newyorknative | Yes I want you, and that’s the way it is

Entry tags:

fiyero tigelaar : winkieprince

Yes I want you, and that’s the way it is

[ aka wicked ii: lost in new york ]

Fiyero laughs happily as Peter picks him up and spins him. He loves how much happier he's been able to make Peter. How he would never have felt comfortable doing something like that a week ago, but much less would it have occurred to him to do it. Now, the energy is immediately infectious, Peter playful and energetic to match Fiyero with no hesitation. Fiyero also feels fuzzy every time Peter says 'as you wish', knowing the meaning.

They both set about their separate tasks, navigating smoothly around each other, the domesticity of it all overwhelming homely. Fiyero hums along sometimes, whenever he can predict the song well enough, shimmying around the place.

He sets the hardware stuff Peter got aside, and sorts out his clothes, making more organised stacks. Folding things, and also setting aside the things that don't need to be cleaned yet. Trousers he's only worn once, and such. Fiyero's used to laundry being done much rarer, probably, even for princes.

Peter starts doing science stuff, which Fiyero doesn't pay much attention to, but he does notice when Peter unpacks the toys. Oz, the only real question is who's gonna be tied up first. Part of Fiyero wanted to ask Peter to just tie him up and leave him on the bed while he did the science things, but he's still too energetic for it, and Peter has already started.

Eventually Fiyero runs out of clothes to sort, and Peter is vigorously stirring something, so Fiyero goes to watch over his shoulder. It is very... well, hot, actually, watching someone do something so skillfully and also quite passionately. Peter clearly enjoys it, and it's basically magic to Fiyero. He's watching with more and more fascinated interest as Peter starts spooning it into tiny containers. Fiyero's energy has quieted into focus on Peter, not wanting to disturb or distract and mess him up. Peter's proud smile is infectious too, Fiyero beaming. "I take it that's a success?"

It just goes to show what the right person entering your life can do. For both of them, really; Fiyero was a bolt of lightning across the dark sky, and now everything seems permanently lit, the flash imprinted on Peter's eyes. There are the not-so-great things they're dealing with, but there's also this... and they make each other genuinely happy in the middle of all the insanity.

Peter's somewhat zoned out - or rather in - with his task, so he doesn't notice Fiyero coming up behind him until he's just about done. Peter grins, excitedly holding up the little cartridge for Fiyero to examine, full of fluffy white webbing (well, it only looks that way - if he's right it's strong enough to hold him, ergo, very sticky). "Yes! Like textbook perfect, actually. I wonder if that additional part Carbon was the trick to get it that smooth..."

Peter hums thoughtfully, palming the cartridge, flicking off the stovetop, and shaking off the glove onto the counter. He pushes the goggles up to the top of his head, fluffing up his hair something terrible, and darts around Fiyero with a quick kiss to his cheek to dive for his briefcase and dig out the webshooters. The motion is practiced and sure, and if Fiyero has a competency kink... well. Peter flicks out the current cartridge with his thumb, which pops into his open palm - half full, which is evident when it drops down next to the full new one - rolls the new one up between his fingers, and slides it into the device deftly. Another flicks of his thumb to spin it into place and the webshooter whirs, lights popping on to indicate the level of fill in the cartridge.

Pocketing the previous cartridge, Peter shoots a small bit of webbing into his hand, closing his palm over it. Hand effectively stuck to himself, his forearm flexes, muscles taut - trying to open his palm. It doesn't look like it's working, which only makes his smile grow more excited. "Woah. I think it worked!"

Fiyero watches curiously, looking at the tiny thing that Peter uses to swing between buildings. It's weirdly pretty actually. He wonders how hard it is to clean that stuff out of the pot afterwards. Well, Peter has the dissolve thing. Hopefully it's not bad for the pot. (It's funny how many weird practical thoughts Fiyero actually has when he's encouraged to use them, as opposed to just resting in his brainless safety bubble.)

Fiyero doesn't necessarily have a competency kink. It is attractive, definitely, but it's not getting him hot. However, when Peter is confident and smooth about doing stuff related to other kinks? That is very hot. Like watching him tie rope around his wrists, so quick and precise. It really makes him want Peter to just wrap him up in rope. But then, Peter is literally working on the stuff that's going to tie him up. Which makes Fiyero eager to try it. It's amazing just how versatile their dynamic feels, and how either of them only fully falls into a role once they start doing it.

Fiyero follows, huffing happily as Peter sneaks in a quick kiss to his cheek. He watches as Peter tests it, the way his hand seems fully stuck. "Does that mean you want to be tied up first?" Fiyero asks cheekily. He'd certainly have no objection.

Alright, but how hot would it be if they were somehow tied together, both helpless? Impossible to actually achieve - at least fully helpless. At least one of them would need to have some level of freedom still. But they could potentially do something that would make it harder to pull away quickly. Like, if Fiyero's hands were tied in a way he could undo himself, but not in two seconds. Probably just a fun fantasy, but... Well, something to tuck away for later anyway.

Fiyero goes and grabs the dissolver from the table, offering it to Peter. "Here's hoping this still works right? Otherwise you might have to fix that one-handed," he says with a grin. Probably should have tested on something other than his hand, but, here they are. He assumes Peter at least mostly knows what he's doing.

Peter looks up from his excitement at Fiyero's question, eyes widening slightly - as if perhaps he's forgotten what the new web formula is for. Honestly, in the exhilaration of his theory working... maybe he had, a little. The flush that follows is a red stain high in his cheeks, gaze immediately dropping to his fist, the white webbing that presses up between his fingers. "Uh..."

He truly hadn't thought that far ahead. Peter huffs and accepts the solvent, moving back over to the sink. He holds his fist over it, spraying the bottle - there's a light hiss when the substances make contact, but it doesn't appear to be hurting him. Peter squeezes his hand, letting the liquid runs over his fingers, and they slowly begin to loosen as the webbing falls apart, finally leaving his hand completely residue free.

"The extra strength just take a little extra, but it will come off." Peter flexes his fingers, wiggling them at Fiyero before he turns on the tap to run his hand under the water, clearly it entirely.

Peter sets aside the bottle, drying his hand with a quick pass on the kitchen towel, and then he can turn his full attention to Fiyero. He reaches up to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind Fiyero's ear, no doubt shaken loose by his easy dancing around the apartment. "Either is fine by me, baby. But... if you want to tie me up to something other than myself, I need to get out the power tools."

He spares a pointed glance to the metal bars, sitting oh-so-innocuously by the desk. If Fiyero wants to stick his hands to themselves behind his back, sure, but anything else will require something he can't rip apart with his...enthusiasm. But it might actually work... maybe. Actively trying to get out of the webbing was one thing, but the desperation that unlocked by being truly helpless would be a different stress test entirely.

"Can you wait another ten minutes?" Peter teases, slipping his free hand around Fiyero's waist, palm pressing into the small of his back to reel him closer. "Hm, but we did also buy that rope..."

Fiyero can definitely tell Peter had forgotten, and it's utterly charming. It's why he brought it up, really. Not necessarily to make him blush like that - that's a bonus though - but to remind him and bring him back on the right track.

He doesn't press the question of course, watching to make sure the solvent works - and it does. It's nice to see it in action, seeing as he'll have to be doing that to free Peter later on. (Fiyero is making all sorts of considerations in the back of his mind that come with Peter actually being incapacitated.) As soon as Peter is freed, they can go in the shower to clear the rest off, so Fiyero will only need to make sure the restraints snap.

Peter does come back to answer the question though, and Fiyero leans into the touch. He is certainly tempted to just tie Peter to himself the way he had planned. Seems like a long time to sit around waiting while Peter rebuilds furniture.

Of course, this thought process very rapidly changes direction as Peter pulls him close and brings up the rope.

"Well.. Ten minutes is a very long time, and you know I'm very impatient," Fiyero answers, talking in a suggestive way that definitely implies he's encouraging a line of thinking. "Maybe I just can't help myself. You might have to think of something if you want me to leave you alone long enough to work on it."

How could he forget, with Fiyero smiling at him like that, suggestion not just evident in his tone, but the caress of his gaze, too? Peter hums again in consideration, smile quirking the corner of his mouth as Fiyero points out his impatience. Oh, Peter is well aware. He's been sidetracked how many times now, because Fiyero is delightfully impatient and Peter is a total pushover?

"You know, some people say patience is a virtue." Peter brushes two fingers under Fiyero's jaw, tipping his head up. "Sounds like you might need a lesson. Lucky I'm a great teacher then, huh?"

An idea is percolating, and Peter takes the opportunity to kiss Fiyero - warm, excited, full of happiness. That's what today has been - happy. If they can get by with 14 hours of no insanity, Peter will consider it a win. His hands slide, untucking Fiyero's shirt from his pants, fingertips brushing against Fiyero's stomach. Peter tilts his head, deepening the kiss, dragging Fiyero's shirt up as his hand rises higher, all the way up Fiyero's chest, with one clear goal - he wants it off. The way he's grabbing Fiyero, the casual roughness - as they've proven this morning, it's not that he needs the rope to move Fiyero as he pleases, it just helps free up his hands for other things.

Like power tools. Obviously.

Peter has to break the kiss to pull Fiyero's shirt over his head, revealing his handiwork from earlier. Some of the marks have faded, but the deeper ones have stuck, purpling or dotting with blood vessel Peter had savaged with his suction. He lets his hand pass over a particularly purple one on Fiyero's hip, lips finding his boyfriend's ear to murmur heatedly. "The chair. Sit."

The moment Peter tilts Fiyero's chin up, Fiyero can feel the dynamic shift. There's something in Peter's eyes, not just confidence, but also purpose. It makes Fiyero shiver pleasantly when Peter talks about teaching him a lesson.

And then they're kissing, and Fiyero leans into it immediately. He doesn't melt - that might imply a more submissive part. Fiyero's literally just defined himself by his impatience, so now he's going to chase this pleasure excitedly. There's a joy in it too, Fiyero giving a moan of happiness. His hands grab at Peter eagerly, his mouth open and needy, welcoming Peter.

The only reason he stops touching Peter is to let him pull off his clothes. Though even then, the demanding way Peter’s grabbing Fiyero means he doesn't want to entirely comply, giving gentle resistance to make Peter force him. Not unwillingness - very far from it. Just a slowness to cooperate. Already he can feel Peter's strength and he wants more of it.

Impatience doesn't inherently mean rebellion either. He feels his stomach squirm at Peter's firm order, but he obeys immediately, going to pull out the chair and sitting down, hands gripping the sides of the seat. He's practically bouncing in his seat, eager for his reward. Of course he knows his "reward" is being taught to wait, but he acts like Peter is about to fuck him right then and there. Eager for the pleasure about to be given to him, as if they didn't just seconds ago basically agree on depriving Fiyero of it.

It really is impressive just how easy it is to slip into character. A minute ago, he would have happily wrapped Peter up in his own webbing, spent ages teasing and pleasuring him while Peter was helpless. Now he's fully committed to having more or less the same done to him. And oh, he's already feeling flush and horny from it.

It's a subtle thing, the shift from verbal conversation to body language, and yet at the same time, it's the least subtle thing in the world. Peter can practically feel the energy pulsing out of Fiyero - who is hardly submissive, grabbing at him in return with enthusiasm. Peter can tell real resistance - up to a certain point, that's what the safeword is for - and this is hardly that. If anything, perhaps you could call it Fiyero subtly testing his bounds. As if Peter couldn't bat his hands away and take what he wanted regardless (if Fiyero wants to make him take it.)

But they're not quite at that brat level at the moment, and that's good, considering Peter hasn't had a chance to read his book yet. Hm. Maybe something else he can do once he's got Fiyero occupied. The gag they bought... Peter can't deny some scenarios came to mind immediately for what they could use it for.

Fiyero listens this time, going for the seat with unconcealed excitement. It has absolutely no right to be as adorable as it is, and Peter hides his fond smile as he turns back to grab the rope from where he set it aside. He selects the black length, returning to Fiyero and pausing to ensure his sleeves are rolled up high enough for him to get work.

Peter's never actually done that much bondage, but he doesn't plan for Fiyero to be struggling particularly hard in this position, so he's reasonably confident he knows enough to ensure Fiyero doesn't hurt himself. The rope is also made for this kind of thing, which doesn't mean doing it wrong can't still cause issues - but there's some sense of safety there, too.

Peter smirks a little, looking in no small order a bit of a mad scientist - goggles atop his head, professional outfit mildly rumpled from Fiyero's eager touching, rope turned around in his hands. He steps forward, tucking a socked foot between Fiyero's legs, and casually nudging them open. It's not really a nudge however, at least in the level of force - not enough to hurt, but enough that there's no resisting his strength. It's a nudge for Peter. Just how strong is he, exactly?

Peter loops the rope, tying a simple knot, and bends down to set about securing Fiyero's ankles to the chair. He lifts the chair and Fiyero with one hand, slipping the loop around his ankle and tightening it - then sets him down, and slides the rope around his other ankle, keeping his legs open, held squarely by the angle of the chair.

If his pants are still on, well, it's because that's the way Peter wanted him.

"You know," Peter says casually, hands moving unseen beneath the chair as he works the rope beneath the furniture, so he can get it to Fiyero's hands. He kneels next to Fiyero, grinning cheekily up at him, thumb smoothing against Fiyero's wrist before he ties it, tightening the rope around it. "You're cute when you're excited."

Fiyero doesn't expect a lot of struggling either - well... A lot of squirming, probably. Not forceful, just testing his bonds, trying to get free just hard enough to know it's impossible. Unless Peter spends his time toying with Fiyero rather than fixing the bed, that is. But Fiyero also fully trusts Peter to be careful about this.

Peter is very good at being careful. It's how he knows exactly how much strength to use in any given situation. The way he casually forces Fiyero's legs open like it's nothing almost makes Fiyero whimper. These jeans definitely feel a lot tighter now than they did a moment ago.

The only resistance Fiyero gives is not keeping his hands to himself. The moment Peter is within reach, Fiyero is touching him, whatever part he can get to without leaving the chair. As Peter leans down, Fiyero's hands find their way into Peter's hair, leaning forward to kiss at his shoulder, his neck, whenever he's close enough. And yet his ankle never moves from where Peter wants it, at least not much. Escape is clearly not remotely a priority, even as a pretense. He just wants to touch Peter as much as possible while he can.

He can immediately feel by the way Peter's positioned him, he can't close his legs much. He's not spread wide open - though some ropes around his thighs could fix that - but just the way his ankles are affixed means he's still reasonably stuck.

He has to let go of Peter with one hand as he moves around the chair, but he's still touching and caressing with the one he can reach. Which means it's easy enough for Peter to grab his wrist and pull it exactly where he wants it. Fiyero doesn't fight it at all - except curling his fingers to touch them against Peter's arm, even as he ties him up.

"Am I not always cute?" he asks with a smiling pout. Fiyero is gently blushing, his eyes dark, drinking everything in. His heartbeat has definitely picked up. It's clear he's enjoying every moment.

Who knows what he might do once he has Fiyero all trussed up and at his mercy? They have plenty of time to fuck, fix the bed, have dinner... the rest of today is theirs...

Fiyero's hands brush through his hair knocking the goggles off, somewhere behind him. Peter hardly cares, shivering pleasantly at the feeling of Fiyero's nails on his scalp. It feels nice, and it's almost a shame he's going to render Fiyero immobile in this regard. Almost... Fiyero will have his chance for sweet, sweet revenge later. The kisses, similarly, garner a wide smile as Fiyero reaches for every inch of Peter he can touch.

"Mm, when you're not being impossibly sexy." Peter's shifted behind Fiyero now, deftly working on the ties for his hands. He has to redo it once, too excited and inwardly nervous to make the rope do what he wants - but Fiyero can't see him and the wait just heightens the anticipation, right? He doesn't think Fiyero noticed. Peter loops the ropes, a very similar knot to how he had Fiyero earlier, arms trussed up behind his back - but then he weaves the loose end through the back chair legs, just taut enough to keep Fiyero's back straight against the chair.

When Peter's satisfied with his work, his hands disappear from Fiyero, leaning back to be out of Fiyero's new limited reach. He takes a moment to admire his handiwork - yeah, Fiyero's not going anywhere - and after a beat, Peter's hands slip around Fiyero's sides from behind, brushing reverently over his chest. Touching, everywhere, because he can. His lips find Fiyero's ear again, an amused chuckle bubbling from his throat. "But right now you're very, very cute."

Peter spares a moment to kiss at Fiyero's neck, head tipping down as he rises from the floor, letting him go with a little love nip just beneath Fiyero's ear. He rounds the chair, and in another casual display of secret strength, grabs it and lifts Fiyero, repositioning him to face the bed.

"Four posts," Peter gestures to the pile of metal, quirking a brow as his gaze flits back to Fiyero. "Four rewards. If you can behave, and not distract me. If you're too distracting... I might just have to distract you."

Peter stands in front of Fiyero and plants his palms on the edge of the back of the seat, leaning forward into Fiyero's personal space. The first test, of how far Fiyero can strain in his bonds - he might not be able to reach Peter at all, if it's working as it should. Just hovering, nearly in kissing distance, but not quite. Peter tilts his head, gaze drifting down over Fiyero's bare chest, his tight pants with a bulge that's growing more and more pronounced - and back up to his eager expression. "Sound fair?"

Flattery is always welcome. It's one of the things Fiyero has trouble imagining missing from their sexual experimentation. Pretending they aren't absolutely crazy about each other wouldn't just be difficult - it would probably even feel unpleasant. So no matter how strict or forcible or "cruel" Peter is being, there has to be some kind of affection in there.

If Peter's having trouble, Fiyero doesn't notice. With Peter behind the chair, Fiyero can't see him without really twisting in his seat, which will probably make the bondage difficult. So he faces forward, and he closes his eyes for a moment. Taking in the sensation of ropes tight around his ankles, over a layer of clothing. The way Peter's hands move, snaking rope around his wrists. Fuck, it's still really arousing. Just the sensation of it.

And then Peter's touching him again, and Fiyero sighs, a hint of need in the sound. He squirms in his seat, chasing the touches, his neck tilting to give Peter room while also leaning against him. He tugs at his wrists, and the way the rope tightens makes his dick twitch.

He gasps softly as Peter picks up the chair to turn him. He's already feeling some sort of way from just being tied up. It takes a second to process Peter's rules, while he leans forward, trying to reach him. Tugging hard for a moment - carefully, not sudden - feeling both the ropes and the back of the chair digging into him, before he relents. The ropes feel comfortable as long as he relaxes.

"...That's not fair at all," Fiyero answers, and the pout this time seems more real. Performative, yes, but also genuinely reluctant to try to earn rewards. Unlike Peter, he's not a very good boy - at least not when it comes to waiting. "You want me to just sit here and shut up? I'll get bored, and then I definitely won't be able to shut up," he complains.

It's not quite a real complaint - perhaps it's more establishing expectations. Or, to the point it is a real complaint, it's a knowingly childish one. He probably could behave. It's not a very challenging task. Perhaps it's less about rebellion, and more about... some deeply ingrained fear that he'll fail. Or that the task will be unexpectedly unpleasant, no matter how simple the task seems. There's a small part of him that's... scared to actually try. Better to refuse to behave right out the gate.

Peter could just encourage him, of course. Or shut him up, or give him a distraction from the get go. If he's devoted to teaching him patience, then the rules he's put down are actually quite fair.

Peter’s glad that they seem to be on the same page about that - putting affection and care for one another first. If Fiyero wanted something different, Peter’s not sure he could deliver. Even now, he’s a little nervous that he might mess up. Less so, of course, after all the work they’ve done building each other’s confidence. The distinction, Peter thinks, is that his nerves are more excited than they are genuine anxiety. Still some anxiety - he’s a predictable creature - but with enough confidence to temper it.

“Not fair?” Peter huffs a laugh, leaning in real close. A hairsbreadth, now, but still just out of reach. “What if I sweeten the pot?”

Peter leans back, raising a hand to start unbuttoning his own shirt - slow, deliberate. Patience is a virtue, after all, and maybe Fiyero’s just never really considered how sweet delayed gratification can be. Maybe that’s why he likes the idea of being tied up as much as he does - helpless to make Peter go faster, drawing gentle hands down his own chest, making a show out of it.

“I don’t want you to sit there and shut up.” Peter murmurs, sinking to his knees in front of Fiyero’s spread legs, shirt open, hanging from his upper arms. His hands move instead to Fiyero’s thighs, touching, feeling, palms spread wide as he gropes Fiyero freely. “I want you to sit there and think about how good your reward will be if you’re patient.”

“And your reward,” Peter’s hands find Fiyero’s zipper, fingers curling in the waistband of his jeans, giving him a tug. Emphasis placed on how tight his pants are, and just where Fiyero’s reward might lead. Big, brown imploring eyes meet clear blue, and Peter grins, offering Fiyero a wink. “…let’s just say it won’t disappoint, hm?”

Peter surges up, suddenly, catching Fiyero’s face in his palms. He kisses him, passionate and wet and absolutely filthy - hands wind into Fiyero’s hair, demanding his attention, tongue invading, claiming. Peter kisses him thoroughly, messily, until he’s all but out of breath, breaking to pant against Fiyero’s mouth.

“Like I said,” Peter forces himself to release Fiyero, to step back and hit pause - which is difficult for them both, he’s sure. He’s not the one tied up, though, so it’s on him to pump the brakes as necessary. He smiles crookedly, mouth curling at the edge - however frustrated he might be, he’s sure Fiyero is worse. “Patience, baby.”

Fiyero leans back as Peter does, his eyes following Peter's hands as he starts undressing. He really is so much sexier than he's aware of. It's a great show, and while Fiyero obviously wants to touch, he's definitely enjoying the brief strip tease, his eyes dark with hunger.

It only gets better when Peter starts touching him, Fiyero spreading his legs as much as he can, his ankles pulling at the rope. He gives a soft noise as Peter pulls at his waistband, Fiyero's ass sliding down the seat a little. Though it probably has just as much to do with Fiyero trying to chase Peter's touch as it has with Peter's force. His hips are one part of him that's still sort of free to move - just not easily, as it requires him holding onto the chair with his tied hands and arms.

Even if nothing has changed about Peter's premise... The attention really makes a big difference. Perhaps Fiyero simply doesn't want to feel like he's ignored, locked away to not be in the way or be a nuisance. The teasing of a reward... yeah, it makes it a lot easier to bear. Even if it seems terribly far away.

Except then Peter is kissing him with such intensity, Fiyero's gasp is cut off as Peter's lips claim his. He gives a needy whimper and a moan, eager to show Peter his appreciation for the attention, returning the kiss as passionately as he's capable of, leaving himself open to Peter.

He feels dizzy when Peter pulls back. Well, with the lack of breath and all the blood making his jeans bulge, it's probably only natural. His heart is thrumming, his skin tingling, craving more of Peter's touch. His wrists ache, and he has to intentionally relax to stop pulling at them subconsciously.

Peter has a pretty impressive willpower when he wants to, Fiyero will give him that. Fiyero does give a little whine, biting his lip. But he nods, still catching his breath, face flush. "Alright.." he answers softly, feeling pleasantly hazy. The frustration is there, yes... But it feels good.

Fiyero looks quite the state, when Peter steps back from him. Flush, shoulders heaving with his heavy breathing, jeans tight, practically begging to be unwrapped. Especially when he's just trussed up like that, all on display for Peter to do with as he pleases.

...patience is easier said than done.

But Peter finds the willpower, somehow, running a hand through Fiyero's hair, letting his nails lightly scratch Fiyero's scalp. He smiles, giving Fiyero another little tug - a reminder of the reward he was promising. "Very good."

With that, Peter discards his shirt entirely on the bed, then bends down to dig through the shelf under the desk, eventually unearthing his toolkit. The computer is still pumping out dance music, and when Peter opens the case to pull out his power drill, he glances up at Fiyero and grins, giving it a flirty whirr.

The concept of reinforcing the bedposts is pretty simple, and lucky for Fiyero, Peter will likely be pretty quick putting it together. He sets about constructing a frame for the bottom of the bed to attach the posts to, sticking the screws he needs in his mouth while he works. Whether or not it's doing much for Fiyero, at least he's shirtless? Muscles ripple and flex as Peter moves, maneuvering the metal, the occasional burst of mechanical whirring, and at one point lifting the entire bed one handed so he can slide the new frame beneath the wooden one.

Idly dusting his hands together, Peter spares another glance at Fiyero, eyes crinkling at the corners. "How are we doing over there? Couple more minutes and you'll get your first reward, 'yero..."

Fiyero closes his eyes as he presses against Peter's hand, opening them with a soft gasp as Peter tugs his head back gently.

It's the affection that makes the difference. Fiyero was scared of having to behave, of sitting there feeling like it's some test. Even if the lack of reward wouldn't be bad, and the promised 'punishment' of distraction would probably be fun in and of itself... it would still feel bad to feel like he had failed. (And maybe someday he'll be able to deal with failing because he's still getting unconditional affection, but it's not today.) Peter took just enough to properly get him hot and bothered that he doesn't feel ignored - just toyed with.

As Peter turns away to get to work, Fiyero pushes himself up again, adjusting his position for comfort so his arms aren't digging into the back of the chair anymore. He's trying to resign himself to patiently waiting while Peter neglects him - but then Peter looks back and gives him that warm, flirty smile, and Fiyero's heart just swells.

Peter looks beautiful, and at least Fiyero gets to watch as he works. His hands fiddle with the ropes, not to escape, but simply to feel them. His hand wraps around the ones that are tugging his wrists down, and it makes his groin ache with need, and he has a moment of being absolutely astounded that Peter is doing this for him. That Peter is currently reconstructing his bed just so they can have more fun sex.

Despite Peter focused completely in something else, Fiyero feels... very taken care of.

There's something warm and wet rolling down his cheek, and Fiyero feels embarrassed as he realises it's a tear. He twists his head to wipe it off against his shoulder as best he can manage. He feels silly, not wanting to call attention to it. This is supposed to be sexy. Fiyero's already worried him with crying before, he doesn't want to make it habit. It's just... a lot of emotions. He can't help it if something spills over. He really should be able to, but...

He's perfectly quiet, and if there were any tiny sniffles, they were covered by the music and the tools. By the time Peter looks over, at least Fiyero's eyes aren't quite as watery, just shining a little, though the embarrassed flush returns at the attention. At least if there were any tears he couldn't wipe away, they've dried by now.

He wants desperately to ask for a kiss or a hug when Peter asks, but he bites it back, literally biting his lip. ~~Don't ask for things, be good, be patient, not distracting.~~ "Enjoying the show," he answers, then clears his throat, his voice a little more raspy than he expected. The smile he gives Peter in return is simultaneously genuine, and trying to hide anything that might worry him. This isn't safeword type worry. This is just... Fiyero doesn't really know. It's a lot of different things, all at the same time - including intense affection and arousal.

Perhaps there's more to uncover here than either of them realize; they kind of fell into this dynamic more than they really sought it out, and if either of them bothered to stop and examine why... but then again, neither of them are particularly good at analyzing their own emotions and behaviors. Peter, who keeps it so tightly wound, all but ready to burst out of him because he can't tell anyone... and Fiyero, who hides his own away because he thinks no one would care anyway.

Now that they've found one another, it seems these things are working their way to the surface.

Peter doesn't notice the tears, focused on the construction. Fiyero is fidgeting a little, but Peter never said he had to be still - just, not distracting. He figured it was a "know it when he sees it" kind of situation. But when he does turn to Fiyero, giving the frame a little kick with his foot to gauge how solid it is - decently, alright, that's looking good - he plants his hands on his hips and notices... well, he's not sure what to call the expression on Fiyero's face. Part horny bashfulness, part want, and part... upset? But not, not really, because Fiyero's eyes would look a lot sadder if he was upset... but they are a little watery.

Fiyero holding something back is even more obvious, the way he bites down on his lip, Peter's gaze flitting down to his mouth, then back up. Peter pauses for a beat, hands drifting to tuck his thumbs in his belt loops as he considers what he should do - what Fiyero might need, what these nonverbal signals are really saying. He takes a step forward, reaching to plant one palm on the back of Fiyero's chair - and smoothly places himself between Fiyero's legs, tipping the chair back just enough to force Fiyero to lean back, unless he wants to be stuck in an ab crunch. Dangling at Peter's mercy, though of course, Peter's strong enough to balance the chair just right so it's not forcing Fiyero to bear any weight on his hands.

"Good," Peter grins, thick eyebrows rising up towards his hair as if the position he's stuck Fiyero in isn't totally bananas. He doesn't have to hide with Fiyero - and that, apparently, lends itself to a pretty good show. "See? Patience can be fun."

"This one is for me," He hums, leaning in to press his lips to Fiyero's throat, dragging them up towards his jaw. "So don't worry... doesn't count against you..."

Peter captures his mouth in another warm kiss, less frantic than before, but just as deep, passionate. Full of heat - smoldering instead of an inferno, making it clear that Peter was enjoying this just as much as Fiyero was. His other hand finds the seat of the chair and he lifts, holding Fiyero completely off the ground, now. He'd never drop him, of course - but there's nothing Fiyero can really do to hold on, either, which is it's own kind of thrill.

Edited (FUCK) 2025-11-26 00:25 (UTC)

Fiyero doesn't much like analysing his own emotions, no. There's a lot of buried pain and need there, and even if he wanted to try to face that, well. There's a lot more urgent pain that needs to be dealt with or prevented. Peter can argue all he wants that Fiyero is intelligent, but how much of that is emotional intelligence, it doesn't fully extend to himself as much as it probably should.

He thinks he's being very well behaved, though. Fidgeting is inevitable when stuck like this, and honestly, it's partly just helping ground himself in the moment. If he was being distracting, he would at minimum be whining a little. Or chattering. Not even asking for any attention.

But he gets it anyway.

Fiyero gasps softly as Peter tips the chair, instinctively jerking forward to stop himself from falling, hands and ankles pulling at the rope. But obviously Peter has a secure grip on him, so Fiyero carefully leans back, looking up at Peter with big, shining blue eyes.

Peter really needn't have asked Fiyero if he trusts him. It's evident in everything he does. Giving himself over to Peter's mercy in so many ways, letting himself be swept away, figuratively and literally. There's a tiny hint of fear and unbalance, tied up and handled like this, but in a way that only heightens the excitement. Fiyero lets out a soft noise as Peter leans in to kiss his neck, his eyes fluttering closed.

The kiss is perfect, soothing his need for reassurance that he was too scared to ask for. Fiyero's chasing it needily, moaning quietly into Peter's mouth, and he feels the furthest from ignored. The verbal reassurance it comes with is good too. It makes it explicitly clear that Peter just wants to do this, wants him.

Fiyero breaks the kiss with a soft yelp as Peter picks up the chair, making his stomach swoop again - and the surprise sets off nervous giggles, feeling a little delirious. And at the same time, he feels the desire burns inside him, at Peter literally playing with him like this. Yes, he feels helpless, but right now it feels like a very good place to be. It'll switch in a moment, he knows, when he needs to be patient again. But for now he just chases Peter's affection and attention, smiling and looking both dazed and excited.

Peter thinks he's been successful at getting Fiyero out of his own head, whatever emotions might have been simmering there - expressing them was important, but whatever was going on... Peter didn't want Fiyero to have to languish for no reason. Not when he was right there - it wasn't like the bed task was urgent, after all. They're supposed to be having fun.

And it is fun - more fun than Peter had anticipated, listening to Fiyero gasp, impressed and maybe a little awed at the casual feat of strength. Okay... maybe Peter is getting a little ego boost with it, but is that such a terrible thing? His boyfriend thinks he's hot, as evidenced by the soft, oh-so-tantalizing moans Peter muffles with his mouth, licking his way past Fiyero's lips. He laughs warmly when Fiyero yelps in surprise, taking the opportunity to spin them around - it's a sedate circle, not wanting to pull on any of Fiyero's bonds accidentally in the wrong direction - before he carefully sets Fiyero's chair back down, facing the bed again.

"Five more minutes," Peter lifts a hand under Fiyero's chin, tipping it up towards him. His thumb brushes Fiyero's mouth, pushing in just a little to touch the pad of his thumb to the warmth of Fiyero's lip - he knows Fiyero will open his mouth for him, and that sends a little zing right down into his gut. "Then, your reward."

Peter releases Fiyero's chin and runs his hand through Fiyero's hair again, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of his head before he steps back once more. Patience and build up, but God, he's only human and Fiyero looks like a present in desperate need of unwrapping. Peter readjusts himself in his own pants, already sporting half a chub - and there's no reason to be subtle about it when it's just the two of them, his gaze cutting over to Fiyero - before he sets to work with the first post.

It's pretty simple, and the others will go quickly, now that the frame is done. Peter takes the rebar and squares it on the inside of the new frame, running it along the current wooden corner. Four screws in the bottom, a few along the post - Peter has to turn his back to Fiyero to hold everything in place, which gives him a nice view of Peter's rippling back muscles, at least.

Peter is being unbearably sexy, but he's also being very playful. Not remotely a strict teacher, not when he doesn't need to be. Listening to Peter's laugh makes him feel light and airy inside, like it makes complete sense Peter can just pick him up like that.

Fiyero's still smiling and catching his breath as Peter touches his chin, and there's definitely no strength necessary to tip it up. Fiyero's lips purse, kissing Peter's thumb, but also entirely ready to wrap around it if Peter had pushed it further. There's no argument this time as Peter promises to finish soon.

Fiyero closes his eyes as Peter kisses the top of his head. He actually misses Peter adjusting himself, still eyes closed, a faint smile still on his face as Peter looks over.

It's easier this time, to simply settle in the moment. Not necessarily sitting patiently, as he finds himself squirming a couple times, but this time it's the anticipation. Not any other worries or the wrong kind of overwhelm. He alternates between watching Peter, and simply sitting there with his eyes closed, just feeling the sensation of the ropes, the position he's locked in. This time he is doing what Peter had suggested - imagining what the reward might be.

He's not actually sure. He knows it's going to be fun. There's definitely going to be at least one orgasm in there. Will he keep him in the chair, or do something else? Fiyero really doesn't know, and that uncertainty is exciting too.

One drawback he's realising is that he can't really see the rope himself. Perhaps it's vanity, wanting to see it across his skin, or maybe he just wants both the sensation and the visual. (Perhaps he'll have to do some posing for Peter at some point.) But on the other hand, he gets some really wonderful views of Peter.

"You look so good," he says impulsively, the thought just slipping out. He presses his lips together, as if he's aware that's probably easily slipping into distraction. But he's not whining, not demanding attention! There's simply a limit to how much he can keep his thoughts in. At least now, after Peter's bursts of affection, he's less worried about having fucked up.

Lucky for Fiyero, Peter's done with the post by the time Fiyero comments; depositing the power drill on the bed, smile quirking the corners of his mouth as he turns back around. Fiyero's done exactly as he asked this whole time, so Peter will let it slide. This little game they're playing isn't really about throwing the book at Fiyero - they're just having fun. His smile widens as Fiyero clamps his mouth shut, like that will retroactively take back the slip.

Not a bad slip, either - distracting would be saying that while he was actively working the power tool. Peter hooks his thumbs through his belt loops again, cocking his hips to the side as he studies Fiyero - Peter wants Fiyero to know he's looking, to maybe feel exposed in more ways than just the vulnerability of the ropes.

"Yeah?" Peter lets his own hand rise, grazing his stomach, a slow, sensual touch to draw the eye. He's kind of winging the whole strip tease thing, but it seems Fiyero is appreciating it, so he endeavors to grab the confidence with both hands. Peter carefully thumbs open the button on his own pants, shimmying them off with a fluid roll of his hips, the bulge in his boxers more pronounced, without his pants in the way to dampen it. "Not a bad view from where I'm standing, either..."

"Are you ready for your reward?" Peter teases gently, stepping out of his pants and into the open vee of Fiyero's bound legs. He lets his hands run through Fiyero's hair fingertips sliding sensually down his bare shoulders, ramping up the anticipation. Finally, Peter grins, then climbs into Fiyero's lap, seating himself right on top of Fiyero's groin. His arms link around Fiyero's neck, forearms pressing against the back of the chair to help give him the leverage he needs to start rocking - grinding - against Fiyero's lap.

"Just relax, baby," Peter presses his forehead to Fiyero's, hips rolling, giving him some well-earned friction. He doubts it's enough to get off to, but that's not the point - it's about building them both up. Fiyero still has three rewards to go, after all... "You were so good for me, being so patient. Enjoy it, mm?"

Peter's smile reassures whatever residual worry there might have been, so warm, and amused rather than disapproving. Peter proves the observation immediately too, the way he seems to pose, even before he starts touching himself.

The way he studies Fiyero definitely brings a little pink to his cheeks, but Fiyero - who is used to encouraging and soaking in people's attention - can't help but spread his legs a little to give Peter more to look at. He nods definitely to reiterate that he absolutely means if, and Peter returns the favour by stroking his stomach in a way that makes Fiyero's mouth water.

Fiyero is obviously eager to shower Peter in compliments, by the way they burst out of him, but sometimes he doesn't even need to. His undivided attention says enough as Peter slowly strips. Fiyero's never quite felt this way about someone's appearance before. Peter was always beautiful, but the more they get to know each ofher, the sexier Peter seems to get to Fiyero. And while Fiyero doesn't need to say it, Peter's compliment is immediately confirmed by the growing erection in his underwear. The feelings are mutual, that much is obvious.

It's such a relief, when Peter finally touches him again. Not even from a sexual standpoint - just a longing to be close, to feel his skin. And then it's very sexual, Fiyero letting out a drawn-out sigh that ends in a moan of appreciation.

If Peter kept it going long enough, he might manage to come. There's been a fair amount of arousal built up already, even without being touched there. Still, the jeans muffle it enough that they're in no immediate danger, even if the moans might indicate otherwise.

His hips twitch and jerk a little, but he really is trying to relax. He could press up firmer, if he wanted, his hips free enough to move - but what he really wants is for Peter to give it to him. "Thank you.." he breathes, pressing his face against Peter's. Not kissing, simply being close. Closing his eyes and enjoying whatever Peter wants to give him.

Fiyero stares, and it makes Peter feel warm all over. Their connection is so unlike anything he’s ever experienced before - placing himself as an object of desire before Fiyero, precisely because Fiyero desired him. Which would have seemed laughable to Peter just a short while ago, and an ineffable truth, now. Even if this doesn’t last - whether Fiyero goes back to Oz, or stays and finds he tires of Peter’s company - Fiyero wanted him, once. Several times, in fact… in several different positions.

So he sets aside self-consciousness, basking in Fiyero’s eager want. Fiyero’s inviting him closer with the way he widens his legs, the way he strains, however subtly, however much he’s trying not to, against his bonds. It’s hot, and for once Peter’s letting himself enjoy it, too.

“You earned it,” Peter teases lightly, bumping his nose against Fiyero’s as the prince closes his eyes, giving himself over to the pleasure of the moment. Fiyero’s moans raise goosebumps on Peter’s arms, and Peter keeps grinding, setting a leisurely pace - not too slow, but once again not frantic, enjoying the way the motion brings their bodies together. Fiyero is solid against him, hardness warm against his backside, the slide of his warm and intoxicating with each roll of Peter’s hips.

Peter tucks his face into Fiyero’s neck after a moment, moaning softly in return - he’s really enjoying this, too, the front of his tented boxers gently brushing Fiyero’s stomach. He starts mouthing at his neck after another beat, lazy, slow, until he makes it up to Fiyero’s ear, soft pants exhaled against the side of his head, fingers curling in Fiyero’s hair. “You know… this is what it would be like if I was riding you…”

Fiyero is starting to warm up a little to the idea of earning rewards through good behaviour. Depends on the challenge, of course. Though teasing and frustrating, and surprisingly a little emotional, this hasn't been unpleasant. It easily could have - the kind of unpleasant he would hate, being neglected.

Enduring pain or exhaustion or overstimulation, that he thinks he could actually handle easier. Challenges that might be physically taxing, but not emotionally or mentally. Or at least not in the same way. Unless it was done with cruelty, he doesn't think it would upset him. After all, he's already endured quite a bit, the other times Peter has held him down or tied him up.

He'll happily endure this teasing as well. Peter is showering him in attention - and also using him for his own pleasure, something which delights Fiyero. Rather than thrust his hips, Fiyero arches his back on the next roll of Peter's groin against him. Fiyero's abs taut, he presses his stomach against Peter's dick through his underwear. He doesn't have a lot of opportunity to return the attention - but he's sure going to try to when he can.

Fiyero lets out a soft, needy noise at Peter's words. Replies come to mind - jokingly questioning whether he'd be tied up then to, or saying he'd want to be holding Peter. Dirtier words, describing what it would be like, Peter impaling himself on Fiyero's dick. Saying how much he wants that.

None of the words seem to come out. He is imagining it though, like Peter wanted him to. Just like this, Fiyero helplessly tied to the chair, or the bed, with Peter relentlessly riding his cock. Driving Fiyero absolutely insane. An intoxicating vision of Peter refusing to stop until he's brought himself to orgasm. Or -- fuck, the opposite. Peter still riding him, except Peter's hands are tied behind his back with webbing, and he's not allowed to stop, while Fiyero jerks Peter off. There's so many delicious ideas, and just the thought of it coupled with the way Peter is grinding against him makes Fiyero whimper softly into his neck.

Maybe it’s like a little bit of exposure therapy; and maybe it’s not so terrible, when combined with the knowledge that Peter will come back. That he’s not ignoring Fiyero, but rather… letting him simmer, with the promise of a boil on the horizon.

And it is a boil - a rolling one, if the way Peter’s hips are moving is any indication. If Fiyero is in want of a challenge, he might just get one when Peter stops. It feels good in the moment, but when it starts to feel too good, that will be Peter’s cue. Enduring sexual frustration is the name of this game…

Fiyero’s abdomen tenses, back arched, and Peter lets out a soft whine at the friction he gets in return - even more intense, given that the only barrier for him is his boxers. The fact that Fiyero is choosing that over lifting his hips to press into Peter’s ass is oddly sweet - which as Fiyero is well aware by now, turns Peter on like nothing else.

“Good boy,” Peter murmurs, because the term is not exclusive to him, and if he’s bestowing it, Fiyero will know he means it. Peter grasps at Fiyero’s hair, rocking back, forward, edging closer to simulate really riding Fiyero, as opposed to just grinding. “Just like that, baby. So hard for me, fuck, I could ride you all day - ”

He’s babbling a bit, that jittery, excitable dirty talk that spews out of him sometimes - but Fiyero certainly doesn’t seem to mind. Peter kisses at Fiyero’s jaw, open-mouthed, letting Fiyero curl into his embrace - face buried in his neck, Peter’s hands fisted in Fiyero’s hair. He switches up his grinding motion, going for a bounce instead - Peter presses Fiyero’s bulge between his cheeks, and now he’s definitely simulating a cowboy position.

Peter slows from there, gently slowing his pace until he’s simply seated on Fiyero’s lap, slowly circling his hips with Fiyero pressed right up against his ass. Peter nudges at Fiyero’s cheek with his nose, coaxing him up to kiss him, something sweet and smoldering. It feels like the most difficult thing in the world right now to focus on the task at hand - but he’s still got three more posts to drill.

“Next reward,” Peter murmurs, fingers carding slowly through Fiyero’s hair; he’s reluctant to get up, but he’d have to anyway if they were going to continue what he’s started. “I’ll take down your zipper with my teeth.”

It's both easier and more difficult to sit there and be made to wait, after being worked up like this. The sexual frustration is building, but he feels the furthest thing from neglected. This might be a very effective way to play when Fiyero wants to have sex but Peter has stuff he needs to do, really. Of course, it would take a lot shorter without the breaks, but where's the fun?

At least Fiyero gets to give Peter some pleasure in return too. Pressing against him, mouthing at his neck, breath hot. Getting some of Peter's noises in return, that filthy babbling, it only makes Fiyero harder. And Peter praises him for it too, which means he's absolutely going to keep trying.

His erection feels intense trapped in his jeans, which are unbearably tight right now. As Peter bounces, he finds himself more and more longing for proper friction, the slick slide of skin against skin. He imagines is cock enveloped by Peter warm ass, and he groans into Peter's neck.

It takes him a little while to realise that Peter isn't going to speed up again, once he's slowing more and more down. A needy little moan escapes him, his hips twitching up, trying to squirm against him. It doesn't make nearly enough difference - but it doesn't stop him from returning the kiss, a bit more intense than Peter makes it.

Then Peter reveals what the next reward will be, and Fiyero lets out a soft laugh, a deep chuckle, warm in his chest with a hint of a growl. Full of enjoyable frustration and anticipation and arousal. Oz, he doesn't want Peter to pull away - but he lets it happen without complaint. Being a good boy... at least this time.

He looks more than a little ravaged. Face flush with half-lidded eyes, hair a complete mess, nipples hard, and the bulge in his jeans is probably as big as it can get. He shifts in his seat, trying to adjust to the idea of just sitting there waiting for however more many minutes. Relaxing back into a position where he's not pulling at the ropes anymore.

After a moment, he frowns a little, taking stock as he twists his wrists inside the ropes. His hands are a little bit tingly and cold. Not bad, and he bites his lip, intending to ignore it, to endure. Don't ask for things, stay quiet, be patient.

Before he remembers that's the sort of thing he's supposed to bring up. Not the intended kind of torture. He hadn't even noticed until Peter left him to stew, so it's not too bad, but he's been sitting here a while now. Between the alternating attention and breaks - Fiyero has even less concept of how much time has passed, but it must have been a bit.

"Peter?" he speaks up softly, but he has the good sense to do it while Peter's not holding a power tool or right in the middle of doing something. "Could you.. My hands are a bit numb," he says sheepishly. It's clear from his tone at least that this is not needy impatient whining.

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