Wilhelm is still in that state of heartbreak where he thinks he'll always compare everyone he kisses to Simon, and autumn will always be an ache because falling leaves remind him of falling in love. He still has to keep up the caution tape in his mind to keep himself from trespassing into memories of him. But Jesper, warm and so sure of himself that it's infectious, is easy to sink into. As their lips move together and Jesper's fingers weave in his hair, Wilhelm lets everything else shrink away. He lets himself be suspended in now.
There's a moment, in that initial break, where his eyes flutter open and he's almost thrown off by the not-yet-familiar landscape of Jesper's face. Just as fast, he dives back in. His fingers trail down the side of Jesper's neck, trace his shirt collar and buttons. His lips part for him, welcoming the warm glide of his tongue, goading him with a flick of his own. A soft sigh curls in the back of his throat.
Funny, how even ten minutes ago he couldn't have predicted that this was where the day would lead him.
Jesper felt like that in the start, although it was easier because the lovers he took were so vastly different from Wylan. Mat is far more like him, Rhy reminds him of Nina, and while Wilhelm does remind him of Wylan a great deal, he's known him long enough to separate the two easily. When he kisses Wilhelm, he isn't thinking about anyone else but him, although he also is pretty easy-going about being a warm body when someone is in need. At times, that's all he needs himself.
Jesper likes the touch of Wilhelm's fingers against his skin, his sweet lips, the eager way he invites him into his mouth. And Jesper doesn't hesitate to deepen the kiss, to expertly explore him, his free hand dropping down to his knee, caressing a thumb against his lower thigh comfortably. He keeps kissing him until they're both out of breath and when he comes up for air, his lips just travel across Wilhelm's cheek. His hand in Wilhelm's hair tilts his head to the side and he kisses his neck gently.
He realizes where they are though and only then does he lift his head, gray eyes soft and bright. "There's a room over there." He nods his head toward Kaz's room, which is currently empty, and he will just have to gamble on it continuing to be. "Just to be clear, I'm happy to kiss you, love, but anyone can walk in on us here looking for me." Jesper is popular, there's a high chance of that.
He smirks though. "Unless you like that sort of thing." Hey, some people are into being watched. He doesn't judge.
With Simon, they'd stumbled through all of this for the first time together. It was a sort of unchartered territory they were trying to map, and he'd loved every second of it, every little discovery. But those stubborn memories make it that much more obvious that Jesper knows exactly what he's doing. His tongue slipping into his mouth smooth as silk, thumb soothing the hinge of his thigh, loosening him; his hand directing the angle of his head to expose the slope of his neck, lips melting against the skin there. Wilhelm gets lost in it.
By the time Jesper pulls away, he's half-forgotten how to speak. He tinges pink as he realizes that the room, although empty at the moment, isn't exactly private. Of course Mr. Popularity over here must receive visitors all the time.
"No," he answers emphatically, poking Jesper's chest with both pointer fingers. That's for the exhibitionism comment, of course. Wilhelm can honestly think of next to nothing that's less appealing. His gaze flicks to the room Jesper indicated, and his lips curl into a shy grin. "Yeah, let's...let's do that."
Standing, he remembers the drink he never tried. Might as well take a sip now — it's not that he has any doubts to chase away, but a little extra confidence never hurts.
Jesper does have visitors regularly, he is friendly and outgoing and the Crow Club can be entertaining for new people. He also goes out and about and sees other people. This is also the space that Kaz and Inej are often in, so there's that. He laughs when Wilhelm pokes him in the chest, he would have been shocked if Wilhelm was into that honestly, but he is being playful.
He waits for Wilhelm to take a bit of liquid courage. The drink is heavy but also tastes good, he made sure to get something he thought Wilhelm would like. He's a good host! He was just more focused on kissing him than drinking. Jesper smiles and curls his fingers in the front of Wilhelm's shirt, dragging him in the direction of Kaz's room. It's a simple and dark room and Jesper wisely creates a little sign for the door. Busy, go away it says, with a little smiley face on it. If Kaz sees it and yells at him later, oh well. It wouldn't be the first time.
Jesper pulls Wilhelm toward him the moment the door is closed. If it was anyone else he might be a little more aggressive, but he is still being gentle with this sweet boy, and sometimes that is exactly what he wants. Jesper is almost half a foot taller than Wilhelm so when he sits on the side of the bed and tugs him closer, it makes them more on the same level.
"You are in so much trouble, I can't believe you didn't come onto me at the party, I could have snuck us behind a tree to kiss." Jesper's being playful and he leans up to kiss him again, smiling against his lips.
The bourbon burns down his throat, slowly blurs his edges. He supposes he lets it — everything in the Horizon is a state of mind. It would be nice if everything could be less sharp. Happy to let Jesper take the lead, Wilhelm lets himself get pulled along, fixing his hair with a quick pass of his hand. The sign that appears on the door as they push past it gets a laugh out of him. Nice touch.
Now, when Jesper said room, he assumed he meant a storage room, or a parlor, or something like that. The bed — which immediately draws his attention, due as much to its prominent position as to the proclivities of the teenage mind — is a surprise. But not a deal-breaker for this little rendezvous. His gaze settles warmly on Jesper, who's shorter than him now that he's seated. Corralled between his knees, Wilhelm find balance by holding onto his shoulders. The kiss relaxes him, burying his busy mind in sweet nothingness.
"I..." His eyes slide sheepishly aside as he flounders for something to say that isn't about missing somebody else. "...Just thought you had plenty of other people to kiss."
Realizing how that might sound, he cringes. Compensates with a little laugh.
Jesper knows that bringing him to the bedroom can be suggestive although he trusts that he's been clear he has no intention of being pushy. He likes Wilhelm and they're both looking for a nice distraction, it is as simple as they want it to be. Kissing and flirting are wonderful things. He laughs when Wilhelm looks like he's suggesting something insulting about his many partner options because Jesper has no shame and it's sweet Wilhelm doesn't want to offend him. One hand settles on the small of Wilhelm's back and the other is long enough to curl to the back of his neck. Both keeping him close and in kissing mode.
"And yet you're the one I ended up on a date with that night. Which I don't regret. I like being around you, Wilhelm."
In their time together, Jesper has always teased him with endearments or with his pigeon nickname, but now he says his name like a caress. They're kissing, it is only fitting he actually use it for once. And it's an acknowledgement that they more or less were on a date that night, even if neither of them put it into words at the time. And Jesper still thought he might have been straight at that point. Not that it would stop him. He took advantage of any sign of flirting quickly after all.
Jesper cups his face, brushing his thumb along his cheekbone, gazing up at Wilhelm. He usually can only do so at an angle like this with most people, so it's rather nice. He runs a tongue over his lips, smirking.
Jesper's hands, cradling the small of his back and the back of his neck, draw his attention closer. Gently pry him from the tight crush of everything that's made it hard to get out of bed lately. It's a simple thing, being touched, and right now simplicity is exactly what Wilhelm needs. He can almost ignore the quiet ache that wishes it were someone else's hands on him, someone else's lips seeking his.
As Jesper dubs the evening they'd spent together at the party a date, soft surprise stumbles across his expression, settling into a shy smile. His name sounds good on Jesper's tongue. Though he knows the other boy has probably pronounced dozens of names with the same golden warmth, he doesn't doubt that it's genuine. Having lived in the upper class world of facades and flattery, Wilhelm has a sense for these things.
"You can call me Wille," he breathes.
Except he doesn't give Jesper a chance to try out the nickname, as he tilts into another kiss. Apparently answering his challenge — make it up to me then — he doesn't waste much time on chasteness. His tongue slides across Jesper's lower lip; he tries a playful nip. His hands go from tracing gentle patterns into Jesper's shoulders and down the front of his shirt, to nudging at him to scoot back so that he can settle into his lap, knees bracketing thighs to slot them closer together.
Jesper always means it. He is a very genuine person. He might get around a lot, but he's never callous about it, he likes people, and people like him. He chases sensation wherever he can get it, and lust has always been the safest of his greater impulses. Gambling and adrenaline give him a rush like nothing else, but this warm flush between them and the taste of Wilhelm on his lips can feed that part of him. Perhaps months ago he might have compared Wilhelm to Wylan, it would have been easy, they have some superficial qualities in common. But now Jesper's just here for him and the distraction they can give each other.
He notes the nickname and is about to repeat it when Wilhelm instead steals his breath away entirely. Jesper makes a pleased noise at the nip and kisses him deeply, leaning back to let Wilhelm settle onto his lap. He is slightly surprised by the forwardness but in the best possible way. Maybe he doesn't have to be so careful after all. Jesper puts an arm around his back to pull him close, right up against his body, and he surges up into him.
His hand slips under Wilhelm's shirt to run up his bare back and he uses his vantage point to let his mouth wander off Wilhelm's mouth to his cheek and then presses a hot string of kisses along the length of his slender neck. "Wille," he murmurs sweetly into his skin and nips at the curve of his neck right when it hits his shoulder.
He sucks very lightly on Wilhelm's neck, he can't leave a mark in the real world so this is harmless. Briefly he pulls his head up to look at Wilhelm's face, framing it with both of his hands affectionately.
"What do I have permission for, love?" Jesper is down for anything so he feels like communication is key when using gentle handling with someone else. He wants to be certain Wilhelm feels safe and wanted in this room. "Can I take your shirt off?"
Wilhelm grants permission in the slight shifting of his hips when Jesper presses their bodies together, and in the resulting sigh that simmers on his tongue. He gives it in the way he arches his back in reply to Jesper's hand slipping under the hem of his shirt, the way he tilts his head back in reply to his lips wandering down his neck, the way he clutches at his hair to keep him in place. When he decided to meet Jesper here, he wasn't sure of his own intentions. All he knew was that he needed to feel close to somebody. He needed to not be alone.
And, well, give an inch, take a mile.
Wille, Jesper murmurs against his pulse. A shiver slides up his spine. It's stupid — everybody at school called him that, but in his brain the nickname belongs to Simon in a way nobody else can claim. For one precarious moment, Wilhelm teeters on the brink between bliss and loneliness, the one emptying his head and the other his heart.
He's pulled back by the pressure of Jesper's lips on his neck, releasing with a soft wet pop. Jesper's palms cradling his face, his beautiful smile filing down those jagged edges inside him again.
"Mm...yeah..."
To help him, Wilhelm leans back to pull his sweater over his head. The plain t-shirt underneath is all Jesper's. As soon as it's discarded, he's leaning in to claim his lips. Running his hands down Jesper's chest, he starts to work apart the buttons of his shirt. It's only fair.
This is usually the best way to make Jesper feel better when he's in a bad mindset. He has no shame about that. Desire is blinding, it's pure sensation, it's beautiful. It wouldn't bother him that Wilhelm's in his head about someone else because he wouldn't consider that a reflection on him. Jesper's very confident and if giving Wilhelm a well-earned distraction from whatever is bothering him will be helpful, it's the kindest sort of thing he can do for a friend. Although obviously not selfless.
Jesper gets rid of the t-shirt and eagerly runs his long fingers over Wilhelm's chest and back. He's so soft; Jesper would not be surprised to hear he's a royal. He knows the smooth perfect skin of rich boys. He lets Wilhelm undo his shirt and shrugs out of it easily. Jesper is very skinny and leanly muscled, his limbs long but thin.
His hands move down to Wilhelm's thighs and he grips them only so he can lift him and do a graceful spin move, settling Wilhelm on his back on the bed instead. Jesper moves on top of him and slides between his legs, stealing a kiss again. One hand holds him steady on top of Wilhelm while the other runs down his neck and over his torso. He experimentally brushes a thumb against his nipple just to see what he likes. He loves learning new partners.
"You're so pretty, pigeon," he murmurs, catching his breath. "Am I being acceptably distracting?" Jesper smiles, sucking on his bottom lip.
With eyes half-lidded, he lets the world tunnel to just Jesper. His hands cascading caresses over his skin, tightening around his thighs as he flips him onto his back. His mouth covering his, replacing air with warm breath and a steady stream of kisses. Too lonely to feel especially awkward about how fast this is all unfurling, Wilhelm obliges. He makes room for Jesper between his legs. He traces the wiry muscle of his biceps, finds the little scars marking an eventful life.
By the time Jesper murmurs that he's pretty, he actually believes him. That tongue of his is damn persuasive. Laughing against his lips, Wilhelm holds his face and stretches his fingers into his hair at the nape of his neck.
"A-plus," he awards with facetious pomp and circumstance. "One-hundred percent."
He can't be sure if he's happy right now, but it's near enough to happiness. He's tired of feeling with his heart anyway; feeling with his body seems a gentler route. So he doesn't shy from the tide of arousal rising inside him — he wades right into it, pulling Jesper down for another kiss, wandering his hands down his body.
Now that Jesper's shirtless Wilhelm can see the three tattoos on his torso, two of them new but nevertheless put onto his Horizon skin too. There's the Dregs tattoo on his right forearm, a protection symbol on his left, and a tattoo of a gun on his bicep with the Wheel of Fortune symbol in the hilt. In real life, it glows in the dark, but it's not currently. As wiry as Jesper is, it's clear that he's built like the rogue he is, like someone ready to fight. His fingers are calloused from guns and swords. Jesper can tell that Wilhelm's giving into the lust of their situation and it's good to see him relax and be less anxious. There's no need to overthink in Jesper's imaginary bed. Wilhelm has no idea how good Jesper's tongue truly is.
He laughs at Wilhelm's grading of his efforts as A+ and returns the kiss, delving deep into his mouth again, massaging his tongue, memorizing the heat and taste of him. Jesper loves the feel of Wilhelm's hot soft hands over his body and experimentally tests the waters by slowly rocking his hips down into Wilhelm's. He is in a good position to do that, settled between his legs, and that little bit of friction goes a long way.
Jesper pulls out of the kiss and brushes his lips against Wilhelm's cheek and over to his ear. He sucks the lobe into his mouth before speaking low and promising. "The only thing I want is to make you feel good, love." He lets his mouth travel down to his neck, pressing their hips together again. "You just tell me when I'm going too far, okay?" Maybe he shouldn't treat Wilhelm so gently, maybe he isn't as virginal as he seems. But on the off-chance he is, Jesper wants to be only a good memory for him, a friend he can count on whether it's kissing or protecting him.
"You're so soft, pigeon." He runs his fingers down Wilhelm's chest, sneaking just a little bit under his pants but not farther than a suggestive inch around the band.
Having had his entire life mapped out for him before he got pulled away from it all, Wilhelm craves any degree of control he can wrap his hands around. So while he lets Jesper take the lead, he takes control by other means. By rolling his hips up into Jesper's, firm and sure, back arching and breath simmering hot; by coasting his hands over the curve of his ass, pulling him down as if there could still be space between them left to crush. Wilhelm chooses this.
Tipping his head aside to surrender to Jesper's lips as they claim his ear, he slides his eyes over the designs inked onto his warm brown skin. He doesn't know anybody who has a tattoo — in the image-obsessed upper crust of society, there's no place for that level of self-expression. The lingering sense that he's doing something he shouldn't only heightens the thrill crackling through him.
As Jesper's mouth slides down his neck, and his hands slide down his chest — as his hips press him into the bed, and his whole body covers him like the sky — Wilhelm hums in dreamy agreement. Yes, he wants to feel good.
Jesper's mindfulness of his boundaries is sweet, but Wilhelm wants to show him that he doesn't have to tread so lightly. When his touch slips into his jeans, his belly dips in a soft gasp. He squeezes his hand between them to take Jesper's, not to intercept him, but to encourage him to pet him through his jeans. Wilhelm's hard, the heat of his arousal sweltering through the fabric. A moan stretches quietly in the back of his throat.
"I'm secretly very dangerous, remember?" Wilhelm teases. A moment's hesitation, his nerves betraying him in the inward curl of his lips. "You can...take them off, if you want."
He's already prying apart the button, pulling down the zipper.
There is nothing quite like the shift in interest to enthusiasm, and Wilhelm's opening up to Jesper far quicker than he expected. In the best sense. He meets it with his own want and need, his kiss hotter, rocking down against him with more force when his hips lift up. He's been clear with Wilhelm that he'll respect his boundaries, whatever they are, so he decides not to worry about it anymore. He'll tell Jesper if he doesn't want something. He has to trust in that, especially now that he wants to get his mouth all over him.
Wilhelm reacts beautifully and purposely moves his hand down in invitation and Jesper laughs into his neck. "I'm definitely in danger, sweetheart." He slides his hand under Wilhelm's pants as soon as Wilhelm unzips them, palming the hard heat he can feel beneath his underpants. He rubs at him slowly, his mouth moving across his chest. This is Jesper's favorite place to be. He loves the heat and adrenaline and the sound of a moan, he likes to unravel his partners until they're hot messes.
Jesper slides down Wilhelm's body, his tongue taking a second to playfully lick at each of his nipples, before he is pressing his mouth against Wilhem's stomach and trail down to where his pants are still on and he's straining against them. He leans to the side so he can pull Wilhelm's pants off and drop them to the floor. He decides to go for broke and press his mouth against the hard line of him underneath the underpants. He licks at the fabric in a not even close subtle way, mouthing over the length of him.
"Can I?" Gray eyes flicker up to Wilhelm from where he is currently, fully planning on taking them off with teeth once giving permission, but he does need permission. "Let me make you feel good. I'm very good with my mouth." As if that would be any surprise at this point. Jesper's in his element, he's oozing confidence and temptation.
All joking aside, it's really Wilhelm who's in danger. Under Jesper's mouth and touch, he melts. Hips rolling, he tries to fuck into Jesper's hand, hungry for its friction. Back arching, like a wave cresting before it snaps into sea foam, he stretches his chest into the heat of his tongue. With every new touch Jesper bestows on him, the rhythm of his breath resets, swelling into a gasp, sinking into a sigh. His own hands scramble to cover his face, to clutch at Jesper's hair.
He's not thinking about how, really, he's hardly had time at all to get to know Jesper in the handful of times they've crossed paths. He's not thinking about much at all, not when Jesper's yanking his jeans from his ankles and mouthing his cock through his boxers. And isn't this another way of learning each other? Just let their bodies speak for them. These days, there's little to talk about but doom and gloom anyway.
The look Wilhelm curves down at him is all hazy summer skies. Heat and anticipation for what comes next. He nods wordlessly, pushing both hands through Jesper's hair, lifting his hips to help him.
And now he's not thinking about how only one person has ever seen him like this, naked and alive with arousal and thoroughly vulnerable. Except he is thinking about it, a little bit.
Jesper is casual when it comes to sex but that doesn't mean he is casual in the act. He is very focused on his partners so it seems like they are the only people who exist in his entire world, and that is how it feels when in the midst of it. He is fully salacious, never bored, and always consumed and consuming in equal measures. He listens to Wilhelm's reactions and learns from them, copying gestures that he clearly wants, licking and sucking in small ways over his skin. Every new partner is a canvas, their bodies his to sculpt.
If he knew Wilhelm was struggling with his feelings about another man and what this all means for it, he would be sympathetic and kind, but in the end, this is still what he would insist on doing. No better way to get a person out of the past than to give them something in the present to hold onto.
Wilhelm's very responsive which is so appealing, his eyes glossy as they look down at him, and he smiles reassuringly up at him after the permission. He promised himself that he would distract both of them from the madness in their lives, and he will make good on that. He can tell Wilhelm is already getting lost in it and he does in fact use his teeth to pull off his underwear, sliding it down his legs afterward. He moves back between Wilhelm's legs now that he's bare and bows his head, nosing against Wilhelm's cock and breathing hotly over it, running his tongue from stem to tip. He curls it along the head, over the top and right under, and moans in open pleasure. He loves doing this.
"Pull my hair all you want, love, and you can fuck my mouth as hard as you like, I enjoy it."
That very sultry message given, Jesper gets to work. One hand curves around Wilhelm's thigh to keep him open for easier access, stroking his thumb reassuringly on the inner side. His other hand wraps around him for stability and he lowers his head down on him, taking him in with no problem. He goes slow purely so Wilhelm can adapt to the feeling of his hot wet mouth surrounding him and he sucks in his cheeks a little for increased tightness. He softens his throat so if Wilhelm takes him up on the thrusting it will be easy and bobs on him, a look of genuine bliss on his face has he focuses on making this good for both of them.
A surprised laugh catches in his throat as Jesper snags his boxers with teeth instead of fingers, which places him...right there when Wilhelm's cock bobs free. Seized by self-consciousness, he turns his face toward the pillow. His hand flutters over his mouth while his breath flutters out on a sigh. Feeling Jesper's weight move the mattress as he reclaims his place between his legs, Wilhelm dares to peek down at him again. Anticipation sharpens in his belly as Jesper's breath slides over him.
And then his self-consciousness gets swallowed up in a surge of pleasure, smothered by the heat of Jesper's tongue. A moan spills out. His fingers curl tighter in his hair even before Jesper says that. Even in optimal circumstances, cultivated for the utmost clarity of thought, Wilhelm wouldn't know how to respond. Too dumbfounded to come up with anything smart, too shy to try matching him in seduction. Now, with Jesper cradling his cock and stretching his mouth around him, all he can produce is—
"Jes..."
But pulled apart on a whine, it sounds more like yes and please and more. All of him pulls tight like the strings of some instrument, ready to be plucked. His other hand bunches into a fist around the bedcovers. His hips wiggle, writhing upward, not out of any conscious decision on Wilhelm's part to follow Jesper's instructions, but because the wet warmth of that mouth just begs to be plunged into.
This is new. Not the act itself — though Jesper's, uh, expertise certainly transforms it — but the raw carnality untethered from the weight of feelings.
Jesper's had many partners so he knows what to expect most of the time, and he isn't surprised that Wilhelm's on the shy side. It doesn't bother him, he genuinely thinks it's sweet, especially being shy when in this most intimate of poses. It makes it very fun when someone like that can't help but throw themselves into the sensations, unable to care about their embarrassment over the pleasure of what they're experiencing. So he is amused when that exact thing happens, but it feeds his ego, his certainty in his ability.
It would be a shock for Wilhelm to be a dirty talker. Not an unwelcome one, but a genuine surprise, and he is perfectly content to let his moans and whines be all the sounds he needs. The sound of his nickname does often sound like a breathy yes, and it never fails to get him going. When Wilhelm pushes up Jesper takes him in eagerly, allowing him to go as deep as possible without consequence.
He keeps the pace slow mostly because he wants Wilhelm to enjoy it, so he can really linger in these good feelings and get out of his head. He knows how to ramp it up when he wants to. He starts out with steady bobs up and down, a nice rhythm in between Wilhelm's needy thrusts up. Once that pace is settled he strokes Wilhelm with his hand every time his head lifts, sliding smoothly across him now thanks to his saliva.
He speeds up his movements just a little as he feels Wilhelm get into it, his hand moving faster on him, playing a little dirty the next time he lifts his head to purposely lick his tongue over the head to lap up the fluid there, tasting him before dropping back down.
Wilhelm is definitely out of his head now. He's practically in orbit, spinning circles around the room without having to leave the bed at all. His inexperience — eroding his endurance, all of him burning up like a meteorite crashing through the atmosphere — makes a slow pace wise. It gives him a chance to float. Suspended here in this moment, nothing exists beyond the heat of Jesper's mouth and hand, the squeeze of his tongue and throat, the pleasure pooling like magma under Wilhelm's skin.
Losing himself in the rhythm Jesper sets, he thrusts upward when his mouth slides down his shaft, groans when his cock nestles deep in his throat. Sometimes he throws his head back against the pillow, hair spilling all over, breath bobbing up and down, and sometimes he watches Jesper with heavy, hazy eyes. Those gorgeous lips, full of him. That dangerous tongue, tasting him, teasing him.
His hands weave into Jesper's hair. Clutch at his shoulders, palming the gun inked onto his bicep for encouragement. Trace his jaw and cheek, fingers contemplating his own hardness sheathed inside that soft skin.
Fuck.
He's not sure if he just thinks that or actually says it aloud — or something caught halfway between. Like the rest of him, hurtling through all the layers of the stratosphere.
"Jes...Jesper," he pleads, pulling lightly on his hair. He's close. He's close, he's close, he's close.
Jesper does flicker his eyes up toward Wilhelm a few times as he does this because he enjoys watching and he does look completely out of it, which is a real compliment. He is already thinking about other times he plans on bringing Wilhelm down this road, he would love to feel the flushed skin under his mouth, watch his face more directly as he strokes him instead to the end. He is so very pretty and Jesper loves the start of these things, when all he can think of are the possibilities.
He glances up intentionally when Wilhelm's fingers caress his jaw and he knows exactly what he's doing, gray eyes heated and amused and he intentionally takes his cock on that side of his mouth for a few times so Wilhelm can feel the shape of it through his cheek. He never minds adjusting to encourage the sensuality of sex, but he knows too what it means when fingers dig into his hair like that. Jesper can feel the pulse, the tautness of Wilhelm's body underneath him, and he decides to give him exactly what he needs. He can tease another day and explore that with him. Not now.
Jesper picks up the pace from medium to relentless in a single instant, giving no time at all for Wilhelm to feel anything but constant sensation. His hand slides fast and ruthless over his cock, his hand on Wilhelm's thigh moving underneath his ass and he squeezes it, encouraging with a pull for Wilhelm to thrust into his hungry mouth. He wants him to chase his pleasure, to claim it as his own, lowering entirely down on him so he's completely wrapped in silk heat.
Jesper sucks in his cheeks around Wilhelm, making him as tight as possible while still comfortable to move in, and then deliberately moans around him, the vibrations meant to lift him higher.
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.
Jesper puts his entire body and mind into sexual acts but especially in these last few seconds before instinct takes over and he sends the person flying into orbit. He can make it feel any number of ways, but with Wilhelm, the intention is completely mindless. To get him out of his mind and body and floating somewhere else, and when he thrusts up into his throat deep, Jesper knows he's gotten him past thought.
He swallows the moment his mouth fills and his hand on him goes slow instead, moving but only in gentle sweeping ways that are encouraging him to get it all out. Milking him through the orgasm and taking it all down easily, before he stops so he doesn't overstimulate him. Jesper only pulls off when he is certain Wilhelm is done and he places his hand on his thigh, rubbing it tenderly as if encouraging him to relax and come down at his own pace.
Jesper licks his lips and makes certain not a drop was spilled, sighing contently at a job well done, and his throat is a little raw thanks to those ending thrusts, which he likes. He slides up on the bed next to Wilhelm and props himself on an elbow, letting gray eyes slide over his bare flushed body and to his face. It is always worth getting a good look at the damage he's done.
He reaches over to take Wilhelm's hand away from his mouth and kisses the fingertips. "So pretty," he murmurs, wanting to admire him.
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.
Jesper immediately leans into the affection and has no problem with Wilhelm cuddling up closer to him or seeking skin contact. He smiles and drops his hand down to Wilhelm's body, running his fingers along his bare chest and over his hip. Everyone reacts slightly differently after sex so he's ready to adapt to whatever Wilhelm prefers, but he does chuckle at the apology.
"Never apologize, love, I enjoy all of this."
Ardency is flattering! Stroking his hair and seemingly interested in helping him out, also flattering, and very much appreciated. Jesper never requires anything in response, but obviously given the chance he'll take it. He drops his hands from Wilhelm so he can undo the rest of his clothes and slide them off. He takes Wilhelm's hand and kisses it again before bringing it down to his hard and already leaking cock, encouraging him to take it.
"Please, Wille," he murmurs, gray eyes warm and lustful. Jesper never has problems begging or asking for what he wants, he knows what he wants. "I want you."
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.
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There's a moment, in that initial break, where his eyes flutter open and he's almost thrown off by the not-yet-familiar landscape of Jesper's face. Just as fast, he dives back in. His fingers trail down the side of Jesper's neck, trace his shirt collar and buttons. His lips part for him, welcoming the warm glide of his tongue, goading him with a flick of his own. A soft sigh curls in the back of his throat.
Funny, how even ten minutes ago he couldn't have predicted that this was where the day would lead him.
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Jesper likes the touch of Wilhelm's fingers against his skin, his sweet lips, the eager way he invites him into his mouth. And Jesper doesn't hesitate to deepen the kiss, to expertly explore him, his free hand dropping down to his knee, caressing a thumb against his lower thigh comfortably. He keeps kissing him until they're both out of breath and when he comes up for air, his lips just travel across Wilhelm's cheek. His hand in Wilhelm's hair tilts his head to the side and he kisses his neck gently.
He realizes where they are though and only then does he lift his head, gray eyes soft and bright. "There's a room over there." He nods his head toward Kaz's room, which is currently empty, and he will just have to gamble on it continuing to be. "Just to be clear, I'm happy to kiss you, love, but anyone can walk in on us here looking for me." Jesper is popular, there's a high chance of that.
He smirks though. "Unless you like that sort of thing." Hey, some people are into being watched. He doesn't judge.
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By the time Jesper pulls away, he's half-forgotten how to speak. He tinges pink as he realizes that the room, although empty at the moment, isn't exactly private. Of course Mr. Popularity over here must receive visitors all the time.
"No," he answers emphatically, poking Jesper's chest with both pointer fingers. That's for the exhibitionism comment, of course. Wilhelm can honestly think of next to nothing that's less appealing. His gaze flicks to the room Jesper indicated, and his lips curl into a shy grin. "Yeah, let's...let's do that."
Standing, he remembers the drink he never tried. Might as well take a sip now — it's not that he has any doubts to chase away, but a little extra confidence never hurts.
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He waits for Wilhelm to take a bit of liquid courage. The drink is heavy but also tastes good, he made sure to get something he thought Wilhelm would like. He's a good host! He was just more focused on kissing him than drinking. Jesper smiles and curls his fingers in the front of Wilhelm's shirt, dragging him in the direction of Kaz's room. It's a simple and dark room and Jesper wisely creates a little sign for the door. Busy, go away it says, with a little smiley face on it. If Kaz sees it and yells at him later, oh well. It wouldn't be the first time.
Jesper pulls Wilhelm toward him the moment the door is closed. If it was anyone else he might be a little more aggressive, but he is still being gentle with this sweet boy, and sometimes that is exactly what he wants. Jesper is almost half a foot taller than Wilhelm so when he sits on the side of the bed and tugs him closer, it makes them more on the same level.
"You are in so much trouble, I can't believe you didn't come onto me at the party, I could have snuck us behind a tree to kiss." Jesper's being playful and he leans up to kiss him again, smiling against his lips.
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Now, when Jesper said room, he assumed he meant a storage room, or a parlor, or something like that. The bed — which immediately draws his attention, due as much to its prominent position as to the proclivities of the teenage mind — is a surprise. But not a deal-breaker for this little rendezvous. His gaze settles warmly on Jesper, who's shorter than him now that he's seated. Corralled between his knees, Wilhelm find balance by holding onto his shoulders. The kiss relaxes him, burying his busy mind in sweet nothingness.
"I..." His eyes slide sheepishly aside as he flounders for something to say that isn't about missing somebody else. "...Just thought you had plenty of other people to kiss."
Realizing how that might sound, he cringes. Compensates with a little laugh.
"I'm making it up to you now, aren't I?"
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"And yet you're the one I ended up on a date with that night. Which I don't regret. I like being around you, Wilhelm."
In their time together, Jesper has always teased him with endearments or with his pigeon nickname, but now he says his name like a caress. They're kissing, it is only fitting he actually use it for once. And it's an acknowledgement that they more or less were on a date that night, even if neither of them put it into words at the time. And Jesper still thought he might have been straight at that point. Not that it would stop him. He took advantage of any sign of flirting quickly after all.
Jesper cups his face, brushing his thumb along his cheekbone, gazing up at Wilhelm. He usually can only do so at an angle like this with most people, so it's rather nice. He runs a tongue over his lips, smirking.
"Make it up to me then."
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As Jesper dubs the evening they'd spent together at the party a date, soft surprise stumbles across his expression, settling into a shy smile. His name sounds good on Jesper's tongue. Though he knows the other boy has probably pronounced dozens of names with the same golden warmth, he doesn't doubt that it's genuine. Having lived in the upper class world of facades and flattery, Wilhelm has a sense for these things.
"You can call me Wille," he breathes.
Except he doesn't give Jesper a chance to try out the nickname, as he tilts into another kiss. Apparently answering his challenge — make it up to me then — he doesn't waste much time on chasteness. His tongue slides across Jesper's lower lip; he tries a playful nip. His hands go from tracing gentle patterns into Jesper's shoulders and down the front of his shirt, to nudging at him to scoot back so that he can settle into his lap, knees bracketing thighs to slot them closer together.
ignore me boomeranging
He notes the nickname and is about to repeat it when Wilhelm instead steals his breath away entirely. Jesper makes a pleased noise at the nip and kisses him deeply, leaning back to let Wilhelm settle onto his lap. He is slightly surprised by the forwardness but in the best possible way. Maybe he doesn't have to be so careful after all. Jesper puts an arm around his back to pull him close, right up against his body, and he surges up into him.
His hand slips under Wilhelm's shirt to run up his bare back and he uses his vantage point to let his mouth wander off Wilhelm's mouth to his cheek and then presses a hot string of kisses along the length of his slender neck. "Wille," he murmurs sweetly into his skin and nips at the curve of his neck right when it hits his shoulder.
He sucks very lightly on Wilhelm's neck, he can't leave a mark in the real world so this is harmless. Briefly he pulls his head up to look at Wilhelm's face, framing it with both of his hands affectionately.
"What do I have permission for, love?" Jesper is down for anything so he feels like communication is key when using gentle handling with someone else. He wants to be certain Wilhelm feels safe and wanted in this room. "Can I take your shirt off?"
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And, well, give an inch, take a mile.
Wille, Jesper murmurs against his pulse. A shiver slides up his spine. It's stupid — everybody at school called him that, but in his brain the nickname belongs to Simon in a way nobody else can claim. For one precarious moment, Wilhelm teeters on the brink between bliss and loneliness, the one emptying his head and the other his heart.
He's pulled back by the pressure of Jesper's lips on his neck, releasing with a soft wet pop. Jesper's palms cradling his face, his beautiful smile filing down those jagged edges inside him again.
"Mm...yeah..."
To help him, Wilhelm leans back to pull his sweater over his head. The plain t-shirt underneath is all Jesper's. As soon as it's discarded, he's leaning in to claim his lips. Running his hands down Jesper's chest, he starts to work apart the buttons of his shirt. It's only fair.
Re: i will not
Jesper gets rid of the t-shirt and eagerly runs his long fingers over Wilhelm's chest and back. He's so soft; Jesper would not be surprised to hear he's a royal. He knows the smooth perfect skin of rich boys. He lets Wilhelm undo his shirt and shrugs out of it easily. Jesper is very skinny and leanly muscled, his limbs long but thin.
His hands move down to Wilhelm's thighs and he grips them only so he can lift him and do a graceful spin move, settling Wilhelm on his back on the bed instead. Jesper moves on top of him and slides between his legs, stealing a kiss again. One hand holds him steady on top of Wilhelm while the other runs down his neck and over his torso. He experimentally brushes a thumb against his nipple just to see what he likes. He loves learning new partners.
"You're so pretty, pigeon," he murmurs, catching his breath. "Am I being acceptably distracting?" Jesper smiles, sucking on his bottom lip.
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By the time Jesper murmurs that he's pretty, he actually believes him. That tongue of his is damn persuasive. Laughing against his lips, Wilhelm holds his face and stretches his fingers into his hair at the nape of his neck.
"A-plus," he awards with facetious pomp and circumstance. "One-hundred percent."
He can't be sure if he's happy right now, but it's near enough to happiness. He's tired of feeling with his heart anyway; feeling with his body seems a gentler route. So he doesn't shy from the tide of arousal rising inside him — he wades right into it, pulling Jesper down for another kiss, wandering his hands down his body.
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He laughs at Wilhelm's grading of his efforts as A+ and returns the kiss, delving deep into his mouth again, massaging his tongue, memorizing the heat and taste of him. Jesper loves the feel of Wilhelm's hot soft hands over his body and experimentally tests the waters by slowly rocking his hips down into Wilhelm's. He is in a good position to do that, settled between his legs, and that little bit of friction goes a long way.
Jesper pulls out of the kiss and brushes his lips against Wilhelm's cheek and over to his ear. He sucks the lobe into his mouth before speaking low and promising. "The only thing I want is to make you feel good, love." He lets his mouth travel down to his neck, pressing their hips together again. "You just tell me when I'm going too far, okay?" Maybe he shouldn't treat Wilhelm so gently, maybe he isn't as virginal as he seems. But on the off-chance he is, Jesper wants to be only a good memory for him, a friend he can count on whether it's kissing or protecting him.
"You're so soft, pigeon." He runs his fingers down Wilhelm's chest, sneaking just a little bit under his pants but not farther than a suggestive inch around the band.
entering nsfw territory
Tipping his head aside to surrender to Jesper's lips as they claim his ear, he slides his eyes over the designs inked onto his warm brown skin. He doesn't know anybody who has a tattoo — in the image-obsessed upper crust of society, there's no place for that level of self-expression. The lingering sense that he's doing something he shouldn't only heightens the thrill crackling through him.
As Jesper's mouth slides down his neck, and his hands slide down his chest — as his hips press him into the bed, and his whole body covers him like the sky — Wilhelm hums in dreamy agreement. Yes, he wants to feel good.
Jesper's mindfulness of his boundaries is sweet, but Wilhelm wants to show him that he doesn't have to tread so lightly. When his touch slips into his jeans, his belly dips in a soft gasp. He squeezes his hand between them to take Jesper's, not to intercept him, but to encourage him to pet him through his jeans. Wilhelm's hard, the heat of his arousal sweltering through the fabric. A moan stretches quietly in the back of his throat.
"I'm secretly very dangerous, remember?" Wilhelm teases. A moment's hesitation, his nerves betraying him in the inward curl of his lips. "You can...take them off, if you want."
He's already prying apart the button, pulling down the zipper.
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Wilhelm reacts beautifully and purposely moves his hand down in invitation and Jesper laughs into his neck. "I'm definitely in danger, sweetheart." He slides his hand under Wilhelm's pants as soon as Wilhelm unzips them, palming the hard heat he can feel beneath his underpants. He rubs at him slowly, his mouth moving across his chest. This is Jesper's favorite place to be. He loves the heat and adrenaline and the sound of a moan, he likes to unravel his partners until they're hot messes.
Jesper slides down Wilhelm's body, his tongue taking a second to playfully lick at each of his nipples, before he is pressing his mouth against Wilhem's stomach and trail down to where his pants are still on and he's straining against them. He leans to the side so he can pull Wilhelm's pants off and drop them to the floor. He decides to go for broke and press his mouth against the hard line of him underneath the underpants. He licks at the fabric in a not even close subtle way, mouthing over the length of him.
"Can I?" Gray eyes flicker up to Wilhelm from where he is currently, fully planning on taking them off with teeth once giving permission, but he does need permission. "Let me make you feel good. I'm very good with my mouth." As if that would be any surprise at this point. Jesper's in his element, he's oozing confidence and temptation.
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He's not thinking about how, really, he's hardly had time at all to get to know Jesper in the handful of times they've crossed paths. He's not thinking about much at all, not when Jesper's yanking his jeans from his ankles and mouthing his cock through his boxers. And isn't this another way of learning each other? Just let their bodies speak for them. These days, there's little to talk about but doom and gloom anyway.
The look Wilhelm curves down at him is all hazy summer skies. Heat and anticipation for what comes next. He nods wordlessly, pushing both hands through Jesper's hair, lifting his hips to help him.
And now he's not thinking about how only one person has ever seen him like this, naked and alive with arousal and thoroughly vulnerable. Except he is thinking about it, a little bit.
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If he knew Wilhelm was struggling with his feelings about another man and what this all means for it, he would be sympathetic and kind, but in the end, this is still what he would insist on doing. No better way to get a person out of the past than to give them something in the present to hold onto.
Wilhelm's very responsive which is so appealing, his eyes glossy as they look down at him, and he smiles reassuringly up at him after the permission. He promised himself that he would distract both of them from the madness in their lives, and he will make good on that. He can tell Wilhelm is already getting lost in it and he does in fact use his teeth to pull off his underwear, sliding it down his legs afterward. He moves back between Wilhelm's legs now that he's bare and bows his head, nosing against Wilhelm's cock and breathing hotly over it, running his tongue from stem to tip. He curls it along the head, over the top and right under, and moans in open pleasure. He loves doing this.
"Pull my hair all you want, love, and you can fuck my mouth as hard as you like, I enjoy it."
That very sultry message given, Jesper gets to work. One hand curves around Wilhelm's thigh to keep him open for easier access, stroking his thumb reassuringly on the inner side. His other hand wraps around him for stability and he lowers his head down on him, taking him in with no problem. He goes slow purely so Wilhelm can adapt to the feeling of his hot wet mouth surrounding him and he sucks in his cheeks a little for increased tightness. He softens his throat so if Wilhelm takes him up on the thrusting it will be easy and bobs on him, a look of genuine bliss on his face has he focuses on making this good for both of them.
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And then his self-consciousness gets swallowed up in a surge of pleasure, smothered by the heat of Jesper's tongue. A moan spills out. His fingers curl tighter in his hair even before Jesper says that. Even in optimal circumstances, cultivated for the utmost clarity of thought, Wilhelm wouldn't know how to respond. Too dumbfounded to come up with anything smart, too shy to try matching him in seduction. Now, with Jesper cradling his cock and stretching his mouth around him, all he can produce is—
"Jes..."
But pulled apart on a whine, it sounds more like yes and please and more. All of him pulls tight like the strings of some instrument, ready to be plucked. His other hand bunches into a fist around the bedcovers. His hips wiggle, writhing upward, not out of any conscious decision on Wilhelm's part to follow Jesper's instructions, but because the wet warmth of that mouth just begs to be plunged into.
This is new. Not the act itself — though Jesper's, uh, expertise certainly transforms it — but the raw carnality untethered from the weight of feelings.
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It would be a shock for Wilhelm to be a dirty talker. Not an unwelcome one, but a genuine surprise, and he is perfectly content to let his moans and whines be all the sounds he needs. The sound of his nickname does often sound like a breathy yes, and it never fails to get him going. When Wilhelm pushes up Jesper takes him in eagerly, allowing him to go as deep as possible without consequence.
He keeps the pace slow mostly because he wants Wilhelm to enjoy it, so he can really linger in these good feelings and get out of his head. He knows how to ramp it up when he wants to. He starts out with steady bobs up and down, a nice rhythm in between Wilhelm's needy thrusts up. Once that pace is settled he strokes Wilhelm with his hand every time his head lifts, sliding smoothly across him now thanks to his saliva.
He speeds up his movements just a little as he feels Wilhelm get into it, his hand moving faster on him, playing a little dirty the next time he lifts his head to purposely lick his tongue over the head to lap up the fluid there, tasting him before dropping back down.
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Losing himself in the rhythm Jesper sets, he thrusts upward when his mouth slides down his shaft, groans when his cock nestles deep in his throat. Sometimes he throws his head back against the pillow, hair spilling all over, breath bobbing up and down, and sometimes he watches Jesper with heavy, hazy eyes. Those gorgeous lips, full of him. That dangerous tongue, tasting him, teasing him.
His hands weave into Jesper's hair. Clutch at his shoulders, palming the gun inked onto his bicep for encouragement. Trace his jaw and cheek, fingers contemplating his own hardness sheathed inside that soft skin.
Fuck.
He's not sure if he just thinks that or actually says it aloud — or something caught halfway between. Like the rest of him, hurtling through all the layers of the stratosphere.
"Jes...Jesper," he pleads, pulling lightly on his hair. He's close. He's close, he's close, he's close.
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He glances up intentionally when Wilhelm's fingers caress his jaw and he knows exactly what he's doing, gray eyes heated and amused and he intentionally takes his cock on that side of his mouth for a few times so Wilhelm can feel the shape of it through his cheek. He never minds adjusting to encourage the sensuality of sex, but he knows too what it means when fingers dig into his hair like that. Jesper can feel the pulse, the tautness of Wilhelm's body underneath him, and he decides to give him exactly what he needs. He can tease another day and explore that with him. Not now.
Jesper picks up the pace from medium to relentless in a single instant, giving no time at all for Wilhelm to feel anything but constant sensation. His hand slides fast and ruthless over his cock, his hand on Wilhelm's thigh moving underneath his ass and he squeezes it, encouraging with a pull for Wilhelm to thrust into his hungry mouth. He wants him to chase his pleasure, to claim it as his own, lowering entirely down on him so he's completely wrapped in silk heat.
Jesper sucks in his cheeks around Wilhelm, making him as tight as possible while still comfortable to move in, and then deliberately moans around him, the vibrations meant to lift him higher.
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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.
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He swallows the moment his mouth fills and his hand on him goes slow instead, moving but only in gentle sweeping ways that are encouraging him to get it all out. Milking him through the orgasm and taking it all down easily, before he stops so he doesn't overstimulate him. Jesper only pulls off when he is certain Wilhelm is done and he places his hand on his thigh, rubbing it tenderly as if encouraging him to relax and come down at his own pace.
Jesper licks his lips and makes certain not a drop was spilled, sighing contently at a job well done, and his throat is a little raw thanks to those ending thrusts, which he likes. He slides up on the bed next to Wilhelm and props himself on an elbow, letting gray eyes slide over his bare flushed body and to his face. It is always worth getting a good look at the damage he's done.
He reaches over to take Wilhelm's hand away from his mouth and kisses the fingertips. "So pretty," he murmurs, wanting to admire him.
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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.
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"Never apologize, love, I enjoy all of this."
Ardency is flattering! Stroking his hair and seemingly interested in helping him out, also flattering, and very much appreciated. Jesper never requires anything in response, but obviously given the chance he'll take it. He drops his hands from Wilhelm so he can undo the rest of his clothes and slide them off. He takes Wilhelm's hand and kisses it again before bringing it down to his hard and already leaking cock, encouraging him to take it.
"Please, Wille," he murmurs, gray eyes warm and lustful. Jesper never has problems begging or asking for what he wants, he knows what he wants. "I want you."
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"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.
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