Yussa arches his back as Caleb's thumb rubs against his stretched hole, as if to ensure he cannot forget how the other man fills him. The tone of his voice makes Yussa ache, the triumph and disbelief all at once, as if he is making Yussa enjoy this act. He is, of course. But hearing Caleb acknowledge it sends an unexpected shiver through him. Yussa can't stop the helpless sound that escapes him when Caleb thrusts into him, slow and firm to make sure he feels every inch.

Despite trying to remain firmly in this fantasy, Yussa's addled mind can't help but connect this to the first time, in that pocket of the Feywild. Caleb realized this about him then: that sometimes he forgets how much he enjoys something until it's put in front of him again. It has certainly made for some delicious nights (and days) together, though he also notices Caleb rarely suggests taking what Yussa has not offered on any given day. This fantasy is perfect for that, to give him the space to take whatever it is he wants knowing that it is what Yussa wants from him.

He should answer the question; when he finally manages to summon his voice the words almost die again on his tongue as Caleb's hips smack against the curve of his ass. Gods, how can he be expected to offer anything coherent?

"Not--not like this," he manages, his soft voice slightly slurred. Whatever other patrons that have him, Yussa can imagine few would be quite so comprehensive in their efforts as Caleb Widogast.