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 ]

Peter is definitely getting the real Fiyero. He hides less and less, able to be more open, not just to Peter, but also to himself. It's not fixed in a day, but given how little time he's actually been here, it's like his heart has been dramatically cracked open.

He's still performative, but then so is Peter sometimes. During sex, they've used their performance to great effect. But after the moment of worry and reassurance, the intimacy and sweetness seems to stick. It feels natural to be honest, while keeping things light. And if it makes Peter laugh, even better.

"Probably not long enough for you to finish," Fiyero answers, keeping his honesty. There will be an interruption. That was kind of the point. Fiyero's willingly encouraging the teasing and edging.

The way Peter rubs at his ankles is sweet, Fiyero having no objection to it. It also makes it feel less empty, when the ropes are suddenly gone. Thankfully Peter is determined to make up for it, and Fiyero returns the smile. Like they need more drama! Fiyero is just happy to have Peter nuzzling against his crotch, building the need and pleasure inside him far too slowly.

Fiyero keeps stroking Peter's hair, though his hands start caressing whatever part of him he can easily reach. His shoulders, his arms, smoothing his palm across Peter's skin or gently dragging his nails. Just showing his appreciation by touching, without getting in the way or what Peter wants to do.

It definitely gets more difficult staying still once Peter finally opens his jeans and starts mouthing at his erection. It's intense, especially with the moaning that seems to shake through him, making him moan in return. Fiyero's thighs tense and relax, his abs flex as he leans forward, his feet shift against the floor - his hips stay where they are.

"Fuck, Peter..." he breathes, tugging lightly at his hair. "Yeah, I'm not-- You're definitely gonna have to tie me down soon, baby," he warns with a warm, breathy llaugh. He'll keep trying for as long as he can, but it's a losing battle. But hopefully he can hold back long enough for Peter to drive him a little insane - and for Fiyero to regret having moved.

It's definitely been a whirlwind, for them both, but Fiyero especially. Healthy or not, the relationship the two of them found together when Peter softened Fiyero's landing... it's important and it's real. If Peter had to guess one way or another, he'd have to say they're both better off for it. Even with the moment of worry... he feels good. Not because Fiyero compelled him that way, but because that's just the way Fiyero makes him feel.

Fiyero's hands on his skin just make the urge to get at him that much more potent. Peter whines quietly, the sound almost lost entirely to Fiyero's pants, but his own hands grip tighter, the telltale drag of his stickiness making itself known in subtle drags against Fiyero's skin. Fiyero's moans echo in his ears, and Peter mouths at him with renewed fervor, hands squeezing against Fiyero's backside.

He comes up for a breath at Fiyero's breathless warning, cheeks red, eyes bright, tufts of his hair peeking out from between Fiyero's fingers. "Just a little more, baby?"

The excited tone to his voice almost makes it sound like he's the one asking permission, and Peter levers himself up a little higher to kiss at Fiyero's flexing abs instead. He lets his lips down, showering Fiyero in attention, one hand coming up to assist when he gets back to the waistband of Fiyero's underwear. He tucks two fingers in the elastic, tugging it down and using his mouth to coax Fiyero's cock free - mouthing at him with abandon, dragging his lips all over turgid flesh with just a hint of tongue, until Fiyero's erection finally springs free. Peter groans happily, the hand on Fiyero's ass falling to grip the chair - if nothing else, Peter may keep Fiyero pinned with his own enthusiasm.

Peter tucks the band under Fiyero's balls, taking the opportunity to give him a wide lick - he starts from the base, dragging a long, lavish trail all the way up to the flush head, the tip of his tongue teasing against the sensitive nerve bundle. His eyes turn up to Fiyero to watch his reaction, playful challenge in his expression - can Fiyero hold on, or is he going to need to be tied down?

The sensations are amazing, but what really works Fiyero up is just how hungry Peter seems to be for him. The eagerness, the little noises, it's almost like Peter is more desperate to go further than Fiyero himself.

Almost. Because Fiyero is definitely getting very worked up. The flushed and excited look in Peter's face sends a thrill of arousal through him. "I'll try, for you, darling," he promises.

Once Peter's lips touch his cock directly, it's a lot more difficult. Fiyero's head drops back with a drawn-out, pleased moan. Until now, he's managed to occasionally relax, but how his hips seem almost locked in place by his own determination. Like a coiled spring ready to snap.

His legs twitch as Peter's tongue drags across his erection. Little jerks in the muscles, not lifting him off the seat nor moving him much at all, except for the sudden flexing of muscles. It's clear he's struggling to hold on, and it's only made more obvious by his expression. Needy, horny, a hint of desperation intermingled with pleasure. His mouth fully open with hot breath, closing as he lets out a whine.

He doesn't have much more restraint left in him. Not after the teasing he's already had, especially if you count at the sex shop. The only deciding factor is how much longer Peter is planning to go. Maybe he can hold out a minute, maybe two. Sooner or later, Peter's either going to stop and drive Fiyero mad that way, or he's going to push him that little bit more where his body fights him wins.

Either way, he'll probably suggest being tied up. At this point, while he might feel accomplished at holding back, it would feel like a disappointment to not get roped up again.

Fiyero knows exactly what he's doing to him with all the sweet touches, and the use of the pet name brings a whole new wave of heat to Peter's face. Fiyero's learning his buttons and is all too happy to press them, and Peter can't even pretend he's not completely down bad about it. He returns to his task with elation, very pleased when he earns a finger-curling moan out of Fiyero for his efforts. The tension is obvious in every line of his body, like Peter took a wrench and cranked all of Fiyero's joints tighter.

He's doing so well though - holding himself as still as possible, aside from the uncontrollable muscle twitches that tell Peter just how very badly Fiyero is trying to hold on. This focus on being good and holding himself back leaves his expression unguarded - need and rapture the dominant emotions broadcasting there. Peter drinks it in, painfully hard in his own boxers - but far too preoccupied touching Fiyero, coaxing more of those little whines and noises out of him - to care about his own pulsing need. All in due time...

Peter lets his tongue make a slow circle around the head of Fiyero's cock, hand shifting to grip him in a warm fist and give him some pressure. He pulls back for a second, pupils dilated in what is most certainly arousal this time as he looks up at Fiyero, giving him a few firm strokes - still pleasure, but a break from the heat of his mouth.

"You taste perfect," Peter hums, ducking in again to kiss Fiyero's balls, on display above the underwear. "I just want you to fill my mouth - "

Which is precisely what he does - whoops, break over. Peter parts his lips, letting his hand guide Fiyero into his mouth, with two quick, eager bobs of his head. He groans around him, tongue pressing up against Fiyero's underside, and on the third bob Peter gives him a long, needy slurp. Wet heaven, the unrelenting heat of his mouth, tongue flexing against Fiyero's shaft - Peter's not holding anything back.

Fiyero isn't even consciously trying to push Peter's buttons right now. At least not to make him horny. This is just affection, gratitude, comfort - that and wanting to have his hands all over Peter. Might as well take advantage of it while he can, right? It'll make being tied up again all the more deliciously frustrating - or at minimum, when Peter goes back to work.

Though he's quickly realising that if Peter doesn't make him come - which (with a few rewards yet to go) Fiyero doesn't expect him to do quite yet - he's going to need to be tied up just to be able to remain seated and not touching himself while waiting for Peter to finish construction. Unless 'going to do something completely different' counts as not being distracting. All he knows is his hands need to be busy with something else, whether that's being out of reach, or doing something.

Fiyero's unaware what his expression is even doing, nor the noises he makes. Both are strained, his muscles taut in a way that makes every sound coming out of his chest just a little bit choked. But they're also fully natural, no artifice or performance. It makes him a little quieter, but it also means every moan or whine is fully earned.

Everything Peter does seems to built that pleasure inside him, even his hand. His muscles briefly relax, building exhaustion from the tension. Amazing how just sitting here is a workout. Somehow even just the look on Peter's face sends a thrill through him, making him shiver a little. He looks so gorgeous...

It only makes it more intense as Peter does exactly what he years for, and Fiyero lets out a soft, choked cry as he drops his head back in response to feeling the warmth of Peter's mouth wrapping around him.

Fiyero's hands have tightened to a probably painful grip in Peter's hair, his back arched, his body shuddering with effort. The slurp is obscene, the groans and whines shaking through him, and his control slips. As Peter's head pulls back, Fiyero's hips follow, chasing the pleasure, trying to push deeper.

Maybe that's why this is pushing his buttons even harder...

Fiyero's quiet, especially under the music - but it's not as though Peter has to struggle to hear him. He's locked in, focus zeroed in on the quickening whoosh of Fiyero's breathing, the soft gasps and keening whines, the thrum of his heart. He doesn't know what the neighbors are doing, and he could care less. It's incredible, the way Fiyero can capture every single ounce of his attention; it truly is a feat, and something Peter is grateful for because it means he can relax.

Perhaps slurping him down so obscenely wasn't fair, but it gets a gorgeous reaction. If Fiyero's grip is painful, Peter doesn't notice - what's a little pain, when you've been shot and stabbed and beaten, time after time? If anything, it just sharpens his focus, his own arousal, knowing he's made Fiyero so aroused he can't control himself. And control himself... it seems Fiyero really can't, hips pressing forward, fucking his cock back into Peter's retreating mouth.

He doesn't fight the first thrust, enjoying the way Fiyero claims his mouth - he lets Fiyero fuck about half of his cock back in, up against his tongue - before Peter pins him, hand turning to iron and forcing Fiyero's hips back in the chair. It's gentle but firm, and Peter pulls his mouth away with a lazy pop.

"Seems like someone needs the rope again," Peter teases, voice husky. Fiyero's cock bobs in front of him, hard, wet, and utterly perfect. Peter smiles, pressing a kiss to the head - the softest brush of his lips, what might be an apology, if he weren't teasing the thing Fiyero wants most in this moment. "Mm, I'll be back for this... bed's not going to build itself."

God, he wishes it would though.

Peter collects the rope in his hands and looks up at Fiyero thoughtfully. Fiyero might have a suggestion on how he'd like to be tied, or Peter can come up with something. Not his wrists, though Peter does think if he tied Fiyero's wrists and webbed the rope to the ceiling, he could string him up pretty well... another time. Maybe he's see how weak he could make Fiyero's knees in a scenario like that...

It's another kind of freedom, that even without being tied back, Fiyero doesn't need to hold back with Peter. He can't really accidentally hurt him in any way that matters, and if it was more painful than Peter wanted, he would simply hold him back. There's no chance of Fiyero enthusiastically overpowering Peter. Really, the only way Fiyero could force Peter into something would be to emotionally manipulate him - and that's not exactly likely to happen by accident. At least he didn't thrust when Peter already had him deep in his mouth. Fiyero tries to control himself, but unlike Peter, he doesn't need to be scared of what might happen if he didn't.

Even without the ropes, it's intoxicating when Peter pins him down. When that pleasure suddenly disappears, and a whine crawls its way out of his throat. He hates and loves it at the same time. Physically, it's infuriating, the sexual frustration flooding him. His cock throbs with need, where even just the sensation of Peter's lips brushing against him makes his legs twitch.

And yet he loves not having a choice in the matter. It only makes it hotter. Knowing Peter is building him up, in a way Fiyero could never manage on his own. Restraint has never quite been his strong suit. And that's okay. It does something to him, relinquishing the control and the responsibility, knowing he'll enjoy himself and be taken care of.

It's why there's no complaint, no matter how desperate Fiyero looks to have Peter continue. He's flushed and panting, need painted across his face, he but doesn't object. His grip of Peter's hair looses, and he brushes through it once as an apology, letting go when Peter stands up. Fiyero intentionally grips the sides of the chair just to hang on to something for the moment, taking a second to breathe.

He looks up to see Peter standing there with the rope, contemplating. "I do, I do need it," Fiyero answers and licks his lips, then gets to his feet - his muscles object, but even if he feels shaky, his balance is fine. He doesn't need to undo the jeans, but he does reach down to push both the jeans and the underwear aside in one smooth motion, kicking them aside.

Then he immediately sits back down, positioning himself. Spreading his legs quite wide, scooting forward a little on the seat, then pushing his feet back on either side of the chair, so they're resting on his tip toes closer to the back legs. "You could do here, and here," he suggests, pointing from his ankle to the back legs of the chair, and then from his thighs to the back leg or the spindle that connects the legs. If it's quite far up his thigh, he would definitely have no ability to thrust, nor to pull his legs together. Peter would have free reign to touch wherever he wanted, too.

He's been debating whether he should tie his arms back, but honestly, he both wants and needs it. So additionally, he leans back and pulls his shoulders back, putting both his arms over the back of the chair. Drawing them closer together behind his back, as well as behind the back of the chair, and he laces his fingers together. "Just my upper arms would be enough," he says, his voice earnest and trembling a little.

Once again, it's clear that Fiyero has plenty of ideas. Like he's arranging himself for Peter's enjoyment. Sometimes, perhaps he wants Peter to fully take control of everything, to make all the decisions. To completely inhabit the dominating role. Other times, like this, he's perfectly ready to share the burden. To let Peter know exactly what he wants and needs, and let Peter give it to him.

Peter's hair is an absolute mess as he rises from the floor, looking pretty obscene himself - sex hair, lips pink and puffy, boxers with a wet spot on the front that would continue expanding the longer they left them on. Fiyero looks - Peter just wants to get right back on his knees and keep going, to keep that beautiful flush on Fiyero's face - and his grip on the rope tightens to stop himself from touching. Not yet. Patience.

That's easier said than done, when Fiyero starts arranging himself.

Peter's worried for a brief moment, wondering if Fiyero will wobble when he stands so suddenly - but he doesn't fall, shucking his clothing and discarding it elsewhere on the floor. Peter can't focus on that, eyes dark as Fiyero positions himself in the chair. It's a complicated series of knots Fiyero is suggesting, but it's not too dissimilar from a hogtie; or at least, Peter thinks he can visualize which knots to use to execute it safely. It would mean Fiyero was pinned completely, no leeway to shift his hips or get anything more - just struggling, at Peter's mercy.

God, his boyfriend is hot.

Peter leans down to kiss him, one hand moving to tilt Fiyero's head up. It's a sweet, happy kiss, and Peter parts with a gentle brush of his thumb against Fiyero's cheek, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I like the way you think."

He crouches, deftly looping the rope under Fiyero's calf, and begins tying his knots. He holds Fiyero's ankle delicately - he doesn't put him quite on his toes, two fingers tucked between the rope and Fiyero's skin to gauge the tension. He wants it tight but comfortable, and with maybe a little room to squirm. The squirming can be very fun, after all.

"You're unfairly attractive, you know that?" Peter teases gently, running his fingertips over Fiyero's thigh before he loops the rope beneath Fiyero's leg, tightening it to fit. "Is this good?"

When both of Fiyero's thighs are tied to the chair, Peter gives the rope a pull, letting Fiyero feel the tension, the way it would be if he strained against it. He rises, hand dragging over Fiyero's bare skin - up his thigh, his shoulder - until Peter can wrap his arms around Fiyero's neck, tucking his chin over Fiyero's shoulder. The view is something else - ropes contrast against Fiyero's skin, his cock standing at eager attention. Peter presses a kiss to Fiyero's cheek, hands sliding down Fiyero's arms until he starts tying up Fiyero's biceps, too.

Just as Peter is turned on by Fiyero positioning himself and showing just how to make him helpless, Fiyero is turned on by doing it. It's like when they were in bed earlier, Fiyero spreading himself across Peter's lap, except this takes a lot more effort and time to achieve. Which is part of the excitement. Sure, his cock might be getting a break from being touched, but his level of arousal is definitely not going down. This is just another way of building the anticipation.

And it's paired with such gentle care, Fiyero finding himself getting warmer Peter kisses him so sweetly. It makes him feel so safe, not just when it comes to being tied up, but... in every way.

Fiyero is being a very good boy, collaborating fully with Peter. He's the only one who can tell how it actually feels, after all. Where he feels the strain and pressure, what position he thinks he can maintain for a long time. "Maybe another loop," he suggests, shifting his leg to test. The rope is thick enough that it doesn't feel like it cuts into his skin, but the more surface they spread the rope out over, the less strain there is on one place.

In the end, there is room to squirm, just not in ways that would really let him chase the pleasure. He can spread his thighs further, he can lift his feet off the ground, or he could pull himself up enough to relieve the pressure on his thighs. But it's also supporting him, so when he relaxes he can sit quite comfortably and wait, for however long he needs. Or at least until his joints start getting stiff. At this point, he's pretty sure he's way too hard to actually get bored.

The final testing tug on the rope makes Fiyero's stomach squirm a little. Fuck, he really is lucky, that Peter is so happy to do all this for him. And then Peter leans down to hug him from behind, and Fiyero sighs, leaning his head back, turning to nuzzle against his lovely boyfriend. Hands behind him, reaching out to touch Peter's thighs, the only part of him he can reach. Breathing him in for a moment, the affection only heightening everything else, making him feel so good.

Fiyero's still smiling as Peter pulls away and they get to work on his arms. He quickly suggests putting a blanket or towel or something across the back of the chair, something to give some padding. Having sat like that for a little while now, he can feel the way the wood would start to dig into him with that position, especially if he started putting more weight on it.

After that, he can't really see what Peter's doing, so he can only give feedback on what it feels like. Having another rope comes in handy, too - even if they're both long, it means they can avoid what happened before with the rope that connects arms and legs. He shows just how close he can press his arms together - he's very flexible, to the main barrier is his muscles - so they can make it a little looser than that. Testing so they can avoid the rope falling down if he shifts, though looping it around each of his shoulders once fixes that.

Also on the plus side, with the way he's sitting and using two different ropes, his arms being tied together isn't dependent on being tied to the chair. Fastening it to the back of the chair at the end stops him from being able to lean forward - but even without it, he doesn't have enough leeway to really do anything.

He tests it, and his arms are flexible enough that he can lean all the way forward, arms gathered behind him, wrists resting on the back of the chair. "If you tied me like this, you could probably fuck my mouth easily..." he comments, his cock twitching at the thought. Add the gag? Not to give Peter any ideas or anything... Well, alright, that's exactly what he's doing.

Or Peter could untie his legs, keep the ropes around his arms, and just have him kneel down. There's a lot of delicious options. Fiyero rather likes the idea of having his arms tied back like this while he's moved around. Not able to do anything except follow Peter's commands.

Is it any wonder he's still hard?

It's just evident how much Fiyero wants him, and how is that not supposed to turn him on? Yes, some of it is definitely spurred on by how much the rope excites them both - but it wouldn't be the same if it wasn't with each other. Fiyero is patient as Peter figures out the knots, taking extra care to ensure each one is comfortable and safe. He moves the book reading up on his priority list - if they're doing this, he's going to need it. Maybe he should tie Fiyero up and read it to him, all the different things they could do...

Peter obliges Fiyero's suggestions, working and weaving the ropes. It's a pretty piece of handiwork when he's done, completely pinning Fiyero to the chair, with the quilt behind him as padding. Maybe they should invest in a cushion, if they take to doing this more often... a washable one, of course. Peter hums, tugging on Fiyero's arms - making sure those knots are comfortable, too, not too tight as it binds Fiyero's arms together. They're lucky Fiyero is so flexible, or this wouldn't be nearly as achievable.

Peter watches Fiyero lean forward, adjusting himself in his boxers when his own cock responds to the suggestion. He tugs Fiyero back with a pull on the rope, squaring his shoulders against the chair. Peter fastens the rope lightly to the chair, giving Fiyero some leeway to lean forward, though not as much as he'd gotten before. He leans down, burying his face in Fiyero's neck with a soft groan - he gives Fiyero another lovebite on his shoulder, just because he can and he wants to, especially since he has to focus on getting another post done before he's going to allow himself to touch Fiyero again. Fiyero, with his perfect, delectable, hard cock on display, nearly bobbing up against his stomach.

"Is that what you want, for your next reward?" Peter purrs, nuzzling up the side of Fiyero's head. He lets his hips bump forward, erection brushing Fiyero's helpless hands, just letting him know it's there before Peter pulls back, rounding the chair again. "If you're good, that can be arranged..."

"If you're not," Peter reaches down to let his fingertips ghost Fiyero's cock - there's nothing he can do, no purchase to be had with the way he's tied. He has to simply endure the light, teasing touch, until Peter pulls his hand away. "Maybe I'll just make you watch me. Paint your face with my come, no touching allowed..."

With another wink, Peter forces himself to turn away - which is getting progressively more difficult the longer this goes on. He runs a hand back through his hair, blinking at the project behind him - right, the posts. Simple, four screws in the bottom, two along the bar. Peter huffs a deep breath and gets to work, lining up the metal and retrieving the power drill from where he'd discarded it - though he can't help but look back at Fiyero, unable to draw his eyes away and ignore him completely. Not like this, when he makes such a captivating picture.

Fiyero can clearly be patient when he's enjoying the process of something. Peter's deft hands moving across his skin. The way he gets more and more restricted, slowly settling into his chosen fate. The look of it, black ropes looping across his skin. The distraction that makes his arousal just bearable enough. The way Peter looks at him, the affectionate touches.

It's sitting there quietly while Peter works that might be a problem. Though at least a problem he can't do much about, and.. Well, hopefully just enjoyable enough to offset the impatience.

Fiyero gives a soft 'oof' as his back his chair when Peter pulls him back, and that's hot too. The way Peter can just manhandle him that much easier. It's not like he has to struggle with catching Fiyero's wrists or pinning him down just right - he can just sort of drag him around. If he was tied like this without the chair, just with his ankles to his thighs - the way Fiyero's been thinking about doing to Peter - he could just toss him on the bed. Arrange him the way he wants. Set him down on the floor to fuck his mouth. Definitely another thing they should try...

The lovebite earns a soft noise of approval, tilting his neck to give Peter access, while also trying to snuggle against him. "Mmm, yes.." he answers softly, eyes closed. An impulsive response, really - you'd think the next thing he would want would be to be touched again. But no, having Peter fuck his mouth sounds amazing, actually. Having Peter just come on his face? Less amazing, but still hot. Perhaps just the right balance between hot and mean that it wouldn't be the worst punishment.

And then Peter finally lets go of him, turning back towards the bed. Fiyero opens his mouth, closes it and bites his lip, wondering if the 'don't distract' rule has come into play yet. "Peter?" he says, chancing that as long as Peter hasn't actually started working yet, it's okay. "Could I... Could you gag me too? Please?" he asks, blush intensifying a little as he does so.

It's kind of impressive, that Fiyero is managing to ask for things. Especially things that turn him on but that still feel kind of taboo or extra naughty. Perhaps it's their collaboration that makes it a bit easier. Perhaps it's just how sweet Peter is being, that makes it feel safer, welcome. For one thing, it'll make it far easier for him not to be distracting, by not having to resist trying to talk. It also feels extra hot, strengthening that helpless feeling. And, well, if Peter wants to fuck him afterwards, it'll keep him nice and ready for that, won't it?

Hopefully the anticipation is enough to occupy him; focusing on the sensuality of his situation, instead of the time passing by. Perhaps enjoying the show, as Peter moves and builds, nearly naked? Ideally, there’s enough going on that Fiyero won’t be bored, even though the five minutes it will take Peter for the next post will feel like eons to Fiyero.

Peter tries to focus more on what he’s doing than the twitch he can feel in his groin, knowing the next reward for them both will be very good (and it would behoove him to center himself before operating a power tool) - but then Fiyero is calling out for him, and Peter pauses, eyes flitting up to look at him. Naked, bound, hard as a rock and blushing so beautifully, Peter should definitely take a picture. He sets the drill aside - because how can he say no to that? - and rises again to move over to Fiyero. He still hasn’t said anything, and maybe that ramps up the tension as Peter frees Fiyero’s lip from his teeth with a brush of his thumb. He lets it press into Fiyero’s mouth, against the soft heat of his tongue. It’s a dominating gesture, a command and a demand all in one, and Peter pairs it with a smile, eyes dark with lust. He can’t help it - the gag they bought has given him plenty of ideas, too.

“Someone just wants to play with all the new toys.” A light tease, but a happy one; as if Peter is going to deny Fiyero asking him to gag him. How on earth is this his life? Peter pulls his hand away and crosses back into the kitchen to retrieve the toy. It’s a simple thing, straps and a ring for Fiyero’s teeth that can be swapped with the ball attachment. Peter leaves the ring on and crosses behind Fiyero, hovering out of sight for a moment - once again building the anticipation, the tension that feels like an electric charge between them.

He starts with a light touch, stroking the back of two fingers against Fiyero’s neck. His other hand rises with the gag, placing it between Fiyero’s lips, helping him position it properly in his mouth. Peter bends, kissing against the side of Fiyero’s head as he draws the straps around to fasten them, checking the tension with the slide of his fingers against the band.

It’s all very sensual and heated, and Peter drags his fingers through Fiyero’s hair when he finishes, mussing it nicely. He returns to Fiyero’s line of sight, circling to his front - pupils blown wide with arousal. And that’s before Peter sees what he looks like…

There is definitely tension as Peter approaches without a word. It's not that Fiyero expects Peter to be angry. But he also doesn't know exactly what to expect. Fiyero stays silent, eyes flitting down to Peter's tented underwear, before fixating on his expression.

Fiyero's mouth parts easily against Peter's thumb, feeling the blush creeping down his neck at the way Peter is looking at him. The way he demands entry into Fiyero's mouth, so easily. Well, he won't have to demand it any more, if he grants Fiyero's request. It'll simply be there for him to take whenever he wants, and that's even hotter. Fiyero stays silent, but he does wrap his lips around Peter's thumb, sucking gently, eyes locked on Peter's.

There's a slight pop as Peter pulls his hand back. Fiyero stays silent, feeling permanently warm at the slight tease. But it wasn't a refusal, and Peter is smiling happily, and it makes Fiyero feel all sorts of ways inside.

He can turn his head enough to watch him go into the kitchen, but faces front as Peter steps behind him. Even the anticipation for this is intense. "Thank you, baby," he breathes, realising suddenly that he won't be able to say anything for a while. And while begging to be gagged are pretty good last words - it's even better to let Peter know how happy he is.

His mouth opens obediently, nice and wide the moment Peter holds the gag in front of him. It fits easily between his teeth, not enough to strain his jaw. It feels like it could almost too easily fall out - at least until Peter fastens the straps. All of a sudden, he can tell it's not going anywhere, and he lets out a soft, needy whimper. He can't help himself.

Fiyero feels lightheaded with lust, his cock aching. All of him aching to be touched. He looks a little dazed when Peter steps around to look at him. Peter taking his time and being sensual definitely seems to have done something to Fiyero, making him all the more aware of his situation, and blocking out everything outside of it. He's never been this helpless without Peter even having to lift a finger to keep him that way.

He blinks up at Peter, and he can't help the pleading, vulnerable look on his face. His lips wrapped around the ring, keeping his mouth open for whatever Peter would like to do with him. The way his legs are pulled back, barely in contact with the floor makes him feel almost suspended, a little unbalanced. It didn't quite hit him until now. Something about taking his words away made everything else so much more intense.

But oh, Peter looks so appreciative of his work, like he wants to devour Fiyero whole. Fiyero squirms, pulling against the ropes, drawing his thighs together - or trying, the ropes pressing against his flesh, making it impossible. He's not sure if he's doing it to show Peter just how helpless he is, or to prove it to himself. Probably both. Another soft little wanton moan escapes him, quiet but utterly shameless.

Fiyero is atypically silent as Peter draws it out and makes him wait, and that just makes the air feel even thicker, more charged. This is a lesson in patience, after all, they might as well enjoy it.

“You,” Peter punctuates his words with kisses as he situates the gag, nuzzling against the side of Fiyero’s head fondly. Affectionate, even in the middle of this very lewd tableau. It’s a reassurance, an answer to Fiyero’s clear joy at getting what he wants - affection, always. “are very, very welcome…”

The sight that greets him when he rounds Fiyero’s chair - it would have sent him into a coma last week. Fiyero looks intensely turned on, of course - but undeniably vulnerable, and wholly and completely sexy. Nude, aroused, totally bound by the rope, reduced to whines and noises by the gag. Fiyero squirms, and Peter’s gaze traces down his body - his bulging thighs, muscles tense against the rope. There’s nothing he can do to get an ounce of friction on his shiny erection, not having flagged a wink while Peter was putting the gag in.

“Good boy,” Peter murmurs, and he takes a second to figure out what the best nonverbal signal could be. Fiyero’s pretty well-secured…

Peter runs a hand through his hair, gently pushing his head back to capture his attention. “You can’t safeword like this the normal way. If you need something, if you’re in any pain, I want you to hum, okay? Loud and constant, and I’ll know it’s on purpose.”

That’s a good signal, he thinks. Something he can hear, something that won’t be an accidental groan. Peter smiles, touching his forefinger to Fiyero’s bottom lip. “Another post, another reward. You’re so close, just a little longer, sweetheart. You can be good for me, can’t you?”

“It’d be a shame to leave this mouth unfucked,” Peter murmurs, hooking his finger just inside the ring. It’s possessive, casual - he can just do that and Fiyero only has one way to stop him. He can do anything, really. Including leaving Fiyero hanging…

Peter turns away, back to the bed, but pauses for a second. Actually… he can do anything. Anything covers taking pictures. Peter veers for his backpack, unearthing it from the desk and digging out his camera. He waves it playfully at Fiyero, flicking it on with his thumb and lining up a full body shot. “You look too good, baby.”

Peter snaps a few shots for his impromptu photoshoot - capturing Fiyero’s full situation, a portrait shot of his face, and a couple sensual, artsy angles that are too good to resist - close up on the rope and the tension in Fiyero’s body, his face unfocused in the background. Capturing Fiyero’s blush, the crimson warm on his skin, contrasted with the black band of the gag.

When he’s taken a good chunk of photos, Peter rewinds to the beginning to review them. He turns the viewscreen around for Fiyero, showing him the images, holding up the mirror, so to speak. Peter waits until Fiyero looks back up at him to smirk a little bit, eyebrows rising cheekily. “You’re gorgeous, ‘yero, I needed a before picture.”

Peter kisses his burning cheek, tilting his head to whisper in Fiyero’s ear. “We’ll take one after, too.”

Edited 2025-11-28 06:29 (UTC)

Fiyero is starting to get the appeal of being called a good boy. It goes with the rest of the affection, and.. Well, Fiyero is actually trying to behave, for once. Give him achievable challenges that are enjoyable to do, and then praise for his efforts actually start to mean something.

He blinks up at Peter as he pushes his head back, focusing in. He does feel a little bit pleasantly hazy, but he's not out of it. He gives a nod of understanding, and a soft "Uh-huh." At least he can say that much. But he doubts 'codeword' would be remotely understandable, and easily mistaken for other noises.

Another small nod promising to be good, looking up at Peter with big blue eyes. He blinks as Peter hooks his finger inside the ring, but he doesn't pull back. Instead he flicks his tongue up against the finger, almost like a touch of affection. He can still use his tongue, and he definitely will, when he gets the chance.

Which will be after he sits there being patient and quiet. Something he's preparing himself to do, until Peter changes direction and goes to grab his camera - which definitely has Fiyero blushing, his eyes widening a little.

He's embarrassed at first, ducking his head a little, giving a little whine of objection. (Just a little one.) Usually he's completely fine with having his picture taken, happily posing. Feeling this vulnerable, though? It's a surprisingly intense feeling, having Peter study him like that. Fiyero can't hide anything, his cock in particular on proud display. No one's ever gotten to see him like this. Now Peter is memorialising it.

After a moment of getting used to it though, he can't help but smile - as much as he's able to while wearing the gag. His cheeks puff up and his eyes crinkle, still bashful, but not unpleasantly so. That blush definitely isn't going away though. It does feel nice, Peter admiring him like this, even if it's also very embarrassing.

It's even worse when Peter shows him the pictures, but... Oz, is it also extremely hot.

Peter kisses his cheek, and Fiyero shivers at the whisper against his ear. He huffs and gives Peter a playfully annoyed look. But he's smiling far too much for it to look remotely like genuine disapproval.

Fiyero's eyes are wide, expressive and bright as they turn up towards him. The hint of tongue, too, a nonverbal communicator that gets his point across very well, and something that almost tempts Peter to say fuck it - but patience, right? It's worth it for the photos, the permanent pink etched into Fiyero's visage. It's one thing to want this - trussed up and on display, served up for Peter to toy with him - and another to confront it.

But it's not a bad thing, and if Fiyero has an issue with the photos later, Peter would be totally fine deleting them. But he wants Fiyero to see it, to understand how Peter sees him; as something beautiful, something perfect, something worth keeping for posterity, certainly. And yes - something almost unbearably hot. How Peter finds the willpower to turn away to his task, he's honestly not sure - but do it he must.

He sets the camera aside, sure that Fiyero isn't going anywhere, and gets back to work. Peter is, in truth, distracted; just knowing Fiyero is there, waiting, wanting him, it's hard to ignore. Being aware of just how hard he is, trapped beneath his boxers, also isn't helping. He has to reposition the post a couple times, soft whirs of the drill screwing into the wood, mind drifting. Jeez, how is he supposed to get anything done? He's already thinking about the way he currently has Fiyero tied up, how those exact knots would be great for sticking Fiyero beneath his desk, keeping him warm while he studied...

It's not a new fantasy, and perhaps telling with how much of a dork he is (and how he's pretty much never not working on something...) - what's new is having someone to star in said fantasy. Peter coughs and has to readjust himself, finishing up the third bedpost. He gives it a tug when he's done to ensure it's secure, not as confident in his abilities given how preoccupied he was, but it seems sufficient. Good - three down, one to go.

Fiyero watches as Peter finally gets back to work, and he draws in a deep slow breath, like trying to ground himself. Looking down at himself, it's... Oz, it's a lot. His cock just sort of hovering there between his spread legs, the black rope against his thighs.. He can't even see the rest, but thanks to Peter, he's not got a very clear mental image of exactly what he looks like...

Leaning his head forward is a bad idea though, as he feels a tiny bit of drool make its way over his lower lip and down his chin before he has a chance to turn his head up. His shoulders are pulled back in this position, so he can't really wipe it off either, so.. Another thing that adds to the blush.

He shifts his position a bit, finding the most comfortable way to sit, and then he just... sits. Eyes closed, listening to the noises of Peter working and the music still playing, occasionally opening his eyes at the louder sound of the drill.

It's surprising how calm he feels. That pleasant haziness has settled something inside him, letting him just focus on the moment. Of the sensation of the ropes against his skin, the gentle ache of being stuck in his position. The arousal still thrumming quietly through him. Yes, he wants Peter come to play with him some more - but in the meantime, he's resigned to his fate.

A sudden thought pops into his head - someone just wants to play with all the new toys - and he suddenly imagines if that were true. If Peter had put that plug inside Fiyero, playing with the vibrations while he was sitting here, helpless and desperate. Making sure there was absolutely no way for him to relax, but also not enough pleasure to push him over the edge. Even knowing he's not supposed to distract, Fiyero makes a soft noise just at the thought. He can't help it.

When Peter turns back to Fiyero at the noise, he looks to be lost in sensation, maybe, imagination? His lashes are a dark blur against his skin, wetness on his chin and Peter hasn't even started. It also strikes Peter as oddly cute, between the light flush and the defenseless nature of Fiyero's current position. Peter holds onto the fond swelling in his chest at the sight, movements quiet as he sets down the tools and returns to Fiyero's side. If his touch comes as a surprise, perhaps it only heightens whatever Fiyero's thinking about - be it fantasy or physical.

His fingertips graze Fiyero's cock, brushing along the shaft. His prince is still fairly hard, nowhere close to soft enough to rest against his leg; Peter lets his touch trail upward, skirting the rope to feel up Fiyero's abdomen, his chest, his neck. Peter's hand pauses there, palm flat on the back of Fiyero's neck, his gaze fixed singularly on Fiyero. "I'm going to take that as, 'I'm excited for my reward.'"

"Very excited," Peter wipes away the wetness with his thumb, releasing Fiyero to tuck his fingers in the waistband of his boxers, still obstructing Fiyero's view to his reward. Peter grins playfully, dragging them down a few inches to reveal the cut of his hip, the suggestive outline of his erection in relief. What's more, there's absolutely nothing Fiyero can do to stop the dorky, stupid, somehow-still-kinda-sexy pun. "Practically gagging for it."

Peter doesn't opt to remove his boxers, instead moving to free Fiyero's tied arms from the back of the chair. It allows Fiyero the freedom of movement to bend his upper half as he had before, but Peter leaves his arms bound together, legs spread, suspended. Frankly, Peter's probably strong enough to hold the back of the chair and leave Fiyero tied to it - to use his mouth upside down. Another time, maybe. Peter winds a hand in Fiyero's hair and circles back to face him; Peter's grip, formerly teasingly light, becomes a demand, a direction, tugging Fiyero to bend forward.

Peter's confident that Fiyero will both go willingly and stay, so his hands return to shimmying his boxers down, a striptease for a particularly captive audience. Finally, Peter pushes them off, fabric pooling at his feet and cock immediately springing to attention, directly in front of Fiyero's face.

Fiyero doesn't notice Peter returning to his side, so he startles just a little at the sudden touch, letting out a surprised whimper as his cock twitches in response. The surprise settles into yearning very quickly, giving a shuddering breath as Peter's hand brushes across his skin. There's an almost electric tingle following the touch, but not because Peter is doing anything special. It just feels like his nerves are extra sensitive.

He gives an agreeing hum, nodding a little as Peter wipes his chin. He hadn't realised that much time had passed, and now-- Oh, yes... Fiyero can feel his mouth watering at the promise of his reward, and the way Peter teases it. It's probably a sign of the headspace he's in and how aroused he is, he doesn't even seem to react much to the pun.

He sits quietly, patient, as Peter messes with the ropes. The pressure against his arms doesn't loosen, but he realises quickly that Peter's detached him from the chair. The way his hand in Fiyero's hair tightens only works to solidify Fiyero's headspace as a beloved toy for Peter to play with and fuck to his heart's content.

Fiyero doesn't take any effort to pull down, following quickly and happily. The only resistance is that he needs to lift his arms back to move over the back of the chair. Peter pulls him just far enough that his hands more or less rest on the back of the chair. The ropes tying his arms together only goes down to just past the elbows - avoiding his strained wrists - so while he can't pull his arms apart, he does have a little bit of freedom of movement in the wrists. It allows him to turn his hands so he can actually grip the back of his chair, steadying himself. Just in time for Peter's cock to bob in front of him.

While the bottom of his mouth is wet with spit, the roof of it as well as the pad of his tongue has dried. He wets the tip of his tongue to lick the roof of his mouth as best he can - it's not easy with his mouth this far open. Fiyero's brand new to giving blowjobs in general, and already he's being given new challenges. He's not complaining though.

In fact, by the way he sticks his tongue out invitingly towards Peter's cock and makes a soft encouraging noise, he's as happy as can be.

Fiyero leans forward easily, eagerly, eyes intent on his prize. Being the subject of his enthusiasm is heady, and Peter grips himself, palm rubbing a quick stripe up his shaft. Touching himself, right in front of Fiyero, to Fiyero, openly and boldly. The way he's leaning, Fiyero has to whine for him, tongue beckoning, tempting him in; he can't get any more than what Peter gives him. Peter groans in response, jacking himself casually; He lets the head of his cock bump Fiyero's tongue, then smears it against Fiyero's lower lip. Fiyero might be new to oral - new to everything in some sense - but practice made perfect, and Peter did not mind helping out.

"Instead of letting me touch you," Peter hums, slowly feeding his cock through the gag; Fiyero just has to take it, make use of his tongue and throat, and allow Peter to set the pace. He fucks in shallowly, letting his cock bump against Fiyero's tongue, the inside of his cheek. His mouth is a little dry from being left to hang open, but he'd start drooling soon enough, with something to suck on. "You wanted this. You wanted to be held open and fucked..."

Peter's hands find Fiyero's hair, tugging on it as he rests in Fiyero's mouth, about a third of his cock sliding against Fiyero's tongue. His hips set a steady pace, lightly fucking into his boyfriend's waiting mouth until it started to become easier, saliva easing the way. He's letting Fiyero's body dictate for the moment, pressing in until he's fucking at least half his cock back and forth against Fiyero's tongue.

"So good for me, fuck baby - " Peter pets through Fiyero's hair with one hand, the other coiled tightly in his locks already, pulling lightly. He doesn't have to be particularly rough for it to be effective - just rough enough to be commanding, while hopefully not detracting from the way the ropes all pulled at Fiyero, keeping him strung up and helpless to Peter's whims. "Just relax, let me have your mouth. It's mine. You're mine, and you're so very good at it - oh, yes..."

Beloved toy indeed, as Peter starts to speed up a little, Fiyero's mouth wet, warm, and tight around him. They can't do anything crazy deep from this angle, but that's not a requirement; it still feels incredible. Peter's watching Fiyero for any sign that it's too much, fingers sliding to the back of his head, adjusting his grip to help him press forward. If Fiyero had the plug in while they were doing this... or, once again, trapped beneath his desk with a full mouth, something to muffle the whimpers as Peter cranked the vibration again...

"They sell a cock attachment for this gag," Peter's pace slows again, not wanting to build up too quickly; he's wound tight himself, honestly. "Instead of a ring, or the ball. You look so pretty with a cock in your mouth, maybe next time we'll get you one."

Peter just standing there touching himself in front of Fiyero, when his mouth is right there, is rather rude. Especially knowing that Peter is sensitive and comes easily, and he's been hard for a while now too. Why waste it with his hand, when Fiyero's mouth is right here?

Obviously to tease him, and he's very predictable, because it's working. All he can really do is wiggle a little, maybe lean further forward if he lets go of the back of the chair, but then he starts getting too low. Thankfully Peter doesn't keep taunting him like that for too long, giving Fiyero what he's practically begging for.

His body might object, his cock dully aching with need, but Fiyero has no regrets as Peter reminds him that this is what he requested. Bent over like this, his erection is brushing lightly up against his stomach. It's almost worse than before, the grazing tongues just reminding him what he can't have, making him all the more aware of his denial. Yet what he's really craving is exactly this, letting Peter fuck him and take his pleasure, and he gives an appreciative moan to let Peter know as much.

It's a surprisingly different experience... He can't quite close his lips around Peter to suck, at least not until he's deeper in. He also can't move spit around his mouth the same way, having to rely on Peter's cock to literally slick up against the tip of his tongue. What he can do is press his tongue up against him, alternating between the entire flat surface, or the tip of his tongue. He's not really thinking about it consciously, but preventing him from doing certain things lets him really focus in on the things he can do.

That's just the physical aspect though. Mentally... It's even stronger than when Peter was fucking him into the pillow. Peter's hand in his hair ensures he can't move, but having his mouth so firmly propped open by the metal against his teeth is a little dizzying. Peter could literally choke him on his dick, and Fiyero would be helpless to do anything to stop him. He wants it, a little, to have Peter press deep into his throat, force him to hold his breath, to wonder just how long he's going to keep him there as his lungs start burning.

It's probably best he doesn't, at least not yet. Fiyero's already ecstatic just getting to taste Peter's dick, to feel his hand in his hair, to hear his voice and his sweet words, the way his breath picks up...

Fiyero lets out a drawn out groan, humming around Peter's cock filling his mouth up. His eyes are closed, too bent forward to be able to really look up at Peter anyway, but he tries to bend his neck back as far as he can, to let Peter go deep. He can already feel the drool going down his chin now. Peter calls him his, and Fiyero whines with need. It's all he can really do, all he has is his noises and his tongue. He relaxes his jaw, opening his mouth further around the gag - even without being pinned between his teeth, it stays secure by the straps. Fiyero's swallowing, trying to give as much space as possible for Peter's cock, almost trying to invite him in. If anything, Fiyero's giving signs that it's not enough.

He whines once again, though whether it's because Peter slowed down or because he's talking about strapping a cock into Fiyero's mouth, is unclear, including to Fiyero himself. That sure would be a way to train him to keep a cock in his mouth, wouldn't it? His dick twitches a little at the thought. As resistant as he seems to be to challenges and behaving, the thought of Peter training him is still really hot...

Fiyero is definitely telegraphing his enjoyment, moaning and writhing in his bonds as much as he can. So grateful to be taken, when Peter finally stops teasing him and gives him his reward - Peter's lucky he doesn't blow it right there, on the first press into Fiyero's waiting mouth. He knows he won't last long, but this is what Fiyero wants - to be a vehicle for Peter's pleasure. To be taken, used, trapped in his own arousal. Held open like this, Fiyero can barely control anything - he can't suck properly or use his lips, can't meet Peter's thrusts with the bob of his head, can't move much at all.

He chuckles at the high whine Fiyero gives him, taking that as an approval and a protest. Funny how it can be both at the same time; but Fiyero seems to have adapted well to his impromptu lesson so far. If this was fun, maybe Fiyero will discover behaving has it's perks - or maybe that's a fun punishment, nursing a fake cock instead of a real one... or it could be used to occupy him when Peter's too sensitive himself... the options for things they could try really are endless.

Saliva and wetness start to collect on Fiyero's chin, the way forward getting easier to push through with the additional lubrication. Peter can feel Fiyero's throat fluttering, swallowing enticingly, like if he proves he's thirsty enough, Peter will indulge and bury himself in Fiyero's throat.

How is he supposed to resist an invitation like that?

"My Fiyero," Peter groans, tipping his head back and rocking forward, fucking Fiyero's face in one long, slow stroke. His legs are shaking a little with the effort it's taking to hold back; it feels too good, and he's a hair trigger on a good day. The motion presses him deep, but slowly enough that Fiyero will feel it coming; as Peter said, he doesn't have to be rough, and the casual nature of his manhandling confidently sexy, while also ensuring he's not giving Fiyero more than he can handle. They're not trying to push limits, they're just trying to enjoy themselves.

When Peter's almost fully seated in Fiyero's mouth - which does probably cut off his air, at least for this brief moment - he runs a hand through Fiyero's hair possessively and gives him a simple command: "Swallow."

"This what you want, baby? Just me, as deep as you can have me, hm?" Peter hums sweetly, grip tightening at the sensation - oh, he really is right on the razor's edge of blowing it, fuck. "That's it - 'yero I'm going to - I can't - "

Peter pulls his hips back, giving Fiyero air again, but doesn't take his cock out of Fiyero's mouth. Instead, he starts thrusting, humping Fiyero's face and chasing release with a shaky need churning in his gut. It doesn't take more than three pumps of his hips before he's coming with a choked cry, spilling into Fiyero's warm mouth.

It's proving to be a very effective way of taking Fiyero out of his own head, and that's probably what he's so desperate for. Submitting to Peter, to his helplessness. There is nothing he can do, and there is nothing he's expected to do. All other thoughts fade away, even more so than before. A blissful emptiness, just swimming in the sensory experiences and his own internal need.

The more Peter fucks his mouth, the less of an active participant Fiyero gets. His muscles relaxing, held up by the ropes and Peter's hand in his hair. It might have been worrying, the way he relaxes, if it weren't for the moans and needy little whimpers. If he wanted to escape, he could make that easily very clear just by actually struggling, even if he didn't remember to hum. The more Peter fucks his mouth, the noisier he also gets, in a completely unintentional unselfconscious way.

Finally Peter pushes all the way in, Fiyero drawing an instinctive breath through his nose before he can't. The command seems to go straight to his motor reflexes, bypassing his brain entirely, making him swallow Peter down. Helpless not only to Peter, but to his own body's responses.

It aches in his throat, stretching him out to fit Peter's cock. His lips finally manage to wrap around Peter's cock at the base, but there's no way for him to suck now. So Fiyero doesn't do anything, suspended in a moment that feels like it lasts forever. Literally suspended between ropes and possessive hands. Terribly helpless and vulnerable, trapped and breathless, but also completely safe.

He doesn't answer Peter's words, not really hearing them beyond the comforting warm sound, just letting out a breath along with Peter's cock, then a soft gasp as his body remembers to breathe. It wasn't nearly long enough for his lungs to start burning, which is probably for the best as he quickly catches his breath as Peter fucks more quickly into his mouth.

He knows that Peter's going to come, though whether that's because of the warning or because he recognises those desperate movements, it doesn't really matter. The cum hits his tongue and the back of his throat, and he swallows as best he can. But without the ability to wrap his lips around Peter and suck it all down, a fair amount comes dribbling down his chin.

Fiyero should feel embarrassed about that. He's a complete mess. Flushed, covered in spit and cum, looking more than a little out of it. Trussed up by his own volition, probably the least respectable he could ever look. But any shred of vanity has gone along with the rest too. It doesn't matter if he looks gross or if he's nothing but a passive receptacle for Peter's cock. Peter still cares for him, protects him, cherishes him...

That's what all of this is ultimately for, isn't it; release, in more ways than just the obvious. Submission to circumstances outside of Fiyero's control, a method of playing with force that is in no way violating. Fiyero has had too much of that already in his time here; but with Peter, he is safe. Cared for, appreciated - the objectification of Fiyero as a toy is just a game, not how Peter truly feels. Not how the scientists truly view him, as nothing more than a lab rat... even if this isn't something either of them are consciously thinking about, the why this feels so freeing is evident.

Fiyero's utterly shameless, moans garbled around the cock in his mouth, but he's perfectly pliant as he swallows, as he gives himself over to Peter's pleasure and allows Peter to shudder into his mouth without complaint, only encouragement. Peter pulls out carefully when the dizzying pleasure ebbs enough that he can gather himself, letting his cockhead swipe against Fiyero's lower lip. Messy, the drool and cum mix as they slide down Fiyero's chin, several drops pooling on the empty space of the chair, where Fiyero's legs have been spread wide. He's filthy in every way a person can be, and Peter doesn't know if he's ever been more turned on in his life.

"So good, baby, that was so good..." Peter pets through Fiyero's hair as he showers him in babbling praise, carefully guiding Fiyero to sit up again. He's trying to be conscientious of Fiyero's muscles, which probably tired and taut from holding the position, even for the brief time he was in it. Peter's hands smooth along Fiyero's arms, rubbing firmly along his biceps as he settles. "There you go, just rest here for me, okay?"

Peter snags the camera with nimble fingers after a moment of lightly stroking through Fiyero's hair, lining up and taking a couple of pictures, as promised - before he disappears to the kitchen, the sound of the sink turning on the only indication of what he's doing. He announces his return with a warm towel, wiping up Fiyero's chin - again, from behind, the same way he did the gag. Sensual and reverent, Peter cleans away the bodily fluids, swiping the cloth over Fiyero's chest, the wood of the chair. He nuzzles into the side of Fiyero's head affectionately, before taking a brief moment to wipe his own thighs, discarding the towel when he's done.

Whether or not Fiyero even noticed Peter taking the photos, he'll hardly be able to avoid them. Peter perches himself on Fiyero's bound thigh, his weight light in the way he balances, casually using Fiyero as his personal chair without adding extra stress. He winds an arm around Fiyero's shoulders, other hand occupied holding the camera, showing off the before photos they'd taken. He flips through them without comment, before the new photos - Fiyero, thoroughly debauched, used, claimed. The marks from earlier combined with the cum, the dazed look on his face and the flush in his cheeks, and how terribly, mercilessly hard his own cock was, ramrod straight with no potential for friction in sight; not unless Peter provided it. Allowed it. The cock he's still ignoring, now, because that was never part of this reward.

"Look at you," Peter murmurs, turning his face into Fiyero's neck, kissing his throat. "You're gorgeous, and you're all mine."

The thing about his objectification with Peter is that is has very clear boundaries. So far it's been very obvious to them both when exactly it's in play, and when it isn't. There's a conscious decision to agree to certain rules and actions. There may be surprises within that play, but even then, there's always a way out, if something turns out to be not as fun as they thought it would be. And if those boundaries start slipping, when they flirt and chat and come on to one another, then there's still care and attention paid to make sure it doesn't go bad.

And even if Peter was completely convincing in his objectification, if both of them were so deep in it - Peter cares for his toy. He would never break Fiyero, never give him more than he could handle. So even within the game itself, Fiyero is safe. It might be why they're both so firmly set in that affection comes first and foremost.

Even through Fiyero's hazy mind right now, that affection is what comes through strongest. The sweet praise, gentle touches, and careful guidance. Fiyero's almost limp in Peter's arms, using just enough core strength to keep himself upright. It's easy for Peter shift him back, his arms getting to relax, comparatively speaking, resting against the back of the chair rather than stretched up behind him. Peter's purposeful touches against his arms feel good on several levels.

He's only vaguely aware of his body's various aches, but they're mild. Some expected redness just around the ropes, but nothing beyond that. No evidence that he can't easily endure this a while longer - physically, at least. Mentally, it might depend on what's asked of him. He feels pleasantly out of it, though he's settling a little now that he's fulfilled his purpose for the moment. He gives a soft noise as Peter tells him to rest, proving he's not fully gone.

It does take him a moment to realise Peter is doing something. One of the last photos has Fiyero looking towards Peter, and by extension the camera, his eyes half-lidded but his expression one of uncomplicated calm and openness. In sharp contrast to the gag forcing his mouth open and the mess dribbling down his chin, a few drops falling down on his stomach now.

Fiyero doesn't fully process it right away - but being cleaned, that's simple enough that it makes sense. He lets out a grateful sigh, head leaning back against Peter, swallowing some of the cum and spit still left in his mouth. The taste is familiar now, something that triggers arousal - if he had room for any more. He's even harder now than he was in the pictures Peter took before. However much he softened while he was left alone has clearly come right back while being used again.

Peter sitting more or less in his lap is unexpected, and Fiyero gives a soft noise that may be interpreted as such. But oh, does it feel nice to feel Peter's body more fully against his, and he leans into, seeking his warmth. It takes him a second to even realise Peter is holding up the camera for him to see. He's not... sure how he feels about the photos, neither the earlier ones nor the new ones. He's not sure how he's supposed to feel, either. Though what he does feel, is Peter's pride and affection. It's more evident in the fact that Peter is showing him these in the first place, and the way he leans in to kiss his neck, giving him compliments.

Fiyero answers with a soft tired whine, turning his face towards Peter. Seeking out that affection after being used so casually and possessively.

Suddenly, the gag feels very in the way. He wants to kiss Peter back, wants to nuzzle against him without drooling everywhere. He wants to not be propped open anymore, to be allowed to relax. He wants it off him.

He gives a very brief unhappy sound, before he vaguely remembers Peter telling him something about humming. So he gives a more purposeful hum, and while he sounds uncomfortable he doesn't sound distressed, but it's a clear signal even if he doesn't sustain it very long. To make it more obvious what he's objecting to, he draws his neck back, pulling his jaw back and opening it as much as he can like he's trying to get the gag out, tonguing at the metal ring.

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