This scene is just the aftercare for the previous two installments~ Enjoy
🢖 AFTERCARE
M I C A H
Micah woke up when Caelan laid him down on the bathroom counter, the cold granite making him shiver. He was still buzzing, floating, his body melting down onto the counter without much of a thought as he heard the sound of the shower turning on. Micah tried to pull his eyes open, his hand twitching in an attempt to reach out to him, though he was rustling around more than likely with his back turned.
"Mmm, be still Baby Boy," Caelan called, his voice soft and warm as he turned around to face him. He closed the distance between them, reaching his hand out to rest it on Micah's bicep gently. "I'm still here, precious, you're okay." Micah moaned in response, his eyes managing to flutter open for a moment to look up at Caelan, though his vision was sleep-blurred and hard to see through. It made all of the efforts he'd gone through to open them feel a little worthless in hindsight, especially as they fluttered shut again a mere half second later.
"'M meshy," Micah mumbled, his words slurred together slightly. Caelan let out an affectionate chuckle, the backs of his fingers coming up to rub Micah's cheek gently. Micah let out a whimper, pushing his face into Caelan's touch thoughtlessly.
"Yes, you are," Cealan murmured softly as he pulled his hand away from his face, going instead to lift him up so that he was sitting, his warm hand grasping the back of his head in it to hold him upright as he began working his fishnet body suit off of him. Micah tried to help, but he was all but useless, his limbs trying to help--sometimes when he wanted, other times to the detriment of the process.
Micah was so empty and thoughtless that it was too hard not to try to help, his brain still hadn't rebooted yet and he was running on at best, exhausted enthusiasm and the little bit of leftover energy that buzzed through his body like electricity. He didn't really have the ability at the moment to think about not moving and just letting Caelan do it. Not if Caelan didn't instruct him to, at least.
"Mm good boy," Caelan murmured softly as he lifted Micah's ass up off of the counter, pulling the ruined bodysuit over the swell of his ass, then down his legs. Micah let out a soft giggle as Caelan's fingertips brushed the bottom of his foot. He hadn't even realized his shoes were off. Had he managed to keep them on the whole time? He genuinely couldn't remember.
"Such a messy little thing, Baby, look so pretty like this," Caelan praised him as he lifted him up off of the counter, his arm sliding beneath Micah's ass as he lifted him up off of the counter. Micah let out a whimper as he nuzzled into Caelan's neck, content to cuddle with him and let the world fade away from him. Micah tensed slightly as he felt water splashing against his skin, his eyes squeezing together as he nuzzled closer to Caelan's neck.
"Nush," Micah murmured, biting Caelan's neck in protest as he tried to pull him away. Caelan let out an affectionate chuckle, his hand coming to run along the curve of Micah's spine gently, hands warm enough to make him melt.
"I know Baby, you wanna cuddle. Master has to clean you first, then I'll cuddle with you. Can you behave yourself long enough for me to get you clean, sweet stuff?" Micah let out a huff in protest, his arms coming up to wrap around Caelan's neck. He didn't want to let go of Caelan, he was so warm and comfortable, and Caelan was being so mean.
Okay, maybe he was dramatic, but he wanted his cuddles now! Not ten years from now! Micah sank his teeth down into Caelan's neck again as a protest to being bothered again. Caelan let out another chuckle, his hand coming up to grasp the back of Micah's head, pulling him back away from his neck without even flinching as Micah bit down harder in an attempt to stay where he was.
"Hazel," Caelan murmured, his fingers rubbing circles on the back of his head. Micah whined and shook his head, trying to lean closer to him.
"'M not Hazel, 'm Micah," Micah slurred out, "You know th-that," Micah finished shakily, sticking his tongue out. Caelan raised his eyebrow, reaching his other hand out, grasping Micah's tongue between his fingers. Micah let out another huff and lowered his eyes respectfully, unable to help himself as Caelan gave him a look that told him pretty clearly to behave.
"I do, Micah," Caelan answered him in a soft voice, lulling him somewhat to complaisance as he rubbed circles into his scalp. Micah couldn't help shivering a little as his real name left Caelan's mouth. The way his voice caressed it made Micah's insides heat up. "Do you want me to call you that instead right now, Pretty baby?" Micah nodded, trying to push closer to him again.
"Micah, be still," Caelan instructed, firmly but softly, "Let me take care of you, sweetheart." Micah whimpered, pouting a bit as Caelan released his tongue and sat him down on his feet. Micah's knees shook, his heart stalling in his chest for a moment as he thought he might stumble, but before the fear could really take root, Caelan steadied him with a firm grip around his waist. "You're safe, sweet boy, it's okay," Micah moaned, finally letting himself be maneuvered around without resisting.
Caelan was sweet with it, his hands as smooth as satin as he lathered Micah's skin up with soap, fingers pressing in just deep enough for him to feel breathless. He murmured soft, comforting words into Micah's ear, praises for being good, little kisses pressed to his shoulders and ears and head whenever Micah leaned into him. Micah just sank into it, letting Caelan clean his back and legs without complaint, tipping his head back when Caelan was ready to wash his hair.
As resistant as he'd been, he couldn't help but fall back against Caelan's chest as his hands ran along his stomach and then up to his chest, soapy fingers running along his pebbled nipples. Micah let out a whimper, his head lulling to the side as he melted more into Caelan's chest, his body limp and nimble in Caelan's grasp. He was still floating, still soaring. He was way too foggy and out of it, this wasn't entirely normal for him, but this was a big scene and he'd taken it to completion.
His body ached, he was sure there'd be bruises left from this experience, and he couldn't help but feel giddy. He loved being bruised and marked, he loved struggling to hide them, failing, and then stumbling his way through an explanation--he fucking thrived on the caught-out embarrassment of it when he failed.
"Being so good for me," Caelan praised, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tip of his ear. Micah let out a little giggle, humming quietly as he relaxed into Caelan more somehow. He felt so good right now, his brain felt like it had been soaked in a muscle relaxer. He was so calm and relaxed, and Caelan's honeyed words were only adding to his desire to sink into the warmth and let the world around him fade away.
"Mmm," Micah moaned in response as Caelan's hands moved down, running along the swell of his hips and then lower, his fingers on one hand wrapping around Micah's cock while the other slid down further and cupped his balls. Caelan was gentle and careful, his hands lathering the soap all over them. Micah couldn't help the brief bout of dizziness that washed over him, the overstimulation enough to have him wanting to whine, but the pleasure making him somewhat restless.
When Caelan's hands moved lower, he began to run them along Micah's upper thighs, sliding close to his inner thigh before pulling back and repeating. The soap made his hands move along Micah's skin so smoothly that Micah probably could've fallen asleep to it, truth be told. He couldn't help wanting to beg him to grip harder, to feel those soapy fingers bite down into the skin of his thighs. He wanted Caelan's marks on his skin--more than he already had, he meant.
Caelan had probably left quite a few marks in reality, but with the combined marks of everyone else, Micah would be hard-pressed to definitively know whose mark was whose. He wanted to know Caelan's mark was there, to know he was marked and claimed intentionally by Caelan, without lust clogging his judgment. The deepest part of his mind wandered to the thought of Caelan's collar around his throat.
While he'd specified Caelan's collar, he just wanted one--but he didn't want to buy it himself. Part of it for him was being claimed, not being allowed to take it off, the sign of ownership. His buying it himself totally takes that out of the equation, as it's no longer a sign of ownership if he puts it on himself. That wasn't enough. He needed the ownership that went with it. Micah let out a whimper, his eyes fluttering open to look at the deep burgundy and black marble in front of him, somewhat confused.
Micah hummed, his hand reaching out mindlessly to run his fingers along the surface of it, somewhat fascinated with the way the black and burgundy contrasted. He was too out of it to remember what it was called, but the way the cells formed with the two colors combined created a somewhat beautiful and entrancing thing to marvel at as he floated aimlessly. After a moment of his fingers roaming along the surface of the wall, his eyes slid slowly over to the door of the shower, his eyes widening a little. It was the same, but wasn't, in the same breath.
It was the same pattern as the wall, though the door was clear even so, the colors much more of a hint than the main feature. The main feature had to be the burgundy-colored light that went through the clear glass of the door, the faint coloring of the glass casting slight shadows through it. The door handle was golden, it pulled open and was currently opened. Micah glanced up and looked over to see the second shower head hanging from overhead, turned off.
"Good boy, so good," Caelan praised, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. "Are you awake, sweet boy?" Micah made a noise in response, his eyes moving to look up at Caelan from over his shoulder, his head turning to accomplish it entirely.
"Mm-hmm," Micah hummed, blinking a couple of times as he forced his eyes to focus in on Caelan's face. His deep brown hair was long, pushed over to one side, beads of water clinging to way too long lashes that framed his deep green eyes. Water droplets ran down his forehead, his cheeks, his chiseled jawline, and toward his chin where it dripped off and down. Micah was a little breathless, still floating and thoughtless, and somewhat weak.
"Hot," Micah sighed, somewhat mindlessly, too out of it to be embarrassed about his outburst.