errenis | for blumenthal

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.

"Hm?" It takes Yussa a moment to realize where Caleb is looking, but he soon realizes and reaches to brush his fingers across the mouth-shaped bruises on his chest. A faint smirk appears and he lifts his gaze to meet Caleb's. "You'd have a headache if I had any objections."

Yussa can't recall now if he's ever encouraged Caleb to that end, but perhaps now that it's happened, he'll have to make his desire for it more apparent the next time the mood strikes.

He reaches for his clothes so that he can dress again, limbs still heavy and a bit stiff from falling asleep as they did.

Caleb noticeably relaxes. "I thought so," he says, relieved. Relieved also that he can appreciate his work without guilt, because there is no doubt that he does appreciate it. Thinking of Yussa undressing and seeing bruises he'd left over his breasts for days--weeks, even--before they fade is deeply appealing.

Presuming, of course, that he doesn't heal them somehow. But Caleb will retain his private fantasy, at least.

As Yussa begins to redress, Caleb begins to collect his own clothing, still feeling a bit like his head is stuffed with cotton.

"Is this something you have encountered here before? Whatever...happened with me yesterday?" he asks. Tired of his hair flopping into his face, he simply pulls it back without bothering to so much as attempt combing it neatly.

"Yes," he answers. "Also with someone who was not an elf, as it turns out."

Yussa gives a dry smile and slides his book harness back on. He has fond memories - and a few terrifying ones - of exploring the Feywild. He rolls his shoulders and looks at Caleb again.

"There are things here that play tricks on mind and body and some are more susceptible than others. You shook that off rather well, I think, all told." Perhaps it took several hours, but Caleb sees relatively clear-headed now. Enough that they might be able to find their way back out.

With someone who was not an elf. Those without fey ancestry are more susceptible, then. That makes sense. Yussa had implied that he'd fucked in worse places. Still, Caleb finds himself having to fight down a surge of jealousy (entirely irrational, he knows) over Yussa's past companion, whomever they might have been.

"I still feel a little out of it," he confesses. "The, ah, sex part has mostly faded I think," for now, anyway. "But there is something...missing. I do not remember how we got here, or our specific purpose, beyond exploration and research."

It's disconcerting not to remember, but oddly not as much as it probably should be. He hasn't shaken it off nearly as well as Yussa thinks he has.

"Mostly?" he echoes, still sounding warmly amused as Caleb reports his current state. "That doesn't sound strange - the Feywild has a way of confusing purpose."

Even as he says it, it still takes Yussa a moment to remember the precise answer to the unasked question.

"We are here by way of the Halls of Halas," he reminds, feeling confident in his answer once he's able to grasp it again. "We came through the gallery."

And now they need to find their way back out.

Caleb's shoulders lift in a helpless shrug, and he feels his face heating just enough to be noticeable. "It is difficult to say whether the Feywild's nature is making my usual attraction to you more apparent, or if there are lingering effects from what I experienced yesterday. Either way, it is much more manageable."

Either way, Yussa is still hot. That isn't going to magically stop being true. He should probably stop watching him dress and get dressed himself.

A light does turn on in the fog of his brain when Yussa tells him they're here via the Folding Halls. He still might not recall the journey exactly, but there is much more logic in the two of them exploring a chamber in the Happy Fun Ball than making an excursion to the true Feywild alone.

"Right," he murmurs, stepping into and pulling up his trousers as he thinks. "The Folding Halls makes sense. The gallery...that is fuzzy, but perhaps the memories will return now that I have a better grasp on our situation."

Yussa doesn't respond other than to give Caleb a lingering look, as if that assertion remains to be seen.

"I hope they do, as your memory and adept puzzle-solving will certainly be useful in getting us back." He isn't worried, per se. There has to be a relatively straightforward way out, even if it is difficult to find. Something that would make sense to Halas, something that would work each time. There has been consistency in design where that is concerned and Yussa is hoping that remains the case.

While Caleb finishes dressing, Yussa wanders to the edge of the stream so that he can splash water on his face and run damp fingers through his hair. He tries not to let his mind drift, knowing well that the Feywild will only encourage it to do so.

"I suggest we try to go back the way we came."

The only benefit here is they didn't actually make it very far before Caleb was overcome.

After he's dressed, Caleb makes at least an attempt at detangling his hair before giving up and using prestidigitation, which he really should have just done in the first place. Honestly, it must look better now than it has in days. Looking to Yussa as he pulls it back again, he nods.

"I should be able to accurately retrace our steps from yesterday, at least." So he collects the rest of his things, folding blankets and rolling up his bedroll and stuffing each back into his bag before they set off, following the stream back. At least they have that as a marker to show them where to go.

And Caleb feels...fine, really. Mostly. His memories even begin returning, and he's able to guide them away from the stream back to the clearing in which they'd originally arrived. If they can get out of here, he'll be better. He won't need to waylay this whole trip by being stupid and horny. Stupidly horny. Maybe he can stop feeling quite so personally victimized by the way Yussa's ass looks in this outfit.

But in the clearing, there is no portal to be found. Caleb's brow furrows. Has he misremembered? "This was the spot, wasn't it?" he asks.

Yussa frowns as he examines the clearing they first arrived in. He remembers what the gate looked like and he scans the area for... anything familiar. He crosses his arms and moves in a slow circle through the space. And then he drops his arms, hands slightly out to each side like he is feeling for something. He hesitates to cast Detect Magic given the nature of the Feywild, but it might be necessary if they want to have a place to even start.

He mutters a few soft curses in Elvish, and Halas's name features prominently. Yussa looks at Caleb, golden eyes sharp and annoyed, much as they'd been when he cast Dispel Magic on the gateway that eventually led them to the path across the Astral Sea. He really dislikes the architect's ridiculous way of hiding things.

"Is it worth casting Detect Magic?" he asks, inviting Caleb's experience.

Yussa is very attractive when he's annoyed. Those sharp golden eyes directed at him cut deep, and Caleb struggles for a moment with the question the other wizard asks him.

"Ah...probably? At least to eliminate the possibility that it has simply gone invisible. Detect Magic is a basic enough spell that the effect will hopefully not be too distorted."

He really needs to stop oogling Yussa and start trying to solve problems. Stay on task, Widogast. Casting the spell himself is the least he can do. Even distracted as he is, the verbal and somatic components are second-nature, and he feels the familiar almost sixth-sense awareness that means the spell has worked. But looking around is dizzying.

"Scheisse. I should have known that a lot of things here would register as magical," he says, closing his eyes for a moment to reorient himself. He's going to give himself a headache if he keeps the spell up for its full ten minute duration, he can already tell. But he forces himself to look again for any evidence of the door they'd arrived through. He paces around the clearing following a similar path to Yussa, becoming increasingly frustrated and confused when he finds nothing of the sort. "There aren't any arcane signatures that would be consistent with a portal, or a spell concealing one," he reports. "Either we have gotten turned around and wound up in an identical but different clearing, or the pathways in and out of this chamber must rotate."

Yussa watches Caleb, and he can imagine the impact that casting that particular spell is having on the human wizard.

"Arcane energy," he reminds the young man as he moves around the clearing. Yussa scowls when Caleb confirms that he can't see anything that would indicate the portal they arrived through. He rubs a hand over his cheek, then sighs.

"All right. This is not a full entry into the Feywild, that would be too unpredictable. It has boundaries, even if they are not immediately obvious."

That being said, he is not entirely sure how to proceed from here. He looks at nothing in particular as he talks through his thinking.

"There has to be an evident way, something that isn't impossible to find - the Feywild, even a pocket of it, is mercurial. Halas has to have created something that will not move or change in this place. Something he could return to to leave again."

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