My various short stories, thoughts and headcannons about Love and Deepspace.
I publish them first in my tumblr blog ( link in bio), then with some delay here as well.
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You have successfully lured Caleb into your little setup trap and cuffed him to a sturdy wooden chair in the living room of your former childhood home. Or better, the exact copy he had rebuilt recently. The man who was part of the only family you ever knew is finally and officially your boyfriend.
He looks relaxed in his captured state, the muscled upper body bare to your shameless gaze, which you let roam over the buff hills of his chest and the defined valleys of his abs, mapping every little detail into your memory. The right prosthetic arm, uncovered by the artificial skin, is now bound to the chair with cuffs you found in an adult shop in Linkon.
Soft yellow sun rays from the windows set Caleb in an ethereal light, letting him look like Icarus, bathing in the sun's corona. The last days of summer shine on smooth skin and on the metal of his augmented limb. It glistens brilliantly, while robotic fingers tap against the wood of the armrest with a clicking sound, the only proof of how nervous actually Caleb is—an unusual sight from the ruthless Colonel of the Far Space Fleet.
You get down on your knees, embraced by his thighs, thick from years of training and sports, determined to make him feel good and to take away his anxiety of touching you with his bionic arm. The result of weeks of pondering how to get it into his stubborn head that you don't mind the artificial part of him. And finally, you came up with this.
"Don't, pip-squeak," he croaks. Caleb sounds weak, showing how helpless he is against your will. The waver in the rough voice is also proof of his disgust with the robotic-like replacement.
But you don't listen as you cradle the metallic hand to your face, nuzzling into it with all the love you have for him.
And your boyfriend whines, a pained, suffering sound that makes you tear up.
"I can hardly feel you.." He whispers, feeble and disappointed by his own disability. His eyes, a deep violet with that unique tinge of pink, are blown wide, not able to hide how much it pains him. How bad he wants to sense your touch, the softness of your cheek, the heat on your skin.
"It's okay... I feel it for both of us." As you glide your nose along the cold steel of the fingers, towards his artificial wrist. The metal is cool to the touch, smooth, and covered with a faint smell you can't name. It's unfamiliar but nice in contrast to your heated face. Even if you wanted this, the intimacy of it all makes you flustered.
You place a gentle kiss in the metallic palm and let it linger, basking in the feeling of smooth hardness against the plush softness of your lips. Caleb whines again, the grief about his lost arm audible in the pained noises. You don't know how exactly this part of his body got injured during the explosion or how he got to Ever, where they replaced it.
He never told you, and you're not sure if you really want to know. The image that he might've suffered makes your heart ache, and rage wells up in your stomach.
But you swipe away these thoughts on purpose. Forcing yourself to focus on this sensual moment as you kiss your way from his wrist, along his forearm up to the crook of his elbow, steadying your body with one hand on his strong thigh.
Caleb's eyes widen in shock, trying to pull away his arm immediately, but the cuffs are restricting his movement successfully.
You stop your administration to look up at him. Your boyfriend's face is flushed deep red, his chest moving in frantic breaths.
"It's okay. It feels nice." You smile at him with all the love and adoration that has grown through all these years you have known each other, and that never vanished as he disappeared from your life.
Caleb winces, pain evident in his face. "Pips.." he inhales, before closing his eyes. As they reopen again, all the light is gone, leaving only the dark abyss of self-disgust and remorse in the astonishing mirrors of his soul. "I don't want you to..." he starts, but stops himself. You know he would ruffle through his brown hair now if he could, but his other hand is also restricted by the cuffs you bought with this exact intent.
"Caleb," you whisper softly. And it works, as always, he turns his head back to you, the purple in his eyes has dimmed. He can't resist your call, never couldn't, and never will, that you are sure of.
You lift yourself to the broad chest, using his legs as support. Letting go of the metallic arm, you sit in his lap.
The nebulae-like eyes of your boyfriend never leave you, observing, watching, and waiting. It seems he still can't believe that he gets your gentle touches that easily.
With a soft, tender smile, you cradle his handsome face, engulfing him in the warmth of your palms, and you lean close to his features you know so well. His muscular chest is strong and hard beneath yours.
"I love you, Caleb." A peck on his nose. "And I love everything about you." A tender kiss on his right shoulder, exactly where sterile titan meets warm skin. You caress both sides with your adoration and determination. A heated cheek on the cold metal as you gaze up to him, "And I love every inch of your body."
Caleb's breath hitches, purple eyes widen even more.
Then a cat-like lick along the scarred skin of the connection of his arm to his shoulder. "Every ... Inch." As you place some more kisses on his skin and metal, now filled with more than just gentle, tender love. A tremble rushes over Caleb's whole body, making him squirm under you.
You smile again and decide to stop torturing him.. After easing back, you release the cuffs and cradle his artificial hand once more between your palms, kissing the tips of the bionic fingers before sucking each of them in your wet mouth. The metal is cold at first, but it heats up quickly with the circling of your tongue around it. Caleb's breath hitches once more and continues, ragged and desperate.
"Everything about you belongs to me," and you turn to face him again, leaving his arm to cradle your waist. Your lips are only inches away from his. You whisper, "You're mine, Caleb."
His eyes show surprise, then determination and want. A need that tells of decades of love and more. An obsession. Possession.
"I am." As he pulls you into a devastatingly hungry kiss.
