Essek has established a respectable cover identity for himself in Zadash as a traveling scholar, after all these years of coming and going. Enough to have shops he prefers to frequent when he is here, with good selections of merchandise and owners he trusts well enough to sell him what he needs without robbing him blind.
“I like the feel of this,” Caleb murmurs, slipping Essek a sheet of vellum.
“Yes,” Essek agrees—the grain is distinctly finer than what he usually encounters—but then he frowns at the price list. “Though the cost for it is exorbitant.”
“Perhaps, but it's not for nothing that our customers use this for luxury bookmaking,” the shopkeeper Ilia puts in, materializing suddenly at Essek’s elbow. “This must be your…”
“Partner,” Essek says absently, still examining the price list. Light, the cost of paper these days is beyond reason.
“Well, you have very good taste,” Ilia tells Caleb decidedly.
“Just the usual parchment for me, Ilia, if you don't mind. Ah, yes, very well,” Essek adds hastily when they raise an eyebrow at him, “I'll take ten gold worth of the vellum.”
They beam at him and bustle to the counter to ring up Essek’s purchases without further ado.
“There you are,” Essek says wearily, putting the bundle of vellum into Caleb’s hands. “I still think we might have gotten a better price for it in Emon. Everything is so expensive in Zadash these days, with their imports at a pause. Paper, especially, and when one is this near an archive of the Cobalt Soul—” Essek pauses. “What? You look like a fish, opening and closing your mouth like that.”
Caleb splutters. “What did you say to them?”
“Ja,” Caleb says. His ears are turning red for some unfathomable reason.
“That I wanted my usual parchment. I have bought paper from them several times—”
“No, before that,” Caleb interrupts.
Essek blinks at him. “That the cost for the vellum was exorbitant?”
“After that,” Caleb says, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I didn't say anything else. Are you alright, Caleb?”
“You said.” Caleb takes a deep breath. “You called me. Your partner.”
“Ah, yes. I did.” Essek still doesn't understand. “Did that bother you?”
“It's not that it bothered me,” Caleb says, looking anywhere but at Essek. “It's that. Well. We never really talked about it in such categorical terms.”
“Yes, but I find that it is a useful word considering its versatility,” Essek says reasonably, guiding Caleb by the elbow before he can trip over his own feet. “We might co-own a business. Or maybe we run an accounting firm. We might even be committing crimes,” he adds, grinning at Caleb ruefully. “Maybe it is all of the above. Who knows?”
A beat. “I see,” Caleb says.
“Of course, that is not how I meant it,” Essek says, as an afterthought. “Also, while we're here, could I tempt you into stopping for some of those meat skewers at the Pentamarket?”
“Essek,” Caleb says. “What did you mean, then?”
What a silly man he is, sometimes. Essek sighs and kisses him on the mouth, right there in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Husband would be inaccurate,” Essek says, as Caleb nearly chokes on his own spit. “And boyfriend sounds too juvenile, even for a young man such as yourself. Careful, you're going to wrinkle the vellum.”
“Then I suppose you can go and buy me some more,” Caleb mutters under his breath. His whole face is a delightful shade of pink.
Essek smiles to himself. “Yes to the skewers, then?”
“Ja, alright,” Caleb says, in a tone that implies unspeakable capitulation on his part.
But he lets Essek take his hand for once, even though they are in public, grumbling all the while about certain elves who do whatever they want, when they want, so what does it even matter what he thinks? But they walk hand in hand to the market anyway, Caleb smiling the entire way there as though he can't quite help himself, his cheeks still flushed pink.
theartofmadeline
stormborns
dededos
kianamaiart
prguitarman
