[ as wash settles and breathes more of the outside world creeps back in -- the sound of the bar muffled through the door they came through, traffic, passers by outside the alley. that's the opposite of what he wants, too close to reawakening the side of him that's always on the lookout, wary and cautious. they may have different reasons to seek things out, but end of the day what wash wants for himself is a different kind of oblivion, the kind that comes from pure and utter focus.
so he shifts. recenters himself on pietro, his heat, scent, taste, the weight of him in his arms, the rippling reassure around his cock, the whisper of a voice that escapes from his throat, a faint curse, the familiar whining sounds he's learned, that unsteady, shaking touch.
wash likes pulling at his hair, the reactions it always gets from him, likes the way it feels to have those strands sifting between his fingers, so even if he needs to take extra care to support his weight properly while doing so he keeps doing it. a sharper tug, his free hand dropping briefly down between them to palm crudely over pietro's still-sensitive cock, streaking his hand with come, moving up to drag over what pietro had spilled between both of their stomachs, rising and falling with their ragged breaths. ]
-- You know. [ a low rumble on his voice, murmured against peitro's lips between another sharp nip, a dip of his tongue into his mouth to taste him again, brief but hungry. ] I can keep doing this for you. Much as you want.
[ that come-slick hand lifts straight to his throat again, uncaring about the mess, just to emphasize the point, lifting his gaze to meet pietro's own, sharp and intense under lidded eyes. ]
no subject
so he shifts. recenters himself on pietro, his heat, scent, taste, the weight of him in his arms, the rippling reassure around his cock, the whisper of a voice that escapes from his throat, a faint curse, the familiar whining sounds he's learned, that unsteady, shaking touch.
wash likes pulling at his hair, the reactions it always gets from him, likes the way it feels to have those strands sifting between his fingers, so even if he needs to take extra care to support his weight properly while doing so he keeps doing it. a sharper tug, his free hand dropping briefly down between them to palm crudely over pietro's still-sensitive cock, streaking his hand with come, moving up to drag over what pietro had spilled between both of their stomachs, rising and falling with their ragged breaths. ]
-- You know. [ a low rumble on his voice, murmured against peitro's lips between another sharp nip, a dip of his tongue into his mouth to taste him again, brief but hungry. ] I can keep doing this for you. Much as you want.
[ that come-slick hand lifts straight to his throat again, uncaring about the mess, just to emphasize the point, lifting his gaze to meet pietro's own, sharp and intense under lidded eyes. ]
But you know there's more I could do.