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Essek’s ears were just so… pleasantly enticing. There was really no other word for it. Caleb was distantly aware that his idea of what was an erotic body part was somewhat skewed when it came to Essek. First of all, they had many cultural differences between the two of them. Essek had a thing for Caleb’s hands, and Caleb had a thing for Essek’s ears. They had talked about it. They had played with it. They had explored it.
It didn’t stop the novelty.
Essek’s ears were not so different from Caleb’s own human ones. Unlike goblinoid ears or a tiefling’s long, demonically exaggerated points, elf ears were often smaller, more akin to a human’s, if the shell a bit more pointed at the tip. Where Caleb was aware that his curled into your typical round human seashell sort of shape, the cartilage of Essek’s dusky purple-black ear was firmer, thicker, and came to a rounded point. Essek often decorated it with bits of metal and precious gems, filigree chains that twinkled and made the softest sort of susurrations as they swung, tinkling against the other bits of Essek’s accouterments when his ear twitched.
That was the other thing. Caleb knew that some humans were able to intentionally wiggle their ears. Apparently it was an old, vestigial muscle that only some humans could purposefully flex, which would rotate their ear in a kind of silly-looking wiggle, usually done for joke effects. But elves? Though Essek would be loathe to admit it, they seemed to have an instinctual sort of twitch to them, the muscle not only active and connected, but sensitive. Emotionally activated, Essek’s ears would sometimes pin closer to his head, or wiggle with the slightest tension when he was excited.
Or shake with the slightest sort of quiver when aroused.
Caleb had spent long hours watching them. Essek did not often go into a full night’s sleep, preferring to trance when possible, but it was possible to knock him into deep unconsciousness with enough orgasms back-to-back. Then, and only then, could Caleb snug himself up behind Essek in the quilt-covered bed they shared in Caleb’s Rexxentrum cottage, nuzzling the back of Essek’s naked neck and slipping his hands around Essek’s trim waist. He could lay there, breathing in the faint neutrality of sweat and bergamot-scented soap, and press kisses to the short white fuzz at the nape of Essek’s neck. Each kiss to the pulse point at the line of Essek’s jaw brought another twitch of his ear, a soft sort of inelegance that Caleb found immensely endearing.
And so very easy to nibble on.
They were just so delicate. Small, pointed, firmer in texture than Caleb’s own. A thing of mystery, a small delight to be teased and trifled with. Stripped of cuffs and chains and jewels, Essek’s ear was a pointed black-purple treat, twitching in his sleep with the slightest of movements. Caleb stroked the shell of it with one careful finger, tweaking the tip and huffing a silent laugh when it twitched out of his fingers, much like one of the cats’ when he felt like accosting them.
But unlike one of the cats, Essek sighed into it. Pressed back against Caleb, stirring in the sheets and humming sleepily, sighing a soft puff of air that turned into a snorting snore, and then a, “Caleb…?” in the dark of night.
Caleb laughed softly, shifting again and petting across Essek’s belly with one warm hand. Between trips to Aeor and Caleb’s Academy work, it was always pleasant to take their time in the wee hours between daytime work and nighttime recovery, laying in the liminal space of their bed— a place where responsibilities did not reach, and peace was the only option.
“I’m here, schatzi,” Caleb murmured, sighing and resettling. He pressed another kiss to Essek’s shoulder, dragging his teeth along bare skin in a ghostly retravelling of the marks he’d left there earlier. The colors of pressure and bites, a sort of lurid indigo, were displayed as black as Xorhassian night-blooming lilies across the expanse of Essek’s shoulder.
“Mmm…” Essek sighed and settled again, squirming a bit against Caleb’s hands. “What time…?”
“3:42 a.m.,” Caleb informed him, just for posterity. “But do not worry about it overly much.”
“Hm…” Essek huffed, a hint of humor to his voice. “You are awfully active for 3:42 in the morning.”
“Perhaps you are not active enough,” Caleb countered. “What happened to your nocturnal graces?”
“When in Rexxentrum, and all that,” Essek retorted with a sleepy shrug. But he pressed against Caleb’s chest, tilting his head to the side to allow him easier access. His breath was soft, mostly even against his pillow— but there, Caleb thought with a bit of personal humor. The twitch of one pointed ear, up and back, fluttering expectantly.
He let one hand coast up across Essek’s chest, feeling the smooth skin of his belly, the growing definition of his chest and arms from hard, magicless travel in the frozen north. He stroked the line of Essek’s long, elegant neck, cupping Essek’s jaw to turn him just enough to press a soft kiss to the corner of his sleep-slack mouth. Essek smiled into it, pressing a peck back against him, and shifted his legs in the sheets.
Caleb mouthed at his ear, nipping at the edge of it. And there, the desired reaction: a hitch of breath, a shuddery sigh in the dark. Essek’s hips shifted, bare and warm against Caleb’s own.
Together they stirred in the dark, Caleb’s hands wandering, Essek sleepily enjoying the casual worship. Caleb slowly stroked Essek’s cock in his fist, bringing him to hardness as gently and lazily as he dared. They were in no rush; there was no need to hurry, to finish, to move on. Pleasure for the sake of pleasure, here in their bed, in the comfort of dark together, was all that was needed of them. Essek’s sighs grew louder, breath coming in harder gasps, from soft inhales now to sharp hisses, air forced through teeth dug into one full lip. Caleb’s hand circled his cock and dragged one of his own legs over Essek’s, effectively pinning him in place as he slowly stroked him off, fingers slicking through the pearly precome along the length of him, warm and wet against Caleb’s palm. Essek only sighed, moaning quietly in the restrained way Caleb always liked to ruin, chin tucking down as if to muffle his own pleasure.
“No need to silence yourself, schatzi,” Caleb murmured. “No monsters or friends to hide from here. You can be loud, ja?”
Essek laughed, arousal making his grasp on Common shaky. His tongue stuttered over the words as he said, “You forget we have three very nosy cats in this house.”
“And the bedroom door was shut against the nosiest of them when we did this earlier,” Caleb reminded him.
“Hm,” Was Essek’s curt response. But his mouth fell open again as Caleb’s fist tightened, hips rocking against him. And his ears again, there, quivering in little shaking twitches, pinned against Essek’s head. Caleb breathed softly against them, pressing kisses to the spot just below where they touched Essek’s scalp, drawing the soft lobe into his mouth. He dragged his teeth over it, groaning in a gratified sort of way when Essek finally cried out, hips jerking against Caleb’s full-body restraint. A spur of precome wet Caleb’s fist, and so he did it again, dragging his flat human teeth along the curve and point of Essek’s ear, worrying at the gentle curl of it. Essek shivered against him, hand sliding back to grab Caleb’s hip, pulling him closer.
They rocked like that, tangled in the sheets, pressed close enough to meld into one luxurious mess of pleasure, as Caleb twisted his grip along the length of Essek’s cock, slicking faster and faster, squeezing the head and rubbing his thumb along the wet frenulum until Essek squirmed, high-pitched little moans falling from his mouth like they were startled out of him.
Right there at the line of tension, when Caleb could just about feel the string about to snap, Caleb all but forced the orgasm out of Essek, hand working him enough to burn the muscles of his forearm, palm warm with friction. His hand was slick with Essek’s pleasure, and Essek’s body thrashing like wild magic in the cradle of his hold.
Again Caleb leaned in, dragged his teeth along the sensitive curve of Essek’s ear, and there— a bite, sharp and hard against the cartilaginous tip, holding it in his teeth like a beast about to tear it away— all to feel it twitch and writhe against the clench of his jaw as Essek convulsed in his arms, cock spilling over his fist with a cry in the dark.
“Gods,” Essek gasped at last, body going slack. Caleb let Essek’s ear flick away from between his teeth, licking his lips as if he could taste the flesh on them still. He nuzzled the back of Essek’s neck again, letting his come-slick hand drag down Essek’s hot, bare hip to slip between his thighs, just to feel the encompassing heat of him.
And then away. They were in no rush.
For now, Caleb wiped his hand carelessly on the sheets, shoved them out of range of accidental-rolling-on, and settled down again into his pillows, patting Essek’s belly fondly.
He was just dozing off again when Essek’s voice, wavering and rough, yet amused nonetheless, murmured, “And you…?”
“Not necessary,” Caleb assured him. “Consider it an indulgence.” He pressed another kiss to Essek’s shoulder, luxuriating in the radiating heat of the drow’s body against his own, sweat-damp and fragrant.
“Hm,” was Essek’s dubious response. “In the morning, then.”
“In the morning,” Caleb agreed with a smile between Essek’s shoulder blades. “You may do whatever you wish in the morning, if you are still feeling brave about it.”
“‘Brave,’” scoffed Essek— though he settled into the sheets again with a self-conscious shove of his pillow, pointedly ignoring Caleb’s half-hard cock against his backside. “Says the man who could not wait until morning in the first place.”
“3:42 a.m. is technically the morning,” Caleb assured Essek. “And a wonderful time to test my favorite theory.” His heart was already settling back into the rhythms of sleep, and he sighed, letting one proprietary arm link around Essek’s waist again.
“Theory?” Essek murmured. He, too, sounded half back to dreamland.
“Your ears are lovely,” was all Caleb could muster as he felt sleep overcome him. With a warm blanket at his back, a warm drow at his front, and decadent arousal in his veins, he drifted into the cozy abyss of rest. “And all the better to hear me with.”