#I am holding a delicious beautifully frosted cake with 12 bags under my eyes bloodshot & weary please accept this humble gift I made

[cloverthebarbearian]

Do You Think Of Me...?

Rolan x AFAB/OC, NSFW, 6,034 Words

A fic inspired by an incredible piece of fanart by @sammakesart, the full image of which is a patreon exclusive that is well worth the money and has been living in my head rent free for weeks. For WEEKS. (Ref Sheet for OC)

"I mean. We live in the tower now, yeah? And its Big and all, but we still like to have rooms near each other. I don't know, it feels safe… comfortable, after everything. To know we're close by. But it also means, sometimes, things aren't always… private…" Clover slowly took sips from their pint, eyes still locked on Cal's darting gaze. Biting his lip, knuckles white in his lap. Clover's eyebrows raised, "Okay? And?" Cal lowered his head, "Pleeease don't make me say it…" Lia threw her head back and nearly yelled out in exasperation, "GOOOODS Cal you're such a BABY sometimes. Listen, Clover… Clover. We know," she shoots Clover an intense stare, "We knoooow things. About Rolan. Things no siblin's should know," her hand reached out to grab their arm, "An' Rolan? Reeeeeeaaally misses you…" a knowing smile crept up on her face. Clover's cheeks felt warm, but they weren't even sure why. The gears in their head not fully turning as the alcohol worked through their veins. "What… what do you mean?"

It was a lively evening at the Elfsong. Swarms of friends deep in drink and song flooded the tables of the tavern, the Hero of Baldur's Gate among them. Busy catching up with Cal and Lia, Clover took a healthy chug of their pint amidst the laughter around them.

"And THEN he tried to tell us 'an unseen servant would be more useful'," Lia continued her ranting, "Like, sure Rolan. Good luck gettin' an invisible jester ta' help with your customers."

Apparently, Rolan had been particularly difficult to work with this past week. Between drinks, Lia was busy retelling all of his criticisms and complaints over his siblings earnest attempts to help him run Sorcerous Sundries. Now that he was the Master of Ramazith's Tower, he had to learn all of said Tower's secrets - on top of learning to run an already successful business. Admittedly an overwhelming task as is, and likely even more so for a perfectionist like Rolan.

Cal followed Lia's complaints with his own, "I get that it's been a lot as of late. But you'd think the man would be grateful to have the extra hands about! And it's not like the patrons are complaining. Hells, some bloke even tried to ask Lia on a date after shift!"

Clover raised an eyebrow to Lia at that, who simply shrugged and sipped her own drink, "He was like, 60 years old at least. Or maybe 600. I think he was an Elf? Besides, if anything, its Rolan who needs someone to ask 'em out. Hopefully someone to help yank the stick from 'is arse." Clover snorted out a laugh in response.

"You really think that would help?" They pondered aloud, "Gods, I can't even see Rolan out on a date. Let alone finding someone attractive. That man only seems to care for Tomes and the Weave," Clover chuckled to themselves, "I mean hey, Mystra's single now, maybe I could set them up..."

Cal and Lia shot each other knowing glances, poorly hidden smiles curling at the corner of their lips. This was a look that Clover recognized immediately. That token Sibling Telepathy. Clover dropped their pint on the bar with a thud and planted their palms on the counter, shooting them their own knowing glance.

"Okay," they pointed between the two of them, "What's all this?"

The siblings eyes darted at Clover and then each other, trying to hide their bubbling laughter.

"Us?" Lia said sarcastically, hands raising up in feigned innocence, "Nothin'! Nothin', honest."

"Y-yeah," Cal said with a lilt in his voice, "You're totally right that Rolan doesn't even find anyone attractive, even. The mans practically a… a Eunuch!"

Lia groaned, "Cal, ew."

Clover rolled their eyes, "You two clearly know something. Some weird secret that I guess I'm not privy to," They folded their arms across their chest, "Very rude to withhold information from the person who's saved your lives on probably, Seven different occasions at this point?"

"Oh c'mon Clove, you can't hold that against us forever," Cal groaned.

"I actually think I can," Clover retorted, "Until you've saved my life seven times, at least." They picked their drink back up and finished the final gulp, tapping their mug against the counter with a wink in request for the barmaid to top them off once more before turning back to Cal.

"Alright Bud, I know you can't keep a secret. So, what the Hells are you two keeping from me?" Cal suddenly turned a bit pale, eyes wide.

"Clover, y-you know I don't do well under pressure…"

Clover leaned in closer to him, their barbarian eyes narrowing, a bite in their voice, "Exactly."

Lia, now tiptoeing between drunk and utterly sloshed, ran her finger around the rim of her cup, giggling to herself, "Clover… you're gonna make'm piss 'imself."

Cal groaned, "Listen, I'll tell you. But it's just. It's weird! It's weeeeeird, Clove."

The dwarf grinned to themselves in victory, "Alright, then. Spill." Lia stared at Cal with a sly grin.

"Yeah Cal. Tell 'em Rolan's little secret~" Cal groaned once more, shoving his face into his palms.

"Okaaay," Cal relented, "Gods above, I… Auuugh, so. How do I even…" he was struggling to find his words, "I mean. We live in the tower now, yeah? And its Big and all, but we still like to have rooms near each other. I don't know, it feels safe… comfortable, after everything. To know we're close by. But it also means, sometimes, things aren't always… private…"

Clover slowly took sips from their pint, eyes still locked on Cal's darting gaze. Biting his lip, knuckles white in his lap. Clover's eyebrows raised, "Okay? And?"

Cal lowered his head, "Pleeease don't make me say it…"

Lia threw her head back and nearly yelled out in exasperation, "GOOOODS Cal you're such a BABY sometimes. Listen, Clover… Clover. We know," she shoots Clover an intense stare, "We knoooow things. About Rolan. Things no siblin's should know," her hand reached out to grab their arm, "An' Rolan? Reeeeeeaaally misses you…" a knowing smile crept up on her face. Clover's cheeks felt warm, but they weren't even sure why. The gears in their head not fully turning as the alcohol worked through their veins.

"What… what do you mean?"

Lia's smile turned even cheekier as she threw her head back - fake, exaggerated moans falling from her lips, "Ohhh~ Fuuuck, Clover- Yes Clover, please! Take me jus' like that," her speech slurred as she rocked her hips in frantic thrusts. Cal lowered his head onto the bar's tabletop as Clover's eyes went wide and their face went fully flush.

"Oh, my Gods…" they muttered to themselves, lifting their pint back to their lips. Lia's mocking cries turned to raucous laughter.

"I'm jus' saying. If anyone could get that man to relax…" she lifted her cup in Clover's direction before taking another hearty swig.

Suddenly, the gears in Clover's skull decided to start working. Frantically.

"Well, then," they announced, hopping off of their bar stool, "maybe I should go get the job done."

Cal and Lia once again exchanged wide eyed stares with each other, "What, like… like, right now?" Lia asked, as if shocked into a sudden sobriety. Clover chugged their nearly full pint in a handful of large, thirsty gulps. The final drops of liquid courage they needed before slamming the glass back onto the counter.

"Yeah, I guess like, Right Now. Y'all've had a hell of a week, right? If I can help…" Clover smiled to themselves, "It's kind of what I do," they gave Cal a cocky grin, "I will count this as saving your life, again. Mark me up to eight."

"Gods dammit," Cal let his head fall back onto the bar. Lia began laughing, clasping her gut as she bellowed.

"He should still be closing up at the Sundries!" Lia started hollering after Clover as they began to leave the Elfsong, "We'll stay here tonight, so take your time!"

Clover heard Cal stammer out, "Lia, that's disgusting!" Before walking into the cool night air.

Sorcerous Sundries was but a brief walk away. And Clover couldn't help all but skipping towards their unknowing wizard, his dirty secret at the forefront of their mind...

The open doors of Sorcerous Sundries allowed a pleasant breeze to flow through the lobby. Rolan took in a breath of fresh air, busying himself balancing the account records of sales for the evening. A small crew of mage hands floated around him, carrying stacks of sales records, tomes to be organized, sorting through everything from profits to taxes to local investments.

He'd typically give himself the time to pat his own back at his creative means of multitasking. If only his mind weren't so overcome with the newfound pressures being Ramazith's Master have brought him. Yes, the Sundries was a success trade business. Yes, the tower held treasures and secrets and power aplenty. But Gods, had Lorroakan ever opened a checkbook in his life? The debts this man owed, the back taxes and unkept promises Rolan was now forced to follow up on. Though grateful to not have a cane to his jaw, the stress of picking up his former Master's mess was taking its toll.

The faint footsteps of a guest entering the building could be heard across the tiled floors.

"Ah, terribly sorry but we are closed for the evening- Oh," he glanced up from his busy work to see the Hero of Baldur's Gate approaching the Sundries counter, "it's You," he mumbled, the voice of customer hospitality lost in his tone, "What do you want?" He questioned, adjusting the pair of reading glasses sat atop the point of his nose, glancing back down at his records.

Clover hesitated a moment, "Ouch, not the warm welcome I was anticipating. Is this how you treat all your customers?"

"I don't anticipate you're here to purchase something," Rolan remarked, focus fully back on his paperwork. The mage hands organizing the storefront flitted around Clover's head as they continued to approach the counter. Rolan just barely took his eyes from his work to peak up at the dwarf in front of him. He paused, "Did you need something?"

Clover slid their hands across the countertop, "Oh, what? I can't just… happen to be in the neighborhood, dropping by to say hello to an old friend?"

Rolan rolled his eyes back to his work, "We're friends now, is it? And here I thought you were nothing more than my siblings overpaid babysitter," Clover's head cocked to the side.

"You don't pay me."

Rolan flipped to a new page on his countertop.

"I know."

Clover rolled their eyes, strumming their fingers against the polished wood, pondering how to get to occupied wizard's attention. He was dressed so casual - his robes gone, wearing just his loose undershirt and fitted trousers. Emboldened by the alcohol still buzzing through their bloodstream, and their newfound knowledge of Rolan's secret desires, they decided to walk themselves behind the Sundries counter.

"This space is for employees only," Rolan commented, without looking up from his records. Clover paid him no mind, walking up to him and lifting themselves onto the counter directly in front of the Wizard, who responded by sighing. Exhausted and irritated, he hung his head, laying his palms down on the counter before him, "Would you kindly be an utter inconvenience somewhere else? I'm trying to work here," he gestured to his documents, but couldn't seem to look the barbarian in the eyes.

"Oh, Rolan, I'm hurt," Clover responded, "Is that really what you think of me? I'm just an, 'utter inconvenience'?"

"Right now? Yes!" Frustrated, he finally found himself looking at Clover's face. But rather than maintaining his building rage, his breath caught in his throat.

They were much closer to him than he initially realized. He could see their mismatched eyes so clearly. Clear enough to see - no, smell - the magic enchanted in the blue glass eye to his left. He could also smell the heavy alcohol on their breath. Though their dwarven fortitude kept them composed, the sour wheat smell of beer was unmistakable. He found it mixed beautifully with their natural sent of musk, the sugar plum soaps he knew they preferred, and that faintest whiff of copper, from all the blood that often soaks their body after battle. Caught in the sheer aura of them, he nearly didn't register as Clover's hands gently gripped at his forearms resting at their sides.

"I'm sorry," they lied, "I must be a real bother right now. I'm sure you're thinking of a million different ways to get me out of your hair," they made a point of dragging their right hand up his neck and tangling their fingers into the hair on his nape. Without even thinking, Rolan's hands moved from the countertop to hesitantly reach for their thighs. Fingers hovering, as if touching them in earnest would cause them to vanish.

"Don't you just wish there were some way you could… shut me up?" Clover's heavy gaze flitted between his eyes and his lips. Rolan swallowed a lump building in his throat, and (unsuccessfully) tried to will away the growing pressure in his pants.

"C-Clover, what are you-"

"Tell me something Rolan," they interrupted, using their free hand to remove the glasses from his face. Their noses brushed against each other as warm breath mixed in the air between them.

"Do you ever think of me when you cum?"

Rolan's entire body shuddered, from head to toe to the tip of his tail. His fingers clenched around their thighs as he pulled their bodies flush.

"I…" He choked, holding his breath for a second that felt like an eternity, before letting himself go.

"Yes," was all he managed to say in response. Spoken in a heavy breath - a whisper, a moan, a prayer. They were already so close, neither one knew who moved first. But as soon as the word left his throat, their lips crashed together in a frenzy.

There was no patience, it was not gentle. Clover fueled by liquid courage and Rolan fueled by sheer desire. Tongues tangled as shared saliva slowly dripped from the corners of their mouths. They kissed each other as much as they breathed each other in, only pulling apart once Rolan bit Clover's bottom lip. Tugging at it gently, just barely breaking skin with his sharp incisors. Chests heaving as they both took a moment to collect themselves. Rolan lifted a hand in the air, eyes lidded and unfocused. With a flick of his wrist, Clover could hear the doors to the Sundries closing and locking shut, as the lights inside dimmed to the gentle flicker of that magical blue/green glow of enchanted flames.

"Well, someone sure knows how to set the mood," Clover quipped, draping their arms around Rolan's neck and leaning back in for a kiss. Which he returned, deeply, but briefly, before breaking away from them again. Clover whimpered in disappointment, trying to pull him back towards them. But Rolan's hands reached up to their arms around him, stilling their movements for a moment.

"Clover…" he whispered, his voice deep and aching, "Why are you here?"

He looked confused, almost scared, his burning yellow eyes glowing in the dim lighting, unwilling to look at them. It hurt Clover enough to not laugh in response, but they never thought Rolan capable of being so dense.

"Is it… is it not obvious?" Their fingers played with his hair. Rolan scoffed, smiling weakly.

"It just feels, surreal. It feels like I'm dreaming…" Clover lowered their head to catch his gaze.

"Well, you're not," they said softly, "but let's pretend that you are. Let's pretend this is a dream," they nudged against his nose with their own, trying to catch his lips, "You're dreaming. And I'm here," they whispered, "What do you want to do with me?"

Something stirred in Rolan's chest. Without looking at them, he captured their lips again, sliding his fingers beneath the hem of their shirt. He began to lift the cloth upwards, but stilled himself, pulling his lips away just for a moment. Clover smiled, whispering approval to continue before catching his lips again. Rolan pulled their shirt up, the hem resting on his wrists as his thumbs traced the shape of their skin, cupping their breasts as he passed over them.

Clover stilled their kiss briefly to let out a moan, and Rolan took the opportunity to remove their shirt completely before returning his kisses to their lips, down their chin, down their neck. Clover's arms wrapped tightly around him, hands holding the back of his head as his tongue traced a wet line from their neck downwards. He explored their skin, finding the shallow dips between their collar bone, kissing down lower until his tongue and hands met their puckering nipples.

"Fuck, Rolan..." Clover moaned, gripping his head by his hair and pushing his face into their chest. Rolan responded in kind with a deep, purring moan. His lips fully encompassing their nipple while his tongue traced around it. Quick, frantic flicks of his tongue followed by desperate sucking left Clover's chest bruised and swollen. When Rolan lifted his head up for a breath, he kissed Clover once more, then returned his focus to their other breast, making sure he provided both with equal pleasure.

The sounds leaving Clover's mouth were bordering on sinful. They had their legs wrapped around Rolan's body, kicking their shoes off their feet and rocking themselves into him. They could feel their own arousal pooling between their legs. Their hips bucked aggressively as Rolan took the stiff bud on their chest between his teeth, and pulled. Clover threw their head back and whined in pleasure.

Rolan smiled, his hands leaving the curve under their breasts and traveling down the soft skin of their torso. He hooked his fingers under the fold of their waistband, tracing his sharp nails across their skin towards the center of their pants. He began to deftly untie the laces of their trousers. Clover unhooked their legs from behind his back so he could pull the rest of their clothes from their body.

Rolan ran his hands along Clover's thighs as he removed one pant leg after the other. Fully exposed, Rolan took a step back to appreciate the creature in front of him.

Clover's chest was heaving, their pale neck and chest marked red from all the kisses and bites Rolan left on their skin. Their legs were spread wide open for him, the folds of their cunt dripping and twitching in anticipation. They had one hand propping themselves up on the countertop, but the other was dancing across their skin, tracing the ghost of Rolan's own fingers in his absence. They shivered, the chill of their bare skin mixed with anticipation.

"I know you're enjoying yourself," Clover mumbled, breath heavy with lust, "but if you don't come back over here and touch me, I'll-"

Rolan nearly tripped over himself returning to their embrace. He grabbed behind their ear with one hand, pulling their hips into him with the other, kissing them so deeply Clover could feel him shaking against them, before pulling away from them abruptly.

"What are you limits?" He asked in haste. Clover's response was hazy and confused.

"My… what?"

"How far are you willing to go with me? Do we need a… a… a signal? A safeword? To tell me to stop, or…" His hand tightened against their waist.

Clover smiled. Even in a situation like this - sat here completely naked, their body visibly yearning for him - he was so nervous. So mindful. They reached their hands under his chin and kissed him softly.

"We can do whatever you want," they kissed him again, a gentle laugh escaping their lips before saying, "though I wouldn't mind being thoroughly ravaged by you."

Rolan let out a sharp, sudden laugh. Or perhaps a grunt, even. Something almost animal.

"Then I hope you'll allow me to indulge myself," he responded, before quickly dropping to his knees. Hooking his arms behind Clover's thighs, he pulled them to the very edge of the counter, letting their legs drape over his shoulders. A wild look flashed across his eyes before he began planting kisses along Clover's inner thighs. Kisses, and bites, not shying away from biting hard enough to draw blood between their legs. Clover gave a sharp inhale, causing Rolan to glance up at them, an unspoken question.

Clover ran their fingers through his hair, clenching their legs a touch tighter against his back, nodding for him to continue. He purred again, a sound Clover's core was beginning to respond to in kind, before biting their soft inner thigh once more, creeping closer to their center. They smiled and shuddered, letting their head lull back, "Do all tieflings purr like that?"

Rolan licked the blood from their thigh, kissing their skin ever inwards, "Only when we're excited," he responded, before sliding his thumbs up between the folds of their cunt, spreading them open for him. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of their desire, and ran his tongue up their dripping arousal. He sucked their clit into a kiss, rolling the sensitive nub against his tongue.

Clover's hand immediately went from a fistful of Rolan's hair straight to his horn, pulling him in closer, "My Gods, Rolan - Fuck!" They nearly screamed as his mouth explored them. Thighs gripped tightly against his head, their hips rocking with a sudden urgency. Rolan could hardly control himself as he moaned, and gasped, and devoured their cunt. The nectar dripping from their swollen lips worth more to him in this moment than air to breathe.

He slid his tongue inside of them, holding the lips of their pussy open between two fingers with his left hand, and carefully massaging their clit with his thumb. Rolan could feel the inner walls of Clover's sex trying desperately to clench around him as he ate them out, and lulled his eyes up to look into theirs.

Clover was putty under his touch. Their chest was heaving, sweat building on their brow. Their cheeks were flush, their eyes were watering. Seeing the way their body responded to him made Rolan's dick twitch painfully beneath the restraints of his pants.

He slid a hand around Clover's thigh. A feeble attempt to loosen the barbarian's grip, which they thankfully understood. Rolan leaned back a moment for a breath of air before standing tall and crashing their lips together, allowing Clover to taste their own sweet musk of arousal. They had draped their arms around Rolan's neck, while the wizard frantically attempted to remove his own garments. Clover caught on to his movements and began assisting in removing his shirt as he wrestled with his own trousers. Both parties having a difficult time as they refused to let go of each other's lips in the process.

"I hope - it's not - to forward," he said between kisses, "But I - I," he grabbed Clover's face and held them in a deep, steady kiss, before pulling them away, "I think if I - If I don't have sex with you this instant, I may - I may go mad."

He took Clover's hand and brought it down to his throbbing member, though he let them take their own time in touching him.

They looked into him, a coy smile and devilish gaze behind their eyes. They gingerly took the tiefling's erection in their hand, and Rolan's knees all but buckled in response. He had to grip onto the countertop to stop himself from collapsing. Clover laughed quietly under their breath, stroking his cock with increasing fervor.

Rolan kissed them again, quickly tracing his mouth from their lips to the crook of their neck. Clover wrapped their legs around the small of his back, guiding the tip of his dick towards their desperate heat. They rocked themselves against him, sliding the length of his shaft between their slick folds. They could feel his entire body tremble against them, hearing the sweetest whimpers escape him as his face remained buried in their shoulder.

Barely audible, he tilted his head toward their ear and weakly begged them, "Clover… please…"

They traced the end of his cock back to their pulsing entrance and rolled their hips against him, allowing the tip to gain entry. They could feel Rolan's breath catch. His hands found their way to Clover's hips once more, holding them steady at the edge of the counter as he slid his entire length inside them with ease. The complex curves and ridges of his infernal features could be felt within Clover's walls.

"Rolan…" His name fell from their lips in a desperate moan as the tip of his cock reached the deepest parts of them.

Rolan stilled once fully sheathed, Clover's cunt pulsing and throbbing against him in pure anticipation. They rolled their hips ever so slightly. Rolan cursed in response, his voice shaky and low.

He began to drag himself out of their pussy once more, almost reluctant to leave them, until just his tip was teasing the entrance of their hole.

Rolan slammed his cock into them, hands fixed upon their waist so firmly his nails were threatening to break skin. He gave Clover a few long, powerful thrusts like this. Dragging himself out nearly in full before burying himself within them.

Soon enough the long, drawn out strokes were replaced with closer, more frantic thrusts. Rolan's hips barely leaving the embrace of Clover's own as he humped them like an animal in heat.

Rolan lifted himself from the shallow curve where Clover's neck met their shoulder. He pressed his forehead to theirs, grunting hard as he fucked them. Clover's hand gripped the back of his neck as they held his wanton gaze.

"How long have you wanted this?" They asked, panting, their hold on his neck tightening, "How long have you wanted to fuck me like this?"

Rolan's pace picked up, keening under his partner's commanding presence.

"Since - Since Last Light," he stuttered between his heaving breaths and desperate thrusts, "S-Since you saved - saved them. Since you s-saved us. Since you - Ah - since you freed me of - of my tormentor - and made me Master of this Tower," his movements grew sporadic and urgent as he spoke.

Clover laughed as they moaned, "Oh fuck, Rolan, that's right. You're the Master of this Tower now," They gripped him by his hair and gently yanked his head back. The whimper that escaped Rolan's lips at their touch was pitiful. Clover began running kisses up and down his neck, before tracing their tongue below his ear.

"Fuck me, Master Rolan," the lust dripping from their voice was intoxicating. Rolan's hectic and rhythmless thrusting sped up, his moans entirely debauched. Clover could feel their cunt clenching around him as they inched towards their own release.

"Yes, Clover - Fuck!" Rolan moaned and whined as he felt them on the edge, "Take your Master's cock. Take me just - just like that," Clover's grip on his hair tightened as their mouth opened against his neck.

"Rolan!" They nearly wept as they came over his thrusting cock, juices spilling out of them with every shallow plunge.

"Gods, Clover, I'm - I," he could barely finish his attempted warning before Clover caught him completely by surprise, pushing him out of them and dropping onto their knees. They gripped his cock as the shaft pulsed beneath their touch, laying the head of him against their tongue. They stroked him frantically, his member still sticky and wet with their juices.

"Fuuuuck!" Rolan's hands fell to the counter as a powerful orgasm ran through him. His legs shook as thick lengths of cum released into Clover's mouth. Strings of his spend so long they reached across their cheeks and nose. Clover smiled as they rubbed him through his release, sucking on his head to milk every last drop of him.

Once the last of the aftershocks finished running through him, Rolan dropped to the floor to join his equally exhausted partner. Their backs resting against the counter shelves. Slick with sweat, heaving chests, swollen lips, both covered in marks from each others touch.

Clover leaned their head against the wizards shoulder. Rolan placed his head atop theirs, turning and planting a kiss in their hair. Clover ran their fingers on the floor absentmindedly. Rolan took notice, and slid his own hand across the floor a touch, gently nudging his sharp claws against the dwarf's rugged, calloused hands. They responded immediately, interlacing their fingers with his own.

They turned to look up at the man who had just well and truly fucked them near senselessness. They had never seen him so disheveled. His hair was loose and curling with is sweat. He was still panting, this likely being some of the hardest physical work a magic user like him has had to do in quite some time. Still naked, Clover took the time to examine the man's infernal features. The spikes and grooves on his chest and shoulders that so starkly contrasted their own soft and squishy stomach and thighs.

They took their free hand and ran it up his chest, tracing the bumps under his skin. Rolan jumped at the unexpected touch and looked down at his partner, equally debauched. He laughed as he attempted to wipe some of his now drying spend from their face, instead opting for a quick prestidigitation. Clover smiled.

"How are you feeling?" They asked. They weren't really sure what to say, now that the deed had been done. But they were here to help him relax, after all. They should at least find out if it worked.

"How am I feeling?" Rolan responded, almost in disbelief, "That's a rather loaded question, I mean... I still feel like I must be dreaming -"

"But you're not," Clover interrupted, planting a kiss on his shoulder.

"I… yes. Okay, yes, but I'm not," he sighed, resigning to the truth of the situation, "Then I feel like… I feel like I just, um…" He cleared his throat, "I feel as though I just bed the most beautiful creature in all the realms. Gods, in my place of business, no less. I hate to see the mess we've made in proper lighting," He trailed off into his thoughts, almost embarrassed by circumstances.

Clover climbed onto his lap, straddling him in an attempt to get his full focus, "Thank you ever so much for the very literal explanation of our current situation," they expressed with a playful mocking tone, their hands running up and down his arms, "But I do in fact mean how are you feeling, emotionally. Do you feel okay?"

Rolan sat still for a moment. As if he truly needed to consider whether or not he felt okay after all of this. Clover's heart was pounding, suddenly worried if this was a bad idea. That is until Rolan reached up for their face, pulling them in for a tender kiss. When he let them pull away, he held both their hands in his own.

"Clover, I feel incredible. And I feel… confused? But the incredible aspects outweigh the confusion. And perhaps we can discuss the confusion some other time, because right now, I… I'd really like to bask in the incredible."

Clover smiled, and nodded, leaning into Rolan's chest. He wrapped his arms around them, breathing deeply of their scent, committing it to memory. As exhaustion fully took its hold on them, they melted into each other's embrace.

The morning light crept through the stained glass dome of Sorcerous Sundries in a dance of rainbow prisms. The twinkling causing Rolan's dreary eyes to squint tight before slowly opening.

He was sat on the floor behind the Sundries front counter, still undressed, with an equally bare dwarf sleeping soundly against his chest. The memories of the night before washed over him. Clover's body flush against him, calling out his name as they came with him inside them. It all sent a renewed wave of arousal crashing through his body.

That is, until he heard a shout from the busy streets outside, and the reality of his current predicament crashed over him even harder.

"Oh Gods," he glanced around himself. Papers strewn across the floor. Various bobbles lay in disarray, likely dropped by the mage hand assistants last night once he lost concentration on the spell. Drops of his own errant spend now dry on the shelves. Stains of sweat and what other fluids he could only guess marking the floor beneath them. He palmed his face, rubbing his temple between his fingers before rousing his partner from his arms.

"Clover, get up," he started to lift himself from the floor as his companion groaned, "Get up, damn you! We fell asleep," he was whispering, as if someone outside might overhear them. Clover sat themselves upright, eyes still closed.

"Yeah… We fell asleep. People tend to do that when they're tired…" Clover mumbled.

"We fell asleep in the Sundries you idiot!" Rolan was trying to dress himself while cleaning up after last night's… experience, "We have to leave - No, you have to leave. I have to finish cleaning up before I open," his movements were frantic. Clover watched him dart around, still sat on the floor. He conjured a quick bust of himself - a modified version of mirror image, perhaps? - swearing as he attempted to fix his hair. Clover yawned, lazily picking up their own clothes and dressing themselves at a snails pace.

Still sat on the floor, Rolan found himself tripping over them as he aimlessly paced around the counters. Stacks of paperwork flew from his arms as he fell. Clover tried to reach out and break his fall, though it did little help.

"Bugger it all!" Rolan slammed a fist against the tiled floor, propping himself to his knees, "Could you PLEASE get up and either help me, or leave!" He shouted in Clover's direction.

They both froze, Rolan held his breath.

"Y'know…" Clover slowly stood up and walked over to the wizard kneeling on the floor. At this height, they were at eye level with each other, "Calling someone an idiot and demanding they leave the morning after you've fucked them silly? Not exactly the best impression one wants to make," they tried to joke, lifting a hand to his cheek. Rolan didn't comment, his gaze locked onto the floor.

Clover sighed, pulling his head to their chest as they held him. Their strong arms felt both soft and secure, the rhythm of their heartbeat providing a sense of grounding Rolan didn't even realize he so desperately needed. As Clover spoke, their voice reverberated against his cheek.

"I'm no mage, Rolan," they started, one hand gently stroking his head as they spoke, "I can't detect your thoughts, or calm your emotions with a spell. I can't compel you into a zone of truth and force you to be honest with me. But I can tell when someone is overworked, and overwhelmed," they squeezed his head tighter for a moment before releasing him and holding his face in their hands. He looked up at them, his eyes glossy with tears he refused to shed.

"You need a break, you stubborn jackass," Clover said with a smile, "There's nothing wrong with that. I think the city will survive if the Sundries is closed for a day or two. And if you're truly that worried I'm sure I could convince Gale to come visit and-"

"Absolutely not," Rolan interjected sternly, clearing his throat, "Forgive me, but that man has no idea how to speak to patrons without coming across as a pretentious, pompous, know-it-all."

"Oh, but you do?" Clover retorted with a grin. Rolan seemed shocked at first, then smiled back. Chuckling to himself, he reached up to hold Clover's hand, pulling it from his cheek and planting a deep kiss against their palm. Taking a deep breath, he stood up, still holding Clover's hand.

"I'll set up the portal upstairs to take you to the washroom of the tower. Let me finish with what I had started last night, then I'll come join you," Clover cocked an eyebrow.

"You'll come join me, eh? In the glorious, magical washroom of Ramazith's Tower?" They tried to tease him, but he simply turned to them with devious look in his eyes.

"Yes, I'll be joining you. After I finish cleaning up the mess you made," he leaned down to their ear, "Be grateful I'm not forcing you to help," he said sweetly, kissing their cheek. He raised his hand and flicked his wrist, the familiar sounds of a transportation portal wooshing to life on the floor above them, "Now, off with you. I don't need any more distractions, especially if you'd like me to get this finished quickly."

Clover smirked as they began to walk off, "Whatever you say, oh great Master Rolan," a shiver shot up his spine as they dragged out his title across their tongue. He tried to compose himself, but his tail flicked with excitement as the dwarf ascended the staircase.

"I'll be waiting."

#rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #rolan x tav #tav x rolan #I am holding a delicious beautifully frosted cake with 12 bags under my eyes bloodshot & weary please accept this humble gift I made