Chapter Text
It was unusual for Caleb to allow himself this indulgence, but as his heart healed, his body was getting into the very annoying habit of reminding him of its existence. He’d spent well over a decade ignoring it, sometimes on purpose, and it wasn’t letting him anymore. You're thirty-three, and you have a pulse, and you're surrounded by a lot of very hot and powerful people all the time, he reasoned with himself, as his hand started to drift to the waistband of his pajama pants. It’s not untoward to find that…exciting.
Caleb sighed and tried to clear his head of the nagging guilt. He kept replaying a few choice moments, chasing the feelings over and over: the way his heart swelled when Jester smiled at him and said she could make his mother’s Apfelschnitten - that one hurt a little, so he didn’t linger there; the shiver that went down his spine when he watched as Essek, hearing the laboratory glass shatter, whipped around and scattered the shards away from the group; his cheeks burning when Essek glanced over at him as he stripped down to check for eyes, and how he could’ve sworn the elf blushed before averting his gaze... All these memories made the same feelings, the same physical sensations even, return to him, and Caleb kept going back for another hit, and another, intoxicated by the effect.
Eventually, as he traced his fingers lightly over his chest, he noticed that he was getting hard, all the tingles and skipped heartbeats pooling in the pit of his stomach. Well...you’re already halfway there... Caleb reached into his nightstand and retrieved a small bottle of oil he’d placed in there when he made the tower, but had only rarely used. He reasoned that if he was going to do that, at least it ought to be good, and maybe if it was good, it would do more to relieve the temptation. Whatever you have to tell yourself...
Caleb started running the tips of his fingers over his length, and began to recall other tangible memories: high on adrenaline, watching Jester hold her banishment in Vokodo’s lair, how fucking hot she was; his first one on one lesson with Essek, how he couldn’t focus, following the perfect lines of Essek’s lips as he talked and wondering what it would be like to kiss him; doing the same just a few days ago over breakfast, watching his mouth quirk up into a little smile at something Caleb said.
Essek was where his mind was going tonight. He was fully hard by now, and he slicked his palm with the oil before taking himself in hand. One particular memory, the feeling of Essek’s hand on the back of his head, pushing him towards the dunamancy gem, kept resurfacing and sending quivers of arousal shooting up his spine. He followed the sensation and again tried to clear his head, just letting his imagination take over.
Hands, Essek’s hands, cool and soft…one cups his cheek as the other holds the back of his head and warm lips press against his in a tentative kiss.
Because that’s how Essek would be, at first, Caleb figured, but not out of nervousness…he would want to be sure the advance was wanted, give Caleb an out, not come on too quick with too much right away. And then, when Caleb responded-
Kissing back, kissing back hard, melting into his mouth, his touch, and the kiss turns fierce, bruising, as he pushes Caleb back against the wall. Not harsh, not violent, just firm and insistent, a guiding touch with a strong will. Essek is, after all, a man used to getting what he wants.
Caleb’s lips part reflexively when he feels Essek’s tongue slide over them, and he remembers suddenly that he has hands, and that he could be touching Essek, and why isn’t he touching Essek? An involuntary shiver ripples down his spine when Essek’s tongue presses against the roof of his mouth, and the hand in his hair tightens in response to the tiny tremble, which makes Caleb moan.
The sound escaped his lips before he could bite it back, and for a second, he panicked, before remembering that this is his room, in his tower, and he’s perfectly alone here. Perfectly, unfortunately, frustratingly alone… Caleb continued his light, slow touching and gave himself permission to make a little noise, if he felt like it.
When Essek pulls away to catch his breath, it’s the most disappointed Caleb has been in a long time, until he catches a look at the man’s face. Essek looks exhilarated, and the violet flush on his beautiful cheekbones highlights a sprinkle of freckles that Caleb has never been close enough to notice.
“Oh. That’s cute,” Caleb whispers, before he can stop himself. Essek’s blush deepens and his smile widens. Caleb’s never seen him smile like that before. He wonders if anyone has ever told the young prodigy, Shadowhand of the Kryn Dynasty, that his freckles are cute.
“A little tongue-tied, Mister Widogast?” Essek teases, drawing his hands down to Caleb’s chest and pressing him ever so slightly back against the wall.
“Can you blame me?” Caleb murmurs. His own smile is so wide it almost hurts, and he cups Essek’s face in his hands and pulls him in for another kiss.
Touching Essek isn’t like anything he’s ever experienced. The dance of bodies he’s used to has a weight to it, a push and pull, but Essek doesn’t obey the laws of gravity. Drawing him forward is as easy as whispering his name against his mouth, and he presses Caleb back against the wall with the strength of a stone giant. And his hands are soft, so soft, and they’re sliding over Caleb’s chest, fingers splayed out and exploring, because that clever and curious mind doesn’t want to miss an inch.
Caleb’s breath grew more labored, as he found a rhythm that gave him what he needed but didn’t crest too quickly. He was surprised he was this worked up from just thinking about kissing Essek, but it had been a while since he let himself do this, and the attraction between them grew stronger by the day.
“Essek,” Caleb breathed softly, and moaned as he thumbed over the head of his cock, sending a bolt of pleasure shooting up through his stomach.
“We don’t have time,” Essek protests, somewhat unconvincingly. “The others are going to come back for us.” He whispers, but his voice fills the cramped closet they find themselves in, and Caleb wishes he were surprised that the idea of getting caught, making out in the closet like teenagers, excites him more.
“Then let’s not waste what time we have,” Caleb murmurs, and pulls Essek in for another bruising kiss. Essek groans and surges forward, shoving Caleb back against the wall harder as his lips feverishly hunt for Caleb’s pulse, hammering under the moon white skin of his throat.
“Mmmm…ussta elam’aph,” Essek hums against his neck, and Caleb knows those words, he’s read them, in that book he picked up to try to learn Undercommon for Essek- no, no, not for Essek, for his studies. Maybe a little for Essek… Hearing the sibilant, silky language drip from Essek’s lips like honey makes him whimper as the elf finds a spot to suck a bruise into, pulling Caleb’s arousal up from the pit of his stomach into his chest, and suddenly he remembers - my devoted. My devoted, Essek called him. Gods, he wants to be.
In the privacy of his room, Caleb let his small sounds out, whimpers and moans that bloomed softly around him. Muscle memory was taking over now, he was lost in his fantasy and not remotely focused on how to delay his inevitable climax.
Devoted…he can be devoted. He can show Essek how devoted he is. Essek doesn’t know what’s in his head, he doesn’t know how much his heart still hurts, seeing Jester take Fjord’s hand and lay her head on his shoulder at night. He doesn’t know what it’s like, at least Caleb doesn’t think, to love more than one person at once, but Caleb does, he’s never known how to love any other way, and he can show Essek that he is devoted, he isn’t too broken or too complicated to love him well and fuck, he wants to.
Tugging on Essek’s mantle, he switches them quickly, pressing Essek up against the wall of the closet. Caleb slides his hands under the folds of the cloak and holds Essek’s warm body beneath, slender and petite, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his labored breaths. Caleb keeps kissing him, and keeps feeling his way downward, over Essek’s flat stomach and to the buttons on his trousers. He can feel that Essek is hard, straining against the fastenings, but he pauses, pulling away to check Essek’s expression and receive permission. This is a lot, it’s a lot very fast, and he has no idea how experienced Essek is, if this would be going too far without at least a conversation. A first date would be even better. He’d love to take Essek on a date. He’d settle for a talk.
“We’re already in it if someone comes back, Widogast, so make it worth the risk,” Essek hisses, and Caleb grins as he gets down on his knees.
Gods, Caleb could picture it so well, shaky fingers unbuttoning Essek’s pants and how he wouldn’t even notice the hard, cold stone floor under his knees for the heat flowing through his veins.
Caleb wants to take his time, but he knows they don’t have it. This wasn’t how he imagined a first time with Essek might go; in his more romantic moments, Caleb pictured them shutting themselves away in Essek’s impressive tower, secluded in whispering silk sheets and luxuriating in time, so much time to explore and learn one another, each body a new mystery to be coaxed into revealing its secrets.
It feels more appropriate somehow that, like many things they both thought they would have a chance to do, the romantic lovemaking Caleb had envisioned was instead replaced by a messy blowjob, squished in a closet and constrained by the imminent threat of both death, and their friends bursting in on them (possibly a fate worse than death, depending on who got the first eyeful).
Caleb allows himself a brief moment of appreciation for the stunningly gorgeous man standing - not floating, he notices - in front of him. Essek’s cock is as perfect as the rest of him, and Caleb isn’t sure, but he imagines it might be on the larger side of average for an elf. For a human, Essek is a perfect mouthful, he discovers, enough to make his brain turn off and bask in the feeling of fullness, and small enough that he can take the whole thing without choking. I might like choking on it just a little, Caleb thinks, and blushes fiercely as he gets to it, sucking Essek down. He can’t help but smile at the choked groan that escapes Essek’s lips before he presses his hand to his mouth to quiet himself.
Caleb moaned as he felt himself getting close; he desperately wanted to feel his nose brush against the base of Essek’s cock, soft dusky purple skin, to inhale the scent of him - what would it be like? Caleb’s imagination supplied soft, powdery violets and smoky cedar, but he wanted to know for himself. He could taste the salt of Essek on his lips, and, too aroused to be embarrassed, he slid two fingers into his mouth and pressed down on his tongue, mimicking the weight he so wanted to feel.
“Please, Essek,” he whispered to himself, around the fingers in his mouth, and he knew he was almost there…
Essek’s fingers slide into Caleb’s hair and stroke his head, and Caleb looks up to meet his eyes - Essek is quiet, he wants to know he’s pleasing him, he wants to do a good job - and he’s almost struck motionless, staring up at the flushed, enthralled face of Essek Thelyss, watching him intently. His freckles really are so fucking cute. They’re like starlight sprinkled across Essek’s cheeks, and he wants to count each one, brush over them with his lips and the tips of his fingers… Essek is gazing at him like he’s something worth looking at, and that feels impossible and ridiculous to Caleb, with the view he has right now.
“You look so pretty like this,” Essek breathes. Caleb keeps eye contact cheekily as he takes Essek back into his mouth, pressing back just to the opening of his throat, and nuzzles his nose into the base.
“Oh, fuck,” Essek groans, his fingers tightening in Caleb’s hair as Caleb finds a rhythm that pleases him. “That’s it…ah…mmmm…do that with your tongue again-“
Caleb hums in self-satisfaction and does as Essek asks, winning him another delicate gasp. He feels so filthy like this, kneeling on this dirty floor, but he wants to show how devoted he can be…
“Oh, Caleb,” Essek sighs, and the sound of his name in Essek’s lust-drunk mouth makes Caleb whimper, he can feel the fingers in his hair, his cock aching with need, and then Essek’s hand pushes his head just a bit further and Caleb breathes in Essek’s herbal, natural scent, as his nose presses against Essek’s pelvis. He looks up and meets Essek’s desperate gaze, pleading for what he’s too shy to ask for, and Essek groans, pushes his cock deeper and Caleb can feel his spend hitting the back of his throat-
Caleb finished with a loud sob, muffled by the fingers in his mouth, and his release spurted over his stomach, warm and thick. When he came down from the rush, he reflected, hazy, about how long it had been since he let himself let go like that… Not constantly trying to restrain himself… A shiver ran up his spine, pleasurable, goosebumps rising on his skin as an arcane miasma dissipated- wait. Caleb grabbed his blanket and covered himself, and looked around while he eliminated the mess with a quick cast of Prestidigitation. You’re being paranoid. The whole place is arcane, you’re just jumpy. The observation niggled in the back of his mind, a curiosity rather than an active concern, and Caleb drifted off to sleep.
Downstairs, Essek was wide awake.