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Going to his knees is barely a conscious thought anymore, all muscle memory and want and /obedience/, as if he's been waiting for Caleb to make him do it for years.

Sure enough, once his knees hit the floorboards, the flame in Molly's gut redoubles and he kisses the outline of Caleb's erection through his ratty trousers like it's all he could ever want or ask for, rubbing his lips raw against the cotton for the faintest taste of him. Caleb reacts with a groan and a cant of his hips that drags Molly's tongue with it, and his mouth waters at the gentle urgency.

Fumbling claws find the laces of Caleb's trousers, yank them down just enough. He's seen the pretty pink curve of Caleb's cock so many times that he doesn't stop to look at it, just licks a stripe up the underside - god, the /scent/, the delicious human musk of him - and descends, with careful teeth, down to the root.

Caleb near doubles over, shoves himself deep into Molly's throat on reflex, and Molly squeezes his eyes shut against uncomfortable, thankful tears. Caleb is so sweet, never wants to /hurt/ like sometimes Molly likes to be hurt, so he savours every brief moment of lost composure, hollows his cheeks and sucks and imagines what it might look like, if maybe someone watching could see the bulge in his throat from Caleb shoved so deep in him.

By the time Caleb rights himself, grabs Molly gently by the horn and eases him off, his jaw aches delightfully. He grins up at Caleb, who is red-cheeked and breathing heavy, and places a soft, whoreish kiss below his navel. When he goes to speak, his throat is sore and wheezing, so instead, he meets Caleb's electric blue eyes, sticks his tongue out, and points to his mouth.

Caleb's words seem just as lost, but he gets the message well enough; with a shaking hand, he guides himself back home between Molly's lips, where he immediately begins to suckle on him, bobbing his head as he takes just a little more each time. His mind feels free and feral like this; it makes him wild to think of his own arousal, wet and hot between his thighs, pulsing with aching need each time Caleb takes his mouth. How dirty he must be, to get near everything he needs  just from having another man's cock fucking him. /Easy slut/, he imagines in Caleb's lilting accent, and Molly can't help but whine at the idea of it.

Above him, Caleb gasps, takes Molly by the horn again, but Molly doesn't allow himself to be drawn away this time. He relaxes his tongue, eases the slick length of him as far as he can go, and reaches blindly for the Caleb's hand, guiding it down until he can press it against his neck, push Caleb's fingers with his own until they're pressed into the skin nearest where his cock fills him. After that, it's barely a moment; Caleb sobs something that could be Molly's name, loud and desperate, and spills in inarticulate, boyish thrusts down his throat. He swallows it greedily, trembles with the intimacy of it, with the thought of his seed in his cunt or ass or anywhere Caleb might like.

Molly's other hand has found the wetness between his own legs without his conscious mind permitting it, and the hot, choking spill of cum is enough to bring him to his peak, sobbing quietly around Caleb's twitching length as he milks a small, sweet climax from himself.

When Caleb withdraws, the aches in Molly's body become more apparent - his jaw, his back, his knees, all rung out and ruined like some common thing - and he lets himself sit down on the floorboards proper until the fog in his mind clears entirely. Caleb, too, sinks to the floor, in that cute, overwhelmed way he often does. It's a /good/ overwhelming, this time, judging by his ruddy cheeks and the shy smile on his face when he meets Molly's eyes.

Molly doesn't even try to speak; he's so ruined he'll likely still sound terribly obvious at breakfast tomorrow morning, not that that's something he minds at all. He grins in turn, eases back onto his elbows, and lets his legs part slightly, revealing what he's sure is a clear mess between them.

Caleb's eyes widen, which makes Molly laugh hoarsely. It's so nice sometimes, /so/ nice, to not need to speak.