One of Asher's hands is holding Sasha up but the other one can be yanking his hair, and Asher's still really good at kissing.

He tries walking while carrying Sasha. 

"You're," he says into Asher's mouth, and then forgets what was going to come after it — "You, you've got me, Asher Asher please —" 

In defiance of all previous evidence, Asher says, "can't give you what you want unless you say what you want," and bites his shoulder.

"You — Asher please — clearly can —" 

Asher tosses him on the bed and lands on top of him. (He's agile enough that the bed gets most of the impact.)

"That's true but I want to hear you say it."

"Asher please fuck me," all in one breath. 

"Then get your clothes off."

Following his own good advice, Asher pulls off his pants.

He can take his hands off of Asher long enough to do that. 

"Fuck, you're beautiful."

Asher stares, reaches out, and touches Sasha like he's a work of art that he's afraid he will break.

He hisses through his teeth at the touch. Doesn't close his eyes; the way Asher is looking at him reignites that warm wanted-glow. 

"Can I--"

Asher wraps his mouth around Sasha's cock. 

"Everything" is a term which apparently includes blowjobs.

Sasha arches up and buries his hands in Asher's hair.

"Please yes please —" 

He's moaning around Sasha's cock as if it's his own cock that's being sucked. 

He tries to keep his hips still and fails — Asher's mouth is so good, it's been way too long since he slept with someone who was good at sex — "Asher, Asher please, you've got me, Asher —" 

Asher pulls off, says "you can fuck my mouth, I've got you," and goes back to sucking with great enthusiasm. 

"You've got me," he agrees, and then he stops holding himself back — he taps Asher on the shoulder when he can feel himself getting close, tries to warn him — 

Before Sasha taps his shoulder Asher stops, holds him very very still inside his mouth, pulls off sloooooowly, and says "I thought you said something about fucking?"

"— yeah," he says, when he can form actual words, "yeah, I did." 

Asher grabs some lube from the side table and puts one finger into Sasha's ass. His other hand is idly stroking Sasha's cock, lightly, nothing that would make him come. 

And there goes his ability to form words. 

From the perspective of someone from the Isle, Asher is excruciatingly slow and careful in preparing Sasha. He makes sure Sasha is very relaxed and ready to take him. He pauses to kiss him, to play with his cock, to run a hand down Sasha's chest. 

He doesn't let Sasha come. 

He's twitching on Asher's fingers after what is, from Asher's perspective, barely any time at all. 

"Stop teasing — Asher please —" 

"If you ask so nicely," Asher says. He leans over Sasha and kisses him and pushes his dick inside him in a single movement.  

(His dick is, naturally, huge.)

He clings to Asher and moans desperately into his mouth — it's been so long since he felt this full —

Asher grabs him and fucks him hard in a steady rhythm and speaks a stream of incomprehensible French that definitely has a few "adore"s floating in it somewhere.