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A drop in the ocean, a change in the weather
I was praying that you and me might end up together
It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert
But I'm holding you closer than most
'Cause you are my heaven
A Drop in the Ocean - Ron Pope
It’s silent, the way that Essek lands haphazardly into the living room of Caleb’s modest Rexxentrum home. It’s late, night has long since fallen and the lights inside have been extinguished, leaving him standing in the grey darkness. His eyes adjust to the dim, having just teleported from a sunny roadside half of Exandria away to be here in this instance instead. For a moment the silence is peaceful, the last of the ring of battle ebbing from his eardrums. Then his side throbs and pulses and he is suddenly reminded why he is here in the first place. His free hand, the one he’d use to cast, joins its sibling on his bleeding side, pressing down to try and hold the blood inside of him where it belonged, rather than letting it drip all over Caleb’s living room rug. Still, he can feel the steady ooze of it between his fingers, dripping down into his clothes. He hopes Caleb will forgive him for ruining his decor. He opens his mouth, preparing to call for the man in question, but the second he tries to take a step further into the house, his feet give out from under him and he collides with the side table next to the couch, sending both himself and the books atop it tumbling to the floor with a resounding crash. His head connects with the ground, a sharp pain lancing through his skull and his vision blurs.
He doesn't even hear Caleb’s approach. The next thing he knows, the room is filling with bright amber light and he hisses, closing his eyes tightly against it.
“Scheiße, Essek!”
Familiar hands grab hold of him and wrench him to sit upright, propping him up against the side of the couch. He dares to crack open his eyes and finds Caleb inches from his face, eyes wide, the remainders of sleep tucked into the corners. He can’t help the familiar swoop in his chest the sight of Caleb brings to him. He looked the same as Essek had last left him, only now copper locks are twisted back into a sleeping braid, the one that he’d taught him, oceanic eyes dancing in the light of his amber orbs.
“Caleb Widoga- st,” He chokes on the name, blood bubbling forth to his lips with a cough that sprays flecks of blood across Caleb’s face to match the freckles. Instantly his hand leaves his side to cover his mouth, smearing the blood across his face as another cough brings up more. The blade had apparently struck him deeper than he’d thought. It hadn’t felt like it at the time, though he supposed that was the adrenaline talking. Above him, Caleb swore again and grabbed for the pouch on Essek’s belt. He tugged it free and rifled through it. Essek had had the small bag of holding since before their Aeor trip and was thankful, now more than ever, he’d kept it well supplied with healing potions. One of which Caleb now produced and pressed into his hand with a forceful drink up before he rose and slipped out of the room into the kitchen. Essek necked the bottle in three gulps, the bitter liquid searing his tongue, before setting aside the empty container to look down at his side. At least the potion was doing its job, the flow of blood slowed, skin slowly knitting itself back together so that when he removed his hand, all that was left was the tear in his clothes from where the blade had slashed him and the blood on his hands and lips.
Caleb returned then with a bowl of water and a cloth. He knelt before Essek, wringing the water from the rag before capturing his chin in order to wipe away the blood that pooled at the corner of his lips. They parted in surprise, but Caleb didn’t linger longer than needed, turning back to the bowl to clean the rag. Once he’d wrung the extra water from it once more, he offered it to Essek with a wry grin.
“Not that it isn’t good to see you, Herr Thelyss, but I prefer it with more warning and less blood.”
Essek smiles ruefully and takes the offered cloth to clean his hands.
“Believe me, had I the time to give notice, I would have.”
Caleb chuckled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“What happened, Essek?”
Essek sighed and dropped the rag back into the water.
“Bandits caught me unawares on a roadside. I was surrounded and being stabbed before I could draw breath to cast. When I did get a chance, I’m afraid I didn’t have time for a sending before I teleported, my apologies.” He tried for humourous, but like many of his jokes before, it fell flat and Caleb simply raised an eyebrow.
“Well, in any case, are you otherwise unhurt?”
“The potion appears to have done its job, thankfully.” Essek patted his side. It was still tender, but at least the wound had sealed over. “I am sorry, Caleb, for appearing unannounced and in the middle of the night.”
Caleb waved him off with a flick of his hand, before offering both to Essek. He took them and Caleb hoisted him back to his feet.
“Think nothing of it, my friend. I’m just glad you’re safe.”
Without his floating cantrip, which he hadn’t used much since going on the run, he stood at eyeheight with the cupid's bow of Caleb’s lips. The lips that smiled fondly with a curl of the corner. And if the temptation to kiss Caleb hadn’t been there before, it certainly flared back to life with the view in front of him. So, cheeks burning with violet blush, he blinked aside, instead catching sight of his hands still cradled carefully in Caleb’s. His indigo skin contrasted so harshly against the pale, freckled pink of Caleb. Then his thumb swiped absently across the top of Essek’s hand and he loses whatever trail of thought he was having, eyes flicking back up to meet Caleb’s.
“Can I offer you-”
“You have blood-”
They both stop and look at one another for a second, before Caleb cracks first and chuckles, squeezing Essek’s hands to motion for him to speak first.
“You have, ah, blood on your face. Here.” Essek slips his hands from Caleb’s in order to drop down and collect the rag from the water, wring it out and return upright. He hesitates for a brief moment, wondering what stars led him to this timeline where he is gently cleaning his own blood off of Caleb’s face while his own burns hotter than the sun. He works quickly to wipe away the blood, leaving nothing but the constellations of Caleb’s freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheeks in his wake. With that task finished he knelt again and busied himself with cleaning the rag, trying to regain what pieces of his pride he could and force down the blush on his cheeks.
“Here, let me.” Caleb drops down beside him, taking the rag from his hands with a bump of their pinkies before dumping it onto the bowl. He stands once more and takes the whole lot with him back out into the kitchen, his amber lights trailing along to light the way.
“Would you like some tea? I have some blends from Caduceus you may enjoy.”
“Ah,” Essek takes a second to let his brain catch up with the last few seconds of sudden activity from Caleb. “Ah, yes, tea would be…yes.”
He shakes his head and stands. If he was going to be having tea, he could count to be here a little while. Even if he hadn’t been on the run, a hundred years of manners didn’t just vanish overnight. With a click of the fastener, he removes his outer layers of cloaks and drapes them carefully over the back of the couch. He then straightened out his torn shirt the best he could, absently smoothing down the creases. Not that Caleb would care after the state that he’d just seen him in, crumpled and bleeding out on his living room floor. But he still has his own dignity to think of, so with a wave of his hand, he summoned his chest and flicked it open to dig out a fresh shirt. He tossed the torn one on top of his cloaks, Caleb would have a needle and thread for him to fix it later, and tugged on the fresh shirt, his hands pausing on the buttons at his collarbone.
How long had it been since he’d felt comfortable changing in such close proximity to someone? True, Caleb was not just anyone. They’d spent six months in close quarters in Aeor and Essek had no doubt there was no one else on the face of the Exandria who knew him as well as Caleb did. But, even then he had not changed with Caleb so close. There had always been many walls between them, both real and ones he’d put there himself in his mind. Of course, it wasn’t the first time he’d shed his outer layers in front of Caleb, showing him what lay beneath the cloak of armour he hid behind, but it was the first time he’d done so without thinking. The first time he’d felt welcome to do so. When had he begun to feel so safe in the man's presence that he would shed his coats without a second thought? Without their protection, Caleb could see right through him. Had already seen right through him. Caleb had been privy to the worst parts of him and yet had welcomed him into his home this night with a smile.
He shivered and tucked the thought away as he skipped fixing up the buttons and instead closed his chest and sent it back to its fold in space and time. If there was a lesson to be learned from this incident, it was that he should invest in some actual armour, not just the metaphorical stuff.
Essek, having pulled himself back together, finally stepped into the kitchen and caught sight of Caleb coaxing the small fireplace to life with a wave of his hand before placing the kettle atop it. Essek shifted into the space with noise, his footsteps on the floorboards, not wanting to startle the other wizard. Caleb threw him a glance before moving to pull down two unmatched cups from the overhead cupboard. Caleb glances back at him again and smiled sheepishly.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any matching sets, most of them are gifts from Jester from wherever she makes port.”
Essek smiled at that.
“I do not mind. I would expect nothing less from our dear Jester.”
Caleb grins again before turning back to his cups to dig out the tea bags. Once he has done that he turns and fully takes in Essek. A singular red eyebrow raises.
“You changed your shirt?”
“I had a spare. Could I trouble you for a needle and thread? I think I can fix the tear in the other one.”
“Of course, I shall dig it out for you. Watch the kettle?” As Caleb steps past him, he places a hand on Essek’s shoulder with a firm pat, before continuing on out of sight. As Essek turns to watch him go, he comes to a realisation. Caleb had touched him more tonight than almost all of their combined time in Aeor. In the frozen wasteland, there had almost been a barrier between them. Something off. Essek hadn’t been sure at the time what it was but now he thought on it, Caleb had been avoiding touching him then. But not now.
Caleb had always been so free with his touch, his embraces, his care. Essek was suddenly reminded of not that long ago when Caleb had held him in the sanctuary of the Blooming Grove, the heat of an often-thought-of kiss burns against his cheek, hotter than the blush that alights it now. Caleb had been warm then, like the fire he commanded and controlled, and part of Essek wanted to feel that warmth again. Wanted to press in and be tucked up under Caleb’s chin and curl into the hollow of his collarbone, like he’d seen so many of the Nein do before. The evidence suggested that it was a comfortable spot and Essek was a scientist by nature, his curiosity had to know. To know what it was like to be embraced by Caleb when they weren’t saying goodbye, where he didn't have to let go so soon. Where he wouldn’t go months on end wondering if he should have just turned his head and kissed him like he wanted to.
Caleb returns in short order, placing a small sewing kit onto the kitchen table before stepping back over to the stove.
The kettle whistles and Caleb sweeps it off and over to the waiting cups on the countertop, and Essek still watches him unguarded. He knows that if he cleared the distance and embraced Caleb that Caleb would return the gesture. He knows this. And it's that thought that finally carries him forwards across the kitchen towards the expanse of Caleb’s back. Trying not to completely startle him, Essek lets his footsteps echo as he steps forth, lets his hands land on Caleb’s back, gives him time to say something, anything, or to draw away. Instead, Caleb sucks in a breath between his teeth and stays stock still, as if any sudden movement might scare Essek away. So he continued, wrapping his arms tightly around Caleb’s midriff, sinking his hands into the fabric of his shirt, clinging on as if Caleb might suddenly vanish from under his fingertips. Essek presses in further until the line of their bodies connects and he rests his forehead in the space between Caleb’s shoulder blades and breathing in deeply. Woodsmoke, charcoal, ash, a spice that is purely Caleb.
For a time there were no words spoken. Caleb slowly reanimates, seeming to accept Essek is not going to flee, and goes about pouring their drinks and dunking the teabags. Essek can feel each movement Caleb makes, the flex of the muscles in his back and shoulder as he reaches for the sugar, the gentle hum of his breath in his lungs, the hammering of his heart. Instinctively Essek smooths a hand up and over Caleb’s chest, coming to rest over the place where the pounding organ beats within him. Caleb’s only reaction is the off-clink of a spoon hitting the side of the cup as he stirred. Eventually, he sets the spoon aside.
“Essek?”
Essek hums softly but doesn’t move.
“We can’t drink tea like this.” Caleb’s voice dances with fond amusement.
Essek lets his hands tighten minutely on Caleb’s shirt.
“I…I do not want to move.” Essek finally admits, the words little more than breath past his lips. But somehow, he knew that Caleb heard him.
Caleb hummed thoughtfully, and Essek flinched as a hand suddenly covered his own, the one still resting over Caleb’s heart. For a wild moment, he thought Caleb may forcefully remove him from his person, but instead Caleb just let his fingertips glide across the back of his hand, tracing the patterns of his freckles.
"Why did you come here, Essek?"
He blinks slowly as he considers Caleb's words.
Why did he come here?
With a wave of his hands, he could have gone anywhere in Exandria. Caduceus could have patched him up without the use of his healing potion. Would have sat him down and offered him tea and they could have had an extended chat about the grove and the new blooms that would be cropping up at this time of the year. Yasha and Beau would have offered him the same protection and healing. They were no more than a stone's throw from Rexxentrum in their farmhouse and it would have been safer there than in the heart of the city like he was now. The same with Jester, Fjord and Kingsley who he knew for a fact would have happily healed him back up and then proceeded to hunt down those who had hurt him. But in the end, the choice he had made was to flee straight into, figuratively and literally, the arms of the man who in another life would have been his greatest enemy.
Why did he come here, specifically to Caleb ?
They had danced around each other in Aeor, skirting the lines of flirting with lingering glances and the lightest brushes of hands in passing. Of long nights with legs entwined in the middle of the couch as they read, or heads knocking together as they puzzled over their latest findings. The soft intimacy of spending so much time in the company of just each other had flared his crush back to life with the heat of a burning blaze. But then their trip had ended and they had parted as nothing more than friends, despite the feelings that had tried their best to claw their way out of his chest when Caleb had drawn him in to say goodbye. They had promised to keep in touch of course, then spoken only once in that time when Essek had reached out to see if Caleb was amenable to him visiting. Caleb had turned him down due to the impending final trial of Ikithon and Caleb’s fears for his safety. Essek had then hesitated on every sending since, the disappointment mounting until weeks had passed and he feared it had been too long and his voice would not be welcome in Caleb's mind.
So in the end he’d gone months without Caleb, without his voice, his physical form in proximity and yet the flame in his chest lingered, seeming determined not to be extinguished even when he had decided to shove it down and aside in favour of the friendship Caleb had offered. And now, at the first chance to run to him, Essek had done so without thinking. As usual. The answer he’d long searched for suddenly came to him as easy as breathing, easier than he was willing to admit. It felt like for so long he’d been staring into the sun and now he looked aside it had been there beside him all along. Because no matter how hard he tried, or how much he forced his feelings down, he still held a candle for the man who commanded the flame. But it was no longer a candle now that he looked. Somehow, without his notice, that tiny flame turned into the all-consuming inferno that tore through him at the mere thought of Caleb Widogast.
He had run straight to Caleb because he had missed him. Because he had missed the way he felt when Caleb was beside him. Because he was ardently and adoringly in love with him.
Essek finally let out a shaky breath as the admission sank into him. He had admitted it to himself, now there was nowhere to hide. Absently he pressed his face further into Caleb’s back and clutched him a little tighter as if that would help ground him from the emotional turmoil he’d just put himself through. Caleb lets out another aborted breath, tensing under the touch before slowly relaxing once more.
“Essek?” Caleb’s voice is soft and careful, his fingertips drawing to a pause atop his hand. “May I turn around?”
Essek suddenly realises he had not spoken a single one of his thoughts aloud, leaving Caleb to the silence of the night. But he didn't sound upset, concerned if anything. Essek swallows past the lump in his throat and releases Caleb just far enough that he can turn in the circle of his arms. As soon as Caleb is facing him, Essek latches back on, burying his face into the hollow of Caleb’s throat, trying not to think too much of his own childishness at this moment, hiding away from his own feelings. Caleb huffs an aborted ‘ oh ’ before his arms come up and wrap around Essek tightly, tucking his head under his chin as he leans back against the counter. Essek leans into him, a half step closer, grasping to focus on anything but the realisation that he is in love with Caleb. He is in love with Caleb . Caleb who was now holding him in the exact position he’d been wishing to be held in earlier in the evening. A warm hand soothed down along his spine as Caleb spoke into his hair.
“What is wrong, Liebling ? Tell me. Let me help you.”
Essek whimpers, curling in closer, selfishly hoarding this moment away in the fear he may never get another like it. He half expected Caleb to shove him away, to put up the barriers between them once more. But instead, he is brought ever closer, a cheek pressed into the top of his head.
"Were you afraid? It is alright to have been scared, but you are okay now. You are safe with me. I won't allow you to come to any more harm tonight."
Nails gently scraped against the hair at the nape of Essek’s neck and he shivered but Caleb pressed on.
"I can make up the spare room, or the tower if you like. Please, just tell me what you need."
Essek twists his fists even tighter into Caleb’s shirt.
“I…I do not know what I need, Caleb.” His voice is somewhat muffled into Caleb’s clavicle but he finds himself still unwilling to move. “I find I just wish…I want to stay here.”
Caleb hummed again, one hand curling around the back of Essek’s neck, sending goosebumps across his skin, the other spreading out across the expanse of his back, keeping their forms pressed close together.
“When you say stay here, do you mean here as in Rexxentrum, as in my home or…perhaps here in this moment specifically?”
Essek mused for a moment, as if he didn’t already have an answer, internally debating what the chances were that Caleb was already onto him.
“This moment.” He finally confirms. Caleb lets out a slow breath and Essek can feel it under his hands as his torso contracts, then expands with the next breath he takes in.
“Essek.” He would never tire of the way his name sounded on Caleb’s tongue. “Essek, Liebling , please look at me.”
Essek shook his head minutely.
“I cannot.” He hates the way his voice breaks like twigs being stepped on. “I cannot.”
Caleb’s hands are hesitant as they shift to cradle his head. But he does not force Essek to look up, just holds him as he trembles. He feels lips press to the top of his head.
“ Schatz , what is it you fear so?”
Essek hesitates, the words caught in the back of his throat. He swallows heavily, trying to jostle the lump that had formed in the scarce seconds since Caleb had spoken.
"I fear…” He takes a deep breath. “I fear to look up and find…that you do not hold me in the same regard I hold you. That you will not want me the way I want you. That you will not kiss me ."
Caleb sucks in a sharp breath. Essek can no longer count the seconds by his heartbeats, the infernal organ pounding away in his ribcage threatening to shatter it open. After an eternity, or perhaps just a few moments, Caleb speaks.
"Essek, look at me.” The hands on his face gently nudge at him this time. And this time he heeded their siren's call, letting Caleb’s palms coax him to tilt his head back and meet Caleb’s waiting gaze. Where a part of him, the part that would always hate himself, had expected to find disgust, perhaps anger, on Caleb’s face, he instead found nothing but warmth, a familiar fond curl of his lips as he regarded Essek.
“Essek, Schatz , nothing could be further from the truth."
The breath in his lungs escaped with a whoosh as if he’d been stuck, in a mix of shock and relief that twined into his guts and threatened to make him nauseous. But he pushed it down and aside at the revelation that Caleb, clever, wonderful, beautiful Caleb Widogast could ever be in love with him.
“You tease me,” He says, feeling the tears well up and threaten to break rank. Caleb’s lips fell open and his brow furrowed before he swooped in to press a kiss to Essek’s cheekbone, just below his eye.
“I would never. Not about this.” His lips drift lower to press another soft kiss to the very corner of Essek’s mouth. Essek trembled. “I want this. I want you .”
“Then take me.” Essek whispers. “Take all of me. It was always yours.”
Caleb puffs a gentle breath across his cheek before turning his head just enough that their lips ghosted against one another. It was brief and chaste, but his heart still somersaulted in his chest and proceeded to pound like a drum throughout his whole form. He wondered briefly if Caleb could feel it under his fingertips, in the veins in his throat where his hands rested, holding Essek’s head aloft.
“ Caleb ,” The words have barely left his throat before Caleb is kissing him again, properly, deeply, sealing his lips against Essek’s firmly to drink deeply of him. His hands are gone from Essek’s face, instead wrapping around his waist and spreading up along his spine, pressing Essek to him as if he needed to be in contact with as much of his form as he possibly could. Essek finally released his death grip on Caleb’s shirt, his hands sliding up to hold his face, letting his fingers comb into his beard to cradle his jaw. For someone so in control of the weave of time, he is lost to it as Caleb urges his mouth to part and admit his tongue to curl in behind his teeth, earning him a shuddering groan from Essek. Caleb continues to kiss him, as if he’s trying to steal the very breath straight from his lungs, crashing like waves against the shore with each press of his lips until finally, Caleb draws back, pressing their foreheads together and panting into the space between them.
“Essek.” He could live a thousand lifetimes over and never tire of the way Caleb speaks his name like a whispered prayer on uneven breath. “Essek, stay the night, bitte .”
“Where will I stay?” Essek hums as Caleb turns his attention to his jaw, pressing kisses from the corner of his mouth up towards his ear.
“In my bed with me,” Caleb murmurs right next to his ear, sending a shiver sprinting down Essek’s spine. “Where I can hold you and come morning know that this was not just a dream.”
Essek huffed a soft wet laugh, trying to regain some semblance of himself as Caleb continued to kiss at his jaw and neck. He’d never known this feeling of fullness in his heart. The complete and utter bliss at the thought of spending the rest of the night tucked up in the warm embrace of Caleb. And he wondered, now he knew it, would he ever be able to let it go again?
“I can’t imagine anywhere else I’d rather be,” He sighed fondly before dragging Caleb’s lips back to his own. Against them, he spoke softly. “Do I have to leave by morning?”
He feels Caleb’s amused smirk.
“Nein. No, you can stay as long as you wish. As long as you can.” Stay for my lifetime . Caleb doesn’t say.
“Then I will stay till morning. Or perhaps longer.” I love you. Essek doesn’t say.
Drawn together like the forces of gravity they meet once more. A warm press of lips in a low-lit kitchen in the heart of the empire. Essek knew then, that a life without knowing how Caleb Widogast tasted on his tongue was a life he never wanted to know.
By the time either of them remembered, their tea would be stone cold.
