lostcybertronian:

I LOVE IT AND I ENJOYED WRITING THIS FAR MORE THAN I SHOULD HAVE

Also this pairing could be called “Celinost”

Tags: @caffeine-eater @authorsathenaeum @tiny-yan-an @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @holyshitsnakesandspace @blue-greenstylinson @cookieface678 @bing-iplier @storm337 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @pixelenchanter @itsjustkyss

He knew she would come. Still, he feigned surprise when the bathroom door creaked open and light footsteps wandered over the tile floor, when the shower curtain rattled aside and an elegant figure slipped in.

    “The Host expected Celine to be with Damien and Wilford,” he told the hands that reached up to cup his face, the lips that met his a moment later.

    “Nonsense,” she said, and there was a hint of amusement to her tone. “You knew I would come.”

    “The Host knew you would come,” he admitted.

    She laughed and kissed him again, slow and sweet and soaked with the scalding spray of water.

    The Host wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her closer, relished the feel of her touch.

    “What else do you know?” She murmured, her fingers wandering up, tracing with utmost care the bruised, scarred skin just around his eye sockets.

    The Host smiled against her lips and in one, smooth motion scooped her up into his arms. “The Host knows where they are going next.”

—

    They collapsed into bed together, dripping wet and all hands, kisses, warmth.

    It was some time before either of them spoke again, and it wasn’t till Celine was curled in his arms, head cushioned on his shoulder, did she ask, “what’s your real name?”

    For a moment, he allowed himself to be tempted, to lose himself in the delightful sensation of her fingers trailing idly across the bare skin of his chest. But then he remembered who and what she was, and that moment vanished just as quickly as it had come.

    “The Host’s name is the Host,” he said, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her delicate fingers.

    She raised her head, and he could picture her pretty lips slipping into a frown as she pulled her hand away. “Your name cannot really be ‘the Host.’ No one can possibly be named that.”

    He shrugged. “The Host is the Host.”

    A light huff. Then she was laying her head back down, and there was a hint of amusement to her tone as she said, “you never know. Maybe I’ll get it out of you someday.”

    Dark’s face flashed at the front of his mind, but still he chuckled, humoring her.  “One never knows.”