#duceus

Caduceus had to bend himself over as his mouth was claimed in a kiss, hands bracing themselves against the wall behind the wizard that had grabbed him. A soft sound escaped his throat, something akin to surprise and pleasure twining together as he reciprocated. His lips parted, a slow breath pressing out from his lungs. One hand slipped down from the wall, pulling Caleb’s waist closer to his body. Then, he pulled back, forehead pressing to Caleb’s.

“Are you sure about this?”

The craning of his neck was almost unbearable despite Caduceus' best attempts at bridging the distance of nearly two feet. An unbidden thought suggested that this wouldn't be nearly as big of an issue if they were lying down. Warmth poured into him from his front, cradled as it was against Caduceus' own stomach and chest, and from his back, where a large, solid arm was wrapped around his waist. Tremors of lightening climbed up his spine at this contact, only heating him further.

random ones // @duceus

NSFW Headcanons ;;

     Three days. Three days since he woke up alone, coughing dirt and blood, tearing through his tapestry as it threatened to keep him there. Three days he dragged himself onward, held up by the wooden pole where hung his many-colored coat. He remembered that coat. He remembered his name. The letter told him, but he remembered. The letter told him to find the Gentleman, but that wasn’t the way he would head. He had to find them.

     But he couldn’t let their enemies find him. Alone, he’d be dead. Lorenzo would no doubt make certain he stayed dead this time. He also couldn’t let the others find him just yet. They needed to keep hidden among the denizens of the Run, and he would be a beacon walking with them. He caught sight of the horses by an inn, so at least they had made it. That he could be content with.

     Three days. Three days without a meal. Nothing but mere handfuls of water when he could find it. Blindly, he brought himself around the border of Shady Creek Run, and kept to the trees as much as he could. The forest was thick. Twisting. He had no idea where he was, but he was willed onward. Onward. 

     Onward, through twisting vines and thorns that caught on his magnificent coat. It was dark. Cold. It felt as if the grip of death had caught up to him once more, and he pulled away with the last of his strength. Leaving the coat caught in the vines, he stumbled forward. His walking stick snapped, and he landed face-down in a patch of vibrant flowers beside a grave stone. Delirious, he thought the name on it was his own.