[ Poe's hips keep futilely bucking against Peter's hand, his whole body tense as heat rockets up his spine, filling every nerve down to his fingertips. It's hard to focus on whatever Peter's saying now, impossible to summon up anything to contribute that isn't a babbled string of curses and growls as his heel kicks and slips over Peter's sheets in effort to find purchase – either to lessen the intensity of the stimulation or push towards it; it's hard to tell. ]
Peter.
[ That's one of the more coherent things Poe manages as he pulls at his wrists, groaning and clenching his teeth so tight his jaw practically creaks. One thing he will never try to deny about Peter, even teasingly, is that he's definitely good at this. Maybe infuriatingly so, sometimes, but he knows what the hell he's doing. Poe can appreciate that there's something more comfortably familiar about fucking another human, but that doesn't usually change much about how Poe picks his partners; species is all well and good, but Peter at least knows how his body works.
no subject
Peter.
[ That's one of the more coherent things Poe manages as he pulls at his wrists, groaning and clenching his teeth so tight his jaw practically creaks. One thing he will never try to deny about Peter, even teasingly, is that he's definitely good at this. Maybe infuriatingly so, sometimes, but he knows what the hell he's doing. Poe can appreciate that there's something more comfortably familiar about fucking another human, but that doesn't usually change much about how Poe picks his partners; species is all well and good, but Peter at least knows how his body works.
And he completely knows how to exploit it, too. ]