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Essek has had many faces; between them, even more names.
Among his favorites are those wrapped in jests and in teases, in kind intent nevertheless.
‘Twinkle Toes’ dresses in a faint brogue, while ‘Essie’ stays in a softened shrill tone. ‘Man’, gruff enough in a way he can comfortably withstand, and ‘big guy’, gently rumbles from one twice him in dimension. ‘Best friend’, shortened to ‘bestie’, laced in bouncing vowels.
‘Friend’, ‘my friend’, shared between a placid drawl, a light sea-sway, and a thicker, now-sleepy lilt.
And now in the last, though not quite new, the newest:
“Dear.”
The word itself is a smile, the syllable of it nothing but sweet.
“Another to the list?”
Essek asks, unnecessarily, given the grin glinting in his dear friend’s pretty blue gaze.
A threaded blessing like the rest, Essek sets aside this title’s very own crafted space.
“It is you, hm?”
Fingertips trace along his cheek. The whisper, the planes of his face.
Pads follow warm to the well-worn homes of kisses, the different paths they all may take.
Greetings. Goodbyes.
The ‘do better’s, the ‘come back’s.
The very best in this moment: the ‘please stay’s.
“What do you think?”
A great many things, all tricky to phrase, so as always, Essek weaves in this one, too.
“Caleb Widogast…”
That suffices, a crystalline success as Essek draws out a simple chuckle; he catches it like a butterfly, a quieting brush betwixt.
By now, he needn’t say much else to convey this trickling depth of delight.
Even still, he does try, for Caleb is well worth every effort.
“Very well. Call me as you would like.”
But Caleb peers, clicks his tongue.
“So formal.”
A teasing curl to his mouth, like a taste isn’t quite enough to sate.
Well, certainly a challenge can’t stand.
“Caleb Widogast.”
His name honey, Essek glazes it to Caleb’s lips.
Smile toothy, Caleb backs.
“My friend?”
“Silly man.”
And again Essek leans, unresisted.
Caleb tuts.
“Needs must.”
“Ridiculous man.”
Once more, Essek meets him, and this Caleb parts with a laugh.
“But of course, my dear. And your thoughts?”
A little sigh, nuzzled close; Essek returns exactly to where they began.
In a silent reply, he gifts Caleb yet another kiss, this one up, soft between brows.
And he smiles, affection’s roots having grown ocean-deep in his chest.
“You know, given time… I think that it just might do.”