Yussa doesn't quite stop trembling as Caleb keeps after him. He presses his lips together like he means to silence himself, but it does little to stop the whine in the back of his throat as Caleb works him through one orgasm and very quickly toward a second. His entire body is taut, teetering on the razor's edge of release. He has not attempted multiples in the intervening time, and somehow it's simply more satisfying to get them from someone else. From Caleb, whose enjoyment in giving pleasure is intoxicating.

Through the haze of his afterglow bleeding into another rising peak, it occurs to Yussa that perhaps he should put less pressure on Caleb's head, but he trusts the younger man to make him aware if he can't properly breath. And Caleb is stronger than him, he shouldn't have a real struggle to pull away if that's what he needs.

Unthinking, he gives a gentle pull, attempting to guide Caleb's mouth back to his clit. The stroke of his thumb is lovely, but Yussa wants something... warmer. Wetter. A different sort of finesse.

"That's it," he whispers, voice tight. "Let me feel your fingers, sweet boy."