Caleb's breath catches as Yussa's lips leave his again and his slender fingers trace the stubbled line of his jaw. His permission is so simple, but so assured it makes his cock throb. His pale skin is flushed, his blue eyes dark with desire, and he takes one more grateful kiss before he sinks to his knees.
He can feel cool tile through his jeans, but it doesn't matter where he is. What matters is Yussa's warm brown skin under his lips as he mouths from his hip to the waist of his pants, where his clever fingers are already working the button open and pulling down the zipper. He wants to taste this man. He wants to lose himself in giving him pleasure and think of nothing else.
Intelligent and observant as he is, Yussa's allusions during conversation and current evidence are more than enough information for Caleb to draw the correct conclusion. There is no surprise and certainly no disappointment when he slides the elf's pants down his thighs and finds his smalls damp. He doesn't hesitate to press his mouth there with a low moan, feeling the heat of his cunt as his tongue wets the fabric still more.
Some little bit of tension unwinds as Caleb doesn't hesitate even a second once Yussa's pants are lower. Still, he isn't anticipating how much Caleb's eager attention gets to him. He tries to hold back a moan but his hand presses against the back of the young man's head as his tongue presses against his wet smalls. Yussa can feel the heat through the fabric and his hips jump, trying to grind closer as he seeks the pleasure offered to him.
His free hand presses against the wall behind Caleb for balance. Yussa makes himself relax, releasing that tight hold on the other man's hair though he offers no apology. He'll be more careful, but gods he wants to encourage this. It's been too long since he's had this.
"Come on," he urges, voice tighter than he'd like it to be.
Drawing a moan from Yussa already is deeply encouraging, and Caleb ceases his attentions only when the other man removes his hand from his hair, pulling back just enough to look up at him and speak. "Nein," he protests, a soft groan. "Hold as tightly as you like. Please."
He needs no further encouragement to get to his task. Single-minded and eager, Caleb's fingers hook into his smalls and draw them down his thighs as well. Finally he puts his mouth exactly where it belongs. His hands clutch at Yussa's hips and his tongue parts his folds in a firm lick, curling as it reaches his clit to roll over it again and again.
The taste of him, the scent of his arousal, and the silky, blood-hot sensitive skin under his mouth--this is everything Caleb wanted. He barely hears the music from the club filtering into the bathroom, but he is hyper-aware of every sound Yussa makes, every twitch of muscle--every demand, voiced or not.
He closes his eyes the moment Caleb's tongue runs up his slit with determination. The way Caleb grips his hips is just as exciting and Yussa tests it as soon as Caleb starts giving more dedicated attention to his clit. He grinds closer and his hand stays firm on the back of the younger man's head.
Yussa must admit to himself that part of the appeal of this is just how pliant Caleb is as he offers himself, his mouth, for use. The temptation to take advantage of the position is almost overwhelming and Yussa tries to refrain--for now. He wants to see what Caleb is capable of without his insistent intervention.
He leans into the hand he has braced against the wall and he allows himself to moan, just loud enough to be heard in the space they share.
Caleb's grip is more to steady himself than to stop Yussa from moving, so he'll find that he's very able and welcome to fuck Caleb's mouth in whatever way suits him. For now, Caleb is doing plenty of that himself. He belongs here on his knees in attentive supplication, his face between Yussa's thighs without a care for how his wet cunt is making a slick mess of him from nose to chin. He laps along his slit, dips the tip of his tongue teasingly past his entrance, and closes his slick lips around his swollen clit with a rumbling, pleased hum.
His eyes slip open as he gives an eager suck, attentive and striking blue. Caleb gazes up at the lovely elven man leaning over him and finds he is inevitably enthralled by his eyes in turn. Gold. He'd noticed that stunning feature right away. There is so much more about this man he wants to discover, to know. Perhaps if he proves himself now, he'll be allowed.
The hand cupping the back of his head ensures he stays right where he is, which is just how he likes it. Beyond his obvious physical beauty, the air of effortless authority Yussa possesses is a large part of what he'd found so immediately attractive about him. Caleb is harder than he's been in months just from this, from being used, from being useful to such a man.
Yussa's fingers tighten when he meets Caleb's gaze. His thighs tremble and he makes a more concerted effort not to make noise beyond is already heavy breathing. But he finds he can't stay silent.
"That's it," he encourages, because such work deserves some praise. Ridiculously, he's excited by the prickle of the other man's beard against his most sensitive places.
He finds he wants very much to get a leg between Caleb's, to feel the press of his hard cock against his boot. But given that his smalls and his trousers are only just down around his thighs, he'll have to save that thought. The last thing he wants is to compromise his balance or change Caleb's position when he is so thoroughly enjoying himself. With a little smirk, his free hand makes a vague gesture and Yussa whispers something that's lost beneath the bass thudding through the walls. But he has a piece of copper wire wrapped around his finger, and a few seconds later Caleb can hear his voice in his ear.
"You look like you belong right where you are," he purrs, managing to sound less breathless than he feels. "Do you want me to come on your face, Caleb?"
Seems polite to ask. Given the sheer skill and enthusiasm of Caleb's mouth, it's going to happen soon. Yussa can feel it building.
Caleb's mouth is very busy, so the moan he that rises from his throat when Yussas's voice purrs directly into his mind is muffled. Yussa is right; he does belong here. With Message, he is able to respond, but his tongue is doing something so much more important than speaking, rubbing tight up against his clit.
But gods, of course he wants that. Nothing would be more satisfying.
His tongue pulls back to lick Yussa's slick from his lips, and he murmurs a single word for the spell to carry to the other arcanist's ear.
"Please."
He could beg more prettily, but something tells him that Yussa will appreciate his work more than his words. He licks into his cunt like his starving for it. His hands slide from his hips down to his thighs and his tongue presses as deep inside him as he can make it reach. The sensation, all tight velvety heat, draws another helpless moan from Caleb's throat. Reflexive, his hips gives a sharp little rock into empty air, but Caleb hasn't even bothered to open his pants, let alone touch himself. His hands have been on Yussa all this time, squeezing gently and rubbing appreciatively over his soft skin.
While his arousal is persistent and aching, Caleb has deliberately not acknowledged it. In this encounter, it is Yussa's pleasure he finds most gratifying. He wants to dedicate himself fully to that. The needs of his own body are present, enjoyable as background noise, but unimportant.
"Good--" That is as much as he manages before his breath catches in his throat. He moans and his back arches as the young man's tongue pushes inside him. His cunt squeezes briefly around it and he tries not to buck against Caleb's mouth. Gods, has it been so long that he's become easy, or is it a testament to Caleb's skills? Yussa chooses to think it's the latter.
It doesn't matter: the effect is the same.
Yussa moans sharply the next time Caleb's lips and tongue find his clit and he shivers hard over the younger man. His hips move rhythmically as he chases his pleasure. It builds to a sharp, delicious crescendo and he presses harder than he means to against the back of Caleb's head as his orgasm snaps through him. Seconds later, his hand goes lax in Caleb's hair, barely holding on at all as he's wracked with pleasure.
When Yussa's hips begin rolling down, grinding against his mouth, Caleb becomes especially pliant, offering his tongue to rub off against and moving where Yussa directs him. Though his knees are starting to twinge a little from time spent against the hard floor, it is a distant feeling, and he puts it far from his mind. His arousal too, warm and thrumming beneath his skin, but not a focus. Allowing Yussa to use him, becoming a tool for his pleasure, takes up the entirety of his attention, and it is blissful.
Though it is everything he's been working toward, it almost feels as though Yussa's orgasm happens too soon. Caleb would gladly gladly do this for twice as long--an hour, the rest of the night. But he may be in luck; one thing he's always envied about people with this arrangement of anatomy is their ability to come again and again without the kind of rest in between rounds that he needs. If Yussa is at all interested, Caleb will make him come as many times as he wants to tonight.
Still, the adrenaline-fueled excitement and pure satisfaction that sink through him when Yussa presses hard against him at the moment of his peak is second to nothing. A soft, eager whine lingers in the back of Caleb's throat as his lover's grip goes slack. He keeps the brush of lips and tongue gentle as he works him through it, taking a firm grip on his thighs to make sure Yussa stays on his feet.
A soft, ragged moan escapes him as Caleb sweetly works him through the delicious little shocks that come after - or maybe he's the cause of them. He nearly loses his balance, might have, if not Caleb's hands on his hips. Yussa indulges in the perfect caress of Caleb's tongue a little longer before he finally draws his hips back. Not far, just enough to make himself clear.
He doesn't move otherwise, save to press his other hand against the wall behind Caleb. He pants for breath, eyes nearly closed as he relishes the pleasure still rolling through him. He stays like that, possibly for too long considering it keeps Caleb on his knees. But, after another moment, Yussa eases back to lean against the opposite wall - thankfully not very far in the small stall - so that Caleb can at least get up without knocking him over.
It's his pleasure, genuinely, to help Yussa wring every bit of pleasure from those little aftershocks that he can. When he pulls away, Caleb swallows audibly and licks his lips again, sitting back on his heels and watching Yussa take his time coming back to himself above him. Getting to see him panting, still a bit unsteady on his own legs, is a reward itself. The moment stretches on, wonderfully intimate despite their location.
Caleb's hands gently release Yussa's hips and fall to his own lap. Finally, with a sharp breath, he takes hold of his own cock through his jeans, but he is simply adjusting himself so that his erection isn't quite so obvious. When Yussa moves, he pushes himself to his feet without a word about it, wincing only as his knees complain.
Though he once again towers over the smaller man, Caleb's shoulders hunch inward in a way that makes him seem to take up a little less space. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, leaving a wet smear over his skin and making very little impact on the glistening mess covering his lips and chin.
"Thank you," he says, soft and a little hoarse, and means it.
Yussa watches Caleb get to his feet, noticing for the first time the way he makes himself smaller. Had he done that before? He'd been paying attention to other things. After the young man attempts to clean his face, Yussa makes a small gesture and speaks a soft word to cast Prestidigitation. Really, it's the least he can do. Even in this light he can see the... impact of his arousal.
The hoarse quality to Caleb's voice earns a faint smirk. He considers the young man in front of him - including the obvious bulge in his pants, despite his attempts to make it less apparent - and he considers his options.
Maybe it's reckless to invite a stranger into his home, but Yussa is certain he can manage should Caleb turn out to be anything but what he appears.
Oh, Prestidigitation--that's convenient. Caleb rubs his fingers over his newly clean face with a murmur of thanks. He'd been planning to wash up in the sink (they are in a bathroom, after all), but now he need not even bother with that.
He shifts just a little under Yussa's scrutiny, nervous despite giving what seems to have been a fairly stellar performance. His posture gets even worse, knowing that he's being evaluated, and he has to keep his hands from rubbing at his forearms through his long-sleeved shirt. Though it feels like the seconds drag by, in truth it is only a handful before Yussa apparently judges him worthy of further attention.
"Ja," he answers quickly, clearly relieved. "I would like that. Anywhere that will be easier on my knees is good." He smiles at his own joke, and though Yussa is a good deal shorter, Caleb still manages to look at him through his lashes, a little bashful now that their momentum has slowed.
"Good. I can certainly offer something more comfortable." Yussa's fingers curl, gripping Caleb's shirt as he draws the younger man closer to him. He looks up into those lovely blue eyes, then speaks the spell to teleport them straight to his home.
Seconds later, with a rush of arcane energy, they appear in a dim sitting room with a large, very comfortable-looking sectional. Yussa can't help but feel a bit pleased with himself - possibly bolstered by the wine he'd been enjoying not long before they disappeared into the bathroom together.
"Better?" he inquires, voice soft and warm. Even in the dim light, the large windows are unmistakable. Rather than showing the night lights and skyline of Rexxentrum, however, they show a dark sky filled with stars. Yussa draws back, slowly backing up until he can sit on the edge of the chaise part of the couch.
Caleb barely has a moment to register what is happening before he is shunted through space, a spell on the older man's lips that he is only just now working on teaching himself.
They appear in a beautiful space, one Caleb can only assume to be Yussa's home. It certainly suits him. But even as he takes in the windows, the greenery, the comfortable and elegant furniture, he is marveling at the wizard backing away to settle on the couch.
His confident, casual spellcasting had indicated to Caleb that he was an experienced practitioner; only someone with years of practice and familiarity with the arcane casts the way that Yussa does, even with cantrips. But now he knows for certain that he is powerful. An effortless casting of Teleport is no small feat. How does Yussa just keep getting more attractive?
"That was an impressive bit of spellwork," he says, hushed and a little awed, only registering that he's been asked a question a moment later. "Ah--yes, please." He is only human; his eyes aren't at all useful in the dark. "Being able to see you would be preferable."
"Less impressive when you consider everything I'm wearing is from this place, and that I have spent every day here for months," he quips. Teleporting is not easy, he will not say that it is - it can go very wrong very quickly for the inexperienced or the brash. But, all of the factors he's listed make this considerably easier. The only thing that would make it more so is a circle, which... he is still considering.
When Caleb requests more light, Yussa flicks a hand. The faint glow in the room - offered by lanterns throughout the room - becomes brighter but still allows for soft ambiance. It's certainly better lighting than the club bathroom, or even the bar.
"There." Yussa takes a moment to get a better look at Caleb. He keeps his gaze on the other man as he leans down to get his boots off. "Won't you join me?"
"Even so, it is powerful magic," Caleb insists, unwilling to be deterred by Yussa's attempt to downplay it. A wizard doesn't learn that spell in the first place until they are exceptionally advanced. Caleb is powerful enough himself, and he hasn't gotten there yet. Not the version without a landing circle, at least.
When Yussa waves the lights on--or brighter, at least--Caleb blinks to adjust. The glow is soft, atmospheric, but enough to see by. The room is still more beautiful properly illuminated. As is Yussa.
"Of course," he agrees, a little breathless. Gods, the lighting at the bar had not done Yussa justice. His skin is not only a lovely rich brown, but the undertone is warm and golden. The fine lines around his eyes and other subtle markers of age in his face only serve to make him more handsome. And his eyes--the way they reflect the light makes them look molten. Caleb can't join him fast enough.
Still ignoring the bulge of his erection, which has barely flagged at all in the last several minutes, Caleb hopes he is interpreting the invitation correctly when he lowers himself to the floor in front of Yussa and reaches for his boots to take over removing them.
Yussa will be able to get a very good look at Caleb like this; his blue eyes, his flushed and freckled skin, his long red hair half tied back, but discheveled from Yussa sinking his hand into it. His long-sleeved henley, dark jeans, and boots are simple, and the shirt in particular is slightly too big on his slim frame. The top two buttons are undone, showing a hint of collarbone. What really stands out about his attire, though, is his book harness--absent his books tonight, per Beauregard's recommendation. The dark brown leather straps with their bronze buckles, clearly well used and well cared for, cross over his body in a way that flatters his proportions, accentuating the span of his shoulders in contrast to the taper of his waist.
The beautiful rug he is kneeling on beside the couch is a great improvement on thr bathroom floor, and he can't help noting as much with amusement. "My knees are feeling better already," he quips, eyes bright as he glances up.
Yussa sits up as Caleb sinks to his knees. He finds it fascinating that it is such an easy thing for him, to the point that it is the first thing the younger man does when he's invited closer. He relaxes while Caleb works on freeing him from his boots. As he works on one, Yussa's other foot presses against Caleb's groin, and he swears he can feel how hard he is through the sole of his shoe.
And he can't help but notice the familiar lines of a book harness. He runs his fingers over the worn but strong leather, appreciating how it feels and how it looks. He has a better idea of Caleb's shape now, and he decides he's invested in seeing him completely, if they can get that far. It isn't' that Caleb strikes him as skittish, or even that he sees any hesitance - none, judging by that performance in the bathroom - but the setting is different now. The chemistry hasn't changed, but the urgency has died down. Well, his urgency has.
He slips his fingers beneath a strap on the harness, and he relinquishes the pressure on Caleb's cock when he feels the other man's hands on his ankle. He'll have to play nice for a few seconds if he wants his boots off completely, so he does. But he doesn't let go of the harness.
"I should hope so," he says lightly, a smile playing on his mouth. "I won't even make you stay there all night."
Caleb is diligent but efficient as he works on Yussa's first boot, though his progress is interrupted when the second moves between his legs. Pressing down over his cock, Yussa applies just enough pressure to make his eyes flutter closed and force him to take a loud, shuddering breath just to keep from making an even more pathetic noise. Heat spreads through him like a drop of ink through water, intensified by Yussa hooking his fingers under the straps of his harness. There is something he finds deeply erotic about the way his instinct toward submission, his need to please, and his embarassment at his own arousal intersect like this, and Yussa handles him so perfectly he can barely believe it.
Luckily he manages to finish his work before he can do anything as mortifying as grinding against the sole of Yussa's boot--though it is tempting. The pressure is released, to both his relief and dismay, and he concentrates on the leather under his hands rather than the aching throb of his cock. Quickly enough he eases the second boot off as well, stroking his thumb along the high arch of Yussa's foot as he does.
Looking up again and catching sight of that smile makes his stomach flip in hopeful anticipation. "I would not complain if you did," he husks. "It is probably apparent by now, but I enjoy being...useful. Spending the night tending to your needs, whatever they may be, would make me very happy." The admission makes his face burn, but he doesn't hesitate to say it. He knows what he likes, and Yussa seems like he could take control of him in exactly the way he longs for as effortlessly as he cast Teleport.
They met at a kink club; he hopes this isn't too surprising. Would it be too much to hope that Yussa saw this in him and wanted him because of it?
His smile grows into something a little sharper, not cruel, but very aware of the dynamic they are creating. Yussa enjoys the care Caleb is taking with him, and he is thrilled that his decision to indulge has paid off. The raw desire in the way Caleb looks at him and the flush in his face as he confesses what he wants are just as appealing as the sweetness of his touch.
The admission isn't a surprise, but Yussa couldn't have anticipated just how well matched they are.
"Come here," he murmurs. He keeps his grip on the harness and eases back along the chaise, encouraging Caleb to join him there. And as soon as the younger man is close enough, Yussa's other hand slides boldly over the shape of his erection, still trapped behind his clothes. He offers a firm rub and finds he has to take a deep breath of his own. Caleb's voice is delicious, his cadence and accent deeply appealing. Yussa will not deny himself the chance to hear it more tonight.
He pulls on the harness again and leans up to kiss Caleb. Even after casting Prestidigitation, he can still catch a hint of his own taste on Caleb's lips and tongue. Yussa licks into the younger man's mouth, then breaks the kiss enough to speak.
"If you are going to tend to my needs, you'll have to undress me further."
What can Caleb do but follow? Intrigued, he allows Yussa to pull him along by his harness up onto the chaise. Hovering over the other man on his hand and knees, he groans a curse under his breath in Zemnian as Yussa cups him through his jeans, offering a firm stroke that is more than Caleb has allowed himself all night. His cock throbs at the attention, and Caleb's focus is brought back to his own arousal, which he has otherwise been very successful at ignoring.
It is the perfect way to render him distracted and receptive for the kiss that follows, which steals his breath and immediately makes him want more. He'd be pleased for Yussa to spend the rest of the night kissing him like that. When his eyes slide open again, there is a moment where he both looks and feels slightly dazed as he gazes down at the other wizard.
"How much further?"
It seems pertinent to ask, even if he's already responsible for halfway removing Yussa's pants and smalls once tonight. He thinks he might have felt the edge of a binder under his shirt earlier, in retrospect. As much as he would love to undress Yussa entirely, he doesn't want to be the cause of any discomfort.
"You can start with everything from the waist down," he says, still quietly confident. Yussa can't imagine not removing his shirt, but they can get to that in a moment. He lays back, looking terribly indulgent as he relaxes against the cushions and pillows behind him.
His pulse has picked up again and he takes a steadying breath. Gods, it's unreasonable how much he wants this. Feeling Caleb's cock through his pants has fanned the flames of his desire and very suddenly and very sharply, Yussa wants more of him.
He keeps his gaze on Caleb as he starts to unbutton his blouse.
"You should undress as well. At least down to your smalls."
After Yussa specifies, Caleb gets to work. He's done this once already; the second time isn't so hurried. Yussa looks devastatingly attractive lounging there lazily undoing the buttons of his own shirt, and Caleb glances back and forth as he eases first his pants and then his smalls all the way down his legs this time.
He takes in Yussa's bared bronze skin with bright-eyed hunger. They were so rushed before; now he slides his hands slowly and appreciatively up along Yussa's thighs, thumbs dipping in to trace his hip bones, then his waist. His eyes flicker up at the following request, and his lips curl subtly. He can do that, but...
Yussa finishes unbuttoning his shirt and leaves it open, exposing the binder beneath. It might be more of a bandeau if not for the structure it has. He relaxes again, thighs spreading easily as Caleb's warm hands slide over his legs and hips. He lifts a brow at the younger man's hesitation, but he makes a very good point. Yussa tips his head and a smile flickers across his mouth.
"Put it back on after you remove your shirt," he says at last. Caleb can always take it off later if the leather chafes or anything like that, but Yussa sees no reason not to enjoy the aesthetic and utility if Caleb is offering it.
He shifts his hips, absently getting more comfortable. He's still wet - the quick trip from the club has done nothing to quell his arousal and, if anything, has given him time to recover.
Caleb feels salvia flood his mouth as his eyes rake over Yussa, taking him in for the first time with the kind of time and attention he deserves. Desire is plain on his face watching even the subtle movement of his hips as he relaxes. Between his legs, his sex is temptingly flushed and glistening with arousal, and Caleb knows he would find his folds hot and tender to the touch. He hasn't gotten to yet--not with his fingers; just his tongue, his lips--but he knows.
Distractedly, Caleb gives a low hum, understanding and agreement, and leans down to kiss the newly exposed skin between Yussa's collarbone and the top of his binder. His hands sweep back down to the crux of his hips, where the rough pad of a thumb dips down to drag lightly over his beautifully swollen clit. His breath hitches.
Stay on task. Yussa has asked him to undress, and he hasn't done it yet. Tearing his gaze away, he mutters an apology in Zemnian and makes himself sit up, knelt where he is across Yussa's knees, and shrug the harness from his shoulders. It is the work of only a few moments to pull his shirt up over his head and discard it by the side of the couch, then pull the harness back on to hopefully add some interest to his skinny frame and distract a little from the latticework of scars covering his forearms. He has never worn it directly against his skin before, but the leather is treated well and worn enough not to scratch.
His pants are another matter. For one, he is still wearing his boots. With a soft grunt and a somewhat reluctant look, he makes himself stand and unlace his boots, taking much less care with their removal than he had with Yussa's. As soon as they're loose enough, he toes them off, and sets them to the side where they won't continue to track dirt onto the rug.
After that, he finally moves to his jeans. Popping open the button and dragging the fly down feels almost orgasmic itself (he gasps, soft but audible), as restrictive as the denim has been around long sustained and long ignored erection. He dares a glance up at Yussa again as he does this and finds he can't look away. Pushing his jeans down his slim hips is a further release of pressure, the hard line of his cock barely hidden by the thin grey cotton of his smalls. At the head, the fabric is darker and clinging, clearly damp.
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He can feel cool tile through his jeans, but it doesn't matter where he is. What matters is Yussa's warm brown skin under his lips as he mouths from his hip to the waist of his pants, where his clever fingers are already working the button open and pulling down the zipper. He wants to taste this man. He wants to lose himself in giving him pleasure and think of nothing else.
Intelligent and observant as he is, Yussa's allusions during conversation and current evidence are more than enough information for Caleb to draw the correct conclusion. There is no surprise and certainly no disappointment when he slides the elf's pants down his thighs and finds his smalls damp. He doesn't hesitate to press his mouth there with a low moan, feeling the heat of his cunt as his tongue wets the fabric still more.
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His free hand presses against the wall behind Caleb for balance. Yussa makes himself relax, releasing that tight hold on the other man's hair though he offers no apology. He'll be more careful, but gods he wants to encourage this. It's been too long since he's had this.
"Come on," he urges, voice tighter than he'd like it to be.
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He needs no further encouragement to get to his task. Single-minded and eager, Caleb's fingers hook into his smalls and draw them down his thighs as well. Finally he puts his mouth exactly where it belongs. His hands clutch at Yussa's hips and his tongue parts his folds in a firm lick, curling as it reaches his clit to roll over it again and again.
The taste of him, the scent of his arousal, and the silky, blood-hot sensitive skin under his mouth--this is everything Caleb wanted. He barely hears the music from the club filtering into the bathroom, but he is hyper-aware of every sound Yussa makes, every twitch of muscle--every demand, voiced or not.
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Yussa must admit to himself that part of the appeal of this is just how pliant Caleb is as he offers himself, his mouth, for use. The temptation to take advantage of the position is almost overwhelming and Yussa tries to refrain--for now. He wants to see what Caleb is capable of without his insistent intervention.
He leans into the hand he has braced against the wall and he allows himself to moan, just loud enough to be heard in the space they share.
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His eyes slip open as he gives an eager suck, attentive and striking blue. Caleb gazes up at the lovely elven man leaning over him and finds he is inevitably enthralled by his eyes in turn. Gold. He'd noticed that stunning feature right away. There is so much more about this man he wants to discover, to know. Perhaps if he proves himself now, he'll be allowed.
The hand cupping the back of his head ensures he stays right where he is, which is just how he likes it. Beyond his obvious physical beauty, the air of effortless authority Yussa possesses is a large part of what he'd found so immediately attractive about him. Caleb is harder than he's been in months just from this, from being used, from being useful to such a man.
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"That's it," he encourages, because such work deserves some praise. Ridiculously, he's excited by the prickle of the other man's beard against his most sensitive places.
He finds he wants very much to get a leg between Caleb's, to feel the press of his hard cock against his boot. But given that his smalls and his trousers are only just down around his thighs, he'll have to save that thought. The last thing he wants is to compromise his balance or change Caleb's position when he is so thoroughly enjoying himself. With a little smirk, his free hand makes a vague gesture and Yussa whispers something that's lost beneath the bass thudding through the walls. But he has a piece of copper wire wrapped around his finger, and a few seconds later Caleb can hear his voice in his ear.
"You look like you belong right where you are," he purrs, managing to sound less breathless than he feels. "Do you want me to come on your face, Caleb?"
Seems polite to ask. Given the sheer skill and enthusiasm of Caleb's mouth, it's going to happen soon. Yussa can feel it building.
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But gods, of course he wants that. Nothing would be more satisfying.
His tongue pulls back to lick Yussa's slick from his lips, and he murmurs a single word for the spell to carry to the other arcanist's ear.
"Please."
He could beg more prettily, but something tells him that Yussa will appreciate his work more than his words. He licks into his cunt like his starving for it. His hands slide from his hips down to his thighs and his tongue presses as deep inside him as he can make it reach. The sensation, all tight velvety heat, draws another helpless moan from Caleb's throat. Reflexive, his hips gives a sharp little rock into empty air, but Caleb hasn't even bothered to open his pants, let alone touch himself. His hands have been on Yussa all this time, squeezing gently and rubbing appreciatively over his soft skin.
While his arousal is persistent and aching, Caleb has deliberately not acknowledged it. In this encounter, it is Yussa's pleasure he finds most gratifying. He wants to dedicate himself fully to that. The needs of his own body are present, enjoyable as background noise, but unimportant.
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It doesn't matter: the effect is the same.
Yussa moans sharply the next time Caleb's lips and tongue find his clit and he shivers hard over the younger man. His hips move rhythmically as he chases his pleasure. It builds to a sharp, delicious crescendo and he presses harder than he means to against the back of Caleb's head as his orgasm snaps through him. Seconds later, his hand goes lax in Caleb's hair, barely holding on at all as he's wracked with pleasure.
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Though it is everything he's been working toward, it almost feels as though Yussa's orgasm happens too soon. Caleb would gladly gladly do this for twice as long--an hour, the rest of the night. But he may be in luck; one thing he's always envied about people with this arrangement of anatomy is their ability to come again and again without the kind of rest in between rounds that he needs. If Yussa is at all interested, Caleb will make him come as many times as he wants to tonight.
Still, the adrenaline-fueled excitement and pure satisfaction that sink through him when Yussa presses hard against him at the moment of his peak is second to nothing. A soft, eager whine lingers in the back of Caleb's throat as his lover's grip goes slack. He keeps the brush of lips and tongue gentle as he works him through it, taking a firm grip on his thighs to make sure Yussa stays on his feet.
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He doesn't move otherwise, save to press his other hand against the wall behind Caleb. He pants for breath, eyes nearly closed as he relishes the pleasure still rolling through him. He stays like that, possibly for too long considering it keeps Caleb on his knees. But, after another moment, Yussa eases back to lean against the opposite wall - thankfully not very far in the small stall - so that Caleb can at least get up without knocking him over.
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Caleb's hands gently release Yussa's hips and fall to his own lap. Finally, with a sharp breath, he takes hold of his own cock through his jeans, but he is simply adjusting himself so that his erection isn't quite so obvious. When Yussa moves, he pushes himself to his feet without a word about it, wincing only as his knees complain.
Though he once again towers over the smaller man, Caleb's shoulders hunch inward in a way that makes him seem to take up a little less space. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, leaving a wet smear over his skin and making very little impact on the glistening mess covering his lips and chin.
"Thank you," he says, soft and a little hoarse, and means it.
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The hoarse quality to Caleb's voice earns a faint smirk. He considers the young man in front of him - including the obvious bulge in his pants, despite his attempts to make it less apparent - and he considers his options.
Maybe it's reckless to invite a stranger into his home, but Yussa is certain he can manage should Caleb turn out to be anything but what he appears.
"Care to join me somewhere more comfortable?"
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He shifts just a little under Yussa's scrutiny, nervous despite giving what seems to have been a fairly stellar performance. His posture gets even worse, knowing that he's being evaluated, and he has to keep his hands from rubbing at his forearms through his long-sleeved shirt. Though it feels like the seconds drag by, in truth it is only a handful before Yussa apparently judges him worthy of further attention.
"Ja," he answers quickly, clearly relieved. "I would like that. Anywhere that will be easier on my knees is good." He smiles at his own joke, and though Yussa is a good deal shorter, Caleb still manages to look at him through his lashes, a little bashful now that their momentum has slowed.
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Seconds later, with a rush of arcane energy, they appear in a dim sitting room with a large, very comfortable-looking sectional. Yussa can't help but feel a bit pleased with himself - possibly bolstered by the wine he'd been enjoying not long before they disappeared into the bathroom together.
"Better?" he inquires, voice soft and warm. Even in the dim light, the large windows are unmistakable. Rather than showing the night lights and skyline of Rexxentrum, however, they show a dark sky filled with stars. Yussa draws back, slowly backing up until he can sit on the edge of the chaise part of the couch.
"Would you like more light?"
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They appear in a beautiful space, one Caleb can only assume to be Yussa's home. It certainly suits him. But even as he takes in the windows, the greenery, the comfortable and elegant furniture, he is marveling at the wizard backing away to settle on the couch.
His confident, casual spellcasting had indicated to Caleb that he was an experienced practitioner; only someone with years of practice and familiarity with the arcane casts the way that Yussa does, even with cantrips. But now he knows for certain that he is powerful. An effortless casting of Teleport is no small feat. How does Yussa just keep getting more attractive?
"That was an impressive bit of spellwork," he says, hushed and a little awed, only registering that he's been asked a question a moment later. "Ah--yes, please." He is only human; his eyes aren't at all useful in the dark. "Being able to see you would be preferable."
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When Caleb requests more light, Yussa flicks a hand. The faint glow in the room - offered by lanterns throughout the room - becomes brighter but still allows for soft ambiance. It's certainly better lighting than the club bathroom, or even the bar.
"There." Yussa takes a moment to get a better look at Caleb. He keeps his gaze on the other man as he leans down to get his boots off. "Won't you join me?"
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When Yussa waves the lights on--or brighter, at least--Caleb blinks to adjust. The glow is soft, atmospheric, but enough to see by. The room is still more beautiful properly illuminated. As is Yussa.
"Of course," he agrees, a little breathless. Gods, the lighting at the bar had not done Yussa justice. His skin is not only a lovely rich brown, but the undertone is warm and golden. The fine lines around his eyes and other subtle markers of age in his face only serve to make him more handsome. And his eyes--the way they reflect the light makes them look molten. Caleb can't join him fast enough.
Still ignoring the bulge of his erection, which has barely flagged at all in the last several minutes, Caleb hopes he is interpreting the invitation correctly when he lowers himself to the floor in front of Yussa and reaches for his boots to take over removing them.
Yussa will be able to get a very good look at Caleb like this; his blue eyes, his flushed and freckled skin, his long red hair half tied back, but discheveled from Yussa sinking his hand into it. His long-sleeved henley, dark jeans, and boots are simple, and the shirt in particular is slightly too big on his slim frame. The top two buttons are undone, showing a hint of collarbone. What really stands out about his attire, though, is his book harness--absent his books tonight, per Beauregard's recommendation. The dark brown leather straps with their bronze buckles, clearly well used and well cared for, cross over his body in a way that flatters his proportions, accentuating the span of his shoulders in contrast to the taper of his waist.
The beautiful rug he is kneeling on beside the couch is a great improvement on thr bathroom floor, and he can't help noting as much with amusement. "My knees are feeling better already," he quips, eyes bright as he glances up.
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And he can't help but notice the familiar lines of a book harness. He runs his fingers over the worn but strong leather, appreciating how it feels and how it looks. He has a better idea of Caleb's shape now, and he decides he's invested in seeing him completely, if they can get that far. It isn't' that Caleb strikes him as skittish, or even that he sees any hesitance - none, judging by that performance in the bathroom - but the setting is different now. The chemistry hasn't changed, but the urgency has died down. Well, his urgency has.
He slips his fingers beneath a strap on the harness, and he relinquishes the pressure on Caleb's cock when he feels the other man's hands on his ankle. He'll have to play nice for a few seconds if he wants his boots off completely, so he does. But he doesn't let go of the harness.
"I should hope so," he says lightly, a smile playing on his mouth. "I won't even make you stay there all night."
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Luckily he manages to finish his work before he can do anything as mortifying as grinding against the sole of Yussa's boot--though it is tempting. The pressure is released, to both his relief and dismay, and he concentrates on the leather under his hands rather than the aching throb of his cock. Quickly enough he eases the second boot off as well, stroking his thumb along the high arch of Yussa's foot as he does.
Looking up again and catching sight of that smile makes his stomach flip in hopeful anticipation. "I would not complain if you did," he husks. "It is probably apparent by now, but I enjoy being...useful. Spending the night tending to your needs, whatever they may be, would make me very happy." The admission makes his face burn, but he doesn't hesitate to say it. He knows what he likes, and Yussa seems like he could take control of him in exactly the way he longs for as effortlessly as he cast Teleport.
They met at a kink club; he hopes this isn't too surprising. Would it be too much to hope that Yussa saw this in him and wanted him because of it?
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The admission isn't a surprise, but Yussa couldn't have anticipated just how well matched they are.
"Come here," he murmurs. He keeps his grip on the harness and eases back along the chaise, encouraging Caleb to join him there. And as soon as the younger man is close enough, Yussa's other hand slides boldly over the shape of his erection, still trapped behind his clothes. He offers a firm rub and finds he has to take a deep breath of his own. Caleb's voice is delicious, his cadence and accent deeply appealing. Yussa will not deny himself the chance to hear it more tonight.
He pulls on the harness again and leans up to kiss Caleb. Even after casting Prestidigitation, he can still catch a hint of his own taste on Caleb's lips and tongue. Yussa licks into the younger man's mouth, then breaks the kiss enough to speak.
"If you are going to tend to my needs, you'll have to undress me further."
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It is the perfect way to render him distracted and receptive for the kiss that follows, which steals his breath and immediately makes him want more. He'd be pleased for Yussa to spend the rest of the night kissing him like that. When his eyes slide open again, there is a moment where he both looks and feels slightly dazed as he gazes down at the other wizard.
"How much further?"
It seems pertinent to ask, even if he's already responsible for halfway removing Yussa's pants and smalls once tonight. He thinks he might have felt the edge of a binder under his shirt earlier, in retrospect. As much as he would love to undress Yussa entirely, he doesn't want to be the cause of any discomfort.
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His pulse has picked up again and he takes a steadying breath. Gods, it's unreasonable how much he wants this. Feeling Caleb's cock through his pants has fanned the flames of his desire and very suddenly and very sharply, Yussa wants more of him.
He keeps his gaze on Caleb as he starts to unbutton his blouse.
"You should undress as well. At least down to your smalls."
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He takes in Yussa's bared bronze skin with bright-eyed hunger. They were so rushed before; now he slides his hands slowly and appreciatively up along Yussa's thighs, thumbs dipping in to trace his hip bones, then his waist. His eyes flicker up at the following request, and his lips curl subtly. He can do that, but...
"You want me to take my harness off?"
It seems like such an object of fascination.
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"Put it back on after you remove your shirt," he says at last. Caleb can always take it off later if the leather chafes or anything like that, but Yussa sees no reason not to enjoy the aesthetic and utility if Caleb is offering it.
He shifts his hips, absently getting more comfortable. He's still wet - the quick trip from the club has done nothing to quell his arousal and, if anything, has given him time to recover.
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Distractedly, Caleb gives a low hum, understanding and agreement, and leans down to kiss the newly exposed skin between Yussa's collarbone and the top of his binder. His hands sweep back down to the crux of his hips, where the rough pad of a thumb dips down to drag lightly over his beautifully swollen clit. His breath hitches.
Stay on task. Yussa has asked him to undress, and he hasn't done it yet. Tearing his gaze away, he mutters an apology in Zemnian and makes himself sit up, knelt where he is across Yussa's knees, and shrug the harness from his shoulders. It is the work of only a few moments to pull his shirt up over his head and discard it by the side of the couch, then pull the harness back on to hopefully add some interest to his skinny frame and distract a little from the latticework of scars covering his forearms. He has never worn it directly against his skin before, but the leather is treated well and worn enough not to scratch.
His pants are another matter. For one, he is still wearing his boots. With a soft grunt and a somewhat reluctant look, he makes himself stand and unlace his boots, taking much less care with their removal than he had with Yussa's. As soon as they're loose enough, he toes them off, and sets them to the side where they won't continue to track dirt onto the rug.
After that, he finally moves to his jeans. Popping open the button and dragging the fly down feels almost orgasmic itself (he gasps, soft but audible), as restrictive as the denim has been around long sustained and long ignored erection. He dares a glance up at Yussa again as he does this and finds he can't look away. Pushing his jeans down his slim hips is a further release of pressure, the hard line of his cock barely hidden by the thin grey cotton of his smalls. At the head, the fabric is darker and clinging, clearly damp.
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