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They had run home eventually.
Home being the Dynasty now, definitively. The Empire had betrayed them, as they knew it would eventually, and so they had scurried back to Xhorhas with their tails tucked between their legs, a bleeding and critically wounded Caduceus in their arms.
Essek had been there to greet them, of course. He had been his normal self; cool, confident, charming. Caleb thought nothing of it, except that it was good to see the Drow man again. His hair was a little longer than Caleb remembered, but then again, it had been six weeks since he’d seen him last.
Then Essek grabbed his arm and held it, a facsimile of what Caleb had done two months prior, when he had tried to convince Essek to teleport them a second time. The touch was warm and unexpected, solid flesh against the thickness of his coat. “Caleb,” he said softly, squeezing Caleb’s arm gently. “I--I am glad you are safe.”
There was a coy giggle behind him, and the scent of blueberry perfume over his shoulder. “Did you miss all of us, Essek? Or just Cayyyy-leb?”
“Of course I missed all of you,” Essek said without missing a beat, holding Caleb’s gaze for just a moment longer as he spoke, not even bothering to glance at Jester. He then turned towards the rest of the Nein, but he didn’t let go of Caleb’s arm. “I’m glad you are all safe. The Queen has been worried.”
Not just the Queen, Caleb thought but didn’t say, enjoying the warmth of Essek’s touch.
He let go of Caleb’s arm then, turning his attention towards the group, leading them towards the Queen. But Caleb’s arm still felt warm from where he touched him, and he felt his cheeks flush from want, wishing that Essek were holding his arm still.
Oh.
“I think he likes you!” Jester had whispered, as if she were revealing some sort of deep conspiracy, as they walked quietly back to the Xhorhaus.
“Who likes who?” Nott asked, overhearing her, one step behind Caleb.
“Essek! He totally held Caleb’s hand and everything , did you see?”
“He held my arm ,” Caleb clarified, wishing it were a bit warmer, and that his cheeks weren’t quite so red from the cold air.
“That’s basically the same thing Caleb!”
“It isn’t,” he bundled his coat around him tightly. For a moment he missed Rexxentrum; it might have been raining there constantly, but it was still a little warmer. At least there, his face wouldn’t feel like it was on fire. “I held his arm before, remember?”
“Which just means you like him back,” Jester responded smugly, unwilling to be argued with even as Caleb started to protest. “Are you going to ask him on a date? ”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Caleb huffed, his cheeks pink from more than just the cold.
“Oh, why not?” Nott argued, flanking the other side of Caleb, a conspirator look in her eye. “We’re going to be in Rosohna for the next few weeks. It could be the perfect opportunity for you to get to know our favorite Shadowhand a little better,” Nott winked. “If you know what I mean.”
(He did know what she meant.)
“You are both ridiculous,” he repeated, pushing forward so that he was flanked by Beau and Fjord instead, leaving a giggling Jester and Nott behind him.
The thought lingered, however.
He hadn’t--his experience with lovers was limited. Not quite as limited as some of his party members--he had been in a relationship before, which seemed to put him far ahead of Fjord, Jester, and Caduceus--but just the once. He had been-- physically --with others, but that didn’t feel like it counted. Not at least in matters of the heart.
As a child, working for Ikithon, he had seduced a lot of people. Men, women, people who had information he needed. It had been a game, back then, a way to hone his skills and take care of the Empire’s enemies, as well as have some fun. He and Astrid used to compete over marks, to see which one of them could seduce them first. Sometimes they’d seduce a target together; other times they’d compete over the same person, to see which one of them managed to capture the target’s eye first. One particularly memorable opportunity had involved a married couple suspected of treason, but they had been unsure which one of the pair was the traitor. This had led to a young Bren taking home the husband while Astrid brought home the wife for an evening of pleasure and investigation.
(The traitor had been the wife; Astrid took care of her in more ways than one.)
Flirting with Essek the way he had felt a little bit like his youth; a dangerous game of cat and mouse that he didn’t know how it would end.
And he had been flirting with him, hadn’t he? He didn’t even do it consciously, it was just--it just was. Essek flirted and he flirted back, and that was just how they communicated. It was as natural as breathing, something instinctual and primal that he did on instinct. It didn’t mean anything.
Did it?
I think he really likes you , Jester had teased him, but her words had been earnest, a layer of truth underneath her sly niggling.
There was...evidence that supported what Jester had to say, true, Caleb had to give her that. Essek always seemed to pay more attention to Caleb than he did any other member of the Mighty Nein. Of course, one could assume that perhaps the drow just felt more comfortable around another wizard, but there was something about Essek that made Caleb wonder if perhaps it was something more. It was the way he said things (“I think I figured it out?”), the way he smiled, the way he lingered--
...Perhaps Essek did like the cut of his jib, so to speak. What did it matter? It wasn’t as though Caleb was going to do anything about it.
Oh, but why not? Nott’s voice echoed in his mind.
Because! He wanted to argue back. Because he was Caleb and he didn’t flirt with handsome young men, not unless it was a ploy to try and get something. Because Caleb was damaged and broken and no one could ever love him, and if Essek was flirting with him, it must be because he thought Caleb had something that Essek wanted or needed.
Which was fine, because Essek had something Caleb wanted, needed. Dunamancy . The magical study of time and space. The fact that Essek was handsome and dashing was just a delightful bonus.
Whatever Caleb had that Essek might need, he had no idea. He wasn’t that talented of a mage, although he was constantly getting better, and it wasn’t as though he was a source of Imperial knowledge. He might’ve been at one point, but whatever information Caleb had about the Empire was eleven years out of date.
It wasn’t as though either of them genuinely liked each other.
Did they?
So what if Caleb thought Essek was handsome? So what if Caleb found him smart, and clever, and charming? It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. Caleb was--
Caleb was---
He had a mission. A destiny . He couldn’t be distracted by a pretty face, even if said pretty face was, perhaps, the key to figuring out everything he wanted.
How could he possibly be allowed to have a--a lover , when his parents were dead in the ground?
Oh, but they’d want you to be happy, he thought, and felt his stomach turn at the thought of it.
Was it such a terrible thing to consider? Astrid had been happy for him, when he saw her again. Happy that he was alive and well and potentially useful, no longer dying of madness, left to rot and be forgotten in an asylum. Was it impossible to think that his parents might want him to be happy, too?
If Astrid, who he hurt in the past, who he must have burned once, could be happy for him, could his parents not be happy for him as well, even if he didn’t deserve it?
When he was a little boy, he used to tell his mother how pretty she was, and ask her if the woman he’d marry someday might be as pretty as she was, with her long red hair and bright blue eyes. She would laugh, and tell him that the hypothetical woman would be prettier, and as a child Bren thought that was impossible, for his mother was the most beautiful woman in the world.
Essek was hardly the fair maiden Caleb’s mother must have pictured for her son, but he did have all of the important qualities. He was kind and generous (he gave them a house) , and he was remarkably intelligent--smarter than Caleb, even, which was quite an accomplishment. And he was terribly handsome, in a way that made Caleb’s knees want to buckle, and--
Of course, Caleb’s father hadn’t been terribly fond of drow, but Caleb’s father had been a loyal subject of the Empire, and look where that got him.
Stop it. You are overthinking things. Caleb chastised himself. No one is asking you to marry him.
Hell, he didn’t even know if Essek liked him back, the way Caleb liked Essek.
Oh. Caleb wondered suddenly, as Frumpkin jumped off his lap, disturbing his thoughts.
He did like Essek, didn’t he? The thought was a revelation, a puzzle piece sliding together in his psyche that made every interaction he’d ever had with Essek suddenly make sense. He liked the drow, liked him in a way he hadn’t liked anyone since Astrid. It wasn’t just respect or admiration that he held for the drow--it was something deeper, more primal. He didn’t just want to use Essek--although a part of him still did want to use him, wanted to learn all he could about the Kryn’s time magic--but he also just liked him.
What if it’s both? Was he allowed to have both? Was he allowed to both genuinely like Essek and want to use him to further his goals?
If anything, the thought made him seem more alluring.
Would he and Essek end up in bed together, tangled sheets and warm bodies wrapped around each other?
Would it remain a game between them, the tension never fully breaking?
Would it go too far, too fast? Would they end up killing each other?
He wouldn’t know unless he tried, would he? It was a calculated risk, certainly, but--
His arm still felt warm from where Essek had touched him, earlier. And he had made stupider decisions before, with far less beneficial payouts.
It became a game, after that.
How often could he touch Essek, and how would he react to it?
He hadn’t wanted someone like this in a long time. The knowledge that Essek wanted him, too--was--was powerful . Intoxicating. Enthralling.
A hand lingering on his knee got him nothing; the drow neither pushed him away nor encouraged him, but let Caleb’s hand stay where it was. A quick grab of his elbow had gotten his hand yanked away and a blush on Essek’s face that Caleb counted as a victory. Once, when they were discussing a particularly difficult spell, Caleb had managed to hold Essek’s hand for an entire minute and seven seconds before the drow realized it, and quickly let go to turn the page of the book they were studying.
Was it any surprise that Caleb grew bolder?
A hand on the shoulder during a teleportation spell. A whispered laugh put a hand on his chest that lingered.
Of course he wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“You’re being stupid ,” Jester told him, her voice full of judgment as they started walking towards their destination. Essek had teleported away already, his eyes burning from the bright light of the sun, but Caleb had squeezed his shoulder one last time before he left.
He tried not to roll his eyes at her. “Oh? What have I done now?”
“You won’t just talk to him!” Jester pouted, arms crossed. “You keep touching him but you won’t just, ask him out on a date or something!”
Fjord frowned nearby. “Who is Caleb asking out on a date?”
“Essek,” Jester and Nott answered in unison, as Caleb groaned and hung his head in shame.
“Aw, that’s nice,” Caduceus added sagely. “Where are you guys going to go?”
“Wait, Essek’s going somewhere with Caleb?” Yasha rushed forward. “I missed something. I thought he just left?”
Before Caleb could answer her, Jester piped in. “Caleb and Essek like each other but they are both too stupid to do anything about it.”
Beau’s hand was on his shoulder, hard enough to bruise. “That’s rough buddy.”
Great. Now the entirety of the Nein knew. Fantastic. Wonderful. Exactly what he was hoping for.
“It’s not that simple,” he sighed before taking off his jacket, wishing that this tropical island they were on for Traveler-con wasn’t so hot, so that his face wasn’t so red.
“Why not?”
“Because life isn’t like a romance novel, Jester!” he snapped, his voice a higher pitch than he meant. He opened his bag and stuffed his coat in it, in part to have an excuse to hide his face from his friends for a moment.
Behind him, Jester huffed and crossed her arms. “Well, I don’t see why it can’t be that simple. You're both being stupid. You like him. He likes you. Ask him on a date and kiss him already.”
“Better plan,” Caleb snarked, trying to fandangle the stupid coat that he should have left back in the Xhorhaus but didn’t, and now didn’t want to fit in his bag. “I keep flirting with him and touching him. Eventually, the sexual tension breaks, and we sleep together, and we never ever have to talk about feelings, ever. The end.”
Fjord blinked at him. “Does that--does that actually work?”
“ No. ” Jester and Caduceus said in unison, looking at Fjord, as if disappointed he would even think that.
“Solid concept,” Beau nodded approvingly, much to Jester and Caduceus’s horror. “But too vague. At this rate it’ll be months, maybe even years before you get to sleep with him. You need something bigger than arm touches to get his attention,” she looked over him with a keen eye, trying to size up his form. “Hey, you wanna borrow a crop top? Show some skin?”
“That’s not a terrible idea,” Nott commented, inspecting Caleb curiously. “Take off your shirt around him, maybe get a haircut---”
This was a nightmare.
“You guys ,” Jester whined. “You’ve got it all wrong. You’ve got to tell Essek you love him. Preferably in a romantic setting, with moonlight. And candles! Do we have any candles back home? Once the candles are lit, then you can suck his dick.”
“Oh!” Yasha clapped her hands together. “Do you want us to ask Essek out for you?”
“One moment,” Caleb asked. He then turned around, grabbed his coat out of his bag (that was only half in to begin with,) and screamed into it.
Once the Nein knew about his-- crush , for lack of a better word, it was only a matter of time. In spite of being at Traveler-con, Jester still somehow managed to find the time to cast Sending to Essek once a day. She didn’t ever say anything about Caleb’s crush, but she kept hinting at it, in a way that was overtly humiliating to Caleb.
The rest of the Nein weren’t much better. They kept trying to give him advice , and none of it was any good.
Even Nott , and she was married.
“Just be yourself!” She said, as if any person ever had liked Caleb ever when he was just “being himself.”
“You should make, like, intense eye contact,” Yasha offered, in the middle of battle, her Magician’s Judge halfway through a storm giant’s thigh. “That’ll show that you’re interested in him.”
“Or you could cook for him,” Caduceus offered, flinging a bane at the second storm giant. “Everyone loves good food. I would date a guy who brought me food.”
“I do not need the help,” he scowled, flinging a firebolt and killing the third storm giant. “Please stop giving me advice.”
The advice did not stop , however, in spite of him asking for it.
“I keep telling you, man, you gotta show some skin ,” Beau told him, punching a crazed cultist in the face. “Take your shirt off around him. Show him your abs! Then he’ll ask you out and you won’t have to do anything.”
Caleb did not have any abs; Caleb had a skinny ribcage. He did not think Beau’s plan would work, though he saw how it could, if he were built like her.
Even Fjord, currently in the process of being sacrificed to a volcano by a group of crazed cultists, felt the need to chime in. “Well, whatever you do, don’t sleep with him and then find out he’s a crazy person, because I did that with Avantika and it, uh, didn’t work out well and--”
“ENOUGH!” He shouted, ignoring where the cultist had stabbed him in the side, and he was bleeding profusely. “I will talk to him when we get back to Rosohna! I promise! Now please stop it!”
The cultist who stabbed him got whacked unconscious with a giant lollypop. “We’re just trying to help,” Jester scowled, making him feel guilty as the cultist in front of him dropped from her guiding bolt.
Fjord broke the grapple he was in, tumbling to the ground and escaping the cult’s grasp. Nott killed the second storm giant with a crossbow bolt to the face. Yasha decapitated the cult leader, thus stopping the ritual. Caduceus healed him, a little bit, enough to stop the bleeding at least.
“I know,” he sighed, flinging another firebolt at one of the last remaining cultists. “I’m sorry, I do not mean to sound ungrateful. But this is something I have to do on my own,” he shook his head. “You were right in the first place, Jester. I have to talk to Essek.”
One of the cultists gave him a thumb’s up. “Good for you, man.”
Then Jester knocked him out with her lollypop, and the fight was over.
When they returned to Rosohna a week later, a little tanner and battle-worn, Essek had been there to greet them, as was becoming the standard.
“Welcome back, Mighty Nein,” he smiled at them all, but smiled most at Caleb. Gosh, but he was pretty when he smiled. “I hope you were successful in your mission?”
“Traveler-con was pretty fun . You should have stayed with us,” Jester hummed, tossing a green cloak at Essek. “I got you a souvenir.”
“Thank you,” he blinked at her, holding the too-small green cloak. “I think.”
“We did not find a beacon,” Fjord explained on behalf of the group. “But we did manage to stop another one of Tharizdun’s cults.”
“That is good, at least.”
“Yeah! Can you believe those fuckers tried to infiltrate Traveler-con???” Jester whined, crossing her arms. “Unbelievable.”
“Anyway,” Beau started. “Caleb needs to talk to you. Alone.” She pushed him forward, away from the group, causing him to almost lose his balance and fall flat on his face.
Those motherfuckers.
Luckily, Essek seemed unfazed by the request. “Of course. We can talk in my office, if you would like, Caleb.”
“Ja. That would be good,” he glared daggers at the rest of his party. “I will see the rest of you back at the house.”
Nott winked at him. Beau slapped him on the ass. Yasha, unsubtle, said “Good luck Caleb!” in front of Essek and everyone, causing him to flush.
But they left, thankfully, leaving Caleb and Essek alone, walking the hallway together. “Are you alright?” Essek asked, genuine concern in his voice. “Your face is rather red.”
Oh, ja, he was fine, he just wanted to murder his closest friends, the people he considered family. “Sunburnt,” he said instead, glad for the half-truth at least. “My people weren’t meant for constant bright sunlight.”
That earned him a small smile and a chuckle. “Neither were mine,” Essek joked, hand gracefully gesturing to his own dark skin, sensitive as it was to bright light. He opened the door to what must have been his office and held the door open for Caleb. “Please, come in.”
Essek’s office was rather small, but it was clean and neat, meticulously organized in a way that must have made sense only to the drow. There was a desk in the center, with a large stain glass window depicting the Bright Queen behind the desk. On his desk were a few scrolls and books, and a few feathered quills and ink pots. Off to the side was a round orb Caleb recognized as a scrying device.
The two walls flanking Essek’s desk were filled to the brim with books, and for a moment Caleb was distracted from his purpose here, his eyes glued to the abundance of knowledge before him. Most of the books were written in Undercommon, which made sense, but one or two were written in Common.
“Mordenkaine’s Tome of Foes,” Caleb said, running a hand down the spine as he recognized the title. “I had to read that one for school.”
“You’d be surprised how often I have to reference it,” Essek smiled kindly. “The Dynasty is a diverse place,” He gestured towards the chair in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat. You wanted to speak with me, I believe.”
Right. Fuck. He had to do this, now of all times.
Essek sat at his desk. With Essek seated, the stained glass window behind him made it look as if the Bright Queen were staring down at him, watching his every move.
“It is of a personal matter,” Caleb explained, wishing his hands weren’t quite so sweaty, sitting down across from Essek. “Please note that I did not intend to discuss this with you. However, my friends discovered my feelings, and put me in a position where I either had to talk to you about it, or they would, and I did not want to subject you to them. They can--they can be a lot.”
Essek nodded. “That tracks with what I know of them. Well? What is it?”
“I--I have enjoyed spending time with you, Shadowhand--”
“Essek, please.” He said with a gentle smile.
That made it worse. “Essek,” he said, twirling his thumbs around one another, “I often find myself looking forward to my lessons with you and conversing with you. I find they are often the brightest part of my day,”
Essek smile was soft. “Mine as well.”
Oh, there was a lump in his throat again. Deep breaths, in, then out.
“I--I am attracted to you, Essek of Den Theylss,” Caleb breathed out, forcing himself to look Essek in the eyes, in spite of the how uncomfortable it made him. “And I find it is something I can no longer simply ignore.”
Essek was quiet, a perplexed look on his face. Caleb wished he would say something, anything, But no, the drow was quiet, and in the silence of the room the only thing Caleb could focus on was the rapid beating of his heart.
I’ve fucked up , Caleb thought, panicking. I shouldn’t have said anything.
“I see,” Essek said finally, pushing away from his desk. “That wasn’t what I thought we were going to talk about.” The drow paused, looking away from Caleb. He seemed a little nervous, but then again Essek was notoriously hard for Caleb to read. “I will speak to the Bright Queen. See about getting the Mighty Nein a new liaison, and get you a new tutor for Dunamancy. I think I can convince her to see the value in teaching you--”
Wait, what?
“I’m sorry?” Caleb said aloud, wondering if his understanding of Common was failing him.
“I--apologize, deeply, for making you uncomfortable,” Essek said, and begun pulling paperwork out of his desk. “It was never my intention to put you in such a position.”
“I am so confused,” Caleb shook his head, even as Essek began filling out a scroll, his head bent over his desk. “I’m not uncomfortable. I’ve never-- you’ve never made me uncomfortable.”
The drow did not say anything; instead, he began filling out a missive with diligence.
This was a nightmare; not only had the drow rejected him, but now he was trying to make it so that Caleb wouldn’t be able to see him again? He had to stop this. “I--Essek, I do not want another liaison, or a different tutor! I want to be with you .”
“To be with you would be unethical,” Essek looked up, just briefly, from his paperwork. “In spite of how much I may want it.”
Oh. Oh.
Not a rejection, after all.
“I don’t understand,” Caleb shook his head. “Please, talk to me.”
Essek didn’t. Instead, he stood up, scroll in hand, and moved to walk out of the room. Caleb moved to stop him, standing in front of the door, blocking his exit.
“Move, please,” Essek said softly, his voice barely a whisper. He was so terribly close to Caleb, one hand on the doorknob as Caleb’s back was pressed against the door.
“No,” Caleb shook his head. “I won’t have you ruining everything just yet. Not until you explain it to me, first,” Essek’s mouth was so close to his, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss him. “In spite of how much you may want it? ” He repeated Essek’s own words back to him.
“You’re beautiful,” Essek said, as if it were an obvious fact. “You’re intelligent, and remarkable, and any man or woman should be so lucky to have you,” he said, as if the words pained him slightly. “But I should like to make one thing clear,” Essek said, breathlessly, his mouth so close to Caleb’s that it was hard for Caleb to focus on the words he was saying. “So long as I am teaching you dunamancy, and so long as you are my ward from the Bright Queen, I will not lay with you. It’s immoral, and I will not hold such power over you, even if it is something you think you want.”
“It is something I want,” Caleb argued, struggling to concentrate with Essek so close. “I don’t have to think about it.”
“It is immoral ,” Essek repeated, like his words mattered. “You would be beholden to me. I would have power over you, and I–I would not–I will not taint our relationship in that way.”
Relationship? Oh . Perhaps that was where the miscommunication was occurring? “I--I do not wish to just lay with you, Essek. Although I want that, too,” he ran his hands down the side of Essek’s face. Essek did not pull away from the contact, though Caleb could tell he was torn. “I wish to know you. I--I want to spend more time with you, not less. I want to get to know you , to spend time with you outside of work and study.”
They were both quiet for a moment. “You want a relationship.”
“Yes,” Caleb breathed, grateful that Essek seemed to be understanding him for the moment.
“That is, uh,” Essek was blushing, his cheeks a darker shade of purple than the rest of him. “Different. Less of a--an imbalance.” He looked up towards the ceiling though, avoiding looking at Caleb, or perhaps looking towards the Luxon for guidance. “Still probably a bit immoral, though.”
“Why?” Caleb asked thoughtfully. “I am an adult. I am not a citizen of the Dynasty. I would not be,” he shook his head. “ Beholden to you in any way.”
Essek was still looking at the ceiling, but he was biting his lips. “Wouldn’t you, though?”
Caleb moved Essek’s head, forcing him to look at him. He kept his hands covering Essek’s cheeks, enjoying the closeness. “I just wish to know you better. I want to know who Essek Thelyss is. Why do you float all the time? What’s your family like? What do you look like underneath this mantle? I do not think there is anything immoral with tha--”
Essek kissed him.
Softly, at first, just a gentle peck of lips. But Caleb cupped his face, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Essek’s arm wrapped around his back, holding him close as their mouths explored one another.
The need to breathe pulled them apart, although Essek kept his forehead pressed against Caleb’s. For a moment, they simply breathed next to one another, enjoying the closeness of being pressed against Essek’s office door.
“I, uh, I float all the time because,” Essek started to explain. “I was injured pretty badly when I was younger. I can walk, but it’s painful to do so for long periods of time, so I tend to float a lot so that I can move around better.”
“Makes sense,” Caleb said, kissing him again.
“And my family,” Essek kissed him, again, again, again. “Is large. And complicated.”
“Hmmm,” kiss, kiss. “Relatable.”
“As far as what I look like underneath my mantle,” Essek smirked as he pulled away from the kiss. “Perhaps I could show you. Tonight, for dinner.”
“I would like that,” Caleb smiled, and kissed him again.