[Pietro gets his release, but not entirely, stimulation continues in the wake of his orgasm, Wash driving into him deep, hot come splattering inside him, the trail of the knife. He breathes heavily as Wash breaks the kiss to move over his jaw, rough fingers still wrapped around his cock and stroking, not allowing it to become completely flaccid. His abdominal muscles twitch and he tries to still them as Wash carves out another shallow steady line, pain sparking more readily while Pietro is oversensitive to it. And in the midst of that, Pietro clings to that pleased and satisfied sound Wash makes when his growls get quieter, lets his pride seep into it and claim it for his ego.
Wash drags the knife against his thigh, and Pietro whines despite his efforts not to. The knife is retracted then and he makes a huffy discontented noise as Wash squeezes his thigh and forces him forward to lean his weight against his chest. Pietro shifts and starts to bring his hands back in front of him, but Wash is in the way, biting at his lip, and he gives up half-way through, hands shaking, muscles in his arms twitching. He moans quietly when Wash gets his mouth on his throat, a slight purr of his own that's far less effective. Wash's sticky fingers grip at Pietro's other thigh as he's lifted from the wall completely, his muscles tense even as he squirms slightly to balance himself better. They're almost in the bedroom before Pietro makes a disgruntled noise and all attempts at helping Wash hold him easily shift to frustrated fidgeting and insistent tugs on the belt.]
Are you going to let me down?
[It's irritable and somewhat demanding, but it's not his real question, there wouldn't be as much apprehension underneath the tone in it.]
no subject
Wash drags the knife against his thigh, and Pietro whines despite his efforts not to. The knife is retracted then and he makes a huffy discontented noise as Wash squeezes his thigh and forces him forward to lean his weight against his chest. Pietro shifts and starts to bring his hands back in front of him, but Wash is in the way, biting at his lip, and he gives up half-way through, hands shaking, muscles in his arms twitching. He moans quietly when Wash gets his mouth on his throat, a slight purr of his own that's far less effective. Wash's sticky fingers grip at Pietro's other thigh as he's lifted from the wall completely, his muscles tense even as he squirms slightly to balance himself better. They're almost in the bedroom before Pietro makes a disgruntled noise and all attempts at helping Wash hold him easily shift to frustrated fidgeting and insistent tugs on the belt.]
Are you going to let me down?
[It's irritable and somewhat demanding, but it's not his real question, there wouldn't be as much apprehension underneath the tone in it.]