Unrestrained Echoes (Caleb/MC)
Couple: Caleb Xia/ MC
Word Count: 3785
Content Warning: Smut, tooth rotting fluff, yapping, they are in a grave yard
Summary:
“You’re such a bad girl.” He teases, his breath so hot against your skin, you shudder. “Saying all those things here. In a cemetery! Who raised you?” and you gently smack at his shoulder. “She’s right over there, don’t be mean!”
It starts off as a date idea, and a silly one at that - you’ve made it a tradition with Caleb, once a month you go and visit grandma’s grave…and then you take a detour to his.
Sometimes it’s just so you can stare at him, that you can realize there is nothing there, under that headstone, throwing yourself into his arms and letting him remind you that he is real, that he is alive and his heart is still beating under your touch.
And sometimes it’s so you can - very dramatically, mind you - talk to his grave, while he watches, snickering as you air your problems about him, to him, in front of him. He protests, every now and again, saying it’s rude to bring up grievances with the dead - but at the end you end up giggling, tugging at his cheeks, just so happy he is with you.
Tonight, it’s late, very late, and you’re watching a meteor shower. Sprawled out onto a comfy blanket, and curled into the crook of his arm.
You’d planned on watching from the balcony of your place, before Caleb reminded you the light pollution would ruin it.Then you had brought up going out to the country, but he had simply tutted his tongue and reminded you the last time you did this, you were kids, and it was with grandma.
And so to the cemetery you went, saying hi to her before he slyly remarked that his headstone is a better place to sit, with a better view of the stars.
“I thought you wanted to watch it with Grandma?” You elbowed him in the side, and he laughed, pulling you close.
“She’s here, we said hi, I think she’d appreciate the gesture.” He shrugged a little, already marching off towards his headstone. “And anyway, I can feel her glare any time we get to cuddling. She always wanted you to end up with ‘Doctor Zayne’.” And you had watched him mimic the fawning way Josephine used to talk about him.
“Grandma just didn’t…” You paused, trying to figure out the best way to say it. “She didn’t realize the depth of our feelings.” And you nodded to yourself - yeah that’s a pretty good way to put it. Better than saying that Grandma didn’t want you being in love with and having sex with the boy she raised as your older brother.
Oh well, you sighed. As much as you miss her, you know if she was still here…neither of you would have been brave enough to go this far. You shot an apologetic look towards her grave, before grabbing Caleb’s hand, entwining your fingers and swinging your arm.
And she would be happy you're both happy, you're sure of it. Caleb is taking care of you, like he always promised her…and now you get to stand by his side, you get to take care of him too.
“Why're you so quiet?” He murmurs, here in the present, brushing his lips against your forehead. “Don't tell me you're falling asleep, pipsqueak.”
“Not a chance.” You huff, shifting to look up at him, to catch his sweet - adoring gaze. The starlight makes his eyes almost shimmer, galaxies laid bare for you…and you alone. “I was just thinking.”
“Dangerous.” he snickers and you huff, swatting at him, just for him to grab your hand, drawing it up to his lips to press a gentle kiss there.
“Ugh, how am I supposed to be grumpy with you when you are so sweet.” And he grins, a wolfish flash of his teeth before pressing another kiss, just a little lower, to your wrist.
“You aren't.” He says cheerfully. “You're supposed to always forgive me, even when I'm being big dummy Caleb.”
“Where is your hundred-year forgiveness coupon?” You ask him, reaching to pinch his cheek, rewarded with the sweetness of his laugh.
You wish you could capture the moment of his genuine smile, of his sweet laugh - and hold it forever, keep it those weeks where he's gone with the fleet, or when you're gone on missions.
“There is that look again.” His smile shifts to something like concern. “When you're thinking of things that make you upset -”
“I just….ugh.” you shake your head, reaching to grip at the material of his shirt, letting your fingers slip under the fabric so you can nervously rub circles against his skin. “It sounds stupid because you're here , you're right here with me.” And you shift so that you're pressed as close as you can be to him, your leg hooked over his, and your hand over his heart, feeling the steady beat. Here he is, alive and breathing, and full of concern as he looks up at you. “I miss you.” You grumble, like admitting it is a chore. “Preemptively. You're here, but I'm already missing you, thinking of when we are apart again.” You don’t know how else to say it. “When you leave…when you aren’t here, all i can think about is this place. Where I thought you left me.”
“Pipsqueak.” And Caleb sighs softly, shifting you so you're sprawled on top of him, his arms around you. “D’you want me to tell you you should focus on thinking about right now, instead?” He isn't teasing now, he can tell your mood is serious. “or….D’you want me….to admit that i’m always missing you too. That….after I left, all I could think about was you, and how I had left you…How I had left you all alone.” There is regret there, even as He's gently stroking at your cheek with his thumb, and cradling you against him. “I think about you, about leaving you, and about coming back, down to the minute.” And his nose brushes yours as he kisses you softly. “And when we aren't together, all I want is to be with you.”
“Maybe it's because I'm staring at your grave.” You sigh, pressing your forehead against his. “I'm…I'm - I just feel like there will never be enough time. I lost you once, after all.” It’s a bit petulant, in the way you can be with him, as you lightly pound on his chest. “I can’t…I can’t lose you again.” And he sees right through you, you know it, sees past the childish fit, to the heart of it. To how terrified you are to lose him, to end up in a world where he is gone, where he won’t come back to you.
“I'm right here.” He reminds you, grabbing your hands, to bring to his heart, to feel it thrumming again, to feel the fact that he is alive. “I'm here now, and I'm alive, I'm with you.” His purple eyes are so soft, so sweet and you kiss him. Because you can, because he’s here, and he’s alive and he’s yours.
The miracle of it, that he would be with you, isn’t lost on you, and as soon as he lets your hands go, you are moving them to cup his face.
“Big dummy Caleb.” You mumble, and he pushes himself up, taking you with him. “Hey- “ and now his back is against his grave stone, and right behind his head you can see the picture of him, the one you picked to memorialize him…from his DAA graduation.
A picture you had snapped of him, looking so handsome, so happy. Before…before all this. Before the explosion, before the fleet, and before that damn chip -
“This is more comfortable.” His voice shakes you from your thoughts. “And I can hold you closer.” Which he does, squeezing you tightly, till you whine, the dark cloud above your head lifting just a little at his antics. “That’s better.” He whispers against your ear. “I just had to squeeze out a bit of your sadness, Now I need to find something to replace it with.”
“With Caleb.” You answer him, dropping your voice a little low. “I want you to replace all my sadness with you.” and your hands drift down his chest. He’s so firm, and so warm underneath your touch, and you can feel the pit in your stomach - where dread is being replaced with something altogether more…Carnal.
Its heat swirling just under your skin, a coil you badly want to break. The best way to be reminded that he’s here with you - when he’s buried to the hilt inside of you.
“You…” and you can see the way his Adam's apple bobs as he gulps, just a quick movement. Just enough to clue you in. “Here, are you sure?”
“Here…” and you lean forward, your mouth against his ear. “Should we put on a show for grandma?” You have no idea why you say it, but once it’s out, Caleb’s eyes are wide, and then narrowed, a heavy breath leaving his lungs as he grips at your arms.
Not painful, but strong. Strong and sturdy.
“That is…you are really something else.” But he sounds eager, wanting, like he always is for you. “Are you really sure?” “Ask me that one more time, and we will be going home.” You huff. “And not to…to do that either.” One of his worst habits in your opinion, it's like he can’t fathom just how much you want him, and how you want him…literally all the time.
“One of these days you’re going to have to just get over it and say the word.” Caleb snickers. “You’re a big girl, right Pipsqueak? You’re a grown up.” And okay, he wants you to fight him, you think to yourself, scowling at him.
“You - you think I can’t say it?” you ask him. “Seriously?”
“I mean…you still haven’t. Are you worried Grandma will hear?” He says, his eyes full of mischief. “Are you a coward - “ “I am trying to - to fuck you. Here, in a cemetery, at your grave.” You blurt. “Fuck, have sex with you, copulate, have intercourse, make love - “ and he silences you with a heated kiss, one of his hands tangling in your hair, pulling it free from the scrunchie you had keeping it up.
“You’re such a bad girl.” He teases, his breath so hot against your skin, you shudder. “Saying all those things here. In a cemetery! Who raised you?” and you gently smack at his shoulder. “She’s right over there, don’t be mean!” and it’s joking, a way to overlook the trauma of it all - at least for you. The more time passes, the more complicated you realize Caleb and Josephine’s relationship was. Both united in a love for you…and not much else.
“Stop thinking so loud.” Caleb is kissing you again, lips warm, and you grin when you taste the lip balm you gave him on them. “Focus on me.” He trails kisses along your jaw, then into the crook of your neck, his teeth sinking in a love bite.
“Ngh - Caleb -” it's a whine, soft and sweet for him. “Be gentle.” “We both know you don’t want that.” That timbre in his voice, God he makes you feel weak in the knees. “Always beggin’ me to be gentle, then demanding I be rough. You’re so bossy.” His hands slip under the cozy dress you had popped on for this adventure, meeting the pretty lace panties you were wearing. “What’s this? Did you plan this whole trip for mischief, Pipsqueak?” He asks.
“I know a certain Colonel of the farspace fleet likes to see meteor showers.” You very coyly raise the material of your dress, revealing what his hands are touching. “And I also know he likes it when I wear pretty lace panties.”
Before you realize it, he’s got you scrambling to grasp onto his grave stone, his fingers rubbing your clit through that oh-so pretty lace.
“Then you also know that the colonel likes it best when they’re soaked.” His teeth graze your ear and you shiver, the feeling of his firm chest pressed to your back making you almost as dizzy as the feeling of his fingers rubbing your clit. “Gonna make you cum in these - “ “So you can keep them?” You are panting, gripping at the cool stone. “So Colonel pervert can use them to get off when he’s on long missions?”
“Colonel pervert, eh?” You can feel his hard on pressing against your ass, and he’s shameless about it, bucking his hips against those panties. “That’s a new one.” and he is slipping your panties to the side just enough to slide his fingers into your cunt, to grind his palm against your clit.
“Ngh - Caleb - !”
“Nope, Caleb isn’t here right now.” He leaves another mark against your neck, this one enough to make your eyes roll back at the feeling of his teeth, of his mouth hot on your skin. “Just the colonel - punishing his naughty aide.”
“Does the Colonel want - hngh - “ and you shift, pressing your ass against his hips. “Does the colonel wanna fuck me for being such….such a bad girl?” and heavens above, the sound that leaves his mouth will haunt all your wet dreams from here on out. “Is that my punishment?”
“Haah - we need to work on your understanding of what a punishment is.” with every thrust of his crooked fingers, you feel stars burst behind your shut eyes. He knows exactly how to work you over. “Generally speaking the other person shouldn’t like them.”
“But I-i - oh - love it when you touch me.” You counter, your breath and words stuttering as you try to talk through what he’s doing to you. “So I guess you aren’t doing - ah - you aren’t doing a good job of punishing me.”
“You’re the colonel’s weakness.” Caleb’s words are softer now, even if his touch isn’t. “And Mine too. So I’ll always let you off easy.” Yeah, you think to yourself, trying to hold on for dear life to his literal gravestone while he fingerfucks you into oblivion - he isn’t exactly letting you off easy right now.
And the sound, you'd have the decency to be embarrassed from the squelch of his fingers inside of you if you weren't actively grinding against him, seeking out more - more of him.
“You -” he grunts, and he's bent over you, his free hand wrapped across your stomach, both to hold you closer and to keep you from falling over against the grave stone. but whatever he's going to say is lost as you clench around his fingers, gasping his name as you cum.
And he's always one to let you ride it out, his touch softening immediately, not keen on giving you more than you can handle before he's had the chance to properly handle you. As soon as his fingers slide out of you, you're whining, but it's harmless, just the feeling of the loss of him making you shift, circling your arms around his neck as you slam your lips against his.
You nip his bottom lip and he obediently opens his mouth, letting you taste the remnants of the apple soda you shared earlier, and the soft mint lip balm. he is panting when you finally pull away, his cheeks flushed, the soft sounds of his breathing making you fond. How can he….how can he make such pretty sounds?
“Caleb.” And your hands are grabbing at his belt, quick to undo it and shift down to the button, the zipper. “You drive me crazy, you know? Whenever…when you make those sounds. I just want to - you sound so pretty.” You decide against telling him you want to lock yourself in his room with him, and never leave his bed.
“Pipsqueak -” his cheeks have darkened, and he has to clear his throat. “You always say that -’
“And I always mean it.” You slide a hand up his cock, eager and not at all gentle, rewarded with a whimpered hiss, his hand grabbing your wrist.
“Rough -” he pants and you shoot him an innocent look from under your lashes. “Don't try and pretend you don't know what you're doing.” He says and you simply lick your palm, going to touch him again, just for your hand to drop to your thigh, his evol freezing you in place .
“Caleb -” but he's hoisting you up, met with your whining as he shifts behind you. “But I wanna see your face -”
“Nope. That's for when you're being a good girl.” And it's a fun little game you think, this banter between the two of you.
And you reach to grab the top of the stone, resting your upper body against it as you look back at him.
“I'm such a bad girl, Caleb, what are you going to do about it?” You grin, snickering as he groans, rubbing a hand across his forehead.
“Right now?” And he loops his fingers into your panties, tugging them down. “Right now I'm going to fuck you till you behave…or at least I'll give it my best shot.”
“Mm, I want a shot of you, Caleb - ngh!” Before you can even bask in your funny joke, he’s inside of you, all the breath leaving your lungs as your brain short circuits. He didn’t give you the usual slow slide, where he was sweet and gentle, but the burn is delicious like this, your nails digging against stone as you try to hold yourself up.
“Mm, it already made you quiet, at least.” His hold on your hips is bruising, and you hope it leaves marks - that it leaves his fingerprints to tide you over when he’s back in Skyhaven. You’re still sensitive from your orgasm, trying to muffle your sounds with your hand as he slams his hips into yours.
No mercy - that thought is hazy in your pleasure addled brain.
“Why’re you covering your mouth?” He asks, smug. “Are you worried someone will hear? Is it Grandma?” And you gasp at that, tossing a look back at him, just to catch his gleaming, mischievous gaze.
“Caleb! Ba~ad!” Every time he thrusts into you your breath stutters, a shiver working its way through you as he traces the curve of your spine with his fingers, pushing your dress up as he does.
“Caleb is bad.” He agrees. “Caleb is absolutely terrible.” He punctuates each statement with a - with a slam of hips against yours, his cock buried deep inside of you. “Caleb is the worst.” “C-Caleb…Caleb is the best.” You counter, eyes shut tight, your body just so full of him. “Caleb is my favorite.” It's stammered and stuttered and punctuated by whimpers you can’t control. “Ca~aleb!” and okay, you can’t help how loud you’re being, he isn’t leaving you a choice. The way he’s fucking you, the way he just…
He knows your body best, knows you best, knows how to leave you breathless and begging for him. His sharp, quick thrusts that fade into languid strokes only to speed up again, the way his hands roam your body, conscious of the places that will have you wiggling away, and those that will have you whining for more.
“I love it when you say my name like this.” He reaches an arm around your stomach, pulling you up. ““You should only ever call out for me, pipsqueak. Only I get to have you like this.” and now that he has you pressed against him, his chest against your back, you can turn your head, begging for a messy kiss he’s eager to give you.
All tongue and teeth and torturous desire. His free hand sliding up your dress to cup one of your breasts, fingers pinching gently at the nipple.
“Mmmph!” You whine against his mouth, pulling away just to look at the glistening trail of saliva that connects you to him. “Bully. As - As punishment, hurry up a-and make me cum.” and he gives you a little smirk.
“You keep forgetting what punishments are, I’m not supposed to enjoy doing it.” But he’s already shifting his hands so he can rub circles around your clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. “Your wish is always my command.”
Now he is everything. Your every thought, every neuron in your body tied to him, just to him, all encompassing and divine. You resonate with him, without even having to try, in this moment, your pleasure bleeding into his, so that you can feel him tensing, something that sounds like your name leaving his lips.
But you hardly hear it, hardly hear anything but the unrestrained echoes of your pleasure across the cemetery as you cum again, dragging him with you - the explosion of heat spilling from your core, till your thighs are dripping in him.
And you are sure if he wasn’t holding onto you, you’d be flat on the ground, face first in the blanket you brought, but instead, his hand is gentle as he grabs your chin, tilting your face up. “Look” He murmurs, pointing up.
You’re greeted with the meteor shower at its peak, streaks of light shooting across the night sky. You’re entranced, letting him gently maneuver you back onto the blanket, your panties disappearing into the pocket of his pants…after he cleans you up with them.
Then, once he’s fixed his own clothes, he's laying beside you, letting you gently play with his hair as you watch the universe’s mysteries unfold just above you, just for the two of you. “I was worried we’d miss it.” He yawns. “But look at us, we finished with perfect timing.” Caleb, your heart is fond, Caleb, always looking to the sky, even with his feet planted firmly on the ground. “Mmhmm.” You snuggle against him. “I could sleep here, you’re going to have to carry me back to the car, if I do.”
“I figured as much.” He chuckles. “As much as I would be happy to oblige, I don’t like the idea of you falling asleep on a grave, Pipsqueak.” and he’s gently coaxing you to watch the stars, hoping the flashes across the sky will hold you enough to keep you awake.’Even if it’s my grave.” “Well, then you shouldn’t have made me see stars before there were stars to see.” You attempt another bad joke, rewarded by him groaning, laughing as he calls you corny, letting the two of you fall into comfortable silence.
“Is it all you hoped it would be?” Caleb’s voice has gone soft and sweet, unaware that your eyes are on him, not the stars. “Better.” You try to memorize the shine in his eyes, the childlike wonder and hope as he looks up at the night sky. This is your favorite version of him, when you both feel safe, when you’re together. “More beautiful than I could have imagined.”
