A gay story: Elven Lovers Ch. 01 The Inn was quiet when Cale and Yarrow returned to their room. Their evening out had been good medicine; local fare, casual conversation, a lengthy stroll in unfamiliar neighborhoods. Part of the fun had been trying to find their way back, in fact.
Now that they had returned, Yarrow slipped his arm from the crook of Cale’s elbow as he opened the door. In silence they crept inside, mindful not to wake anyone. Though who they would wake was a mystery. It was winter, there were not a great many travelers through the town, anyone who was here would be in their own homes.
Cale closed the door behind them and bolted it. He could hear Yarrow behind him, shedding his outer layers, and he started to do the same. The coat he hung on the back of the door before he sat on the only chair in the room to undo his boots.
Cale caught Yarrow’s eye across the narrow room, lounging on the bed, one leg tucked under him, his red hair sweeping down over one shoulder to fan in front of one glittering brown eye. The sight, as it often did, of his sweet smile, the delicate markings on his face, made Cale pause, returning that gaze with one of his own.
“You’re beautiful,” Cale said without thinking, and smiled when he saw one of Yarrow’s delicately pointed ears tinge red with his blush.
“And you say you’re bad at flattery,” Yarrow chided him.
Cale chuckled softly, tossed his boots in the corner and stood. Yarrow scooted over so Cale could join him, and he obliged, one hand working at the laces of the opposite cuff on his shirt.
“Here,” Yarrow interrupted his hand with his own, and Cale shifted to accommodate his long fingers, give them easier access to the stubborn strings.
“…Thank you,” Cale murmured.
He could smell Yarrow’s hair; a faint scent, like a fragment of a dream, fresh air and a hint of cloves. He found himself watching Yarrow’s face as he focused on undoing the ties on his sleeve.
Cale watched Yarrow’s lips twitch into a smile before he said, “you’re staring, you know.”
Cale quickly looked down at his sleeve with a laugh. “Apologies. Seems I can’t help myself these days.”
Yarrow deftly reached for Cale’s other sleeve, and quietly helped him with that one too. Cale expected that to be all; now that his hands were free, he could work on his collar himself, but no. Yarrow only hesitated a moment, before Cale had the chance to pull away, and then his hands were at Cale’s throat, gently undoing the bonds there.
Cale felt his pulse skip in his veins as Yarrow leaned closer. Again, his eyes were drawn to Yarrow’s face, the delicate tilt of his lips, the line of his jaw, the set of his cheekbones, how one stubborn strand of hair refused to stay out of his eyes–
Cale reached out to gently push it behind Yarrow’s ear, eyes ever on his face. As his hand lingered there, fingers slipping into Yarrow’s soft, red strands, caressing along the side of his head, Yarrow’s breath stuttered, ever so slightly, and his eyes lifted, catching Cale’s stormy-eyed gaze with his own.
For a moment, time ceased to function. Cale’s hand in Yarrow’s hair, Yarrow’s hands slowly flattening on Cale’s chest. Their eyes met and held, and for a moment it felt as if they were breathing as one.
Despite the peace in the moment, the sweet lingering, the soft touch of Yarrow’s hands on his chest, Cale’s heart was beating as if terrified. Perhaps he was. He held in his hand the single most precious thing he’d ever known, the light on his darkest day, the smile that had pulled him out of the river of his own self-loathing, and… he didn’t know what to do.
“Your heart is racing,” Yarrow breathed, whispered, so softly Cale could barely hear it.
“I’m alright,” Cale managed to answer, barely a whisper himself.
“Mine is racing too.” Yarrow’s smile had vanished, but it left his lips slightly parted, and his eyes slightly widened.
Gods he could get lost in those eyes forever. Part of him didn’t want to move, but part of him…
Part of him was afraid of how much he wanted Yarrow. Desperately. Hungrily.
“We… don’t have to… do anything, love.” Yarrow managed to breathe, even as his eyes broke from their joined gaze, fluttered about the neckline of Cale’s open shirt, slowly rose back to meet his gaze.
“I know,” Cale said, even as he drew nearer, fingers lost in Yarrow’s hair, gently moving about to the back of his head, carefully, cautiously coaxing Yarrow to him, as if seeking permission to continue.
Yarrow’s hands swept up to Cale’s shoulders, bare fingers glanced over exposed flesh, and Cale shivered. His breath caught in his throat as his desperation glinted need in the dark corners of himself, and whatever reflected in his eyes, gave Yarrow pause.
“I don’t… I don’t have to.”
Cale felt his smile, softening at the corners, filling with warmth, even as they were merely an inch apart. He whispered against Yarrow’s warm lips, a breath, a promise, “I want to. If you do, love.”
Yarrow made a sound, a soft, pleased sigh, that ended with a kiss. Cale pressed his lips to Yarrow’s and the same sound seemed to echo in his own chest with no place to escape. His skin lit with sparks as he tasted those lips, breathed in that hint of cloves and life and love.
Yarrow’s hands circled around Cale’s neck and pulled him closer, even as Cale’s other hand dropped to circle about Yarrow’s waist, a tangle of cautious, gentle affection, slowly strengthening to desire.
As Yarrow’s fingers tangled into Cale’s dark hair, Cale brushed the other man’s lips with his tongue, and they parted to welcome him, the kiss deepening, drawing cale in.
The next breath they took together found them closer than before, noses brushing, bodies tense as bowstrings twined together. Cale hoped he read that yearning in Yarrow’s eyes as a match for his own, did not dare question it, did not want to.
So he withdrew from the embrace, his stormy eyes holding Yarrow’s gaze as he tugged up the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. He dropped it on the floor, and reached out to delicately pull the hem of Yarrow’s shirt. As soon as it was untucked, Yarrow pressed his bottom lip between his teeth, arching up and back so that Cale could have an easier time of it.
He slid his hands beneath it, up under Yarrow’s shirt, pushing it up as he ran his hands up along Yarrow’s sides. Another sound, another sweet sigh escaped Yarrow’s lips, and Cale’s breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t stop. He wriggled Yarrow’s shirt free, and advanced, shifting on the end of the bed towards Yarrow, even as the other man scooted back, pressed himself into the bedsheets beneath him. When Cale was astride Yarrow, he bent, dropping his head down to kiss him once more, his dark curtain of hair slipping free to dance along Yarrow’s red locks, his slender chest, his pale arms.
He could have kissed Yarrow forever, tongues dancing as they had danced before, warmth breaths passing between them in shorter pants of desire.
Cale sucked in a surprised gasp, breaking the kiss only to impulsively arch his back as Yarrow’s hands danced up along his spine. Their bodies pressed together, and Gods it was glorious. They were both on fire, it seemed, it was a wonder they hadn’t lit the room aflame.
“Are you alright?” Yarrow murmured.
When Cale opened his eyes to look down at him, assurances already on his tongue, he smirked. Yarrow looked like a pleased cat, face framed by his hair, eyes dancing with mischief.
“More than,” Cale said, feeling a rough edge of desire slip into his words, his hips shifting forward slightly, pressing them both together just long and hard enough to bring a gasp from his partner.
Cale bent his head towards Yarrow’s neck as he tilted his head back to enjoy the sensation, eyes fluttered shut.
“Are you?” Cale teased, planting kisses along Yarrow’s exposed throat, feeling the heartbeat beneath Yarrow’s skin every time his lips pressed down.
“More than,” Yarrow responded, mirth thick with the desire in his voice.
He wants me, Cale thought, elated, wild, almost bewildered. Gods, he wants me just as much as I want him.
Cale breathed back up along Yarrow’s jaw, letting his partner’s sighs, and soft sounds fill his mind, stir the deeper recesses of him, ignite cold embers with a blazing fire.
Yarrow’s hands slid down Cale’s back again, and he let out his own sound, another short gasp of pleasure, but Yarrow’s hands didn’t stop there. His deft fingers slipped just past the band of his pants, and slid around his sides to the front.
Cale’s breath caught. For a moment he didn’t breathe, then he smiled, lifting up on his arms to tit his head at Yarrow.
Yarrow bit his bottom lip again, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners, even as he began to undo the strings that kept Cale’s pants where they were.
Two could play that game. Cale settled back on his knees, still astride Yarrow as he looked down at him. Let Yarrow fiddle with that a moment; Cale wanted to see him.
Yarrow was beautiful. Cale hadn’t seen anything so beautiful in his life; the lines of his body were smooth, interrupted only by the scars of injuries Cale had helped tend. Cale gently ran his fingers down the scars the wolves had left behind, turning from that path to dip lower, past his ribs, past his midriff, to the hem of Yarrow’s pants.
Yarrow’s back arched as he did so, his skin tilting up to meet Cale’s curious fingers, his head tilting back to sigh at the ceiling as Cale began to undo the laces.
When Yarrow began to tug at Cale’s pants, he relented, reaching to finish disrobing on his own, but as he withdrew, Yarrow pushed himself up, caught Cale’s face in his hands and kissed him again.
And when he broke that kiss, Yarrow turned the tables. He swept his leg out and pushed Cale down into the bedsheets, and then HE was the one trapped between Yarrow’s knees, fiery kisses burning down the side of his face, his neck, his collar bone.
Sparks flew in Cale’s vision as he breathed, dizzy with the scent of cloves.
“Gods, Cale,” Yarrow breathed, kisses going lower, dancing across the crosshatched scars that dominated Cale’s chest, each one sending sparks and whirls into his vision. “You are a marvel.”
Cale didn’t have the words. His hands were dug into the bedsheets, afraid he would pull Yarrow right back up to kiss him, turn him over, rise above him again, but…
But he trusted Yarrow. Wanted him. Wanted him so badly it burned in his soul.
The kisses stopped around Cale’s navel, and he opened his eyes, rising up onto his elbows, as Yarrow swept neatly off the bed.
Bewilderment only lasted a moment as Cale saw Yarrow struggle out of his pants, and he hurried to do the same. Their uncooperative garments were tossed away, and Cale reached out for Yarrow once more, sat up to take him into his arms, revel in the heat between them.
They pressed against each other, Yarrow on his knees, Cale’s waist between his thighs, Cale burning kisses into Yarrow’s neck.
“Lay down, love,” Yarrow whispered in his ear, caught him in a kiss before he could comply.
Such sweetness there. His heart ached with it, even as he held Yarrow to him a moment before catching his breath.
He did not answer. Cale simply smiled and obeyed. He let himself fall back into the bedsheets, half lidded eyes watching this beautiful creature sweep his hair over his shoulder, and bend to plant more kisses across Cale’s chest.
He could feel his heart pounding with every press of Yarrow’s lips on his bare skin, though he tried to calm his breathing. “Yarrow–”
His voice caught at the end of his partner’s name as Yarrow’s hand dance along, down his side, along the valley of his hip, further down to caress an aching need.
“Cale,” Yarrow said, spoken more like a dream, not a question, like praise from his lips.
Cale looked down at him, poised and beautiful, that hint of a smile still on his face.
“Are you — are you sure?”
He hated that he sounded pleading, but he couldn’t stop it. Yarrow did not chide him. He did not tsk or groan or explain. His smile simply softened, brown eyes glowing with what Cale dared call love.
“Yes, love.” Yarrow purred.
Cale’s head dropped back with a shuddering gasp as Yarrow’s lips pressed down on him, the soft warmth sending tremors along his skin as those kisses deepened, and deepened, and Cale’s hands tightened in the bedsheets.
Every muscle in Cale’s body screamed and sighed in unison. The way Yarrow touched him — he’d never felt the like before, the gentleness, the sweetness, but coupled with this searing passion; he could feel that part of Yarrow in the way one hand swept beneath his buttock, grabbed hold there, urged Cale’s reactions with every breath and touch and flick of his wicked tongue.
“–Yarrow–” Cale gasped, voice rough, breaths shaking as they emerged. “–w-wait, please, wait–”
Yarrow’s hands relaxed, and he withdrew. Cool fingers slid up Cale’s rigid abdomen, up his chest, to rest there. Cale could feel the ends of his hair brush against his hips as he lifted his head.
“Yes, love? Are you alright?”
Cale’s heart could have broken right there. He pushed himself up to his elbows, steadying his breathing, opened his eyes to gaze at Yarrow.
He knew how he must look; Ravenous. Yarrow, for a moment, looked surprised, and then he smiled. Even as Cale reached for him, Yarrow climbed up to meet him. Their lips met in a crash, their hands in a frenzy between them.
Cale wanted to memorize every curve, every line, every sinew and muscle that made Yarrow’s body. He let his hands slide around behind his partner, down the arrow of his back, caress his firm behind and pull him closer. Yarrow’s hands tangled in Cale’s hair as their mouths came together again and again, desperately drinking each other in, finding air only when their eyes began to swim.
“Gods, Cale, I could kiss you forever,” Yarrow breathed, his lips at Cale’s ear, Cale’s face pressed into the crook of his neck, their chests pressed together, their hips moving, slightly, with the waves of their desire, unbidden by either of them.
Cale reached up to comb through Yarrow’s hair. He lifted his face, brushed a sweet kiss along Yarrow’s jaw, whispered words he’d longed to say to his partner for months.
“Let me please you.”
Yarrow let his head roll back. Cale persisted, tasting the glistening skin at his throat. “Yes, Cale, Gods yes.”
Carefully, lovingly, Cale shifted, one arm wrapped protectively around Yarrow’s waist as the other supported them. He lay Yarrow back down on the bedsheets and held a kiss at his lips while he freed a hand to roam. His fingers were not as fine as Yarrow’s, a bladesman’s fingers, but he could feel the warmth radiating off of his lover, feel the gooseflesh as he traced his fingers down Yarrow’s chest and down those scars. He pressed his lips to Yarrow’s throat as his hand dipped lower, felt the flickering pace of Yarrow’s heartbeat as he gently stroked Yarrow’s length, savoring each gasp, each sweet sigh as they came from Yarrow’s lips.
Yarrow held tightly to Cale with one arm, wrapped around his back, fingers pressing into his skin. His other hand traced circles along Cale’s arm, teased the muscles there, sketched loving symbols into Cale’s delicate sheen of sweat as he took Yarrow in hand.
Cale could feel his own body reacting to Yarrow’s quickened breaths. “Cale — Gods I love your hands –”
He smiled, nipped at Yarrow’s throat, traced his tongue to Yarrow’s ear and kissed along the fine point of it. Yarrow turned his head to catch Cale’s lips and shuddered with pleasure as Cale’s pace quickened, firm and urging.
Yarrow broke the kiss with a hitch of breath, and his playful hand came to Cale’s chest, flattening there, his eyes opening, half lidded, seeking Cale’s eyes.
“Are you alright?” Cale whispered, catching them.
Yarrow nodded, a flash of a smile before he arched his back, bit his lip. “Gods I — I can’t keep this up, Cale — Cale, I want you.”
Cale let out a sound, a wildly unintentional sound, nearly a whimper of pleasure at hearing those words, a gasp and a sigh put together with a sharpened breath. “Gods Yarrow, I’ve wanted you for ages.”
Yarrow’s hand dropped to Cale’s as he worked the length of his partner, and Cale paused.
“Then you’ll have me, love,” Yarrow whispered.
Yarrow carefully took Cale’s hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed his knuckles. “Lay down, Cale.”
They twisted about, the bedsheets succumbing to their whimsical desires, knotting around them. Cale’s breath caught as Yarrow rose above him, glorious, beautiful, everything.
He had no words.
Yarrow swung a leg over Cale, slid his body down and pressed them together, shifted his hips and they both gasped in unison as their lengths slid together, both of them so deliriously close, and Yarrow whispered, framed by that red hair, “Please, Cale.”
The please urged fire from him, and he showed it with his next kiss, both hands in Yarrow’s hair, as desperate as a plea, as fervent as a prayer, as genuine as gratitude as he raised his hips against Yarrow. Yarrow moaned into Cale’s mouth and Cale shuddered, the kiss broken, even as Yarrow’s hands drifted down to touch him again.
Yarrow paused as he held Cale in his hand, lifted himself up, tilted his hips forwards and pulled away. Cale’s hands brushed the sides of Yarrow’s face with such care, thumbs tracing those delicate markings. Cake realized Yarrow was hesitating, but it was with a gentle inquiry in his eyes, asking him for permission.
Cale swallowed, smiled, nodded.
Slowly, achingly slowly, Yarrow lowered himself onto Cale. He was a vision, head tilted back, eyes closed in concentration, legs parted around Cale. His muscles shivered above Cale, and he reached out to touch Yarrow, run his fingers along the shining lines, gently glistening with the sweat from their passionate encounter.
As Cale entered him, his hands went to Yarrow’s thighs, his head dropped back, his breath rasped. “Yarrow–” Another prayer, he didn’t know what he wanted, what to say or how to say it, he just needed more. More of him.
Yarrow took all of him with care, his own breaths measured and steady as he settled down. Gods, Cale could feel Yarrow wrapped around him, reveled in it as they remained engulfed in each other. Cale swallowed, breathed, calmed, tried to clear his head–
Then Yarrow began to move. Cale’s back arched without his permission, a bow being drawn to fire, as Yarrow rose in aching slowness and descended just as purposefully.
Cale could barely put a thought together, but he had one. His hands drifted from Yarrow’s thighs to where they joined, and as his partner moved along his desperate length, he moved his hands along Yarrow’s. The shudder that raced through Yarrow raced right through him, and he felt the moan before it emerged.
“You’re beautiful, Cale,” Yarrow gasped.
Cale opened his eyes to see Yarrow’s back arching, his hair tumbling past his shoulders, his chest rising and falling with his own desperate breaths. He did not stop Cake, but he did look at him, golden brown eyes meeting stormy gray.
So many things unsaid between them culminating in their every touch, their every movement.
It was almost too much to bear.
“Yarrow –” His breath caught in a gasp, “– Yarrow, please, I –”
Yarrow’s length was silken with need, and every stroke sent shivers through them both. Yarrow’s tight body pulled at Cale, taking him all and releasing with every slide of his hips, lift of his pelvis, moan from deep in his chest. They moved together achingly slow at first, drawing out every unsaid devotion with painstaking attention.
Cale trembled, his hands slick along Yarrow’s warm flesh, coaxing every pearlescent bead that came from it, massaging it back down along the length like prayer oil on a blade, but with such tenderness, such need. He could feel Yarrow’s muscles ringing, tightening with need, feel it in the muscles that tightened around him, and he let his head fall back again.
“Cale — I — Oh gods, don’t stop–”
Yarrow’s hips picked up a rhythm, and Cale matched it, stroke for stroke, pulse for pulse, their gasps turned into cries, each one moaning out the others name until they became unintelligible.
“Yes, Yarrow, yes–” Cale felt it, like a wave approaching the shore, in every fiber of his being. His hands quickened, firmly pulling and sliding along Yarrow’s beautiful cock, sending shockwave after shockwave through his lover until Yarrow’s head threw back too, a wordless moan of pleasure slipping from his perfect lips.
Cale’s eyes swam as he burst, a last feverish plunge into Yarrow, the sounds of their lovemaking dimmed by the roaring in his ears, the sound of Yarrow’s frantic breathing, his own heartbeat.
A moment frozen in time, the quaking that followed, Cale’s hands loosening, soothing, releasing. Sliding up along Yarrow’s side as he shivered, and then pulling him towards him.
A gasp as Cale came free, and the dizzying aftermath as he held his arms out to the man he loved.
Yarrow pressed himself against Cale and kissed him.
Effortlessly sweet. Lips to lips, soul to soul. They lingered in that kiss for an eternity.