Professor Eichel's hand ruffling through his hair is such an affectionate gesture, especially when compared to everything else; Jade isn't sure what to make of it. So he simply ignores it, pressing himself close, still on hands and knees as he climbs into Professor Eichel's lap.

The first touch of Professor Eichel's hand against his skin is enough to draw a shaky moan from Jade. His hand fists at the bedsheets as he tries to hold himself still, trying to resist the all-consuming urge to press his hips backwards and force Professor Eichel's fingers to sink into him. He can be patient. Disciplined. This is just another of Professor Eichel's games - or lessons, it's hard to tell the difference between them - he just has to bear with it until Professor Eichel decides to indulge him properly.

He's vaguely aware of Professor Rammsteiner's presence, hovering at the periphery of his vision. Every fiber of his body aches to join him, to be fucked and bred until every single egg inside him is properly tended to.