[ He smiles again at the noise, at the exhaustion yet contentment that exudes from the man wrapped up in his tentacles as he carefully escorts him through the passage, opening the door to a simple and clean bedroom, the curtains drawn to block out the sun's light. A bedroom he'd pointedly told the building guards to avoid for a full 24 hours with a look he knew would keep them away. A pitcher of water and a few bread rolls sit on the table next to the bed he carefully lays Luke onto, take a chair while his tentacles take to work using a water basic to clean the man off properly. ]
[ All of it a level of aftercare probably strange to associate with the man. As if Kleken had been thoughtful about giving the man some time and resources to recover even after he awoke from his exhaustion. ]
[ Kleken himself cleans up in the attached bathroom, changing into clothes he'd kept waiting for himself while a few of his tentacles keep an 'eye' on their guest. Though he doubts the man will be waking anytime soon. ]
[ Whenever Luke comes to, Kleken and his tentacles will be gone. All that remains of him is a note left on the bedside table, his writing neatly on it, and the eggs still inside the man's womb. ]
They will disappear in a few days. Schedule an appointment with me if you'd like more.
[He's surely out for at least the next few hours, worn into quiet exhaustion. The most movement he makes is just in being set down on the bed, in fact—simply to curl properly in place. Beyond it he's quiet and still, belly rising and falling with slow, calm breath.
And when he wakes... oh, to say everything hurts is almost an understatement. It outlines just how real everything was—not that he can imagine he would have dreamt something like that unprompted. Certainly not with Kleken, of all people. True, Luke doesn't buy the deeply negative inferences people tend to throw around the conman, as though he has no redeeming qualities... he's too observant to have missed the occasional slip of the persona. That doesn't make him a more tempting candidate for a bed partner.
schedule an appointment, he writes. The utter gall. He can barely think beyond the ache and the strange feeling of fullness, why would he... well, okay, yes, he can think of a few reasons.
And a few more, in the coming days. Because as it turns out, Luke seems to be quite the breeding type—once his aches have subsided, he finds himself frustratingly needy any time the eggs shift inside him. Not even under pain of death will he admit how many times he has to get off in the shower when he can finally use it, nor how disappointed and empty he feels when the eggs are gone. If he gets deep enough, he can still scratch that deep itch, just for a moment...]
no subject
[ All of it a level of aftercare probably strange to associate with the man. As if Kleken had been thoughtful about giving the man some time and resources to recover even after he awoke from his exhaustion. ]
[ Kleken himself cleans up in the attached bathroom, changing into clothes he'd kept waiting for himself while a few of his tentacles keep an 'eye' on their guest. Though he doubts the man will be waking anytime soon. ]
[ Whenever Luke comes to, Kleken and his tentacles will be gone. All that remains of him is a note left on the bedside table, his writing neatly on it, and the eggs still inside the man's womb. ]
They will disappear in a few days. Schedule an appointment with me if you'd like more.
no subject
And when he wakes... oh, to say everything hurts is almost an understatement. It outlines just how real everything was—not that he can imagine he would have dreamt something like that unprompted. Certainly not with Kleken, of all people. True, Luke doesn't buy the deeply negative inferences people tend to throw around the conman, as though he has no redeeming qualities... he's too observant to have missed the occasional slip of the persona. That doesn't make him a more tempting candidate for a bed partner.
schedule an appointment, he writes. The utter gall. He can barely think beyond the ache and the strange feeling of fullness, why would he... well, okay, yes, he can think of a few reasons.
And a few more, in the coming days. Because as it turns out, Luke seems to be quite the breeding type—once his aches have subsided, he finds himself frustratingly needy any time the eggs shift inside him. Not even under pain of death will he admit how many times he has to get off in the shower when he can finally use it, nor how disappointed and empty he feels when the eggs are gone. If he gets deep enough, he can still scratch that deep itch, just for a moment...]