[Pietro makes a pleased noise that ekes its way out of his throat like an exhale. Wash can try to muffle his sounds, but he feels them against his skin right along with the biting and sucking, penetrating as much as the bruises Wash is leaving behind. He isn't testing or prodding at Pietro like before, having gathered his information that first time, and Pietro grasps that shift, the further lean into possessive behaviour, the urge to claim obviously more present, and he still takes pride in that, the fact that this man wants him so badly he needs to mark again when the evidence has faded. The corner of his lips turn up into a smirk and his throat works like he might want to laugh, but can't. He thumbs the head of his cock, running his nail through leaking precum while he can still coordinate his fingers enough.
The physical sensations build and Pietro focuses on them individually before he gets too overstimulated to enjoy that — his own hand on his cock, the scrape of the brick against his back, the uncomfortable position of his hips that allows for the perfect angle, the force of Wash's cock slamming deep into his ass, reigniting the fiery crackling of his nerve endings at still-sensitive places inside him from their last encounter, and the way Wash manhandles him so easily, with no care for how he might break. Because he won't, not physically. Wash tightens his grip around his neck, fingers slowly pressing harder over Pietro's throat, keeping him pinned against the wall, tongue drifting into his mouth agonisingly slowly. Pietro would whine for it, more of it, if he could make any noise at present besides choked gasps for air as his lungs start to burn.]
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The physical sensations build and Pietro focuses on them individually before he gets too overstimulated to enjoy that — his own hand on his cock, the scrape of the brick against his back, the uncomfortable position of his hips that allows for the perfect angle, the force of Wash's cock slamming deep into his ass, reigniting the fiery crackling of his nerve endings at still-sensitive places inside him from their last encounter, and the way Wash manhandles him so easily, with no care for how he might break. Because he won't, not physically. Wash tightens his grip around his neck, fingers slowly pressing harder over Pietro's throat, keeping him pinned against the wall, tongue drifting into his mouth agonisingly slowly. Pietro would whine for it, more of it, if he could make any noise at present besides choked gasps for air as his lungs start to burn.]