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“God, I miss having a bedroom,” Cellbit huffs one day, days after the dissolution of Green. It’s sometime in the afternoon and they’re all stuck underground, deep inside Red Base as the Watcher decided it would be so funny to give them radioactive rain a few times in a row. Over the risk of being poisoned by so much as stepping outside, a team huddle with those who had been closest to home seems to be the most logical solution to pass the time. “Or a kitchen. Or a dining room,”
Phil sniffles out a laugh at his dull tone and glances over at them — Roier’s sitting up, propped against the hard wall with Cellbit by his side, who has been gradually sliding down throughout the hour and is currently very close to fully lying down on his back. He keeps carving little marks into the stone with the tip of his knife.
“You can’t stay in your office all day anymore, heh,” Roier pats his head and then just presses down, flattening Cellbit’s sweaty hair. He misses Quesadilla too. Bobby’s castle and his city, the pool, the dungeons, Starbobby, and even Cellbit’s stupidly dark Fear Room. Roier tries not to dwell on it too much, though. No use, given that they’re stuck here for the foreseeable future. But he does miss the privacy, sure. The alone time, just him and his family. Some peace and quiet—
Cellbit lets out a disgruntled sound and does a little shuffle towards him, knocking the side of his head on Roier’s thigh. “Can’t lie in bed with you, either,” he retorts, scrunching his nose at him to which Roier pouts. It really feels like it’s been ages since he’s had a nice moment alone with Cellbit. With no running, no tracking, no scurrying for tasks.
Foolish laughs at them, shaking his head. “You guys are awful,” he chides good-naturedly, “At least you’re together. Some of us are alone as fuck,”
“Cheers to that, mate,” Phil whistles, rolling his eyes.
Across the cave, next to a slow stream of cloudy water, Slime makes a grumbled noise in agreement. He’s crushing Baghera a little bit, half of his body thrown on top of her’s and Roier had been sure they were both deep asleep, but apparently not.
“My fucking throne room, dude,” Cellbit whines again, looking up at the tall ceiling. A big crash sounds outside and small rocks trickle down on their heads — most likely a meteor, but he doesn’t let it stop him. “It took me so long to make it look nice,”
“We should tell the eye guy that,” Foolish quips, eyebrows raised as he dusts off his shoulders and extended legs. “Maybe it would let you go back if it knew how cool the castle looks,”
Cellbit hums, nodding quickly. “You too, because you worked so hard on it,”
“Thanks, man,” Foolish grins, at the very same time Roier pouts: “And me too, right? Right, Cellbit?”
“Of course. You too, guapito,” he says immediately, no need to ponder at all.
Roier nods in place, momentarily satisfied, and picks up one of Cellbit’s hands to pluck the knife from his grip. Cellbit protests, but gives it up easily and rolls on his side to face the others instead. Roier picks his nails with the point of the blade until he grows bored, then chucks it aside.
“I hope my pets haven’t fucking died,” Foolish laughs suddenly, “That’d be so bad. I’d have to get so many new ones,”
“Ah, dude, the wall,” Phil is also reminded, letting his head hang back as he sighs. “The crops must’ve grown so fucking much,”
“What day even is it?” Baghera warbles tiredly from her corner, muffled enough that it is a bit hard to understand her. “Is it day ten already? It’s been so long—”
“Yeah, I think,” Phil blinks, pressing a finger to his lips as he thinks, “Something like that, yes,”
“Ten days of this. Holy shit,” is Foolish’s contribution. He throws his arms up and crosses them behind his head.
Roier sighs, restless. Cellbit only glances up at him for a second, then goes right back to the conversation.
It occurs to him he feels rather trapped. In Quesadilla Island, this would be the point in which they’d both slip away to go somewhere by themselves, find an excuse to cut the conversations short and just head out. It’s their usual. How they roll. Roier thinks they should at least be granted a bit of leeway in that regard, maybe a special kind of permission because they’re married and that should count for something — but then he remembers they don’t even have their wedding rings here.
Roier sighs harder.
Cellbit stops, mouth clicking shut. When he looks back at him, his eyebrows are joined together and curious. “Que foi?”
Roier can only shrug, pursuing his lips. The lack of his husband’s undivided attention is kind of taking a toll on him. His real wish is to grab Cellbit by the scruff of his neck and find them a boat to sail away on, but he can’t say that.
“Qué? Nada,” he says loosely instead, tapping distractedly on his own thigh. Cellbit, in turn, fixes him with a squint and props himself up on his elbow. “Just tired, man,”
“Ah,” Cellbit smiles, tilting his head. He’s got him all figured out. “You think we could get a couple hours for ourselves?”
He says it to Roier, like a suggestion, but loud enough they can all hear. Roier knows he’s being serious when he hears it, but the others don’t seem to read into his tone as well.
“Oh yeah,” Foolish just laughs, “Like a little date night, for you guys,”
Phil joins in, huffing sarcastically: “I’m sure the Watcher would love that,”
“He’d probably tell us to eat shit, yeah,” Cellbit chuckles and levels with them easily, offering Roier a shrug of his own. As a last ditch effort, he trails off: “But maybe if you all went away for a little bit…”
It doesn’t land. They chuckle and move the conversation forward, none the wiser. Foolish starts to talk about his newest build, something about a sanctuary and Jacaranda wood and Roier finds himself chuckling, only in disbelief. He subtly rubs his temples and tunes them out for a while, until he doesn’t.
“Hey, guys. Here’s the thing,” Roier flicks his hand around, carelessly pointing the knife he’s picked back up to show he’s addressing everyone. “You can leave, right now, or listen to us have really hot sex, okay? Goodbye,”
There’s a heartbeat of silence as the words sink in, then several of the Bolas members are scrambling to get up. Cellbit laughs, loud and grating in the empty space of the cave.
“Okay!” Phil screeches with a clap, grunting as he forces up on his knees. “Up we go—“
Foolish scoffs, bewildered. “What the fuck?” his eyes crinkle in amusement, though he’s also getting up. “It’s either witness some freak shit or get hit with meteors over the head outside? Man, I don’t like these choices—“
“Yep. Sorry,” Roier cuts in, not very sorry at all. “Get moving. We’ll make it up to you. Maybe,”
Slime and Baghera pull each other up — half weighing each other down, at the same time — with fake cries. Baghera goes on a tangent about how she’s not ready to be homeless and insists they pray she doesn’t die on the surface, because respawning while they’re alone down in the cave would be nothing but awkward for everyone. Phil indulges her until she tires herself out and her words start to blur, then gently shoves her towards the elevator.
“You know,” Slime starts as he sniffles, trailing slightly behind. “I could stay. I don’t mind. You wouldn’t even notice me—“
“Bye, Slime,” Cellbit laughs, kicking in his direction to hurry him along though he’s too far away to actually make contact.
Soon enough, they’re all gone from sight and it only takes another minute until they can no longer be heard above them. Roier has no idea where they intend to go or whether the disasters have stopped, and he doesn’t particularly care. What matters is that he’s got Cellbit right where he wants him. Roier is not one to complain about purgatory, really. He wants to help his team. But Cellbit is his husband, which is another league entirely — he’s allowed to be fussy.
“Guapito, we’re not having sex in here,” Cellbit huffs with a slight grin as he sits up, looking around at the now deserted base.
“No,” Roier agrees, unfazed. He had never really entertained the thought in the first place, though it’s enough of a believable motive that no one bats an eye. It’s a bit funny — how little the rest of the islanders actually know about what the two of them get up to behind closed doors. The wonders of privacy, Roier reminds himself.
Cellbit snorts, raising an eyebrow at him: “Then why did you make them leave?”
“So we can lie here and do nothing for a little bit like we do in the Castle,”
“This is nothing like the Castle—“ Cellbit starts, but Roier cuts him off with a hard nudge: “Shut up, stupid. Just close your eyes,”
Roier closes his own eyes to make a point, but then he feels Cellbit’s gaze on him — warm and branding. His eyes are big and bright, and Roier feels himself flush. “What?”
Cellbit shakes his head, mouth curling into a stupid little smile. “No— nothing. I just missed being with you, like this,”
“Yeah, dummy? Me too. That’s the whole point,” Roier huffs out a laugh, rolling his eyes. He’s known it for a while, but it never fails to surprise him just how sappy his husband can get. And people will say he’s the dramatic one— “Now we can chill. No more people talking. Just us,”
Cellbit scoffs, “What? You think we’re noisy? Was Green quieter?”
“None of you know how to shut the fuck up,” Roier doesn’t back down, eyes widening, “And, you scream like fucking animals,”
“You like it,” Cellbit huffs, just to have Roier shove him again. “Shut up,”
He lies down flat again and tugs on Roier’s arm until he goes down beside him, shoulders clashing and both of them struggling to find a comfortable position on the hard floor. They end up intertwined, one of Cellbit’s legs in between Roier’s knees, and Roier’s arm thrown haphazardly over his husband’s chest. Cellbit rubs his cheek on his shoulder with a happy little noise and Roier indulges him for about ten seconds, until he’s over that position and decides to pin his husband to the floor and flop most of his body on top of him instead.
Cellbit squeaks in delighted surprised then squirms to shift both of their weights and make himself more comfortable. Roier has half a mind to position his knees so he won’t completely crush him, but mostly lets himself be. He inhales deeply, head pressed to Cellbit’s sternum, and smiles to himself. He smells of sweat and grime and faintly of blood. In another moment, he might’ve made a joke out of it. Right now, though, Roier only presses closer.
Cellbit huffs, the way he does when he pretends he’s bothered by his habit of smelling, and it only serves to stir Roier on. He sniffs loudly on purpose, like a dog, and moves closer and closer until he’s right by his ear. Cellbit laughs and jerks away, ticklish, then immediately grabs the back of Roier’s shirt to pull him into a close-mouthed kiss.
Roier hums and does his best to pry his husband’s mouth open, until he feels Cellbit smile against him. He licks the back of his teeth and kisses the corner of his lips with a loud smack, then happily burrows down into his shoulder again. Cellbit lets him, humming, dragging his nails over his back. Roier shudders at that and twists in place, stretching up. They melt into each other easily, basking in the intimacy like they’ve done many times before. If Roier closes his eyes tight, he can almost forget how harsh the stone cave is on their backs. If he tries hard enough, he won’t even hear the running water a couple feet away from them.
Roier feels Cellbit’s teeth catch at the side of his neck. His canines scratch, then he jolts as he snaps into himself. Cellbit jerks away and turns his head, straying away from his skin.
“You can bite me,” Roier hums, trying to guide him back but Cellbit shakes his head, grunting. He’s so eager to get away his head hits the floor with a thump. Roier clicks his tongue, soothing him. “Really, Gatinho,”
“No, I don’t—“ Cellbit mumbles, kissing across his jaw instead. “Don’t do that anymore,”
Roier huffs then tugs on his hair, working a groan from the back of his throat. “You’re not eating me ,” he reassures. “It’s just a bite,”
Cellbit chases after his mouth, trying to distract him, but Roier only allows it for a short while before moving out of his reach. “What if I can’t stop?” Cellbit says quietly after a beat, his doubts real and weighted on his tongue.
“I trust you,” Roier says into his cheek, then doubles down: “I want it,”
Cellbit gasps, hips canting involuntarily. “Roier— Oh my god,”
Roier laughs, nuzzling into his neck. “What? You like that?”
“Shut up,”
He laughs more, tilting his head to lick around the shell of Cellbit’s ear. “Bite me— please?” Cellbit shudders sharply beneath him and Roier grins at the feeling. Feigning a pout he’s sure Cellbit can feel on his skin, he insists: “Come on, please, ”
For his troubles, Cellbit grunts and then bites down quite meanly. Roier hisses and goes slack, body squirming in place as the sting spreads warmly from the junction of his neck and shoulder to the rest of his body. “Like that?” Cellbit asks, smug even though Roier can tell he’s out of breath.
“Asshole—,” he counters through a chuckle and Cellbit tongues over the wound just to make him gasp again. “Shit,”
Cellbit stretches his neck to press a kiss to his clavicle, then gently pushes Roier’s chest. He gets the hint immediately, well-rehearsed by now, and swiftly rolls off to lie beside him instead.
“You’re all good?” Roier hums, eyeing appreciatively at where Cellbit’s tank top has lifted and exposed his navel.
“Yeah,” Cellbit laughs airily, “I’m good,”
He traces the outline of Roier’s lips as they fall silent, touch heated on his skin, and Roier licks his thumb just to hear his breath hitch. Cellbit cusses him out in Portuguese, much too quickly to make out past general intent, and wipes his damp fingers on Roier’s own shirt.
“How much time do you think we have until they’re back?”
“No idea,” Roier sighs, yanked back to their current predicament.
Cellbit kisses his cheek. “You’re cute when you want alone time with me.”
Roier grumbles, and he keeps on: “Though next time you could just say it, instead of kicking everyone out like that,”
“Nah,” he shakes his head, scrunching up his nose, “No way. It worked!”
Cellbit scoffs, but drops it. A moment later, he hums wistfully: “If we were home, the sun would be coming through the balcony and our bed would be so soft,”
“Why would you say that—” Roier makes a wounded noise, then quickly joins in: “If we were home, I’d make you take a bath.”
“I think I’d like that,” Cellbit replies, very earnestly, and it makes Roier laugh.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, curling inwards and nudging Cellbit’s feet with his own.
“Are you guys all done down there?” Foolish yells out from the upper level of the cave, startling them both. Sound doesn’t carry well underground, but he’s loud enough that the words are unmistakable. Roier guesses they’re trying to make sure, before actually taking the elevator down and he’s inclined to say no just for kicks — buy them a little more time.
“We’re naked!” Cellbit cups his mouth for volume, somehow in-tune. He holds back a laugh behind closed lips and Roier fights to do the same as a commotion starts up upstairs, hushed, worried voices that blend into each other.
After a few moments, Foolish’s voice reaches them again: “A—alright! We’ll give you a second!”
“What— was that even a full hour?” Roier quips, half-amused, and watches as Cellbit rolls his eyes at the ceiling. “Not even close,”
“Okay,” Foolish warns, very loudly, “We’re coming down,”
Cellbit pulls himself upright with a huff and grabs Roier’s hand to help him up. He fixes his wrinkled clothes and dusts off his shoulders, not that it makes much of a difference. Locking eyes makes them fall into a fit of tired giggles, at the same time the elevator is triggered.
“Hey guys,” Slimecicle is the first to step through, eyes wide and shirt drenched, somehow. “How was the sex?”