"You're perfect," Jedao whispers, without at all interrupting the kiss, rocking against him though he can't quite bear yet pulling out enough to thrust properly. He's been alone for so long, and Fives is so warm and tight and strong and giving. Jedao could be drunk on just the sounds he's making, could savor the feeling of his clumsy young kiss for a year.

You're mine and you're perfect, he thinks, but doesn't say, even though he treasures it in his secret heart.

He shudders and surges, encourages every uncertain lurching in Fives' kiss, and finally punctuates it by drawing back and then fucking into him again.