He is not certain how long it has been, or when the two of them rolled off each other, one of their coats (Essek cannot even turn his head to see which) beneath them to keep their legs from the stone. It has been blissful, soft and sweet, tracing each others’ lips and humming as though they were incapable of any other sound. It feels fuzzy, soft and warm like a drug-induced haze…
A drug-induced haze.
And then it’s like Essek’s been thrown into freezing water and he’s suddenly sober, suddenly awake and horrified. The startling moment of coming back to reality and realizing what you’re doing, but instead of being naked in a cold river he’s sitting over the best friend he’s ever known, the man he loves, the only man who truly understands him, and Essek made him cry. Caleb said he loved Essek and in response Essek choked him on his fingers and, and stepped on — Dear Light and all the gods, he is more wretched than he ever thought...
He tries to back away from Caleb’s warm embrace only to find Caleb’s hands still clutching him, blue eyes staring directly into his own.
“You will not leave me,” Caleb rumbles like a mandate, his voice low and rough from the use of his throat. He pulls Essek back down to lie by him, wraps a hand around the back of Essek’s head like he did those months ago. But Essek is still cringing. He is so afraid to hurt him, terrified that he might destroy what they have the way he’s destroyed so much in this world…
“You are a fool, Essek Thelyss,” Caleb continues, his voice still ragged, his cheeks still flushed, but his eyes clear, reaching out to take Essek’s face in his hands. “An absolute fool if you think I am going to let you go now. In no small part because it is fucking freezing and you are very warm, so you are not allowed to move away from me for a5 least another few minutes.”
How is he so… how can he be so… the man is so insufferably adorable sometimes it baffles him.
“But Caleb,” Essek protests quietly. the things I was saying…” Essek feels tears on his own cheeks now.
“Did you mean it, liebling?”
“I… that I…” he stammers, near panic. Trust Caleb to shame him with a simple question. Did he mean what he said? Which part? The part where he called Caleb a slut? The part where he threatened to make Caleb ride his boot? When he forbid him from touching himself? Which parts had he said aloud? Which parts had he spoken in Common?
“You love me back.”
“Yes,” Essek replies, almost a whisper.
“You love me,” Caleb repeats, hands warm on Essek’s face and eyes shining above a wide smile.
“You know this already,” Essek responds, a bit of petulance sneaking into his voice.
“Then I will… I will fucking delight in everything we do together, knowing my feelings are not unrequited. Would you not feel the same?”
He can see that mad intensity in Caleb’s eyes, but it is not the same as it was after the release of that powdered compound. No, it is more as it was in their first dunamancy lesson, or when developing the Transmogrification spell, or when they found the Records room on their first time in Aeor. Determination. Certainty. Passion. It is almost frightening to be the target of that same passion, though he supposes he should not be surprised after all that preceded this moment. And yet Essek can’t bring himself to say anything. The words choke him before they can escape. Delight in Caleb? Always! Of course! How could he not? But that… that does not mean Caleb should…
“But you,” Essek begins, only to find a finger pressed to his lips, before he can protest further.
“And if I bid you to be my pet,” Caleb murmurs, his voice both tired and unreasonably attractive in its near-hoarseness. “Made all of those same pretty threats you were making so very eloquently a few minutes ago. Would you find yourself horrified? Would you run from me?”
Essek nearly laughs in disbelief at the thought that he could ever run from Caleb.
“I could do it, you know,” Caleb warns in a teasing tone, as if that was what Essek had scoffed at. “I could fucking wreck you, Essek. You think I haven’t dreamed about it? Gods, I have imagined you in every possible way and many which are impossible as well. I have imagined you calling me yours, slut or pet or lover or beloved or any other thing, and I have imagined saying them all to you as well. Du schöner gottverdammter Narr, you think I am ashamed to be these things for you, schatz?”
Caleb presses his forehead to Essek’s. Essek does not have it in him to fight this. He never wanted to.
“I want nothing more in this world, my love,” Caleb whispers, and kisses him between his brows.
Essek is transfixed by his words, by the images they conjure — and by his own memories of nights spent imagining impossible affairs with this man — but it is when Caleb calls him “my love” that he melts. That ice water he was drowning in becomes naught but a warm vapor, heated by Caleb’s perpetual fire.
…He can’t help but think that the man is turning him into a Godsdamned poet. It’s embarassing, really.
Essek smiles cries and kisses Caleb back. On his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids, his nose, that most blessed and holy place on his forehead between his eyebrows and lies down with this man he loves. Caleb is stubborn. Essek has never been able to change his mind on anything, not in the time they have known each other. Essek will simply have to do his best to be worthy of him, even if it is an impossible task. He relishes a challenge.
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timeasmymeasure
FILL: Verbose [Caleb/Essek] 11/12
Date: 2021-10-23 03:22 am (UTC)He is not certain how long it has been, or when the two of them rolled off each other, one of their coats (Essek cannot even turn his head to see which) beneath them to keep their legs from the stone. It has been blissful, soft and sweet, tracing each others’ lips and humming as though they were incapable of any other sound. It feels fuzzy, soft and warm like a drug-induced haze…
A drug-induced haze.
And then it’s like Essek’s been thrown into freezing water and he’s suddenly sober, suddenly awake and horrified. The startling moment of coming back to reality and realizing what you’re doing, but instead of being naked in a cold river he’s sitting over the best friend he’s ever known, the man he loves, the only man who truly understands him, and Essek made him cry. Caleb said he loved Essek and in response Essek choked him on his fingers and, and stepped on — Dear Light and all the gods, he is more wretched than he ever thought...
He tries to back away from Caleb’s warm embrace only to find Caleb’s hands still clutching him, blue eyes staring directly into his own.
“You will not leave me,” Caleb rumbles like a mandate, his voice low and rough from the use of his throat. He pulls Essek back down to lie by him, wraps a hand around the back of Essek’s head like he did those months ago. But Essek is still cringing. He is so afraid to hurt him, terrified that he might destroy what they have the way he’s destroyed so much in this world…
“You are a fool, Essek Thelyss,” Caleb continues, his voice still ragged, his cheeks still flushed, but his eyes clear, reaching out to take Essek’s face in his hands. “An absolute fool if you think I am going to let you go now. In no small part because it is fucking freezing and you are very warm, so you are not allowed to move away from me for a5 least another few minutes.”
How is he so… how can he be so… the man is so insufferably adorable sometimes it baffles him.
“But Caleb,” Essek protests quietly. the things I was saying…” Essek feels tears on his own cheeks now.
“Did you mean it, liebling?”
“I… that I…” he stammers, near panic. Trust Caleb to shame him with a simple question. Did he mean what he said? Which part? The part where he called Caleb a slut? The part where he threatened to make Caleb ride his boot? When he forbid him from touching himself? Which parts had he said aloud? Which parts had he spoken in Common?
“You love me back.”
“Yes,” Essek replies, almost a whisper.
“You love me,” Caleb repeats, hands warm on Essek’s face and eyes shining above a wide smile.
“You know this already,” Essek responds, a bit of petulance sneaking into his voice.
“Then I will… I will fucking delight in everything we do together, knowing my feelings are not unrequited. Would you not feel the same?”
He can see that mad intensity in Caleb’s eyes, but it is not the same as it was after the release of that powdered compound. No, it is more as it was in their first dunamancy lesson, or when developing the Transmogrification spell, or when they found the Records room on their first time in Aeor. Determination. Certainty. Passion. It is almost frightening to be the target of that same passion, though he supposes he should not be surprised after all that preceded this moment. And yet Essek can’t bring himself to say anything. The words choke him before they can escape. Delight in Caleb? Always! Of course! How could he not? But that… that does not mean Caleb should…
“But you,” Essek begins, only to find a finger pressed to his lips, before he can protest further.
“And if I bid you to be my pet,” Caleb murmurs, his voice both tired and unreasonably attractive in its near-hoarseness. “Made all of those same pretty threats you were making so very eloquently a few minutes ago. Would you find yourself horrified? Would you run from me?”
Essek nearly laughs in disbelief at the thought that he could ever run from Caleb.
“I could do it, you know,” Caleb warns in a teasing tone, as if that was what Essek had scoffed at. “I could fucking wreck you, Essek. You think I haven’t dreamed about it? Gods, I have imagined you in every possible way and many which are impossible as well. I have imagined you calling me yours, slut or pet or lover or beloved or any other thing, and I have imagined saying them all to you as well. Du schöner gottverdammter Narr, you think I am ashamed to be these things for you, schatz?”
Caleb presses his forehead to Essek’s. Essek does not have it in him to fight this. He never wanted to.
“I want nothing more in this world, my love,” Caleb whispers, and kisses him between his brows.
Essek is transfixed by his words, by the images they conjure — and by his own memories of nights spent imagining impossible affairs with this man — but it is when Caleb calls him “my love” that he melts. That ice water he was drowning in becomes naught but a warm vapor, heated by Caleb’s perpetual fire.
…He can’t help but think that the man is turning him into a Godsdamned poet. It’s embarassing, really.
Essek smiles cries and kisses Caleb back. On his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids, his nose, that most blessed and holy place on his forehead between his eyebrows and lies down with this man he loves. Caleb is stubborn. Essek has never been able to change his mind on anything, not in the time they have known each other. Essek will simply have to do his best to be worthy of him, even if it is an impossible task. He relishes a challenge.