Fives jerks and shudders helplessly through his orgasm, barely even breathing as the whole world fades to nothing but Jedao's body beneath him and the heat spreading under his skin, setting every nerve ablaze. He's almost sobbing with the intensity of it, and his hips work in small, disjointed circles against Jedao's ass as it finally starts to trail off into aftershocks.

It's so fucking good, so perfect, and he mouths almost lazily at Jedao's back, the taste of sweat mingling with the blood in his mouth as his world slowly expands again, to encompass more than Jedao's body beneath and around him and the sweet, heavy lethargy that's starting to weight him down after two god damn amazing orgasms in short order. It's only then that he registers Jedao's continued buzzing tension, the slurred obscenities, the fact he'd never managed to so much as get a hand on his cock, and he stiffens as the implications start to seep through the fog that feels like it's shrouding his brain.

He shudders once, and sucks in a sharp, pained breath. He doesn't even know what to say, how to apologize for the clearly massive disappointment he's made of himself. It's god damn humiliating, and he curls down against Jedao's back like he's trying to hide there.