Sweet On You

2/26: Snacking on sweets

A conductor’s work is never truly done.

As soon as the door slides shut behind them, Reece exhales. The passengers are settled, the sleeper cars are ready, and after hours of preparation, the overnight train is at last on its way.

And not a second too soon! Anything can happen on a journey this long. Even just thinking about the possibilities makes the space between Reece’s eyes feel too tight. Their fingers prod cautiously at their face, searching for the right spot to knead and press their current troubles away. 

If a “right spot” even exists, they think. 

Hold on. Where did that come from? Reece frowns. Maybe some light self care really is all they need. How should they know? Everybody has their daily stressors, after all. As the individual responsible for keeping the Emerald Express on schedule, they certainly have more than their fair share of reasons to feel a bit worn around the edges!

They lift their arms up over their head and gently tilt their torso from side to side. One by one, their neck, shoulders, and back all click back into place. There! That should do it. Satisfied, they pull the hem of their vest back down to its spot, nice and neat. 

Now that they’ve got that all settled, there’s plenty more to consider. With the passengers drifting to sleep, there is no better time to ensure they wake up to the Emerald Express at its absolute finest. Someone has to make sure that the dining car silverware is completely polished, and that the extra linens are properly folded; that the floors are once again spotless, the window panes once again dustless, the carpets unsnagged, the curtains unwrinkled, not even to mention the state of the door handles-

A sudden ache grabs them by the shoulders. They wince. 

They should probably sit down. 

An empty car can be such a blessing in disguise. Usually, Reece prefers their train to be comfortably populated; a full train is a happy train, after all. As they flop into one of the wide, cushioned benches in the nearest cabin, however, they find themself grateful for the Overnight’s smaller clientele. Come morning, they’ll find themself wandering in search of passengers with an interesting story to tell, but for now, a place without any chance for concerned looks sounds mighty fine by them.

Beneath their hooves, the floorboards hum. Logically speaking, Reece knows better than most that a machine as powerful as the locomotive could level a sizable chunk of Bovine Bluffs in no more than a handful of minutes. Trainwrecks are remarkably rare, but that makes it Reece’s job to consider the possibility. Still, it’s hard to imagine something that sings its own lullaby could ever cause that kind of damage. 

Without thinking, they let their hand creep into their pocket. They may know every detail of the watch’s golden case by heart, but they never quite seem to get tired of how it feels to rub their thumb on its smooth surface. The device pulses in their palm, tick-tick-tick-tick-tock. In combination with the train’s steady, placid tune, it’s almost like Reece is at the center of their own personal orchestra. 

After a handful of moments spent worrying at the surface of their timepiece, they at last take notice of an unfamiliar object brushing up against their knuckle. Curious, they fish the item out, drawing it forth by its small, silky drawstring. Once they have it in the light, they recognise it instantly: a tiny sachet of lavender tulle, given to them during their last visit to Brewed For You. 

Instantly, their face goes hot. They should have expected Jasper to have some sort of treat at the ready. A handful of sweets in a decorative bag isn’t exactly an uncommon thing for a barista to hand out during the Spring’s Eve festival. They did not, however, anticipate that the misshapen mocha caramels would come with a personalized label, nor a handwritten note alongside it!

As if on cue, their nose twitches as it catches the candies’ scent. Though not the prettiest things, save for the charm inherent to handmade gifts of any nature, it’s clear that Jasper put immense care into his creation’s enticing fragrance. Hints of vanilla serve to bring out the more chocolatey tones of Jasper’s trademark mocha flavour, giving a practiced depth to the outcome. And, of course, being a treat of Jasper’s making, he has made the artful and learned process of balancing various scents and flavours appear utterly, exceptionally effortless.

Reece’s stomach grumbles. Of course. As often occurs during the preparation phase of an Overnight trip, they’ve forgotten to eat.

They look to the cabin’s sliding door, then back to the sachet. In an ideal world, they would snag something from the dining car before launching into their next phase of arrangements. For a moment, they consider stuffing the caramels back into their pocket and simply getting back to work- only for their joints to tighten in protest. Fine, fine. It’s just candy. Sampling one or two wouldn’t do them much harm. Would it?

Slowly, they slip a finger into the sachet’s opening. It loosens readily in their hand. They swallow. The encouragement of a second finger gets the bag fully open, its contents ripe for their perusal. Ultimately, they choose one closer to the top. It’s smaller than all the others, and therefore takes less out of the altogether population, percentage-wise. Or something like that.

Lifting the candy up to their nose, they inhale gently. They’re not certain if sticky caramels like these even go bad, but it would be awfully convenient if this one had a hint of sour to it. To the contrary, however, they find its aroma to be even more beguiling up close. Without another second’s hesitation, they push it past their lips to rest on their tongue.

Oh. Oh that is absolutely delightful.

They suck on the caramel preciously, careful not to get it stuck in their teeth. Their eyes flutter closed. The familiarity of Jasper’s signature Mocha is… oddly soothing, to be completely candid. Sure, it’ll only be a short collection of days until they’re back in Bovine Bluffs, but with so many Moos traveling back and forth to friends and lovers across the continent these past weeks, time has stretched itself thin. 

But enough of that. They can think about just how many folks are relying on them to get them where they need to be later. Isn’t that what Jasper would say? They can practically hear his voice, rich and silky in their ear. Maybe if he were here right now, he would have his hand on their shoulder, talking them through the process of getting through… whatever this is. Maybe he’d tell them to keep on going, ask them what’s next. 

“You told me what you can hear.” The Jasper in Reece’s head takes care not to pull too hard as he takes their long, glossy hair into his broad, careful hands. “You told me what you can taste.” They imagine him untying their hair tie and running his fingers through their loosened locks. Is it realistic? No, probably not, he’s certainly in bed by now, but-

Reece flushes. Are they really debating the logistics of this silly fantasy? 

“Hey.” The envisioned Jasper pulls them back into the present and, frankly, they see no harm in allowing him to. “You told me what you can hear,” he repeats, bringing his voice into a low whisper. “Now, what can you see?”

Through the window, they can make out the barest hint of silhouettes against the blanketed sky. Trees and fences fly by unconcerned. Briefly, they catch sight of a distant glow, warm and bright against the dark backdrop of night. It’s been so long since they’ve caught a break, they forgot what it’s like to look out into the darkness and wonder what all those other folks out there might be thinking of right now. 

A contented sigh escapes their chest. For the first time in weeks, their shoulders sink into a more reasonable posture. How long have they kept themself so clenched up?

They imagine Jasper smiling, watching them uncoil. “Good,” he says. “Now, what do you feel?”

In reality, they feel shirt fabric crumpled up against the sides of their torso. A grimace spreads across their lips. The seams of their button-down and vest have been struggling as of late, more so than they have in a long time. They always hated the way that an ill-fitting garment can pull their close-cropped fur in all the wrong ways. 

A single glance down confirms the cause. “Whoa, buddy!” Jasper’s chest rumbles with laughter. Reece thinks it must feel good to lean against him while he laughs, kinda like resting against the walls of the Express while the train is in motion. They let themself sink further into the bench, ignoring the deep, deep flush that warms their cheeks. 

Were Reece a little braver, they would think about Jasper’s hands-- the same ones that would have been playing with their hair mere moments ago-- play with the buttons on their vest. He’d undo them one by one, toying with the pressure the garment places on their freshly budding breasts. Then, without warning, he’d tear their shirt open in one, swift motion.

They would gasp. “Jasper!” they would say, a hand flying to shield their face. “I’m- I’m at work!”

Cautious, Jasper would run his thumb across their exposed chest, so puffy with neglect. “Life and work gotta coexist, Reece.” Despite his playful tone, the hint of concern in his voice would be clear. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself.” 

His fingers would trace the scars beneath their breast, gentle as anyone could ever be. Then, he would pinch the most sensitive spot, drawing a cry out from their lips. “Jasper!”

With a broad grin, he would pull them closer into his arms. “I’ve got you,” he’d say. “Let me take care of you. I’ve got you.”

The cabin has become unbearably warm. They pop another candy into their mouth, pretending that it’s Jasper’s fingers pressing the caramel past their lips. How long have they been rocking their hips back and forth? Hopefully not for too long. Not that it matters- who’s even awake to walk in on them at this point?

Reece presses their thighs together. The inseam of their trousers folds inward, and they can’t believe just how willing they are to rub up against it. 

“Good!” Jasper presses a kiss into their neck, and they’re certain that getting a kiss from him there would be nicer and warmer than from most others. “See? That’s the spirit.”

“Of course you would say that,” they mumble under their breath. “You’re always closing the cafe early.” 

Once more, the bench rumbling against their spine makes a mighty fine replacement for Jasper’s low, lovely chuckle. “Fair point,” he says. “But how often do you think I have to touch myself in a back room just to relieve some stress?”

Before Reece can protest, they shove another caramel into their mouth. If they can’t stop the stressful thoughts from happening, then a pre-emptive application of the distraction may be necessary. This time, they’re a little less cautious with their chewing. Their jaw strains at the effort. Somehow, they can’t find it in themself to mind too terribly. 

“Alright, Darlin’.” Jasper’s phantom hands trail down their torso, stopping right above their belt. “Not too much longer til I can let you get back on your hooves, yea?”

They nod. They feel so much better already. Sure, they could probably get up and working again now, but what’s the hurry?

Fingers dance along the belt before moving downward, tracing a lazy path towards that wonderful little spot where their inseams meet. “Just got three more questions for you.” 

The illusion of hot breath against their ear makes Reece shiver. “Y-yes??”

“First.” A slow spiral presses gradually towards the warmth between their thighs. “What do you need to do?”

Reece swallows, hard. Coffee and caramel linger at the back of their throat. “Take care of myself.”

“That’s right. No exceptions.” A palm presses flat against them, perfect to grind up into. Jasper’s always had such a kind smile. Maybe it gets a little mischievous when he’s helping someone out. “Second question: what do you want?”

“Want?” Reece sputters. That’s- no, that’s not a fair question to ask! They want many things! Many of which are not so easily contained by the boundaries of this singular fantasy!

The image of Jasper falters for a moment. He shakes his head. “Here. I’ll skip to the third question then- it’ll be the same answer, anyways.” The hand glides up and down, but just barely, like he’s waiting for them to take the initiative. Instinctually, their hips lurch forward, desperate for contact. Not even a moment later, Jasper grins. His free hand pinches their nipple, hard. “Tell me one more time: what do you taste?”

“You!” The word leaps from Reece’s mouth before they even think to stop it. Once it’s out there, however, it refuses to be caught. It refuses to be shoved back in. They gasp. 

They can smell coffee on their breath.

Suddenly, they are alone again, sprawled out on an empty bench in an empty passenger car. Their shirt and vest are still buttoned, their hair still tied up. Their thighs are clamped tight around their own hand, which feels remarkably small.

The sachet, fallen to the floor several minutes ago, lays withered on the carpet. Careful, they roll their head back and forward in one slow, gentle circle. No pops this time. They lean forward to pick up their gift, then sit up straight.

There are only three caramels left in the bag. Not that there were many to begin with- they know for a fact they only ate… three, was it? Four? Nevermind that. Once again, they bring the sweets up to their nose. Part of them hopes that, with a newly cleared mind, they might be able to detect hints of some sort of aphrodisiac. They trust that Reece wouldn’t go that far, not without asking, but it certainly would explain their bizarre behavior.

No dice. All they can smell is caramel, mocha, and a hint of vanilla. 

Beneath their hooves, the train’s wheels hum against the track. There’s still work to do, guests to prepare for, accommodations to arrange. Someone’s got to polish all that silverware, after all. Reece clears their throat, and rises to stand. 

They straighten their vest. Like magic, the tension in their neck and shoulders and all of their joints is practically gone. 

Alas! A conductor's work is never truly done!