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

The change in Fiyero’s voice is subtle, but felt - Peter’s eyes widen, watching the downright devious expression take over Fiyero’s face. There’s no need to be careful now, and the noise of the chair makes Peter jump - though of course, he can’t go very far, successfully pinned down. He gasps, back arching against the bed as Fiyero pulls off the condom, as eager as a kid on Christmas, unwrapping a present.

The hot tongue is equally unexpected.

Peter moans helplessly, jerking against his bonds. What’s the point in holding back? He can’t move, and it’s delicious, the ability to wriggle without worrying about it. He’s still a little cautious, but that hesitation will surely evaporate soon because he can’t move. Fiyero’s mouth feels incredible, long, hot stripes up his shaft, and Peter’s erection rises to stand at full mast, pink and slick with Fiyero’s saliva as he’s cleaned up. Just in time to make another mess…

“Fiyero - Fiyero - !” Peter shivers, thighs tight with tension, outlining the muscle, but there’s no escape. He can’t close them a single inch, spread and open for as long as Fiyero wants him to be. At most, he can lift his hips a tiny bit off the bed, pressing up towards Fiyero’s hot mouth - but it’s just his teasing tongue, lapping up drips left from the condom. He won’t be getting any suction or relief until Fiyero decides he wants to grant it.

Fiyero's intentionally starting off with some intensity, something that will make Peter struggle. He can feel the way his thighs flex, and already his voice sounds full of pleasure and arousal as he calls Fiyero's name. The roughness from when Fiyero's fucked his throat has faded, which is good, even if they probably both miss the evidence of it.

He finishes off by wrapping his lips around the head of Peter's cock, giving maybe a second's worth of suction before it escapes his mouth with a pop, bouncing freely over Peter's stomach.

"I'll be right back, you just stay there," Fiyero teases cheekily, as he licks his lips and straightens up, turning to grab something from the table. With his back to Peter, he swaps the ring for the ball in the gag, though he holds it behind his back as he turns back and crawls into bed over Peter.

With one knee on either side of Peter's waist, his shins pressed against Peter's thighs, Fiyero leans down to kiss Peter once again. "Don't you taste good?" he asks in between kisses, smiling and breathy, moaning softly into Peter's mouth. His hips are posed too high above Peter's - though occasionally Peter's erect cock will brush against Fiyero's, still mostly soft, but definitely starting to get a bit more firm now, waking back up.

Is it intense? God, yes it is. Peter cries out when Fiyero sucks at his head, blood rushing in his ears - it’s over far too soon, leaving his breathless and a little light-headed, cock throbbing as he’s forced to settle back against the bed. He groans quietly, dick leaving a smear of wetness along his belly, and turns his head to track Fiyero’s movements. Peter can’t see him when he moves too far from the bed, and he turns his gaze up to the ceiling, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. How on earth did he get here?

Fiyero’s back in a tick, and Peter’s eyes flutter open as his boyfriend climbs on top of him, none the wiser about Fiyero’s possession of the gag. Skin brushes here and there, warm and shiver-inducing, but Peter’s distracted by the kissing once more, tasting himself on Fiyero’s tongue. It’s filthy enough to turn his ears red, but Peter still answers with a breathy moan and a Yes, ‘yero, so good in between the soft sounds of their lips, moving in sync. His dick gets some friction - not enough, bumping against Fiyero’s thigh, or sometimes his own soft shaft - but enough that it keeps Peter very engrossed in making out with his boyfriend, muffling noises against his lips. He whines, drawing his tongue over the seam of Fiyero’s lips; requesting entry, licking the taste of himself out of Fiyero’s mouth. Anything to get more of Fiyero, to chase that quick-witted tongue and encourage the stirring he can feel in his boyfriend. Maybe Fiyero won’t be able to get it up again, but if he can, Peter wants.

Fiyero deepens the kiss upon Peter's wordless request, turning his head and invading Peter's mouth with his tongue, opening his mouth like he wants to devour Peter whole. He moans needily into Peter's mouth, and it might be mostly performance to make Peter more turned on - but it's a very easy performance to make. Really, it's just being extra vocal about the enjoyment he feels.

He's breathing very purposefully through his nose, aiming to kiss Peter practically until his head spins. The gag is dropped on the bed next to him, both hands working their way through Peter's hair, tugging him this way and that. Until finally he pulls back, pulling firmly at Peter's hair to keep him against the pillows. Peter might be strong enough to resist it, but that doesn't mean the signal isn't perfectly obvious.

"Alright, darling. You've had your kisses. Hope that was good enough for you..." Fiyero says sweetly. His hand reaches for the gag, picking it up and placing the bright red ball against Peter's lips. There's room for him to argue here, of course, if he's reluctant - but Peter himself was the one who suggested using it now. Just like most of this - Fiyero's trying to give Peter everything he's wanted from this, while still leaving room for surprises.

Fiyero’s kissing drives him into all but a frenzy, until Peter is whimpering and panting, quivering taut against the bed. Yes, Fiyero’s intent is clear, and Peter keeps his head held back at the angle Fiyero’s hands demand, hair a mussed mess agains the pillow. If Fiyero is hamming up his performance for Peter’s sake - well, he’s done a damn good job, because nothing about Peter’s reaction is exaggerated. He’s 100% honest, open and vulnerable in just about every way he can be. Arousal beads at the tip of his cock, and Peter’s breathing is ragged as he tries to catch it, Fiyero’s hands pulling delightfully at his hair.

The way Fiyero frames it, it’s as though the kissing was for Peter but this - the reveal of the ball gag, seemingly out of nowhere because Peter definitely didn’t notice it prior - is for Fiyero. The pink flush intensifies in his cheeks, but Peter meets Fiyero’s gaze as he parts his lips to accept the ball, letting it hold his mouth open. It was his suggestion, though he’d thought Fiyero had forgotten - but with the gag in his mouth, he won’t even be able to beg. Just endure, Fiyero’s dressed up plaything.

“… ‘ank ‘ou,” Peter manages around the ball, pupils blown wide as he stares up at Fiyero, gaze glued to his expression. Intense though this may be, he has Fiyero there to shepard him through it all. However much Fiyero wants to explore and toy with him… Peter feels safe, and that’s what makes this possible.

Really, Fiyero probably could get Peter fully desperate just by kissing him. But part of helping Peter lose control of himself also means to insure he can't accidentally hurt Fiyero - including by accidentally biting him, of something like that. Obviously Peter is capable of controlling himself enough that that probably wouldn't happen, but that also means he'd be holding back. Fiyero wants to limit the amount of holding back that Peter needs to do.

"You're welcome, baby," Fiyero answers softly, getting Peter to lift his head so he can secure the strap against the back of his head. Nice and snug, not pulling, but tight enough that it won't slip out accidentally. "Now, this one maybe could break if you bite too hard. So try to be careful. Then again, we could always buy a new one," he muses as he locks the strap in place, looking down at Peter. It's a sturdy thing, so it'll probably hold.

Fiyero takes a moment to appreciate Peter's face. The dark eyes, the flush in his cheeks, the way his lips wrap around the ball. And then Fiyero leans down and starts lovingly making out with the ball, his lips brushing against Peter's - but any real contact is blocked by the gag. Just like the ring can force him to be open, the ball can close him up. Not just against speaking, but against this too. Maybe it's mean - but Fiyero thinks it serves as a very poetic and effective metaphor for the teasing and denial that Peter will endure. At least he still gets Fiyero's hands tugging at his hair, right?

The strap secures around his head, leather soft but snug around his cheeks, trapping the ball between his lips. Yes, Peter could probably break it if he bit down - but at least if he’s moaning, he’s probably not tensing up his mouth? He nods his understanding, staring up at Fiyero with those wide, trusting eyes.

Making out with the ball gag between them is terribly unfair. Peter whimpers and writhes, trying to feel Fiyero’s lips. His hands are still buried in Peter’s hair, really able to run through it without interference, and Peter’s really starting to feel just how trapped he is. A frustrated noise ekes out of his throat, hips jerking, cock slapping his own stomach - Peter does manage to leverage himself up a little to feel Fiyero’s chest hair tickling him, but he can’t get much further than that with his bonds and the way Fiyero has his hair in hand.

“Nnmmmoo,” Peter groans in protest, struggling in vain. He misses Fiyero’s lips already, so used to the easy gratification they’ve shared. Maybe this will teach him a thing or two about endurance. For Fiyero, it’s training him on taking Peter’s cock, but for Peter, perhaps it’s about lasting just a little bit longer, dragging it out in the smallest iota of pleasure he can find. It’s true that Peter really can feel all of it - the heat if Fiyero’s body, held so close but not close enough, the tantalizing brushes of his lips, only lightly grazing Peter’s…

It's more effective than he anticipated, Peter's frustration obvious and almost immediate. Fiyero smiles and pulls back, looking down at Peter. "Aww, darling. Not as fun as you thought?" he questions, running his fingers through Peter's hair. He leans down and kisses the tip of Peter's nose again, though this time it feels more teasing then just sweet.

He climbs off Peter again, getting out of bed and looking down at Peter. He has a sudden thought, as he looks for - no, not Peter's camera, he doesn't know it well enough if Peter hasn't prepared the settings. But his phone? Yes, Fiyero casts about for his phone, opening the camera application to take some not so tasteful photos of Peter, hard and helpless. He may not have Peter's aesthetic eye for framing and all that, but does that really matter? He's got the perfect subject, which makes up for it.

"You look so gorgeous like this, Peter," he says, leaning down to take a shot up Peter's front, the cock big in the foreground, the gag very visible beyond that. "Hope you don't mind me getting something to remember it by."

Peter’s not exactly known for his patience, which he perhaps should have considered before willingly putting himself in this position. He whines, happily tilting his face up towards Fiyero’s lips, soaking in the one kiss he’s permitted to the tip of his nose before Fiyero is gone, leaving him dizzyingly alone after all that skin on skin contact. He blinks, turning his head to try and see what Fiyero is doing - but he can’t, from this angle, straining to see past his own legs.

Of course, when he does, Fiyero’s got his phone out, snapping pictures to his heart’s content. Peter makes another soft sound behind the gag, thighs trembling lightly as Fiyero moves around him to capture his handiwork in all its glory. Fair’s fair, after Peter took artful shots of his own, but his cheeks warm, knowing what it must look like. Peter hums again, turn his cheek away, almost shy - but his cock is still on display, a rivulet of slick arousal rolling down his shaft. Fiyero’s teasing is undeniably hot, how much Fiyero likes him, but at least Peter’s mouth is occupied, and he can’t stammer himself into a nervous pit.

Neither of them are known for their patience - it's amazing they've gotten this far. And it probably explains why Fiyero decided he wanted Peter to come already. Theoretically, the longer you keep someone worked up and needy without letting them come, the more desperate they'll be, right? That's the whole point of denial. Well, does that still work that way if Peter can come again so quick? Maybe he also has a very short time period required to make him desperate. It wouldn't do to overdo it, in that case. That's the excuse Fiyero is going to go with.

It seems to be working, anyway. Peter is hard and blushing and still seems a little pleasantly dazed even after Fiyero leaves him alone for a moment - though he doesn't plan on doing that a lot. He doesn't want Peter to feel abandoned, and it's not like Fiyero has anything better to do. If he's going to ignore his arousal, it will probably be while snuggling up to him, at minimum.

"Here, look how hot you look," Fiyero says, opening one of the pictures and leaning over Peter to show it to him. It's very revealing and extremely hot, certainly in Fiyero's biased opinion. "Maybe I'll set that as the background on this thing," he teases, putting the phone down on the desk.

"Now, I've been thinking about another request you have," he says, picking something up, and there's the distinct sound of a cap being taken off, soon followed by the smell of marker, as Fiyero turns back to Peter. "I was thinking one crown per orgasm we've had today. Red for yours, blue for mine? I know those are both sort of your colours, but I like blue," he says, chattering on pleasantly - not like Peter can fill the silence.

"So first one, waking up with my cock in your mouth, I think we'll do that one right here," Fiyero says, leaning down to hold Peter's erection still with two fingers, and drawing a nice blue crown on the underside of Peter's cock.

Peter wouldn’t know what his limit is, but that’s what they’re there to find out, isn’t it? Ultimately, it’s probably more mental than physical - though the physical stimulation certainly helps the mental along. Peter turns his eyes up to look at the photo Fiyero took, sure that the blush is reaching his ears now - he looks debauched. He whines at the suggestion Fiyero make it his background - good lord, the idea that Fiyero could be walking around in public with such a thing so casually is obviously a fantasy, but he can’t help imagining it when it’s right in front of his face like this. He closes his eyes and swallows, lips taut around the gag, cock throbbing.

Peter blinks his eyes back open and makes an inquisitive noise at Fiyero’s words, brain feeling like it’s working a little sluggishly - he’s still thinking about Fiyero’s photos, about whether he’d have them in hand when Peter wasn’t around, in class or at work. He catches up as Fiyero uncaps the marker, the scent strong in the space, and makes another soft noise that morphs into a groan as Fiyero scrawls a crown against his aching cock. His tip drools, very turned on by the idea of being claimed - Fiyero’s already done that in spades, but clearly a little more never hurts, and the crowns on his pelvis have started to fade over the last day or so.

He whimpers again and struggles, wriggling in his bonds as Fiyero switches colors for the next crown. How much have they been together today? He’ll have at least six or seven of Fiyero’s marks on him. They’ll probably go all the way up his cock, marking his entire erection as Fiyero’s property. Even if no one else will know they’re there, they’ll know. It’s much sexier than Peter even has words for, but his muffled moans certainly signal his approval. “Nnnnmmph!”

"You like that?" Fiyero asks with a smile, knowing the answers. Peter is struggling, but if he were trying to get away or stop Fiyero, he'd certainly sound a lot more disgruntled. "Yeah, you like it when I mark you as mine," Fiyero says, settling a warm hand on the inside of Peter's thigh, a mix of comfort and possession.

"Next, me on my knees - I think we'll put that on your knee. Can't just put them all on your cock, right? Now, don't struggle while I draw, baby," Fiyero says sweetly, leaning over to draw a red crown on Peter's knee. "Then me on your lap... Let's see.." He switches colours again, swapping over to Peter's other leg, drawing another blue crown on his thigh, between the knee and where the webbing is keeping him wrapped together.

"That one was amazing... Do you remember what you told me, about how you'd tie me up to the bed and fuck me, make me come with you inside me?" Fiyero asks, fingertips tracing Peter's thigh along where he's bound, looking down at his face, smiling sweetly. Fiyero doesn't remember all the words, but the mental image has stuck with him. "I could do the same to you right now. Or even just put the plug in, turn it up, I'm sure you'd come just from that - untouched."

He sighs happily, as if thinking about some casual pleasant daydream, nothing more. "Right, where was I.. Bathtub, right? You, between my thighs. That was nice, just cuddled up together." Fiyero leans down and draws a red crown on the inside of Peter's thigh, right near the groin, the same place Fiyero had fucked him then. Already there's a nice little collection all around Peter's lower half.

Peter makes another incoherent noise, settling when Fiyero’s palm settled on the inside of his spread thigh. It gives him a swoop in his stomach - yes, he does like it. He likes the way Fiyero handles him, the possession a boon. Giving him somewhere to belong, someone to belong to… yes, Peter likes that quite a bit. He quiets a little, limbs twitching as Fiyero scrawls out a few more crowns, adorning his skin with them, pressing Fiyero’s affection everywhere his prince can reach - which is indeed everywhere, it seems.

Peter moans again at Fiyero’s reminder, nodding slightly against the pillow. Yes, he remembers, and right now he’s remembering vividly. Imagining what it would be like, how Fiyero would sound wrapped around his fingers, until Peter fucked him. His cock throbs, still standing tall, untouched - ignored, as Fiyero’s hand brushes his thigh, lazily tracing the peek of skin between the webbing. And the plug - it’s been a while since Peter bothered messing around back there on his own, and he’s never had a toy that vibrates - but the mental image of Fiyero pressing it into him and turning it up against his prostate? Peter would surely come, untouched even, three times over.

He whines again, loud and increasingly more shameless, hips lifting helplessly upwards as Fiyero adds another crown to his thighs, tangibly claiming the spot he’d fucked. Peter’s gaze is hazy as he watches Fiyero, lost in admiring him for a moment. His boyfriend is so handsome, isn’t he? Peter’s lucky to have him, to be his. Fiyero’s given him so much, and here he is, giving him even more…

It's amazing how just talking and drawing on Peter can seem to make him more and more needy. It's easy to make Peter come, but it seems to be also easy to make Peter want to come, even without his finely tuned senses entering into it. Fiyero's not complaining. It's nice, having this power over him, making him feel the way he wants to feel, and looking so gorgeous.

"Almost done, darling," he says playfully, taking a moment to massage the inside of his thigh, letting his hand run up his groin, up to his stomach - carefully avoiding touching his erection. Just look at all this nice skin available to him...

"Then we went on a nice little shopping trip," Fiyero continues, mostly thinking of the visit to the sex shop at the moment. There was other stuff, but really, that's not important right now. "Then you had me right there on that chair, and you fucked my mouth while I was wearing that gag. Hmm. Another one for your cock, I think. One red and one blue," Fiyero considers, hands moving to hold Peter's cock still again. Drawing a red crown right near the base. "I think that's about as far as I managed to swallow you down, right there."

He stands back, admiring his handiwork. "Two - No, three more," Fiyero says, letting out an amused huff. He sets his knee on the edge of the bed, carefully crawling slightly over Peter. "Two times, with me buried in your mouth. Me tied to the chair," he narrates as he draws one blue crown right below Peter's left collarbone, sparing him having it on his neck where someone might see. "And you tied up with your head between my legs." He draws another by the other collarbone to match.

He straightens up, capping the blue marker and tossing it on the desk. "And finally, that last one in my hand, wrapped in my arms. Well, since your hand is hard to reach, I guess we'll have to put it right here. He gingerly takes Peter's cock between his fingers one last time, lifting it so he can draw a red crown on the upside of it, right near the base - since there's too much dripping precome near the tip.

"Well. That's eight. Good day's work, and we're not even done," Fiyero says, his voice chipper. He caps the marker and tosses it onto the desk as well. "If you were worried about keeping score, don't worry. Turns out we're nice and even."

Fiyero is cheerfully ignoring all of Peter's moans, whines and writhing. Treating it like taking notes for school or something, or marking off tasks. Just being very casual about the filthiest subject, and the fact that he's drawing all over Peter's aching cock.

Fiyero definitely has power over him - physically, of course, in this moment - but it’s more than that. Fiyero has the power to build him up with just a few soft words - or tear him down, though he’d never do that. But with his silver tongue, Fiyero’s definitely able to turn Peter on and just keep cranking the heat. Everywhere he touches, it feels like wildfire erupts over Peter’s skin. He’s definitely squirming more and more, whimpering again when Fiyero reminds him of the facefucking he’d performed with Fiyero tied to the chair. Another couple of crowns, but Peter’s body feels hot - remembering the wet heat of Fiyero’s mouth, the whines and lewd noises that slipped out of Fiyero’s throat…

Peter can feel some drool collecting at the corner of his mouth, mostly stoppered by the gag. He inhales, swallowing again and flushing further when he remembers the messy, wrecked picture he must make. It’s not so different from having Fiyero on the chair, and then Fiyero reminds him of the facefucking he’d received himself, Fiyero’s hands in his hair, controlling the pace with a strong grip. It’s amazing how they can switch positions, switch off with the control, and feel just as amazing the whole way through. His tongue presses up against the ball gag, another desperate keen slipping out of him - Peter wishes, for a fervent instant, that it was Fiyero’s cock instead, holding him open, preventing him from speaking.

He gets another handful of crowns dotted along his skin, body trembling beneath Fiyero’s hands. He’s so hard, leaking like a faucet he’s sure, hips lifting up towards Fiyero again without his conscious say-so. His eyes are half-lidded, fixed on Fiyero’s face as he murmurs to him, tallying up their activities. Peter likes the idea of them being written into his body, each one lighting up a visceral memory. Still, Fiyero hasn’t touched him, not really - just graffitied his hard-on in complimentary red and blue. Peter sucks in another breath and moans in a way that sounds like wordless begging, thighs straining against the webbing again.

It's actually a real challenge, being so casual when Peter is so desperately sexy right now. Fiyero just wants to drive him crazy, make him come so hard he blacks out, he wants to fuck him or be fucked by him, rub up against him or ride him - once again, he just wants to so everything with Peter.

He's not touching his own cock, but he's pretty sure it would wake up if bidden. That said, five orgasms in one day is more than he's ever had as well. Will he even have any come left? He didn't exactly have an opportunity to measure, buried in Peter's throat, but it didn't feel like it was a lot - even if the orgasm itself felt great.

Peter whines in a particularly needy way, and Fiyero's casual attitude softens a little. "You alright, baby? You miss me touching you?"

Fiyero takes some pity on him at last - well, sort of. He crawls up into the bed, carefully avoiding the webbing, the bed dipping a little under his weight. He grabs another pillow to support himself, and settles in, curled up next to Peter. He lets one leg casually drape across Peter's thigh, as his hand reaches up to wipe away some drool, before trailing down to his chest.

"There, is this better?" he asks softly, smiling down at Peter. His fingertips starts tracing patterns across Peter's chest, circling one of his nipples teasingly. At this point it seems like any touch is enough to make Peter desperate for more.

More evidence that they’re driving each other crazy, the fact that Fiyero’s libido has been able to keep up. At least they’ve spread it out a bit, had some time to recover in between. As long as Fiyero feels good, as long as he’s happy - Peter is happy, more than happy. Elated, really, to be of service, to give Fiyero any experience he could possibly want. Even if it means tormenting Peter, deliciously, but even so…

“Hnnnnnm,” Peter whines in the affirmative, trembling against the bed and blinking up wide brown eyes at Fiyero. If Fiyero’s offering, of course Peter wants his hands on him. It’s sustaining him, making this bearable, even as he descends more and more into horny desperation. It’s more than just the wanton need, clenching in his gut - it’s the swoop of joy he feels when Fiyero crawls closer, throwing a leg up casually to rest across him. Using him as a body pillow when he’s all wound up and helpless, and it’s an odd mix of heartwarming and frustrating.

“Hmnn, mmph,” Peter thrashes lightly against the bed, getting more and rowdy as Fiyero teases him. His whole body feels sensitized, especially as Fiyero pays special attention to his nipple, teasing the bud. It hardens under the attention, and Peter feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. It’s not cause for alarm, exactly - his cock weeps, dripping a pool onto his stomach. This might not be enough to get him off, but it’s certainly enough to keep him hard and wanting.

“Mmmmneeeo,” Peter hums, shifting his shoulder and arching his neck, trying and failing to get closer to Fiyero. He blinks away the tears, and his cock slaps his own stomach when Fiyero’s nail catches lightly at his nipple - even the lightest touches feel like so much right now. “Nnnneo…”

Everything they've been doing has been so incredibly sexy and fresh and exciting, which has really helped engage his arousal. Feeling relaxed has also helped, no real pressure or performance tied to it. Even now, it's not like it's expected of him to be ready to go again. The only real pressure is coming from himself, wanting to - but he's also so distracted by Peter, that he's not able to stress himself out about whether or not he'll get another erection.

The more tense Peter gets, the more Fiyero is focusing in on him too. He doesn't even feel like he's been teasing for that long - certainly not compared to how long Fiyero was in that chair, waiting for Peter. But Peter is extra unfamiliar with helplessness, and his sensitive is so high to begin with.

"Shhh, baby," Fiyero soothes gently as Peter thrashes, tears in his eyes. It's not worrying exactly, but it does make Fiyero pay attention. A little pause perhaps - even if Fiyero feels like he's barely doing anything. But he does find himself wanting to know more how Peter feels, what he needs. Is Peter whining his name, or is he trying to say something else?

So he shifts a bit and reaches behind Peter's head, fiddling with the buckle of the gag, before gently pulling it off him. "There, sweetie. Is that better?" he asks, cupping Peter's cheek. He seems beyond anxious rambling at this point anyway.

Fiyero's finding himself at a very tricky balancing act. He wants to drive Peter crazy, but he doesn't want overwhelm him too quick. Drawing it out might make it all the more delicious - or it might be too much. Letting him cool down might be just what he needs to continue, or if might only frustrate him further.

Peter has no concept of how long it’s been, but Fiyero is right - his reactions have far more to do with his own sensitivity, from his own innate lack of restraint. He’s never been helpless like this, never had a sexual encounter with someone that’s anything like this. It’s already so intense, after a day of screwing around - the day Fiyero has inked onto his body, activating those sensory memories for Peter in the sexiest way possible. Putting his mark, one they both know means something special, everywhere he could think to litter it.

Peter groans softly as Fiyero removes the gag, still worrying it with his tongue, like an anxious, eager oral fixation. He’s definitely not about to ramble - not when he turns his face into Fiyero’s palm, kissing it messily. “…nm, ‘yero, fuck…”

Ah, so he was moaning Fiyero’s name. Peter whimpers again and his hips lift, searching for relief he’s not going to find. He turns his gaze up to Fiyero again, watery and hungry at the same time. “Kiss me? Please kiss me. I’ll be so good I promise. Please, ‘yero?”

“Please?” Peter begs, pressing his cheek into Fiyero’s hand, straining against the bed to try and press closer, as if all he wants to do is snuggle Fiyero - but he can’t, he’s pinned down, and whatever inches he’s gaining is solely due to his preternatural flexibility. Fiyero’s leg is still draped over his, but it’s not enough - not nearly enough, when Peter remembers the red and blue crowns dotting his body, circling the base of his cock to mark Fiyero’s swallow line.

“Please?” Peter begs, closing his eyes and biting his lip. Fiyero’s lips barely grazing his around the gag was tortuous, and the thought wracks his body with another light shiver.

"Shhh, darling, it's okay," Fiyero soothes, already leaning in before Peter has finished his last 'please', closing his eyes.

Fiyero was already going to ask what Peter wanted, what he needed - but Fiyero doesn't even need to pose the question. The desire for Fiyero's lips on his is so urgent and intense, Peter is immediately begging for it. Promising to be good, as if that even really means much right now, when Fiyero's not really asking anything of him.

It's not like Fiyero was every going to deny him that, not when he needs it this badly. It's not against the rules, he's not asking to come. And kissing seems to he such an emotional thing for Peter, denying him that in a moment such as this would seem like a terrible betrayal, or at least a denial too cruel for what they've set out to do.

Fiyero does try to press some calm into the kiss, to ground Peter. His hand is warm on Peter's cheek, his lips soft and firm at the same time. He doesn't deepen the kiss, barely opening his lips to glide against Peter's. Not letting Peter's desperation rush it, not allowing room for any searching tongues or anything like that.

Even his breathing seems to slow, like the opposite of what usually happens when they kiss. Breathing Peter in deeply, lingering in the same position, shifting, then lingering.

Fiyero isn't using his powers to calm Peter - but it's almost like he might as well be. Just the force of his own enforced calm, trying to bleed it through into Peter, by not feeding into his desperation. Just being there, his chest lightly pressed against Peter's, holding his head, staying right there with him.

Fiyero’s voice is a deep rumble against his side, the darling getting a pathetic mewl out of him, and Fiyero’s lips are a welcome balm. It’s like half the tension exhales out of him, as Peter melts into Fiyero’s kiss, making another soft sound if gratitude, kissing him back - slow though it may be, the passion is undeniable. It’s not about the physical act, but about the connection - that’s what Peter’s so needy for. Fiyero wasn’t just working him up physically, but emotionally too, and when he can’t touch, like this? Helpless, bound, unable to reach out as Fiyero presses his love into Peter’s skin?

Needless to say, it definitely pressed a button.

Peter sighs, lips moulding to Fiyero’s, and the rest of the tension bleeds out of him, like he’s gone all but boneless against the bed. He’s still hard, cock engorged and pink, muscles lightly trembling beneath Fiyero, but he seems less ready to rip his way out of them. Fiyero’s chest presses against him, and Peter savors the contact, relaxing into the pillows, letting Fiyero’s body weight be a solid presence against him.

He traces Fiyero’s lower lip with his tongue - not seeking entrance, but because it’s all he can do to touch him back, to show his own affection. Peter’s breathing steadies, and he tilts his head to nudge his nose against Fiyero’s, humming quietly. He feels - floaty, almost, more docile now that they’ve connected, like Fiyero’s lips on his sealed the circle his scrawled crowns made.

“Thank you,” Peter whispers, when they finally part, blinking away another tear that rolls down his face, landing on Fiyero’s hand. He closes his eyes and smiles, basking in Fiyero’s affection. “Mm’okay.”

"Anytime, Peter," Fiyero answers softly, wiping away the tear with his thumb as he caresses Peter cheek. "Good. I promised I'll take care of you.." He places another soft peck on Peter's lips, just watching his face, stroking his cheek, a solid weight against his side.

"As long as we're still playing our game - and we can pause it if we need to - I'm not going to untie you or make you come," Fiyero reminds him gently. Not a tease or anything, more a reassuring reminder of the rules. "But besides that, is there anything else you need or really want? If you don't have anything specific, I can give you some suggestions first?"

After that, he wants to ease Peter back into the game. Perhaps give him some semblance of something he can control, since he's been willingly deprived of control of anything else. And if control isn't quite so important, at least he can use it to gauge what Peter wants. Even if it's more relaxing together, Fiyero doesn't doubt he'll have trouble working Peter up when the time is right for it.

Or they may not even get that far. Peter had reassured him that Fiyero himself could stop if he was uncomfortable. And it's not so much that he's uncomfortable - he's definitely not - than it is that he doesn't want to hurt or upset Peter. He would rather push too little than too much, in the end. At least if he doesn't feel confident that Peter will come out the other side better for the experience.

After all, Fiyero knows what it's like to crave things that seem like they should be upsetting, or might even be upsetting in the process. They've only sort of explored those things, using each other despite discomfort or overwhelm. They're still getting comfortable pushing those boundaries.

But Fiyero remembers the one guiding principle - to care about each other. Which is what he's doing right now. There's only so much he can deny and control Peter without pretending he doesn't care, and he'll just have to use that to guide him towards how hard to push.

Peter hums, smile relaxing into something hazy and warm as Fiyero caresses his cheek. He seems significantly more settled, and Peter slowly blinks his eyes open as Fiyero gives him the reminder. He hasn’t begged to come - at least, not verbally once given the ability to speak back momentarily. Peter’s honestly a little proud if himself considering how turned on Fiyero’s got him, but getting a kiss seemed far more important.

“S’okay. I remember what to do if I need to stop,” Peter affirms gently, looking up at Fiyero through dark lashes. Needs and wants is a bit more complicated; the kiss he asked for could fall under either, but at least he asked? Peter’s not really sure he needs anything (though whether or not he’s the best judge of that remains to be seen). Generally, though, he feels okay. If he’s in any amount of discomfort, it’s nothing that he can’t - or shouldn’t - endure just by way of being tied up.

What he wants? The desire to have Fiyero in his mouth is strong, but Peter thinks twice about asking for it. He’s not sure if Fiyero can get it up again, and he doesn’t want to make him feel bad if he can’t. Instead, Peter nuzzles at Fiyero’s hand, pressing warm lips to the meat of his palm. “Um… a little more water, maybe?”

At least he said something, feeling like he should. If Fiyero has suggestions, well, it’s not like Peter is going anywhere. Though maybe Peter has missed the most obvious thing that he wants/needs - a little bit of cuddling from his boyfriend.

“M’okay, really.” Peter promises, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. “This is… this is a lot. But it’s good. I really like all the marks you gave me. I just… I needed… I needed to feel you.”

Fiyero is reassured that Peter has enough awareness to talk about this properly. A little check-in in the middle of everything. And that he knows to reassure Fiyero that he can tap out if he needs.

"Good boy," Fiyero answers when Peter says he remembers what to do - a little praise to encourage Peter to remember his boundaries.

He stays there while Peter thinks, giving a nod and an "Of course," when Peter requests water, but waiting until he's finished considering his options and telling Fiyero how he feels. And Fiyero is smiling encouragingly as Peter does so, nodding along as he mentions the marks, and that he needed to feel Fiyero. Which Fiyero suspects is still the case, given how he nuzzles against his hand, how he seems to gravitate towards Fiyero as much as he's able to.

"Of course, baby," he answers, glancing back to the nightstand, then looks back at Peter. "I'm gonna go refill the water, then I'll be right back," he promises, giving Peter a kiss on the cheek, and waiting until he acknowledges it before he starts to get up.

Even as he stands, he lets his hand slide across Peter's thigh, a lingering touch. He picks up both glasses, drinking the last bit in one of them himself on the way to the sink. It's quick work to fill them with fresh cold water, before he sets them down, climbs back into bed, and grabs a glass again.

He holds the glass very carefully, helping support Peter's head for him to drink - more or a moral support, really. It's not like Peter doesn't have strength for that. He waits until Peter is sure he's had enough, before he sets it back. And when that's done, he sinks right back against Peter side, a leg curled around Peter's leg, and an arm around Peter's waist. He rests his head right next to Peter's, within snuggling and even kissing distance if Peter wants to reach for it.

"Would you like to hear some of my suggestions, then? I could just do what I'd like, but... If there's something that gets you excited, I would love to know," he says, his voice intimate and sweet, a quiet murmur just for the two of them. He's giving Peter the option for surprise, if he wants to feel that exciting sense that anything can happen, that he doesn't even get the comfort of knowing what to expect. It can be delightfully disorienting, another part of being powerless. But right now, Fiyero suspects that Peter wants a bit more comfort and security, to soften the vulnerability he's already experiencing, so that's where Fiyero is leaning the most.

He’s not so far gone that he’s nonverbal, at least, though it’s a possibility depending on how the rest of this goes. They still have hours yet before Peter has to be functional again - plenty of time to play, rest, and recover. Peter does light up at the praise, eyes brightening, crinkling at the corners with his smile. Fiyero’s made him smile more in the past week than he has in ages, which is truly a travesty considering what a lovely smile he has. It makes him even more sure that asking for water - even if he doesn’t think he really needs it, but asking for something is the correct call. The good call.

“Thank you,” Peter murmurs, feeling soft at the kiss on the cheek and the lingering hands as he watches as Fiyero slips off the bed to retrieve the water. He squirms, managing to squish the pillow under his back down further, propping his ass up a little bit and relieving tension from his lower back and thighs. He looks down, turning a bit red when he sees how hard he still is - from here he can see the last red crown Fiyero adorned his cock with, and the reminder sends a hot flash through his limbs. Peter looks up to the ceiling, exhaling slowly. He’s doing remarkably well with his boundaries and he’s definitely all-in on the situation - Fiyero seems to know just where the line is, dancing around denial while also giving Peter the affection he so desperately craves, never letting it veer into denial that feels cruel. It’s driving him crazy, yes - but in the best way possible, the way they wanted, all along.

Peter drinks obligingly from the glass, grateful for Fiyero’s guiding touches. It’s not that he can’t do it on his own, but he doesn’t have to - and distantly, Peter realizes this is a difference between them. Sometimes, it seems Fiyero needs to do things on his own, when the situation is reversed. Where Peter might find he revels in the attention, he wonders if Fiyero might find it stifling. It just goes to show how differently the same acts can be interpreted, depending on a person’s specific needs…

“Yes, please,” Peter agrees, because the one thing he knows he wants is to hear what Fiyero desires. Moreover, the soft rumble of his voice is very nice in this cuddling position, and Peter turns his cheek to the pillow so he can nestle closer. Maybe at the end of the options, he’ll still say surprise me, but he’d like to hear Fiyero’s thoughts. Or maybe they’ll stir something in him, too…

But before Fiyero starts, Peter looks like he has something else he wants to say, brow furrowing slightly - but he manages to gather the wherewithawl to say it. “Can you - can I ask, um… Can you play with my hair?”

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