Chapter Text
The knocking of water on the windows increased as the night became darker. Encasing your home in a veil of rain and thunderstorms. You lay in bed, weak and sick. Having to take a short leave due to your dilemma, you found yourself unable to do anything productive beneath the recently washed thick covers of your bed. Breathing in the familiar scent of washing detergent that he too uses—it brought you a sense of warmth despite the cold weather. However, you felt yourself squirm beneath the sheets, yearning for something more to embrace you.
Then, a sudden call signals from your phone. Your heartbeat quickens at the unique ringtone only saved for one number, and one number only.
Suddenly finding the strength to reach out and answer it. “…Caleb?”
“Pipsqueak,” You realize from the background of the call, that he must’ve been at a dinner with his friends. He often told you about how insistent they were in hanging out. His gentle worry seeped through the phone and into your heart.You realize that he must’ve heard the hoarseness in your voice. For his voice raised ever so slightly in concern. The sound of worry that you simultaneously didn’t want to hear, but also desired. “Are you sick? Are you at your apartment? Is someone there with you?”
The questions. They were too much to process in your state, but ever so slowly—you spoke. “Yes, yes, and—no.” He heard your weakened chuckle, an attempt to lighten the situation. “Why’d you call?”
For a second of silence, you feel your heart beat in anticipation. “…I..” His words dragged on in hesitation. A clear desire to confess something, but held back due to uncertain circumstances. “I just wanted to check up on you. It’s been a while after all.” He placed the phone on his shoulder, checking the time on his wristwatch that you gave him on his birthday. “I’ll come to your place.”
“You’ll—?” Taken aback, you were momentarily awaken. “Caleb, you don’t have to.” You cough. Dryly.
Caleb on the other line chuckles. He stands up from his seat as you hear him bidding farewell to his friends, who seemed rather bummed. “It seems I have to.” He slings his bag onto his shoulders and strides towards the exit of the restaurant.
“It’s a long way—I’ll just ask Xavier to—“
“I’d rather it be me.” He cuts you off, giving no chance for any rebuttals. “Besides, this—Xavier would be sleeping as of now. I’m wide awake and ready, Pipsqueak.”
There was a momentary silence. Your head filling with all sorts of thoughts. All sorts of grateful prayers that you had someone like him in your life. Someone you can always rely on. Someone who never considers your needs to be a burden. Someone who, within the midnight rainfall—-will always be your roof, despite already having an umbrella of your own.
“You brought the spare key, right?” You feel yourself drifting off into sleep.
“As always.”
You dreamt of many things. Which mostly consisted of the memories you had during your childhood to adolescence. All of which, had him by your side.
Caleb, had always been a constant in your life. It would be harder to imagine a life without him in it. He was like the sun. If not for him, you wouldn’t have been able to witness the beauty of the world. If not for him, you wouldn’t feel as alive as you do today. Well—perhaps not today today. After all, you might as well feel like you’re on the verge of dying. Okay, might be an exaggeration. But not too far off.
Then, a hand so warm, gently placed itself on your forearm. Inching downward until familiar callouses grazed your fingers. You couldn’t help but smile weakly. “You’re here.”
“I’m here.” He affirmed. “So, when did this start?” He rummaged through a plastic bag of goods. Placing a few tablets of medicine onto the bedside table.
“I started feeling off yesterday, but it really worsened after I woke up this morning..” You felt your mouth dry, your throat sore and itchy.
“You should’ve called me as soon as you could.”
“I can’t call you for every minor thing…I’m not a child anymore—— Same to you too.” A clear cough came out of you.
For a moment, the room was silent again. Caleb’s touch stopped after he heard your words. Before ever so slightly—gripping tighter onto your hand. Locking it within his.
“You call this cough a minor thing?” He had an almost darkly amused sneer. “Well—whatever you call it. I want you to call me for every minor thing.”
“Well—“ You tried clearing your throat. “I would’ve called you if it lasted a bit longer than it should have—“
“What? When your condition has worsened that you need to go to the hospital?” His voice hardened, quicked. Contrasting his gentle touch grazing against your heated forehead. “Look at you. You can barely get up in your state. You need me. From the moment you feel a little ill—I’m always one call away. Okay?”
Silence filled the room once more. You pondered on his words. Stuck in his harsh tone. He was only like this after reuniting with you. It made you wonder, is this the true side of him you were never aware of?
Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear. “So stop with the nonsense that you don’t need me for everything, Pipsqueak.” Pulling away, he gave a gentle smile that hid all of his sinister motivations. One that led you on for all your life—believing that he was just the kind gege you knew and loved. “Have you eaten dinner yet?”
“..No..”
“Thought so.” He gave a knowing chuckle, running his hands through your hair. “I’ll cook for you. So stay put, alright?” His hands lingered for a slight moment on your face. His eyes flickering something unreadable—-before standing up and walking towards your kitchen.
As you lay down on your dark bedroom, the ajar door gave you a glimpse of the light from the other parts of the house. Busy sounds of the stovetop and pan as his spatula stirred against the stainless steel. The savory aroma filling your senses. For the next few minutes, your home was filled with that familiar warmth once more. You had only hoped that your taste buds wouldn’t give up on you. At least for today.
When he returned, he held a hot bowl of soup and rice and a gentle smile on his face. “Your favorite.” His voice, accompanied with the savory aroma of the soup—filled you with a sense of nostalgia. Inside the home you once shared with Grandma Josephine. Where even as children, Caleb had always taken the role of ‘big brother’ and slowly but surely mastered his ‘get well soup’ throughout the years you had shared together.
Right at this moment, as you use up all your current strength to sit up right and sip the spoonful of memories from his hand—you were convinced that no one, not even you, could replicate the exact taste of Caleb’s affection for you.
“Is it good?” He cocked his head curiously, a slight smug expression adorned those crescents for eyes.
“You already know the answer.” Although speaking was still slightly painful, it felt eased after being filled with his warmth. “It’s good.” You affirmed. “I’ve been feeling so cold for the past few hours, this really helped.” Your gaze meets his as he takes another spoonful and feeds you once more. “Thanks.”
He watches your eyes as they flicker like stars beneath the moonlight. His gaze stuck on yours as if he’s trying to find something he’s been wanting for so long. Yearning for a glimpse. A chance to take charge and take it, whatever it may be.
In the midst of this solmenity, you found his hand take its place on your disheveled hair. “I should stay the night.” His eyes pierced into yours. Yet his gaze cannot be traced. Caleb cocked his head, bangs falling ever so slightly to the side. Revealing his forehead. “Don’t you think?” His voice, an octave lower, had been laced with a peculiar motive in each syllable uttered.
The room was set into silence. Seeming to have been because of you busying yourself with cooling down the soup in your mouth—you ate it a bit too fast. But to Caleb, it was evident that his silent desires spoke louder than his audible sweetness.
“Sure,” A simple answer to a simple question. Yet the lack of clear hesitation held more meaning to Caleb than most would think. For a lack of hesitation meant you were accustomed to this. That you trusted him the most. To take care of you in your most vulnerable state? Was someone unquestionable.
As simple as breathing, as clear as skies he’d fly, as loud as his heartbeat in your presence.
It was that night that you spent together. One of the many, from all the time you spent in childhood. But a rarity in your current lives. As the Farspace fleet’s colonel and as a Hunter.
On one bed—-much to your request and his all too easy complacency. After all, it was enough to fit two people. To which Caleb had relished in the fantasy that you had bought it just for this. That you longed for his touch just as he did. For how could he not? When, despite your coughing and sneezing, you had found solace and warmth within his embrace. Shielding you from the cold you had been feeling since earlier. Encasing you in a world where only you and Caleb mattered—-even for just a night.
His hands found rest on your hair. Savoring the scent of the shampoo you recently bought on an errand with him, of course, caring the most about your gege’s opinion—you bought the one he favored most. Much to his triumphant satisfaction. Like him staking his claim on you. A secret that he only knew of. An enjoyment he can only share with himself. In more ways than one.
“Rest easy, Pipsqueak.” Caleb reassured. Having you leaning on his chest made him fear that you’d end up finding out about what he had hidden for so many years. For if you could hear (which you most definitely could) how his heart was a drum that beated your name in morse, and if you’ll condemn him. Or would you cherish the way his breath would hitch at the sound of your name— with your hands, which held onto him at this moment. With the promises he made in name as your gege, but had held in his heart as someone who longed for you a little different than family. “I’m here.”
The night was long, cold, and sharp. Clouds above cried and bellowed, letting their tears fall onto the earth that rumbled from thunder strikes.
His arms were soft, warm, and disarming. Even more so when you buried yourself even more onto him. Closing the distance, where even breathing without each other’s scent would be impossible. The proximity only increased the aching in Caleb’s chest as he restrained himself from acting upon the racing thoughts in his mind. You were in his arms, as you were always meant to be. Yet, something else had felt different. Maybe it was the atmosphere.
Caleb was there for you. Always. If given the chance, he would never let go of you, even until now. Yet, he had wished to be separated from you at this moment.
His mind racing with all sorts of immoral delusions. How the darkness left room for imagination—-your pained whimpering driving him to guilt from his own perversion. She’s sick, you creep. He acknowledged the love and yearning he had for you. But, the feeling of having his heart beat in anticipation and slight arousal at the very knowledge that you—his meimei, his friend, his everything—kept your hands on him in desperation to seek solace in his embrace due to your vulnerable state—-it sickened him to think this was the very moment he felt hotter than a sick person. For the more he allowed himself to become your place of tranquility, the more he felt himself being driven off the edge.
How long has it been? Caleb asks himself.
How long has it been since he held you like this anyway? Sleeping in the same bed, flushed against one another. The darkness leaves him with nothing to focus on but the feeling of you. How long has it been?
Like the hunger a man felt from prolonged chastity. No—it was something more primal than that. Something that came from the deepest parts of his heart.
Has his decades long yearning finally caught up to him? Really, at this moment? When she’s sick. He wanted to throw himself off of you. To grab onto the final piece of restraint. To not do something he will end up regretting.
“Pipsqueak,” He called out softly, gently trying to raise your arm above his torso. Loosening your hold on him. “I have to—“ Before he could finish, you unconsciously murmured a quiet plea for him to stay. “But—“ He let out a crooked smile, nearing the edge of what is left of the sanity he had.
“..Just for a moment…” You murmured, continuing to press yourself onto him. Furrowed eyebrows, evident of your discomfort on the idea of his absence. “I’m feeling better with you here..just a bit..”
Shit.
“Pipsqueak..” His breath, shaky. His mind, foggy. His restraint, thin. “You—“
“You feel warm, gege..” The affectionate way you call to him frankly—made it worse. Much much worse. “I missed you so much.”
“Hah…” Caleb furrowed his eyebrows, bit his lip, and gripped onto a pillow right behind you. The muscles on his arm that went over you had tightened. “No no.. I..” His breathing grew shallower, his chest aflame with all the immoral desires he held for you, his pants growing tighter at the growing need to fill the ache.
“Is something wrong?” Your deep breathing against his chest didn’t make it any better. He could feel how hot you were at this moment. That accompanied with his unsaid genuine love? He couldn’t—no—he shouldn’t act upon his thoughts with the irrationality that wild, insatiable lust could bring. Caleb couldn’t do that to you of all people. Not you. No matter how much he wanted to. No matter how much he ached for you. For a taste of you—-he shouldn’t. Not like this.
Even when he could easily grab your wrists with ease and pin them above your head, taking his time to taste each part of your body while he ravages you—satiating the rising heat beneath. Even when you were at your most vulnerable; All your defenses were surrendered to him. He couldn’t bear to lose you if you didn’t react the same to his advances. The possibility that if he did as he pleased, the feel of your skin, your warmth, your breath against his—would be gone from his proximity forever.
For all he knows, he’s just your gege.
“Sorry Pipsqueak, I have to—-I have to go. To pee.” He felt his voice crack as he firmly but gently pushed you away. Leaving you alone on your bed big enough to fill the both of you. The weight of his body left a dent on the mattress. In which, as he walked away—you laid on it.
He gently closed the bathroom door shut. Sliding down it and onto the ground. Running both hands through his face in utter distress in how his heart drummed against his chest like a rushing typhoon. Caleb desperately panted, coming up for air that wouldn’t come unless he calmed down himself. A hand to his chest in an attempt to return his sanity.
His gaze reaches downward. Where in between his legs was a burning sensation for the mere thought of you.
His hands made their way down, inching closer and closer. Hesitation, from the guilt that pulled him back. Yet what drives him to continue is the eagerness to satisfy the hunger that welled up inside him. To release all his frustrations, his dissatisfaction, and his repressed longing.
Heavy, shallow breaths.
Heart thumping loudly.
Hazy vision.
Heated desire.
Caleb’s hands wrapped around his cock. First, with slow stimulation. Causing him to flinch slightly—as if edging himself to the door of climax. But, the more he felt his mind wander more to the image of you as he closed his eyes shut—the slow massages of his fingers around his cock became intense pumps, accompanied by the instinctive thrusts of his hips. His breathing grew heavier with each thrust into his hands.
The thought that his hand that gripped oh so tightly onto his erection was actually your tight pussy wrapping around him greedily wanting more—prompted him to throw his head back. Feeling every part of his body go red with heat.
With his right hand continuing to fill the aching need for sexual gratification, his left had wandered off in different directions to try and hold onto something—anything.
Just then, he felt a basket right next to him. A large, familiar one, where his hands had a tight grasp onto one of the pieces of clothing on top of the pile.
For a moment, the feel of the unique cloth had drawn his attention away from his burning erection. His eyes widened at the sight of the cloth as he brought it closer to him, although, purely out of his control. Body moving on its own.
Red laced panties.
The kind he didn’t expect the ever active huntress to have. He was stunned. The heat increased as more thoughts ran through his mind at mach speed. But, before he could even finish his thought process, his body had acted on its own once more. Following a grunt, he used his right hand to continue pumping, and left hand to hold the panties up to his face. The pure scent of you without any filters like perfumes, was like a drug to him.
The more he smelled you, the more he felt himself reaching climax.
He imagined pinning you down onto the bed, vulnerable from the fever as you could only give a simple yes to his advances, allowing him to take charge in pleasuring you in your troubled state.
He imagined your whiny moans that would beg for him to stop, but if he did—your waist would beg to be ravished harder. Pushing more into him, as he diligently filled you up with his searing-hot cum, until it poured out from your folds, desperate for more.
“Hah—Pipsqueak—“ His hips started moving on his own. Instinctively wanting to breed you, no matter how much you protest. “Baby..” Aching for more. “Hah..I’m—“ His grunts filled the entire bathroom, right before realizing you could possibly hear him.
Hear him.
The thought should make him afraid. The thought that you could hear how dirty and desperate he was for his meimei. How your kind, considerate, and reliable gege was lusting after you.
To him, it was immoral. Yet so so good.
“I’m close…” He whined. His hand was covered in pre-cum with each intensifying push into his hand. And then when his hips stiffened, head tilted backwards, eyes shut, and his dick about to release—-
“..Caleb…?”
The sudden appearance of your weak voice jolted him out of his trance, but also caused him to fully release onto the bathroom floors. Hips buckled until every drop of his lust for you would be on the floors of the very room you take your baths in.
His heartbeat increased rapidly. The image of your face finding him sprawled out onto your floor, legs opened wide, cock leaking with cum, with your panties in his hands—was both terrifying, yet exhilarating.
What would your reaction be?
In seeing that he was never gonna be just your sweet gege.