[He smirks, a fleeting satisfactory expression across his face as he hears that rumbling, because it's different. It's a contented thing, a purr of confirmation that Pietro is pleasing him. And when that thought actually registers in Pietro's mind, he sucks in a breath and his stomach tightens violently. Fuck. This isn't what he wants to be arrogant and smug about, but he is. He growls to himself, far less of a purr and more of a quiet snarl as he presses harder against Wash's thigh, shifting to a whine once Wash's hand is in his pants. Wash is too close and hot, right against him again, and that rumbling reverberates within him, making Pietro moan quietly despite himself.
It's followed immediately by an irritated noise at that praise, an automatic need to classify it as condescending. Still, he leans into that harsh tug at his hair, he welcomes that kiss, just as hard and brutal with it, fighting for control he doesn't entirely want, but needs to cling to, whining again more insistently when those fingers are wrapped around his cock and squeezing, constant pressure that increases so slowly it has him squirming impatiently. Pietro moves his hand from Wash's belt to his hip, digging his fingers in hard.]
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It's followed immediately by an irritated noise at that praise, an automatic need to classify it as condescending. Still, he leans into that harsh tug at his hair, he welcomes that kiss, just as hard and brutal with it, fighting for control he doesn't entirely want, but needs to cling to, whining again more insistently when those fingers are wrapped around his cock and squeezing, constant pressure that increases so slowly it has him squirming impatiently. Pietro moves his hand from Wash's belt to his hip, digging his fingers in hard.]