[ Poe snorts out a short, amused sound, but miraculously, he doesn't snipe back. It helps that having Peter pressed against him, hovering over him, satisfies something he can't name, but it sits warmly in his chest, beneath the blinding need that Peter's been stoking for what already feels like forever.
(Poe's impatience really makes it hard to tell how long Peter's been messing with him already, but if asked, Poe would absolutely say it was ages.)
He's distracted by the return of Peter's mouth, and he tenses with every dig of Peter's teeth, every hot drag of his tongue that he knows promises marks galore. He's not going to complain about whatever bruises and hickeys he comes away with – and he'll probably privately enjoy looking at them later.
... Weird that there's some sort of sentimentality when he thinks about any reminders he's taking with him. Poe's never really felt like that before.
He has even less leverage with the persistent angle Peter is holding Poe's arms, keeping them in a place that practically makes it annoyingly impossible for him to rock back without straining his shoulders – but that doesn't mean he won't keep trying. The growl catching in his throat is far more a whine than he'd like to admit, and again, he flexes and tests Peter's hold, his body instinctively trying to squirm. ]
I can tell— [ As he pants, his voice still wrecked. ] I can tell how much you want it.
[ He can feel how hard Peter is. ]
Just— c'mon.
[ The whine is a proper one this time as he bites down on his bottom lip. ]
no subject
(Poe's impatience really makes it hard to tell how long Peter's been messing with him already, but if asked, Poe would absolutely say it was ages.)
He's distracted by the return of Peter's mouth, and he tenses with every dig of Peter's teeth, every hot drag of his tongue that he knows promises marks galore. He's not going to complain about whatever bruises and hickeys he comes away with – and he'll probably privately enjoy looking at them later.
... Weird that there's some sort of sentimentality when he thinks about any reminders he's taking with him. Poe's never really felt like that before.
He has even less leverage with the persistent angle Peter is holding Poe's arms, keeping them in a place that practically makes it annoyingly impossible for him to rock back without straining his shoulders – but that doesn't mean he won't keep trying. The growl catching in his throat is far more a whine than he'd like to admit, and again, he flexes and tests Peter's hold, his body instinctively trying to squirm. ]
I can tell— [ As he pants, his voice still wrecked. ] I can tell how much you want it.
[ He can feel how hard Peter is. ]
Just— c'mon.
[ The whine is a proper one this time as he bites down on his bottom lip. ]