Chapter Text
The first time Fjord and Caleb share a room Beau hands Molly three silver pieces. Caleb turns so red for a moment Fjord is afraid he might faint. Fjord grumbles good-naturedly about the rudeness of betting on friends and tries not to think about the fact that they’d apparently been so obvious. He’d been waiting for Caleb to suggest telling them, knowing the man was private and still skittish with the group, but he supposes he isn’t the most… subtle flirter. He’s worried that when they get up to their room, Caleb will panic but he doesn’t. He does press close when they climb into the bed, muttering under his breath in Zemnian and still flushed. Fjord chuckles and strokes a thumb along his cheekbone.
“I like it when you turn pink like this,” he murmurs, which only makes Caleb’s blush darken.
“You are not upset?” the other man asks, voice muffled against Fjord’s shoulder. Fjord shifts his hand to Caleb’s hair, carding through the strands. Caleb’s been washing more and his hair is soft, almost shining in the dim light of the one candle.
“No Caleb, I’m not upset,” he says quietly. “I’m fine with them knowing. I just wish we’d gotten to wait until you were ready to tell them.”
Caleb sighs softly.
“I’m not sure I ever would have been,” he murmurs. Fjord knows not to take personally. Caleb is more relaxed with them than he used to be but he still walks on eggshells, like the slightest change or misspoken word will send them all turning on him. It makes his chest ache but he knows it will only fade with time. He wishes he knew more about what had happened to make Caleb so afraid, so sure that the people he cared for would abandon him at the drop of a hat, the first argument. He’s fairly certain Beau knows. She'd started to treat Caleb more delicately after the Victory Pit. Not in a condescending way, but the way you’d treat a skittish stray that you wanted to stick around, gentle and careful. She doesn’t raise her voice at him anymore, and her sarcasm is less biting with him, her tones softer.
There is a part of him that insists that he should be the one Caleb confides in, that twists with hurt that Caleb didn’t feel he could trust him with his past, but he shakes it off. Whatever had lead to Caleb telling Beau his secrets he was glad that he’d been able to share with someone.
Caleb will tell him when he is ready, and Fjord will respect his choices, no matter what his instincts have to say about mates and how it’s his right and no one else’s to protect and comfort his.
Caleb is human, he wouldn’t understand those kinds of thoughts. They’d frighten him, Fjord is sure, feel smothering and controlling.
“Then it would have stayed our secret,” he says quietly and Caleb gives a soft laugh.
“They’d have figured it out eventually.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Fjord says with a sigh, kissing Caleb’s hair. His tusks are getting long again and he wonders absently if it’s time to reach for his file, but then he remembers Jester telling him he’d be handsome either way and Caleb’s soft ‘cosigned’ and brushes the thought away.
A little longer.
Caleb gives a soft sigh and it sounds happy. He snuggles a bit closer and Fjord feels a pleased chuffle building in his throat. He manages to suppress it, knowing it would sound strange to Caleb.
His mate is happy. His mate is safe.
***
He dreams of salt and the eye and the deep booming voice of his Patron. He dreams of his mother and the bite mark on her neck that she never tried to hide. Her quiet pride and the way the sneers of the people in the nearby village never seemed to touch her. He dreams of his father’s grave behind their small cabin and the way her eyes would go distant sometimes.
He dreams of Caleb, warm and safe and his.
***
They take their time going down to breakfast the next morning. Caleb is still embarrassed and Fjord had woken warm and surrounded by his scent and is reluctant to share him with the rest of the world just yet. He knows he’s being more touchy than usual, hovering close and brushing against Caleb at every opportunity. When he interrupts Caleb pulling on his shirt to wrap his arms around his waist from behind the man gives a laugh, looking over his shoulder at him with a baffled expression.
“What’s gotten into you?” he asks. He sounds amused more than annoyed though, so Fjord just nuzzles against his neck, breathing in more of his scent.
“Do I need a reason to want to touch you?” he asks teasingly, squeezing his arms around Caleb just a bit. Caleb laughs again and it’s such a beautiful sound.
“I suppose not,” he says, leaning back into the embrace. “I’d like to know what I’ve done to earn this though, so I can do it again.”
The words make Fjord’s chest ache, and he presses closer. He’d known that Caleb thought affection was something he had to constantly earn. It was in the way he was so desperate to do them all little favors, the way he was so shocked and overwhelmed when any of them did the same for him. He reacted to small acts of kindness the way most people reacted to praise, flattered and stammering and flushed, proud of himself because it meant he’d done something good, something that made him worthy of their kindness.
He hadn’t figured out yet how to go about disabusing him of that notion.
“Just being you is enough,” he murmurs and sure enough Caleb’s brow furrows in confusion. Time, Fjord reminds himself. It’s going to take time.
“If you say so, Mein Schatz,” Caleb says. “I really do need to get dressed though, if you want to eat any time soon.”
Fjord grumbles and lets the noise drift just a little bit into growl territory as he pulls away. Caleb just gives another little chuckle and Fjord smiles. He’d been worried his growls would scare Caleb. They did most people, but Caleb’s never drawn away from him when one slips out. He knows he has to be careful though, Caleb’s so quick to interpret other people’s reactions as anger, disappointment. The last thing he wants is to growl in the wrong context and send the man thinking he was angry at him.
“I guess it’s alright since it means I get bacon,” he teases and Caleb shakes his head affectionately.
“You are ridiculous,” he says as he settles his shirt against his skin. His clothes are clean too, still worn and a little ragged but clean. Fjord gives him a kiss on the cheek as he passes him to walk out the door.
“Bacon, Caleb!” he calls.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Caleb answers amusement still in his voice.
The mission they’re on for the Gentleman is pretty straightforward this time. One of his contacts has gone dark, and they’re supposed to check up and see what had happened, make sure he isn’t being double-crossed.
Easy, short, and good pay. Just like they liked it.
After breakfast, they ask discreetly around the village and come up with nothing. A few people who’ve heard of their man but none who really seem to know him and no one who knows where he’s gone.
“Well,” Beau says, leaning back in her chair. “His shit’s still all in his house, so we know he probably didn’t make a break for it.” They’ve retired back to the inn after their fruitless search and are sitting around a table in the common room, discussing their next move in hushed voices.
“Probably,” Caleb agrees. “But he might have run with nothing if he was frightened enough.”
“But if he was scared of something or someone why not run back to the Gentleman? Get some protection?” Molly asks and a disgruntled silence fell over the group.
“Maybe he was up to something and he thinks the Gentleman’s on to him?” Nott suggests and Caleb sighs into his ale.
“This is all just speculation,” he points out. “We need something concrete. There has to be something in his belongings or his home that will tell us something.”
“We looked through all his boring papers, already,” Jester groans.
“Yeah, but it seems to me a man like this would be good at hiding things,” Fjord says. “Maybe we just need to do a more thorough search. Look for hidden compartments and shit.”
There’s a collective sigh around the table.
“This job’s lame,” Beau grumbles and no one argues with her.
***
Caleb doesn’t like to put his head under water. He’s never explained why and Fjord, having been a sailor, knows enough about hang-ups like that to know not to ask. Instead, he fills his canteen with the bathwater and uses it to rinse Caleb’s hair without getting his face wet. Caleb had protested the first time, flushed and stammering and embarrassed by the attention, but he relaxes into it now. He tilts his head back and lets out a contented noise as Fjord runs his fingers through the strands.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this job,” Fjord murmurs as he rinses soap from Caleb’s auburn hair. “I might have Molly give me a reading about it.”
Caleb couldn’t quite contain his scoff and Fjord pinched him lightly on the arm. He winced, mouth twisting.
“I’m sorry, I know you believe in it. I should be more respectful,” he murmurs and Fjord shrugs, giving his hair another rinse. There was no soap left he just like the way the water played through it, made it shine.
“It’s alright, Caleb,” he says softly, leaning down to kiss the man’s bare throat.
Too bare. He chases the thought away.
“What is making you so nervous?” Caleb asks, even as he leans into the touch. Fjord considers for a long moment, shifting where he sits beside the tub. It’s a cheaply made thing that they’d been told they’d have to carry up the stairs themselves but it held water and heat well enough.
Fjord sighs, trying to put into words his vague sense that the Clan is in danger. Eventually, he just shrugs.
“I don’t really know,” he murmurs. “It’s just a feeling.” Caleb turns in the water enough that he can look at Fjord directly, a concerned frown marring his features.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asks and Fjord loves him so gods damned much. He reaches up, stroking his thumb along Caleb’s cheekbone and cupping his cheek.
“Just… stay close? Where I can see you?” he asks. Caleb leans into his touch and nods.
Eventually, Fjord is willing to admit that it’s mostly his fault how long it takes, they both finish their baths and make their way to bed. Rather than curling up against him like he did the night before, Caleb leans in to kiss him, long and slow and Fjord has to hold back another chuff. Caleb has never asked to be touched with words, he doesn’t ask for much with words and Fjord assumes he’s too afraid of offending or asking for too much. Instead, he asks like this, with kisses that carry just the slightest edge of desperation, hands that wander along Fjord’s arms, but never too far, tentative in case the answer is no.
Fjord likes to think he’s becoming fluent in Caleb.
He rolls them carefully so Caleb is beneath him and the Wizard moans, arching up into him. Fjord grins into the kiss, nipping at Caleb’s lower lip to hear him gasp.
He’d expected Caleb’s taciturn nature to carry over into sex but Caleb is beautifully responsive. He gasps and arches and shivers at the slightest touch. He’s not loud really, but that’s probably for the best. As much as he’d like to hear Caleb scream the rest of the Nein didn’t need to.
He turns, kissing and nipping along Caleb’s jaw and down to his neck, chasing the little gasps and soft moans Caleb gives him.
“Fjord,” the other man murmurs and Fjord nips a little more sharply than he intended at the sound of his name. Caleb arches one of his hands fisting in Fjord’s hair and Fjord groans.
There is a spot on Caleb’s neck, right where it begins to dip into his shoulder, soft and delicate and visible above his clothes almost all the time and Fjord wants. He avoids the spot entirely, pulling back to pull his shirt over his head. Caleb sits up enough to follow suit and when they press together again there’s nothing between them at all. Fjord can’t stop the pleased growl that escapes him at the feel of Caleb’s skin on his and the man shivers but he keeps holding Fjord close.
Fjord leans down to nip at his ear.
“What do you want, Caleb?” he asks softly. Caleb doesn’t answer with words but the way he rocks his hips up against Fjord’s, their hard cocks brushing together is eloquent enough without them.
Fjord climbs off the bed and reaches for his pack and Caleb whimpers.
“Just a sec,” Fjord says over his shoulder as he searches through the pockets. “Oil.”
The noise Caleb makes can only be described as belligerent and it makes Fjord want to scruff him. He shakes off the thought, standing with the oil in his hand and making his way back to the bed. He stops dead as soon as he turns because Caleb has a hand on his cock and is slowly stroking, staring at Fjord with hooded eyes and flushed cheeks.
He’d almost think it was a calculated tease if he believed for even a second Caleb is aware how devastatingly sexy he looks while doing it.
“Fuck,” Fjord breathes crossing the distance between them and climbing back onto the bed. He sets the oil aside sitting back to watch Caleb. The man doesn’t stop touching himself but his rhythm falters and he starts to chew at his lip, nervous and self-conscious now that Fjord is actively watching. “You are so fucking gorgeous.”
Caleb’s flush darkens and his hand moves just a little faster matching the rhythm of his quickening breaths. Nervous as h is he’s getting off on Fjord watching him.
The realization is like a punch to Fjord’s gut and his own cock twitches at all the things he could do with that wonderful little bit of knowledge.
He reaches for the oil and starts to slick his fingers and Caleb shivers, his hand beginning to move away from his cock and Fjord shakes his head.
“Don’t stop,” he says, reaching between Caleb’s legs to stroke slick fingers along his entrance. Caleb whimpers and takes up his rhythm again, spreading his legs wider. “Good boy.”
Fjord can’t help the way the little bit of praise slips out. He’d be embarrassed if it wasn’t for the way Caleb’s breath hitched. Well, a night for revelations then.
He leans down and kisses Caleb as he slides the first finger in, swallowing down the man’s moan. He takes a slower rhythm than the one Caleb’s using on his cock as he starts to thrust and it makes Caleb whine.
“Fjord,” he whispers. “Mehr… bitte.”
Fjord doesn’t know Zemnian but he’s started to pick up a few key phrases over the weeks, so he presses in the second finger savoring the way Caleb arches and sighs. He crooks them carefully searching… and grins when Caleb lets out a choked noise that approaches actual volume.
“Ja,” he gasps. “Genau da!”
Fjord chuckles and repeats the motion, pulling back to watch the way Caleb twists and rocks his hips into the touch.
“Ich bin-” Caleb cuts himself off, seeming to realize Fjord won’t be able to understand him. “I’m ready, please that’s enough!”
Fjord growls again and pulls his fingers free. He slicks himself as quickly as he can while still being thorough and leans down to kiss Caleb as he slowly presses inside. Caleb’s arms go around his shoulders, abandoning his attention to his own cock to clutch at his lover.
“Fuck, you feel so good, Caleb,” Fjord breathes against the other man’s lips, rocking in small motions until their hips are pressed flush and he’s as deep as he can get. Caleb groans, his fingernails digging into Fjord’s shoulders just a little in a way that lights fire down his spine.
“Move,” Caleb says and it’s almost a growl of his own, voice low and strained. Fjord is helpless to do anything but obey. Caleb asking for what he wants with actual words is never going to stop being unbearably hot.
He doesn’t bother with slow, he’s too turned on and by the way Caleb was begging earlier he doubts he’ll last long enough for teasing either. He gives Caleb what he asks for, thrusting hard and deep, switching up the angle until he finds the one that makes Caleb arch and cry out. He’s going to have scratches down his back from the way Caleb is clawing at him and the idea drags another growl from his throat. He wishes his shirt was low enough to show them, to show everyone how well he'd pleased him.
He reaches between them wrapping his hand around Caleb’s cock and stroking. He tries to match the rhythm of his hips but he’s too close to really make it work, hands shaking with pleasure and the need to come. Luckily Caleb’s in similar shape and his lack of finesse isn’t noticed. The man comes with a sharp cry of Fjord’s name, spilling over Fjord’s fingers and writhing beneath him. Fjord follows a moment later and has to latch on to the pillow with his teeth to keep from biting, that perfect spot on Caleb’s neck calling to him in the moment.
When he comes back to himself he’s got a mouth full of feathers and cheap tavern pillowcase. Caleb is high enough from his orgasm to laugh as Fjord turns to spit them out, the sound as close to carefree as Fjord’s ever heard from him.
“Yeah, real funny,” Fjord grouses but he’s laughing too, shaking his head and tossing the ruined pillow to the floor.
“How many is that now? Three?” Caleb asks teasingly. Fjord flops down next to him, shaking his head.
“At least this one wasn’t stuffed with hay,” he mutters and Caleb chuckles again. He shifts so that his head is resting on Fjord’s chest and Fjord wraps his arm around him, settling close. That bare spot on Caleb’s neck taunts him and he does his best to ignore it.
He can’t just… there are so many things he’d have to explain first, and there’s no guarantee that Caleb would even want what the mark would mean. He sighs, stroking his hand through Caleb’s hair as the man starts to drift off.
After this job is done, he’ll talk to Caleb then.