Gods, he really is in a state, and Caleb is the one who put him there. He says a quiet thank you when the other man agrees with a weak nod to be moved, and he is as gentle as he can be while he does so. Caleb is not so strong, but Yussa is not so big either, and he manages without too much trouble to at least shift him onto his side, where he can wrap his arms around him and pull him close, soothing him when he whines at the slight jostling. One loops beneath him around his waist and the other hand brushes the clinging strands of hair from his face before it settles on his ass, that possessiveness remaining even as Caleb treats him with unwavering tenderness.
Finding his slightly parted lips impossible to resist, he them first, soft and slow, licking into his mouth regardless of whether or not Yussa is able to actively return it. From there he trails kisses along the elven wizard's warm skin down his neck and over his collarbone, which he grazes his teeth over and sucks on ever so gently.
"I adore you," he murmurs, any hesitation removed by the strange energy of this place. "It is no wonder I want you constantly when you make me feel like this."
Yussa eases onto his side with Caleb's help and coaxing and he curls close to the other man as a warm, soothing hand strokes through his hair and down his back. Another little sound escapes as it rests over the curve of his ass, holding onto him and yet gentle.
He doesn't resist the kiss Caleb gives him, but he does tilt his head toward it, welcoming the sweep of his lover's tongue. Yussa rests his head again, eyes drifting shut as Caleb continues down his neck and over his collar, where works on leaving a faint mark. Yussa summons the strength to stroke his fingers into Caleb's hair, his hand resting there heavily.
The confession earns a tired smile and the elf tips his head down to kiss Caleb's hair.
"You are dear to me," he says quietly, voice soft and wrecked. It isn't something he would be compelled to confess so soon, but he suspects that, too, is the Feywild's influence. Well, it's been said now. He won't deny it.
Surprised and moved that Yussa has stirred even enough to stroke his hair or sweetly kiss his head in response, Caleb is startled to hear his voice, even quiet and distinctly rough.
His own confession couldn't have come as much of a surprise. He's been calling Yussa by specific Zemnian terms of endearment in bed (and occasionally out of bed) for nearly as long as they have been involved, and he knows he hasn't been subtle about his affection or his admiration. But to have the sentiment returned in Yussa's way makes him giddy, heart leaping in his chest. He kisses his neck again, then his cheek, right at the corner of his mouth.
"I am happy to hear it." He sounds happy, warm and fond and even a little eager, despite how tired he is. He'd known Yussa was fond of him. There is no way he would actually desire his presence, let alone want to share all of the intimacies they have--both sexual and otherwise--if he wasn't. But being dear to him is more than that. It feels like more, at least.
After all of that, it is also reassuring. Sex here, particularly that last time, has been incredible, but intense. It seemed clear that Yussa was enjoying it immensely, but Caleb has always liked to talk afterward, even if it is only a few words of confirmation.
His hand slides down over Caleb's cheek, pushing with what strength he can muster to guide him into another kiss. Uncoordinated, soft, but sentimental all the same. When they part again, Yussa sighs and tucks against Caleb. He's exhausted, and while he is somewhat concerned that they shouldn't sleep here, he can't... remember how to get back to where they were. There has to be a way.
His fingers brush lightly over Caleb's chest.
"Do you need to rest?" he asks after a moment. If Caleb is feeling hale enough, perhaps he can keep watch while Yussa takes a bit of time to recover. Once he's done that, he can make a more concerted effort to find a way back out of this little pocket of the Feywild.
Oh, this is nice. A small smile lingers on Caleb's lips after the kiss breaks, and he holds Yussa close, nuzzling down into his hair.
"I do," he admits reluctantly. Whatever effect is responsible for his enhanced virility has left him utterly exhausted now that it seems to have faded. "All of that wore me out quite a bit. But I can put up a dome so that we can rest without worrying about what might sneak up on us."
It's the least he can do, and it feels like it isn't enough. He is the reason they had to stop at all--because he was susceptible to the influence of something here. And though the immediate need for sex has faded, he still doesn't feel entirely like himself.
He'd completely forgotten about Caleb's dome. Yussa has been reluctant to cast too much in here, but the dome is a reasonable protection and so he nods when Caleb offers it. He wants to sleep. He doesn't think he'll need very long, but the dome will ensure nothing gets to them in the meantime and it will allow Caleb to fully rest as well.
Yussa stays awake long enough to be sure that Caleb has no trouble casting.
Once the dome is up, however, the archmage allows himself to drift off, giving in to the exhaustion pulling at him - also seemingly more potent here in the Feywild, or perhaps just a testament to how thoroughly Caleb Widogast can wear him out.
Caleb manages the ten-minute ritual cast to get the dome up around them without anything getting too weird, followed by a few casts of prestidigitation to get them both cleaned up. Yussa has already slipped into his rest by the time he's finished, asleep rather than trancing. He doesn't resist being gathered close again, and in fact he barely stirs when Caleb guides his head to rest against his shoulder.
Exhaustion only seems to have crept up more heavily as the minutes passed, and with Yussa against him, warm and familiar, it takes barely any time at all for him to fall asleep.
When he is woken several hours later, it is still as dark as it was before but for the golden lights in the branches above them, and nothing in their vicinity seems to have changed. Caleb blinks once, blearily, then closes his eyes again, determined to go back to sleep. But what's woken him isn't external--it's his own body. Still barely awake, Caleb registers the insistent ache of arousal. He's hard again, likely has been for some time. His erection is trapped between his stomach and Yussa's, perhaps even encouraged by the occasional friction of skin in sleep.
Yussa hasn't stirred. He still doesn't when Caleb reaches between them and angles his cock between his thighs instead, grinding along his slit. He's no longer soaked as he was earlier, but far from dry. His folds are pleasantly slick, especially around his entrance, and flushed hot with arousal. He can feel how stiff his clit is, pressed against his cock. Caleb's hips roll slowly, mindlessly, barely considering what he does beyond the immediate need to relieve this ache. Yussa is soft and pliant against him, clearly aroused also, and Caleb can't see why he shouldn't find some relief this way.
He is gentle as he shifts them both, though he doesn't pay much mind to whether he wakes Yussa or doesn't. But it isn't difficult to move him from his side onto his back, and even less to roll on top of him between his legs. Caleb tucks his face into the warm skin between his neck and shoulder. Heavy breathing becomes a soft, relieved grunt as he lines up his cock and pushes into his cunt without much thought, a possessiveness that barely considers--or cares--if Yussa is still asleep or not. There's no pause as he begins to fuck him, muffling soft, sleepy moans against his neck as he enjoys how it feels to stretch his tight walls with these first few thrusts.
Yussa is pliant beneath Caleb's touch, still wet as his hard cock slides between his thighs. A soft sigh escapes as the younger man rolls him onto his back, but there's no resistance and little reaction until Caleb pushes into him. Yussa takes a sharper breath and one leg moves, thigh pressing against Caleb's hip as the other man takes him. He can feel Caleb's body above his, the warmth of his breath against his neck, but most of all the perfect slide of his cock as it fills him with every thrust.
Still feeling heavy and barely awake, Yussa pushes his fingers into Caleb's hair, cradling his head. It feels good and the archmage's breathing changes as his arousal builds and responds to Caleb's. Soft lips part and Yussa gets flushed. His fingers twitch against the back of Caleb's head.
Yussa feels himself slip further towards consciousness, not awake but no longer asleep. Aware enough to know what is happening and to know that he wants it, even if higher thought is beyond him. There's a feverish flash of thought that this is what he is for, to sate and be sated by this man. Ridiculous in the grand scheme of his life, but there in their little bubble in this corner of the Feywild, with intense desire and indulgence filling the air around them, it's easy to think and believe.
When Yussa's fingers thread through his hair, Caleb realizes he's woken him after all and presses a series of warm kisses along the side of his throat. He says nothing, provides no explanation, but it seems Yussa needs none. He can hear the way his breathing changes, how his skin grows warmer, how his body responds to his in every way. They fit together so perfectly. Their pleasure echoes and compliments one another, and it sings in the air between them. Even barely conscious, Yussa wants him, welcomes him.
Earlier, he'd staked a claim. Now he is reinforcing it. He doesn't think of anything beyond this, and he doesn't need to. Yussa is here to satisfy him, and he will do the same in return. Here, they belong to each other, and this is their sole purpose.
His thrusts become smoother as his lover's passage becomes slicker, and Caleb quietly moans his approval, intentionally angling up a little more to hit his sweet spot. He holds himself over Yussa with both forearms braced by his head, but pushes up and back so his mouth can wander further. His tongue circles a nipple before his lips close around it with gentle suction.
His moan echoes Caleb's as the angle shifts. His hand slides in Caleb's hair but he doesn't let go, not quite so weak. It feels like a dream, but far closer than the time Caleb had him while he was trancing. Yussa sighs and tips his head back as Caleb licks and sucks at nipple. His shoulders tighten, back arching toward the delicious feeling.
Yussa turns his head nosing against Caleb's temple. He smells good, faintly of sweat and sex and himself, vivid and sharp. His legs slide higher, knees pressed against Caleb's sides so that he can push deeper.
"Caleb--" he murmurs the young man's name, fingers curling tighter in his hair.
There is something especially raw and honest about this, the desire between them before full consciousness creeps back in, unhindered by anything more complicated. All that matters is what feels good, and both of them are shameless in seeking and granting it. Yussa arches toward his mouth and Caleb rewards him with a firmer, longer suck. He lifts his knees and Caleb moans as he sinks deeper, finally able to bottom out.
Hearing his name, quiet and wanting, makes him want to abandon everything for this man. Yussa is so beautiful like this, soft with sleep and completely open to him.
"That's it," he sighs, letting his lips follow the soft curve of his breast. "You are so good at giving me what I need, liebling, you don't even have to try. Just let me have you."
Yussa murmurs something in soft elvish, then slides his other hand between their bodies to stroke lazily over his clit. The angle of every thrust sends delicious little sparks through him, and languid and lazy as he feels, Yussa thinks he could be satisfied just being the vessel of Caleb's pleasure.
He whimpers softly as Caleb grinds against him and his thighs tense against his lover's sides as a little wave of tension rolls through him. Caleb's voice filters through the haze of sleep.
His eyes flutter open as Caleb kisses along his breast and Yussa's fingers stroke down the other man's neck with an encouraging caress.
He feels the tension winding through Yussa's body like it's his own. Caleb gets his balance on his knees to lift one of Yussa's higher, hooking an arm beneath it and grinding deep into his tightening cunt. He can't help watching where his cock sinks into him, with Yussa's fingers rubbing lazily over his clit just above.
When he glances up to find that Yussa's eyes have opened, and he presses an affectionate kiss to his chest between his breasts before moving to the other with his lover's silent encouragement. He kisses more gently than he had before, licking and sucking and drawing his stiff nipple between his lips, though still with the intent to leave marks.
His thrusts are becoming more urgent as Caleb uses his lover's yielding body for his own pleasure. With how aroused he'd been on waking it doesn't surprise him that he's ready to spill so fast, or that he'll likely come before Yussa does.
Yussa doesn't seem to feel the same urgency to come, at least. Instead, he takes his pleasure in Caleb's, in the slick friction between them and the angle of every thrust. He murmurs soft praise and gentle encouragement as Caleb kisses and sucks at his breast.
"Let me feel you," he murmurs, voice still heavy with sleep. "Caleb--"
His voice catches, hiccups as Caleb's thrusts get more insistent.
"That's it."
It's such a lazy indulgence in the way that Caleb is rutting into him, both of them groggy from sleep.
It is lazy and indulgent, and maybe that is why it feels so good. Caleb fucks into Yussa without a thought beyond soothing the arousal that had woken him, desperate just to get off and feel some relief. And Yussa does nothing but encourage him, receive him, and every twitch and shudder of pleasure from the small, warm body beneath him only drives Caleb closer.
His lips release Yussa's breast as he folds over him to tuck his face against his elven lover's neck again, muffling his increasingly throaty moans. His beard prickles against soft skin, his lips leave desperate kisses when he isn't panting for breath. His body grows tense, his thrusts short and needy, until he falls still with his cock buried so deep into Yussa he's almost certain he can feel the place where his passage closes off. He comes with a groan, buried in Yussa's warmth and covering him with his own. Holding him close, he empties himself inside him with a wave of sleepy satisfaction.
Yussa's breathing quickens by virtue of Caleb's eager use and he moan escapes him as his lover pushes deep enough to leave him breathless. His hand spasms against the back of Caleb's head and the other flies up to grip his arm. He can feel the pulse of Caleb's release and he sighs as he sinks back down, panting quietly.
His arms feel heavy as he slides them around Caleb's neck, keeping him close as the other man leans over him, breath hot against his neck.
He strokes his fingers tiredly through Caleb's hair and down the back of his neck.
Aware of Yussa's tensing and relaxing beneath him as much as he is of his soothing touch through his hair and against his neck, Caleb pulls out nearly as soon as he is finished. He catches his breath as quickly as he can, letting Yussa's leg down and leveraging himself up just enough so that he can kiss him. He reaches between his legs at the same time and runs his fingers through the mix of their come, and the sound is absolutely filthy. Within moments he slips two fingers inside Yussa's slick, soft cunt and leaves his lips to trail kisses down his neck and newly-bruised chest, shifting back as he inches lower, nothing coy about his intent.
Yussa is divinely soft and warm under his tongue. Caleb moans as he licks from his entrance to his clit, still swollen with sustained arousal. Yussa tastes so good, good enough that Caleb can easily tolerate the taste of his own spend. He keeps working his two fingers inside him and licks slow, firm circles around his clit. His mouth is patient, consistent, and in no rush to get him there. Though he's starting to feel exhaustion creeping in again, he is determined to relieve his lover fully before collapsing, as he'd so generously done for him.
Yussa's mouth falls open as Caleb's fingers push into him. His cunt tightens briefly around them and he sighs as his lover kisses his way down his body. Caleb's goal is clear and he moans, louder, as the soft warmth of his tongue runs up his slit.
"Gentle," he whispers, though there is no need. Caleb is patient in his affection, not too rough or quick as he works Yussa through his arousal. He lays back, fingers loose in Caleb's hair and rubbing lazily against his scalp. It takes a bit of time - difficult for Yussa to comprehend how long - but Caleb's diligence earns him the familiar, trembling tension of an orgasm. Yussa whimpers, legs pressing against the younger man's sides as the pleasure of release courses through him.
He gives a light pull at Caleb's hair, wanting to at least feel his head against his stomach before either of them collapse into sleep again.
It is a quiet, intimate thing, the only sounds the muted, wet noises of Yussa's cunt, the shifting of the blanket beneath them, the soft scratch of blunt nails against Caleb's scalp, and Yussa's heavy breathing cut with occasional pleasured noises. It feels like a meditation in his drowsy, sated state, and Caleb is almost sad when Yussa's thighs tense against him and he feels him squeeze around his fingers and shudder through a well-earned, tired orgasm. Caleb hums appreciatively, withdrawing his fingers slowly and affectionately kissing his lover's trembling inner thighs.
Following the silent instruction in the tug of his hair, Caleb heaves his exhausted body up once more and rests his cheek on the slight soft swell of the other man's lower belly, gazing up at him with warm, drowsy blue eyes.
Yussa looks calm in a way Caleb can't help feeling proud of, glad to have given him that sense of quiet pleasure. They rest in sweet, sacred silence for a long few moments, intimately connected and coming down from a high that to Caleb feels shared, even if his orgasm had been some time ago now.
Yussa drifts as they rest, fingers stroking through Caleb's hair in lazy affection. He doesn't fall asleep, but it's possible he allows himself to trance while Caleb's head rests on his stomach. The warmth of the other man's body between his thighs is a comfort and Yussa is content.
Time passes and eventually Yussa shifts, rousing fully with a lazy stretch beneath the other man. His thigh slides over Caleb's side Yussa sighs a heavy breath. His thoughts coalesce slowly and he finally opens his eyes, looking around from where he is.
He remembers more clearly that he meant to find a way out of here before getting rather... distracted.
Caleb does fall asleep right where he is, nestled between Yussa's legs with his face nuzzled into his stomach, soothed by the fingers threading gently through his hair. He sleeps even better this time than he had before.
Hours have gone by again when he is woken by Yussa moving under him, an unhurried stretch that means Caleb has nothing to worry about. He smiles as he presses a still-sleepy kiss to Yussa's warm skin, refusing to open his eyes just yet. He's completely content, half dozing and comfortable and feeling no urgency to move off his lover just yet, let alone to go anywhere else.
His priorities are scrambled, his mind a little sluggish, and it is so difficult to come up with a reason for why he should want to leave. Here Yussa is his, and he doesn't particularly want to share him with the rest of the world.
Yussa runs his fingers through Caleb's hair, stroking absently as he looks around from where he is on his back. They'll have to move if they want to find the way back out. They know this is here now, they can always revisit. It's not necessarily difficult to get around once one understands the map and the architect's idiosyncrasies.
"Caleb," he murmurs, trying to coax his lover awake after feeling that lazy kiss. Caleb's eyes aren't open, but Yussa is fairly sure he's closer to awake than asleep. Perhaps that's a fine line, but this will be easier with another set of eyes and another mind to fit puzzle pieces together.
Oh, Yussa is touching his hair again. That feels good. He nuzzles against him a little more, can feel his beard prickling against the soft skin of the elf's stomach. The sound of his name sharpens his focus just enough to grunt a sleepy, "Mm?" in response.
He'll move if Yussa wants to get up, but reluctantly. He's mostly awake and he's rested, but if anything that only makes him feel more inclined to lounge while he can. That this too is likely the Feywild praying on and lowering his impulses doesn't occur to him quite so clearly.
"Lazy," he chides, sounding fond at least. Yussa nudges his leg against Caleb's side, then slowly tries to slide out from beneath the other man so that he might actually sit up. As much as he'd like to indulge in laying here for hours more, he does not actulally wish to stay trapped in a pocket of the Feywild that may not have another escape route.
Yussa pushes his disheveled hair back and, upon realizing its state, takes a few seconds to try to comb it with his fingers, untangling as best he can. He remembers where they are, more or less, in relation to where they came in, but it's Caleb's keen memory he needs for that.
Being admonished only gets a smile from Caleb, but once Yussa begins to slide out from under him, he's forced to move. With a groan, he gets his hands against the blanket under them and pushes himself up and off his companion, sitting back on his heels.
He feels worn out and sore despite resting, and more than a little disheveled. He watches Yussa attempt to put his hair back into some order and dreads knowing what his own must look like. His gaze trails down, following Yussa's body until it lights on the bruising mottling his chest.
"Scheisse," he mutters, at least in a state today to feel some chagrin over how he'd acted. But given how he'd recalled Yussa enjoying it, perhaps that feeling is misplaced.
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Finding his slightly parted lips impossible to resist, he them first, soft and slow, licking into his mouth regardless of whether or not Yussa is able to actively return it. From there he trails kisses along the elven wizard's warm skin down his neck and over his collarbone, which he grazes his teeth over and sucks on ever so gently.
"I adore you," he murmurs, any hesitation removed by the strange energy of this place. "It is no wonder I want you constantly when you make me feel like this."
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He doesn't resist the kiss Caleb gives him, but he does tilt his head toward it, welcoming the sweep of his lover's tongue. Yussa rests his head again, eyes drifting shut as Caleb continues down his neck and over his collar, where works on leaving a faint mark. Yussa summons the strength to stroke his fingers into Caleb's hair, his hand resting there heavily.
The confession earns a tired smile and the elf tips his head down to kiss Caleb's hair.
"You are dear to me," he says quietly, voice soft and wrecked. It isn't something he would be compelled to confess so soon, but he suspects that, too, is the Feywild's influence. Well, it's been said now. He won't deny it.
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His own confession couldn't have come as much of a surprise. He's been calling Yussa by specific Zemnian terms of endearment in bed (and occasionally out of bed) for nearly as long as they have been involved, and he knows he hasn't been subtle about his affection or his admiration. But to have the sentiment returned in Yussa's way makes him giddy, heart leaping in his chest. He kisses his neck again, then his cheek, right at the corner of his mouth.
"I am happy to hear it." He sounds happy, warm and fond and even a little eager, despite how tired he is. He'd known Yussa was fond of him. There is no way he would actually desire his presence, let alone want to share all of the intimacies they have--both sexual and otherwise--if he wasn't. But being dear to him is more than that. It feels like more, at least.
After all of that, it is also reassuring. Sex here, particularly that last time, has been incredible, but intense. It seemed clear that Yussa was enjoying it immensely, but Caleb has always liked to talk afterward, even if it is only a few words of confirmation.
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His fingers brush lightly over Caleb's chest.
"Do you need to rest?" he asks after a moment. If Caleb is feeling hale enough, perhaps he can keep watch while Yussa takes a bit of time to recover. Once he's done that, he can make a more concerted effort to find a way back out of this little pocket of the Feywild.
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"I do," he admits reluctantly. Whatever effect is responsible for his enhanced virility has left him utterly exhausted now that it seems to have faded. "All of that wore me out quite a bit. But I can put up a dome so that we can rest without worrying about what might sneak up on us."
It's the least he can do, and it feels like it isn't enough. He is the reason they had to stop at all--because he was susceptible to the influence of something here. And though the immediate need for sex has faded, he still doesn't feel entirely like himself.
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Yussa stays awake long enough to be sure that Caleb has no trouble casting.
Once the dome is up, however, the archmage allows himself to drift off, giving in to the exhaustion pulling at him - also seemingly more potent here in the Feywild, or perhaps just a testament to how thoroughly Caleb Widogast can wear him out.
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Exhaustion only seems to have crept up more heavily as the minutes passed, and with Yussa against him, warm and familiar, it takes barely any time at all for him to fall asleep.
When he is woken several hours later, it is still as dark as it was before but for the golden lights in the branches above them, and nothing in their vicinity seems to have changed. Caleb blinks once, blearily, then closes his eyes again, determined to go back to sleep. But what's woken him isn't external--it's his own body. Still barely awake, Caleb registers the insistent ache of arousal. He's hard again, likely has been for some time. His erection is trapped between his stomach and Yussa's, perhaps even encouraged by the occasional friction of skin in sleep.
Yussa hasn't stirred. He still doesn't when Caleb reaches between them and angles his cock between his thighs instead, grinding along his slit. He's no longer soaked as he was earlier, but far from dry. His folds are pleasantly slick, especially around his entrance, and flushed hot with arousal. He can feel how stiff his clit is, pressed against his cock. Caleb's hips roll slowly, mindlessly, barely considering what he does beyond the immediate need to relieve this ache. Yussa is soft and pliant against him, clearly aroused also, and Caleb can't see why he shouldn't find some relief this way.
He is gentle as he shifts them both, though he doesn't pay much mind to whether he wakes Yussa or doesn't. But it isn't difficult to move him from his side onto his back, and even less to roll on top of him between his legs. Caleb tucks his face into the warm skin between his neck and shoulder. Heavy breathing becomes a soft, relieved grunt as he lines up his cock and pushes into his cunt without much thought, a possessiveness that barely considers--or cares--if Yussa is still asleep or not. There's no pause as he begins to fuck him, muffling soft, sleepy moans against his neck as he enjoys how it feels to stretch his tight walls with these first few thrusts.
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Still feeling heavy and barely awake, Yussa pushes his fingers into Caleb's hair, cradling his head. It feels good and the archmage's breathing changes as his arousal builds and responds to Caleb's. Soft lips part and Yussa gets flushed. His fingers twitch against the back of Caleb's head.
Yussa feels himself slip further towards consciousness, not awake but no longer asleep. Aware enough to know what is happening and to know that he wants it, even if higher thought is beyond him. There's a feverish flash of thought that this is what he is for, to sate and be sated by this man. Ridiculous in the grand scheme of his life, but there in their little bubble in this corner of the Feywild, with intense desire and indulgence filling the air around them, it's easy to think and believe.
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Earlier, he'd staked a claim. Now he is reinforcing it. He doesn't think of anything beyond this, and he doesn't need to. Yussa is here to satisfy him, and he will do the same in return. Here, they belong to each other, and this is their sole purpose.
His thrusts become smoother as his lover's passage becomes slicker, and Caleb quietly moans his approval, intentionally angling up a little more to hit his sweet spot. He holds himself over Yussa with both forearms braced by his head, but pushes up and back so his mouth can wander further. His tongue circles a nipple before his lips close around it with gentle suction.
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Yussa turns his head nosing against Caleb's temple. He smells good, faintly of sweat and sex and himself, vivid and sharp. His legs slide higher, knees pressed against Caleb's sides so that he can push deeper.
"Caleb--" he murmurs the young man's name, fingers curling tighter in his hair.
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Hearing his name, quiet and wanting, makes him want to abandon everything for this man. Yussa is so beautiful like this, soft with sleep and completely open to him.
"That's it," he sighs, letting his lips follow the soft curve of his breast. "You are so good at giving me what I need, liebling, you don't even have to try. Just let me have you."
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He whimpers softly as Caleb grinds against him and his thighs tense against his lover's sides as a little wave of tension rolls through him. Caleb's voice filters through the haze of sleep.
His eyes flutter open as Caleb kisses along his breast and Yussa's fingers stroke down the other man's neck with an encouraging caress.
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When he glances up to find that Yussa's eyes have opened, and he presses an affectionate kiss to his chest between his breasts before moving to the other with his lover's silent encouragement. He kisses more gently than he had before, licking and sucking and drawing his stiff nipple between his lips, though still with the intent to leave marks.
His thrusts are becoming more urgent as Caleb uses his lover's yielding body for his own pleasure. With how aroused he'd been on waking it doesn't surprise him that he's ready to spill so fast, or that he'll likely come before Yussa does.
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"Let me feel you," he murmurs, voice still heavy with sleep. "Caleb--"
His voice catches, hiccups as Caleb's thrusts get more insistent.
"That's it."
It's such a lazy indulgence in the way that Caleb is rutting into him, both of them groggy from sleep.
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His lips release Yussa's breast as he folds over him to tuck his face against his elven lover's neck again, muffling his increasingly throaty moans. His beard prickles against soft skin, his lips leave desperate kisses when he isn't panting for breath. His body grows tense, his thrusts short and needy, until he falls still with his cock buried so deep into Yussa he's almost certain he can feel the place where his passage closes off. He comes with a groan, buried in Yussa's warmth and covering him with his own. Holding him close, he empties himself inside him with a wave of sleepy satisfaction.
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His arms feel heavy as he slides them around Caleb's neck, keeping him close as the other man leans over him, breath hot against his neck.
He strokes his fingers tiredly through Caleb's hair and down the back of his neck.
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Yussa is divinely soft and warm under his tongue. Caleb moans as he licks from his entrance to his clit, still swollen with sustained arousal. Yussa tastes so good, good enough that Caleb can easily tolerate the taste of his own spend. He keeps working his two fingers inside him and licks slow, firm circles around his clit. His mouth is patient, consistent, and in no rush to get him there. Though he's starting to feel exhaustion creeping in again, he is determined to relieve his lover fully before collapsing, as he'd so generously done for him.
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"Gentle," he whispers, though there is no need. Caleb is patient in his affection, not too rough or quick as he works Yussa through his arousal. He lays back, fingers loose in Caleb's hair and rubbing lazily against his scalp. It takes a bit of time - difficult for Yussa to comprehend how long - but Caleb's diligence earns him the familiar, trembling tension of an orgasm. Yussa whimpers, legs pressing against the younger man's sides as the pleasure of release courses through him.
He gives a light pull at Caleb's hair, wanting to at least feel his head against his stomach before either of them collapse into sleep again.
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Following the silent instruction in the tug of his hair, Caleb heaves his exhausted body up once more and rests his cheek on the slight soft swell of the other man's lower belly, gazing up at him with warm, drowsy blue eyes.
Yussa looks calm in a way Caleb can't help feeling proud of, glad to have given him that sense of quiet pleasure. They rest in sweet, sacred silence for a long few moments, intimately connected and coming down from a high that to Caleb feels shared, even if his orgasm had been some time ago now.
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Time passes and eventually Yussa shifts, rousing fully with a lazy stretch beneath the other man. His thigh slides over Caleb's side Yussa sighs a heavy breath. His thoughts coalesce slowly and he finally opens his eyes, looking around from where he is.
He remembers more clearly that he meant to find a way out of here before getting rather... distracted.
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Hours have gone by again when he is woken by Yussa moving under him, an unhurried stretch that means Caleb has nothing to worry about. He smiles as he presses a still-sleepy kiss to Yussa's warm skin, refusing to open his eyes just yet. He's completely content, half dozing and comfortable and feeling no urgency to move off his lover just yet, let alone to go anywhere else.
His priorities are scrambled, his mind a little sluggish, and it is so difficult to come up with a reason for why he should want to leave. Here Yussa is his, and he doesn't particularly want to share him with the rest of the world.
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"Caleb," he murmurs, trying to coax his lover awake after feeling that lazy kiss. Caleb's eyes aren't open, but Yussa is fairly sure he's closer to awake than asleep. Perhaps that's a fine line, but this will be easier with another set of eyes and another mind to fit puzzle pieces together.
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He'll move if Yussa wants to get up, but reluctantly. He's mostly awake and he's rested, but if anything that only makes him feel more inclined to lounge while he can. That this too is likely the Feywild praying on and lowering his impulses doesn't occur to him quite so clearly.
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Yussa pushes his disheveled hair back and, upon realizing its state, takes a few seconds to try to comb it with his fingers, untangling as best he can. He remembers where they are, more or less, in relation to where they came in, but it's Caleb's keen memory he needs for that.
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He feels worn out and sore despite resting, and more than a little disheveled. He watches Yussa attempt to put his hair back into some order and dreads knowing what his own must look like. His gaze trails down, following Yussa's body until it lights on the bruising mottling his chest.
"Scheisse," he mutters, at least in a state today to feel some chagrin over how he'd acted. But given how he'd recalled Yussa enjoying it, perhaps that feeling is misplaced.
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