#djarrex writes

Rex readjusted the strap of the duffle bag, heavy with the entirety of his kit packed in there, so it could sit more comfortably on his shoulder as his fingers input your keycode with automaticity. The door slid open and the smell of the seasonal air freshener you favored greeted him almost instantly, along with the soft, warm glow of the lights hanging around the space. Stepping fully inside, Rex looked around and silently marveled at the decorations you’d strung up in his absence. You wanted it to be a surprise for him – and a surprise it surely was. Festive floral arrangements and seasonal colors were bathed in the lights that twinkled in blown glass orbs all around, and Rex couldn’t help but shake his head with a grin at the image of you standing on furniture of questionable integrity to get everything set to where it all hung now. 

Life Day was a favorite of yours. You always spoke of how beautifully intriguing the Wookiee holiday was, how it celebrated joy and harmony amongst family and friends. It was something you looked forward to every year, and when you’d told Rex that you traditionally decorated for it, he’d been eager on a high that came from your endearing childlike wonder and excitement to see what you had in store.

Seeing all of this, the effort you’d put into it, made him all the more thrilled for the traditional meal you would prepare tomorrow evening.

Since you hadn’t yet greeted him, you must have been asleep – of course you were. It was late, and Rex had explained to you earlier, when he’d first gotten back in the system, that he’d be getting in at an odd hour. 

But you still kept all the lights on for him.

When he cautiously stepped beyond the threshold into your room, he smiled. A domestic warmth filled his chest at the sight of you wrapped up in your thickest blankets, fetally curled up on your side as you almost always were. 

Rex gently set down the duffle bag against the wall. He started to pull off his boots, then set the pair down just beside the rest of his kit. His undershirt and pants were removed next, leaving him in his compression briefs. Normally, Rex would have hopped in your shower to freshen up before changing into a pair of casual lounge clothes you kept for him in the closet, but this time, knowing he’d be getting in so late, Rex had showered at the barracks instead, and came over in a clean undersuit. 

He didn’t want to have to prolong getting into bed with you after catching a glimpse, and at this moment, as Rex started to stealthily situate himself under the blankets, he thanked the universe that he had ended up showering beforehand. 

You shuffled a bit at his presence, but that was about it. Rex tried not to wake you as he scooched closer, curling on his side and gently wrapping his arms around you, fitting against you like a puzzle piece. He could feel that you were not wearing much clothing; just a thin, low cut top, your ‘sleep’ panties, and a pair of fuzzy socks. He knew your bedtime attire well. You’d once told him that you weren’t trying to be sexy, just comfortable, but Rex thought that was what made you even more attractive to him. 

He rested his chin on your back and listened to the melodic sound of your leveled breaths. Rex wanted to be selfish here – he wanted to lavish you with kisses and touches and to show you how much he missed you. It started as a gentle tap of his lips against the back of your neck, but once the feel of your skin met his lips, Rex couldn't help himself. He kissed all along where he could reach: your neck, between your shoulders, your cheek. He couldn’t help himself – not when his kisses became a little sloppier, or when his hand started to caress your arm then thigh. 

“Rex,” you practically moaned his name right out of your slumber, your voice soft and content. 

He missed you, your voice, your body. His briefs were noticeably tighter. He wanted more.

“I didn’t want to wake you, love” he cooed in your ear, lustfully apologetic. “But I want you.” 

Rex took your earlobe between his teeth, teasing it with his tongue. You moaned aloud, a quiet, alluring sound, arching yourself further into his body. He couldn't help but grind himself against your rear, just to relieve some of the swell of need.

When he released your lobe, he didn’t inch away. It was impossible to stop now, not when he’d been waiting for far too long, not when he bore witness to your thoughtful decorating. He’d discovered a while ago that domesticity fueled his desire, and when it came to you, Rex was always smitten.

He took a ragged breath, feeling the heat of your body pressing into him. He needed it, needed you.

“Can I have you, baby? Please. I’ll– I’ll do everything.” 

Another shaky breath was exhaled in your ear when you weakly reached around to pull your panties just far enough down, grazing his cock straining in his briefs with the gesture. Rex bit his lip. Closed his eyes. 

“Let me have you.”

You audibly sighed, a dreamy, sweet sound. “Please.” 

Your voice, still airy with sleep, put Rex into a frenzy. With your go-ahead, he wasted no time with releasing himself from the constricting material, and threw his leg over yours. He let his own, low noises fall freely as he used the wetness between your legs to slick himself up.

“So wet for me,” he commented. There was a note of surprise there. The revelation made him throb. “Need you so bad.”

Entering you slowly, Rex kissed along the back of your neck. Gasped against your skin when he filled you, his groin flush with your skin. You remained still, though he could already feel the desire perspiring as dew on your skin. He could stay inside you for hours, fall asleep like this, awaken like this. The grip you had on his cock was undoing, and when your cunt started to clench with an involuntary need, he started to move.

Rex was gentle. Tender. He rocked himself into you softly, not wanting to disturb you any more than he already had. You were awake, yes, but you were comfortable, still in the position that he’d awoken you in. 

As he moved his hips, rolling them at a crawl, his fingers slid up and under your top. Grazed your breast, the hardened nipple. You moaned at that. Clenched around him.

“Fuck, mesh’la.” Rex sighed, and dragged the flat of his teeth against the curve of your shoulder. “You feel so good.”

He soon felt your own hand join his. Fingers threaded through his own. 

Rex kept a steady pace, rutting against the soft skin of your ass. He felt the heat in his abdomen, the squeeze of his balls. He’d come soon, but wanted to feel you reach climax with him.

As if reading his mind, even in your somnolent state, you guided his hand from your chest. Dragged it down your torso and Rex knew what would get you there. Two, roughly padded fingers circled your clit, and the effect the added stimulation had on you was practically instant. Your breaths hitched, the pitch higher. Whines fell from your lips, and Rex could barely move anymore with how hard your cunt clenched around him. His thighs tensed.

He came with you, his arm holding you tight against his torso to press himself all the way. Your tired body shivered as he filled you, hot and wet, his release mixing with your creamy fluid.

Tacky with sweat, Rex eventually peeled himself from your skin. Slipped wetly out of you. A hidden little mess was left in his wake. 

A man of his word, he took care of everything. Retrieved something to clean you off with so you wouldn’t have to move a pretty little muscle. He then went to turn off all the lights until the entirety of your place fell into darkness. Made sure to duck under a particularly low hanging string of lights on his way back.

Rex rejoined you in bed, his body curved snugly around you. You hardly stirred. 

“The decorations are beautiful,” he murmured into the soft space between your shoulder blades. Pressed a kiss there. Completely, irrevocably enamored by you. “You’re incredible.”

After being on shift all day, Steb enters your home and walks toward you, peeling off his beret and setting it down on the counter. His duffle bag slides off his shoulders and plops unceremoniously to the floor, and just like always, he greets you with a kiss while wrapped in his arms.

“I've filled the tub.” You tilt your head to the side, and he hums in acknowledgement. One of Steb’s favorite ways to decompress after a shift is to take a nice soak, to sit relaxed while temperate waters work to rehydrate and regulate himself. His appreciation is displayed with how his features soften at the sight of you, the longer, drawn-out and thoughtful hum he emits.

“Hungry?” you ask sweetly enough, your hands delicately running from his exposed neck down the thick uniform fabric and metal accents covering his arms. Your hands find his gloved ones, intertwining your fingers. You feel him start to melt into it. “I can start on dinner while you soak for a bit. Recharge.”

You go to pull away, but Steb’s fingers tighten around yours. You raise a curious brow, but your impending inquiry dies on your tongue once you register the look in his icy eyes followed by the subtle nudge of his head toward the direction of the bathroom. 

Join me. 

A knowing smile forms on his lips upon your wordless understanding. You peck him on the lips, and squeeze his hand tighter. 

Steb guides you into the bathroom. The two of you begin to shed each other of your clothing, working at buttons and fastenings, peeling off a layer at a time. As more layers are removed until he's standing bare in front of you, you shamelessly ogle at him. The sight of his body never fails to make your heart skip a beat. Fins and wispy frills protrude from the blue-green hues that color his skin. Stripes of darker shades stretch from his brows and disappear beneath thick, slicked back hair of a heavier shade of teal; the same patterns crawl down the back of his neck, his thighs and abdomen, while symmetrical blotches of scales pepper the planes of his biceps and down his forearms.

You trace a finger along his lithe abdomen, the thinnest sheen of film barely collecting underneath your nail. Your palm rests between his pectorals and Steb’s chest vibrates at your touch, the short, fanned frills above his cheekbones flickering rhythmically.

You pause to dip your hand in the water, gauging its temperature. It's still pleasantly warm, not too overbearing for Steb. 

“Long day?”

His ears flicker backward and his eyelids blink slowly as he gazes at you, offering a telling dip of his head and twist of his lips. You can feel just how dry his skin is compared to normal, but along with that, the invisible yet imposing weight sits on his shoulders, bending his spine in an almost slumped way, contrast to his usual well-kept posture. Steb works so hard, cares so hard, and even though the war ended, things are still taking a toll on him. 

Reassuring him with a smile, you cup his chin and run the pad of your thumb just below his pout, playfully pulling down his bottom lip. “Let’s get you into the tub, handsome.”

Steb’s eyes light up at the praise, then his pupils darken among the sea of glacier blue just as quickly. You take his hand and walk with him to the edge of the elongated basin, and being the gentleman that he is, Steb guides you into the water first. You scoot away from the wall of it, leaving room as he takes his place behind you. His long legs stretch out as much as they can on either side of you–leaving just a slight bend in his knees–his hands pulling at your shoulders to urge you backward. Your head rests against his shoulder, your nose inhaling his natural scent of what you always describe to him as the earthy undertones of lush vegetation growing along a riverbank.

“Better?” you ask him with a tilt of your head upward to see his face. Steb looks down at you with a content, calming gaze, and you get lost in the subtle ombre of orange and pink that colors his external eyelids and the contours of his nasal bridge. He clocks your lingering stare, and huffs a chuckle. 

Your hands find themselves running up and down his thighs, pushing into the muscles to ease some tension. The massage elicits a low dragging hum, and you continue, pressing yourself even further back into him to reach higher up near his hips.

Steb wants to return the favor. He always does.

His skilled, precise hands work at your shoulders just before they curve up to your neck, kneading your muscles with the right amount of pressure to make you reciprocate with a similar sound of your own. Medically trained, Steb knows exactly what spots to hit and how hard to hit them.

“That feels so good.”

He hums, and then his hands are moving again – palms now cupping your breasts. Nimble fingers swipe across your pebbled nipples and an unmistakable heat rushes to your core. As he's touching you, you don’t miss the awakening twitch of his cock against your lower back, the feel of the bulbous head curiously poking at you. You bite your lip, looking up to see his reaction; a contrasting rosy tint has since grown across his cheeks and his lips have parted ever so slightly. 

You scoot up just a tad so you can twist your body to face him at an angle, just enough to where you can slide your hand down his tensing abdomen below the water line to grasp at his hardening cock. Always cautious at first with his sensitivity, you watch as the short, delicate frills lining the underside flicker with your touch through the ripples of the water. Steb releases a soft groan from deep in his throat when you close your hand around him and give a few experimental pumps, relishing the way he feels within your palm. When you start to grip a little harder and move a little quicker, his head falls back against the edge of the tub with a comical ‘thud’, and the both of you let out a simultaneous huff of laughter. 

Once he's throbbing and starting to pant, Steb pauses your ministrations with a gentle grasp of your wrist, his eyes signaling what he really wants with a devastatingly soft yet lustful stare. His thumb absently traces the skin on your wrist.

“Is this what you're needing, handsome?”

Normally this look in his eyes–determined with a haze of lust–says enough, but his lips find your ear, the plush of them parting.

“Need you.”

His voice, slightly raspy with what could be explained as disuse or desire–or a pleasant blend of both–never fails to thrill you in the most inexplicable ways. You savor hearing that rich, velvety sound of him formulating his thoughts into words, rare as it may be.

“Have me, Steb. I'm yours.”

You fully turn around to meet him face to face, with his blissfully lustful gaze watching your every move: When you allow him the space to adjust so you're straddling his thighs, and when you take his cock in your hand as you lift yourself with the help of your other hand on his shoulder. He always wants to watch your face as he enters you; it's a high that strokes his kempt ego, knowing he's the one to get you to make those pretty expressions and devastatingly sexy sounds.

Pumping his cock slowly with his natural lubrication sliding under your palm, you recall the time when you'd found out just how heightened Steb's senses can become when he's operating in wetter conditions, whether it's being on shift in the rainfall on an overcast day, or taking a quick reset in the shower. Sharper hearing, crisper eyesight. The way his body reacted to physical touch within this very tub now has a debauched idea popping into your mind. You're intrigued. How much better would sex be for him in water?

Since you’ve been paused in thought, a question mark etches its way onto his expression. Adorable, you mentally note. A sultry smirk pulls at your lips. His cock still in your hand, swollen and leaking from just above the water line, you tease the darkened head with a swipe of your finger along the slit. Steb shivers.

“How long was it that you could stay underwater?”

Eyes blowing wide, he nods eagerly. Adorable, again. If there ever was an inkling of apprehension on his end, it’s unabashedly tossed to the wind. Steb understands exactly what you’re suggesting, and hastily moves toward the center of the tub. He immerses himself into the water, his knees bent behind you. All of the gills on his upper body submerged, you finally lower yourself onto his cock and moan at how he totally fills you. It takes a moment or two, but once you get accustomed to the feeling of him inside of you again, you start to ride him in earnest. You rest your hands on his chest, using his sturdy body to keep up your momentum and effectively keeping him pinned to the bottom of the tub. His crystal eyes are piercing through the rippling water, carefully watching your expressions as you use his body to keep yourself moving, the water softly splashing around you and threatening to spill over the edge. 

Briefly slowing your motions, you remove a palm from his chest to delicately grasp at his chin, a tender gesture that the both of you know well. 

Is this okay? 

Steb takes his hand and encircles your wrist with those deft fingers, bringing it up to rest just above the gills on his jawline and nuzzles into your palm. Tiny air bubbles pop silently on the surface. His eyelids briefly shut. 

I’m fine – feels so good like this – keep going.

He releases your hand then, instead running his own up and down your thighs. You keep your eyes on him as you focus on your angle, aiming to hit that spot that makes you see stars. Steb is beautiful already, but something about the way he looks under the water – skin glistening with an almost luminescent quality, his frills and hair flowing freely, the mesmerizing way his gills pulsate with breaths –  you're fixated.

His freshly-hydrated skin feels all the more smooth against your own, but slippery as well. You start to struggle with keeping yourself perfectly balanced, and when you meet his groin on every downward thrust, you begin gyrating from side to side. Sensing the struggle, Steb taps your wrist and you allow him to emerge from the bottom, water sloshing messily and actually pouring over the edge of the tub. While his head turns to the side to assess the mess, droplets of water trickle tantalizingly down the cords of his neck and chest until they rejoin the source at the waterline at his abdomen.

“Was that okay?”

He looks back at you. Nodding, Steb’s eyes crinkle with a smile. His cock still blissfully impaling you, you're pulled flush against him. Strong arms wrap around you, holding you close. The throbbing deep inside your cunt has you wiggling impatiently, earning you a coy chuckle punctuated by him recapturing your lips for a deep kiss.

He grunts against your lips at that.

“Needy,” he notes, a playful smile curving his own. Before you can protest, Steb jerks his hips, and soon he's moving his body with yours in a crazed dance. His hands run up and down your back, pausing every so often to hold you impossibly closer as you rock into one another, the feeling of his rough fingertips surely leaving imprints in your skin. 

The weight of his breaths–ones that carry whispers of pleasure–tumble down your throat. Your fingers move to brush back his dampened hair, nails scratching his scalp. Every little touch you grace him with, pulls hurt noises and whimpers within the confines of his throat, and you want to hear them over and over again – intoxicated. Leaving his scalp, your fingers continue along the base of his skull, ghosting above the short fins that start to protrude there, and then you move down his neck and back, careful to not roughly scratch the ones that line the length of his spine. The almost liquidy, viscous groan that Steb lets out in response makes you clench around his cock, and just like that, you feel him throb deep inside of you with his release, panting heavily, his body twitching within your arms in the aftermath. 

Steb holds you for a moment longer before untangling his slippery limbs from yours. It takes only seconds for him to scoot you back against the opposite wall of the tub, part your thighs, and easily slip two fingers into your cunt. It isn’t long before he curls them, thrusting his long digits rapidly and determined. 

Your hand smacks against the lip of the tub, and the other quickly darts to grab at his hair.

“Sh-Shit – Steb…”

A cocky smirk and a grunt to match – ears twitching. He feels inebriated when you speak his name in such a way, and it gives him the extra push to work quicker, harder, until you’re a blubbering mess. The water splashes around where his wrist continuously plunges with his motions. The corded muscles in his forearm bulge with exertion. You’re weightless sitting in this tub but every muscle is tense and every nerve feels like a fraying thread. You watch, transfixed, on how his fingers draw in and out of your cunt beneath the water line until you can’t. It’s too much but oddly not even close to being enough. You want to reach that peak. It’s close – you’re close. Your head lulls with the rush of blood and adrenaline, tipping backward.

Steb won’t have that, though.

Suddenly he pulls his fingers from you and out from the water, instead grasping your chin to angle your head back upright. The look in his eyes has a slight bite but lacks any venom – yet you’re instantly sobered all the same. There’s a slight flutter in your core at this side of him. Sometimes even your quiet, caring, selfless Steb can take charge.

Your chin is released once your undivided attention is back on him. The shape of a V made with his index and middle fingers taps once, twice just below his eyes, and the frills on his face flutter in time. The wordless command is one you understand implicitly. 

Eyes on me.

You nod, loyal, eager to revisit where your body was heading before. “Please.”

A softer haze fills the look in his eyes then, satisfied with your compliance as much as it is charming. Even after taking you like this, claiming you with fervor, Steb is still the sweet, gentle man you’ve grown extremely fond of. Your pride swells knowing that you’re the only one to see him, to understand him in ways far beyond what meets the eye. Gratitude swells in your chest. You want to kiss him.

The moment is over when his fingers stuff back into your cunt.

The same devastating pace at which he finger fucks you quickly brings you back to where you wanted to be, just moments before finally tipping over. Only now, you’re looking right at his face, at the way his frills flutter and how his ears involuntarily twitch in response to every sound you make as he focuses solely on the way you’re feeling. His warm yet icy eyes are glued to your own, and somehow meeting them is more lethal than you can anticipate. 

“I’m close–”

Steb leans toward you. You think he’s going to kiss you, to tangle his tongue with yours in an intimate gesture that is like a soothing balm through it all, but–

“Come.”

You were wrong: Hearing Steb’s gruff voice tell you–no, command you–was the most lethal weapon that sent white-hot pleasure searing through every fiber of your being, not just tipping you but launching you over the edge, sending you soaring through your climax. A high-pitched whine tears itself from your throat, pruned toes curling with it. Steb does lean in to kiss you then, doing exactly what you had thought he was going to do before, only moments later. His fingers move slower as you writhe and clench around them. You continuously hum into him, an evident smile shaping his lips.

Everything after that is a blur. At some point, Steb guided you out of the tub, carefully, because the water that had spilt on the floor had been clocked as a safety hazard, somewhere in the throes of it all. You were wrapped in a towel, Steb on his knees as he dried you off with reverence – then carried to bed, clothed with an extra undershirt of his and buried beneath a blanket right beside him. 

Steb adjusts and turns to face you. He runs the pad of his thumb along your bottom lip. 

“ND doesn’t hate you!” She chuckled at that, and opened the side gangway door as Nix jumped back to her shoulders. “I already told you that it just takes him a while to warm up to people. Especially if those people needed their lives saved right out the gate.” Kay winked at you, and you remembered how Kay’s initial relationship with the old commando droid had been rocky as well.

You partially followed Kay as she started to head down the gangway. “I need you to work together on this. I should be back in a few hours,” she called back to you. With a smirk, she then added: “Try to get along until then.”

The gangway door shut and you could almost laugh out of pure disbelief, a heavy sigh blowing out between your clenched teeth. Kay knew just how much ND got under your skin, and if ND had skin, you were positive the feeling would be reciprocated. The droid and you hadn’t been able to get along ever since he’d been forced to save your life just after you’d joined their crew. Months ago now, Kay had run into you on Renpalli Station. You’d been on the run from your former employer and were trying to secure a ride out of the sector. She’d been nice enough to offer you a ticket to freedom, but after those several hours of hyperspace travel–including multiple games of Sabacc, drinks, and shared stories–Kay had offered you a place with their crew. You had certain skills that could be put to use, and Kay had known that, which is what she argued with when reasoning with her droid partner that you would be a useful addition. ND-5 was hesitant, but trusted Kay’s judgment, just as he always had. 

From that moment–the way he’d shaken his head at you while reluctantly agreeing with his partner–you were able to tell it would take a while to prove yourself to the droid. But getting into trouble with the Empire a couple days later really sealed the fate of your relationship with him. Every little thing you did since then had been attempt after attempt to prove yourself to ND-5, that you were worthy of his trust and you were not a liability to the crew, but it still wasn't enough. The dismissive attitude toward you and his overall demeanor when it came to you eventually turned into a sour taste in your mouth, and now, you were just plain bitter. The only friendly interaction you had on the Trailblazer was with Kay or little Nix, but she was always out and about doing her thing with her small companion by her side; which was fine, because she was good at what she did. You were more comfortable hanging back, even if that meant sharing the space with the droid who so blatantly disliked you. You were always able to keep yourself busy, and really the only times you needed to interact with ND-5 was when Kay requested it. Like now. 

“She is still at the workbench,” you heard ND-5’s deep, modulated voice come from the cockpit. He may be a droid, but he sure as hell learned to cadence his speech to appropriately deliver what he was trying to relay. You shook your head and took a centering breath before you made your way into the cockpit. ND was still seated in the co-pilot's seat, as he always was, as he spoke with Kay on the comm. His head slightly turned upon hearing you enter. 

“I’m here, Kay,” you call out, rolling your eyes at the back of the droid’s head. You took a seat in the pilot’s chair, and kicked up your legs, resting them up against the console. “Didn’t you just leave? ND bothering you already?”

“I have narrowed down a few systems that–” ND-5 paused, his head turned in your direction. “Get off of the console.”

“ND,” came Kay’s mock scolding voice. You could picture her facial expression. “Be nice. Now, what were you saying about those systems?”

You tucked your legs onto the seat instead, holding your knees close to your chest and spun back and forth as the conversation carried on. ND and Kay went back and forth about the systems that he’d mapped out without you, and you remained silent for the most part, biting your tongue. Kay disconnected a couple minutes later, but not after tossing out another reminder to get along with one another. 

“So,” you started, dropping your boots into the ground with a thud and resting your elbows against your knees. “I know we told Kay we’d work together on that, but it looks like you already went ahead and did everything yourself instead.”

“Yes,” he told you flatly, clicking away on the datapad held in his long, metal fingers. While you were busy playing with your blaster, I got to work on what was requested.”

“That’s not– Kay had just left!” You practically shouted, but ND didn’t spare you a glance. You sat up straighter. “I know we don’t see eye to eye, and we don’t exactly get along the way crewmates should.” You sighed, trying to calm yourself down. “But I pull my weight, and Kay likes having me here. I made one mistake months ago and I have been trying to prove myself to you but you won’t even let me do that!

ND-5 visibly froze as you stood up, but didn't bother to look toward you. You stepped over to where he was sitting, more words buzzing on your tongue. “And if all this animosity toward me is your way of trying to get me to leave, then you may just get what you wanted. I don’t know what your problem with me is.”

None of the anger died with those last words, but you decided to save your breath and go back to what you’d been doing before – but before you could make it all the way out of the cockpit, ND’s voice arrested you in place.

“Do you really want to know?”

The way it sounded so genuine sobered you, and when you turned around, ND was actually looking at you. It was your turn to be frozen as he stood up, his imposing height towering over you. You felt like shrinking, your chest tightening at the mere way ND was looking down at you. Anxiously, you awaited his next words as you could practically see the gears turning and springs bouncing in his head.

It dawned on you that you’d never stood this close to him before. Strange, you thought, because you do live on the same ship.

“You… are a distraction.”

You narrow your eyes, and swallow hard. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He looked away.

“...Nevermind.”

“ND-5, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You huffed in frustration. “You know what? You’re distracting me from “playing” with my blaster,” you tossed out his own words back at him. “Fuck this.”

You turned to leave the cockpit, but ND’s metal fingers found their place wrapped around your arm. He didn’t yank you, or apply serious pressure as you know he probably could have without even realizing, but the gesture definitely stopped you in your tracks. He had never touched you before, not even with the fabric of his trench coat whenever he would walk by. You couldn’t face ND, too concerned with the way your face heated up at the contact of the cool metal against your skin.

He spoke your name, quietly, and the sound of it made your heart skip a beat.

“I can hear a lot,” he started to elaborate. “My audio sensors can pick up what organic hearing sometimes cannot.” 

You finally turned around, feeling even smaller than before with how close he was to you. ND could probably sense how heated your skin was. You were embarrassed now, too – flames kindling all over your body. Never would you have ever predicted that you’d feel this heated from something other than anger and frustration with ND. A new feeling emerged from somewhere deep within you – a lust that must have crawled its way out. 

Your throat felt dry. This was new. 

“...And?”

“I cannot get the sounds you made out of my memory banks.”

You were in shock. ND-5 could hear you – late at night in the semi-privacy of your little alcove bunk. As quiet as you always were–something you’d always take precautions with–proved to be futile when in the proximity of a droid, one who was actually able to speak to you about it – a droid who was apparently making you feel… desire. 

“I did resent having to save you from those Imps,” he continued. “But I have, unexpectedly, found myself intrigued by you.”

You raised a brow and instinctually bit your lip.

“Oh? Is that the case?”

“Yes. I have often calculated how I could pull those sounds from you myself. That is why you are a distraction.” 

You were still in shock, even more so than before. You could say it all made sense now – why ND kept you at such a distance, why he shut you down with disapproving comments and taking it upon himself to complete tasks solo, rather than working alongside you. You could say it made sense, and maybe this was your way to bridge things with ND, to make things amicable with him for the first time. 

This was never something you’d consider before. There never was an attraction until now and it’s growing rapidly, beyond your control. You figure that all the resentment you harbored for him in retaliation was the catalyst – and now you need to fuck it all out of your system. He’s a droid… but maybe that was a good thing.

“Tell me,” you cautiously prodded. Nerves and the newfound desire fought for the reins. “What, um, calculations have you made?”

He was so close that for the first time you could hear the faintest of whirs in even the smallest of his movements. “This is a surprise,” ND noted with a cadence in his tone to match. “I never calculated that you would inquire about this.”

“Well.” The drive took over, and with the newfound confidence, your palm rested on his cool metal chest, just below the jagged scar. You glanced up. “I am.”

ND froze, as if he were computing his next move. 

Maybe you were making a fool of yourself. It wasn’t like you woke up this morning already pining for the droid, and even now, you weren’t even sure how it would work – but something in the back of your head screamed at you, that ND knew exactly how it would all play out – and that tempted you to your detriment.

“Good,” he said quietly and in a way that meant no backing out now. Raising his arm, ND dragged a finger down your cheek and cradled your jaw. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears. “Get against the console.”

You blinked at him. “I thought you didn’t like it when I–” The wordless stare you were leveled with was enough to jolt you with the realization. A devious, knowing smile grew on your lips. “–Oh.”

“If you are going to be a brat–” His hold on your chin tightened. “–Then this will not continue.”

“C’mon, ND. Admit it.” You sauntered over to the console when he released you, arching your back and presenting yourself. It was cheap, and you felt a little embarrassed by it, but you’d tossed all caution to the wind. “You like it when I talk back, don’t you?”

ND-5 shook his head. “Tell yourself whatever you would like.” 

The sounds that came from his metal feet hitting the ship’s floor never sounded so loud and imposing until now. Each thud against the floor flooded you with more and more anticipation, and if you could really focus, it almost seemed like he was purposefully taking his time making his way over to you. Maybe that was part of it, part of his calculations. Whatever it was, it was working. Your cunt clenched around nothing, and you felt your underwear dampen.

You held your breath until you felt his hands on you, then everything came to a halt. He spoke your name again – entirely too soft and genuine and a huge contrast to the way he’d say your name before today. Your heart skipped another beat, and you turned your head over your shoulder. 

“Are… you sure you want this,” he asked. A check-in. A final confirmation. You could not recall any other time when you’d been asked something like this. You were filled with gratitude, and it blindsided you. You weren’t sure how to respond, but your defensive instinct to rub ND the wrong way was prominent, and it kicked in quickly.

After all, you were pretty good at it. 

“Who knew you could be so considerate?” you teased.

An audible sigh came from behind you. “What did I say about being a brat?”

“Fine.” With a deep breath, and with everything within you screaming for you to give in to this, you nodded your head. “I want this.” You took another breath, and offered up just a little more. “I… need this.”

“Yes, you do.”

From the right you saw him toggle a switch, and the viewport’s transparisteel tinted before your eyes. The outside light still filtered into the cockpit, however the privacy settling ensured nobody on the outside could see in.

ND’s hands were on you again, the length of his fingers closing around your hips. He gripped them, offering up more pressure than he had on your arm before. His hands don’t stay in place long; soon the fingers were sliding down and around your front, pausing again where you were practically throbbing.

“If I alternate between rubbing and applying pressure on and off right… here–” ND told you, his fingers having somehow found your clit even from over your pants, “–You will be making those same noises for me in a matter of moments.”

You grin to yourself. “Try it, then.”

A thoughtful hum is what he offered in response, and just as it was spoken, ND started to slide a single finger between your legs, adding pressure to right where your clit was, and repeated the motions. You were so worked up that it didn’t take long for you to start letting your moans fall freely, giving in to exactly what he had calculated. Even though it was so much, it still somehow wasn't enough, and you couldn't help but start to rock your hips against him, dragging your ass against the cool metal of his body that was caging you in as his hand remained cradled between your legs. 

“You really did need it. Look at you,” he praised. “Keep going. Take it.”

Never had you ever considered just how lethal ND-5’s voice could be. The rich, modulated sound of it shot straight through you. You felt like an exposed nerve, and every little sound and touch was electrifying. It had been far too long since you’d gotten off with a partner – but this – this was something else entirely. You started to sweat from the exertion, and the entirety of your body being clothed became too much. 

“ND,” you breathed out his name and paused your movements, pathetically tugging on your shirt. “Get this off of me.”

“Not yet,” he countered, much to your chagrin. You sighed in frustration and started to undress yourself, but he gripped you tighter. “You were close, weren’t you? Finish first, then I will comply with your request.”

You were much too worked up to argue, but he was right – you were close. Relinquishing yourself again to ND’s process quickly built you right back up to where you’d been before, and with shaky legs, you practically collapsed with the intensity of it all. It was barely several seconds later when his hands disappeared and his heavy footfalls moved from behind you, and when you picked yourself up off the console and turned your head, you saw ND sat right back in his seat, spun to face out. The trench coat he wore was pushed back behind him, giving you clear access to those metal legs. Realization dawned on you once again, and you were partially ashamed to admit to yourself just how eager you’d become. 

“Over here.”

Still clearing the stars from your eyes, you slowly made your way over to him, awaiting instruction. 

“What would you like me to remove?”

“All of it,” you told him in a voice far too breathy. ND cocked his head at that, but obliged. You kicked off your boots, unclasped your holster, and shrugged off your jacket, but ND handled the rest, carefully peeling off your shirt then your pants and tossed them over to the other chair. You stood there in only your bra and underwear, mentally batting away the sudden shyness that threatened to creep up and out. You knew there was a huge wet patch staining your underwear, and ND visibly took note. 

“Very good,” ND praised. It was simple, but enough, and it brought your confidence back. He patted his lap. “Sit.”

That one word turned you into a picture of obedience. You straddled his leg, your sticky and heated skin pleasantly bitten by the metal.  

“What else did you calculate?” You took off your bra then, and threw it to join the rest of your clothes.

“That you would be able to reach orgasm just like this.”

“Like how?” you asked coyly. 

“Hold on to me here,” ND instructed. He directed your hands to rest on his shoulders, the rough material of the trench coat beneath your palms. “Yes. Good.”

“Then?”

ND said your name in warning. You couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“You think this is funny,” ND commented flatly. He pinched your nipple, and it hurt. You yelped in surprise, and he shook his head – displeased. 

“Now take it, or get off of me. We don’t have all day.”

Your jaw dropped at his words, but your grip on him strengthened. “Fuck, okay.”

“You have the mouth of a pirate,” he added.

Leaned back in the seat, ND rested his hands on your hips and kept them there as you dragged your soaked pussy against the hard metal of his leg. You could hold on to ND as hard as you could and you’d break your own fingers before he’d feel a thing, so you used that to your advantage, riding his leg quick and rough while clinging to his shoulders for purchase. His bulk and solid weight made it so that he barely budged while you moved, but the seat squeaked rapidly, and it echoed throughout the cockpit along with your heavy breaths.

“Touch me, ND.”

It was almost comical how he looked down at where his hands were grabbing your rocking hips, then back up at you, like a huge question mark hung in the air above his head.

“Touch me here,” you clarified, guiding his hand to your chest. “Like what you did before, but not so hard.”

“Understood.”

ND took over then, your breasts held within his large fingers. You looked down, savoring the sight of his metal digits bending at the joints as he groped you. You kept rocking against his leg, your clit catching against the fabric of your underwear. Moans and whimpers fell freely from between your lips, and ND just sat there taking it all in as you continued to inch your way toward another orgasm. 

“You’re close again,” ND noted matter-of-factly. “I can tell. The sounds you make get breathier, and higher in pitch.” 

You were too far gone to make any type of comment back, sarcastic or otherwise, but he was right once again. You felt it in your toes, a tingle that shot all the way up your legs and to your chest where his fingers started to experimentally twist and pull at your nipples. It felt so good that you could cry, and after another few moments of the same repeated motions, you did. Tears of pleasure started to stream down your cheeks, and your pussy started to clench uncontrollably against his leg. Your legs quivered and your chest rapidly flexed with your breaths. Almost as if you’d forgotten who you were with, your head fell forward and you rested your cheek against the unscarred surface of his chest as you caught your breath.

ND spoke your name, and you shot up. 

“Sorry– I–”

“It’s all right,” he offered. “That was intense for you.”

Smug.

You ignored the comment and made it on your feet, but felt a huge wave of embarrassment come over you as you looked down to ND’s leg, where streaks of your release had made it through your underwear and ended up stained on the metal.

“Let me, uh, get that.” 

Despite your weak legs, you quickly redressed and ran over to the kitchen for a rag. Rather than heading right back to the cockpit, you took a moment to stand there in the daunting silence, a million thoughts bouncing around in your head. Did this actually fix anything? Or did this ruin everything? As if you’d been doused in ice-cold water, all of the pleasure you’d experienced and the thrum of adrenaline was gone in seconds, insead replaced with regret and concern. Everything came rushing back to the forefront of your mind, and mixed emotions with it all. ND-5 didn’t want you as part of the crew. He never did. He put up with you living on the Trailblazer and working the jobs with them because he trusted Kay, but that was it. You were a distraction, and now, arguably, you were an even bigger one. 

You didn’t want to take too long. When you finally came back, ND’s head followed your every move, and he continued to stare as you wiped him off. He couldn’t read your mind, but you knew how analytical he was. Calculating. Always assessing. It made you tense. 

Breaking the palpable silence, ND said your name for the fourth time. Not that you were keeping count.

“I don’t hate you.”

Caught by surprise, and suddenly a little irritable now, you backed away from him as if you'd been burned. You would have been angry before. Now, you felt lost. 

“It doesn’t matter.”

You tossed the rag to the side, somewhere you’d be able to remember to grab it to dispose of later.

“You are part of the crew,” he reminded you. “It does matter.”

You didn’t have anything else to say. In fact, you were so overwhelmed with too many emotions and feelings alike, that you just wanted to retreat to the semi-privacy of your bunk and wait it out until Kay came back to naturally break this newly uncovered tension.

“Come back here,” ND called after you. “We need to talk.”

You stopped in your tracks and whipped around to face him. After all these months, now he wants to talk? You were more confused now than anything, and didn’t really have the energy to be angry, but your defensive instinct to start swinging quickly took over.

“About what, ND? You say you don’t hate me, but you sure as hell don’t want me here.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you here. You are a dis–”

“A distraction, yes, you’ve said that. Message received, ND.” You shook your head dismissively, waving your hands in the air. “There isn’t much more to discuss.”

“I’m sorry.”

That was the first time you’d heard ND apologize to you for anything, and some of the stronger feelings diffused. ND’s heavy footfalls came toward you, and he said your name again, only this time, you truly listened.

“I meant it when I said that I resented saving you,” he began. “But you are here for a reason. I trust Kay, and she trusts you. That is enough for me.” 

“I see.” You look down at your boots. Your face felt hot again as you recalled what had started all of this. “And I didn’t intend for you to, uh, hear me.”

“I know that, and you cannot control how distracting you are.”

You shook your head, unable to hide the grin that grew on your lips. You plopped down into the pilot’s seat and looked up at ND. “Well, what now?”

“We work together to do our job,” he supplied, and took his place in his seat once again. A holomap appeared in a brilliant blue light, illuminating the cockpit. A few planets were at the forefront, the ones that ND had picked out. “Let’s get to work.”

You pulled up the same holomap on your end, but kept your eyes on your crewmate. “So, will you make it easier for me now?”

“Only if you stop being a brat.”

You chuckle. “I can’t make any promises.” 

It was like time stood still, the city held hostage under a shroud of dread. Everyone who remained knew what was coming. 

The pavestoned streets were empty. No mechanical hum of carriages. Quiet. Eerie. Almost the entire population of Piltover had been evacuated, leaving only those who chose to stay back and fight, along with those who already had the duty to do so. Families were separated, and many civilians-turned-soldiers were home and tuckered in for a long, sleepless night. Some others, like yourself however, opted to spend the final, calm hours in pubs, surrounded by those who were similarly drinking to their last–

–No, no. You will not let that thought reemerge. That was why you’d chosen to drown your worries in alcohol and companionship, after all. 

You were a bit unsteady on your feet. Head lighter than air and vision slightly, very subtly lagging. You weren’t a drunk, but you did indulge a tad too much this evening, more than you ever had. Anything to quell your nerves, your anxiety of knowing what was to come. A few of your closest friends had been with you, longtime co-workers from the hospital along with a couple others who were officers that you all knew mainly from run-ins at work, Steb being among them. You thought it was interesting of him to go out, considering he wasn’t a consumer of alcohol in any capacity – but also because he’d been promoted, given the command of his own squad in the wake of the war that loomed heavily overhead. You’d figured he’d be home, getting as much of a good night’s rest as anyone currently could, but he’d shown up, as stoic and out of place as ever, to the pub you’d just left.

After several drinks, and when things had started to get blissfully hazy, Steb offered to walk you home. He’d been to your place before, with a handful of others. Low-key dinners and conversations after long shifts. Sometimes it had ended up where he’d been the last one to leave, and it always did seem as if he’d wanted to linger just to be alone with you under the guise of assisting with cleanup. You’d be fooling yourself to say that you didn’t enjoy his quiet, steady presence. He was the type of man to ground you, and maybe what he felt was mutual, because it was seemingly blatant with how close he’d been keeping to you throughout the evening, that neither one of you truly wanted to be alone right now. 

Your arm was looped snugly through Steb’s and the two of you silently made your way toward your apartment. 

By the time you arrived, standing motionless at your doorstep, your mild stupor had begun to dissipate on the coolled walk over, the brisk night air woefully sobering you. 

That’s when the anxiety started to kick back in, the fear, the knowing that you were going to be alone up until the moment came when you and many other field medics would be thrown onto the battlefield to do your duty. 

You hadn’t realized it until Steb’s hands were grasping your arms, but you were shaking. Maybe you were cold, or maybe it was from all the thoughts swarming in your head, fraying your nerves and exposing them like an open wound to the elements.

Steb ran his palms up and down your arms, attempting to combat the chill. His own body temperature was just warm enough, just comforting enough to cease some of the shivering.

What was going on inside your head, however, was still rattling you. You knew he could see it, a man who was well-versed in decoding expressions.  

“Sorry,” you managed after a gulp of breath. Steb leveled you with a concerned look, his striking features softening in the low glow of the nearby lamplight. You blinked at him, and bit your lip, holding back the vomit of incoherent fears that surely would spew any moment. The last thing Steb needed was to hear how afraid you were, when he would be leading his own squad, far ahead in the field of battle than of where you and the other medics would be. 

“Thank you for walking me home.”

You nearly turned to open the door, but Steb didn’t seem convinced, his eyes glowing with a concern that made you want to tell him everything. Slowly, almost hesitant, he released your arms to sign.

It doesn’t feel right leaving you like this.

You watched his hands, then glanced back to his face, just as those little fins flitted against his cheeks. There was a message in his eyes. Something for you to decipher. 

“You did more than enough, going out of your way to get me home.” 

Will you be okay?

“As okay as anyone right now,” you quipped, hoping to lighten the air. It didn’t quite land, though – not in your heart, and not when it reached Steb’s ears. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you observed how his eyes subtly moved back and forth between your own. They practically glowed in this low light of night, crystalline and considering. Oases you could drown in – a fate preferable to the one you may be facing.

It hit you then, after having been purposefully subdued all evening. A force that was too strong to stay down. 

You might die tomorrow. Steb might die tomorrow. All of your friends and their friends. The citizens that stayed back, those who were given a uniform and a weapon that felt too foreign in their hands. Your lip started to quiver in your futile attempt to hold back the raw emotion, and of course, Steb noticed. He always noticed. From a distance or otherwise, he always noticed you. 

His hand found your cheek, holding you so softly as if recognizing the fragility, that you could shatter any moment.

Consumed, you raised yourself on your toes and kissed him. 

It had to be common. Good luck and goodbye kisses were a thing. A celebration of life, of hope, of success. Kissing someone when you knew that things would never be the same, that had to be real too. Though it was chaste, you wanted to savor it. To savor him. Before hell would break loose. 

Before you died. 

But what had been meant to be chaste was unexpectedly reciprocated. Steb dropped his hand from your cheek and instead cradled the back of your head. You felt the moment he melted into it, gave himself over to it, accepted it. You could hear the flitting of his facial fins, so delicate and rhythmic, and he slowly started to pull away. 

You blinked at him, unsure of what to say.

But you did feel a lot lighter, a lot less burdened. That had to mean something. 

Steb took a breath, inhaling slowly through his nose before gently exhaling. The tickle of it fanned against your face as you casted your gaze toward his steady hands.

Would you like me to come inside? Stay with you until you’re feeling better?

Remembering all the times Steb had hung back with you after the others had gone, of feeling so light and natural when it was only him in your space, your answer to him now came easy – only the giddiness that arose from his offer was quickly overshadowed with the return of turbulent nerves.

Unlocking your door had never been a more difficult task, you’d think you were trying to break into your own home. Steb gently offered to take over, briefly threading his fingers through yours to grip your key. Even now, as you were about to break down, Steb remained calm and collected. Something about watching him fluidly unlock your door then usher you into your own home tugged at your heart. Perhaps it was the thought that this moment may not ever happen again after tonight. 

He guided you to your sofa. Took a seat beside you. Watched you carefully.

Do you want to talk about it?

So sincere. Kindhearted. Trying to mend whatever and whomever he can. Traits that were arguably wasted as an enforcer.

“I’m scared, Steb.” 

Unable to help it, a tear had broken through your defenses, gliding coolly down your flush cheek. Steb’s eyes followed its path and it made your heart skip a beat.

Then he wiped at your cheek with the pad of his thumb, tilting his head with more to say.

I’m feeling uneasy as well. 

You huffed a small laugh. Leaned into him.

“You hide it well.”

You couldn’t see the way he smirked, but you felt the shake of his head, no doubt signaling the changing of his expression into something more serious.

I keep thinking about what we’re up against… it’s Noxus, and not something I think we’d ever be truly ready for.

Noxians were known for war. Brutal conquerors. Strength, adaptability, aggression. A terrifying adversary. The scales were already tipped in their favor. 

Steb sighed, but he kept signing without missing a beat. Explaining like he was attempting to comfort you and himself.

But there are multiple plans in place. Strategies and contingencies. I’ve helped draw some up myself, but the fear is whether or not they will prove successful. 

“I trust in you.”

You glanced up toward his face, after spending all that time watching his hands as he communicated, his long, elegant fingers, and found that he was already looking down at you. His glacier eyes were soft, inviting, grounding. It was then that you became cognizant of his mild body heat, a comfortable reminder that he was close to you. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, and an almost perceivable thumping of his heart was present under your cheek. 

Unsure if you should trust the sudden dryness of your throat, you spoke.

“Steb, I don’t want you to leave.”

His thumb stroked your chin, a mesmerizing motion that caused your lips to part.

“I won’t.”

Hearing his voice was unexpected. The second kiss was even more so. 

It was different from the first. Inevitable.

All too easily, he pulled you onto his lap, deepening the kiss and letting his hand get tangled in the hair at the base of your skull. While his other hand was set on exploring the expanse of your back, you focused on the implications of your current position, how your core was pressed directly against his groin. A heat licked up your spine, a sort of adrenaline that caused you to throw any remaining caution to the wind. 

So you tested the waters. Rolled your hips against him to see what that would lead to. 

Music to your ears, Steb let out a deep, hurt sound that splintered in his throat. 

You made out with Steb for an imperceptible amount of time. Rocked against him until you finally noticed how hard he’d gotten, until you noticed your own drooling arousal dampening your panties. You were high, intoxicated on his touch, his taste. He was unlike anyone you’d ever kissed, his tongue more alien, more exotic. The way his mouth worked against yours was beautifully divergent, his need for air far less than yours, consuming you in a way that threatened to black you out. It was dizzying. Erotic. You felt as if he held your very life in his hands, in his arms as they held you close, guided your hips as you moved against him. It was amazingly strange, but you had a tinge of hope—whether it was genuine or faux, you weren’t going to dwell—from how Steb handled you now that you maybe had a chance of survival. That you’d both make it out to see this through, to move with him like this again, to feel each other again. 

You were more turned on than you ever had been in your life. The looming thought of death in the near future mixed confusingly with the arousing excitement of the present. 

Steb had to be feeling that, too. 

So you wanted to test him once again. Experiment with how far this could go. 

Breaking from his lips was difficult, and the fresh breath of air you inhaled upon doing so nearly seemed unfamiliar. Steb’s eyes were hooded, but glowing a darker shade of blue that you’d never seen in them before. Resembled a deep, uncharted ocean sparkling under moonlight.

The only hesitation in your movements as you pulled off your shirt was from watching the look in his eyes go from slightly unsure of why you’d stopped kissing him, to complete and full understanding of what you were doing now. A pretty blush had since decorated his cheeks, his ears bouncing with modest curiosity. 

When you reached around to start unclasping your bra, Steb sat up a little straighter to remove his own shirt. It had to be unbuttoned, and he did so with deft fingers, his eyes finding your breasts while he worked. With a little sigh, you recaptured his gaze. Assisted him with the remaining buttons and leaned back to grant him room to shrug the shirt off his shoulders. 

You admired Steb’s body, his lean musculature, the dark green striations that trailed from neck to his chest down to his hips and disappeared below the waistline of his pants, the gills that were slightly longer than the ones on his face, lining his sides just below his ribs. After similarly looking you over, he sat back comfortably again, pulling you with him. Skin against skin, Steb kissed you slow, deliberate, preparing. There was a new weight to the way his hands roamed your body. Groping, teasing, searching. He sought after what touches would make you whimper, hum, sigh. 

You did the same, only it didn’t take you long to reach for the hardness that had been pressing against you for quite some time now. 

Steb backed his head away to watch with fascination as you worked the fastenings of his pants, undoing them with a sort of sexy fluidity that thrilled you. 

You weren’t able to get any further, though, because in moments Steb had rolled you off of him and had your back against the cushions, and he was already in the process of guiding your own bottoms from you, pulling them gently from your legs. Fully bare to him now, Steb quickly kicked off what clothing remained from the waist down, and wrapped his arms around you to position you back on his lap. 

“Fuck,” you couldnt help but gasp out upon recovering from his swell of eagerness, the way in which he’d hastily removed every last layer of clothing from you. Steb raised a brow, characteristically unimpressed, of course, at your choice of words. Maybe it was the way he’d been raised, but Steb didn’t much care for foul language. Why did that make you feel even more attracted to him? A challenge bloomed, that you wanted to make him curse, to get him to let loose, to catch a glimpse at the atypical. Anything and everything, before it was too late. 

You missed the taste of him, the feel of his invitingly textured tongue licking into your mouth. Steb must have read your thoughts, or perhaps he saw how hard you were staring at his swollen parted lips, because he pulled you in for another kiss. This time, it was meant as a distraction of sorts, to mask the sensation of Steb angling himself at your slick entrance. So eager, so lost in it. He entered you slowly, wetly, facilitated by the amount of arousal you’ve drooled since first straddling him. He gasped into your mouth, shoulders tensed, hands gripping your hips. The sting of it was so slight, barely there. It felt entirely too right for Steb to fill you like this, and yet again you were taunted with the thought that this could be the last time. Something new, wasted. Never to see its full fruition. 

Tears broke from your waterline, and Steb dutifully brushed them away. Skin flush with skin, he guided your head down and tapped his forehead against yours, inhaling the same air. Squeezed the back of your neck. Held you tight. 

“You feel…”

You didn’t let him finish voicing his thoughts. His voice was too much, such a rare novelty that only made you more sad, more fearful, of what you could lose. Kissing him was far easier, and the way he took your breath away with every mouth on mouth moment allowed you to push away everything else. 

That, and the sensation of him inside of you as he started to guide you. 

You worked with him, arms wrapped around his neck, draped over his dorsal fins, holding tight as you rocked yourself. Steb held you just as tightly, slowly angling himself in upward motions on repeat, creating the most amazing friction and dance between your bodies. A quiet slap of skin on skin. You felt him so deep, angled just right, and you could have sworn he had something extra decorating the length of him, feeling sensations that you’d never felt with someone before. 

Soon you were crying again. Tears streamed down your cheeks. Emotions of too many varieties flooded you. Steb kissed along your face, his lips collecting the tears. He didn’t stop kissing you, wiping at your tears, hugging you close. Knowing just how afraid you were had to have made him stronger. To be the one to ground the other. The steady presence. A pillar. You could shatter with him, like this. He was right there to pick up your pieces.

Your shared movements got a little quicker, a little more breathless. You didn’t want this to end, but you also didn’t want to completely fall apart seated on top of him like this, filled so perfectly. Like a dream you didn’t want to wake from, only for it to be replaced by a nightmare.

Your fingers threaded through his hair, curling into a fist. Steb groaned and tilted his head back as you worked faster, the slapping increasing in both speed and volume, until you were dangling right there, right on the precipice. 

You cupped Steb’s face, thumb brushing ever so delicately over the seam of his gills. His eyes were hooded, lips parted, and his cheeks were painted with the softest hues of pinks and oranges. He was so handsome, and his little hurt sounds were music to your ears. 

You leaned down to his ear, nuzzling the serrated shell of it.

“Are you close?” 

Steb groaned again, thighs tensing, as he nodded. 

“Me too. I– I’m so close, Steb.”

He didn’t get to ask you what you needed to help get you there, because he seemed to already be that in tune with your body. Biting his plum lip and securing an arm around your back, Steb readjusted you both so that you were once again flat against the cushions. Arching over you, he began to thrust his hips, hitting just right. 

Then his fingers found your clit, and you were done for. 

You climaxed with a broken whine, arching off the cushions right into his torso. Steb hissed at how hard you were contracting around him, and with a final, deep thrust, he released inside of you, his muscles tensing and body shaking with the shockwave of it. 

Steb carefully, mindfully, collapsed on top of you. You felt him throb inside of you, still releasing, a molten sensation that felt indescribably addictive.

Your eyes opened slowly, blinking into focus at the window you were facing. The sheer curtains were drawn closed, but warm sunlight shone through the fabric, illuminating the walls with a dreamy glow. Birds chirped quietly outside, distant but a telltale sign of the day only just beginning. 

When you adjusted to turn on your other side, your eyes softened and a smile grew on your lips as you took in his brilliant features slackened and eased with sleep. You took a moment to appreciate him in this state, how his facial scales fluttered rhythmically every few moments, in tandem with his soft breaths, as if they were drawing breath for themselves. It had been far too long since he’d last been granted a day off—a full day, not on-call—and you’d been giddy to spend the entire day with him, but you’d feel entirely too guilty to wake him now. 

Steb deserved this peace.

So you watched him sleep. Mentally traced the contours of his face, his jaw, his nose. His zygomatic scales flowed like seaweed caught in a gentle current, mesmerizing. His head angled toward you, his ear would twitch involuntarily, always picking up on sounds even when he was fast asleep – aware of the soft chirp of birds and the mechanics of carriages. His brows sat relaxed above the pretty pastels coloring his eyelids and the bridge of his nose.

Steb was so… pretty. To put in plainly. Unlike any man you’d ever been with.

You fought the urge to touch him, to draw an imaginary path along his features that echoed the mental lines you’d traced and along the predetermined dark green striations. Your eyes flitted down, slowly, observing the column of his neck and tendons of lean muscle webbing from his shoulders and collarbones, all exposed by the slip of the sheet. His upper arms, half-covered, forearms resting at his side and draped across his abdomen. Lithe but strong. Agile. Sturdy. Steb’s strength was not the kind to be on full display, but was the kind to surprise you with how much of it he truly possessed. You knew how much time he dedicated to training, a regimen that was hardly if ever broken. Steb was a man of routine. A habitual creature.

You continued to gaze at him. Silently admired the man who was so close that you could hear the hushed flitting of his scales, the soft exhales from his nose.  

Never mind resisting the urge to touch him — you wanted to put your lips on him. To press your mouth along Steb’s surprisingly smooth skin, to be tickled by the scales and fins on the different parts of his body. To taste him, the appreciable salinity that was surprisingly enthralling.  

Then — a salacious thought. 

What you really wanted was to tease him. 

Steb always had fallen apart at your deliberate touches, meticulous in the way you handled him. The pacing, the path you’d take, the purposeful avoidance. He was putty in your hands when you’d control his pleasure — and something about that was entirely too exciting. Steb would come out much less tense afterwards, more unburdened. 

If today was about relaxation, peace — what better way to kick it off by offering him something that would grant him exactly that?

You had never touched him in his sleep before but the newness of it was admittedly exciting.

A devious smile fought to claim your lips as you carefully guided your hand under and down the sheet towards Steb’s body. You didn’t want to wake him now, not while knowing that you could rouse him awake in a much more satisfying way. 

The heat radiating from his body helped you locate your target blindly, and with a determined bite of your lip, you extended your fingers to grab hold of where his cock sat flaccid in his briefs.

Holding your breath, you felt the pulse of him beneath your fingertips, watched how his brows slightly twitched with the inexplicable disturbance. When Steb didn’t show any immediate signs of waking, you pushed onward, fondling him gently above the fabric.

The slow rhythm of his facial scales changed as his cock started to harden in your hand. They flared for a moment, reacting to the rush of blood to his groin. Steb remained blissfully unaware of what was happening as the rest of his body stayed asleep, and the satisfaction of touching him like this while not waking him sent arousing pride rushing through you and settled lower. It felt too good to clench your thighs.

Nearly fully erect now, Steb’s cock was pleasantly heated from under the tented fabric constricting him. Feeling bold, you gently maneuvered him out from the waistband, freeing him at last.

You held your breath again — because you’d heard his hitch. His brows were furrowed slightly, not as relaxed as they’d been before touching him. You wondered what his mind was conjuring for him in his sleep, if he was experiencing something similar in a dream. His facial features were more reactive now. Muted expressions of pleasure.

But he remained asleep, and that was enough.

Reverently, your fingers teased along the frills on his cock. They were soft and delicate to the touch but utterly devastating when they’d stimulate you from the inside. The frills twitched with subtle movement, matching the pulsing of his flitting facial scales. There was an adorable scrunch between his brows now. Confusion met with pleasure, though he truly was not consciously privy to either.

Precum made it smoother to pump him, and with your grip deliberate, you did so slowly, completely locked in on his handsome face. Steb’s breathing had since shortened into quicker expansions of his chest. His cock throbbed under your touch. Pulsated in tandem with his heart. His closed eyelids squeezed together, his lips gently tapped opened and closed as if he were mouthing expletives and praises alike, and his scales flared straight. 

He was close — and he could wake any moment now.

Patient as you’d been, you couldn’t wait anymore.

So you closed the distance and pressed your lips against Steb’s.

It was comical, the way you could instantly sense how his eyes flew open, the way his entire body awoke and tensed, how his lungs drew a copious amount of air in realization. It took the breath from your own, and when you pulled back, his facial features were telling, the hearts in his eyes wild. 

You never released his cock from your grip, instead doubled your efforts with the aid of increased precum leaking from the flushed head. Your forearm started to burn slightly with the effort, but it was exhilarating. The way Steb was watching you was enough to further intoxicate you on this high you were nursing. He was wrapped around your finger, with your fingers wrapped around his cock.

Mere inches from his face, you flashed him a smirk.

“Good morning, darling.” 

You swore you felt Steb shudder at that, his body reacting to everything about this experience. His lips parted. Speechless. You were sure signing was beyond him at this point, and true to that, all he could do was groan and gasp, the deep, soft noises going straight to your core. It wasn’t difficult to discern how wet you were getting from this, the dampening of the material covering your sex.

Suddenly, his hand flew down to yours. The unintentional force of it arrested you, his heaving chest and scrunched brows atop the burning ice of his eyes made your heart skip several beats — and for many moments, you were unable to predict Steb’s next move. 

“Shit— ” You felt… embarrassed. Ashamed, guilty. Steb had stopped you, right as he’d been about to finish. “I’m sorry… I had this idea to— ”

Unexpectedly, Steb grabbed you and maneuvered you on top of him. It happened so fast, his arms wrapping around your back, holding you close to his body. You’d released his cock with the sudden change of position, but you felt it hard and throbbing against your hip. The needy heat of him burned through your sheer sleep shorts.

His intense heartbeat roared against your chest, and for a moment, as you started to melt at the way he was looking at you, you were slightly upset with yourself for thinking you’d crossed a line, and then with Steb for not allowing you to follow through with what you’d envisioned. 

“Excuse you,” you chided softly, narrowing your eyes playfully. Steb quirked a brow expectantly. Your cheeks heated. “I wasn’t finished with you yet.”

An obvious fight against a smile and a noncommittal grunt is what he responded with, but it was enough to let you know that he had no intention of letting this morning wrap up just yet. Steb was quick. Agile. Had your shorts and underwear down your legs quickly and his weeping cock lined up against your pussy with precision. 

Before you could argue how this morning was supposed to be about him, Steb had entered you. Your head drooped and you cried out into his neck, his skin warm and his pulse jumping beneath your lips. His arms had once again wrapped tightly around you, his hold never letting up as you became fully seated on him. 

Just as you had recalled when toying with him in his sleep, the frills along his cock were already at work, stroking your insides as he began to buck his hips upward. Your arms had wrapped around the back of Steb’s neck, and you held onto him while he did all the work, chasing the orgasm he’d been near just after awakening. 

Through his soft grunts, you could make out his deep voice, the way his throat vibrated with words as they broke off into breathy groans.

“Wanted to… be inside…”

Complete understanding swept through you like a dangerous wave, and unable to help it, you nodded dumbly. Threaded your fingers through his loose hair, easier without product, just above where the line of dorsal fins began. 

You felt the moment Steb came inside of you. The rough press of his groin against yours, his stuttering breaths punching against your chest. Warm and gushing, filling you completely. 

“Mornin’,” he mumbled, his rasp voice all syrupy and suggestive. Steb kissed your temple, chaste and soft. You didn’t miss the slight playfulness cadenced in that single word.

A contented sigh seeped from your lips against where his shoulder curved to his neck, then you lifted yourself from his chest, gently repositioning yourself to lay at his side. Tilting your head to meet his eyes, you rested against his upper arm as he outstretched it around you. 

“Sorry for waking you so early on your day off,” you said, struggling to keep your satisfied smile at bay. 

You traced the jade striations of his skin, lost in the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Steb lifted his free hand from his side, and you instinctively raised your head to allow his other arm free, granting him use of both hands for communication.

I rather enjoyed waking up in such a manner, he signed, a smirk playing at his berry lips. I was dreaming of you… and you can imagine the shock I was in to wake up with your hand wrapped around me.

“I imagined you were having pleasant dreams,” you responded playfully. “You were far too hard and wet not to be.”

Steb shook his head, no heat with the gesture. You couldn't help but giggle, running the pad of your forefinger along his naturally pouty bottom lip. 

You have quite the effect on me, he defended, his eyes serious yet filled with something deeper, his affection evident. Even in my sleep.

You shared in silence for several minutes, tracing each other's skin, ruminating under the muted sounds from beyond the walls while the day’s first light continued to seep through the curtains. Either one of you could have fallen back asleep like this, satiated in the arms of one another, but a dream-like trance kept you awake and present, and you were sure it was the same for Steb. 

You weren’t ready to get up any time soon, but you couldn't help but cast a glance up to see Steb’s face, to meet those crystalline blue eyes that you adored so much, pleased with how relaxed he looked after your little stunt that began his day. 

And the day really had only just begun.

“Any ideas on how you want to spend your day off?”

Steb tilted his head against the pillow, almost as if he were considering. 

“In bed, with you,” he then answered aloud. Soon he was cupping your cheek with his palm and angling your face toward his. You scooted up slightly and it was instinct to lean in, to brush your lips against his and part them with promise, to shut your eyes in preparation, but Steb paused just before you could meet his lips, instead shaping his own with more words ready to be spoken. 

His hand cradling your jaw slid slowly down the column of your throat, cupping gently but intentional. Despite no real pressure applied, your breath caught itself there, beneath the curl of his fingers and palm. Trapped, waiting. Your pulse thumped against the benign weight of his grasp.

You were already so far gone. Whining with need and his name. Steb hadn’t even really begun yet, but it was evident how pent up you were. Work was weighing on you. Family. Social life. You were practically clawing at Steb’s clothes. Committed to swallowing his tongue. 

So – he thought he’d get the ball rolling. Grab the condom himself, knowing exactly where the box was located. With your mouth not letting up on his own, he blindly reached for the drawer and pulled it open by the ornate handle, but lifted from your lips when his fingers grazed something obscure – something phallic shaped. Adjusting to sit up on his ankles, his eyes landed on the item in question, widening with curiosity. Caught off guard, his ears pinned back. As if he’d seen something he hadn’t been meant to see. Heat flooded to his ears and cheeks, and you noticed straight away. 

Realization of Steb’s discovery caused you to mirror his surprised expression. 

“Oh – I, uh – That’s –”

You floundered. 

His brow slightly raised, eyes softening. Inquisitive. Seeking permission. 

A simple sign directed your way, his hands slow and sincere.

May I?

Visibly swallowing a gulp of air, you nodded.

Steb reached for the phallic object, curiously observing the generous length of the tealed silicone. It was almost entirely smooth in his hands, as he wrapped his fingers around the base of it. Firm with a bit of give, slightly ribbed and curved a bit to the side. A purposeful design. 

“It’s a dildo,” you supplied, a little shy, filling in the blanks that he’d already filled. 

With a million images pouring into his mind, Steb could only watch you, at the way your chest heaved under his gaze.

You bit your lip. “It’s new…”

Steb considered it for a moment longer then set it down between your legs, the promise of it being used inside of you extremely present with the way it grazed your inner thigh. He chewed his lip in contemplation as he spared a glance to the wetness dampening your panties, trying to decide his next move. 

He couldn't stop thinking about the implications of you owning such an object, something you must use when you were needy but all alone, when Steb was working late and unable to satisfy you in his absence.

A strange pang of jealousy bloomed at that, mixing dangerously with how aroused the imagery was making him – of you sprawled out as you were now, bare, sweating and panting, thrusting the phallic toy in and out of your sweet sex.

Steb let his hand graze over your bare breast. Pinched your nipple with nothing but adoration, then began to sign. 

I am curious… What made you want to obtain such an object?

“The color…” you began, your hands still frozen at your sides, exactly where they’d fallen when Steb first made the discovery and lifted from you. “It reminded me of you. I use it when I’m missing you,” you admitted, a blush darkening your cheeks. 

Steb’s cock jumped in his briefs, tighter now with his evident arousal. He considered your confession for another moment, watching the way you worried your lip. He gently pulled the plush of it out from your teeth with his thumb, releasing it slowly as it flicked back into place.

What do you think about when you use it on yourself?

Steb didn’t grant you ample time to answer, because as soon as his hands had finished signing, he’d lowered himself between your legs, his cheek resting against your inner thigh just opposite of the toy. From this close he could smell your arousal, so decadent and alluring, and could even see how your cunt throbbed from beneath the tightness of your damp panties. Steb loved being between your legs, loved devouring you and mouthing at your sex until you were shaking and spent. He could almost forget about his new discovery if his face had already been buried in your sweet pussy, but the presence of what you’d referred to as a dildo was right there, teasing you purposefully with the way he’d set it down. 

Steb’s eyes met yours. 

He’d never used gadgets to substitute or amplify a partner’s pleasure before, but then again, he never considered the trust involved in something like that, and that maybe that trust hadn’t been present with anyone else before you. 

“If you want to see…” you offered in a near whisper.

Your panties were peeled off and slid down your legs not much longer after that, and Steb was already set to explore you in this way, the dildo held loosely in his hand. He imagined the way his own cock would tease you, how he’d rub the tip against your pretty little clit to elicit those perfect sounds you grace him with, to get you just a bit wetter and ready to take him. The phallic toy wasn’t an exact replica of his own anatomy, but he figured it was better than nothing when you were all alone and needy. Hell, were you beautiful when you were desperate and needy, just as you were now. The look in your eyes said it all, but Steb couldn’t spend too much time watching your eyes because he was so enraptured with how your sex reacted to the touch of the toy. Glistening, soft, perfect. He ran the head of it through your folds to your clit, repeating until your back began to arch off the bed. Satisfied with your body’s response, a welcoming familiar one, Steb focused instead on how your tight hole had to stretch around the width of it as he slowly guided it inside of you, watching, mesmerized, at the way your pussy swallowed inch after inch.

You were holding your breath, Steb could see that. You seemed just as captivated, watching how he toyed with your sex like this. Something new, something exciting. His cock was painfully hard now, aching and wanting. Straining in his briefs and he couldn't help but subtly rut himself against the mattress. 

Once the dildo was fully inserted, Steb watched for several moments as your cunt throbbed tightly around it, threatening to push it out. 

He sat up slightly, freeing his hands.

Tell me… Steb tilted his head inquisitively, almost coyly. How do you normally use it?

“I like to start off slow,” you admitted. You were so gorgeous like this, bashful under his predatory gaze. He could see the way your throat bobbed with undecided words, the way your pulse jumped in your neck. You’d taste entirely too delicious if he should bite down there, if he should instantly balm the superficial wound with his tongue. 

Testing, Steb slowly started to pull at the toy, inching it out of you half way before reinserting it to the base, all the way to the back wall of your cunt, then repeated using your suggested pace. It was enough to get you to ride a gentle wave, your eyes fluttering and chest heaving. But then, as needy as you were, his perfect little thing, you started to rock your hips, chasing something more. The same thing you’d do when Steb rutted himself into you at a leisurely rhythm, either when he’d first start off or when he’d ride your high.

He blinked at you expectantly. Wordlessly urging you to tell him what to do next.

“Then… then I get faster. A little– a little harder.”

Your back was already arching and your words were broken into moans, but Steb followed your guidance, ever obedient and loyal as a man who had–unbeknownst to you–fully pledged himself to you. Committed, without a doubt.

The tendons and veins in Steb’s forearm strained with how quickly he thrusted the toy, squelching sounds coming from your sopping sex making his ears bounce and cheeks heat. You were nearly breathless now, words lost to you. So beautiful, so ethereal, his. Steb knew you were close, as experience had taken over then. Possessed — Steb was properly possessed. Completely fascinated with the obscene way your cunt drooled all over the length of the toy, his hand and wrist. He knew his cock had similarly been coated in your essence many times before, but never had he ever been this close as it had happened. 

When you came, it was hard. Steb had to pin his free forearm across your waist to keep you anchored to the mattress, used his elbows to keep your thighs from clamping down on him. 

You’d squirted – and Steb was absolutely taken aback by that.

The toy spat out onto a damp spot staining the sheets, and his entire arm glistened with your mess. 

Instinct taking over before a second thought, Steb quickly lowered his mouth to your pussy. Ran his tongue through your soaked sex, cleaning you out. He almost came in his briefs at your taste, managing to stave it off only by slightly readjusting his position so that his hips were off the bed to eliminate physical stimulation. 

His eyes shut in ecstasy as he feasted on you, his hands grabbing your hips possessively. He felt your fingers suddenly gripping his hair almost too tightly, but the pleasure far outweighed the pain, and he could only groan his appreciation into your pussy. 

“Steb– Steb, please…”

Were you begging him? To stop? To keep going? He wasn’t sure – all he knew was that he’d been able to make out desperation in your raspy, breathless voice, and he was almost too far gone to make sense of anything else. Your taste, the feel of your walls throbbing around his slender tongue, the smell of it all, your hips bucking upwards. His senses were overwhelmed, all while he was trying to stave off his own orgasm, saving it for when he could be inside of you. 

“Fuck me,” you tried, desperate. “Steb, fuck me. Please, I need you inside of me.”

You tugged at his hair harder, more deliberate, but only when you closed your thighs roughly around his ears, twisting your hips to urge him away, did Steb finally pop off you. Your essence coated his lips, his chin, his nose. You pulled him by his hair for an unexpected kiss, not caring that you were cleaning your own mess off his lips. Steb hurriedly peeled off his briefs one handed, not breaking from you, and just as quickly inserted his aching cock into your sex, extremely slick from your orgasm and Steb’s own spit, condom long forgotten.

He didn’t start off slow – he couldn’t. He grunted unabashedly into your mouth, sweat beading on his skin and his hair fell out of place. He gladly took the air from your lungs, swallowing your soft, exhausted sounds. Rammed into you so hard that the entire bed shook and the smacking of his skin against yours sounded painful. You came again, he felt it, choking his cock into oversensitivity. Feral need took over, and neither one of you cared how abruptly he finished just a minute after he’d entered you so quickly, yanking himself from you just as his cock spurted onto your belly. Chest heaving, his body shuddered when the tender tip grazed your heated skin.

A bead of sweat rolled down a tendon of your neck, and without a coherent thought, he licked it right off. 

Steb cleaned you off – properly, this time. A warm, damp washcloth ran gently along your inner thighs and between your legs, the mess of milky fluid on your belly, and when he got up to dispose of it, Steb briefly shut himself in his ensuite bathroom, taking a short amount of much needed time to recompose himself. A reset. He’d lost a bit of control with you, was rougher than he’d ever been – though he knew that was only a glimpse of how he could be when it would come time to breed you. The inhuman part of him had screamed from behind that closed door in his mind, purposefully locked away so as to not scare you. He splashed cold water onto his face, and brushed his hair back into place, mussed with how hard you’d tugged on it. Stared at himself in the mirror, noticed the small discolored crescents decorating his shoulders.  

In his craze he hadn't even realized you were clawing at him, clinging to him so hard that you left marks.

A sensation stirred in his spent cock, hanging flaccid and slightly shorter between his legs. Steb admired the marks left on him, didn’t mind them at all considering his uniform would easily cover them for the sake of professionalism, and from undeserving eyes. 

He redressed and rejoined you in his bed, switching to the other side in avoidance of the mess he’d gotten you to make on his sheets. A very pleasant, sexy mess. 

Curled up on your side, you blinked dreamily at Steb. Exhausted you were, he could tell, and believed it. He stared at you, just as entranced and dazed in that blissful post-coitus fog, his eyes flicking to the pulsepoint in your neck, and couldn't help the guilt that pushed its way to the surface. No – he hadn’t bitten you, not that he ever would without your consent; but a culpable feeling about how Steb had been rougher than normal with you weighed on him. Would you tell him if you were unhappy, if him getting carried away had made you uncomfortable, or—dare he consider—scared?

Steb wanted you to hear his voice, the knowing rarity of it a novelty he’d hoped would project the sincerity of his concern. 

“Hey.”

Your eyes opened fully, brows furrowing, always so visibly caught off guard when he used his voice. Endearing, it was to see, because the look of confusion always would quickly turn into one of trust and gratitude. A softer expression settled onto your face then, one that told Steb he was free to speak, that you would always be there to listen. 

Only – he didn’t trust his own voice now. Not with the guilt weighing on him, the fear that he’d crossed a line with you, the fear that you may have kept your reluctance hidden from him.

Sitting up against the headboard, he decided to sign instead.

I’m sorry, he began, suddenly unable to look you in the eyes. Your gaze was burning hot, however. Curious yet patient. Steb took a breath. I was too rough, too careless. Please, tell me, did I hurt you?

Your palm met his cheek, gently guiding him back to you.

“Listen to me, Steb.” You took his hand, bringing it to your sternum and pulling his fingers to splay out over your heart, a gesture he was sure that was meant to balm the own ache of regret sitting heavily on his own. You leveled him with a look. “You could never hurt me.”

“I got carried away,” he said aloud, shame thick in his tone. Then, he wrapped the fingers of his free hand around yours, still holding him against your chest. A confession was coming – and Steb couldn’t stop it.

“You… don’t know what you do to me.”

“Maybe not,” you reply with a little smirk, your attempt at putting him at ease. “But I am the one who bought a fake cock that resembles yours to use when you’re not around – so doesn’t that tell you what you do to me?”

Steb couldn't help but chuckle at that, already feeling the tension lift from his shoulders, and, similarly, the guilt from his chest. 

“I thought you were amazing,” you continued, now seated up beside him. The sheet had slipped down, your breasts reexposed. “I like it rough.”

I’ll give it to you rough if that’s what you want, he responded, feeling more confident with signing, unable to hide a cocky smirk teasing his lips. But I still deeply enjoy taking my time with you, exploring you. Tonight was something new, he added. 

“Sorry I didn’t show you my dirty little secret sooner.”

Don’t be sorry. I rather enjoyed the look on your face when I found it.

Playfully, you swatted at his bicep, and he chuckled again. He felt lighter now, far more so than when he’d first rejoined you. 

It was late, and Steb needed to get home. 

That sparring session hadn’t been something he’d needed after such a draining day, but who would he have been to deny your sweet request for him to join you? After all, Steb very much liked spending time with you, and at the end of the day, he’d be damned if he didn’t try to find any little way to see you a final time before turning in. You’d left just a little bit ago, leaving Steb alone in the gym – exhausted and extremely pent up. 

Working alongside you always had him slightly distracted, though it was only a mild inebriation that he could still operate under – until this evening when his well-hidden feelings for you had threatened to seep through the cracks. Contradictory to what his heart felt, Steb was glad you’d finally decided to leave; it had been only a matter of time until his body would have begun to betray the practiced strength of his composure. Alone, he’d tried throwing how he felt into the way he’d sparred with the rotating dummy, hooking left and right at the extended arms and parrying each counterstrike it’d volleyed back with. Even though only a handful of minutes had gone by, he’d lost track of time, but the tension hadn’t ebbed any.

Steb walked through the dimly-lit hallway toward the locker room, his duffle bag strap slung on his shoulder. Sweat felt thick on his teal skin. Clung heavily to the natural, thin layer of secreted sheen. His hair was more unkempt than he’d care for it to be in public, no matter how empty this area of the station was. Before heading home, he would quickly change into his civvies that were stored neatly in his locker. Grab the spare that needed to be patched where it had been torn in several inconspicuous places, noticeable enough for Steb to be bothered by it.

Approaching the locker room, the door before him was cracked; it never did seal all the way, he’d noticed. His hand made contact with the metal-framed door, but something caused his ears to jerk with interest.

Something seemed off.

It was rare that other officers came to this area at this time of night. Most night shift officers who were at the station mostly hung around the mess, or the common area razzing each other up. Not much of Steb’s style. What he was hearing behind the door sounded like someone, whoever it was, was trying not to get caught. Street folk had snuck in before, for the sole purpose of using the facilities, but that had ended a long while back. Or so he thought.

Knelt down, Steb set down the duffle bag, slowly pulling the zipper open. Sat atop his folded uniform was his baton, much smaller when retracted. Less intimidating. Meant for doing a quick search or having a brief chat – though Steb didn’t do much if any of the talking. It was all for show, until it wouldn't be.

He went to grab it, but something caused him to pause. Another twitch of his ears and Steb could make out something new. Water – the crackle of it as it had just been released from the pipes.

The showers.

His suspicions were close to being confirmed. 

The showers were quite deep into the locker rooms, and if only one were to be running, it would not be audible to human ears from outside this door. Baton in hand and duffle bag resecured, Steb cautiously entered and made his way toward his locker, passing through the columns that lined the center of the large labyrinth of a room. When he got to his own locker, Steb quietly opened it then shut his inner eyelids, briefly sacrificing his sight for the sake of amplified hearing. 

Still pent up. 

The tension had only been on the back burner, simmering quietly but there all the same. The stream of water made his mind swim with a fantasy in his slightly distracted state. Invited him into it like an old friend. A tapestry appeared in his mind, one painted of crystal blue waters bordered in by mossy banks, smooth stones scattered in the depths. It was homey and serene, and Steb figured it was his body’s way to tell him to get home so he could relax, work one out, and sleep it all off. 

Then you appeared. He must have thought of you then, recalled the salty scent of your skin as it beaded with sweat earlier. Pheromones still lingered in his nostrils. Danced along the roof of his mouth. Now, you were there in his mental image, propped up at the edge of the bank with your toes dipped into the water. You didn’t notice Steb yet, not looking in his direction. 

He shook his head.

Get a hold of yourself.

His ears twitched again – and just as quickly angled downward in shock. An unmistakable sound hit Steb like a ton of bricks. His eyes flew open. The metal scenario he’d previously concocted was torn away by a rip current.  

You.

Steb heard you, your soft sounds. Coming from the shower, they were undeniably yours –  only breathier than the intoxicating grunts of exertion you’d emitted when sparring with him, gentler than the huffs of breaths you’d take when sprinting beside him on the training track. These sounds were completely different. Angelic, whispers of magic. The sounds of the shower stream faded back into the air and coincided beautifully with your quiet moans, an orchestral masterpiece. 

Steb took a centering breath. Stared hard at where his boots were planted firmly to the ground. He should have every intention of leaving the area – but…

What was that saying, again? Curiosity killed the… who?

Me. 

It’ll be the death of me, for sure. 

He was arrested in place. Molten shame flooded to the pointed tips of his ears and they were pinned to his head once again. You were… pleasuring yourself. Here, of all places, in the station’s locker room, and not at your home in your bed – not that Steb would ever admit that he’d imagined you in your bed.

How many times have you done this here before now?

Did you not think I would be able to hear you?

Maybe you wanted him to.

Confident that you would be none the wiser to his presence, Steb allowed himself to groan in frustration. That little verbal release was supposed to help some, and maybe it had, but it sure as hell was not enough. He rubbed his temples with the balls of his palms. You were still moaning, bordering on whimpering. 

And he thought he’d already had it bad. Never would he ever get your sounds out of his head. 

Steb’s track pants started to feel tighter. 

Shit. This? Now?

And if it couldn't get any worse, he started to actually make out the sounds of you touching yourself. You were so wet, a soft squelch that differed heavily from a steady shower stream. Steb sighed. Defeated. If he truly intended to leave, he’d already be gone. Besides, he couldn't make it all the way home with this imposing erection.

A metal battle ensued, all while being swayed too heavily with the symphony of your intoxicating noises filling the air and rattling around in his head. 

Bold of you, he thought. 

Maybe I could be bold, too. 

That too-familiar heat of shame once again set deep in his features. The scales on his face fluttered with it.

That isn’t right – that wouldn't feel right.

Clinging to a semblance of his well-defined morals, Steb had decided to retreat back to the gym. He’d figure out a way to spar with the dummy despite the painful erection, until his arousal would eventually, inevitably fade, then he’d go home. 

That had been his plan, anyway. Once he’d heard a name–his name–fall from your lips among the sea of tantalizing sounds, things took a turn. To add fuel to the fire, you were pleasuring yourself to the thought of him.  

He couldn’t stop himself. His legs seemed to move on their own accord, stepping toward the line of shower stalls, closer to your beckoning call. The source of all of the steam led him to the stall you were in. Your workout clothes from earlier were in a pile on the bench just outside the stall. He remembered the way you’d looked in those leggings – in that form-fitting tank top. Leaving just enough to the imagination. You were incredible in every way, from your skin down to the marrow. 

Your voice chirped from inside the stall. Steb’s ears continued to jerk, cataloging every word.

“Shit – Steb – yes– ” You whispered in breathy gasps, and the audible sound of your fingers working inside of you filled his ears. Steb felt like he was shaking in his spot, body thrumming with tension. He was one elongated frayed wire, and he was ready to snap at any moment.

“Pin me down– please – yes– ” 

His jaw dropped. You were recalling the recent sparring session, specifically when he’d gotten the better of you and had you pinned in just seconds after evading your parry. You’d looked like a dream beneath him, dewy skin and lips parted as you panted, trying to catch your breath. Really thinking back to that exact moment, Steb had, admittedly, imagined the two of you in the same position – but in a much, much different setting. 

His cock jumped at the memory, the same one you’re seemingly getting off to. He couldn't help it, but he palmed himself over his pants. That simple motion only made it worse. The shower curtain was an arm’s length away. He could reach out, rip it open, and take you the way his body is screaming for him to. He could pin you down on those slippery, wet tiles and spread you open to his liking. Nobody was around so he could make you scream his name, forcing you to leave those soft whimpers behind.

The sudden switch in his demeanor to the more deeply-rooted could scare you off, though. That was the last thing he’d want to do. 

Steb palmed at himself again. It wasn’t enough, not after he’d heard how wet your pussy sounded with your fingers thrusting inside. You were probably so soft, so warm. You’d probably taste like heaven, too. Everything about you was so sweet, your sex would be no different.

Shit. I want this. I want her.

But what if it’s not right?

She wants me. 

At this rate, by the time Steb would come to a decision you would have already finished, and he’d still be hard and flustered and left feeling completely deviant. He wanted to get you there. You’d finish–fall apart–because of him. This may not have been his ideal way of your first time together, but–

Enough thinking.

Steb knocked against the outer shower wall, hitting his knuckles against the surface in a familiar rhythm, one you’d surely recognize. It’s the same way he’d knock when he’d visit you at your desk, or when he’d come up behind you so as not to startle you. You’d started to knock back too, saving your words of greeting by reason of something akin to solidarity. Connected – that’s how Steb felt with you. 

He heard how you very abruptly paused what you were doing, and you were dead silent. Breath held in your chest. He felt his heartbeat thick in his temples. His ears twitched in an attempt to pick up any sort of sound you could manage. Time stood still until finally, you knocked back. Relief flooded him, a sense of belonging. There was no turning back now, now that you knew he was there. Listening. His heart thundered in his chest. 

“Steb...”

There was his name again. Louder than when you’d gasped it before, cadenced now as an invitation. He never could say no to you. Quickly, and sloppier than he’d normally undress, Steb began to peel off his gym clothes. Everything was tossed in a haphazard pile beside yours on the bench, which was only given a spare glance one, maybe two times. He had more important things happening than to worry about himself being abnormally untidy, and it was all going to unfold behind the very curtain that separated the two of you now. With one final act of equanimity, Steb lifted a tentative hand to grasp the edge of the curtain, and slowly slid it open.

With your back to him, you stood under the stream of water, slightly hunched forward as your hand pressed itself firmly against the tiled wall. Steb watched how the water rolled off your shoulders and down your body. He gulped, and cleared his throat. Your head picked itself up and you slowly turned to face him, your eyes visibly lighting up and a breath catching in your throat when you saw him.

Just as sure as Steb was that you were taking a moment to check him out, he was doing the very same with you – and you were even more perfect than anything he could have ever imagined. Your cheeks were very evidently darkened with arousal, flush with the remnants of an ebbing climax that’d been forced away by interruption. The stream of water now cascaded down your breasts and abdomen, your hair damp and formed to your neck. A bashful smile etched its way on your lips when you caught him looking. You really would be the death of him. Maybe he’d already died and this was his purgatory. A test. 

Your voice brought him back to the moment, and if this were a test, Steb would have already failed long before now. 

“You’re here.”

Was that excitement in your voice – relief? Maybe you were incredulous, your cool tone slightly tinted with shock. Whatever it was, your expression was what Steb was studying. He took a deep, centering breath and slowly nodded his head. Beyond his control his cock jumped when you approached him and his facial scales fluttered. Blinking at him, your palm met the center of his chest, your gorgeous eyes staying on his. A heavy layer of tension settled among the steam. Now that you were in front of him, bare and willing, he was growing more anxious in contrast to the intrepid man he’d made himself out to be just moments ago. 

Sobered was how he started to feel upon feeling the heat of your hand on his bare chest, his thumping heart beating beneath it. He felt shameful for wanting to come right out and wallow in his fantasies, now reasoning with himself that you were worth far more to him than a quick, rough fuck. Steb really admired you, cared for you in a way that was far beyond lust. 

Extinguished was the fire in your eyes, instead widening with concern as Steb averted his gaze and pinned his ears to his head. He couldn't help those telltale signs of his that you’d surely notice; you'd gotten to know each other quite well over time, and understanding just how expressive Steb could be without uttering so much as a word was a huge part of that. It was silent, save for the spray of water pouring from the shower head and the smacking of the water meeting the floor tiles. He couldn’t keep his gaze from you for long, and when he met your eyes again, they were desperately trying to decipher his.

He parted his lips, trying to find the words. “I…”

I want you–

I don’t want to scare you away–

I want this–

I don’t want to ruin this–

I– 

“Hey, hey.” You cupped his jaw in your hands, just barely brushing against the gills there. Your palms were soft against them. Reassuring. “It’s okay,” you told him. He straightened up a little – hadn’t even realized he’d been slightly slumped forward. Out of character. You offered a sincere smile upon noticing his self-correction. “We don't need to do anything.”

You were so kind, so considerate; it made his heart throb for you – but you were misinterpreting Steb’s hesitance. His lips twisted. You caught his expression–of course you did–and quickly went to amend. Your hands left his face and instead grabbed at his hands. His eyes followed where your fingers were entangled with his. The realization that this was the first time you’d held his hand hit him with a turbulent force, as if the very presence of your naked body before him wasn’t enough to make him want to fall to his knees. 

“I never intended to pressure you,” you said quietly. Sheepish. It was your turn to avert your gaze. 

Registering that he’d given you no other cues to go off of, Steb released his hand from yours and gently pinched your chin between his thumb and index finger. When he got you to meet his eyes again, he heard the faintest whimper in your throat. The moment froze in time, something so incredibly soft and tentative in comparison to how he’d imagined this would go, before he’d stepped into the shower with you and doused by the gravity of it all. 

“We can just… be like this. Take it slow,” you suggested. It was unmistakable the way you were angling your face even the slightest bit closer to his. “I like you, Steb… and I care about you.”

If only you knew…

Steb really didn’t think he could take it any slower than this, but it was savory – something to luxuriate in. He could tell you how strongly he felt the same for you, but Steb always did believe that actions spoke louder than words – so he leaned in and kissed you. You accepted him right away, eager and excited at the newness of it all. Wall-crumbling. Your lips were incredibly plush compared to how he knew his felt, and if the grippier feeling of his own bothered you even in the slightest, you definitely didn’t make it known. Stepping forward, he followed you back under the main spray of water. It splashed atop his head, soaking his hair and running down his face to where his lips met yours, seeping into his mouth.

You leaned even further into Steb, pressing yourself into his erection that never had fully gone away, hardening now in response to the taste of you. The pressure made him groan against your lips, and with a bit of surprise, you broke yourself away. A glance down at Steb’s cock made heat flood to his cheeks and to the pointed tips of his ears. You bit your lip, thoughts visibly filtering their way through your head until you seemingly landed on one; you first asked him permission with a look, the subtle tilt of your head. 

Steb took your hand in his. Nodded. A strong hint of desperation. 

“Show me,” you offered, more than willing to indulge him. Gently, and with a thick swallow of air, Steb guided your hand down his body with the cascading water until he felt your fingers brush against his cock, throbbing in time with the beat of his heart. The very sensation of you fondling him was enough to make him want to come, but he staved it off, instead letting himself get lost in the way your eyes continued to search his with every brush of your fingers and stroke of your palm. It wasn’t until your fingers finally made contact with the short frills lining the underside of his cock when Steb allowed himself to groan a little louder, letting his eyelids shut to bask in the sensation. 

He heard you giggle, a soft sound that came from a devious little smile of satisfaction. You were a fast learner, Steb had already known that, but a whole new meaning shone upon that trait of yours when you started pumping his cock in a way that had him struggling to keep his self-control. Even with the water pouring over top, your hand was so soft, so adamant on working out all of the tension you’d inferred he’d been carrying. He didn’t want to finish like this – didn’t want to come in your hand only for this all to come to an end so soon – so he chewed his bottom lip and grabbed your wrist, effectively stopping you. The gesture didn’t faze you though, and you only grew more determined.

“Let me do this for you,” you proposed. “Please, Steb… I want to do this for you.”

You must have really picked up on how much Steb needed this. 

Again, he was not one to deny you in any capacity, certainly not now as your fingers were wrapped around his cock. He’d come, but Steb had quickly decided that it would not be the end; there was so much he wanted with you, and he wouldn't wait another day. He nodded another go-ahead and removed his fingers from around your wrist, allowing you to pick up where you’d left off. You resumed with a crawl at first, teasingly almost. Steb let you do with him what you pleased, knowing full-well he was going to come any moment. Your palm slid so smoothly along his cock, your hand twisting and tugging. 

Water dripped off your pebbled nipples, enticing enough for Steb to pinch one between his fingers. You gasped, doubling your efforts as he pinched and tugged a little rougher, then switched to palm at your breast, kneaded under his large hand. He leaned forward to kiss you again, this time messier and more consuming. A dizziness settled upon him, just as a swell did at the base of his cock. Ears flattened against his head, Steb came with a drawn-out groan, one that was sure to have tumbled down your throat. The mess he’d made rinsed easily from your hand. Swirled down the small, grated drain. 

Legs a little shaky and breathing ragged, Steb broke away from your lips, drunkenly admiring how yours were parted and kiss-swelled, a tad raw from mingling with his rougher ones. His body felt more relaxed than before, but he was still half-hard, only confirming his predetermined mission to have this continue here and now. Steb tilted his forehead to meet yours. Resolute, he took a deep breath and released it with a low growl, nearly imperceivable. He flashed his teeth as his tongue licked along his bottom lip. 

“I… want you.” 

“I want you, too,” you admitted, your nose brushing against his. “But I think you knew that.”

Cheeky. You were cheeky – knew he’d heard you pleasuring yourself to the thought of him. 

Steb agreed with a considering hum. He really did want you – wanted to feel you, taste you, be inside of you. Everything and more. As much as he could accomplish before the water ran too cold for even himself.

You pressed your lips to his once again, a brief peck. “I’m just going to come out and say it,” you began, straightening yourself and running your fingers down his chest. Traced along the skin that bordered the jagged gills on his side. He’d sparred with you, trained with you, but the feeling never was quite like this when it came to your touch. “I want you to have me, Steb. I need it, I need you.”

The desperation in your voice betrayed how you probably wanted to sound, an attempt at being brazenly seductive. The plea laced in your tone was its own kind of attractive, enticing enough to make his cock jump for not the first time right in front you, and definitely not the last. 

Steb wet his bottom lip. Groaned. If only you knew what images he’d conjured up before coming in here.

He backed you against the wall just outside of the heaviest spray of water, held your hips to steady you, and kicked your feet further apart. Steb grabbed his cock, stroking himself a few times as he watched the way your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths of anticipation. You lifted your leg and allowed Steb to hold your knee against his narrow hip. The head of his cock brushed against your slicked pussy, parting your lips too easily. He was still sensitive from when you’d jerked him but that didn’t stop his eagerness from wanting to enter you, to feel you strangle him. 

“Steb,” you whispered. Your hands grasped his shoulders, careful of the fins that fell with the curve of them down the blades. He shook himself back to the very real moment, a moment before things would never be the same again. “Please… I want to feel you inside of me.”

He’d surely assume he was stuck in a torturous dream if you weren’t here grounding him to this tangible reality. Your eyes stayed locked with Steb’s as he guided his cock into you. He shivered with the sensation, muttering a quiet curse at how warm, soft, and wet you felt around him. You were holding your breath, digging your nails into his slick, toughened skin. 

You shivered. Gasped. “You’re so… fuck–”

Your head flew back when he buried himself completely, a swell of pride flooding him knowing that he was the one who was doing this to you, making you feel so full like this. Steb understood he was a bit bigger than the average human male, a little different in overall appearance, but you took him completely like the perfect thing he knew you were. Like you were made for him.

Rather than moving right away, Steb stayed buried inside of you, unmoving, peppering appreciative kisses along your jaw and down your neck as you adjusted to the feeling. You whimpered again, so desperate, subtly jerking your hips to hint at your need. Steb chuckled, huffed out a sigh. He started to move, slowly dragging his cock back out through the tight channel of your cunt until only the head remained before nearly slamming himself back in. You gasped, nails digging deeper. Steb’s scales fluttered at the sting of his skin breaking, a newly discovered oddity. He continued to thrust in earnest, gripping your hips as hard as you were clinging to his shoulders. 

That innate, carnal instinct began to seep through when Steb’s blunt front teeth started grazing your skin, salty with the same notes of your sweat from earlier. You tasted even better than you’d smelt, and he kept mouthing at you, starving for more. When he found your collarbone, he noted where the uniform would cover, took your skin between his teeth, and bit down. You keened, audibly pleased with the amount of pressure he’d tried – so he curled his fingers around the back of your neck to pull you closer and did it again, and again, growing bolder with every gasp and moan of approval you could muster, and experimentally factored in his sharper teeth further back, taking more of you into his mouth. The taste of you could be addicting if he weren't careful – but he allowed himself to indulge, to commit this entire experience with you to his long term memory. With every sound you made he swore it couldn't be topped until your lips would part again, gracing his twitching ears with yet an even better one, proving him wrong every time. 

“Feels so good,” you moaned, breathless. It was music to his ears. “Don’t stop.”

Wouldn't dream of it.

He’d fuck you like this forever if it were possible. He’d never leave your cunt, never remove your skin from between his teeth, never release your body from beneath his fingertips. Everything seemed to spur him on. You were so slick, already dripping around his cock and thighs and the it was so distinct – the sounds of Steb fucking you in the shower. Despite being surrounded by water and moisture in the air, he felt himself getting dehydrated. Aiding in his efforts, the humidity and your increased body heat were consuming him. It was all too much now, but he wouldn't stop. Not until you’d come around his cock, not until he’d allow your tight cunt to drain every last bit of tension from his being, every last drop. 

He’d never been like this for anyone else. He’d never tapped into those deeper desires, acted upon them until now. There was way more Steb knew he could potentially be capable of with the right partner, but this was only the first time with you. If you were willing, he’d really open up. Devour you whole. Eat you alive. Break you down and build you up only to do it all over again. Self-indulgent but reverential. 

Shakily raking his fingers through the damp strands of hair that had fallen in his face, Steb bared his teeth, hissing at how tight you were getting. It was becoming harder for him to keep up his current pace. You were so close, teetering on the brink. He felt it. Saw it. It was like the life within you was slowly fleeing your body, your bones doing little to keep you upright. 

“I’ve got you,” Steb assured you. You nodded pathetically, hanging onto him for dear life as he chased the feeling up the steep incline. He removed his hand from its firm grasp on your neck, finding your clit instead. You whined as Steb rapidly circled it in time with his thrusts, and soon your legs gave out, pussy fluttering with your climax. Feeling your body let go, Steb’s did the same. The swell of his cock burst in the clutch of your cunt. Filled you until he was spent. The adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins practically jettisoned with his climax, leaving him unsteady and out of breath. Clear-headed. Hunched over you now, Steb’s cock throbbed inside of you. He met your tired, satiated gaze and you cracked a smile to match that look in your eyes. 

“Holy shit,” you announced. Breathless and winded. You awkwardly moved against him, wiggling yourself free as he pulled out with a slight wince from the sensitivity. Steb stepped backward into the cooled water, gingerly rinsing your shared fluids from himself. Stepping aside to make room for you to join, he hummed in agreement. 

‘Holy shit’ was right. 

You had to be sore; the few steps you were taking were done with a wince. Steb flashed a concerned look your way, guiding you under the water and aiding you as you washed the sex from your skin.

“I didn't know you were so…” You paused, trying to find the words as you angled different parts of your body under the stream. Steb wasn't even sure how to finish your train of thought. “Sorry. I just never would have expected any of that from you.”

Amused, Steb arched a brow. Facing him again, he noticed the darkened marks along your chest where his teeth had apparently broken your skin, his fingers ghosting along the same path his mouth had taken. There was a feeling of guilt there, for having lost himself in the throes of it all, for having tossed his caution to the wind; but when you cheekily grinned up at him with reassurance, showing Steb just how much you enjoyed the whole experience – that prideful rush flooded him once again.  

“I guess it’s true, what they say,” you mused. Inquisitively, Steb tilted his head as he reached around you to shut off the water. You didn’t supply anything to punctuate your statement, and you instead giggled quietly, shaking your head while you wrapped yourself in a towel. 

From just behind the opened curtain, Steb watched quietly to the side as you dressed into clean civvies. He didn’t mind remaining bare to you for a little while longer. It felt freeing – you knowing him that much deeper now. Besides, he needed a bit of time to regulate himself after that exertion; he’d probably turn the water back on and take some time to himself to rehydrate after you’d gone. 

“Someone could have heard us,” you whispered, as if your spoken words were the worst amongst the scandalous and obscene sounds that had been let out this evening. Steb knew that no one would have been in the area, but he had to admit – someone hearing how good he’d made you feel would not have been the worst thing for his ego. Steb was well-respected and well-liked, but most knew him only on the surface level, if that. They knew him as a quiet, reserved officer. Always prepared for anything the job had to throw at him. ‘Ladies man’ and ‘smooth talker’ definitely weren't traits one would use to describe him – not that he considered himself either, anyway. Maybe it was the slightly possessive nature in Steb, but perhaps that new junior ‘hotshot’ would stop flirting with you if he'd heard how you'd whined and gasped the name of the higher ranked officer. 

Steb cared for and respected you too much to let his own ego and unavoidable proprietorial nature overshadow that. 

Now fully dressed and your bag slung over your shoulder, you reached for Steb’s hand. Your gaze scanned his naked body, leaned against the stall wall. Confusion etched into your features. “You’re not heading home?”

Straightening, Steb shook his head. “Need a moment,” he stated matter-of-factly. His internal temperature had noticeably started to level out, matching that of the chilled air that had settled from the dissipating steam. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Your voice was so sweet. Hopeful. Giddy, almost. He nodded. 

Of course he’d see you tomorrow. You’d probably want to spar with him again after your shift, and maybe he’d offer to make you dinner. He’d make one of your favorites, a dish that you always raved about and were oblivious to how Steb had learned the recipe a long time ago with the hope that he’d get to make it for you one day. 

Hopefully after dinner he’d get to have dessert. Now that he knew how truly delectable you were, there was going to be nothing that would stop him from tasting you again. 

The thought made Steb’s scales flicker. A blush darkened your cheeks and you bit your lip – a mutual understanding. Delicately holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, he let you read the promise held within his eyes. Before you turned to leave, you kissed him again. It was quick. Chaste. When you pulled away he felt your essence still buzzing on his lips.

Watching you walk away, Steb sucked in a reverent breath. Held it in with your pheromones swimming in his senses until you were out of sight and released with a murmured endearing phrase of departure. 

Neither of you had thought that it'd be possible for you to get pregnant–which is not the best excuse to not have been using protection–but miraculous things happen when you least expect them to.

You’d planned on telling Steb the news on a picnic to his favorite quiet spot on a well-deserved day off, but instead you’d caved in on yourself early and told him one late night when he’d just gotten home after a long, hectic shift. He reacted pretty much the way you’d expected him to. It was confusion, at first. Motionless and wide-eyed. It was actually comical in a way, since he’d literally just walked through the door and was in the process of shimmying his duffle bag from his shoulder. You repeated yourself, and that’s when you saw it click. Steb’s brows knitted together, and he ripped off his beret before practically running to you and enveloping you in a hug. He whispered his surprise in your ear, his pure disbelief – his concise utterances all layered heavily with excitement. 

When it really started to settle in, you weren't even sure if you knew the first thing about carrying a non-human baby. Steb wasn’t exactly sure what to expect, either; he’d been hatched from a soft-shelled egg laid by his mother, but his father was human, which is why Steb has many human features: like having hair and eyebrows, and blunt teeth. The sexes of the parents were reversed this time, so neither of you had a faintest clue how it would work, or if it was even viable.

Using the extensive database at the station, Steb was able to find the sole doctor in Piltover who specialized in non-human medicine, holding a practice in the quieter part of the city. This doctor helped tremendously, and had better insight than the previous doctor you’d tried, someone who had too much unspoken judgment paired with zero knowledge of Steb’s species. The whole situation was unprecedented, but that didn’t stop your new doctor from giving it their all. 

From very early on, the two of you were assured that the baby was healthy and growing as it should, comparative to a human fetus carried by a human mother. You were expected to carry your child the full term and have similar symptoms as any other expectant mother.  At home, you had done plenty of your own research, and Steb had read up as much as he could when it was slow at the station. Being a practiced medic meant he was able to retain a little more of the medical aspects of it all, and he proved just how dutiful of a partner and father you knew he’d be. Steb almost anticipated your needs, knew what techniques to try when you were uncomfortable and sore, and made sure you were eating plenty of nutritious foods. 

Taking into account what you’d researched, it really did feel like a normal, human pregnancy – just with something a little bit different growing inside of you. Both of you slowly grew more confident. Less time was spent worrying about the unknown and instead that time was used to set up the nursery, gather the most important items necessary, and still make sure there was time set aside for the two of you as a couple.

As the weeks turned into months, and with every check up, your baby had similar behaviors to human fetuses; but the three of you–Steb, your doctor, and yourself–knew that the baby would need to be born in a similar way to its father, so it was suggested and agreed upon that you would deliver in water.

The two of you wanted your child to be born at home, and a proper birth plan was made. When your water broke, Steb was on shift. You quickly called the station – and Steb must've sprinted the entire way home, no doubt weaving his way through citizens promenading along the streets, because when he arrived he was out of breath and eerily bone dry. His concerning condition shoved to the back burner, Steb immediately went into action. He filled the tub, grabbed everything on the list the two of you had detailed prior, carried you in, and called the doctor. You’d strongly encouraged him to take a quick, cool shower to rehydrate, but he denied, concisely stating that being by your side for every moment was the most important thing.

Labor was no walk in the park. You were pretty sure you’d nearly broken Steb’s fingers with how hard you’d been squeezing his hand. Ever the calm and collected medic, he coolly guided you through it all, modeling your breathing and providing the doctor with an extra hand when needed. Between his tasks, he would reassure you in his own, unspoken way when you started to visibly falter.

A final, prolonged push and you felt it. Breathless, you looked to Steb first, gauging his reaction. He was panting in disbelief and was utterly motionless with shock, staring wide-eyed into the discolored water. His hand was still locked with yours, but it grew limp in your grasp, distracted. When you finally looked between your bent legs, you saw a faint glimmer of scales, and the most beautiful set of little webbed fingers and toes as they curled up in the water.

You don’t remember the last time you’d seen Steb tear up – but he was absolutely beside himself when he reached in the water with shaky hands to carefully grab his baby girl. Cradled in his arms, she started to cry with her first breaths of oxygen. He shushed her softy, slowly rocking her back and forth. Steb looked at you with all the love in the world, and the rush of hormones caused you to start bawling.  Through blurry eyes you watched as she blinked her own bright, glassy ones up at him. He blinked back, stray tears streaming down his cheeks. 

You were totally exhausted, but you wanted to commit her to memory, as if you’d never see her again. You were in awe of the little being that you’d just pushed out of you – a spitting image of the man who was holding her.

Her skin, a paler shade of teal, glistened with moisture. She already had quite a bit of thick hair that had grown on the top of her head. Too small to protrude at this age, her pointed ears were instead pinned back against her head. On her face under her eyes were pink shimmery scales and frills, similar to her dad’s only miniscule and a little lighter in comparison. The same, striped patterns stretched across her tiny body. Steb adjusted her to lay her head on his other arm, and during the switch you saw the fins that looked like little bumps line her spine up to the back of her head.

You wondered if this was exactly the way her dad looked after he’d hatched, when his infant body started to take shape.

She had your nose, but basically everything else belonged to Steb. Flawless. 

He said her name, the one you’d agreed on long before that moment; it came from Steb’s homeland. It fit her perfectly. 

A million promises swam in his eyes as he kept his adoring gaze on her. He looked so at ease with his newborn daughter in his arms. Natural. Fatherhood suited Steb for sure.

Closing your eyes and tilting your head back, you recalled just how unsure and anxious the two of you had felt at the beginning, after the initial shock had faded. You never could have imagined what it would be like, living in a moment quite like this one.