[He can feel it, that shudder that ripples slowly through Wash, Pietro got to him, and he does have enough coherency in his thoughts to be pleased with himself over it. And to be frustrated when Wash wrests control back right away, making him whine loudly in protest before his cock is down in Pietro's throat again, cutting off that noise, and he can't breathe, choking wetly as the vibration of his tongue stutters and dies. His fingers scrape hard against the concrete and he can feel the bloom of blood under his nails. Pietro loses his hold on things mentally, only able to concentrate on Wash fucking his mouth, the pain in his throat and his jaw, the tight hold in his hair that sends heat down his chest and makes his cock twitch hard. Wash moves his hand, and Pietro squirms with a mix of desire and trepidation as those fingers trail down to his throat and slowly apply force. Pietro can't help the reflexive responses, his throat working constantly, struggling for air and against the internal and external pressure. It all feels raw and forceful and Pietro's eyes start to roll before he catches himself instinctively and focuses on breathing even as he chokes and wheezes, and finally lifts his hand off the ground to force it between his thighs, shifting as much as he can almost desperately, and gets his fingers wrapped around his cock.]
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