[ that surprises him. even if he can see it coming, to an extent, sense the difference in his eyes those few moments of quiet, that genuine consideration. everything wash has seen before has always been primarily colored by his defiance. clear signs of something else running beneath that, deep and true, but always pulled back, always hampered by whatever small thing he can do to attempt to claw back even the tiniest fragment of control. that stubbornness is still there, bold and bright, but something else, too. a desperation, a want, a need. a desire to find out what else could be. and still, even when wash can see it, he expects to get a laugh and a challenge, and instead he gets an answer, breathless, simple.
interesting.
pietro might be able to see it, too. that hunger in his eyes seeming to sharpen, to flare up for a moment just with the thought of possibility, a twist of heat and arousal twisting through him so hotly and suddenly that his cock throbs and twitches noticeably still buried inside pietro's ass. realistically, he knows here in the back alley of jolene's, there's not much else he can do past push him to the brink like this over and over, and maybe that's good, too, the slow breaking and shattering that only comes with bringing someone so close to an edge over and over that the boundary blurs and disappears altogether. but god. there's so much more he could do. ]
Yes. [ wash echoes it, not agreeing himself or mocking it, just -- an echo. considering, thoughtful, but that want and lust and hunger evident in his rumbling tone, almost a purr as he pours over the possibilities in his mind. he pushes his hips against his ass, a brief shove of pietro's back against the brick wall again as he tangles his fingers through his hair -- not a sudden yank, but just a slow, steady increase as he twists the strands through his hand. the more he talks, the more his words almost start to slur into each other, thick and heavy with lust and want, almost like he's letting instinct and desire drive what he's saying more than anything else. ] You want to come home with me, Pietro? You want to let me use you any way I want?
[ a sharper thrust of his hips as his cock slowly starts to harden again, even while pressed inside him, still sensitive. that come-covered hand against his throat squeezes, just a little. enough to punctuate his words. a heated murmur he'd said before ringing in wash's own memory, about how he could keep him, break him on his cock again and again and again, the echoes of that underneath his words now. ]
no subject
interesting.
pietro might be able to see it, too. that hunger in his eyes seeming to sharpen, to flare up for a moment just with the thought of possibility, a twist of heat and arousal twisting through him so hotly and suddenly that his cock throbs and twitches noticeably still buried inside pietro's ass. realistically, he knows here in the back alley of jolene's, there's not much else he can do past push him to the brink like this over and over, and maybe that's good, too, the slow breaking and shattering that only comes with bringing someone so close to an edge over and over that the boundary blurs and disappears altogether. but god. there's so much more he could do. ]
Yes. [ wash echoes it, not agreeing himself or mocking it, just -- an echo. considering, thoughtful, but that want and lust and hunger evident in his rumbling tone, almost a purr as he pours over the possibilities in his mind. he pushes his hips against his ass, a brief shove of pietro's back against the brick wall again as he tangles his fingers through his hair -- not a sudden yank, but just a slow, steady increase as he twists the strands through his hand. the more he talks, the more his words almost start to slur into each other, thick and heavy with lust and want, almost like he's letting instinct and desire drive what he's saying more than anything else. ] You want to come home with me, Pietro? You want to let me use you any way I want?
[ a sharper thrust of his hips as his cock slowly starts to harden again, even while pressed inside him, still sensitive. that come-covered hand against his throat squeezes, just a little. enough to punctuate his words. a heated murmur he'd said before ringing in wash's own memory, about how he could keep him, break him on his cock again and again and again, the echoes of that underneath his words now. ]