That Yussa is apparently not experiencing the same thing is mildly concerning. That his brain chooses to focus on the line of Yussa's back as he crouches down, then the way the leather strap of his book holster fits across his flattened chest, is a little frustrating.
"Oh," Caleb says, a heavy exhale tinged with nervous disappointment. "Sorry, I--I will need to pause a moment to remove a few layers. Otherwise I may overheat just from walking."
They find a boulder to stop and rest by, and Caleb goes through the process of unbuckling his own harness and setting it and its precious cargo carefully atop the stone beside him. He pulls his black sweater up over his head and leaves that there as well, then bends forward to pull off his layer of elven chainmail too. Removing armor is a risky choice, but the metal is only locking in the heat of his body and making him hotter. Useful in Aeor, but not so much here.
The undershirt beneath is simple undyed cotton, and air touching his skin through the thin, breathable fabric is a relief. "Much better," he decides, and his lips quirk into an encouraging half-smile directed at Yussa as he pulls his mussed red hair from its tie and hurriedly finger-combs it back into place before tying it back again.
He can still feel how red his skin must be, and the swoop low in his stomach as he looks at Yussa is far from unfamiliar. He knows this is not the best circumstance for that feeling, but he can't will it away and focus on something else as he normally would when the situation is less than appropriate. Yussa is so lovely, and this place in all its strange beauty makes him seem especially ethereal--but not untouchable. Caleb knows intimately the warmth and the taste of his skin, the softness of his lips. And now that he is thinking about it directly, he can't seem to put his thoughts back on the rails again. His heart is pounding. He can practically feel his pulse ticking in his neck.
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"Oh," Caleb says, a heavy exhale tinged with nervous disappointment. "Sorry, I--I will need to pause a moment to remove a few layers. Otherwise I may overheat just from walking."
They find a boulder to stop and rest by, and Caleb goes through the process of unbuckling his own harness and setting it and its precious cargo carefully atop the stone beside him. He pulls his black sweater up over his head and leaves that there as well, then bends forward to pull off his layer of elven chainmail too. Removing armor is a risky choice, but the metal is only locking in the heat of his body and making him hotter. Useful in Aeor, but not so much here.
The undershirt beneath is simple undyed cotton, and air touching his skin through the thin, breathable fabric is a relief. "Much better," he decides, and his lips quirk into an encouraging half-smile directed at Yussa as he pulls his mussed red hair from its tie and hurriedly finger-combs it back into place before tying it back again.
He can still feel how red his skin must be, and the swoop low in his stomach as he looks at Yussa is far from unfamiliar. He knows this is not the best circumstance for that feeling, but he can't will it away and focus on something else as he normally would when the situation is less than appropriate. Yussa is so lovely, and this place in all its strange beauty makes him seem especially ethereal--but not untouchable. Caleb knows intimately the warmth and the taste of his skin, the softness of his lips. And now that he is thinking about it directly, he can't seem to put his thoughts back on the rails again. His heart is pounding. He can practically feel his pulse ticking in his neck.