Yussa shudders as Caleb's tongue works against his fingers, then sweeps higher. Even with the tension of his pleasure running through him, the archmage starts to get weak over the dragon's leg. It's a slow process, even with a partner so magnificent as this. Caleb's had him like this a few times since the first in the Feywild, but not recently.
Allowing his mind to go blank save for the most immediate, fleeting thoughts and sensations, Yussa moves his hips, trying to work between Caleb's tongue and his own fingers. He shifts and manages to get his knee up on the dragon's leg, opening him more to display even if Caleb can't see him given their proximity and his size. He's got a vivid imagination and will surely know the new position even if he can't see it. It also ensures that Caleb is supporting him almost entirely, one foot still on the stone floor for the sake of balance.
Yussa moans heavily as the dragons thick tongue finally licks inside him, pressing enough to ease his body into yielding. His entire body shivers and he bites his lip, trying to restrain a louder sound as Caleb's tongue slowly pushes deeper.
"Don't stop," he urges, ever impatient when he is overwhelmed.
Always, it has been his tongue doing the wordless convincing to put Yussa in the mood to be taken this way, and tonight is no different. The few times Caleb has been lucky enough to find himself in this position, Yussa yields and relaxes beneath his mouth, and as though reminded all over again of just how much he enjoys this particular act, quickly becomes eager. It's a wonder that he can forget; Caleb has learned that if there is one thing that is certain to leave Yussa a twitching, trembling mess, it's having his ass fucked.
While he may not be able to see him well, Caleb aches with the image he conjures in his mind of Yussa as he must be sprawled over him now, leg lifted to grant Caleb all the access he needs. This vision of him shamelessly offering himself, demanding that the dragon working his ass open on his tongue continue without pause, is vivid in Caleb's mind, aided by the scent and the taste of him filling his other senses. He wants to look. But he's been told not to stop, and so he won't.
Caleb licks into him deeper, feeling the tight heat of Yussa's body surround his tongue as he gradually yields. He presses against his walls with firmer strokes, slicking his insides and making space within him, spreading his hole until it is pliant enough to accept him easily.
There is something especially rewarding about claiming him this way, because of the delicacy and patience it takes to do it well. Caleb hums with satisfaction, the vibration resonating in the chamber of his chest. His tongue stretches and curls and withdraws and licks in again, a rhythm that changes as Yussa sweetly loosens for him, rewarding him with more.
The tension slowly dissolves from him, until he is draped over Caleb's foreleg just accepting everything the dragon gives him. It so rarely occurs to him to ask for this and it is even rarer for him to offer without prompting, but as in so many things, Caleb seems to have no trouble finding ways to earn his delirious encouragement and permission. He has never once regretted it.
Yussa rests his cheek against warm scales as his lover's thick tongue works him open, with firm, measured thrusts that become easier and easier as he goes on.
Yussa pushes three of his fingers into his cunt and moans helplessly when he feels the pressure of Caleb's tongue through the thin walls of his body. He shudders beneath the dragon, his free hand gripping tight as tension rolls through him. He is given more and more as his body yields. Yussa's fingers slip from his body to rub over his clit, stroking wetly. They glide down again over his folds, squeezing them between soaked fingers before he pushes them back inside his waiting cunt.
He repeats this until a particularly delicious stroke of Caleb's tongue sends him over the edge of the peak that's been building. Yussa arches, thighs quivering with renewed tension as his orgasm breaks like a wave. Perhaps he might have lasted longer were he not already so overheated. He moans loudly, wordlessly, as goes tight around Caleb's tongue and his own fingers.
There is a feeling of triumph as Caleb feels his lover gradually melt against him, slack and trusting--not so dissimilar to while he was trancing. There is a small shift when Yussa slips a hand between his thighs to press his fingers into his cunt--Caleb can feel the motion against his tongue as he fucks himself. But he is entirely relaxed otherwise, the only tension building in his body a result of his pleasure.
He can hear the wet sounds of Yussa's fingers playing through his folds and pushing inside himself, and though he wishes he could see, he can imagine it quite clearly--recalling an evening where Yussa touched himself this way as Caleb thrust smoothly into his ass after long, careful preparation.
The growl Caleb gives as he comes is low and pleased, rewarded for his efforts by the tight squeeze of his body around the slick thrust of his tongue and a particularly lovely moan. Rather than wait out the shuddering tension after his peak, Caleb withdraws his tongue slowly only to flicker over his folds, licking at his soaked entrance, stretched around the fingers buried in his cunt. Gods, he tastes good.
But before Yussa can come back to himself entirely, the dragon's tongue leaves him as Caleb lifts his head, finally affording himself the view he's been missing. His elven lover looks utterly debauched and utterly gorgeous draped over his foreleg's blue scales, well-fucked and dripping with the dragon's saliva and his own slick.
Yussa lays there, breathing hard as Caleb withdraws. He leaves his fingers in his cunt, feeling it pulse around them as he slowly comes down from the height of his pleasure. It's impossible not to notice that Caleb is looking at him, taking a moment to specifically admire his handiwork. For his benefit, Yussa spreads his fingers as he draws them out of his cunt.
After a few minutes, Yussa moves enough that he can look at the dragon.
"Have you enjoyed yourself?" he asks, voice soft and heavy. He hasn't counted the minutes, though he's sure Caleb knows exactly how much time he has left in this shape. But--
"I'm not sure how much further satisfaction you'll find like this, my dear. Care to join me in a more manageable size?"
The purr-like rumbling from his chest must be enough to indicate his answer. This has been enjoyable indeed, despite the prominent ache of his own arousal. The dragon's instinctive desire to fuck hasn't abated just because Caleb knows logically how unlikely that is. It makes him restless and impatient in the way he usually isn't as a human. He's spent entire evenings between Yussa's legs without expecting reciprocation. In this shape, he doesn't think he could do that. Thankfully, the spell only lasts an hour, anyway.
Glowing with quiet happiness at my dear, Caleb grins a draconic grin and releases the spell at Yussa's invitation. The power slips from his grasp and dissipates, and he grows small, breathes into much less impressive lungs, senses changed--and in many ways, dulled.
Forty-one minutes after becoming a blue dragon, a human Caleb Widogast holds Yussa in his arms. Still wearing only his trousers, he kneels on the courtyard's cool stone and gathers his lover closer, greedily kissing his brow, his ears, his cheeks now that he has the use of his lips again.
"You must know that I would have happily spent another twenty minutes eating you out as a dragon, regardless of what satisfaction I'd find."
Yussa smiles as the world shifts, and within a few moments he's in very familiar human arms. He tips his head toward his lover's lips as they press kisses everywhere he can reach. It feels good to be held like this again, the dragon was impressive and attractive, but Caleb as a man holds the most appeal.
"Of that I have no doubt," he answers, smug amusement in his voice. Yussa reaches for Caleb to guide him into a full kiss. "And while the novelty and thrill are delightful, you are far more attractive like this."
He kisses Caleb again as his hand drops to feel the front of the younger man's trousers.
Caleb is still smiling as Yussa draws him into a proper kiss, and it only grows when told he's more attractive this way. Of course, novelty and thrill is exactly what he was going for, but it is still nice to hear that Yussa likes him best as himself.
He's so elated that he can nearly forget about his blunder earlier. But that wouldn't be a wise thing to do, lest all of Yussa's compliments and affection lull him into repeating it.
His unabashed moan at the pressure against his neglected cock breaks this next kiss. Beneath Yussa's hand, his erection is prominent, tenting the front of his trousers. His state of arousal has very much carried over from one body to another, it seems--which is a detail of interest from a spell mechanics standpoint that he can't help taking note of.
"Would you not prefer to go inside for this?" he pants, arms tightening around the other man's smaller body.
"No," he murmurs. Nimble fingers get Caleb's pants open and it doesn't take Yussa long to free the other man's cock from his smalls. Fingers still slightly damp with his own slick, Yussa gives Caleb a slow stroke. "Would you?"
As he asks, Yussa shifts to straddle Caleb's lap properly and his other hand cradles Caleb's face. Even he is surprised by his own insistence here - he's just been thoroughly wrung out by a dragon of all things, and yet now that he has Caleb in his arms, he wants to give himself all over again.
His fingers stroke along Caleb's cheek and into his hair in a tender gesture. Here in the moonlit courtyard, both of them are bathed in pale light. Yussa realizes it's not all that different from the evening Caleb hovered outside the tower, seeking his help or--just him. No, surely the latter. He had little to give then.
If he had any inclination to move elsewhere, he loses it the moment Yussa draws his cock free. His fingers are still wet. Caleb licks his lips, shaking his head. "No."
He feels like he has been put into a trance. Yussa settles over his lap, surprisingly graceful for all that he has just been willingly subjected to, and touches his face with gentle insistence. His fingers push into his hair, fond and familiar. Caleb's hands both rest at the small of his back, keeping him close, but allowing him to move freely, and he looks at his dear friend with nothing short of wonder.
Mindful of how his words have already gotten away from him tonight, Caleb opts to say nothing aloud, and kisses him instead. In a kiss he can say all he would have aloud without admitting to any of it. He surrenders to how stricken he is with love for this man, yet even his helpless hunger retains a veneer of plausible deniability. A thin one, yes, but at least he isn't offering to stay like the lovesick fool upstairs.
It's easy to get swept up in that kiss. Caleb has a way of making himself clear even when he won't speak and it makes something in Yussa tremble with its yearning and hunger. All at once he feels he needs to control this and let it happen, and he can't do both, can he? Something in his chest aches for this man. If he keeps this up, Caleb won't leave tonight.
Just tell me to stay.
Yussa lifts his head with a soft gasp and his fingers tighten in Caleb's hair. He leans close, lips against the younger man's ear. His nails scrape gently against the back of Caleb's neck and he gently teases Caleb's earlobe with his teeth.
"How do you want me?" he murmurs, voice low and accent heavy. "You've made me very ready everywhere, I will let you choose."
Caleb physically shudders, a tremor from his neck all the way down to his legs, as Yussa holds onto his hair and speaks into his ear with a voice like velvet, dark and soft. He shuts his eyes and lets that voice envelop him. His mouth hangs open, red and wet. His breathing audible and uneven.
Gods, Yussa putting that choice into his hands is so fucking hot. His hands stroke down his back, resting on the swell of his ass.
He knows exactly how ready he's made him; how he worked at his tight rim until it was soft and pliant, how he fucked his tongue deeper inside him than his cock will likely reach, slicking and stretching his walls. He couldn't possibly pass that up.
"I want to fuck your ass," he murmurs, feeling his face heat even though he is fairly sure that Yussa must be anticipating this answer. Though they have done it a time or two since the Feywild, it remains an exceedingly rare occurrence. Still, it seems such a shame to neglect his cunt--and perhaps he doesn't have to. "But perhaps I could impress you with a little more magic tonight?"
Yussa smiles against Caleb's ear and gives him a rewarding stroke, gently twisting his hand as he does. His palm rubs over the wet head of Caleb's cock and he feels a shiver deep inside him. Perhaps it will not reach as deep as the dragon's tongue, but Caleb's cock has never disappointed him.
The way Caleb's breathing changes, soft and ragged, makes his coy offer entirely worth it. Even if he cannot quite see the younger man's face, Yussa knows his lips are parted and his eyes are likely closed. Caleb's answer doesn't surprise him, given the rare opportunities he's had. Yussa has never known him to pass up something once offered - or gently forced upon him, in some cases.
"I will never tell you not to impress me, Caleb Widogast." Of all his lovers, Caleb has been one of the few to so easily merge magic and sex, to see the utility of one for the other. Yussa certainly finds it exciting and, sometimes, eminently practical.
"Do I need to move?" He isn't sure what Caleb is planning, but there are easier positions for Caleb to have him as he wants him.
He is always seeking to impress, and Yussa is always delighted to be impressed; it works quite well for them.
"Yes," Caleb says, reluctantly. "For this, it would be best if we went inside after all. The sitting room would be fine." What he really needs is somewhere soft to lay down, or to kneel--the chaise would do the job.
The last thing he wants is to give up the rewarding grip of Yussa's hand around him--unless it is to replace it with something else--but stone will be hard on the back and the knees, and he wants them both to be very comfortable for this. It's an idea that has been stewing in the back of his mind since an offhand mention in the Feywild in the heat of things. Yussa seemed to find the idea, and similar ones, appealing.
"Then I concede." Yussa sighs softly, but then a coy smile flickers across his mouth and he leans to kiss Caleb again, as if he needs to take his fill for the short trip inside. He gives his lover one more stroke before he pulls away, making himself get up. Yussa finds his discarded kaftan and pulls it on, though he doesn't bother to button it.
He offers Caleb a hand, bracing himself to help him up. Yussa feels a pleasant shiver once his lover is on his feet again, standing over him and quite close. Once he's certain Caleb is steady, Yussa lightly touches his chest, then heads inside through the open door leading to the sitting room. There's a chaise there that's quickly becoming a feature in their love life, and Yussa might be inclined to blush every time he had company if he were younger.
Thankfully, he isn't.
Yussa flicks a hand as they slip inside and a few lamps light around the room, providing soft, warm light for Caleb's sake.
Caleb accepted some time ago that convincing himself out of loving Yussa was never going to be an option. Yet again, he is reminded of why. He can't get enough of him, and it at times, it really seems like Yussa feels the same. It is genuinely difficult to part, even knowing they are headed for something Caleb is looking forward to, when Yussa kisses him so coyly and so sweetly, and leaves him with a parting stroke that nearly makes him drag him back into his lap.
He takes his offered hand instead, and is assisted up to his feet. Yussa may be significantly smaller, but Caleb is still far from heavy. In the moment they linger there together, Caleb thinks of kissing him again, drawn to him as he always is, but that wouldn't get them anywhere. Yussa is right to turn and lead the way, though not without leaving Caleb with a little more warmth to carry with him.
Standing in Tidepeak's lavish sitting room while the tower's brilliant and attractive master, clad only in an open kaftan, lights the lamps for him is a truly surreal experience. Part of him still questions how he could possibly deserve this. Even dressed so simply, Yussa clearly belongs here; in the lamplight, he is golden and ethereal, his bare body a work of art. Erotic art, certainly; Caleb could never see him this way and not want him, wholly and completely. His cock, tucked back into his smalls, aches with the full weight of that desire.
But this is not his place. Yussa invites him into it, but only for a time. Of course he could never stay.
He must make his visits count, then. Moving to the older man with a few measured steps, Caleb reaches for him, drawing him close with hands sliding beneath the loose fabric he wears. He loves that he towers over him when they stand so close. He loves that he has to lean down to kiss him, warm and gently smiling. Fingers splay over his back, and others cover his hip, drawing him closer as Caleb kisses him deeper. A kiss, again, in lieu of words.
Yussa looks back at Caleb, admiring him in the warm glow. The color of his hair is deep and vivid in this light, his pale skin a softer contrast. He's still caught in his admiration when Caleb comes to him and gathers him up. Yussa leans up onto the balls of his feet as the other man's hands hold him at his back and his hip. Gods, he should not want Caleb as much as he does - especially not after being so thoroughly satisfied a few times over tonight. But he does. And the kiss is so much more than an embrace, he knows. He tries to give back as much as he can in the same manner.
He presses as close as he can, thrilled by the places their bodies touch. He can feel Caleb's warm, bare skin against his and he longs to spend the rest of the night this way, even if it is just laying quietly in his bed with Caleb Widogast holding him.
When the kiss breaks, Yussa stays as he is. Keeping his heels off the floor means compromising his balance a bit, but he trusts Caleb won't let him wobble. He looks up at the other man, golden eyes dark and warm as he meets Caleb's gaze. Delicate fingers stroke gently along his lover's cheek and he leans close for another kiss.
Proving worthy of Yussa's trust without knowing it, Caleb holds him steady as he balances on the balls of his feet, gathered close against his chest by the arm around his back. He holds Yussa's soft gaze with his own, sighing happily between them as his fingers follow the line of his beard, before meeting him again in a slow, simmering kiss.
This is why he'd wanted to stay. He feels cared for here in a way that he's found nowhere else. How could he not want that every day?
"I know that you must have some obsidian around here somewhere," he murmurs when their lips part, curling into a coy little grin that manages to be apologetic without being the least bit sorry. "I left my components upstairs."
That may be enough for Yussa to guess at his intent. It was some time ago now, and Yussa had been beside himself with inexhaustible arousal from a potent aphrodisiac when he'd used the spell, but it would be hard to forget. He was in his right mind the next day, at least, when Caleb explained it as much as he could without breaking the confidence of the spell's original author.
"Ah... as it so happens." Yussa lowers himself before he pulls away. His kaftan flutters as he moves; he still hasn't bothered to button it and he makes no move to do so now as he goes to one of the book cases against the nearest wall.
His fingers hover they pass over books and boxes until he finds what he's looking for. He takes one of the boxes down and flips open the lid. He makes a soft, satisfied sound when he finds what he's looking for. The box is returned to its place. Yussa returns to Caleb and presents a decently sized piece of obsidian, edges rough and potentially sharp given the way it's broken.
"Will this do?" he asks as he lets Caleb take it for inspection. Yussa plucks up a cup from a nearby table and takes a sip of the cold tea in it.
Yussa slips from his arms, and Caleb watches after him, admiring and fond, as he combs his bookcases until he finds what he seeks. His body, revealed tantalizing glimpses, is lovely as ever to look at, and his casual comfort with Caleb's presence fills his chest with warmth.
The cool, jagged dark stone he accepts from Yussa is just what he is looking for. He turns it around in his fingers, gripping it between index and thumb.
"Nicely," he confirms, lips quirking up a little further as his eyes lift to find Yussa idly sipping at a cup of cold tea he'd likely forgotten there earlier in the day. Everything this man does, it seems, endears him further. But that is what being in love will do, he supposes. "This is exactly what I need."
Without further delay, he casts, murmuring the requisite phrase in sibilant Undercommon, so far removed from his native tongue. The edge of the obsidian cuts through the air with a sharp gesture, leaving behind a tear in time in space from which a dark, filmy substance begins to leak. It quickly forms legs, arms, a torso, a head, until an identical but shadowy Caleb Widogast stands beside the original.
"You remember this spell, I assume," says Caleb. His echo mirrors his smile.
It's fascinating to see Caleb cast the spell; Yussa pays close attention and notes both the verbal and somatic elements. The echo appears and he takes a steadying breath.
"Yes, I could not forget such a unique spell."
Yusss steps back toward his chaise and shrugs out of his kaftan. He doubts he will be needing it any time soon. He looks again at his lover and the echo, curious and excited by the chance to experience this with a clearer mind.
"How do you want me?" he asks, intentionally coy. He does not ask about moving to another location: they are here now, the echo is here, and the chaise is quite sturdy and wide enough for two bodies at least.
Yussa continues to defer to him, and it continues to make Caleb's pulse race with excitement. Already starting to shuck his trousers again, he nods toward the chaise.
"Kneel there toward the middle, bitte."
His echo doesn't need to spend time disrobing; with a thought, Caleb's greyscale double is bare, clothing melting away to disperse back into the ether. For his part, Caleb leaves trousers and smalls on the floor, and slides onto the chaise to join Yussa. Kneeling as well, he crowds up behind him, wrapping a pale, lean arm around his middle and kissing playfully from shoulder to neck. Against the curve of his ass, Caleb's other hand gives his cock a few quick strokes with a newly slick palm. In these circumstances, prestidigitation will do.
"It may be worthwhile to start leaving oil down here, hmm?" he suggests in a low rumble, smiling as he kisses the shell of a pointed ear. Considering how frequently they've wound up in this room, he might be only half teasing.
The chaise cushion dips as his echo joins them--that the spell denotes physical mass when summoned it for this purpose is interesting--and takes his place at Yussa's front. Knowing what Caleb intends, his shadowy hands cover the elf's hips, bracing, and he looks down into his--their?--lover's face with a warmth and recognition that belies the coolness of his touch.
He kneels on the chaise as he's been directed. Heat flushes his cheeks as Caleb presses up behind him and he can feel his lover's cock against him as the other man strokes himself.
"That would suggest I approve," he says as primly as he can manage. Even as he says it, Yussa reaches back to drape his arm around Caleb's neck as best he can as the echo, now undressed, joins them on the chaise. Yussa watches with intent interest even as Caleb kisses his ear. The shadow's hands are cool on his hips, but firm, as it braces Yussa for what is surely next. It's strange to see his lover's expressions - which he knows so intimately now - reflected in this echo's face. Every detail is as it should be, save for the lack of color.
Yussa shifts slightly, confident that he will not lose balance, and lets his knees slide further apart to ensure both men have whatever access they need. His heart is pounding again with a rush of excitement. Though he has seen the echo before, this is new, and he cannot help the fevered memory of the Feywild when Caleb proposed--something like this.
Yussa's interest in the echo, fascinated by it even as Caleb is about to use it to fuck him senseless, brings a smile to Caleb's lips where they still press against the other wizard's ear. "This from the man who would have been happy to continue in the courtyard," he teases slyly, grinning.
The echo crowds closer, leaving very little space for Yussa between them, and bows forward to collect the elf's upper body in his arms, lifting him up rather than down, braced against its shadowy chest. Caleb knows the echo to be cool to the touch, which he imagines must feel quite nice against Yussa's heated skin. The places the echo bumps against him, knees and thighs nudging into the same space, hands and arms inevitably brushing, feels like touching clear, fresh water. Together they position their lover between them, shuffling a foot or so back on the chaise and turning so that Yussa might glimpse his ravishing in the slim decorative mirror across from them.
"Lift your knees, schatz," Caleb advises, breath growing ragged again. Stabilizing, gripping, they figure out the orientation; Caleb only finally presses in once he has Yussa angled perfectly. The forward-and-up press of his hips is careful, but unrelenting. He holds his breath as slowly, Yussa's exhaustingly tight body takes him to the very hilt, until the curve of his ass is nestled flush against his lap, legs spread primly over his. Caleb's forehead drops down against a slim brown shoulder with a chest-deep moan. The ease of this first thrust can probably be attributed to thoroughly licking him open with a dragon's tongue, but getting to take his lover's ass is rare enough that the novelty scatters his brain nearly as much as the sensation.
When the three of them shift just enough to move him within Yussa's body, Caleb lifts his head to see that it is because the echo has reached down into the inch of space between his hips and Yussa's. Caleb has a lovely view over the older man's shoulder as the echo touches his cock, dense and dark as space, to Yussa's clit. Rubs them together with a hand guiding the head, lightly. Up and down, side to side. He guides his cock to Yussa's folds, sliding over them, between them, but never pushing in, though Caleb can hear how wet he is.
Waiting to be given permission, of course. The echo may be him in a sense, but it still follows the orders of its caster, like any other arcane construct.
"Do you think you can take us together?" he asks Yussa, a husky whisper close to his ear. If they've come this far, it's obvious that the answer is yes; Yussa knows what they are doing here. But the conceit of asking, drawing out the anticipation, is thrilling, especially while already buried to the root in his ass. Despite taking its directives from Caleb, the echo's attention is on Yussa, colorless grey eyes intent on his expression. He swallows the strangeness of looking at his own face and seeing desire writ so clearly there. "Tell him what you want," Caleb encourages sweetly, "and he will do it."
Yussa moves between the two bodies, intimately familiar mirrors of one another, as they adjust the position. He glances to the side when he catches sight of movement and realizes it's their reflections in a mirror. Heat throbs through him and he closes his eyes for just a moment as the echo holds him, coaxes him into position. It's overwhelming to be trapped between them. He lifts his knees with Caleb's coaxing and there's a bit of adjusting after that, but then Caleb is able to take him. His lips part in a silent gasp as his lover pushes deep. Gods, regardless of preparation he still feels full and tight around Caleb's cock. A low sound, almost a whimper, rises in the back of his throat as the echo rubs against him.
The strangest part - or perhaps one of the thrilling aspects - is that the echo feels so much cooler than the man pressed up against him. His cock is not hot as it rubs against his clit and teases slick folds without ever pushing in. Caleb's voice against his ear is low and perfect and the question alone sends another shiver through him. It takes Yussa a moment to collect himself enough to manage an answer.
"Yes," he breathes, just as quiet. He doesn't need to be loud pressed between them like this. Yussa tenses briefly the next time the echo's cock rubs against his hard clit. His golden eyes focus on the echo in front of him, and it is strange to realize it is looking at him with an intensity that matches Caleb's own. Chills race across his skin and he takes a sharp breath as he's directed to tell the echo what to do. What he wants.
The thought has crossed his mind half a dozen times since the very long day with the side effects of certain components, and again after the strange adventure in the pocket of the Feywild in the Sphere. But having the possibility staring him down still feels surreal. He doesn't look away from the strange-but-familiar grey eyes.
"Fuck me," he whispers. "I want to be full of you."
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Allowing his mind to go blank save for the most immediate, fleeting thoughts and sensations, Yussa moves his hips, trying to work between Caleb's tongue and his own fingers. He shifts and manages to get his knee up on the dragon's leg, opening him more to display even if Caleb can't see him given their proximity and his size. He's got a vivid imagination and will surely know the new position even if he can't see it. It also ensures that Caleb is supporting him almost entirely, one foot still on the stone floor for the sake of balance.
Yussa moans heavily as the dragons thick tongue finally licks inside him, pressing enough to ease his body into yielding. His entire body shivers and he bites his lip, trying to restrain a louder sound as Caleb's tongue slowly pushes deeper.
"Don't stop," he urges, ever impatient when he is overwhelmed.
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While he may not be able to see him well, Caleb aches with the image he conjures in his mind of Yussa as he must be sprawled over him now, leg lifted to grant Caleb all the access he needs. This vision of him shamelessly offering himself, demanding that the dragon working his ass open on his tongue continue without pause, is vivid in Caleb's mind, aided by the scent and the taste of him filling his other senses. He wants to look. But he's been told not to stop, and so he won't.
Caleb licks into him deeper, feeling the tight heat of Yussa's body surround his tongue as he gradually yields. He presses against his walls with firmer strokes, slicking his insides and making space within him, spreading his hole until it is pliant enough to accept him easily.
There is something especially rewarding about claiming him this way, because of the delicacy and patience it takes to do it well. Caleb hums with satisfaction, the vibration resonating in the chamber of his chest. His tongue stretches and curls and withdraws and licks in again, a rhythm that changes as Yussa sweetly loosens for him, rewarding him with more.
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Yussa rests his cheek against warm scales as his lover's thick tongue works him open, with firm, measured thrusts that become easier and easier as he goes on.
Yussa pushes three of his fingers into his cunt and moans helplessly when he feels the pressure of Caleb's tongue through the thin walls of his body. He shudders beneath the dragon, his free hand gripping tight as tension rolls through him. He is given more and more as his body yields. Yussa's fingers slip from his body to rub over his clit, stroking wetly. They glide down again over his folds, squeezing them between soaked fingers before he pushes them back inside his waiting cunt.
He repeats this until a particularly delicious stroke of Caleb's tongue sends him over the edge of the peak that's been building. Yussa arches, thighs quivering with renewed tension as his orgasm breaks like a wave. Perhaps he might have lasted longer were he not already so overheated. He moans loudly, wordlessly, as goes tight around Caleb's tongue and his own fingers.
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He can hear the wet sounds of Yussa's fingers playing through his folds and pushing inside himself, and though he wishes he could see, he can imagine it quite clearly--recalling an evening where Yussa touched himself this way as Caleb thrust smoothly into his ass after long, careful preparation.
The growl Caleb gives as he comes is low and pleased, rewarded for his efforts by the tight squeeze of his body around the slick thrust of his tongue and a particularly lovely moan. Rather than wait out the shuddering tension after his peak, Caleb withdraws his tongue slowly only to flicker over his folds, licking at his soaked entrance, stretched around the fingers buried in his cunt. Gods, he tastes good.
But before Yussa can come back to himself entirely, the dragon's tongue leaves him as Caleb lifts his head, finally affording himself the view he's been missing. His elven lover looks utterly debauched and utterly gorgeous draped over his foreleg's blue scales, well-fucked and dripping with the dragon's saliva and his own slick.
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After a few minutes, Yussa moves enough that he can look at the dragon.
"Have you enjoyed yourself?" he asks, voice soft and heavy. He hasn't counted the minutes, though he's sure Caleb knows exactly how much time he has left in this shape. But--
"I'm not sure how much further satisfaction you'll find like this, my dear. Care to join me in a more manageable size?"
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Glowing with quiet happiness at my dear, Caleb grins a draconic grin and releases the spell at Yussa's invitation. The power slips from his grasp and dissipates, and he grows small, breathes into much less impressive lungs, senses changed--and in many ways, dulled.
Forty-one minutes after becoming a blue dragon, a human Caleb Widogast holds Yussa in his arms. Still wearing only his trousers, he kneels on the courtyard's cool stone and gathers his lover closer, greedily kissing his brow, his ears, his cheeks now that he has the use of his lips again.
"You must know that I would have happily spent another twenty minutes eating you out as a dragon, regardless of what satisfaction I'd find."
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"Of that I have no doubt," he answers, smug amusement in his voice. Yussa reaches for Caleb to guide him into a full kiss. "And while the novelty and thrill are delightful, you are far more attractive like this."
He kisses Caleb again as his hand drops to feel the front of the younger man's trousers.
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He's so elated that he can nearly forget about his blunder earlier. But that wouldn't be a wise thing to do, lest all of Yussa's compliments and affection lull him into repeating it.
His unabashed moan at the pressure against his neglected cock breaks this next kiss. Beneath Yussa's hand, his erection is prominent, tenting the front of his trousers. His state of arousal has very much carried over from one body to another, it seems--which is a detail of interest from a spell mechanics standpoint that he can't help taking note of.
"Would you not prefer to go inside for this?" he pants, arms tightening around the other man's smaller body.
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As he asks, Yussa shifts to straddle Caleb's lap properly and his other hand cradles Caleb's face. Even he is surprised by his own insistence here - he's just been thoroughly wrung out by a dragon of all things, and yet now that he has Caleb in his arms, he wants to give himself all over again.
His fingers stroke along Caleb's cheek and into his hair in a tender gesture. Here in the moonlit courtyard, both of them are bathed in pale light. Yussa realizes it's not all that different from the evening Caleb hovered outside the tower, seeking his help or--just him. No, surely the latter. He had little to give then.
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He feels like he has been put into a trance. Yussa settles over his lap, surprisingly graceful for all that he has just been willingly subjected to, and touches his face with gentle insistence. His fingers push into his hair, fond and familiar. Caleb's hands both rest at the small of his back, keeping him close, but allowing him to move freely, and he looks at his dear friend with nothing short of wonder.
Mindful of how his words have already gotten away from him tonight, Caleb opts to say nothing aloud, and kisses him instead. In a kiss he can say all he would have aloud without admitting to any of it. He surrenders to how stricken he is with love for this man, yet even his helpless hunger retains a veneer of plausible deniability. A thin one, yes, but at least he isn't offering to stay like the lovesick fool upstairs.
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Just tell me to stay.
Yussa lifts his head with a soft gasp and his fingers tighten in Caleb's hair. He leans close, lips against the younger man's ear. His nails scrape gently against the back of Caleb's neck and he gently teases Caleb's earlobe with his teeth.
"How do you want me?" he murmurs, voice low and accent heavy. "You've made me very ready everywhere, I will let you choose."
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Gods, Yussa putting that choice into his hands is so fucking hot. His hands stroke down his back, resting on the swell of his ass.
He knows exactly how ready he's made him; how he worked at his tight rim until it was soft and pliant, how he fucked his tongue deeper inside him than his cock will likely reach, slicking and stretching his walls. He couldn't possibly pass that up.
"I want to fuck your ass," he murmurs, feeling his face heat even though he is fairly sure that Yussa must be anticipating this answer. Though they have done it a time or two since the Feywild, it remains an exceedingly rare occurrence. Still, it seems such a shame to neglect his cunt--and perhaps he doesn't have to. "But perhaps I could impress you with a little more magic tonight?"
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The way Caleb's breathing changes, soft and ragged, makes his coy offer entirely worth it. Even if he cannot quite see the younger man's face, Yussa knows his lips are parted and his eyes are likely closed. Caleb's answer doesn't surprise him, given the rare opportunities he's had. Yussa has never known him to pass up something once offered - or gently forced upon him, in some cases.
"I will never tell you not to impress me, Caleb Widogast." Of all his lovers, Caleb has been one of the few to so easily merge magic and sex, to see the utility of one for the other. Yussa certainly finds it exciting and, sometimes, eminently practical.
"Do I need to move?" He isn't sure what Caleb is planning, but there are easier positions for Caleb to have him as he wants him.
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"Yes," Caleb says, reluctantly. "For this, it would be best if we went inside after all. The sitting room would be fine." What he really needs is somewhere soft to lay down, or to kneel--the chaise would do the job.
The last thing he wants is to give up the rewarding grip of Yussa's hand around him--unless it is to replace it with something else--but stone will be hard on the back and the knees, and he wants them both to be very comfortable for this. It's an idea that has been stewing in the back of his mind since an offhand mention in the Feywild in the heat of things. Yussa seemed to find the idea, and similar ones, appealing.
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He offers Caleb a hand, bracing himself to help him up. Yussa feels a pleasant shiver once his lover is on his feet again, standing over him and quite close. Once he's certain Caleb is steady, Yussa lightly touches his chest, then heads inside through the open door leading to the sitting room. There's a chaise there that's quickly becoming a feature in their love life, and Yussa might be inclined to blush every time he had company if he were younger.
Thankfully, he isn't.
Yussa flicks a hand as they slip inside and a few lamps light around the room, providing soft, warm light for Caleb's sake.
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He takes his offered hand instead, and is assisted up to his feet. Yussa may be significantly smaller, but Caleb is still far from heavy. In the moment they linger there together, Caleb thinks of kissing him again, drawn to him as he always is, but that wouldn't get them anywhere. Yussa is right to turn and lead the way, though not without leaving Caleb with a little more warmth to carry with him.
Standing in Tidepeak's lavish sitting room while the tower's brilliant and attractive master, clad only in an open kaftan, lights the lamps for him is a truly surreal experience. Part of him still questions how he could possibly deserve this. Even dressed so simply, Yussa clearly belongs here; in the lamplight, he is golden and ethereal, his bare body a work of art. Erotic art, certainly; Caleb could never see him this way and not want him, wholly and completely. His cock, tucked back into his smalls, aches with the full weight of that desire.
But this is not his place. Yussa invites him into it, but only for a time. Of course he could never stay.
He must make his visits count, then. Moving to the older man with a few measured steps, Caleb reaches for him, drawing him close with hands sliding beneath the loose fabric he wears. He loves that he towers over him when they stand so close. He loves that he has to lean down to kiss him, warm and gently smiling. Fingers splay over his back, and others cover his hip, drawing him closer as Caleb kisses him deeper. A kiss, again, in lieu of words.
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He presses as close as he can, thrilled by the places their bodies touch. He can feel Caleb's warm, bare skin against his and he longs to spend the rest of the night this way, even if it is just laying quietly in his bed with Caleb Widogast holding him.
When the kiss breaks, Yussa stays as he is. Keeping his heels off the floor means compromising his balance a bit, but he trusts Caleb won't let him wobble. He looks up at the other man, golden eyes dark and warm as he meets Caleb's gaze. Delicate fingers stroke gently along his lover's cheek and he leans close for another kiss.
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This is why he'd wanted to stay. He feels cared for here in a way that he's found nowhere else. How could he not want that every day?
"I know that you must have some obsidian around here somewhere," he murmurs when their lips part, curling into a coy little grin that manages to be apologetic without being the least bit sorry. "I left my components upstairs."
That may be enough for Yussa to guess at his intent. It was some time ago now, and Yussa had been beside himself with inexhaustible arousal from a potent aphrodisiac when he'd used the spell, but it would be hard to forget. He was in his right mind the next day, at least, when Caleb explained it as much as he could without breaking the confidence of the spell's original author.
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His fingers hover they pass over books and boxes until he finds what he's looking for. He takes one of the boxes down and flips open the lid. He makes a soft, satisfied sound when he finds what he's looking for. The box is returned to its place. Yussa returns to Caleb and presents a decently sized piece of obsidian, edges rough and potentially sharp given the way it's broken.
"Will this do?" he asks as he lets Caleb take it for inspection. Yussa plucks up a cup from a nearby table and takes a sip of the cold tea in it.
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The cool, jagged dark stone he accepts from Yussa is just what he is looking for. He turns it around in his fingers, gripping it between index and thumb.
"Nicely," he confirms, lips quirking up a little further as his eyes lift to find Yussa idly sipping at a cup of cold tea he'd likely forgotten there earlier in the day. Everything this man does, it seems, endears him further. But that is what being in love will do, he supposes. "This is exactly what I need."
Without further delay, he casts, murmuring the requisite phrase in sibilant Undercommon, so far removed from his native tongue. The edge of the obsidian cuts through the air with a sharp gesture, leaving behind a tear in time in space from which a dark, filmy substance begins to leak. It quickly forms legs, arms, a torso, a head, until an identical but shadowy Caleb Widogast stands beside the original.
"You remember this spell, I assume," says Caleb. His echo mirrors his smile.
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"Yes, I could not forget such a unique spell."
Yusss steps back toward his chaise and shrugs out of his kaftan. He doubts he will be needing it any time soon. He looks again at his lover and the echo, curious and excited by the chance to experience this with a clearer mind.
"How do you want me?" he asks, intentionally coy. He does not ask about moving to another location: they are here now, the echo is here, and the chaise is quite sturdy and wide enough for two bodies at least.
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"Kneel there toward the middle, bitte."
His echo doesn't need to spend time disrobing; with a thought, Caleb's greyscale double is bare, clothing melting away to disperse back into the ether. For his part, Caleb leaves trousers and smalls on the floor, and slides onto the chaise to join Yussa. Kneeling as well, he crowds up behind him, wrapping a pale, lean arm around his middle and kissing playfully from shoulder to neck. Against the curve of his ass, Caleb's other hand gives his cock a few quick strokes with a newly slick palm. In these circumstances, prestidigitation will do.
"It may be worthwhile to start leaving oil down here, hmm?" he suggests in a low rumble, smiling as he kisses the shell of a pointed ear. Considering how frequently they've wound up in this room, he might be only half teasing.
The chaise cushion dips as his echo joins them--that the spell denotes physical mass when summoned it for this purpose is interesting--and takes his place at Yussa's front. Knowing what Caleb intends, his shadowy hands cover the elf's hips, bracing, and he looks down into his--their?--lover's face with a warmth and recognition that belies the coolness of his touch.
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"That would suggest I approve," he says as primly as he can manage. Even as he says it, Yussa reaches back to drape his arm around Caleb's neck as best he can as the echo, now undressed, joins them on the chaise. Yussa watches with intent interest even as Caleb kisses his ear. The shadow's hands are cool on his hips, but firm, as it braces Yussa for what is surely next. It's strange to see his lover's expressions - which he knows so intimately now - reflected in this echo's face. Every detail is as it should be, save for the lack of color.
Yussa shifts slightly, confident that he will not lose balance, and lets his knees slide further apart to ensure both men have whatever access they need. His heart is pounding again with a rush of excitement. Though he has seen the echo before, this is new, and he cannot help the fevered memory of the Feywild when Caleb proposed--something like this.
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The echo crowds closer, leaving very little space for Yussa between them, and bows forward to collect the elf's upper body in his arms, lifting him up rather than down, braced against its shadowy chest. Caleb knows the echo to be cool to the touch, which he imagines must feel quite nice against Yussa's heated skin. The places the echo bumps against him, knees and thighs nudging into the same space, hands and arms inevitably brushing, feels like touching clear, fresh water. Together they position their lover between them, shuffling a foot or so back on the chaise and turning so that Yussa might glimpse his ravishing in the slim decorative mirror across from them.
"Lift your knees, schatz," Caleb advises, breath growing ragged again. Stabilizing, gripping, they figure out the orientation; Caleb only finally presses in once he has Yussa angled perfectly. The forward-and-up press of his hips is careful, but unrelenting. He holds his breath as slowly, Yussa's exhaustingly tight body takes him to the very hilt, until the curve of his ass is nestled flush against his lap, legs spread primly over his. Caleb's forehead drops down against a slim brown shoulder with a chest-deep moan. The ease of this first thrust can probably be attributed to thoroughly licking him open with a dragon's tongue, but getting to take his lover's ass is rare enough that the novelty scatters his brain nearly as much as the sensation.
When the three of them shift just enough to move him within Yussa's body, Caleb lifts his head to see that it is because the echo has reached down into the inch of space between his hips and Yussa's. Caleb has a lovely view over the older man's shoulder as the echo touches his cock, dense and dark as space, to Yussa's clit. Rubs them together with a hand guiding the head, lightly. Up and down, side to side. He guides his cock to Yussa's folds, sliding over them, between them, but never pushing in, though Caleb can hear how wet he is.
Waiting to be given permission, of course. The echo may be him in a sense, but it still follows the orders of its caster, like any other arcane construct.
"Do you think you can take us together?" he asks Yussa, a husky whisper close to his ear. If they've come this far, it's obvious that the answer is yes; Yussa knows what they are doing here. But the conceit of asking, drawing out the anticipation, is thrilling, especially while already buried to the root in his ass. Despite taking its directives from Caleb, the echo's attention is on Yussa, colorless grey eyes intent on his expression. He swallows the strangeness of looking at his own face and seeing desire writ so clearly there. "Tell him what you want," Caleb encourages sweetly, "and he will do it."
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The strangest part - or perhaps one of the thrilling aspects - is that the echo feels so much cooler than the man pressed up against him. His cock is not hot as it rubs against his clit and teases slick folds without ever pushing in. Caleb's voice against his ear is low and perfect and the question alone sends another shiver through him. It takes Yussa a moment to collect himself enough to manage an answer.
"Yes," he breathes, just as quiet. He doesn't need to be loud pressed between them like this. Yussa tenses briefly the next time the echo's cock rubs against his hard clit. His golden eyes focus on the echo in front of him, and it is strange to realize it is looking at him with an intensity that matches Caleb's own. Chills race across his skin and he takes a sharp breath as he's directed to tell the echo what to do. What he wants.
The thought has crossed his mind half a dozen times since the very long day with the side effects of certain components, and again after the strange adventure in the pocket of the Feywild in the Sphere. But having the possibility staring him down still feels surreal. He doesn't look away from the strange-but-familiar grey eyes.
"Fuck me," he whispers. "I want to be full of you."
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