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Distantly, Fjord can hear the waves lapping at the shore, salty air embracing him, them, through the fluttering curtains. Molly is pressed against his chest, their eyes still closed, their warmth a bit uncomfortable but not unwelcome as the morning slowly comes. Through the night, their tail wrapped itself around Fjord's left leg, the spaded tip patting at his knee at random intervals. Molly's using his chest as a pillow, their horns wrapped in soft fleece socks. They've been wearing those at night since this began, whatever this is.
They haven't spoken about it, not really. They've been roommates since the beginning, and Fjord became comfortable with Molly after a couple days of travelling, realizing that as obnoxious and ostentatious as the tiefling seems, they're really quite harmless. New roommates, Fjord awkwardly trying to avoiding looking directly at Molly's lithe nude form as they flaunted around the room, turned into bedmates, whispering late into the night, a careful hand placed just above Mollymauk's hip and their hand stroking under his shirt, feeling his scarred back, and then this.
Somewhere along the line, Fjord fell in love with Mollymauk. He's more than fine with this, even as the tiefling's wrapped horn juts into his collarbone, murmuring lowly in their sleep. It's easy to love them, and it's hard to love them, and Fjord wouldn't have it any other way. Content to spend some time with his partner on his chest, Fjord slowly rakes his clawed fingers through Molly's loose curls, still slightly sweaty at the base of their neck. He's careful to avoid the love bites he left last night as he gently eases tangles out of their mane.
He loses track of time like this, a content purr rumbling from his chest. Some of the others are up, he can hear Caleb reading to Jester in the kitchen, a sharp sound reverberating through the house as Nott tries to cook breakfast. The door closes loudly as Beau and Yasha come back from their run, Beau swearing after as she realizes how loudly she slammed the door. Molly nuzzles closer, making a discontented noise, a dainty hand reaching up to shield the sun from their eyes. Fjord chuckles and covers their eyes with his large hand.
"'Morning, doll." Fjord kisses their forehead, letting his purr grow louder. Molly blinks a few times before they lean up to kiss him. Their teeth are sharp and his tusks are awkward, and the kiss is barely a touching of dry lips and morning breath. Molly's tail unwinds itself, slipping under his knee and starting a slow side-to-side wag.
"Good morning, love." They smile up at him, sliding their knees between Fjord's thighs, pressing chest-to-chest against him to get a better look. They look lovely, with tattoos and scars and love bites and piercings and the sharpest, sweetest smile Fjord's ever received. He sits up against the headboard, Molly following him as Fjord rolls the socks off of Molly's horns.
"Think we slept in today?" Fjord asks as there's a shattering sound from the kitchen accompanied by Beau's 'oh shittt'. Molly's bell-like laugh rings out and they shrug.
"They can cope." They sit back on their heels, looking down at him. Molly strokes their thumb over Fjord's lips, his tusks and scar getting a little extra love. Their hair falls over their shoulders, messy and wild. Fjord tentatively places his hands on their hips, thumbs resting over their sharp hip bones. There are more bites and hickies around their hips and inner thighs that make Fjord a little embarrassed for a reason he can't quite place. He lets his fingers gently knead into the soft flesh of Molly's lower back, their tail stretching high and straight.
"All good?" Fjord grunts, searching Molly's face for any sign of pain. They nod and lean forward to kiss his forehead, both hands cupping at the sides of his face.
"Great, amazing, spectacular. You feeling good?" Molly asks, their hands dropping down to his shoulders. He had told them long before they became this about past experiences, about his reluctance about sex because of them, about being someone with a low sex drive and no real sexual interest. They hadn't understood, but had been sympathetic. When they fell into bed last night, Fjord pulling his shirt over his head between kisses, they had stopped him and asked to talk about boundaries.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." Fjord says, and he means it. There's a slight stiffness in his neck from an awkward sleeping position, and the welcome pain of a couple hickies on his neck. Molly begins running their hand through the light scattering of dark chest hair Fjord has.
"Have you ever thought about how weird it is all of this is black?" They hum, sharp fingernail tracing the fading lines under Fjord's pecs, gently rolling over a sensitive nipple for just a moment.
"What do you mean?" Fjord scrubs a hand over his face.
"You've got the white in your hair, and the lighter spots on your skin, but this is all black." Their other hand tugs gently on his flop of white hair, and then they look down his body, unsubtly looking at his crotch, "down there, too, that's all dark."
"Can't say I ever really thought about it, Molls." He shrugs.
"Mmm, maybe I'll think about it enough for the both of us." They smile and lean down to nip at his ear, "round two?" Their voice is sultry and their red eyes are lidded. Fjord chuckles, swatting at them.
"We got things to do today, an' the others are all up."
"They already know we're together, we could give 'em a show." Molly teases, easing out of their spot to step off of the bed. They shake out in a very canine way, looking towards the mirror. While Molly's arms and chest are covered in shorter scars, the ones on their back are long and vertical, like they had to reach over to break skin with their swords. Most of their lower back is completely devoid of scars, but is still marked by smooth tattoos. Their tail stretches and coils once, before it rests swaying slightly over Molly's ass.
"Not a show any of 'em would want to see, 'cept maybe Jester."
"She really is a naughty one, Caleb's got his work set out for him." Molly agrees, fluffing their hair, "you really did a number on me." They chuckle, pressing two fingers against a dark bite on their neck, blossoming as dark as a burst berry. Fjord sits up, searching the floor for a robe.
"Sorry." Fjord says, picking up Molly's silk robe off of the floor, pulling it over his shoulders. He's not the biggest half-orc around, but the size difference between them means the robe is tight on his arms and can't quite close over his hips. Molly hums once, turning back to him, deft hands reaching for the silk tie.
"You don't have to cover up around me." They say, but tie the robe anyway, despite the almost three inches of bare skin where the fabric gaps. They smile up at him.
"I know my back ain't pretty, it's alright." Fjord insists, bending down to grab his smallclothes from the floor. Molly slaps his ass hard.
"It's lovely, dear." They grin at his flushed face as he looks at them in the mirror, "I mean, I really don't mind your scars. They're part of you, love." They begin opening their pods of beauty products, and Fjord smushes his face in the juncture of their neck, desperate to catch their real scent before they cover up with whatever frilly perfume was cheapest at the last supply store they went to. They laugh but don't say anything else, doing their eyeliner as he huffs them in, hands cold on their warm tummy.
"Perfume time, lovely." Molly says, and Fjord opens his eyes, pulling back. Molly's got gentle rings of gold eyeliner around their eyes and a simple purple lipstick on, just a few shades darker than their natural colour. With or without makeup, Fjord thinks they're the most beautiful thing he's ever got to hold. He kisses their cheek before sauntering off to get dressed. The unfamiliar scent from the bottle fills the air, and Fjord resists the urge to wrinkle his nose at it. They like the perfume, so he refuses to say anything about it.
He gets dressed quickly, pulling on clean-ish clothes, then his newly repaired armor. Molly comes over to help him with the ties once they struggle into their sinfully tight leggings. Fjord leans down to help Mollymauk with the knots on their new boots. Fjord pulls his hair into a tight bun as Molly shrugs into their coat. He smiles down as they reach for his hand. Intertwined, their hands look very different. Fjord has thick fingers, calloused from sailing and spotted from his vitiligo, with stubbornly sharp claws and scars on his knuckles. Molly has dainty hands, tattooed with light freckles, painted nails that they keep in gentle points.
"You liked last night, though?" Molly asks, reaching up to pull a small tuft of white hair out of the bun, leaving it to frame Fjord's face.
"Very much so." Fjord smiles, his tusks poking into his cheek. Molly's tail wraps around one of the straps on Fjord's armor.
"Me too. Let's go hope Nott hasn't burned breakfast."
Fjord looks back to the bed, sheets messy and pillows in need of fluffing, the wind from the window seeming to come in impossibly far to tussle Fjord's loose hairs, curtains blowing to show off their view of the ocean. He thinks of their friends downstairs, already sharing the morning, waiting for them. He thinks of this house, rented for the week, chosen specifically so the Empire citizens and him could all see the ocean from the windows. He looks down at Molly. He loves them. He opens the door.