[ wash likes that little purr, anyway -- and does let pietro down. nicely, deliberately, enough control over his weight to set him down onto the bed, and for as sterile and almost too well kept the rest of wash's apartment is, the bedroom might be even more so. wash settles himself on the bed, too, between pietro's still-spread thighs, watching him with quiet satisfaction as he twirls the knife idly in his hand again, the metal catching light as it moves between his fingers. he lifts the other hand to his mouth, wet with pietro's come, licking some of it off -- not deliberately, slowly, but definitely doing it to be seen, tongue wrapping against his own thumb before he settles his hand back over his thigh.
he is still, of course, making no move to release his wrists. ]
no subject
he is still, of course, making no move to release his wrists. ]