Chapter Text
There’s the hassle of his gauntlet; it’s an off-white, polished, and rattles the dresser when it’s set down. Then his breastplate, his shoulder piece, his headwear. Propped onto his designated armor stand, and the rigidness of a soldier boils down into the fatigue of a man.
Their relationship has kind of become common knowledge by now. Friends for a decade, roommates for years, lovers for months. Wildberry to the Wolf Captain, Crunchy Chip to the guard. Like a natural order, that’s how it was.
So when the closed bathroom door is pressed inward, a palm splayed across the width and short, heavy footsteps follow suit, Crunchy does not react.
He can hear the water gushing, and it must be hot as hell because the mirrors are fogged and there’s steam to the ceiling. Somehow, it smells like home. Like tacky sweet berries and juice. With the tip of his head, Wildberry promises to be quick, then presses the door shut behind him and strides toward the sink.
Uncharacteristically, Crunchy Chip does not say a word. Body limp in the tub, his hair is damp and the ink has been scrubbed off his cheeks. Mind fuzzy from leisure and, strangely enough, it’s a fitting look on him.
He’s different when he’s tired. Though a rarity, he’s more lax as a person. Wildberry can see right through him. “Rough day?” He glimpses his partner through the vanity mirror, nose-deep in the water, shoulders slack.
Chip huffs, little bubbles surface from his breath, “Cara’s tryna’ kill me out there,”
“Likewise,”
“Preparing us for the expedition in Beast-Yeast. Won’t hop off my dick about it,”
Wildberry hums. “They’re making us go over the geography right now,”
“ Pft - really? You’re getting schooled?”
“Homework, too,”
Crunchy Chip barks out a laugh, “ Shit, man, I knew Raspberry was strict but -” He props himself up formally, his back straightens. “er, hey. Where you going?”
Wildberry is one foot out the door when Crunchy calls for him. He blinks, owlishly, then leans his weight against the doorframe.
“I assumed you wanted to rest,”
Crunchy rolls his eyes, and, yep. There he is again. “Yeah, but I rest better with you,”
“You want me to stay?”
“Aren’t you tired, too?” Chip beckons, waving him to the tub, “Get over here,”
“Really?”
But Crunchy Chip is already scooting over, clearing a space for him in the water.
It only takes a moment for Wildberry to sigh, then he’s grabbing a towel from the oak rack and stalking forward, feigning reluctance.
Steam hovers the water invitingly; there’s a single poorly-lit candle in an old glass jar by the tap, a half-eaten Lunchable on the other side. It’s about as romantic as they get, and god knows he loves it.
Wildberry perches on the lip of the bathtub, towel over his shoulder, fingers working his braid. “Have you eaten dinner?”
“Have you?”
He huffs.
“...I’ll order takeout.”
“ After,” Chip grumbles, then lightly slaps the water across himself to gesture Wildberry in. “ C’mere, I even got those shitty candles that you like,”
Oh. That’s what that smell was.
“How sweet,”
The aketon is the first to go. It’s tugged off his head and leaves his hair frazzled. His pants are bunched to his ankles before he can fully shuck them away, and though he is hesitant, Crunchy’s stare is…encouraging. Eyes watching wholly when his briefs are set aside, folded neatly onto the marble countertop.
One foot in, and it’s hot. A little too much, but his face is hotter, burning at the prospect of bathing with him. It’s hardly the first time they’ve done so, and at least the thousandth time he’s witnessed him bare, but the exposure is still distracting .
The tub isn’t small, but Wildberry isn’t either. Across from one another, their heels touch and his abdomen almost reaches either side of the bath; Wildberry even looks embarrassed about it, but Crunchy is reaching for him, hands pulling his shoulders and ordering him closer with a growl.
“I missed this,” Chip presses their foreheads together and preens into him. Like a need rather than a want, a means to survive. Large, earthly hands reach for his face, thumb sweeping his cheek, Crunchy can feel his eyelashes flit. “ I missed you,” Like this, he can smell the buildup of sweat, the nylon tents, the cooking fires. Wildberry’s cologne and the slight draft of hibiscus. “We don’t get to do this anymore,”
It’s a dreadful sentence, but it’s true. “I… yes, you’ve been working later,”
“So have you. It’s all… a lot. Y’know, the soul jam, the Republic,”
Wildberry nods, affirming.
“It’s been so tense lately…” Crunchy Chip angles further, tilts his jaw, and seeks his lips. There’s a rumbling in his throat, a snarl through his teeth. “I just wanna’... let go,”
But it is Wildberry who dips down to kiss him.
It’s a long, deep press; of Wildberry’s mouth on his, a flexed palm on the back of his head, craning his neck up just to meet his lips. Their height difference is a bitch to maneuver, but it’s so damn worth it, every time. Instinctively, Chip clenches his hands into Wildberry’s hip, but it’s so familiar he forgets to flinch. Their teeth bump clumsily, Crunchy’s canines scrape his lip, so Wildberry licks into his mouth and traces the prongs of his teeth.
Crunchy Chip squirms, he isn’t sure what to do with himself. They’ve done this on every feasible surface of their joint chambers - and every time he’s left dazed and breathless, suddenly aware of his… lacking in experience. But Wildberry doesn’t mind.
They part for air, the sudden obligation for oxygen catches him off guard. Crunchy mumbles fuck into the seam of his lip, and feels himself harden beneath Wildberry’s hold.
“We can move,” Wildberry offers, right up to his ear. That deep, baritone voice just makes his cock fuckin’ weep—
“I already switched the bedsheets today,”
How inconvenient. Though terribly sweet. Wildberry glances over the tub - they’d totally soak the floor, but Chip is staring pointedly at his hardening cock, his eyes big like a dog before a new toy, “...You really want this here?”
Crunchy hums, going mhm deep in his throat. It’s a rough, carnal noise that makes the blood boil beneath his skin. “I want you. Right now,”
“You’ll get water everywhere,”
“I’ll clean it. It’s my turn, anyway,” Huh. He actually remembered. “Do you want to? It’s cool if you don’t,”
Wildberry flushes to his ears. Not exactly smiling, but his dimples show, and it makes the captain’s heart swell. A sickly pride in being one of the few to see him like this.
“Yes, of course I do,”
Crunchy Chip grins, flashing his pointed teeth, then leans over his shoulder to snatch a bottle of conditioner, “I’ve already cleaned inside,”
“Are you sure? It’s been a while since you…”
“Took you?”
“I was going to say received,”
“ Flowery bullshit,” Chip flicks the cap off impatiently, then takes the liberty of slipping into his lap, knees locked to his hips. The water laps and sloshes from the sudden movement, “ I’ll be alright,”
“Won’t Caramel Arrow be upset-”
“Cara can suck it ,” Crunchy hisses, then cups Wildberry fully, thumbing his slit with his forefingers wrapped around his cock tight. Wildberry squeaks, and his grip loosens. “I am pent up, horny, and I really wanna ride you,”
Wildberry nearly cums on the spot.
He doesn’t - because Chip wouldn’t let him live it down.
Crunchy Chip strokes him unevenly, in short, jerky motions. His palms are significantly smaller and Wildberry’s dick is a monster of a thing, but he manages, acutely aware of the water rolling down his biceps and streaking his chest. Wildberry’s muscles flex when he heaves, and vaguely, he registers the conditioner smeared onto his length. The water is slick and Chip slips thrice, but he sets a pace Wildberry seems to agree with.
His lover is hardly vocal, but Chip doesn’t mind. He’s satisfied with the sharp stutters in his breath and the grunt when he wipes their makeshift lube onto his tip. Wildberry’s voice catches on a gasp, then breaks off into a cuss when those hands retract, his cock left thick and heavy between his thighs.
He registers the stiffness, the heat, then Crunchy is grabbing at his length again and lifts himself to press the head to his sodden hole. Manhandling his sensitive cock like a toy to get himself off, his personal pretty dildo - it really shouldn’t be as appealing as it is.
Then Crunchy Chip sinks down, and it’s goddamn ecstasy. He knows he can’t take it all at once, but he’s a stubborn fucker and simultaneously wants Wildberry more than anything. Fucking up into him, chest to his own, strong arms holding him through it. He knows exactly what he wants, and takes a few more inches than he should.
Training is gonna suck ass tomorrow and Cara is so gonna get on his case, but he doesn’t care.
Wildberry strangles a moan in surprise. It’s quiet, but Chip holds his breath just to hear him. He tries to preserve the moment, but the blunt of Wildberry’s nails dig into his thighs, and it’s hard to think at all.
“Wildberry. Wildberry,” Chip rasps. He’s stationary near his base, but he can’t fall fully. He’s so close, and it’s so much.
Then Wildberry rocks into him, and he goes slack.
“ Shhit!” He digs into the meat of Wildberry’s shoulders, clinging to him and knocking his head back. Water spills over the edge of the tub and onto the tiled floor, but Chip doesn’t even notice, not with his boyfriend balls-deep inside him and rolling his hips up. “Oh- fucking - Divine on a stick —!”
“C-Chip, wait, the neighbors-“
He tries not to rush it. Really, really tries. To bask in the moment and appreciate the intimacy. But he’s rutting Wildberry deeper, grinding into his pelvis, fucking himself on his cock. Water splashes against his skin, laps against the tub and slicks the process. He’s used to participating like this, taking what he wants from his whimpering boyfriend, but it gets him good every time.
It brings forth a sense of personal, vice pride in the captain, to hold such a figure in the palm of his hand. Wildberry’s so much taller, so much bigger, he could have him any which way if he wanted to - but he doesn’t. He lays there, back pressed into the tub with his lip caught in his teeth, and groans.
And, god, oh god, he’s close. Teetering on the cusp of cumming, Crunchy Chip grapples onto his shoulders and lifts himself again, hoisting his trembling weight up before he can sink right back down. Instinctively, Wildberry’s palms find his hips, but Chip swats them away. Like this, he isn’t sure what to do with himself.
Then Crunchy lowers himself, nosing the base of his neck, mouth pressed to his clavicle. Growling something dumbly about how good he feels, how big he is, scraping his teeth against skin and feeling him quake. Another full-body shudder, a hitch in his breath, then Chip goes “ Oh, that’s so fucking cute,” and time stops.
His orgasm catches him off guard - the buildup was there, but it hits before he can register it, and he cums hard. He keens, his composure cracks and shatters into pieces, squeezing Crunchy tight like a lifeline. Wildberry screws his eyes shut and grits, embarrassed, but Chip lets him ride it out. Allows his hips to buck up into him, toes curling tight by the end of the tub, his brows knitted and jaw ticked. He goes tense, then releases inside him.
“ Hey, bro —er, babe. Stay with me here,”
Wildberry blinks away the white, the fuzzy feeling in his bones, the afterglow. Crunchy nudges him for a kiss, then clenches around him so he doesn’t go soft, “M-My apologies…”
“Nah,” He grumbles , rolling his hips around Wildberry’s length, “You got one more in you, yeah?”
“…yeah,”