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“Is it really necessary?” His voice held that teasing lilt, his brow cocked as he chuckled at you.
“Come on! I know it’s been years but seriously! What do you want?” You met his gaze slightly annoyed, a bit of a furrowed brow of your own as you tried to be taken seriously.
Caleb’s birthday was coming up, and although it had been literal years since **you two had celebrated his together you felt a wave of nostalgia as the date was quickly approaching.
“Pipsqueak, y’know anythin’ you’ll give me will be treasured by yours truly, seriously! You don’t need to do anything! ” He reiterated once more.
“But I want to! Omg! Caleb, you’re so…argh!” You groaned and quickly turned away from him, a pout forming on your lips at his stubborn insistence.
A mirthful chuckle left his lips as he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, his chin resting between the slope of your neck and shoulder before he whispered teasingly, “I’m serious babe, all I want is for you to be with me, together, just spending some time alone, hm? We’ve already missed out on so much, can’t I just want somethin’ small?”
A press of his lips was followed afterwards, the soft, “Chu” sound that elicited making you warm in seconds. “Caleb…” you managed to mutter, now less annoyed.
“I can…make it more personal I guess, I just wanted something that you’ll enjoy, like when we were kids, y’know?” you bashfully muttered.
“Yea, but this year I just want to spend it with my lovely pipsqueak, rightt here” he hummed against your skin— the drawl that left his lips adding a touch of tenderness to his words—his touch warm and intimate as he flexed his fingers against the supple flesh on your hips before interlacing them with your own hands.
A defeated sigh left your lips at his response, deciding to ultimately pull out the white flag. You admitted defeat, “Fine, just…ok-yea, this is your birthday, so it makes sense we do what you want” a sheepish smile formed as you admitted error. “Sorry for getting carried away like that” you muttered out.
“It’s alright pip, I don’t mind a bit of jibber jabber, especially when it’s about me but just slow down a bit first, okay..?” he added, his voice growing warmer and less serious before giving my hands an affectionate squeeze. His warmth seeping past his chest and onto my back, the small snicker of pride earning a quick, defensive reply, “I do not jibber jabber!”
Caleb: +1 Point
You: -1 Point
3 days left.
It was the following morning, and what should’ve been a bubbling mixture of excitement and anticipation was warred with the impending feelings of nerves and stress.
“Cue for deployment in 30 minutes, I want all witnesses investigated and throughly examined.”
His voice rang through the intercom, his tone calm and collected with finality as he ordered the officers to deploy their aircrafts. Unlike them though, he wasn’t commanding the ship. Instead, he gaze focused on the contract below, it read:
Farspace Fleet Authorization, “Operation Lipton”— Hunters’ Association Intel.
His gaze hardened once more as he read through the contract for the millionth time that night. His knee bouncing repeatedly, his posture tense, and head pounding from the brights lights of his office. The table slightly trembled with each bounce, the whirr of the AC accompanied with the luminescent lights making him wince once he decided to peel his eyes away.
One had to read between the lines, Caleb in particular, knew that it was just another step in Professor Lucious’s plans.
The contract stated the following:
By signing on the line below, the recipient, Caleb Xia is hereby authorizing the clearance of “Operation Lipton”, that of which pertains to infiltrate the Hunters’ Association located in Linkon, China for the purpose of gathering intelligence regarding the ‘Spatium Core’. Allowing officers: Fake Name, Fake Name, Fake Name to go undercover as Hunters for a period of 6 months, each of who will independently report and explain their findings throughout the duration of time. Upon returning, all officers and adjutants will undergo a series of questions and examination (ie. polygraphs) in order to reevaluate their allegience to the Farspace Fleet. In addition, they will also agree to be participants regarding the possible investigation and research into said ‘Spatium Core’.
Finally setting the paper aside, his head tipped back against his seat, a small curse falling from his lips before he directed his attention elsewhere. His eyes scanned the room before ultimately settling where they always did in his times of distress, her.
The small portrait of her he kept on his desk, both of them smiling, holding up their apple shaped plushies they had won at the arcade. He remembered that day as if it had been yesterday. You both looked so happy, his eyes trained on you instead while you smiled for the picture; it had been one of your first dates, and he? Well he was as smitten as one could be. His hand reached for the frame before bringing it closer to him, a small smile forming at the corners of his mouth before bringing the glass to his lips.
“Oh pips…” he murmured, his voice just a hair away of worry.
Reluctantly, he set the portrait down before his eyes flickered once more to the contract: what to do, oh what to do.
As his gaze lingered on the piece of paper, his pen laid next to it, the line underneath calling out to him like a vice. He sighed.
It would be so easy, so simple if he could just sign the damn piece of paper, yet not only would that completely go against his morals; if these bastards had any, but they would also hurt her.
As his hand reached over, his finger pressed another button on the intercom. The numbers were punched in one by one, each a reminder of the weight of the situation. He waited patiently as it buzzed in the man on the other side, the hum of the machine surely going off across the other line.
“Ring!”
“Ring!”
“Ring!”
“Caleb?” the other voice on the line picked up. Instantly, the colonel’s lips formed into a thin line, his tone somewhat cordial and collected as he spoke calmly yet veiled with curtness.
“Professor Lucious.” He simply stated, the dull tap of the pen hitting against the table being the only sound heard aside from his voice. “What do you need this time?”, the professor instantly picked up the colonel’s cue, and decided to drop the act as well. “Your ‘physical examination’ isn’t due until another week, and as far as media’s concerned the fleet’s doing just fine.”
“I’m aware, I wanted to discuss the detail’s of ‘Operation Lipton’…it says here that we plan to obtain intelligence regarding the Spatium Core, correct?” A soft breath left his lips as he stared at the words on the contract as they began to blur.
“Yes, don’t you have a copy with you? Why are you bothering me with such questions, haven’t you signed it already?”
“Why does the Farspace Fleet need to concern ourselves with the new Protocore? Aren’t we already making technological leads and leaps when it comes to the modifi-”
“Caleb.”
“Apologies professor….when it comes to the enhancements of the fleet”
A long pause followed afterwards, both men were quiet. Lucious was the first one to speak; his tone simple and to the point, yet Caleb knew better to assume that it wasn’t sinister nor calculated.
“We should meet in person to discuss the details of the project if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Professor-”
“Lets do…3 days from now, so the 13th?” His voice cut in instantly, polite yet leaving no room for argument. The tone one that reminded Caleb that even as the Colonel, he just a lab rat when it came to the professor.
“I-uhm…the 13th?” he swallowed thickly, his voice losing that composed edge he eyes looking elsewhere as he bit back his tongue, Fuck this guy.
“Yes, let's met then, hm? I’ll write it down on my agenda, it seems we need to review our objectives and end goals here Colonel Xia.”
Caleb let out a chuckle, the intercom picked up the hint of wary in his tone as he replied a bit too strained, “Yea, sure—I’ll see what I can do…thank you Professor…”.
With a final goodbye from both men the intercoms system beeped, the silence that followed heavy. A wallow of anxiety coveted by the composure a man of his ranks should have showcasing through the subtle shudder of his body.
Leaning back against his chair, moments passed before his heart rate picked up. His body tense, yet his mind jumbled as he sat there, his thoughts muddled by the anxiety of being in there, in that damn lab again just for something he said and on his birthday?
“Fuck…” he muttered bitterly. His head fell back against the leather seat, hand reaching to tip off his hat and card through the now damp hair.
His adam’s apple bobbed, his eyes now filled with a horrible sense of inpendement.
Caleb’s Birthday.
The decorations were set out, the cake neatly placed upon the coffee table, the blend of the orange and vanilla cream matching perfectly with the silver accents of glitter you had added. The dining room was filled with Caleb’s favorite dishes and a bottle of hard apple cider next to two glasses. A smile left your lips at the scene. I hope he loves it.
With a soft sigh, you looked around the room; everything was perfect.
The myriad of colors within the balloons: orange, cream, and blue. All tied and placed neatly around the living room. In addition, the coffee table had been draped with a beautiful table cover, its pattern simple yet elegant. Not to mention you had brought out your apple plushies: the Honeycrisp red and the Granny Smith green colored ones you had won at the arcade with him. The room held a cozy and lively atmosphere; the lights dimmed just enough to make the room almost glow.
It had taken hours, but it was worth it. Now all that was left to do was put on your birthday outfit and get ready.
…
With a bouquet in hand and the lights turned off, you waited in the dark, your eyes darting to the door ever so often as you heard what you could only assume were Caleb’s footsteps. A shaky sigh leaves you in turn, your nerves gradually increasing as your knee bounces repeatedly.
With your heart pounding and body temperature rising, you finally hear the shuffling of house keys. The clacking and clanging of the metal catching your attention faster than lightning. Without a second thought, you scrambled to the door, a smile prepared before biting back your excitement to wait for the perfect moment to just…
With a soft click, the door begins to open.
“Happy Birthday, Caleb!”
Without thinking, you jump into his arms, your grasp firm as you wrap yourself around him, giggling and smiling like the walking rom-com cliché you swore you’d never become. Yet here you were: bear-hugging the man of your dreams, one who in a few minutes was about to see your week’s hard work all bundled up into today just for him.
“Ah! I’m so excited, baby. Come on, come on!” You exclaimed your birthday wishes filled with glee and maybe more eagerness than he. The man in front of you, however, was too caught up in his world.
The moment you basically tackled him, knocking the wind out of his body and leaving him speechless for a few moments. His body aching with a dull pain from his earlier “meeting” with Professor Lucious, his body weakened by the session, something that he may have intentionally been hiding from you since the start.
What was supposed to be one of the best days of his week, his perfect day celebrating with his lover, his partner, was now tainted by the cruel reminder that even someone as powerful as the colonel was held by puppet strings too. Nothing more than a marionette for Ever and those bastards.
Still, how could he not find that laugh of yours infectious? Even in his weakened state, sweaty, warm, and heavy, he put on a smile for you. His heart momentarily fluttered at how eagerly you had surprised him. Yet, he felt too tired to speak; his reluctance and borderline refusal to authorize the project earlier that week had earned him an early exam and more experimentation. His arms in particular throbbed, his right one almost searing as he felt the unfamiliar fluids they had injected him with course through his bloodstream. And if it weren’t for his uniform, his adjutants would’ve picked up the heavy scent of blood that emanated from him.
After your ramblings had eventually subsided, you began to notice the lack of reply on Caleb’s side. Confused, you pull away just enough to get a good look at him, a small, worried chuckle falling from your lips as you begin to speak, “Caleb? What’s wrong...?” The slightly concerned expression on your face quickly morphed into horror as you caught sight of his state: cold sweat, mussed hair, and… was that blood on his lip?
“Caleb!” you squeaked out instead, your hands scrambling to take off the now tipped hat, your eyes flickering with worry as you scanned him up and down all while he remained completely still, a soft incoherent sound leaving his lips. The weak attempt at humor died in his throat almost immediately upon seeing the look on your face. “No, it’s…fine, baby, just bleedin’ a bit is all...?” The words were laden with humor that eventually trailed off into a sheepish grin.
You were pissed.
Setting the hat to the side, you maneuvered him with ease. Slinging an arm over your shoulder, you decided that questions could wait, not that he seemed in a state to respond. Quickly, you set him on the couch and huffed, a small groan leaving his lips in response, his back slightly sore as he hit the pillows with a “Thump!”
“Stay here and take off the uniform, you sighed, a frown forming at the sight of him. Caleb nodded, his eyes looking elsewhere before he tried to explain or change the subject. His lips parted, and before he could utter a word, you furrowed your brow, pissed, “Not now, I’m mad, Caleb, but not now just…just take off your uniform, ok?” you muttered a bit firmer than you had intended. Turning on your heel, you beelined it to the restroom, quickly opening the cabinet for the first aid kit, painkillers, and a fresh set of clothes.
Caleb had a knack for diversion and defecting, something he often did when you had found out one of his secrets or when moments grew particularly vulnerable, and although both of you had made significant progress regarding that area in your relationship, there was still so much your boyfriend left unsaid. He was strong, yes, that much was obvious, but the man also bit off more than he could chew. And now, as his lover and best friend since childhood, it was up to you to unravel all those layers of pain he had left and still leaves hidden. Just like he did with you.
The moment you were out of sight and entered the bathroom, Caleb let out a low grunt. His body, feeling the aftermath of having needles and being tested over and over, pushed to his limits to not end. His head throbbed, the Toring Chip warring with his mind as he tried to relax and resist all at once. Shakily, his hands took off his coat; the clammy fingers tugged at the leather lapels.
With another dull “Thump!” the heavy leather coat fell onto the floor, the thick material slightly stained with dried droplets of blood. Next, he began to undo his dress shirt, some buttons harder to undo than others due to previously being mismatched. He had been frantic to leave, the session much more intense than he had anticipated, his clumsy attempts to redress himself leaving him looking amused and frazzled.
Now, his fingers felt numb, the heat of his body throbbed, and his fingers felt swollen and numb as he undid each button, one by one. “Shit…this is bad; she’s gonna kill me… “ he hissed under his breath, a soft, almost quiet, stifled whimper leaving his lips while he slipped off the thin, white fabric. This time, his hands accidentally brushed a bruise, and his face momentarily contorted with pain.
It felt unbearable.
Finally, a fresh wave of cool air hit his skin, a mixture of lingering sting and relief crashing through his body as he finally slumped against the couch, now only dressed in his slacks and work shoes.
He had never told her—at least not explicitly—that he was being experimented on by Ever; however, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had known by now. Her determination knew no bounds when it regarded him. As his thoughts began to wander, he found himself chuckling softly, his voice mingled with humor and a sense of pity, “I feel like we’re starting to rub off on each other, pipsqueak…“
Finally, you had gotten everything you needed; emerging from the bathroom, you held the first aid kit and a few other materials in order to clean him up. Giving yourself a few minutes to collect yourself and the rampant thoughts that began to crawl their way onto your frontal lobe, you sighed.
The reflection of yourself in the mirror, serious and alarmed, coupled with a party dress and an updo, well…looks like the night was full of (horrible) surprises.
Sauntering out of the bathroom, you made your way over to Caleb, materials in hand and a soft, worried expression on your face. Yet, the moment your eyes landed on his body, you felt your heart almost leap out of your chest. Sure, you had fought countless Wanderers, and given your profession, you were no stranger to the blood and injuries that accompanied it, but…
Your lips slightly parted, and the moment Caleb met your gaze, he looked away, ashamed.
“It’s not that bad, pipsqueak, just a few bruises here and there…and the gash,” he muttered out.
“What are those?” You prompted, your voice tense, your eyes narrowing in as they landed on the gash on his left hip. The mark was an open wound; my eyes widened as he tried to reason.
“Look, I know it looks bad, but I can deal with it myself. It’s just a minor injury. The fleet deals with this all the time; the only reason I didn’t get it checked out was because the day was over and I didn’t want to keep you waiting."
“Stop lying, Caleb! We’ve been through this multiple times. It’s—hah! It’s like you don’t even realize how your actions affect me.” I quickly stepped closer and kneeled, ignoring the ache in my knees as I slowly pulled his hand away from the gash.
“Oh my god…Oh my god..” Your eyes widened as you took in the scene, your voice a stunned murmur as the shock hit your system like a cold bucket of water.
“Baby, what happened?” You breathed out before bringing your hand to your mouth, unable to believe what you were seeing.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he spoke, his voice holding a hint of resolve as he looked at me with a slightly furrowed brow. Whether it was out of stubbornness or pain? You weren’t sure.
“This is the fleet’s doing, isn’t it?” You replied, a hint of bitterness in my tone.
“I’m so sick of this, of you hiding things for the sake of my safety. Caleb, you forget that your pain affects me too, and on your birthday?”
A sigh left your lips, your features slowly contorting with despair as you grew increasingly upset.
“Do you ever stop and think that seeing you like this, knowing you’re hiding things from me when I tell you everything—when you know everything about me—doesn’t hurt me? Doesn’t upset me?” You brought your hand to yourself, a mixture of anguish and worry in your tone.
“I thought we moved past this. I thought—” you paused to take a deep breath. Swallowing thickly, you decided now was not the time, not when it was his birthday, not when you had planned everything down to the table covers.
“Look, here’s what’s gonna happen: I’m going to clean you up, we are going to relax and unwind, and you are going to enjoy your birthday and celebrate with me, ok? Ok.” You didn’t wait for a response; your voice slightly wavered as you caught yourself on the verge of tears.
“I…” He looked into your eyes wide, donning that expression where one could tell he wanted to say more, that he wanted to spill everything out, but instead he nodded and went quiet.
“Ok, baby,” he sighed, a wry smile managing to lift the corners of his lips instead, and slowly lifted his arm, the movement heavy and stiff as he made way for me to bandage his wound. A small nod was all you gave in acknowledgement before turning your attention to the kit. In a few minutes bandages, disinfectant, and cotton swabs were all opened out alongside a soothing ointment.
…
Slowly the wound was bandaged up, the room eerily quiet, the only sound being the hum of the ice machine, the occasional rustle, and the sounds that left Caleb ever so often as I prodded and treated him.
“Tell me if it hurts, ok?” You mumbled, your voice slightly muffled due to your posture. You were in an awkward position: your head basically hooked over his thigh as you settled between his knees, your arms at an awkward angle and slightly lifted. Regardless, you did the best that you could, your deft fingers working to disinfect, clean, and treat him to the best of your ability.
As you went through all the steps, you made sure to meticulously swab the healing ointment onto the gash, careful to not brush along the edges or apply too much pressure. Allowing the open and somewhat dried tissue to finally have a moment of respite while Caleb leaned his head against the couch himself.
“Yea, mhm…” he groaned out, his eyes fluttering shut, a hand on his stomach as he tried to settle down. Although he was relatively quiet, his body told a different story. No matter how much he tried to act tough, his thighs and muscles tensed, his core a bit too engaged as he made an effort to keep quiet.
“That’s it, baby, don’t worry…almost done…” you added, hoping your words of comfort would at least make him feel safe. Sometimes, you would pause, your hands stilling before you would steal the occasional glance at him.
After a few minutes, you pulled away with a satisfied sigh, your hands sliding down to your lap before giving a small stretch.
Your body is slightly sore from being in the janky position for a while. Before looking back up at him, you decided to place the materials back into the kit first. Your voice was content and like a coo as you broke the silence.
“Well, now that that’s over, we can at least celebrate your birthday, hm? I made some of your favorite dishes, and the cake took forever!” You chuckled to yourself, your fingers clasping the kit before setting it to the side.
“Not to mention the gifts that I bought you! Look, I know the night came off to a rough start, but seriously, tonight is all about you…” A delighted hum left you before you met his gaze, your eyes slightly widening as you came face to face with his Adam’s apple instead, “Hm? Caleb? Baby?” you asked, confused due to his lack of response (again) but less worried.
With a small groan of protest, Caleb lowered his head and made eye contact with you, his expression one of fatigue and fondness. “Hm? I’m here, I’m here…” he groaned and languidly reached to pet the top of your head. His fingers slowly and almost drowsily carding through your fingers: a sign of appreciation.
“Did you hear anything that I just said?” You felt that familiar smile of your own start to form on the corners of his lips as his voice rang in your ears.
“No…not really,” he laughed and met your gaze, his head slightly tilting to the side before he slid his hand to cup your cheek. “Thank you though, really…I mean it,” he murmured, his eyes filled with that adoring glint, and his brows slightly furrowed before he added, his tone much more lighthearted, “and for my birthday party too.” He gestured with a nod to the rest of the living room.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice how much effort you put into our night, or—well, what was supposed to be”, he gave a small shrug and stroked the contours of your face with his thumb pad, his calloused skin brushing against the soft, supple flesh of yours.
“Yea, well, we didn’t exactly get to celebrate it,” I murmured, a bit disappointed yet amused.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I spent it with you, didn’t I? That’s all I ever wanted, baby.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead. The action earns a soft and delighted sound to leave your lips as he lingers.
“Really?” You meet his gaze, wide and open, as you recount the events of the night. Even now, all battered and treated, Caleb still made sure you were accounted for; the thought brought a smile to your face.
“Really.”
“Caleb?”
“Yea, pipsqueak?”
“Happy Birthday.”