your feet. The house feels even larger up here, somehow. It's all rich wood, soft lighting, and framed photos Gideon has hung slightly crooked on purpose just to annoy someone.
Caleb leads you to a bathroom near the end of the hall and stops outside the door.
"There," he says, leaning one shoulder against the wall.
"Safe travels."
You stare at him.
"Safe travels?"
"It's a big house."
You give him a look and step inside, shutting the door behind you.
The bathroom is annoyingly beautiful, of course. Wide mirrors hang above the sink, and behind you, a full body mirror covers part of the wall. A strip of warm light cuts softly across the glass in front of you, leaving the room mostly dark but just bright enough to move around.
For a brief second, you think about how useful the dual mirrors would be for doing your hair hair in the mornings.
The countertop is expensive stone, and the hand towels are folded with the kind of precision that makes you suspect Ruby had more to do with the housewarming setup than Gideon did.
You do your business and take a moment to collect yourself, pressing your hands lightly against the counter.
Your reflection stares back—flushed and bright-eyed.
Ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
You're adults. At a friend's housewarming party. In a million-dollar home. Surrounded by people.
And yet all you can think about is Caleb waiting just outside the door.
Caleb's hand on your back.
Caleb dipping you beneath the string lights, telling another man with that easy smile that you're his girlfriend.
Caleb's voice in your ear.
Caleb's hand between your legs.
You turn on the sink and let cool water run over your fingers for a second longer than necessary, wishing you weren't wearing makeup so you could splash your face.
When you finally open the door, Caleb is exactly where you left him, warm light cutting across his face in soft shadows.
He's leaning against the opposite wall, arms loosely crossed, head tilted slightly as he looks down at you.
His gaze meets yours and neither of you says anything.
For a second, you both just stand there.
Caleb's mouth curves just slightly.
Your lips part, but no words come out.
Because the look you give each other says it all.
He pushes off the wall slowly and steps closer. His hand rises to rest against the doorframe above your head, blocking your exit without touching you.
"You know," he murmurs, voice low enough that the party below nearly swallows it, "I was doing a very good job behaving."
You look up at him, your heart climbing into your throat.
"Were you?"
His eyes drop to your mouth and he shakes his head.
"No."
A laugh catches in your chest, but it fades the moment he takes another step forward, backing you into the bathroom.
For one last second, the two of you hold there. Caught between good sense and the kind of need that makes good sense feel incredibly overrated.
Caleb smiles down at you, taking another step forward.
He keeps his eyes on you as he shuts the door softly with his heel, and instructs you, "Lock the door, pipsqueak."
You reach behind him and turn the lock, the sound clicking louder than it should.
The party continues somewhere below you, muffled by floorboards and the closed door. Laughter rises faintly, followed by the dull pulse of music, distant enough to feel like it belongs to another world entirely.
Caleb watches you with that steady, unreadable look that always makes you feel like he sees too much and not nearly enough at the same time.
He walks you back until you're against the sink counter.
"This is ridiculous," you whisper.
His mouth curves. "Very."
He uses his evol to lift you onto the counter, the cold stone stark against your heated skin, causing you to yelp in surprise before your thoughts return to how badly you want his hands on you.
"We're at Gideon's housewarming party."
"I'm aware."
Your legs are pushed open as he steps between them.
"In his bathroom."
His hand rises slowly until his fingers settle beneath your chin, gentle despite the look in his eyes. His thumb brushes along the edge of your jaw once, then again, before it trails over your bottom lip.
"You're looking at me like that again," he murmurs.
"Like what?"
"Like you want to argue with me."
You lift your chin slightly.
"Maybe I do."
His smile deepens.
"Mm. And?"
His hand slides from your chin to the side of your neck, his thumb resting just beneath your ear.
"And maybe I changed my mind."
He leans down until his lips are mere centimeters from yours, your breaths mingling in the closed space.
"Good," he says softly, then his lips find yours.
It starts slow and tender, and you can’t help but to instinctively lean into him.
His other hand finds your waist, drawing you forward on the counter until there's no space left between you and the solid warmth of him. He lets out a soft hum of satisfaction into your mouth.
The kiss deepens, and the restraint beneath it has worn down to a thread. You feel it in the way his fingers flex around the side of your neck, the way his other hand digs into your waist. In the way his breath leaves him when your hands slide up his chest and squeeze his shoulder. In the soft, almost whimper when you palm his cock over his pants.
His hand snakes down your arm, fingernails barely grazing across your skin. You breathe shakily into his kiss as the light sensation sends tingles throughout your body.
He laces his long fingers over yours and pulls back, bringing your hand to his lips.
His lidded eyes hold your gaze as he kisses your hand, back to palm, and lightly nips at the side. He kisses the inside of your wrist and you cup the side of his face gently.
You feel the warmth pooling between your legs, knowing this show of possessive behavior for what it is.
He had not liked another man touching you.
And something about that should not thrill you as much as it does.
But from Caleb, god, it does.
"Caleb," you breathe. “Now.”
You wrap your hand behind his head and pull him into another kiss, giving him another squeeze over his pants. He makes a low sound against your mouth, barely more than a breath.
His arms wrap around your shoulders, quickly pulling down the zipper to your dress.
You quickly undo his belt, then move to untuck his shirt. You break from the kiss just long enough to tug it over his head.
He lifts you with his evol just long enough to slip your dress off, and you gasp once again at the sudden change in gravity.
He groans at the sight of your matching lace set.
"Honey," he drawls, "you planned this from the start, hm?"
"Stop talking," you say as you loop your finger through his belt loop and tug him forward.
He chuckles and begins placing kisses and light nips down your neck. You wrap your legs around him and dig your fingers into his hair, the other continuing to grope his cock.
His hands greedily wander your body in light grazes and firm squeezes. One hand pinches lightly on your nipple as he bites down on the soft skin of your neck, and you let out a soft moan at the dual sensation.
"Shh…" he gently chastises in your ear, though you can hear the smile in his voice. "Wouldn't want to get caught."
He rubs the bud between his fingers as he alternates between soft kisses and bites along your neck and shoulder. You bite your lip to keep another sound from escaping, the soft whimper coming out muffled.
"Good girl," he praises, his other hand dragging slowly up your thigh.
His head lowers and he tugs your bra down just enough to get a mouthful, his tongue flicking against the hardened bud.
His other hand slides between your thighs, toying with the now fully soaked fabric blocking entry.
"Pips," he breathes, "you naughty girl."
He pushes the fabric to the side, sliding one finger up and down, coating your clit with your arousal. Your breath quickens with anticipation and another soft whimper escapes you.
"You're soaked for me," he hums against you, a sound of purse amusement at how easily you fall apart for him. "What are we going to do with you?"
You're trying very hard to behave and be quiet, but he is making it very difficult.
He lifts his head, his dark gaze locking onto yours.
"Do you enjoy when I make it known you're mine?" he asks, his voice growing rough, his finger massaging over your most sensitive spot. You suck in a breath and his mouth meets yours before your moan escapes your lips.
He pulls back just enough to murmur, "That no other man gets to touch you this way."
His finger lowers just outside your entrance, slowly teasing before easily sliding inside. You gasp at the sensation and the way he looks at you with such intense need.
"Answer me," he commands, his voice edged as he slips another finger in.
"Yes," you whimper and nod your head.
A smug, predatory satisfaction spreads across his face as his gaze rakes over you before he takes a step back.
You go to grab him immediately, to pull him back into you.
"Mm-mm," he says, his evol dropping your hand back down on the counter like a magnet.
He drops to his knees then, pulls out his fingers, and tugs off your underwear.
"Caleb," you whine. "I need you inside of me, now."
Looking up at you, he slides his fingers into his mouth, slowly tasting you on them. The deliberate intimacy of it, the way he savors you like you're his favorite and only flavor, makes your breath catch and heat spike through your entire body.
"So...good," he says, his voice rough. Your thighs are pushed wider by an invisible force as he leans forward, holding your gaze.
He trails one hand up your leg from your ankle, kissing and nipping at your thighs as his other returns to your clit. His fingers splay across your abdomen while his thumb works you in slow, deliberate circles.
You whimper out his name again.
"Shhh," he reminds you. "You need to be good for me."
His head trails up further until it's right where you need him.
"Look at the mirror and watch me as I savor what’s mine."
You look forward for the first time to see in the mirror the sight of shirtless Caleb kneeling between your legs, and fuck, this is a sight.
This is a much better use of the dual mirrors.
His tongue finally reaches out and flicks across your clit in short, teasing strokes. You bring your hand up to cover your mouth in a poor attempt stifle your moans.
He slips two fingers inside and begins slowly pumping in and out. You watch as the muscles on his shoulders ripple with each movement, the way his head bobs slightly with each stroke of his tongue.
"Fuck, Caleb," you moan quietly.
A soft, breathy chuckle escapes him.
"Enjoying yourself?" he rasps.
You throw your head back for a moment. Between the mixture of Caleb touching you, the sight of him on his knees before you, the sound of his voice, it's all beginning to completely overwhelm you.
You feel your head tugged back into place and your eyes drop down to Caleb, whose gaze has yet to leave you.
"Being a good girl," he says between strokes of his tongue, "also means doing what you're told." He sucks down on your clit and lets it go with a wet pop. "And I told you to watch me."
A moan escapes your lips before you can stop it and your thighs tense up at the pleasure building dangerously.
"Yes, Caleb," you say breathily.
Your eyes return to the reflection of him between your spread legs, as if on command.
When Caleb gets this way, you lose sight of all things sensible.
His stroking quickens and you find it more and more and more difficult to stay quiet with each passing second.
You reach for a folded hand towel to try to muffle the sounds escaping you, but your hand freezes mid-air. Caleb slowly reaches over and pulls the towel from yours, tossing it aside, all while keeping perfect rhythm.
"Caleb," you breathe, "you're such…" you stifle down another moan, "a jerk."
He's clearly enjoying this, a low hum of amusement thrums through you as he keeps working.
He wants to see you struggle and squirm, and fuck that’s doing something to you, too.
"You're so close, baby." He says between strokes.
You let out a soft whine in response.
The upside to his mechanical arm and its ability to read your every vital sign is, simply, an unfair advantage. Especially in these situations.
His hand rises to your chest, pinching and rolling the hardened bud between two fingers, then he curls his fingers inside you, finding that perfect spot he knows so well, and begins applying just a little more pressure.
Your toes curl over his shoulders and you feel a tingling sensation beginning to spread through your legs.
"Caleb," you whine, “fuck.”
He hums against you.
"Come for me now."
You abandon the mirror and look down, meeting his gaze directly as he works you, and between the look in his eyes and his command, you're pushed over the edge into absolute bliss.
Your hand flies to cover your mouth while your other fists desperately through his hair, rolling your hips into his face as you ride out the intense waves of pleasure coursing through your entire body.
He groans happily against you, the vibrations adding to your overwhelming sensations, encouraging you all the way through each trembling moment until you finally come down from that last crashing wave.
You're left breathless and shaking, and enjoying the sight of him as he pulls back. His mouth is glistening and his eyes are dangerously dark, filled with desire and the satisfaction of what he's done to you.
He removes his fingers slowly, and stands up to his full height, towering over your trembling form on the countertop.
"Open your mouth," he instructs as one hand cups the back of your head.
Still breathless and dazed, you do.
He places his wet fingers coated with your cum into your mouth.
"Suck."
He pushes his fingers in and out of your mouth, sliding over your tongue and part way down your throat as you suck them clean.
"That's my girl," he groans, his voice thick with need.
In your dazed state, you look down and see the massive, almost painful-looking bulge in his pants.
"Now," you command.
And you can tell by the way he strips with urgency, his control is barely hanging on by thread.
As his pants come undone, his cock is hard and dripping for you. You're struck all over again by just how much he'd hidden underneath those clothes all these years.
"You're staring," he teases, stepping in closer. He leans in for another kiss, and you can taste yourself in his mouth.
You reach down, gathering the wetness he's drawn from you, then wrap your hand around the length of him and begin to stroke. Something between a whimper and a groan escapes his lips and you smile into his mouth.
His head falls to your shoulder and absentminded kisses meet your skin between soft groans.
For all the control he loves to have over you, he has no problem becoming a whimpering mess for you the second you want to take control.
But for now, after his possessive displays, you're simply enjoying being his to command.
"I love you," Caleb says between kisses, "so much."
The admission makes your chest tighten in the best way, and you stroke him quicker, wanting to give him everything he just gave you.
His breath comes in short gasps as your hand works him with purpose.
"I love you, Caleb," you whisper against his lips, and the words seem to undo something in him. "I need you."
"I need to be inside you," he says, voice rough with desperation. "Right now."
Before you can respond, he's spinning you around, your palms landing flat against the cold stone counter. The chill against your overheated skin makes you gasp, and then Caleb is pressed against your back, his cock hard and insistent against your ass.
"Look up," he commands, and your eyes find the mirror.
The reflection shows you both. Your flushed faces, pupils blown wide with desire, and Caleb behind you, his expression dark with possession.
His arm wraps around your front, settling between your breasts, his thumb and index finger finding either side of your throat at the base, keeping you exactly where he wants you. The pressure is firm and utterly possessive, a physical reminder that you're his.
"Watch," he murmurs against your ear. "And feel what you do to me."
He positions himself at your entrance and pushes inside in one slow, devastating thrust, pulling a soft whimper from his lips. The stretch is overwhelming from this angle, and a moan tears from your throat before you can stop it.
Immediately, his other hand clamps over your mouth, muffling the sound.
"Quiet," he warns, his lips brushing your ear as his tongue flicks out. "Unless you want everyone downstairs to know exactly what we're doing up here."
Your eyes are locked on the mirror, watching as he pulls back and thrusts in again. You can see the flex of his muscles, the possessive grip he has on your throat and mouth, and the way your body responds to him.
You arch back into each thrust despite the firm hold keeping you in place. Squelching sounds fill the room with each thrust, and you can distantly feel the drip of your arousal trickling down your thighs.
You grab his forearm in a tight grip, not aware enough to know if you’re digging your nails into him or not, but at this point you really don't care.
The sight and feel of Caleb is obscene and beautiful and so intensely intimate that you feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes.
"Look at you," Caleb says, his voice strained. "Look at how perfectly you take me. How good you look when you're a whimpering mess for me."
You tighten around him at the praise, and he groans at the sensation, picking up the pace. Each thrust is deliberate and deep, and you can feel the pressure building again impossibly fast.
Your muffled sounds against his palm grow more desperate, and his fingers tighten slightly at your throat, reminding you that he's in control.
"That's it," he groans. "Feel how deep I am? How completely we belong to each other?"
You nod frantically, one hand gripping the edge of the counter for stability as he drives into you. In the mirror, you can see the flush spreading down your chest, the way his hand holds you so perfectly still, the desperate need written across both your faces.
Then suddenly he's turning your head back toward him, his hand leaving your mouth to grip your jaw, and he's kissing you deeply, swallowing your moans as his hips snap against yours.
The kiss is messy and desperate, low groans and whimpers escaping from Caleb between kisses as he strokes into you. Each thrust pulls a desperate sound from him, like he's falling apart just as much as you are.
His hand slides down from your jaw to find your clit, and the combination of his fingers, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you, and the possessive grip still at your throat sends you over the edge.
"Come for me," he demands against your lips as his fingers tighten around either side of your throat.
"Let me feel it, please," he begs with a desperate whimper into your ear.
The desperation in his voice causes you to shatter around him, your cry muffled against his mouth as pleasure crashes through you in waves.
Caleb buries his face into your neck, groaning roughly into your ear, as his climax follows yours only moments later, his rhythm faltering as he buries himself deep and spills inside you with shaky breaths.
Both of you are breathing hard with his arms still wrapped around you, as his hips come to a stop.
"Mine," he whispers against your skin, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "All mine."
"Only yours," you breathe back, and you can feel him smile against your neck.
For a long moment, you stay like that. Bent over the counter, his body covering yours, both of you trembling and spent as his cum begins to drip out slowly down your thighs.
And downstairs, the party continues, oblivious, while you exist in this perfect, intimate bubble of just the two of you.
Eventually, reality creeps back in.
Caleb pulls out slowly, and you both wince at the loss of contact. He reaches for the hand towels, the ones folded with precision, and kneels between your legs. He helps clean you up with surprising gentleness and care.
"We are never going to be able to look Gideon in the eye again," you say, breathless laughter escaping as you try to smooth down your dress before putting it back on.
Caleb grins, utterly shameless as he pulls his pants back on. "Speak for yourself. I'll manage."
"You're terrible."
"You love it."
You can't argue with that.
He steps behind you in the mirror, helping zip your dress back up, his fingers lingering at the top of your spine. You catch his reflection watching you. His mussed hair, swollen lips, and eyes still dark with satisfaction.
It takes you only a moment to realize you look just as wrecked.
"Your hair," he murmurs, reaching up to smooth a few strands back into place.
"Yours too," you counter.
His smile turns smug and he rakes his fingers through his messy strands.
"Worth it."
You're about to respond when his hand catches your wrist, spinning you back around to face him. Before you can ask what he's doing, he's kissing you again, his hand cupping your jaw like he can't bear to let you go just yet.
When he finally pulls back, his thumb brushes over your bottom lip.
He holds your gaze for one more long moment, then steps back and offers his hand.
"Ready to go pretend we didn't just defile our friend's bathroom?"
You laugh despite yourself and take his hand.
"Absolutely not. But let's go anyway."
You take a step then realize…
“Caleb," you start, looking around, "where’s my underwear?”
“Hm? Must have gotten lost in the chaos.” His head turns back to you with a sly smirk. “How unfortunate. They were so pretty too.”
“Caleb!” You smack his arm, and before you can argue anymore, he’s already let go of your hand and has rushed out of the bathroom with astonishing speed, with you chasing behind.
As you rejoin the party, you realize you’re grinning like an idiot.
Caleb’s hand has returned to the small of your back now that he’s successfully pulled off his surprise heist, and the smile on his face tells you he’s already planning round two.
God, you love this man.
