Feels like forever even if forever's tonight

// Got something inside, don't hide it, like dynamite ignitin' //

He's not normally so forward, but she's been giving him green lights that are like flashing neon and he has never been accused of being careful or shy. He's not one to dip his toes in, he wants to get his hair wet and everything, all at once. That rush—the fall, the way the water catches you, the temperature shift punching you in the teeth—that's what living is.

The slide of her fingers through his hair sends a delightful chill racing down his whole body. Baby, she says again, pressed against him like the answer to a need he didn't know before her. Gods, he can't help himself. One hand traces the small of her back, fingers flexing against the curve she pours so easily into him—a shape he wants to memorize with his hands. "Like the sky never should have given you up," he murmurs, head tilting to catch the heat of her cheek, greedy for every brush, every breath.

His mouth continues to follow the path of his want—slow, reverent—pressing kisses along the line of her neck, then lower, down to where the swell of her breasts rise above the cut of her dress. He breathes her in like she’s the only air that ever mattered. His lips linger there as his voice drops low and rough against her skin. "Don't think I've had a proper sampling yet though."

His other hand glides from the curve of her ass to the inside of her thigh, his fingers grazing under the hem of her bunched dress—an opportunity he’s not above taking advantage of. They skim feather-light across the remaining edge of fabric tucked between her legs, where the heat of her gathers. Every nerve in him is trained on the way she shifts in response, intent on making it all up to her, and then some.

Kaisel

// Take the music, learn to use it, turn it up 'til your speakers blow fuses //

suddenly i'm spinning like a ceiling fan, around and 'round we go

His hand traces the small of her back and it feels like fire, inviting and warm, spreading through her in traces of lightning through her veins. She tries hard not to let the flush paint her face, but between the alcohol and the food, it splotches against her shoulders and cheeks, the tips of her ears. Even as his actions fluster her and warm her up, she’s still coy and nuzzles in as he murmurs, allowing her a soft little breathy laugh. “But then you wouldn’t be here, would you?” She teases.

Keeping herself pressed against him, Caly’s fingertips thread through his dark hair and spread down his neck and shoulders, nails biting into his skin to leave little temporary marks as his head dives down and her own lifts up - chin angled toward the starry sky that had been her childhood home.

Amber eyes slip shut as he nestles into the crook of her chest, his breath warm against the night air and sparking more of that splotching heat against her skin. She’s acutely aware of each movement he makes, his fingertips brushing against the hem of her dress. And with the momentary pause of breath, he slips under it, heat seeking for the space she’s very much hoping he’s looking for.

As if to help, her legs widen around him, using her arms around him to hoist her up a touch higher, granting space for his fingers as they brush against her thigh. “What’re you waitin’ for, Kaisel?” She probes breathily, pressing her cheek against the side of his head again as his fingertips brush against the edge of fabric that separates them. It’s at this point she adjusts just a fraction, inviting, guiding, grinding her hips down against him to press against the fingers he’d placed there so deliciously, and granting him the gift of a low whine of need against his ear for the trouble.

Calypso

suddenly i will never be alone

// Got something inside, don't hide it, like dynamite ignitin' //

Oh, so green light with Caly means dive in and don't fucking come up for air until you're near drowning, and even then, consider if the air is worth it. Here he thought he might tease a bit more before guiding her to the next way he meant to make it up to her, the place he hoped to bed her if all went well, but fuck it, who's he to deny her wants here and now, burger joint be damned.

He tilts his head into the thread of her nails in his hair, everything in him sparking with the sensation of the drag, no different than a match to kerosene. She leaves little marks behind and he wants each and every one. He leans in, shifting her higher and setting the arch of her back against the edge of the table to free up the hand at her spine. That hand comes to cup her breast, palming the weight of it through the fabric before tugging the neckline down—peeling her open like a favorite sweet, unwrapped and all his. His mouth finds her exposed nipple, teasing at first, tongue tracing around it before he sets his mouth against it in earnest.

Her voice is all the encouragement he needs. She's pulling him faster than he can hang on, but fuck if he isn't down for the ride.

Her shift against him pulls a groan straight from his chest, another flare of want blazing through him, his jeans straining to contain it with her pressed so warm and wanting against him. He breaks that final barrier, fingers gliding beneath the last scrap of fabric, his breath catching hard against her chest at how slick she already feels.

He doesn’t hesitate. One finger, then two, slide inside her—warm, wet, perfect. "Fuck—Caly," he exhales roughly, like he's already losing a grip on how to speak with her perched on him like this. He curls his fingers against her before sliding them deep, gathering her, already addicted to the feel. He pulls back just long enough to bring those fingers to his mouth and taste her fully, a wicked smile following the sampling. "Just like I thought, my new favorite flavor." His other hand drops low, pressing a thumb to her clit, drawing tight, deliberate circles.

Kaisel

// Take the music, learn to use it, turn it up 'til your speakers blow fuses //

suddenly i'm spinning like a ceiling fan, around and 'round we go

If he asked, the only comment he’d be receiving is it’s Torchline, baby, because if there was one place it didn’t seem to matter when and where, it was here. And while she could have had a bit more tact, he’d left her waiting, so why not embrace the moment in its entirety, where she can reap the reward of his ultimate attention. So she’s malleable as he shifts and adjusts her, curved against him while also leaned back enough to free his hand.

The slip of the golden dress she wears is not difficult at all to tug the neckline down, and it still clings to the rest of her curves as he reveals her, humming a chimed but gentle note of encouragement as the warmth of his tongue teases against her dusty nipple, need and desire wrapped up into the pace of an all consuming fire.

She can’t help the breathy laugh that escapes her, head tossed back as golden curls spill down her spine. It’s a laugh that breaks off into a beautiful sound of “yeah, Kai?” breathed out in a moan, his name on her lips, honey to pour down his throat so she can get what she wants. And gods if she doesn’t get it, if he doesn’t provide her with it, the feel of his fingers as they slip into her, a mere promise of what he has to offer before he’s withdrawing.

And it’s with amber eyes of desire that she tilts her head back, watching him as he lifts his fingers to his lips, getting a taste with a handsomely wicked smile that graces his face at the result. Her own is coy as it is sultry, the splotches of her flush leaving her skin pink and bright in the moonlight, but it’s her eyes that are dark with desire, about to test him with a roll of her hips against the hard desire she can feel restrained in the short shorts he wears, when he beats her to it. His thumb presses against her clit and, not unlike a livewire, does she roll into the deliberate circles he traces, forced to bite down on her lower lip lest she let this entire portion of Haulani know what he was doing to her.

Instead, she whines through her nose, a needy sound that has her pitching forward – not for a kiss, even if it seems like it at first – but to aim for the side of his head, to trail her lips and light nibbles against his ear when she speaks in a low, honeyed voice. “You’d better decide now if you’re gonna fuck me on this table or if y’want a more respectable place.”

Calypso

suddenly i will never be alone

// Got something inside, don't hide it, like dynamite ignitin' //

She comes alive under his touch, and the sounds she makes are something he needs in a way he never knew before. Each whimper, each breathy moan is proof—he's wanted, he's worthy of her, that he can drag her into the same heat she’s roasting him with. It feeds his hunger, stokes the hard press against his zipper that's nearing painful, every shift she provides a lesson in restraint that’s fast slipping.

Then she leans in with teeth and sugar, a test in the shape of a challenge, and he meets it without hesitation. He made her wait once—he won’t make that mistake again. The burger cook can fuck right off.

A rough sound tears through his clenched jaw as he surges to his feet, taking her with him, the table rattling as her ass hits it, fries and cola scattering like afterthoughts. "I can’t take another fucking second," he breathes, wild with the taste of her, the smell of her, the feel of her as his fingers fumble at the zipper of his shorts, yanking them down like they’ve burned him.

He steps between her spread knees, his erection pressing thick and aching against the soaked heat of her panties. The jolt of it makes his spine snap straight, his hips already aching for the next move. He bows over her, one hand sliding up to brush her cheek—reverent, just for a moment—before it tangles into her hair, tugging just enough to tilt her head back so he can devour her mouth.

His other hand dips beneath the gathered hem of her dress, teasing her clit with a final pass of his thumb—once, twice—before he hooks the fabric aside. He hovers at her entrance, the head of him nudging just enough to feel her slick warmth pulse in response. Maybe he’ll make her wait just a little longer, if only for the raw, devastating satisfaction of finally feeling all of her wrapped around him.

Kaisel

// Take the music, learn to use it, turn it up 'til your speakers blow fuses //

suddenly i'm spinning like a ceiling fan, around and 'round we go

The rough sound that tears through him is one that sends her bones alight in her lustful fire, unable to respond more than the little squeak of excitement as he surges up, her hands and arms tightening in his hair and around his neck. But he holds her with ease and she’s certainly not afraid of falling, even as she’s sat down on the table. Incredibly glad to have slid some of the food aside to make space, her legs hook around his hips the second he’s freed himself.

Her dress is hitched up more in the process and she sinks back onto her elbow to peer up at him, flushed and golden and ready. She can feel him there, waiting, but he doesn’t give it to her just yet, instead opting for the reverent and brief moment that has her peering up at him with desire. And then that hand threads through her hair, tugging it back to claim her mouth in a kiss that she shamelessly moans into.

Jolting with each pass of his thumb over her clit, Caly’s teeth snag at Kaisel’s lower lip as he finally starts to get into motion. Only to feel as he hesitates last second, like this moment is one to be treasured and remembered. Like this is the moment he’s going to think about when he’s alone back in his barracks of the Dragoons (as far as she knows, she knows nothing about the Dragoons and how they live).

Regardless, the young attuned is happy to provide the view, breaking the kiss with a panting shift, hitching her leg higher to press him in deeper to her waiting warmth, her hand snagging his empty one not tangling in her hair to press it back to the swell of her breast. “Don’t make me beg.” She purrs, even if the tone of her voice edges toward pleading, stuck in this position until he decides to dive in and she finally gets a chance to feel all of him.

Calypso

suddenly i will never be alone

// Got something inside, don't hide it, like dynamite ignitin' //

She looks ripe for the taking. Every flush that blooms along her curves, that low-lidded stare she pins him with, the way her mouth hangs just slightly open—breath hot and heavy with need. She’s catastrophically beautiful like this. He knows he’ll revisit this moment often.

The tightening of her legs around him, dragging him closer to her heat, starts to run through the edge of his restraint. And then her hand finds his, presses it to the curve of her breast like it belongs there—like it always has. The second he cups her, her pert nipple ducking under the spread of his fingers, his hips jerk with a flicker of control fast slipping. Something about don’t make me beg attempts to ruin him. His tip grinds harder against her entrance, hips rocking just enough to make them both ache.

"I’m not sure I’d survive it if you did," he says, voice ragged—wrecked by the tension that finally, blessedly breaks as he sinks fully into her. The relief is instant, but still not enough, not with the way she grips him, not with how she burns. He presses harder against her breast, fingers teasing her nipple with a practiced flick, while he finds a rhythm that feels like salvation between her thighs. One hand fists in her hair as he groans into the side of her neck, teeth dragging along skin like she’s the only thing he needs—like he could live and die right here, with her wrapped around him and nothing else.

Kaisel

// Take the music, learn to use it, turn it up 'til your speakers blow fuses //

suddenly i'm spinning like a ceiling fan, around and 'round we go

She needs this, she needs him to take her, and its with all of those thoughts cresting into a bubble of need and desire, of guiding him where she can and letting him take the reins that Caly feels electric. Like each movement and jostle, jump of his hips, twitch of his cock, ignites her again and again. She’s alive, ripe and ready for the taking, for whatever conquest this Dragoon has taken part in.

And gods is it worth every excruciatingly long second.

Her lips part when his ragged voice reaches her, ready to offer some witty quip in response when he gives her exactly what she’s been asking for. He sinks into her and she moans a beautiful sound, unashamed, tightening around him as he finds a rhythm to suit the both of them. His hand at her breast only sparks more flares of desire, her head tilting enough that if he wanted to claim a space along her golden skin that she wouldn’t stop him. She wants all of him, marks, teeth, pinches, everything. And he provides beautifully.

Caly’s hips move enough to rock with him, to drive him deeper until her moans pitch higher, her heel driving into Kaisel’s lower back to keep him close. “Gods, Kaisel—” His name spills from her lips like a prayer, like worship as he fucks her. “Faster.” It drops like a plea, like each and every single thing he’s done so far since making it up to her has been exactly what the attuned had been hoping for. If there was a test he was trying to pass, Caly can assure him that he has.

Calypso

suddenly i will never be alone

// Got something inside, don't hide it, like dynamite ignitin' //

Her warmth wraps around him like it was made to keep him—tight, slick, and perfect. The way she moves with him, for him, it's enough to drive him to madness. She moans, and it’s a song he’s instantly addicted to, the kind you play on repeat until you’ve memorized even the inhales between the lyrics. He wants to learn her like that. Every inch. Every tell she gives when she’s cresting into pleasure, because gods, she’s flawless.

His name on her lips, said like that—fuck if that isn't a gospel he could get on his knees for day after day. He wants it etched into memory so deeply that just hearing it could send him hunting for the nearest surface, pinning her to a wall, any excuse just to lose himself in her again.

She's nearly begging now and it’s all he can do to ride the brink amid her keening, to give her everything she’s asking for and more. "Caly," he groans into her neck like she's just destroyed him, and she nearly has. "You're fucking perfect," His mouth closes over her breast as his hands slide to her waist, gripping tight, grounding himself in the rhythm of her. He gives her what she asked for—hips snapping faster, harder, relentless as he chases the spot inside her that will make her tremble. He's trying to pull her over the edge with him—not done until she's shaking in his arms and gasping his name like it’s the only one she remembers.

Kaisel

// Take the music, learn to use it, turn it up 'til your speakers blow fuses //

suddenly i'm spinning like a ceiling fan, around and 'round we go

He feels perfect, and she rides the high he offers her with her demands aired into the mostly empty space. He drives her crazy, an itch you can’t scratch, a desire and need within her that blooms with each and every thrust of his hips. It’s a perfect combination and if she had any doubts that he wouldn’t make it up to her, they’re gone in an instant.

Her name on his tongue is beautiful, one that she might find she craves in the dark din of night. And when he tells her she’s perfect, her body lights up further with fireworks scaling each and every nerve ending. She moves with him enough to grind against him, gasping a sound as his mouth finds her breast, as he crafts the perfect combination of everything overwhelming her senses, she tightens around him harder. Her voice pitches, the moans shorter and higher as he drives her to the edge, her fingertips twisting in his dark hair while her other hand digs into his shoulder.

She falls so quickly over that edge that she burns, his name on her lips as the waves of her climax rush around her, blood thundering in her ears. She burns with him, hoping he isn’t far behind and hoping so desperately that he’ll hold her after until she can get her feeling back in her toes.

She has no doubts he’d leave her in this state, though, so she rides it out with him and his own, her affection pouring in gold until they’re still as they finally come to a stop. Panting and sweaty and surprisingly needy, she guides his head up to her own, claiming a branding kiss to carry them through the rest of the night.

— FIN

Calypso

suddenly i will never be alone