kissing practice gone wrong 🍎🍏

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kissing practice gone wrong 🍎🍏
Omg all the overstim in your sylus and raf works 😫🤤 makes me wonder if you have headcannons about how the other boys would be 🫣
can I make you lose your mind? (caleb, rafayel, sylus, xavier, zayne)
♱⋅── nearly 7k of the lads boys just losing their minds (and their control) when it comes to you. art by @/osk_purinnumee on x
♱⋅── WARNINGS: mdni, overstimulation, oral, pussy drunk boys, daddy kink (caleb), bicep choking (caleb), "just the tip" (sylus), size kink (sylus), cunnilingus (xavier), Lemurian heat (rafayel), orgasm denial (rafayel), breeding kink (rafayel), slight exhibisionism (zayne)
Caleb ♱⋅ ── the bully
How could Caleb deny you?
How could he when you come to him crying big crocodile tears, sobbing how no matter what you do you can’t seem to cum, how you think you must be broken, how no one would ever want such a hard-to-please woman in their bed.
As if he hasn’t spent years watching you, waiting for you, knowing damn well that the problem isn’t you.
So of course Caleb, being such a kind and thoughtful gege, has to prove you wrong, right?
He does. Over. And over. And over again. That is, until you’re crying in overstimulation, writhing away from his punishing thrusts, clawing against the sheets as you try to run from the pleasure-turned-pain.
Or, tried to.
“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. Where do you think you’re going?”
You’re running? No, no you can’t run away, not when he’s already spent his entire fucking life chasing you.
Caleb’s voice is teasing, raspy and sweet, but there’s nothing playful about the way his Evol surges to life with a mere crook of his finger, dragging you back along the mattress and pinning you down as he takes his sweet time crawling back to you.
Trapped, your breath hitches as you feel the weight of him settle over you, his intimidating frame caging you in, tracing featherlight kisses along your spine in such a stark contrast to how ruthlessly he was fucking you earlier. His hands roam, slow and deliberate, kneading your ass as he repositions himself behind you.
"If I let you go," he murmurs, "you promise not to run?"
Run? Why did you even want to run? You can’t remember now, not as you viciously nodding your head as much as is allowed under the control of his Evol, already arching your back into his touch as Caleb nips and marks your sticky inner thighs.
“Good girl.” The pressure disappears.
Immediately, Caleb replaces it, his entire body pressing you down before you can so much as take a proper breath. His arm snakes around your throat, flexing just enough to remind you who’s in control, the bulging, thick mass of his bicep choking you deliciously when you attempt to squirm or beg.
He’s got you in a headlock, the rest of his corded body pressing down atop you until your chest is squished to the mattress, ass pressed against Caleb’s pelvis, the combined pressure enough for you to be seeing stars. A drooling, overstimulated mess.
It doesn’t help that he’s practically panting like a dog in your ear, whining as he already begins thrusting himself back into your cunt, delirious moans of your name and filthy praises cooed right into your ear, words barely distinguishable with how hard he’s breathing.
“Aww p-poor thing.” Caleb pants, voice wrecked, whiny with need as he grinds himself against you. His pace is already brutal, his thrusts sharp and unforgiving, every desperate snap of his hips forcing a cry from your throat as his grip tightens, choking you deliciously every time you so much as try to squirm.“Can you be good for me? Be my sweet little girl and cum for daddy.”
It shouldn’t be hot, Caleb, your gege, calling himself daddy, it shouldn’t have you sobbing out an unintelligible plea as another orgasm builds, seizing up your body in tight, aching waves. And yet here you are, loosing your fucking mind at it.
“Please,” you gasp, voice muffled as you sink your teeth into his bicep, embarrassed by the desperate sound of your own voice. “Please, daddy.”
For the first time in thirty minutes, you feel Caleb stop.
He’s frozen entirely, dick hot and throbbing with need within you, each shaky breath hitting your ear as he pressed down closer, flattening, suffocating you into the mattress as you feel the growl come from his throat. You can hear the way his lips curl into a grin.
“You wanna say that again, princess?”
Whining, you try and arch your back further, wiggling your hips up as you try and bait Caleb into continuing, into giving you that release that was only just out of reach. But he wasn’t having any of that bratty attitude tonight.
“Behave.” Caleb’s arm tightens, and your vision swims. ”I asked you a question. You need daddy to—ah shit you tightened, dirty girl— fuck you nice and full, hmm? Fuck you stupid?”
A fresh wave of humiliation burns down your spine, but it doesn't matter. You’ll say whatever he wants if it means he moves, if it means he chokes you more, if it means he finally gives you what you need one more time.
“Yes, m’close, please daddy! Please—ah—let me cum one more time.”
Caleb just snaps.
His grip tightens instinctively. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel it, enough to make your breath stutter, your body jolt like the sweet little thing you are under his grasp. His entire frame tenses above you, muscles coiling so tightly it’s like he’s holding himself together with sheer willpower alone. But it’s already slipping.
"Fucking," His voice breaks, dissolving into a strangled groan as he buries his face against your neck, breathing you in like a man starved. "Fuck that shouldn’t be so hot, it really shouldn’t—"
Like you haven't already wrecked him beyond repair.
Caleb’s Evol comes back full force, pushing you prone against the mattress so you can’t feel anything but him, the arm around your throat dropping so his hand can press against your belly instead, pinning you down as he fucks into you so deep, so hard, you swear you can feel him in your lungs. His other hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back just enough for his lips to smash onto yours, sloppy, desperate, sucking at your bottom lip as the two of you jolt with each thrust.
"You have no fucking idea," Caleb laughs against your lips, the words a feverish, choked-out confession, "how long I've wanted to do this to you."
It’s almost like he’s hammering that truth into you, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, the sound of skin on skin nearly drowned out by your own sobs of pleasure.
"Caleb—"
"Say it again," he demands, not even trying to keep his composure anymore. "Say it for me, princess. Say it like you mean it."
"Daddy—"
"Fuck."
Caleb really didn't need another kink, he really didn't need to imagine you calling him all these filthy things on top of every other sinful thing he's already imagined you doing. It must be divine punishment, because god was he into it.
Practically collapsing on top of you, Caleb's barely pulling out before grinding right back in as deep as he can get, like he can barely think to part from you even for a moment, like he needs to feel every twitch, every squeeze, every shudder of your overstimulated body. His hands roam wildly, equally greedy, kneading and groping every tender curve like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you, like he’s claiming you in ways he’s never let himself before. And fuck, you’re close.
Caleb notices, of course he notices, nibbling the shell of your ear as the arm around your throat tightens, the other going right back to abusing your clit as you squirt all over him with a scream.
“Aw that’s it, keep cumming sweet thing.” Caleb’s voice is the only thing grounding you, your entire body, your vision trembling as you begin to lose consciousness. The only thing you can think of is Caleb. Caleb, Caleb, Caleb!
You don’t even realize you’re screaming his name over and over again as you squirt down both of your thighs, making a mess against the already ruined sweat-slicked sheets beneath the two of you. You’re so damn messy. He loves it.
Convulsing, walls fluttering around him like you’re made for him, a sweet temptation Caleb is so laughably weak against as he follows, humping against you like a mad dog as his breath shatters into desperate, shaky moans of your name, spilling inside you with a force that has you sobbing with pleasure.
“Oh, princess,” he rasped, his tongue tracing over the tear-streaked path down your cheek before pressing a soft, almost mocking kiss to your jaw. “Shh, it’s alright, don’t cry. Your gege is here, your daddy will take good care of you, promise.”
Rafayel ♱⋅ ── the desperate
You’re going to have to call in sick for the week.
Every year with the return of the tide, with the return of ebb-and-flow day, Rafayel becomes insatiable. You’ve barely been able to be able to escape Rafayel’s grasp for long enough to go to the bathroom, let alone escape enough from his insatiable fucking to walk well enough to fight.
It’s never been this bad. And it’s all your fault. Being back in your arms after eight hundred years, finally remembering the way your voice sounds when it says his name and the way you fit oh so perfectly in his arms. It’s borderline painful to spend even a minute in your absence. His very body violently rejects the notion of it as spasms of violent heat and need drives him right back into your arms again and again and again.
“Please, please let me fuck you. I can’t come like this, you know that.”
Rafayel’s voice is muffled against your thigh, breath hot as he presses a messy, open-mouthed kiss to your skin. His hands are clenched into the sheets beside him, trembling with the effort of keeping them off you, as you ordered. It’s the only rule you’ve given him tonight, and yet it’s breaking him.
"Rafayel," you warn, fingers buried between your thighs, working yourself open as his desperate, pleading gaze follows your every movement.
He whimpers, nodding frantically, his cock throbbing angrily where it rests against the mattress, one hand coming back to violently fist the swollen head as it leaks all over his palm and sheets. "I know, I know," his voice cracks as he drags his hand around its base, rutting into his own palm like it’s not enough, like it hasn’t been enough for hours now. "But please I—fuck—I can’t."
“You can.” You spread your legs wider, letting him see, letting him watch your fingers disappear into your fluttering cunt with a slick, wet sound that has his jaw going slack, his own hips grind into the bed helplessly. “I told you what would happen if you forgot to use a condom, again.”
Rafayel’s eyes plead up into yours, big fat tears slipping down his cheeks, his head shaking against your leg as he kisses the trembling flesh. "You don't understand," he sobs, nuzzling into the crook of your knee like he can smell the orgasm building inside you, like he can taste it on his tongue already. “I need- I need—”
"You need to learn control, Rafayel."
Your voice is less strict than you’d like it to be, already embarrassingly close considering all the times you’ve come earlier today. And the way Rafayel’s looking up at you, begging, pleading, is really not helping.
Tilting your hips slightly, you circle your clit in a way that makes your eyes roll back, making sure he sees the way your poor cunt flutters all empty, the way your body clenches, desperate for something more, something bigger.
Rafayel groans, his grip on himself tightening. Still, it’s useless, his Lemurian biology physically won’t let him cum unless it’s inside his pretty little mate, his cock swollen and weeping with how much he’s holding back, the pleasure that spikes through him now nothing but a cruel, agonizing echo of the real thing.
"My love," he chokes, head falling back against the mattress, his throat bobbing as he tries to breathe past the desperate hunger clawing at his insides. "My muse, my sweet darling, please. Taste you, touch you, anything, please!”
You hum, considering, rolling your hips against your own fingers as he moans, watching with wild, fevered eyes. "You wanna clean me up?"
"Yes."
The word is instant, sharp, like Rafayel’s been waiting for you to say it since the moment he first laid his hands on you tonight. Before you can even think of teasing or denying him any further, his grip snaps—both arms wrapping around your thighs, dragging you down the mattress in one swift, fluid motion.
"Rafayel—"
Too late.
His mouth is on you before you can protest, his tongue filthy as he sucks at your clit, licking up everything you’ve given yourself, drinking in the mess between your thighs like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. Slapping your own hands away, Rafayel pauses briefly to suck them clean before diving right back into the source, moaning into your cunt, making your body seize with another orgasm before you can even process the first.
"Fuck, fuck," Your hands fly to his hair, gripping hard, but it only makes him groan, rutting against the mattress, his own pleasure reigniting just from the taste of you.
You try to pull away, squirming and kicking at Rafayel’s sides, his shoulders, but he doesn't even budge. His arms lock tight around your hips, keeping you there, keeping you spread for him as he eats you out like a man possessed.
And then he's begging again, voice wrecked, slurred with delirious pleasure, licking at your clit between words as though he really can’t get enough. “Please, please let me fuck you. I promise, mhm, promise I won’t cum inside you again.”
Rafayel is still begging for permission even as he manhandles you beneath him, hesitantly parting with your cunt as he kisses up your stomach, sucking at one of your breasts as you feel the nudge of his cock against your entrance before you can even think. “Promise I’ll be good. I’ll be such a good boy.”
Fuck, you really are weak against him.
Using the last of your strength, you flip the both of you around, grinding down against his cock as you feel it throb, violently jumping between your thighs, the sloppy, wet sound of each movement sending shivers down both your spines. Poor thing is already ruined, body extra sensitive due to his heat, cock swollen and leaking as it begs to be inside you.
"You promise?" Your voice is a whisper, teasing, as you drag your soaked folds along the length of him, feeling him tremble beneath you.
Rafayel nods frantically, breath hitching, hands twitching at his sides like he wants to grab you, wants to force you down onto him, but he knows better. Knows he wouldn’t survive the punishment. His lips are red, glossy with your slick, parted around little choked-off whimpers as he fights against the desperate urge to rut up into you.
"I promise," he gasps, "Please, I’ll be good, I swear, I’ll be so good for you.”
You hum, dragging your fingertips down his chest, nails scraping lightly over sweat-slicked skin, enjoying the way his breath shudders at the contact. The pain. "You say that, but you've already come inside me, what, three times now?"
You rock your hips again, coating his cock in your arousal, watching the way his abs twitch with the effort of keeping still. Gods, he’s so pretty like this, neglected and crying underneath you, muscles strained and glistening with sweat and cum, watercolor eyes bleary as his tears collect on the mattress as dusky pink pearls. The same rosy shade of blush that burns across his cheeks, ears, and throbbing tip of his swollen cock.
“That warrants punishment, don’t you think?”
Rafayel all but whines at that, head tilting back against the pillow, his throat bobbing as he tries to breathe, tries to hold on to the last fragile thread of control he has left. "I—I won't this time, I swear, I’ll be good, I just need you."
"You need me?" You lean down, pressing your lips just below his ear, letting your voice drop to a sinful whisper. "Or do you just need to fuck something, sweetheart?"
"You." Rafayel’s answer is immediate, desperate, his hands finally snapping up to grip your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh. "It’s always you. Only you, my mate."
The admission makes your stomach tighten, heat pooling low as you let yourself sink down, just enough for the swollen head of his cock to catch at your entrance. Rafayel jerks, eyes wide, mouth dropping open around a silent moan, his grip on you tightening like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.
"Oh, fuck."
"You need me, you need your mate?" You tease, rolling your hips, letting him feel the wet heat of you without giving him what he really needs.
"Yes, please, please, please—"
And then, because you’re cruel, because you love seeing him like this, you lift yourself off him entirely.
Rafayel practically cries at that, and you let him plead, let him beg, until his whole body is shaking with the need to be inside you, until his voice is raw and wrecked from crying out your name. Then, finally, finally, you sink down, dropping the entirety of your weight onto him as you both moan at the sudden pressure as your ass smacks his pelvis with a lewd slap.
Rafayel’s body aches up off the mattress, a wrecked, strangled moan tearing from his throat as his fingers dig into your hips hard enough to bruise. His head tilts back, chest heaving, eyes glassy and unfocused, dilated almost like a cat’s, as if the feeling of being inside you after so long is too much for his mind to comprehend.
"Fucking finally."
You barely have a moment to adjust before Rafayel thrusts.
Whatever fragile restraint he had is gone, obliterated the second your walls squeeze around him. His hips jerk up in a desperate, instinctual rut, shoving himself deeper, harder, until the thick length of him is buried to the hilt inside you, and then pulled all the way out before ramming back in again. You choke on a gasp, nails digging into his chest, but he doesn’t even seem to register the pain.
"More." Some inhumane warble distorts Rafayel’s voice, nails turning clawed and sharp as he thrusts up into you with more strength than any human should possess. “Perfect, perfect mate.”
Your head spins, the force of each snap of his hips making your whole body jolt. His desperation is relentless, dragging you closer to the edge far too fast, too intense, gripping onto his shoulders just to keep you from falling over as your thighs begin trembling once again.
"Rafayel—Raf, slow down!"
"No," he whimpers, shaking his head wildly, hands tightening on your waist as if letting go isn’t an option. "No, please, sorry, need this." Rafayel’s voice breaks into a sort of trill, something like whalesong, eyes fluttering shut as he drives himself up into you, starved for more, cock throbbing desperately inside you. "Don’t leave me again, please.”
Your heart clenches. "I’m here," you whisper, leaning down, pressing your forehead to his as your body moves with his, rolling your hips as you try to stay in time with his brutal pace. "I’m right here, Rafayel."
He moans, high and broken, clutching you so tightly against him, feeling every inch of you pressed into his skin. His pace turns frantic, sloppy, body shaking beneath you as pleasure racks through him in violent waves. He’s close, but he won’t let himself fall over the edge alone.
"Come with me," he begs, his lips brushing over yours as he pleads for it. "Please.”
And you do.
The orgasm slams through you like a tidal wave, stealing every breath from your lungs as your entire body clenches around him. Rafayel keens, hips jerking wildly as he follows, his cock pulsing inside you as he fucks his cum deep inside you yet again, stuffing you full until you’re both shaking with overstimulation.
But it still doesn’t stop.
Rafayel can’t stop.
Even as his body trembles beneath you, even as his whimpers turn into sobs, he keeps moving, his hips rolling into you in slow, messy grinds. His cock twitches inside your still-clenching walls, sending violent aftershocks through you both.
"Mhh sorry," he moans, lips dragging down your throat, sucking bruises into your skin as if marking you will somehow keep you tethered to him. "Did it again, can’t help it. Pussy feels so nice, wants me too, always so desperate for me. Made to worship me."
You let out a wrecked, exhausted laugh, trying to lift yourself off of him, but his arms snap tight around your waist, keeping you anchored to him.
"No," he pleads, voice cracking, nuzzling into your neck as he breathes in your scent. "No, please, just—just a little more. You owe it to me for being so mean before."
Your head falls into the crook of his neck as yet another orgasm crashes through you, ripping a moan from your throat. Rafayel shudders, gasping against your skin, completely gone, his hips jerking helplessly, overstimulated beyond the point of caring. His body is moving on instinct now, neither of you fully conscious as he keeps moving on his own, chasing another high even as it breaks him.
"Fuck, Raf...”
"One more," he’s licking into your mouth, sucking your bottom lip, too tired and uncoordinated to properly kiss you. "One more, one more."
You don’t even know how many times you’ve both come. The world is a haze of heat and pleasure, of wet, messy grinds and deep, instinctual thrusts, of Rafayel’s loud, unashamed moans directly in your ear between kisses, of the desperate way he clings to you, unable to bear even a second, an inch of separation.
You ride him through another, and another, until your body finally gives out, completely limp against his chest, your limbs trembling too hard to keep yourself upright any longer. Rafayel follows soon after, his movements slowing, stuttering, until he’s finally, finally still beneath you, panting raggedly, body wracked with aftershocks.
The room is finally silent except for your heavy breathing, the two of you floating between sleep and reality for what seems like an eternity.
"I think I might die," Rafayel croaks, voice hoarse.
You huff a weak, breathless laugh as you grumble into his shoulder. "Good, you stupid horny fish."
Sylus ♱⋅ ── the sweetheart (liar)
You’re going insane.
Sylus promised he would finally fuck you, promised he’d finally give you what you’ve practically been begging him for all week. “Just the tip,” you’d beg, whining into his neck or suckling gently against his fingers in attempts to bait him, “Please, Sy, just the tip and I’ll stop asking.”
Technically speaking, he’s held up his end of the deal. After all, you’ve already cum four times. Not that it’s ever stopped you from wanting more.
“What’s this? Are you even listening to me, sweetie?” Something jerks your head up, and you’re snapped out of your thoughts at the same time as Sylus grinds forward, humming as he pulls you closer on his lap, your thighs spread wide atop of his. “Tch, first all that whining and now you’re not even paying attention to me. I’m hurt, kitten.”
You shake your head as best you can with his thumb and forefinger still squishing your cheeks, tears from the sheer overstimulation blurring your vision as you bury your face into Sylus’s chest, chasing the mere friction.
The fat head of his cock slips right back out of your cunt, tapping once, twice, on your swollen clit before grinding back in with a lewd pop. One inch, two, just enough for you to feel the delicious stretch of the tip of his cock, before Sylus lifts you up higher on his lap, pulling out as the torture begins all over again.
You swear you can take more. It doesn’t matter than everytime Sylus lines up his cock it hits your bellybutton from the outside, it doesn’t matter that your hands can barely wrap around his base, it doesn’t matter that even when you suck him off your jaw throbs and he can barely thrust it in halfway without you gagging.
“Sylus, please, please just—” you whine, rutting your hips down to no avail as his firm hands render you immobile. Watching you squirm with thinly veiled amusement. “Just fuck me already!”
Your breath comes out in short, stuttered gasps, frustration bubbling over into pitiful little sobs against Sylus’s skin. He shushes you, rubbing slow, teasing circles into your hips as if he’s offering you comfort. But you know better. The bastard lives for this, the way your body trembles, how your cunt clenches down hard every time he pulls out, desperate for more than what he’s giving.
“Please.” A broken cry rips from your throat as he nudges forward again, pushing the tip back inside like he hasn’t already driven you half-mad. “I can take it. Ah, I swear, I can take it.”
And yet, he’s still so fucking mean.
“Hmm,” Sylus’s voice drips with amusement, low and tinged with laughter as his lips graze the shell of your ear as though lost in thought. “No.”
You whine, digging your nails into Sylus’s back with more force than necessary as you hiss out curses, “Cruel, stubborn, self-assured asshole. I told you I can take it Syl—ah!”
Sylus pushes himself upward, roughly fucking his swollen tip against you, ramming that delicious spot within you as your curses dissolve into mindless babbles of his name, another orgasm ripping through you as you try and match Sylus’s rhythm by grinding yourself on the rest of his cock.
“That’s it,” He hums, dragging his tongue along your pulse, relishing the way it hammers beneath his mouth. He can feel how fast it beats, erratic and needy, the way your breath catches in your throat. “You’re gonna be good and take what I give you. Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re already fucked stupid. And I’ve barely even given you anything, kitten.”
It’s humiliating how right he is.
Your thighs tremble violently on either side of his, the ache in your muscles a dull, distant thing compared to the unbearable need twisting in your core. Desperate, you try to grind down, to force him deeper, to make him give you what you need. But Sylus just clicks his tongue, unimpressed, fingers digging into your hips as he holds you still, keeping you right where he wants you.
Sylus shifts back on the couch, pulling you down, controlling your movements with an infuriating ease, guiding you along the few inches he’s deemed fit to give you. It’s barely anything, nowhere near enough, but even that—just that slow, teasing roll of his hips—and the unbearable pressure of the thick, insistent tip of his cock is enough to make your back arch violently against him.
“There we go,” he murmurs, cooing as he watches you, helpless and pliant in his lap. “No more complaining.”
A desperate nod. Another broken whine.
You can feel it building again, the pressure coiling deep inside you, sharp and unbearable. Sobbing, you drop your head into Sylus’s shoulder, biting into the curve of his neck to muffle your cries, nails digging into his shoulders, chest, clawing violent red marks as Sylus shudders, eyes rolling back at the pain. Your legs are shaking too hard to do much of anything anymore, giving out as Sylus is the only thing left guiding you, dragging you toward yet another orgasm.
Or rather, he would have.
But you feel Sylus chuckle, the sound deep and sinful as it rumbles down his chest and into yours, and fear prickles along your spine. Then, with excruciating patience, he pulls out, leaving you empty all over again before tapping his throbbing cock against your clit—slow, deliberate, taunting.
“You wanted just the tip, sweetheart.” He grins, voice a low, cruel purr as he kisses your forehead. “So don’t start crying now that it’s all you’re getting.”
Xavier ♱⋅ ── the munch
“Then sit on my face.”
You stare, dumbfounded, as Xavier already begins leaning back against the cushions of your bed, those big, blue eyes begging up at you in ways that make it hard to breathe.
Xavier’s hands tighten around your waist, fingers flexing like he’s barely restraining himself from yanking you down then and there. The heat of his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making your pulse stammer, making every inch of you ache with want.
“Xavier, I didn’t actually mean…”
“You want me to prove it, right? Then I’ll do what I can to serve you well.” He’s dead serious, you realize, still staring down at him in shock as Xavier frowns, sitting up just long enough to wrap his arms around your waist and haul you toward him, seating you on his chest as protests die in your throat. “Sit.”
Biting your lip, you still find yourself hesitating. What if you’re too heavy? Or if he doesn’t actually like it? You still have your underwear on, shouldn’t you take it off, or does he plan on eating you through it? What if—
"You're thinking too much again." His voice is firm, but gentle, cutting straight through your spiraling thoughts. Before you can get another word in, he lifts you up from the backs of your thighs, guiding you forward until your knees are bracketing his head and you're hovering just above his waiting mouth.
Xavier groans, this is already better than his dreams—just having you above him, so close, so warm—is enough to make him lose his damn mind. His hands are keeping you steady, and when he tilts his head back to look at you again, you almost drown in the sheer hunger in his gaze.
"Please," he murmurs, breathless, sucking and kissing into your thighs like he can't believe you're making him wait so long for something he so, so desperately needs. "I really don’t think I can wait much longer."
A shudder racks through you, thighs trembling as the heat between your legs grows unbearable. Xavier’s so serious, so patient, despite the raw hunger in his voice, despite the way his chest rises and falls in uneven pants beneath you. You’d have to be cruel to deny him.
Slowly, you lower yourself the rest of the way, bracing your hands against the headboard as Xavier immediately pulls you the last few inches down, shoving his face up into you like he’s starving.
He might as well be because the first swipe of his tongue is so hot, so eager, that you nearly jerk away from the sudden pleasure. Not that Xavier would let you. His fingers dig into the marked-up plush of your thighs, keeping you right there as he groans into your pussy like you’re the best fucking thing he’s ever tasted.
“Wait—” Your voice is already breaking, a gasp caught in your throat as he licks into you again, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second of it. He doesn’t even bother pulling your underwear aside, just mouths at the fabric, dampening it further, teasing you through the barrier until it sticks to your folds and you’re a whimpering mess, gripping the headboard so tightly your knuckles ache.
Then he shifts, hooking a single finger under the waistband, dragging it aside just enough to give himself proper access.
The first real flick of Xavier’s tongue against your clit is devastating.
A high, broken moan rips from your throat as pleasure jolts up your spine, your thighs snapping shut around his head, suffocating him as Xavier feels like the happiest man in the world. Moaning into your cunt, Xavier pulls you down harder against his mouth like he wouldn’t mind drowning in your pleasure if it meant he got to taste you for just a few seconds longer.
You’re already cumming. Head falling backward, your lips part in a silent scream as Xavier’s tongue continues circling around your clit in that same, devastating rhythm, only letting go once you’ve come all over his face. But he doesn’t stop for long.
His tongue flicks and curls and fucks into you with the kind of dedication that makes your vision blur, that makes your whole body burn as you become more and more sensitive. And when you grind down against his mouth, desperate and trembling, he just groans in approval, encouraging you to ride his face like you need this just as much as he does.
"That's it," Xavier mumbles between licks, inaudible between your wet, sinful noises. "Don't hold back. Use me."
It’s too much. It’s not enough.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling hard, but it only makes him grin against you, only makes him suck harder, making you gasp and sob as your thighs start to shake once more around his head. Still, he devours you, no teasing, no hesitation. Just raw, ravenous hunger.
"Xavier—"
He hums in response, the vibrations sending another sharp wave of pleasure through you. Then he finally fucks his tongue deep into your cunt, curling against your walls as you clench around the hot muscle, Xavier’s nose grinding deliciously into your clit as his hands begin guiding you back and forth once your rhythm falls apart.
You come hard, a choked cry ripping from your throat as your body locks up, pleasure searing through every nerve. Xavier doesn’t stop—doesn’t let you escape—licking and sucking you through your orgasm like he needs every drop, like he won’t be satisfied until you’re a writhing, overstimulated mess above him.
“Ah, Xavier, seriously,” you whine, every suck against your clit now tender and overstimulated as you try and squirm away to no avail. “Can’t, Xavier, can’t come again!”
Crying, you finally manage to wrestle his head out from underneath you—body still shaking, pleasure crackling under your skin like a live wire—realizing something that makes your stomach flip.
Xavier is panting, eyes half-lidded and hazy with bliss, hair fisted in your hands as the rest sticks to his forehead and pillow with sweat, letting you inch off of him as he finally breathes, heaving in deep breaths through swollen, wet lips. His whole body shudders beneath you, and when you shift, you feel it—the sticky warmth against his stomach, the evidence of his release.
He came. Just from eating you out.
And the worst part?
He’s still hard.
“One more time, please?”
Zayne ♱⋅ ── the addicted
Uh oh.
This was bad.
Zayne has always considered himself a beacon of self-control, having grown up under the concept of restraint and caution when it came to everything from his Evol to his life’s work as a surgeon.
But even he could get addicted to having you spread out underneath him like this.
It had started innocently. Zayne had forgotten his lunch today, probably due to his consecutive sleepless nights, thanks to being on call for not two or three but four surgeries this week. So when you delivered his lunch to his private office like any sweet girlfriend would do, it was only natural that you’d want to see if you could help him feel more relaxed and maybe help relieve the stress that was so clearly fogging up his mind.
This, however, was not what you had in mind.
"Zayne, someone is going to hear us," you hiss, voice trembling, but make no move to stop him.
Zayne only hums, two fingers rubbing right up against your clit with expert precision even with your jeans still unzipped around your waist. His other hand shucks them just barely down your thigh, pressing his fingers right back in, curling against that spot that has your legs jerking against the polished wood of his desk before dragging his fingers out of you agonizingly slow.
"You should’ve locked the door when you came in, then." He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, leaning down, his breath hot against your ear. His free hand presses against your stomach, keeping you pinned as he fucks you open with his fingers, movements slow, deliberate. "You know I don’t like being interrupted."
Your head tilts back against the desk as your cries are muffles into your palm. "Zayne!"
"You were the one who wanted to help relieve my stress, weren’t you?" His voice is calm, collected, like he isn’t knuckle-deep inside you with his fingers glistening from how wet he’s made you already. "So be a good girl and take it."
Your breath stutters, thighs twitching as you clench around his fingers, already embarrassingly close with how well he knows your body, how pent up you’ve been after not having Zayne in over a week. Meanwhile, Zayne watches you come undone with sharp, almost clinical eyes, the hunger in them barely restrained, a predator biding his time.
"Mhm, close, I can’t—"
"Yes, you can," he cuts you off smoothly, pressing his fingers deeper, rubbing firm, steady circles over your clit. His expression doesn’t change, but his voice dips lower, smiling ever so slightly as he watches you. "Come for me."
You shudder violently, hands gripping the edges of the desk as another orgasm threatens to crash over you, your body far too weak to resist the relentless pleasure.
"Zayne," you cry out, hips jerking.
He clicks his tongue, allowing you to ride out your orgasm, but not before ripping his tie off, deft, scarred hands looping through the expensive silk before balling it up and pushing it into your open mouth.
“What did I say about staying quiet?”
Your response is stifled around his tie, and Zayne feels his traitorous cock throb at the sound of your fucked out, inaudible voice, the very picture of debauchery with the slight drool smearing your lipstick, your eyes hazy with post-orgasm glow, your office button-down skewed across your breasts just enough so be can squeeze your breast right under your lacy bra.
He wants to ruin you even more.
Zayne has barely even zipped down his pants, holding up his own shirt as he bites it to keep his leaking cock from smearing pre-cum all over the cotton, before he’s desperately fucking his own fist with one hand, the other still circling your clit.
When the sound of voices echo from right outside his office door.
Your body jerks under him at the sudden noise, but Zayne doesn’t stop. If anything, he doubles down, pressing his slick fingers harder against your clit, wrenching another broken sob from your throat, muffled by the tie still shoved between your lips.
“Don’t you dare,” he whispers, voice low, dangerous. His free hand tightens around his cock, stroking faster, more desperate, more sloppy than you’ve ever seen him. The sight alone has your walls clenching down around nothing, a fresh wave of arousal making a mess of his desk and the scattered papers on top.
The voices outside the door grow louder, and Zayne’s entire body tenses. Not with fear. Not with hesitation. But something that he thinks might ruin him forever.
“I should stop,” he murmurs, though his fingers never leave you, still rubbing circles into your overstimulated clit, dragging you higher, forcing you to ride that unbearable edge of pleasure. His teeth clench, brows furrowed as his pace on his own cock stutters, his restraint cracking with every second that passes. “I really should stop.”
You whimper, body trembling beneath him, a plea barely audible around the silk in your mouth.
“But you love this, don’t you?” His voice drops, rasping, guttural. “You love making me a mess, love knowing that the only thing keeping us from getting caught is how good you are for me.”
Zayne never talks like this, but god, now you wish he’d never stop. His mere voice is enough to send you over the edge once again. Your moan is strangled, raw, hips lifting weakly into his touch despite the overstimulation.
The door handle rattles.
Zayne snaps, one arm shooting out as ice surrounds the handle, spears of it crawling over the wooden frame of the door, across the tiled floor as he loses control.
He barely spares it a glance. Pulling the tie from your mouth, Zayne immediately replaces it with his lips, swallowing your gasp as he shoves two fingers back inside you, curling them deep, his strokes ruthless, relentless. His other hand leaves his cock only long enough to drag you forward, forcing your legs around his waist, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance as he moans into your mouth.
"Zayne, your Evol—"
"Don’t worry about me," he hums, kissing you one more time before his gaze drops, watching where the two of you meet. “You’ve done more than enough for me. You’ve always been enough for me.” And he pushes in inch by inch, stretching you open around his thick length, your body still pulsing and greedy from your last orgasm.
Zayne exhales sharply, his forehead pressing against yours as he stills, buried inside you. His fingers flex against your waist, grounding himself, keeping himself from completely unraveling.
“That’s it, breathe,” he murmurs, voice back to the soft, low tone you know so well, the urgency melting into something reverent. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then another to your jaw, as if to soothe you through the stretch. “You’re perfect.”
Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging gently as you grind upward, coaxing him into going faster, into actually fucking you.
Zayne groans, his control fraying as he clutches you tighter, nose brushing against yours. “You're going to be the death of me,” he whispers, lips ghosting yours in a kiss, the intimacy making your heart clench.
You can still hear muffled voices beyond the door, a stark reminder of the risk, of how dangerously close you are to being caught. But it only makes you cling to him tighter, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you whisper, “Then let me take care of you, Doctor.”
🐺 🐶 🐰
I couldn’t fit all in one post.. so, check my ig or x for the full version!
Something something about Caleb and underwear
Woof🐺🐶
The doggos figure out how they both fit in your life... literally
Caleb x reader x Valko (applewolf) Warnings/Tropes: Explicit, MDNI. Lil Rivalry/Lil Fruity bw the boys (yes i love me some spice), Double penetration, Praise, Size difference, Overstimulation, Rough sex
wc: 1200
You weren't sure how you got here.
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a blade. The only sound was the steady, grating hum of a drill working into metal. Biting your lip, you looked up, your eyes darting between the two men sitting in front of you. Hostility radiated off both of them.
Caleb was shooting daggers at the redhead. Valko kept his jaw clenched, a muscle ticking as his gaze remained fixated on Caleb’s mechanical arm, ignoring the glare as he tightened the final bolts.
You contemplated all your life choices that led up to this moment.
Caleb, your dear sweet Caleb, the only boy you had eyes for your entire life, had returned to Linkon after a months-long mission in the deepspace tunnel. Like always, he was staying with you in your apartment. And since you had recently learned about the reality of his mechanical arm, you had been gently pushing him to be more vulnerable with you– which included nagging him until he finally let you tag along for his routine maintenance repairs.
Except there was a slight problem. You had discovered a little too late that the technician in charge of keeping Caleb’s arm functional was, well... Valko.
You had met him while Caleb was away on his mission, when your paths crossed with the Encore tech company during your hunter duties. And your relationship with him had quickly devolved from professional boundaries into something entirely different.
Filled with heated proximity and unaddressed, impulsive kisses that you both had indulged in. You were left in a predicament that left you utterly confused, suddenly finding yourself deeply attracted to a man who wasn't Caleb. It wasn't like your feelings for your first love had dissipated; you were just…stuck.
And as fate would have it, your plans of hopefully distancing from both men to get your head straight were instantly foiled. All of your paths had collided into one volatile mess.
After what felt like ages,Valko finally set the heavy machinery aside. He inspected Caleb’s arm one last time before pulling his protective glasses off, to which Caleb responded with a low grunt.
“So,” Valko started, his nostrils flaring as he clenched his jaw hard enough to crack bone. His sensitive sense of smell was painstakingly aware of the distinct scent you and Caleb now shared, perhaps due to the fact that he was using your bodywash whilst living with you.
“How do you know him exactly?” Valko cocked an eyebrow, his sharp gaze snapping over to you. You stiffened in your seat, your throat going completely dry. You opened your mouth to respond, but Caleb beat you to the chase.
“I believe I should be the one asking that question.” Caleb tilted his head, eyes locking onto the redhead. “I can tell there have been recent... developments since I last left you, pips.”
Now both of them were staring directly at you, waiting.
Goddammit. Of course he knew something was up between the two of you. Your body language probably gave everything away, alongside the fact that Valko looked too comfortable being in your personal space.
“I-I can explain,” you squeaked, shrinking back into your chair, feeling like prey caught in a trap.
You didn't think it was possible, but the following events stunned you even further. After you finally stammered out the truth, you had fully expected them to completely flip out. With how fiercely overprotective Caleb had been throughout your entire life, combined with the fact that Valko was weirdly territorial about you around anyone else, you figured all hell would break loose.
But instead, the atmosphere in the room shifted.They exchanged a look– a knowing, dangerous glint passing between them before they shared the same canine grin.
Which led to your current situation.
You were pulled onto Caleb’s lap, your back pressed flush against his chest, and your thighs held up and spread wide apart by his arms, completely naked and exposed to the man in front of you. You would have tried to shy away if not for the wreck happening below.
Both men were sinking their cocks into your pussy at the same time, stretching the tiny hole to the point where your vision went blurry.
“Ahh- t-too big,” you whined, yet looking down, full blown tears started streaming down your cheeks at the fact that they weren't even halfway inside.
Valko leaned over, using his tongue to lick the salty tears away, a smug smile stretching across his face. “Oh? I thought you wanted us both at the same time, puppy.”
Panicking at the mounting pressure, you tried to arch your hips upward, wanting to escape their dicks bullying their way into you. But Valko’s large hands locked onto your hips like vices, holding you down firmly in place.
“Nah, clearly puppy over here, is all bark no bite.” Caleb murmured from behind you, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he condescendingly enunciated Valko's nickname for you.
Soon enough, when they both finally bottomed out with heavy grunts, their dicks throbbing in unison against your tight walls, your pussy betrayed you. To your utter humiliation, you came, hard, all from just being stuffed to the brim.
“F-fuck. That's all you needed huh. I mean–Shit. Just look at her bro” Valko practically whimpered, his voice breaking at how tightly you were gripping and spasming around them. It didn't help your case at all when he reached over to rub deliberate circles on your clit, making you gush, your slick release dripping down their connected lengths.
Without warning, Caleb leaned over, wrapped his hand securely around your neck, and used you as leverage to thrust up into you. The sudden movement prompted Valko to move as well, hissing from the friction of Caleb sliding against him.
“hah! My god, mmph–” You were oh so gone, your face going completely slack in a lewd expression as your eyes rolled back into your skull.
“Nasty girl, look at how wet you are,” Caleb mused, looking down at the filthy sight where you were all connected. It was messy and uncoordinated at first, with Valko growing ravenous as your scent intensified by tenfold from how much you were dripping everywhere.
Quickly though, Caleb got annoyed by the boy’s chaotic movements, so much so that he reached forward to grab a handful of Valko's hair, tugging back sharply until he slowed down.
“Slow down, mutt. In case you forgot, she's not the only one feeling your dick here.”
“Nah,” Valko flashed a wolfish smile, the fact that Caleb was sharing your scent turned him on a little more than he’d care to admit. “I know you’re upset it took you years to fuck her, and what'd it take me? A few months? How bout’chu pipe down mutt”
Their little hissing match translated into rocking into you even deeper, each thrust practically hitting your cervix with brutal force. Clearly, you were going to be the sacrificial lamb between the two of them today. “G-guys, slow down, too much-!” you sobbed out, too overwhelmed from the men rutting into you like they were in heat.
“Nope.”
“nuh-uh,” you heard in unison.
Fuck me, you thought, your mind completely melting as they picked up the pace. This is gonna take a while.
tags: @lanalemonn @hilliserose @myspi2010
like a glove
“you’re so— you’re so tight. i’m not going to fit, pipsqueak. it’s okay. we can try again another—”
in one ear, out the other. paying caleb's pleading voice no mind, you sink down on him inch by inch, relishing the stretch but quickly growing impatient. beneath you, he throws his head back into the pillows, overwhelmed by the sheer warmth of you.
“please. please. you’re squeezin’ the life outta me.” as if to prove his point, he starts to slur his words. “i dunno if i can take it.”
“you can.” you dig your nails into his hip bones. “you will. how much time did we waste, dancing around our instincts? we’ve both wanted this for so long—it’s only right that we take everything the other has to give.”
“then…can we take a break, at least? what if you hurt yourself? it can’t— it can’t be easy.” his mouth falls open, a whimper escaping as you swivel your hips trying to work your way to his base. “you’re so small. too damn small.”
“maybe you're too big. i like it, though. and once i fit you all the way in, i’ll love it.”
the rapid swell of his length isn’t making this any easier. every time you make progress trying to take him, he only grows even larger inside you.
“you’re the one who begged for this earlier. i want it, too. but you have to help me—i can’t do it on my own, caleb. you've always helped me, haven't you? always been there to look out for me. can’t you do it again?”
swallowing thickly, he admires you through half-lidded eyes. when you push your lips into a pout, he nods slowly. giving in like he always does.
nerves alight, he wills his hips to drive three feeble thrusts into your heat. it’s a rare show of weakness from him, but even his lacking efforts make you slide farther down.
of course, your mixed arousal dribbling down his length does most of the heavy lifting.
“more,” you urge. “more. we’re almost there.”
“i can’t.” he’s almost delirious now. “so, so tight. feel like i can’t breathe.”
“do it. you don’t want to disappoint me, do you? if you do, you might not get the chance to make it up to me.”
“no…no.” ardent as it is, his refusal is soft. he’s crashing quickly, devoting his waning energy to blinking the tears out of his eyes rather than projecting his voice. “never.” tensing for a moment, he gathers all his strength and rolls his hips, slow and deep, into your center. you accept him greedily, hissing through the dull sting until the rest of your weight falls on his throbbing length. once you’re fully seated, the scandalous slap of skin on skin echoes through the room. his desperate moans and a string of curses follow.
finally, finally, you feel so incredibly whole.
you moan, lewd and lascivious, and lean down to kiss the center of his chest.
“was i good?” he asks, rapid pants fanning the crown of your head. “you feel so good. is this good?”
when you raise your head, he sits up on his elbows, eager to kiss your lips in grateful reciprocity.
it doesn’t take much to dodge him. grinning, you splay your hand across his now flushed chest and push him back down, earning a whiny, defeated groan. sinking impossibly deeper, you give his nose a conciliatory peck.
“shhh. just stay like this. you don’t have to do anything,” you murmur into his skin. “that break you wanted earlier? we can take it now. i want to get used to this feeling. don’t you?”
caleb’s back from college!
rating: explicit/nsfw category: f/m, caleb/reader, reader-insert tags: childhood friends to lovers, pseudocest, mutual pining, domesticity, playfight, sexual tension, homecoming, suppressed!caleb, yearning!caleb, submissive top!caleb, insecure!caleb, forced proximity, forbidden/risky, “be quiet, granny will hear us”, making out, dryhumping, p in v, mirror sex, backshots, leg hooking, aftercare, i think that's it? wordcount: 15.9k PREVIEW : “wait, what the hell?!” you gasped, your hands flying up in a knee-jerk reaction to push him back, but caleb's hands immediately shot forward to pin you back down against the couch. “see?” caleb murmured, leaning down closer, his hot breath fanning across your cheeks, smelling faintly of the mint gum he'd been chewing. “you couldn't even move before i did this. you can't even defend yourself, you silly girl. that means you still need me to protect you.” SYNOPSIS : what was supposed to be a casual homecoming quickly devolves into a suffocating game of unspoken jealousy and long-awaited confessions where every shared glance and tight space threatens to collapse the boundaries of your childhood friendship. trapped between the ticking clock of his limited sixty-day leave and the terrifyingly possessive reality of how much he’s missed you, will the tension eventually snap?
caleb is coming back this summer.
the heat of early june in the province always carried a specific kind of weight, heavy with the scent of sun-baked asphalt, dry grass, and the faint rot of fallen mangoes in the backyard. it was summer, finally! the kind of summer that felt less like a break and more like a threshold. you had just wrapped up your sophomore year at the state university down the road, a year spent navigating crowded lecture halls, cheap iced coffees, and a revolving door of new faces that you tried very hard to care about.
for the first time in your life ever since, you and caleb hadn't shared a daily routine.
after eighteen years of being so aggressively attached at the hip that your shadows practically bled together, the last four years had seen you both drifted into your own separate worlds. it was a strange, quiet realization: you both had lives of your own now.
caleb had packed his bags for that prestigious aerospace academy up north, his childhood fascination with the sky hardening into a fierce passion for flying. you, on the other hand, had stayed behind anchored to the familiar soil of your hometown just to float between random orgs, shifting friend groups, and the vague pursuit of figuring out who you were when you weren't “caleb and his girl.”
and today, he was coming home....
the question had been humming under your skin all morning, rhythmic and annoying like a cicada’s buzz. did caleb change? would he look different? act different?
the last time you saw him in the flesh, right before his departure, he had already begun to outgrow the lanky, boyish frame you could map with your eyes closed. his shoulders had broadened, his jawline cutting a sharper silhouette against the terminal lights. he had looked less like the boy who used to help you steal guavas from the neighbor's tree and more like a stranger you'd cross the street to look twice at.
”make sure you tell him to eat properly while he's here,” granny had mumbled earlier this morning, her voice thick with sleep as she shuffled around the kitchen, adjusting the mesh food cover over a plate of fried rice. “that boy always forgets to look after himself when he's excited.”
you had laughed, buzzing with a restless, frantic energy, nodding quickly as you practically flew out the screen door. you didn't even bother putting on real shoes—just slipped your feet into a pair of worn-out rubber slippers, the soles thin enough that you could feel the morning grit of the driveway beneath your arches.
gideon’s car was already idling by the gate, the exhaust coughing a pale plume of smoke into the crisp morning air. gideon, caleb's friend and the closest thing you both had to another brother, had come back from the city a few days earlier because of some vague corporate endeavor he refused to elaborate on. his early return was a stroke of luck; it meant you didn't have to brave the crowded public transportation to get to the drop-off terminal.
“look who finally crawled out of bed,” gideon teased as you yanked the backdoor open and threw yourself into the backseat. the leather was cool against the backs of your thighs, a sharp contrast to the mounting humidity outside.
“i've been up since five, actually,” you shot back, leaning forward so your chin was practically resting on the gap between the two front seats. “go, go, go. we're going to be late, gideon!”
“we have forty minutes, calm down,” gideon chuckled, throwing the car into reverse with practiced ease. his hand spun the steering wheel effortlessly as he backed out onto the main road.
the moment the car straightened out, you immediately started. you couldn't help it. the questions poured out of you in a breathless stream, all of them centered around the one person who hadn't been here. because gideon and caleb were in the same university for college, gideon was your only real window into caleb’s new life.
“is he still doing those crazy flight simulator hours? did he actually pass his survival training or did he cry? does he still sleep with three pillows? is he... does he look different, gideon? like, really different?”
gideon navigated the familiar potholes of the provincial highway, answering each query with a patient nod of his head. he was used to this. he had been the buffer between you and caleb ever since.
“he's fine. still a nerd about planes,” gideon said, glancing at you through the rearview mirror with a knowing smirk. “he passed the survival drills with top marks, obviously. you know how he is. he doesn't cry over dirt. and yeah, he's bigger. the academy makes them do a lot of physical training. he looks like a proper pilot now.”
you listened to every word, your head tilting slightly, your eyes fixed on the back of gideon's head. you were listening so attentively it almost hurt, your ears straining for something specific. a name, maybe. a habit. a detail that sounded wrong, or a hint of a girl, or a sign that he had completely outgrown the small-town girl who used to share his umbrella. you were waiting for a phrase that would confirm your deepest, unvoiced fear: that he had left you behind in the dust of the province.
but that piece of information didn't arrive. gideon just kept talking about credit hours, physical exams, and flight logistics.
“anyway,” gideon clears his throat, switching gears as he turned onto the long stretch of road leading to the junction. “enough about the golden boy. how's state uni treating you? your granny said you joined some theater production crew last month. you making friends?”
the spark in your chest caught a sudden, damp chill. your posture slumped just a fraction, the manic energy leaving your shoulders as quickly as it had arrived. the topic was no longer caleb.
“oh. yeah. it's fine,” you murmured, your voice dropping an octave. “the theater stuff was just for a midterm project. it's over now. and friends... yeah, they're okay. we go to the diner near the campus sometimes.” it sounded dull. it sounded incredibly small compared to aerospace academies and survival training and flying through clouds.
sensing your sudden shift in mood but choosing not to press it, gideon just hummed, turning up the radio slightly.
you leaned back against the seat, suddenly feeling the distance between your body and the front of the car. with a slow movement, you pressed the button on the door panel, letting the window roll down all the way.
you were going to see him in less than fifteen minutes. and for the first time in your life, you were terrified of what his smile might look like now.
with a restless groan, you shifted your weight, sliding down the leather until you were lying flat across the length of the backseat. you lifted your legs, balancing your heels against the rim of the lowered window frame, letting the rushing wind blow right over your bare toes. the bright summer sunlight hit your face in a sudden wash, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut as the shadows of roadside acacia trees flickered across your eyelids like a film strip.
gideon glanced back through the rearview mirror, his eyes crinkling at the corners as a quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest. “what exactly is the strategy here? are we airing out your feet, or are you trying to slide out of the car entirely?”
“shh,” you muttered, not opening your eyes, just waving a hand dismissively in his general direction. “don't ruin the vibe, gideon. i'm getting into character. when we get there, i'm going to pretend to be asleep.”
“and why, pray tell, are we faking a coma?”
“because,” you mumbled, your voice dropping into a stubborn drone. “he's been gone for four years acting all professional and pilot-like. i'm not giving him the satisfaction of seeing me standing at the curb like an eager puppy. if i'm asleep, he has to wait for me to wake up.”
gideon let out an amused snort but didn't argue further, slowing the vehicle down as he navigated the chaotic entrance of the terminal. the air became a noisy symphony of sputtering engines, the loud barking of barkers calling out destinations, and the heavy hiss of bus brakes.
then, the car came to a full stop. the engine remained idling, its low vibration humming right through your spine as you lay flat on the seat.
you heard the tinny ring of gideon’s phone bridging the gap over the dashboard, followed by the click of the answer button. gideon didn't even put it to his ear; he just left it on speaker, the sound cutting through the air-conditioned cabin.
“yeah? where are you? i'm near the main exit, by the yellow bakery,”
”oop, i see the car,” a voice replied.
that was caleb!
your breath hitched, catching sharply in your throat. it was him. it was caleb. even through the cheap, compressed audio of a phone speaker, there was no mistaking that specific cadence—that easy, slightly raspy, slow-rolling tone that always sounded like he was hiding a joke behind his teeth. it was exactly the same.
“alright, hurry up. the traffic enforcer is already looking at me sideways,” gideon said, hanging up.
panic, sudden and entirely irrational, flared up under your ribs. you scrambled to pull your legs down from the window, tucking your knees slightly toward your chest, and threw your right arm over your eyes, effectively blocking out the blinding glare of the sun and the view of the front seats. you squeezed your eyelids shut until you saw spots, forcing your breathing to slow down.
just act natural. you're asleep. you've been sleeping the whole ride.
the crunch of boots on gravel outside the car door was your only warning. and then, the front passenger door clicked and swung open. “hey!”
your heart nearly leaped right out of your chest. the sheer force of it hammered against your ribs so violently you were terrified he would actually hear it over the sound of everything else. you closed your eyes even tighter, your arm pressing down hard against your brow line.
“man, you look like you survived a war,” gideon’s voice boomed, followed by the rustle of clothing as the two of them exchanged a brief half-hug across the console.
“more like two years of institutionalized sleep deprivation,” caleb replied, his voice much louder now, much closer, vibrating from the seat right in front of your head. the car door slammed shut with a heavy thud, sealing the three of you inside the quiet space.
there was a brief rustle of a duffel bag being shoved into the footwell, and then a sudden pause. you could feel the exact moment his attention shifted.
”is... she dead?” caleb asked, his tone dropping into that familiar, amused lilt.
“passed out about ten minutes ago,” gideon lied without a single hitch in his voice. god, you owed him a premium coffee for this. “she was buzzing around the house since five in the morning, then collapsed the second we hit the highway.”
a loaded silence descended upon the car as gideon shifted into drive and pulled away from the curb. you lay frozen, every muscle in your body stiff with the effort of remaining limp. you could feel caleb’s weight shifting in the front seat, the leather creaking slightly as he turned his upper body around to look back at you.
even with your arm covering your face, you could feel the weight of his stare burning through the fabric of your sleeve.
then, a low huff of a laugh escaped him.
“silly girl,” caleb murmured, the word dripping with an irritatingly affectionate playfulness. “still a sleepyhead. some things really don't change, do they?”
gideon steered the car back onto the main road, the smooth roll of the tires replacing the chaotic noise of the terminal. “i don't know about that. she’s grown up quite a bit while you were gone, caleb. she’s not the little girl who used to cry when you stole her slippers anymore. she's at state uni now. got her own thing going on.”
there was another pause, a tiny stretch of time where the only sound was the hum of the engine.
“yeah,” caleb said, his voice shifting into a tone that was harder to read, more contemplative. “i can see that. she looks different.”
“don't let the height fool you, though,” gideon chuckled, glancing at the rearview mirror. “she’s still a menace. but yeah, you probably can't carry her around with one arm like you used to.”
“please, i can absolutely still carry her with one arm.” a fleshy slap echoed through the front seat—the sound of caleb smacking his own bicep or forearm or whatever to prove a point. “these muscles aren't just for show, gid. i could lift her and her bags without breaking a sweat.”
god, the urge to open your eyes was so overwhelming it was almost a physical ache in your chest. you wanted to throw your arm off your face, look at him, and tell him to shut his stupid mouth just like old times. you wanted to see exactly how broad his shoulders had gotten, wanted to see if his hair was still cut short and neat, wanted to see if that annoying, arrogant little smirk was plastered across his face. but the weight of your own realization—the sudden consciousness of him not just as caleb, but as a man who could effortlessly lift you—kept you completely pinned to the leather.
“whatever you say, pilot boy.” gideon laughed, shaking his head as he accelerated down the open road.
the comfortable rhythm of their conversation was broken by the sharp click of gideon’s turn signal. the car slowed down, veering off the main highway and pulling up.
“alright, cay, this is me,” gideon unbuckles his seatbelt with a crisp click. “i need to drop by this studio for that project archive i told you about. you take the wheel from here. just park the car back at granny's house when you guys get back.”
“yeah, sure. no problem,”
wait, what?
gideon was leaving?
panic flared up again as you stayed perfectly still, listening intently to the rustle of clothes, the sound of gideon opening the passenger door, and the heavy thud of his boots hitting the gravel outside. there was a brief exchange of instructions—gideon reminding caleb about a loose wire near the stereo dashboard—and then the driver’s side door opened. the car dipped slightly under a new weight as caleb slid effortlessly into the driver's seat.
the door slammed shut. the heavy, reassuring presence of gideon was gone, replaced entirely by caleb’s proximity.
he adjusted the seat, sliding it back a few inches to accommodate his longer legs. then, the car smoothly pulled back onto the road. and god, the silence that followed was deafening. without gideon’s easygoing banter filling the cabin, the only sound was the low hum of the engine and the rush of the wind through your open window.
should you open your eyes now? if you wake up now, it'll look natural. just a casual yawn, and—
a subtle tug pulled at the crown of your head.
it wasn't painful. it was incredibly light. you felt a hand reaching over the center console, two fingers winding carefully around a single stray strand of your hair, giving it a teasing little pull.
your eyes flew open.
through the gap between the front seats, you finally saw him—caleb driving effortlessly with his right hand on the steering wheel, his left hand extended backward over the armrest with his thumb and index finger still lightly holding the end of your hair. he didn't even look back at you; his eyes remained fixed on the road ahead.
but his eyes flicked upward, locking onto yours through the rearview mirror.
the corners of his eyes crinkled instantly, breaking into that utterly familiar expression. that lazy, arrogant, beautiful smile spread across his lips.
“got a good sleep, pips? your gege's back now.”
the nickname—the one he used to demand you call him when you were kids just to annoy you—should have earned him an immediate eye-roll or a sharp kick to the back of his seat. but you couldn't even bring yourself to reply. your tongue felt thick, glued to the roof of your mouth.
you just stared, agape, taking him in for the first time in four whole years.
he looked like a man.
caleb's eyes flicked up to the mirror again, catching the exact moment your gaze drifted from his face down to his shoulders, and then back up. your wide-eyed, breathless silence was loud. too loud.
for a split second, the easy smirk on caleb’s face faltered. his prominent adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, a sudden patch of color rising along his neck. he cleared his throat, a slightly tense sound, and quickly looked back at the road, his fingers letting go of your hair as he pulled his hand back to the steering wheel.
“what's with the face?” he asked, trying hard to force that casual lilt back into his tone. “you look like you've seen a ghost.”
you quickly sat up, pulling your legs inward and smoothing down your shirt, desperately trying to find your footing. “you look different, that's all. the academy must be starving you if you've gone all that just to survive.”
“starving? please. they feed us like racehorses,” caleb scoffed, though the response felt a little rehearsed, a little too quick as he kept his eyes glued strictly on the asphalt ahead. “but thanks for noticing. glad to know my hard work isn't lost on a provincial girl like you.”
you leaned your cheek against your hand, looking out the side window to hide the heat rushing into your own face.
somehow, the conversation didn't go the way you had scripted it in your head over the last four years. you hadn't greeted each other like two people who had spent their entire lives attached at the hip, starved for each other's presence. there were no desperate questions, no breathy laughter, no clumsy, overwhelming hugs that left you smelling like his cologne.
instead, you were simply staring out the side window, watching the green expanse of the provincial rice fields blur into a smear of dusty emerald, and then he was simply driving.
“so, state u,” caleb started, “gran says you're keeping busy. how's the actual college life treating you?”
“it's fine,” you replied, your voice matching his even tone. you kept your eyes fixed on a passing billboard outside. “it's a lot of reading, but my blockmates are nice. i usually hang out with maya and javi after our afternoon lectures. we found this cheap diner near the campus that serves really good sizzling meat.”
“maya and javi,” caleb repeated, testing the names on his tongue as if trying to fit them into the map of your life. he nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the road. “that's good. it's good that you found your crowd.”
“mm. javi's in the theater crew too, so we usually walk home together when rehearsals run late.” you added, offering the detail up like a shield.
why did it end up like this? why did the air between you feel so thick, so cautious, as if a single wrong word would shatter a boundary neither of you had openly acknowledged yet?
“what about you?” you asked, trying to sound completely nonchalant, keeping your gaze trained on the side mirror. “must be nice up at the academy. you probably have a whole new circle of pilot friends.”
“yeah. the guys in my barracks are solid. we complain about the flight instructors together. it keeps us sane.”
and then, that's where it happened.
“any... girls?” the word slipped out of your mouth a little too smoothly, a little too practiced. “i mean, the uniform probably does half the work for you up there.”
the car went starkly silent.
caleb didn't answer right away. he shifted his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening just a fraction before he relaxed them. it took a long drawn-out pause for him to reply.
finally, a gentle smile spread across his face—but it wasn't his usual mischievous smirk.
“yeah,” caleb said quietly, his eyes softening as he looked out at the highway ahead. “actually, there is. i've got a pretty massive crush on someone from the nursing college nearby. i'm planning on courting her this coming semester.”
oh. okay.
you didn't say anything for a moment, letting the sound of his confession hang in the air between you like heavy smoke.
”that's nice. good luck with that.”
wanting nothing more than to disappear into the upholstery, you leaned further back against the leather of the seat. and you lifted your legs again, resting your ankles on the open window frame just like you had earlier. you stared straight into the blinding, white-hot summer sunlight, letting the glare sting your eyes until they watered, using the heat as an excuse for the burning sensation behind your eyelids.
college really is horrible. it really does change everything and everyone, doesn't it? it takes the boy who used to swear he'd never care about anyone more than you, sends him away for four years, and brings back a stranger who belongs to someone else.
you watched the provincial scenery go into a blurring motion as caleb pressed down on the accelerator, speed being his only response to the quiet.
suddenly, caleb cleared his throat, a nervous cough breaking the quiet. “what about you, pips? you mentioned that javi guy. do you... have a boyfriend now?”
you blinked, your eyes still stinging from the sunlight. you didn't even have to think about it. “no.”
within minutes, caleb steered the car smoothly up the gravel driveway of granny's home, pulling up right under the shade of the large mango tree. the engine died with a final, shuddering purr, leaving only the loud clicking of the cicadas in the backyard to fill the space.
you kept your ankles resting on the window frame, your eyes closed against the light.
then, you heard the rustle of caleb's heavy duffel bag being pulled from the footwell, and the solid thud of his boots hitting the gravel. but instead of walking straight to the house, the sound of his footsteps looped around to your side of the car.
a shadow suddenly fell over your face, blocking out the harsh heat of the sun.
you opened your eyes a fraction, only to see that caleb was leaning his arms against the window frame, his broad shoulders completely framing the opening. he looked down at you, a golden-boy smile playing on his lips.
“we're here, sleepyhead,” his voice still carried that warmth that used to make you feel so safe, but now it just felt like salt on an open wound. “aren't you coming out? granny’s probably already waiting at the door.”
you quickly averted your gaze, looking past his shoulder at the porch of the house, avoiding his eyes entirely.
“you go ahead.”
—
the heavy heat of mid-afternoon had dissolved by the time your eyes fluttered open, replaced by the long-shadowed stillness of late gold.
you groaned, a sharp ache radiating through your lower back and neck from the impossibly cramped angle you’d been knotted into across the backseat. four hours. you had actually managed to pass out for four hours in the belly of a dead car.
you pushed the heavy car door open, your thin slippers slapping against the gravel as you stepped out into the humid yard. stretching your arms over your head until your joints popped, you shook out your numb legs, half-hopping, half-limping your way up the porch steps and pulling the screen door open with a lazy rattle.
the house was strangely quiet.
“granny?” you called out, your voice still thick and raspy from sleep. no answer. you tilted your head, wandering past the dark living room where the old wooden rocking chair sat still, and followed a faint metallic clinking toward the kitchen.
when you stepped over the threshold, the words caught squarely in your throat.
caleb, completely shirtless, bent over the kitchen sink with his back turned to you. a chaotic battlefield of rusty wrenches, tattered rags, and rolls of teflon tape were scattered all over the tiled countertop beside him. he was clearly deep-cleaning the drain and trying to muscle a stubborn leaking pipe back into place, his skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat that caught the amber sunset filtering through the small window.
from this angle, the reality of how much he had changed hit you like a physical blow. but it was when he leaned further down into the cabinet under the sink that your eyes inevitably landed on the silver chain hanging from his neck, the metal dogtag swinging loosely against his collarbone.
you swallowed hard, forcing your gaze upward, and cleared your throat loudly to break the spell. “where's granny?”
the sudden interruption made caleb flinch violently, his entire torso jerking upward in surprise as the back of his head collided with the edge of the upper cabinet.
“ouch!”
”clumsy idiot.” you muttered.
caleb slowly turned around, still wincing, and looked up at you from his crouched position. you caught the distinct, deliberate way his gaze traveled down your frame—taking in your post-nap hair, your dumb shirt, and your bare legs—before flicking back up to settle on your face. the intensity of it lasted only a fraction of a second before his easy golden-boy mask slid right back into place.
“granny went down the road,” he casually leaned his hip against the counter, completely unbothered by his lack of a shirt. “visited mrs. alvarez or someone. said she’d be back before dinner.”
trying to appear completely casual, you walked past him, keeping a careful radius of distance between your shoulder and his bare chest, and opened the refrigerator door. the cool air hit your face as you grabbed the heavy glass pitcher of water.
“look who finally decided to join the land of the living,” caleb watched you pull a glass from the cupboard. “four hours, pipsqueak? i was about to check if you still had a pulse. you sleep like a log.”
you poured the water, keeping your back to him as you scoffed. “i had to make up for the four years of peace and quiet i'm about to lose now that you're back to annoy me.”
behind you, caleb let out a bright, boyish laugh—the kind of chesty sound that filled the entire room and made him look exactly like the sixteen-year-old boy you grew up with.
“yeah, yeah, keep talking...” chuckling, he wipes his sweaty brow with the back of his forearm. he leaned closer to the table, his eyes shining with a sudden eager spark. “hey, are you free tomorrow? they opened that new amusement park by the bypass road while i was gone. i was thinking we could go. just the two of us, like old times.”
you raised the glass to your lips, using the movement to buy yourself time as his words settled heavily in your stomach. like old times. but it wouldn't be like old times. not with him looking like this, and certainly not with a nursing student waiting for him up north.
you set the glass down on the counter with a soft click, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before looking at him. “can't tomorrow. i already have somewhere to go with a friend.”
“a friend?” his brow furrowed, a deep line cutting between his eyes as he stared at you. “since when did you choose a friend over me?”
the confusion on his face was almost comical, because it was a look you knew intimately—the look caleb gave whenever the universe didn't bend to his precise specifications. it was intensely ironic, a hypocritical double standard that made you want to scream. he could go off to the city, rebuild his entire life, and find a nursing student to court, but the second you had a life outside of this gravel driveway, the rules suddenly changed?
“just a friend from state u.” you said airily, turning on your heel and walking out of the kitchen. “you're not the only one who got a change of scenery, caleb. i’m all grown up now. i actually have a life and people outside of this house.”
you hear the heavy, silent thud of his bare feet following you, the sheer mass of him trailing you into the small living room like a shadow you couldn't shake. you threw yourself onto the worn-out fabric of the sofa, grabbing the dusty remote control to click the television on.
instead of sitting down on the opposite armchair, caleb came to a halt right at the edge of the sofa, looming over you. he crossed his arms over his bare chest, his shadow completely blocking out the remaining amber light of the sunlight.
“i'm serious,” he muttered, carrying that infuriatingly paternal tone he used whenever he wanted to control a situation. “don't go hanging out with people alone just that easily. you're too trusting. the city might be a mess, but the town isn't exactly a sanctuary either. shit is unpredictable, and people have motives.”
you let out an incredulous laugh, snapping your head up to look at him.
“you should know that if you’re a grown up as you claim to be.“ caleb added.
you raised a single eyebrow, your lips curling into a mocking smile. “what are you implying, then? that you still need to protect me? that i can't handle a simple afternoon coffee without my big, strong gege holding my hand?”
caleb’s eyes narrowed, a dark glint flickering in his irises. “should i not? just because we were apart for a couple of years doesn't mean you get to be careless. you've always been too stubborn for your own good.”
“yeah, well, you should not.” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you turned your attention back to the television screen, where a loud game show was playing to an empty audience. “i'm [age] years old, caleb. i am quite literally not a kid anymore. so stop acting like a hypocrite when you're the one who—”
“let’s test that theory.”
before the breath could even leave your lungs, the cushion beside you sank violently. caleb lunged forward with a terrifying fluidity that you had never seen from him before. your brain didn't even have time to process the movement before the heavy, solid weight of his knees dug brutally into the foam of the sofa, effectively pinning the fabric down on either side of your hips.
in a fraction of a second, you were completely trapped. he had closed the distance so aggressively that you were locked between his thighs, his massive shirtless chest looming inches from your face.
“wait—what the hell!” you gasped, your hands flying up in a knee-jerk reaction to push him back, but caleb's hands shot forward, his fingers wrapping around your wrists with an unyielding grip. he didn't squeeze enough to hurt, but the absolute finality of his hold made it clear you weren't going anywhere. a slow incredibly wicked smirk spread across his lips then.
“see?” caleb murmured, leaning down just an inch closer, his hot breath fanning across your cheeks, smelling faintly of the mint gum he'd been chewing. “you couldn't even move before i did this. you can't even defend yourself, you silly girl. that means you still need me to protect you.”
up close, the heat radiating off his bare skin was intoxicating, a musky warmth that seemed to fill your entire throat. you could see the tiny pulse point fluttering at the base of his neck, right above where his silver dogtags hung, dangling loosely and brushing against your collarbone.
“you're a cheater,” you hissed. “this is a cheap shot!”
“it's a reality check,” his grip on your wrists tightened just a fraction, a wordless challenge. “tell you what. if you manage to dislodge me—if you can actually get out from under me right now—then i'll let myself believe that you aren't a kid anymore. i'll let you go on your little date tomorrow without a single word.”
“it's not a date!” you yelled, the denial tearing out of you with a sudden heat. alright, if a game of strength was what he wanted to play to prove his stupid, masculine dominance, you were going to give it to him. you knew caleb. you knew how he moved, or at least, you thought you did.
”and fine. if that's what you want, you're going to get it.”
with a swift movement, you bucked your hips upward, twisting your wrists sharply against the grain of his thumbs—a self-defense trick he had ironically taught you himself when you were fifteen. the sudden, biting leverage worked; caleb's grip slipped, his hands sliding off your skin with a faint gasp of surprise.
“ha!” you celebrated, a triumphant grin breaking across your face as you immediately reached up, your palms slamming against his broad bare shoulders to shove him off the couch.
but you had vastly underestimated your gege.
before your arms could fully extend to deliver the push, caleb utilized your own momentum against you. leaning his entire weight forward, his chest slammed into yours, knocking the wind right out of your lungs as he drove your back deep into the cushions. in the same breath, his hands caught your forearms mid-air, pinning them flat against the back of the sofa.
a loud, frustrated groan escaped your throat as your knuckles hit the fabric.
“you're cheating!” you wheezed, your legs twisting beneath his thighs, trying to find some purchase, some leverage to kick him off, but his lower body was like an anchor. “caleb, let go! in a game like this, you obviously have the advantage, you giant idiot!”
“i told you,” caleb chuckled, his chest vibrating directly against yours. the sensation of his hard pectoral muscles pressing into your softness was a sudden jolt that made your entire body go completely rigid. “those flight drills aren't just for show. you're slow, pips. you're losing your touch.”
“i am not slow!” you argued as you thrashed beneath him. you tried to wrench your left arm free, but caleb simply slid his fingers down to lace tightly through yours, pinning your hand flat against the sofa pillow.
every time you writhed to escape him, your bodies rubbed together in a way that made your skin feel like it was on fire. the friction of his denim jeans against your bare legs, the heavy slide of his chest against yours, the tight, hot grip of his fingers tangled in yours—it was completely overwhelming. caleb had stopped laughing. his breath was coming in shorter, heavier gasps now, his chest rising and falling in a ragged rhythm that mirrored your own frantic respiration.
“let... me... go,” you panted, but he stayed hovering over you, his broad shoulders completely blocking out the rest of the living room, effectively reducing your entire universe to just him. his gaze dragged slowly down from your eyes, lingering on your parted lips, before rising back up to look into your pupils with a hunger that had absolutely nothing to do with a childhood bond.
“make me.”
his hips shifted just a fraction, a subtle pressure against yours that made your heart completely halt in your chest. “tell me you don't need me anymore. say it like you mean it, and maybe i'll think about letting you up.”
if you couldn't get him off of you with pure physical force, then you might as well use your words. you needed a distraction, something so inherently mundane and unsexy.
you swallowed hard.
“caleb,” you muttered, your voice hesitant. “i... i need to pee.”
caleb blinked.
for a second, he just stared at you, his chest still rising and falling raggedly against yours. then, slowly, he began to relax the iron grip on your wrists, gently pushing his torso back to give you some breathing room.
is it working? a tiny sigh of relief bubbled in your chest. that worked, didn't it?
“hold it in.”
your eyes widened instantly. the sigh of relief died in your throat. what the fuck?!
you gasped inaudibly, your body going completely rigid all over again. instead of getting off the couch like a normal person, caleb simply shifted his weight above you. he let go of your hands entirely, but he just slid his knees slightly to the side, repositioning himself so he was hovering over you at a slight angle.
”do you remember when we were younger? whenever you felt like peeing, what did i make you do?”
your face burned a furious, hot crimson. you knew exactly what he was talking about. back when you were a pre-teen, you had a lot of difficulty with that—a stubborn, painful urinary retention issue that made you miserable during long car rides or summer afternoons. caleb, being the overprotective problem-solving idiot he was, had researched it in some random medical forum and forced a habit on you: he made you press firmly on your lower abdomen, right above the bladder, hold it tightly for ten seconds to stimulate the muscles, and then rush to the bathroom to let it out. it always worked.
but that was when you were kids.
doing that right now, with a shirtless muscular caleb hovering right between your thighs, felt entirely indecent. the innocent childhood routine had suddenly been warped into something thick with a strange intimacy...
“what the fuck?” you cussed under your breath, your voice shaking as you glared at him. “let me up, caleb. i'm serious.”
caleb didn't react to the swearing. his expression remained entirely unbothered, his jaw ticking slightly as he stared down at your flushed face. he was completely serious.
“hold it in,” he repeated. “then press on it with your hand for ten seconds.” he paused, his eyes narrowing as he scanned your face. “unless... you don't have difficulty with it anymore? you can just do it without the routine now?”
to be honest, you still had that exact same problem. the childhood difficulty hadn't magically disappeared, and the trick caleb had drilled into you was a literal physical habit you had been doing ever since. it was a secret piece of your daily life that still belonged to him, even after four years apart.
but you couldn't bring yourself to speak. you remained completely speechless, your lips parted.
caleb studied your silence for a beat longer, the corner of his mouth twitching with a shadow of that knowing smirk.
“nevermind.”
he suddenly slid his legs off the sofa and stood back up to his full height. the sudden rush of cool air where his body had just been made you feel instantly cold, exposed. caleb reached down, casually ruffling your messy hair with a quick hand, before turning on his heel.
“i should go back to fixing the sink back there before granny gets home,” he walked beyond the living room threshold, his bare feet padding softly against the wood. “go pee, pips,” he called out over his shoulder before his voice faded into the kitchen.
now you were left lying there on the cushions, entirely silent.
—
the next morning brought no relief from the heat; if anything, the humidity had thickened overnight, settling over the house like a damp woolen blanket by eight o’clock. you woke up with your skin already tacky, your hair plastered to the nape of your neck, and your mind instantly pivoting to the afternoon ahead. today was the day you were supposed to meet your friend from state u at the town plaza, and the mere thought of sitting in a crowded bus while looking unwashed was enough to make you drag your feet out of bed with a sense of urgency.
grabbing your clean clothes and a towel, you padded barefoot into the indoor bathroom, ready to submerge yourself in the shock of cold water. you twisted the plastic knob of the shower faucet.
nothing.
not even a rusty trickle.
you frowned, turning it all the way until the plastic creaked, but the pipes only answered with a mocking hiss.
ugh, caleb.
he had been elbow-deep in the plumbing just yesterday evening, claiming he was deep-cleaning and repairing the lines, and now the entire bathroom was bone-dry. he had probably shut off the main valve or misaligned the pressure tubes with his supposed logistical training.
with a frustrated huff, you realized your choices were entirely limited. you couldn't wait for granny to get back from the market to fix it, and you certainly weren't going to knock on caleb’s bedroom door to ask him for a favor after the suffocating display on the living room sofa.
there was only one alternative.
you shed your clothes and reached for a thin cotton sarong with a batik pattern that had grown incredibly soft from years of granny running it through the wash. you wrapped the fabric tight around your chest, tucking the edge securely over your breasts, and gathered your shampoo, soap, and a plastic basin.
if the modern plumbing was compromised, you’d have to do it the old-fashioned way.
the backyard was a secluded narrow strip of land shielded from the neighbors by a dense, unruly wall of trees and overgrown leaves. tucked into the furthest corner, sitting on a moss-slick concrete slab, was the old manual pump-well. the heavy iron looked ancient, its dark blue paint peeling away to reveal patches of orange rust, a relic from your childhood that hadn't been fully utilized since granny got the indoor electric pump installed years ago.
you set your basin down on the concrete and approached the pump, wrapping your fingers around the long iron handle.
you pushed down, and the lever didn't even budge.
“hnggggh!” you tried again, putting your entire weight into it, your slippers sliding slightly on the mossy concrete as you forced the iron arm upward to prime the cylinder. a screeching groan echoed from the metal throat of the pump, a sound so loud it felt like it was tearing through the quiet morning. your breath caught, your chest heaving against the tight tuck of the sarong as you pumped frantically, trying to coax the groundwater up through the dry valves. a bead of sweat rolled down from your temple, tracing a hot line down your neck as you struggled, your face flushing with a mix of physical exertion and mounting frustration.
“you're going to break your back doing it like that.”
your hands froze on the lever as you whipped your head around, your heart doing a sudden flip against your ribs that had absolutely nothing to do with the heavy lifting.
woah.
caleb looked like he had just walked straight out of a sports commercial—wearing a gray athletic tank top that clung to the damp contours of his chest and black gym shorts that showed off the lean, powerful definition of his thighs. his skin was flushed a warm pink, covered in a fine glistening sheen of sweat with a white towel slung carelessly around his neck.
he took a slow step into your space, his eyes tracking the frantic rise and fall of your chest beneath the thin cotton fabric of the sarong. his gaze flicked from your flushed cheeks, down to your strained shoulders, and finally settled on the rusted handle of the pump-well.
“just got back from a five-kilometer loop around the bypass road,” he tilted his head, a small smirk beginning to tug at the corner of his lips as he took in your disheveled state. “and i come back to find my pipsqueak fighting a piece of old iron. let me guess—the bathroom pipes aren't cooperating?”
“yeah, because of you.”
you pointed an accusing finger at his chest. “you were the one messing with the plumbing yesterday, caleb. i don't know what kind of aerospace engineering logic you applied to granny’s bathroom, but it's completely dry. so yes, the pipes aren't cooperating because you broke them.”
caleb didn't even have the decency to look guilty.
he just stood there, the corner of his mouth twitching upward into an intensely sarcastic smile that made you want to kick his shins. he listened to your scolding with an amused quiet indulgence, like he was watching a small kitten hiss at him through a window.
how annoying.
he didn't even offer an excuse. instead, he took a sudden step forward into your space. “calm down, let me help you.”
instinctively, your heels slid back against the mossy concrete, your arms crossing tightly over the knot of your sarong to keep it secure against your chest. but caleb wasn't looking at you—not yet. his eyes were on the rusted blue lever. he brushed past you, his sun-warmed shoulder cutting through your personal bubble, and wrapped his large hand around the iron handle right where yours had been just seconds ago.
and within two pumps, a thick gushing stream of crystal-clear groundwater burst from the spout, splashing loudly into the plastic basin below.
it was going alright now, thankfully.
you stood a step back, your tongue tucked behind your teeth as you tried to look anywhere but at him. but you couldn't help it. your eyes inevitably traced the flexion of his bicep every time he pulled the lever.
and then—splat!
caleb pushed the lever down too fast, and a full burst of water caught the edge of the basin, ricocheting straight up and hitting you square in the face.
“hey!” the freezing groundwater immediately drenched your forehead, eyelashes, and cheeks, running down the front of your neck and soaking the top line of your cotton sarong.
caleb froze instantly. the sarcastic smirk vanished from his face, replaced by a sudden wide-eyed look of genuine panic. “oh—oops, i'm sorry,” he frantically dropped the iron handle and reached out with both hands, his white gym towel already bunching in his fingers. “i didn't mean to torque it that hard. are you okay? did it get in your nose?”
as a payback, you didn't even give him the chance to wipe your face. before he could step closer with the towel, you lunged downward, scooping a palmful of the freezing water straight out of the filled basin and throwing it upward with a vindictive flick of your wrist.
splat!
the water slapped caleb right across the jaw and eyes, head snapping back in surprise before he shook it aggressively from side to side—exactly like a wet golden retriever trying to shake off a bath—sending a spray of droplets flying from the wet strands of his hair.
he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, a boyish grin breaking through his wet features.
“serves you right.”
“alright, fair enough,” he chuckled, his voice dropping back into that rumbling cadence as he looked down at you.
then, his eyes flicked past your shoulder, landing on the small plastic tray sitting on the concrete slab—the bottle of shampoo, the bar of soap, and the clean towel you had neatly laid out.
“so,” caleb leaned one hand against the cool iron body of the pump, his gaze tracking a slow line from the soap back up to your wet face. “are you getting all washed up and pretty for that day out with your friend?”
you lifted your chin, “yup, i am.”
caleb’s grin hardened, freezing into a rigid imitation of a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
the silence of the backyard rushed back in, thick and suffocating, punctuated only by the rhythmic drip... drip... drip of the water from the spout into the overflowing basin.
“right,” his eyes tracked a slow path down to the wet fabric of your sarong. the thin cotton had absorbed the splash, turning translucent where it clung tightly to the curve of your chest and the dip of your waist. “the friend from state u. the one you walk home with?”
“javi,” you reached up, squeezing the excess water out of your hair strands, letting the drops splash onto the concrete between your feet. “we're going to the plaza. he wants to check out this old second-hand bookstore, and then we're getting dinner.”
“dinner?” caleb repeated, the word sounding flat, heavy, like a stone dropped into mud. “sounds like a lot of effort for a casual classmate.”
“he's not just a classmate, caleb. he's my best friend at university,” you stepped forward, intending to pick up your shampoo bottle, but caleb didn't move an inch. his broad shoulder remained firmly in your line of sight. “now, if you're done breaking things and splashing me, can you continue pumping the water so i can actually wash my hair? i'm going to be late.”
caleb looked at you for a long unreadable beat. then, a familiar smirk began to pull at the corner of his lips—but it was different this time. it was the calculating version of his smile, the one he wore right before he flipped a chessboard.
“sure, anything for my pipsqueak.”
he reached down, wrapping his fingers around the iron handle again, and began to pump. but he didn't do it quickly. he did it with a slow, agonizingly steady rhythm.
“you know, it's just a bit funny. four years away, and the first thing you do when i get back is run off to the city with some guy i’ve never met. makes a guy feel a little replaced.”
“you weren't replaced,” you muttered, leaning over the basin to scoop up some water to wet your hair, the movement causing your sarong to stretch tight across your back. “you left. there's a difference. you went to the academy, you got your own life, your own barracks... your own nursing student.”
the words slipped out before you could stop them, bitter and sharp.
“what did you say?”
“i said you have your own life,” you repeated stubbornly, forcing yourself to straighten up and look him in the eye. “so don't act like i'm the one breaking rules here. go save your overprotective routine for the girl from the nursing college. she's... the one you're planning to court, right?”
the iron handle came to a sudden dead stop.
the water ceased its gushing, reducing to a trickling stream that dripped lazily into the basin.
instead of shooting back with a witty remark, caleb simply averted his gaze. his long eyelashes fluttered as he blinked rapidly, his eyes tracking a random crack on the wet concrete slab. for the first time since he stepped out of that terminal, he looked... guilty.
almost... shameful?
“what, lost your tongue?” you straightened up from the basin, squeezing the wet fabric of your sarong tighter over your chest.
“you stand here lecturing me about hanging out with a friend, acting like you’re still my overprotective—ugh, i don't even know, when you’re literally planning to bring a new girl home next semester.” you purse your lips together, but it's too late to stop now. “you're such a hypocrite, caleb. go save your little 'hold it in' routines and your grand muscle displays for your precious nursing student. see if she actually tolerates your stupid, suffocating mind games, because frankly, i am so sick of hearing about how much you're moving on while i'm just supposed to sit here and—”
you cut yourself off, the words freezing in your throat. your heart did a violent terrifying drop into your stomach.
fuck.
you had just said entirely too much. the stinging venom in your voice hadn't sounded like a childhood best friend being annoyed; it had sounded like a deeply bitter jealous girl who was bleeding all over the concrete.
caleb's head snapped back up. the guilt in his eyes vanished, replaced by a sudden wide-eyed look of absolute shock. he swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing sharply as he stared at your face.
“there... is no nursing student,”
you paused. “huh?”
“i-i made her up,” caleb admitted.
”i invented her the exact second i got into the car yesterday. because you were looking at me like i was just a distant cousin.” he takes a deep breath, eyes wandering away while he furrowed his eyebrows. “you were so casual, so polite, talking about your university and your blockmates like my four years away didn't even matter to you. i got... i got terrified. i thought you completely outgrew me.”
and then, his eyes went back to yours. ”i've never even had the thought to get a girlfriend. i haven't looked at another girl that way since the day i left this hometown.”
you stood frozen in utter surprise, your mind completely blanking out. what the hell? your hands numbed against the cotton of your sarong, your mouth opening slightly but no sound coming out. how were you even supposed to react to that? the chess piece you thought he was playing to move on from you was nothing but a sick desperate lie to get a reaction out of you...
caleb let out a ragged sigh, a bitter self-deprecating chuckle rumbled deep in his bare chest. he looked down at his own wet gym shoes, shaking his head. “i'm such an idiot. i spent four actual years up at that academy staring at flight panels, thinking about nothing else other than coming back home to this house, to you... and just holding you in my arms all over again. but gideon's right. college really did a number on us. you have your own world now.”
he looked you straight in the eye then, his irises dark, intense, and swimming with a vulnerability that completely stripped him bare. “and i just... i missed—”
he stopped himself mid-sentence.
his jaw tensed, eyelids blinking rapidly as a sudden crimson blush bloomed furiously across his cheeks and spread down to his neck. he bit his lower lip, tearing his gaze away from your face and looking out toward the dense wall of trees.
your heart was now hammering so violently against your ribs you were certain he could see it lifting the thin fabric of your sarong.
“i was scared too,” you whispered, breaking the quiet before you could lose your nerve.
caleb’s head snapped back toward you, his eyes wide.
and you clenched your own fists against your thighs, keeping your eyes trained firmly on the concrete between your feet, too shy to meet his gaze. “the only reason i was acting like that in the car... was because i thought you came back as a stranger. you got so big, and you looked so different, and then you started talking about that girl... and i just thought you didn't need me anymore.” you swallowed the lump in your throat.
”all this time, caleb... i missed you. so much.”
there it was, laid out in the open.
caleb’s eyes widened in absolute awe, his breath catching so loudly in his throat it sounded like a gasp. he could do nothing else but to stare down at you, his chest heaving silently beneath his gray tank top.
but then—shreek!
the metal screech of the front gates swinging open suddenly cut through the heavy quiet, the sharp sound making the both of you flinch and snap your heads toward the driveway at the exact same time.
that must be granny.
just like that, your confession was left hanging in the damp morning air, completely cut off as you both went inside the house with granny's slow footsteps shuffling into view. she was carrying two heavy plastic bags filled with mangoes and avocadoes from the early market, her small frame leaning slightly to the side from the weight.
“oh, you're both awake,” granny mumbled, her voice carrying its usual sleepy cadence.
without a word, caleb fell back into his dutiful grandson role, though his face was still flushed a light pink.
he stepped away from you, his large frame moving quickly to take the heavy bags from her hands. you swallowed the lump in your throat and followed him into the kitchen, desperately trying to smooth down the edges of your cotton sarong so you didn't look as completely disheveled as you felt.
the two of you stood by the kitchen counter, casually helping her arrange the fruits into the wicker basket. every time your fingers accidentally brushed against his while reaching for a mango, an awkward jolt went straight up your arm.
granny paused, placing a hand on her hip as she looked at you funnily. “why do you have a sarong on this early? and your hair is wet.”
“the bathroom pipes aren't working, granny,” you explained quickly, your voice a little too high. “i was trying to use the pump-well outside.”
“ah, that old thing,” granny sighed, shaking her head and failing to notice the suffocating tension between you and caleb. “caleb, i told you to fix that last night. look what you did to your sister.”
caleb didn't say anything, just let out a small hum, his throat bobbing as he placed the last avocado in the basket.
“well, i'm quite tired from the walk,” granny rubs her lower back as she turned toward the stairs. “i'm going to take a short nap. caleb, come upstairs for a bit and help me find my maintenance meds in the cabinet. my eyes are too blurry today.”
“yes, gran. i'll be right up,” caleb replied without a single second of hesitation.
he finally turned his head to look at you as granny started her slow climb up the wooden steps. his eyes were still heavy with everything you both had just admitted out by the well, but he couldn't stay. he gave you one unreadable look before turning on his heel, his broad back disappearing up the staircase behind her.
and then, you were just standing there alone in the quiet kitchen.
in a wet sarong. without a proper bath.
fuck's sake.
you let out a long breath, your shoulders slumping as the reality of the situation hit you. your skin felt sticky from the groundwater, your hair was damp and tangled, and you were supposed to meet javi at the plaza later. with the bathroom completely dry and caleb occupied upstairs, a real shower was out of the question now.
muttering a curse under your breath, you walked back to your room, peeling the damp translucent cotton off your skin. you were forced to just wipe yourself down with a dry towel and change back into your casual home clothes.
knock. knock.
“you in there?“
caleb’s voice bled through the thin wood of the door, the sudden wrap of knuckles against your bedroom making you jump half a foot in the air. you quickly smoothed down the front of your fresh t-shirt, took a shaky breath to steady the frantic drumming in your chest, and pulled the door open.
caleb had finally put on a new shirt—a slightly faded black tee that somehow made his broad shoulders look even more intimidating in the cramped hallway—but he was standing there completely awkwardly. his hands were shoved deep into his gym shorts pockets, his elbows jutting out slightly, and he was deliberately looking at a framed vintage cross-stitch on the wall instead of looking at you. a faint, lingering trace of that dark crimson blush was still dusting the tips of his ears.
“uh, yeah?“
caleb cleared his throat, his adam's apple bobbing before he finally shifted his gaze down to meet your eyes.
“granny... uh, gran told me to get the bathroom pipes sorted before she wakes up from her nap,” caleb muttered as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “she said since i was the one who messed them up, i have to fix them right now. but i... i need an extra pair of hands to hold the wrench from the other side of the basin valve.”
he paused, his eyes searching yours with a quiet hesitant look.
“come help me, please?”
—
the bathroom felt smaller than it ever had before.
you stood right over him, bare feet pressed against the cool porcelain of the floorboards, holding a heavy roll of teflon tape and a pair of rusted pliers in your hands. caleb was sitting flat on the floor, his long legs bent awkwardly in the tight space between the toilet bowl and the lower basin cabinetry.
neither of you spoke.
every rustle of his clothing, every heavy breath he exhaled, and every metallic click of his wrench against the pipe joint sounded like a damn gunshot in the cramped room.
your thumb kept sliding over the screen of your phone, lighting up the lock screen to check the digital clock. it was getting closer to the afternoon.
caleb noticed. even though his head was tucked beneath the porcelain basin, his shoulders went completely rigid the third time your phone screen illuminated the dim corner of the room.
then, the scraping sound of the wrench died out. caleb remained perfectly still for a long beat, his forehead resting lightly against the cold underside of the sink as if he were gathering a desperate amount of courage. slowly, he pulled himself back, his broad shoulders clearing the cabinet door as he looked up at you.
“are you...” caleb's voice cracked slightly before he cleared his throat, forcing the gravelly pitch down. “are you still going to the city with your friend?” he reached for the valve handle, his long fingers wrapping around the plastic knob with a hesitation that was entirely uncharacteristic of him.
the question was asked way too softly, way too hesitantly. he sounded small.
you froze, the roll of teflon tape slipping a fraction of an inch between your fingers. the truth was, the second those words had left your mouth by the backyard well—the second you had admitted that you spent four years missing him in the quiet of your bedroom—you had already resolved to cancel the day out. you didn't want to go to the plaza. you didn't want to browse second-hand books or eat dinner across from javi while your skin was still burning from caleb's touch.
but as you looked down at caleb’s upturned face, at the raw vulnerable waiting in his eyes...
“yes, i'm still going.”
why did you say it? you didn't even know. maybe it was a reflex, a desperate attempt to rebuild the walls he had so easily torn down out by the well. maybe you were terrified of what would happen if you stayed here alone with him while granny slept outside.
caleb didn't flare up. he didn't snap or offer a sarcastic remark. he just let out a low quiet hum, nodding his head twice as his eyes dropped back down to the plastic valve.
his reaction wasn't what you expected, and it made the hollow ache in your chest widen into something unbearable. what was supposed to happen now? were you both really going to sit here in the bathroom and pretend like you hadn't just shattered the childhood boundary? were you going to act like you hadn't confessed to missing him until it hurt?
“pips,” caleb said, his tone entirely too polite while he reached his hand upward without looking. “hand me the pliers. and... crawl down here for a second. i need you to hold the main pipe line steady while i tighten this last bolt, or the pressure's going to crack the plastic again.”
“okay,” you murmured instantly, doing exactly as you were told. you dropped the teflon tape onto the lid of the toilet and crouched down beside him.
the space was incredibly cramped.
caleb's position lied flat on his back on the bathroom floor. his head and shoulders are pushed completely inside the dark open cabinet space beneath the sink basin so he can reach the pipes. and because his legs are so long, the lower half of his body is sticking out.
“alright, look,” caleb muttered, his voice echoing hollowly against the underside of the sink. he pointed a long finger at the heavy gray intake pipe. “when i start turning the wrench on this coupling bolt, the whole pipe is gonna want to twist with it. if it twists too much, it’ll snap the plastic threads inside the wall. i need you to take the pliers, clamp them onto the upper collar, and hold it perfectly still. think you can do that?”
and because you have to help him by holding a pipe that is also inside that dark cabinet, you'd have to lean your entire upper body over his chest while you crouched beside his hips and thighs.
“i'm not completely useless, caleb.” you whispered back.
“never said you were,” he murmured, his eyes flickering up to meet yours beneath the sink. for a second, his gaze lingered on your lips, before he blinked and forced his attention back to the metal wrench in his hand. “alright. on three. one... two... three.”
you clamped the pliers onto the collar and squeezed with all your might. you could hear caleb grunting below you, biceps bunching as he threw his strength into turning the stubborn rusted bolt. but the second the wrench caught, your hand slipped on the grease-slicked metal. the pliers clattered loudly against the tiles, and the gray pipe twisted with a nasty screech.
“wait, wait! stop!” you gasped, your fingers scrambling to grab the tool again.
“you're letting it turn!” caleb yelled, though it was more of a breathless panicked laugh than an actual scold. he had to throw his arm over your shoulder, his large hand coming down over yours to help you steady the pliers. “there, hold it tight like that and squeeze!”
“i am squeezing! your hands are too big, you're blocking my grip!”
“okay, okay, teamwork, remember?” caleb chuckled, his breath fanning across your neck. “let me reposition. you hold the handle with both hands, and i’ll just use raw force on the wrench. ready? go."
this time, you locked your fingers around the pliers, planting your heels firmly against the tiled floor and leaning your entire body weight into the tool to keep the line steady. caleb grunted again, a low sound deep in his throat, and with one shove of his arm, the rusted coupling bolt finally gave way, sliding smoothly into place with a satisfying click!
“is that it?” you panted, your knuckles white from gripping the pliers.
“uh, turn the valve. let's see.”
still hovering over him, you reached out and twisted the small plastic knob all the way to the left. for a second, there was a breathless silence—and then, the hollow hiss in the walls was replaced by the rushing water. you both waited, eyes wide, staring at the joint.
not a single drop leaked out. it was perfectly, completely dry.
a breathless laugh then tore out of your chest before you could stop it. “we actually did it!”
“good job, pips.” caleb smiled, his hands coming up to clap against his thighs as he slid himself out from under the sink. ”this is exactly like that summer when we tried to build that stupid treehouse behind the old chapel. remember? you dropped the entire box of nails into the mud and blamed it on a stray dog.“ a nostalgic smile broke across his face as he sat back on his heels.
you wiped the stray pools of water from the floor with an old rag, while caleb casually tossed the teflon tape and pliers back into his plastic toolbox. “because it was a stray dog! it barked at me and i got scared, and need i remind you who tried to use a literal rock because he forgot to bring a hammer?”
“hey, the rock worked for at least three planks,” caleb defended himself, catching the rag you threw at him with a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that specific, beautiful way they always did when he was genuinely happy. “besides, i was twelve. cut me some slack. at least i didn't cry when the roof fell through.”
“i did not cry because the roof fell, caleb, i cried because a caterpillar fell on my shoulder!”
“same thing, baby. you were a total baby.”
“says the guy who still can't sleep without a fan on because he thinks the darkness makes the room smaller,” you shot back, leaning your shoulder against the bathroom wall.
caleb paused, his grin softening into something incredibly tender, leaving behind the golden-boy warmth you had starved for over the last four years.
“i missed this.” he casually reached out, his long fingers gently tugging at a loose strand of your hair that had dried in a messy curl against your cheek. “i missed you making fun of me. the guys at the academy are too polite. it’s boring.“
“yeah?” your heart did that erratic skip against your ribs again as his thumb lightly brushed against the edge of your jawline. “well... someone has to keep your ego in check.”
“exactly, can't have me flying planes with an oversized head, right?”
you finally stood up, your knees cracking slightly as you broke the spell of the small space.
“i'm gonna... i should probably check the kitchen. granny bought some fish earlier, so i'll start cooking lunch before she wakes up.” you murmured, keeping your voice light as you took a step toward the exit, your hand already reaching for the brass doorknob.
you didn't even get to wrap your fingers around the metal when—
thud.
a large palm slammed flat against the wood of the door right in front of your face, the sudden vibration rattling through the frame. you jumped in surprise, your breath catching sharply in your throat as you instinctively whirled around.
“don't.”
caleb was looming directly over you, but it was the look on his face that made your heart stop. the boyish smile from seconds ago was entirely gone. instead, his features were twisted into a deeply troubled, desperate grimace.
“don't go.”
you frowned. “what do you mean? i'm just going to the kitchen—”
“don't go to the city today,” he interrupted, his tone shifting into something bolder as he stepped even closer, effectively trapping your smaller frame beneath his. “i only have two months here. that's it. sixty days before they drag me back to the barracks and put me back in a cockpit. so...”
caleb hesitates, but he takes a deep breath.
“can you just stay here? can you... spend every single day with me before i have to leave again?"
you stared up at him, your mouth parting slightly. fuck, you were blushing now. it must be so visible.
caleb’s hand—the one planted firmly beside your head—slowly curled into a tight fist against the wood of the door. “it feels like i missed you a hell of a lot more than you missed me.” his voice dropped an octave, turning into a vulnerable murmur. “you have no idea how many nights i spent staring at the ceiling of that concrete bunk, just waiting to see your face this close again.”
speechless, you could only look up at him, your mind completely short-circuiting under his honesty.
desperate to find some sort of anchor, desperate to make sense of the dizzying reality that caleb—your childhood friend that you should see as a brother—was practically begging for your attention, you swallowed hard and blurted out the first defensive defense your brain could manufacture.
“why didn't you get a girlfriend there?” you try, blinking rapidly as you struggled to maintain his gaze. “i mean it, caleb. you're... you're handsome, and you're well-built. it’s completely impossible that you didn't at least have girls trying to talk to you or court you up there.“
“why didn't i get one?” a slow smile broke through his troubled expression, his eyes glittering with a sudden amusement. he tilted his head down, his gaze dropping briefly to your small hands, before snapping back up to lock directly into your eyes.
“because... i prayed every single day. i closed my eyes at night and prayed that you wouldn't have a boyfriend by the time i got back.” you press your head further against the wood of the door, just when caleb nears his face close enough. “the thought of another man touching what belongs to this house... what belongs to me... would really, deeply upset me."
he leaned down a fraction of an inch further, but then he suddenly breaks the proximity by pulling back.
“and... did you just say i'm handsome?” caleb smiled wider, his thumb trailing down the doorframe to lightly graze the very edge of your wet shoulder. “so... is that an admission? am i attractive to you?”
am i attractive to you?
your lips parted, but no sound came out.
the sheer audacity of him—shifting from a desperate aching boy to this dangerously confident creature in the span of a single breath—was enough to make your throat go dry. you wanted to push him away, wanted to snap at him for using that rumbling tone on you, but you couldn't.
“you're an idiot, caleb.”
“that's not an answer, pips.”
he moved his hand from the doorframe, his fingers sliding slowly down the side of your neck. his palm was warm, a stark contrast to the chilled skin of your collarbone where the groundwater had soaked you earlier. his thumb found the frantic pulse point fluttering at the base of your throat, pressing just firmly enough to let you know he could feel exactly how much power he held over you in this room.
just outside, through the wooden slats of these walls, granny was sleeping. the knowledge that she was just at the other side of the room—that a single loud noise, a dropped tool, or a sharp gasp would shatter the quiet of the house...
“caleb, stop,“ you breathed, the protest losing all its teeth as your fingers instinctively curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him slightly closer instead of pushing him back. “granny will...”
“i'm being quiet,” he whispered back, tilting his head until his lips were brushing the sensitive shell of your ear. “but you're driving me crazy.”
a soft whimper caught in your throat, and caleb immediately swallowed it.
“hmgh—!”
you felt his hand sliding from your neck up to your jaw, tilting your face up as his lips came down to meet yours.
it wasn't the sweet, tentative kiss of childhood friends.
it was rather heavy, desperate, and laced with an aching hunger that had been rotting inside his chest for several months.
his lips pressed firm and unyielding against yours, demanding a response you had been starving to give. you let out a muffled gasp against his mouth, and caleb took total advantage of it—his tongue slid past your teeth with a stroke that made your knees buckle.
you would have almost slid straight down the door if caleb’s other arm hadn't instantly locked around your waist.
he hoisted you up, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips through your thin shorts, dragging your lower body flush against his. the solid weight of him was overwhelming; you could feel the hard contours of his thighs and the frantic rising and falling of his chest.
you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, your fingers tangling into the short, damp strands of his hair, pulling him down further. you kissed him back with the same bitterness you’d been hoarding since he left—punishing him for the distance, for the nursing student lie, for the suffocating way he made you feel like you belonged to him even when he was hundreds of miles away.
your hands, tangled in the soft fabric of his black t-shirt, moved themselves to his shoulders, pushing against the stubborn muscle until he was forced to take a blind step backward. his heel caught against the base of the toilet, and with a muffled grunt, caleb sank down.
the plastic lid was securely closed, providing a seat that placed him directly beneath you, his knees spread wide to accommodate the sudden change in height.
you froze for a second, your breath hitching as you stood between his thighs. the sudden drop in his posture left you looking down at him, your hands still resting on his broad shoulders while he looked up at you through his eyelashes. you hesitated, your lower lip stinging from the friction of his mouth, and despite of it all, your mind kept on screaming that you were crossing a line you could never uncross.
but caleb didn't give you the chance to overthink it.
his hands reached up, palms slick with a light sheen of sweat as they wrapped firmly around the sides of your waist. with one heavy pull, he guided your hips forward. and then, your knees slid effortlessly over his thick, denim-clad thighs until you were completely straddling his lap.
“ah—”
shit, this is such an intimate position!
the impact of your lower body hitting his thighs made a gasp slip from your throat, but caleb caught it instantly again. he surged upward, his mouth slamming back over yours to smother the sound before it could echo past the wooden door.
the kiss turned frantic, fueled by the weight of your body resting completely on his. it wasn't gentle anymore. caleb’s tongue pushed deep, demanding and possessive, while his teeth lightly caught the flesh of your bottom lip, biting down just enough to make you whine into his mouth. you bit him back in retaliation, an instinctive nip that made a guttural vibration rumble deep in his chest. his hands moved from your waist, one sliding up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling roughly into your damp hair to hold your face exactly where he wanted it, while the other pressed flat against your lower back.
and then, without warning, your mind went entirely, terrifyingly blank.
a sudden rolling pressure moved beneath the thin fabric of your shorts. caleb arched his back just to grind his hips upward in a slow tilt that pressed the hard length of his arousal directly against your center.
then, a sharp jolt of pure heat shot straight up your spine, making your eyes flutter shut as your fingers clawed into the fabric of his shirt.
“caleb—” you gasped against his lips, trying to pull back just an inch to breathe.
“shh,” he breathed, his mouth instantly chasing yours, his lips brushing against your cheek, your jawline, before burying his face in the crook of your neck. his breathing was completely ragged, a suffocating thing against your collarbone. he didn't stop. his hand on your lower back moved down, a heavy palm pressing firmly against the base of your spine, and he ground his hips upward again, harder this time, forcing you to feel every single inch of how aroused he's just getting.
“please,” caleb whispered into your skin, his voice cracking. ”don't move away. please... just let me feel you like this. i’m so tired of imagining it.”
“granny will...” you whimpered, your head tilting back as his teeth lightly grazed the sensitive skin right beneath your ear. your hands were shaking against his shoulders, your lower body instinctively tilting into his next roll, a shameless surrender that made him let out a broken sigh. “caleb, if she... if she hears us...”
“she won't,” he muttered against your skin, his thumb digging firmly into your hip bone, locking you flush against him so there wasn't a single millimeter of space left between your bodies. he took a deep breath, his chest expanding hard against yours as he forced his movements to become agonizingly slow. “i’ll be quiet. just stay. please... you’re right here, you’re finally right here...”
“i'm here,” you whispered breathlessly into his ear. “i'm right here.”
your skin was beginning to sting where it pressed against his. the agonizingly slow tilts of his hips couldn't stay slow for long.
without either of you consciously deciding it, the grinding turned into a drag of weight against weight—a quiet breathless dryhumping that sent waves of heat pooling directly between your thighs.
the fabric of your loose shorts and his heavy denim rubbed together with a soft, repetitive whisper—it was the only continuous sound in the small space besides the ragged, broken cadence of your breaths. caleb’s hands were no longer just holding you; they were practically anchoring you to him. his long fingers buried into the flesh of your bum, pulling your pelvis down hard against his with every upward surge of his thighs.
“caleb—”
the name was clipped neatly from your tongue as he hitched his hips higher, a muffled whimper escaping your throat. you slapped a hand over your own mouth, your eyes widening in sheer panic as you stared at the bathroom door. the reminder of granny sleeping just down the hall felt like a wire wrapped tight around your throat.
caleb caught your wrist, gently pulling your hand away from your lips only to replace it with his own shoulder. “bite me,” he choked out a whisper. “bite the shirt. don't... don't make a sound.”
you didn't hesitate. you buried your face into the soft black cotton of his shoulder, your teeth sinking into the fabric as caleb let out a shuddering gasp.
he was a complete mess.
nothing more than a boy who looked thoroughly undone by your weight in his lap. a dark crimson blush had crawled all the way up his neck, blooming across his sharp cheekbones and turning the tips of his ears a burning pink. his long eyelashes were damp, fluttering rapidly as he kept his eyes squeezed shut.
every time your weight humped against his hard bulge, a whine would catch in his throat, a sound he desperately swallowed by burying his face into your hair.
you began to move with him, your hips rolling in a frantic rhythm that matched his pace, chasing the tight, coil of pleasure that was tightening in your stomach. this makes his fingers dig brutally into your hip bones.
“wait—hey, wait,” he wheezed, his hips stuttering against yours as he tried to find his bearings. he was trembling beneath you, the muscles in his thighs and arms locked so tight they were vibrating. he opened his eyes, irises completely blown out, to look up at you. “you're... if you move like that... i won't be able to stay quiet.”
“then don't move,” you breathed against his neck, unable to stop humping him like a starving bunny.
“i can't,” he whispered back, a tear of sheer overstimulation tracing down his flushed temple. a soft, helpless whimper broke from his chest as his hips instinctively arched upward again, completely disregarding his own warning. he ground his lower body against yours in three quick, desperate, and torturously deep strokes, his head falling back against the porcelain tank as he fought a losing battle to keep his ragged groans silent inside.
“how about...” you panted, “how about we do this standing up? would that... would that make less noise?“
caleb's movements immediately stopped, his breath hitching sharply in his throat at the suggestion. he didn't answer with words; his large hands just tightened around your waist, and with a low grunt of exertion, he stood up, lifting you effortlessly off his lap before setting your feet firmly back onto the cool tile floor.
before your knees could buckle from the sudden rush of cold air, caleb's heavy palms guided you forward. you found yourself bending over the bathroom sink, your upper body lowering until your forearms were pressed flat against the cool, smooth porcelain basin...
right in front of the wide mirror.
seconds later, the towering weight of caleb’s chest loomed against your back. he adjusted his stance, his long legs spreading slightly to frame yours, and then he crowded back into you. the thick ridge of his arousal aligned perfectly with your ass from behind, pressing hard against your thin cotton shorts.
he started moving again, but this angle... this angle was entirely different.
it was so much more exposing, so much more intense, because when you look up, your blurred vision collided directly with your reflection in the mirror.
you could see everything. you could see your own flushed breathless face, your lips swollen and wet from his kisses. and right behind you, caleb was a mess. his dark hair was thoroughly mussed, cheeks and neck burning with a furious blush.
with every thrust from him, the force of his hips sent a jolt of heat straight to your throbbing thing, making your hands slick against the porcelain as you gripped the edges of the sink for dear life.
“hngh...! caleb—”
“shh—you have to keep quiet,” caleb scrambled to scold you, but he sounded completely panicked, his breathing so loud and ragged it was a miracle granny couldn't hear it from outside. “gran's room is... it's literally right beside this. if you make a sound, i'm gonna—we're gonna get caught.”
even while trying to play the protective guide, his eyes shifted downward in the reflection. staring at your bent-down position, watching the way your body curved beneath his and how perfectly you took every push of his thighs, was enough to send caleb entirely over the edge. he went visibly harder against you, his long fingers trembling violently where they were clamped over your hip bones.
“god, shit—” caleb choked out, his forehead dropping heavily against your shoulder blade, his chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon. his rhythm turned a little clumsy, a little too eager, his hips grinding up against you with an uncoordinated, desperate hunger that made your mind spin. “i... i don't even know what i'm doing. i almost... i can't believe this is real. you're actually here. you're really letting me do this.”
“caleb, you're moving too fast,” you whimpered, your fingers slipping on the wet porcelain as he gave another firm, deep roll of his pelvis that made your thighs shake.
“i'm sorry, i'm sorry,” pressing a line of apologetic kisses along your shoulder blade, he consciously tried to slow himself down, his large hands squeezing your hips to steady the rhythm, though the intense blush on his face only deepened until his ears were practically purple. “is this better? like this?”
“yeah... yeah..”
suddenly, caleb’s hands moved from your hips, his long fingers sliding beneath the hem of your shorts.
“hey,” he choked out. “i can't... i'm not staying behind these clothes anymore. i need to feel you.”
with a frantic uncoordinated rush of movement that was entirely fueled by a lack of control, he pulled your shorts and underwear down to your knees, managing to free himself from his gym shorts at the exact same time.
the sudden sensation of his bare, burning skin pressing against your uncovered backside made you gasp. “w-wait, caleb, what are y—”
he didn't wait. caleb guided the tip of his manhood to your entrance and pushed forward. with a slow, agonizingly thick surge, he slid completely inside of you.
the size of him filled you so entirely it took your breath away. your fingers clawed at the slick porcelain of the sink, your head dropping as a high broken whimper left your lips. caleb let out a long trembling groan against your shoulder, his chest heaving violently as he buried himself to the hilt.
“fuck, fuck!”
”be quiet, caleb...”
“s-sorry, fuck.” a lazy smirk tugged at his lips in the reflection, his hands tightening on your waist. “see? i told you nobody else could fit you like this. you're shaking.”
he buries his head into your hole much, much deeper. “did you miss me this much?”
the teasing sting of his words, even now, made a surge of stubborn retaliation flare up in your chest. you didn't want him to see how completely undone you were. pulling your hands off the sink, you tried to straighten your spine and pull yourself forward, attempting to slide off his dick to break his rhythm.
it was the wrong move.
the sudden threat of losing you made caleb snap completely. his large hands locked around your hips like iron cuffs, yanked you violently backward, and thrusted into you with a force that was so deep and heavy it made your vision go entirely white.
“don't run from me,” caleb gave another hard, bruising thrust that almost hit your womb, pinning you ruthlessly against the porcelain. his upper body slammed against your back, his face completely flushed a dark, furious crimson as he forced your head up. “look at yourself in the mirror. look at what you're doing to me. look at how much of me is inside you right now.”
you couldn't even form words to respond. you were completely paralyzed by how big, how thick, and how utterly unrelenting he felt stretching you open from the inside. all you could do was grip the edges of the sink for dear life, your knuckles turning white as your body struggled to take his bare thighs slapping against yours.
yet, for all his dominant holding, caleb was a complete, crying mess.
every single time he shoved his hips forward, a pathetic little moan escaped his throat—sounds he tried so desperately to bite back, burying his face in your wet hair or chewing on his own bottom lip until it bled, utterly terrified of waking granny up outside.
“fuck, please,” caleb whimpered against your neck, penetrating you over and over again with each stroke making you cry out into your hand. he was trembling so hard the vibration traveled straight into your body. “can we... can we do this every day? just until i leave again? please. tell me you'll let me do this to you every single day?”
you couldn't even answer him. you were too occupied, and quite literally occupied, by the way he's pounding against your ass.
he was driving into you, his pelvis slamming against your backside with a wet and heavy sound. it was too much. the fullness of him stretching you open was overwhelming, and as he bottomed out completely inside you for the third time in a row, the careful restraint in your throat shattered.
“aaangh~!”
before the sound could even fade, caleb's palm snapped upward to clamp firmly over your mouth. his long fingers wrapped tightly around your jaw, crushing your lips against your teeth and effectively smothering your next desperate gasp into a muffled whimper against his skin.
“i told you to stay quiet,” but even as he scolded you, his lower body didn't slow down for a single second. if anything, your loud reaction only drove him deeper into the edge, his hips pumping into you even faster. “you're gonna wake her up. do you want gran to walk in here and see you like this? see what a bad girl you're being f'me?”
you were completely pathetic beneath him now. you couldn't breathe properly, you couldn't scream, and you couldn't pull away. all you could do was let out small broken whines against his palms, your tears wetting his fingers as your hips shook uncontrollably under the force of his penetration. you were nothing but a trembling, weeping toy for him to use.
“shit... oh god, shit, look at you,”
followed by a groan, his entire body went rigid as he reached his breaking point. needing to get even deeper, to consume every remaining inch of you before he spilled, he reached down with his other hand and hooked it beneath your thigh. with one effortless pull, he lifted your leg up to force you to balance precariously on one foot while your knee was pinned up against his waist. “fuck, i'm so close,”
the new, devastatingly wide angle opened you up completely. it only allowed him to bury his entire length into you with a series of shoving that made your head snap back.
“don't make a sound,” caleb choked out, his voice cracking into a crying whisper while he began to hammer into you with his hand pressing harder against your mouth. “keep it in. take all of me right now. just take it.”
the final push of his hips sent your mind spiraling into absolute oblivion, your body tightening around his thickness in a series of violent, helpless spasms that milked him completely. caleb let out a sharp gasp against the crown of your head, his entire muscular frame going stiff as iron against your back. he knew he was at the absolute point of no return. even through the blinding fog of his climax, that ingrained discipline and the terrifying reality of the consequences cut through his thoughts.
with a sudden, desperate grunt of exertion, caleb grabbed your hip bone with bruising force and violently pulled himself out of you.
the abrupt sensation of emptiness made a choked sob rise in your throat, but before you could even register the loss, caleb’s release hit you. he came in heavy thick spurts across your backside and the small of your lower back.
“oh, god—oh fuck, i'm coming, i'm coming,” caleb cried out, his voice completely fracturing into a loud mess. he couldn't even keep himself quiet anymore. “fuck, i love you, i love you so much. look at what you did to your caleb.”
a crying whimper escaped his lips as the final waves of his orgasm racked his large body. his hand finally slid off your face, fingers trembling as he let go of your jaw, leaving your lips swollen and burning. instead, he dropped both of his heavy palms onto the curves of your hips. “look at this fucking mess...”
meanwhile, your upper body remained slumped over the cool porcelain of the sink. your fingers were weakly splayed against the slick basin, completely devoid of any remaining strength. your knees were wobbling so much beneath your weight that the only thing keeping you from collapsing onto the tiled floor was the unyielding grip of caleb's hands on your waist.
slowly, caleb’s heavy breathing began to level out, turning into shallow, ragged pants against the nape of your neck. he opened his eyes, staring down at the reflection in the wide glass mirror.
he could only stare at the mess in absolute awe. the sight of you bent over the sink, your shorts pushed down to your knees, your skin flushed a beautiful crimson and glistening with his thick, white fluids, looked like something straight out of the sinful dreams he had hoarded in his concrete barracks. it didn't feel real. the fact that he had actually touched you, filled you, and marked you like this inside his grandmother’s house made his heart thump.
with a sigh, caleb leaned his entire weight forward, completely hugging you from behind. his broad chest pressed firmly against your back while his large arms wrapped securely around your waist to support your sagging frame. he buried his face into the side of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply as if he were trying to memorize it all over again.
“pipsqueak,” he whispered, his voice incredibly rough, gravelly. ”hey... look at me. are you okay? did i hurt you?”
you let out a small whimper, your head shifting weakly against his shoulder as you managed to nod. “yes... i'm okay.”
caleb let out a breathy chuckle, and he tilted his head to press a soft kiss against your burning cheek. “do you think we woke gran up?”
you swallowed the dryness in your throat as you stared blankly at the porcelain basin. “i... i don't know, caleb. you were really loud at the end.”
caleb hummed, a lazy, satisfied sound as his thumbs lightly stroked the sensitive skin of your hip bones, soothing the small red marks his fingers had left behind.
“well... if she's awake, she's probably just gonna think i'm clumsy and dropped the wrench again,” he murmured into your hair, his grip tightening just a fraction, pulling you closer into his warmth. “come on. let's get you cleaned up. i'll wash you down, and then... i'll cook you that braised pork you love right now. the one with the sweet soy sauce and the star anise. how would that sound, pips?”
“that sounds great, gege.”
caleb gulped at the nickname. “it's been a while since you used that on me,” his face breaks into a smile, and then he leans down to look at you in the eye instead of through the mirror. “what if you use that while we do it again tonight?”
you scoff. “you're an idiot, caleb.”
idk who needed to see this but
artist: JULY__jo on twitter/x






