"I'll take you to Moonrise." The words came out of Jocasta's mouth before she could stop them. Her eyes were serious as she met Rolan's. "If it really means that much to you, I want you to be there. I want you to help."
He almost didn't believe her. Staring into her soul like he was daring her to say it was a trick, that she was leaving him behind for being useless one more time. But she didn't. Her gaze was earnest. Firm. Full of conviction.
"You deserve to play a role in saving them. If you trust me. Do you trust me?"
"Lead the way."
Little snippet of a fic I'm going to be working on soon 🤭🤭 Rolan protecting Jocasta from the Shadow Lands.
Dipping back into my Rolan x Jocasta fanfic to get some inspiration and I'm so in love with them. HE LOVES HER SO MUCH HOLY SHIT 😍😍😍 He loves his tall silly clumsy fool of a rogue 🌩🏹
A sweet prompt from @malicedragoness for a kissing drabble! I flipped the script this time 🤭🤭
"Let's get you cleaned up." The rogue gently placed her hand on the wizard's shoulder as he stood over the broken body of his former Master. They were all covered in a fair amount of blood, but to her surprise, Rolan was smiling about it.
She wasn't entirely surprised, of course, but to see him looking downright giddy after the brutal fight that had even her wheezing, well, it made her smile at least. But for her, her first instinct was try to and mother. It wasn't her fault, she just defaulted to it. Making sure people were clean, fed, warm. It was what she did.
Rolan turned over his shoulder when he felt her touch, and smiled a little. "Alright. It will be nice getting out of these apprentice robes." He admitted, leaning back with a sigh to stretch his weary frame. Weeks of feeling on edge, tensing at the sound of footsteps, scrambling to pick up a book and look occupied.
Jocasta put her arm around him and walked him to the bath chamber. He didn't need the help to walk, she just... well, she wanted to. She began to warm the water with a small fire spell, and as it heated, she soaked a clean rag and rang it out.
"This whole place is yours, huh?" She commented, looking at the decorated walls of the Wizard's tower. "Never been inside a Wizard's tower before."
"Hard to believe it's a place I can call my own." Rolan admitted, peering at his face in the mirror. Two black eyes. A split lip. Bruised jaw. He was hardly the picture of health. He grimaced and turned away.
Jocasta sat on the rim of the tub and pulled him closer, gently, making him stand between her knees. "Slide those robes off," she said. "You need a wash."
Rolan hesitated, and she saw it. The singes on his robes, the fireball that had nicked him, burned his skin. He was all soot and ash and bruise, and it was hard to tell where it ended. Jocasta frowned. Rolan sneered at the wounds.
"I—" he started, looking shameful. "Lorroakan was—" he couldn't get the words right. He should have been able to stop this. All he had endured.
“Brutal,” she answered. “Horrible. Sadistic. I understand. It's nothing to feel ashamed of.” She clasped his shoulder, getting his attention back onto her. “He's gone now. You're safe.”
Her eyes drifted to the bruised ridges of his chest, the puckered marks of a burn scar singed across his skin. She moved the rag toward it, and he stopped her hands. A lot being said in no words at all.
“Hey,” she looked at him sincerely.
“Mas— er— Lorroakan burned me, one night. When I couldn't recall the components for the spell for Disintegrate. He, ah— he told me that if I couldn't learn, I was no use to him. And then he burned my chest to ensure I would remember. A lodestone and a pinch of dust. It's certainly not something I'll ever forget now.” A humorless chuckle came out, but the smile never reached his eyes.
Jocasta's face was a wash of sympathy and gentleness, and it was to the Wizard's entire surprise when she held him, gently leaning in. She moved slowly if he wanted to stop her, but when there was no resistance, she placed a kiss in the center of his chest, right across that burn scar. Rolan froze in place trying to watch her.
She peeked up at him with a sympathetic, warm little smile.
“Here. A better association than that old bastard.” She kissed him again. Her eyes spied his shoulder, another small mark. She kissed that too. And a nick on his chin. The bruise on his nose. His forehead. His horn. Each bruised cheek. The split lip, where she softly brushed her nose into his before she rested.
Rolan was reddened and breathless, his breathing hitched as he watched her every move. She wiped a small trace of ash from his cheek with the rag.
“Ah— I see— I believe you've made your point,” He replied in a low, warm voice.
“I've only just started. I think I've got many points to make.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
He'd struggled with some residing feelings about her ever since they'd met, ranging from dislike to tolerance, and then, after quite a war inside his brain, he found himself smitten by the time he was leaving Last Light Inn for Baldur's Gate. He'd taken a liking to teasing her, after she'd rescued his siblings. His gaze drew to her around the bar when she laughed with friends. She never noticed. Not once. He hid it well. But now, weeks later, his bed felt painfully empty, and he wished more than he cared to admit that she could fill it.
It was exactly why he was out here looking for a hookup, and instead found the one person he wanted to avoid.
Rating: Explict
Word Count: 8k (don't even ask me how)
Pairing: Rolan x Jocasta, Rolcasta
@rolaninto2026
Rolan Week Day 3
Rolan really hadn't intended to see anyone that night. It was a frustrating week, and many things had him just wishing for a night where he could be alone with his thoughts and wine and nobody who knew him. The Elfsong Tavern was the Hotspot in the Lower City of Baldur's Gate, which is exactly why he wasn't there. He was somewhere else, some dingy and dusty inn/tavern combo he really couldn't care less about. And for what it was worth, he was stuck there until the storm passed anyway.
Rain beat against the windows like a hurricane outside, the winds shaking the dingy tavern and making the candles flicker. He just scowled and turned back to his goblet of wine. He'd lost count at this point. But he wasn't nearly as drunk as he was in Last Light Inn, so that was a benefit, at least. Marginally.
He was trying to blur his memories into a drunken haze, an ache in his chest, a longing to take someone to bed tonight, and it didn't matter who.
Well. That was a lie. It did matter who. But that was pointless to want for, so he told himself it didn't matter anyway. That anyone would fill the void. A few patrons were in the bar, but nobody interested him. A slim picking of men, and even fewer women, and he wondered who would appeal to him after another bottle was downed. When he didn't care enough about what body he was bedding.
But something pulled him from his spiral when the door flew open in the winds, knocking against the wall. A tall figure stumbled in, trying and failing to catch the door as it clattered, and it took a large orc man and the new patron to pull it closed again. That storm had gotten bad.
“Thank you,” panted the figure, and Rolan felt his ears perk up in recognition.
Sure enough, the tall rogue pulled her hood down, ruffling her fingers through her wet hair, leaving it sticking up in a messy, effortless, rugged sort of way that made him immediately look back down.
Jocasta. Why her? Why her of all people, here to make this worse?
It wasn't that he was unhappy to see her, but rather quite the opposite. She was exactly who he wanted to see, but that didn't help the situation. He covered his face with a long swig of wine, but just as he'd expected, she saw him anyway.
“Hey stranger, can I get you a round?” The rogue slid into the chair beside him, smiling wide when she recognized her friend. She peeled off her wet coat and draped it on the back of the chair, leaving her in her camp clothes, a short cropped tank top, scarf, and thick pants. The muscles in her arms were showing, honed from years of archery.
Rolan rolled his eyes, setting down his wine goblet. “Fine, if you insist. Arabellan Dry, or at least some good wine.”
“I remember,” she nodded. She flagged down the bartender to place the order, and Rolan shifted uncomfortably.
He'd struggled with some residing feelings about her ever since they'd met, ranging from dislike to tolerance, and then, after quite a war inside his brain, he found himself smitten by the time he was leaving Last Light Inn for Baldur's Gate. He'd taken a liking to teasing her, after she'd rescued his siblings. His gaze drew to her around the bar when she laughed with friends. She never noticed. Not once. He hid it well. But now, weeks later, his bed felt painfully empty, and he wished more than he cared to admit that she could fill it.
It was exactly why he was out here looking for a hookup, and instead found the one person he wanted to avoid.
“Party!” Jocasta laughed. She was oblivious to the warring feelings inside Rolan's mind, instead paying the bartender and holding out the Arabellan Dry like it was the prize of the century. “Holding up here from the storm, I take it?” She asked him.
“Something like that,” he agreed, voice as neutral as he could keep it. He leaned back with more wine now, his gaze taking in the little rivulets of water dripping from her choppy brown hair. Gods, it looked like sex hair, like someone had had their hands all in it, messing it, pulling it, making him wish he could take a handful—
“Good, that's smart. It's shit out there. I was halfway back to Elfsong but it just got way too hard to navigate.” Jocasta cut through his thoughts, jumping him back to the moment. “I thought I could make it, but it seems unlikely now. Trees are coming down and everything. I'm probably stuck here until the storm passes.”
She kicked back the chair onto its back legs and hooked her feet into the bar, something Rolan could only foresee going wrong with the amount of times she'd tripped over nothing.
“Stop that,” he nudged her chair back onto all four legs, like he wouldn't be caught dead actually worrying about her.
“Are you heading back to the Tower, I presume?” She asked him, tilting her head slightly in curiosity. Was she acutely aware that she had the same disposition of a confused puppy?
“Not tonight,” he sighed. “Like you said, it's dangerous with the storm. Even a practiced wizard like myself would have some reservations about trying to teleport at a time like this.”
Jo hardly knew much magic, but she took him at his word and nodded. “Fair enough. Are you staying here, then?” Her gaze jumped to the stairs, showing there was an Inn available above the bar.
In truth, he'd gotten the private room to either drink himself to sleep, or coax a partner out of one of these patrons, but he wouldn't admit that to her. So he just shrugged with a nod and tried to make the wine do the talking.
“I am,” he confirmed. Though his plans for finding a hookup were out the window now. He could scarcely even imagine trying to flirt with someone now, when the person he wanted in his bed was just sitting next to him. Trying it with a stranger felt like it just wouldn't compare, so he'd just end up in an empty bed again and act like it was his plan all along.
“I should probably try and get a room before they all sell out.” She noted, seeing that most of the people in the bar probably weren't going anywhere tonight, either.
“Don't be ridiculous,” Rolan said. Perhaps the wine was doing too good a job right now. His words came out before he could stop them. “There's no reason we couldn't share a room, if there's such limited resources.”
He couldn't believe he'd just said that. Frankly, neither could Jo. She had just been reaching for her coin purse when she stilled, a bit of a quizzical look on her face. “Well that's very sweet of you to offer, Rolan. What's gotten into you tonight?” She teased him, slowly setting her pouch back down. She couldn't deny that it was a fantastic plan, though, and nodded.
“Don't get used to it,” he busied himself with another long swallow of wine. Hells, he should stop drinking around her, before he went and did something stupid.
“Fabulous, we're bunking together, that means I get to add you to the list of goodnight kisses.”
Rolan choked on his gulp of wine, sputtering to try and respond to that quickly enough. “The— what?!”
“Oh, it's a thing I do. Every night at camp, I go around, say goodnight to my friends, and give everyone a kiss on the forehead. It's become quite sweet.” She explained. Her casual approach to intimacy made Rolan balk in surprise.
“You're joking.”
“No, I'm not. It took some convincing with a few of them, but it started not long after we left the Grove, actually. Rough day all around for all of us. I had a long conversation that night with Gale, everyone was kind of going through it. Didn't think much of it, and I just gave him a kiss on the forehead. It was nice. So I made the rounds, gave everyone a little goodnight in their own way.”
“I can't believe they let you do that.” Rolan shook his head in disbelief. His tail flicked once in jealousy he couldn't hide.
There was almost some jealousy in his thoughts. So all it took to get some lip action from the rogue was just to camp with her? Or did she have something going with Gale he was totally unaware of? Was she shacking up with someone she thought was the more superior Wizard? Gods, he was an idiot for getting his hopes up in the first place.
Jo was oblivious to his internal plight. Just as he'd hoped of course. But the way she giggled at his incredulous response stirred something in him. She had no idea how he'd been feeling, all this time. And now he was going to be stuck sharing a room with her for the night. The two of them, alone. What in the bloody hells was he thinking, offering something like that?! It would be a long and sexually frustrating night with teases like that.
“Do you want another round?” She asked him, breaking his thought spiral again. “I'd like to go and get out of the wet clothes soon, I'm getting kind of cold. So if you want more wine, I'll spot one more round.”
Rolan felt like he was getting whiplash from this woman.
“I— sure, fine.” He scoffed. Jocasta was full of surprises tonight. And in an uncharacteristic twist of fate, he followed up with, “Thank you.” It was a grumbled response with his lips on a brass goblet, but it was manners from the Master of the Tower nonetheless.
And now all he had to do was not act like he was picturing her in soaking wet clothes.
Jocasta got another bottle to share between them, and an annoyingly perky smile about it. She leaned over to give him an unexpected hug that broke his concentration when she felt her arms cage around him from the side. He pushed her off before he even realized what was happening, and worse, before he even had a chance to enjoy it. His retort to her embrace came out far more desperate than angry, though, as he turned with a stunned expression. “What the Hells was that for?!”
“I'm a hugger,” Jo replied casually, a dust of pink across her cheeks and ears. “And I'm really grateful you offered up your room tonight. I appreciate it. I didn't want to imply otherwise.” She let him push her off. It was expected. She very well knew Rolan's response would have been indignation, but she definitely didn't understand the true reason why.
Rolan's heart was thudding in his chest like a caged bird trying to break out, and his ears were roaring from the pulse that flared up. He felt too hot. Too… seen. He hated not feeling in control, and she was taking him by surprise in every way she knew how.
“Did you find any cool magic items in the Tower?” Jocasta asked, leaning her cheek onto her hand as she looked at him, resting on the counter with an adoring gaze. It felt like the same look she gave him at the Grove party, when he showed off his light show. Gods, he could do so much better magic by now, he was almost embarrassed she saw that.
Rolan straightened up, puffing his chest with pride at that. Yes, that he could talk about. Even his tail flicked back and forth at the topic of interest.
“If by cool, you mean arcane items that date back centuries, with so much untapped potential that you could level half of Baldur's Gate if unpracticed hands even so much as brushed them? Then yes. Very cool.” He boasted, especially dropping the hint that his hands were the practiced ones, so well versed in his trade he could handle such things. He couldn't resist, he wanted Jocasta to know just who she was talking to.
Her eyes were lit up with wonder. “That's really amazing for you, Rolan!” She beamed, her smile so brightly disarming. “I'm not the most well-versed in Magic. I know a small handful of spells, but I'm mostly just a boring rogue.” She teased. “Not to mention clumsy as the Nine Hells.”
Rolan couldn't help but laugh softly.
“You saw me fall down the stairs at Last Light— you know!” She reminded him with an embarrassed giggle. She leaned a little closer, her hand finding his arm. Rolan became very acutely aware of it.
“Suppose we leave the arcane trickery to me, then,” he replied smoothly. “It takes quite a practiced tongue to master all of those difficult spells and incantations.”
Jocasta blushed, almost imperceptibly, at the thought the phrase Practiced Tongue put into her mind. But Rolan noticed.
“I suppose that's the trick to it. I'll leave the magic to you, if you leave lockpicking to me. Deal?” She giggled again, cheeks growing rosy from the wine as she ran her hand through her hair, messing up the still-damp strands again.
She finished the last few swallows of wine from her cup, standing up with a sway as the rush of alcohol hit her at once.
“Woah—” she hummed. “Well— I should probably get out of the wet clothes,” she remembered. “Before I get a rash or something. I hate being cold.” She shivered.
Rolan stood with her, not feeling right about letting her walk by herself. Besides, he had the room key.
“Alright, just be careful. No need to repeat Last Light Inn.”
“Just catch me if I start to fall down the stairs.” She teased. “You know I'd have done that, drunk or not.”
Rolan opened up the door to his room, and suddenly almost felt embarrassed about it. It was small, which was to be expected. But there was just a table, some chairs with his wizard's attire thrown haphazardly across it, and a single bed. Large enough for two people, but not nearly large enough for the two of them to share without being closer than Rolan has ever been to her.
“It's nice!” Jo said brightly. She of course noticed the single bed, but she didn't think much of it. This had been a kindness of Rolan's doing.
“I can take the floor.” Rolan stated immediately, getting right to work striding over, his manner serious as he took a pillow from the bed.
“Don't be ridiculous,” Jocasta caught up to him and took the pillow before he could place it on the ground. “This is literally your room. If anyone should take the floor, it would be me. But there's no reason we couldn't both fit in the bed!”
Rolan hated the way his heart ached in his chest at that. It was what he wanted out of this night, but the thought of doing it felt like leaping from a precipice. Feather Fall be damned. He looked anxious, and he knew it.
Jocasta picked up on it, gently touching his shoulder. “Hey. You okay?” Her face wore gentle concern.
“I'm fine,” he grumbled.
“I genuinely have no issue sleeping on the floor. You were very kind to offer a room—”
“Dammit, stop being so nice to me!” He finally snapped. His eyes jumped to hers. The infernal yellow met the bluest eyes he's ever seen. “I've been such a prick to you and you're over here acting like I haven't been snapping at you since the day we first met.”
Jocasta paused, frowning at him. “Rolan…”
“Don't. Don't Rolan me, like you pity me or something.”
It sounded like the booze was getting to him.
“I don't pity you.” She replied, keeping her tone calm and even, so he wouldn't think she was doing exactly that. “I think you're quite impressive. I think you care. A lot. And I think that's admirable. I don't come to your aid out of pity or because I think you're a weak thing in need of saving. I've been nice to you, because I've been in your situation before. Because I've been the one scared and alone and out of my element. And because we're friends. Sure, you've been a bit of an ass at times, but we're on good terms. Who among friends hasn't been an ass, at times?” She chuckled.
The word Friends hit Rolan like a punch square to the chest, but that wasn't the point right now. She had disarmed him so completely that all he could do was stare at her. He'd have almost rather she yelled back than to be so… rational.
“You've never been an ass,” he grumbled, a weak point.
“I try not to. But I certainly have.” She promised him. “I don't hold your actions against you, Rolan. I promise. Friends help friends. I want to see you thriving and happy, just like the others.” She smiled something so genuine, her head tilting slightly just so she could look down at him. She was only a few inches taller than him, but taller all the same.
Rolan only made a sound of reply. Afraid anything else would give him away. A longing. He got this room in hopes to drag some random soul to bed and pretend it was her, and now she was in his room and his hopes were too high.
And then Jocasta kissed him on the forehead, which really didn't help the situation even in the slightest. She gently placed her hand on his shoulder, leaning down and touching her lips to his hairline, right between his horns. His whole body tensed with the surprise of the intimacy of it. His face burned red hot, even up his ears and horns and down his neck, and he opened and closed his mouth several times before words came out.
“Jocasta—!” He snapped when his brain finally caught up. His tail jumped back and forth behind him, trying very desperately to not let it wag like it excited him.
The rogue smiled warmly at him, eyes soft with care, and she turned to her bag. “I have to change. Just give me a moment.” She stepped aside. There was nowhere to really go, so she just turned her back.
Rolan was stunned still, like she'd cast Hold Person on him, blood rushing through his body and pooling in his gut against his will. He turned sharply on his heel to put his back to her, and held a hand to his chest to catch his breath. Not only did she KISS him, she was also stripping down just behind him. Not that he was some common pervert who would look, but hells, the offer was tempting. He had to bite his lip as his mind flashed images of her against his eyelids. Her tall frame, lean, toned abs, strong arms, the way she looked flexing and lifting her arms above her head—
No. Nononono, fuck, godsdammit— oh gods, no, he was half hard. Shit. He was beginning to panic. They were supposed to share a bed, and Rolan was stiff. He tried flexing his fingers or shifting his legs to divert the blood, but it was fruitless. His pants were the only saving grace.
He heard the sound of wet clothing moving behind him, Jocasta brushing herself dry, and a small sigh of contentment from her lips as she warmed. A sigh that made him throb even more. His mind generated fantasies now, wondering what other little sounds his practiced tongue could pull from her—
She hopped a little to pull on dry pants, and Rolan turned around despite himself. There she was. Right there. Touching distance. Her back was still to him, her top on the floor. Her back was strong, covered in a branching network of scars. He barely got a glimpse before she pulled another shirt on, but it was enough to make him embarrassingly hard with no way to make it stop.
He turned around just before he was caught staring, and Jocasta lightly tapped him to let him know the coast was clear. She was in soft pants, something warm and cotton, and a dark purple shirt with golden accents.
“I understand if you don't want to change, but I'll turn away if you do.” She said with a smile.
Rolan was at a loss. There was nothing more that he wanted than to strip down into his smallclothes, and maybe, just maybe, to feel her eyes on him the way he traced over her. But there was the issue of being stiff right now and she definitely would notice that. He swallowed hard.
“I'm fine.”
Gods, this night was a disaster waiting to happen. He slowly moved to the bed, keeping himself angled away so she wouldn't notice the issue, and he sat at the bed with a pillow half covering him. Hells, he was a master Wizard, not some teenager. Get a grip, Rolan!
Jocasta climbed into the other side of the bed without a care, pulling back the blankets and sliding beneath, turning to face him in the bed. Gods, it felt like they were lovers. Her head rested on the pillow, her arm tucked beneath it, and she was looking over at him with a smile. Like she wanted something.
Rolan moved very carefully, anything to not expose the erection straining his pants. He laid on his back, an arm behind his head, staring at the ceiling and wondering how he ended up in this position. How he ended up in bed with the woman he was practically lovestruck for, how this night had taken such a twist.
“I don't mind if we need a pillow wall between us, but I'm also alright to go without. I've shared a bed with my companions plenty of times, I can behave myself.” She chuckled shyly. And then her mouth got in the way. “I mean— I would always behave myself, I'm not trying to imply— and if you want a pillow wall, that's totally fine! I don't want to intrude or make you uncomfortable or— Gods, I'd never want to impose. This is your room, you get the call. I mean, I'm in bed with an attractive wizard, don't think I'm not appreciative— but I don't mean— I'm not implying—!”
Suddenly, it was Jocasta's turn to stammer incoherently. Something she always did when she was nervous, and this was no exception. It was easy enough for her to be an affectionate and caring woman, but she never wanted to do anything stupid to ruin their relationship.
“Jocasta!” Rolan cut her off before she rambled until dawn. “It's— it's fine. It's fine. Just stay there. No… pillow wall.” He grumbled. Ignoring the way his body flared and froze when she called him attractive. Attractive? Did she mean that? His fucking tail was about to start wagging and he had half a mind to chop it off before it got him in trouble.
Jocasta finally stopped talking, and she flashed him another absolutely annoying smile. Her face was all pink. If there was one thing she was good at, it was definitely talking herself into a corner.
“I promise I won't steal the blankets, either,” she added after a moment. “I mean, unless you're warm at night. I've had people tell me I run warm—”
“Jocasta.” He stopped her before she could go back down another talking spiral.
“Right,” she remembered herself. She wrapped her arms around the pillow to hug it, but for a moment, she looked at him like she wished she could wrap around him instead. She was always very much in favor of cuddling, even just platonically. But Rolan didn't seem the type to want that. How wrong she was, though.
“Goodnight, Rolan. Thanks for letting me wait out the storm with you.” She said fondly, eyes soft and full of kindness that made the poor wizard's heart ache.
“Goodnight,” he said stiffly, wondering if there was any hope at all that he could sneak out of bed after she went to sleep so he could jerk off and calm down.
Jocasta turned over, shifting in the bed to get comfortable. She put her back to him as promised, but Rolan stayed facing the ceiling, fighting the urge to let his hands wander. He felt such a pull to touch himself, to offer some kind of friction that he knew wouldn't help. His fingers twitched at his sides, wanting to caress across his chest, down his stomach, to tease the head of his cock and pretend it was her—
He just closed his eyes, infuriatingly hard.
The room was all too quiet. He could hear her little breaths and shifts to get comfortable. She moved her pillow again, cuddling up with the blanket. Before long, she shifted back against him. It wasn't like there was all the space in the world in this bed, but the moment she backed up into him, he felt like his body was on fire. He felt vulnerable. Every nerve in his body was alight with arousal.
“Is this alright to do?” Jo asked, voice breaking the silence. All Rolan wished to do was pull her into his arms.
“It's fine,” he hissed. He forced his tone to be casual, though he was speaking through gritted teeth.
“Good,” she smiled. “You know I'm a hugger, so you can do whatever.” She cozied up to him. She shifted right into his arms, and against all better judgements, Rolan obliged. Maybe they were both a little too drunk to think straight right now, but hells, she said he could. He'd likely never end up in bed with her again, he may as well experience what it was like to hold her, at least once.
Jo smiled shyly into the pillow when his arm caged her in. It wasn't often she was any type of little spoon.
Jocasta moved just so, just enough to push back and get comfortable, and her ass slotted right into Rolan's hips before he could pull them back. The wizard froze. Jocasta stilled. Neither wanted to move. Rolan was holding his breath, praying she didn't feel the erection poking her in the back of the thigh, and Jocasta, racing with questions about if she felt what she thought she felt. The dead silence dragged on for far too long, both waiting for the other to speak first.
Rolan was rigid beneath the blankets, his eyes open wide like he was frozen in place.
“Don't take it personally,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “It's an accident. Just ignore it. Goodnight.” He hastily grabbed his side of the blanket and turned over, breaking their point of contact.
Jocasta blushed. She felt like electricity tickled her skin. She felt flattered, in a way, even if it was just a normal body reaction. She felt hot, and a small pulse shook her whole body. She jolted upright and turned to face him again.
“Hey! You're all good! Don't even worry about it!” She said, her voice almost too chipper about it. Awkward. Embarrassed. Encouraging. “I totally understand, you're fine!” She placed her hands on his shoulders, trying to do anything she could to not let Rolan stew in his embarrassment. Nothing to be ashamed of.
Rolan suppressed a shiver when she still continued touching him. Nothing was helping this damn thing go down. And the way she looked at him, with no judgment or disgust… it was more kindness than he was affording himself, at least.
“No worries, okay?” She said, trying to coax a response from him. She felt terrible. It wasn't her fault— well, it was, but unintentionally— but she still felt bad that Rolan looked so humiliated. She gently brushed some of his hair from his face, her touches light and tender.
“You're not helping,” Rolan said through his teeth as his dick ached in his pants.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, just— think of old ladies.” She giggled, trying to put some humor in the situation. Something to cheer him up when the poor mortified wizard looked like he wanted to die.
Rolan groaned, running a hand over his face. She was trying so hard to help— gods knew she was trying. But the way she sprung into action to help him, to protect his feelings, to make him feel better… it only served to make him want her more.
“Jocasta.” He huffed. “Please. You're killing me here.” But there was a dry chuckle that came out with it, a forced smile. He did find the humor in it, even if he felt like he could explode on the spot.
Jocasta laughed again, feeling slight relief that he wore a smile, even a small one. “It's alright. You're good.” She repeated. “Fuck, man, if you need me to step out and give you privacy, I get it. The gods didn't give me a dick because they knew I'd be in trouble if I had one.” She laughed her awkward laugh, something to fill the silence. She always laughed as a response to most things. Awkwardness, fear, anger, even through tears. But at least this felt… strangely wholesome.
“No, don't… don't go. It's fine.” Rolan sighed. He still felt humiliated, but she was being such a damn good sport about it, it felt cruel to send her away. He knew so many who would have been disgusted with him, assumed the worst, or left him alone in the bed. The switch with Jocasta was so refreshing that his heart yearned for her. It made him feel like he was about to fall in love again.
"Okay," she replied gently. "I'm not judging you, I promise. I understand. So please don't think I'm grossed out by you or something. It's normal, and I'm not mad." She smiled at him, her eyes softening. “It's normal, it's perfectly fine. And you're a plenty attractive man, I'd say I'm more flattered than anything else. But no— ah— It happens. And it's not like it's the first time I've seen a man hard. You're honest and sincere about it, don't be embarrassed!”
Easier said than done, but Rolan was finally exhaling slowly, his anxiety calmed about it. He was still hard as a fucking rock and it wasn't going down, but her words were like a cooling balm to the heat building up within him, threatening to make him pass out from embarrassment in front of the woman he was in love with. He was floored by her casual nature, how she took it in stride. And—
His eyes snapped open again.
“Flattered?” He blurted out as the words sunk in. “Attractive?” Now it was Rolan's turn to sit bolt upright in the bed, his gaze immediately burning holes into Jocasta as he looked at her, the blanket bulging up around his crotch.
Jocasta's face was a shade of red that made her look like a Tiefling herself, minus the horns.
“Well. Yeah. You didn't know?” She rubbed the back of her neck but it did nothing to cool her down.
“Know what?” Rolan hissed, before his heart burst from his chest.
“Know that I think you're hot?” Jocasta looked at him puzzled. She was certain she'd been obvious. Subtle was never her strong suit. Ironic, for a rogue.
Judging by his reaction, he didn't know.
Rolan stared at her as if she told him she had three heads, and he'd never noticed it until now. Which, unfortunately, prompted Jocasta to begin rambling.
“Fuck, Rolan, I mean— gods, yeah, you're hot.” She laughed, in absolute disbelief He never knew. “I thought you were just ignoring me about it, but holy shit, you're definitely hot. I'm sorry. I thought you knew. I mean, it doesn't have to mean anything, I really don't want you to think that I would treat you any differently— it's okay if you don't feel the same way or anything— I don't want it to be awkward, I always find something attractive about people in their own right. And I didn't just come up here to try and make it weird, I really do value our friendship— I mean— I would still— if you asked— only if you wanted to, I would definitely kiss you if you asked, but that's not the goal here— It hasn't been some ulterior motive is what I'm getting at, and I'm perfectly fine just being friends if that's what—”
“Jocasta!” Rolan finally raised his voice, no other way to cut in.
“Hm?” Jocasta's face flushed red as she fell to silence.
Rolan didn't even say a word, he grabbed the back of her neck with a trembling hand, and pulled her in for a kiss, all his self restraint snapping in that instant.
She melted against him immediately, arms wrapping around him. She pressed in closer, her thigh nudging between his legs and pushing directly against his erection. Rolan stifled a shuddery groan into her mouth, and he felt Jo's lips pull back into a smile.
“S-Sorry,” he stammered, breaking the kiss, clearly still embarrassed about getting hard.
“Don't be.” Jo hummed, and she met him for another kiss, something hungry for more. She held his face, fingers into his hair, her lips pressing firmly against him. She wanted this. Wanted him. His mind felt like it blanked out all at once.
“Mmh— ah—” Rolan groaned as her knee teased him. “Fuck— you're going to make me do something stupid.” He chuckled hotly into her lips.
“Heh. I'm stupid. Do me.” She kissed him again, and in one quick motion, she shifted him onto his back, swinging her leg over him. She seated herself across his crotch, already rocking into him needily.
Rolan couldn't help but laugh. His head was swimming. This was one part of the Jocasta charm he liked. She always said things that were so stupidly endearing. He almost felt like he could cry. He'd started this night grumpy and alone, expecting a cold bed and a bitter morning, but the woman he'd fallen in love with against his will was in his bed now, kissing him, holding him, making him smile. He'd never had something like this before.
He deepened the kiss, feeling emboldened, holding her hips tightly, using their movements to grind her down against him. His tongue pressed to her lips and she allowed him in, sighing and panting. It was all happening so fast he hardly knew what to do with himself.
Jocasta blushed the more they progressed. He was hard against her, his smallclothes tented hard between her legs in a way that made her whine to grind against.
“Can I take care of you?” She asked, pausing a moment on top of him, looking down at his flushed face and dilated pupils.
Rolan's breathing hitched, his hands tracing up and down her sides, grabbing at her hips. “Gods. Please. Yes.” He stammered back, still wrecked with disbelief that she was doing this.
“Great!” She exclaimed with far too much enthusiasm, lighting up with a little glimmer of adoration in her eyes. She moved back off of him, sitting more on his thighs than his groin now, and she began to kiss his neck, her hands roaming across chest, pushing his shirt up, touching the infernal ridges of his skin. Rolan's body shivered and arched in reaction, throat bobbing with eager moans.
“Fuck,” he moaned raggedly. “Ah— so s-sensitive.”
She sucked just below his jaw and smiled. One hand shifted down to palm him over his briefs, caressing him as he twitched into the heat of her hand.
“Gods… you have absolutely no idea how much I've fantasized about this,” Rolan moaned out, his head tipping back between sharp breaths. Something he likely wouldn't have been caught dead admitting, but the booze and haze of lust and arousal pulled the confession from him. His tail wrapped up around her leg, tightening against her thigh, anything to connect them and pull her closer.
Jocasta looked up at him with the sweetest smile he'd ever seen a woman look at him with, and she shifted his underwear down enough to wrap her hand around him at long last.
The noise that Rolan made sent arousal flooding through her body, and her hand picked an easy but eager pace, pumping his shaft, her thumb pressing and swiping around his head. It was some mix of clumsy and practiced in a way that felt so very Jocasta, Rolan couldn't help but laugh softly. Better than he had expected. Because it wasn't like he had expected at all.
His hands roamed to her sides, grabbing at the bottom of her shirt so he could undress her, and he was surprised when her hands suddenly came up to meet his. She lifted up, sitting back a little and catching his hand.
“Just real quick,” she said very quickly, looking shy and serious at the same time. “You totally can— but… I just— I wanted to give you a heads up.” She blushed down at him, looking the slightest bit flighty and uncertain. “Several years ago, there was an incident. Lightning strike. Right to the heart. I can give you all the details some other time, but what you should know is that, uh— there's plenty of… scarring. On the chest. It doesn't hurt, not anymore, but it's also not the prettiest thing to look at. So if you want to leave the shirt on…” she trailed off, her eyes downward, looking shy.
Rolan's expression softened with concern. He had no idea that it was something she felt this self conscious about. Or that she thought he'd care even an iota about. He wanted her in his bed for months, no amount of scarring would deter him.
“Darling,” he paused, gathering his thoughts and taking her hand, not pressing forward. “That's alright. I couldn't imagine being put off by you. Don't do anything you're not comfortable with— Hells, this is more than I ever expected. But no, no, absolutely not. I'd like to see you. As you.”
A warmth bloomed from Jocasta's chest and spread all the way to her face. She was nervous and flattered. She leaned down to give Rolan a gentle kiss against his lips, resting their foreheads together for a tender moment, and then she sat back.
“Okay. I trust you.” She took off her own shirt, lifting it over her head slowly. It wasn't a strip tease, it was nerves that tingled all over her body, like she was waiting for Rolan to recoil with disgust, throw her from his lap to the floor, and chase her away. But it never happened. She placed the shirt to the side, and Rolan's eyes traced the branching, webbing scar that began at her heart and extended outwards like jagged lightning bolts. It completely enveloped the left breast, leaving it shrunken from the tight scar tissue. The right had a bit of the scar, but it was mostly the left side, her torso, shoulder, and part of her arm.
Rolan could understand why she was self conscious about it, but he thought it was incredible. His fingers softly traced over the ridges, the tight tissue. “You are a marvel.” He said, sitting up and kissing her on the chest. Between the breasts, where her heart rested. “You have nothing to worry about, Jocasta. You are gorgeous.”
Jocasta's face burned hot, joyful tears puddling beneath her lashes and making streaks down her face for Rolan to lightly brush away. “You're not just saying that?”
“Never.”
Jocasta leaned down and embraced him tightly, their bare chests colliding in warmth, both of their bodies full of heat and want and lust and love.
“I want you,” she said softly, lips brushing his. “I'd like to take you. Have you. Make you feel good. At least for tonight, but more days and beyond, if you'd have it.”
“Gods, yes, Jocasta.” He breathed. “I'm all yours.”
Jo smiled. A genuine and bright smile. She sat up again, no longer afraid and flighty and unsure. She lifted up from him again and undressed completely. Pants came down, and underwear with it. Rolan could see the arousal stain when she shifted, and his eyes widened in deep surprise. Gods, she was soaked. He almost moaned at the thought, eager as the Hells to feel it for himself.
And then it was his turn. She pulled him free at long last, the ache finally giving way to relief, blessed relief. He sighed as his erection finally popped free, bobbing and twitching. Jo eyed him with keen interest. He was a good size, average length, long and thin, with the same infernal ridges he had on his hips tracing up the shaft of it.
Jocasta climbed on top of him, hovering herself above him, gently rubbing her slick wetness across his head, prepping him to take her. His cock twitched and a moan fell from his throat, his hands splayed across her thighs as he waited. Impatiently patient.
“Don't tease me,” he huffed out. “I've waited so bloody long for this.”
Jocasta grinned and cupped his face, holding his cheek as she wiggled her hips, pressing him inside of her as she gasped. Her mouth hung open, panting quietly as he filled her up, rubbing inside of her in every way she wanted. She leaned back down, bracing against the bed overtop of him. Her fingers interlaced with his, and she began to rock her hips, lifting and dropping in a rhythm until her hips slapped against his.
He palmed her breast as they kissed, tongues meeting somewhere in the middle. Sometimes in his mouth, sometimes in hers. Her tongue brushed across his sharp teeth, and his clawed fingers lightly rolled her nipple between them. She moaned into his kiss, continuing to bounce on him all the while.
“Oh fuck. Rolan. You feel~ so good~” She moaned.
“Ah, hells, I've only just begun.” She could feel his smug grin even through kissing. He thumbed over her ear to feel her hiss with the stimulation, toying with the sensitive pointed tip. His other hand still massaged her breast, fingertips circling her nipple and thumbing across it in a way that made her body clench tightly around his cock. His hips bucked up to meet hers at the same time she dropped, and his tail curled up around her thigh, the firm, ridged tip of it pressing up against her clit and flicking back and forth.
Jocasta whimpered, a long, needy, whiny sound from the many different points of stimulation. Her hips stuttered as he lavished the attention on her, looking so smug that he could elicit such a reaction from her. She gripped his horns like safety handles, her fingers hot against them as she used them to stay steady, and at the same time, stroked them like she would have stroked his cock.
“Fuck, fuck, Rolan~ Rolan~ Rolan~” She repeated his name in a lovedrunk chant, her thighs burning as she kept the pace. His tail circled her clit again, making her buck her hips. She could already feel his dick tightening inside of her, it was clear he was trying to get her to the same point.
“You feel— fucking amazing.” Rolan growled, sinking his teeth into her shoulder between heavy breaths. "So much better— than those pesky fucking fantasies— My hand… a Mage hand… none of it feels as good as you do. I wanted to know every sound— fffuck— every shiver. It's mine. Be greedy. Be greedy for me. I need to know it's my body that makes you feel good… Hhhnnh… can you do that, Jocasta? Can you do that for me?”
“Yes— Rolan,” she whined. “Kiss me… Kiss me and feel good.” She pleaded with him, her mind buzzing with pleasure. Her whole body was alert and tense. She stole another kiss from him as his tail sped its relentless touch on her clit, Rolan catching her whines in his mouth as his body arched into hers, chasing an inevitable peak.
“I'm going to— I'm going to come for you— quite quickly.” He panted, an almost-embarrassed chuckle. “You feel too bloody good.”
“Good.” She panted. A tired, absolutely wrecked smile crossed her face. “Do it. I want you to.” She kissed him again, never slowing the way her body moved and reacted to him.
Rolan clutched her hand, their fingers interlacing. Something so much kinder than ripping the bedsheets of this inn. His back arched, his tail stuttering its pattern, and he could feel himself clench inside of her.
“Close, fuck—” he barely got the words out before he came hard, his hips faltering, but the rogue bouncing atop him kept that pace for him. He felt himself come hard, pent up for days in sexual frustration about the very woman who pulled the orgasm from him right now.
Jocasta smiled all the while as she felt him release, feeling him pulse inside her, kissing his moans right from his mouth as she shivered, her body unraveling piece by piece to his touch. She melted as the twitch inside her pushed her so delicately over that peak, her mouth falling open with moans she could no longer control.
“Rolan~” She came with his name on her lips, melting heavily against him. His tail went slack only when he was certain she had finished. Their chests heaved together, sharing air, magic crackling through the air between them as colorful dancing lights swarmed around them.
Jocasta laughed into his neck. “Gods above, you're gorgeous.” She whispered.
“I was thinking the same to you.” He brushed sweaty strands of hair from her face. “Apologies, I can usually last longer. I suppose a wizard isn't known for his constitution.” His cheeks were red. A little embarrassed he couldn't perform more for her. He always loved showing off.
“You were perfect,” she quieted him, a finger to his lips. She smiled wide, content and nearly boneless in his arms. “I love you.”
The words came out in a breathless smile, hanging between them in the air. Rolan's eyes widened as he processed her confession. Jocasta's face was all the more flushed.
“Too much?” She asked with a nervous laugh.
“Perfect,” he countered. “Gods, I love you too.”
She smiled wider, kissing him, all teeth from her joy.
“Let's get you clean,” she smiled, slowly sitting up, feeling her hips tremble and buck from the aftershock. She climbed off of him, and before he could even make a move of protest, the rogue slid her arms beneath Rolan's body and picked him up.
Rolan made a noise of confusion and protest as he found himself lifted from the bed, cradled against her. He felt small. He wasn't used to this. This tender care. So many hookups ended with the other leaving soon after, and his bed empty for the night. Alone. Never this. Never being carried to a bath like he actually mattered.
“Put me down,” he grumbled, but absolutely no malice was in his voice. Adoration was the better word. He wouldn't fight her. He probably couldn't even stand anyway.
“Give me a minute.” She smiled. “I'll do the very limited magic that I can, for you.”
She gently rested him in a chair as she filled the tub, using her favorite spell to conjure some fire, heating up the water to something so they could enjoy it. She was no master wizard, hardly adept with the arcane aside from a few spells and minor cantrips. But fire? That was her specialty. That kept her friends alive when they needed it, and it would keep them warm now. She copied the same flourish Rolan used at the Grove party to show off, and she grinned at him.
He returned her favor from back then, and applauded as the fire bloomed in her hands.
“Adoring applause? You're too kind.” Jocasta bowed the same way he had, sweeping her arm in front of her. Unintentionally singeing her shoulder and making her jump in surprise.
Rolan chuckled at her antics. He couldn't have imagined her doing anything else.
The two climbed into the tub together, sighing as their aching bodies finally relaxed, the sexual tension between them melting away, leaving only tenderness and passion in its wake. She cradled Rolan into her arms and washed his hair in the warmth, even as the rain outside battered the window.
Neither had ever been so grateful for the rain. After all, Rolan's speciality was Thunder. And Jocasta, the woman who survived lightning.
