As Jesper finishes stripping, Wilhelm indulges his gaze in the lean lines and hard angles of his body, all that beautiful brown skin that now lies bare. Then his hands join in. One curls around Jesper's cock, stroking him languidly. The other spreads over his chest, tracing muscle and heartbeat. The urgency that wound him tight just minutes ago has melted away — he wades into Jesper as one would a pool, letting the water surround him by slow degrees.

"Only because you asked so nicely," he mumbles. The curling of his lips gives away the joke. His eyes skate up to Jesper's, then back down his body, following the meandering path of his own hand.

Leaning into Jesper, he nudges him flat onto his back, so that he can use his shoulder as a pillow. Craving closeness, he tangles their legs together. For a long moment, Wilhelm just watches himself stroke Jesper. Watches every little shift of his hips, the veins twitching beneath his skin. Watches the glossy bead of precum gathering at his prettily flushed head and smears it around with his thumb. This is still new to him, learning another's body, mapping out all its pleasures. Finally, he cranes his neck to smudge kisses along Jesper's jawline. Finds his lips, which — he realizes as he runs his tongue along their seam — taste of himself.

It's nice here. Warm and soft and quiet. Reluctant to return to the jagged white noise of the real world, Wilhelm chooses to linger here for as long as he can.