Yussa stretches his arms over his head, gripping at the blankets and leaving himself open to Caleb's gaze and his touch. He moans sharply as the younger man properly fucks him, driving as deep as he can on every thrust. He can feel the gentle press of lips against his calf and his ankle, almost incongruous with the way Caleb draws attention to where his body obscenely stretches to accept Caleb's cock.
He murmurs something in slurred Elvish, the latter half of it in Common: "--so deep, ah--"
His other leg presses tight against Caleb's side, trembling as he tries to meet every thrust. The pillow beneath his hips makes the younger man's angle of entry perfect. His cunt squeezes around him and the pleasure of being full makes Yussa feel ridiculously delirious.
Caleb is transfixed. Yussa gasps and trembles under him, his cunt fluttering, the sheets clenched in his hands. He is small, but stretched out with his arms overhead, his body is long and beautiful, all lovely angles slender lines and subtle curves. The half-intelligible words he slurs about how deep Caleb is inside him only fuels Caleb's desire to see him even more blissed out.
"So deep," he agrees, panting, with a full roll of his hips that buries his cock and drags a moan out of him. Gods, he feels incredible. "You look so perfect like this, Yussa." His thumb follows the edge of his stretched opening until he's rubbing his clit and resting his hand low over Yussa's smooth stomach. "I, ah--I love seeing you all spread out, taking me so well."
His own grasp on Common isn't the best at the moment either, his brain feels completely scrambled, but he wants to tell Yussa how beautiful he is badly enough to manage. But not for the first time tonight, he wishes he could speak Elvish. He has a feeling asking for a translation now might not get him the same results as it had earlier.
Yussa drops a hand to his own mouth, pressing the back of it to his hips in an attempt to hold back some of the more unrestrained sounds threatening to break from him. It's a fool's errand, but he tries anyway.
Caleb's accent is heavy and the way it affects the quality of his voice is terribly attractive. Yussa bites his index finger but still whines as Caleb's thumb strokes over his clit, offering steady and direct attention. He can feel the sweet tension coiling in him as he's pushed toward his peak. Caleb has been so diligent with him and there is really no denying where this is going. His thighs tremble as he arches toward Caleb's touch and his cock: every stroke makes his hips move to chase that perfect friction until muscles tremble with the effort.
A ragged moan escapes him as he struggles not to get completely swept up yet. Not when they have both been waiting for this. It's difficult to resist his own rising pleasure, though. The crest is as inevitable as any tide.
Caleb's hips meet the curve of Yussa's ass with a filthy slap of skin against skin made filthier by the wet sound of his cock slotting neatly into place inside him. The embrace of his cunt is just right now, where earlier when he'd slipped him that first finger he was much too tight. This took time. It was a process, deliberate. Yussa wanted to be spread open just so Caleb could be the key that fits him perfectly, that unlocks the pleasure in taut muscles forced to stretch, in throbbing, aching fullness.
Caleb moans with the landing of each slap, with the constant pulling pressure of Yussa clamped down around him like a vise. His thumb rubbing his clit fast and hard makes him clench and spasm around Caleb. It makes him moan from behind the protective barrier of his hand, around the finger between his teeth. It makes him push back agaisnt him, toward him, with all he has, wanting it so much he trembles.
"Gods, look at you," Caleb rumbles, breathing heavily, squeezing Yussa's thigh harder. "Don't stop, schatz, show me how you like it. I want to watch you come," he encourages shamelessly. "I want to feel you come around me."
Caleb angles up a little more in an effort to hit Yussa's sweet spot, hoping to hear his moans turn louder, needier, to reward his own burning muscles, the tension he carries along his spine and heavy between his thighs and his belly.
Not for the first time tonight, Yussa thinks he's made an excellent decision in finally talking to this young man. Caleb's sheer skill has made it worth it - unexpected given how shy he seemed until he was on his knees in a bathroom stall.
Gods, there's no resisting this. Yussa cries out and even with his teeth pressed against his finger, there's no quieting himself not really. Not with Caleb fucking him like that, adjusting him until the angle is just--it's so much. Every breath is edged with a moan and the steady stroke of Caleb's thumb and his cock - gods his cock - push him hard over the edge. His cunt flutters around the younger man, trying to milk him as Yussa comes.
The pleasure is perfect. He trembles beneath Caleb and he releases his finger before he truly hurts himself. He grabs for Caleb's arm instead, holding tight as the other man fucks him through it. Blunt, manicured nails dig against Caleb's arm and muscles tremble as that delicious feeling sweeps through him. His head falls back and his leg curls around the other man's back.
Wordless but far from soundless, Yussa quickly shakes apart under Caleb's attention, releasing his finger to take a desperate hold on his arm instead as he tightens around his cock, which feels impossibly good. His orgasm is no less beautiful for being the third time Caleb has seen it tonight. Watching him tremble, gasping for breath and flushed, Caleb feels another swell of pride at having caused it. His own climax is approaching like a runaway cart.
Considerate but firm with his own need, he guides the slim brown thigh he's been holding around his waist as well so he can lean over Yussa and kiss him. The press of his mouth is hard and artless. He is panting too much to deepen the kiss, or even for it to last long. His head is full of nothing but how gorgeous Yussa looks, how incredible he feels fluttering around him, how much he loves how well his smaller elven form fits under him. How fucking lucky he is to be in this position at all.
"Yussa, Yussa," he moans, gravel rough, and kisses him again, brief but heated. His hips stutter, pushing in with a needy grind rather than longer, measured thrusts. Gods, he wants to come. He's going to come. It's just a matter of how, and he's rapidly losing control over that, too.
He'll be sore tomorrow, there's no escaping that. Not when he's been stretched like this: he'll feel it in his thighs and low in his core, reminders of a night well spent.
Caleb's mouth collides into his with a hard, uncoordinated kiss. Yussa moans against his mouth, allowing Caleb to feel it as much as hear it. They don't stay like that for long, both panting too hard to make it last. Even as Yussa feels his strength fade, he tries to hold onto the man above him. His body wants so much to sink into the heaviness in his limbs. Not yet. He doesn't want Caleb to pull out and articulating that much has become difficult. Don't, he wants to whisper, but that's far too vague for proper instruction.
Yussa tries to be affirmative instead, panting "Yes-- yes!" until he loses the ability entirely. "Caleb--"
His legs tighten and his fingers leave half-moon circles where he grips too tightly.
Yussa clings to him with the conviction of a man who knows exactly what he wants. Encouraging gasps fall hot over his lips, his legs wrap tight around his waist, and Caleb can feel the sharp pain of short, blunt nails digging into his back. Caleb's rhythm stumbles and he chokes on his breath. He should pull out, because even if Yussa has urged him to fuck his come into him once already, they still haven't talked about this. But the opportunity to do so is dwindling as quickly as his desire to follow through. Gods, fuck, affirmation is good enough for him. Yussa obviously has made up his mind, and he is telling Caleb with every enthusiastic moan and tremor of muscle in his legs, his arms, his core.
Caleb rolls his hips and fucks with a renewed certainty deep into his sweet wet heat. Even if he wanted to pull out, he would have to break Yussa's determined embrace around him. He isn't going to do that. His brow rests against Yussa's, their breath mingles, lips sliding together and apart in not quite kisses. He loses himself in the pleasure of soft walls clenching around his cock, Yussa's tight, perfect cunt trying to milk his orgasm out of him. He's hardly aware of the mumbled words spilling from him in a stream-of-consciousness combination of Common and Zemnian.
"Yussa, gods, you feel so good coming on my cock, I love making you feel good--fuck, you really want me to come inside, don't you? I am so close for you schatz, I'll fill you up like you want, you are so perfect--oh fuck--"
He pushes urgently into Yussa once, twice more before a cry tears from his chest and he lets go, spilling deep inside his lover's warm, welcoming body. Moaning softly, Caleb thrusts shallowly through his release, pressing fervid kisses up the side of Yussa's neck and along the ridge of his long, pointed ear.
Yussa can't articulate his full approval, but he's quite sure it's clear enough as Caleb pursues his own pleasure. His thighs tense and his entire body shivers when he feels Caleb come like that, pushed deep in him and fucking him through it while offering breathless adoration and affection. Caleb's breath is hot against his neck and his ear, his teeth and lops and tongue sending chills racing through him. It's overwhelming, but not yet too much. It's perfect.
He allows himself to go weak after that, finally succumbing to the consuming, delicious feeling of post-orgasmic heaviness in his limbs. Yussa slumps to the bed, weakly holding on to Caleb as he pants for air. His white hair sticks to his damp brow and Yussa lays stretched out beneath the younger man in utter contentment. His golden eyes remain closed for a while and a secretive smile plays across his mouth when he recovers enough to be that expressive.
It's a while longer before he can lift a hand again to stroke over Caleb's bearded cheek.
"Good boy," he coos, managing to sound more pulled together than he feels.
With the subtle tremor of Yussa's body, Caleb feels another wave of come issue into his heat, nearing the end of the thick, slow intensity of his orgasm. His hips rock down one last time as he presses a kiss to the tip of his ear and hilts inside him, and there he stays.
He feels the tension drain from the other man, and while Caleb is able to greedily gulp in air by the lungfull in an attempt to gain control of himself, he can't relax so completely. He has to keep himself braced against the bed so he won't simply collapse on top of him. But it is a small price to pay for the position he's found himself in. It feels like his veins flow with honey, warm and slow and sweet, and his head is stuffed with fine silk, cushioning his mind and letting him linger in this moment, pleasantly heavy and utterly fulfilled.
His lips brush the damp hair from Yussa's forehead. Then he is leaning into a gentle touch to his cheek, nuzzling into an elegant palm and pressing a bristly kiss to the inside of a delicate wrist. Yussa will be able to feel the way his breath stutters against his skin as his stomach gives a giddy little flip. He's figured out so quickly what he reacts to. Another kiss follows the first quickly, this one against the heel of his palm.
He doesn't think about getting up yet. He doesn't think about leaving before Yussa can ask him to go. He doesn't think about finding his clothes downstairs and putting them back on and making a solitary walk through the quiet streets of the Tangles back to his shitty apartment.
No, of course he thinks about it. He has to. But he can delay for a little longer, when each moment dragging into the next still brims with the kind of compelling intimacy that makes him never want to leave this bed.
"For you, ja," he rumbles. His hips lift to drag his cock slowly, reluctantly, from the divine grip of the elven wizard's cunt.
He's appreciative that Caleb doesn't just collapse on him. The young man's tender kisses are endearing as they brush his hair and his cheek, his wrist and his palm. Yussa isn't of a mind to move at all, but eventually Caleb does pull out. That earns a soft whine, but no real protest. He relaxes back, feeling utterly empty after all the effort made to work him open.
He's quite sure he's a mess of both of them, and when he shifts he can feel some of Caleb's come spill out of him. Yussa can't even muster the somatics for Prestidigitation, so he'll have to take care of that later, when he can feel his legs again. He lolls his head to look at Caleb, golden eyes warm and soft and full of contentment as he looks over the younger man.
As he looks away again, a brighter smile lights his face, the sort that comes with utter relaxation and (several) very good orgasms. Yussa's pulse has finally slowed, though he's still catching his breath.
Caleb hums, positive but non-comittal. Perhaps not only, but this is rare. This sort of submission comes naturally to him, but it is something he must guard closely, something he cannot entrust to just anyone. Tonight Yussa has wielded the power Caleb willingly handed him not only respectfully and enjoyably, but expertly. So well that Caleb would be willing to offer him even more. Finding this, finding Yussa, feels like a one-in-a-million chance.
"I wanted to tend to your needs," he says, echoing his own earlier words, low, quiet, and warm. "But you are an incredible man. I could not help wanting to be good for you. To give you everything you might desire."
He's rolled his still unsteady limbs less than gracefully onto the bed, laying on his side close enough to Yussa that their legs still tangle and he can easily lean over him to capture his lips in a lazy kiss, unable to resist the pull of that beautiful, relaxed grin. Yussa is radiant like this, soft and loose and well-fucked and happy, content to be dripping Caleb's come onto the bedsheets. He did that. He did that. The pleasure and relief and momentary peace of mind that brings him is absolutely priceless.
Caleb's hair, slightly mussed again, sticks to his skin too, flushed and hot, but gradually cooling. His muscles are going to be sore tomorrow, but he likes that. It will be like carrying this night with him, lingering in this warm feeling a little longer.
When his lips leave Yussa's and he collapses against the bed again, he smiles, wide and honest.
Yussa rolls onto his side to follow after Caleb and to get off of the pillow he's been laying on. He leans into the kiss, unhurried and relaxed as the younger man continues to offer him sweet affection.
"You've tended me well. I haven't felt this good in years."
For the first time since he's taken this position, Yussa's mind feels entirely quiet and his body is certainly exhausted - he may actually sleep tonight rather than trance. He lays there at Caleb's side for a while longer, eyes closed as his breathing finally grows more even. He knows that he should clean up before he passes out, and eventually he makes himself sit up. He presses a kiss to Caleb's shoulder in passing and runs his hand over the other man's arm before he slips from the bed.
Small, slender, and just a bit unsteady for the first few steps, Yussa uses the bedpost for balance before he plucks up a thin robe that does very little to obscure his shape once it's on. He's used magic to clean up so many times tonight that it feels only right to use water now. He doesn't have the energy for a full shower, but a damp cloth will do.
He catches himself in the mirror and he turns his head this way and that, as if a good fuck has made him look as well as feel younger. He rinses the cloth with hot water and returns to the bedroom. He drapes the warm, wet cloth over Caleb's stomach and plucks up a cup of cold tea from his nightstand for a sip.
That Caleb is beginning to feel like he might fall asleep is a strong indicator that he should get up and get going right now. He can't stop thinking about I haven't felt this good in years and probably won't for at least the next month. But all good things must come to an end, and he forces himself to start getting ready to go as soon as Yussa leaves the bed, parting from him with the casual affection Caleb's been enjoying so much.
Eyes slipping open, Caleb watches him cross the room. He's so lovely, and if Caleb were not so exhausted already, he knows he would find the shape of his petite body in that slip of a robe a major turn on; as it is, he is mostly very endeared by how unsteady he is on his feet.
"Danke," Caleb mutters when he returns, picking up the warm, damp towel from his stomach to give himself a rudimentary wipe down that will tide him over until he can get in the shower at home. Sitting up, then forcing himself to stand, he finds his discarded smalls on the floor by the bed and steps back into them. The rest of his clothing is downstairs scattered around the couch.
Well, now is the time. That Yussa is drinking clearly hours old tea makes his lips twitch fondly, and it is with that lingering warmth that he says, "Thank you for tonight. I should get home, but I...I really cannot say how much I have enjoyed myself. It would be embarrassing if I tried." His eyes are filled with gentle humor. Yussa's positive assessment of him makes him daring enough to step close and lean down to kiss his cheek as a warm palm covers his hip. The fabric of his robe feels like water, smooth and cool.
But most daring of all is when he draws back and wonders tentatively, "May I, ah...Would it be okay if I left my phone number with you?" His brow furrows slightly and a little heat returns to his face.
It isn't often that Caleb deliberately puts himself in a position to be rejected outright rather than just tacitly, but this is worth the risk. If Yussa would prefer this to be a one time thing, that is perfectly fine. But Caleb is already a little desperate to see him again, and he must make that interest clear for there to be any chance of it happening.
Yussa does not try to stop Caleb leaving, but he does tip his head into the kiss as the other man's lips brush his cheek.
"I would like it if you did," he says warmly. "I should like to feel this good again."
He reaches up with his free hand to gently catch Caleb's chin, holding him still for a proper kiss, the taste of sweet spices lingering on his lips. His thumb brushes over Caleb's beard before he lets go again. He does feel briefly guilty that he's sending Caleb back downstairs in only his smalls, but. He'll at least enjoy the view as he leaves.
"Good night, Caleb."
He could escort Caleb down, but he's worn out and if he goes down, he may not come back up, and he would prefer not to sleep on the couch in his own house. Still, he lingers by the edge of his bed until the young man is gone, then sighs and sinks onto it. Gods, he doesn't suspect he will regret this but he will certainly feel it in the morning.
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He murmurs something in slurred Elvish, the latter half of it in Common: "--so deep, ah--"
His other leg presses tight against Caleb's side, trembling as he tries to meet every thrust. The pillow beneath his hips makes the younger man's angle of entry perfect. His cunt squeezes around him and the pleasure of being full makes Yussa feel ridiculously delirious.
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"So deep," he agrees, panting, with a full roll of his hips that buries his cock and drags a moan out of him. Gods, he feels incredible. "You look so perfect like this, Yussa." His thumb follows the edge of his stretched opening until he's rubbing his clit and resting his hand low over Yussa's smooth stomach. "I, ah--I love seeing you all spread out, taking me so well."
His own grasp on Common isn't the best at the moment either, his brain feels completely scrambled, but he wants to tell Yussa how beautiful he is badly enough to manage. But not for the first time tonight, he wishes he could speak Elvish. He has a feeling asking for a translation now might not get him the same results as it had earlier.
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Caleb's accent is heavy and the way it affects the quality of his voice is terribly attractive. Yussa bites his index finger but still whines as Caleb's thumb strokes over his clit, offering steady and direct attention. He can feel the sweet tension coiling in him as he's pushed toward his peak. Caleb has been so diligent with him and there is really no denying where this is going. His thighs tremble as he arches toward Caleb's touch and his cock: every stroke makes his hips move to chase that perfect friction until muscles tremble with the effort.
A ragged moan escapes him as he struggles not to get completely swept up yet. Not when they have both been waiting for this. It's difficult to resist his own rising pleasure, though. The crest is as inevitable as any tide.
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Caleb moans with the landing of each slap, with the constant pulling pressure of Yussa clamped down around him like a vise. His thumb rubbing his clit fast and hard makes him clench and spasm around Caleb. It makes him moan from behind the protective barrier of his hand, around the finger between his teeth. It makes him push back agaisnt him, toward him, with all he has, wanting it so much he trembles.
"Gods, look at you," Caleb rumbles, breathing heavily, squeezing Yussa's thigh harder. "Don't stop, schatz, show me how you like it. I want to watch you come," he encourages shamelessly. "I want to feel you come around me."
Caleb angles up a little more in an effort to hit Yussa's sweet spot, hoping to hear his moans turn louder, needier, to reward his own burning muscles, the tension he carries along his spine and heavy between his thighs and his belly.
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Gods, there's no resisting this. Yussa cries out and even with his teeth pressed against his finger, there's no quieting himself not really. Not with Caleb fucking him like that, adjusting him until the angle is just--it's so much. Every breath is edged with a moan and the steady stroke of Caleb's thumb and his cock - gods his cock - push him hard over the edge. His cunt flutters around the younger man, trying to milk him as Yussa comes.
The pleasure is perfect. He trembles beneath Caleb and he releases his finger before he truly hurts himself. He grabs for Caleb's arm instead, holding tight as the other man fucks him through it. Blunt, manicured nails dig against Caleb's arm and muscles tremble as that delicious feeling sweeps through him. His head falls back and his leg curls around the other man's back.
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Considerate but firm with his own need, he guides the slim brown thigh he's been holding around his waist as well so he can lean over Yussa and kiss him. The press of his mouth is hard and artless. He is panting too much to deepen the kiss, or even for it to last long. His head is full of nothing but how gorgeous Yussa looks, how incredible he feels fluttering around him, how much he loves how well his smaller elven form fits under him. How fucking lucky he is to be in this position at all.
"Yussa, Yussa," he moans, gravel rough, and kisses him again, brief but heated. His hips stutter, pushing in with a needy grind rather than longer, measured thrusts. Gods, he wants to come. He's going to come. It's just a matter of how, and he's rapidly losing control over that, too.
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Caleb's mouth collides into his with a hard, uncoordinated kiss. Yussa moans against his mouth, allowing Caleb to feel it as much as hear it. They don't stay like that for long, both panting too hard to make it last. Even as Yussa feels his strength fade, he tries to hold onto the man above him. His body wants so much to sink into the heaviness in his limbs. Not yet. He doesn't want Caleb to pull out and articulating that much has become difficult. Don't, he wants to whisper, but that's far too vague for proper instruction.
Yussa tries to be affirmative instead, panting "Yes-- yes!" until he loses the ability entirely. "Caleb--"
His legs tighten and his fingers leave half-moon circles where he grips too tightly.
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Caleb rolls his hips and fucks with a renewed certainty deep into his sweet wet heat. Even if he wanted to pull out, he would have to break Yussa's determined embrace around him. He isn't going to do that. His brow rests against Yussa's, their breath mingles, lips sliding together and apart in not quite kisses. He loses himself in the pleasure of soft walls clenching around his cock, Yussa's tight, perfect cunt trying to milk his orgasm out of him. He's hardly aware of the mumbled words spilling from him in a stream-of-consciousness combination of Common and Zemnian.
"Yussa, gods, you feel so good coming on my cock, I love making you feel good--fuck, you really want me to come inside, don't you? I am so close for you schatz, I'll fill you up like you want, you are so perfect--oh fuck--"
He pushes urgently into Yussa once, twice more before a cry tears from his chest and he lets go, spilling deep inside his lover's warm, welcoming body. Moaning softly, Caleb thrusts shallowly through his release, pressing fervid kisses up the side of Yussa's neck and along the ridge of his long, pointed ear.
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He allows himself to go weak after that, finally succumbing to the consuming, delicious feeling of post-orgasmic heaviness in his limbs. Yussa slumps to the bed, weakly holding on to Caleb as he pants for air. His white hair sticks to his damp brow and Yussa lays stretched out beneath the younger man in utter contentment. His golden eyes remain closed for a while and a secretive smile plays across his mouth when he recovers enough to be that expressive.
It's a while longer before he can lift a hand again to stroke over Caleb's bearded cheek.
"Good boy," he coos, managing to sound more pulled together than he feels.
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He feels the tension drain from the other man, and while Caleb is able to greedily gulp in air by the lungfull in an attempt to gain control of himself, he can't relax so completely. He has to keep himself braced against the bed so he won't simply collapse on top of him. But it is a small price to pay for the position he's found himself in. It feels like his veins flow with honey, warm and slow and sweet, and his head is stuffed with fine silk, cushioning his mind and letting him linger in this moment, pleasantly heavy and utterly fulfilled.
His lips brush the damp hair from Yussa's forehead. Then he is leaning into a gentle touch to his cheek, nuzzling into an elegant palm and pressing a bristly kiss to the inside of a delicate wrist. Yussa will be able to feel the way his breath stutters against his skin as his stomach gives a giddy little flip. He's figured out so quickly what he reacts to. Another kiss follows the first quickly, this one against the heel of his palm.
He doesn't think about getting up yet. He doesn't think about leaving before Yussa can ask him to go. He doesn't think about finding his clothes downstairs and putting them back on and making a solitary walk through the quiet streets of the Tangles back to his shitty apartment.
No, of course he thinks about it. He has to. But he can delay for a little longer, when each moment dragging into the next still brims with the kind of compelling intimacy that makes him never want to leave this bed.
"For you, ja," he rumbles. His hips lift to drag his cock slowly, reluctantly, from the divine grip of the elven wizard's cunt.
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He's appreciative that Caleb doesn't just collapse on him. The young man's tender kisses are endearing as they brush his hair and his cheek, his wrist and his palm. Yussa isn't of a mind to move at all, but eventually Caleb does pull out. That earns a soft whine, but no real protest. He relaxes back, feeling utterly empty after all the effort made to work him open.
He's quite sure he's a mess of both of them, and when he shifts he can feel some of Caleb's come spill out of him. Yussa can't even muster the somatics for Prestidigitation, so he'll have to take care of that later, when he can feel his legs again. He lolls his head to look at Caleb, golden eyes warm and soft and full of contentment as he looks over the younger man.
As he looks away again, a brighter smile lights his face, the sort that comes with utter relaxation and (several) very good orgasms. Yussa's pulse has finally slowed, though he's still catching his breath.
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"I wanted to tend to your needs," he says, echoing his own earlier words, low, quiet, and warm. "But you are an incredible man. I could not help wanting to be good for you. To give you everything you might desire."
He's rolled his still unsteady limbs less than gracefully onto the bed, laying on his side close enough to Yussa that their legs still tangle and he can easily lean over him to capture his lips in a lazy kiss, unable to resist the pull of that beautiful, relaxed grin. Yussa is radiant like this, soft and loose and well-fucked and happy, content to be dripping Caleb's come onto the bedsheets. He did that. He did that. The pleasure and relief and momentary peace of mind that brings him is absolutely priceless.
Caleb's hair, slightly mussed again, sticks to his skin too, flushed and hot, but gradually cooling. His muscles are going to be sore tomorrow, but he likes that. It will be like carrying this night with him, lingering in this warm feeling a little longer.
When his lips leave Yussa's and he collapses against the bed again, he smiles, wide and honest.
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"You've tended me well. I haven't felt this good in years."
For the first time since he's taken this position, Yussa's mind feels entirely quiet and his body is certainly exhausted - he may actually sleep tonight rather than trance. He lays there at Caleb's side for a while longer, eyes closed as his breathing finally grows more even. He knows that he should clean up before he passes out, and eventually he makes himself sit up. He presses a kiss to Caleb's shoulder in passing and runs his hand over the other man's arm before he slips from the bed.
Small, slender, and just a bit unsteady for the first few steps, Yussa uses the bedpost for balance before he plucks up a thin robe that does very little to obscure his shape once it's on. He's used magic to clean up so many times tonight that it feels only right to use water now. He doesn't have the energy for a full shower, but a damp cloth will do.
He catches himself in the mirror and he turns his head this way and that, as if a good fuck has made him look as well as feel younger. He rinses the cloth with hot water and returns to the bedroom. He drapes the warm, wet cloth over Caleb's stomach and plucks up a cup of cold tea from his nightstand for a sip.
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Eyes slipping open, Caleb watches him cross the room. He's so lovely, and if Caleb were not so exhausted already, he knows he would find the shape of his petite body in that slip of a robe a major turn on; as it is, he is mostly very endeared by how unsteady he is on his feet.
"Danke," Caleb mutters when he returns, picking up the warm, damp towel from his stomach to give himself a rudimentary wipe down that will tide him over until he can get in the shower at home. Sitting up, then forcing himself to stand, he finds his discarded smalls on the floor by the bed and steps back into them. The rest of his clothing is downstairs scattered around the couch.
Well, now is the time. That Yussa is drinking clearly hours old tea makes his lips twitch fondly, and it is with that lingering warmth that he says, "Thank you for tonight. I should get home, but I...I really cannot say how much I have enjoyed myself. It would be embarrassing if I tried." His eyes are filled with gentle humor. Yussa's positive assessment of him makes him daring enough to step close and lean down to kiss his cheek as a warm palm covers his hip. The fabric of his robe feels like water, smooth and cool.
But most daring of all is when he draws back and wonders tentatively, "May I, ah...Would it be okay if I left my phone number with you?" His brow furrows slightly and a little heat returns to his face.
It isn't often that Caleb deliberately puts himself in a position to be rejected outright rather than just tacitly, but this is worth the risk. If Yussa would prefer this to be a one time thing, that is perfectly fine. But Caleb is already a little desperate to see him again, and he must make that interest clear for there to be any chance of it happening.
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"I would like it if you did," he says warmly. "I should like to feel this good again."
He reaches up with his free hand to gently catch Caleb's chin, holding him still for a proper kiss, the taste of sweet spices lingering on his lips. His thumb brushes over Caleb's beard before he lets go again. He does feel briefly guilty that he's sending Caleb back downstairs in only his smalls, but. He'll at least enjoy the view as he leaves.
"Good night, Caleb."
He could escort Caleb down, but he's worn out and if he goes down, he may not come back up, and he would prefer not to sleep on the couch in his own house. Still, he lingers by the edge of his bed until the young man is gone, then sighs and sinks onto it. Gods, he doesn't suspect he will regret this but he will certainly feel it in the morning.