[ it's a moment that wash can sense, can feel -- not quite able to connect it to something as specific as forgetting, but he does know that there's something pietro has been striving to reach all this time, that they've come close, brushed against it, reached it for moments at a time, that pietro is the one who seems to mostly hold himself back, unable to let go as much as he needs. but there's something here, a moment where pietro shudders beneath him, and his eyes seem to roll back, his thoughts going with it, when he gives himself over.
and wash takes it. seizes onto it with a hunger and want, the intensity of his focus all driving him towards this. he understands instinctively that whatever pietro was looking for, they'd reached it before, but it's here now -- and that means that all he's here to do is to make it last. he actually slows down slightly, something he hasn't tended to do very often with pietro, every movement deliberate and purposeful. his thrusts are still hard and sharp, jolting his body against the bed, but he makes sure that every roll and angle of his hips is exactly where he wants it. that grip on his throat is constant, not enough to push him to unconsciousness, but just enough to keep pietro here with him on this knife's edge. pietro has his attention and focus, total and absolute, utterly unconcerned with his own body and physicality except for what he needs to do to push pietro and make him feel the way he wants.
his other hand, pinning pietro's wrist to the bed, finally shifts, letting go -- and immediately moving down between them. his fingers wrap around his cock, squeezing, a nice pressure that's just on the verge of too much, just enough to cause him some pain, some discomfort, just the way wash has learned pietro likes it -- but not enough to distract him too much from everything else. one more sensation to add to the onslaught of everything else, for them all to blend and blur together, to overwhelm him and stretch the moment out for as long as it can possibly last, until it has to shatter and break under its own tension. ]
no subject
and wash takes it. seizes onto it with a hunger and want, the intensity of his focus all driving him towards this. he understands instinctively that whatever pietro was looking for, they'd reached it before, but it's here now -- and that means that all he's here to do is to make it last. he actually slows down slightly, something he hasn't tended to do very often with pietro, every movement deliberate and purposeful. his thrusts are still hard and sharp, jolting his body against the bed, but he makes sure that every roll and angle of his hips is exactly where he wants it. that grip on his throat is constant, not enough to push him to unconsciousness, but just enough to keep pietro here with him on this knife's edge. pietro has his attention and focus, total and absolute, utterly unconcerned with his own body and physicality except for what he needs to do to push pietro and make him feel the way he wants.
his other hand, pinning pietro's wrist to the bed, finally shifts, letting go -- and immediately moving down between them. his fingers wrap around his cock, squeezing, a nice pressure that's just on the verge of too much, just enough to cause him some pain, some discomfort, just the way wash has learned pietro likes it -- but not enough to distract him too much from everything else. one more sensation to add to the onslaught of everything else, for them all to blend and blur together, to overwhelm him and stretch the moment out for as long as it can possibly last, until it has to shatter and break under its own tension. ]