Quentin isn't shy about using his powers, but it's when they're having sex that he most often connects their minds this way. As a consequence, the back and forth between them where sensation blurs together has become something Kyle takes as the norm and looks forward to as part of the act.

Kyle smiles and kisses back. "I try." He props himself up on his elbows, forearms against the mattress on either side of Quentin's head. He shifts his weight and pulls his hips back slowly, pausing again before he rocks forward again.

That's good, that's so good hot tight good, want you.

Kyle gradually lets his body settle into a steady rhythm. Less coherent that his verbal thoughts, Kyle projects a disjointed series of images: Quentin's fingers digging into his back, Quentin crying out, Quentin shaking beneath him. Want to fuck you just right find the right angle want you fucking ecstatic.

His own body is hot, building pleasure like an electric charge.