Chapter Text
The peace talks went well. They were all alive, still, which was impressive in and of itself. A peace of some sort had been achieved--perhaps not the everlasting sort of peace they’d hoped for, as both the Bright Queen and King Dwendal seemed eager to find some reason to start the conflict again--but for right now the war was over, and peace had been achieved.
It is good to see Essek again. The ocean breeze suites him, even if the sunshine does not. Caleb is grown enough to admit that Essek is attractive, and if he stares at him a little longer than necessary as the peace talks drag on, admiring the way the breeze gently moves his hair--well, no one else needs to know.
He’s grateful, of course, when Essek stops by and talks with the Mighty Nein, checking up on them and seeing what their plans are, now that the peace talks are finished.
It is a little surprising, though, that he asks to speak to Caleb alone, afterwards.
“Of course,” he tells him, ignoring the childish kissing noises Beau and Jester make behind him. “If you’d like to stay for a while on the Ball Eater?”
There’s a dark purple flush to Essek’s face that is most attractive, but he follows Caleb silently as they walk to the underbelly of the Mighty Nein’s ship, in hopes of finding a bit of privacy.
He sends Frumpkin out to guard the door, just in case.
“You must be wondering what I wanted to talk to you about,” Essek starts, his face still a slightly darker purple than normal. He didn’t make eye contact with Caleb, either, staring at his feet instead, his hands shuffling around one another in a circular motion.
He’s nervous , Caleb thinks suddenly. Nervous about what, he could hardly hazard a guess, but something is making Essek uneasy.
“The thought did cross my mind, yes.” He tries to joke, hoping to settle Essek’s nerves.
“It’s about the favor you owe me,” Essek starts, then stops, looking up at Caleb, and then back at the door. “Actually, never mind, this is a terrible idea. I’ll just leave. I apologize for wasting you--”
But Caleb’s curiosity is raised, now, and so he grabs at Essek’s arm, like he’s done in the past, and stops him from leaving. “It’s alright,” Caleb reassures him. “We’re friends, no? Friends can ask for favors from a friend. Especially you , Essek. You’ve done so much for us.”
Essek’s face went even more purple. “It’s nothing, I assure you.”
“It’s not nothing.” Caleb rushes to assure him. “We would not have been able to help Nott defeat the curse placed on her if you hadn’t helped me finish the spell.” He gives Essek’s arm a gentle squeeze before letting him go. “Please. If there is any way I can help you, just let me know.”
“Oh, you may regret that,” Essek winces, biting his bottom lip nervously. “But first: tell me, what do you know about the drow? Our society, biology, and the like?”
What an odd question. “I know enough, I think. Humanoid. Less than I’d like to know about your society, because I’m not allowed in the library.”
“Ah,” Essek rubs the back of his head with nervous energy. “Maybe I am being unclear. What do you know of elvish reproduction?”
“Uh, it’s the same as human reproduction? I thought?” Caleb guesses, and knows immediately that he was wrong. What is he on about?
His comment earns him a soft smile, though. “Elves live for anywhere between 700 to a thousand years. If we reproduced like humans, we’d overpopulate the planet in a single generation.”
He hadn’t considered that, and now felt silly for not having thought of it. “Oh. How do elves reproduce, then?”
“Once every few hundred years, an elf enters what we call a heat. It lasts for about a week, during which an elf has both an increased libido and an increased fertility rate. Any other time, we are generally infertile.” He pauses, takes a moment to readjust the sleeves of his shirt. “ Generally . Accidents do still happen, and children are conceived even when the parents aren’t in heat, but at a much lower rate than say, the average human or halfling.”
“Ah. And you are telling me this because…?”
“Because I’ve been medically delaying my heat for about twenty years now, and it’s becoming unavoidable.”
Ah. That explained the blushing, and the nervousness, although it did not explain Caleb’s involvement. “I understand,” he says. “Do you want us to try and find you potion ingredients for you and your partner, or--?”
“I don’t--” Essek stops looking at his feet, and starts looking at the ceiling instead. “I do not have a partner, Caleb, much to my family’s disappointment. I don’t--” he pauses, looking down softly. “Romance alludes me. I don’t understand it, and quite frankly, don’t think I’m capable of it. Romance, intimacy, it’s never been something I’ve needed, and so I’ve generally avoided it. Don’t get me wrong,” he shakes his head. “I’ve had sex, and I’ve had boyfriends in the past, but it was more for...for a physical release, not for anything beyond that.”
“And now you are about to go into heat, and you find you need a partner. I understand.”
“Actually...I’m rather hoping you will be my partner, Caleb.”
It feels as though the ship stops moving, like it comes to a screeching halt, and the floor underneath Caleb’s feet feel suddenly uneasy. “I’m sorry?”
If Essek- could blush any more, it would be a miracle. “This was a terrible idea. I’m so sorry for wasting your time. Forget I said anything--”
He starts to move towards the exit of the room again, but Caleb is faster, and manages to grab him before he goes too far. Essek stops as soon as he’s touched, and Caleb is suddenly, painfully aware of just how close he and Essek are every time they talk. Half a step forward, and their noses would brush against one another. “Why me?” He asks, breathless, because it is the first thought that pops into his mind.
“A lot of reasons,” Essek says, sounding the most like himself since he entered the room, mentally going through a list. “I feel comfortable around you, for one, which isn’t true for a lot of people. I trust you, which is more than I can say for any stranger I might find to take your place. I know you aren’t going to use our-- liaison as a way to blackmail me. And I--” There were the nerves again, hesitation in his thoughts and his words. “I told you before, that romance eluded me? The same is true for--for sex, in some ways. There are not a lot of people that I find attractive. I can only think of perhaps a handful of people, throughout my entire life, that I’ve felt any desire to--to be close to. Part of why I delayed my heat for as long as I have is because I have so many better things to do with my time than to have sex with someone for a whole week, when I could be doing research. But I,” he looks into Caleb’s eyes now, silvered eyes meeting blue. “I am attracted to you, Caleb. And I cannot explain it, or rationalize my way through it any more than I could explain why the sky is blue.”
Caleb steps back, sitting on a crate in the underbelly of the Ball Eater. It’s a lot of information to take in at once, and he feels overwhelmed. At least sitting down, the gentle waves of the ship feel a bit more solid. “I’m--I’m honored, Essek, and flattered.”
Essek closes his eyes. “But you don’t feel the same. I understand.”
“No, no, quite--quite the opposite , in fact,” Caleb feels his face flush with his own confession. “You--you are quite handsome, I just--” he lowers his head with embarrassment. “Forgive me. I’ve never been propositioned like this before.”
“I have,” Essek chimes in, a little smugly. “All the time. Mostly from women who are hoping I’ll father some sort of prodigy child. It gets old , I promise.”
The levity is a welcomed distraction. Caleb smiles at him, and Essek smiles back. For a moment it feels like they are the only two people in the entire world. Essek floats back down to ground level and sits beside Caleb, on a different crate nearby. “I know it’s a lot. And I will not blame you or resent you if you say no. I don’t--I don’t want this to change things between us,” Essek leans over, and squeezes his hand. “I have very few friends. As much as I hate the thought of trying to find someone else to help me with my heat, I would rather do that than lose your friendship.”
Ah, but wasn’t being together going to fundamentally change them anyway? Was it even possible for them to have sex (for a week , Essek says) and keep their relationship the same?
Still, his words are reassuring.
“I--I have questions, I think.”
“Then ask them. I will tell you anything I can, if it will help.”
“You said,” Caleb pauses, choosing his words carefully in common, not wanting to be misunderstood. “You said this was for fertility. The end result of this...we won’t create a child , will we?”
One of Essek’s eyebrows rises higher than the other, his face pleasantly amused. “Not unless your anatomy is different from what I’ve been assuming, no, there won’t be a child created between us.” Rethinking what he’s said, Essek stops, thinking for a moment, flustered by his own (boldness? flippance?). “Although if your anatomy is different, that is fine, too. There are precautions I can take.”
Caleb shakes his head, amused. “Nein, you’ve assumed correctly, I just--you said this lasts a week?” Essek nods. “Would you--how do you last for a week ? How would I--”
“There are potions that would help, on your end,” Essek’s face is flushed purple again. “And I do not know from personal experience, only what I’ve researched, that everyone is a little different, but most heats last for five to seven days. Some as little as three, some a little longer than seven, but that’s the average.” Essek’s hands tremble slightly. “I--I hope for average, or less, but again, I don’t have any comparisons.”
“And it’s, what, just sex for a week straight?”
“There are ebbs and flows,” Essek shakes his head. “It’s not as though we’d spend the entire time in bed together. Nobody would be able to stand that, I don’t think. But I would need you to stay with me,” Essek explains, quite seriously. “In my home, at least, because I wouldn’t know when the heat would strike. It’s not as though it’s a predictable thing, you know, every four hours, -stop and have sex , but it’s,” he bites his lip. “I would need you.”
They are quiet for a moment as Caleb tries to process. It sounds insane. Surely this is a fever dream, and in a few moments he will wake up, Frumpkin asleep on his face.
But no. Essek’s body is warm besides his, and when he pinches his own hand the pain is sharp and real.
He still can hardly believe it; a sense of unworthiness tugs at his throat as he speaks. “And you would choose me to go through this with you? Of all the people in Rosohna? Or, well, even of the Mighty Nein? Fjord is quite handsome, and Caduceus--”
“Neither of them are you,” Essek says, soft but determined. He doesn’t elaborate the way Caleb expects him to, but maybe he doesn’t need to.
Essek is attracted to him. The thought alone is powerful.
“I--may I have time? To think and consider it? I want,” he leans closer to Essek, so that his nose almost touches Essek’s. “I want to say yes, I do, but I do not want to rush into anything. I’ve not,” he shakes his head. “I’ve not been with many people before, either.”
He has been with one person, actually. Just Astrid, a long time ago.
Essek grabs his hand again and squeeze gently. “How long would you need?”
“How long before your heat triggers?”
Essek laughs at that. “Well, you really are not supposed to delay it for more than a decade, and I’ve been putting it off for two , so--”
“Essek.”
“I will be fine. There may be--side effects, but we can discuss that later, after you are sure. Would,” he bites his lower lip again. “Would a week suffice? Would that give you enough time to figure out what your answer would be?”
“Yes. We are heading to Traveler-Con after this, but we shouldn’t be gone longer than a week. I think I could convince them to take a week off in Rosohna once we finish.”
“Then I will eagerly await your answer, Caleb Widogast,” Essek stands, and goes to leave.
It doesn’t feel right, letting him go like this, and so with a born impulsivity, Caleb stands and kisses him. He means for it to be a soft kiss, a kind goodbye, but Essek’s mouth is warm and his tongue chases the heat of it, pleasure cascading down his spine. It’s like a lightning bolt, the surge of warmth that shocks him to his core, warms his skin and sends sparks down to his toes. In this moment, Essek’s hands wrapped around the back of his neck, his tongue tasting Essek’s own. He cannot imagine ever letting go, his hands crawling on their own accord down Essek’s back, eager for touch.
He is like a man who did not know he was dying of thirst until he made his way out of the desert, finding water again.
Which is why it is Essek who pulls away, instead. The smile on his face is breathtaking. “A week, then,” Essek says smugly, letting go. The world seems colder with his touch. “Good luck, Caleb, and safe travels.”
It is--it is a long week.
He loves the Mighty Nein, and he loves traveling with them, but since Essek proposed that they--that they spend the week together, it has been all Caleb can think about. And there is no privacy with the Nein--they cuddle together in his dome squashed like abandoned kittens in a box surrounding each other for warmth.
It’s not bothered him before.
It bothers him now, when every time he closes his eyes, all he thinks about is Essek; his hands, his mouth, his touch, what it will feel like, soon, when he will finally be able to see him again. If that is, indeed, what Caleb wants.
(Oh, but he wants so much. He shouldn’t; any day now, Essek will message him, say he’s changed his mind and found someone else, someone better than Caleb in every imaginable way, but for now his imagination gets the better of him.)
He takes a lot of baths, excusing himself from the group more frequently, the only time he has that’s guaranteed privacy, and he doesn’t sleep much at Traveler-Con.
Four days in, someone brings up the idea of what happens next, forcing him to speak. “I’m needed in Rosohna,” he tells the party, vague and unsatisfying, but unable (and perhaps a little unwilling) to explain further. “When we are finished here, at least.”
It feels like they are all staring at him, but maybe he is just imagining it. “Why though, Caleb?”
“Yeah, I was thinking about checking in with Dairon in Zadash--why Rosohna?”
“Essek asked for a favor,” he tells them, not quite the truth but not quite a lie, either. “He asked me about it last week on the Ball Eater . I told him we had Traveler-con first, and then I would help.”
That gets their attention. Essek’s not-insurmountable debt owed. “Does he need all of us, Caleb?” Fjord asks, concern on his brow. He looks good, out here on the island. He is truly meant to be at sea; the bright skies and the sunlight make him glow. Once again, Caleb is struck by the sheer confusing fact that of all the beautiful men in the world, Essek desires him the most.
There is no accounting for taste, it seems.
“I don’t think so. It is a magical thing, research,” he lies, again, easily, as second nature to him as breathing. “I will be staying in his tower, to help him.”
It is quiet, again. “Away from us?” Jester asks, her voice soft and low, sad at the prospect of her friend leaving.
“For only a little bit,” he promises her. “A week, at most.”
They agree, then, to return to Rosohna once they finish. They start to get excited about it, even, a week of planned down time; Caduceus has plans to renovate the gardens, Jester is full of pranking ideas, and Fjord wants to know what a Xhorassian spa is like, in comparison to their time in the Empire.
They all ignore Caleb, for the most part. Except for Beau.
“What kind of magic shit is Essek up to?” She asks, bluntly as always, corning him away from the group. There’s suspicion in her eyes, and mistrust in her body language. “What does he want you to do?”
He wants to fuck me senseless , Caleb thinks but doesn’t say, the thought ringing silently in his mind. “He needs my help with something.”
“So you’ve said. What’s the something?”
She’s not going to let this go; she isn’t an expositor for nothing, he supposes. “It is a personal matter,” Caleb tells her truthfully. “Medical, in fact.”
“ Medical ,” she says, disbelieving, but she clearly knows he’s telling the truth, because she doesn’t push it much further. “And he needs your help with it? Why not a cleric?”
“If I told you any more, I would be betraying his trust.” And his own sense of decency, of course.
Beau rolls her eyes at him. “Fine, fine, keep your secrets, and his, I suppose,” she shoves off the wall, punching him lightly on the shoulder, but not hard enough to bruise. “You know, I think he likes you.”
You don’t say. “What makes you think that?”
“I dunno, man. He’s always looking at you, like, intensely, ” she shrugs, then turns around to head back towards their camp. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
It’s nice that she cares enough to notice. “I will be fine, Beauregard,” he assures her. After all, he has no intentions of letting his feelings get involved in this. “It will be a short week. You’ll see.”
He is at Essek’s home before too long.
Traveler-Con ended earlier than they thought, what with the cult interrupting everything and trying to sacrifice Fjord to a volcano, but they returned to Rosohna, and so, Caleb returns to Essek, to fulfill his part of their deal.
(The answer is yes. He’s thought it over, and honestly, he cannot imagine saying no at this point. He, selfishly, wants this too much to say no.)
It’s strange, being at Essek’s home again. The last time he was here, he was trapped in a whirlwind of magic and research, desperate to help Nott. He did not appreciate the aesthetics before, beyond the basics.
There are still holes in Essek’s backyard.
Perhaps, if this week goes well, he can try and fix them for him, given that he helped cause the mess.
Swallowing his nerves, he goes to knock on Essek’s front door, but before his hand reaches the door it swings open, and there is Essek, dressed in his mantle, his coiffed hair stylish and trimmed, a bottle of- -something --in his hands.
He stops himself from walking smack into Caleb. “Caleb,” he says, breathless, and a little surprised. “You are early.”
“Ja,” he says, wishing his hands would stop sweating so much, and so he adjusts the straps of his backpack instead. “We made good time getting back here.”
“I’m--glad,” Essek says, nervousness on his brow. “Um, would you like to come in? I was about to head out--”
“No, no, I don’t mean to intrude, I just wanted to--”
“You aren’t intruding, I can change my plans, I just--”
They are speaking over one another, and neither of them are listening. Instead, Caleb laughs nervously, and rubs the back of his head. “I apologize, Essek. I should have had Jester send a message like she offered.”
“It’s fine,” Essek smiles kindly. “Really, come in. I was just going to run an errand, but it can wait. Please, I insist,” he floats back from his door, opening it wide for Caleb to enter.
Here goes nothing. He steps forward into Essek’s foyer, speaking as he walks. “I wanted to tell you my answer. For--for the thing, we discussed.”
Essek closes the door behind him, snapping his fingers to light up his home. “I assumed as much. And?”
“My answer is yes.”
“You don’t have to apo-- oh ,” Essek’s mind catches up to him, realizing what it was Caleb actually said, and not what he expected. “ Oh . Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Caleb grins, enjoying seeing Essek caught off guard like this. “Why? Have you changed your mind? Found someone better?”
“Not at all. I’m just,” he looks down at the floor, playing with the sleeves of his mantle. “Pleasantly surprised, that is all.”
“Well, I am too,” Caleb smiles warmly, taking off his scarf. “So, I suppose now we need to--to talk.”
“Yes. Ah, if you’ll follow me, please?”
He leads Caleb to another tower--the third tower, the one Caleb hasn’t been in before. Immediately the atmosphere is different from the other two--one tower is meant to for guests, Caleb realizes with delay, and one is meant for work, but this one is Essek’s home , where he lives and spends most of his time. It is still cold, and it is still dark, but it is lived in . There’s a discarded sweater in one of the chairs, and half-drank cups of tea and empty wine glasses, stacks of books and loose papers with notes scrawled on them, but it feels more like a home.
It’s endearing, even if Essek is embarrassed, scrambling to prestidigitate his mess. “Apologies,” he says, opening a door and throwing the sweater into the room blindly. “I was not expecting company.”
“You’ve seen the Xhorhaus,” and it's a constant state of chaos, Caleb doesn’t say, “I do not judge you.”
“Very well. Have a seat. Um, would you like something to drink? I have wine, and uh, I still have some tea, I think, somewhere, and--”
“Wine is good,” Caleb offers, setting his bag down and sitting on a dark sofa. “Would you like me to light a fire?”
“Yes please,” Essek stands over to the side by some cabinets, going through his wine collection. “Do you have a preference of flavor? White or red? I have some older bottles--”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll drink whatever you wish to drink,” Caleb says softly. With a quick cantrip, the fireplace is lit, and immediately the room feels warmer and brighter than it was before.
Oh. It’s raining outside, he realizes suddenly, the sound of it hitting the windows alerting him more than anything.
Essek walks up behind him, carrying two glasses of something dark and red, and he hands one over to Caleb gently before sitting down next to him on the sofa. He’s removed his mantle, and Essek is--smaller, without it. His shoulders shrink in, as does the rest of his form, thin and lithe and soft. “I hope you like it,” he says softly, as Caleb takes a sip. It’s mild but smooth, a dinner wine meant to go with anything, as inoffensive as possible. “So. Uh. The favor--”
“Right. I suppose we need to decide on the when and where, no?”
“Here,” Essek answers seriously. “And--tomorrow, I suppose, if you haven’t changed your mind after seeing my living quarters.” He swirls the wine in his glass gently before taking a large sip. “In all seriousness, we need to, uh, discuss boundaries and expectations. From what I’ve read, this will make the process go smoother, and will avoid any, uh, hurt feelings or complications.”
“Of course. That--that makes sense.”
“Um,” he takes another large gulp of wine, staring not at Caleb but at the ceiling above. “I told you earlier, that because I’ve been delaying my heat, there might be complications? I will,” and his face is a bright reddish purple color, lovely in it’s own way. “I will likely be-- incredibly submissive towards you. Which is not normally my preference, but it’s my understanding on how the heat works. I will likely try to please you, however I can.” He takes another sip of his wine. “I am--I am trusting you, Caleb Widogast, that you will know my limits and you will not push them. I will be vulnerable, and I hate that, I hate it more than anything, and so I need you to know you won’t do--that you wouldn’t do anything I wouldn’t allow when I’m in my right state of mind.”
Caleb reaches out, and squeezes Essek’s hand softly. “Whatever you wish of me, I promise I will do my best to abide by.”
“I don’t, um, I don’t have many limits,” Essek’s thumbs circle the wine glass softly. “I do not wish to bleed. I don’t want to be peed on, no, uh, bodily fluids at all except for,” he looks up at the ceiling again, playing with his hair. “Cum, I guess.”
Caleb feels his own face flushing. “Right. I can, uh, do that, I suppose.”
“I do not wish to be seen in public while I am--in such a state, so privacy that we stay here--it’s extremely important to me. I have a reputation I wish to uphold,” he holds his wine glass so the wine swirls around the glass. “Do--do you have any, ah, limits, that I should know about?”
“Uh, same as you, I think,” Caleb blushes hard now. “I do not wish to bleed, or be cut in any way. Or,” he scratches at his scars, hidden beneath his coat, self-conscious of his arms. “I don’t relish pain. And I don’t wish for my appearance to be mocked. I know what I look like, I don’t--”
Essek’s hand is warm on his arms, and stops is scratching. “I think you are very beautiful. And I will not demean you by suggesting otherwise.”
You are a liar, Caleb thinks, but doesn’t say, the thought unkind. “Other than that, I suppose I’m open for, for most things that could happen in a bedroom, between two adults.”
“Hmm,” Essek agrees. “If you find that changes, or if I do something that makes you uncomfortable, you have my permission to stop me, magically, if I am--if I am in a state where I cannot be reasoned with,” Essek blinks slowly. “You know the hold person spell, right? I can teach you tonight if you do not.”
“I know that one, yes.”
“If I--if I try anything you decide you do not want, do not hesitate to cast it on me, okay? Even if I beg,” he downs the rest of his wine glass. “And I will likely beg, but please, know that your comfort is more important to me than whatever I may say in such a state.”
“That is good to know,” Caleb flushes, and takes a large sip of his wine, in hopes of hiding his face. “Is there--is there anything else I need to know?”
“I will get food for the week, and potions, for, ah, stamina. Lubricant. Is there--is there anything else you think we might need? Any,” Essek’s face is so bright and warm, now. “Toys, or images, or--?”
“No,” Caleb’s face is as red as his hair. “No, no, I think, ah, I think we are good there, ja?”
“Good to know,” Essek smiles brightly, his fangs delicately poking out of his smile. “Um, for a slightly less serious conversation, do you have any food preferences?”
“I will eat basically anything, so you do not have to worry about me, there.”
“For a week, though?” Essek scrunches his face, like he does not believe Caleb. “Would you--would you want to go with me, to get food and supplies? I was actually heading that way before you arrived, and this way you can help pick things out that you like, yes?”
The blush lifts, but only slight. “Ja, okay.”
Cayleb~. Are you on a date with Essek? You silly, telling us you were just “helping him with research” pfffft. You don’t have to lie--
He is certain there is more to the message, but he doesn’t hear it, limited as he was by the spell. Instead, he groans, setting his cup down. “Jester. Are you spying on me? I told you I’m busy helping Essek research; please let me be. I will call if I need to.”
Across the table from him, Essek watches with quiet amusement, taking a sip of his own drink. “ Research ?”
He blushes; it must be a slow day, because Jester messages him again almost immediately. I can’t scry on you because of your necklace. Yasha saw you guys while she was shopping. Have fun on your date~ Love you bye~!
“Good night , Jester,” he huffs, refusing to use the words to finish the spell, and instead intending on letting it fade naturally.
“Essek says good night too,” Essek winks at him across the table; Caleb scowls.
“Essek says good night too.” He repeats, then glares at his...partner, for lack of a better word. He waits until he feels the spell fizzle before speaking again. “Don’t encourage her.”
“I try not to, most days. Though I must admit, it’s much more entertaining when I’m not on the receiving end of such calls,” Essek grins. “Also: research?”
“Is that not what we were doing?” Caleb asks, a little coy. A few minutes ago, they had been arguing over which vegetable was superior when Essek suggested a drink to calm them both down. “I would say that argument is the first step towards good research, don’t you think?”
“And I would say you are still wrong, but cute when you try to word your way out of things,” Essek grins. “Did you need to stop at the Xhorhaus to get anything?”
“No, I brought everything I need,” Caleb shakes his head. “I was unsure if your-- you know --was an immediate thing or not. And at this point, I would like to avoid my friends, please.”
“Then let’s head home,” Essek smiles wide, his fangs prominent in his grin. “Less we start any more rumors, no?”
Their drinks finished, and their supplies purchased, Caleb sees no reason to argue. “Lead the way,” he says coyly, watching with amusement as Essek floats from the table, levitating so that he and Caleb are the same height.
“When will it start?” Caleb asks, after they’ve walked for a bit, ensuring a bit of privacy. “The--you know.”
“Tomorrow sometime,” Essek confesses, his voice low. “I’m not sure the exact time, but, tomorrow, certainly. It takes time for the, uh, preventative to stop taking effect.”
Caleb nods. “Of course.”
“And thank you, again,” Essek’s face flushes slightly during their walk. The rain is light but doesn’t seem to bother Essek much. “You do not have to do this. The fact that you are willing to--means a great deal to me.”
Perhaps he does not have to help Essek with this, but since he’s agreed, he’s found he’s very much looking forward to it. “I could not imagine, trying to find help with--with this,” Caleb confesses as they reach Essek’s front door. “Even if I did not owe you an insurmountable debt, I would still help because I could not imagine trying to find someone like you have to.” He watches as Essek magically unlocks the door, and floats their bags of groceries into his home tower. “You are my friend. I hope--I hope we remain friends, after this.”
“I think we will,” Essek says, setting the bags on his kitchen counter as he begins digging through them to put things away. “We’ve handled things, ah, fairly maturely so far, don’t you think?”
“Well, ja, but,” he scratches at his arms, memories of Astrid and Eodwulf resurfacing. “Sex changes things.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Essek confesses, levitating the noodle to the top shelf. “I’ve not had many sexual encounters, and those I have had have been with people with whom my relationship was the same both before and after. Usually we were using each other, so it worked out for both our benefits,” he smiles at Caleb before setting the teabags on the counter, emptying the last of their shopping. “I’ve not had sex with a friend, before. This should be...interesting.”
Yes, and that was part of Caleb’s fear. The last time Caleb had sex with a friend, he fell in love with her. Still, he didn’t want to talk about Astrid, not now, not with Essek.
“Where would you like me to sleep tonight?” Caleb asks with slight hesitation. He is certain Essek must have a guest room somewhere in his towers, but he isn’t sure where. He hopes it is not too terribly far--while the three towers are connected, he worries a little about feeling lonely in such an empty space.
He’s not slept alone for a while. Even in the Xhorhaus, on a separate floor from everyone else, he can hear the others nearby, every time Caduceus needs a cup of tea, or when Yasha has a nightmare, or when Jester needs to go to the bathroom, again . It used to keep him awake, how lightly he slept when the others were near. Now he finds it hard to sleep without them.
“I just assumed you’d sleep in my bed,” Essek says, his eyes slightly wide at the concept. “I mean, it’s not as though you aren’t going to end up there eventually. Unless you’d rather not? I can set up the guest room--”
“Nein, it’s fine,” Caleb says, a slight blush to his face. “That makes sense. Um, where is your bedroom, exactly? So that I can put my stuff away.”
Essek blinks at him. “Right. You need more sleep than me,” he says after a moment of thought. “And it is a little late. Follow me.”
He starts to glide up to the next room, but Caleb presses a firm hand on his shoulder, pressing him down to the ground level. Essek’s soft flush is adorable. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. You do not have to float around me, you know?”
“I just forget, sometimes. Do you ever get so used to something that you forget to stop it?”
Bandages on his arms, that he still wraps up some mornings before he remembers. “Ja,” Caleb says, following him into the sitting room from before, and then behind it, to a stairwell that spirals upward.
Essek’s upstairs room is massive, the size of the sitting room and the kitchenette down below. But it feels empty--there is a bed, a dresser, a mirror, a few windows, but they are small compared to the size of the room. “There’s the bathroom through there,” Essek points to one door across the way. “And the kitchen is downstairs. If you need the lab for anything, it’s through that door,” he gestures to the left. “And the guest tower is through the right.”
“I, ah,” Caleb rubs the back of his head. “I wasn’t planning on sleeping quite yet,” it was only eight o’clock, after all. “But uh, perhaps I could change? And we could stay up and, I don’t know, talk or read, perhaps?”
“Of course,” Essek nods subtly. “Let me consult my library--I may have some books that will interest you.”
He leaves to let Caleb change clothes, shutting the door behind him. Alone, Essek’s home is unnaturally quiet and still. He’s grateful for the gentle tip tip tap of the rain against the windows outside, so that there is some noise, at least, and he’s not completely alone with his thoughts.
Naked, he stares at himself in Essek’s large, imposing mirror. He is--not unattractive , he supposes. He’s skinny, but less thin than he used to be, and while he is not as muscular as Fjord or Beau there is a bit of muscle there, just a small amount, the kind of tightness gathered from walking and fighting the way he does with the Nein, though he imagines he’s probably the weakest of the Nein still. There is red hair across his chest and his stomach leading to his groin; freckles on his cheeks, neck, shoulders and chest. His knees are knobby, and his feet seem too big for his lanky form. Scars are ever present on his form: a starburst where he was impaled in the stomach, a sword cut along his shoulder, claw marks on his back, his arms and the arcane etched into his skin.
Of all the people in Rosohna, Essek wants him? Essek, who is undoubtedly beautiful beneath his mantle?
Do not look a gift horse in the mouth , Caleb tells himself, studying his body once more. It is not as though he has any other offers of a sexual nature, and especially not from somebody as attractive as Essek.
...Should he have shaved? Would Essek be disgusted with him once he saw him? Oh, but it was too late now, wasn’t it? Better get dressed again before--
The knock on the door came as soon as he happened to get his sleep pants on. “Are you decent?” Essek’s voice chimes through the door.
“Come in,” Caleb calls to him, turning towards his bag to look for a shirt. He did pack a sleep shirt, didn’t he?
Essek opens the door softly, and comes in without looking up from his stack of books. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like to read, so I got a few options,” he says, coming closer in the empty room. “I’ve got some historical fiction, some academic works on the nature of dunamis that I thought you might find interesting, a romance novel, a--” Essek stops once he sets the books down on the dresser, turning towards Caleb. “ Oh .”
“Sorry,” Caleb feels himself flush lightly. “I--I thought I packed a sleep shirt. I can’t find it.”
“You don’t need it,” Essek blurts out, and then flushes, stepping closer to Caleb. “I mean, you look fine. Better than fine. You are--very attractive. Sorry, that came out wrong. I mean, we--we are going to see each other naked eventually, right? I mean, that is the goal here, not that I am trying to objectify you. Although you are rather handsome, and I’m sorry, I’m rambling again, I just, um, I--”
Caleb kisses him.
It’s slow, at first, softer than the first time they kissed, a week ago on the Ball Eater ’s lower deck. Essek is hesitant at first, kissing him only on the surface, but then his mouth opens, and oh , he’s missed this, this sense of fire bubbling just under his skin. Essek’s mouth tastes like the drink they had an hour ago, and his hair is soft and curly in Caleb’s hands. Essek’s hands have found their way to Caleb’s chest, exploring his skin like something that he craves. His fingers brush against his nipples, and then trail lower, toying with the soft hair on his stomach.
When they pull away, Essek is blushing again, and Caleb has to force himself to let go of him, to detangle his hands from his hair.
“Good night, Caleb,” Essek says softly, and leans forward to kiss again, just a gentle peck on the lips. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He leaves the room, and Caleb is alone again with his thoughts.
So he tries to go to sleep at 8:30 at night, alone in a strange bed in an unfamiliar house, his thoughts racing as his skin feels like fire.
He doesn’t even look at the books Essek has left, too distracted by his own mind to pay them any attention.
The sheets smell like Essek, too: electric, herbal. Eventually, he falls asleep, warmed by the notion that, tomorrow, he will likely kiss Essek again, too.
(He never did find his sleep shirt.)