Caleb can't help it; when Yussa reveals that their first tryst has been on his mind also, his smile widens, almost boyishly gleeful. His breath is shallow as the archmage's graceful fingers brush along his bearded jaw, and he feels a stab of heat in his gut as they reach his lips.
Yussa's camisole hangs from one hand, and then he lets it flutter down onto the couch behind him, because he can't turn away yet. He hasn't even been touched before this, but arousal pulses through him, dizzyingly potent. Gods above, this man is attractive. What hasn't he been recalling from that afternoon? His fingers find the edge of the bandeau.
"I have thought about laying between your legs and putting my mouth to you for the first time. That first taste of you." His voice, softened and husky, fills the space between them. He peels the clinging fabric up and feels his knuckles brush the soft curve of a small breast. He drags it carefully up over Yussa's head, baring his chest to his hungry gaze. Remembering perfectly how beautiful Yussa is with his clothes off doesn't dim his current appreciation in the slightest. "The heat against my tongue, how wet you were, how you sounded when I pressed deeper."
If his cock isn't hard enough for the shape to be obvious against the front of his trousers by now, he would be shocked. The bandeau leaves his hand the same way as the camisole had, and his fingers finally dip just past the waistband of his lover's smalls, beginning to drag that last and simplest garment down over his hips. Laying Yussa bare while he is still fully dressed himself is heady in a way Caleb couldn't have anticipated.
The description of the experience from Caleb's side sends a jolt of heat straight through him. Yussa remembers the day vividly, the way the younger man's uncertainty shifted to abandon the moment he had a clear in invitation. He feels a little surge of wetness as the memory is punctuated with the brush of fingers low on his belly.
"I was very pleased by how eager you were the moment you knew it was allowed. Desired."
His smalls are easy to remove: it takes little coaxing for the soft fabric to fall away. A keen eye might catch the damp spot on the pale fabric as it slides lower. Yussa reaches for Caleb again, utterly taken with the hunger in the younger man's eyes.
"Do you wish to show off for me again, Caleb Widogast?" Despite being nearly naked while Caleb is fully dressed, Yussa still commands the space between them effortlessly. Soft fingertips lightly touch Caleb's lips. "Do you still hunger for what I have to offer?"
As he slides Yussa's smalls down his legs, Caleb lowers himself as well, falling back onto his knees. It's a good place to be right now, with his lover's arousal made apparent, the scent of him strong and heady.
Caleb's breath is shallow, all the heat of his singular focus on Yussa. Copper lashes flutter and lids lower over darkened eyes as the archmage traces his slightly chapped lips, his body's reaction outsized for how the touch barely ghosts against his skin. He nearly whimpers.
"Currently, Master Errenis, there is nothing I want more."
With Yussa now bare, Caleb's hands are free to explore him with another purpose. He reaches for the back of his thighs to draw him closer, to demonstrate his eagerness tangibly. The power this man holds over him, so confident and in control even stripped of his intimidating finery, is intoxicating.
Yussa steps closer with Caleb's encouragement. His fingers drift to stroke the younger man's hair back, golden eyes intent as he drinks in this sight. Gods, he has dreamed of having this again. He feels a throb deep in his body.
"Since you are so eager, I give you this choice: do you wish to be on your knees or your back? If the former, let me sit. If the latter, up onto the chaise with you."
His mind is already rushing ahead and it takes more patience than he thought it would to wait for an answer: he can remember vividly the feel of Caleb's tongue, the intensity of his attention and his focus. And the pleasure he takes from being of such... service.
Obediently, Caleb's head tips back as Yussa's hand slides through it, baring his throat as he blinks up at the other man in a near daze. Gods, he likes this angle. The view really can't be beat. The problem with Yussa's offer to let him choose is that both options are painfully appealing. The mere thought makes his cock throb where it strains against his pants, desperately hard despite a complete lack of touch or even attention so far.
Ultimately, however, he would like a little more freedom to move tonight, to show off the way Yussa has invited him to, which is enough to solve his indecision.
"The former for now, please," he requests, hoarse but polite. His hands slide back down Yussa's legs before releasing them, and he sits back to give the older man space to return to the chaise and make himself comfortable. He'll happily follow on his knees.
"As you wish," he purrs, as if he is doing Caleb a favor in granting this. Yussa slips away from him so that he can sit, perching on the edge of the couch they'd been sharing. He relaxes there, as he would if he were still draped in silk and gold.
Slowly, he spreads his legs to make space for Caleb between them. He is wet and there is a flush of arousal in his cheeks, but he knows that even this is something Caleb can improve on. The lanterns cast warm light, taking over as the sun disappears beyond the horizon.
He knows he does not need to, but he crooks his fingers in invitation once he is comfortable, golden eyes intent on the younger man. The way Caleb looks at him, the sort of hazy expression he gets, is probably far more appealing than it should be. Yussa likes that Caleb seems to be succumbing to a spell, when the only influence Yussa wields in the moment is the strength of Caleb's desire.
Gods, he is doing Caleb a favor. Caleb's eyes are glued to him as he settles on the couch, opening his legs sensually slow, revealing gently flushed folds already glistening wet. Yussa's fingers curl, beckoning, and Caleb feels his breath catch in his chest. At his leisure, he says, looking like that.
He doesn't waste a moment. On his knees, he crawls between the older man's legs, laying warm, calloused hands against the inside of lithe brown thighs and drawing close. He leans forward over Yussa's lap, nuzzling lightly against his stomach to press his lips over the angle of a sharp hip bone. The scent of his arousal is strong and heady, and it makes Caleb's mouth water.
He is charmed the old-fashioned way, eager to please and more than a little desperate to taste this gorgeous man's cunt.
Still, he makes himself work up to it, savoring the softness of Yussa's skin beneath his hands and lips. Rubbing his thumbs over his folds to spread them, Caleb's mouth works lower, from Yussa's hip down the center of his body. The last time they did this, he had a little stubble, but this time it's a full beard rubbing against sensitive skin at the crux of Yussa's thighs. A moan bubbles up from his throat as his seeking tongue swipes over the swell of his lover's stiff clit, and after wetting his lips, he immediately goes back for more.
Yussa watches Caleb crawl to him, startled by the rush it gives him as the younger man eases between his thighs. His gaze is unwavering, but the muscles in his stomach jump even if he is expecting the gentle press of nose as he nuzzles close. The warmth of his breath fans across Yussa's skin, only encouraging a deeper warmth in the archmage's face.
He relaxes more as Caleb's thumbs stroke over him, spreading him open as his lover's mouth trails lower. It's a sweet exploration that belies Caleb's eagerness, and he finds himself charmed by it. He also finds himself very aware of the way his body responds: the slow, methodical undressing spurred his arousal, and feeling Caleb so close now makes it spike. Yussa can't help the way his breath catches when he feels the rougher texture of Caleb's beard against tender flesh; the first sweep of his lover's tongue against him sends a jolt straight through his core.
Gods, he has missed this. Yussa lets go of a sigh and strokes his fingers into Caleb's hair, holding loosely in encouragement as his tongue returns for another seeking lick. "That's it," he murmurs, fingers rubbing lightly against Caleb's scalp. "I'm quite gratified to know you have thought of this since the first time. You made quite the impression."
Something unwinds in Caleb, loosening the set of his shoulders and easing the stiffness in his spine, when Yussa takes a loose hold on his hair. Lapping over his clit again, relaxation spreads through his body, warm and molasses-slow. Yussa speaks to him in a soothing and encouraging murmur; Caleb hums an agreement that vibrates from his chest into his throat, and continues to encompass the hard, hot shape of his arousal in slow swipes with the flat of his tongue.
He knows what is happening. He is letting go, passing his control to Yussa. Lifting that burden from his shoulders makes him feel so light, so free he's nearly giddy. Yussa doesn't need him to make choices, he doesn't need him to have a single thought in his head; he needs him to be a willing mouth, receptive and pliant, and he is. It's exhilarating. Yussa will decide what he deserves.
Lifting his heavy gaze up through thick copper lashes, he finds Yussa's face, and heat scorches through him all over again, prickling the already flushed skin beneath his clothes, pooling between his hips where his cock aches, inconsequential. The archmage is watching him with clear appreciation, and Caleb feels like he never wants to move from this spot. He belongs here. The slick heat of Yussa's cunt is too close to resist, and he doesn't look away as he slides a bare half-inch down to press his tongue to the center of that heat. Folds parted by the gentle caress of his thumbs, he licks with ease over his entrance, then in.
Gods, yes, he thought of this. The taste of him, the feel of him--hot, soft, fluttering around his tongue. He didn't mean to let his eyes slip closed, just as he didn't mean to moan again, but he does both. His mouth opens wider so he can fuck his tongue deeper, slick lips smearing over Yussa's clit and beard scraping against more tender skin.
He can see the tension fading as Caleb sinks into his task; taking control has never been an issue for Yussa, but with Caleb it feels particularly satisfying with the way his lover bends to it - with the pleasure he finds in submitting to Yussa's desires and whims. It's deeply arousing, and he suspects a positive feedback loop between them. Caleb takes pleasure in submission, in letting go; Yussa takes pleasure in taking the younger man in hand and enjoying all he offers. He knows he must be mindful of his occasional tendency toward being demanding, even if Caleb seems to like it. Yussa doesn't wish to abuse the trust he's been given.
Caleb's tongue slips lower and Yussa's fingers tighten briefly, a soft moan of his own echoing Caleb's as he teases his entrance. For a moment, he's unsure if the rush of wetness he feels is from his own arousal or from the slick feeling of Caleb's tongue pushing into him. Possibly both at this rate. His thighs spread further, as if he can urge Caleb closer than he already is.
Yussa breathes in sharply at the unique feeling of Caleb's beard dragging against sensitive skin. It isn't quite like the sandpaper scrape of his stubble the last time his face was between his thighs, but it still makes him squirm, adjusting the angle of his hips like he is seeking it. How else can he decide if he likes it?
"I feel--I feel compelled to remind you of our agreement," he gasps out as Caleb's tongue strokes into him again. "You must tell me if there is anything I should not do, or if I should cross a line. And I will give you the same courtesy."
Yussa's voice is tight as he tries to keep it even; there is a waver, despite his best efforts, as Caleb's lip puts pressure against his clit.
Yussa's hips lift and his legs spread like he wants more, and Caleb could never disappoint him. The width of his shoulders prevents him from pressing much closer, but that is easily solved. His hands slide down Yussa's thighs, curling beneath and then lifting them, guiding his knees up over his shoulders. Now there is nothing keeping him away. Yussa speaks before he can return to his work, voice attractively strained.
"Mm." Caleb gives another low, contented hum that resonates in his chest. Looking up from between the other man's thighs, the slick mess smeared over the lower half of his face belies the almost beatific serenity of his expression. "Ja, natΓΌrlich."
There is no need to give such a reminder any further thought when Yussa's taste is thick on his tongue, and he already has been away from the source for too long. He trusts this man to handle him with care, and likewise in reverse.
Without pause, he puts his new position to use and buries his face between his lover's thighs and licks into him with gusto, the rub of his beard more pronounced now in his enthusiasm. His eyes slip closed again as his tongue drags up, flattened flush to the heat of Yussa's core, lapping along his slit and over his clit. And over, and over. Gods, everything about this experience is intoxicating; it's so easy to lose himself, to stop thinking and just focus on giving pleasure, attuning himself to Yussa's body and following its wordless cues.
Yussa moves easily as Caleb shifts their position, getting his knees over his pale shoulders so that there is nothing to keep the younger man from getting closer.
The contentment in Caleb's expression as he looks up from between Yussa's thighs with a slick mess around his mouth sends a jolt of arousal through him. Gods, but Caleb looks like he belongs there on his knees; like he's perfectly happy to stay there for as long as Yussa wants him to.
Pale lashes flutter as Caleb gets right back to work in a way that makes Yussa's hips jump. He whispers a soft curse - or something that sounds like one - and his fingers tighten in Caleb's hair as his eager tongue rubs over his clit. Yussa sinks back against the couch, relaxing into it as Caleb works him up. He can feel the scratch of Caleb's beard and he finds he doesn't mind it at all, not any more than he did the stubble. It's exciting in its novelty.
"That's it, sweet boy," he sighs as he rubs the back of Caleb's neck. Yussa tries to keep his breathing even, but Caleb's diligent stroking is making that difficult. He tenses briefly as Caleb's tongue slides into him, deeper than a passing stroke, and arches toward his lover's mouth.
Yussa tries to get closer, his legs tense against Caleb's back as he tries to ride his tongue, tipping his hips to follow its progress as it strokes over his clit again. Being with Caleb makes him realize how excited he can be having the younger man in his presence, especially knowing what he's capable of. The fact that Caleb is so intuitive with this as well as his magic is reason enough to want to continue this relationship.
Yussa's legs rest beside the leather straps of the harness he still wears, Caleb's hands on the outside of his thighs keeping them in place. Arousal thrums through him in a warm undercurrent, pleasant but relegated to the back of his mind. His attention is on Yussa's needs, not his own. And he loves how Yussa makes those needs known.
Feeling the older man unwind, relaxing into the couch even as he rolls his hips to chase his tongue, thighs tensing around his head, is proof that his performance is being well received. He gives Yussa a little of what he is looking for, dipping his tongue into the wet, searing heat of him, and then over his clit again, smearing the fresh slick dripping from his cunt against his chin.
The sweet tension of fingers in his hair is soothed by gentler rubbing against the back of his neck, which feels rewarding. Every affirmation is golden spark dancing along his spine, spreading its warmth through his body; as Yussa distractedly caresses and encourages him, that flare becomes brighter, and Caleb moans dazedly, cock throbbing behind the placket of his trousers.
Sweet boy, Yussa sighs again in a perfectly reconstructed echo in his own mind, and Caleb shudders as he licks gently at his folds. Being called such a thing by this man, in praise for this act, is...what it does for him probably isn't something he can name or quantify, especially now. But those words touch something essential in him that has not been handled in a long time. It is embarrassing. It is exhilarating. He would do anything to hear it again. So he gets to work.
Each swipe of his tongue goes deeper; each time he coaxes Yussa's entrance open further, parts his fluttering walls and gives him the kind of penetration he was grinding himself against his face to find. Caleb listens to Yussa's breathing, his Elven cursing, feels the stretching-seeking movements of his body, and when he judges it to be most effectual, dips his tongue deep into the pulsing heat of his core. He shifts a hand, curling his arm around and over a slender thigh, so he can thumb at his clit, so he doesn't have to stop fucking his tongue in and out of Yussa's body.
As much as he wants to watch Caleb work, eventually Yussa closes his eyes and he lets his head rest against a cushion. His chest heaves gently as his breath quickens, driven by the more satisfying stroke of Caleb's tongue as he offers the penetration Yussa's been seeking. And then it licks deeper into him, forcing a soft, almost startled moan from him as his cunt squeezes around Caleb's tongue.
His lover's arm moves, jostling his leg just slightly; Yussa's eyes flash open as Caleb's thumb strokes over the firm shape of his clit, making his hips jump. His thighs tremble as he strains closer, chasing the pressure of his touch and trying to ride Caleb's tongue as it teases in and out of him. His fingers curl tighter, gripping the hair at the back of Caleb's neck.
"Gods--yes, there," he pants, the flush in his face deepening as Caleb works him up. "I should never have doubted your--your memory."
A smile plays across his mouth before another whimper rises in his throat. With the dual onslaught, there's really no holding back. It isn't long before the tension building in him hits a peak. Yussa might be embarrassed if not for how singularly talented the young man between his thighs is. His legs tense as if trying to drag Caleb closer as that tension breaks.
Yussa's orgasm comes with quiet, breathless moans and muscles shaking with strain as he tries to keep his position just so.
"Don't stop," he encourages, his voice and accent heavier. "Don't stop."
Yussa sees no reason not to make up for lost time. He thinks he can reach another relatively quickly if Caleb works him through this one.
Caleb makes a point of watching Yussa when he can. He's almost impossibly attractive in the shadowed lantern light, bare except for his flush, taking his pleasure from Caleb's mouth with a knowing smile and breathless appreciation that almost comes off as pride--pride in Caleb, in his skill and dedication. His memory is very good, and it warms him that Yussa recognizes that is what is happening. He's certainly gone over their previous encounter enough to sear it into his mind. He'd learned much that day about what Yussa enjoys, and he is using that knowledge now to great effect.
Gods, that smile really does get to him. Maybe he just likes that he can make Yussa happy. It's a good look on him.
He uses those memories until Yussa is trembling with the tension rising in his body. His thumb rubs firmly over the hard swell of his clit, and as he feels Yussa's thighs clench against his shoulders, he presses his tongue deeper. Yussa's walls flutter and bear down around it as he moans and clutches tightly at his hair, and Caleb feels lightheaded with the thrill of accomplishment. His grip is a hairsbreadth shy of painful, but Caleb doesn't relent, doesn't stop, which was apparently the correct instinct. Yussa's imperative confirmation is all he needs.
If he has the option to feel Yussa come on his tongue again, why wouldn't he? If anything, he redoubles his efforts. Yussa has his own pace, hips rising to meet him as he unravels further, and Caleb matches it, burying his face against his cunt and devouring him with earnest fervor. His jaw is beginning to twinge with the effort, but that isn't any more difficult to ignore than his achingly hard cock. While very aware of how it's affecting him to fuck Yussa through his orgasm and keep going as the other man shakes against his mouth, he remains focused; it's a space he's happy to exist in.
Yussa doesn't quite stop trembling as Caleb keeps after him. He presses his lips together like he means to silence himself, but it does little to stop the whine in the back of his throat as Caleb works him through one orgasm and very quickly toward a second. His entire body is taut, teetering on the razor's edge of release. He has not attempted multiples in the intervening time, and somehow it's simply more satisfying to get them from someone else. From Caleb, whose enjoyment in giving pleasure is intoxicating.
Through the haze of his afterglow bleeding into another rising peak, it occurs to Yussa that perhaps he should put less pressure on Caleb's head, but he trusts the younger man to make him aware if he can't properly breath. And Caleb is stronger than him, he shouldn't have a real struggle to pull away if that's what he needs.
Unthinking, he gives a gentle pull, attempting to guide Caleb's mouth back to his clit. The stroke of his thumb is lovely, but Yussa wants something... warmer. Wetter. A different sort of finesse.
"That's it," he whispers, voice tight. "Let me feel your fingers, sweet boy."
Tugging him by his hair, even gently, proves a very effective way to give Caleb direction. That Yussa doesn't hesitate to do so is especially compelling. The way he takes control is so effortless, so absolute, despite the way he trembles with pleasure. Caleb feels well taken care of, and very much appreciated. He could do this for a long while, he thinks, warmth spreading through him as he earns a repetition of that newly coveted endearment. This kind of contentment is something he can't get anywhere else.
Swapping things up at Yussa's request is nearly effortless. His arm withdraws as slick lips close around the hard swell of his clit, sucking lightly. Hand repositioned between Yussa's legs, Caleb drags his middle and index fingers up and down through his folds, soaked with Yussa's arousal and his own saliva. The rough pads of his fingers stroke and circle the sensitive opening of his cunt, testing the give of his entrance. He feels inviting, soft and wet, but Caleb remembers the patient, careful fingering Yussa needed months ago, how tight he was around just one even after coming.
The anticipation of feeling that again, of coaxing Yussa's body gently open, sends a bolt of raw need straight to his cock, startlingly strong. He squeezes his eyes shut as his vision briefly swims.
When Caleb eases his index finger past his opening, he's glad for his caution. Yussa's body yields as he presses slowly deeper, wonderfully aroused and seemingly eager for firmer penetration than his tongue can provide, and he's able to bury his finger all the way to the last knuckle quite smoothly. But where one is perfectly cradled in his tight heat, two would have been too much right away. Instead of a thrusting motion, he crooks his finger and rubs against the silky pressure of Yussa's walls to a rhythm that will compliment the avid attention of his mouth, feeling the clench of inner muscle and pushing back against it.
Caleb's shift is almost effortless and Yussa shudders as his mouth, wet and hot and perfect, closes around his aching clit. He whispers breathless praise and soon enough he can feel his lover's clever fingers rubbing against his opening, spreading the wetness there. It's been months and he can't help the sigh that escapes him as a single finger presses into him. He takes it easily enough, but realizes Caleb may have been wise to use just one - a lover who is turning out to be more prudent than Yussa is at times.
That is what his body needs and wants, though: the firmer pressure of Caleb's finger inside him as slick walls bear down eagerly. His stomach goes taut and he drags at Caleb's head as his finger curls inside him, stroking against his inner walls rather than thrusting. Gods, but that is perfect. He works his hips in small thrusts, chasing the friction there. Small as the movement is, it still ensures that he is grinding into Caleb's mouth as well.
Caleb's expertise and patience pays off: once he starts that steady stroking, and as his lips and tongue work him just as intently, Yussa feels himself rapidly hitting a new crest of pleasure. Like a wave, it crashes - harder than he thought it would so close on the heels of the first. Yussa comes in another cascade of muscle tremors, panting heavily, though he doesn't cry out this time. But surely Caleb will not mistake the sudden lack of vocal input for a lack of pleasure as Yussa clutches his head and his arm as he rides out the intensity of it.
Yussa slumps back against the couch as clenched muscles go loose. Where he had been pulling Caleb against him, now he gently nudges his head away while he still has any strength in his grip. Even so, he makes no attempt to move his legs, keeping them over Caleb's shoulders.
Gods, giving Yussa what he needs feels so good. Caleb has always loved giving pleasure, but dedicating himself entirely to Yussa this way, seeing the effect he has and earning his praise, is a satisfaction all its own. He gets lost in Yussa's demands, the way he holds his head to fuck his mouth, and his awareness of everything but Yussa is muted and dulled.
As he persists with decadent suction, swirls of tongue, and the deep, firm strokes of his finger, it doesn't take long to bring Yussa to the second peak he's been striving for. He feels it in the twitching tightening of his walls first, and then the tremor seems to break over the rest of his body, making him arch and shake. It feels intense, so much that it robs Yussa of his voice. Dedicated, Caleb licks more delicately over his clit and massages his cunt steadily as Yussa clings to him and comes.
He slows as the tension seeps from the other man's taut form until he is drained, his weary body sinking back into the couch. Caleb's head is pushed weakly away, so he nuzzles against Yussa's inner thigh instead, the slickness around his mouth smearing against soft brown skin. His finger doesn't withdraw, but goes still where it is buried inside him as Yussa continues to tiredly pulse around it.
Caleb's eyes slide open again, pupils blown dark and wide, but he looks up without expectation, flushed and disheveled and pleased with what he's accomplished.
Yussa's fingers rub lazily against Caleb's scalp as the younger man eases back enough to nuzzle against his thigh. He opens his eyes to drink in the sight of Caleb between his legs, blue eyes dark with need and yet utterly without demand. His mouth is red and slick with his efforts with further evidence of Yussa's pleasure down his chin.
"How handsome you are," he murmurs, soft and content. His fingers slip from Caleb's hair to brush across his cheek in an affectionate gesture. "Very impressive, Caleb Widogast. I think you have earned relief."
His fingers drift to gently tip Caleb's chin before he drops his hand away. Yussa still feels heavy and boneless in his afterglow, and he is not entirely sure that he is ready to rush into another round, but he at least wants Caleb to know that there is an end in sight for his own ignored arousal.
Warmth floods him again, separate from but also linked to his arousal, as Yussa looks him over and calls him handsome, impressive, tracing his fingers tenderly over his cheek. That he has earned relief--oh, that is a sweet prospect. It means he's done well. To receive pleasure because Yussa has decided he's worked hard enough for it renders quiet the part of him that might otherwise protest that he is undeserving.
He is more aware of the ache between his legs now than he has been all evening. Still, he finds that he is not impatient. Even as he realizes how desperately he wants touch, wants release, he doesn't want it more than he wants Yussa's approval. He would go without tonight, he realizes, if Yussa decided he should. In the pleasant, dreamy haze that's encompassed his mind, it makes perfect sense.
Sitting back on his heels, he slowly slips his finger free, though he misses the sensation of lazily fluttering wet heat immediately. Caleb lifts his head and straightens his spine, careful not to dislodge Yussa's legs from his shoulders if they are comfortable there. His knees are spread where they are planted on the floor, and in his lap the bulge of his erection beneath his trousers could not be more obscenely obvious. His skin is hot beneath his clothes. Sweat beads at the small of his back and the nape of his neck, dampening the tangled hair Yussa has been playing with. The sheen of Yussa's pleasure making his lips shine red and wet dampens his beard as well. Even fully dressed, he makes a sordid picture.
"I am happy to know I have pleased you," he answers honestly. The sound of his own voice, warm and rasping, almost surprises him. He hasn't spoken since he went to his knees. There were better uses for his mouth. "If you think it is earned, then I--I would be very grateful."
Yussa keeps his gaze on Caleb as the younger man sits up more, though he's careful not to jostle Yussa's legs too much - an impressive effort. The way that Caleb seems to glow under the praise includes Yussa to offer it more, though he will not be too loose with it, lest it seem unearned.
His hand moves, making the somatic gesture as he speaks the words for Prestidigitation - just to clean Caleb's face a bit. It does nothing for the younger man's flushed face or how used he looks, and Yussa is content to leave it at that.
"You have, thoroughly," he says to Caleb's rasping answering. Gods, the husk of his voice is irresistible. "What should I reward such effort with, I wonder?"
Yussa takes a moment more to admire the younger man, then gives him a gentle nudge with his thigh.
"First, undress. There's no need for you to sweat through your clothes." The terrace has a lovely breeze coming through, but Caleb has done plenty to get overheated. Yussa moves his legs so that he can sit up and set Caleb free. He allows the other man to resume undressing before he speaks again. His golden eyes are dark with intent and a small smirk plays on his mouth as he asks:
Though Caleb is utterly weak to praise, Yussa correctly identifies that it should not be given excessively. There is a fine line; it has to feel earned, or it's no good. Hence the reason this scenario appeals to him so much.
Face magically cleaned and instructed in no uncertain terms to undress, Caleb braces a hand against the couch, leveraging himself to his feet as soon as Yussa's legs slip from his shoulders. His knees complain, but that is a small price to pay for the contentment he'd found there.
As Yussa playfully contemplates what reward he is willing to grant, Caleb obediently unbuckles his holster and slides the leather straps down his arms, setting his precious books aside on the table before he turns back to the other wizard. Pulling his simple shirt up over his head reveals a familiar lean torso Yussa is already familiar with, pale skin contrasted with freckles and dark red hair. He lets his shirt fall where it will, not nearly so concerned about his own garments as he had been with Yussa's.
Drawn to the archmage's golden eyes and coy smirk, Caleb is an open book; the heady stab of pure want he feels at Yussa's suggestion is plain on his face. Perhaps he might have anticipated it, but he didn't want to assume. With how hard he is, he would have been happy to accept any prize Yussa offered him. He swallows, tasting Yussa still, even after prestidigtation.
"Ja, very much," he husks. There is no denying that he had hoped for this, just maybe, since Yussa asked for his fingers; no pretending he hasn't been aching for it since learning how good it feels to be inside him months ago. "If that is what you want." Yussa is the one determining what he is worthy of.
Caleb doesn't take his eyes off him as he reaches for his belt, sliding the leather free of the buckle with smooth, precise movements. Deft fingers undo the buttons of his trousers one by one, and his breath leaves him in a soft hiss as much of the pressure on his cock is eased at last.
"I have wanted it for months," he says with a warm smile. This may be a reward for Caleb, but Yussa intends to enjoy it too. He admires Caleb as he undresses, noting the small changes in his physique since the last time he had this view. Feeling more steady, Yussa rises to his feet with as much grace as he can muster. He brushes back his pale hair and makes his way over to a chaise, which affords them more options in terms or how they position themselves.
He pauses near Caleb, leaning up to give him a kiss at the corner of his mouth.
"You'll need to work me open," he says as he pulls away, somehow commanding the space just as effectively as he would while draped in his elaborate robes. "You may position me as you like, since you'll need to do the work."
Yussa voices Caleb's own thoughts, and he can't resist returning his smile as he tugs his boots off. Gods, it makes him giddy to think of Yussa spending all this time wanting him, too. He's halfway through pulling his trousers down when he gets distracted by Yussa, confident and bare--and then further distracted as he stops to kiss him. His breath catches softly, and his heart leaps in his chest.
"That is very okay," he assures, raising both brows for emphasis. "I am glad to put in the effort."
He gets his trousers off, finally, then his smalls. When he is as bare as Yussa, he joins him on the chaise. After pressing a kiss to his temple, nosing at his pale curls, he settles back, claiming a space for himself reclined comfortably against the raised back. His cock is heavy, wet at the tip, and darkly flushed between his long legs, extended in front of him to stretch muscles made tight by kneeling. Beside him, he has left plenty of room for Yussa, and he holds an arm out as though he means for him to curl up against his side.
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Yussa's camisole hangs from one hand, and then he lets it flutter down onto the couch behind him, because he can't turn away yet. He hasn't even been touched before this, but arousal pulses through him, dizzyingly potent. Gods above, this man is attractive. What hasn't he been recalling from that afternoon? His fingers find the edge of the bandeau.
"I have thought about laying between your legs and putting my mouth to you for the first time. That first taste of you." His voice, softened and husky, fills the space between them. He peels the clinging fabric up and feels his knuckles brush the soft curve of a small breast. He drags it carefully up over Yussa's head, baring his chest to his hungry gaze. Remembering perfectly how beautiful Yussa is with his clothes off doesn't dim his current appreciation in the slightest. "The heat against my tongue, how wet you were, how you sounded when I pressed deeper."
If his cock isn't hard enough for the shape to be obvious against the front of his trousers by now, he would be shocked. The bandeau leaves his hand the same way as the camisole had, and his fingers finally dip just past the waistband of his lover's smalls, beginning to drag that last and simplest garment down over his hips. Laying Yussa bare while he is still fully dressed himself is heady in a way Caleb couldn't have anticipated.
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"I was very pleased by how eager you were the moment you knew it was allowed. Desired."
His smalls are easy to remove: it takes little coaxing for the soft fabric to fall away. A keen eye might catch the damp spot on the pale fabric as it slides lower. Yussa reaches for Caleb again, utterly taken with the hunger in the younger man's eyes.
"Do you wish to show off for me again, Caleb Widogast?" Despite being nearly naked while Caleb is fully dressed, Yussa still commands the space between them effortlessly. Soft fingertips lightly touch Caleb's lips. "Do you still hunger for what I have to offer?"
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Caleb's breath is shallow, all the heat of his singular focus on Yussa. Copper lashes flutter and lids lower over darkened eyes as the archmage traces his slightly chapped lips, his body's reaction outsized for how the touch barely ghosts against his skin. He nearly whimpers.
"Currently, Master Errenis, there is nothing I want more."
With Yussa now bare, Caleb's hands are free to explore him with another purpose. He reaches for the back of his thighs to draw him closer, to demonstrate his eagerness tangibly. The power this man holds over him, so confident and in control even stripped of his intimidating finery, is intoxicating.
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"Since you are so eager, I give you this choice: do you wish to be on your knees or your back? If the former, let me sit. If the latter, up onto the chaise with you."
His mind is already rushing ahead and it takes more patience than he thought it would to wait for an answer: he can remember vividly the feel of Caleb's tongue, the intensity of his attention and his focus. And the pleasure he takes from being of such... service.
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Ultimately, however, he would like a little more freedom to move tonight, to show off the way Yussa has invited him to, which is enough to solve his indecision.
"The former for now, please," he requests, hoarse but polite. His hands slide back down Yussa's legs before releasing them, and he sits back to give the older man space to return to the chaise and make himself comfortable. He'll happily follow on his knees.
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Slowly, he spreads his legs to make space for Caleb between them. He is wet and there is a flush of arousal in his cheeks, but he knows that even this is something Caleb can improve on. The lanterns cast warm light, taking over as the sun disappears beyond the horizon.
He knows he does not need to, but he crooks his fingers in invitation once he is comfortable, golden eyes intent on the younger man. The way Caleb looks at him, the sort of hazy expression he gets, is probably far more appealing than it should be. Yussa likes that Caleb seems to be succumbing to a spell, when the only influence Yussa wields in the moment is the strength of Caleb's desire.
"At your leisure, Caleb Widogast."
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He doesn't waste a moment. On his knees, he crawls between the older man's legs, laying warm, calloused hands against the inside of lithe brown thighs and drawing close. He leans forward over Yussa's lap, nuzzling lightly against his stomach to press his lips over the angle of a sharp hip bone. The scent of his arousal is strong and heady, and it makes Caleb's mouth water.
He is charmed the old-fashioned way, eager to please and more than a little desperate to taste this gorgeous man's cunt.
Still, he makes himself work up to it, savoring the softness of Yussa's skin beneath his hands and lips. Rubbing his thumbs over his folds to spread them, Caleb's mouth works lower, from Yussa's hip down the center of his body. The last time they did this, he had a little stubble, but this time it's a full beard rubbing against sensitive skin at the crux of Yussa's thighs. A moan bubbles up from his throat as his seeking tongue swipes over the swell of his lover's stiff clit, and after wetting his lips, he immediately goes back for more.
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He relaxes more as Caleb's thumbs stroke over him, spreading him open as his lover's mouth trails lower. It's a sweet exploration that belies Caleb's eagerness, and he finds himself charmed by it. He also finds himself very aware of the way his body responds: the slow, methodical undressing spurred his arousal, and feeling Caleb so close now makes it spike. Yussa can't help the way his breath catches when he feels the rougher texture of Caleb's beard against tender flesh; the first sweep of his lover's tongue against him sends a jolt straight through his core.
Gods, he has missed this. Yussa lets go of a sigh and strokes his fingers into Caleb's hair, holding loosely in encouragement as his tongue returns for another seeking lick. "That's it," he murmurs, fingers rubbing lightly against Caleb's scalp. "I'm quite gratified to know you have thought of this since the first time. You made quite the impression."
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He knows what is happening. He is letting go, passing his control to Yussa. Lifting that burden from his shoulders makes him feel so light, so free he's nearly giddy. Yussa doesn't need him to make choices, he doesn't need him to have a single thought in his head; he needs him to be a willing mouth, receptive and pliant, and he is. It's exhilarating. Yussa will decide what he deserves.
Lifting his heavy gaze up through thick copper lashes, he finds Yussa's face, and heat scorches through him all over again, prickling the already flushed skin beneath his clothes, pooling between his hips where his cock aches, inconsequential. The archmage is watching him with clear appreciation, and Caleb feels like he never wants to move from this spot. He belongs here. The slick heat of Yussa's cunt is too close to resist, and he doesn't look away as he slides a bare half-inch down to press his tongue to the center of that heat. Folds parted by the gentle caress of his thumbs, he licks with ease over his entrance, then in.
Gods, yes, he thought of this. The taste of him, the feel of him--hot, soft, fluttering around his tongue. He didn't mean to let his eyes slip closed, just as he didn't mean to moan again, but he does both. His mouth opens wider so he can fuck his tongue deeper, slick lips smearing over Yussa's clit and beard scraping against more tender skin.
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Caleb's tongue slips lower and Yussa's fingers tighten briefly, a soft moan of his own echoing Caleb's as he teases his entrance. For a moment, he's unsure if the rush of wetness he feels is from his own arousal or from the slick feeling of Caleb's tongue pushing into him. Possibly both at this rate. His thighs spread further, as if he can urge Caleb closer than he already is.
Yussa breathes in sharply at the unique feeling of Caleb's beard dragging against sensitive skin. It isn't quite like the sandpaper scrape of his stubble the last time his face was between his thighs, but it still makes him squirm, adjusting the angle of his hips like he is seeking it. How else can he decide if he likes it?
"I feel--I feel compelled to remind you of our agreement," he gasps out as Caleb's tongue strokes into him again. "You must tell me if there is anything I should not do, or if I should cross a line. And I will give you the same courtesy."
Yussa's voice is tight as he tries to keep it even; there is a waver, despite his best efforts, as Caleb's lip puts pressure against his clit.
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"Mm." Caleb gives another low, contented hum that resonates in his chest. Looking up from between the other man's thighs, the slick mess smeared over the lower half of his face belies the almost beatific serenity of his expression. "Ja, natΓΌrlich."
There is no need to give such a reminder any further thought when Yussa's taste is thick on his tongue, and he already has been away from the source for too long. He trusts this man to handle him with care, and likewise in reverse.
Without pause, he puts his new position to use and buries his face between his lover's thighs and licks into him with gusto, the rub of his beard more pronounced now in his enthusiasm. His eyes slip closed again as his tongue drags up, flattened flush to the heat of Yussa's core, lapping along his slit and over his clit. And over, and over. Gods, everything about this experience is intoxicating; it's so easy to lose himself, to stop thinking and just focus on giving pleasure, attuning himself to Yussa's body and following its wordless cues.
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The contentment in Caleb's expression as he looks up from between Yussa's thighs with a slick mess around his mouth sends a jolt of arousal through him. Gods, but Caleb looks like he belongs there on his knees; like he's perfectly happy to stay there for as long as Yussa wants him to.
Pale lashes flutter as Caleb gets right back to work in a way that makes Yussa's hips jump. He whispers a soft curse - or something that sounds like one - and his fingers tighten in Caleb's hair as his eager tongue rubs over his clit. Yussa sinks back against the couch, relaxing into it as Caleb works him up. He can feel the scratch of Caleb's beard and he finds he doesn't mind it at all, not any more than he did the stubble. It's exciting in its novelty.
"That's it, sweet boy," he sighs as he rubs the back of Caleb's neck. Yussa tries to keep his breathing even, but Caleb's diligent stroking is making that difficult. He tenses briefly as Caleb's tongue slides into him, deeper than a passing stroke, and arches toward his lover's mouth.
Yussa tries to get closer, his legs tense against Caleb's back as he tries to ride his tongue, tipping his hips to follow its progress as it strokes over his clit again. Being with Caleb makes him realize how excited he can be having the younger man in his presence, especially knowing what he's capable of. The fact that Caleb is so intuitive with this as well as his magic is reason enough to want to continue this relationship.
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Feeling the older man unwind, relaxing into the couch even as he rolls his hips to chase his tongue, thighs tensing around his head, is proof that his performance is being well received. He gives Yussa a little of what he is looking for, dipping his tongue into the wet, searing heat of him, and then over his clit again, smearing the fresh slick dripping from his cunt against his chin.
The sweet tension of fingers in his hair is soothed by gentler rubbing against the back of his neck, which feels rewarding. Every affirmation is golden spark dancing along his spine, spreading its warmth through his body; as Yussa distractedly caresses and encourages him, that flare becomes brighter, and Caleb moans dazedly, cock throbbing behind the placket of his trousers.
Sweet boy, Yussa sighs again in a perfectly reconstructed echo in his own mind, and Caleb shudders as he licks gently at his folds. Being called such a thing by this man, in praise for this act, is...what it does for him probably isn't something he can name or quantify, especially now. But those words touch something essential in him that has not been handled in a long time. It is embarrassing. It is exhilarating. He would do anything to hear it again. So he gets to work.
Each swipe of his tongue goes deeper; each time he coaxes Yussa's entrance open further, parts his fluttering walls and gives him the kind of penetration he was grinding himself against his face to find. Caleb listens to Yussa's breathing, his Elven cursing, feels the stretching-seeking movements of his body, and when he judges it to be most effectual, dips his tongue deep into the pulsing heat of his core. He shifts a hand, curling his arm around and over a slender thigh, so he can thumb at his clit, so he doesn't have to stop fucking his tongue in and out of Yussa's body.
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His lover's arm moves, jostling his leg just slightly; Yussa's eyes flash open as Caleb's thumb strokes over the firm shape of his clit, making his hips jump. His thighs tremble as he strains closer, chasing the pressure of his touch and trying to ride Caleb's tongue as it teases in and out of him. His fingers curl tighter, gripping the hair at the back of Caleb's neck.
"Gods--yes, there," he pants, the flush in his face deepening as Caleb works him up. "I should never have doubted your--your memory."
A smile plays across his mouth before another whimper rises in his throat. With the dual onslaught, there's really no holding back. It isn't long before the tension building in him hits a peak. Yussa might be embarrassed if not for how singularly talented the young man between his thighs is. His legs tense as if trying to drag Caleb closer as that tension breaks.
Yussa's orgasm comes with quiet, breathless moans and muscles shaking with strain as he tries to keep his position just so.
"Don't stop," he encourages, his voice and accent heavier. "Don't stop."
Yussa sees no reason not to make up for lost time. He thinks he can reach another relatively quickly if Caleb works him through this one.
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Gods, that smile really does get to him. Maybe he just likes that he can make Yussa happy. It's a good look on him.
He uses those memories until Yussa is trembling with the tension rising in his body. His thumb rubs firmly over the hard swell of his clit, and as he feels Yussa's thighs clench against his shoulders, he presses his tongue deeper. Yussa's walls flutter and bear down around it as he moans and clutches tightly at his hair, and Caleb feels lightheaded with the thrill of accomplishment. His grip is a hairsbreadth shy of painful, but Caleb doesn't relent, doesn't stop, which was apparently the correct instinct. Yussa's imperative confirmation is all he needs.
If he has the option to feel Yussa come on his tongue again, why wouldn't he? If anything, he redoubles his efforts. Yussa has his own pace, hips rising to meet him as he unravels further, and Caleb matches it, burying his face against his cunt and devouring him with earnest fervor. His jaw is beginning to twinge with the effort, but that isn't any more difficult to ignore than his achingly hard cock. While very aware of how it's affecting him to fuck Yussa through his orgasm and keep going as the other man shakes against his mouth, he remains focused; it's a space he's happy to exist in.
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Through the haze of his afterglow bleeding into another rising peak, it occurs to Yussa that perhaps he should put less pressure on Caleb's head, but he trusts the younger man to make him aware if he can't properly breath. And Caleb is stronger than him, he shouldn't have a real struggle to pull away if that's what he needs.
Unthinking, he gives a gentle pull, attempting to guide Caleb's mouth back to his clit. The stroke of his thumb is lovely, but Yussa wants something... warmer. Wetter. A different sort of finesse.
"That's it," he whispers, voice tight. "Let me feel your fingers, sweet boy."
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Swapping things up at Yussa's request is nearly effortless. His arm withdraws as slick lips close around the hard swell of his clit, sucking lightly. Hand repositioned between Yussa's legs, Caleb drags his middle and index fingers up and down through his folds, soaked with Yussa's arousal and his own saliva. The rough pads of his fingers stroke and circle the sensitive opening of his cunt, testing the give of his entrance. He feels inviting, soft and wet, but Caleb remembers the patient, careful fingering Yussa needed months ago, how tight he was around just one even after coming.
The anticipation of feeling that again, of coaxing Yussa's body gently open, sends a bolt of raw need straight to his cock, startlingly strong. He squeezes his eyes shut as his vision briefly swims.
When Caleb eases his index finger past his opening, he's glad for his caution. Yussa's body yields as he presses slowly deeper, wonderfully aroused and seemingly eager for firmer penetration than his tongue can provide, and he's able to bury his finger all the way to the last knuckle quite smoothly. But where one is perfectly cradled in his tight heat, two would have been too much right away. Instead of a thrusting motion, he crooks his finger and rubs against the silky pressure of Yussa's walls to a rhythm that will compliment the avid attention of his mouth, feeling the clench of inner muscle and pushing back against it.
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That is what his body needs and wants, though: the firmer pressure of Caleb's finger inside him as slick walls bear down eagerly. His stomach goes taut and he drags at Caleb's head as his finger curls inside him, stroking against his inner walls rather than thrusting. Gods, but that is perfect. He works his hips in small thrusts, chasing the friction there. Small as the movement is, it still ensures that he is grinding into Caleb's mouth as well.
Caleb's expertise and patience pays off: once he starts that steady stroking, and as his lips and tongue work him just as intently, Yussa feels himself rapidly hitting a new crest of pleasure. Like a wave, it crashes - harder than he thought it would so close on the heels of the first. Yussa comes in another cascade of muscle tremors, panting heavily, though he doesn't cry out this time. But surely Caleb will not mistake the sudden lack of vocal input for a lack of pleasure as Yussa clutches his head and his arm as he rides out the intensity of it.
Yussa slumps back against the couch as clenched muscles go loose. Where he had been pulling Caleb against him, now he gently nudges his head away while he still has any strength in his grip. Even so, he makes no attempt to move his legs, keeping them over Caleb's shoulders.
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As he persists with decadent suction, swirls of tongue, and the deep, firm strokes of his finger, it doesn't take long to bring Yussa to the second peak he's been striving for. He feels it in the twitching tightening of his walls first, and then the tremor seems to break over the rest of his body, making him arch and shake. It feels intense, so much that it robs Yussa of his voice. Dedicated, Caleb licks more delicately over his clit and massages his cunt steadily as Yussa clings to him and comes.
He slows as the tension seeps from the other man's taut form until he is drained, his weary body sinking back into the couch. Caleb's head is pushed weakly away, so he nuzzles against Yussa's inner thigh instead, the slickness around his mouth smearing against soft brown skin. His finger doesn't withdraw, but goes still where it is buried inside him as Yussa continues to tiredly pulse around it.
Caleb's eyes slide open again, pupils blown dark and wide, but he looks up without expectation, flushed and disheveled and pleased with what he's accomplished.
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"How handsome you are," he murmurs, soft and content. His fingers slip from Caleb's hair to brush across his cheek in an affectionate gesture. "Very impressive, Caleb Widogast. I think you have earned relief."
His fingers drift to gently tip Caleb's chin before he drops his hand away. Yussa still feels heavy and boneless in his afterglow, and he is not entirely sure that he is ready to rush into another round, but he at least wants Caleb to know that there is an end in sight for his own ignored arousal.
"What do you think of that?"
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He is more aware of the ache between his legs now than he has been all evening. Still, he finds that he is not impatient. Even as he realizes how desperately he wants touch, wants release, he doesn't want it more than he wants Yussa's approval. He would go without tonight, he realizes, if Yussa decided he should. In the pleasant, dreamy haze that's encompassed his mind, it makes perfect sense.
Sitting back on his heels, he slowly slips his finger free, though he misses the sensation of lazily fluttering wet heat immediately. Caleb lifts his head and straightens his spine, careful not to dislodge Yussa's legs from his shoulders if they are comfortable there. His knees are spread where they are planted on the floor, and in his lap the bulge of his erection beneath his trousers could not be more obscenely obvious. His skin is hot beneath his clothes. Sweat beads at the small of his back and the nape of his neck, dampening the tangled hair Yussa has been playing with. The sheen of Yussa's pleasure making his lips shine red and wet dampens his beard as well. Even fully dressed, he makes a sordid picture.
"I am happy to know I have pleased you," he answers honestly. The sound of his own voice, warm and rasping, almost surprises him. He hasn't spoken since he went to his knees. There were better uses for his mouth. "If you think it is earned, then I--I would be very grateful."
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His hand moves, making the somatic gesture as he speaks the words for Prestidigitation - just to clean Caleb's face a bit. It does nothing for the younger man's flushed face or how used he looks, and Yussa is content to leave it at that.
"You have, thoroughly," he says to Caleb's rasping answering. Gods, the husk of his voice is irresistible. "What should I reward such effort with, I wonder?"
Yussa takes a moment more to admire the younger man, then gives him a gentle nudge with his thigh.
"First, undress. There's no need for you to sweat through your clothes." The terrace has a lovely breeze coming through, but Caleb has done plenty to get overheated. Yussa moves his legs so that he can sit up and set Caleb free. He allows the other man to resume undressing before he speaks again. His golden eyes are dark with intent and a small smirk plays on his mouth as he asks:
"Would you like to fuck me, Caleb Widogast?"
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Face magically cleaned and instructed in no uncertain terms to undress, Caleb braces a hand against the couch, leveraging himself to his feet as soon as Yussa's legs slip from his shoulders. His knees complain, but that is a small price to pay for the contentment he'd found there.
As Yussa playfully contemplates what reward he is willing to grant, Caleb obediently unbuckles his holster and slides the leather straps down his arms, setting his precious books aside on the table before he turns back to the other wizard. Pulling his simple shirt up over his head reveals a familiar lean torso Yussa is already familiar with, pale skin contrasted with freckles and dark red hair. He lets his shirt fall where it will, not nearly so concerned about his own garments as he had been with Yussa's.
Drawn to the archmage's golden eyes and coy smirk, Caleb is an open book; the heady stab of pure want he feels at Yussa's suggestion is plain on his face. Perhaps he might have anticipated it, but he didn't want to assume. With how hard he is, he would have been happy to accept any prize Yussa offered him. He swallows, tasting Yussa still, even after prestidigtation.
"Ja, very much," he husks. There is no denying that he had hoped for this, just maybe, since Yussa asked for his fingers; no pretending he hasn't been aching for it since learning how good it feels to be inside him months ago. "If that is what you want." Yussa is the one determining what he is worthy of.
Caleb doesn't take his eyes off him as he reaches for his belt, sliding the leather free of the buckle with smooth, precise movements. Deft fingers undo the buttons of his trousers one by one, and his breath leaves him in a soft hiss as much of the pressure on his cock is eased at last.
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He pauses near Caleb, leaning up to give him a kiss at the corner of his mouth.
"You'll need to work me open," he says as he pulls away, somehow commanding the space just as effectively as he would while draped in his elaborate robes. "You may position me as you like, since you'll need to do the work."
Yussa will add his input if he feels the need.
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"That is very okay," he assures, raising both brows for emphasis. "I am glad to put in the effort."
He gets his trousers off, finally, then his smalls. When he is as bare as Yussa, he joins him on the chaise. After pressing a kiss to his temple, nosing at his pale curls, he settles back, claiming a space for himself reclined comfortably against the raised back. His cock is heavy, wet at the tip, and darkly flushed between his long legs, extended in front of him to stretch muscles made tight by kneeling. Beside him, he has left plenty of room for Yussa, and he holds an arm out as though he means for him to curl up against his side.
"Why don't you join me here, for now?"
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