Lionett’s was the same as always—warm and dark, smoke cloying in the air as a dim, indecipherable song played from old speakers. Something to fill the silence of lonely drinkers on a quiet night. It was a far cry from the bars and clubs further downtown, a hole-in-the-wall that was much more Fjord’s speed than thumping basslines and crowds of bodies writhing against each other. Here he could claim his usual stool at the end of the bar as Beau set one drink in front of him after another. Here was about the only place in town that he was known better than the docks, but at least here there weren’t coworkers to talk behind his back about the small, quiet half orc.
He knew they talked. Everyone talked. The break room went silent every time he walked in to grab his lunch. Conversations fell to whispers when he passed by them as they hauled cargo around.
By now he’d grown used to it. Didn’t stop it from hurting, though.
The city was meant to be a big change. A step up from a small town and an orphanage and an upbringing tinged with loneliness and rejection. Instead, he’d found more of the same.
His lot in life, he supposed. Work, drink, die. Those were the only three things on his life’s to-do list and the first two were coming along easy enough. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the third to take its time or not anymore.
Fjord sat with his elbows on the bar, fingertips tracing the rim of his half-empty glass. Condensation dripped down the sides and he smeared it across the bar as he lifted the glass to his lips, trails of water reflecting the lights overhead.
His life in the city was supposed to be better. Richer. Happier. He’d never considered that people would be the same. Had been too naive to think that they still wouldn’t want him around. Dreams of an apartment by the seaside had quickly been dashed when he realized how expensive those were, and that idealism was a shitty way to pay the bills. He’d settled for a shithole apartment further inland. He’d settled for the first job he could find. His whole damn life he’d settled, and he had so little to show for it.
“Mind if I join you?”
The voice pulled Fjord from his thoughts. He realized he was still staring at the water on the bar, at his hand laying on top of the worn wood, and he quickly pulled his hand back and sat up a bit straighter as he looked towards the source of the question.
The man was handsome. Handsomer than any man Fjord ever thought would approach him in a bar (not that he’d ever expected any of them to actually do that, of course. Any looks of interest had been ignored enough that Fjord stopped trying. The last—and only—guy whose interest he’d caught had been a decent enough time in bed but then he’d never seen him again. Fjord gave him his number but he never called. And that had been long enough ago that Fjord was embarrassed to admit it now.). Dark reddish-brown hair was pulled back at the sides and top, the rest left to hang just above the man’s shoulders. Blue eyes—bright blue, the brightest things in the room—regarded Fjord with a curious look and it was only then that Fjord realized he hadn’t answered.
He glanced around at the nearly-empty bar, at all of the seats this man could have wanted more than the one right next to him, before nodding.
“Yeah, sure,” he said, gesturing to the stool on his left side. “I mean, no. I guess. I don’t mind.”
Real smooth. Surely any interest this man may have in him was quickly waning.
“Apologies for interrupting your thoughts,” the man said as he sat down. His movements were fluid, Fjord noted, his posture perfect as he perched at the end of the stool and hooked one ankle behind the other. He leaned forward, mimicking Fjord’s own position with his elbows on the bar.
“No, no. It’s alright.” Fjord managed a tentative smile.
The man’s returning smile was wide and close-lipped. “Penny for them?”
Fjord couldn’t help but scoff. “They’re hardly worth that.”
“Then they hardly seem worth troubling yourself over,” the man gave a wave to get Beau’s attention, then gestured to himself and Fjord. “Mind if I buy you a drink?”
“Oh.” Fjord glanced over to Beau before he tipped his head back, finishing off his drink and setting the empty glass down. “Yeah,” he said, “if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” The man turned his attention to Beau as she approached with another drink for Fjord. “Whiskey, please. Neat. And you can put whatever he’s having on my tab.”
Beau raised an eyebrow, her gaze shifting from the man to Fjord, who only gave a little shrug as he sipped at his drink.
“Name for the tab?” She asked as she looked back at the man.
“Widogast,” the man replied. With a nod Beau turned to busy herself with pouring a drink before setting it down in front of the man. When she returned to the other side of the bar the man—Widogast, apparently—took his glass in hand and raised it toward Fjord.
“It’s Caleb to my friends, though,” he said with a wink before taking a sip. Fjord felt his face heat up.
“Is that what we are now?” he asked and Caleb gave a little laugh.
“I only buy drinks for my friends.”
Fjord raised an eyebrow at that. He glanced over at Beau but she didn’t appear to be eavesdropping. Nobody was around them. Caleb didn’t appear to have a crew of friends off in a corner who’d dared him to flirt with the scrawny half orc, but something still wasn’t adding up.
“Why me?” he asked. It was an honest question, probably too honest, and the moment he asked it he knew he was killing any chance at this man wanting to keep talking to him. But Caleb didn’t move, didn’t appear to feel insulted as he sipped at his drink.
“You looked like you could use a friend,” he replied, and something inside Fjord ached at that, at how obvious it must be.
“I guess I do.”
Caleb raised his drink towards Fjord. “To friends?”
A moment passed. Fjord’s gaze flicked from Caleb’s slender fingers wrapped around the glass to his piercing blue eyes to the wry smile that turned a corner of his mouth up.
“To friends,” he agreed as he clinked the rim of his glass against Caleb’s.
The moment his apartment door closed behind them, Fjord found himself shoved up against it. His head was spinning with a cocktail of exhilaration, arousal, and a bit of the booze he’d had. Not enough to make him sloppy, but just enough to make him eager to show Caleb just how bad he wanted this. Needed this. Gods above, he needed this.
Caleb’s hands were everywhere, his mouth already working on sucking a mark into Fjord’s neck. A low groan left Fjord, his hips canting up towards Caleb’s touch as Caleb made quick work of his belt buckle.
Without preamble Caleb shoved his hand down the front of Fjord’s pants, and with another groan Fjord went weak in the knees. He was embarrassingly hard already, a side effect of how long his dry spell has been, but Caleb didn’t seem to mind. If anything, the smile he gave Fjord when he pulled back was encouraging.
“So eager,” he murmured, voice low and smooth. “I like that. How long were you thinking of this?”
“I…” Fjord was searching for words but the way Caleb’s hand was moving, sliding over fabric and coaxing him to get even harder, robbed him of coherent thoughts. “I, uh. I mean—”
“I bet you started considering it the moment I sat down next to you.” Caleb sank to his knees and Fjord was pretty sure he was dreaming. This had to be a dream. He didn’t bring hot guys home from bars. He didn’t have weekend hookups. But Caleb still felt so real, no dream had ever felt like this before. So as Caleb began to slide Fjord’s pants down his legs and mouth at the outline of his cock in his briefs, Fjord came to the decision that this was somehow real and he was going to go along with whatever Caleb wanted to do.
Fjord watched Caleb, his hands stuck at his sides (what did he do with them? Did Caleb want Fjord to pull his hair? Should Fjord ask first or should he just go for it?) as Caleb continued to tease Fjord through the fabric of his underwear. His eyes opened, bright as ever and so blue Fjord thinks he could give the sea in sunlight a run for its money, and Fjord found himself transfixed by Caleb’s gaze.
He could fall into those eyes and stay there forever. He wanted to. He wanted Caleb to keep looking at him, wanted to be the only thing Caleb paid attention to, and with a low growl he found the confidence to run his fingers through Caleb’s hair and keep them there, hand resting on the back of Caleb’s head.
Caleb nearly purred, he looked so pleased at the contact. “That’s it. There you go. How soon after I bought you that drink did you start to think about me sucking your cock?”
Another groan ripped itself from Fjord, a low noise of pure need as Caleb’s fingers hooked in the waistband of Fjord’s briefs but didn’t move to pull them down. The truth welled up inside of him, and before he knew what was happening he blurted it out.
“I didn’t. Not at first. Not until…”
Caleb slowly began to tug at Fjord’s waistband. “Until?”
“Until you touched me. Until you whispered in my ear.”
Caleb’s hand, warm on his thigh. Caleb’s voice, rich and smooth. Caleb’s cologne, hanging heavy in the air between them. It filled him with excitement. With comfort.
“What if we took this somewhere else?”
A hundred fantasies. A thousand desires. Arousal settling warm and heavy deep in the pit of his stomach, between his legs. His answer given without hesitation.
“My place. It’s not too far.”
The answer seemed to surprise Caleb, but he still looked pleased. “Really?”
“Interesting.” Caleb looked to be considering something. Fjord nearly asked him what was on his mind, but Caleb nodded before he could, apparently reaching a satisfying conclusion to his train of thought.
And with that he pulled Fjord’s briefs down in one fluid motion before taking his cock in hand and licking a long, slow stripe up the underside.
Fjord’s own train of thought came to a screeching halt. The world narrowed down to only a few points of interest—namely, Caleb’s hands and mouth and what they were doing to him. Caleb moved without hesitation, giving Fjord a few slow strokes as he took the head of Fjord’s cock in his mouth and moved his tongue in a way that had Fjord clutching Caleb’s hair and groaning.
“Would you like to fuck my mouth?” Fjord heard and he looked down at Caleb, who was a beautiful sight on his knees, hair falling in his face, smiling lips pink and wet.
“Is that even a question?”
Caleb laughed, giving Fjord another stroke. “I guess I’m not asking if you’d like to. I’m telling you that you can, if you’d like.”
Fjord’s reply was immediate. “I’d like. I’d...like very much, yeah.”
“Don’t come, though,” Caleb added. Fjord bit back a moan as Caleb’s hand continued to stroke his cock, thumb spreading precum that was already beginning to leak from the tip. “I think I’d like to ride you later.”
Fjord was past the point of being able to form a coherent reply to that. He just nodded, grip tightening in Caleb’s hair as Caleb opened his mouth, tongue sticking out ever so slightly.
Fjord could take a hint when he saw one. And if Caleb’s resulting satisfied groan when Fjord pulled Caleb’s head toward him and thrust his cock into Caleb’s waiting mouth was any indication, he’d successfully gotten the message.
Caleb’s mouth was perfect. Tight and wet and warm and already Fjord was groaning with each thrust of his hips, trying to keep things gentle at first. He didn’t want to hurt Caleb, after all, not after what Caleb had promised him was coming after this anyway. But even as he slowly, shallowly fucked Caleb’s mouth, he felt Caleb’s hands running up over the backs of his knees, of his thighs, until he gripped Fjord’s ass in both hands and pulled Fjord towards him.
Fjord felt the head of his cock hit the back of Caleb’s throat and he swore he could see stars. His hips moved of their own volition, the sensation nearly overwhelming as Caleb swallowed around him like it was the easiest thing in the world.
“Y-You’re good at this,” Fjord said, voice shaking, because it felt like something needed to be said. Caleb’s only reply was to moan around Fjord’s length and send shockwaves of pleasure shooting through Fjord. He snapped his hips forward a little faster, a little harder, testing Caleb’s limits (though such a thing didn’t seem to exist). Caleb looked up at him and Fjord could swear his eyes flashed, a brief flicker of light cutting through his dim apartment.
Caleb, still clearly unsatisfied with Fjord’s performance, began to bob his head with each of Fjord’s thrusts. Slowly he took more and more of the length, until his nose was pressed flush against dark curls, the entirety of Fjord’s cock in his mouth, and Fjord had to pull Caleb off of him before he gave in to the urge to come down Caleb’s throat.
Caleb gasped, an obscene trail of saliva running down his chin as he kept his gaze up on Fjord.
The only explanation he offered was “I got eager,” said with a wry grin in a low, scratchy voice.
“I noticed.” Fjord breathed heavily, trying his best to get a grip on himself even as Caleb returned to stroking his cock, licking up the sides and around the tip in a way that Fjord could nearly call affectionate. Fjord closed his eyes, still trying to focus on his breathing, until a flick of Caleb’s tongue dragged a long, low moan from him.
“Bed,” he said abruptly, before Caleb could bring him over the edge that he was quickly careening toward. “Please. Now.”
“If you insist,” Caleb replied, and Fjord opened his eyes just in time to see Caleb get up off his knees. He moved with a grace that Fjord had never seen, everything smooth and perfectly calculated as he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over on the nearby couch, a ratty old thing that Fjord had only bought because it felt like something needed to go in his living room, even if he barely had an excuse for extra seating in his apartment.
Caleb broke the silence that had settled over the room, pulling his shirt up over his head next. “Lead the way. And get naked on your way there.”
Fjord slid his underwear down, stepping out of both his briefs and his pants and kicking them aside. As he moved past Caleb a hand reached out, cupping his ass and giving it a squeeze, and a breathless laugh left him. He was running on a high of pleasure, of the adrenaline that came from a spontaneous hookup, from the surprise that his night had taken such a turn. Glancing over his shoulder, Fjord could see that Caleb was following him with a hungry look in his eyes, like Fjord was his first meal after days of starvation.
He shed his shirt by the time they reached his bedroom, and Caleb was quick to strip the rest of the way down. The curtains of Fjord’s window were pulled back, moonlight spilling into the room, and as Fjord backed up and sat down on the end of his bed, he admired Caleb’s naked form. He was slim and perfect, freckles dotting his shoulders and chest, soft red hair covering his chest and leading down his stomach in an enticing trail toward his cock, which was just as slender as the rest of him, hard and curved up ever so slightly, flushed with the same pink that colored his face and chest.
“Beautiful,” Fjord found himself saying under his breath as Caleb approached, straddling him in one fluid motion as Fjord scooted back and laid down.
“Speak for yourself,” Caleb replied, hips thrusting just a bit, and that’s when Fjord realized that their cocks were pressed together. Caleb couldn’t quite take both of them in hand but he made an admirable effort, grinding his length against Fjord’s as his head rolled back.
Fjord was content to lay back and let Caleb do as he pleased. Whatever he had planned was surely better than anything Fjord could come up with, and the idea of letting Caleb use him for his own satisfaction brought with it a fresh wave of pleasure that had him moaning Caleb’s name.
He heard Caleb chuckle. “Oh, you sound so pretty like that.” Another thrust drew another moan out of Fjord, and resulted in another laugh.
“Positively adorable.” Caleb leaned down, chest flush against Fjord’s, pressing his mouth just under Fjord’s jawline. Fjord tilted his head, intent on meeting Caleb’s lips with his own, before Caleb abruptly pulled back.
“Not on the mouth,” he said quickly, halting all movement, and for a second Fjord was afraid he’d done something terribly offensive. Caleb met his eyes and for a split second his gaze was intense, brokering absolutely no argument, before it softened. When he spoke his voice was as soothing as ever.
“Just a rule I have. It’s too romantic, you know?” He returned to grinding down against Fjord. Fjord, relieved that he hadn’t just ruined everything, could only nod at that. Caleb’s mouth found Fjord’s neck again, sucking into his skin what Fjord was sure would be a mark that he’d still have in the morning, and the thought had him groaning and bringing a hand up to the back of Caleb’s neck to keep him close.
Caleb left a line of marks, working almost methodically before he pulled back and admired his work. His free hand traced down them, fingertips barely glancing over Fjord’s skin. Being under Caleb’s gaze was a pleasure all on its own. Fjord felt like he could melt under such a gaze, that Caleb could tear him apart with one scrutinous look or bring him to new heights with his approval. He watched Caleb smile and nod, and Fjord felt heat course up under his skin at Caleb’s silent satisfaction.
“Have you got any lube?” Caleb asked and Fjord nodded.
“Bedside table—” he started to answer, and Caleb seemed to be sliding off of the bed and climbing back on in the span of only seconds. Fjord blinked and Caleb was looming over him again, and the hungry look had returned to his eyes.
“Open me up?” He held the bottle out to Fjord, and Fjord was quick to take it and slick up his fingers.
Caleb took Fjord’s hand and guided it behind him, letting go only when Fjord’s fingers were right where he wanted them. Fjord teased him for only a moment with only the slightest pressure from his fingers before he slipped one inside. Caleb took it beautifully, stretching easily as he ground down against Fjord’s hand and gave a soft moan.
“More,” he groaned, and Fjord was happy to oblige. A second finger was added easily enough, then a third after a few more thrusts, and Fjord was sure he’d never stretched himself open this easily but maybe Caleb was just different from the average guy.
Not that Fjord had much experience to compare Caleb to. Maybe he was the problem. So uptight, so unused to sex that it took forever to get him going—
He was pulled from the downward spiral of his thoughts by Caleb, who was riding his hand in earnest now and letting out high, breathy moans with each crook of Fjord’s fingers inside him.
“I need your cock,” he sighed, nails scraping down Fjord’s chest as he fully sat up. “Right now.”
Fjord withdrew his fingers as Caleb lifted himself up on his knees. Whatever Fjord was planning on doing with his hands didn’t seem to matter, Caleb was quick to grab his wrists and guide Fjord’s hands to his side. Fjord quickly took the hint, sliding his palms over Caleb’s sides and down to rest on his hips, thumbs digging into the grooves he found there.
“Sit up. Mouth on me.”
Fjord obeyed the command immediately. With a low grunt he sat up, mouth finding the line of Caleb’s collarbone as he began to press kisses there. He faintly recognized the feeling of Caleb’s hand on his cock, of Caleb positioning himself in his lap, and then he was engulfed in a tight, wet heat that had him moaning Caleb’s name into his neck. Caleb slid down the length of Fjord’s cock effortlessly, sitting still with it inside him and giving a contented hum. He let Fjord continue to kiss at his neck, leaving marks of his own as his hands trailed reverently back up Caleb’s sides, over his back and then to his chest. He cupped Caleb’s pecs in his hands, thumbs finding Caleb’s already-hard nipples and rubbing them in slow, easy circles.
Suddenly, he felt Caleb’s hands on his chest. He pushed, bringing Fjord to lay back down, and as Fjord fell back Caleb went with him. Using Fjord as leverage he began to move, bringing himself up and letting himself slide back down, using Fjord as if he were nothing more than a toy.
Haloed in the moonlight around him, Caleb looked heavenly as he fucked himself on Fjord’s cock. His hair was ringed in silver, streaks of light and shadow trailing down his body in a pattern that had Fjord itching to reach out and trace with his fingertips. Fjord could swear his eyes were glowing, bright blue embers that were the brightest light in the room, and the longer he stared the more he found himself getting lost in them.
Caleb was adjusting his angle with each slide back down Fjord’s length, clearly searching for something, and Fjord could tell he found it when Caleb threw his hair back, crying out loud enough that Fjord was sure his neighbors could hear.
Wasn’t as if he saw them much anyway. He wasn’t about to tell Caleb to stop making such amazing sounds.
“Fuck!” Caleb exclaimed. “That’s it, that’s it. You feel so good. Can’t wait for you to fill me up Fjord. You’re getting close, right?”
If he hadn’t been before, the desperation and desire lacing Caleb’s voice were doing wonders at bringing Fjord back to the edge he’d been rapidly approaching before. He nodded, opening his mouth to speak but before he could he found Caleb’s middle and ring finger were already there, pressing down on his tongue. Fjord closed his mouth around Caleb’s fingers with a moan, drawing them in just a bit deeper and sucking.
Caleb groaned, the movement of his hips quick and sharp, keeping Fjord deep inside him with every thrust. “Fucking touch me. I want it, Fjord, I need it. Come in me. Please, please, please…”
His sentence devolved into a mess of begging and moans as Fjord’s hand found his cock. He was slick enough from the precum running down his length that it didn’t take long for the slide of Fjord’s hand on him to become easy. His fingers fucked Fjord’s mouth, he fucked himself on Fjord’s cock, and it only took a few strokes of his cock before Caleb was coming.
Fjord watched his eyes roll back, blue turning to pure white as his mouth fell open. Caleb was a man possessed as he rode out his orgasm, spattering Fjord’s chest with his release as he continued to move his hips. He clenched around Fjord and the sensation combined with the sight of Caleb coming apart so beautifully was enough to push Fjord over the edge and into his own orgasm.
It was the strongest he’d come in a long time, a wonderful wave of pleasure that he rode out through every pulse of his release inside Caleb. He had no idea how long he drifted in a blissful, blank space in his mind. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours. All Fjord knew was that by the time it was over and he was coming down from his high, Caleb had already slipped up off of his length and was looming over him.
His eyes were still impossibly bright as they bore down into him, holding Fjord’s gaze. His fingers were still in Fjord’s mouth, twitching just a bit against his tongue, and Caleb watched, never moving a muscle as Fjord tried to catch his breath. Fjord gave one last little moan. His eyes were growing heavy even as he tried to maintain eye contact with Caleb, everything in him begging to close his eyes and sleep. A long day at the docks had never left him this tired, but Fjord couldn’t even bring himself to question it. Maybe good sex just took a lot out of everybody.
Caleb withdrew his fingers, nodding as if he’d come to some conclusion he didn’t want to make Fjord privy to, and before Fjord could say a word he slipped off of Fjord’s lap and his bed.
Fjord was distantly aware of the sounds of Caleb moving around his apartment, of water running in his bathroom and footsteps as Caleb gathered his things. He didn’t realize how close to sleep he was until he was startled awake by a hand trailing over the mess that he had yet to clean up on his chest.
Caleb was standing over him, fully dressed. As he leaned in Fjord could smell the cologne that clung to his leather jacket, a warm musk that mixed with the smell of sex that still lingered in the air. He tilted his face up, wordlessly asking for a kiss he knew deep down would not be granted, but Caleb acquiesced halfway with a press of his lips to Fjord’s forehead.
“I’ll see you around,” he said, smiling down at Fjord.
And then Fjord blinked, and Caleb was gone.
He looked around his room, down at the mess Caleb had made of him, and wondered for a moment if everything had been a dream. The bone-deep exhaustion certainly felt real enough, as did the spend that was quickly, unpleasantly drying on his chest.
He didn’t know how long he slept exactly, but by the time he woke still laying on top of his covers, the light streaming into his room told him it was about noon. He laid dozing for another indeterminate amount of time, drifting back in and out of sleep and wasting most of his Saturday off. By the time late afternoon rolled around he finally found the strength in him to sit up and make his way to his bathroom.
Fjord turned on the light and started up his shower, and only then did he finally catch a glance at himself in his mirror.
His chest and neck were littered in marks. Reds and even a few light purples dotted his neck and collarbone, while faint trails of pink left by Caleb’s nails still ran down the length of his chest. He touched a particularly dark mark right under his jaw, felt the slightest twinge of pain as he did so and smiled at his reflection.
He could only hope he left Caleb feeling half as satisfied as he felt right now. Maybe then he stood a chance of ever seeing him again.
For the rest of the week, Caleb lingered in the back of Fjord’s mind. He couldn’t get the man out of his head, couldn’t quell the hope that flared in his chest that he might run into Caleb sometime soon. It felt like he had something to prove. He wanted to do more than lay back and let Caleb do all the work. He wanted to make Caleb feel good in return, wanted to prove that he was worth keeping around.
Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest thing in the world, getting so attached to the idea of a second time with what was clearly meant to be a one night stand. Still, Fjord couldn’t help himself.
He arrived at Lionett’s at his usual time that Friday, sitting down in his usual stool as Beau slid his usual order to him.
“You and that redhead were getting pretty close last time you were here,” Beau said with a conspiratorial grin. “Did you guys have a good night?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Fjord replied, trying his best to keep his glances toward the front door as subtle as possible. “But yes. We did. I did, at least.”
“Think he’ll come back?”
“That remains to be seen.”
“Best of luck, man.” Beau gave him a quick clap on the shoulder.
Fjord huffed out a laugh. “Thanks.”
He sat in silence for most of the night. Occasionally the door would open and Fjord would glance over, only to be met with disappointment every time. Every drink brought him further into doubt, until he stopped looking whenever anyone came in.
Who was he kidding? He’d never see Caleb again. It was just like his last hookup, except this time he hadn’t even been able to give the guy his number. Maybe it was better that way. At least then he could pretend that was the excuse that he never heard from Caleb again, rather than knowing for sure that Caleb could easily contact him and chose not to.
He was leaning over his drink, elbows on the bar, lost in thought. Distantly he heard the door to the bar open, heard someone call out a quick greeting to Beau, but he couldn’t bring himself to pay it any mind. Not until he felt a hand on his shoulder, until he heard a familiar voice.
“Hello, darling.” Fjord turned his head to see Caleb grinning at him. “Fancy running into you here.”
The hungry look had returned to his eyes, and Fjord fell into them without hesitation.