#so anyways this is obviously thanks to molly for a) writing the fic and b) helping me smooth out the creases in this mb | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

the sex party: i

(r18+)

shinsou hitoshi x reader

ao3

part 1 (you’re here!) || part 2

word count: ~7.1k

You and Hitoshi definitely have a thing for each other, but who would've thought that a 'sex party' would produce a confession?

warnings:

COLLEGE AU! characters are explicitly aged up to college students as early 20 year olds!

not really a sex party, mutual pining, friends to lovers, confessions, reader is canonically bi, brief momo x reader, light dom/sub, spanking, references to drug use, smoking (cigarettes, salem trademarked fic thing), drinking, and smut

there is a scene where there is attempted sexual assault. it is marked with ***** before and after.

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this.... this piece is a monster. i’ve been wrestling with it for a month and now its here for y’all. the second part is already out ;^)) thank you to @keiqos for being an absolute king and beta reader this monster. enjoy y’all!!

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You never imagined that you would be where you were. It was under weird circumstances, but god if you weren’t going to try and enjoy it.

The party you found yourself attending was lit with flashing lights and rainbow projections. There were two different DJs on various floors of the suburban mansion. They bumped out remixed club music, making the walls hum and thrum and bodies writhe and sweat. One of the kitchen counters was loaded with bottles and bottles of hard liquor and mixers.

You were quickly making a third mixie. Just a vodka soda, boringly. There were certainly more fun options, but you weren’t exactly sure how to feel about this party just yet. You were having trouble discerning whether this was a ‘gin and tonic millennial’ party or a ‘jungle juice in an old cooler’ party.

Denki and Jiro had convinced nearly two car-fulls of your friends to roll up. It sounded so fun, so wild!

“Yo! Our friends from the EDM scene are throwing a SEX party! You all should come! It’s at a mansion across town!”

Their ‘friends’ were two middle-aged, white hippies who did a lot of molly for their age.

Nonetheless, you found yourself in a massive, odd house and managed to lose your friends fairly quickly (and accidentally). All the rooms stayed dimly lit and loud. You could hardly keep track of your own two feet.

Someone pressed you into the counter, a hand grazing against your barely covered ass.

You whipped around, watching as a couple walked away, one of them giving incredibly loud bedroom eyes.

Oh yeah, the ‘sex party’ part.

It wasn’t a kink party, or really a sex party at all. Sex was encouraged and provided for, but not necessary. The mansion’s massive attic was where most of the sex acts were happening with its five beds, three bondage rigs, a wall of toys of all types, condoms, lube, whippits, and even Viagra in decorative bowls. You had yet to venture up, but Denki had already spammed the group chat about it.

(It had been the first place he went upon arriving.)

You took your drink down the stairs (the place had three fucking basements) and turned into a small hallway that led outside.

It was cold, but your somewhat drunk body hardly minded. The sobering bite of wind gave a nice reprieve from the thrumming heat inside.

You immediately spotted Hitoshi leaning on a retaining wall, half a cigarette hanging from his lips. His face lit up, when he saw you, waving you over.

You smiled back at him, glad to find a friend and best of all Hitoshi.

You two were quite close.

In addition to both being sociology majors and having a lot of overlap when it came to classes, you’d known each other since freshman year and only grew closer with time. You’d spent many nights at his house off-campus, sipping cup after cup of black coffee in the midst of a paper writing and studying. You also definitely didn’t ever have close calls of affection though, no.

No.

Never.

You and Hitoshi were obviously just friends.

...

“Wild party, huh?” Hitoshi quirked an eyebrow, nodding to the house. He offered you a cigarette that you took greedily.

You placed it between your lips, Hitoshi ever so casually leaning forward to light it with his signature clipper. He’d nabbed it off some ‘milf’ at the casino which he and Denki had gone to for bingo ‘for the meme’ freshmen year.

You let out a puff, “Thank you! And yes, very wild. I’m on drink three and I still feel overwhelmed.”

Hitoshi sipped his own, nodding in agreement, “I know Jiro and Denki know some wild people from the scene, but this seems over the top.”

“It is kind of fun? But definitely an ‘I need to be a little more fucked up’ kind of fun,” You remarked.

You set down your cigarette on the cement wall, attempting to boost yourself up onto it. You nearly had it, except you really didn’t and slipped back down. You anxiously turned around, checking your dress over for any sort of tears.

Hitoshi set down his own cigarette, standing in front of you. You looked up at him and felt very small and very horny all of a sudden. It certainly wasn’t an abnormal set of feelings, given how the two of you teased each other relentlessly.

“Need some help there?” He chuckled at your struggle as you frowned up at him.

“If you insist.” You expected him to offer a hand to stabilize yourself on but no, Hitoshi’s big hands were suddenly grabbing at your waist, lifting you on the walls with little effort.

You swore you almost felt him squeeze you before letting go.

“You’re welcome,” Hitoshi just smirked as he returned to his spot, taking a deep drag to look at you through lowered lids.

You glared, but in good fun.

At that moment, a few other of your friends poured from the door to the patio. They were all shouting, jarring and drunk, and very happy to see the two of you.

You unconsciously shifted a bit closer to Hitoshi on the wall, bare leg just barely touching his shoulder.

You didn’t notice it, but Hitoshi definitely leaned into you too.

“(Y/N)! Hitoshi!” Momo addressed you firmly as Denki and Hanta snickered behind her. “You both are smarter than to smoke, aren’t you?”

“Nope,” You popped the word from your mouth to take another drag.

“We’re drunk, give it a rest,” Hitoshi waved his hand dismissively. You were both her friends, but she did have a pole up her ass sometimes.

Almost to emphasize the point, Jiro withdrew her own pack and started offering to other people.

As the ever-important smoking ritual continued, you couldn’t help but shiver from the now-painful gusts of wind. You abruptly hopped off of the wall, only wobbling a little on your heels as you hit the ground. Hitoshi moved to steady you, a firm hand on your shoulder.

(God, you wanted to melt into him.)

See, Hitoshi had been smart enough to wear a warm outfit. A pair of black jeans, a form-fitting, well-cut sweater, and a jacket which was slung over his arm.

He offered it to you, eyebrow raised, “If you’re cold, you’re welcome to this. I’m gonna stash it when I get inside anyways.”

You shook your head, pushing back on his arm, feeling the hard muscle beneath. You almost shivered. “No, no it’s okay. I’m gonna head back in.”

“Mind if I tag along then?” Hitoshi asked, eyes scanning around you. He seemed well aware that there were some creeps at this party.

Most of the time, you wouldn’t feel great about needing some tall, beefy dude to casually stand around as a deterrent. But, honestly? You appreciated it immensely.

“Right this way, smokestack,” You just had to give him shit, it was part of your cute dynamic right?

(It made the incessant flirting easier to hide.)

...

You couldn’t help but continually notice how Hitoshi had bulked up. He had been hitting the gym a lot and working on himself physically.

God, did it show.

His body had been a bit lanky and wiry before, but he’d filled out so well. With his cute sweater on, you could see how the fabric stretched tight around his biceps and his chest. You couldn’t look at his forearms in any setting or risk drooling all over yourself.

Not that you would mind drooling for Hitoshi, but you’d prefer it to be in a different context.

(But, you’d never admit that.)

The two of you wordlessly winded through the house, finding a somewhat less feral living room in one of the basements to relax in. Most everyone occupying the space was just mingling, save for a few couples making out. It seemed manageable. You settled for a spot on the carpet against a wall.

Hitoshi raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

“I feel way safer sitting on a floor than a couch here,” You couldn’t help smiling when you saw him snuff out his own amusement.

You both watched as a couple was grinding and audibly moaning on one of the aforementioned couches. Hitoshi relented, “Point taken.”

He slid down the wall next to you, shoulder to shoulder, drinks in hand.

You both sat in silence for a minute, just taking the sounds and sights of the party. People-watching could have been an olympic sport at this shindig.

“Hey,” Hitoshi broke the mild tension, tapping your upper thigh over your dress. “I’m not saying this to be a creep, really, I promise. But, I really like your dress.”

You turned your body slightly, towards him. Oh, now you needed to give him shit— “Oh, how complementary. Not creepy at all. Just my very sweet, male friend telling me how I look pretty in my party dress.”

Hitoshi leaned closer to you, mirroring you by lying half on his side. His breath and heat curled over your face and neck, “Oh, (Y/N), now you’re putting words in my mouth. I said that I like your dress. Because it’s one of Mei’s designs, right?”

You looked down, heat filling your cheeks.

Fuck your drunk mouth.

“Though,” Oh, Hitoshi was closer. He had leaned to your ear, steadying a hand on your shoulder. “I do think you’re pretty in this dress. I’d use a different word instead of pretty though.”

“Like?”

“Mmmm, gorgeous,” He hummed too casually. “As strong of a word as I can use without being a creep, right?”

“‘Toshi,” You groan, swatting his hand away. “You’re a bastard, you know that?”

He just beamed at you, “I’ve been told.”

Hitoshi drew back and met your eyes.

Once more, you mirrored each other. Both of you bore comically dilated pupils, wet lips, flushed faces and slight tremors in your hands.

“You know, I think I referred to you as ‘sweet’ too...” You raised an eyebrow at him. You couldn’t help the way your gaze flickered down to his lips. It flitted back up, “But, that’s nothing, right?”

Hitoshi bit his lip, taking a big breath.

Suddenly, he was standing up.

“Hey, wait—” You stammered, standing as well. “I’m sorry, that was a lot. I only meant to tease.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Hitoshi put his hands in front of himself, creating distance between the two of you. “Same. You know I can’t help giving you trouble, (Y/N).”

Ouch.

You cracked a smile, rubbing your arms, “Of course, yeah. Silly friend shit.”

Hitoshi was quick to redirect, pointing a thumb out of the room, “I’ve gotta hang this somewhere. See you in a bit, or you can come with me if you like?”

“Nah, I’ll wander,” You patted his shoulder, waltzing off your churning gut by cutting in front of him. “Take it easy, smokestack.”

You couldn’t hear if he replied.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

You did, in fact, wander. With meandering feet, you moved through room after room. You poured yourself another drink, but it’s not nearly as strong. Your run-in with Hitoshi soured your mood. While not fully ruined, you were definitely feeling weirder than you wanted to be.

Hitoshi and you obviously had energy, yeah. But the most either of you had acted on it was ‘seemingly meaningless’ flirting. It was always followed up with a ‘no homo’ or ‘aha, got ‘ya!’, yet it always felt real in the moment. You weren’t a dumbass. You had caught Hitoshi eyeing you a few (read: many) different times. There were so many close calls and contacts between the two of you.

There was one time while you were making a box of mac and cheese in Hitoshi’s kitchen circa 2 AM. You had borrowed one of his shirts and a pair of joggers to sleep in, a common act of yours. He walked past you for a glass of water, keeping the cup under the tap until it ran over just to look you up and down.

His gaze wasn’t prying or predatory, not even close. You trusted Hitoshi with your life and you knew that he wouldn’t ever breach boundaries like that. Rather, he regarded you in a way that made him lose time, something soft and gooey in his eyes. That time, it wasn’t lustful attention. It just felt-

(Like the way lovers look at one and other, enamored.)

Another time was during one of his performances. The house venue had been dimly lit and musty as fuck, but that didn’t distract Hitoshi. As Jiro’s vocals shook the basement, you met eyes with Hitoshi as he slammed on guitar. His gaze always returned to you throughout the whole set. When you had teased him about it, he claimed that looking at you helped keep his stage fright in check.

The reasoning didn’t calm the butterflies in your stomach.

There was another particularly telling occurrence where you had fallen asleep on Hitoshi’s floor in the middle of working on your final paper for your theory class the semester prior. He returned from his smoke break to find you curled up under the first piece of cloth you could find (which, in that case, was one of his hoodies). You weren’t fully asleep, and you certainly weren’t when Hitoshi hefted you into his arms, laying you so gently down on his bed and covering you with a throw blanket.

Oh, god, the sweetness, like something you’d never known when you felt his hand on your face, smoothing over your cheekbones, your nose, and then your lips. His gentle voice, deep with the late-night, “You work too hard, you know.”

He nestled next on the floor next to the bed, leaving you to sleep undisturbed the rest of the night.

There were, of course, many more instances of Hitoshi’s way-too-kind kindness, and a pile of your own moments as well.

It was all damning, but relatively ignored. Your friendship was more important than any stupid feelings the two of you had right? You refused to acknowledge your own feelings beyond semi-sexual remarks, jabs, and jests. You couldn’t jeopardize your friendship, right?

...

You eventually found yourself at the foot of the stairs that led to the attic. Even from the landing, you could hear various rhythmic slaps, moans, and laughter.

You ascended the stairs and took in the sight greeting you.

There were various bondage rigs that were free-standing, all occupied at the moment you entered. Loops for ropes and chains to be tied to drilled into the ceiling. Flogs, whips, canes, and other implements hung heavy on one of the walls.

The room was lit dimly, yet nothing seemed obscured. A few rainbow lights illuminated the sweaty bodies about the room. Not everyone was having full-on sex. Most people were actually clothed. A lot of folks it seemed were just there spectating.

Speaking of most people, your party peers were all lounging on the beds. Sans, Hitoshi, of course, standing and laughing with Kaminari.

The lot saw you enter and flagged you down. You walked past a heavily-tattooed man getting pegged by a woman in a tutu and a crowd of costumed partygoers doing whippits which were being handed out by a man in an elaborate steampunk top hat. A cute girl with silver hair was strung up in a nearby rig, moaning as a leather-clad man fingerfucked her.

You stood next to Hitoshi, bumping into his arm with your own, “Didn’t take you for a voyeur.”

He snorted, joshing you back, “I have my moments.”

“I didn’t take you for a prude, (Y/N)!” Denki snickered, bringing attention to you. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost when you walked in here.”

“Denki, please,” You rolled your eyes. “I walked into a room made for very wild sex acts. That’s a very different expression than the one you’re describing.”

That made him snort and fall back onto the bed, along with Hanta and Mina.

(How high were they? That wasn’t even a good joke.)

Hitoshi chuckled himself, something low and lumbering.

(Don’t think about how hot that is.)

“This makes me think back to that night, in sophomore year,” Hanta spoke as he sat up. “You know, kink night.”

“Oh, yeah! I forget about that,” Denki turned towards you and Hitoshi and raised his eyebrows.

You flushed.

Momo, innocently, asked, “Kink night?”

Hitoshi cleared his throat, looking anywhere but you.

“Oh yeah!” Mina piped up, hugging Momo’s shoulders from behind. Jiro was sitting in Momo’s lap, head on her tits. “We made a drinking game of exposing our weird sex acts and kinks to each other.”

You laughed uncomfortably at the memory, avoiding the very embarrassing and horny part that involved you, “That was the day that we found Mineta was into scat.”

“Oh wow,” Jiro gawked. “That was before Mineta got canceled?”

“Oh, yeah. He got wasted and ran off after that. Thank god.” Denki snickered. “You know what else happened that night?”

“Denki, please, stop talking.” It was Hitoshi placing a firm hand on the other’s shoulder.

Denki just looked at the two of you like he was some old god of mischievous, turning back to the girls, “That’s when we all found out about Hitoshi and (Y/N)’s suuuuuuuuuper compatible kinks. Like, scary compatible.”

“They got sooooo awkward about it too!” Mina snickered, looking at your and Hitoshi with matchmaker in her eyes.

You would kick her ass for it later. In that moment, you tried to keep a somewhat neutral expression as you recalled the night in question.

Sure, it was a year or two back and you and Hitoshi weren’t half as close back then.

The lot of you had been sitting on the floor of Denki and Hitoshi’s dorm, passing around a bottle of cheap, flavored vodka in a fucked up, horny game of truth or dare.

...

“You’re next (Y/N)!” Mina passed the bottle to you and fell back against the carpet. You swallowed thickly, swishing the content liquor inside. “Dare or sex act?”

The rules of the game were simple. Choosing ‘dare’ meant that someone else chose a sexually-charged dare for you and ‘sex act’ meant exposing either a kink or a sex act you’d done. It was a roulette either way, but one option gave you far more control than the other.

After the last dare consisting of Denki giving a very messy lap dance to Eijiro, and you weren’t really in the mindset to repeat anything even close to that.

“Sex act,” You sighed in defeat.

Denki snickered in the corner, “Spill it!”

Hanta cheered you on as you bit your lip in thought.

The liquor swirling in your stomach was affecting your inhibitions, and with one shy, half-glance to Hitoshi, you spoke up.

“I have a spanking kink, what of it.”

You drowned out Hitoshi’s red cheeks and the cheers of your friends with a deep chug from the bottle.

The bottle was passed to Hitoshi as you asked the question, “Dare or sex act?”

Jiro giggled from the bed, sipping at her own drink as well.

“Sex act,” Hitoshi groaned, rolling his eyes at Denki, but you all knew he loved what was going on.

“Reveal yourself, Hitoshi! What gets your rocks off!?” Mina shouted drunkenly as she rolled on the floor. You made a mental note to cut her off from having any more of the trashy vodka.

Hitoshi gave you a fleeting, but very horny look before regarding the group.

There was a twitch in your lip that made you think his smirk was all for you.

“I love pulling a cute girl over my lap and turning her ass purple while she’s begging for more.”

As everyone around you jeered and cheered, you gulped.

And so did Hitoshi.

...

“Yeah!” Hanta fell back. “That was so fucking funny. Like, all night it was all (Y/N) being like ‘I’m a filthy masochist!’ and Hitoshi being like ‘I’m a filthy sadist!’”

“Hanta, for the love of god,” You interrupted him, face burning with a fucked up mix of shame and lust. Hitoshi was mirroring you. “Why do you have to bring that up?”

“Oh, dude, because whenever we talk about it, you and Hitoshi get so embarrassed, it’s hilarious!” Hanta fucking giggled and reached for his drink.

“Are we gonna talk about how you and Denki both like fisting—” You give them a taste of their own medicine, watching the two of them choke and gawk. To the side, Momo whispered to Jiro, eyeing you.

Hitoshi barked out a laugh, losing some tension in his shoulders. You met his eye for a moment, only to see the jewelish purple taken up by his blackened pupils.

Fuck.

Momo spoke up, brow furrowed, “Can I request something a bit odd of you, (Y/N)? It’s perfectly okay if you say no.”

“Shoot,” You reply, sipping your beverage.

Momo bit her lip, eyes going to Jiro, then you, “Can I try spanking you?”

Everyone collectively choked. You especially.

You took another nervous sip of your drink, avoiding eye contact with the group.

You regained composure, refusing to look at Hitoshi, but letting the fucked up idea brew and brew in your mind, “Uh, I mean, is Jiro okay with it?”

“Oh yeah, totally,” Jiro nodded, kissing her girlfriend’s jaw. “Pain isn't my thing, at all, and she’s always wanted to try it. And hey, if you’re a ‘filthy masochist’, be my guest.”

But, would you be her guest?

Your drunken mind considered.

It was the most acceptable setting for it to happen in public. You really did like getting spanked and were a raging masochist, so it would, at the very least, be fun for you. A little humiliating, but that was also a turn on. You’d also get to indulge Momo, who was dating Jiro, but they both seemed perfectly okay with a bit of platonic pain play, so what was the real harm?

Your gaze flickered to Hitoshi.

Oh, fuck.

His face was lit up with a deep blush even in the irisian hues of the sex attic. His eyes were pointed distinctively opposite of you, a hand literally over his mouth as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Your mind lit up with ideas.

Terrible, sinful ideas that you would be the peak of you and Hitoshi’s teasing.

Fuck it.

“Sure, I’m down,” You smirked and Momo lit up. Immediately, she was up and scouting out the area for a spot to go to town. Momo even seemed to be eyeing up a wall of toys.

“Hey,” Jiro whispered to you as you truly realized what you got yourself into. “Thanks for this. She’s really into this kind of stuff, and I like indulging her, but I can’t handle too much.”

“Oh, of course!” You spoke so brightly. “I have a high pain tolerance, so I’m sure I can take what she dishes out, too.”

You heard Hitoshi clear his throat behind you.

You let yourself take another glance at Hitoshi and it made you want to die on the spot. His eyes glared in anger with the sinful intensity that was entirely directed at you. You could tell by the awkward way he was leaning that he was trying to hide the bulge in his jeans.

Is... Is he that turned on by just the thought of me getting spanked?

Oh, this truly was your best teasing yet.

(Were you taking this too far?)

Kaminari was gripping the sleeve of Hitoshi’s sweater, not allowing him to leave. Judging by how the latter was looking and staring, he wasn’t going to either way.

Momo walked back over, tugging you by the hair to a bed that was a lot higher than the others. It was the perfect height for you to bend over.

“What’s your safeword?” She asked, running her hand down your back to push you against the comforter like she’d done this hundreds of times before. Your chest fell against the bed, forearms giving you a bit of leverage.

You hummed, “Just ‘red’ should be good.”

“Perfect,” Momo smiled before pressing the back of your neck, forcing your face into the sheets. “I’m gonna give you ten with my hand, okay?”

“I trust you, Momo, do your worst,” You spoke so confidently, but truly you didn’t know what was coming.

Momo smoothed a hand over your ass, hardly covered due to the angle you were bent over. The pretty fabric of your dress, pulled over your curves, was hiding less and less. Momo hummed, running a firm hand down the zipper of the dress, “Do you have a preference as to if I pull your dress up or not?”

Oh, holy fuck.

That was beyond teasing.

Fuck it.

“You can pull it up, but keep my panties on. I need some dignity,” You winked back at her.

Momo blushed. She delicately pulled the fabric back, resulting in a round of wolf whistles from your friend. Sober you was going to hate the fact you did this, but drunk you? Thriving.

(Though you wished it was Hitoshi delivering, but you digress.)

Without warning, Momo brought her hand down on your ass, a loud smack resounding around the room, causing a slight hush.

Oh fuck.

You were already drawing some attention.

Despite the pleasant haze of painful pleasure that was beginning to swirl in your mind and gut, you couldn’t help but notice the looks and stares.

Particularly, you got a nasty feeling from the figure in the far corner eyeing you up from ass to toes. He looked fairly nondescript, but the aura he was giving off felt like poison. Something sticky and unpleasant formed in your gut when you looked at him. Your drunken mind chased it away by turning your head the other way.

And then all you could see was Hitoshi’s gaze on you.

It was damn near feral.

His cheeks flushed and dewy. A bit of sweat was dripping down his temple, reflecting the party lighting like some sort of sick joke. One of his hands was raking through his violet locks. His teeth dug into his full lips as he stared you down.

Your eyes met and you refused to look away.

So did he.

Another hit, harder, made you bite your lip to suppress a cry.

Three more and you couldn’t help the bubbling sounds that were spilling from you. Soft cries and moans, maybe a whimper or two leaked from your bitten lips. Momo wasn’t holding back, and you were sure your ass would ache tomorrow.

Good.

Two more and tears leaked from your eyes. You were sure your friends were just waiting to give both you and Momo so much shit, but you couldn’t care less. All you could do was drink in the hungry way Hitoshi eyed you.

It was definitely not the way people who were ‘just friends’ looked at each other.

“Last two, make ‘em count!” Mina shouted from behind you with a cheer. Some of the others in the room were clamoring to watch.

Momo ran a soothing hand down your back, “You doing okay?”

“I’m peachy,” You push out, voice clearly tear-stricken. “Finish me off, Momo. Bruise me.”

That apparently set her off. Momo smacked your ass with such a force that your face pressed harshly into the bed, obscuring your view of Hitoshi.

The last slap was, by far, the worst. Momo decided to tease you, torturing the raw skin of your ass. She would wind up only to pet your lower back or stroke the tops of your thighs. When she finally gave you the hit you deserved (for torturing Hitoshi and yourself), it sounded across the room just as loud as your sob that followed it. Tears leaked from your eyes as your breath came out in shudders. You loved the feeling of numbness and pain that emanated from your abused cheeks. You relished it.

You turned your head upright, vision blurry. Momo pulled your dress down, helping you sit up.

You didn’t get much of a chance to catch your breath as Hitoshi dashed away and out of the sex room, very tense and very distressed judging by how Denki was shouting after him.

Oh fuck.

You kicked yourself mentally, cursing your stupid fucking hubris.

You took it too far.

He’s either turned on, uncomfortable as fuck, or both.

Probably both.

You start to sit up, ignoring the sobering pain heating up your ass. Quickly, Momo pressed you back down to the bed. A solo cup of clear liquid was offered to you.

“Aftercare, obligatory. Drink this, it’s just water,” Momo stated curtly, watching you down the water. You rubbed the tears from your eyes.

“How’s my makeup?” You asked, ignoring the rising panic in your chest.

Momo inspected you for a moment as the others came over, jeering. She quickly rubbed away smears of mascara, running a hand over the side of your face, “Do you feel okay?”

“Yeah, totally. Shit was fun,” You prayed you were disguising the turning of your gut well enough with your nonchalant tone. “I’m gonna find Hitoshi and make sure he has an extra pair of pants.”

Momo frowned, pressing you down and squeezing your shoulders, “Somehow, I don’t believe that. Please rest for a moment, (Y/N).”

You faltered, following Momo’s command without much thought. Your mind was still in a somewhat of a fog as you sipped at the water she gave you. Her hand rubbed at your shoulders and back, dropping praise every few moments.

The rest of your peers filed over, cheering, flopping on the bed around you.

“Holy fuck, (Y/N),” Hanta whistled, clapping your shoulder.

“That was so hot,” Denki sighed, red-faced and wide-eyed.

Momo ran an affectionate hand through your hair as Jiro fell into her lap, winking at you, “She’s so good, right?”

“Yeah, holy fuck. If y’all ever need a third, you have my number.” You breathed, shaking out a laugh. “I think I need to find Hitoshi, though.”

You stood up, wobbling for a moment, comically aware of sets of eyes on you as you dashed away. Your friends shouted encouragement from behind you as you descended the stairs.

Truthfully, your intent was to smooth things over and make the routine, ‘but we’re bros!’ comment. You knew that this wouldn’t be enough, considering how far you pushed it.

You fucked up.

Took it too far.

What does Hitoshi even think of you now?

...

Your mind was sobering with the help of the water and pain.

You had to find Hitoshi.

So, you quickly moved about the house.

You scanned room after room, checked the front and back yard, but couldn’t find him anywhere.

Where the fuck was he?

You passed by a room upstairs, door shut, and you swore you heard his voice inside.

The panic that had been brewing in you was spilling over. Your ass ached and walking hurt like hell with the bruises that were forming. All you wanted was a cigarette and to apologize to your best friend for taking things way too fucking far—

You swung the door open and was met with a scene that did not include Hitoshi Shinsou.

A mess of four very cute, very high girls, mostly but not entirely clothed, were writhing on the bed, all popping up to look at you.

You flushed, body tensing as you tried to laugh it off, “Oh, wow, sorry about this! I thought my friend was in here. I’ll let you all get back to it.”

The girls hardly seemed perturbed by the sudden intrusion, rather they seemed quite complimentary.

“Aw, you don’t wanna join?” One of the girls pouted, giving you puppy dog eyes. “You’re so pretty!”

“T-thank you,” You shook your head, “You are all very sweet, but I have to find my friend.”

“The one behind you?” A different girl asked.

Your hazed mind hadn’t even picked up that was anyone behind you.

You couldn’t help lighting up. Hitoshi had to be behind you, of course, this silly anxiety attack would come to an end—

You turned.

Your face fell.

***********

It was the creep from the sex room, grinning down at you. There was a nasty glint in his eye.

Your heart started going faster. Your gut soured with a feeling far off from drunkenness.

“Actually, uh, no, I’ll be going, thanks.” You tried to sidestep the man, but he quickly blocked the doorway, boxing you in.

“No, I think we’ll stay,” Oh, the man’s voice was sick in your ears.

You were too shocked to move at first.

His reached for your shoulder, but you managed to stumble back from him.

“No, hey, dude, don’t touch me,” You barked back, pass your growing fear.

He scoffed, muttering something about you being a ‘cheap whore’ and stalked you down.

Your back hit a wall. You froze.

You felt trapped.

His cheap cologne was choking you.

He was just inches away.

You looked helplessly to the girls on the bed, but they had dissolved back into each other. Their hands were grabbing at each other's writhing bodies, clothes being torn away with light moans filling the air. They were far too fucked to be bothered with what was happening to you. The deafening music of the party drowned out your senses beyond the small room.

You tried to slip away from him, out of the door, but his arm slammed beside you.

He caged you.

His hand shot to grab your wrap, squeezing hard and shooting pain into your shoulder as you tried to rip yourself away.

“Get the fuck away from me!” You snarled, trying to wrench out of his grip, away from him. You fell deeper into panic.

You could feel his breath on your ear, and your heart dropped in your chest. With the thrum of the party, it felt far too loud for anyone to hear you. Even if you shouted for help, would anyone come? No one even knew that anything was wrong—

A voice cracked like a roll of thunder through the man’s actions and the drone of the party.

“Get the fuck off of them before I break your fucking fingers.” A familiar, blessed voice cut the air from behind you.

Thank fucking god.

Hitoshi stood in the doorway.

You almost sobbed in relief.

His broad form took up most of the door frame, chest puffed out in his anger. His brow was lowered, mouth twisted in revulsion and fury, all directed at the man who had you caged. Only rage colored Hitoshi’s features. Until he caught your gaze, anyways.

Then, it all dissolved to fear.

“We’re busy, she’s fine, fuck off.” The guy said, digging his hand into your side.

You kicked at his shoe, relishing the way he hissed in pain.

The man glared at you, then looked to Hitoshi. The man scoffed, looking him up and down to assess whether putting up a fight was worth it.

Apparently not, as the man shoved you roughly towards Hitoshi.

*********

You tripped into the latter’s chest as he caught you easily.

Without missing a beat, he steadied you and crushed you to him. One of his broad hands moved up to almost shield the side of your face. You were surprised to find that his body was shaking just as hard as your own. You both mirrored each other in rage and panic.

You pressed your face into his sweater as tears remained dangerously close to falling from your eyes. Fear still tore through you and everything about Hitoshi made you feel a hell of a lot safer.

Hitoshi’s arm tightened as he continued his stare-down.

The man grumbled, exiting the room in a huff and harshly pushing back Hitoshi (and you). You flinched, wincing. A low, rumbling growl rumbled in Hitoshi’s chest as he stared death at the man.

You knew that this was probably all too much. There were details of intimacy and boundaries that were being broken without thought from both of you and that was very bad, probably.

But, you also were drunk on fear as opposed to vodka, and having someone safe to hold you felt better than any hit you could’ve found at the party.

You surrendered to your very obvious reality.

When the man was gone, filtered back into the party, Hitoshi looked down at you, his mood entirely changing.

His anger dissolved. His face softened as he tenderly (and quickly) assessed you. Concerned, but earnest eyes searched your face and body for visible signs of harm. When he was satisfied, Hitoshi linked your hands and pulled you from the room.

He walked you through the party, quickly but gingerly. Your mind buzzed, still panicked and anxious, but the thought of cold air and a less stimulating environment was like aloe on a burn.

Finally, you reached the front door, walking onto an empty front landing.

You fell into Hitoshi.

Your sweaty, shaking hands clung to the back of his sweater as you buried your face into his neck. The familiar scent of his woodsy cologne and natural sweat was more of a sedative than any drug you could find at the party and you fucking needed it.

Hitoshi wrapped his arms around you from the small of your back to your shoulders, squeezing as he buried his face in your hair.

You stiffened but relaxed a moment later. You couldn’t keep pretending. You didn’t have it in you.

You were surrounded by him and the cold air, and nothing felt more comforting.

You decided to forget the semantics of your relationship for a little.

(You hoped, prayed, that he would too).

Hitoshi suddenly tensed, “Is it okay that I’m touching you?”

You could only nod, voice weak and small in the back of your throat, “Y-yeah, it's cool. It’s been cool.”

Hitoshi grounded you, turning the two of you so you were protected from any potential prying eyes. He moved you just right so that his cheek rested on top of your head.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes and focus on the calming beat of Hitoshi’s heart.

He soothed you by existing; he always did. But, in that moment, after such an uncomfortably close brush with something fucking disgusting, his presence was almost cleansing. It purged you of the incessant clawing in the back of your mind.

You’re safe.

You pulled away just enough to look up at Hitoshi’s face. You felt him give you a squeeze which made the smallest, unlikely smile form on your lips.

Slowly, like he was trying not to spook a wild animal, Hitoshi cupped the side of your face. The hold was firm, like it had power to it. You sank into his palm.

(Fuck that feels nice—)

“How are you feeling?” Hitoshi asked softly, gaze warm and honey-like.

You laughed weakly, leaning into his palm, “Like shit. Holy fuck.”

The hand cradling your lower back stroked a thumb idly, “I can only imagine. What happened back there? That guy had been in the ‘sex room’ with us, right?”

“Uh, excuse you, ‘sex attic’, I think you mean?” You still managed to joke. “And yes. Must’ve been following me or something, fucking creep.”

“If you want, I’ll go back in there and kick the shit outta him. I’m sure the others will help. It’d be so worth getting him thrown out for,” Hitoshi snickered, turning his head towards the door as he did.

As he turned back, his eyes widened as your fearful expression returned.

“P-please don’t leave,” You knew it was too much, right? Obviously. But, you didn’t care.

You felt fairly certain Hitoshi didn’t either by that point.

You pressed yourself back close to him and buried your face in the crook of his neck, clutching at his front. “Please don’t go.”

You weren’t sure if he’d return any affections (obviously earlier gestures were just to comfort you, right?).

He did. Immediately, he squeezed as much of you as he could reach, nuzzling his face into the side of your head.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here.” Hitoshi reassured you with his voice as well as his touch. You shuddered, feeling his lips and breath so close.

The two of you stayed like that for a while.

You retained your death grip on Hitoshi, contemplating it all. Perhaps it was the setting or the way your body was thrumming, but something was forcing you to come to terms with how you really felt about him.

You enjoyed teasing Hitoshi too much for it to just be platonic. You knew this.

You wondered how Hitoshi felt considering all of those heated looks and smirks he loved dishing out.

(An insecure thought or two crept about only being a fuck to him. You tried to repress it, though it certainly didn’t calm you.)

Despite these thoughts, you held Hitoshi with everything you had, fearing that whatever long-cultivated connection the two of you would slip away by the end of the night.

After a few minutes of slow silence, Hitoshi offered you a cigarette, which you took graciously. He leaned forward to light it, silently regarding you with warm eyes.

You took a fat inhale, breathing out with shaky lungs.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke abruptly.

His eyes widened and he shook his head, gently grabbing your shoulders, “No, (Y/N), there is literally nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“No, there is. The thing with Momo,” You shook your head. “That was bad. I’m sorry, I was teasing you and I took it too far. Way too far.”

Hitoshi went still, averting his eyes and biting his lip.

“I appreciate the apology,” Hitoshi's face erupted in red. “B-but, you don’t need to be sorry.”

He’s... embarrassed?

Oh.

(You truly were a dumbass, but god love ‘ya.)

You took another puff, nodding.

Hitoshi pulled you to him again, this time wrapping an arm around your shoulders. His thumb rubbed idly at the bare skin of your arm as he whipped out his phone.

“What do you want to do?” The air was cold as Hitoshi spoke. It nipped at your skin and made you crinkle your nose.

With a moment's hesitation, you replied in a hoarse voice, “Can we go home?”

Hitoshi visibly softened for you, “Of course. I can call us an Uber. To your dorm...?” There’s a question in his voice that you both already knew the answer to.

You shook your head, “Your place?”

He nodded, “Of course, (Y/N).”

You leaned into his shoulder, letting yourself relax.

#salem writes #hitoshi shinso x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #shinsou x reader #shinso hitoshi x reader #mha smut #mha x reader #bnha x reader #shinso hitoshi #shinso hitoshi x y/n #hitoshi shinso x y/n #shinso hitoshi x you

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ethereousdelirious · 4 years

Text

Fandom: Cri\tical Ro\le Cam\paign 2

Characters: C\aleb, M\olly (everyone else appears or is mentioned in passing)

Pairings: Wid\omauk

Tropes: F L U F F, college AU but D&D races are still a thing

Summary: uhh Cal\eb gets sick, M\olly takes care of him. Moll\y gets sick, Cale\b takes care of him. groundbreaking

Warnings/Notes: [Spoilers for episode 26. Description under cut]

UHHH yeah so this is gonna get rambly and it’s really not all that important, you can skip to the fic if you want:

SO my main problem with Widomauk is that Caleb and Molly honestly didn’t even really like each other until right up before Molly died and it so I don’t really find Widomauk believable. So I kinda wrote this as an interpretation of the “Molly gets res’d scenario without having to deal with figuring out where the M9 would be in canon if they ever got to a point where they could res Molly. I wanted to explore the only way I feel that Widomauk could be believable to me; that Caleb gets over is “woe is me I don’t deserve love or kindness complex” and Molly ditches his “swagger swagger I’m so much smarter and better than you all because I’m self-aware” attitude.

LMAO that makes it sound like I don’t like them buT I SWEAR I DO, just at the start of the campaign, NEITHER of them was in a good place to be in a relationship.

Okay that’s enough outta me

OH ONE MORE THING. Literally the only reason I made this a college AU is because there’s SO MUCH canon-compliant Caleb whump that I honestly couldn’t think of something original to write LMAAOO

okay i’m done now Caleb Widogast was no stranger to discomfort. He had endured pain and discomfort both physical and emotional many times over the course of his life and had gotten quite good at functioning through it.

So when a headache started to drum in his temples not 15 minutes before he was supposed to meet his friends at a party, he simply swallowed down some painkillers and headed out.

The house was close enough to Caleb's own accommodations that he could walk, so he did. Summer was only just coming to an end, but the air already got bitter cold at night. Caleb pulled his coat closer around himself and swept his hair back, cursing internally when he felt a drop of rain land on his face. Maybe he should have called an Uber.

The rain got heavier and Caleb walked faster in turn, until fat droplets were pattering on the sidewalk and he was red-faced and out of breath. He was close enough now that he could hear the music, pounding in time with the pain in his head.

Most of the parties Caleb had attended were small things, just a handful of people getting drunk in someone's living room. He had quietly been hoping tonight's party would be the same way, but of course he should have known better.

Molly had just returned from a semester abroad and was throwing himself a welcome back party, and he never did anything by halves.

Caleb reached the door. He dry-swallowed two more painkillers before entering.

He was immediately greeted by a chorus of cheers. "Caleb!

Molly was moving toward him, half-naked and wearing some sort of plastic tiara, and then Caleb's brain shorted out. Molly had him by the jaw, a hand on either cheek and was kissing him so hard they would have fallen over had Caleb not backed into the door.

Molly pulled away, smirking and bright-eyed. "Good to see you again!"

"He did that to Fjord too." Beau materialized by Caleb's shoulder and pulled him away. "And Jester."

"Why are you soaking wet?" Molly called after them.

"I, ah…" Caleb let Beau pull him into the crowded living room and stripped off his coat. "I walked here. It's raining." The music seemed to just keep getting louder and louder. Caleb felt drunk just from the sheer volume, although the heavy taste of rum on Molly's lips probably wasn't helping matters.

"What are you drinking?" Molly asked.

"Oh, um." The thought of drinking alcohol made Caleb's stomach turn. "Mocktail?"

For a moment, Molly cocked his head, obviously confused, but he brushed it off. "I'll have Jester whip you up something nice."

"Thank you."

"Get me something too," Beau hollered after him, her voice fading into the music

Molly flashed her a thumbs up behind his back. Caleb shook his head to clear it. It didn't help.

"You been pregaming?" Beau demanded.

"No."

"You're acting weird."

"Forgive me, I wasn't expecting a tongue down my throat the minute I walked in the door." Caleb ruined the sarcasm by laughing. "It's good to know he hasn't changed."

Beau snorted. "You should have seen Fjord's face when Molly finally let him go. I thought he was going to pass out."

Whatever Caleb was going to say died on his lips, overtaken by a fit of dry coughs. He smoothed his wet hair out of his and cleared his throat. Not liking the look Beau was giving him, he decided to change the subject. "Do all these people know Molly? I don't even recognize half of them."

"Hell if I know." Beau just shrugged. "Hey, drinks!"

They both sat up and watched Molly weave his way through the crowd, a plastic cup held in either hand.

"You could help!" he yelled to Beau. She just flipped him off and laughed

"I don't think you deserve this any more," Molly said when he finally reached them.

"Well." Beau cracked her knuckles. "You can either give it to me or I can take it from you."

"Oh, sure, threaten me." Molly laughed and handed Beau the cup.

"Thanks-- Hey, where's Jester, anyway?"

Molly shrugged. "She abandoned mocktail duty, apparently. Maybe she's putting condoms in people's pockets when they aren't looking."

"Ja, or making balloon animals."

"That seems more likely."

Beau stood up. "I'm gonna go look for her."

Molly sighed and threw himself down on the couch beside Caleb, the contents of the remaining cup sloshing dangerously. "You're sick of me already? I've only been back for a day. Very well, I grant you leave. Go find Jester."

"You're such a dick," Beau said, not bothering to hide her smile. She turned and disappeared into the crowd.

"For you." Molly held out the cup to Caleb. "It's a raspberry lime mojito. With no rum, obviously."

"Thank you." Caleb took a cautious sip. It did taste nice, but the acid stung his throat and made him cough. He turned his head to the side and buried his face in his sleeve until the burning itch finally subsided and he could breathe again.

"That bad, huh? I can make you something else." Molly took the cup back and tasted its contents, clearly confused by Caleb's reaction. His tail lashed figure eights down by their knees.

"Oh, no, it's not that." Caleb cleared his throat and sniffled. His headache had moved from his temples to his sinuses and a sudden realization hit him. "I think I'm coming down with something."

"Oh. Molly's face darkened. "Kinda wish I hadn't kissed you now." He looked down at the cup. "Hm."

"Sorry. I thought it was just a headache, but. Everything's getting worse."

Molly just shrugged. "It was kinda my own fault. So." He stood up and offered Caleb his hand. "Your place or mine?"

"What?"

"Well, I'd imagine you want to go lay down someplace that isn't blasting electropop at earth-shattering volumes."

"It's your party," Caleb protested. "It's fine, I can walk home again. Or call an Uber. I'll be fine."

Molly ignored this. He pulled out his phone and began to type. "You haven't moved houses, have you?"

"No."

"Great." He typed a few more things, stared at the screen a moment, and nodded. "Okay, let's go."

"Go?" Caleb rubbed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to ease some of the pressure in his sinuses, but only managed to tease out a few sneezes.

"Gesundheit." Molly winked at him. "C'mon." He took one of Caleb's hands and hauled him off the couch.

"What are you doing?" Standing was unpleasant. Caleb hadn't realized how tired he was. Unsure of what else to do, he let Molly lead him toward the front door.

"I'm taking you home."

"Molly." Caleb stopped in the doorway. Molly pulled him forward a step and shut the door.

"Caleb." Molly had his arms wrapped around himself and Caleb registered with an uncomfortable jolt that Molly was shirtless. "I want to do this."

"You're shivering. I left my coat inside, let me just--"

"Come on." Molly took Caleb by the wrist. "The car's here. I'll have Fjord get your coat." He led Caleb down the steps.

The car's dimly-lit interior was heaven compared to the constant overstimulation of the party. Caleb let his head fall on Molly's shoulder while the tiefling made quiet conversation with the driver.

Caleb was half-asleep by the time the car pulled up to his apartment building. He let Molly thank the driver and slid out after him.

"Okay, I'm here safe and sound. You can go back now, really." He tapped the cheap plastic tiara Molly was wearing on top of his curls. "I'm sure everyone will be missing you."

"Aha." Molly tapped his nose. "They want me. You need me."

"Cute." Seeing that Molly wasn't going to give in, Caleb climbed the stairs to his door and unlocked it. His place was clean enough, if a little cluttered, so he didn't bother apologizing for the state of things.

"You know," Molly said, "when I pictured taking you to bed, it wasn't quite like this."

"Forgive me for the lack of energy." Caleb coughed shortly into his sleeve and let Molly push him onto the mattress.

"I pardon you." Molly knelt and started untying Caleb's shoelaces.

"Oh, Molly, there's no need; I can--"

"Hush." Molly slipped off one shoe, then the other.

"Thank you."

"You're most welcome. Now get cozy under the covers."

"With my socks on?"

"Well, yes, it's freezing in here."

"You can turn the heat on. And borrow one of my shirts."

Molly's tail swished in excitement. "I can?"

"Ja."

"Excellent."

Caleb arranged himself under the covers and watched Molly go through his closet with unparalleled glee, occasionally making remarks about what colors Caleb should wear more often.

Finally, he pulled out a navy blue Henley and slipped it on, careful not to get his horns snagged on it. "I hope this isn't your favorite shirt, because I'm never going to give it back."

Caleb laughed despite himself. "It's too big on you."

"Then I'll roll the sleeves up," Molly said, doing so. "Now! That's me taken care of. How about you?"

"I'm already wearing a shirt."

"Very funny. Have you eaten?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Well, good." Molly fiddled with the hem of Caleb's shirt, thinking. "How about I make you some tea?"

"Ah, sure." Caleb couldn't help but blush. It was still hard to get used to the idea of people doing nice things for him with no ulterior motive.

"Perfect. Don't move, I'll be right back." Molly left.

Caleb's head was filled with the image of Molly wearing his shirt. The blue should have looked odd, like bruising against Molly's pale lavender skin, but for some reason it didn't. The way it hung off Molly's frame should have looked ridiculous, but it didn't. It was cute.

Idly, Caleb ran a few fingers through his hair. This wasn't good. Maybe he should ask for the shirt back.

Then he sighed and shook his head. It wasn't the shirt. It was Molly.

He was different now that he was back, more mature. He still teased, of course, but he was even getting along with Beau.

"Fuck," Cale whispered. Maybe he had a fever and his brain was getting wires crossed. He pressed his palm to his forehead.

It was at that moment that Molly reentered the room holding a mug. "You okay?"

"Oh, um, ja." Caleb blushed furiously.

"You sure?" Molly set the mug down on Caleb's dresser and leaned in so he could press his lips to Caleb's forehead.

It was something he'd done a million times before, something Caleb should have been used to, but his blush only deepened.

"You feel warm." Molly pulled away and smoothed Caleb's hair back. "Poor thing. How's your throat?"

"Sore."

"Hopefully the tea helps." Molly stuck his hands in his pockets. There wasn't anywhere to sit down in Caleb's bedroom so he stayed standing.

Caleb watched the steam curl out of the mug and dissipate. "Molly, listen," he said, steeling himself for an immediate protest.

Molly only cocked his head. "What?"

"I really do think I'm going to be okay for the night. You should get back to the party. It's for you, after all."

To Caleb's utter surprise, Molly didn't push back with nearly as much force as he'd been expecting. "Are you sure? I don't just want to abandon you here."

"Come by tomorrow, then. I promise not to die before morning."

Molly smiled. "Alright. I'll be here at 6:00 sharp."

"Don't even think about it."

"I'll think about it a little bit." Molly adjusted one of his sleeves, which had started to slide down his forearm. "Text me?"

Caleb waved his cell phone. "I'll send you pictures of Frumpkin."

"You'd better." Molly started to leave but paused in the doorway. "Really, though. Do text me if you need anything."

"I will. Now get going, before everyone thinks you left the country again."

"Alright, alright."

Molly left.

Caleb sat, almost overwhelmed by the sudden loneliness. He sighed and buried his face in his hands. He was too exhausted to process emotions right now. He'd figure this out later.

Caleb woke up the next day feeling much, much worse. He silenced his alarm and coughed into the open air.

He wasn't getting out of bed today for anyone or anything. Certainly not for a Friday morning class.

After a moment's thought, he decided to at least email the professor. His phone was just barely hanging to life at 12% battery and he had notifications for almost every social media app he was on. They must have missed him at the party.

"Frumpkin?" Caleb called. The cat came running in a few moments later. "Hi." Frumpkin sat down in the center of the room and stared.

It was no use trying to go back to bed now. Caleb decided to text Molly to tell him to come over.

Molly responded with a blurry Snapchat. Caleb squinted at it until his headache got so bad he was forced to put the phone down and close his eyes until the throbbing in his sinuses died down.

This was the worst.

With nothing else to do, he sat back and ran his hands through his hair, combing out the tangles that had accumulated in the night. When that was done, he rolled over and tried to get Frumpkin to jump up and cuddle.

After a moment of teasing, Frumpkin circled up on Caleb's chest.

Then the front door opened and he jumped down again to go investigate.

"If you're a serial killer, be warned, I have so many swords in here," Caleb called.

Molly laughed and poked his head in the doorway. "Damn, I was going to come in a murder you, but I'd hate to get stabbed."

Cakeb sniffled. "I'll give you a pass if you get it done swiftly." He sneezed and pain rang through his head.

"Bless you." Molly crossed the room and placed several plastic bags on Caleb's lap. Then he turned around and held up his phone. "I promised everyone I'd take a selfie with you to prove you were still alive. Smile."

Caleb immediately pretended to be dead, letting his head loll and sticking his tongue out.

"Very funny. I'm sending that."

"Oh, can you do me a favor, please?"

"Anything for you, dearest." Molly's tail swished like it did when he thought he was being funny.

"Can you get my phone charger from the living room?" Caleb muffled a sneeze into his shirt collar. "Please?"

"Sure thing. There are tissues in one of those bags, by the way."

"Thanks." Caleb began to paw through the bags while he waited for Molly to come back.

"Oh by the way." Molly tossed Caleb the phone charger. "I don't think you'll be seeing any of the others today."

"Why's that?"

"Well, you know, Beau and Fjord got pretty fucked up last night, so Jester and Caduceus are probably going to be tied up looking after them. And you Nott went home, and I think Yasha is dead. She certainly wasn't moving when I left."

"Ja. Two hours is a hell of a commute."

"So!" Molly framed his face with his hands and smiled. "It's just going to be you and me. How ever shall we pass the time?" His coy smile faded when Caleb started to cough, an awful, barking noise that made Caleb feel like his chest was being shredded.

"You could kill me?" Caleb suggested.

"Hold on, I have some cough syrup in one of these bags."

"That will make me all hazy," Caleb warned.

"Then sleep. You probably need it."

"Fair enough." Caleb stretched. "Am I allowed to get up for breakfast, Dr Tealeaf?"

"I'll allow it."

They walked into the kitchen together. Much like the rest of Caleb's apartment, it was small and shabby, with furniture that was mismatched but sturdy enough.

"Okay!" Molly set the bags on the table and started unpacking them. "From the pharmacy: cough syrup, tissues, cough drops, a thermometer, candy. From IHOP: pancakes, pancakes, and more pancakes."

"You're still wearing my shirt," Caleb noticed.

"I told you I'm not giving it back. I like it; it smells like you."

Caleb busied himself opening the boxes of pancakes, then turned away to fetch some plates.

"Hey, let me take your temperature before we start eating," Molly said.

"Sure." Caleb came back with the plates, satisfied that his blush had faded. He sat down and watched Molly fumble with the plastic thermometer covers. "Do you want some help?"

"I got it. Open wide."

Caleb opened his mouth and let Molly slide the thermometer under his tongue. He must have looked like a mess, still in his clothes from yesterday, not having showered or shaved.

Molly was also wearing yesterday's clothes (sans plastic crown) but hebat least seemed like he'd brushed his teeth and not passed out in bed mid-text message.

The thermometer beeped. Caleb looked at it. "101.3," he said, doing the conversion to Celsius in his head. "Hm."

"That's nothing. Have some cough syrup after breakfast. I'm sure you'll be better by Monday." Molly sat down and began to stack pancakes on a plate. "Speaking of, I can't believe you're missing class today. Since when do you do that?"

Caleb shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. Maybe he had also changed when Molly was gone. "I am sure the professor would not want me there like this." He gestured at himself.

"Well, I'm glad you decided not to go." Molly smiled at him over the table.

Caleb smiled back, warmth spilling into his chest. "So am I."

"Now finish eating so I can pour some DayQuil into you."

"That's not a great mental image."

Molly stuck out his tongue.

Caleb's appetite was always the first thing to go when he got sick. He managed a few more bites of food before yawning widely behind both hands and scrubbing at his face. "I think I'm ready to go back to bed."

Molly poured him out a dose of the bright orange sludge body calling itself 'medicine.' "Bottoms up."

Caleb swallowed it down and staggered back to bed.

As Molly had predicted, Caleb was well enough to attend classes on Monday. His fever was gone, though he was still a little tired.

He almost considered ditching his study group so he could go home and sleep, but he decided not to at the last minute. Bleary-eyed, he walked to the library and hiked up to the second floor.

"Hey, Caleb." Fjord nodded in greeting and pulled out a chair for him. "Glad to see you're not dead."

"Thank you." Caleb sat. "You as well. I heard you all had quite the Thursday night."

"I'm never drinking again," Beau declared.

Yasha shrugged. "I will probably drink again. But I had a very bad Friday morning."

"You guys should totally stick to milk," Jester said. "Me and Caduceus had fun and we didn't get hungover."

"Where is Caduceus, anyway?" Beau asked, looking around for him. "I know Nott said she was running late."

"He probably got caught up talking to one of his professors," Fjord said with a shrug. "You know he never checks his phone. What about Molly, anyone heard from him?"

They all looked at Yasha. She shook her head. "No, I saw him this morning, but that's it. I'll text him."

"Alright, let's give it 5 more minutes," Fjord said.

"Ugh." Beau flipped open one of her textbooks and slumped back in her seat. "Can't we just get it over with? I wanna go for a jog before it gets dark."

Caleb stood abruptly. "I think I'm going to go, actually. I'm still a bit tired."

Beau narrowed her eyes at him while the others said their goodbyes. Caleb didn't look at her.

He left the library slowly, bought a coffee, and started the trek across campus toward Molly and Yasha's apartment. Now that he thought about it, Molly hadn't been very responsive all day, only sending a few texts in the morning before going silent. Caleb had a sneaking suspicion where he might be.

Molly's door was locked. Caleb tried him by text and got no response, so he knocked. That also got no response, leaving him standing on the porch like an idiot while he tried to decide what to do.

He'd been so sure Molly would be here.

The door opened and Molly appeared. He yawned and steadied himself against the doorframe.

"Hey, Caleb."

"Did I get you sick?"

"If we want to get into it, I got me sick." Molly looked at Caleb with something like wistfulness. "Guess I should learn to keep my hands off you." He opened the door wide. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yes. Thank you." It wasn't the first time Caleb had been to Molly and Yasha's apartment, although it had been a while. It was mostly clean, save for the pile of blankets on the couch. Molly had evidently made himself a best.

"That's cute," Caleb said out loud, picturing a cozy purple tiefling nestled in blankets.

"Hm?" Molly wrinkled his nose and sniffed.

"What?"

"Oh, um. Nice setup."

"Thanks." Molly burrowed under the blankets and scooted off to the side of the couch so Caleb could sit as well. He buried his face in the blankets and coughed miserably

"I'm sorry," Caleb said when Molly resurfaced.

"It's really not your fault." Molly shifted under the blankets, twisting so he could rest his head on Caleb's lap. "Is this okay?"

"Ja." Caleb began to stroke Molly's curls. "Do you have everything you need? Medicine and all that?"

"Ja, ja." Molly smiled against Caleb's leg. "Yasha's good about keeping that stuff on hand. I don't like cough syrup though. Makes me all fuzzy."

"Do you have cough drops?"

"Yeah, but I forgot 'em in the bathroom. Didn't feel like getting up again."

"I can get them for you."

"Don't you move." Molly pressed one of his hands to Caleb's knee.

"Hey. Molly." Caleb shifted until he realized he might be disturbing the tiefling in his lap and made himself hold still. "You've changed."

"For the better, I hope?"

"I think so."

"You've changed too, y'know. I like it."

"I'm glad." Caleb traced the outside of Molly's ear, trying to think of how to word what he wanted to say. "Things were… Not the best between us when you left."

Molly laughed. "We were all assholes, you mean. Well. Jester wasn't." He coughed. "But the rest of us. I think we were just learning how not to be assholes to each other when I left."

"That's a fair point." Caleb sighed. "Molly. I don't want, ah. Well. To be blunt, I do not want to make things weird between us."

"But you realized you were madly in love with me when I was away and now you can't live without me, yes, I know. Jester and Nott have already confessed their feelings for me."

"Ah, well. Not quite that. Um, but, I do think what you said is true. About us being assholes. And I would like to spend some more time with you, just the two of us." Caleb sighed and hid his face behind his hands. "I am royally fucking this up. Molly, I want-- I think--"

"Hey, hey, you're not fucking anything up" Molly sniffled and swiped at his nose. "Let's start here, just like this. You petting me, and me sneezing all over your leg. I think it's very romantic."

Caleb laughed and ruffled Molly's curls. "Okay. Let's start here."

#ethereous writes

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