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piratekane · 15 days

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(a "lucy fills their home with things" kacy piece)

Lucy isn’t exaggerating. She travels light.

She brings a few bags of things—clothes, mostly; a few picture frames of faces that Kate recognizes; a sizable shoe collection that forces Kate to weed through her own and finally get rid of a few pairs she’s been holding onto for no reason.

What she doesn’t bring is trinkets.

There’s no novelty mugs, no knickknacks from Lucy’s college years, no potted plants, no paintings or little figurines that Kate was worrying wouldn’t fit on the shelves with her things.

She didn’t need to worry, though. Lucy makes four trips and then stands in the living room with her hands on her hips and a smile on her face. She declares herself moved in and immediately goes to the drawer filled with take out menus; it’s a pho night.

Kate stares in wonderment for a moment. Four trips and that’s it? Her apartment is empty? Not that it would take Kate long to pack up her apartment, really, but it would certainly be more boxes. She’d have to pack the planters, the mugs, the baskets of blankets, the candles, the small collection of books, the stack of games she keeps for the possibility of a game night. It would take Kai and Jesse’s help, at least. But Lucy did it all by herself, up and down the elevator like she was going on a weekend trip, not moving an entire life from one apartment to another.

“I just don’t need a lot,” she tells Kate that night, a sheet pooled around her waist as she lays back on her pillow. “Work, gym, and you. I wasn’t kidding.”

Kate doesn’t need a lot either, but she does have small things. Jane bought her an orchid in a yellow pot that thrives in the living room. She has a few things from Northwestern on a shelf nearby. A stack of books on a side table. Three mugs with silly slogans she got as a gag gift in D.C. that she used to hide in the back of the cupboard before she didn’t care if Lucy saw them. A novelty, oversized fork that hangs by the stove. Just a couple of things that give her apartment a version of a personality without overwhelming things.

Kate ran a finger over the swell of Lucy’s hip and they hadn’t talked about it again.

Kate doesn’t notice it at first, rushing in the morning because Lucy rolled across her just before her alarm went off and they got caught up in each other. She needs to start putting her foot down because she’s been nearly late to work too many times since Lucy moved in. But every time she thinks about telling Lucy they can’t, they have no time, Lucy tosses those curls over her shoulder and bats her eyes and smiles that slow smile Kate always gives in to.

So she misses it, sitting on the kitchen counter. She doesn’t see it until later, peeling her silk shirt off with a groan as the fabric sticks to her skin. It was a hot day and she spent too much of it running around. Her texts say that Lucy is finishing up a few notes but she’ll be home soon—home, Kate thinks, smile unconscious—and can Kate please make fettuccine Alfredo if they have the right ingredients? Kate opens and closes the refrigerator and cabinets and they have the basics but she’ll have to go back out to get cream. She fires off a text to have Lucy stop and pick up a few things and finds a wine glass, pouring herself a drink.

When she puts it down on the counter she sees it: a small, golden set of letters, interlocked seamlessly so she can barely tell where one ends and one begins. A K&L so small that she could fit in the center of her palm. It’s tucked next to the coffee maker, inconspicuous. Kate frowns, picking it up and turning it over. She didn’t bring this home, and logically it could have only been Lucy who did, but when did she put it on the counter? Was it here yesterday? Just how unobservant has she been lately?

She holds it for another moment before placing it gently down on the counter where it was. A fingerprint shines on the golden surface but she doesn’t wipe it away. Something about erasing it makes her chest ache with an unknown feelings. She tucks it back a little, tighter to the coffee maker, and makes a note to ask Lucy about it.

Lucy barrels through the front door 10 minutes and half a glass of wine later, already laughing as she launches into whatever Jesse did to Kai today and Kate forgets to ask Lucy where the K&L came from, too caught up in her whirlwind and the bruising kiss she pulls Kate into to remember it.

They don’t have fettuccine Alfredo but Lucy, standing behind her at the kitchen counter as Kate lazily stirs peppers and onions and Lucy presses even lazier kisses to her shoulder, doesn’t seem to mind.

Things start appearing.

Kate thinks she might be going crazy, honestly. Every time she looks around, more things pop up. She finds a bonsai tree on the coffee table one night when she gets home from work and Lucy is stretched across the couch, snoring. A new candle is burning on the counter when she gets back from her Saturday morning surfing. A bobble head pops up on Lucy’s nightstand that looks suspiciously like Jesse. Kate blinks and the tissue box in the living room has a strange Dallas Cowboys cover on it that she didn’t realize you could still buy. Then there’s a caricature of the two of them Kate doesn’t remember sitting for tucked onto the wall with all of their degrees. An NCIS mug finds its way into the cupboard and behind it is one with “Aloha Hawai’i” on it.

Kate looks around their apartment and wonders how Lucy keeps sneaking things in without her noticing. Or why she’s sneaking them in the first place.

But she doesn’t mind them. She does thinks the bobble head is creepy and she makes Lucy turn it to face the wall whenever Lucy’s hand snakes across the sheets to Kate’s thigh. But the rest of them, things her mother would probably turn her nose up at, don’t bother her. They’re cute, if a little kitschy. They bring a little life into their home, pops of color that Kate wouldn’t have thought to bring in herself.

Lucy doesn’t say anything about them either. She just keeps adding things: a wooden sign for the bathroom with a giant palm tree on it that takes Kate a week until she decides that no one sees their bathroom because no one visits; a three-candle holder sprayed a deep teal color that Kate thinks looks like the ocean before a storm: a new coffee pod container with a subtle rainbow on it; a small hand-painted pineapple.

Kate just lets these things pile up in their apartment and silently brings Ernie the bobble head after its beady eyes follow her around her bedroom in her towel.

“Okay,” Kate finally declares when she comes home to find a small clown figurine on the counter next to the wooden, painted bowl Lucy bought to house their oranges. “We need to talk.”

Lucy looks up from peeling one of those oranges and her brow furrows. “That’s never good.”

Kate frowns before it clears. “Oh, not like that.” She follows her words with her hands curling around Lucy’s waist and pressing a kiss to the top of Lucy’s head. She points to the clown. “About this.”

“You don’t like clowns.”

“I do not like clowns,” she confirms. “But I meant, where are all these things coming from?”

Lucy looks confused. “Where is what coming from?”

Kate sweeps an arm across their apartment and things Lucy has been bringing home. “All of this. The knickknacks. The trinkets. The… clown statue.”

Lucy brightens. “Oh, do you like them? Not the clown, obviously. I will get rid of that. Ernie is strangely afraid of clowns, too.”

“I didn’t say I was afraid. They’re just unnatural,” Kate insists. She shakes her head, getting back on track. “But where are they coming from?”

Lucy shrugs. “Everywhere. Whenever I see something I think you might like, I pick it up. This place was a little… boring. It needed some personality.”

Kate frowns. “It wasn’t boring. I just... wasn’t here a lot.” She leans one hip against the counter. “So you were just going to fill our place with ‘personality’ until we suffocate under screen-printed blankets and dog statues?”

“Well, you never said anything about them.”

“Neither did you.”

Lucy shrugs again. “I figured you’d say something if you didn’t like them.”

Kate softens. She tucks some of Lucy’s hair behind her ear. “I like them. Most of them,” she amends. “The sign in the bathroom is not my favorite. But the rest of them, I like,” she rushes to add. “I just didn’t think you were someone who liked those things. I mean, you literally brought nothing but clothes and shoes when you moved in.”

Lucy abandons the orange, turning until her stance mirrors Kate’s. She looks thoughtful as her gaze slides towards the open balcony doors. “My house growing up was… spartan. Not that it was empty, but we were doing the minimalist thing before it was cool. And so I never had these things. The knickknacks, you know?” She meets Kate’s eyes. “I told myself that when I had a home, I’d do the opposite. I’d get all the weird little things I saw, that I liked. And I’d buy them and fill a whole place with them.”

Something softens even more in Kate’s chest. It melts, warm and slow, through her body. She smiles softly, hands reaching for Lucy’s waist and curling in her shirt. “So you bought them now.”

“I have a home now,” Lucy says simply. “I didn’t before.”

Kate tugs Lucy forward a few inches until their hips press together. Her forehead drops to Lucy’s. “I love them. Well, except—“

“The clown and the bathroom sign,” Lucy finishes. Her lips twitch in a smile. “Noted.” She presses up on her toes, their lips brushing. “What about a different bathroom sign?”

“How about no bathroom sign?” Kate counters. She presses their lips together with more purpose. “And a no bobble head rule.”

Lucy laughs softly. “I’ll cancel my order, then. It’s a shame. You would have been a cute bobble head.” She unwinds from Kate’s grip, picks up an orange slice, and crosses the apartment, grinning.

“That’s not funny, Lucy.” Kate frowns when Lucy only smiles wider. “That was Jesse,” she accuses. “I knew it! Lucy, that was so creepy!”

Lucy laughs and pops an orange slice into her mouth. “I was going to fill the apartment with the team until you said something,” she admits. “But I guess they can go in Ernie’s lair.”

Kate rolls her eyes as Lucy disappears into the bedroom. She looks around the apartment—at the K&L by the coffee maker, the Cowboys tissue box, the half-filled “Aloha Hawai’i” mug, the coffee pod container, the collection of candles growing at the unused end of the counter. All little things Lucy picked up, picked out for them.

Trinkets, knickknacks, souvenirs, baubles—it would take Lucy more than four trips to move out now. And Kate agrees, it makes it look like a home in her with all these things, these novelties handpicked by the woman she loves.

Lucy hums from the bedroom and Kate smiles to herself before she catches sight of the clown figurine. Her smile twists into disgust and she picks it up, opening the trash can and dropping it in. Some of these things she can live without.

Lucy, not so much.

#kacy #ncis: hawai'i #kate whistler #lucy tara #possessed by this idea at 7am this morning #opened the notes app and looked up an hour later to find this was written #of course lucy is still a nomad but eventually she might get there #lucy tara when will you return from the war?#okay byeeeee

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galadae · 7 months

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blame the rain

rating: Explicit - minors do not interact pairing: Calantha Lenn/Hien Rijin words: 4.3k summary: Calantha reluctantly realizes she can no longer ignore her feelings, and ignores her own voice of reason instead. Hien wants to not think about his problems for 5 minutes. notes: Occurs right before 4.5, all spoilers are under the cut. It briefly references this prompt fic where they first kissed ao3 link

The Gates of the Moon frame their namesake, half hidden behind thick, rolling clouds. The breeze casts dark ripples on the One River. Night birds call across the heavy air of the enclave. Trees sway above fishing boats, moored for the night. Thunder rolls in the distance.

An apt unrest to match her thoughts. Calantha paces near the pagoda of the One Garden, looking out towards the ferry. She should go inside, with how this weather is turning. Rain is imminent. But the room she's spent the last few weeks in now feels like a stuffy trap.

She takes a deep breath, filling her lungs with the smell of the trees. Tomorrow they depart for Ala Mhigo. Half the scions, and now Alphinaud, lie in some strange limbo. Alisae was by his side tonight, as she had been many nights since his return. She'd been asleep when Calantha last checked. That was one small mercy, at least.

She exhales. It does nothing to calm her. She’ll handle whatever comes, as she always does. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’m so tired.

She plops down on a stool facing the river, and pulls a knee up to her chest. Thunder rumbles again, closer this time. The wind picks up, casting dark ripples on the surface of the water. She rubs her arms. Should’ve brought a jacket.

The Scions’ absence has jarred her more than any recent loss. If it can be called that. Not dead, but not here. Thancred’s wit and steady friendship. Urianger’s quiet, eclectic logic. Y’shtola’s curiosity and biting humor. And Alphinaud’s hope and resolve, naive though they could be–Calantha worries for him most. Without them it’s as if she’s unmoored, nothing but a lone adventurer again. She despises the feeling.

I won't let them die. We have time. We'll figure something out. Worrying about it solves nothing. The words echo, hollow, in her mind.

The roiling clouds and thunder do little to soothe the surreal loneliness around her. I wish the sun would hurry up and rise so I can stop brooding. She snorts at the thought. Better to get up and move. A distraction would be welcome.

Calantha strides down the street past darkened windows and pale lanterns. It’s one or two bells after midnight. All should be asleep, except perhaps the guards at their posts. The walls dull the wind, giving her a short relief from the night chill.

She glances in the direction of the Kienkan. She hopes Hien at least is faring better than she is tonight.

Her thoughts wander towards him often these days, despite her own best judgment. She feels pulled to him, and he to her, judging by the time he kissed her. And she’d gone and returned the favor. Calantha sighs. She doesn’t have time for this. Not now. But it’s hard to ignore the presence of something between them. Something beyond the comfortable bonds of friendship. Sometimes it’s a touch on the arm, or a glance that lingers too long, or a smile laced with more affection than a smile has any right to. Let alone the kiss— It becomes more difficult every moment she spends with him.

She reaches the edge of the docks and stops.

This can never be more than what it is now , she thinks. I'm not ready for that. Terrible time to have feelings.

But what is it, now? In truth they hadn’t spoken of the kiss. With all the events that followed their trip to the Azim Steppe, she hadn't asked. And neither had he. Perhaps it was the same for him, engrossed in restoring the enclave and bringing Doma back from the ashes, and now the task of defense barriers and sending allies to Ala Mhigo. What time had he for such things?

But my heart feels lighter around him. He's like fresh air. Unexpected. The sun breaking through clouds.

Her heart flutters as she thinks of his laugh, his smile, the way his eyes flash when excitement or anger takes them. She catches herself smiling.

“Ugh. Gods…” she groans, scowling. This is ridiculous. I cannot keep thinking about him like this. At least I’m no longer worrying about the Scions–

“Ah, Calantha! I didn't expect to see you here,” Hien calls from behind her.

Her heart lurches. She whirls to face him. How had she not heard him approach? Her cheeks burn. She’s grateful her blush isn’t visible in the low light.

“You have a face to match the coming storm,” he says with a laugh. “What’s made your mood so foul?”

She rubs her face with her hand. “Nothing, really. Thoughts got away from me, that’s all.”

He steps up next to her. “Would you like help collecting them?”

She takes a deep breath to regain her composure and seats herself on one of the crates clustered around a lamppost. “They’re best left scattered,” she sighs. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Then let us leave them be.” He looks off into the distance, and she sees he’s wearing none of his armor. The usual absent sleeve is pulled over his shoulder.

She squints at him. “Why are you here? It’s about to rain.” She can’t help the hint of annoyance in her voice. He could have tried not to startle her.

“Sleep eludes me,” he replies, almost flippantly. “I’ve been walking about, hoping that will tire me, but to no end. Besides, I would ask the same of you.” He raises an eyebrow, with his familiar smirk. “Unless you sulk by the docks every night, and I was simply unaware?”

“Sulk?” Calantha can’t keep the ghost of a smile from her lips, despite herself. The relief of no longer having to be alone with her thoughts outweighs her embarrassment. “No, the sulking is just for tonight.”

He motions to the space next to her. “May I sit?”

“Don't let me stop you.” Calantha returns her gaze to the river as he settles beside her. His knee brushes her thigh for a moment. She feels almost disappointed when he moves it away.

“May I ask what thoughts trouble you?” he says. He stares out at the water before glancing back at her.

She doesn’t feel like elaborating on her worries. He knows of the Scions already. She shrugs. “Problems I can't solve.”

He nods. “I know the feeling well.”

Lightning illuminates the clouds, malms away, followed by thunder a moment later. Calantha drums her fingers against her knee. She now has a reason to stay outside, despite the weather.

Hien stares across the river towards the ruins of the castle. He notices her gaze and gives her a small smile, but it falls from his face as he looks away.

She clears her throat. "What about your thoughts?” She asks. “Would you like them collected, or thrown to the wind?”

He chuckles. “Perhaps tossed into the Ruby Sea and forgotten.” His voice betrays a weariness she hasn’t seen from him in awhile. “As if either of us have that luxury.”

She wonders what worries plague his thoughts; whether the same restless loneliness she felt moments ago haunts him. How long he's spent trying to sleep.

Before she can stop herself, she covers his hand with hers. In solidarity, or sympathy, or a fool's affection, she doesn't know which.

“We both have a great deal to think about,” she says, looking out across the water. She hopes her voice doesn't betray the way her heart hammers. “An unfortunate thing to have in common.”

He stares at her hand for a moment.

“Perhaps not that unfortunate, if this is the result.” He takes it. His smile brightens. She feels that familiar spark of affection, drawing her to him. I should let go of his hand, before this goes too far.

She doesn’t.

“If you’re worried about Ala Mhigo, the negotiations – Whatever happens, we’ll get through it. We’ll have everyone there together.”

She looks down at their hands, both calloused. She twines their fingers together. “Lost sleep will save no one in the end.”

“Then we should try to forget our cares and rest, I suppose.” He squeezes her hand. “Although I find myself not yet ready to return to bed.”

“It’s the same for me,” she says. She stares at the ground. She hates how her heart quivers at this small touch, but she doesn't want to leave. Maybe this will be enough to chase the worries away.

More lightning flashes in the distance, followed by thunder, rolling ever closer. They watch as the clouds sweep over the moon. The wind whips into their hair. Hien puts his other hand over both of theirs, and leans his head against her shoulder. She savors the warmth of his palm. Every moment the wind blows brings the rain nearer, and their time of solace closer to an end. The uncertainty of whatever the morning will bring looms with the storm.

They'll be swept up in their duties again. It may be awhile before they have another moment to themselves. She doesn't want it to end, yet.

Before she can think better of it, she speaks. “Hien?” She murmurs his name, afraid of what she will ask him. Truly a terrible idea, Calantha. “Would it help you forget your troubles if–if I kissed you?”

He laughs softly, a short breath between his teeth. “Would it help you?”

Thunder rolls again, but she pays it no mind. His face is close, too close, breath warm on her cheek. Calantha cups his face and gives her answer on his lips.

She starts with a gentle brush of their lips, and lets the next kisses linger longer. Her hand wanders up into his hair. Her heartbeat quickens as she feels his hands slip to her waist, pulling her closer.

He leans into her. His breath is hot against her mouth. The eager weight of his body almost tilts her off balance. She shifts to keep herself upright and throws an arm around his shoulders. She can hear the thunder and feel the droplets begin to fall around her.

Calantha finds she doesn’t care.

Hien pulls away after a moment, breathless from the kiss. He leans his forehead against her cheek. The warmth she feels now keeps her close to him, even as the rain falls heavier. She can feel the water seeping into her shirt, running through her hair.

“I suppose our time here is up,” she says, her voice low. “We should go if we don't want to catch a cold in the morning.”

The wind gusts. She shields her face from the rain drops thrown in her face as she stands.

“Calantha, wait.”

Hien reaches for her hand. "If you'd like company –That is, if the conversation would ease your mind. You are welcome to stay with me.”

She feels her cheeks grow hot again. “Hien…Don't let me keep you awake on my account.”

“You aren't.” He steps closer. “I would rather be awake with you than alone.”

She stares at him. If she goes with him, she knows she’ll kiss him again. Probably best not to. I need to sleep.

As if she’d sleep any better now than before. She takes his hand. Why should she refuse the company she wants, when he offers it freely?

“I'll stay,” she murmurs. “At least until the rain stops. Now let's hurry.”

They rush back to the Kienkan, thoroughly soaked by the time they step into the darkened doorway. They're met by the nods and quizzical looks of a few guards. They say nothing until Hien slides the door of his room shut behind them.

Hien lights a lantern, painting the walls with a low, warm glow. His room is simple, with a mattress in the corner, a few flooring mats, a low table pushed against the wall, stacked with papers, maps, and scrolls. Rain hammers the roof above. They leave their wet shoes by the door.

Hien smiles at her, eyes bright. “Please sit, if you wish,” he says, motioning to the mattress. “I have little in the way of cushions at the moment, but it will be softer than the floor.”

She follows him to the back of the room.

“Here. If you are cold.” He hands her a worn blanket.

She stares at it, clutching it gingerly in one hand. “But then your blanket will be wet too?" she asks. “And the mattress. I’m not sitting on your bed like this. I’m soaked.”

Hien runs his hand through his hair and looks behind him. “I suppose if you need it, I have a spare shirt...”

Calantha drops the blanket and takes his hand. It's hard to keep from smiling at his sudden awkwardness. He seems so reserved compared to when he first dared to kiss her. “I'll dry out soon enough,” she says. “As long as you don't mind me dripping a little on the floor.”

He looks up at her. “I am simply glad you're here. Drip all you'd like.” He squeezes her hand.

His smile, the giddiness from their earlier kisses and the run in the rain has lifted her spirits. She steps closer, until their toes are almost touching.

“Hien–I don't know what I'd have done without you tonight.”

“Stand on the docks, damp and alone?” He smirks at her.

“Maybe,” she scoffs. “But it might have been the same for you if I hadn't been there, and you know it.”

“Well. I must thank you for rescuing me.” He leans up to kiss her cheek.

A gentle, persistent warmth grows in her chest, beyond the giddy blushes from before. She wraps her arms around his shoulders. Despite their damp clothing, she can feel his body heat. It comforts her. Whatever this is, she has no desire to overthink it. They understand each other, and enjoy each other's company. In this moment, it's enough.

Or it would be, if she could stop thinking about kissing him again. Wishing he’d pull her back into a tight embrace. Wondering what his hands would feel like on the rest of her skin.

His eyes shine even in the low light of the lantern. Why are you here? You should be in your own bed. Trying to sleep. The tiny voice of logic in her mind whines.

She shuts it out and brushes a kiss to his lips. Hien's sigh against her cheek sends what little of her cares remain to the back of her mind. He returns each of her kisses, reaching up to hold the back of her neck, breath mingling with hers. He slides his other hand around her hip. Her heartbeat quickens at his touch. She tilts her head, deepening the kiss.

“There are other ways to forget our troubles,” she whispers, as he presses his forehead against her cheek. “If you should want them.”

He’s breathless from the kiss. “I want to be with you,” he murmurs against her neck. “If that is also your wish.”

“It is.” She kisses his temple and brushes wet hair from his face. “Besides, we won’t need to worry about wet clothes if we take them off.”

He laughs as he leans into her touch. “You have a point.”

Even without his armor, his clothes are full of bright cords and ties. The ribbons in his hair, on his trousers, his belt and sash. All she can think of is loosening them. In truth, she's thought of it many times since the first moment they kissed. She hasn't dared to let herself admit it. She touches the maroon silk of his sash. "May I?"

He kisses her again, hands around her waist. “Please.”

She grins, heart racing, and gets to work. She leaves him with a kiss for each part she loosens. Cords slip from her fingers to the floor. Without his armor she makes short work of them. His robe falls open. She slides his sleeves from his shoulders, leaving his chest bare.

Calantha has only a moment to admire him before he steps closer. His fingers touch the hollow of her throat, sliding to the bottom of her neckline, just below her breasts. He tugs at the seam, gently, pulling her closer, and presses another kiss on her jaw. His fingers are warm on her damp skin. A pleasant shiver rolls down her spine.

She unwraps the sash holding her shirt in place. He peels the wet garment from her shoulders with a breathless chuckle, and holds her gaze for a moment before letting his hand trace down to her navel. He presses his hand against her stomach, sliding his fingers under her belt, and leaves another kiss to her neck. A soft gasp leaves her lips unbidden.

They sink onto the mattress. Hien's clothes are now a pool of bright, damp fabric and fur on the floor around them. His fingers fumble with the buttons on her own trousers. As he does, she can't help but stare at the muscles and pale scars along his torso. She touches his stomach, wondering how he got them, admiring the trail of dark hair down from his navel.

“I’ll need to hear about these,” she says. He laughs. “After,” he says. He bends over her and kisses her neck. His skin against hers, warm, soft over muscle, fans the flames of her want. The heat in her chest becomes a fire in her stomach, a hunger inside her. Another draw to him that she can’t escape. Not that she wants to.

She hasn't had anyone touch her like this in years. She knows it’s the same for him. She can feel a firmness against her thigh as he presses himself close to her. He cups her breast and slides his fingers beneath the band of her bra.

Calantha leans her head back into the pillow as he kisses down her sternum. Two cords remain. She tugs at the one in his hair.

He tilts his head, letting her slip the ribbon from his hair. It falls in a dark curtain around his shoulders, a mess from the rain. She slides her hand into it, pulling his face closer.

It’s not long before the rest of their clothes join the scattered pile around them.

The room feels chilly on her damp skin, but she only knows the growing flames between them. His hand traces the scars on her ribs and stomach. One from Zenos, one from the Heavens Ward. She wants to tell him everything, if he’ll hear her. Later . He brushes his thumb across her nipple, drawing a sigh from her mouth. Definitely later.

Calantha bites her lip as he caresses her breast. The urgency of her desire grows with each touch. She whispers in his ear. “Will you touch me?” A breathless plea against his cheek as she wraps her leg around him.

Hien gives her an eager kiss and settles an arm behind her head. Her heart races as he trails a path with his finger down her stomach, below her navel, into the curls between her thighs. He kisses her neck as he caresses her folds, not daring to dip inside her. Taunting her with the thought of sweetness. She grunts in frustration. “Hien–”

Before she can say more his fingers find her clit. She arches her hips into him with a whimper. He sets a gentle, steady rhythm and she leans her head back, savoring his touch.

Hien watches her face, attentive to her expression. He strokes her, stoking her need, and she can’t help the breathless sighs that spring from her mouth. His own face is flushed as he slips his fingers deeper into her slick. She can feel him, hard against her leg. She runs her hand onto his hair, writhing her hips against his hand.

He leaves hot, open mouthed kisses on her neck, her collarbone, her breasts. Each one fans the flames of her desire more than the last. His tongue finds her nipple, toying with her bar piercing. She moans. Her need for him courses through her body, bringing out a feverish hunger she hasn't felt in years.

It's been so long since she's had this kind of touch from another.

She wants him closer. She needs all of him. More than his hands. Calantha can barely think. “Hien, I–I–” She touches his cock, stroking the length of it with a finger. He gives a breathless laugh. “What is it?”

She places a hand on his chest. “I need more of you,” she says. She pushes him gently to the side and props herself up on her elbow. He raises an eyebrow in question. “On your back?” she asks. His eyes widen briefly and he nods, eager, drinking in the sight of her as she straddles his waist.

Calantha leans over to kiss him. He sighs into her mouth, running a hand over each thigh.

She wastes no time guiding him into her. Her breath catches as she slides fully onto his cock, her swollen cunt flush around him. She braces her hands on his chest and grins down at him. “How's this?”

Hien draws a shaky breath. He looks up at her with half a crooked half smile, cheeks burning. “Take care, or this will be over all too quickly.”

Calantha smirks. “Don't worry.” She leans down to whisper in his ear. “We have the rest of the night.”

His laugh turns to a groan as she rolls her hips. Hien grips her waist. The feel of him inside her, filling her, makes her heart race. His face is flushed, his gaze moving between her face, the dance of her hips and the bounce of her breasts above him.

Their shared panting breaths mingle with the rhythm of the rain on the roof. His skin against hers, his touch on her waist bring her closer to her peak, pulling her higher, making her heart race faster. Hot, delicious pressure builds between her thighs. She loses herself to chasing it. Every nerve is on fire with anticipation and every sensation heightened. Hien's hands are tight on her hips. He slides his hand up the length of her torso to her breast and clutches her other hip against him.

She comes undone at the touch. Sweet, consuming waves of pleasure course through her, drawing a string of breathless cries from her throat. Her back arches and her eyes flutter shut as she rides out her orgasm.

A stray thought passes her mind, hoping no one hears her through the wall. She bites her lip to hush herself and looks down to see Hien's face locked in desperation. His hands clutch her hips like a vice, holding her flush against him, and soon he pants half-syllables of her name as his expression melts into ecstasy.

Calantha collapses over him. His breath is hot on her neck. He rests his hands on her thighs with a shaky laugh.

“You held on admirably,” she says, leaning her face against his. She kisses his temple.

He chuckles. “I had no choice. Imagine if I brought you here and failed to hold my own.”

Calantha rolls off of him, resting beside him on the mattress. “I thought you said we'd fill our time with conversation when you asked me to join you.”

“We are talking, are we not?” He grins. “Is this not a conversation?”

“We're also naked. And we've done very little talking so far.”

“Who is to say I didn't mean this as well,” he says. “I will admit, it wasn't far from my mind.”

She kisses his lips. They part for a brief moment to clean themselves. When they return to the mattress Calantha realizes she can no longer hear the rain on the roof. Hien rests his hands behind his head. The lantern flickers, casting shadows across their faces.

Calantha settles next to him. “I do hope you've forgotten your problems,” she says. “Otherwise I've done a poor job.”

“They are quite forgotten, for the moment,” he says. He wraps an arm around her shoulders. “And yours? If not, we can always try again. We do have all night. You said so yourself.”

She laughs at the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “I'll let you know if they come back to haunt me. We should both get some sleep.”

"You're right,” he says. He brushes a strand of damp hair behind her ear. His green eyes are soft, full of a tenderness that takes her off guard. His smile is the warmest she's ever seen from him. She tries to remember a joke, a strange story, something she can say to keep from thinking too much of it. He presses a kiss to her forehead and she feels the remnants of stubborn cold in her heart begin to melt.

Sun through the clouds.

She can't bring herself to be angry at the thought.

Calantha rests her head on his shoulder. I should go, she thinks. I never intended for this to happen. But in the soft light of the lantern, the warm afterglow and the comfort of his arms, returning to the solitude of her own bed is unthinkable. "Hien?”

“Hmm?” His fingers trace a slow pattern on her side. Another unexpected tenderness. It soothes her, draws her in closer. She curls into him, sliding her arm around his waist. She can't possibly tear herself away now.

“I know I said I'd stay until the rain stopped. And it has. But–I don't feel like returning to my own bed.”

His smile grows wider, somehow. “Then stay with me.”

He wraps his other arm over her, holding her against him. The gentle thump of his heartbeat soothes her, calming any last reservations in her mind. Her limbs feel leaden, drowsy. She closes her eyes.

Whatever happens in the morning, he's willing to share this solace with her. And gods, she will let herself have it.

#ffxiv #hannah words #oc: calantha lenn #calantha/hien #this took me a month off and on and i'm :playdead: but i got it done #also. i have not actually completed a spicy fic between two people before. be proud of me (and please be gentle lol)#okay byeeeee

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