"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."
A shaky exhale fans across the side of Yussa's neck, where Caleb has tucked his face to watch the exchange between his lover and himself from an alternate timeline. As ever, he wonders where they diverged. What choice did he make that his counterpart did not? He certainly didn't choose not to love Yussa; that is woefully plain in the hopeless want on his face. But then, that hadn't been a choice for Caleb, either. It just happened.
Caleb's arms tighten about the smaller man's middle, drawing him back against his chest so the echo now has the angle he needs to enter him; they'll find a balance for giving and taking once they are both comfortably seated.
Heeding Yussa's plea to be full, the echo puts his cock to his cunt and presses in. It is slow going. The tightness of his body around Caleb's cock tells him the stretch in his ass is already a challenge, and that the added stretch around the echo must be brushing against his limits. Once the echo has eased several inches inside, he can feel the pressure of a body taking two things at once; there is only so much space in Yussa's frame to let them both in. The sensation is dizzying.
And somehow, the stars align. With patience and short rocking motions, the echo sinks in deep. If this mirrored version of himself had the breath to make a sound, the way his face twists suggests he would be moaning quite loudly. Caleb does it for him, the noise half torn from his throat. Yussa's body is a miracle this way; smoldering hot inside, clenched and still waiting for more. They both fit together inside him even when fully sheathed.
Perhaps it shouldn't be surprising, but Caleb is surprised when the echo leans down and catches Yussa's mouth in a desperate kiss. He is a perfect reflection of Caleb's own passion, enthralled and hungry, and the purpose of his summoning grants him the agency to express that. His tongue, sweeping past Yussa's lips, must be as cool as the rest of him.
"Greedy man," Caleb breathes into his older lover's ear, fond and taunting, "is this full enough for you?"
Yussa chokes on his breath when the echo pushes into him. Time drags as he echo's cock - cool in the heat of his body - pushes into him. He feels almost unbearably full, trapped between the two men holding him and aware that they can likely feel each other through the thin wall of his body.
It takes effort to get his body to accommodate the new stretch. It's overwhelming, it's almost too much and he can't escape it, but Caleb - both of them - are slow and careful and tender with him, and soon enough the echo is as deep as he can get. Both of them are. His heart is pounding and he leans as much against the man behind him as he can, seeking the comfort of his warmth and familiarity.
Yussa realizes he's been whispering, rambling in Elvish and broken Common, dazed and urgent and incoherent. He isn't prepared for the kiss and the echo catches him in a desperate embrace, mouth filled with the cool tongue that is almost a balm when he feels so overheated. He moans weakly when he hears his lover's voice in his ear, wicked and fond and perfect. The kiss breaks and Yussa struggles to pull himself together enough to speak.
"Yes," he whispers weakly. "Oh gods, yes. Don't--don't stop."
The half unintelligible words spilling from Yussa's lips as the echo finds a home in his body stir a kind of possessive hunger in Caleb that he rarely feels so strongly. He has put his magic, his knowledge and power, on prominent display tonight. The echo is his will, a part of him. Yussa is mindless and desperate for the way they fill him to the brim of what he can take, and still gasping hotly for more. Who else could give him pleasure like this?
"Is it good? I knew that you would like it," he rumbles, affectionate as he is smug. "Let me hear how much, ja?"
When the echo lifts Yussa's hips effortlessly just so with a construct's lack of strain, tilting them back for Caleb's ease of access, the odd romance of the moment vanishes in the face of how much he needs to fuck his erstwhile teacher's ass until he is utterly incoherent.
It is ponderously slow at first as they try to work out a rhythm between them. Caleb's stomach swoops and his head spins several times as they begin moving, surrounded by the tight heat of Yussa's ass, but also feeling the grind of his counterpart's cock along the underside of his own through the thin wall of Yussa's body. His counterpart does not seem to be faring much better, pressing silent gasps and trailing kisses down the other side of their lover's neck. Caleb's noises of pleasure are not silent, and they resonate in his chest as much as his throat.
When they find a rhythm that clicks, faster, rocking in and out just a beat off from one another, Caleb feels as if he might melt, feels lucky his legs are still capable of holding him, his arms supporting part of Yussa's weight. The indulgent obscenity of it reduces him to something crude and base. He can feel the echo's deep strokes into Yussa's cunt, the pressure when they both bury inside him. Unbearable, intoxicating. Indescribable, fevered and hotter than blood.
Caleb wants to hear him, but when he and the echo begin to move together, Yussa can barely breathe. He clutches tight to the echo in front of him and his voice catches on the edge of every breath, sounding like soft hiccups and whimpers as Caleb and his echo try to find a rhythm that works for them. Yussa can't help, can only take it, and that alone is deliciously overwhelming. Almost too much, but he doesn't want it to stop.
There is no part of him that isn't touched and every stroke only reinforces how full he is. His head lolls, trying to leave room for the echo to kiss his neck as it explores him in familiar ways. Gods, it's--not impossible, clearly not, but a spell like this is impressive for so many reasons, much like the dragon. And, much like the dragon, Caleb has shown off his strength and power to fuck his colleague, mentor - Whatever he is to this sharp, clever man - to incoherence.
When they finally start moving together and Yussa cries out, voice ragged and weak. He can't think, he can barely move; all he can do is cling for support, blunt nails digging against shadowy flesh. The echo's cock warms up with every stroke until it feels just as hot as Caleb's. His cunt bears down around it, his entire body going tight around the men buried inside him.
"I--" He struggles to grasp at coherence, breathing hard as they both fuck him with obscene determination. "So much..." Yussa attempts to move between them, as if he can meet every thrust. Another wave of tension ripples through him and Yussa arches his back as he tries to get closer to Caleb, wanting the warmth of his lover's chest against his back. Even as he does, he tries to drag the echo's head down to his chest, wanting that mouth on his breasts.
Greedily, Caleb gathers Yussa to him when his back bows, pressing harder against him, into him. His head can loll back supported by his shoulder now, and though his thrusts can't get so much length, he makes up for it in force, a more audible slap of skin against skin. But with Yussa arched against him, chest pushed out and up, this gives the echo more freedom. His cool mouth falls easily and eagerly to their lover's pert breasts when pulled there, and Caleb watches with curious arousal the way his own lips and tongue lap and suck at pebbled nipples, eyes sliding blissfully closed. It's an expression Yussa must have seen many times, but one Caleb has never been privy to himself. He didn't know that his enjoyment was so clearly written on his face.
Caleb can feel, too, that as his pace has had to change, the echo's does as well in balanced counterpoint. His alternate-self's thrusts are long and full, and the way his cock crowds insistently into Yussa's cunt, vying for the space in his body that Caleb already occupies, makes him briefly shut his eyes as well against the influx of blinding pleasure. Forced together within Yussa's body, the constant rub up and down against the underside of his cock is made ridiculously good.
His and his echo's intent overlaps so seamlessly that his commands aren't needed; his hand slides up Yussa's front to cup and squeeze a small breast, lifting it for his counterpart to suckle at. The echo's bracing grip on the softer, thicker flesh of Yussa's ass tightens, spreading his cheeks apart for Caleb to sink that fraction of an inch deeper.
Gods, why haven't they done this sooner? Yussa is overwhelmed enough to be scattered and tongue-tied, and Caleb is hanging onto only a thread of his own clarity. With the disjointed words and rocking hips of a man no longer at the reins of his own body, Yussa cycles his hips forward, back, seeking the contrasting warm-cold and the slick-hot press of both his lovers, and Caleb can't get enough of him in this state.
Yussa's fingers push into the echo's hair as his cool mouth closes around his nipple. His body tightens again and he is vaguely aware that Caleb is watching himself over his shoulder. What is it like, he wonders, to see himself buried in his lover? Shadowy but clearly him. What is it like to know that he is the one filling Yussa's cunt even as he fucks his ass? Yussa's head spins as he tries to hold on to any thought at all and his fingers grip tighter, pulling with less regard than he might have than if it were Caleb.
Why haven't they done this before? It has not occurred to Yussa to ask, even after experiencing the echo once before. Gods, he won't forget it now, and somehow it's more thrilling for Caleb to offer it.
He whimpers as Caleb cups his breast, presenting it for his echo to suck; his voice rises when the echo's hands spread him more, allowing Caleb to sink deeper. This whole experience is deliciously obscene, one offering him to the other. Yussa dares to look into the mirror again, seeing himself pinned between his lover and his echo, both of them working in and out of him with their own urgent determination. It's almost mesmerizing, and if he weren't so overwhelmed by what he feels he might try to watch them longer.
One hand drops and he shudders as his trembling fingers stroke over his clit. It's almost too much and his touch drifts lower to feel where the echo splits him open as Caleb gives a hard thrust. That forces another sharp, desperate cry out of him and his thighs tremble as tension mounts. The last time he felt this undone, he was on his knees on a bedroll in the Feywild with his own fingers buried in his cunt as Caleb took his ass. He starts to curl forward, unable to keep his body arched any longer as he shakes. Yussa goes tense between his lover and the echo as they make him come: every thrust is punctuated with a weak, breathless moan as they fuck him through it.
The orgasm hits Yussa like a bolt. All at once Caleb feels his rocking stop and he goes rod-still in their arms, quaking but unmoving. His body squeezes tight, a vise on Caleb's brain and cock, and it's all the more precious to be inside him when he is like this.
He knows he lacks the constitution to go on this way for much longer, but he isn't done quite yet. Not before he fucks every thought from his wizard mentor's head. He reaches around Yussa's slim body down to his clit, hard and hot, to begin the abandoned work of rapidly swiping up and down. He is close enough to feel the spasm that goes through his echo's temporary corporeal form, and he intimately registers his thrusts stutter and then desperately speed up. Caleb chokes on a moan, and has no choice but to pick up the pace himself.
He pounds forward as hard as his hips will allow, remembering fleetingly that very same instance in that little captured corner of the Feywild. He's never seen Yussa come apart like that before or since--until now, perhaps. He barely thinks about it as his hand slides up Yussa's chest until he is bracing his head against his shoulder by cradling his slim throat, feeling the short moans forced out of him with every thrust against his palm.
"Too much?" he rasps, and across from him the echo lifts his head, desaturated eyes almost seeming to flash brighter before he ducks back down to lavish his attention on Yussa's breasts again. The echo grips Yussa's narrow waist in his cool human hands, bounces him forward and back between two cocks, while the slide of Caleb's hand against slick folds speeds to a purposeful, hard swirl of circular motion. When his fingertips glance against it several times in passing, he's surprised by the heat of his echo's cock. If he didn't know better, if the slight tingle of arcane magic wasn't present, he could be mistaken for a real man of flesh and blood.
Yussa jerks between them when Caleb's warm fingers find his clit, stroking furiously. He tries to climb the echo like he could actually pull away, even if his limbs won't support him. And they fuck him harder, the lewd sound of skin against skin is loud between them. The echo's hips stutter and it's strange to think how independent it is, how like Caleb. What else might it be capable of, he wonders.
But he cannot hold onto those thoughts and they slip from his grasp like water.
His breathing is ragged when Caleb's hand slides up to hold his throat. Yussa's eyes close and his pulse pounds against his lover's fingers. Another pair of hands grip his waist, forcing him to move when Yussa can't manage it himself. He doesn't know if Caleb is talking to him, the words barely registering, but Yussa couldn't answer even if he wanted to. Still riding the edge of the first, Caleb manages to drag another orgasm out of him as his fingers circle and rub against his aching clit. He shudders hard between the two men holding him and if not for the echo's hands and Caleb's, he might collapse completely.
All he can do is shake and breathe. His mind is empty with that last rush of pleasure, and now he is quickly descending into being oversensitive, but neither is he inclined (or even capable) to tell his lovers to stop what they are doing. No, he wants very much for them to finish as well. His cunt throbs around the echo's cock and his weight leans more into Caleb's hands, head bowed as much as it can with the other man's hand cradling his throat.
Predictably, Yussa tries to squirm away from the intense stimulation of Caleb's fingers. It doesn't work, of course, as Caleb and the echo are still connected. No answer to his breathless inquiry comes, only hard, uneven gasps. That doesn't worry him. It encourages him, actually, signaling that Yussa's mind is far beyond words, scrambled by the intensity of what Caleb has put his body through.
How many times has he made him come tonight? He would know the number if he gave himself a moment to count. Regardless, it should be once more, at least.
That thought has barely glanced across his mind when he feels Yussa shudder through another peak before the ripples of his first have had the chance to fade. The world slants. Oh fuck, he can't--it's too late to even try to draw this out, between the tightness around him and the pressure of his echo's cock. His movements are mindless; his fingers continue to stroke over Yussa's sore clit less because he means to and more because it is what he is already doing. The hand around his throat remains, perhaps even unintentionally tightens a fraction as Caleb's control slips.
His echo drives Yussa back onto Caleb's cock with his own thrusts, and he's lifted his head to nose distractedly against Yussa's sweat-damp curls, brow knit up with rising pleasure. For perhaps the first time, Caleb takes pity on himself; it is a completely foreign feeling. But the echo has done so well. Shouldn't he get something before he's banished back to whatever fading timeline he came from?
"Go ahead." The words scrape out aloud, the best he can manage, but it is enough. There are a few sloppy thrusts from each of them, and then the echo presses closer, head bowed against Yussa's with recognizable tenderness. Though Caleb doubts it's possible for him to produce anything tangible, the relief on his face and the tense shiver of his shadowy form is unmistakable.
Yussa, miracle that he is, takes both of their cocks to the hilt with ease when Caleb follows his counterpart a bare few moments later, sinking and spilling into the velvet-soft heat of his ass. Unlike his echo, his shaky groan is soft, but audible.
He remains trembling and tense as Caleb's fingers stay pressed against him, not exactly rubbing with any focus anymore but the pressure is enough to keep him from going fully boneless. It's too much, it almost hurts, and yet he still doesn't want it to stop. He would rather have Caleb's touch than not, even if it is working him past oversensitivity and into something else. Yussa can feel the man's other hand tighten slightly against his throat, sending an unexpected jolt through him.
Whatever he expected, he didn't count on feeling the echo driving into him with a very real urgency, chasing a release that Yussa didn't know he could feel. He hears Caleb's rasping voice giving permission and Yussa whimpers when the echo presses against him, skin cool against his. The affection is just as tender as what he would get from the man behind him, and a moment later Yussa is very certain that the echo comes, even if there is nothing to feel for it. That hardly matters when the very living man behind him pushes deep into him to follow in that pleasure.
Yussa can no longer even cry out, he can only whimper as his lover fills him. He's fairly sure he whites out for a few seconds, unseeing and unthinking as his body goes entirely weak. All he can do is pant for air, desperately trying to catch his breath as his entire body just--everything is warm and heavy, that delicious feeling rippling out to his fingertips and toes.
He cannot remember the last time he felt so thoroughly fucked, and somehow it feels terribly appropriate that it should be eclipsed by Caleb Widogast.
Caleb's head feels stuffed with cotton. His echo leans his forehead against Yussa's, sweetly enough that in a flash of suddenly remembered worry about this other self giving too much about him away, Caleb releases the spell. He's scattered enough not to consider the consequences in advance. In an instant, the echo disappears. Without his support, Yussa slumps forward and Caleb is left holding him up alone, a feat he is only rarely capable of at his best, let alone shaking and unfocused moments after a powerful orgasm.
"Scheisse," he curses sharply, wobbling. His head floats back to him enough to realize he's also been holding the other man's throat more tightly than he ever intended. Caleb releases his grip immediately, letting Yussa go limp. "I'm sorry," he gasps. Even in his own ears, his voice comes to him from far away. "Oh, gods. I did not mean to--to hold you for that long."
Bending forward, it's the best he can do to lower Yussa to his knees. His cock slips out in the same motion, and he fumbles when his fucked-out lover seems incapable of supporting himself even that way. On one hand, that is desperately hot. On the other, he needs to get himself together and make him comfortable.
Though he feels weak, he's able to ease Yussa onto his back. Brushing his hair out of his face, he looks him over, concern mingled with a hunger to see just how thoroughly he's wrecked him.
It might be comical if he weren't right in the middle of it. Very suddenly, the echo is gone and Yussa doesn't have the strength to flail for balance. Caleb, too, moves suddenly when he realizes he is holding Yussa's throat. He slumps onto the chaise, trying to support himself on his forearms, at least, but even that is a near thing. He can hear Caleb cursing and apologizing behind him and the words trickle through his mind without really landing.
With Caleb's help, Yussa sinks down onto the chaise, making only a soft, weak sound in the back of his throat when Caleb's cock slips free. He's left feeling utterly empty, and his awareness is far more pronounced with how well fucked the echo and Caleb have left him. Yussa doesn't have the strength to resist - or help - as Caleb eases him onto his back. His eyes aren't quite closed, but they aren't focused on anything in particular. His breathing is still heavy, but starting to calm; he still feels overheated, the flush lingering in his cheeks and chest even as sweat begins to dry on his skin.
Yussa blinks his eyes fully open as Caleb's fingers brush across his brow, smoothing back his sweat-damp hair. He manages to focus on the younger man, but it's clear looking at him that he's still dazed. Between his thighs he's a mess of his own slick and oil and Caleb's come, and whatever remains of a dragon's saliva.
He still feels like he's floating, even with the familiar support of the chaise beneath him ensuring that he isn't completely untethered. His entire body is too heavy and it takes far more effort than usual to do anything at all. Yussa, a man who depends on the sharpness of his mind and the precise command of his words can barely muster any at all. His mind grasps uselessly at passing thoughts but cannot hold them. His hand rests on the chaise and his fingers curl lightly in a gesture that might be beckoning if he weren't so wrecked.
It takes far too long to muster the words, but eventually he manages to murmur, "Do not apologize, sweet boy."
For some few minutes, Yussa is very out of it. His heavy gaze is foggy, unfocused, his body weak and weighed down, skin hot, tender and slick between the splayed legs he seems too spent to close. He is quiet as well, and rendering him speechless feels like a major accomplishment. Caleb sits beside him, strokes his fingers gently through his damp hair, and looks his fill. Yussa, archmage of this tower, is terribly beautiful this way; wrung out by his pleasure and obscenely debauched. Caleb is wickedly proud to be the cause.
The twitch of the other man's fingers catches his attention, and he leans down, closer, as Yussa pulls enough of himself together to murmur to him. He doesn't know what he expected, but what he hears strikes straight through to his heart. His soft, scraped together voice, the familiar endearment that never fails to make him flushed and giddy, a kind reassurance.
Gods, he is so fucked. He loves this man ridiculously. He cannot get past it, and he cannot admit to it. What is left?
"Okay," he murmurs back, cracking a smile that he knows is too tender, one that softens his eyes and deepens the lines at each corner. "No more apologies." He ducks down to kiss Yussa's brow, lingering as his hand cups his cheek. "You seemed to enjoy all of that," he says as he leans back again, clearly pleased with himself, but equally glad--and looking for some small confirmation that he hadn't overstepped. "Now I've made sure you will rest well tonight, maybe you will forgive me for interrupting earlier."
Yussa closes his eyes as Caleb leans down to kiss his brow. The other man's hands are so gentle now, even when not long ago they were gripping hard enough to bruise. Or was that the echo? At the moment it's all blurred together.
Even in his wrung out state, a smile flickers to life across his mouth. He doesn't open his eyes, but he does turn his face toward Caleb's palm. In this moment of strange, exhausted clarity, Yussa whispers, "I will forgive you, Caleb Widogast." His fingers curl tighter, trying to hold onto something that isn't there. "Stay with me."
It is what he wants. Yussa wants to go back to bed with the comforting warmth of his lover beside him, knowing that Caleb is whole and safe. He wants to wake to see his face in the morning light. He could not say it when Caleb made his fevered offer, and he does not know if he will be able to say it again come morning. But here, in the quiet, dim light of his sitting room where they first met two years ago, he can give Caleb that bare honesty.
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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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Caleb's arms tighten about the smaller man's middle, drawing him back against his chest so the echo now has the angle he needs to enter him; they'll find a balance for giving and taking once they are both comfortably seated.
Heeding Yussa's plea to be full, the echo puts his cock to his cunt and presses in. It is slow going. The tightness of his body around Caleb's cock tells him the stretch in his ass is already a challenge, and that the added stretch around the echo must be brushing against his limits. Once the echo has eased several inches inside, he can feel the pressure of a body taking two things at once; there is only so much space in Yussa's frame to let them both in. The sensation is dizzying.
And somehow, the stars align. With patience and short rocking motions, the echo sinks in deep. If this mirrored version of himself had the breath to make a sound, the way his face twists suggests he would be moaning quite loudly. Caleb does it for him, the noise half torn from his throat. Yussa's body is a miracle this way; smoldering hot inside, clenched and still waiting for more. They both fit together inside him even when fully sheathed.
Perhaps it shouldn't be surprising, but Caleb is surprised when the echo leans down and catches Yussa's mouth in a desperate kiss. He is a perfect reflection of Caleb's own passion, enthralled and hungry, and the purpose of his summoning grants him the agency to express that. His tongue, sweeping past Yussa's lips, must be as cool as the rest of him.
"Greedy man," Caleb breathes into his older lover's ear, fond and taunting, "is this full enough for you?"
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It takes effort to get his body to accommodate the new stretch. It's overwhelming, it's almost too much and he can't escape it, but Caleb - both of them - are slow and careful and tender with him, and soon enough the echo is as deep as he can get. Both of them are. His heart is pounding and he leans as much against the man behind him as he can, seeking the comfort of his warmth and familiarity.
Yussa realizes he's been whispering, rambling in Elvish and broken Common, dazed and urgent and incoherent. He isn't prepared for the kiss and the echo catches him in a desperate embrace, mouth filled with the cool tongue that is almost a balm when he feels so overheated. He moans weakly when he hears his lover's voice in his ear, wicked and fond and perfect. The kiss breaks and Yussa struggles to pull himself together enough to speak.
"Yes," he whispers weakly. "Oh gods, yes. Don't--don't stop."
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"Is it good? I knew that you would like it," he rumbles, affectionate as he is smug. "Let me hear how much, ja?"
When the echo lifts Yussa's hips effortlessly just so with a construct's lack of strain, tilting them back for Caleb's ease of access, the odd romance of the moment vanishes in the face of how much he needs to fuck his erstwhile teacher's ass until he is utterly incoherent.
It is ponderously slow at first as they try to work out a rhythm between them. Caleb's stomach swoops and his head spins several times as they begin moving, surrounded by the tight heat of Yussa's ass, but also feeling the grind of his counterpart's cock along the underside of his own through the thin wall of Yussa's body. His counterpart does not seem to be faring much better, pressing silent gasps and trailing kisses down the other side of their lover's neck. Caleb's noises of pleasure are not silent, and they resonate in his chest as much as his throat.
When they find a rhythm that clicks, faster, rocking in and out just a beat off from one another, Caleb feels as if he might melt, feels lucky his legs are still capable of holding him, his arms supporting part of Yussa's weight. The indulgent obscenity of it reduces him to something crude and base. He can feel the echo's deep strokes into Yussa's cunt, the pressure when they both bury inside him. Unbearable, intoxicating. Indescribable, fevered and hotter than blood.
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There is no part of him that isn't touched and every stroke only reinforces how full he is. His head lolls, trying to leave room for the echo to kiss his neck as it explores him in familiar ways. Gods, it's--not impossible, clearly not, but a spell like this is impressive for so many reasons, much like the dragon. And, much like the dragon, Caleb has shown off his strength and power to fuck his colleague, mentor - Whatever he is to this sharp, clever man - to incoherence.
When they finally start moving together and Yussa cries out, voice ragged and weak. He can't think, he can barely move; all he can do is cling for support, blunt nails digging against shadowy flesh. The echo's cock warms up with every stroke until it feels just as hot as Caleb's. His cunt bears down around it, his entire body going tight around the men buried inside him.
"I--" He struggles to grasp at coherence, breathing hard as they both fuck him with obscene determination. "So much..." Yussa attempts to move between them, as if he can meet every thrust. Another wave of tension ripples through him and Yussa arches his back as he tries to get closer to Caleb, wanting the warmth of his lover's chest against his back. Even as he does, he tries to drag the echo's head down to his chest, wanting that mouth on his breasts.
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Caleb can feel, too, that as his pace has had to change, the echo's does as well in balanced counterpoint. His alternate-self's thrusts are long and full, and the way his cock crowds insistently into Yussa's cunt, vying for the space in his body that Caleb already occupies, makes him briefly shut his eyes as well against the influx of blinding pleasure. Forced together within Yussa's body, the constant rub up and down against the underside of his cock is made ridiculously good.
His and his echo's intent overlaps so seamlessly that his commands aren't needed; his hand slides up Yussa's front to cup and squeeze a small breast, lifting it for his counterpart to suckle at. The echo's bracing grip on the softer, thicker flesh of Yussa's ass tightens, spreading his cheeks apart for Caleb to sink that fraction of an inch deeper.
Gods, why haven't they done this sooner? Yussa is overwhelmed enough to be scattered and tongue-tied, and Caleb is hanging onto only a thread of his own clarity. With the disjointed words and rocking hips of a man no longer at the reins of his own body, Yussa cycles his hips forward, back, seeking the contrasting warm-cold and the slick-hot press of both his lovers, and Caleb can't get enough of him in this state.
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Why haven't they done this before? It has not occurred to Yussa to ask, even after experiencing the echo once before. Gods, he won't forget it now, and somehow it's more thrilling for Caleb to offer it.
He whimpers as Caleb cups his breast, presenting it for his echo to suck; his voice rises when the echo's hands spread him more, allowing Caleb to sink deeper. This whole experience is deliciously obscene, one offering him to the other. Yussa dares to look into the mirror again, seeing himself pinned between his lover and his echo, both of them working in and out of him with their own urgent determination. It's almost mesmerizing, and if he weren't so overwhelmed by what he feels he might try to watch them longer.
One hand drops and he shudders as his trembling fingers stroke over his clit. It's almost too much and his touch drifts lower to feel where the echo splits him open as Caleb gives a hard thrust. That forces another sharp, desperate cry out of him and his thighs tremble as tension mounts. The last time he felt this undone, he was on his knees on a bedroll in the Feywild with his own fingers buried in his cunt as Caleb took his ass. He starts to curl forward, unable to keep his body arched any longer as he shakes. Yussa goes tense between his lover and the echo as they make him come: every thrust is punctuated with a weak, breathless moan as they fuck him through it.
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He knows he lacks the constitution to go on this way for much longer, but he isn't done quite yet. Not before he fucks every thought from his wizard mentor's head. He reaches around Yussa's slim body down to his clit, hard and hot, to begin the abandoned work of rapidly swiping up and down. He is close enough to feel the spasm that goes through his echo's temporary corporeal form, and he intimately registers his thrusts stutter and then desperately speed up. Caleb chokes on a moan, and has no choice but to pick up the pace himself.
He pounds forward as hard as his hips will allow, remembering fleetingly that very same instance in that little captured corner of the Feywild. He's never seen Yussa come apart like that before or since--until now, perhaps. He barely thinks about it as his hand slides up Yussa's chest until he is bracing his head against his shoulder by cradling his slim throat, feeling the short moans forced out of him with every thrust against his palm.
"Too much?" he rasps, and across from him the echo lifts his head, desaturated eyes almost seeming to flash brighter before he ducks back down to lavish his attention on Yussa's breasts again. The echo grips Yussa's narrow waist in his cool human hands, bounces him forward and back between two cocks, while the slide of Caleb's hand against slick folds speeds to a purposeful, hard swirl of circular motion. When his fingertips glance against it several times in passing, he's surprised by the heat of his echo's cock. If he didn't know better, if the slight tingle of arcane magic wasn't present, he could be mistaken for a real man of flesh and blood.
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But he cannot hold onto those thoughts and they slip from his grasp like water.
His breathing is ragged when Caleb's hand slides up to hold his throat. Yussa's eyes close and his pulse pounds against his lover's fingers. Another pair of hands grip his waist, forcing him to move when Yussa can't manage it himself. He doesn't know if Caleb is talking to him, the words barely registering, but Yussa couldn't answer even if he wanted to. Still riding the edge of the first, Caleb manages to drag another orgasm out of him as his fingers circle and rub against his aching clit. He shudders hard between the two men holding him and if not for the echo's hands and Caleb's, he might collapse completely.
All he can do is shake and breathe. His mind is empty with that last rush of pleasure, and now he is quickly descending into being oversensitive, but neither is he inclined (or even capable) to tell his lovers to stop what they are doing. No, he wants very much for them to finish as well. His cunt throbs around the echo's cock and his weight leans more into Caleb's hands, head bowed as much as it can with the other man's hand cradling his throat.
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How many times has he made him come tonight? He would know the number if he gave himself a moment to count. Regardless, it should be once more, at least.
That thought has barely glanced across his mind when he feels Yussa shudder through another peak before the ripples of his first have had the chance to fade. The world slants. Oh fuck, he can't--it's too late to even try to draw this out, between the tightness around him and the pressure of his echo's cock. His movements are mindless; his fingers continue to stroke over Yussa's sore clit less because he means to and more because it is what he is already doing. The hand around his throat remains, perhaps even unintentionally tightens a fraction as Caleb's control slips.
His echo drives Yussa back onto Caleb's cock with his own thrusts, and he's lifted his head to nose distractedly against Yussa's sweat-damp curls, brow knit up with rising pleasure. For perhaps the first time, Caleb takes pity on himself; it is a completely foreign feeling. But the echo has done so well. Shouldn't he get something before he's banished back to whatever fading timeline he came from?
"Go ahead." The words scrape out aloud, the best he can manage, but it is enough. There are a few sloppy thrusts from each of them, and then the echo presses closer, head bowed against Yussa's with recognizable tenderness. Though Caleb doubts it's possible for him to produce anything tangible, the relief on his face and the tense shiver of his shadowy form is unmistakable.
Yussa, miracle that he is, takes both of their cocks to the hilt with ease when Caleb follows his counterpart a bare few moments later, sinking and spilling into the velvet-soft heat of his ass. Unlike his echo, his shaky groan is soft, but audible.
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Whatever he expected, he didn't count on feeling the echo driving into him with a very real urgency, chasing a release that Yussa didn't know he could feel. He hears Caleb's rasping voice giving permission and Yussa whimpers when the echo presses against him, skin cool against his. The affection is just as tender as what he would get from the man behind him, and a moment later Yussa is very certain that the echo comes, even if there is nothing to feel for it. That hardly matters when the very living man behind him pushes deep into him to follow in that pleasure.
Yussa can no longer even cry out, he can only whimper as his lover fills him. He's fairly sure he whites out for a few seconds, unseeing and unthinking as his body goes entirely weak. All he can do is pant for air, desperately trying to catch his breath as his entire body just--everything is warm and heavy, that delicious feeling rippling out to his fingertips and toes.
He cannot remember the last time he felt so thoroughly fucked, and somehow it feels terribly appropriate that it should be eclipsed by Caleb Widogast.
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"Scheisse," he curses sharply, wobbling. His head floats back to him enough to realize he's also been holding the other man's throat more tightly than he ever intended. Caleb releases his grip immediately, letting Yussa go limp. "I'm sorry," he gasps. Even in his own ears, his voice comes to him from far away. "Oh, gods. I did not mean to--to hold you for that long."
Bending forward, it's the best he can do to lower Yussa to his knees. His cock slips out in the same motion, and he fumbles when his fucked-out lover seems incapable of supporting himself even that way. On one hand, that is desperately hot. On the other, he needs to get himself together and make him comfortable.
Though he feels weak, he's able to ease Yussa onto his back. Brushing his hair out of his face, he looks him over, concern mingled with a hunger to see just how thoroughly he's wrecked him.
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With Caleb's help, Yussa sinks down onto the chaise, making only a soft, weak sound in the back of his throat when Caleb's cock slips free. He's left feeling utterly empty, and his awareness is far more pronounced with how well fucked the echo and Caleb have left him. Yussa doesn't have the strength to resist - or help - as Caleb eases him onto his back. His eyes aren't quite closed, but they aren't focused on anything in particular. His breathing is still heavy, but starting to calm; he still feels overheated, the flush lingering in his cheeks and chest even as sweat begins to dry on his skin.
Yussa blinks his eyes fully open as Caleb's fingers brush across his brow, smoothing back his sweat-damp hair. He manages to focus on the younger man, but it's clear looking at him that he's still dazed. Between his thighs he's a mess of his own slick and oil and Caleb's come, and whatever remains of a dragon's saliva.
He still feels like he's floating, even with the familiar support of the chaise beneath him ensuring that he isn't completely untethered. His entire body is too heavy and it takes far more effort than usual to do anything at all. Yussa, a man who depends on the sharpness of his mind and the precise command of his words can barely muster any at all. His mind grasps uselessly at passing thoughts but cannot hold them. His hand rests on the chaise and his fingers curl lightly in a gesture that might be beckoning if he weren't so wrecked.
It takes far too long to muster the words, but eventually he manages to murmur, "Do not apologize, sweet boy."
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The twitch of the other man's fingers catches his attention, and he leans down, closer, as Yussa pulls enough of himself together to murmur to him. He doesn't know what he expected, but what he hears strikes straight through to his heart. His soft, scraped together voice, the familiar endearment that never fails to make him flushed and giddy, a kind reassurance.
Gods, he is so fucked. He loves this man ridiculously. He cannot get past it, and he cannot admit to it. What is left?
"Okay," he murmurs back, cracking a smile that he knows is too tender, one that softens his eyes and deepens the lines at each corner. "No more apologies." He ducks down to kiss Yussa's brow, lingering as his hand cups his cheek. "You seemed to enjoy all of that," he says as he leans back again, clearly pleased with himself, but equally glad--and looking for some small confirmation that he hadn't overstepped. "Now I've made sure you will rest well tonight, maybe you will forgive me for interrupting earlier."
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Even in his wrung out state, a smile flickers to life across his mouth. He doesn't open his eyes, but he does turn his face toward Caleb's palm. In this moment of strange, exhausted clarity, Yussa whispers, "I will forgive you, Caleb Widogast." His fingers curl tighter, trying to hold onto something that isn't there. "Stay with me."
It is what he wants. Yussa wants to go back to bed with the comforting warmth of his lover beside him, knowing that Caleb is whole and safe. He wants to wake to see his face in the morning light. He could not say it when Caleb made his fevered offer, and he does not know if he will be able to say it again come morning. But here, in the quiet, dim light of his sitting room where they first met two years ago, he can give Caleb that bare honesty.
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