When Yussa finds a position that works for him and begins fucking down against him with increasing need, it isn't long at all before Caleb is moaning freely under him, barely awake and already helplessly aroused. His heavy gaze rakes hungrily up and down Yussa's form, visible in the moonlight despite the latticework shadows cast over his skin. From his thighs splayed wide around his hips, tense as he uses them to bounce in his lap, to his cock parting his flushed folds and disappearing inside his cunt, to his hips and stomach and small breasts and the graceful line of his throat, lips parted as he can't help the sounds that escape him. Caleb only wishes he could erase the distressed crease between his brows, ease whatever worry he feels.

"I'm here," he says, breathless but firm. He hopes it conveys what he means--that he's going to take care of Yussa as long as he needs it, that he doesn't have to be alone, and that he is going to help him find out what caused this and fix it. Grasping his hip and the nape of his neck, he lifts his own hips from the bed to rock up into him as he feels him start to tighten, trying to find that angle he wants right along with him. "It's all right," he repeats, "let me help you feel good. I love feeling you come, liebling, you know that I do."