"Good," he sighs in answer. His other hand strokes through Caleb's hair as warm lips press against his chest. Yussa just breathes as the heaviness sets in, that delicious, languid feeling. He has no way of knowing how long it will last, but by the gods he will enjoy it while he can.

Yussa murmurs something in Elvish as he tips his head down to kiss the top of Caleb's. He repeats in Common: "Sweet boy."

With Caleb's fingers in him, he feels full as the ripples of his orgasm finally begin to fade. He strokes his hand up Caleb's arm and shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his skin and the wonderful... familiarity. The comfort of it.

He doesn't really want to break the moment, but he says, "There should be a pitcher of water and a few glasses... somewhere."