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Unwise

Chapter 4: Aeor

Notes:

Apologies to anyone who was confused by the rough draft I posted accidentally earlier in the week. This chapter was hardest for me to write and I'm still not completely satisfied with it but if I didn't publish what I have now I know I'd never finish this fic. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Text

The true culmination of the game finally came a few days into their research trip to Aeor.

It had been a long day of scavenging, interpreting, mapping the lay of the land, and occasionally fighting monsters. They had finally relaxed in the library of the tower, sitting in the same chairs where they had once discussed languages. When Essek offered him a drink, Caleb thought nothing of it. The glass was strangely sour elven wine, and he drank it absentmindedly as he read.

He had already been tired, so didn't notice the sedative taking ahold of his system until the book in his hands slowly slid out of them and toppled to the floor and he was unable to lift a finger to prevent it. With a sudden shock, he realized that he couldn't move. His body felt infinitely heavy, as though it would take the strength of a giant to budge even one inch. He tried to speak and found that his tongue lay dormant in his mouth. The only noise he could make was a startled little hitch in his breathing.

He couldn't turn his head, but as his eyes began to involuntarily fall closed Essek stepped into his view, peering down at him as though he were some particularly interesting research subject. It was the last thing he saw.


He awoke slowly, groggily, unsure of where he was or how he had got there. His head was still swimming, and his first instinct was to reach up and rub his temples--halted by the sharp tug of something cold and unyielding on each of his wrists.

He knew that feeling. Manacles. He took stock of his body, how he was positioned. He was sitting on a stone floor, his torso propped up by his bent knees. His arms were pulled behind his back, wrists chained together and to some fixed point in the room. There was something around his neck too--a leather collar? He shifted his torso slightly, trying not to make it obvious to anyone watching that he was no longer asleep, and felt the absence of the weight of his spellbooks. He was still fully clothed, and the room he was in was cool but not nearly so freezing as Eiselcross.

"Are you finally awake?"

A very familiar voice echoed slightly in the chamber. Essek sounded amused. Caleb opened his eyes to find the man standing over him, looking down at him like he was some curious beast. The chamber was very dark, a stone room with the only light source a torch or lantern somewhere behind him.

"W-Was ist...What happened?" Caleb asked. His voice was still gritty from sleep. He tugged experimentally on the manacles, hearing the soft clink of metal on metal as the chains went taught almost immediately. "What have you done?"

Essek crouched down and ran a hand through his captive's hair, fondly, possessively. Caleb shivered at the touch, breath stuttering in his chest.

"Did you really think I need your help to explore these ruins?" Essek asked. His voice was soft and mocking. "That I was so desperate for a wizard over a century younger than myself to come and save me from the monsters of Aeor? To take credit for the discoveries I can make perfectly well on my own? What a generous offer. Nothing less than I would expect from the good little Empire boy who feels he's entitled to know all the secrets of the universe. So smart and yet so very gullible. I have never needed a partner, and I do not need one now. But I will gladly have you along for this trip, because what I do need is some stress relief."

Fear gripped his heart as attraction gripped his stomach. There was a tug of war in his abdomen. His mouth went dry from both.

"What kind of stress relief?" He asked. His voice trembled.

Essek leaned in, grabbed the back of the collar to pull it tight across Caleb's throat and hold him still, and smiled maliciously. Caleb's eyes were as wide as saucers, unable to tear away from Essek's hypnotic gaze.

"Why don't you tell me?" Essek asked, almost a purr, and Caleb felt the intrusion of a Detect Thoughts spell pushing into his mind. Out of panic and self-conscious anxiety he tried to resist it, but in this addled state his will was not strong enough. His mind surrendered to the spell.

Essek perused through Caleb's brain like a catalog, quickly flipping past the various traumas to find what he was looking for. The fantasies, dark and mortifying and nothing Caleb would ever have the wherewithal to speak into existence. He caught flashes of them as Essek glanced over them, and soon could no longer bear to look up at Essek, instead staring down at the stone floor.

"I knew you were a base animal, but I'm impressed by how imaginative these all are." Essek said, clicking his tongue. "What a buffet of degeneracy you've provided me. This one is particularly tempting."

He paused on one particular daydream, letting it play out in more depth in Caleb's mind. Caleb, on his knees, hands bound behind his back, stuffed underneath a desk. Eyes glassy as he held perfectly still, under orders from a Dominate Person spell. Essek's cock in his mouth, as on the desk above Essek studiously copied spells from Caleb's spellbook into his own. Essek, reaching a stopping point and idly commanding Caleb to suck him off, Caleb forced by magic to obey...

Caleb swallowed, hard. His adam's apple bobbed against the leather around his neck. He yanked again against the manacles, more forcefully. They had no give. He tried to pull away from Essek, to create distance to see if he could at least stand, but Essek's grip tightened on the collar which in turn tightened the collar to near-choking. Caleb went still.

"I think I prefer you like this, however." Essek said. "Under your own power, such that your pathetic little struggles serve to underscore how helpless you are. Even resisting me, I could do whatever I want to you."

"What are you going to do to me?" Caleb asked hoarsely.

Essek patted his cheek with mocking sweetness. "Did you know that you're bright red right now?" He asked, as though Caleb hadn't spoken. "Your skin has a lovely way of broadcasting your every thought even when I'm not reading your mind. It's fascinating to watch. I especially love the way that it shows your pain." His voice slipped into a deeper register. "The way that a good hit can leave a mark on you that lasts for hours or days. Those fragile little blood vessels just under your delicate skin, ready to burst at a moment's notice."

Essek let go of the collar, and Caleb scrambled backwards with his feet until he hit a stone pillar. He used it as leverage to push himself up to standing, breathing heavily and staring at Essek. Essek grinned at him.

"You've given me cause to do a lot of studying up on the differences between human and drow anatomy." Essek said. He floated casually forward, and Caleb moved around the pillar and continued to retreat the best he could, noting with concern that the chain of his manacles ended at the pillar and there was only so far he could get away from it. Sure enough, twelve feet back the chain was pulled taught. "I'm sure it won't surprise you to know that humans have remarkably sensitive necks compared to most other races. Watching you react every time I lay a finger there, it's captivating."

Essek flicked his wrist, a lazy somatic, and a mage hand appeared right beside Caleb, trailing one spectral finger ever so gently across his throat, following the top lip of the collar. Caleb couldn't help letting a whimper slip out, and Essek's eyes gleamed with satisfaction at the sound.

"It might be time to run a few experiments of my own." Essek mused. He was getting closer and closer. Caleb circled around the pillar, trying to make more space any way he could. The chain began wrapping around the pillar, shortening it. Fuck. "I would love to add to the body of knowledge about human sensitivities and weaknesses. You'll make a fine test subject."

Caleb had never blushed so fiercely in his life. He felt he must have gone past red and into undiscovered colors not known to man. This was obscene.

Essek stalked him around the pillar, and Caleb continued circling it, the slack in the chain growing shorter and shorter until he couldn't move any further without being pressed up against it. He tried to dash and slip past Essek the opposite way, but a hand reached into his tangled red hair and jerked it sharply back. He stumbled backwards into Essek with a cry of pain.

Essek's hands unlatched something on his manacles, and the chain that connected them to the pillar went slack. It was replaced with Essek's hand, firmly tugging on the manacles to drag him backwards towards a door on the far wall. After a brief and unimpressive struggle, Caleb allowed himself to be led. He had to conserve his strength for a better opportunity, he reasoned. The lie helped him preserve some sense of dignity. Helped him ignore the slickness on the inside of his thighs.

The new room made his stomach twist into knots. He gasped and tried to stop in the entrance, but Essek yanked him forward and he lurched and stumbled inside. The door shut smartly behind them on its own. The room resembled nothing so much as a dungeon, the walls covered in instruments of torture and the various pieces of furniture covered in chains.

"Where are we?" Caleb asked.

"Oh, my apologies. How terribly rude of me not to properly welcome you into my lair." Essek said with that dangerous smile. "While you were unconscious I took the liberty of transcribing the spell for your tower and modifying it for my own ends. You'll get the full tour in time."

"You read my spellbook?"

Essek laughed. "You sound so indignant." He said, delighted. "No complaints when I was reading your mind, but your spellbook is verboten?"

Caleb responded only with a soft huff of breath and a futile yank against his manacles.

"What interests me is what I haven't heard from you yet.” Essek said smugly, letting go of Caleb and floating across the room to inspect the wall of tools and weapons. "No, Essek. Stop, Essek. Please don't do this. Let me go. Bitte hör auf damit.” Caleb saw the knowing glance backwards to gauge his reaction and cursed internally. Had he made it so obvious that the idea of Essek speaking Zemnian was attractive? That there was something deeply intimate about hearing his native tongue spoken with that warm Kryn accent? Of course he had; this was Essek, who could seemingly read him like a particularly unambitious book. Essek continued his monologue. “I haven’t heard any sort of entreaty that I cease. You can pretend that you don't want this, but your silence speaks volumes."

"Maybe I just don't want to give you the satisfaction." Caleb said, not even fooling himself. He backed up to the door so that his bound hands could try the handle. It was locked behind them. Of course.

"What an excuse! Well, time's nearly up." Essek said. He turned around, and Caleb saw something made of leather straps in his hands. "I hate to spoil the surprise but you're about to lose the ability to speak, so, ah, now is your last opportunity. Go on. Look me in the eyes and tell me truthfully that you wish for this to stop."

Caleb said nothing. The silence hung in the air, palpable. Essek’s smile grew wide enough that Caleb could see the glinting points of his fangs.

"That's what I thought." He said. He muttered a short verbal component and waved his hand as though motioning Caleb forward, and Caleb felt a force of gravity slam into him and shove him across the room until he was standing right in front of Essek. Essek kissed him softly on the lips before palming the main piece of the leather apparatus over his mouth and chin and pressing him face-first against the wall to keep it in place. Caleb struggled halfheartedly as Essek moved to quickly tighten the straps around the back of his head. It was a muzzle that kept his jaw shut tight.

"You're so distracting when you speak." Essek breathed just above his left ear. "And I can't afford to be distracted if we want to get useful data, now can I?"

Now who's making excuses, Caleb attempted to say, but it came out as muffled grunts. He could hear Essek's breath catch for a moment. Essek manhandled him to turn him back around and put a hand on his chest to push him firmly against the wall, his arms trapped painfully behind him. Essek's other hand traveled downward and unlatched his belt before unceremoniously shoving down his trousers and underclothes. Caleb jerked and yelped as two fingers slipped inside him. Just as rapidly, Essek pulled his fingers out to inspect them. He seemed fascinated by the glossy sheen.

“So much denial, and yet here’s the proof plain as day.” Essek said. “But of course, I expected nothing less. Humans are the whores of Exandria, and revert to their base instincts when they’re in peril: if you can’t beat them, roll over and pleasure them and hope it buys you mercy. You need not be so embarrassed. There is nothing more natural than one of your kind being used at the whims of a superior race.”

He wiped his fingers on the front of Caleb’s shirt, listening with a smile as Caleb tried and failed to offer a dissenting voice. Caleb felt something begin to settle warmly deep inside him, not just the heat between his legs but a gentle and relaxing feeling in his chest. He had had the power of speech taken away from him before, usually in battle; most recently in his adventures in the Archmage’s Bane. Those times, it had been terrifying and frustrating and had left him only shaken and unsettled. But here, now, it felt much more like a relief. Caleb was a man who constantly worried about the right thing to say, especially around Essek. Having the choice made for him to say nothing took a weight off his shoulders that he hadn't realized was there.

This was only the final piece of a puzzle Essek had been building since he had awoken. There was a strange state of mind taking hold of him that made him feel…docile. Receptive. As though he were falling into a bit of a trance, settling into a role he had been assigned. If he had not been paying such close attention to Essek’s words and movements he would have been certain that a spell had been cast.

Essek levitated Caleb a few inches off the ground to more easily remove the clothes from his legs and unbuttoned his shirt.

"If I take these off," Essek said, touching one of Caleb's wrists just above the manacles, "are you going to behave?"

Caleb gave a resigned nod. Even with his hands free, there was very little he could do at this point. He was no physical specimen, and Essek had spells to toss him across a room without a thought. Why did that feel so good, that dangerous helplessness? He still didn't know how to articulate the reasoning.

"Good." The manacles made a clicking noise and dropped from his wrists onto the ground. "I'm pleased to know you can be reasonable after all." Essek pulled Caleb's shirt off over his newly free arms and tossed it to the side with the rest of his clothes. Caleb shivered in the cool air, feeling even more vulnerable in the muzzle and collar than he would have fully nude.

Essek led him to the center of the room, where chains both lay loose on the floor and hung from the ceiling. Caleb held still and compliant as Essek manipulated his limbs and supplied new restraints. More comfortable cuffs, leather instead of metal, fitted around each of his wrists to hold them high above his head on either side, and similar cuffs were soon attached to his ankles to hold his legs apart. The chains connected to these cuffs tightened snugly, not painful but without any slack. It held his body outstretched in an X shape, completely exposed.

Essek circled around him, quietly inspecting up and down as though he was some arcane device that the mage couldn't determine the purpose of. Without any footsteps, the only sound in the room was each of their breathing, Essek's soft and collected and Caleb's heavy and quickened.

"I am an arcanist, not a poet, but when faced with a work of art I feel the pull to do it justice in words." Essek said. The feather-light touch of a single finger ran across Caleb's shoulderblades, sending shivers down his back. "And you are a work of art. Wunderschön." (Beautiful)

Caleb pointedly met Essek's eyes when he circled back around. Essek raised an eyebrow slightly and smirked.

"Geschickt." (Skillful) Essek said, reaching out idly to rub a thumb over Caleb's left nipple. Caleb tried to lean into it, but the restraints held fast as Essek pulled away and continued to circle.

"Genialität." (Genius) Essek said. A finger ran up the inside of his thigh, stopping just before it reached the most sensitive parts. Caleb whined softly.

"Und sehr sehr sehr...verletzlich." (And very very vulnerable) Essek said quietly just behind him, and then Caleb cried out in surprise and pain as Essek slapped him hard on the ass.

An even dozen strikes followed, hard enough that there were surely red prints of Essek's hand left on the skin. Caleb squirmed in place. He tried to crane his neck back but couldn't catch a glimpse of the man behind him.

"Such a clever boy." Essek said when he finally circled back around. "So clever for me. It feels like such a privilege every time you look up at me with those pretty blue eyes like there isn't a thought left in your head. Like I can cast Feeblemind simply by touching you, drain all that intellect and leave you brainless..."

Although Caleb could see both of Essek's hands, he felt the unexpected intrusion of fingers into his hole once more and let out a muffled moan. Essek had recast mage hand, it seemed. Essek reached up with his real hands to caress Caleb's face and chest, one hand idly playing with his nipple again and the other tilting his chin up to force eye contact. Caleb stared at him, helplessly, fearing that he knew exactly what Essek meant about looking brainless. Thoughts were harder and harder to come by at the moment, overwhelmed by pure physical sensation.

"Mmm, something like that." Essek said, and the mage hand began moving in and out. He tilted his hips back towards it, desperate for more contact, any contact he could get. Each touch from Essek was electric on his skin.

"Have you ever seen something so pretty that you just wanted to ruin it?" Essek asked softly. The fingers on his nipple became more firm, tweaking and pulling in a way that drew the air out of his lungs. "Perhaps I am simply an evil, sacreligious man. But there is a pleasure in breaking things, no? A base, animal pleasure. That's how I feel whenever I look at you." He ran his hands down Caleb's torso, drawn to the abdominal muscles that were tensed to maintain his spread position. "I see all this beautiful pale skin and I want to leave my mark on it, see that red bloom just under the surface. I see a clever human mage and I want to reduce him to a broken mess, begging me for mercy. If that is so wrong...well, other sins already have me bound for hell." He quirked a strange smile.

The mage hand pulled out of Caleb, and he whined at the absence. Essek patted him firmly on the stomach as though to soothe while the hand moved away, back towards the wall of torture implements. It returned a moment later to hand Essek a thin wooden stick.

THWACK. Caleb had no time to prepare himself before the stick impacted, leaving a long red welt just over his belly button. The pain came on sharply and bled into a deep ache in the muscles beneath that burned when he shifted his weight. He hissed and instinctively tried to pull away, but the bonds at his wrists and ankles held him perfectly captive. Essek ran a finger along the welt with fascination.

THWACK. Another strike in the exact same place. Caleb howled this time, jerking and shaking at the magnified pain. The angry line grew darker, more pronounced. Essek licked his lips.

THWACK. Caleb felt tears forming as the third strike came perfectly aligned with the first two. This strike was followed up by a few light taps that would not have been enough on their own to cause pain, but on the burning skin it felt as though Essek was cutting into him. He whimpered, pleaded wordlessly.

"Are you going to cry?" Essek asked, a hushed reverence in his voice as though Caleb was offering him some precious gift.

THWACK. Gods above, he had gone into this willingly. He had waived his only opportunity to refuse. He must be a madman.

THWACK. The promised tear rolled down his cheek and Essek paused to kiss it away.

"Your eyes sparkle so brightly when you cry, Liebling."

THWACK. Finally, finally, a strike somewhere new. A few inches lower on his stomach. The new pain was a relief. If he had been able to speak he would have been thanking Essek nonsensically.

THWACK. THWACK. THWACK. THWACK. The assault continued for long minutes, Essek raining down blows until everything between his ribs and his hips was streaked brilliant crimson. His body was trying desperately to curl in on itself for protection which only made the leather cuffs bite into his skin.

The mage hand finally took the stick and floated away to put it back on the wall, and Caleb sagged into his restraints. He raised his eyes from the floor to search Essek's face and was struck by how visibly affected the other man was. His eyes were blown out, his hair a sweaty mess and a deep violet flush to his cheeks. He was breathing almost as heavily as Caleb. 

Caleb stared, treasuring the chance to finally see beyond the careful mask of researcher and spymaster and academic to a raw and unredacted version of Essek who had no grand plots or machinations. Essek wasn’t doing this to further any unknowable goal. He was hurting Caleb because he got off on hurting Caleb. Refreshingly direct. If only more of life could be so simple. 

"Are you enjoying yourself, my little imperial toy?" Essek asked. A gentle hand brushed across his stomach, eliciting a broken whimper, then moved down between his legs, hesitating at his entrance. "I ask only to satisfy my curiosity, of course. My work is going to continue regardless."

He pressed inside, and Caleb found to his own surprise that he was deeply, embarrassingly wet. He fought his instincts to look away and instead met Essek's eyes, hoping that he could beg prettily enough with only his expression to get what he needed. Essek looked back at him, pupils nearly drowning his irises, bit his lip, and gave a shaky inhale.

"By the Luxon, Widogast, you really are something else." He murmured almost inaudibly to himself.

Caleb felt magic making him light again, and Essek's mage hand moved to undo the straps on his cuffs. Caleb was grateful for the levitate spell as he collapsed forward the moment one of his wrists was free. Essek hovered him slowly to a new corner of the room where there was a black leather couch. Caleb winced as his sore ass touched down. He'd been focused so much on the pain to his abdomen he'd almost forgotten that Essek's hands were surely immortalized in red behind him.

"I wish I had your memory." Essek said, sitting down next to Caleb and pulling him over so that his head was in Essek's lap. "You have no idea how depraved you look right now. I want to capture it somehow. If only I had any artistic talent."

The muzzle came loose, and Caleb realized that Essek had been fiddling with the straps. He hadn't noticed, feeling dazed and lost and somehow both worn out and pent up. Essek pulled it free, nudged Caleb back into a sitting position and handed him a glass of water. "Drink." He commanded, and Caleb obeyed without question. His throat had been dry, he realized only after the fact. There was so much happening in his body that he didn't seem to be aware of. Essek had a better grasp on what he needed than he did.

"You really haven't learned your lesson." Essek said, pressing a kiss to the side of Caleb's head. "I could so easily have poisoned this drink as well."

Caleb finished the glass. Essek took it back and set it on a side table.

"Tell me what you want." Essek said.

Caleb opened his mouth, but found that words escaped him. There were so many competing thoughts in his mind, vying for prominence, and also with them slinking back in like an unwanted guest was the shame that had abandoned him earlier. The self-conscious voice screaming that it was wrong to enjoy these things stilled his tongue.

Essek tsked at him, and Caleb felt a buzz of arcane energy in the air.

"I suggest..." Essek said meaningfully, "...you tell me what you want."

Caleb surrendered to the spell gratefully, threw himself upon it. He felt his eyes go glassy as some less inhibited part of his mind took hold of his voice.

"I want you to choke me." He said. His voice was a little hoarse from muffled screams. "Please. Bitte, Essek, I want you to grab this collar you've put on me and fuck me and threaten me and not let me breathe until I've made you come."

He flushed as soon as he'd finished, but had little time to dwell on shame as Essek's mouth crashed into his, kissing him hungrily. He moaned in pained pleasure as Essek pressed him down into the couch, hands groping at his tender stomach.

"I truly believe that the gods put you on Exandria just for me." Essek whispered. He sucked a hickey onto Caleb's throat and pressed a palm against Caleb's crotch and Caleb threw his head back and groaned with want.

"Please." Caleb mumbled encouragingly, mind rapidly degenerating back to a point where he could no longer think coherently. His hips bucked against Essek’s hand. "Bitte, bitte, please, Essek, please, bitte, I'll do anything, anything you want-"

"I know you will." Essek said roughly. He leaned back and grabbed Caleb's sides, ignoring the squeals of pain as he flipped him over so that his head was hanging over the side of the couch and his stomach was pressed into the armrest. Caleb clumsily brought his elbows up on either side to brace himself just in time for Essek to take his cock out and bury it in Caleb's hole. Caleb made a filthy, desperate noise and pressed back onto it to impale himself as deeply as possible.

"Take a deep breath now." Essek ordered. "It's the last one you'll be getting for a while."

Caleb took a deep breath, and felt the delicious pressure on his throat as Essek wrapped his fingers under the collar and held it airtight in his fist. He wanted to moan again but could only twitch and gag as Essek began using the collar as a handle to slam him forwards and backwards on his cock in a steady rhythm. 

“Gods, you feel so good.” Essek said between huffed breaths. “So hot and wet I don’t need to hear you beg, your body is begging for you. Telling me just how desperate you are for this.”

Pain, pleasure, pain, pleasure. They were bleeding into each other. One moment Essek was pulling Caleb towards him, filling him up completely, his hips hitting the sore spots he had left on Caleb’s ass. The next moment he was pushing Caleb down and away and the welts on Caleb’s stomach hit the arm rest. All of it hurt and all of it was hot and satisfying. 

"Imagine if I didn't ever let go. Wouldn't this be an ignoble end?" Essek asked. "The great wizard Caleb Widogast, pride of the Empire, hero of the Dynasty, died being fucked by a heretic traitor crick. Not that anyone would know, of course. When your friends eventually came calling, I'd spin them a tale of how you nobly met your demise in Aeor. Only I would know. Only I would be able to picture your pretty face locked in horror at the moment you realize this has gone too far. Your frantic struggles, far too late to matter."

Caleb felt the blood pounding in his head, the dizziness setting in behind his eyes, the incredible slick heat between his thighs as the most deranged and self-destructive part of his brain reacted to Essek's words like sweet seduction.

"Or perhaps that's thinking too short-term." Essek said. "Perhaps instead I could fuck you unconscious, give you one small sip of a healing potion to keep you alive and continue tormenting you for days, weeks, months. Chain you up as my prisoner and have my way with you, hurt you so beautifully, make you scream, bring you to the edge of death for my own amusement again and again."

The pressure was building in his lungs, the burning need for air. He clenched encouragingly around Essek, the only movement left available to him.

"I'm sure you know exactly how many seconds you haven't been able to breathe for." Essek said. His voice was choked, he sounded close. Caleb hoped he was close. "Do you also know how long you can hold your breath, I wonder? Or are you about to find out the hard way, as I fuck you until your limp, unconscious body is what finally gets me off?"

Caleb did, actually, know about how long he could hold his breath. Close calls in the water during his adventures had taught him that everything started to go black once he neared 200 seconds. It had now been 153 seconds since Essek had cut off his air. Somehow, this knowledge only served to strengthen his arousal.

24 more seconds passed, the only noise the thud of skin on skin and skin on leather and Essek's increasingly erratic breathing. Finally, when his lungs were on fire and his vision was blurring and fading, Caleb felt Essek give a few final thrusts and finish inside him with a strangled grunt. The hand at his throat loosened, and Caleb gasped for air, crumpling against the armrest.

Caleb nearly cried again when Essek pulled out of him. He was so close. So close. He sobbed weakly into the leather of the couch.

"I love hearing you beg." Essek said sweetly, letting his fingers just barely graze over Caleb's painfully hard dick. “Beg for me?”

Caleb had begged for his life with less intensity. The babble of words that poured out of his mouth was nonsensical, taken from two different languages and all in the wrong order, but the desperation and content was enough to force a shuddering breath out of Essek.

He flipped Caleb over and pressed his face close to where his fingers had been, his hand moving further back to fist into his hole. Caleb made noises that didn't make sense coming from human vocal cords as the hot, rough, wet pad of Essek's tongue swiped across the head of his dick. It took barely anything, a few circles with his tongue and one strong suck, before Caleb felt pleasure explode through his body.

Everything became luxuriously hazy.

It took longer than it should have to determine if he had died or not. Some distant part of him half-remembered that some language somewhere called orgasm “the little death”. Apt. He came around in bits and pieces, some parts of him tuning back in before others. Touch first, the feeling of a soft blanket being draped over him and cool hands running through his hair. Then sound, gently murmured words in a language he didn’t understand but recognized as Undercommon. His eyes were closed; he blinked them lazily open just enough to determine that his head was in Essek’s lap before letting them fall shut again and snuggling closer. The fingers in his hair rubbed gently behind his ear in a way that felt very nice indeed. He sighed happily. 

“I would call that a very productive experiment.” Essek said. 

“Mmm.” Caleb pressed a kiss to his thigh. “Did you learn a lot?”

“Oh yes.” Essek paused thoughtfully. The silence was warm and friendly. “I’ve learned that you will only communicate clearly under great duress, for one.” His tone was playful, joking. Caleb felt a slight blush come to his cheeks. 

“Well, perhaps that is something for me to work on.” Caleb said. He lifted his head a little so he could catch Essek’s gaze. The hazy afterglow had gifted him with carefree boldness and he wanted to use it before it dissipated. “You have never looked so devastatingly attractive as when you had just finished beating the living shit out of me.”

Essek was, for a moment, speechless. Caleb grinned up at him and lay his head back down. 

“I don’t deserve you.” Essek said finally. He ran his hand over Caleb’s back as though petting a cat, and Caleb gave a pleased groan. 

“No one deserves anything, Schatz.” Caleb said. He let his eyes fall closed once more. “You have me regardless, and I am quite enjoying being had by you.”

“What a prize I have, then.”