Caleb laid back against the expanse of pillows and gave a contented sigh. He wasn’t used to doing those but he was getting better, even if he did say so himself.
It was made a hell of a lot easier by the fact that Mollymauk was a second behind him, snuggling down as happy as a cat, using Caleb’s stomach as a pillow. His tail came and wrapped loosely around his lower leg, anchoring them together. He did that a lot, whenever they slept side by side. It seemed to be a comfort thing.
Caleb wondered idly if Molly did that with everyone who shared his bed.
“It’s too hot today,” the tiefling groaned, “Make it less hot, Caleb.”
He had to laugh at that, knowing it was mostly theatrics, a playful back and forth, “How would you like me to do that, liebling?”
Molly scrunched up his face, “You’re an all powerful wizard. Do some magic stuff.”
He stroked his fingers through Mollymauk’s loose violet curls. It pushed them back off his damp forehead while also allowing him an indulgent moment to admire how soft they were, lazily half tamed, deep purple like the colour of a fine plum wine.
“I don’t need magic to know you’d be less hot if you weren’t lying across an equally hot and sweaty wizard.”
Molly considered that for half a second before putting on a face of perfect disgust, “No. Not cuddling you isn’t an option. Make me less hot a different way. With magic.”
Caleb giggled, snorting laughter into his cupped hand, “It's too hot for magic.”
It was a hot day. The whole city had been quietly baking under a full, golden summer sun all day and the evening had brought only the slightest of breezes. Most people were glorying in it. The parks were full of people, young lovers and families and old friends, all sprawled on the grass in the dappled shade. Vendors who sold iced fruit juices and frozen flavoured cream were doing a roaring trade, the fountain in the plaza had been full of children laughing and splashing each other delightedly.
For Caleb, who spent as much of his time as he possibly could in a darkened lab with all the windows closed and wore a thick canvas overcoat the rare times he was forced to go outside, it was something close to a nightmare. So he’d immediately decided to go straight to Marion’s and see Mollymauk. There at least he was practically obligated to be naked.
Now he was very much without his clothes, with the sun fully set and the night air gusting through the gossamer curtains, and he was starting to feel like he could enjoy summer.
“I mean, if you wanted me to work some of my other magic, I could do that,” he grinned, his good mood turning him playful and eager to let the night go on, “Is it too hot to get eaten out?”
Though the tiefling feigned a long, exasperated sigh, he could see the interest flicker in his eyes, unmistakable, “Only if its a low effort eating out. No using your hands. I’ll spread my lips and you lick.”
Caleb hooted with laughter, “Fine, you big baby. Lie on your back.”
Molly gave him a dazzling smile, sudden and bright as the sun breaking through rain clouds, though quickly lapsed back into his grumpy face, rolling over and yawning amongst his vast mountain of pillows, all different shades of purple or gold like an impossibly soft treasure pile. Caleb followed, tumbling onto his stomach between Molly’s invitingly spread legs.
“Now you’re smiling,” Caleb teased softly, pressing kisses to the insides of his thighs.
“You just look incredibly pretty down there,” Molly shrugged languidly, somehow making even that simple, dismissive gesture fluid and elegant. His hand slid down his own stomach before lightly cupping Caleb’s cheek, pushing back some strands of his hair that had wriggled free of the leather band he tied it back with. It was a gesture of such tenderness and gentleness, Caleb shivered.
Things were like that when he spent nights with Mollymauk. They were light and playful, intense and gripping, whatever Molly recognised his client needed in the moment, appraising him with well trained eyes from the moment he walked in the door. Caleb recognised that, the idea that he was a task to Mollymauk, a puzzle to be figured out and dealt with with slick professionalism.
But then there would always be an undercurrent of sincerity. These quiet moments of genuineness. Molly would look at Caleb like he really saw him, in a way no one else had ever done, as far as he could remember. Like he knew him, inside and out, yet still found it in him to care so very deeply, something Caleb had always thought was utterly impossible.
As much as he would try, Caleb couldn’t see that it was manufactured the way the rest of it was.
But he pushed those thoughts away and turned his attention back between Molly’s legs. His long, elegant fingers, nails beautifully pointed and painted except for the index and middle fingers of his right hand which were kept clipped and rounded for obvious reasons, slipped between his legs and parted his lips. There he was a lighter shade of purple than he was everywhere else, edging towards lavender, and as soon as Caleb saw it, all the ridges and folds and creases of him, as complex and intricate as an open flower head, he lost all thoughts in his head apart from the ones that cried Molly’s name.
He licked gently at first, slowly, lazily as he’d promised. What Mollymauk tasted of, he couldn’t quite place even when he’d try and think back on it later. There was salt in it, musk and something animalistic and natural, beyond whatever perfume he delicately placed there when he was getting ready for a night of work. It was heady, something Caleb could quickly become drunk on and hopelessly addicted to.
Molly began to moan as soon as his tongue touched his skin. Not a fake, exaggerated moan, a soft keening that began in his chest like a cat’s purr as Caleb’s tongue traced wide, looping paths between his lips.
Only when Molly’s toes were curled in the silken sheets and his tail was lashing and quivering did Caleb pick up his speed with faster, broader strokes up the entire length of him, setting the rapid pace for the climb to the top.
Molly gasped, thighs tightening and his spare hand coming down to grip Caleb’s hair, “That’s it, just like that…”
Caleb’s hands gripped the sheets as he worked harder, never once stumbling or interrupting his rhythm. He was an expert at this by now, Molly had carefully taught him and lead him through this dance so many times before that he could do it with his eyes closed.
But why would he want to close his eyes? Why would he want to miss that final rush as Molly finally arched his back right up off the mattress and cried his name in a low, throaty voice. Salt rushed across his tongue, spilling a little from the corners of his mouth, but he didn’t stop. Not until Molly was clean and trembling, chest heaving. He wouldn’t stop until he was told. He was good like that.
But Molly did eventually tug his hair, bringing him back up to encircle him in his arms, kissing him deeply and almost possessively, all the pride he felt for him there in the touch of their lips. He kept holding him, safe and secure, no matter how hot it was.
“Like I said,” Caleb grinned, allowing himself to feel more than a little pleased, “Magic.”