[For long minutes, Pietro feels the press of Wash's fingers, the drag of them as they move to tilt his head up more, and when Wash's mouth is on his, Pietro moans softly, accepting that tongue eagerly, and exhaling a huff of a noise once it's pulled away. The rumbling voice is so close to his mouth and Pietro bites his tongue to keep from shoving it in Wash's mouth as he speaks, opting to stare him down instead as he backs off.
Once Pietro isn't crowded against the back of his chair anymore, he has a moment of indecision, furrowing his eyebrows and shaking his head slightly before he gets up, hand on the back of the chair to steady himself as he almost trips over his own foot. He looks down at it, wondering where he left his shoes, he doesn't even remember taking them off. But it's not important, he's doing something here.
Wash is looking at him with that same intense hunger, waiting, for however long Pietro has just been standing there, probably half a second, but it feels like much longer to him and his face burns with the heat of embarrassment or the alcohol, he'd can't tell. He abruptly refocuses, pushing past Wash and heading for the green room in the back. Only it's not exactly a private place either, and any of the musicians could come through at any moment, people he knows. Pietro sighs irritably to himself and shifts direction in the middle of the hallway to exit a side door instead, it opens to an alleyway near the fire escape. It's not private either, but he expects it's less likely for someone to come wandering out from the bar or in from the street than he does someone walking into the green room. He steps further out into the alley and turns back to Wash, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow, his tone irritated and somewhat disgruntled, unsettled. He shifts his weight and tries not to fidget too much.]
We will do it here.
[He manages some level of command in it, but he clearly isn't at his best.]
no subject
Once Pietro isn't crowded against the back of his chair anymore, he has a moment of indecision, furrowing his eyebrows and shaking his head slightly before he gets up, hand on the back of the chair to steady himself as he almost trips over his own foot. He looks down at it, wondering where he left his shoes, he doesn't even remember taking them off. But it's not important, he's doing something here.
Wash is looking at him with that same intense hunger, waiting, for however long Pietro has just been standing there, probably half a second, but it feels like much longer to him and his face burns with the heat of embarrassment or the alcohol, he'd can't tell. He abruptly refocuses, pushing past Wash and heading for the green room in the back. Only it's not exactly a private place either, and any of the musicians could come through at any moment, people he knows. Pietro sighs irritably to himself and shifts direction in the middle of the hallway to exit a side door instead, it opens to an alleyway near the fire escape. It's not private either, but he expects it's less likely for someone to come wandering out from the bar or in from the street than he does someone walking into the green room. He steps further out into the alley and turns back to Wash, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow, his tone irritated and somewhat disgruntled, unsettled. He shifts his weight and tries not to fidget too much.]
We will do it here.
[He manages some level of command in it, but he clearly isn't at his best.]