Desire trembles through him as Rhy caresses him first with a measuring look, then his hands. Wilhelm sways into his touch, soaking it up like a neglected flower finally drenched in the sun. A soft smile warming his face, he hangs onto every word pronounced by those agonizingly gorgeous lips. Lovely. It brings to mind delicate things that break too easily, but here it's not a condemnation of fragility, but an appreciation for...something precious.
He's starting to forget that he's lonely.
Whether Wilhelm will obey the order is not a question. Wedged between Rhy's thighs is exactly where he wants to be right now. But he rebels just a little in the way he palms him through his trousers for a lingering moment, holding his golden gaze, biting his lip, before he folds himself onto his knees. The woven little rug thrown beside the bed softens the floor enough.
"Rhy," he sighs, gliding his palms along his thighs.
As he sets to prying apart the laces cinching Rhy's trousers shut, an idea hits him. Leaning in, he noses the outline of Rhy's cock, ghosts his breath over him. Then snagging the cord between his teeth, he tugs it loose, slowly, sinuously. There's nothing innocent about the little smirk he aims up at Rhy.
"I learned this trick from Jesper."
What compels him to confess this, he's not sure. Maybe it's because he already knows Rhy and Jesper are intimate that he loosens his hold on the privacy he usually prizes. Maybe it's because he desperately wants to prove to Rhy that he's not some fumbling, blushing virgin.
no subject
He's starting to forget that he's lonely.
Whether Wilhelm will obey the order is not a question. Wedged between Rhy's thighs is exactly where he wants to be right now. But he rebels just a little in the way he palms him through his trousers for a lingering moment, holding his golden gaze, biting his lip, before he folds himself onto his knees. The woven little rug thrown beside the bed softens the floor enough.
"Rhy," he sighs, gliding his palms along his thighs.
As he sets to prying apart the laces cinching Rhy's trousers shut, an idea hits him. Leaning in, he noses the outline of Rhy's cock, ghosts his breath over him. Then snagging the cord between his teeth, he tugs it loose, slowly, sinuously. There's nothing innocent about the little smirk he aims up at Rhy.
"I learned this trick from Jesper."
What compels him to confess this, he's not sure. Maybe it's because he already knows Rhy and Jesper are intimate that he loosens his hold on the privacy he usually prizes. Maybe it's because he desperately wants to prove to Rhy that he's not some fumbling, blushing virgin.