Erosion was a slow but steady process, something that you don't notice at first but eventually the dripdripdrip carves out a space in your bones and the next thing you know you're shaking apart on the desk of a man you're not supposed to like let alone lo-- Fuckfuckfuck. It was never supposed to be like this, but Jasper doesn't know if he can bring himself to care. Not when he has Bishop fucking him so perfectly against the desk, when the feel of the lace on his skin is perfect and he wants the other to know that it really is just him that has frequented Jasper's bed for the last few months.

(And Baein, but he doubts that would surprise Bishop at all.)

Jasper keens as the pace increases and he knows that it's not going to be long at all before he is making a mess of the paperwork all over the desk. Every nerve ending is on fire, lighting him up from the inside out and turning his brain to static except for the way he breathes Bishop's name like a prayer. There is nothing else but the pleasure that he is given and the warmth of Bishop pressed so close against him and--

"Fuck, I'm gonna come, please just-- fuck!" It's the soft words he barely registers, the push and the feeling of being filled so fucking perfectly that has Jasper coming with a shout of a curse. He feels like a livewire as he shakes apart, orgasm seeming to draw itself out as he writhes as much as he can being pinned between Bishop and the desk. Honestly, it's a place he doesn't really want to leave.