There is a some nonsense, but Caleb rarely does anything entirely without a pattern, even subconsciously. There are some recognizable glyphs and symbols being traced over Yussa's skin, and even a few that might be glyphs, but which only exist in Caleb's head for now--ideas for the future, his mind always brimming with arcane possibility. His touch falters for only a splitsecond as Yussa's hand smooths over his forearm, knowing that he is feeling the familiar design of raised scar tissue. But the pause is barely noticeable, except maybe by the brief stutter of his breath that comes with it.

If he's going to have lovers--a lover, even--he's going to have to suppress this aversion to being touched in what is for most people a completely innocuous place. There is no reason for this kind of embarrassment when Yussa has seen his scars many times over already. Felt them, too, in passing like this. It's fine.

"Then I am glad that we could collaborate on this experiment," he says aloud, putting himself back in this room, in this moment. Yussa's pointed assurance and the warm weight of his gaze pinning him down does a lot to that end. He's comfortable and content, and still excited and intrigued by what they've just shared. "Though it was a different experience for me also, I am very pleased with the results." His hips dip forward in a gentle rock, just enough to grind his cock through the slick mess he'd left inside him, as though either of them need reminding of how Caleb had brazenly enjoyed himself.

While Yussa is facing him, he leans down for a brief kiss, glad for the opportunity to feel a response this time.