As Jesper coaxes him through his orgasm, his hips fall to little twitching thrusts, then stutter to stillness altogether. Wilhelm puddles into the mattress, sweaty and flushed and breathless. Like stardust drifting after everything else has burned away, he comes back down to himself. But it's a softer version, all those sharp and hard things still scattered far away.

He wants to say something clever or charming or cool to answer Jesper, but his thoughts carry all the substance of sea foam right now. In the absence of words, he curls into Jesper. His body, sensitive in the afterglow, feels naked not because his clothes lie in a pile on the floor, but because his skin misses touch. He traces Jesper's lips as his fingertips are crowned with kisses. Somehow, this feels intimate in a way that had no chance to sink in with Jesper's mouth on his dick, and for a second Wilhelm has to look away.

He occupies himself with combing through the mess he's made of Jesper's hair, trying to return him to a presentable state. His fingers flutter down the side of Jesper's neck. Remembering all of a sudden how...ardent he'd gotten, he chews on his lip.

"Sorry..."

His gaze drifts down Jesper's long, lean torso, dipping low. Still half-dressed, he's straining at his trousers. Wilhelm lifts a questioning look to him.