He can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him when Jesper grins like that and slings innuendos, or the moan that stretches languidly from his throat when he gives his cock a little attention. More, Wille — his name pressing into him like the sweltering air around a fire as Jesper moves against his touch, and his beautiful body ripples over him. Slow as a caress, he draws his finger out, only to add another when he delves in again.

"I can only pick one?" he teases, trying on a bit of Jesper's flirtatious charm like he might try on his jacket. His playful pouting, though, quickly cracks into a bashful smile that he curves toward the pillow. Wilhelm distracts him with touch, which has always been easier to communicate with than words, pushing his palm up the inner perimeter of his thigh and cupping his balls. Brushing his fingers behind, tugging on his cock, all sweet and hungry at once.

As he works Jesper open, it's the good kind of nervous that flutters in his belly like all those translucent jellyfish they'd watched floating up to the sky. He wants to try this with him. At the same time that Jesper is a wild adventure, he's a safe space.