[ wash has taught about this in the time since that eventful might at this same establishment -- how could he not, when the memories are so easy for him to revisit, when he can close his eyes and see it all play out crystal clear. he'd pushed pietro further than he'd been pushed before, he knows, pressed him to a point where he was no longer comfortable or knew what to do, very nearly forced him to reckon with some deep-seated wants within himself, and clearly, given that he's back here again, he'd left marks that seared deeper than the bruises and bites. but wash knows and understands that he'd been pushed that night, too, that much about pietro had drawn him in -- and he understands himself a little too well to be blame that entirely on the aphrodisiac-laced smoke. there's something about this. there's something about him. and god, he wants to push him there again.
pietro might almost be able to feel it, how that hunger is present but -- runs deeper, hits at something primal and raw, just like how all his movements come with a renewed intensity as he benefits from memory. pietro clamps tight around his cock and wash moans, half-hiding the sounds against the crook of pietro's shoulder between kisses and bites, already starting to bruise and mark him all over again. if anything there's an increased ferocity and possessiveness to it now, like now that he's seen those marks faded away, he damn well wants them to stay.
he fucks him hard and fast, one hand still braced against his throat. his other tight over his hip, occasionally sliding down to his thigh just so he can move him how he wants. angling him back into position and pushing him back into place any time pietro might slightly slip against the wall or jolted out of position wash's rutting thrusts, wash moves him back, knows exactly how he wants to fuck him, how deep, how hard. slowly his other hand shifts until pietro's head is forced back against the alley wall, his hand wrapping around his neck, fingertips scraping the brick.
a different time, a different person, wash might give his warning again. but he doesn't, especially when pietro so immediately lifted his hand to his forearm. pietro knows. pietro remembers. and just like before, wash leans in to kiss him, tonguing surprisingly slowly into his mouth as he starts to tighten his grip over his throat. not enough to push him to that edge just yet, but more than enough for him to choke and sputter especially in combination with wash's invading tongue, more than enough to feel his throat jump and struggle under his grip. ]
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pietro might almost be able to feel it, how that hunger is present but -- runs deeper, hits at something primal and raw, just like how all his movements come with a renewed intensity as he benefits from memory. pietro clamps tight around his cock and wash moans, half-hiding the sounds against the crook of pietro's shoulder between kisses and bites, already starting to bruise and mark him all over again. if anything there's an increased ferocity and possessiveness to it now, like now that he's seen those marks faded away, he damn well wants them to stay.
he fucks him hard and fast, one hand still braced against his throat. his other tight over his hip, occasionally sliding down to his thigh just so he can move him how he wants. angling him back into position and pushing him back into place any time pietro might slightly slip against the wall or jolted out of position wash's rutting thrusts, wash moves him back, knows exactly how he wants to fuck him, how deep, how hard. slowly his other hand shifts until pietro's head is forced back against the alley wall, his hand wrapping around his neck, fingertips scraping the brick.
a different time, a different person, wash might give his warning again. but he doesn't, especially when pietro so immediately lifted his hand to his forearm. pietro knows. pietro remembers. and just like before, wash leans in to kiss him, tonguing surprisingly slowly into his mouth as he starts to tighten his grip over his throat. not enough to push him to that edge just yet, but more than enough for him to choke and sputter especially in combination with wash's invading tongue, more than enough to feel his throat jump and struggle under his grip. ]