[ Poe is so absorbed in how Peter fucks him, so completely tuned into the unrelenting thrust of his fingers, until suddenly—
Peter stops.
Poe’s caught by surprise, a ragged, certainly embarrassing whine rising in his throat for the loss. Fuck, he feels empty, but his whole body is thrumming with pleasure (edging on too much too much without getting to come), and with Peter’s instruction, it’s hard to resist.
Mostly because the more conscious part of him is pretty sure that tone of voice promises Poe won’t be missing Peter for long.
It takes him a second to get his body into gear, and he brings his arms down, still heaving for breath like he just ran a mile in under seven. His legs feel like jelly, but he manages to shift onto his side, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees. He takes the moment of pause to adjust his weight, to find a more comfortable spacing for his hands, making sure his legs feel braced under him. He’s good, he’s great, he’s fine, except his abandoned dick is throbbing with the kind of urgency that demands attention. He just— needs something to saw off the edge, something to ground him a little more.
He rests his weight on a forearm, reaching back and down to palm his cock, shuddering immediately with the acuteness of the contact. Peter had been touching him a lot, sure, but his dick has gone thoroughly unattended, as much as Poe is writhing with need. ]
no subject
Peter stops.
Poe’s caught by surprise, a ragged, certainly embarrassing whine rising in his throat for the loss. Fuck, he feels empty, but his whole body is thrumming with pleasure (edging on too much too much without getting to come), and with Peter’s instruction, it’s hard to resist.
Mostly because the more conscious part of him is pretty sure that tone of voice promises Poe won’t be missing Peter for long.
It takes him a second to get his body into gear, and he brings his arms down, still heaving for breath like he just ran a mile in under seven. His legs feel like jelly, but he manages to shift onto his side, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees. He takes the moment of pause to adjust his weight, to find a more comfortable spacing for his hands, making sure his legs feel braced under him. He’s good, he’s great, he’s fine, except his abandoned dick is throbbing with the kind of urgency that demands attention. He just— needs something to saw off the edge, something to ground him a little more.
He rests his weight on a forearm, reaching back and down to palm his cock, shuddering immediately with the acuteness of the contact. Peter had been touching him a lot, sure, but his dick has gone thoroughly unattended, as much as Poe is writhing with need. ]