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Incontrovertible

Summary:

He swallowed. "I'm telling you you can do whatever you want with me, however you want it."

"So tonight's gonna be like that, huh,” Jesper murmured, his eyes knowing. "Tonight I get to decide what you need?"

Wylan's voice caught in his throat. Ghezen, he wanted that so much he was almost afraid to get it. He already felt so small and vulnerable that Jesper’s entire attention focused on him might be too much. He’d shatter. He’d dissolve. And maybe that's what he needed, to be taken apart piece by piece until he couldn't speak, couldn't think.

Notes:

Thanks to Rumpel for making it 70% softer and more loving and Cleo for help tightening up the D/s dynamic.

This contains discussion of Wylan's insecurities from an emotionally abusive childhood, so please take care of yourself while reading!

Work Text:

Wylan told himself it was the brandy they’d drank after dinner in their host’s study that made him pin Jesper to the wall the moment they were alone in their room. He told himself that, but he didn’t believe it for a second. 

He’d drank more than he should, and he was holding Jesper tighter than he needed to, and he was filled with so much need that he was shaking. 

He fumbled at the buttons of Jesper’s suit– it needed to be refitted now. He’d put on weight in Novyi Zem, his lanky frame filling out with flesh and defined muscle as he began using his zowa abilities in earnest. Jesper was so beautiful. He always had been, but now, skin and eyes glowing with health, his body firm and solid under Wylan’s hands, tight, intricate braids flattering the shape of his face in a way that his old close-cropped style had not… 

Wylan never wanted to stop touching him.

They had made love during the week since Jesper had returned, of course, mouths and hands retracing familiar paths and joyfully taking each other to pieces. They had lain in each other’s arms afterward and whispered that they loved each other. 

It wasn’t enough. Wylan wanted more of him. Wanted to give him more. Everything about the changes in his lover made him feel anxious, needy, as if they only had a short time left. And that was the crux of it, maybe. 

Now that Jesper had conquered his addiction and taken control of his life and his abilities, why would he still waste his time with Wylan Van Eck? Watching him laughing, talking, smiling tonight, Jesper had seemed larger than life, and Wylan was the same as he’d always been. 

Awkward. Uncertain. Petty. Flawed and desperately trying to compensate. 

It was only a matter of time before Jesper grew impatient, frustrated, tethered to Wylan by his own stubborn loyalty and unwilling to admit that he could do so much better. 

Despite what his friends assumed, Jan Van Eck had loved Wylan once. It had only been after he proved himself useless over and over, for years, that his father’s love had turned to resentment. He’d seen it in his tutors as well– confidence at first, that they could overcome his disability together, before their patience was exhausted and they went through the motions without expecting any measure of success from him. 

As an adult, he’d worked very hard to make up for his limitations, to cover for his uncertainty, to don the mask of the self contained young councilman and not let anyone close enough to find out how thin the illusion really was. Anyone, that was, except Jesper. 

Jesper genuinely didn’t care that he couldn’t read, and Wylan loved him for it. But Wylan’s vast catalog of other flaws and weaknesses spoke for itself. His lack of confidence, where Jesper could sweep into a room and charm everyone in it. His dark, touchy moods and need for solitude. His body, acne-scarred, clumsy, wound tight with a tension that never fully left him. 

He’d always held a secret dread of the day when all that love and admiration in Jesper’s eyes turned into frustration and resigned pity. He’d thought he’d worked past a lot of it when he’d established himself as a businessman and the head of his household– wasn’t that the measure of worthiness, after all, to be able to provide for your partner and handle your own affairs? Hadn’t he proven his father wrong by being able to keep his holdings stable and in the black? 

But there was still a voice in the back of Wylan’s head reminding him: You can’t pretend forever. You’ll never be enough.

But here, now, tonight, Jesper was still his, and Wylan felt ravenous. He could feel Jesper’s cock growing hard when he pressed against him, see the dark heat in his gray eyes, and physical need overwhelmed him. 

As Wylan frantically worked to undo his trousers, Jesper’s hands caught his and lifted them to his mouth to press soft, soothing kisses over the backs of them, along the fingers, his breath fluttering over the sensitive insides of his wrists. Wylan made a sound that was almost a sob as Jesper sidestepped out from between him and the wall. 

“Talk to me, love,” he said, low and heated. “What’s got you all worked up tonight? What do you need?”

“You,” Wylan breathed as Jesper set Wylan’s hands on his shoulders and looked down into his eyes. 

“You have me, sweetheart. I’m right here.” Jesper reached out and caressed Wylan’s cheek and he shut his eyes and leaned into the touch. 

“Just you,” he whispered. “However I can have you, for as long as I can have you.”

"And I want to give you whatever it is you need so badly right now, Wy, but you're going to have to tell me what that is," Jesper pressed, running a thumb across Wylan's lower lip in a gesture that somehow managed to be sweet and filthy at the same time. Wylan felt his already-hard cock jump at the gesture.

He swallowed. "I'm telling you you can do whatever you want with me, however you want it." 

"So tonight's gonna be like that, huh,” Jesper murmured, his eyes knowing. "Tonight I get to decide what you need?" 

Wylan's voice caught in his throat. Ghezen, he wanted that so much he was almost afraid to get it. He already felt so small and vulnerable that Jesper’s entire attention focused on him might be too much. He’d shatter. He’d dissolve. And maybe that's what he needed, to be taken apart piece by piece until he couldn't speak, couldn't think.

“Whatever I want, however I want it," Jesper mused. "That's quite an offer, sweetheart." He kissed Wylan slowly, deliberately, and Wylan shivered in arousal, shutting his eyes for a moment. 

“And you're sure that's what you want, love? No hiding.” Jesper’s hand on Wylan’s face tightened until he was gripping his jaw. “Open your eyes and look at me. All you have to say is no. You know that.”

Wylan opened his eyes. Jesper’s expression and grip were firm, but his voice was soft. Wylan swallowed hard. 

“I want it,” he said, his voice shaking. 

“And you’re gonna take it, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Jesper released the hard grip on his jaw, stroked through Wylan’s curls. “You’re gonna be good for me?”

Wylan nodded, thrilling with anticipation.  

“Say it.”

He shivered. “I–”

Jesper’s hand tightened in his hair, pulling his head back and making him gasp sharply. As always, he felt the jolt of intense arousal followed by a sweet wave of submissiveness, and he whimpered. 

“Are you going to be good for me? Say it.” His voice was gentle but unrelenting.

Refusing to be good would mean that he wanted to push back until Jesper put him in his place, that he wanted it playful and fierce and a little rough. But saying yes…

Yes would mean that Jesper would take him apart completely until he couldn’t speak, praise him until he tried to hide his face in Jesper’s chest, and make it hurt just enough that every sensation burned even brighter. Yes would mean submitting completely. 

Wylan should say no and keep things light. His emotions were too raw tonight, too close to the surface. But he didn't want to push back, didn't want to be anything but good. “Yes,” his mouth said without his permission, and then it was too late. Jesper grinned at him. 

“Take off your clothes for me then.”

Jesper released him, and, jaw still tingling where Jesper had gripped it, Wylan began to remove his clothes. He could feel the heat of his skin, knew that he was blushing all over. He couldn’t help darting little looks at Jesper through his lashes, seeking reassurance in his lover’s open approval of his body. 

There was nothing special about it, of course. It was just a body. Wylan thought of Ravkan marble statues of saints, all height and noble features and sculpted muscle, of Jesper’s own broad shoulders and strong, deft hands. Wylan looked nothing like the type of man he found attractive himself. Still, there was hot desire in Jesper’s eyes and the hint of a smirk on his face as each piece of Wylan’s clothing joined the growing pile on the floor. Jesper made no move to undress himself, and that made Wylan feel even more naked as he stood before his partner, mingled anticipation and vulnerability uncoiling inside of him. 

“Good,” he murmured, and Wylan felt the softest little shiver run through him. “Now lie down on the bed. I’m taking my time with you tonight.”

Don’t take your time, Wylan wanted to say. Overwhelm me, destroy me until I can’t think, only feel. Be rough enough that I can cry without you having to ask why. Use me.

Wylan lay down on the bed, aching and silent, because he would not talk back. He would be good for Jesper. He would do this right. 

“Look at you,” Jesper said, the fondness clear in his voice as he strode to the bed and brushed a curl away from Wylan’s face. “All laid out for me to do whatever I want to.” He stroked his hand down Wylan’s cheek with a feather-light touch, grazing it over his neck and tracing the tendons in his throat. Wylan’s eyes drifted shut, just feeling. Jesper leaned down and trailed kisses along his collarbone, so faint they made his skin tingle. 

He arched and reached for Jesper to pull him closer. Jesper’s hands closed around his upper arms and pressed him back down. Wylan gasped in arousal at the tightness of his grip, just the near edge of painful, as Jesper held him down to continue lavishing kisses over his skin. 

“Now be patient for me,” Jesper told him, gentle reproach in his voice. “I won’t let you rush this.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, licking his lips. “I’ll be good for you. So good.”

Jesper released Wylan’s arms, tenderly stroking and kissing the spots where his fingers had dug in. “That’s right,” Jesper all but purred. “You will. I’ll make sure of that.” He licked a line up the center of Wylan’s abdomen to the center of his chest and blew cold air on it, making goosebumps rise up on his skin. Wylan shivered, another quiet sound escaping his throat. 

Jesper slowly began running his hands over Wylan’s thighs. The caress made Wylan sigh in bliss. He wanted more, harder, but he would wait. He would take what he was given. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Just relax and let me take care of you.” Jesper stroked his hands up Wylan’s hips and torso, tracing from the cut of his ribcage up to his solar plexus, then spreading his hands and wrapping them around Wylan’s ribs to hold him firmly.

Wylan was no longer the slender, wiry youth he had been in the Barrel. But he never felt as fragile and protected as he did when Jesper wrapped those big hands around him and he looked down and saw how much of his body they could still cover. At some point, Jesper had figured this out, and now he made a point of doing it, holding him like this, grounding him. He kissed a line up the center of Wylan’s chest, lingering on his throat. Wylan arched his neck, thrilling at the heat of Jesper’s breath and the brush of his lips on his pulse point. 

More slow, lazy kisses to his neck and throat. Wylan breathed deeply, feeling vulnerable, charged, thrilled. The hot lick of Jesper’s tongue over his jaw, a nuzzle to the hollow of his throat. Jesper breathed in the scent of his skin and Wylan wished it could be like this forever. 

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too.” Jesper’s response was immediate and Wylan could feel his smile in the way the shape of Jesper’s lips changed against his skin. Wylan’s throat closed up with emotion. 

Jesper placed one last kiss on his cheek and sat up, sliding his hands down to Wylan’s stomach. He dragged his fingertips up and down the trail of coarse ginger hair that led to his cock, stopping just short of it and giving the curls around it a little tug each time. Wylan’s eyes squeezed shut, his breath catching at the sensation that was almost but not quite pain and sent even more blood rushing to his cock. He squirmed, wanting Jesper’s hand around him but knowing he wasn’t going to get it, not yet– maybe not at all. He’d have to earn it. He wanted to be made to earn it. 

Jesper’s hands were on his thighs again, folding Wylan’s legs up and apart. Wylan squirmed. He could almost feel Jesper’s gaze on him, and his blood heated in anticipation. 

“There’s something I’d like to do,” Jesper said, and Wylan was nodding almost before the words were out of his mouth. 

“Yes. Please, Jes, do–” 

Jesper pinched his inner thigh, making him gasp. “Don’t interrupt me. Listen . I’m going to show you what I’d like to do, and then you’re going to let me know how you feel about it and be honest with me.” He pinched Wylan’s other thigh, making a low, approving noise when Wylan flinched, then shuddered a little. “I can tell when you’re lying. I’ll be very disappointed if you lie.”

Wylan nodded obediently, his head swimming as he imagined the bruises that would bloom on his thighs in a couple hours. 

Jesper rose from the bed and there was a rustling sound. Wylan opened his eyes and saw that Jesper was rummaging through one of the bags he had not unpacked yet. He pulled out a metallic sphere the size of a grapefruit and came back to the bed. 

“I can work with a lot of materials now,” he said, and Wylan watched as he squeezed the ball, “But metal is still the easiest.” His fingers dented it as if it were a cushion, then smoothed the dents over. Jesper turned the metal over in both hands, pulling it into two pieces, then pressing it back into one. Wylan watched, fascinated, as Jesper flattened it into a disk, then made it look like it was melting over the edge of his hand. Then he met Wylan’s eyes and held it up, and as Wylan watched, it formed a new shape, phallic with a blunt, rounded tip. 

“Can I put it inside you?” Jesper asked. Wylan realized with a slow smile that Jesper had spent no small amount of time during his training fantasizing about how he could use the skills he was learning not only for creation, but for fun. 

Wylan reached up to touch it, half expecting it to be hot after seeing it move and bend like liquid. It was faintly cool to the touch. As he ran a hand over it, he realized: Jesper had made something with his own hands, no, his own gift, to give Wylan pleasure. 

“Yeah,” he said, meeting Jesper’s eyes, which were sparkling with excitement. Once again, he found himself losing every other thought to the sheer wonder of all that Jesper was. All that restless, unquenchable joy, curiosity, and intelligence. 

”Can I use my gift to change its shape once it’s in you?” 

He considered it carefully. “Show me?” he requested. 

Jesper grinned wickedly and the metal began to change shape, stretching long and curving slightly, then shortening and widening. Wylan’s eyes widened and his lips parted in a silent breath, imagining what it might be like to feel himself penetrated by that long, smooth length or stretched wide open until he whined at the burn of it.

He’d never thought of or fantasized about anything like this. He hadn’t known it was possible. But looking at what Jesper could do with it, a startling heat flooded through him. It was new and a little bit daunting, but he wanted this. And he trusted Jesper.

“I… please.

Jesper raised an eyebrow. Wylan felt his cheeks heat. 

“Please fuck me,” he said softly but clearly.

“Mmm.” Jesper ran the metal toy over Wylan’s inner thigh. “Fuck you with what? My fingers? My tongue? My cock? My sparkling personality?”

“Any of them. All of them.” Wylan swallowed, eyes not leaving the toy in Jesper’s hand. His body twitched and clenched in anticipation as if he could already feel it inside of him. “But the metal… the toy. That you just made. Fuck me with that.”

“Why?” Jesper continued, wickedly patient. “Tell me why you want it.”

Wylan squirmed. “Don’t be mean,” he dared to complain, and was punished– rewarded– punished– by another pinch to the thigh, this time higher up. He bit his lip. “I–”

The hand not holding the toy carded into his hair. “Look at me, Wy. Tell me why you want it.” 

Jesper’s eyes shone brighter than the metal.

“I– I want to know what it feels like,” Wylan whispered, struggling to get the words out. “I want you to do everything that you've thought about doing, every filthy thing you imagined when you made that–” his breath caught and he continued. “And I want you to use your gift to make me feel good. To make me yours.”

Jesper’s hand in his hair tightened and he pulled Wylan up and kissed him deep and hard. “Saints, you’re perfect,” he breathed between kisses. “Asking so nicely. So good, so perfect, so sweet for me, Wy.” The words overwhelmed Wylan for a moment and he felt a fluttery, almost panicked feeling, followed by a sharp, elated high. “You’re so hot when you ask me for what you want,” Jesper muttered, his mouth claiming Wylan’s again and again, quick and messy and fervent. “Fuck, fuck. Going to give it to you. So good for me, you're so good.”

Wylan let his hands reach up to caress Jesper’s shoulders. “Please,” he breathed back, the word muffled as Jesper kissed him again before he could get it entirely out. 

A moment and a half dozen more kisses later, Jesper released Wylan’s hair and drew away to open the drawer of the bedside table and pull out the oil. Jesper's fingers were warm and slick pressing into him and Wylan felt his inner muscles relax from the sheer familiarity of the routine, the particular way that Jesper would run the callused pad of a thumb over his rim. The little patterns Jesper traced over the crease of his thigh with his other hand. 

Jesper took his time, savoring each gasp and moan he could elicit, making the process as much pleasure and foreplay as preparation.  Little curls of his fingers, grazing Wylan’s prostate, made him whimper and rock his hips forward.

"Please," Wylan murmured. "Another.” Then, "Yes," as Jesper indulged him and pressed a third finger in. He savored the stretch of it, his head tilting back. 

"So good." Jesper slid his other hand down to caress Wylan's balls, tearing a broken little sound from his throat. 

"Such beautiful sounds you make for me. Tell me how it feels."  Jesper cradled them in his palm, squeezing lightly. His fingers inside Wylan stroked with devastating accuracy. Wylan's head thrashed on the pillow.

"Feels– feels– Jesper– " There were no words for it. Wylan's untouched cock throbbed almost painfully. "Feels amazing, you're so good to me. Please, Jes."

Jesper rewarded Wylan's answer with another crook of his fingers and then drew them out slowly.

"You're gonna look so hot with that toy inside you," he told Wylan almost reverently. "You're gonna take it so well for me. You ready, sweetheart?"

"Please," was all Wylan could get out. He leaned up on his elbows to watch as Jesper picked it back up from where he'd set it on the bed and stretched it longer and narrower. It gleamed, and Wylan found himself holding his breath as Jesper oiled it and slid it deep into him. 

It was smooth, cool, heavy, and utterly unyielding in him, like nothing he'd ever felt before. Jesper gave him a long moment to adjust to it, watching Wylan's face intently. Then suddenly Wylan felt it move in him. A cry of startled pleasure burst from him as his passage was forced to stretch to accommodate it's thickening girth. His eyes widened and he grabbed Jesper's hand.

It was unlike anything. It was obscene. It was amazing. 

"Jesper," he managed to choke out. "Jesper, Jesper ."

"Use words, sweetheart. Do you like it?" Jesper asked, squeezing his hand back. 

"Fuck," Wylan panted, feeling flushed and hot all over. "Yes." Jesper lengthened it again, pushing even deeper into him. He gave a full body shiver, then moaned as Jesper pulled it back to thicken it again, even wider this time. 

Wylan held Jesper's hand and clawed at the sheets with the other as Jesper established a rhythm, pressing deep inside, then drawing back and thickening the toy until Wylan felt impossibly stretched. He couldn't think and didn't want to. It was just him, the exquisite sensations, and Jesper, murmuring encouraging nonsense and manipulating the metal inside him. 

"How-- how can you-- do this so well? How did you-- practice it?" Wylan gasped between moans. 

Jesper grinned wickedly. "How do you think? Practiced on myself." Wylan slammed his eyes shut, the mental image of Jesper doing this to himself making everything else in his brain blank out for a long moment. 

"I thought of you," Jesper whispered, because he was a terrible, terrible man who thought it was entertaining to try to make Wylan come untouched. "I imagined doing this to you. Every time. Imagined how you'd react when I did this --" the toy thickened and twisted inside Wylan, and he keened-- "or this." It curled inside him, giving his prostate a long, rough stroke that made him arch off of the bed. 

“There we are.” Jesper brushed his lips against Wylan’s brow. “Just feel. Just be good for me, love. Now sit up.”

Wylan made an incoherent, dazed noise and Jesper helped him to sit. The toy shifted inside him as he moved, the weight of it an unfamiliar sensation. Jesper changed its shape inside him again, thickened it, so it wouldn’t slide out, he guessed. 

“See the pillow I’m putting down? Kneel on the pillow, darling. Just like that, good.” Wylan swung unsteady legs off the bed, stood, and then knelt, and Jesper got to his feet to stand in front of him, one hand smoothing Wylan’s tousled curls. Wylan leaned forward and pressed his face against the hard bulge in Jesper’s trousers, making a longing sound. Jesper thickened the toy inside him more, stretching him obscenely and holding him that way. He gasped for breath, mouthed Jesper's clothed erection mindlessly, desperately. 


“Please, Jes.”

“You want my cock, love?” Jesper trailed his fingers so lightly down the side of Wylan’s face that he stopped breathing for a moment, heart aching. 

“Please.”

“Go on, then, take it out.” Wylan unfastened Jesper’s trousers, pulled out his length, and was opening his mouth eagerly to take it in when Jesper stopped him with a hand on his head. 

“I’m going to ask for something. Remember that I always want you to say no if you don’t want to, all right?” 

Wylan nodded, looking up at him and accidentally-on-purpose shifting so that the tip of Jesper’s cock brushed over his lips. Jesper made a sound in his throat almost like a sob and slid his hand into Wylan’s hair to jerk his head back. The toy twisted inside him and Wylan whimpered. 

“I want to fuck your throat,” Jesper said, hand tight in Wylan’s hair, voice rough with desire. “Yes or no, Wylan?”

“Yes,” Wylan breathed, so, so desperate to take everything Jesper had to give. To soak in every bit of love and heat and tenderness and harshness and cling to it. He needed. He needed so much. 

He opened his mouth and Jesper pushed slowly in, biting back a moan, his hand still clenched in Wylan’s curls. Wylan carefully rose up a little to make sure he was at the right angle and then gave up control to Jesper entirely, sucking gently but making no attempt to guide the pace. 

“Good boy,” Jesper murmured, keeping his thrusts slow and shallow. “You have no fucking Idea how pretty you are, Wy. Gonna kill me like this, looking up through your damn eyelashes with my cock in your mouth. You make me so hard I can’t think .” 

Wylan moaned and sucked harder. He loved watching the pleasure transform Jesper's face and hearing the praise spill from his lips, loved the taste of him and the way he gasped and jerked when Wylan lashed his tongue over the sensitive spot beneath the head. Jesper’s hand in his hair tightened until he could feel points of pain bloom across his scalp. Then Jesper held Wylan’s head still and pushed deeper, one smooth, long thrust until Wylan’s throat was spasming around the head of his cock. Wylan’s eyes teared up reflexively and he gasped for breath as Jesper drew back. 

“Are you all right? Can I keep going?” The hand in his hair loosened and Wylan nodded. 

“More,” he said a little hoarsely. “Make me take it.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jesper said softly, reverently, and after another shallow thrust, pushed into Wylan’s throat again. Wylan’s eyes squeezed tightly shut, struggling to take it. He clenched a hand in the fabric of Jesper’s trousers. 

This in particular was a powerful act of trust and submission between the two of them. Taking Jesper into his throat was a challenge for him physically. But the feeling it gave him of being pushed to his limits did something to him. And how much Wylan’s trust meant to Jesper– how attentively and adoringly he made sure that he never took it too far– he’d be lying to himself if he pretended that wasn’t part of it. 

When Jesper pulled back, Wylan was shaking slightly. He sucked in a deep breath, coughed, and then made a pleading sound. 

“More?” Jesper asked. He stared down into Wylan's eyes, his pupils blown with desire. Suddenly Wylan felt not only naked but transparent, as if Jesper could see right through to the twisted, conflicted tangle of emotions inside. He shut his eyes and pressed his face against Jesper's upper thigh for a moment, catching his breath, then nodded, drawing back so he could tongue the head lightly, eyes still shut and mouth open.

"Saints," Jesper whispered. "Look at you." He stroked Wylan's hair, his face, making a helpless little sound of arousal as Wylan curled his tongue over him lovingly. 

"You want to feel good too, love? Want me to fuck you with the toy?"

Wylan nodded eagerly, changing the angle of his head to open up his throat. The toy shifted inside him, narrowed and thrust deep. He cried out, and Jesper pressed into his open mouth and began to move again, in the same rhythm as the toy, hitting the back of Wylan’s throat with quick thrusts that drew back before he could fully start choking. Wylan whined around his cock, unable to stop thinking about how debauched he must look, naked before his fully dressed lover, hips bucking into each thrust of the metal cock in him, his face wet with drool and involuntary tears. 

“You’re doing, oh, you’re doing amazing,” Jesper gritted out, his face drawn with pleasure but his hands still careful, so careful, in Wylan’s hair and the movements of his hips quick and precise. “I love you. So beautiful, Saints. Fuck.” He pulled back, fell to his own knees, cradled Wylan’s face in his hands as Wylan gasped for breath. His hands were warm and gentle, and Wylan leaned into them, blinking away tears, as the toy stilled inside him. 

“Thank you,” Jesper whispered and kissed him, sweetly at first, then harder– tasting himself on Wylan's tongue, he realized with a hot little thrill. Then Jesper curled a hand around the nape of Wylan’s neck and pressed his forehead to Wylan’s for a long moment as they both tried to remember how to breathe normally.

Wylan felt like his heart would beat out of his chest. Like his entire body was humming. Like he might shatter apart.

“Good, darling,” Jesper breathed. “Perfect, you’re doing perfect for me.” The toy inside him thickened again and Wylan let out a little sob. Then it slowly began to pull out, and he shivered and made a helpless sound.

“Please, don’t stop. Don’t–”

Jesper’s grip tightened on the nape of Wylan’s neck and he obediently stopped protesting as the toy slid the rest of the way out into Jesper's waiting hand, stretching his entrance and then leaving him clenching down on nothing. Jesper carefully set it on the nightstand.

“Do you want my cock now?” Jesper asked, and Wylan nodded hard. Jesper rose to his feet and helped him to stand. Wylan watched, his heart racing, as Jesper lay down on his back and held out a hand to him. 

“Come here, that’s it. You want to ride me?”

Wylan wanted to be thrown down onto the mattress and fucked so hard he left a Wylan-shaped dent in the bed. He wanted Jesper to wrap him tightly in his arms and tell Wylan over and over that he would never stop loving him. He wanted Jesper to leave bruises. He wanted him to touch him so tenderly that it was no more than a shiver over his skin. He didn’t know what he wanted, but he did want Jesper’s cock inside him, so much. 

 He fumbled for the oil as Jesper pushed his trousers and drawers to his knees. Pouring it into his hand, he stroked it generously over Jesper’s cock. He straddled his still-dressed lover’s hips, shaking with need.

“There, now let me watch you sinking down on me. I want to watch you take it.”

Wylan eased himself slowly onto Jesper's length, eyes falling shut and his head tilting back with a deep moan. Jesper pressed his hips up to meet him, his hands tightening on Wylan’s hips for a moment as Wylan took him the last fraction of an inch into his body. Jesper’s breathing was heavier now, quicker 

"Sit up straight, hands on your thighs,” he told Wylan. The new angle when he did made Jesper feel even bigger inside of him, and Wylan bit his lip. “Keep your hands on your thighs, all right, love? Now move on me, nice and slow. Show me how good you can be.”

It was a deceptively simple demand, fucking himself on his lover’s cock without being able to use his upper body. And Jesper felt perfect, so familiar and so good inside him. He raised and lowered himself steadily and Jesper moaned, watching him. The approval in his eyes, the way his hands cradled Wylan’s hips, thumbs dragging over the sensitive skin of his lower abdomen– Wylan felt almost drunk. He moved lazily, sensuously, but as the pleasure built, so did the strain in his hips and thighs. He tried to move faster, to chase his release, but Jesper made a reproving sound. 

“Behave, sweetheart, or you won’t get it at all.”

Wylan gave him a pleading look and Jesper slapped his thigh, making him hiss. On a different sort of day, he might have sped up to earn himself another slap, because the sting of it was exquisite. But he obediently slowed down. 

Rising, then sinking slowly back down, the sweet, perfect feeling of being filled. Again and again, his thighs and hips and now his calves aching. Jesper was making the hottest sounds, pressing up into him on each stroke. Wylan was sweating, helpless sounds of pleasure welling up in him every time he got the angle just right and Jesper’s cock nudged his prostate. 

“So beautiful,” Jesper breathed. “Say it, I want you to say you’re beautiful. Tell me.”

“I– I’m beautiful,” Wylan panted out. It made him feel shockingly vulnerable to say the things about himself that he so loved to hear from Jesper, and Jesper knew it. He dared to grind himself down a little harder. He wanted to touch his cock so, so badly, but he didn’t ask. He would make Jesper proud of him. 

“You’re so sexy and you take my cock so well. You take it like you were made for it. Say it.”  

Wylan bit his lip, feeling a spike of mingled arousal and embarrassment. “I’m sexy. I take your cock so well– made for you. Yours.” He moaned the last words. 

“You’re my good boy. Say it.” Jesper’s voice was growing ragged.

Tears stung in Wylan’s eyes. “I’m your good boy. I’m your good boy.”

“So good. So perfect.” Jesper’s hands tightened on his hips, moving him a little harder.  

Wylan blinked hard to keep the tears from running down his cheeks. “Wanna be so good for you. Want you to love me forever.”

“Shit, Wy, I do– I do. I love you– you make me– so happy. So happy.” Jesper was arching beneath him, breath coming hard and fast. “Say it, say you make me happy. Say I’m gonna love you forever.”

Something tugged painfully in Wylan’s chest, and he opened his mouth to say the words, but only a sob came out. Jesper’s eyes shot open. 

“Wy? Sweetheart?”

Wylan’s thighs gave out and he tried to swallow another sob, but a dam deep inside of him had broken and he couldn’t stop. Jesper sat up and gathered him close, lifting him off of his cock and holding him tightly. 

“Baby. Baby, it’s okay. I’ve got you." 

Wylan wrapped his arms around Jesper, digging his fingernails into broad shoulders with the desperation of his grip. Jesper pressed his lips to the top of Wylan's head and made soothing noises, repeating in a whisper, I’m here, I’ve got you . A long moment passed that way, Wylan choking on his sobs, Jesper running his hands over Wylan’s back. 

"Talk to me.” Jesper's voice was gentle, but it was unmistakably a command.

Wylan shook his head. “Make you happy,” he managed between sobs. “Love me… forever. Hurts.” He buried his face in the front of Jesper’s shirt, careless of the damage his tears might be doing to the violet silk. 

“Hey. Why does it hurt? Do you mean it hurts saying that, or that I hurt you too much?” Jesper’s hand trailed down to touch the thigh he had slapped, fingers lingering on where he had pinched it earlier. 

“No. No, I wanted– you didn’t.” Wylan wished he could stop bawling like an idiot. He hadn’t cried like this since– Ghezen, it must have been years. Since he’d been alone in the Barrel, after he’d escaped the boat. Since he’d realized that there was no one alive who loved or even cared about him. Why, why would Jesper’s words provoke the same response?

He knew why, of course. Because he made Jesper happy now, but for how long? Because Jesper loved him so, so much, and it would destroy Wylan when that love went away. Because in the end, he would never feel like he was good enough.

Jesper kissed the top of his head, stroked long fingers through his curls, the other hand now firmly gripping his thigh. “I’ve got you, love. I’m not letting go,” he murmured. “What I wanted you to say– was it too much?”

Wylan nodded. 

“I’m sorry.” Jesper’s arms tightened around him and Wylan nuzzled his face deeper into his chest until he could feel a button making an imprint in his cheek. Wylan breathed in the familiar scent of him and swallowed hard, trying to stop crying. Something about being squished so close helped to loosen the knots inside his chest. “I’m sorry, Wy. You don’t have to say anything. You’re still so good and I’m so proud of you.”

That tore another sob from him. “Why are you proud of me? Why? I- I can’t even do this without freaking out and crying and–”

“No, love, that’s not how it works. Remember in the beginning when we first talked about me being in charge sometimes? How it would be as much about me taking care of you as you doing what I ask?” His voice was low and smooth and reassuring. 

“You do take care of me. You do, Jes,” he insisted, sniffling. “I’m the one who– it was good and then I ruined it.”

“If everything was good, you wouldn’t be upset. Can you tell me why it hurt, saying those things?” Wylan couldn’t lie to him. He found the words spilling out.

“I’m not good enough, I’m never good enough and maybe–” he took a deep breath– “maybe I make you happy now, but I won’t always and I can’t bear it , Jes. I know I should just enjoy this time and be happy and in love and let you love me and it’s stupid of me to ruin it but I just… you’re the only person who’s ever loved me this way. I don’t know how I can go on once you realize--" his chest heaved as he filled his lungs. 

"Once I realize what?" Jesper asked, his voice low and worried.

"How incredible you are and how you keep growing and getting more wonderful and I’m still just– me.” He felt strangely light and dizzy. Jesper held him tight. 

“You are good enough,” he said fiercely. “No, don’t argue, because you’re wrong. You say I’m growing and getting more wonderful and you’re just you, but Wylan… don’t you see that you’re the reason I’ve been able to grow in the first place? You, loving me, believing in me, pushing me to keep up with your brilliant mind and your schemes and the future you see for us. You’re the reason I am the man I am today. Because of your trust, your faith in me.”

Wylan was silent for a moment, soaking in his words. 

“You stopped gambling, learned business, went to Novyi Zem, trained, all of it… for me?” he faltered, his voice scratchy. 

“No, Wy. I did it for me because you finally made me feel like I deserved to try.” Jesper loosened his hold to reach between them and tilt up Wylan’s chin so that he could look into his eyes earnestly. “You make me feel like I can be more than just a failure. Like I must be, because someone as sweet and clever and gorgeous as you can love me and forgive me despite all the times I’ve fucked up. Do you remember what you said when I first brought up going home and learning to use my abilities?”

Wylan shook his head mutely, unable to look away from those beautiful gray eyes gazing at him like he was worth something– worth everything. He bit his lip.

“You told me my Ma would be proud. That you would be proud. You didn’t doubt, for a second, that I could do it. You didn’t ask me not to leave. You didn’t remind me that I could have done it years ago. You just… you believed in me, and you were proud of me, and you understood exactly what it would mean to me to learn.” Wylan blinked back more tears to clear his blurry vision. 

“You’re not just good enough ,” Jesper whispered, his voice full of emotion. “You’re good for me. You make me a better man.”

Wylan reached up with shaking hands and ran his fingertips over Jesper’s lips. Jesper kissed them softly, and it made Wylan melt inside. 

“I love you,” Wylan said quietly, and Jesper rested his forehead against his. 

“And every day that love gives me the courage to keep going. You're it for me, Wy. There is nothing I want that you can’t or won’t give me. Nothing that could make me stop loving you.”

“Oh,” Wylan said softly, uselessly. 

“Yeah,” Jesper agreed. “Oh.”

They held each other then, for long minutes. Wylan shivered a little from the sweat cooling on his skin, and Jesper reached down to pull the sheets over them. 

“Tell me what you want, baby. Do you want to be done for tonight?”

Wylan shook his head, took a few deep breaths. “I want to make you come.”

“Are you sure? Right now, all that’s important to me is taking care of you.”

Wylan shook his head harder. “You said you’d give me what I need, and what I need is for you to hold me down and make love to me and come inside me and, and–” his voice faltered and he had to clear his throat. “And keep telling me those things. And maybe I won’t believe them, maybe I can’t quite believe them yet, but…it matters. Hearing them. Knowing.”

“One condition, all right, sweetheart?” Jesper drew the backs of his fingers down Wylan’s cheek. 

“Mmm. Yeah?” Wylan tried not to worry that he’d asked for too much. He tried to trust Jesper’s love. Something still felt tight and cold in his chest. 

“I’m not going to hurt you or scold you or tell you what to do. There’ll be other times for that. I need to show you how much you mean to me right now. I…” Jesper trailed off. “This is important. To me.”

Wylan nodded. “I just need–” he swallowed and stopped. 

Jesper waited a moment, then prompted him gently. “Do you need to feel like I'm still the one in control? Like you’re safe? Like you’re treasured?”

Wylan nodded, blinking back more tears. One escaped and Jesper kissed it off the curve of his cheek and then drew back to look deeply into Wylan’s eyes. 

“Then that's how it will be. That’s the most important thing to me, you know that, right? That you feel happy and loved?”

“Me too,” Wylan whispered. “That’s how I want to make you feel, every time.”

Jesper kissed him so sweetly and tenderly that he moaned and tangled his fingers in Jesper’s sleeve. 

“You do,” he breathed against Wylan’s mouth. “Every single time. And I can’t get enough.”

When Jesper drew away, it was to pull his clothes off with little care to where he tossed them. He pulled Wylan back into his arms, skin to skin. 

“Can– can I be face down, this time?” Wylan asked quietly. “What I said, what we said– it was a lot. I need to–”

Jesper was nodding. He stroked Wylan’s curls and Wylan leaned into the touch. “I know talking isn’t easy, sweetheart. It means so much to me that you did.”

Wylan began to turn onto his stomach, but Jesper caught him. “Not so fast. You need to get me hard again so I can take you the way you need me to. And I want kisses.” 

Wylan found himself smiling as he tilted his head up to press his lips to Jesper’s. The kiss was slow and sweet and grounding, and he let himself sink into it, his hands coming up to lightly trace Jesper’s braids with his fingertips and caress the sensitive skin behind his ears to make him shiver. Jesper’s hand cupped the back of his neck again as he deepened the kiss. I love you , Wylan thought as Jesper kissed him like he was irresistible. He breathed in the scent of Jesper’s skin and pressed his body closer. I love you, I love you. Jesper's hands on him tightened unconsciously and Wylan could feel the heat stirring back to life low in his abdomen and at the base of his spine. 

"Want you," he breathed, and Jesper moaned into his mouth. 

"I want you too, always." He leaned back far enough to capture Wylan's eyes in his. Wylan looked back for a moment that seemed to last lifetimes, searching for the reassurance he needed and finding it. Finding it.

Wylan trailed a hand down Jesper's chest and stomach to gently stroke his cock, softened from the long pause in their activities. Jesper's long intake of breath at his touch and the way his eyes slid shut was beautiful. Wylan savored the way he could feel Jesper's cock thicken in his grip and the slide of the skin over the firming length. 

"Wylan," Jesper murmured, his voice catching in his throat. "You're so sweet. Taking such good care of me." Wylan twisted his wrist just the way Jesper liked it and Jesper gasped and moaned before continuing. "And I'm gonna take the best care of you. Make you feel-- yeah, like that-- so good."

Wylan wished he had the power to articulate what he felt right now, the vast and terrifying ache inside his chest. He longed to tell Jesper how every word, every kiss, every touch of skin to skin, warmed him in ways that nothing else could. But he didn’t have the words; there was nothing in any of the three languages he could speak that came close.  

I want kisses, Jesper had said, so Wylan kissed him and stroked him to full, throbbing hardness before whispering a command of his own.

"Take me. Show me."

Jesper looked at him, and the tenderness in his eyes made something in Wylan's chest tighten. Strong, deft hands guided him onto his stomach, bending his left knee underneath him to tilt his hips up just right. 

"Hold me down," Wylan whispered. "I need to know. Need to feel it."

Jesper kissed the nape of Wylan’s neck and then touched his shoulders, stroking down his arms to his wrists, then wrapping a strong hand around each and pressing them down with the weight of his body.

“Like that?” he asked, and Wylan nodded. Then Jesper began to press into him once more, and the stretch felt so good that a full-body shiver went through him. He arched into it, letting a sound of relief fall from his lips because yes, this, this. Jesper slowly slid in to the hilt with a deep, blissful sound. “You feel so perfect,” he gasped. “Always.” 

Jesper rested his forehead between Wylan’s shoulder blades and breathed for long moments. Then, when Wylan had relaxed around him entirely, he began to move. Jesper didn’t need to be rough to wreck him completely, not this time. Not when their earlier activities had made him so sensitive that the friction left him shaking. Not when Jesper was using his flawless aim to hit all the best places inside him mercilessly with each stroke. 

"I love you," he whispered, and Wylan squeezed his eyes shut and made a helpless sound. "You're enough for me, Wylan. You're so much more than enough."

Wylan trembled, feeling the tears start to spill from beneath his eyelids again. Jesper's lips brushed over his shoulder blade. 

"You're so good for me, my love. I need you. I need to be with you. Let me have you, sweetheart, let me have all of you." Jesper filled his body over and over, hot and thick and good.  "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I don't know what I’d do without you. I don't know who I'd be." He could hear a roughness in Jesper's voice, as if he were holding back tears as well.

He pushed against Jesper’s hold on his wrists to feel it tighten and whimpered when it did. He never, ever wanted him to let go. 

“I need you so much,” Wylan whispered. “There aren’t words. Just you. Holding me. Please, Jes.”

Hard, fervent kisses on his shoulders, a soft nuzzle between his shoulder blades. The steady rhythm of being taken, made love to, skin on sweat slick skin. The words Jesper whispered– “I need you too. I need to hold you. To be held by you. You are the best thing in my world.”

How could he be? How could Wylan Van Eck be the best thing in anyone’s world? But somehow he was and it filled him with something nameless and brilliant and almost painful. He arched back against Jesper, making a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a breath of relief. 

“I love you,” Jesper told him, stopping the even thrusts and grinding deep. 

“Jes. Jesper, I love you too, please don’t stop.” Though this felt good too, so good. Wylan whimpered. 

“Listen to me. I love you. And I’m never going to stop loving you for as long as I live.” He drew out, thrust. “Because you deserve –” another thrust– “to be loved.”

It was not something he’d ever believed about himself, but Jesper said it as if it was an incontrovertible fact. As if every morning, the sun rose and the tide came in and Wylan Van Eck deserved to be loved.

“You make me better in every. Fucking. Way,” Jesper swore, taking him faster, harder. Wylan’s toes curled. Each time Jesper bottomed out in him, a desperate sob of joy broke from his throat. It was exactly what he needed, exactly what he wanted. It was too much and it hurt and he never wanted it to end. Jesper’s words tangled up with the sharp ache and the intense, cresting pleasure inside of him. He could barely tell which was which. 

“Jes,” he gasped. “I want to come, I need to–”

“Come,” Jesper said, voice strained, sounding close to the edge himself. “Make yourself come for me.”

He released Wylan’s right hand and with a moan of relief, Wylan reached for his cock. He stroked himself frantically, crying out, eyes squeezed shut, face pressed into the pillow. Jesper’s hand found his hip and pulled him back hard into the next thrust and that was it.

Jes!” It burst through him like electricity down a lightning rod, his entire body flaring brilliant with sensation. His release shot from his body hard, spasm after spasm, until he could feel the hot stickiness of it on his chest and running down his hand.

“Fuck, Wy, oh sweetheart, fuck, fuck ,” Jesper gasped, sounding utterly overwhelmed as he emptied himself into him in quick, uneven thrusts. Breathing hard and shaking, Jesper pulled them both over to lie on their sides, back to front. 

Wylan ached all over, exhausted and deliciously well-fucked. His thigh muscles burned and his throat and ass were sore. His wrists would bear bruises tomorrow from Jesper’s grip that he would be unable to stop running his fingers over. His scalp felt tender from his hair being pulled, and he was absolutely filthy, covered in his own come, with Jesper’s trickling slowly out of him. 

The constant anxiety in his mind had gone silent. All he could hear was his heartbeat and his breathing and Jesper’s. 

“I love you so much it feels like I might die from it,” Jesper murmured, and Wylan made a low, contented sound deep in his throat. 

“Love you,” he breathed, and muscles he hadn’t known could relax any further melted, leaving him utterly limp in Jesper’s arms.

It was nearly half an hour before they stirred themselves to get up, wash, and change the sheets. As always after an evening like this, Jesper fussed over him in ways that made him melt, gently touching and kissing his skin, telling him how good he’d been, and insisting he drink water. But Wylan could see the tiredness and strain in his face, and when they had lain down again in clean sheets, Wylan pulled him close. 

“I don’t think I’m the only one who needs comfort right now,” Wylan said quietly. “I know that what I did, not telling you…”

Jesper’s arms tightened around Wylan and he tucked his face into Wylan’s neck. “Yeah.” He was silent for a long moment, just breathing. He was holding Wylan almost but not quite too tightly. Wylan smoothed a hand over the back of Jesper’s neck.

“You made me hurt you tonight,” Jesper said finally. “Not physically. I know what your limits are there. But asking me to take control without being honest about why….”

“I’m sorry,” Wylan began. 

“Let me finish, love. This isn’t a scolding, it’s me asking you for what I need, all right?”

Wylan nodded. Years of demeaning tirades from his father had taught him to lash out or shut down entirely at anything that felt like criticism. The words Jesper had just used were ones they’d worked out together: a reminder that this wasn’t about guilt for wrongdoing but about something important that needed to be talked about. 

It helped. It also helped that even when Jesper did get angry about something, he didn’t nurse that anger to bring up again later on. Wylan was still working on that himself, if he was being honest about it. He’d grown up with every argument devolving into a shouting match that dragged up each argument before. The concept of a fight ever being truly over was one he was still adjusting to. 

“I need you to be honest about what you need from me.” Jesper looked up at him and there was regret in his eyes. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have done the wrong thing.”

“You did everything perfectly,” Wylan told him quietly. “You always do. I wasn’t honest; you’re right.”

Jesper sighed and shut his eyes for a moment, his hand wandering up to thread through Wylan’s hair. “I don’t want you to ever feel anything but safe when you’re in bed with me. And you didn’t, tonight, and that tears me apart.”

Wylan was lost for words, but he pulled Jesper closer and began to pepper little kisses over his face. Jesper made a sound of surprise, then laughed faintly and angled his face so that Wylan could kiss more of it. 

“I’m always safe with you,” Wylan whispered as he kissed the worry lines on Jesper’s forehead until they smoothed over. “Always. No matter what.”  He kissed down to the tip of Jesper’s nose. “You did give me what I needed, you know.”

“I did?”

“Yes. You did.” Wylan kissed the corners of his lips, his chin, the line of his jaw. He kissed the tiny scar beneath his left eyebrow and the handful of barely-visible freckles on his cheeks. He kissed Jesper’s temples and the soft, fine wisps of hair along his hairline. Slowly, he felt the tension leave Jesper’s shoulders and hands. 

“Thank you,” he whispered finally. 

They rarely slept holding each other, preferring each other’s comforting presence next to them to the unromantic reality of stray elbows, stiff necks, and arms going numb. But tonight, once they had each settled in on their side of the bed, Jesper slipped his hand into Wylan’s beneath the blankets and Wylan felt something in his heart glow warm.

Tomorrow would be one more day waking with Jesper beside him, still his. One day would follow another, days of shared thoughts and stolen kisses and terrible puns. The sun would rise and the tide would come in. And someday, Wylan dared to hope, there would come a morning when he woke with Jesper’s steady breathing beside him and the belief that this, this was how he deserved to be loved.