#fffffffffffuck

Brain: Hey you look bored, do you want this DBH fic idea?

Me: Wha-? No. I have to-

Brain: It has time travel in it.

Me: ...

Brain: You Know I have your number bitch

———

they’ve been doing this thing of theirs for a while now, this slow, careful dance, and one night they’re out on the road between cities, both of them doing their own thing in the warmth of the fire with their shoulders barely brushing. fjord’s sharpening his blade and caleb’s scanning through his book, and at some point one of his hands falls to fjords knee, resting there in silence. fjord doesn’t say anything, doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t want to risk disturbing this new, delicate thing that hangs between them, so instead he puts his blade and whetstone away and places his hand atop calebs.

from the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees caleb smile.

fjord thinks caleb finishes reading up a chapter of his book, but he’s not certain - he’s finding it hard to focus on anything beyond the shape of caleb’s hand beneath his own, the fire-touched warmth of his skin and the callouses that remind fjord that caleb’s life has not been a gentle one.

fjord wishes he could make it a gentle one. he wishes he could give this man everything he deserves and more.

after a while - a minute, an hour, fjord doesn’t know - caleb starts shifting himself, tucking his books back into their holsters and making motions towards bed. “I should-,” he says, shifting and stirring but not yet moving his hand from fjord’s knee, “I should really go to bed now, fjord…”

caleb’s hand is still on fjord’s knee.

caleb’s hand is on fjords knee and his blue eyes have turned amber in the firelight and his skin is warm and his hand is turning underneath fjords, lacing their fingers together and squeezing soft and tentative even as caleb speaks of leaving, of going back to the small tent he shares with nott and fjord really wants to kiss him but more than that he really doesn’t want caleb to go.

“stay with me,” he says, blurts the words out, and catches the surprised, delighted expression that flickers across caleb’s face before it smooths into a soft, slightly uncertain smile. “stay with me tonight,” he says again, and runs his thumb against the back of caleb’s hand. please. “it’s- it’s getting awful cold out. wouldn’t want you to catch a chill.”

caleb’s faint smile grows a bit stronger. “you have a good point,” he says softly, and drops his gaze to where their joined hands lie between them. his smile grows again, and fjord cannot entirely tell if it’s due to the warmth of the fire or the warmth of skin pressed to skin, but he thinks he sees a slight flush rise in caleb’s cheeks.

gods, he looks so beautiful.

fjord watches as caleb lifts his head, looks at fjord, looks across the fire to where nott is dozing, her head in jester’s lap, and looks back.

“nott’ll be ok,” fjord reassures him, “jester’s taken quite a shine to that girl, y'know. i cant imagine the two menaces will mind bunkin’ up together.”

across the fire he sees jester lift her head with a wide grin, and nod just a little. damn trickster clerics, fjord thinks, always listening in.

“well,” caleb says, his voice soft and thoughtful and just barely edged with quiet teasing, “i suppose that i have no reason not to accept your kind offer, my friend.” he pauses, and smirks just a little. “for the good of both of our health, of course.”

“oh,” fjord replies, grinning back in kind, “of course. just for our health, nothing more.” he thinks he sees jester roll her eyes at the corner of his vision, but he doesn’t turn his head to check. caleb is too beautiful to look away from. 

they stand together, still hand in hand, and fjord leads the way over to his small tent. it’ll be a bit of a tight fit, but they both know this and fjord knows that he certainly doesn’t mind, and it seems that caleb doesn’t either. he summons a globe of softly glowing light once they’re inside the darkness of the tent, fjord watching enraptured the whole time, and they both strip down to their sleep clothes in silence. 

fjord’s the first into bed, of course - it’s his tent, and this was his suggestion, and so it’s not long until he’s settling down on his bedroll, pulling the blankets up to ward off the approaching chill of the night. caleb, still fussing with his books and his coat doesn’t seem to notice for a while, but when he turns around and notices fjord already in bed he freezes; a rabbit caught in the light of sudden uncertainty.

“c'mon,” fjord says, and lifts the blanket up, “scoot on in.”

for a single, heart-stopping moment he watches caleb shift uncertainly from foot to foot, and fears he might back out.

he doesn’t.

he just says “alright,” and joins fjord under the blankets. fjord lets them fall again, covering them both, and beneath the blankets he reaches out one hand, settling his arm loosely around caleb’s waist.

“this alright?” he whispers, and feels more than he sees caleb nod.

“yes,” caleb says, “yes, this is- this is fine.”

it’s more than fine, actually, if the way that caleb shuffles in and rests his forehead against fjord’s shoulder a few seconds later is any indication. fjord freezes for a moment, not entirely sure now of what to do, but then caleb sighs, and relaxes against his chest and beneath his arm and it immediately becomes so, so easy to pull him in closer, to splay his hand across caleb’s back and feel the rise and shape of his vertebrae, and then everything just… settles.

the tent is dark and silent save for the sound of their breathing, and fjord has never felt this comfortable lying on a few blankets above lumpy, rocky earth before.

it doesn’t take long for him to start dozing off, and he’s almost asleep when he feels caleb shift, and hears him speak again.

“thank you,” caleb says, and his voice is unusually serious even for him.

fjord blinks in the darkness. "for what?“ he asks.

“for this,” caleb replies, and leans forwards to kiss him.

ANON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

anon you killed me dead do you understand?? i’m blogging from beyond the grave holy FUCK