“That’s the idea, luv.” He continues his journey down, down, down, thriving on every impatient squirm and hitched breath he earns from the other boy. He can feel his own arousal react to it, and it makes him all the more eager to give into to Wylan’s impatience.

As he draws closer to Wylan’s waistband, he hooks his thumbs there and tugs the offending material out of the way. He knows the feeling of release from those constrictions is like a breath you can finally take— and Jesper is in just enough of a playful, teasing mood, he does not touch the newly freed erection.

Instead, he slides back up the length of Wylan’s body and kisses him deeply, a hungry thing that definitely promises to deliver, soon, just a little longer while he continues to draw it out, teasing and driving him wild. “Tell me you want me,” he whispers against the shell of Wylan’s ear, voice husky and his Zemeni accent thicker than usual. “Tell me how much.” They aren’t demands exactly, more like requests, made softly, and pleading.