Caleb is so inclined. He guides the silken material along Yussa's elegant legs and finally off. They dangle from his fingers for only a moment before he drops them unceremoniously over the side of the bed. He is now more interested in getting a hand between Yussa's legs again and dragging his calloused fingertips lightly over his sensitive, flushed folds, only smearing the evidence of his own pleasure further.
"It sounds as though you are trying to threaten me, Master Errenis. But you know well that you are describing a very enjoyable evening for us both." Caleb's voice is warm with affection as much as it is dripping with playful suggestion.
He just loves the way Yussa scolds him when he is being cheeky. He strives to be worthy of that little click of his tongue.
"But I did misspeak, I apologize. I am very much looking forward to seeing you dressed today, schatz."
Yussa's lashes lower, flutter, as Caleb's fingers stroke against his cunt. He looks at the younger man with a smirk hiding at the corner of his mouth.
"Perhaps that lesson should begin now," he says. "You have left a mess, hm? You know what is expected."
He draws one knee closer to his body, opening himself more. Yussa knows he really shouldn't encourage this if they want to get out of bed, but he fully intends to end it on his terms, and Caleb will just have to manage.
"I do not have time to bathe again if we want to see any of the city before noon."
Caleb feels his pulse jump in anticipation. Yes, he knows what is expected. His tongue wets his lips as Yussa pulls a knee up, granting the access he'll need and presenting him with an absolutely devastating view of his cunt. His mouth is watering already.
"Of course, Master Errenis. I will take care of this quickly." Catching the older man's eye, his lips tick up the barest bit. They both know that if time was really of interest here, a casting of prestidigitation would be most prudent. But time is merely the pretense. This is about Yussa flexing his will and Caleb happily submitting to it. "You know that I always accept responsibility for the messes I make."
Lowering himself to get his face between the archmage's legs means sliding out from beneath him, but his hands return to clutching at his ass as he gets comfortable pressing eager kisses to his inner thighs. He doesn't hedge in this way for long, fully intending to make good on his word. Caleb puts his tongue to work in a slow, thorough lick straight up the center of his slit, pausing just after he reaches his clit to swallow.
There is plenty for him to clean up, and he is diligent as ever, lapping over and through Yussa's folds and drinking down the familiar taste of the two of them together. This time is a little different, however. For cleaning purposes, there is no reason for him to delve into his cunt, so he doesn't. He laps over his entrance repeatedly, but his tongue doesn't push inside.
Yussa shifts so that it's easier for Caleb to slide out from beneath him. That allows him the chance to reposition himself, getting more comfortable against the pillows rather than having his back up against the headboard. By the time he's settled again, he can feel Caleb's breath against his thigh. The archmage sighs as his lover begins with a slow lick.
As Caleb tends to him, Yussa relaxes and drapes his leg over the younger man's shoulder, lazily keeping him in place. His calf tenses like he wants to draw Caleb closer as his tongue licks past his entrance. He should have anticipated that Caleb would find a way to tease him, but he does not chide him for it. It wouldn't be right to reprimand him when he is doing exactly what Yussa has told him to do. His hips move, subtle and lazy, to meet the slide of Caleb's tongue. He rides the gentle pleasure of it as he tries to avoid getting too worked up.
One hand rests on Caleb's head, absently petting his hair back.
Quite simply, Caleb loves this. His eyes have slipped closed, and his tongue works tirelessly to clean every trace of his come from the hot, tender flesh between Yussa's thighs. Yussa moves lazily back against him, taking what he's due from Caleb's eager mouth with a slim leg draped over his shoulder and a hand thoughtlessly stroking his hair back from his face. But he does not have to move much. Caleb makes sure of that.
Licking over his clit and tightening his slick lips around it to lightly suck, Caleb knows he could lose himself like this for hours--he has before, happily forgetting the rest of the world with his face buried between Yussa's legs. But as the taste of the other man's cunt becomes gradually more overwhelming than that of his own spend, he knows that his time in this endeavor is limited. He'd promised to be quick today.
There is a hazy warmth to his gaze when his eyes slip open and he pulls back just enough to lick his lips. He is well aware that while he has performed his task very well, he hasn't made Yussa come. That is, perhaps, a little intentional.
"Is this satisfactory, Master Errenis?" he asks, his voice a soft rumble. If Yussa tells him that he isn't finished yet, he'll gladly continue. But he waits for word either way, curious.
Just as Caleb loses himself in his task, Yussa sinks into the gentle pleasure of it. Part of that comes from knowing that Caleb enjoys this as much as he does.
Muscles tense and relax as his lover offers him diligent attention, sucking and licking with all the knowledge of a man with a very good memory and an utter devotion. He's starting to get worked up again by the time Caleb stops. It isn't abrupt, but it is somewhat unexpected. When he sees the look in the younger man's eyes, perhaps it shouldn't have been.
The low, gravely quality of Caleb's voice has almost as much effect as his tongue. Yussa continues to pet Caleb's hair, light and affectionate as he seems to give the question all due consideration. It would be easy to tell the other man to finish, to get him off, and continue from there. But, he isn't so worked up yet that it would be overly distracting for him if they stop now.
His hand drifts down, stroking along Caleb's cheek before elegant fingers brush his damp lips. Ridiculously, he thinks of something he used to say to students.
"If you are satisfied with what you have done, then we can move on and I will dress."
Inevitably one of two things would happen: the student would pour over the work to make sure they truly hadn't missed anything, or they would agree to move on with varying degrees of confidence. And at that point, Yussa would not point out any errors: the student would learn one way or the other if their formulas or glyphs were correct.
Just like that, Caleb is outplayed. This tactic on Yussa's part is so unfair, but so perfect. Of course Caleb doesn't feel satisfied. He won't be happy until he has Yussa's approval, and that certainly doesn't sound like this. When has he ever refused an opportunity to make his lover come?
"No," he murmurs. "I would prefer to continue. There is more I can offer."
Perhaps Yussa would not be overly bothered, but Caleb would certainly linger on a performance only half complete. It will take a little more time, but not very much. He knows that he is good at this.
He holds the archmage's gaze for a moment longer before he ducks back down. While now fastidiously clean of his own release, Yussa's folds are still hot and slick against his lips, flushing with renewed arousal. Caleb lets his thumbs glide up and down in the grooves of the elf's slim hips as he uses the very tip of his tongue to tease his outer lips, to build up some anticipation. He works his way in slowly, lets his relaxed pace wind him up, and then waits for the first impatient cant of the other man's hips, voluntary or not, to go in for a long, deep lick.
While Caleb certainly utilized his skill in this to make Yussa feel good in the process of cleaning him up, this is all technique, clearly with the singular goal of getting him off.
Yussa relaxes back and a moan escapes on his next breath as Caleb resumes his work with clear determination. He says nothing by way of encouragement or instruction, allowing Caleb to do what he is best at. He's clever and quick with a good memory, and he knows precisely how to get his lover off. There is no need to interrupt that.
Still, it's teasing, too slow and it isn't very long at all before Yussa moves. His calf tenses against Caleb's back and his hips move, trying to get more. He is rewarded with more intense attention and the tension builds in him as Caleb works him up. His fingers tighten in his lover's hair, and it's a testament to the other man's skill that Yussa starts trying to ride his tongue, chasing exactly what he wants even as Caleb gives it to him.
It doesn't take long like this. Yussa's legs tighten around Caleb as the younger man coaxes another orgasm from him with nothing but his tongue.
Ramping up slowly and building intensity serves Caleb well; when he finally gives Yussa what he needs, it isn't much longer before he's going tight and coming on his tongue. The quiet pride he takes in getting the other wizard off both skillfully and efficiently shows in the bright focus of his eyes and the slight curl of his lips as he works Yussa down from it with gentler, soothing licks.
What a relief that it hasn't been long enough yet for his cock to begin to stir again. At least he won't be spending the remainder of the morning fighting down his own arousal--or so he hopes.
When he feels the subtle tremors in Yussa's body subside, Caleb slides his leg gently from his shoulder and sits up, wincing a little as he feels the strain that position put on his back. Gods, he really isn't getting any younger, is he. Still, he leans in to kiss the other man sweetly, hands framing his bare hips in a soft and affectionate caress.
"That is a performance I am satisfied with," he murmurs.
Yussa looks utterly sated by the time Caleb lifts his head. Though that certainly got his blood racing again, Caleb's skill in application and measured pacing means Yussa doesn't have to work too hard to catch his breath.
He tips his head to meet the kiss. This was a dangerous way to start their morning: he could stay here for the rest of the day. It's been a little while since they were truly able to catch up.
The archmage laughs quietly as Caleb speaks.
"Good," he says, voice warm and smooth. Yussa gives Caleb another light kiss. "Help me up, help me dress. Truly, this time."
Caleb nods. "Truly, this time," he agrees, and tugs his robe back around him, loosely tying the sash at his waist again before he gets up. Not only does he help Yussa out of bed, but he helps him out of his bandeau as well, with only a little distracted fondling.
"I had already decided on these from the start, for the most part," he admits when he hands the other man the camisole and bloomers set a second time. He doesn't sound sorry because he isn't. "But I just could not be sure until I had seen everything."
With most of Yussa's clothing for the day already laid out, it is easy to decide on the remaining pieces, a black and gold blouse matching the skirt, and an embroidered vest on top of that. Caleb is very pleased with his selections, and more than happy to help Yussa into them as desired. He'll need to clean up a little before he gets dressed himself, but that won't take very long.
"Perhaps you should choose an outfit for me as well while I am washing up," he suggests warmly. "Though I am afraid my selection of smallclothes is not so exciting."
Yussa lightly bats Caleb's hand away as he cops a feel while helping. The gesture is more chiding than an actual expression of displeasure - if there is any doubt, a smile still hides in the curve of Yussa's lips.
He slips back into the camisole and absently casts prestidigitation again before putting the bloomers on. With Caleb's help, it's easy to get dressed. He likes the intimacy of the act, the way his lover's hands linger here and there, the way he stands closer than he needs to. He looks over his shoulder at the other man.
"I think I will. And no matter, we both know I prefer you out of them." Yussa lightly cups Caleb's chin before he drifts away to paw through all of Caleb's clothes. By the time Caleb returns, Yussa has picked out clothes that don't match his, per se, but there are elements that certainly compliment. As if they go together.
That parting comment keeps Caleb smiling the entire time he's washing up. When he returns to find that Yussa has chosen an outfit for him that actually coordinates rather nicely with his own, he leans down to press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, schatz," he murmurs. "This is perfect."
The clothing itself isn't anything special; dark breeches, one of his nicer shirts with a vest over it. It's the sort of thing he might wear to work. But the colors and traditionally Zemnian details tie him to what Yussa is wearing. It means they will be seen as a pair. Together. And Yussa wants to give that impression. Why else would he have chosen what he had?
Caleb has never been happier to get dressed.
"Is there anywhere special you would like to go?" he asks as they come down the stairs together, finally ready to leave. It isn't yet noon, so they've still managed to make good time. "Or are you content to let me take you to all of the places that I like?" His eyes are warm and bright, and he has the great and terrible thought that perhaps he'll offer his hand as they walk today, if he can muster that much courage.
Yussa sweeps his cloak on, then his gloves as Caleb reviews their options. He looks at the younger man, admiring him and also considering his suggestion. The look on Caleb's face is quite irresistible. He finishes adjusting his gloves.
"I am content to let you squire me about wherever you like," he says at last. "I would like to experience the city from your perspective."
After a moment, he adds: "And... bear in mind I may wish to retreat somewhere more quiet."
Yussa doesn't wander around Nicodranas much, he's very happy in his tower and content to let Wensforth run most of his errands. The few things he does leave for either involve leaving Nicodranas entirely or in dealing with merchants directly. At times, his presence makes a difference, or there are components or artifacts or whatever else he would like to see with his own eyes. He is happy to explore Rexxentrum with Caleb as his guide, but he also feels it important to offer that warning.
Caleb ties up his boots and dons both his coat and scarf, privately finding Yussa's gloves rather charming. This is still very different attire to what he is used to seeing on the other wizard, and the novelty of all of it--of Yussa being here in the first place--makes him appreciate every detail.
Very aware that occasions where Yussa chooses to appear in public are rare, Caleb isn't intending to take him anywhere rowdy or loud, but his warning is noted with a nod of understanding nonetheless.
"Of course. There are many quiet places in this city I enjoy. Including my home, if that is how you are feeling." There is no reason they have to be out all day. If Yussa decides he's had enough entirely, Caleb won't be disappointed. "I would be happy for another evening like yesterday." Comfortable, companionable, and relaxed. Of course, that presumes he will be hosting Yussa again, but he had told him to ask for what he wants. Meeting the elven wizard's golden eyes, he adds, "And another night as well, if you would like to stay longer."
Yussa meets Caleb's gaze when he makes clear a request - a desire - and the archmage allows a pleased look.
"It would be my pleasure to stay another night, Master Widogast."
The rest they can address as the day goes on. Yussa is not incapable of long days among people, but he self-aware enough now that he knows when he needs to step away. And he trusts that Caleb will help in that. But he is eager to see this city - one he has not set foot in for decades - by the side of someone who knows and loves it.
Whatever Trent Ikithon did, Yussa is grateful that it has not completely robbed Caleb of his ability to find joy.
Though he expected Yussa would likely agree, the obvious pleasure in his positive response feels rewarding. It makes Caleb very glad he'd asked. "Thank you. You are a delightful guest, Master Errenis, and I am happy to have you." He refrains from a kiss, though the affection lighting up his face is obvious. "I had hoped to have time to show you my other home, and it seems we will."
There is a little thrill at the idea of inviting Yussa into his tower--something he has long contemplated, but has never found quite the right occasion for. Though he doesn't use it much these days now that he has a physical home is quite happy with, the tower was his first home. It is the Nein's home, still, even if they are not present to occupy it.
At last, Caleb opens his front door and gestures Yussa ahead of him with a sweep of his arm. "Shall we? There is a teashop nearby that I think you must see."
He's intrigued to see this tower. He knows Caleb has the spell, but he has never had occasion to see it and he wonders what it looks like. These things are always a reflection of those who cast them, and some are far better at imposing their will than others.
Yussa slips out of the house ahead of Caleb and waits for him as he closes up behind them. He smiles at the mention of the teashop. As they walk, he resists the urge to disguise himself at all. They aren't in Zadash, there is really no need. There are few here who know him, or who would recognize him on sight. His reputation may precede him in the halls of the Academy, but knowing his name is not the same as knowing what he looks like.
Caleb locks up behind them with a physical key that his slips into his vest pocket and by engaging his arcane wards. He leaves nothing too important or potentially incrementing in the house, preferring to keep important items on him in his amber vault and to store any evidence regarding the case against the Assembly safely at the Cobalt Soul, but what wizard doesn't want to protect his own work?
He turns to Yussa with the same warmth that has lingered in his eyes all day, and they set off in the direction of Caleb's favorite teashop.
"There is nothing like tea from our friend Caduceus, of course," he says as they walk, "but as I cannot make a trip to the Blooming Grove every time I am running short, I pad out my supply from this shop. Their specialty blends are unique. I have not yet had one that disappointed me."
True to the name, the Tangles are a labyrinth of streets of streets that twist and turn with seemingly no rhyme or reason, some narrow, some wide, some residential, some crowded with shops. This oldest part of this very old city is a snarl that the rest expanded around. Caleb has no problem at all navigating. With his memory and innate sense of direction, he was made to live in a place like this. Some streets are much busier than others, and as they reach one thronged with people, he thinks again about offering his hand. But nerves get the better of him, and he offers his arm instead. A compromise, and nearly as good.
Yussa likes the Tangles, and he likes them even more with such a capable guide. When Caleb offers his arm as they approach a crowded street, Yussa doesn't hesitate to lace his own through it. He keeps close to Caleb, taking the excuse of the crowd to do so.
"There is a place in Nicodranas that supplies many of my preferred blends, but if I find something here I enjoy enough, you may be obligated to bring some each time you visit," he warns with a little smirk.
The press of people doesn't bother him too much - it's duration more than anything that starts to wear on him - but he is happy none the less to set foot in the teashop, their presence announced by the soft sound of a little bell.
"I am aware of the risks," Caleb quips in return, "and am prepared to accept this condition, should it become necessary."
He's also quite happy to have an excuse to keep Yussa close as they walk. Though it's a near certainty that no on on the street is going to recognize either of them, Caleb carries a quiet sense of pride with him today because Yussa is happy to be seen with him. He hadn't quite realized how much that would mean to him.
The shop is small and cozy, with a single small table by the front window and the halfling owner, Frida, behind the counter portioning out loose leaf with a delicate scale. She smiles up at them when the bell chimes, and smiles a little wider when she greets Caleb by name in Zemnian. He's here frequently enough to be friendly.
"Hallo, Frida. I have a friend in town with an appreciation for tea, so I thought I would bring him by," he explains. While they normally talk in Zemnian, he speaks in Common for Yussa's benefit, and she catches on.
"I would be offended if you did not," she says. Her accent in Common is even thicker than his. "Come, friend of Caleb, tell me what to make for you." She gestures them emphatically up to the counter, which is human-sized rather than halfling to accommodate the majority of her customers. She's always perched in a tall chair to make up the difference.
Frida moves her work aside to replace it with a pair of mugs she pulls from beneath the counter, and lifts the steaming kettle from the enchanted warming plate beside her to fill them. "It is cold out. Drink up," she urges. The tea is deep orange in color and the aroma is both earthy and spicy. Caleb wraps a hand around a mug, letting the warmth seep into his fingers as he lifts it up to breathe in the steam.
Yussa is quietly charmed by Frida and by her familiarity with Caleb. When she addresses him, he is able to articulate what he likes with ease, and he ends by saying that he trusts her judgement with those details in mind.
He's pleased by the blend she offers them, and he gives his quiet thanks as he accepts his own mug. He can feel the warmth through his gloves and it's very pleasant.
"Thank you, Mistress," he says with a polite nod. He glances at Caleb, then drifts to the table by the window. There is no reason to rush back outside.
Caleb gives his thanks as well before following Yussa to the single table, quietly pleased that he seems so pleased. Cradling his own mug, he slides into the seat across from him. He's sat here a few times before, gazing out the window and losing himself in thought. It's good for people watching, and no one disturbs him.
"We could go to the street market next," he muses aloud, looking from his cup to the window. "There are vendors there from across the northern part of the Empire. Craftsmen, artisans, specialists in unique fields--there is always something interesting." With a hint of a smile as he glances back at Yussa, he adds, "There are also outdoor festivities in that area from summer through Harvest's Close. This time of year, that mostly means beer, food, and music."
A thought comes to him--an memory, really--and Caleb considers quietly for a moment before allowing himself to relate it, quiet and little rueful, but fond. "My father went a few times when I was a child, joining others bringing crops from our village into the city to sell at the market. When he would come home and tell me about it, it always sounded so grand. I skipped class a couple of times while I was in school to go myself."
Yussa listens as he looks out the window, taking in everything from behind the safety of the glass. The market sounds interesting, and it would be hard to ignore the way Caleb sounds as he talks about it. Golden eyes shift from the streetscape to the young man sitting across from him.
They don't speak much of their pasts, the lives they lived before Caleb and his friends showed up outside his tower, wanting an audience. Yussa has never asked, but he takes information whenever Caleb offers it. This comes with hesitation, and he can hear the sorrow hiding behind the fondness of the memory.
He lowers his gaze to his tea, allowing himself a bit of nostalgia.
"When I was very young, I would hide unless I was promised a chance to look for books," he says. "When I got older, I found the appeal in exploring."
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"It sounds as though you are trying to threaten me, Master Errenis. But you know well that you are describing a very enjoyable evening for us both." Caleb's voice is warm with affection as much as it is dripping with playful suggestion.
He just loves the way Yussa scolds him when he is being cheeky. He strives to be worthy of that little click of his tongue.
"But I did misspeak, I apologize. I am very much looking forward to seeing you dressed today, schatz."
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"Perhaps that lesson should begin now," he says. "You have left a mess, hm? You know what is expected."
He draws one knee closer to his body, opening himself more. Yussa knows he really shouldn't encourage this if they want to get out of bed, but he fully intends to end it on his terms, and Caleb will just have to manage.
"I do not have time to bathe again if we want to see any of the city before noon."
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"Of course, Master Errenis. I will take care of this quickly." Catching the older man's eye, his lips tick up the barest bit. They both know that if time was really of interest here, a casting of prestidigitation would be most prudent. But time is merely the pretense. This is about Yussa flexing his will and Caleb happily submitting to it. "You know that I always accept responsibility for the messes I make."
Lowering himself to get his face between the archmage's legs means sliding out from beneath him, but his hands return to clutching at his ass as he gets comfortable pressing eager kisses to his inner thighs. He doesn't hedge in this way for long, fully intending to make good on his word. Caleb puts his tongue to work in a slow, thorough lick straight up the center of his slit, pausing just after he reaches his clit to swallow.
There is plenty for him to clean up, and he is diligent as ever, lapping over and through Yussa's folds and drinking down the familiar taste of the two of them together. This time is a little different, however. For cleaning purposes, there is no reason for him to delve into his cunt, so he doesn't. He laps over his entrance repeatedly, but his tongue doesn't push inside.
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As Caleb tends to him, Yussa relaxes and drapes his leg over the younger man's shoulder, lazily keeping him in place. His calf tenses like he wants to draw Caleb closer as his tongue licks past his entrance. He should have anticipated that Caleb would find a way to tease him, but he does not chide him for it. It wouldn't be right to reprimand him when he is doing exactly what Yussa has told him to do. His hips move, subtle and lazy, to meet the slide of Caleb's tongue. He rides the gentle pleasure of it as he tries to avoid getting too worked up.
One hand rests on Caleb's head, absently petting his hair back.
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Licking over his clit and tightening his slick lips around it to lightly suck, Caleb knows he could lose himself like this for hours--he has before, happily forgetting the rest of the world with his face buried between Yussa's legs. But as the taste of the other man's cunt becomes gradually more overwhelming than that of his own spend, he knows that his time in this endeavor is limited. He'd promised to be quick today.
There is a hazy warmth to his gaze when his eyes slip open and he pulls back just enough to lick his lips. He is well aware that while he has performed his task very well, he hasn't made Yussa come. That is, perhaps, a little intentional.
"Is this satisfactory, Master Errenis?" he asks, his voice a soft rumble. If Yussa tells him that he isn't finished yet, he'll gladly continue. But he waits for word either way, curious.
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Muscles tense and relax as his lover offers him diligent attention, sucking and licking with all the knowledge of a man with a very good memory and an utter devotion. He's starting to get worked up again by the time Caleb stops. It isn't abrupt, but it is somewhat unexpected. When he sees the look in the younger man's eyes, perhaps it shouldn't have been.
The low, gravely quality of Caleb's voice has almost as much effect as his tongue. Yussa continues to pet Caleb's hair, light and affectionate as he seems to give the question all due consideration. It would be easy to tell the other man to finish, to get him off, and continue from there. But, he isn't so worked up yet that it would be overly distracting for him if they stop now.
His hand drifts down, stroking along Caleb's cheek before elegant fingers brush his damp lips. Ridiculously, he thinks of something he used to say to students.
"If you are satisfied with what you have done, then we can move on and I will dress."
Inevitably one of two things would happen: the student would pour over the work to make sure they truly hadn't missed anything, or they would agree to move on with varying degrees of confidence. And at that point, Yussa would not point out any errors: the student would learn one way or the other if their formulas or glyphs were correct.
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"No," he murmurs. "I would prefer to continue. There is more I can offer."
Perhaps Yussa would not be overly bothered, but Caleb would certainly linger on a performance only half complete. It will take a little more time, but not very much. He knows that he is good at this.
He holds the archmage's gaze for a moment longer before he ducks back down. While now fastidiously clean of his own release, Yussa's folds are still hot and slick against his lips, flushing with renewed arousal. Caleb lets his thumbs glide up and down in the grooves of the elf's slim hips as he uses the very tip of his tongue to tease his outer lips, to build up some anticipation. He works his way in slowly, lets his relaxed pace wind him up, and then waits for the first impatient cant of the other man's hips, voluntary or not, to go in for a long, deep lick.
While Caleb certainly utilized his skill in this to make Yussa feel good in the process of cleaning him up, this is all technique, clearly with the singular goal of getting him off.
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Yussa relaxes back and a moan escapes on his next breath as Caleb resumes his work with clear determination. He says nothing by way of encouragement or instruction, allowing Caleb to do what he is best at. He's clever and quick with a good memory, and he knows precisely how to get his lover off. There is no need to interrupt that.
Still, it's teasing, too slow and it isn't very long at all before Yussa moves. His calf tenses against Caleb's back and his hips move, trying to get more. He is rewarded with more intense attention and the tension builds in him as Caleb works him up. His fingers tighten in his lover's hair, and it's a testament to the other man's skill that Yussa starts trying to ride his tongue, chasing exactly what he wants even as Caleb gives it to him.
It doesn't take long like this. Yussa's legs tighten around Caleb as the younger man coaxes another orgasm from him with nothing but his tongue.
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What a relief that it hasn't been long enough yet for his cock to begin to stir again. At least he won't be spending the remainder of the morning fighting down his own arousal--or so he hopes.
When he feels the subtle tremors in Yussa's body subside, Caleb slides his leg gently from his shoulder and sits up, wincing a little as he feels the strain that position put on his back. Gods, he really isn't getting any younger, is he. Still, he leans in to kiss the other man sweetly, hands framing his bare hips in a soft and affectionate caress.
"That is a performance I am satisfied with," he murmurs.
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He tips his head to meet the kiss. This was a dangerous way to start their morning: he could stay here for the rest of the day. It's been a little while since they were truly able to catch up.
The archmage laughs quietly as Caleb speaks.
"Good," he says, voice warm and smooth. Yussa gives Caleb another light kiss. "Help me up, help me dress. Truly, this time."
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"I had already decided on these from the start, for the most part," he admits when he hands the other man the camisole and bloomers set a second time. He doesn't sound sorry because he isn't. "But I just could not be sure until I had seen everything."
With most of Yussa's clothing for the day already laid out, it is easy to decide on the remaining pieces, a black and gold blouse matching the skirt, and an embroidered vest on top of that. Caleb is very pleased with his selections, and more than happy to help Yussa into them as desired. He'll need to clean up a little before he gets dressed himself, but that won't take very long.
"Perhaps you should choose an outfit for me as well while I am washing up," he suggests warmly. "Though I am afraid my selection of smallclothes is not so exciting."
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He slips back into the camisole and absently casts prestidigitation again before putting the bloomers on. With Caleb's help, it's easy to get dressed. He likes the intimacy of the act, the way his lover's hands linger here and there, the way he stands closer than he needs to. He looks over his shoulder at the other man.
"I think I will. And no matter, we both know I prefer you out of them." Yussa lightly cups Caleb's chin before he drifts away to paw through all of Caleb's clothes. By the time Caleb returns, Yussa has picked out clothes that don't match his, per se, but there are elements that certainly compliment. As if they go together.
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The clothing itself isn't anything special; dark breeches, one of his nicer shirts with a vest over it. It's the sort of thing he might wear to work. But the colors and traditionally Zemnian details tie him to what Yussa is wearing. It means they will be seen as a pair. Together. And Yussa wants to give that impression. Why else would he have chosen what he had?
Caleb has never been happier to get dressed.
"Is there anywhere special you would like to go?" he asks as they come down the stairs together, finally ready to leave. It isn't yet noon, so they've still managed to make good time. "Or are you content to let me take you to all of the places that I like?" His eyes are warm and bright, and he has the great and terrible thought that perhaps he'll offer his hand as they walk today, if he can muster that much courage.
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"I am content to let you squire me about wherever you like," he says at last. "I would like to experience the city from your perspective."
After a moment, he adds: "And... bear in mind I may wish to retreat somewhere more quiet."
Yussa doesn't wander around Nicodranas much, he's very happy in his tower and content to let Wensforth run most of his errands. The few things he does leave for either involve leaving Nicodranas entirely or in dealing with merchants directly. At times, his presence makes a difference, or there are components or artifacts or whatever else he would like to see with his own eyes. He is happy to explore Rexxentrum with Caleb as his guide, but he also feels it important to offer that warning.
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Very aware that occasions where Yussa chooses to appear in public are rare, Caleb isn't intending to take him anywhere rowdy or loud, but his warning is noted with a nod of understanding nonetheless.
"Of course. There are many quiet places in this city I enjoy. Including my home, if that is how you are feeling." There is no reason they have to be out all day. If Yussa decides he's had enough entirely, Caleb won't be disappointed. "I would be happy for another evening like yesterday." Comfortable, companionable, and relaxed. Of course, that presumes he will be hosting Yussa again, but he had told him to ask for what he wants. Meeting the elven wizard's golden eyes, he adds, "And another night as well, if you would like to stay longer."
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"It would be my pleasure to stay another night, Master Widogast."
The rest they can address as the day goes on. Yussa is not incapable of long days among people, but he self-aware enough now that he knows when he needs to step away. And he trusts that Caleb will help in that. But he is eager to see this city - one he has not set foot in for decades - by the side of someone who knows and loves it.
Whatever Trent Ikithon did, Yussa is grateful that it has not completely robbed Caleb of his ability to find joy.
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There is a little thrill at the idea of inviting Yussa into his tower--something he has long contemplated, but has never found quite the right occasion for. Though he doesn't use it much these days now that he has a physical home is quite happy with, the tower was his first home. It is the Nein's home, still, even if they are not present to occupy it.
At last, Caleb opens his front door and gestures Yussa ahead of him with a sweep of his arm. "Shall we? There is a teashop nearby that I think you must see."
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He's intrigued to see this tower. He knows Caleb has the spell, but he has never had occasion to see it and he wonders what it looks like. These things are always a reflection of those who cast them, and some are far better at imposing their will than others.
Yussa slips out of the house ahead of Caleb and waits for him as he closes up behind them. He smiles at the mention of the teashop. As they walk, he resists the urge to disguise himself at all. They aren't in Zadash, there is really no need. There are few here who know him, or who would recognize him on sight. His reputation may precede him in the halls of the Academy, but knowing his name is not the same as knowing what he looks like.
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He turns to Yussa with the same warmth that has lingered in his eyes all day, and they set off in the direction of Caleb's favorite teashop.
"There is nothing like tea from our friend Caduceus, of course," he says as they walk, "but as I cannot make a trip to the Blooming Grove every time I am running short, I pad out my supply from this shop. Their specialty blends are unique. I have not yet had one that disappointed me."
True to the name, the Tangles are a labyrinth of streets of streets that twist and turn with seemingly no rhyme or reason, some narrow, some wide, some residential, some crowded with shops. This oldest part of this very old city is a snarl that the rest expanded around. Caleb has no problem at all navigating. With his memory and innate sense of direction, he was made to live in a place like this. Some streets are much busier than others, and as they reach one thronged with people, he thinks again about offering his hand. But nerves get the better of him, and he offers his arm instead. A compromise, and nearly as good.
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"There is a place in Nicodranas that supplies many of my preferred blends, but if I find something here I enjoy enough, you may be obligated to bring some each time you visit," he warns with a little smirk.
The press of people doesn't bother him too much - it's duration more than anything that starts to wear on him - but he is happy none the less to set foot in the teashop, their presence announced by the soft sound of a little bell.
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He's also quite happy to have an excuse to keep Yussa close as they walk. Though it's a near certainty that no on on the street is going to recognize either of them, Caleb carries a quiet sense of pride with him today because Yussa is happy to be seen with him. He hadn't quite realized how much that would mean to him.
The shop is small and cozy, with a single small table by the front window and the halfling owner, Frida, behind the counter portioning out loose leaf with a delicate scale. She smiles up at them when the bell chimes, and smiles a little wider when she greets Caleb by name in Zemnian. He's here frequently enough to be friendly.
"Hallo, Frida. I have a friend in town with an appreciation for tea, so I thought I would bring him by," he explains. While they normally talk in Zemnian, he speaks in Common for Yussa's benefit, and she catches on.
"I would be offended if you did not," she says. Her accent in Common is even thicker than his. "Come, friend of Caleb, tell me what to make for you." She gestures them emphatically up to the counter, which is human-sized rather than halfling to accommodate the majority of her customers. She's always perched in a tall chair to make up the difference.
Frida moves her work aside to replace it with a pair of mugs she pulls from beneath the counter, and lifts the steaming kettle from the enchanted warming plate beside her to fill them. "It is cold out. Drink up," she urges. The tea is deep orange in color and the aroma is both earthy and spicy. Caleb wraps a hand around a mug, letting the warmth seep into his fingers as he lifts it up to breathe in the steam.
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He's pleased by the blend she offers them, and he gives his quiet thanks as he accepts his own mug. He can feel the warmth through his gloves and it's very pleasant.
"Thank you, Mistress," he says with a polite nod. He glances at Caleb, then drifts to the table by the window. There is no reason to rush back outside.
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"We could go to the street market next," he muses aloud, looking from his cup to the window. "There are vendors there from across the northern part of the Empire. Craftsmen, artisans, specialists in unique fields--there is always something interesting." With a hint of a smile as he glances back at Yussa, he adds, "There are also outdoor festivities in that area from summer through Harvest's Close. This time of year, that mostly means beer, food, and music."
A thought comes to him--an memory, really--and Caleb considers quietly for a moment before allowing himself to relate it, quiet and little rueful, but fond. "My father went a few times when I was a child, joining others bringing crops from our village into the city to sell at the market. When he would come home and tell me about it, it always sounded so grand. I skipped class a couple of times while I was in school to go myself."
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They don't speak much of their pasts, the lives they lived before Caleb and his friends showed up outside his tower, wanting an audience. Yussa has never asked, but he takes information whenever Caleb offers it. This comes with hesitation, and he can hear the sorrow hiding behind the fondness of the memory.
He lowers his gaze to his tea, allowing himself a bit of nostalgia.
"When I was very young, I would hide unless I was promised a chance to look for books," he says. "When I got older, I found the appeal in exploring."