It was a lingering, slow moment. Caleb focused on this instead of the low but persistent, buzzing pain. To touch, to relinquish himself to this and not have it wrested away in short order. The kiss in the bath had been surprising but short lived. This lived on with every shivering little breath, every infinitesimal shift of their fingers as they stayed locked together like this.

Trust. Trust and becoming more than what they were, what they had been.

Anyone could have come from home, but nobody else could have been here. Caleb knew that.

He had so many questions. Instead, he focused on the tender warmth of their bodies neatly filling the bed, their knees touching, their bodies intimately close, the kiss never quite broken as he traced his fingers up into Essek's pale hair.