A soft hum, the sound of a door. Caleb exhales. He knows what an invitation sounds like.
He travels up the stairs with an effort put toward being quiet, as though Yussa really might be asleep. As he suspected, the door to Yussa's bedroom is slightly ajar. He pushes it open just enough for him to slip in and closes it behind him.
This room, too is awash in moonlight, cut through with the lattice's shadow. But there are a few other magelights glowing as well, which he assumes must be for his benefit. He knows Yussa doesn't sleep with them on. The man himself looks comfortable on his back in the middle of his bed, an arm draped across his middle. A long white nightgown that Caleb knows will be soft to the touch covers his warm brown skin, except where the buttons have been undone over his throat and down his chest. He is resting, but it is impossible to tell from here whether that means trancing or (feigned) sleep.
Tempting as it is to go to him at once, Caleb stops by the foot of the bed and begins to undress himself first. He makes no sound but the rustle of fabric or the occasional metallic scrape of a buckle releasing, muting himself for Yussa's sake, for the sake of this game. He strips all the way down to his smallclothes, which he doesn't intend to keep on for long either.
The scene before him, his lover dozing peacefully in the moonlight, is so idyllic that for a moment Caleb seriously considers abandoning his plans to instead curl up close to Yussa and join him in sleep. But he has set an expectation now, and Yussa's soft, relaxed state is appealing in other ways also.
Caleb merely sits on the edge of the bed at first. He is turned toward Yussa, but not quite touching him, a leg folded on the bed and the other foot still touching the floor. "Thank you for letting me in," he murmurs, voice almost quieter than when he'd Messaged. He doesn't expect a response. "Sorry about last time. I have been thinking about you since. Wanting to come back to make it up to you."
He touches the inside of Yussa's knee, a brush of fingertips where the hem of his long nightgown has slid up to pool there.
"I suppose you do not need to be awake for that. I would not wish to disturb you, after all."
The only drawback of this particular game is that he is denied seeing Caleb immediately, but the patience is worth the payoff. Yussa listens distantly to the younger man cross his room, quiet as he can be. He catches the rustle of clothes before he feels the dip in the bed.
Yussa hasn't let himself slip into a full trance, but neither is he feigning his current state. Caleb's voice sounds distant, though clear, and the promise there sends a pleasant chill slithering up his back. They have not negotiated this beyond his own reassurance that he would like to do it again, that the experiment is worth repeating. He will see where this goes, try to gauge as best he can where Caleb wishes it to go. His body is already responding favorably to his lover's light touch. The sound of Caleb's voice alone can have that effect when the other man offers that deeper rasp that forever sounds like he is aching for something.
Unlike the last time they did this, Yussa is completely dressed down for a night of resting. Though he had not expected any company, there is nothing beneath the soft kaftan he's chosen to wear to bed.
As expected, Yussa doesn't react. He is either dreaming or distantly semi-aware--Caleb has mostly come to understand trance as a state of deep meditation that is sort of like being half-asleep, but he expects he'll never really know how correct (or not) that is. Whatever the case, Yussa had encouraged this after the last time, and confirmed that interest again tonight, so he doesn't hesitate. Whatever state Yussa is in, he wants this.
His touch is tender as he combs his fingers lightly through the other man's pale hair, pushing it back from his forehead. At the same time, the other hand slides up from his knee, reaching easily beneath the lightweight white fabric as he caresses along the inside of his thigh. The skin there is decadently soft and warm, and he takes his time feeling it against the rougher callouses of his hand. He bends forward to kiss his lover's brow, the press of dry lips light but lingering.
Caleb's own sharp inhale is the loudest sound in the room when he discovers, at the natural end of his hand's journey upwards, nothing at all keeping him from his goal. His fingers brush directly over warm, bare folds. A little gentle exploration finds a promising reaction to his touch already, as his fingertips come away wet.
His gaze rakes with unabashed desire down Yussa's body, allowed to look his fill without the pressure of Yussa looking back. He can't see what his hand is doing between the archmage's thighs, but touch is more than enough for now. Though he hasn't touched himself at all, he is peripherally aware of his own arousal, and how quickly it is progressing, the illicit thrill of the act like oil to a hungry flame.
When Caleb leans close enough, Yussa catches the faint, pleasant scent of him as dry lips touch his brow. His presence is comforting and exciting. Despite the annoyance of the other night, Yussa is pleased to have his lover here now.
Caleb's touch is intimately familiar, and even if Yussa's breathing remains even and steady, his body responds eagerly. A warm flutter rushes through him as calloused fingertips find his bare cunt. Already he needs to decide how long he wants to keep himself under, how long he wants Caleb to get away with this. He remembers the thrill of the last time, the challenge of not breaking his trance while Caleb seemed intent on doing everything he could to shake it.
Cheeky. And desperately attractive.
Arousal trickles through him, growing from the glow he felt upon hearing Caleb's voice in his ear. Yussa is startled by how much he aches to touch him, but he will wait.
Caleb knows the signs of arousal in Yussa, even while he is resting. He watches his skin take on a warmer hue, especially around his face and neck. He measures his own breaths and keeps his movements slow and spare. He longs to press his lips to Yussa's, knowing how soft and inviting he will find them, but the angle isn't right. Soon, though.
"You know, those potions you gifted me proved very helpful," he murmurs, quiet and rasping and achingly fond. Knowing that Yussa can hear him (probably), but wanting to maintain the effort not to wake him. In contrast to the time before, he is intent on not interrupting his lover's slumber. "But it was more helpful still to be reminded of what I had to return to, and who would be waiting for me. I am glad I dropped by."
Three fingers rub firm but slow over his opening as his cunt grows wetter, spreading dripping slick over warm, swelling folds. He takes his time with his clit, stroking lightly down and over again and again before strumming more deliberately back and forth as he feels it stiffen against his fingers.
It is all done by touch alone, unhurried, but not in a way designed to withhold pleasure. As if Caleb could do this all night--as if he intends to.
Yussa nearly loses his hold on the game when Caleb speaks softly of being reminded of what I had to return to. They have not spoken since the Nein rushed toward the southern horizon to battle Uk'otoa, not directly. He'd been assured by Jester of their safety upon their return and he had seen their ship make it to harbor, and rather than immediately reaching out to Caleb, Yussa... waited. Caleb would appear or contact him when he was ready to. The wait weighed on him more than he thought it would.
His breathing changes, though not so much as to suggest he might come out his trance. But his arousal is building with the steady rub of Caleb's fingers against his cunt, never slipping in to offer relief, only enough pressure to make him ache for it. And then they stroke across his clit with the same deliberate care. Yussa feels his cunt throb. It takes more effort than he thought it might on this second try to keep his hips still, to keep his body from shaking his concentration.
He wants to grab Caleb, to kiss him. But he has waited this long - he can wait longer while the younger man enjoys himself without the weight of Yussa's attention.
There are few things he loves more than having Yussa's attention. But there is freedom in this, a lack of expectation that calms Caleb as much as it arouses him. Here is his lover at rest, safe and trusting and beautiful. To be able to touch and pleasure him the way he wants to, with no pressure outside of his own mind, is relaxing. Uncomplicated. Exactly what he needs after suddenly taking on the weight of saving an unknowing world from a terrible destruction yet again.
His fingers crook, parting his folds and rubbing again over his entrance. This time, the middle one curls and pushes slowly inside, gently spreading hot, wet walls.
Caleb continues to count his own breaths as the rhythm of Yussa's gradually changes. He shifts on the bed, exceedingly careful not to jostle his elven companion, so that he can lean over him more easily. After another kiss to his brow, he presses one to the corner of his lips, and then finally full on the mouth. His finger strokes deeper as his tongue eases past pliant lips, tasting and exploring without demand.
His breathing remains deep, but it comes quicker as Caleb offers him penetration at last. Like any wizard should, Caleb has impeccable hands and Yussa thoroughly enjoys feeling his touch everywhere. As soon as Caleb's finger sinks as deep as it can, slow and gentle, Yussa's cunt squeezes around it.
Even in a trance, he is very aware of Caleb's movements over and around him. He feels the presence of his lover just before a warm kiss touches his brow, then another on his mouth. Yussa's lips party effortlessly to the sweep of Caleb's tongue. His body, already as relaxed as it can be in this state of rest, seems to give further as Caleb fucks him without any rush. Arousal clouds his mind and holding onto his trance becomes a matter of will rather than practice.
It shouldn't be an effort of concentration, and yet Caleb is very quickly making it one. This is already somewhat different than the first time they tried this, but that makes it exciting. He cannot predict it.
Caleb is thinking much less than he did when they first tried this. He kisses Yussa slowly and deeply, the same way he fucks him. That middle finger strokes steadily in and out until he presses his ring finger in beside it, knowing how a gentle stretch is often the key to taking Yussa from merely feeling good to building up to a peak.
There is a soft wet noise when their lips part, and Caleb's breath catches sharply. He doesn't move away. Instead, he ducks his head to kiss as far down the older man's neck as his collar will allow, slow and warm and rough with the scrape of his beard. His other hand slides between them to Yussa's chest, where he finds a small, unbound breast to knead through the thin white fabric separating them, the soft flesh filling his palm.
A rough whisper in Zemnian scrapes his voice through its lowest register, but the words are sweet, affectionate. His wrist twists between Yussa's thighs, only a slight adjustment needed so he can press his thumb over his clit, putting firm pressure there while his fingers do the work of fucking into him.
Breathing in the familiar spice of Yussa's cologne, Caleb's eyes slip closed. This is a level of peace he hasn't experienced in some time, even before the events of the last week. There is no need to listen to anything but the silent demands of his lover's sleeping body, no need to consider anything but what he will do to satisfy them. He's ached to be with Yussa these last few days; he hadn't known how much it was needed.
Yussa's lips remain slightly parted when the kiss breaks. It makes the little hiccups in his breathing more obvious as Caleb eases a second finger into him. Caleb's mouth is hot on his neck, and despite maintaining his trance, his pulse is quick there.
His cunt throbs as his lover's other hand palms his breast. The thin fabric of his robe brushes over his peaked nipple, sending a pleasant shiver through him. Caleb is assaulting him with pleasure, opening another front as his fingers shift inside him so that his thumb can stroke over his hard clit. He tightens briefly, core muscles beyond his control as the younger man works him toward his peak.
He should not be so surprised by Caleb's determination, or the effortless skill with which he pursues in. Yussa's head tips back against his pillow and he drags in a more ragged breath. He has no hope of holding out, of delaying the mounting pleasure. Not if he intends to keep his hold on his trance for a little while longer.
Muscles tremble and tense again as Caleb coaxes an orgasm out of him and Yussa sincerely doubts it will be the last of the night. Caleb has never been one to just quit.
Though Caleb knows he hasn't awoken yet, Yussa moves more than he does as his pleasure builds, stretching and tightening and shaking. When that final shiver goes through him, making him tense around his fingers, Caleb makes a pleased noise against his neck, a quiet, rumbling hum, and kisses the soft skin beneath his jaw before sitting up.
His fingers persist a little longer, allowing Yussa to ride that swell of sensation as long as he can. Then they pull out of him as slowly as they'd slid in.
At last, he allows himself to view his work. His clean hand slides the hem of Yussa's kaftan all the way up his thighs, the fabric folding over his hips. The sight of his glistening, flushed folds between splayed legs brings a rush of pride and satisfaction, but also pure, aching desire, reminding him of his own arousal. His cock strains at his smalls, and Caleb stands to remove them.
"I was considering prolonging things by using my mouth next," he murmurs, the first words he's spoken aloud in Common for some few minutes now. "But that will have to wait. I need you sooner."
When Caleb returns to the bed, it is to position himself kneeling between the archmage's legs, guiding them open further with gentle hands into a comfortable spread. His cock fits neatly along his slit, a slick, slow slide of his most sensitive nerves against Yussa's as he grips his hips for leverage. Precome beads at the tip and is quickly rubbed away against his clit, as mesmerizing to watch as it is to feel. His lover's swollen folds are soaked with his own arousal, and as he grinds against him, his shaft is soon slick with it too.
"You are perfect like this," Caleb tells him softly, fondly, voice breathless and rasping. He smiles, tired around the edges, but tender. "Relaxed and open, but still aching for more. It is not my intent to interrupt your rest, so I will go slow. But how could I resist you?"
With something like relief, Yussa is able to calm his breathing some as he comes down from the high of his release. Goosebumps rise as Caleb pushes aside his kaftan but soon fade again. Yussa is aware of how exposed he is and he finds it exciting, almost as exciting as the way Caleb speaks to him, his voice and accent heavy when he finds his way back to Common.
I need you. Thank the gods. Yussa realizes he needs Caleb, too.
His lover's hands are gentle as they adjust his position, spreading his thighs more to make room for himself. Yussa clings to his concentration, but he can feel Caleb's hot cock rubbing against his still-sensitive cunt. He can't pull away - not without breaking his trance - or reach to offer his hand, so he has to ride that edge. He isn't uncomfortable, it would take more vigorous use before that sets in. But he is sensitive, and that makes it difficult to ignore or dampen the delicious feeling of Caleb's cock teasing him.
He almost misses the sweet affection in Caleb's words, distracted by the easy friction of his lover grinding against him, making himself slick with the evidence of Yussa's arousal. He aches to reach for this man, but he can wait. He can give Caleb this and enjoy it himself.
How could he resist indeed? Yussa has been gratified to see more facets of this man the longer they know each other and he is enamored with Caleb's willingness to experiment and the sweetness he offers.
"I am lucky," Caleb continues, low and warm, "that this is something you enjoy. So I can arrive in the middle of the night and know that if I want you, I can have you." It isn't quite so simple, of course, but it certainly sounds good murmured into the quiet half-dark with Yussa pliant beneath him.
The growing throb of heat in his body pushes him to continue before he winds up spilling all over Yussa's folds. Guiding the flushed head of his cock to his entrance, he presses inside with slow, aching care, as promised. It has been several weeks since they were last together this way, and while the tight grip of Yussa's cunt stretching for him feels dizzying, he takes his time working himself deeper to let his lover adjust. When Yussa cannot immediately voice his discomfort, he must be especially careful not to cause any.
The view as he does is spectacular. Between slender brown thighs, his already slick length grows wetter still as it glides in and out of the other man's tight opening, the drag back and forth against clinging walls becoming gradually easier. His breath stutters out of him, audibly edged with a moan, and he releases a hip so that deft fingers can begin undoing the buttons still keeping Yussa's nightgown closed.
"I know that you know exactly what is happening." He lowers his voice even further, a gravelly, panting scrape. "But I wonder if it would also thrill you to be unaware, and wake in the morning to an ache between your legs and evidence that your rest was not as uninterrupted as you thought."
Caleb's cock spreads him open and his body yields to it as his lover finally sinks into him. The trust Yussa's given this man is well-rewarded with the care Caleb takes when they do things like this: Caleb makes great effort not to hurt him. A small tremor ripples through Yussa's body as Caleb rocks in and out of him, coaxing his cunt to relax further. The gentle stretch makes him want to moan, but other than his breathing, Yussa remains silent.
Cool air touches more of his skin as Caleb undoes the buttons. As the fabric parts and slides away, either with Caleb's guidance or just from the weight and fall of the fabric, another wave of shivers cascades through him, lighting him his nerves and threatening to wake him.
His lover's husky voice fills him with wicked thoughts, Yussa's mind racing to imagine such a scenario. What would it be like to wake - truly wake - with the soreness of being used? To wake to the feeling of come dripping from his cunt? He tightens briefly around the other man's cock on the next thrust inward.
Perhaps it is coincidence, but Caleb doesn't miss the way Yussa bears down on him as he pushes in again. It certainly seems like a reaction to his words, which stirs up all sorts of wicked thoughts. If Yussa enjoys that fantasy so much, maybe they can discuss it later.
"Did you like that?" he asks now, husky and gently teasing. With enough buttons undone, he tugs open the front of Yussa's caftan to bare his breasts. Both hands slide up his slim torso to squeeze at the soft flesh, rolling peaked nipples between thumb and forefinger. "You have been on my mind for days. I would have you any way I could."
His hips meet Yussa's as he bottoms out, and again when he pulls back to repeat the motion, stroking slowly deep inside his cunt to spread his passage open for longer, smoother thrusts to come. He is pacing himself for both their sakes, trying to keep a handle on his eagerness and regulate his breathing. If he relinquished his self-control, he could easily bring himself to a swift finish. But that isn't what he wants. He wants to take his time, to enjoy the unbelievable gift that is Yussa quietly and passively permitting him to take his pleasure this way. It is too good to squander.
Yussa aches to respond. He wants to grab Caleb, to hold his hair or his arms, to respond to the way his lover pinches and teases him with more than just another ripple of tension through his body. The callouses on the younger man's hands feel good against his soft skin, providing a rough edge to an otherwise tender encounter. Caleb has learned so quickly how to take him apart.
Caleb's hips press against him as he pushes deep again and again; Yussa cannot spare himself that awareness, teetering still on the line between full consciousness and his trance. He can tell Caleb is pacing himself and that excites him as much as it tests him.
In truth, he too has been thinking of Caleb for days. Since the young man left his tower with a satchel full of potions, ones he was willing to spare with some idea of what his lover - and his friends - were rushing toward. And since he's been aware of their return, he has ached to hear Caleb's voice, to feel his lips and his hands, to be assured of his survival in the most primal way possible.
Feeling Yussa's body react, the subtle way he tightens and tremors, is heady. These are signs of pleasure he cannot help or control, his honest response to what Caleb is doing to him. Cupping his breasts and tugging at his nipples, he looks on with hunger at the lovely, debauched display of his resting lover. He rolls his hips, withdrawing far enough to give them both a taste of hot, slick friction when he pushes back in.
"I should have come sooner," he says tightly. "I wanted to. You were so beautiful that day, standing above me draped in gold like a single ray of sun against the grey sky." There is a soft huff, a sharp exhale, as he nearly laughs at himself. "Maybe that is too close to bad poetry. But I did not know what would happen, and seeing you--I was reminded again why I wade into the flames."
Yussa doesn't need anyone to protect him. He is very capable of defending himself. But he'd sounded so worried--perhaps even frightened--when his voice came into Caleb's mind that day. It has probably been a long time, Caleb would guess, since a threat so powerful and imminent made itself known so close to home. There was plenty of reason for anyone to be scared.
But they are both alive and safe, and Caleb feels more free to confess what is on his heart during this tender, one-sided lovemaking than he might otherwise.
Gods, he can't. He can't listen and stay separate at the same time. He can't maintain his concentration when he's hit with something more than pure physical sensation. Yussa tries, knowing what this gives Caleb: a space in which he can do and say things he might normally refrain from. He wants to give his lover that. He can.
He tries to think instead of how charming he found it when Caleb flew up to his tower, bypassing the front door and Wensforth altogether. Impertinent, but charming. How far he's come from the terrified, paranoid young man he first met, one who could barely breathe in his presence for the fear of what if. Perhaps the only member of the Nein who realized how dangerous Yussa Errenis could be should he turn against them. And one of the two reasons why Yussa indulged at all, Caduceus Clay being the other. Caleb Widogast, waiting in thin air for him to appear, both to make a request and, perhaps, to say--not goodbye. Yussa doesn't think either of them would have tolerated that well.
Hope to see you next week, he'd said instead. Not quite a promise to return, but the hope that he would. The intention to try. Yussa sent him off with the only resources he had at the time that he knew would be of use. Caleb Widogast, even if there are things he is still learning, did not need spells from him.
His fingers twitch against the bed, but Yussa manages to keep himself under as Caleb fills him again and again. His cock is perfect, the hands toying with his breasts are perfect. Oh, what he'll do when he is awake.
Despite his active effort to pace himself, it is impossible to resist giving in at least a little. Yussa feels too good. The hot, silky walls of his cunt squeeze too perfectly around his cock, the wet sound of their fucking is too loud; he is perfectly pliant, willingly at his mercy, and utterly lovely. Caleb's rhythm picks up, not fast, but a step away from the slow, measured thrusts he was maintaining at first.
The sweat on his skin is cooled by the sea breeze wafting in from the open window. He can hear his own breathing becoming increasingly uneven. Yussa's breasts are soft and warm under his hands, and he takes to gripping them while the rough pad of his thumb rubs over his nipples. Preoccupied, he misses the subtle twitch of the elf's fingers entirely.
What will Yussa say to him when he wakes? Will he call him bold with that coy smirk of his and long lashes drooping low over eyes of molten gold? Will he feign surprise and playfully admonish him for taking liberties? Or will he obligingly allow it as his reward for returning to him alive and whole?
Anything is fine, so long as he can lay down beside him and hold him.
"I have missed you," he murmurs, and can't help a soft, throaty moan when he angles up on the next thrust. "I know it has not been long, but--oh, fuck, you feel good--"
Not what he was intending to say, but that doesn't matter. His hair hangs into his face as he leans down to kiss his lover's parted lips again, unable to resist the alluring softness of his mouth.
Caleb's pace falters, quickens, and Yussa loses his concentration as his lover whispers that he has missed him. He breathes in sharply and hiccups as Caleb gives a firm thrust. Yussa cannot even bring himself to pretend: his hand moves, gently gripping Caleb's arm as his legs draw in, tensing against his lover's hips.
A soft moan falls from his lips and Yussa arches closer, needing to feel Caleb as deep as he can. He feels the ridiculous urge to murmur an apology for breaking their game - he knows the freedom it offers Caleb. But the last time he saw this man, he'd been sailing off to a storm on the horizon, to a demi-god newly released. Caleb had gone into the storm, waded into the fire, and now he's back and in one piece. He waited, standing on his balcony and watching the sky roil miles away. He waited, unwilling to properly scry because he did not want to see--
He did not want to see the possibility the Nein would fail or have to retreat. But they did not.
And Yussa can finally exhale.
His other hand, trembling, reaches to stroke against Caleb's cheek as golden eyes finally open to drink in the sight of him.
The way Yussa begins to move is far too deliberate to be purely reactionary. As soon as his thighs close around his hips, Caleb knows he is awake. The moan that falls from his lips a moment later confirms it. Yussa arches, and Caleb's hands slip away from his breasts to wrap his arms around him instead, drawing him close. The sharp snap of his hips buries his cock deeper, and he shudders, making a soft, tight noise in the back of his throat.
Caleb is far from disappointed. He was hardly going to say much more that really matters, and there are some things to which he would very much like to hear Yussa's response. More than that, he just wants to hear his voice. He watches his lover's golden eyes flutter open, and the smile that overtakes his face is achingly soft.
"Oh," he whispers, "there you are." Chest tight with emotion, he kisses Yussa's forehead, then his lips again, short and almost chaste. "I have missed you," he repeats. "I said that I would see you next week, but I could not wait that long."
He said that he hoped he would, anyway. Thankfully, he survived to make good on their standing arrangement a little early.
His hands slide to cradle Caleb's face as he buries himself. He is rendered vulnerable by the look on his lover's face and the sweetness in his voice.
"I missed you," he murmurs, accent heavy. He almost cannot take the tenderness with which Caleb touches him. Yussa pulls the younger man down into a kiss, urgent and responsive this time as their mouths meet. "And I am glad you did not wait, Caleb Widogast."
Yussa lays back and takes a few seconds to adjust his position to tangle more with the man on top of him. His nails drag lightly down the back of Caleb's neck. His cunt tightens briefly around Caleb's cock his lover moves.
"Don't stop." They both need this. Perhaps more than either of them can properly articulate. This first, and then--then what is next will be next.
I missed you is such a simple confirmation, plain and uncomplicated; Caleb's heart soars to hear it. Wordless adoration passes from his lips to Yussa's as he's reeled down into another kiss. Yussa gradually comes awake beneath him, and every conscious movement of his body welcomes him closer, pulls him deeper, demands more, as though he'd stirred solely to show Caleb how wanted he is.
His breath catches, stutters. Yussa arches his back and stretches below him. His thighs ride up, sliding smoothly against Caleb's sides as he skims his nails down the back of his neck, causing a shiver all the way down his spine. The pressure and the change of angle make Caleb sink a little deeper, and he adjusts onto both elbows with a groan, covering him completely. Cradled so fully by Yussa's body, stopping is the furthest thing from his mind.
The sweetly simmering tension is much too good, and he snaps his hips forward sharply just to feel the slick give of Yussa's cunt, the flutter of his tight walls as he stretches so perfectly to receive him.
"No," he whispers hoarsely, a confirmation. "No, I--I need you. Yussa, please." There is no reason to beg when he is sheathed inside him already, stoking the fire between them with thrusts growing increasingly long and heavy. But what he needs is Yussa reaching for him, his responsiveness, his urgent affection pulling him in and holding him close. Their chests are close enough for him to feel Yussa's heartbeat. That is what he needs.
His hand slips to grip Caleb's arm, holding tight as his lover fucks him with long, hard thrusts. His other arm hooks around the younger man's shoulders, clinging to him as their bodies press close.
For a moment, Yussa's world narrows to just the space between them: their heavy breathing, the ease that familiarity brings as they move to meet each other, trying to get closer, deeper, more. Irrationally, he wants to berate Caleb for bolting off to fight an unknown danger on the horizon, for putting himself again between an impending doom and the rest of the world. But the words never escape, pushed back by a heavy moan as Caleb moves just right. Yussa shudders beneath him and manages to plant his foot against the bed, attempting to adjust the angle of his hips with Caleb's next firm thrust.
"Caleb--" His voice is tight and he can't finish the plea he starts. Perhaps he will be grateful for that later. His hand flicks behind Caleb's back and the pale lights in the room become a few degrees brighter, allowing them to see each other a bit better, close as they are.
The room brightens enough for Caleb to see Yussa's features more clearly. He isn't certain if what he reads there is accurate, or merely projection. But he can appreciate the cut-off gasp of his name and the way he pushes his hips up, finding just the right tilt for the deep, full thrusts Caleb has been seeking.
"Yes, there," he gasps softly. There is no need to speak louder when they are so close, nearly brow to brow, always merely a breath away from their next kiss. The molten pleasure in his gut spreads, warmth seeping through his body as he pins his lover to the bed and fucks him like it has been much longer than a few days. Yussa seeks to press closer wherever he can, as if the greedy grind of his cock isn't enough for him. Neither of them can get close enough.
"I won't go." This is the assurance he chooses to pant with what little breath he can spare for words because I missed you is still echoing in his head. "Just tell me to stay."
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He travels up the stairs with an effort put toward being quiet, as though Yussa really might be asleep. As he suspected, the door to Yussa's bedroom is slightly ajar. He pushes it open just enough for him to slip in and closes it behind him.
This room, too is awash in moonlight, cut through with the lattice's shadow. But there are a few other magelights glowing as well, which he assumes must be for his benefit. He knows Yussa doesn't sleep with them on. The man himself looks comfortable on his back in the middle of his bed, an arm draped across his middle. A long white nightgown that Caleb knows will be soft to the touch covers his warm brown skin, except where the buttons have been undone over his throat and down his chest. He is resting, but it is impossible to tell from here whether that means trancing or (feigned) sleep.
Tempting as it is to go to him at once, Caleb stops by the foot of the bed and begins to undress himself first. He makes no sound but the rustle of fabric or the occasional metallic scrape of a buckle releasing, muting himself for Yussa's sake, for the sake of this game. He strips all the way down to his smallclothes, which he doesn't intend to keep on for long either.
The scene before him, his lover dozing peacefully in the moonlight, is so idyllic that for a moment Caleb seriously considers abandoning his plans to instead curl up close to Yussa and join him in sleep. But he has set an expectation now, and Yussa's soft, relaxed state is appealing in other ways also.
Caleb merely sits on the edge of the bed at first. He is turned toward Yussa, but not quite touching him, a leg folded on the bed and the other foot still touching the floor. "Thank you for letting me in," he murmurs, voice almost quieter than when he'd Messaged. He doesn't expect a response. "Sorry about last time. I have been thinking about you since. Wanting to come back to make it up to you."
He touches the inside of Yussa's knee, a brush of fingertips where the hem of his long nightgown has slid up to pool there.
"I suppose you do not need to be awake for that. I would not wish to disturb you, after all."
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Yussa hasn't let himself slip into a full trance, but neither is he feigning his current state. Caleb's voice sounds distant, though clear, and the promise there sends a pleasant chill slithering up his back. They have not negotiated this beyond his own reassurance that he would like to do it again, that the experiment is worth repeating. He will see where this goes, try to gauge as best he can where Caleb wishes it to go. His body is already responding favorably to his lover's light touch. The sound of Caleb's voice alone can have that effect when the other man offers that deeper rasp that forever sounds like he is aching for something.
Unlike the last time they did this, Yussa is completely dressed down for a night of resting. Though he had not expected any company, there is nothing beneath the soft kaftan he's chosen to wear to bed.
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His touch is tender as he combs his fingers lightly through the other man's pale hair, pushing it back from his forehead. At the same time, the other hand slides up from his knee, reaching easily beneath the lightweight white fabric as he caresses along the inside of his thigh. The skin there is decadently soft and warm, and he takes his time feeling it against the rougher callouses of his hand. He bends forward to kiss his lover's brow, the press of dry lips light but lingering.
Caleb's own sharp inhale is the loudest sound in the room when he discovers, at the natural end of his hand's journey upwards, nothing at all keeping him from his goal. His fingers brush directly over warm, bare folds. A little gentle exploration finds a promising reaction to his touch already, as his fingertips come away wet.
His gaze rakes with unabashed desire down Yussa's body, allowed to look his fill without the pressure of Yussa looking back. He can't see what his hand is doing between the archmage's thighs, but touch is more than enough for now. Though he hasn't touched himself at all, he is peripherally aware of his own arousal, and how quickly it is progressing, the illicit thrill of the act like oil to a hungry flame.
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Caleb's touch is intimately familiar, and even if Yussa's breathing remains even and steady, his body responds eagerly. A warm flutter rushes through him as calloused fingertips find his bare cunt. Already he needs to decide how long he wants to keep himself under, how long he wants Caleb to get away with this. He remembers the thrill of the last time, the challenge of not breaking his trance while Caleb seemed intent on doing everything he could to shake it.
Cheeky. And desperately attractive.
Arousal trickles through him, growing from the glow he felt upon hearing Caleb's voice in his ear. Yussa is startled by how much he aches to touch him, but he will wait.
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"You know, those potions you gifted me proved very helpful," he murmurs, quiet and rasping and achingly fond. Knowing that Yussa can hear him (probably), but wanting to maintain the effort not to wake him. In contrast to the time before, he is intent on not interrupting his lover's slumber. "But it was more helpful still to be reminded of what I had to return to, and who would be waiting for me. I am glad I dropped by."
Three fingers rub firm but slow over his opening as his cunt grows wetter, spreading dripping slick over warm, swelling folds. He takes his time with his clit, stroking lightly down and over again and again before strumming more deliberately back and forth as he feels it stiffen against his fingers.
It is all done by touch alone, unhurried, but not in a way designed to withhold pleasure. As if Caleb could do this all night--as if he intends to.
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His breathing changes, though not so much as to suggest he might come out his trance. But his arousal is building with the steady rub of Caleb's fingers against his cunt, never slipping in to offer relief, only enough pressure to make him ache for it. And then they stroke across his clit with the same deliberate care. Yussa feels his cunt throb. It takes more effort than he thought it might on this second try to keep his hips still, to keep his body from shaking his concentration.
He wants to grab Caleb, to kiss him. But he has waited this long - he can wait longer while the younger man enjoys himself without the weight of Yussa's attention.
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His fingers crook, parting his folds and rubbing again over his entrance. This time, the middle one curls and pushes slowly inside, gently spreading hot, wet walls.
Caleb continues to count his own breaths as the rhythm of Yussa's gradually changes. He shifts on the bed, exceedingly careful not to jostle his elven companion, so that he can lean over him more easily. After another kiss to his brow, he presses one to the corner of his lips, and then finally full on the mouth. His finger strokes deeper as his tongue eases past pliant lips, tasting and exploring without demand.
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Even in a trance, he is very aware of Caleb's movements over and around him. He feels the presence of his lover just before a warm kiss touches his brow, then another on his mouth. Yussa's lips party effortlessly to the sweep of Caleb's tongue. His body, already as relaxed as it can be in this state of rest, seems to give further as Caleb fucks him without any rush. Arousal clouds his mind and holding onto his trance becomes a matter of will rather than practice.
It shouldn't be an effort of concentration, and yet Caleb is very quickly making it one. This is already somewhat different than the first time they tried this, but that makes it exciting. He cannot predict it.
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There is a soft wet noise when their lips part, and Caleb's breath catches sharply. He doesn't move away. Instead, he ducks his head to kiss as far down the older man's neck as his collar will allow, slow and warm and rough with the scrape of his beard. His other hand slides between them to Yussa's chest, where he finds a small, unbound breast to knead through the thin white fabric separating them, the soft flesh filling his palm.
A rough whisper in Zemnian scrapes his voice through its lowest register, but the words are sweet, affectionate. His wrist twists between Yussa's thighs, only a slight adjustment needed so he can press his thumb over his clit, putting firm pressure there while his fingers do the work of fucking into him.
Breathing in the familiar spice of Yussa's cologne, Caleb's eyes slip closed. This is a level of peace he hasn't experienced in some time, even before the events of the last week. There is no need to listen to anything but the silent demands of his lover's sleeping body, no need to consider anything but what he will do to satisfy them. He's ached to be with Yussa these last few days; he hadn't known how much it was needed.
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His cunt throbs as his lover's other hand palms his breast. The thin fabric of his robe brushes over his peaked nipple, sending a pleasant shiver through him. Caleb is assaulting him with pleasure, opening another front as his fingers shift inside him so that his thumb can stroke over his hard clit. He tightens briefly, core muscles beyond his control as the younger man works him toward his peak.
He should not be so surprised by Caleb's determination, or the effortless skill with which he pursues in. Yussa's head tips back against his pillow and he drags in a more ragged breath. He has no hope of holding out, of delaying the mounting pleasure. Not if he intends to keep his hold on his trance for a little while longer.
Muscles tremble and tense again as Caleb coaxes an orgasm out of him and Yussa sincerely doubts it will be the last of the night. Caleb has never been one to just quit.
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His fingers persist a little longer, allowing Yussa to ride that swell of sensation as long as he can. Then they pull out of him as slowly as they'd slid in.
At last, he allows himself to view his work. His clean hand slides the hem of Yussa's kaftan all the way up his thighs, the fabric folding over his hips. The sight of his glistening, flushed folds between splayed legs brings a rush of pride and satisfaction, but also pure, aching desire, reminding him of his own arousal. His cock strains at his smalls, and Caleb stands to remove them.
"I was considering prolonging things by using my mouth next," he murmurs, the first words he's spoken aloud in Common for some few minutes now. "But that will have to wait. I need you sooner."
When Caleb returns to the bed, it is to position himself kneeling between the archmage's legs, guiding them open further with gentle hands into a comfortable spread. His cock fits neatly along his slit, a slick, slow slide of his most sensitive nerves against Yussa's as he grips his hips for leverage. Precome beads at the tip and is quickly rubbed away against his clit, as mesmerizing to watch as it is to feel. His lover's swollen folds are soaked with his own arousal, and as he grinds against him, his shaft is soon slick with it too.
"You are perfect like this," Caleb tells him softly, fondly, voice breathless and rasping. He smiles, tired around the edges, but tender. "Relaxed and open, but still aching for more. It is not my intent to interrupt your rest, so I will go slow. But how could I resist you?"
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I need you. Thank the gods. Yussa realizes he needs Caleb, too.
His lover's hands are gentle as they adjust his position, spreading his thighs more to make room for himself. Yussa clings to his concentration, but he can feel Caleb's hot cock rubbing against his still-sensitive cunt. He can't pull away - not without breaking his trance - or reach to offer his hand, so he has to ride that edge. He isn't uncomfortable, it would take more vigorous use before that sets in. But he is sensitive, and that makes it difficult to ignore or dampen the delicious feeling of Caleb's cock teasing him.
He almost misses the sweet affection in Caleb's words, distracted by the easy friction of his lover grinding against him, making himself slick with the evidence of Yussa's arousal. He aches to reach for this man, but he can wait. He can give Caleb this and enjoy it himself.
How could he resist indeed? Yussa has been gratified to see more facets of this man the longer they know each other and he is enamored with Caleb's willingness to experiment and the sweetness he offers.
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The growing throb of heat in his body pushes him to continue before he winds up spilling all over Yussa's folds. Guiding the flushed head of his cock to his entrance, he presses inside with slow, aching care, as promised. It has been several weeks since they were last together this way, and while the tight grip of Yussa's cunt stretching for him feels dizzying, he takes his time working himself deeper to let his lover adjust. When Yussa cannot immediately voice his discomfort, he must be especially careful not to cause any.
The view as he does is spectacular. Between slender brown thighs, his already slick length grows wetter still as it glides in and out of the other man's tight opening, the drag back and forth against clinging walls becoming gradually easier. His breath stutters out of him, audibly edged with a moan, and he releases a hip so that deft fingers can begin undoing the buttons still keeping Yussa's nightgown closed.
"I know that you know exactly what is happening." He lowers his voice even further, a gravelly, panting scrape. "But I wonder if it would also thrill you to be unaware, and wake in the morning to an ache between your legs and evidence that your rest was not as uninterrupted as you thought."
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Cool air touches more of his skin as Caleb undoes the buttons. As the fabric parts and slides away, either with Caleb's guidance or just from the weight and fall of the fabric, another wave of shivers cascades through him, lighting him his nerves and threatening to wake him.
His lover's husky voice fills him with wicked thoughts, Yussa's mind racing to imagine such a scenario. What would it be like to wake - truly wake - with the soreness of being used? To wake to the feeling of come dripping from his cunt? He tightens briefly around the other man's cock on the next thrust inward.
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"Did you like that?" he asks now, husky and gently teasing. With enough buttons undone, he tugs open the front of Yussa's caftan to bare his breasts. Both hands slide up his slim torso to squeeze at the soft flesh, rolling peaked nipples between thumb and forefinger. "You have been on my mind for days. I would have you any way I could."
His hips meet Yussa's as he bottoms out, and again when he pulls back to repeat the motion, stroking slowly deep inside his cunt to spread his passage open for longer, smoother thrusts to come. He is pacing himself for both their sakes, trying to keep a handle on his eagerness and regulate his breathing. If he relinquished his self-control, he could easily bring himself to a swift finish. But that isn't what he wants. He wants to take his time, to enjoy the unbelievable gift that is Yussa quietly and passively permitting him to take his pleasure this way. It is too good to squander.
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Caleb's hips press against him as he pushes deep again and again; Yussa cannot spare himself that awareness, teetering still on the line between full consciousness and his trance. He can tell Caleb is pacing himself and that excites him as much as it tests him.
In truth, he too has been thinking of Caleb for days. Since the young man left his tower with a satchel full of potions, ones he was willing to spare with some idea of what his lover - and his friends - were rushing toward. And since he's been aware of their return, he has ached to hear Caleb's voice, to feel his lips and his hands, to be assured of his survival in the most primal way possible.
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"I should have come sooner," he says tightly. "I wanted to. You were so beautiful that day, standing above me draped in gold like a single ray of sun against the grey sky." There is a soft huff, a sharp exhale, as he nearly laughs at himself. "Maybe that is too close to bad poetry. But I did not know what would happen, and seeing you--I was reminded again why I wade into the flames."
Yussa doesn't need anyone to protect him. He is very capable of defending himself. But he'd sounded so worried--perhaps even frightened--when his voice came into Caleb's mind that day. It has probably been a long time, Caleb would guess, since a threat so powerful and imminent made itself known so close to home. There was plenty of reason for anyone to be scared.
But they are both alive and safe, and Caleb feels more free to confess what is on his heart during this tender, one-sided lovemaking than he might otherwise.
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He tries to think instead of how charming he found it when Caleb flew up to his tower, bypassing the front door and Wensforth altogether. Impertinent, but charming. How far he's come from the terrified, paranoid young man he first met, one who could barely breathe in his presence for the fear of what if. Perhaps the only member of the Nein who realized how dangerous Yussa Errenis could be should he turn against them. And one of the two reasons why Yussa indulged at all, Caduceus Clay being the other. Caleb Widogast, waiting in thin air for him to appear, both to make a request and, perhaps, to say--not goodbye. Yussa doesn't think either of them would have tolerated that well.
Hope to see you next week, he'd said instead. Not quite a promise to return, but the hope that he would. The intention to try. Yussa sent him off with the only resources he had at the time that he knew would be of use. Caleb Widogast, even if there are things he is still learning, did not need spells from him.
His fingers twitch against the bed, but Yussa manages to keep himself under as Caleb fills him again and again. His cock is perfect, the hands toying with his breasts are perfect. Oh, what he'll do when he is awake.
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The sweat on his skin is cooled by the sea breeze wafting in from the open window. He can hear his own breathing becoming increasingly uneven. Yussa's breasts are soft and warm under his hands, and he takes to gripping them while the rough pad of his thumb rubs over his nipples. Preoccupied, he misses the subtle twitch of the elf's fingers entirely.
What will Yussa say to him when he wakes? Will he call him bold with that coy smirk of his and long lashes drooping low over eyes of molten gold? Will he feign surprise and playfully admonish him for taking liberties? Or will he obligingly allow it as his reward for returning to him alive and whole?
Anything is fine, so long as he can lay down beside him and hold him.
"I have missed you," he murmurs, and can't help a soft, throaty moan when he angles up on the next thrust. "I know it has not been long, but--oh, fuck, you feel good--"
Not what he was intending to say, but that doesn't matter. His hair hangs into his face as he leans down to kiss his lover's parted lips again, unable to resist the alluring softness of his mouth.
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A soft moan falls from his lips and Yussa arches closer, needing to feel Caleb as deep as he can. He feels the ridiculous urge to murmur an apology for breaking their game - he knows the freedom it offers Caleb. But the last time he saw this man, he'd been sailing off to a storm on the horizon, to a demi-god newly released. Caleb had gone into the storm, waded into the fire, and now he's back and in one piece. He waited, standing on his balcony and watching the sky roil miles away. He waited, unwilling to properly scry because he did not want to see--
He did not want to see the possibility the Nein would fail or have to retreat. But they did not.
And Yussa can finally exhale.
His other hand, trembling, reaches to stroke against Caleb's cheek as golden eyes finally open to drink in the sight of him.
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Caleb is far from disappointed. He was hardly going to say much more that really matters, and there are some things to which he would very much like to hear Yussa's response. More than that, he just wants to hear his voice. He watches his lover's golden eyes flutter open, and the smile that overtakes his face is achingly soft.
"Oh," he whispers, "there you are." Chest tight with emotion, he kisses Yussa's forehead, then his lips again, short and almost chaste. "I have missed you," he repeats. "I said that I would see you next week, but I could not wait that long."
He said that he hoped he would, anyway. Thankfully, he survived to make good on their standing arrangement a little early.
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"I missed you," he murmurs, accent heavy. He almost cannot take the tenderness with which Caleb touches him. Yussa pulls the younger man down into a kiss, urgent and responsive this time as their mouths meet. "And I am glad you did not wait, Caleb Widogast."
Yussa lays back and takes a few seconds to adjust his position to tangle more with the man on top of him. His nails drag lightly down the back of Caleb's neck. His cunt tightens briefly around Caleb's cock his lover moves.
"Don't stop." They both need this. Perhaps more than either of them can properly articulate. This first, and then--then what is next will be next.
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His breath catches, stutters. Yussa arches his back and stretches below him. His thighs ride up, sliding smoothly against Caleb's sides as he skims his nails down the back of his neck, causing a shiver all the way down his spine. The pressure and the change of angle make Caleb sink a little deeper, and he adjusts onto both elbows with a groan, covering him completely. Cradled so fully by Yussa's body, stopping is the furthest thing from his mind.
The sweetly simmering tension is much too good, and he snaps his hips forward sharply just to feel the slick give of Yussa's cunt, the flutter of his tight walls as he stretches so perfectly to receive him.
"No," he whispers hoarsely, a confirmation. "No, I--I need you. Yussa, please." There is no reason to beg when he is sheathed inside him already, stoking the fire between them with thrusts growing increasingly long and heavy. But what he needs is Yussa reaching for him, his responsiveness, his urgent affection pulling him in and holding him close. Their chests are close enough for him to feel Yussa's heartbeat. That is what he needs.
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For a moment, Yussa's world narrows to just the space between them: their heavy breathing, the ease that familiarity brings as they move to meet each other, trying to get closer, deeper, more. Irrationally, he wants to berate Caleb for bolting off to fight an unknown danger on the horizon, for putting himself again between an impending doom and the rest of the world. But the words never escape, pushed back by a heavy moan as Caleb moves just right. Yussa shudders beneath him and manages to plant his foot against the bed, attempting to adjust the angle of his hips with Caleb's next firm thrust.
"Caleb--" His voice is tight and he can't finish the plea he starts. Perhaps he will be grateful for that later. His hand flicks behind Caleb's back and the pale lights in the room become a few degrees brighter, allowing them to see each other a bit better, close as they are.
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"Yes, there," he gasps softly. There is no need to speak louder when they are so close, nearly brow to brow, always merely a breath away from their next kiss. The molten pleasure in his gut spreads, warmth seeping through his body as he pins his lover to the bed and fucks him like it has been much longer than a few days. Yussa seeks to press closer wherever he can, as if the greedy grind of his cock isn't enough for him. Neither of them can get close enough.
"I won't go." This is the assurance he chooses to pant with what little breath he can spare for words because I missed you is still echoing in his head. "Just tell me to stay."
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