When Yussa's hips begin rolling down, grinding against his mouth, Caleb becomes especially pliant, offering his tongue to rub off against and moving where Yussa directs him. Though his knees are starting to twinge a little from time spent against the hard floor, it is a distant feeling, and he puts it far from his mind. His arousal too, warm and thrumming beneath his skin, but not a focus. Allowing Yussa to use him, becoming a tool for his pleasure, takes up the entirety of his attention, and it is blissful.

Though it is everything he's been working toward, it almost feels as though Yussa's orgasm happens too soon. Caleb would gladly gladly do this for twice as long--an hour, the rest of the night. But he may be in luck; one thing he's always envied about people with this arrangement of anatomy is their ability to come again and again without the kind of rest in between rounds that he needs. If Yussa is at all interested, Caleb will make him come as many times as he wants to tonight.

Still, the adrenaline-fueled excitement and pure satisfaction that sink through him when Yussa presses hard against him at the moment of his peak is second to nothing. A soft, eager whine lingers in the back of Caleb's throat as his lover's grip goes slack. He keeps the brush of lips and tongue gentle as he works him through it, taking a firm grip on his thighs to make sure Yussa stays on his feet.