He loses himself in Jesper the way you lose yourself in a good song. There's a familiarity to it, parts that he's learned by heart, like the thrill of Jesper's hands in his hair and the hot press of his lips, but now there are layers in the music he's never heard before. Jesper's pleasure heightens his own, each shift of his body fitting into Wilhelm's rhythm, each moan striking a new chord somewhere deep inside him. His hands can't decide where to touch. They want all of Jesper at once.

"Okay," his answer stretches out on a moan, his breath heavy and hot. Everything Jesper says sounds so damn good.

As hard as it is to hold back, he pauses his thrusting. Hand spread over Jesper's thigh, coaxing it back into a sharper angle, he pushes in as slowly as he can. He can feel every inch of Jesper's body clinging to him, every degree of sweltering heat swallowing up his cock. He tries to watch him just as carefully, but the moan swelling from his throat makes his head tip back, his eyes flutter shut.

Being inside of Jesper makes him feel closer to him than he's ever been. It makes him feel like he can just pour his feelings into him without saying a word. How happy he is to have met him, how much it means to him to know that there's someone he can turn to in small, dark hours, someone who can make him smile and laugh anyway.

Out again, just as slowly, just as sweet and savoring. Even at this pace, Wilhelm struggles to breathe. Then, it wasn't part of Jesper's instructions, but he grabs his wrists and pins them to the bed, before he plunges in all at once, faster and harder than anything he's given tonight. The moan that it knocks out of him is louder than anything he's given too.