[ It would take a complete idiot to not figure out what Poe's trying to say, what he's trying to ask for. And in spite of what many people in the galaxy might say, Peter Quill is not a total idiot.
But that doesn't mean that he gives Poe what he wants, and he keeps his hands just as they are – one curled around the hard blade of Poe's hip, the other tight around Poe's wrists as he struggles. (There are going to be long, dark bruises there, Peter knows, stark against Poe's skin. They'll look good on him, Peter thinks; he's sorry he won't be able to see them when they're settled in.)
For now, Peter keeps fucking him, keeps hitting that sweet spot, over and over and over, listening to the way Poe moans and whines and shouts with need.
His hand leaves Poe's hip after what probably seems like hours for Poe, but rather than take pity on the guy, Peter reaches for Poe's good shoulder, pulling him up to press Poe's back to Peter's front. He keeps Poe's arms trapped between them, one arm around Poe's chest like a vise, and his other hand smooths over Poe's stomach. ]
God, you're perfect.
[ And he groans it against Poe's shoulder, nosing at the line of his jaw. ]
Fuck, look at you, so fucking desperate. So fucking perfect—
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But that doesn't mean that he gives Poe what he wants, and he keeps his hands just as they are – one curled around the hard blade of Poe's hip, the other tight around Poe's wrists as he struggles. (There are going to be long, dark bruises there, Peter knows, stark against Poe's skin. They'll look good on him, Peter thinks; he's sorry he won't be able to see them when they're settled in.)
For now, Peter keeps fucking him, keeps hitting that sweet spot, over and over and over, listening to the way Poe moans and whines and shouts with need.
His hand leaves Poe's hip after what probably seems like hours for Poe, but rather than take pity on the guy, Peter reaches for Poe's good shoulder, pulling him up to press Poe's back to Peter's front. He keeps Poe's arms trapped between them, one arm around Poe's chest like a vise, and his other hand smooths over Poe's stomach. ]
God, you're perfect.
[ And he groans it against Poe's shoulder, nosing at the line of his jaw. ]
Fuck, look at you, so fucking desperate. So fucking perfect—