Yussa clings to him with the conviction of a man who knows exactly what he wants. Encouraging gasps fall hot over his lips, his legs wrap tight around his waist, and Caleb can feel the sharp pain of short, blunt nails digging into his back. Caleb's rhythm stumbles and he chokes on his breath. He should pull out, because even if Yussa has urged him to fuck his come into him once already, they still haven't talked about this. But the opportunity to do so is dwindling as quickly as his desire to follow through. Gods, fuck, affirmation is good enough for him. Yussa obviously has made up his mind, and he is telling Caleb with every enthusiastic moan and tremor of muscle in his legs, his arms, his core.

Caleb rolls his hips and fucks with a renewed certainty deep into his sweet wet heat. Even if he wanted to pull out, he would have to break Yussa's determined embrace around him. He isn't going to do that. His brow rests against Yussa's, their breath mingles, lips sliding together and apart in not quite kisses. He loses himself in the pleasure of soft walls clenching around his cock, Yussa's tight, perfect cunt trying to milk his orgasm out of him. He's hardly aware of the mumbled words spilling from him in a stream-of-consciousness combination of Common and Zemnian.

"Yussa, gods, you feel so good coming on my cock, I love making you feel good--fuck, you really want me to come inside, don't you? I am so close for you schatz, I'll fill you up like you want, you are so perfect--oh fuck--"

He pushes urgently into Yussa once, twice more before a cry tears from his chest and he lets go, spilling deep inside his lover's warm, welcoming body. Moaning softly, Caleb thrusts shallowly through his release, pressing fervid kisses up the side of Yussa's neck and along the ridge of his long, pointed ear.