Chapter Text
A crisp autumn wind carries the smells of wet leaves and roasted chestnuts when it plays in Caleb’s hair, making it escape the bun and tickle his neck. He is slowly walking home along the busy afternoon streets of Rexxentrum, enjoying the atmosphere of buskers, shoppers and commerce. His students are struggling with their midterms, and he has spent the day overseeing the softly rustling exam hall at the Soltryce Academy, silently reading and incredibly bored.
On an impulse he steers his way by the message board in the little market square in The Tangles. A group of young adventurers are gathered around it, dressed in armor of various qualities and in the middle of discussing a poster about a slime creature in a well. Caleb looks above their heads at the different posters and notes for help wanted.
Strong Individuals for unloading a delivery of marble. Nope.
Someone to exterminate rats in a basement? Nah.
Mean and sturdy looking individuals to stand guard at a pub that has had problems with fighting. Ehh.
Big Monster Bird killing shepherds and farmers. Hmm?
Caleb considers the flier describing how a large stag-horned bird is pestering a village in the Zemni Fields. The farmers are not trained to fight monsters like that, and the Crownsguard is not particularly brave, in his opinion. The harvest season means long days out in the open without protection for the common folk, folk that have the same heritage as him.
High level mages gather up magic in their bodies like sponges soaks up water, and he can feel it surge through his veins, pent-up energy that can be used for good. He looks up at the thick clouds that conceals the sky, hiding the sun and covering the land in a soft gray light. Excellent. Time to help The Empire.
He Sends on his way home. “Do you need some fresh air, Schatz? We have a monster bird to kill.”
~
Essek is frowning. When he catches himself doing it he immediately stops – almost hearing the reminder to relax his features in his mother’s gentle voice – but soon the scowl comes back. The book he is reading is awfully pompous and boring, despite being written by an ancient Aeorian wizard. Or perhaps because. It discusses the everyday use of dunamancy-like magic for ordinary folk in the Aeorian society, something that should be more interesting than it is. The author tends to go on long tangents about unrelated subjects every other paragraph, but he must read it all closely because suddenly something extraordinary comes up.
He is situated in a comfortable armchair by the desk in the small, but well-sorted library in his and Caleb’s demiplane, that they were able to construct about a year ago. It took a short and extremely dangerous trip through the Heirloom Sphere to retrieve some books from the Prison of Soot, and then months of hyperfocus and shared frustration.
He remembers the time with joy; how they forgot to eat and rest and that one time he surrendered to exhaustion and fell asleep against Caleb’s warm shoulder. He had woken up in the man’s embrace on the couch, feeling soft breaths against his forehead, and suddenly realized what that sweet cramp in his heart was.
Just a few days later they had their breakthrough, the numbers connected, the master word made sense and the door took form, whispy and black. They had watched each other silently for seconds that stretched like honey before both of them moved. There on the floor they fell together in desperate and fumbling kisses, not even inspecting the demiplane first.
After that they merged in a way. Whole conversations can now be held with just glances, and Essek dares voice his feelings without fear of reprimands or backlashes. It is still new and tender to have someone listen as intently to what he feels as to what he thinks.
They made this place their home without really discussing it beforehand. Essek has nowhere else to be, and sure, Caleb owns a small house full of books with a nice enough kitchen and bedroom, but he spends the majority of his time here with Essek. Here they have their beautiful bedroom, their laboratory and the real library with ancient books from Aeor and the Heirloom Sphere.
They also have one small office each where they can keep their own order. Essek’s is somewhat messy; it’s full of instruments, notes and vials of odd experiments – while Caleb’s is extremely well organized. Every box and jar of components is marked and the rolls of parchment fill the shelves in perfect rows. Essek had no business being as surprised as he was at the order; he had seen how methodically the otherwise often disheveled man took stock of his components during their first outings.
The library is where they spend most of their time though. Here they have a cozy area with plush armchairs and couches for reading and conversations. With all this knowledge in reach, and add to that Caleb’s sharp mind to discuss ideas with, and it is more than what he could ever have wished for.
Caleb has on top of this also awoken something dormant in Essek. He would never have guessed that he would walk around and feel desire for someone in this way. His body warms when he thinks of the last time Caleb wrestled him down into the soft couch.
Essek writes some notes with a small smile and hot ears for a while before moving his focus back to the book again.
~
Caleb does not knock; he just bursts in like the force of nature he is, a wide and excited smile on his face. He is dressed in his new battle gear – as he calls it – and the oiled, brown leather hugs his legs, the elven chain glints under his new coat. The coat is not a fancy thing precisely, but with a practical amount of pockets and long tails for ease of motion. Zemnian quality, well made, with leather straps that make it snug around his waist and show off his frame. The book holster still does things to Essek.
The brown leather gloves leave the fingertips bare and his chestnut colored hair is pulled back in a messy bun, the waves too thick to tame fully. He clomps up towards Essek with confidence, assuming that he is welcome. Of course he is.
Essek puts down the quill and turns slightly in his chair with an inquisitive eyebrow raised, determined not to look too smitten when being disturbed so abruptly. Caleb’s thumb lands between his eyebrows. “The old wizards causing you trouble, Spatz?”
Essek breathes in the smell of leather and fire and looks up at him while straightening out his scowl again. ”I'm busy,” he says with a clipped tone. He did get the man’s Sending, but is not convinced.
Caleb's fingers brush along his forehead to his temples where they put a gentle pressure, and Essek shuts his eyes. It feels good; he didn't notice how tense he was. ”Come with me. Get some fresh air. Take a break.”
Essek slowly blinks up at him, then he presses his face towards Caleb’s abdomen and lets the man cradle his temples. ”You think going after a murderous monster bird is taking a break?” He hears and feels Caleb's chuckle against his face.
”For us it will be. Have you used any magic today?”
Essek pulls away and leans back in the chair before answering. He sees Caleb's gaze boldly travel down to where his lavender shirt gapes open a bit at the throat before it flicks up to his face again. He gives an innocent smile when he sees that Essek noticed his gawking, and Essek spreads his legs and adjusts in the seat a little bit to flirt back. “Not much,” he answers while enjoying Caleb’s faint blush, “but I doubt my memorized spells today are optimal. I planned on research so I prepared accordingly. What of you, professor? Did you really bring destruction to school today?”
Caleb leans his hip against the desk and Essek has to quickly move an ink bottle before it topples over. So he is in that mood, the little rascal? “My repertoire is big enough to handle both,” Caleb fires back while adjusting his gloves with a confident curl of his lips. The act is silly for how obvious it is, but it works on Essek.
Essek scoffs and ignores the warmth spreading through his body. True enough, he has some spells that he always prepares. Being on the run requires him to always make sure he can defend himself or get away in a pinch. But he keeps playing the game of an uninterested and annoyed scholar — because he kind of is. “Is that so?” he yawns and fiddles with his pen. He decides to switch subjects to see how Caleb will persuade him. “Are you a monk yet?”
Caleb has been training with Beauregard for a time now and she has helped his posture by strengthening core and shoulders. Essek often takes time to appreciate the interesting new lines of muscle along his spine, and the strong, toned runner's thighs – and his very cute backside.
He knows that he as an elf gets much for free with a symmetrical face and quick metabolism, even though none would rightly call him fit. He only makes sure to stay limber and trim his hair and nails. Okay, so maybe he also spends some time moisturizing and choosing jewelry and clothes and swiping a tiny bit of shimmer on his cheekbones when he wants to look good for Caleb, but besides that he doesn't do much.
Caleb barks out a laugh and shakes his head so that a few curls fall free from where they were resting behind his ear. He leans forward and puts both his broad hands on Essek’s shoulders and squeezes. It feels so good he has to suppress a moan.
“I should not have complained about my back in front of Beau, but I’m happy that I gave in when she offered me some proper training — my body remembers it. I was in very good shape in my youth.”
They don't linger on that implication, on who trained him and what for; the short glimpse of sadness in his blue eyes is enough. He is walking a long path to forgive himself and Essek’s heart swells with how far he has come.
Caleb’s hands keep stroking his tense shoulders and neck and Essek bends his head down to lean into the touch when the massage continues down his shoulder blades on the sides of his spine. “She becomes oddly professional with me though! She is not at all like when she mocked Fjord into doing it. I think she sees me more like a hopeless case she really wants to crack.”
Essek chuckles a bit and catches Caleb's bony wrists in his hands. “I might come with you,” he offers and looks up at his man again. Caleb is so close, he smells so good and his arm-hairs rasps so pleasantly under his fingertips. “But my mind is fully occupied with this text. I cannot decide if the author is smarter than me or if he is a fool. If you could give me just a few more hours with it.”
Caleb laughs and leans forward, still clutching at his sore shoulders, and lets his freckled face come level with Essek’s. His beard is the perfect length now; not too long but full and smooth and groomed and Essek wants to bite it.
“A few more hours will make no difference. Let me clear your head a bit instead? Hmm?” He whispers this in a gravelly tone that tickles Essek’s ears all the way into his brain. His godsdamn voice. It should not be able to affect him so, but the low tone and precise articulation and the meaning of the words makes blood pool in his groin. Essek feels his cheeks flush and Caleb's smile turns dangerous.
He shuts his mouth and gets up from the chair, embarrassed about his flush and already half hard cock, but Caleb stands in the way with a daring smile. Essek gently tries to push him backwards but the man doesn't budge. His chest feels broad and stable under Essek’s hands and he allows himself to touch it a bit more while trying to find a nipple to twist.
Caleb truly is in a mood today; just storming in with his adventurous spirit and long limbs and dirty shoes and expects Essek to drop what he is doing. That is exactly what will happen, they both know it, but Caleb is way too confident about it.
“I will let you clear my mind,” Essek says and pushes again. He did not find any nipple through the thick leather coat. Caleb yields only an inch and raises his chin to expose that smooth throat, that line of incredible soft, thin skin in between where his beard stops and his chest hair starts. Essek does not stare. He slides his hands from Caleb's chest up to his shoulders and is rewarded with an even wider smile; Caleb does not move backwards, but he gladly moves downwards.
He looks towards his notes when Caleb settles on his knees and starts stroking his thighs and ass with firm and confident hands. He has been occupied with the dense text for a few days, yet he has only discerned what could have been written in a three page article, and it annoys him greatly. Such a waste of time.
Caleb mouths at his dick through the fine fabric of his flowy pants and the jolt of pleasure pulls his attention back from the rest of the tomes they found in Aeor, those he hasn't read yet. He meets Caleb's gaze and the blue eyes glitters mischievously while he laps at the hardening length through the fabric.
He grabs Essek’s ass and pulls him closer while letting his mouth leave wet marks on the silk. Essek looks at his soft lips and pink tongue with a growing longing; he knows the texture of it well. He carefully strokes Caleb's hair and face with his hands while he wills his mind to stay in the present. The soft eyelashes flutter under his fingertips and the hairs in the brows are coarse and a bit mussed-up. He combs them with his nails before moving on to gently pinch the soft earlobes, cold from being outside. Caleb wears the small gold hoops that Essek gifted him a couple of months ago, just after he got his ears pierced.
Caleb breathes warm air through his pants and Essek sighs with a smile and worries his lip with his fangs. Caleb coos at it – always so enamored with his teeth – and carefully starts to pull his pants down. Essek takes the short moment of fumble to actually put away his quill and notes properly, assuring himself that he will get back to it later. He really hopes the other tomes are written by a different author.
Caleb suddenly sucks his cock into his mouth and the sensation snaps Essek back again. He takes in the sight of Caleb's pink tongue gliding under the dark plum head and distantly appreciates the matching colors. He realizes that he really needs to get into the moment, and takes a few steadying breaths while taming his brain.
He gently presses his hips forward to test if the open mouth is an invitation. The raspy texture of the tongue feels incredible and he drags himself against it back and forth a few times. Plenty of saliva is gathering at the back of Caleb’s tongue and he lifts his cock to look at the glistening strings. Caleb meets his eyes with a happy squint, then he closes his lips around the head and gives a hard suck that pulls an abrupt moan out of him.
Essek strokes his fingers over Caleb’s face again, transfixed by how soft the skin is just above the beard line on his cheeks. When Caleb bobs his head and swivels his tongue Essek touches his jaw muscles to feel them move and work. That makes the arousal build quickly, his breath picks up and he tentatively pushes his hips forward again.
Caleb hollows his cheeks and sucks with closed eyes and deep hums and the feeling of silky heat around his cock is everything. Essek’s whole body tingles when he stares at the lips wrapped around his length and the wet smears of saliva they leave. Caleb groans hungrily when a trickle of precome pulses out and Essek is lost in the feeling of slick inner cheek, the strong pressure of tongue, and then the tight intrusion into the throat.
He moans desperately and grabs ahold of Caleb’s thick, soft hair on each side of his head. Caleb’s hands lands on his hips and firmly starts to push and pull, clearly communicating what he wants, and Essek doesn't have to be told twice. His hold on Caleb’s hair tightens and he starts thrusting, short and careful, and Caleb makes a sobbing wet sound and surges forward to meet his movements. His throat is relaxed and Essek slips into it like it’s nothing and he barely holds on to sanity and release. He just wants this a little bit longer. Just a little bit.
He pushes Caleb’s head down and tilts it back so he can fuck deeper into his throat and the feeling of it expanding around his head is narrowing his world. Caleb takes hot gasping breaths sometimes between the thrusts and the wet rasping sounds make his cock throb. How can this even be allowed? He feels so far from whom he once was expected to be; now when he stands here in a demiplane he has created with one of the smartest men he has ever met, and drives his cock down that man's throat.
Caleb is gorgeous; his cheeks are pink and his eyes wet and his hands are holding a hard grip of the back of Essek’s legs. Essek puts his hand under Caleb’s jaw, knowing it will be his end, and when he feels his length press down and expand the throat it only takes one more thrust before he comes. He makes a choked warning sound and Caleb holds firm, pulls him closer and deeper.
Essek feels the throb of his cock through the skin of Caleb’s throat, and realizes that just beside it is the heavy beat of Caleb’s puls. The two beats create a chaotic rhythm along with the third of his own heart, slamming against his ribs.
The orgasm is incredible; it hollows him out and makes his head buzz. As soon as he returns to himself again he carefully pulls out. Caleb gags a little bit, but smiles happily.
“You truly are a wonder,” Essek sighs. He feels completely wrung out, and indeed entirely distracted from whatever he was doing before. Caleb tries to respond but his voice is hoarse and ruined and he ends up coughing. It makes Essek feel a sting of remorse and he helps Caleb get to his feet. “How do you want me?” he whispers against his beard. “I’ll give you anything.”
Caleb wraps his hands around his waist and pulls him close so that Essek clearly feels the hard line in his pants press against his belly. Caleb shudders and pulls back a bit before he clears his throat again and rumbles: “I want you to… follow me on this little adventure.”
They both laugh, Essek a little bit perturbed and Caleb triumphant. When they go quiet again Essek feels a bit worried. “I can still relieve you, love. I will follow you anyway. You know that, I hope?”
Caleb grabs his upper arms in a soft grip. “Ja, I know but this was more fun.” His voice is delightfully raspy. “Also I think I should keep my edge…” He adjusts his pants with a grimace but looks determined.
“Are you sure?” Essek really doesn't want to cause him discomfort, especially not if they were to be fighting something. “It won’t start hurting?”
“Nein.” Caleb pets his upper arms, then drags his hands down to squeeze Essek’s fingers. “I’m fine, it was intense but pretty short. No offense.” He winks and Essek snorts and smiles way too wide. “My balls can wait. Also… I know how you become after a fight. I want to save it.”
Essek tilts his chin up and shows his fangs at the accusation, but he can’t hide the smile that breaks through anyway. “We shall see about that,” he says with a tone haughty enough for the Shadowhand, but Caleb just smacks his ass and goes to get some healing potions and components from their cabinet.
Essek cleans sweat and saliva from himself with a flick of his fingers, then he goes to change clothes. He picks a pair of high-waisted, dark gray linen pants with broad leather strips on the knees and buttons along the hips. He is fine with the shirt and pushes it down into the pants before buttoning them up. Over the shirt he pulls a sleek vest with a neat little pocket of holding that always contains enough gold and components to last for a bit, if need be. Lastly he puts on his warm wool coat in dark gray and cozy white fur lining. It is autumn and they are going to run around looking for some bird in the mountains, and he would rather not be cold.
When he sits down to lace his boots Caleb comes back with a large book. “So I have been thinking a bit,” he starts, turns the page and reads something, eyes skimming the page quickly. “Ja, I think I know what we are to hunt.”
Essek finishes one boot and looks up when Caleb turns the book around, showing a drawing of a monstrous creature with bird body and stag head. Essek wrinkles his nose and feels his ears pin back; it doesn’t look small, like he thought it would be when he agreed to hunt a bird.
“A Peryton? Are they dangerous?” he asks with an almost steady voice.
Caleb nods slowly. “They pose a large threat to the townsfolk and tradespeople in the small towns close to where they nest. Apparently they have killed a few farmers and shepherds. But to you and me… I doubt they will be dangerous.” He seems confident and Essek hopes he is right.
“I have a Teleport if we need to get out. Can you get us there?” he says while he fumbles with the intricate lacing on his other boot. He is getting a bit nervous.
Caleb notices and sits down in front of him to help him with the strings. “We will be fine, Schatzi,” he says calmly, his voice slowly going back to its normal smooth cadence. “I’ll get us there and we will look for it and see what we can find. If you at some point believe we are in over our heads you can grab me and take me back, I will come with.”
Caleb finishes the lacing with a mediocre bow and Essek smiles at its skewed loops. “Are you ready?” Essek nods and leans down to kiss him. Caleb kisses back and it’s a sweet little moment, but the embers of arousal in Caleb’s blood apparently flares up. He pulls back with a little moan and gets up to adjust his pants again.
Essek grabs his hands. “May I introduce you to my empire twin, Ilthar Adgolor? Monster enthusiast and Hero of the Zemni Fields?” He casts Disguise Self and becomes a wood elf with light brown skin, dark hair and green eyes. Caleb studies his features to take in the slight differences.
“Well hallo, Herr Adgolor," he says appreciatively, rolling the r’s. “It's a genuine pleasure and also a very good timing, since we are just about to go out and look for some monsters.”