Those eyes, molten and mischievous, belong to someone who knows what he's doing. They press into Wilhelm, gaze as weighted as touch. Under their watch, he burns hotter, faster, melting in the unrelenting heat of Jesper's mouth.

When he thinks that this pleasure can't crest any sharper, can't inundate him any deeper, Jesper pulls him there. Fast and feverish up and down his spit-slick shaft, he pumps the breath right out of him. When he scoops up Wilhelm's ass, pulling him into his mouth with the inescapable force of a planet's gravity, Wilhelm digs his heels into the bed and throws his hips forward. And when Jesper swallows him whole, the circle of his lips cinching the base of Wilhelm's cock, the back of his throat molding around his tip, the soft heat of his cheeks squeezing his every haphazard thrust—

Oh. His head spins into outer space. He forgets how to speak. How to breathe. Realizing that the moan crashing around him is his own, he clamps a hand to his mouth.

Fucking into the reverberations of Jesper's moaning, fingers twisting hard in his hair, Wilhelm comes. Jesper will feel it warm in his throat, tangy on his tongue. On his own tongue there's nothing coherent, just a tangled string of whimpers.