They are on their knees, half undressed and panting for each other, and still Caleb manages to tease Essek with every blasted word. The hold this man has over him would be frightening if he did not love it so.
Though perhaps that makes it even more frightening.
“I never thought… Luxon’s light, Caleb, I pictured this so many times,” Essek murmurs, hands trailing from red hair now thoroughly disheveled, down to his shoulders, down to the trousers still sticky and cooling against Caleb’s cock. Nine hells, he did that. He did that to Caleb, made him come with only the pressure of his fucking boot pressing down against his cock, and sweet divine light the delicious power he felt in that moment! He reduced this brilliant Hero of the Dynasty — this paragon of intellect and redemption — to an incoherent mess, and right now he thinks it might be the greatest accomplishment of his lifetime.
“I hah-“ Caleb stammers as Essek’s hand presses down. The human has just orgasmed, he must be so sensitive, he is still trapped in two layers of linen and wool, but somehow the man’s cock is already twitching again as he grins, both wicked and desperate. “H-how did you picture it, Essek?”
“Cursed Gods, I imagined it in every way,” Essek nearly growls, wishing he could taste every breath, eat every word that leaves Caleb’s lips.
“Me leaning over to kiss you in your study in Rosohna, perhaps,” proffers Caleb, his smile somehow hanging by a thread between cocky and longing, his hand slipping under the linen to undo the ties of Essek’s langot, gods those hands…
“I wanted to pull you to me the first time I taught you dunamancy,” confesses Essek with a self-effacing laugh, as though still horrified at his lack of professionalism. The laugh quickly becomes a gasp as the cloth ties come undone and he feels the rough skin of Caleb’s hands right against his cock. No time wasted, he pushes down Caleb’s own trousers and small clothes as well, not heedless of but relishing in the sticky mess he’d already left behind.
Essek grasps the back of Caleb’s head and presses their foreheads together, his right hand palming Caleb’s cock. Caleb’s whimper sounds almost pained, but when Essek goes to pull back Caleb grabs his wrist and keeps it there, pushing his hips forward and rutting up into Essek’s hand.
“W-when you came for dinner and I saw you without your cloak for the first time, meine Gotter, wanted to drag you to my room and have you then.” The Zemnian grasps Essek’s cock roughly and the both of them moan. The drow’s mind is filled with images of their times together, innocent moments tinged with tension, now repainted with a brush of passionate ferocity and sex.
“Much as I wanted you that night while you were trying to talk me into the damned hot tub,” groans Essek. “You walked me home and I touched myself the moment the door was closed, imagining what might have happened had we been alone.”
“I imagined us against a wall in the Xhorhaus with your hand over my mouth so the others couldn’t hear,” gasps Caleb, pumping his fist around Essek, feeling wetness gathering at the head of his prick.
“In your magic tower,” grins Essek, “On the highest floor, among the stars and infinite versions of you, making you come, watching all of you come.”
“When you were leaving the Blooming Grove, and I wanted nothing more than for you to stay. I should have kissed you, I should have, but gottverdammt I was still so scared, Essek,” Caleb breathes like an apology.
“On the ship where you made me confess everything and I thought I’d lost you forever,” Essek murmurs back, tears slipping into his voice. “I wanted to imagine it had all been different but—“
“I did,” Caleb confesses. “I imagined being back at Soltryce Academy, meeting you years ago and taking you to my bed.”
His grin seems to erase the very notion of tears, and Essek lets out a watery laugh instead.
“Fuck, Caleb, I imagined finding you wherever in Asarius you got that ridiculous fucking harness I first saw you in, grabbing you by it and pulling you back onto my cock…”
“On the side of the road while we travel, against a tree or pressing me into the dirt on my knees,” the human groans and grins, and they both find that even the blessed pressure of hands creates too much distance. The wizards instead wrap their arms around each other, grinding, pulsing, cocks rubbing together and catching on the rough fabric of their shirts and it’s awkward and messy and Essek never ever wants to stop.
“In the halls of the Lucid Bastion, your cries echoing like blasphemy,” Essek growls like a challenge.
“In goddamn Cognouza,” amid his moans, Caleb shakes his head in elated disbelief at his own confession.
“In front of your smug fucking Scourger friends so they can see how good you are for me, my Caleb,” Essek growls, and Caleb practically convulses, his cock fully hard once again. “What is this, then? What is it that has you writhing so? Is it the idea of being watched by your old lovers in particular, or just anyone? Perhaps I’d have you in the Xhorhaus as you imagined but not cover your mouth at all. Bend you over the stair rail and fuck you for everyone to hear, yes? Or perhaps in the broad daylight of Zadash, ussta’chev, with all the Empire stopping to watch me fuck you…”
“Yes, Essek, please,” Caleb nearly sobs, his cock weeping against the skin of Essek’s hip and stomach.
“Or is it just being mine that makes you so hard?”
“Yes—”
“And you are mine. Say it,” he growls through gritted teeth.
“I’m yours, Essek,” he gasps and practically convulses in Essek’s grip.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
FILL: Verbose [Caleb/Essek] 6/?
Date: 2021-07-15 10:11 am (UTC)Though perhaps that makes it even more frightening.
“I never thought… Luxon’s light, Caleb, I pictured this so many times,” Essek murmurs, hands trailing from red hair now thoroughly disheveled, down to his shoulders, down to the trousers still sticky and cooling against Caleb’s cock. Nine hells, he did that. He did that to Caleb, made him come with only the pressure of his fucking boot pressing down against his cock, and sweet divine light the delicious power he felt in that moment! He reduced this brilliant Hero of the Dynasty — this paragon of intellect and redemption — to an incoherent mess, and right now he thinks it might be the greatest accomplishment of his lifetime.
“I hah-“ Caleb stammers as Essek’s hand presses down. The human has just orgasmed, he must be so sensitive, he is still trapped in two layers of linen and wool, but somehow the man’s cock is already twitching again as he grins, both wicked and desperate. “H-how did you picture it, Essek?”
“Cursed Gods, I imagined it in every way,” Essek nearly growls, wishing he could taste every breath, eat every word that leaves Caleb’s lips.
“Me leaning over to kiss you in your study in Rosohna, perhaps,” proffers Caleb, his smile somehow hanging by a thread between cocky and longing, his hand slipping under the linen to undo the ties of Essek’s langot, gods those hands…
“I wanted to pull you to me the first time I taught you dunamancy,” confesses Essek with a self-effacing laugh, as though still horrified at his lack of professionalism. The laugh quickly becomes a gasp as the cloth ties come undone and he feels the rough skin of Caleb’s hands right against his cock. No time wasted, he pushes down Caleb’s own trousers and small clothes as well, not heedless of but relishing in the sticky mess he’d already left behind.
Essek grasps the back of Caleb’s head and presses their foreheads together, his right hand palming Caleb’s cock. Caleb’s whimper sounds almost pained, but when Essek goes to pull back Caleb grabs his wrist and keeps it there, pushing his hips forward and rutting up into Essek’s hand.
“W-when you came for dinner and I saw you without your cloak for the first time, meine Gotter, wanted to drag you to my room and have you then.” The Zemnian grasps Essek’s cock roughly and the both of them moan. The drow’s mind is filled with images of their times together, innocent moments tinged with tension, now repainted with a brush of passionate ferocity and sex.
“Much as I wanted you that night while you were trying to talk me into the damned hot tub,” groans Essek. “You walked me home and I touched myself the moment the door was closed, imagining what might have happened had we been alone.”
“I imagined us against a wall in the Xhorhaus with your hand over my mouth so the others couldn’t hear,” gasps Caleb, pumping his fist around Essek, feeling wetness gathering at the head of his prick.
“In your magic tower,” grins Essek, “On the highest floor, among the stars and infinite versions of you, making you come, watching all of you come.”
“When you were leaving the Blooming Grove, and I wanted nothing more than for you to stay. I should have kissed you, I should have, but gottverdammt I was still so scared, Essek,” Caleb breathes like an apology.
“On the ship where you made me confess everything and I thought I’d lost you forever,” Essek murmurs back, tears slipping into his voice. “I wanted to imagine it had all been different but—“
“I did,” Caleb confesses. “I imagined being back at Soltryce Academy, meeting you years ago and taking you to my bed.”
His grin seems to erase the very notion of tears, and Essek lets out a watery laugh instead.
“Fuck, Caleb, I imagined finding you wherever in Asarius you got that ridiculous fucking harness I first saw you in, grabbing you by it and pulling you back onto my cock…”
“On the side of the road while we travel, against a tree or pressing me into the dirt on my knees,” the human groans and grins, and they both find that even the blessed pressure of hands creates too much distance. The wizards instead wrap their arms around each other, grinding, pulsing, cocks rubbing together and catching on the rough fabric of their shirts and it’s awkward and messy and Essek never ever wants to stop.
“In the halls of the Lucid Bastion, your cries echoing like blasphemy,” Essek growls like a challenge.
“In goddamn Cognouza,” amid his moans, Caleb shakes his head in elated disbelief at his own confession.
“In front of your smug fucking Scourger friends so they can see how good you are for me, my Caleb,” Essek growls, and Caleb practically convulses, his cock fully hard once again. “What is this, then? What is it that has you writhing so? Is it the idea of being watched by your old lovers in particular, or just anyone? Perhaps I’d have you in the Xhorhaus as you imagined but not cover your mouth at all. Bend you over the stair rail and fuck you for everyone to hear, yes? Or perhaps in the broad daylight of Zadash, ussta’chev, with all the Empire stopping to watch me fuck you…”
“Yes, Essek, please,” Caleb nearly sobs, his cock weeping against the skin of Essek’s hip and stomach.
“Or is it just being mine that makes you so hard?”
“Yes—”
“And you are mine. Say it,” he growls through gritted teeth.
“I’m yours, Essek,” he gasps and practically convulses in Essek’s grip.
“Again.”
“Yours.”