Caleb blinks, brow furrowing. Had they not fully plane-shifted? Admittedly his recollection is hazy, but this is the Feywild, isn't it?
All of this critical consideration promptly gets tossed out the proverbial window when Yussa gets up and pulls his smalls and pants back into place--because Caleb knows what kind of mess is between his thighs, how he must still be dripping--and looks back at him before bending over. Caleb has been admiring his ass in those pants all day (and somehow he knows that much, at least), especially with the heeled boots he wears, and this view is nothing less than fucking incredible. Gods, he'd follow him anywhere.
Which is good, because Yussa gives him another cheeky glance and begins walking away. Caleb, who finds himself suddenly able to move again after feeling briefly paralyzed by that gaze, stumbles far less smoothly to his feet. He pulls his smalls and trousers up again as well, wincing as he tucks his very sensitive and very hard cock into the former, and gathers the rest of his own things (books especially) before setting off after him.
The spot Yussa chooses is much nicer than the place Caleb had abruptly jumped him. Sheltered, green, soft. A thought occurs to him now that had been completely wiped from his brain before. Kneeling down on the grass, he sets his clothing and books aside. "I have, ah...a few things in my bag to make traveling more comfortable," he says, and opens the small satchel he'd pulled off earlier, his bag of holding. From it he pulls a tightly rolled mat for sleeping on, followed by a thick wool blanket, then a thinner knit one. "Not much, but it is better than the ground." He glances up with a lopsided smile, already dutifully rolling the mat out.
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All of this critical consideration promptly gets tossed out the proverbial window when Yussa gets up and pulls his smalls and pants back into place--because Caleb knows what kind of mess is between his thighs, how he must still be dripping--and looks back at him before bending over. Caleb has been admiring his ass in those pants all day (and somehow he knows that much, at least), especially with the heeled boots he wears, and this view is nothing less than fucking incredible. Gods, he'd follow him anywhere.
Which is good, because Yussa gives him another cheeky glance and begins walking away. Caleb, who finds himself suddenly able to move again after feeling briefly paralyzed by that gaze, stumbles far less smoothly to his feet. He pulls his smalls and trousers up again as well, wincing as he tucks his very sensitive and very hard cock into the former, and gathers the rest of his own things (books especially) before setting off after him.
The spot Yussa chooses is much nicer than the place Caleb had abruptly jumped him. Sheltered, green, soft. A thought occurs to him now that had been completely wiped from his brain before. Kneeling down on the grass, he sets his clothing and books aside. "I have, ah...a few things in my bag to make traveling more comfortable," he says, and opens the small satchel he'd pulled off earlier, his bag of holding. From it he pulls a tightly rolled mat for sleeping on, followed by a thick wool blanket, then a thinner knit one. "Not much, but it is better than the ground." He glances up with a lopsided smile, already dutifully rolling the mat out.