checked my inbox and had approximately a million extremely excellent doodle prompts from you fine people! tonight's lucky winner is @sounddrive, who requested:
kissing behind a tome that is only partially covering their faces
Perhaps this was intended to be an arcane tome of nerdery, but I saw the opportunity to remove some dignity from hot boi and I took it.
also included the non-tome version, to restore some dignity.
thank you to @mllekurtz for being a sounding board for the truly terrible blurb on the back cover!
@aboxthecolourofheartache suggested that Essek's copy of Tusk Love 2: Even Tuskier was an advanced copy sent by Jester. I totally agree! Have a sweet and silly ficlet. 💜🧡
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"I am merely providing feedback at Jester's request," Essek muttered once his lips were his own. "She sent me an advanced copy." His cheeks were a very pretty purple, Caleb decided. There should be more color like that in the world.
"Of course," agreed Caleb, kissing him again and gaining another pleasant flush of violet for his efforts. "You have a good eye for such things, so I am sure" — he pressed an open kiss to the corner of Essek's jaw; there was a sharp inhale — "Jester will appreciate it."
By now Essek's cheeks were very purple, so things were proceeding right on plan.
The plan was a simple one. Reading was (by mutual unspoken agreement) the closest thing to an act of worship that occurred within the walls of their house. A reader deeply engaged in a book was left alone unless requested, out of respect for the passionate embrace of knowledge between brain and text.
But there were other acts that happened in this house that inspired some passionate reverence of their own, and it was upon finding Essek reading shameless smut that these acts had inserted themselves into Caleb's imagination and assembled themselves into a goal.
Essek clearly knew something was afoot, though whether that was due to a natural inclination toward suspicion or a previous inclination toward sacrilege, Caleb could not say. He stayed in Caleb's arms, though, which was very pleasant, and became more so when Caleb felt the light pressure of hands settling on his back.
Essek met his gaze, waiting. He looked fetchingly well-kissed.
Caleb answered. "Your lips move when you read, were you aware?"
Essek drew back, brows furrowing slightly, as if offended there could be an aspect of his presentation that was out of his control and worse, endearing. "They do not."
"No?" Caleb bit his own lip, thinking. Essek's eyes dropped gratifyingly to his mouth, so Caleb thought a little more and let his fingers trace over the nape of Essek's neck in what could, at a stretch, be considered the fidgeting of a contemplative mind.
White lashes fluttered. The hands at his back clenched in his coat.
"I could be wrong," he said, now running his fingers through the the short-cropped hair on the back of Essek's head, "but how else could I have learned about Oskar's rippling muscles and glistening, hot, throbbing-"
Essek kissed the rest of the sentence right out of his mouth. Excellent, Caleb thought for the brief second he retained coherence, right on plan.
They were both a little breathless when Essek pulled back. "It is strange you mention Oskar's" — Caleb's brain went a little fuzzy as Essek completed the phrase with a few additions Caleb was certain were not part of the text, and did so by whispering into Caleb's ear — "since Oskar has not yet removed any clothing in my read."
He rested his forehead against Caleb's and narrowed his lovely, white-lashed eyes. Essek looked purple and dangerous, which was Caleb's favorite look on him. "She sent you a copy, too."
"Ja, that must have been it. She knows I am a fan of quality literature." He grinned unrepentantly into Essek's gorgeous, dangerous face. "I penned a stunning review."
Essek chuckled. "I'm sure the review was glowing," he murmured silkily, "but through someone's actions, I do not find myself with a mind for literature at present." Then he closed the distance with a searing kiss, which suited Caleb just fine.
Later, after there was quite a bit more purple and rather a lot of rosy pink as well, they tucked themselves together in lazy comfort on the couch. Caleb congratulated himself on a successful plot.
Essek turned his face from where he had been nuzzling Caleb's neck and let out a tiny breath. It prickled cool over Caleb's heated skin, and it meant Essek had been thinking.
"I do not mimic words as I read," he said. It was a question, clinging to the inflection of a statement.
"You do," Caleb said into a crown of soft white hair, "but only when you are deeply drawn into the arcane. It is how I know the next thoughts you share will be brilliant ones, so I pay attention." He pressed a kiss to the top of Essek's head to punctuate this.
"Hmm," Essek said, pleased and discomfited all at once to be noticed, to be known. He lay quiet in Caleb's arms for a moment, and then he traced his fingers through the hair on Caleb's chest. This meant he was up to something.
"And if I were to change my focus from the arcane to, ah, literature? Perhaps read passages aloud? Would you mind me well then?"
Caleb imagined Essek's plush mouth and velvet-soft voice shaping around the rest of the scenes in the novel. "You would have me on my knees in a few sentences, I think."
Essek hmmed again. "A plan for future, perhaps. To spring upon you unsuspecting, deep in a book of your own."
"Well, I mentioned I am a fan of quality literature," Caleb said and drew Essek tighter in his arms, "and I find myself partial to the narrator. I look forward to it."
gracieabrams
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ellievsbear
gummygunk
