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The door clicked shut, and silence wrapped the room — heavy, electric, waiting to break.
Est barely had time to inhale before his back hit the wood, William’s mouth claiming his in a kiss that felt less like a greeting and more like a storm breaking. Heat, teeth, breathless need — it stole every word from him. Tongues clashing until Est gasped into him, the protest caught and swallowed whole.
“William—” he tried, muffled against lips that refused to let him go. He tilted his head, trying to pull back, but William only followed, kissing down his jaw with rough determination.
“I told you—” Est’s voice caught on a sharp inhale when teeth grazed the arch of his throat, “—to stop calling me beautiful.”
“I can’t stop.” William’s voice was a growl against his skin, each word punctuated by a kiss, a scrape, a bite. “You’re too fucking beautiful, Phi.”
Est shivered, hands braced against William’s shoulders in a push that wasn’t strong enough to matter. His chest rose in uneven breaths, his body betraying him with every tremor. William’s lips moved lower, deliberate, slow, open-mouthed heat pressed against sensitive places.
“Beautiful,” whispered into the hollow of his throat.
“Pretty,” murmured against the sharp line of his collarbone.
“Perfect,” breathed as lips brushed the swell of his chest.
Est’s breath stuttered. He wanted to snarl, to shove him off — to say the word that would put space between them — but his body betrayed him, leaning into the heat. William’s hands slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, calloused palms flattening against his stomach, dragging upward in a slow, reverent sweep. The rough warmth of his touch made Est’s protest catch in his throat.
William didn’t strip the fabric away. He lingered there, fingers tracing the lines of his ribs as though committing them to memory, thumbs brushing sensitive skin until Est trembled.
Then his mouth followed. Slow. Unhurried. Lips closed around a nipple through the thin cotton, dragging wet heat over it until Est arched with a strangled sound. He moved to the other side, repeating the torment, sucking until Est was squirming, biting back noises that slipped through anyway.
William leaned back a little, eyes dark, lips wet, the look on his face raw enough to make Est’s chest ache. “Look at you,” he whispered, voice reverent. “So pretty it hurts.”
“You’re not listening,” Est panted, eyes fluttering shut, fighting for control. “I said—”
“—that you’re not beautiful?” William cut in, smirking up at him, voice low and rough. “Then I’ll just have to prove it until you believe me.”
The words cut deeper than any touch, leaving Est caught between fury and a heat that spread like wildfire under his skin. That falter — that pause — was all William needed.
Strong arms hooked beneath Est’s thighs, lifting him clean off the ground. Est’s startled cry dissolved into a gasp, legs locking instinctively around William’s waist.
“William!”
“Bedroom,” William rasped, voice thick, commanding. “If I’m going to worship you, Phi, I’m not doing it against a wall. You deserve better.”
The words worship you struck harder than any kiss.
“Y—you don’t have to—” Est stammered.
“I want to,” William said fiercely, carrying him down the hall. “I want to show you. To prove it.”
He was laid on the bed with reverence, William’s gaze never breaking from his. “Mine,” William whispered, kissing his temple, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. “My beautiful Phi.”
When William laid him on the bed, it wasn’t rough — it was reverent, like he was lowering something sacred. His eyes never left Est’s face, his hands never stopped touching, tracing along his sides as if confirming he was real.
“Mine,” William whispered again, pressing a kiss to his temple, his jaw, his lips.
Piece by piece, he undressed him — not tearing fabric away, but drawing it out, lips following each inch of skin revealed. He kissed Est’s wrist as he tugged the sleeve down, kissed his shoulder when the shirt slid free, kissed his knee as he eased pants away. By the time Est was bare, his skin burned with the ghost of every kiss, every whispered vow.
William knelt between his legs like a supplicant, eyes raking over him slowly. “You don’t see it, do you?” he whispered. “You don’t know how perfect you are.”
His lips traced Est’s ribs, lingering there, whispering, “Pretty skin.”
Across his stomach, a soft kiss. “Beautiful body.”
Lower, against the sharp jut of his hipbone, teeth scraping gently. “Perfect Phi.”
Est’s thighs quivered, his chest rising and falling too fast. Every kiss was slower than the last, drawn out until he was shaking with anticipation.
When William’s mouth finally closed around him, it was unhurried. He didn’t rush, didn’t overwhelm — he lingered . Tongue tracing, lips pulling, taking him inch by inch as if the act itself was worship. Every sound William made — low moans, whispered praises — vibrated against his skin.
“Pretty.”
“Beautiful.”
“Mine.”
Est’s hand fisted in William’s hair, his body bowing helplessly, torn between pushing him away and dragging him closer. His protests dissolved into broken gasps, pride unraveling under the weight of pleasure drawn out too long, too deep.
Release crashed through him — but William didn’t stop. He kissed the inside of his thighs, his hip, his stomach again, repeating the same litany with every kiss until Est was trembling with oversensitivity, his chest heaving.
By the time William stripped the last of his own clothes, Est was already undone.
“Not finished,” William breathed, voice ragged as he stripped the last of his own clothes away. “Not nearly finished.”
And when he finally slid inside, it wasn’t with force — it was with reverence. Slow, steady, deliberate, stretching Est until nails dug into his back. His pace never rushed, each thrust deep but measured, paired with words like vows.
“Look at you,” William whispered, his voice breaking on the words. “So beautiful like this. So pretty when you take me.”
He didn’t move right away. He kissed Est’s mouth, his cheek, his throat, whispering against his skin:
“Mine.”
“My Phi.”
“My beautiful Phi.”
When he finally began to move, the rhythm was deliberate — long, deep thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in slowly, letting Est feel every inch. Each stroke was paired with a kiss somewhere new: his shoulder, his jaw, his ear.
Est gasped, moaned, tried to cling to defiance. “Handsome—” he choked out, trembling.
“Yes,” William groaned, hips snapping deeper, mouth dragging over his ear. “Handsome. Strong. But more than that. You’re the most beautiful thing ever."
He slowed again, burying himself deep, holding still, kissing down Est’s throat as his hands smoothed along his sides. Worship didn’t stop just because he was inside — if anything, it deepened. Every kiss, every whispered word pressed into Est’s skin like devotion carved into stone.
“Say it,” William whispered, voice shaking as he thrust again, slow but consuming. “Say you’re beautiful.”
Est was trembling beneath him, body wound tight, breath hitching on every drag of William’s hips. The pressure was building too fast, too sharp, his hands clutching at William’s shoulders like he was drowning.
“W–William—” he gasped, his voice breaking.
William felt the way his body clenched, the telltale tremors racing through him, and slowed his thrusts to a crawl. He pulled almost all the way out, pausing to kiss Est’s temple, his throat, his chest, before sliding back in with aching care.
Est let out a broken sound — frustration, desperation. His hips jerked, trying to chase the rhythm, but William held him still with strong hands.
“Not yet,” William whispered against his ear, his voice low, reverent. “I’m not letting you fall apart until you believe me.”
He rolled his hips just enough to make Est whimper, then stilled again, his mouth brushing over his jaw, his shoulder, his lips.
“Say it,” William murmured, thrusting deep and slow, pulling a raw cry from Est’s throat. “Say you’re beautiful.”
“I’m not—” Est tried, the denial dissolving into a moan when William pressed in harder, deeper. His nails dug into William’s back, his chest arching as if his body had already betrayed him.
William’s teeth scraped his jaw, his lips murmuring, “You are. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever touched.” Another thrust, sharper. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever loved.”
William groaned, hips moving with unrelenting precision, keeping Est teetering on the edge without letting him tip. Each time Est’s breath caught, each time his muscles clenched in warning, William pulled back just enough, kissing him through the desperation.
“Look at you,” he whispered, voice frayed. “So beautiful like this. So pretty when you beg.”
“Please—” Est broke, his voice a wrecked whisper, half-plea, half-sob.
That was the crack William had been waiting for. His rhythm shifted — still deep, still deliberate, but faster now, driving into him with worship in every movement.
“Beautiful,” he groaned. “So pretty when you beg”
The words cracked him open. Est broke with a strangled cry, climax tearing through him, his whole body trembling as pleasure consumed him. His nails raked down William’s back, his voice unraveling into helpless moans.
But William didn’t follow.
He held still inside, groaning against Est’s mouth, his body shuddering with restraint. He kissed him through the aftershocks, swallowing every whimper as Est squirmed beneath him, oversensitive, twitching with every shift of William’s hips.
“William—” Est choked, breathless, “don’t stop—”
“You’re done, Phi,” William whispered, forehead pressed to his. “I don’t want to hurt you—”
Est’s hands clung tighter, dragging him close, thighs trembling as they locked around his waist. “Don’t you dare pull out,” he gasped, voice shaking but fierce. “Not until you come too.”
William groaned, undone by the plea, by the stubborn desperation in Est’s voice. His control snapped, and he started to move again — slower at first, careful not to push too hard against Est’s raw nerves, but Est only pulled him closer, refusing to let him go.
“Please,” Est whispered, voice frayed. “I want it. I want all of you.”
William’s rhythm faltered, breaking into something rougher, more desperate, every thrust pulling a whimper from Est’s oversensitive body. He kissed his face, his throat, his mouth, murmuring praise against every moan.
William’s release shuddered through him, every groan swallowed into Est’s mouth until he finally stilled, heavy and trembling against him.
For a long, breathless moment, there was nothing but the sound of their hearts, pounding in sync, sweat cooling on their skin. Est’s chest rose in uneven gasps, his nails still etched into William’s shoulders, his legs weak around his waist.
He should have pulled away. That would have been the merciful thing. But William didn’t move — couldn’t move. He stayed buried inside, forehead pressed to Est’s, lips brushing over damp skin.
“Still think you’re not beautiful?” he whispered, voice rough, almost tender.
Est groaned, too spent to argue, hiding his face against William’s chest. He didn’t say handsome. Didn’t say anything at all.
William smiled faintly, and instead of letting the silence fall, he began again — slower, softer this time. His lips pressed to Est’s temple. Then his cheek. His jaw. His throat. Each kiss paired with the same words, spoken like vows.
“Beautiful.”
“Pretty.”
“Mine.”
Est shuddered, oversensitive, his body twitching under the gentle press of William’s mouth. “W-William… stop… too much…”
But his hands didn’t push him away. They clung, weak but desperate, fingers curling in William’s damp hair as if he couldn’t bear distance.
William only hummed, kissing down his chest, over the bite marks he’d left on his nipples, soothing them with his tongue. He kissed his stomach, the faint tremor of his ribs, the curve of his hipbone. Then lower still, pressing reverent kisses to the insides of Est’s thighs — not teasing for arousal now, but marking him with devotion.
“You’re sacred to me,” William whispered against trembling skin. “Every part of you. Every breath.”
Est whimpered, his thighs quivering, but he didn’t stop him. He couldn’t. He only covered his face with his hands, too raw and overwhelmed to handle the words, but unwilling to silence them.
William kissed his way back up, slow and lingering, until he was stretched over Est again. He gathered him into his arms, pulling him close until their chests were pressed together, his lips brushing Est’s damp hair.
“You’ll never convince me otherwise,” he murmured. “No matter how many times you say handsome, no matter how many times you fight me. You’re mine. My Phi. My beautiful, beautiful Phi.”
Est let out a shaky exhale, eyes closing, his body melting into the warmth that surrounded him. He was wrecked, oversensitive, too exhausted to fight — but safe. Held. Worshipped.
And William, even as his own body trembled with the weight of release, kept kissing him. Slow. Soft. Tireless.
The worship didn’t end when the sex did. It never would.
The morning light spilled through the curtains in slow, golden streams, softening the edges of the room and painting the tangled sheets in warmth. The air carried the faint scent of sweat and skin, the remnants of the night heavy in the quiet.
Est stirred first, lashes fluttering as he blinked against the brightness. His body felt heavy, worn in the way that spoke of too many hours spent yielding to William’s relentless devotion. Muscles ached, his skin was tender in places he didn’t dare think about too long, and heat crept across his cheeks at the memory.
William’s arm was slung low and possessive around his waist, pinning him with casual ease against a chest that rose and fell in deep, steady breaths. His warmth radiated, trapping Est in a cocoon that was equal parts comforting and suffocating.
For a long moment, Est didn’t move. He lay still, listening to the quiet, the faint rustle of curtains, the rhythm of William’s heartbeat steady against his ear. It should have been peaceful. It almost was. When William began moving, Est, with a small huff and a smirk tugging at his lips, broke the silence.
“Last night doesn’t change anything,” he muttered, voice rough from sleep but smug all the same. “I’m still handsome, not pretty.”
The chest beneath his cheek rumbled with a low laugh, deep and lazy. William’s voice came rough with sleep, but the smugness was all too clear.
“You’re beautiful, Phi Est.”
Est groaned and rolled his eyes, shoving weakly at the arm across him. “I’m serious.”
“And so am I.”
Before Est could wriggle free, William shifted — rolling them with lazy ease until Est was flat on his back, wrists pinned above his head with one hand. William hovered above him, hair mussed, his grin boyish in the morning light but his eyes still dark, still carrying the intensity of the night before.
“You’re beautiful,” William said again, firmer this time, his thumb brushing over Est’s knuckles as if to soothe the restraint. “Always.”
Est squirmed beneath him, cheeks heating as William’s gaze bore down on him, unrelenting. He tried to glare, tried to muster indignation, but the memory of every kiss, every whispered word from last night clung too close to his skin. “You’re impossible.”
William leaned down, brushing his lips along Est’s jaw, then lower, to the corner of his mouth. His voice dropped, teasing and dangerous.
“Careful, Phi. Keep disagreeing with me, and I’ll just have to give you a repeat performance of last night. And I’ll make sure the neighbors hear you again.”
Est froze, blush spreading hot across his face. “I—I wasn’t that loud.”
William chuckled, lips ghosting against his throat. “You were. Beautiful sounds. You begged so sweetly.” He nipped lightly at Est’s jaw. “Want me to remind you?”
Est’s breath caught. He twisted his face away, glaring at the ceiling as if it could save him. “You wouldn’t dare.”
William’s smile curved slow, dangerous, unbearably fond. His gaze softened even as the promise in his tone sharpened.
“Try me.”
Est’s blush deepened, the memories flashing hot and raw through his mind — his body trembling under William’s voice, the way he’d broken apart over and over. He turned his face into the pillow, muttering so low it was barely audible, “You’re insufferable.”
William laughed softly, finally releasing his wrists. He flopped back down beside him, dragging Est firmly against his chest again, face pressing into his hair.
“Maybe,” William admitted, lips brushing the crown of his head. “But you’re mine. Handsome, pretty, beautiful — all of it. And I’m never going to stop telling you.”
Est stayed stubbornly quiet, though the blush hadn’t faded from his cheeks. His lips twitched upward anyway, betraying him. He let William’s warmth anchor him, let the teasing sink into the haze of morning.
William noticed, of course. His smug grin widened against Est’s hair. “See? You like it.”
Est groaned, hiding further in the pillow. “Shut up.”
William chuckled, kissing him again, softer this time. “Beautiful,” he whispered. A vow. A promise.