Orym breathes in slowly at the press of a third freshly slicked finger against his stretched rim. Will is careful and attentive, of course, but it still goes in easier than he expected. He tilts his head to touch Will's where it rests on his shoulder. His soft panting easily becomes a gasp. His boyfriend's praise makes heat curl in his belly as surely as the drawn-out thrust of his fingers, the way he rubs familiar callouses along his walls in a way that's both perfect and maddening so soon after coming.

"Fuck, it's so much," he hears himself whine, voice pitched soft and raspy. "So good."

A hand slips down to squeeze his wet cock where it's gone mostly soft against his belly, then further, over the tender swell of his balls and between his splayed legs. His fingertips brush the oiled muscle at his entrance where it spreads wide, clenching around Will's knuckles. Will's fingers hold him open and press deep inside him, spreading him more, all to ease him into this pliant, receptive state that he wants so badly. That they both want. Far from shrinking away, he craves the stretch. The ache of it is sweet and exhilarating.

His abs and thighs flex as he raises his hips to rock against the slow thrusts, showing Will how he wants it. "C'mon," he whispers, breathless and heated. "I know your cock is bigger than this. Fuck me so I can take it, Will."