Define (More Than Something)
nsfw, heavy angst that eventually turns into something sweet, argument, established relationship, self-doubt, work relationship, hurt/comfort, drunk mc, xavier although mad still willing to do whatever for mc, drunk confessions, drunk neck kissing, sober xavier, drunk mc, light dom xavier, smut, morning sex, overstim, oral receiving
⋆˚࿔ credit: @.uzmacchiato for the star divider; @.anitalerina for the animated divider
"What does it matter if they know?" Xavier raised his voice slightly to cut you off from your pestering questions. His usual cool monotone had festered into a voice brimming with anguish despite trying his best to conceal the crack of passion. Embarrassment enveloped him as his c"What does it matter if they know?" Xavier raised his voice slightly to cut you off from your pestering questions. ompunctious words had stood still in the air–he was foolish to question your given fears. But, god, he felt like sometimes he couldn't hold back his immense feelings. Xavier wanted to shout it out on rooftops, make sure every single star could hear him, yet he couldn't even tell his own co-workers. Xavier knew very well why you wanted it kept secret–to weave through the workplace without your actions being questioned by not only hunters, but even supervisors.
Nevertheless, when a co-worker attempted to set Xavier up on a blind date with her sister, a deep feeling twinged in your heart–you knew he'd say no, knew he'd dismiss her offer even if she'd ask a million times, yet you'd badger him throughout your evening about the awkward encounter.
Was she cute? Did you tell her you were taken? You don't think she would assume you were dating someone in the office, right? I mean, that would be ridiculous, wouldn't it?
Your final comment had really set his ears on fire, ridiculous, the conceptualization of a relationship past co-workers between you both didn't seem impossible. You hung out every day, had lunch together whenever you were free, and exclusively went on overnight missions together. It would be quite obvious to your co-workers that Xavier, at the very least, had a crush on you. Hunters, who may not look like they have the time to gossip, would whisper each time Xavier and you would interact. He would even get winks from older supervisors as a sign of motivation, a dozen two-person offers to events and restaurants. Ridiculous was an insult–he wore his heart on his sleeve; it would take a person with not a single one of the five senses to deny your connection.
"Xavi," you tried to call his name, but the sultry tone had brewed a terrible case of compassion. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell," he replied timidly, turning his body away from the island and digging his hands into the pile of dishes accumulated from dinner. The cold water released the heat that had brewed in his palms throughout the night, the scrubbing with the sponge releasing the physical frustration he was starting to acquire.
"I'm not embarrassed by you… by our relationship," you declared as you stood up from the stool, approaching him from behind slowly, "I know, I know." Xavier knew to just let it go, let the feeling pass him–there would come a day when there would be no way of denying it. Just stay patient.
The guilt wasn't easy to carry–you'd love to tell everyone about your wonderful boyfriend who'd stop at nothing for your well-being. Yes, despite it all, you didn't want people to undermine your own accomplishments. Accolades on medals on trophies, your hard work wasn't something that you'd just say or get complimented on– you were loved by dozens. Not on your personality, god no, but your endurance, your heavy workload, most importantly, the ability to weave out distractions.
Love, a chance to experience a longing you had from when you were young, where you missed out on the first elementary love or perhaps the aching high school break-up. Peers claimed you "lucked out," got to get out scot-free of the emotional baggage of finding a partner. Nonetheless, you were bitter–if you were to die tomorrow, your tombstone would probably read "pretty good with a sword," nothing more, nothing less. It was gut-wrenching to lead a life of accomplishments and joy with not a single person to share it with. Xavier, he was more than a gift from the multitude of shooting stars you had whispered over, quietly hoping someone who'd understand would somehow land with the small rock.
Xavier was the star who landed, the very first one to land. The idea of having a boyfriend, great, perfect even. But your boyfriend, your coworker, eyes you haven't even considered would be on you, mouths would twist and turn on just a touch of your shoulder. Your wish was simple: to love without others, to yearn unconditionally without the negative opinions of a peer you barely knew. It was self-serving, but Xavier was yours, and you wanted it to stay that way.
He'd finish the rest of the dishes in silence, making sure to not set his tongue in motion with any ill intent. You decided to move on from behind him, rest on the couch, and watch whatever you both left playing on the tv. Honestly, you felt like shit—your explanations, your reasons, they were pale to what Xavier meant to you.
A few minutes later, Xavier rests next to you on the couch, sliding his arm underneath your head and placing a kiss on your head. The argument had ended, he'd move on, be thankful that you're even with him. His sentiment would still lie on your mind for the rest of the night, pressing anxiety into your dreams.
Xavier had not spoken a word the entire day, still managing to complete paperwork and brush past your desk. You'd secretly stir some excitement on the approach of the silver hair over your cubicle wall–straightening your back and scanning the left opening to catch a glimpse of him. However, as much as you'd exchange glances, he'd pass by you with no response, only on the way to something else, never to you. The heated exchange you had with him last night was still eating at you–even with his apology, his energy felt different. Xavier wasn't a man of many words, but his presence still spoke for itself.
The association's employee dinner is on the 3rd Friday of every month to connect and recognize the leading hunters, giving staff a chance to unwind from the stressful workday. Everyone in the office gathered in front of the elevators. Xavier made sure to huddle up next to you as more coworkers shuffled into the hallway. He issues a smile, making sure to nod his head–you shouldn't feel any sort of relief; there was still a massive weight that lay heavy on your steel heart.
"All right! Everyone's here, let's get a move on."
Xavier would silently walk with you, looking incredibly unbothered, even making the effort to save a seat for you after you retreated to the restaurant's restroom.
The complimentary drinks came as normal, just a few sips, never enough to make you sloppy. However, when a few others started up a competition, your demeanor faltered, and a deep competitive spirit overtook you. Three shots, maybe five, you were ready to win the high praises of the Hunter's Association.
Another shot had come your way, yet as you went to push yourself up, the heavy weight of gravity pulled you back onto the stool. Xavier's hand catches you before you fall, pushing you back to an upright position. He rises and accepts the shot from your coworker, bowing his head to his senior before downing the elixir for you.
"Xavier, I never took you for a drinker," an employee yells out from across the table, and a few others begin cheering. Xavier gently smiles as the blush spreads across his face out of embarrassment. He gets all shy whenever he receives compliments, always trying to avoid eye contact or cover the smile that spreads across his face, cute. He reaches for the jug of water, filling the cup to the brim–subtly resting it in front of you before continuing to gnaw on his food. You couldn't decipher if it was all the alcohol in your system, or maybe it was just Xavier and his stupid polite gestures, you instinctively wrap your arms around his shoulders. Taking in a deep breath to soak up his scent, feel his warmth seep into your chilled skin, and snuggle your face deeper into his neck.
"I missed you," you whine.
"You must have me mistaken," Xavier replies, before coughing louder than normal, hoping you'd snap out of the drunken daze and stick right back up. When he turns his head to the other half of the table, he notices everyone's eyes are drawn to the scene. Xavier was still for a moment, running the various scenarios in his head of what the appropriate action would be in this very moment. He wanted to respect your wishes, but obviously, your touchy hands and even chattier mouth were making his mission times more difficult.
"We're just neighbors," he assures everyone, almost like he was trying to assure himself of the status of the relationship. Xavier kept his hands to his thighs, rapidly blinking to avoid your gaze.
"Mmm, my sweet Xavi," don't say another word, please. "Sleep over again, will you?" fuck, "—the apartment feels… empty." With the final words of your proclamation, Xavier felt tongue-tied. No, more than that–his body felt like it was stuck in the seated position. How do I twist this story?
"Our- I mean, her, her cat's name is Xavi," he's obviously scrambling. Hushed conversations overwhelm the table, a few people beginning to point and side-eye you both. It was like a big game of telephone–those who didn't hear or see would ultimately know in a matter of seconds. Of course, they would never make the effort to hide their reactions–immediately take the opportunity to glance at the couple dozens had bets on.
Still, his sweet smell, an intense craving overwhelming your senses–it was all you could ask for. The desire was fomenting–you need to be closer, feel your bodies mesh into one. You couldn't describe it, seeing his adam's apple bob from his nervous gulp and the various nerves on his neck bulge–you felt like a beast monitoring the rabbit gallop throughout the forest opening. Waiting patiently to pounce and sink your teeth into the doe-eyed animal.
You place a small kiss on his neck, taking the liberty to ascend past his neck and press the color of your lip gloss to his jaw. His face would become riddled with deep color, his cheeks pink again from your sweet gestures. "You don't miss me?" You'd ask, whispering in his ear, proving your effect–you could feel his body shudder at the sweet question.
If it were up to Xavier, he would return your gestures ten-fold in front of everyone, but, with the conversation, with your worries, with you drunk, he couldn't even bring himself to confess to the crowd of coworkers trying to ignore the scene. It wasn't his place.
"I will take her home now," Xavier smiles at the members in front of you, before helping you to get on your feet. You'd continue to murmur compliments under your breath with your body slouched as you barely carry your legs in front of one another. Xavier's eyes were careful, trying to keep his focus on your balance as you both roamed the streets in search of a taxi.
The sweet chill of spring flowed into the busy street, causing you a slight shiver to pass through your body. Xavier immediately takes note, removing his jacket to drape over you and smoothing his hands over your cold shoulder. A wave of guilt washes over you, hearing his caring tone repeat "watch your step" or "be careful."
It doesn't take long for him to find an empty bench, resting you against the wood. He stoops down into a crouched position, moving your hands to your thighs and properly placing the jacket. "Keep still and wait for me, my love. Don't touch the bench, I'm scared you'll get a splinter." He caresses your face tenderly, watching you nod to him. It isn't long before his perfect face turns into a blob, your eyes brimming with water before the tears begin to flow. "I'm just so… unfair to you," you huff out as the snot wells in your nose. You try to breathe in the air, but it's just become so damn stuffy–your mouth gasps for air before immediately releasing the wails of your guilt.
"Hey, hey," Xavier retreats to your side, pushing you into his embrace. His overwhelming care, his warmth, his long arms, it was making the dim feeling worse. His overwhelming kindness, the sweet tone, his soft fingers–he was basically taxing you with interest too high for you to return.
"What is making you say this?" Hitching with sobs, you try to muster up a reply, but before you can get anything out, "Is this about yesterday?" You raise your head to nod, streams of tears falling past your neck and seeping into the collar of your shirt. "Oh, darling," he whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your brow. "Why would you ever be worried about that, hm?" Xavier pats your back to a slow rhythm, taking the time to wipe the tears off your face as your sobs soften.
'I… I should hick get over it," you shake your head, "—I'm sorry, sorry for making you—"
"Hey, you don't have to do anything you don't want to." Of course, Xavier was assuring you, because he's so goddamn considerate. It's frustrating knowing you'd force him into a terrible case of exclusivity. You wanted him to be mad, make a fuss over not being able to go out to a restaurant in your area, or keep a picture of you by his desk.
"Xavier, I know you're miserable," he twists his lips quizzically. "Don't you feel… " You ball his shirt into your fists, curling all your strength into your fists before releasing them, "—angry at me?" Your eyes are glued to his lap, awaiting his reply–you were regretful of your words already, ashamed of the scene you made in public.
"How could I ever be angry with you?" Xavier slides his finger across your cheek once more, taking in the sight of your teary eyes and the dried stains left on your face. "Your boundaries… it's not something for me to stay angry with. I would wait millenniums if that's what you wanted." You giggled a bit, his hand feeling the rise of your cheeks. "A millennium, really?" You looked to him accusingly of his claim, the anxious boy could barely wait for his water to boil. "Hopefully you won't make me wait that long, but–" he delicately pressed his lips onto your cheek before whispering, "–for you, I'd wait forever."
"Now, stay here so I can call us a taxi home." Xavier untangles from the embrace he held you in, the chilled wind emphasizing his disappearance. He'd catch the next vehicle that approached, immediately rushing back to you and scooping you off the bench before placing you gently in the back seat. He'd rush to the other car door and smush himself next to you despite the ample space. Xavier's hand would find yours as the other one stroked at your hair, the deep hues of his eyes fixated on your face. He'd wonder if the furrow of your brow meant you'd throw up in the taxi, maybe the flutter of your lash meant you were holding back a tear.
"Excuse me, do you think you can roll down the window? That- that's good, thanks." The ride home was quiet; the ambient sounds of the city at night would consume your ears. The previous pit in your stomach had subtly gone away as if some sort of inner peace had reached you, putting the anxiety you had panicked about for months to rest.
The warm sun would touch your skin, descending from your headboard down to your face, nudging you awake with its brightness. Xavier's arms wrapped around you, his body pressed into your back as he silently breathed through his sleep. You try to remove yourself, hoping you wouldn't wake sleeping beauty himself from his rest, but as soon as you move the subtle inch, he begins to mumble out the syllables of your name.
"Where?" Xavier asks, the low pitch of his morning voice sweeps through the room, causing your heart to skip just the slightest beat.
"Where am I going?" You finish his sentence, looking back at the light color of his eyelashes illuminated by the sun.
"Mmm yeah… come back." With his eyes still closed, his hand dances around the empty sheet before finally catching your arm. Without time to resist, Xavier pulled you to him, capturing you again in his embrace and securing his head on top of yours. The warmth from his body softens your struggle, loosening your limbs. You instinctively nuzzle into his chest, his arm strength increasing as he hums sweet appraisal.
"Xavier?" Delicate hands comb them over his chest, trying to relieve the swelling nerves.
"Darling?" You could tell with the sort of niche squeakiness of his voice that he was smiling from ear to ear. Fully satisfied with the position he had trapped you in, as the sun would begin to envelop the room fully.
"I think… I was thinking," correcting the tense of your words. You gulp, hoping to salivate the dryness of your throat and finish the sentence. "On Monday… is it okay if we walk in together?"
Xavier's eyes shot open, looking to you in his arms, and you awkwardly smiled, hoping he would get the hint. "Yeah, yeah, of course, I'd be happy to walk with you."
"I know it's not exactly satisfying your full wish-"
Xavier captures your lips, his hands tangling in your hair as he deepens your kiss, consumed by desire. "All my wishes have come true… you, you're my only wish." The sweet whisper of adoration would only intensify the despair. His hand slid down to your neck, brushing his lips against yours. The next kiss was firm, his tongue set on exploring your mouth as your chest began to heave from the mess of fluttering in your stomach.
Xavier was fully awake now, moving his broad figure on top of you. Both arms rested on your side as his fiery lips began their descent down your neck, continuing their path of destruction. The sensitivity would ripple through your chest, begging tiny whimpers from your mouth.
"Xavi," you can only whisper half his name before you interrupt yourself, shutting your eyes from the pleasure. Xavier's hands would seek the bottom of your tank top, slithering underneath it and brushing his fingers against your nipple.
His lips would separate from you for a moment, blue eyes fixated on yours as he'd strengthen his grasp on your midriff. Xavier's careful movements were beginning to bite at your exterior–you wanted him to continue, move deeper into the intimate moment.
"May I…" Xavier breathed out, trying to hold control of his overwhelming hunger. His sentence was incomplete, and with the way your head was reeling, you could barely comprehend the two words. The stuffy heat of your bodies meshing had stiffened the air, ruining your ability to think clearly. All you could focus on was how close he was in proximity to you, how the short hairs of his skin would brush you. You'd continue to gasp for air as he awaited your reply, finally realizing Xavier was waiting for your consent.
With a slow nod of your head, Xavier moves down further this time, gently placing pecks down your stomach. His eager hands find the band of your shorts, wasting no time to slide the cotton material off of you. The way the rising sun reflected off of you was breathtaking; the excited yet needy haze reflected in your eyes had stirred in his chest. He took a moment to just stare, make some attempt at capturing a mental picture of you in the moment, and hope he'd return to it whenever he missed you.
Xavier cracked a smile, humming softly before feeling the dampness of your underwear. "Someone's eager," he teased. Despite holding your ground for the most part, the less-than-two-minute interaction had completely chewed through you. Your hips writhed, your chest tightened, and your palm endured the intense dig of your nails–your desperation couldn't be more obvious.
Xavier slides his finger against the damp spot of your underwear before removing them. Nose brushing against your sensitive clit, causing your body to involuntarily shudder from the contact. He kisses the inside of your thigh, trailing up further as your stomach welled into a knot. "Can't even wait for me to get a taste, my star." A devilish grin appears on Xavier's face before his tongue begins to taste your sweet secretion. His tongue would hit every sweet spot, slither up and down against your clit. Intensity pushing your head through circles, barely registering your surroundings or how loud you were being.
The desperate look on your face made him more determined to pull the orgasm out of you. Xavier's hand would find its way to your breast, gently caressing before pinching at the nipple. A strangled groan would ripple through the room; you were sure the entirety of Linkon had heard you. "Xavi, you can't-" the sentence bore the difficulty of finishing before the pleasure washed over you. Your hands gripped the gray strands of his hair as your head whipped back into the pillow. Both his hands would tighten around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he'd begin to slobber your slick all over his chin.
"Xavi, I've already-" another moan rang in his ears as his tongue swiped faster than it had before. The pleasure paralyzes your body as he toys with you. Xavier finally paused, kissing around your clit and nibbling the inside of your thigh.
"Sorry, it's just," he expresses in a low voice, crawling up to your face. He takes a moment to pause before finishing his sentence, "You looked so gorgeous in the sun like that." His nonchalant way of expressing his perverse thoughts had dissolved the previous orgasm, ruined the zen of a post-orgasm torture. Xavier had not even the slightest clue how the last few syllables had reignited the immense heat.
It wouldn't stop there, pulling himself up once more to kiss you. You smooth your fingers over his bare face, your body twisting and turning–silently begging for more. The greed took over every thought, distracting you from the subtle shift in position.
Suddenly, you found yourself straddling his lower half, passionately running your hands over his jaw, smothering your lips over his, barely taking time to think of what would come next. Xavier's hands stretch over to the nightstand's drawer, still managing to reciprocate the dozens of kisses you'd shared. After a few seconds of rummaging in the drawer, his hand catches the condom. "Star, just wait… a moment." He rips the package open with his teeth, taking time to unveil the blushed tip of cock, twitching in anticipation. He combs the condom over his length, making sure to catch your eyes as he reaches the base.
You position yourself over him, wrapping your arms around your neck before slowly sinking yourself onto his cock. His head bows in defeat, his silver hair brushing the bare skin of your chest as he whines into your chest. "Xavi, you ready?" Your sweet tone, it was driving him crazy. You could feel the heat from his skin burn under your cool fingers, notice the slight heave of his chest as your hips would grind.
"Slow… ngh, too slow," Xavier whispers, his hand combing over your butt to have a full grasp of your waist. "Huh, say it again," you respond, keeping slight composure while having a few moans slip out. "Need… I need more." He whines out like a puppy asking for a treat, barely audible to your ears.
Listening to his request, you become more aggressive, hastening your pace as you continue to ride him. His muscles begin to tremble, nails digging into your waist as his hips buck up. Hearing the way your bodies would continue to slap against one another would procure the intensifying climax building in your core.
You could barely register your lack of riding as Xavier would make up for it by ravishly pumping his cock into you. His hunger could no longer be hidden under the guise of innocence, as his coherent words would begin to turn into whispers of an entirely different language.
"Xavi… I'm gonna," before you can finish your sentence, his lips find yours. Quickening the pace and intertwining his fingers with yours. With one final thrust, a cracked moan would fall from your lips, your body becoming limp from pleasure. Xavier wraps you in his embrace before gently resting you on the sheets, kissing your temple and caressing you sweetly.
"Thank you," Xavier muttered under his breath, pushing the hair from your face, "—you didn't have to do this." You shake your head, hands combing over his jaw, "I want to, Xavi."
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