WHO Caleb & Essek WHERE Geliara in Essek’s office/classroom. WHEN April 27th, afternoon. WHAT Wizards have a little argument because Caleb is definitely Projecting his own issues post finding out about Magical Fight Club and having a run in with a jerk professor. Whoops. STATUS Complete! WARNINGS Heavy disassociation, references to childhood abuse/brainwashing. And just being a butthead to your boyfriend (don’t do that).
It was probably a good thing that the puppet fiasco was done. That kept Caleb’s emotions in check, but also prevented him from ending up as a stuffed felted Wizard on the middle of his desk as the focus of his anger stalked out of his office.
He had never gotten along with the Vorerra-aligned Professor, but had avoided him, for the most part. It wasn’t quite to the level of Trent Ikithon (really, very little was) and Caleb had simply summed it up to two completely different types of teaching styles.
But now-- he was angry. The students fighting in a Fight Club wasn’t wholly a surprise, teenagers tended to do idiotic things like that enough and even the adults had their own version here of the punching variety. It was a situation that could be worrying, especially as one of his own students had been implicated, with one teacher in particular supporting his own students against Nick.
That very professor had just left Caleb’s office, smug and so sure of himself. Caleb had been questioning and nosy, wondering exactly why one student had been the one implicated but not the rest. He wasn’t one to listen to gossip, but when Caleb had heard the professor might be one of the ones helping keep things secret and under wraps for weeks now, or even egging on his own coven to fight harder, dirtier-- well, that was when he got involved.
And he had been waved off, the Professor so righteously sure of his own family, the students from his coven specifically, that he was clearly unconcerned with throwing other students under the dragon.
The only students left for the day were at their extracurriculars, which left Caleb’s office empty, and he knew Essek was alone. He entered without knocking, closing the door behind him with a firm hold, less soft than on a regular basis. “How much did you know of the fight club that was happening? The one we were briefed on this morning?”
Essek was elbows deep into reading through a pile of assignments for his Chronurgy students when his office door swung open. He wasn't entirely surprised when he lifted his gaze from a particularly meandering explanation weaving the essence of time magic with the physics of spacetime to see Caleb there; no one else in the school would have the courage, or permission, needed to just burst into his office.
At least, that would have been the case for the Shadowhand. Essek wasn't too upset that Professor Thelyss struck less fear into the hearts of others than his previous title had.
Regardless, the interruption was welcome -- he was always happy to see Caleb, after all -- though Essek's brow furrowed at the immediate question. He hadn't been surprised to finally have the fight club be addressed as it had that morning, having assumed that the issue would be resolved by those with more authority than him with time, though it was starting to dawn on him that perhaps his partner had been surprised.
"I had heard rumor of it," Essek admitted, setting his pen down and sitting back in his chair to peer openly at Caleb. "You hadn't?"
Caleb was glad there was space in front of him to pace. He was already rubbing his thumb with his forefinger, fidgeting - he fidgeted often, that part was not new. When he was thinking too much, or researching a spell, or studying magic. When he was stressed or working, without thought. His knee jumped, his pen tapping against the desk. For now, he paced.
“Nein,” He stopped in the middle, to look at Essek, eyebrows furrowed. “One of my students was one of the ones blamed for it. He-” Caleb pursed his lips for a second in annoyance again before continuing on. “I think Professor-- What is his name? Cheaud? I dislike him. But I believe he may have been involved in some way. Do you speak with him often?” Caleb probably should have known this, paid better attention, but he did try to keep things as professional as possible at the school.
He often failed, but that wasn’t the point.
Essek knew exactly who Caleb was talking about and a brief flash of annoyance hit him. He also didn't like that particular professor, but disliking colleagues was not an altogether odd feeling for him; it had been, after all, more or less how he had spent his days at court in Rosohna. But it had been at that court where he'd learned that disliking someone didn't mean they couldn't be of use. He had gotten better at distancing himself from his more Shadowhand way of thinking when it came to those that surrounded him, but sometimes it could leak out -- and that had been the case with this man.
"Not if I am able help it," Essek replied, "but unfortunately I can't always help it. Though, you know that the number of people I will willingly engage in conversation with is numbered." A slight exaggeration, but not entirely untrue.
He kept his gaze on Caleb, concerned. Essek had turned into that damnable pillow not so long ago because he'd been eavesdropping on the wrong conversation that involved that man, so having him come up again in regards to Caleb was worrisome. He sat up a bit as he continued, "I overhear things he says, more often than not. He seems to like the sound of his voice."
Caleb made a noise of agreement, they both had that in common - not engaging heavily in conversation outside people they were comfortable with. Caleb reached out more often than not when it came to magic users, the theory of magic often winning out over the need to be a hermit. The Mighty Nein had been wonders for him in that regard.
But he was still slow to trust, and he could feel the paranoia creeping into his shoulders. He tried to avoid it, to stem it off, to not immediately jump into a dissociative state. It was progress, ultimately, but made him feel heavy. He couldn’t meet Essek’s gaze.
“Did you overhear anything about the club, beforehand? His involvement, or-- perhaps anything involving how his own coven’s students were in it? I am not wishing to implicate children--” Caleb rushed the last part out as soon as he had gone down that path. “Just-- merely looking at the professor and his um-- teaching methods.”
Essek hesitated before answering, his eyes unwavering on Caleb despite that the other man was avoiding doing the same. Though there were some social graces that Essek still struggled with, reading people -- especially his loved ones, Caleb chief among that group -- was a talent he had honed as Shadowhand. He didn't need those gifts to know Caleb was upset, of course, but he took a moment to consider it, consider the answers to Caleb's questions, and then suppressed a sigh.
Getting to his feet, Essek moved around his desk so he was on the same side of it as Caleb, sitting on the edge. It felt strange to have a conversation like this with him, Essek seated and with the desk between them; this was his partner, not a student trying to give their case on why Essek ought to extend a deadline or give them extra credit.
"I knew it was happening," Essek admitted, arms crossing low in front of his torso as he spoke. "I thought little of it, in truth, and assumed it was just kids being kids. I know that the Vorerra students were particularly... enthusiastic. Perhaps his involvement or permission was inspiring that."
That was better. The conversation wasn’t, Caleb’s brow was still furrowed annoyingly, causing a little crease to form above his eyes. But the posture, Essek ending on a more even playing field with him. That was better.
He also knew he gave his partner a chance to lie, and Essek didn’t take it. That was also better.
But it didn’t stop him from overreacting immediately, annoyance flushing up over his neck. “Kids being kids.” He said the words carefully, one at a time, almost sounding them out while he simmered on the whole thing. “And if he had been forcing them to participate? Is it no big deal then? When they could potentially kill each other for the sake of enthusiasm?”
It was unfair, the projection Caleb shot across from him, but that didn’t stop him from saying the words regardless.
Once upon a time, Essek had been very good at schooling his features and hiding his true emotions or thoughts; it had been a learned trait over a century of life, then downright necessary for survival due to his choices. It wasn't something he had forgotten how to do entirely, but it had been stripped down with time, as he leaned into the honesty he knew his friends deserved. That was how he let his eyebrows lift in a mixture of surprise and confusion, then brought his arms a bit tighter to his chest, as though that might shield him from whatever was happening here. For the first time in a long while, he missed the shelter of his cloak that he wore back home.
Essek opened his mouth, then immediately closed it, considering. He felt himself stepping into as of yet unexplored relationship territory and it took more effort than he cared to admit not to just teleport away from the conversation. He had navigated troublesome feelings with Caleb before, but this felt different and Essek felt out of his depth. From those words alone, he felt he had a good idea where Caleb was coming from. Essek knew Caleb's history, he knew why he was paranoid and wary to trust teachers, and he knew that it was all incredibly well founded.
But Essek had also spent more than enough time, especially since he found out just what had happened to Caleb in his youth, comparing himself to his Cerberus Assembly co-conspirators to not think of it now, however unintentional it might have been.
"I did not say that," Essek replied quietly, a firmer edge to his tone than he had meant. His posture straightened just a bit, though he stayed leaning against his desk. "Obviously that is an issue, if he was forcing them. I just don't know enough to be able to confirm if that is the case."
Where Essek could look calm and cool, Caleb twitched and paced. He looked frustrated, annoyed, his hair wild and his scarf starting to trail. He was the picture of a man that looked just a little manic, his usually controlled-chaos starting to unravel along the floor as if it was made of the same yarn that was wrapped loosely around his neck.
To him, Essek clearly didn’t understand. He couldn’t, of course. It was a childish thought, and an annoying one, but Caleb was feeling childish, annoyance and hurt directed at a man not here clouding his better judgement. Even if he still didn’t like the cut of Cheaud’s jib.
Caleb’s arms folded over themselves and his fingers absently rubbed over the cloth on his arm. Over the scars there. “”Is that to be how you are here, too? A neutral party, uninvolved and unaffiliated? Waiting for things to play out as they do?” It was hurtful, but Caleb was lashing out at the chance to make Essek hurt just a little, as he did. “I will find out, then.”
Essek knew Caleb and he could see him quickly unraveling before him. His instinct was to do something; this was the man that he loved, who had seen him at his lowest and had offered him a second chance, the only person that he'd let truly see him, inside and out.
Which was why, he supposed, Caleb's words stung as harshly as they did. Essek wanted so desperately to be rational in the moment. He knew that Caleb was upset and that he was convenient to take those feelings out on, both in physical proximity and by way of their relationship. He knew that there was a very real chance that eventually, once Caleb had a chance to calm down, he would regret the way this conversation was going.
But none of that rationale was doing much to sooth this particular hurt. Essek's insecurities and guilt over his past actions had never gone away entirely in Vallo, but they had lessened as he used his second chance to try and do and be better. Hearing Caleb reference home and question his growth hurt, but Essek also knew it was nothing that he didn't deserve. If anything, it was long overdue.
Essek's eyes dropped away from Caleb, a muscle in his jaw working as he clenched once and found a spot on the floor to stare at. "I apologize," he said, voice still quiet and chilled. "I didn't realize that my loyalties and intentions were something that could still be so easily questioned."
The air around them was tense, more tense than it had been in months. A year. Essek’s insecurities and guilt clashing with Caleb’s trauma, in a perfect storm of overreaction and unapologetic behavior. It should've made him back down.
But it didn’t. It made Caleb’s shoulders square defiantly, and instead of apologizing his mouth opened, and then closed again.
He hadn’t wanted to start a fight, but here they were, in the midst of their first one since they had become lovers. Lovers in every meaning of the word, there was love, Caleb knew it, had said it, had shared it. He didn’t know how long he would have with Essek but he wanted as much has he was given.
But now his bullheadedness was winning out, and instead of that love, he snapped bitterly. “I did not realize that either. We are both learning things today.” He sucked in a breath, partly at himself, but looked to the door anyway.
Apparently they were, Essek thought to himself. He could feel the way the heat of shame and anger was rising up his neck and face, likely tinting his skin an even deeper purple as he kept his eyes locked on a crack in the floor of his office. The anger wasn't even necessarily directed toward Caleb, at least not in its entirety; once upon a time, he had been in control of his feelings, his mask immovable, even under the scrutiny of a court wherein he had committed treason against. Now, he was struggling before this human.
Not that he was any human, of course. Essek could never think of Caleb just a human. He was much more than that, even without his feelings. But his feelings were there. Caleb's faith and trust had been a major catalyst in Essek thinking he could actually be a better man than he was -- and hearing it questioned by the very person that had launched him toward this path of redemption, even if Caleb might not have entirely meant it? It left him dangerously close to questioning what he was even doing, the only tether being that Essek genuinely liked the person he was now versus who he had been in Exandria.
Swallowing hard, Essek closed his eyes for a brief second, schooling himself before he looked back up toward Caleb. Seeing where the other man's gaze was, Essek released a short breath before he lifted a hand, pulling the door open from where he stood by thought and magic alone. "I will see you at home, Caleb."
For the briefest of seconds, Caleb didn’t realize it was Essek that had waved the door open, and not Caleb under his feral stare. Now he saw it, and he saw he was being dismissed. He slumped, slightly. But annoyance was still coursing through him just enough to not apologize on the spot, and Caleb nodded stiffly, disassociating already from the situation itself. “Ja.”
That was it. Maybe it was magic that carried him to the door, because he didn’t remember moving his feet until he was outside the office, door closing behind him with a harder slam than he had remembered pulling at it.