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

Fiyero straightens up a little as Peter starts walking over - as much as he can, his legs fairly locked into place. Peter didn't fasten his arms back to the chair, but he doesn't really need to, unless he wants to stop him from leaning forward. But it's not like leaning forward is going to prevent nor cause anything Peter wants to do to his cock, which is looking even more eager than Fiyero himself.

He smiles as Peter points out there were no distractions, nervous energy filling him as Peter kneels. Even just the touch against his thighs seems to tingle, making Fiyero flex his legs in anticipation, then spread his thighs encouragingly.

He's almost holding his breath as Peter kisses his way up Fiyero's thighs. He looks so gorgeous and so sexy like this, it's kind of mind-blowing. So he makes him huff a soft laugh as Peter says that's the same thing Fiyero is doing to be distracting.

"Can't help that," he manages playfully, his voice shaky and all breath. His entire body seems suddenly wound up tight with anticipation, as well as trying to steel himself so he doesn't just come immediately.

How successful he'll be remains to be seen, but it probably won't take too long. At least judging by how that first long lick has him whimpering shamelessly, leaning back in the chair, thrusting his hips out as far as they can go. Which isn’t much, but it does spread his thighs out wide. The weight of his upper body helps him remain in that position though, ropes digging into his thighs.

Another needy noise escapes him as Peter lets his lips drag against his cock, asking him if he's ready. He nods eagerly, chin pressed down towards his chest, watching Peter with rapt attention.

"Yes please," he breathes, which is probably the last coherent words that will come out of him for a while - with the possible exceptions of Peter's name and some swearwords. The tongue that follows immediately after drags a deep appreciative groan out if him.

The teasing build-up of the last minute was nothing. The noises pulled out of Fiyero were just as much to do with the anticipation and the lack of self-consciousness, and maybe trying to communicate his arousal and excitement to Peter. When Peter laps at the extremely sensitive head, groaning as he wraps his lips around him with a slurp, that's when Fiyero actually starts losing it.

He thinks he might come right there, but thankfully he's not as close as he feels like he is. Every lick and kiss feels like it's setting his nerves on fire in the best way. Fiyero writhes, arching and curling his back, twisting his torso, almost kicking his legs as he whimpers and moans.

It takes him a minute to acclimatise to it, already panting and swearing under his breath, but realising he's going to last longer than he thought. Which is still probably not very long, but enough to give Peter a chance to really drive him crazy...

The tension ramps higher with each moment Peter spends inching closer, building up his touches as he situates himself for the main event. Fiyero's stomach flutters with the tightness, the way Fiyero's gone rigid in some places bringing an irrepressible grin to Peter's lips. "No... you really can't, hm?"

Fiyero's need is all but palpable at this point, rock hard and ramrod straight. Fiyero squirms in the chair as he's made to endure the sensations Peter's mouth affords him, thighs shaking beneath Peter's hands. He tugs at the rope, using it to help restrict Fiyero; though at this point, it's not as if he's going much of anywhere. But it's a reminder and a tease, letting Fiyero feel the dig of the rope as Peter licks another long stripe, curling his tongue over Fiyero's weeping head.

"I could do this for hours," Peter hums, licking Fiyero again, each brush of his tongue a maddening, delicious tease. As much as Fiyero wants to struggle, there's nothing he can do to get more of Peter's mouth, and the power is a heady thing to be responsible for. Every noise out of Fiyero is music to his ears, and Peter gives him a brief chance to recover as he dips his head to pay attention to Fiyero's balls, sucking one into the heat of his mouth, then the other, releasing them with a wet pop.

"Maybe I should," He levers himself up to a comfortable position, propping an arm up on Fiyero's thigh so he can focus on small licks to Fiyero's oh-so-sensitive cockhead. "You taste so good, sweetheart. Feels good too, doesn't it? I could keep you, just like this, hard and ready for me..."

Peter wraps his lips around Fiyero's tip, tongue pressing to the bundle of nerves just under the head, and sucks. He groans happily, tugging on the rope again - pulling Fiyero's legs open, pinning them effectively to the seat. He can struggle all he wants, he's not going anywhere. Peter starts bobbing his head, messy, shallow bobs that fuck Fiyero's cockhead against his tongue, but don't take more of him in just yet. Peter continues like that until he's all but out of breath, red-faced and panting.

"Such a good boy for me," Peter praises, turning dark eyes up to Fiyero, taking in his visage. Between the desperately hard cock in front of his face and the flush, wide-pupil'd look on Fiyero's, Peter's sure he's driving him absolutely nuts. "My Fiyero..."

He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and opening his mouth. Saliva pooled, Peter starts to sink down on Fiyero - finally taking him into the promised heat, swallowing about half of him. His hand fists at Fiyero's base, covering the rest of him, stroking up to meet his lips. With a lewd, wet suction sound, Peter starts bobbing his head - sucking Fiyero's length, providing unrelenting pleasure after holding back for so long.

It's almost unbearable. The amount of build-up combined with being so completely tied up and having his face fucked and everything - it's made him incredibly sensitive. Just not necessarily in a way where he's actually that close to orgasm. Perhaps it's partly in his head. Being unable to control the intensity might in itself intensify it. It's impossible to think too hard about it, when he's busy enduring it.

Despite the fact it's occasionally veering into pleasure-pain, he's not complaining. No matter how overwhelming it feels, there's that physical need and desperation that's making him keep going - or allowing Peter to keep going, rather. And the trust and care between the two of them is what lets him give into something this strong.

He's far beyond speech already, but fuck, Peter's words really helps him fall right back into that helpless state. Imagining enduring hours of this just for Peter's entertainment... Just another kind of toy, really, not for physical pleasure, but for fun. Till he lost all semblance of time or anything outside of being Peter's plaything - even when he wasn't being played with. The thought of it makes him whimper in the way where it's not fully clear if he's even enjoying it.

The high moans and gasps and deep groans definitely makes it clear that he is. Even having Peter sucking on his balls, something Fiyero's never really thought much about or thought he enjoyed, has him shuddering with a different kind of pleasure. He can't respond, but he manages a rapid nodding at the question of whether it feels good. No matter how overpowering it is and part of him thinking he can't handle it, he desperately doesn't want Peter to stop.

Peter sucking on his cock-head like that definitely has the potential of earning them a noise complaint... His thighs are shaking under Peter's hands, throwing his head back with a loud, helpless cry of pleasure, before his breath catches in his throat. Tiny little gasps coupled with his whole upper body twitching forward. He's as red-faced and breathless as Peter, or more, by the time he pauses.

His head drops forward at the praise, looking down at Peter in a way where it looks like he's having trouble keeping his eyes open and his mouth closed, softly panting. His body briefly going almost limp with exhaustion as he's afforded a tiny break. He's too out of it to smile, but when Peter calls him his, he still nods. Yes, Peter's Fiyero. Completely.

Fiyero has the brief warning of Peter taking a breath, yet there's really no way to prepare himself. His head drops back and his back arches as he lets out a shameless wanton moan. Every time Peter sinks down on Fiyero's cock, it pulls a helpless noise out of his chest, and all he can do is lean back and take it. At this point, even if there's still pleasure-pain, the pleasure part outweighs the pain so solidly, it feels like it fills his entire body, radiating out from his groin.

He can't quite tell when he starts coming. It's, perhaps surprisingly, the opposite of explosive. Like he's already so tense and the pleasure just keeps building in a way where the waves of the orgasm just become part of the storm already happening. His exhausted aching thighs feel like they're on fire in the best kind of way, but it seems to ripple through his whole body, his bound arms in particular, and all the way out to his fingers and toes.

For Peter, it might be difficult to see where it begins as well - but the strongest tells is when the little spurts of pre-cum become bigger spurts, except there's several rather than just one or two. Like Fiyero has a dozen smaller orgasms, all adding up to a drawn-out climax where his mind seems to white out entirely. Unaware of the obscene noises he's making.

What is sudden is when it's enough, too much, as Fiyero's entire upper body jerks forward with a yelp, and his struggles suddenly turn briefly desperate. He's too lost to tell Peter to stop, at least right away, but it's unmistakable. He hadn't asked Peter to keep going this time, and if he could think, he would be glad he didn't - but then if there's one think Fiyero does know, it's that Peter has the power to do whatever he wants to him.

It's a complicated, tightrope of a line to walk, mixing fantasy with the reality of physical limitations. They've definitely been edging Fiyero for a while now - Peter probably should have set a timer, or a stopwatch, to know for how long. He's honestly surprised by how well Fiyero is holding out, even as his noises become louder, muscles quivering under Peter's ministrations. Peter doesn't let himself second-guess; Fiyero will safeword, or make it obvious when it's too much. That, Peter hopes, won't happen until after Fiyero has had his well-deserved orgasm...

Peter almost chokes himself on Fiyero in his eagerness, head bobbing fervently, dragging lips and tongue along his shaft, hand twisting up to meet his lips with each stroke. The noises coming out of him are just as filthy - if not as loud - as Fiyero; wet, muffled moans of desire. Fiyero's ring in his ears, each one a new thrill; Peter's free fingers curl against the rope and Fiyero's straining thighs, his other hand's grip squeezing, providing tightness as well as friction as he presses Fiyero's cock into his throat over, and over.

There's a pleasant hum at the back of Peter's hearing, so similar to his spidey sense it's almost like it's hitting the same frequency. Maybe it's just his own elation, buzzing across his skin; regardless, Fiyero's noises fuel the sensation, until Peter closes his eyes with a deep groan, putting all his focus on his rhythm, the feeling of Fiyero's body writhing beneath him, the din of his slurping and Fiyero's vulnerable whimpers taking over the whole of his attention.

Fiyero's orgasm is a slow thing, waves that grow shorter in between, staccato punches of release that elongate his pleasure, filling Peter's mouth with the taste of him. Peter takes Fiyero into his throat and swallows, brow furrowing as he tries to relax, to make sure he doesn't gag. Letting Fiyero ride out the climax in as much of Peter's mouth as he can manage to take...

The flow of Fiyero's release slows, and Peter's throat flutters around him one final time, preparing to pull back. Fiyero hits the eject button a second before Peter can, the desperation having a frantic quality rather than an ecstatic one, and Peter quickly pulls his head up, lips glistening and freshly pink from their activities. His hands quickly mould to Fiyero's hips, stilling him calmly, but decisively. "'ey - hey, nm - got you. I got you, baby."

His voice is very obviously strained from the blowjob, but Peter spares no concern to taking stock of himself when Fiyero is his chief preoccupation. Peter's hands fall to the ropes, loosening Fiyero's binds; the game is over, and Peter knows what Fiyero needs most after that is to rest, not remain strung up. The ropes at Fiyero's ankles come apart, and Peter slides it from Fiyero's lower half, discarding it to the side. His hands slide up Fiyero's legs, light squeezes along Fiyero's calves, his thighs. Fiyero's hands are still tied, but without his legs affixed to the chair, it would no doubt be easier to relax.

Peter reaches to untie Fiyero's arms, picking blindly at the knot, but his skills remain true and he locates the piece that helps it all come apart, freeing Fiyero's hands. He rises to a slight crouch, palms coming up to Fiyero's cheeks, cupping his face. Gentle fingers run through Fiyero's hair, pushing it out of his face affectionately. "You okay, sweetheart?"

Fiyero is very unaware of the specifics of Peter's efforts. He just knows whatever he's doing, it's working. The hot, wet, delicious pressure and friction - Fiyero doesn't know how deep Peter is swallowing him down or anything like that. He's just reaping the benefits and is grateful. Blissful, even. Not just because of the orgasm, but on broader level, having someone this devoted to showing him a good time.

The reassurance is similar, in that the sound of Peter's voice is calming, even if he doesn't quite register the words. Even after Peter has pulled back, Fiyero twitches a couple times with the aftershocks. He's jerked far enough forward that he's almost how he was positioned when he was getting his mouth fucked by Peter, his arms propped up on the back of the chair rather than down behind it.

His feet land on the floor heavily as Peter unties his legs, as Fiyero's now kind of slumped against Peter. His head leaning on Peter's shoulder, still catching his breath. Again, Peter's efforts pay off, quickly massaging Fiyero's legs, helping him transition into no longer being tied up, even if he's only vaguely aware of what's happening.

His arms fall down to his sides, limp for the moment as he doesn't quite think to move them yet. His eyes flutter open as Peter cups his face, his gaze a little unfocused. But he swallows and nods a little, conscious enough at least to understand him, leaning heavily into Peter's touch. If something is wrong, he's not aware of it yet.

His muscles will no doubt be exhausted. There's red marks across his arms and legs, indents with the texture of the ropes. They'll no doubt stick around a little while, but nothing that looks concerning. Just evidence of their fun, which they'll both probably enjoy looking at until it fades.

His heartbeat and breath is slowly steadying, and he finally reaches up to rest his hands against Peter's chest. Not quite having the strength or purpose to do more than that, but enough to show that he wants the closeness. He feels exhausted, but he also feels pleasantly fuzzy, physically and mentally. Carefree and spent, knowing he doesn't have to worry or think about anything. Still fully trusting Peter to take care of him.

Fiyero slumps against him, totally spent, and Peter bears his weight with a comforting shoulder, offering a soft smile when Fiyero's eyes flutter open to look at him. It looks like it's taking effort on Fiyero's part, but it soothes some of the nerves that inevitably churn in Peter's stomach, knowing he's alright enough to indicate it, even if he's not up for speaking quite yet. Peter makes another comforting noise at the back of his throat, hand cupping Fiyero's cheek so he can pepper his face with light kisses. "Good, good... you're alright. I've got you, baby."

Peter holds Fiyero for a moment, letting him rest up against his chest, heart swelling when Fiyero curls into him. One arm encircles Fiyero's shoulders, burying in his hair, nails grazing his scalp soothingly as they both wind down, breathing slowing, heartbeats evening out. His lips feel tingly, no doubt puffed and used, though the physical marks won't last nearly as long on Peter as they will on Fiyero. An hour max, given that Peter's not busted up elsewhere and has been eating pretty regularly. He almost wishes it would stay, the mark of being with Fiyero; which is easy to say when he doesn't have to deal with the consequences, but as a concept outside of embarrassing himself in public - Peter finds it very hot indeed.

"Come on," Peter murmurs, though it's not really a direction Fiyero has to do much with. His hand supports Fiyero's shoulders, and he slides the other under Fiyero's legs, preparing to lift him. It's smooth, easy; Peter transfers Fiyero from the chair to the bed, helping him stretch out, on his back. Peter snags the towel from where he'd discarded it to wipe the corner of his mouth and give Fiyero's crotch a once-over, and then he climbs in to join his boyfriend, opening his arms to provide Fiyero with space to slot himself into.

Fiyero smiles a little as Peter covers him with gentle kisses. There's a lot of stuff swirling inside him, most of it good, but still a lot. Peter's making sure that Fiyero has a soft place to land, while his entire mind and body comes down from the high. It's been an extreme high too, not just the pleasure, but the heightened everything.

Peter's hands goes into Fiyero's hair, soothing him, and Fiyero turns his face to bury it in Peter's neck once again. Everything feels a bit bright, the music now suddenly feels loud, the air cold. He wants to bury himself under a pile of blanket, though for now, snuggling against Peter will more than suffice.

He gives a soft noise as Peter pulls slightly away, though he's starting to get a bit more used to Peter simply picking him up. It's a relief, to finally sink into the bed. His joints are definitely sore, and it hurts to stretch out his legs, but it's also very needed. He does flinch very slightly as Peter gently wipes his crotch, but it's over in a moment - and then Peter is there.

Fiyero rolls into Peter's arms as if pulled by a magnet, attaching himself to Peter, trying to press as close as possible. He doesn't feel like talking, but he does loop an arm around Peter's back, hugging him close. He gives a soft kiss against Peter's chest, before he simply presses his scratchy stubbly cheek against him and breathes deep. He might not have a lot of grip strength at the moment, but if Peter decides to move or detach? There will definitely be whining.

Neither of them are really sure how he'll react to all this. There's some small surges of emotion - embarrassment and shame that he couldn't explain even if he tried, coupled with hints of fear. Overwhelming affection he doesn't know what to do with. He's clearly processing, whether it's chemical and physical or mental and emotional, or more likely both. He weeps a little, soft and quiet, making Peter's shoulder kind of wet. But he also holds him close, emotionally needy. Perhaps this is just part of it, when you do something so demanding as this.

Fiyero latches on immediately, and Peter presses warm hands to his back, his shoulders, holding him as close as Fiyero wants to press. Peter sighs softly, a happy exhalation, twitching slightly at the sensation of Fiyero's stubble catching on soft skin. It feels good, the drag of warm lips and Fiyero's quiet breathing against his chest.

Peter definitely has nowhere more pressing to be at the moment, and doesn't try to pull away for anything. When Fiyero is ready to let him move, he'll relax - perhaps then they can both drink some water, they're sure to need it. Peter makes a quiet, deep-sounding humming noise at the back of his throat; he can feel it healing, recovering from the hoarseness.

Fiyero shakes against him, the quiet, trembling shake of someone trying to cry without being too loud, and Peter makes a soft noise of distress, hold tightening on Fiyero. Plush lips find Fiyero's temple, and Peter closes his eyes as he pours every ounce of affection he has into Fiyero, hand sure and ever-present against his back.

"You were amazing," Peter murmurs, when Fiyero settles into a brief lull, his shoulder still drying with hot tears. Peter nuzzles against the top of Fiyero's head, legs bumping, loosely tangling them together. "You are amazing."

"So good for me," One hand pets down Fiyero's spine slowly, a reassurance to the neediness that bleeds out of him, telegraphing exactly what it is he needs out of Peter - to be held, to be taken hold of and made safe, for however brief a time. "You did so well..."

"Nobody else could do that," Peter praises, awe shining through. Every positive feeling he has about Fiyero is so easily called to the surface; if Fiyero bleeds need, Peter has a neon sign up offering to supply. He shifts on the pillow, turning his body to give Fiyero more surface area to get comfortable. "Not that I'd even want anyone else to - I'm gonna go back to the part where I talk about how special you are, and how hopelessly attracted I am to you..."

Peter lapses into embarrassed silence with a soft snort, hand still making a smooth sweep down Fiyero's spine. Yeah, he'll find a way to stick his foot in his mouth even when he's the only one talking, but that's just the Peter Parker way. Besides, Fiyero knows what he was trying to say, voice hushed and husky.

Fiyero definitely needs water, and probably some of that food they brought back with them, but right now the relaxing and the comfort are far more pressing needs. Both of which are being admirably satisfied by Peter. Fiyero's not even trying to be quiet now - at least not consciously. But historically he's generally had to cry quietly, so that sort of thing sticks.

Historically he hasn't had a lot of comfort while crying though, but he's already learned that there is absolutely no way Peter is going to let him cry alone if he can help it. Even when Fiyero was lashing out, Peter approached carefully, but persistently. It's why he feels safe crying against Peter now, or as safe as he can feel while upset.

Though.. he's not sure if he is upset. Part of him is aware there's nothing to be upset over. Even so, Peter's reassurances and praise is extremely appreciated. Perhaps, when given in a moment of vulnerability like this, it'll have a better chance of sinking it properly.

He doesn't respond yet, but he does huff a wet laugh as Peter wanders dangerously close to putting his foot in his mouth before course correcting. Yes, Fiyero knows what he's trying to say. The meaning is clear, regardless of clumsy word choices, and Fiyero gives Peter's waist an appreciative squeeze.

"You were amazing too," he manages, voice soft and a little raspy. "I'm not.. This isn't cause.." he continues, stumbling himself, because he's not sure how to explain himself. He just wants Peter to know this crying isn't because Fiyero is dissatisfied or that he did something wrong. Probably the opposite. "It was amazing," he finishes, leaving it at that for now and hoping that is enough.

He does let go of Peter for a moment to fumble awkwardly for the covers, to pull them over them both. "C'nyou stop the music?" he asks softly. It isn't nearly as loud as it felt a moment ago, but he'd still like to snuggle up in the dark and quiet while only listening to the sounds of Peter's breathing and heartbeat.

"I know. I know, 'yero." Peter assures him quickly, voice achingly soft. He does know; he was there himself just the other day, combating the unexpected emotions that welled up within him. Fiyero was so incredibly kind, able to handle him in that surprisingly emotional state, and Peter just hopes he can provide the same kind of safe harbor now, in return. "It's okay. You don't have to say it now."

"I just want you to know." Peter presses another kiss to Fiyero's hair, as if enough kisses will embed his affection and care. Maybe it will. He nods, shifting to comply with the request; he dangles an arm off the bed, reaching to knock the laptop lid shut, cutting off the music and leaving just them with the rush of the neighbors pipes rumbling above them.

"There... better?" He assists with the covers, pulling them back from where Fiyero's managed to bunch them, allowing them both the room to slip under. Peter wriggles into position, pulling the covers back over them and using the excuse to capture Fiyero in his arms again, the smooth slide of skin on skin hazily warm beneath the sheets.

"...do you want to talk about why?" Peter prompts quietly, after a beat of silence has passed, settling serenely around them. There's no danger anywhere near, the charming chaos of the streets below far enough not to bother them. Golden sunlight filters in through the window, indicating late day, as the afternoon crawls ever further towards night. Peter coaxes Fiyero's face up to his with a gently hand, thumb brushing just under Fiyero's eye, catching some wayward wetness, smeared on his skin. "You don't have to say anything, if you don't want to."

"But... it helped me." It's honest, sweetly offered, because if there's one person he doesn't have to perform okay for, it's Fiyero. And Fiyero doesn't have to perform for him, either; clearly, he's not, if he's allowing himself to cry in front of Peter. A short while ago, Fiyero would rather have locked himself away in the bathroom to have a panic attack, letting it build up until it ate him alive from the inside out. This is undoubtedly an improvement, and Peter hopes he's not jeopardizing that by pressing, however gently. He smiles, pressing his lips to Fiyero's forehead. "Just... I'll always listen, okay?"

Peter is definitely a safe harbour. Emotionally and physically, having sheltered Fiyero from danger practically from the moment he arrived in this world, or near enough. And now Fiyero is able to accept all the different kinds of protection and care that Peter wants to give, and Peter is able to give it. More than anyone else ever has.

The silence is welcome, and Fiyero feels himself relax further. It had been a good distraction while he was waiting patiently, something to limit the boredom. And then perhaps muffle their inappropriate sounds a bit. Now though, he just wants the intimacy of the quiet. He nods gratefully, and snuggles up as Peter pulls the covers over them.

He's hiding his face from the sun as well, though not for long as Peter gently gets Fiyero to look up. He might be a bit wet, eyes and nose red, though the quiet distress has faded. He's mostly a bit sniffly now, not to mention exhausted. He considers for a moment before he answers, biting his lip, though the kiss to his forehead makes him smile quietly. Peter's plan to press affection into him definitely isn't hurting.

"I'm not sure," he answers honestly after a moment, voice soft and still a little mumbly. "I mean.. not sure why," he clarifies. It's not that he doesn't want to talk - although it might be that too, really. He's just not sure what to say about it.

He could start trying to pick apart some of the things. Like the shame - being so vulnerable, going so deeply against how he's been raised. The emotion at being cared for and seen, something he's lacked. But these are not really things he wants to root up right now. Or possibly ever. He's already emotionally drained. He needs a nap and some recovery, not a therapy session. (Some might argue he needs both, but 'therapy' is not exactly a familiar concept in his part of Oz.)

"I think it's mostly cause it was intense," he adds after a moment, which is not an inaccurate or dishonest summary. "Good intense. But.. I feel.. just really tired," he says, and lets out another huff of a laugh that becomes a deep sigh. It's almost like he's deflating, the air going out of him as he just sinks into Peter.

"That's okay," Peter continues carefully holding Fiyero's face, fingers curling around his ear. Fiyero looks so open and so fragile in this moment; it's as humbling as it is mildly terrifying, to see him like that. Humbling, because it means Peter is seeing past the mask, that Fiyero isn't putting one on for him - and terrifying, like the free-fall before the web catch, because one can't help but imagine all the ways it could go sideways. Peter lets his lips brush down Fiyero's cheek, nuzzling at him gently. Just soft, intimate touches that hopefully get across the depth of his affection. If Fiyero doesn't want to talk about it, Peter can still hold him; he can still love him.

~~Peter's not exactly that great about the therapy thing himself, but maybe if they help each other...~~

"It was intense. Good intense." Peter echoes with a gentle smile, pulling back enough to look at Fiyero. He takes the opportunity to kiss him, slow and sweet, hand brushing back into his hair. There's no resistance, the two of them melting together, and Peter lets his arm wrap back around Fiyero to join his other one as they part, leaving Fiyero the crook of his neck to curl into, if he wants to. "Then rest, baby. I've got you. I'll be right here. M'not going anywhere."

He should get up, get water. Tackle some of the mountain of work that's not going anywhere, that he's putting off till Sunday at this rate while Fiyero rests - but if Peter's honest, he's tired too. Not in a way where he couldn't press on - God knows he'd work himself to death, given the choice - but with Fiyero like this, Peter doesn't want to get up and keep at it. All those years alone, exhausting himself between school, work, and patrols - hasn't he earned a lazy Saturday?

Whether he has or he hasn't, Peter's taking one; maybe he'll feel guilty for it later, but he did say this afternoon/evening was their date night. Peter finally closes his own eyes, arms a loose but sturdy presence around Fiyero, legs tangled happily.

Fiyero honestly never wants Peter to stop trying to physically press the affection and care into him. These gentle touches and kisses feel like exactly what he needs, and he hopes it's giving Peter what he needs as well. Fiyero tries to impart his own affection into the kiss, to let Peter feel as appreciated as he is.

"Good," Fiyero answers, nuzzling closer and giving Peter another squeeze, before he lets his fingertips caress Peter's spine. What bits of affection he has the energy to return. "You rest too. Y'deserve it.." he adds, slightly muffled as he buries himself against Peter.

Fiyero might not have the physical strength to cling on the way Peter does, but he can sure make up for it making Peter absolutely not want to escape his grasp. Better to stay right here, because isn't it nice? And Fiyero would obviously be sad if Peter left, so he can't leave - he's forced to relax. Fiyero definitely doesn't feel guilty about demanding Peter take a breather as well.

Fiyero soon goes limp as a sack of flour against Peter, all wrapped around each other. He's not deep asleep, but a tiny little nap is definitely in order. Though he'll probably be woken up by a stomach rumble from Peter soon enough...

Peter is absolutely living off the affection Fiyero’s imparting to him. Even the lightest touches down his spine seem to stoke something warm in the center of his chest, something soft and vulnerable that only Fiyero is able to touch. He’s the only one allowed to see it, after all, the fruits of his hard work, pushing past all of Peter’s walls until he found himself ensconced by them, too.

A light, lazy afternoon snooze is definitely in order, after all their activity today. Peter sighs softly, settling, listening to Fiyero’s breathing evening out, slowing. It’s nice, calming, and Peter finds himself drifting, eyelids warm with the sunlight filtering in through the window. Peter shifts, somewhere in the middle of their snooze, bunching the sheets around them. He makes a soft sound, nuzzling into Fiyero’s hair. Yes, they did have the food in the fridge, which would be good when they woke up. And he’d have Fiyero down as much water as he could stand…

Peter presses his lips against Fiyero’s temple, smiling against his skin. Yes, he should get up, but not until Fiyero moves, at least a little. Peter doesn’t want to disturb him, whatever rest he wants to take, solace in Peter’s arms. He deserves it, and moreover he needs it, after all that.

Even if Fiyero was woken pretty early, he slept well, and then he had a little bathtub nap. So he's not in desperate need of sleep, really. Just a little bit of a rest, and a chance for his brain to reset. Feeling safe and warm and protected, while he adjusted to the responsibility of having his freedom returned.

Not much time has passed, really, before Fiyero gives a soft hum as Peter shifts. Fiyero starts stirring too, before he's fully awake. He smiles and kisses Peter neck, before he emerges, sleepy-eyed. He smiles and gives another soft hum that sounds like a greeting, his hands shifting against Peter's skin.

His hand settles on Peter chest, nudging him onto his back on the bed, as Fiyero shifts, pushing himself up just a little bit, so he can lie halfway on top of Peter and start very lazily making out with him.

Like his instinct to show appreciation and affection for Peter has just stayed dormant while he dozed, and now that he's regaining consciousness and no longer feels quite so pleasantly drained, it's the very first instinct to be reawoken. Yes, food and drink and stretches and all that stuff, but first - some kissing, because it's what seems to work the best on making Peter feel calm and centered and cared for. Brushing his hand through Peter's hair and showing him all the love.

Peter's not sure how much time passes, but it can't be much - thirty minutes? Forty-five? A little cat-nap, that's all. It's nice, not having somewhere to be urgently. There is a twinge of guilt in the back of his mind - he could be out on patrol, making the streets safer - but Fiyero needs his protection. That's the justification that makes it easier not to fall into the total throes of guilt, at least...

Peter blinks his eyes open slowly, refocusing on the hazy world around them. Fiyero's eyes are so blue, up close and lit like that with the afternoon sun. Peter finds himself smiling, hands curved around Fiyero's back, embracing him. He rolls without protest onto his back, hands shifting to accommodate, and he makes a soft, happily surprised sound when Fiyero demands his lips, chasing after them with lazy confidence that is rather unfairly hot.

He closes his eyes, smiling into Fiyero's kisses, lips moving in tandem. His hands slide down Fiyero's back, settling one warm palm right over his lower back, welcoming Fiyero to using him as a body pillow. Fiyero's definitely right about it being calming, grounding. Especially after the earlier intensity, it's a nice way to settle.

"Hi," Peter whispers, palm sweeping up Fiyero's spine, where he's splayed out across Peter's chest. He readjusts his head position, sinking into the pillow, eyes bright. Fiyero's fingers drag through his hair, and Peter hums quietly, smile still quirking his lips. Peter's not sure how to banish it in Fiyero's presence, and he decidedly doesn't want to. "Comfortable?"

This is definitely the best way to wake up - well, second best. Peter proved that this morning. But this is wonderful too, less sexy but more comforting and warming.

"Hey," he answers warmly, similarly unable to stop smiling. The way Peter seems to have shut every other thought or worry out of Fiyero's mind seems to have stuck. "Very. Almost a shame to get up, but..."

Fiyero pushes himself up, but rather than getting out of bed, he straddles Peter. His muscles complain a little, but he's fine with pushing through that, settling in Peter's lap, looking down at him. Yes, his butt is pressing down against Peter's dick, but he's not purposefully grinding or anything.

"I'm gonna have so much fun with you tonight. Just you wait," he says, smirking as he runs his hands down Peter's chest, caressing his stomach. He's not starting something - this is just a promise, a little tease. Clearly he hasn't forgotten the purpose of Peter going through all that effort with upgrading the bed and everything.

Peter laughs softly, hands sliding to settle at Fiyero's waist as his boyfriend shifts to straddle him. His gaze sweeps down, concerned about lingering tension - Fiyero was tied up for a decent while, after all, and then practically collapsed into a drowsy snooze - but he seems alright enough. Soft skin slides against his own, and Peter flushes pleasantly under Fiyero's attention. One hand moves to cover Fiyero's with his own, resting over his abdomen.

"Everything is fun with you," He squeezes Fiyero's hand, thumb sliding up to his wrist, brushing over the pulsepoint. Peter's chocolate gaze drops to Fiyero's chest, tracing over the marks - some from this morning, other, small red marks from the rope. "That was... very fun."

"And tonight will be good, too. I know it." Peter's hands shift again, sliding to Fiyero's thighs, where they grip either side of his hips. His gaze flits back up to Fiyero's, playfulness emerging from his blushing countenance. "I'm all yours, baby."

"But first... are you sore, anywhere?" His playfulness takes a concerned turn, searching Fiyero's expression for any sign of discomfort. They're in no rush, with the rest of the afternoon and early evening available to them - making sure Fiyero is well taken care of after that is the most important item on the agenda.

Fiyero smiles sweetly as Peter says everything they do is fun. He likes when Peter checks him out - equal measure appreciation and concern for lingering injuries.

Looking down, Fiyero does have some red indents from the ropes, though mostly on his thighs which took the most strain. It's already faded quite a bit, so it'll probably be gone by the morning. Nothing to worry about. But it's nice to see, the evidence of their activities. It's pretty hot too. If Fiyero had relaxed and sat properly, and if Peter hadn't tugged at them, they wouldn't be this marked. So it's proof of the desperate struggle and Peter's control. And, yeah, that is hot.

He can't wait to do the same to Peter. He won't have marks like that, most likely - but the feelings, the sensations? The struggle and control, that will be real. Fiyero hopes it goes well.. but he's ambitious and he tends to dive headfirst into things.

"A little," he answers honestly, because it's not the sort of thing there's a point to hiding, and hopefully getting to fuss over him will reassure Peter, rather than stress him out. "Good sore. Nothing some stretching and rest can't solve." It's actually Fiyero's stomach that makes itself known, just a little rumble that Peter will easily pick up on, followed by a soft laugh from Fiyero. "And maybe a nice meal."

The marks littering Fiyero's torso fill him with an odd kind of satisfaction - odd because he feels like maybe he should feel more guilty about it than he does. They don't seem to be bothering Fiyero all that much, at least... and Peter has to agree, they are very hot. Very hot indeed, knowing just what it took to earn all of them, that desperate arousal unlocking something primal in both of them.

Peter may not end the night with marks in the same fashion as Fiyero - at least, none that would stick long-term. But for an hour or two, maybe, depending on the severity; Fiyero might just get to watch them heal before his very eyes. If this plan works at all, and Peter doesn't just accidentally rip the bed apart...

He's reasonably confident it will work, though. The new webbing recipe adjustment seemed stable enough, and his craftsmanship with the bed is pretty solid. Peter smiles fondly at the irrepressible rumble of Fiyero's stomach, hands rubbing firm, slow circles against Fiyero's thigh muscles. "Got you covered. Food first, then a massage. You're going to love the dumplings."

Peter's gaze turns slightly mischievous, and a moment later his hands have slid under Fiyero's thighs as he flips them both over to press Fiyero into the mattress with a soft whumph. Peter kisses him sweetly, careful not to let his own body weight land on Fiyero too hard. "Mm, coming right up."

Reluctant to part, Peter finds the willpower to slip out of the bed, hands lingering as they drag across Fiyero's chest. It won't take more than a few minutes to heat the food; Peter starts by pulling the bags out of the fridge, before filling a glass of water and ferrying it back to Fiyero with a friendly peck to his temple.

Maybe one day, they'll test Peter all splayed out, tied to each one of the fortified bedposts. Maybe that'll be too much. But for tonight, Fiyero's plans won't put too much strain on them, hopefully. He's been thinking about the same thing he described, the way he posed Peter in a neat little package, tied to himself. He might use the bedframe to stabilise Peter, but that won't give access to all of Peter's strength to use. The exact activities, he hasn't planned ahead. He has plenty of ideas, and more may come in the moment. He just knows he'd rather focus on giving too much rather than too little - which doesn't mean there won't be some teasing, of course.

Fiyero doesn't have a danger sense like Peter does, but he is starting to know him a bit. He spots the cheeky look on his just in time to know something is coming - but he doesn't try to stop it.

Instead he laughs in surprise as Peter flips him over, the laugh quickly silenced as Fiyero smiles into the kiss. His hands find the back of Peter's neck, and he too feels reluctant to let him go. But there's good things promised.

Once Peter has stood up, Fiyero gives a big stretch on the bed, before pushing himself up. Rolling his neck, stretching his arms - before Peter interrupts with a glass of water. "Get one for you too," Fiyero says and smiles sweetly. He does obediently down the whole glass, before he sets it aside and starts stretching out his legs a bit too, while Peter heats up the food.

Peter absolutely made most of his decisions in the moment, and he hasn't let himself think too much about what exactly Fiyero might want to do, beyond the obvious request to tie him up. But he meant it when he said everything was fun with Fiyero... and Peter has a tough time imagining something he wouldn't be okay with trying, at the very least, if Fiyero offered. That's why they have a safeword after all; though again, Peter has a tough time imagining a scenario where he would use it. Maybe it's just one of those, I'll know it when I see it moments.

Peter snorts and returns to the kitchen, plating and heating up the takeout. It's kept well, still reasonably fresh even out of the fridge. He got veggie, and some tofu - and an order of beef, for himself. He's been eating more regularly than usual, but he's still not necessarily eating enough protein, ergo. Combined with rice, spring rolls, and the hot and sour soup, it makes for a good meal after an afternoon of fucking around.

Peter brings the food over, then takes Fiyero's glass to refill it. He makes a point of chugging half of his own glass before he ensures both of them are full, returning to the bed. If Fiyero's still here by the time his lease is up... they may want to look into a bigger apartment. Provided there's something even remotely affordable, but at least then they wouldn't have to eat every meal in bed.

"You dip them in this," Peter scoops a dumpling into the small cup of soy sauce, letting it soak for a second before he pops it into his mouth. He's given them both forks, heathen though it may be; Fiyero needs to eat, not challenge himself with chopsticks and find them both spilling soy sauce all over. "Good, right?"

The smell of the food makes him feel suddenly far more hungry. Fiyero's already crawling back into bed to grab some of the food, taking a spring roll to quickly munch to take the edge off. Spring rolls he's already had before, so they seemed a safe place to start.

He doesn't really mind eating in bed. It's a nice break from proper eating at fancy tables. Maybe he'll get sick of it eventually. But at that point, they can probably just get another chair and eat at the desk. It's crowded in here, but upgrading to a bigger place hasn't even occured to Fiyero as a possibility. Or rather, it did, and then he immediately dismissed it as something Peter probably can't afford and he wouldn't ask for.

He scoots a little to give Peter room, then gets comfortable next to him, pillows rearranged as back support against the wall. Maybe more pillows, though... Especially after Peter accidentally ripped one. Realising how many little plates they have, Fiyero leans forward to pull the chair over to use as a second table in front of them. See, he knows how to make do, and he certainly isn't worried about it being done properly.

Fiyero follows Peter's lead with the soy sauce, and gives a hum of pleasure and agreement at the question. All these exciting new tastes he's getting to try, he does appreciate it. He doesn't speak for a little while, far to busy chowing down on the food. He did get an appetite from everything they've been up to, and there's a lot of food, so he's nor worried about leaving enough for Peter. They've still got fruit and snacks too.

Peter's never really thought about it before, but then, he wasn't exactly having people over. Not even May ever really came here - his apartment was for sleeping or working, and meals were had either on the go, or while he was sitting at his desk. Everything about the place is geared towards the life of one - but if Fiyero stays for long enough, he'll have stuff. Clothes, for starters, but like books, maybe. Alright, maybe not books... a guitar, or something. Paints. People had stuff, hobbies. They're fine right now, but maybe always having to eat in the bed and living out of each other's pockets might get old; though, once again, Peter is more concerned with Fiyero than himself. Peter certainly doesn't mind it being a little cramped when it's someone he feels so strongly for.

Leave it to him to spin his wheels on problems they're not even really having yet, but what's the point of being an overthinker when you don't use it to prepare? Peter chuckles, eyeing Fiyero as he hums and digs in, focused on the food. The lapse into silence is comfortable, Peter sticking these thoughts in the back of his mind - something to consider, the longer Fiyero stayed. And... maybe it's a little bit of guiltily hopeful thinking. Having Fiyero around for longer would be a good problem to have, on some level...

Peter clears his own plate fairly quickly, surprising himself with how hungry he was after digging in. It is good, too, and on the new Fiyero Approved list Peter is making for himself, judging by the way the prince happily munches away. Peter drinks some of his water and reaches over to open the laptop again, searching for some light music to fill the air.

Fiyero's never quite had to figure out making a home for himself. He could adjust his living spaces in his various schools, to some extent. But he's either not had too much power over his room, or he's moved on quickly enough that there just wasn't a point. So his instinct isn't to do a lot to upgrade in general, or decorate, or anything. So he might have thoughts of what they lack, without necessarily taking steps to improve it. Maybe together, they'll eventually get stuff. Peter is far more proactive in getting Fiyero things.

"Something to watch?" Fiyero requests as Peter grabs the laptop. He doesn't know what. There's so much, he has no idea what he will find interesting or what Peter likes or what is available. All he knows is his phone seemed to have an endless supply of little things to enjoy. Maybe not a full long thing, but something light?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject