[ both of pietro's legs are wrapped around his waist, now, and wash makes some low pleased sound at that, possessive and wanting all at once, taking the smallest moment in his unfaltering rhythm to adjust how he has him held in his arms in response to that change of position and make sure he's hitting him as hard and deep as he wants. he would step away from the wall just to hold him in his arms, force pietro to hold onto nothing but him -- but he doesn't want to let up on the pressure around his throat, wants to keep pushing this.
for as much as wash may have learned over their first time together, wash is never one to rest on his laurels, and there's always more to chase. every twitch and sudden spasm is followed by wash adjusting himself more, aligning himself to that newest sensory overload. he presses even closer when pietro closes his eyes, almost molding their bodies against each other, pressing his forehead to pietro's own, letting his own eyes fall shut. ]
-- You're so good. [ a breathless murmur, heated against pietro's lips, words slightly slurred between his ragged breaths a ripple of tension runs through his arm, noticeable even under pietro's trembling grip, as he starts to ramp up that pressure even harder around his already bruising throat. ] How hard do I have to choke you to make you fucking come from it, Pietro? We're gonna find out --
[ his grip tightens a little over his throat, just for a moment, a ripple of tension that quickly flickers back into the more steady increasing pressure. its a promise. an enticement. he starts to increase that grip again, starting to squeeze more and more air from him, and his other hand actually slips from pietro's against the wall, just to loop under his thighs, steady him better as he ruts forward hard. wash isn't kissing him, this time, but he's more than close enough to feel all of his sputtering breaths and gasps as he starts to choke him even harder. tighter, harder, throttling him more, little by little, until he can find the bright burning edge. ]
no subject
for as much as wash may have learned over their first time together, wash is never one to rest on his laurels, and there's always more to chase. every twitch and sudden spasm is followed by wash adjusting himself more, aligning himself to that newest sensory overload. he presses even closer when pietro closes his eyes, almost molding their bodies against each other, pressing his forehead to pietro's own, letting his own eyes fall shut. ]
-- You're so good. [ a breathless murmur, heated against pietro's lips, words slightly slurred between his ragged breaths a ripple of tension runs through his arm, noticeable even under pietro's trembling grip, as he starts to ramp up that pressure even harder around his already bruising throat. ] How hard do I have to choke you to make you fucking come from it, Pietro? We're gonna find out --
[ his grip tightens a little over his throat, just for a moment, a ripple of tension that quickly flickers back into the more steady increasing pressure. its a promise. an enticement. he starts to increase that grip again, starting to squeeze more and more air from him, and his other hand actually slips from pietro's against the wall, just to loop under his thighs, steady him better as he ruts forward hard. wash isn't kissing him, this time, but he's more than close enough to feel all of his sputtering breaths and gasps as he starts to choke him even harder. tighter, harder, throttling him more, little by little, until he can find the bright burning edge. ]