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

Entry tags:

fiyero tigelaar : winkieprince

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

[ aka wicked ii: lost in new york ]

Fiyero's smiling happily, both of them seemingly unable to stop, both a little pleasantly loopy. For Fiyero it almost seems to kick in now, that he's able to relax. There's a giddiness to it, both of them feeding each other's light happiness.

He considers Peter's words, undecided at what he wants to ask. If he was capable, he would have suggested they could touch each other, or maybe just rub up against each other while they make out. But Peter does finally have his hands free now, so...

"Would you please touch yourself for me, baby?" he asks, and it does not have the tone of a command. It's a request, the 'please' not just point of politeness. "However you want."

Fiyero's own hands meanwhile stay in Peter's hair, tangled up, holding onto him. Not tight right now, just there, as he leans in to kiss Peter once again. He shifts his hips a bit, legs pushing himself up just enough to give Peter room between them, but besides that he stays right there, claiming his mouth.

Maybe he just wants a simple and intimate orgasm to take them down to normal. It would be difficult to follow that one after all, so why not do it while they're both still so happy? While it doesn't feel like there's any pressure attached to it. Fiyero isn't going to add any rules to it, not make it happen a certain way. The only thing is he might want to participate a bit as well.

This is a good thing, letting them just enjoy the afterglow. There may be difficult emotions that well up later, but as long as they’re present with each other from start to finish, they get to enjoy the fun.

Peter smiles dopily at Fiyero’s sweet request - and it is sweet, even though it’s so very, blatantly sexual - and nods, hair a mess against the pillow. He draws Fiyero into another soft kiss, meeting him as he claims Peter’s mouth. It doesn’t matter that it’s not a command - Peter is only too happy to give Fiyero anything he wants. He always is - whether it’s touching himself or something far more tame, like detouring into a bar - Peter’s been able to see since the beginning that Fiyero is special, and deserves only the best.

Peter’s so engrossed in kissing Fiyero it takes him a minute to figure out he should be touching himself. He makes a soft noise and lets the hand fall from Fiyero’s back to reach between them, unwilling to give up his grip on Fiyero’s silky hair. He grasps himself, stroking slowly, whining softly at the back of his throat at the prickle of sensitivity.

The discomfort doesn’t last long, as Peter’s eyes flutter closed and his head tilts, hand tugging at Fiyero’s hair, deepening the kiss. Arousal comes quickly when Peter hits the right combination, licking his way into Fiyero’s mouth - the heat and scent of him held close, the light scratch of his stubble against Peter’s chin. His strokes get longer, cock hardening in his grip, until Peter moans softly against Fiyero’s mouth. It’s a relatively sedate pace, especially for him - but after all the excitement they’ve had today, the stamina is a gift.

Fiyero doesn't rush Peter, even when he thinks he might almost have forgotten, because it's already so enjoyable to just... bask in each other's closeness. Eventually he might have taken Peter's hand to guide him, but he doesn't have to. Even without watching, he can obviously feel when Peter lets go of him, and his hand shifts between them. He can feel the back of Peter's arm brushing against his stomach, and he stays close, only giving him enough room to stroke himself.

He hums happily at the moan from Peter, the awareness that he's getting into it. Fiyero might not be able to come as often, but he sure enjoys being part of when Peter does.

One hand slips out of Peter's hair, caressing his neck, his chest. Finding one of his nipples and letting his fingers brush back and forth over it, just little touches to help Peter get excited. It's the least he could do, really. When Peter's touching himself, Fiyero's hands are free to touch elsewhere.

After a minute, he shifts his legs, moving a bit against Peter. He's a bit further down in comparison to Peter, which means he can press his groin up against him lightly, his soft cock rubbing up against Peter's balls. It would take a miracle for him to get hard again, but it's been plenty time for him not to be sensitive anymore, which means this just feels pleasant for him. Just lazy rubbing up against one another, helping Peter along.

Fiyero’s hand starts roaming, coaxing Peter’s arousal back to life. It feels like it should be impossible to want someone this much - because sure, Peter can come an absolutely ridiculous number of times in a row. He’s never wanted to, though. With Fiyero…it’s different. He wants him, like he’s never wanted anyone before. Peter doesn’t think he’ll ever want anyone else like this again.

Peter’s lips trail off Fiyero’s mouth to kiss messily over his cheek, until he released a breathy moan into Fiyero’s ear. None of it is performative - his hand is making slow, slick pumps up his length, beads of arousal beginning to dribble from the flush head of his cock where it peeks out from his fist. Fiyero’s body, rolling against his own, the firm heat of his thighs and the soft brush of his cock against Peter’s balls - it’s not just arousing. It makes him feel so utterly cared for.

“Yes, yes, yes…” Peter whines, hips lifting up off the bed towards his hand, towards Fiyero’s lazy grinding. It’s perfect and slow, giving him plenty of time to shake apart. Peter almost feels normal, not fit to burst so instantaneously. There’s no need to hold back, either, so there’s no worry lingering at the back of his mind. Just bliss, hand fisted in Fiyero’s hair, tugging at him to messily bring their mouths back together. “Mmn, ‘yero, Fiyero…”

“All yours. All yours…” Peter pants, hand slowing to stave off how good it feels. “Nnm…for you. S’good?”

His cock is hard against his belly now, and Peter is seeking approval. It feels good, of course, but it’s for Fiyero, and that feels even better.

Peter's noises are making Fiyero feel... he would say aroused, but it's not a physical reaction. He's turned on, but almost in just a mental way, excited by what's happening, happy to hear Peter's pleasure. Fiyero feels like he could happily never come, as long as he could get to help Peter do it instead.

Of course, that's how he feels in the moment. He'll feel different when Peter is the one teasing him, or waking him up with his mouth, or whatever fun thing they'll think of next. But even if he's spent, it doesn't seem like he's ever likely to get bored. Which is basically bliss to Fiyero.

"Always," he answers, a little breathless from all the making out, the wandering lips and lazy grinding. "I want to taste you," he breathes, an impulsive realisation. His hand moves down to still Peter's hand.

"Please.. I barely got to have you in my mouth at all," he says, huffing a laugh, already shifting downwards on the mattress. "Didn't want to accidentally make you come too quick.. It's alright now though.. You can come whenever you'd like to.."

Peter can’t imagine ever being bored with Fiyero. Whether they’re rolling around in bed, having fun, or out in the world - or even just watching a movie, lazily cuddling with one another. The domesticity Fiyero has afforded him, just by virtue of being in his life, willing to share that…dancing with May in the dining room, making her smile. God, the way Fiyero brings so much light to his life - and Peter gets a truly incorrigible amount of orgasms? What lottery did he win?

Peter stills at the touch, squirming a little, but still obedient - and not past the point where the disobedience is involuntary. He blinks, eyes opening as Fiyero starts shimmying down, and a blissed out smile stretches over his face. “S’for you, baby.”

“Anything you want,” Peter hums, carefully releasing his cock; it bobs, curved up towards his belly, flush and wet. He does have to wonder what the upper limit is - a he knows he would only ever try to go there if Fiyero wanted him to. His hand shifts to Fiyero’s face, and Peter lets his thumb smear wetness along Fiyero’s bottom lip, too hornydrunk to care about propriety. “M’all yours. This is yours.”

Fiyero kisses Peter's thumb, already tasting Peter's wetness there, smiling happily as he adjusts, shifting down. Peter's legs move to accommodate, eventually ending up wrapped around his shoulders instead, the bed covers almost covering Fiyero's head and he slips further under them.

"I want to make you feel good," Fiyero answers, a moment of sappy sincerity. "If I get to do whatever I want with you," he continues, his hand reaching under Peter's thigh to find his hand, lacing their fingers together. "Then I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve."

He knows Peter gets turned on by sweetness, but this isn't just something he says to get Peter horny. It's earnest and sweet, and he means it with his whole heart. Peter has had too much pain and hardship in his life. He deserves pleasure and joy and bliss and fun - and orgasms is a particularly fun way to give that to him.

Peter's cock bobs just beneath his face, but Fiyero hasn't even looked at it yet, eyes fixed on Peter's. That last orgasm was intense in every way. It seems good to finish with something sweet. Simple, not rushed, but not drawn out either. But most importantly, he needs Peter to know that while Peter is gifting himself to Fiyero, all he wants to do with that gift is have fun and feel good.

Peter quiets, smile softening at Fiyero's indulgent tenderness. Peter's fingers sweep affectionately along Fiyero's cheekbone while the other hands tangles with Fiyero's; it's so easy to wrap himself around Fiyero, and as natural as anything to want to keep him there. To share Fiyero's space, and be so grateful for his presence. Peter knows Fiyero's not performing for him, either, and it just makes everything better, on every level Peter knows how to count.

"I know, baby." He does know, and he likes that they can talk about what they both so transparently feel. That it's not just lust, but something deeper neither of them expected to happen. Peter's fingers trace the shell of Fiyero's ear, reverent. "You're the only one I want it from."

And that, too, is so honest. It's easy to see, in his honeyed brown gaze, meeting Fiyero's eye. Besides, as they both well know, Peter has never been someone who knew how to say things like that and not mean it.

Fiyero smiles when Peter touches him, when he looks at him like that. Fiyero doesn't count himself as a particularly jealous man, but it still makes him feel warm to know that Peter chose him. Whatever Peter himself may think, Fiyero is pretty sure Peter could have anyone he set his eyes on. And they've chosen each other.

"Lucky me," he answers, entirely sincerely. And then he turns his face down, catching Peter's cock in his mouth, gently sucking on the head like it's the world's most delicious lollipop.

Again - he's not rushing this, really! But neither is he going to hold back too carefully. A leisurely pace, and perhaps not quite as deep this time, but it's a joy to finally get to suck Peter off without worrying about accidentally making him come. It means he can lie there and give a moan of happiness that reverberates through Peter's cock, as his tongue circles the head, before bobbing almost lazily up and down on his erection. And enjoy the taste of him, every sound he makes, every squirm he earns, without having to worry about anything else.

Peter wants to argue - because of course he does, he is very much the lucky one in this equation and he damn well knows it - but Fiyero's steady sucking throws all rational thought right out the window. Peter gasps and jolts against Fiyero's mouth, fighting the urge not to buck. It feels better than anything Peter could have imagined - whether it's because of the physical peak Fiyero has driven him towards, or because of the emotional intimacy...maybe it's a killer combination of all of it.

He quickly devolves into soft moans of approval, hands carefully brushing back through Fiyero's hair. Tugging at him without trying to take control, feeling the pace Fiyero had set for bobbing his head, letting Peter disappear into his mouth a handful of times before he inevitably pulled back to tease the flush, pink head. There's no one else Peter wants to see him like this, writhing in pleasure and need; his whimpers and breathy whines are only for Fiyero. Peter wouldn't have it any other way.

"'yero, nnm, not gonna - last," Peter pants out the warning, trying to think past the radiating pleasure in his groin. The even, constant pace wasn't coming on like sudden a tidal wave, at least, though Peter's grip on himself felt tenuous at best - instead it was like a ripple, growing slowly as it rolled towards the shore. Fiyero did say he could orgasm whenever he needed to, but it seems impolite not to warn him, nonetheless. "Fuck - "

It's probably the sign of a healthy relationship, that both of them consider themselves the lucky ones. Peter's been plenty unlucky in other regards in his life. Fiyero was very lucky, up until recently - though meeting Peter has balanced out a lot of the bad stuff. (Clearly any bad stuff from his life before doesn't really count, given how privileged he was. What did he really have to complain about, right?)

He certainly thinks he's very lucky right now, but alright, if he was on the receiving end of yet another blowjob, he would also defintely be thinking that, so he supposes it's fair.

He wouldn't have blamed Peter one bit if he did buck, now he's no longer tied down. He still thinks he should get to do the opposite sometime - tie Peter up and just give him orgasm after orgasm. Plans for later, defintely. But he was prepared for the possibility of Peter thrusting, so he just enjoys the way he can't help but move, even trying to hold back.

His arms are looped around Peter's thighs, which in turn are looped around his shoulders. One hand is holding onto Peter's hand, the other comes to rest on Peter's trail of hair leading up towards his bellybutton, just holding him while his mouth does all the work. He doesn't really need to worry about touching everywhere, about making it as intense as possible. In a way, this is meant to be relaxing, not too intense.

Fiyero gives an answering hum of acknowledgement, taking Peter a bit deeper in his mouth for the last few moments, fuelled by that needy whining Peter does, happily pushing him over the edge.

He watches through his lashes, Peter writhing, covered in crowns - if Fiyero gets marker on his lips, it's a price he's willing to play. He has enough warning that he can swallow around Peter, giving a happy moan, and drinking down his release. By all accounts, Peter should be drained dry by now, but no, it feels like a perfectly average amount that Fiyero swallows down.

He's panting softly as lifts his head, hand moving to wrap around the base of Peter's cock to hold it steady as he licks it clean, lapping him up. Maybe he's feeling cheeky, or just greedy, but he does go in to suck at the tip of Peter's cock a moment longer, pressing against him with his lips and his tongue. Long enough that he knows it's too much - but not so long that it becomes unbearable, grinning as he pulls back, lips wet and cheeks pink.

"Had enough, or should I go for another round?" he asks playfully, smiling smugly. He's certainly not going to push it, mostly an empty threat. Peter will accept just about any request right now, so Fiyero's not really looking for his actual answer. He's gauging by hesitation versus nervous excitement. Though he really probably should let Peter rest...

Peter's control, like this, has been pushed to the upper limit. He vaguely recognizes that he needs to be careful, that Fiyero has released him from his bonds and hurting Fiyero is more of a possibility now than it was before - but it's hard to think about anything other than Fiyero's mouth on him, the way Fiyero is holding him, cradling Peter as he so eagerly sucks him down.

"Fiyero... fuck, 'yero - !" Peter moans helplessly, hips stuttering up towards his hot, relentless mouth. The pleasure ebbs in, like an inescapable tide, muscles flexing beneath Fiyero's hands as it rolls through him. Fiyero's treated to a truly debauched sight - Peter, face tight with pleasure, body littered in Fiyero's marks, shaking apart beneath him as he comes. The moan around him only enhances it, Peter's release fresh and hot on Fiyero's tongue. He's probably going to be starving when they're done, his body burning up all of his fuel to make sure he's still giving Fiyero relatively full loads. He can't even imagine what coming dry would feel like - he'd probably be utterly delirious by then.

Frankly, he's pretty close right now.

Peter slumps onto the bed, limbs heavy with tiredness and hazy satiation, his own hands lazily woven through Fiyero's hair; not particularly restrictive, just holding onto him. The hot tongue cleaning him up feels nice, even if it does make him squirm a little, sensitive. It's when Fiyero gives him a parting suck at the head of his cock that Peter cries out again - a pathetic, totally honest mewl, hips pressing back against the bed. Fiyero gets one last dribble out of Peter for his efforts, fresh and strong against his tongue.

"Mmngh," Peter mumbles, eyes fluttering open to half-lidded at the sound of Fiyero's voice. He looks so perfect, blue eyes shining with smug mischief, flush of exertion high in his cheeks to match the attractive puff of his lips, slick with evidence of their activities. The truth is, yeah, Peter would let Fiyero do just about anything he wanted - especially right now, when he's so easily suggestible. They've broken out of the submissive/dominant command cycle, but Fiyero is still arguably the one with a stronger grip on the steering wheel.

Not to say that Peter's not getting back in the swing of making his own choices, as evidenced by the way he tugs Fiyero's hair, trying to guide him back up from below. His wants are predictable, if a little non-verbal at the moment - Peter kisses him, licking his way into Fiyero's mouth and moaning softly at the taste of himself. Claiming Fiyero, any way he can have him.

Then, Peter does the unexpected, and rolls over - laying Fiyero out on his back, and straddling his leg. He lets his cock, slick with Fiyero's spit, rest up against Fiyero's thigh, and humps forward, lips still occupied kissing the living daylights out of Fiyero. Whether it's because it's what Peter actually wants or because his soupy, blissed-out brain thinks it's what Fiyero wants or... some combination of both? It's hard to tell, but it hardly seems to matter as Peter trails open-mouthed kisses along Fiyero's jaw, panting into his neck and grinding up against Fiyero's leg, smearing wetness along his skin.

Fiyero's easily coaxed upwards, taking that to mean that Peter's done, and Fiyero's certainly not complaining. He looks pleasantly wrecked and it's a gorgeous sight, and it's easy enough to tell what he wants. That's the good thing about predictability, that even the vaguest of requests can be granted, because Fiyero simply assumes it means kissing, and it's confirmed pretty much immediately as he crawls up between Peter's legs.

He gives a happy, encouraging hum, letting Peter explore as much of his mouth as he wants, hands come up to slide one into his hair, the other around the small of his back, holding onto him. Ecstatic to give Peter exactly what he wants and needs, when he can express it so clearly. They don't need words with Peter can show it with his enthusiasm.

The surprise comes when Peter suddenly moves, rolling them both over, and Fiyero doesn't even think to resist. After all, he likes it when Peter takes charge, and he only makes a soft sound of surprise. And then Peter starts humping him, and he definitely didn't expect that.

It is surprisingly hot. Fiyero definitely feels turned on, even if his sleepy cock doesn't quite get the memo. Mentally turned on, perhaps, that Peter is rubbing himself up against him so desperately. He also doesn't know if it's just to please Fiyero, something he's resisted before - especially when it was his powers asking for him. But right now it hardly seems to matter. Not as long as Peter is having fun, and as long as Fiyero gives him the approval he seeks.

Fiyero gives a loud, excited hum into Peter's mouth, his hands tightening in Peter's hair and around his back, almost assisting him in his grinding, encouraging him.

"That's it, baby. Does that feel good?" he asks, panting after that intense kiss, leaning his head back to give Peter room to kiss every part of him he wants. His hand slips down from Peter's back, getting a nice handful of ass, squeezing it as he pulls Peter against his thigh.

"S'good. Mmm... So good." Peter confirms, his voice breathy and distracted. He clutches at Fiyero, making pleased noises when Fiyero grabs onto him in return, hands groping his backside and helping him with his clumsy attempts at leverage. There's nothing particularly smooth about the way Peter is humping forward, moaning shamelessly in Fiyero's ear - and maybe that makes it hotter, knowing that Peter's doing it because it feels good, because he can't help himself, and not in some attempt to perform. Fiyero certainly seems to like it, with the noises of assent he's making, encouraging Peter along - even if he's not actively benefiting, his own physical pleasure already spent.

One hand finds it's way into Fiyero's hair, tugging his head to the side casually. Peter's careful enough not to hurt him, but his grip is strong, keeping Fiyero there. He nuzzles against the exposed side of Fiyero's neck, already ruined with his marks. His hips speed up a fraction - Peter's not going to last long like this, not so soon. It's like he barely even stopped, too worked up to handle it or hell, actively think about it long enough to control himself. His cock is already flush again, hard and present against Fiyero's skin, marking him. Claiming him, pre-ejaculate and the remains of Fiyero's saliva easing the way, dribbling from the head as Peter writhes and rubs himself against Fiyero. There's a feral edge to it; something animal, deeper, beyond words.

Peter won't be able to recognize it now, but he'll probably blush when he admits it had nothing to do with Fiyero's powers. No... this was all him. All them, together. No outside influence necessary.

"Fi - yero..." Peter drags out his name in a long, keening whine, his other hand gripping Fiyero's side, sliding down to his thigh. Hips buck, once, twice, and on the third thrust Peter comes, shuddering against Fiyero and spilling all over his hip and thigh. He bites down on Fiyero's shoulder, over a red mark he left earlier - not hard, but definitely on purpose. Proprietorial, clutching at Fiyero as he orgasms.

When it's over, every ounce of tension leaves Peter's body, and he slumps down on top of Fiyero's chest. He could fall asleep right there and be happy, spent and comfortable, basking in Fiyero's presence. Still, Peter opens his eyes blearily, finding the wherewithal to peek his head up out of Fiyero's neck and look at him, pupils blown with arousal. "...was good?"

Edited (gratuitous cock addition) 2026-01-06 00:51 (UTC)

It is rather ridiculously hot, and Fiyero is taking it in gleefully. There's something about the clumsiness, yes, about the carelessness. Like he's lost all self-consciousness in pursuit of pleasure, and the fact that it's Fiyero who's gotten him to this point. This would also be hot if the roles had been more flipped, if Fiyero was tied up and Peter was just rubbing himself against him like this. Maybe it's the way Peter grips his hair, moving Fiyero's head where he likes it, that makes Fiyero think this.

Fiyero gives a soft moan of happiness, squeezing Peter's ass in return, another encouragement. Fiyero bucks his hips upwards, almost intentionally not matching up Peter's rhythm, making some of the grinding more intense. Peter's cock hasn't even really had a chance to go soft, Peter giving himself only just enough of a break to not overstimulate himself, it seems like.

"That's it, Peter.. My Peter.." Fiyero answers when Peter whines his name, tugging against Peter's hand in his hair so he can try to watch him. He can feel the rhythmic way Peter's ass tightens, and staying tight as he comes. "Yes, Peter, come for me.." Fiyero almost whines in return, and if it's a performance, well, it feels almost instinctive. Like his body just wants to make it sound like he's coming too, to intensify Peter's orgasm, not intentionally but just from connecting with each other.

He lets out a whimper at the bite, that one a real reaction. It doesn't really hurt, but it does send a thrill through him. And then Peter slumps, and Fiyero stills too, catching his breath.

His hands loosen, one moving back up to Peter's back, caressing it, petting like rewarding him for a job well done, his fingers gently scritching Peter's scalp. The look Peter gives him as he lifts his head makes Fiyero's heart squeeze in a wonderful way.

"The best. Thank you, darling," he answers. Peter's not holding his head back now, so Fiyero leans in, awkwardly bending his neck to press a soft kiss to Peter's lips. They could probably both pass out right here, but now there is a come smeared out between his hip and his stomach, so they should probably go take a bath - and Peter finally should get something to drink and eat.

"Do me another favour, baby, grab one of those glasses on the nightstand and drink it for me," he says, figuring he might take advantage of Peter being fine with following orders to make Fiyero happen. He's a little trapped right now after all, and it's way easier for Peter to do it for himself.

Peter hums pleasantly at the hand Fiyero brushes against his back, soaking up the praise like a sponge. It feels decadent, to be able to indulge in physical pleasure like this and have it amplified by the warm bloom of affection that follows afterwards. That's what he's chasing, the way Fiyero whines his name, bumping and grinding and holding him. The whimper, too, when Peter bites him - it scratches some lizard itch in the back of his mind, the one that says yes, mine. Maybe that's part of why they complement each other so well in bed; the ability to switch, to mix and match with which role they're taking on, for whatever combination brings them both the most joy in the moment.

...at least Peter didn't get any mess on the bed? All the care Fiyero took to keep the sheets as clean as they could be wasn't in vain. He smiles lazily, leaning in to kiss Fiyero back sweetly. His fingers brush through Fiyero's hair fondly, if clumsily - still off balance from everything that's happened - but no longer restrictive.

There's a brief pause where Peter looks adorably conflicted; he wants to follow Fiyero's instructions, but he also wants to stay right there and snuggle. Of course, the desire to please wins out over what he might want, and Peter shimmies and reaches over to pick up the glass. It's only his sticky fingers that keep it from tipping over, but it makes it to his mouth and he drains it, head tipping back, hair mussed every which way.

It feels good, once he's drinking it; like he hadn't even realized how parched he was until he did. Halfway through, Peter closes glassy eyes, relishing the rest of the water. He seems to realize what he's done belatedly, setting the glass back down on the nightstand - nearly sending the other one flying - but he manages to snag the second without spillage incident, drawing it back over to the bed. "D'you want...?"

Somehow, Peter hasn't quite clocked that he'll have to move for Fiyero to be able to sit up and drink, but as per usual, he's committed to fussing over Fiyero's comfort, too.

Fiyero tries not to laugh at the conflicted look on Peter's face, so very cute. He smiles dopily, looking up at his boyfriend with deep affection, just so grateful to be spending this time with him. He watches with satisfaction as Peter obeys, and yes, he was obviously thirsty.

"Not yet. You drink as much as you want first, please," Fiyero answers, smiling warmly, though he's telling Peter as an obvious direction, not a suggestion. He'll take advantage of Peter wanting to please to make him take care of himself.

Fiyero is definitely thirsty, but it's just not a priority - also because he was mildly worried about how he was going to manage that, with Peter still on top of him, holding the glass. Recipe for disaster. He waits until Peter has set the glass down before anything else.

"Alright. Time to get up," he says with a playful lilt, reaching down to give Peter's ass a couple of cheeky light slaps to get him to move. He's pleasantly tired and his mind a little bit fuzzy, but at least his balance still holds up, once they both get to their feet.

Fiyero leans down for the towel, picking it up and just wiping them down very quickly, just getting rid of the worst, before he hands the towel to Peter.

"Alright, baby. Go put that in the laundry. Use the toilet if you need to. And turn on the hot water in the shower, and I'll join you there in just a minute," Fiyero instructs clearly, making sure Peter's brain is absorbing the steps involved. They're not many, and they're all bathroom related, so it should be easy enough. "And then as a reward, we can snuggle up and relax for as long as want," he adds, giving Peter a kiss.

He assumes Peter won't very much like the idea of separating even briefly, so making sure he knows there will be plenty of cuddles when they've done that will probably help soothe any disapproval related to clinginess. Fiyero finds himself reluctant to let go of Peter too, but it's not for long.

In the meantime, Fiyero is going to drink some water too, and then grab as much fruit and snack bars or whatever he can find to steadily feed Peter while they relax together. And himself too, probably, but that's nowhere near as urgent.

Peter eyes Fiyero for a second before he obediently drinks the second glass, slower than the first, but still draining it. He could probably drink two more without issue, replenishing all the fluids he's been losing for the past... he's not even sure how long it's been, too caught up in Fiyero and being tied up. He makes a dissident noise at the idea of having to get up, but manages to sit up and plant his feet on the floor, letting Fiyero get up. Taking a nap right now sounds sublime.

It makes sense that's the carrot, then - snuggles and relaxation - though Fiyero hardly needs one when Peter is willing to listen to just about anything he wants anyway. Peter accepts the towel and the kiss, blinking placidly before he nods his understanding. He wobbles a little on his way to the restroom, legs unsteady after so much time lashed together in one position, but manages to stay upright with only one shoulder bump against the doorframe to the bathroom.

At least there's no crashing sound from inside, and the water starts without incident. It's the little things.

Peter does his business, catching sight of himself in the mirror - and what a sight it is, really, covered in healing marks and Fiyero's scrawled crowns. He flushes lightly, examining the way they dot his torso, before looking down at the ones Fiyero left around his groin. Slightly more smeared, but still present on his skin. On the one hand, he likes it. He really, really likes it, fingers brushing one just under his collarbone, feeling warm at the idea that Fiyero put it there. On the other, he wonders - is it kind of fucked up that he likes it that much?

By the time Fiyero returns to him in the bathroom, he'll find Peter zoning out a bit, sitting on the toilet lid. The feelings have started to creep back in, both good and bad. It's hard to go from the heights of euphoria back down to a normal level - not even something bad, just baseline. Doubt, about whether or not he is normal. He's not, really. No one else could even have sex the way they're having it. Normal people probably didn't get a deep sense of satisfaction from sharpie marks.

But Fiyero said it was good, that he enjoyed it too, so that's probably okay? Or is that just because Peter's the only person he's ever been with, so he thinks that he likes it but really he'd like something else better -

Peter snaps back to reality when Fiyero enters the bathroom, jolting up to stand. The shower has sufficiently heated, as evidenced by the condensation collecting on the mirror. Right or wrong, Peter's just glad Fiyero is still there. Still happy, no trace of doubt in his smile. His presence makes everything a thousand times better, just in general.

The carrot isn't so much about getting Peter to agree, as it is to make him endure the not as enjoyable stuff that comes before that. To make sure Peter doesn't doubt that Fiyero still wants to be basically glued to his side for a long while longer.

Fiyero drinks almost a whole glass of water himself, before gathering up practically as many snacks as he can carry - oh, and Peter's phone. Fiyero has no idea how much time has passed either, but he does know that the sun has moved a lot while they've been busy. Peter said something about setting an alarm before they started, which they absolutely did not do, so they could probably do so before they fall asleep in the bath.

He's got his arms full when he walks into the bathroom, dumping all of it in the sink for lack of a better space. He's grateful for the bathtub, but this bathroom doesn't really have a lot of storage or counter tops or anything like that.

As soon as his hands are free, he gives Peter a brilliant smile and leans in to give him a soft kiss, a reward for waiting. Peter had looked quite zoned out when he walked in, and hopefully he's alright, but he seems at least very responsive to Fiyero's sweetness.

"Alright, come on," Fiyero says, taking Peter's hands and stepping over the side of the tub to get into the shower, helping Peter in after him, both of them steadying themselves on the other. Fiyero leans in and grabs a snack bar before pulling at the curtain, handing the wrapped food to Peter. "Eat this while I wash you?"

Usually Peter's appetite gets activated once he tastes something, so they'll no doubt rip through a lot of the food he brought before they get comfortable enough to nap. Fiyero is definitely going to have some himself, and then maybe once they cuddle up, he can feed Peter some things too.

"...in the shower?" Peter can't help but laugh a little, something unwinding in his shoulders as he accepts the protein bar from Fiyero, and the curtain draws shut behind them, obfuscating the rest of the bathroom with the distortion of the plastic. He really should get a different one, something with a bit more privacy - A) in case they both need to be in the bathroom at the same time, not so much for modesty but inevitable distraction; and B) so that when they're in here together, the vibes are less out-in-the-open.

The thoughts slide away as easily as they came when Peter tears open the bar, amused smile touching the corners of his mouth. "You're taking multi-tasking seriously..."

His voice doesn't have much evidence of the strain he was putting his throat through, after water and a brief respite. Just a hint of scratchiness that will probably be solved in a moment with food. It's kind of amazing how much Peter can put himself through and be fine a moment later - physically, anyway. He acquiesces to the instruction, chomping down on the snack; inhaling it a moment later. Fiyero was right; once he tasted it, it's like his body remembered he's starving. It's gone in three bites, Peter turning innocent brown eyes up to Fiyero as he chews through his mouthful, cheek slightly chipmunked with the food.

Fiyero smiles and shrugs as if to say, why not? As long as he's not washing his hair, it should be easy enough to keep it out of the water. He laughs softly at the joke about multitasking, as he sets about washing Peter.

Mostly it seems to be another excuse to be lovingly caressing Peter. He does grab some soap, but it's mostly just stroking his hands across Peter's body, almost giving him a brief massage as he's passing over his shoulders. The most literal definition of aftercare, a term Fiyero doesn't even really know yet, but could probably guess.

He laughs warmly when Peter looks at him with a puffed out cheek, leaning in to kiss his other cheek. "There's more in the sink. Help yourself," he encourages. He probably won't have to nudge Peter into eating more, judging by how quickly he chomped up that first one.

Fiyero seems to know exactly what he wants to do, which is clear away any residual stickiness and sweat with affectionate passes of his hands. Peter's mind isn't as singularly focused on obeying anymore - gradually coming out of that headspace as the haze eases back into reality - but it does leave him pleasantly blank. Not worrying (at least, not about his usual), not when he has his instruction (eat), and Fiyero quite obviously has a plan. He can trust him - he has trusted him. Everything's fine when they're together, and Peter doesn't have to feel like he needs to immediately herd the spread out cats that are currently making up his mind - Fiyero's got him, the same way Peter does, when the tables are turned.

Peter loops an arm around Fiyero's waist, though there's no option to be anything other than close when they're two grown men in his little apartment shower (their little apartment shower, at this point). The thought makes Peter smile to himself, even though some distant part of his mind is snorting and pointing out the Uhaul Lesbianism of it all. Are there Uhaul Gays? Is that a thing?

He's eaten three more protein bars before he zones back in, having been staring, somewhat dazed, at Fiyero while he washes him. Yeah, Peter's definitely going to need that nap to reset. He holds up the second half of his fourth bar sheepishly, offering to feed it to Fiyero. "Sorry, I'm..."

Peter doesn't really know how to explain it, but he thinks Fiyero probably already knows. In the short amount of time they've had together - both together and together - they've tried their hand at a lot of... ambitious activity.

Fiyero does have a plan, but it's pretty rudimentary compared to his earlier sex plans. He's enjoying taking his time just touching Peter, past the point where it's probably making much difference. Apart from rubbing a bit at where Peter just came all over him, he doesn't even bother with cleaning himself beyond just letting the hot water do the work.

He blinks as Peter offers him the bar, and smiles fondly at the apology. "It's okay. I'm enjoying myself," he reassures warmly, though he does lean down to take a bite out of the bar in Peter's hand. He hums and reaches down to plug the bottom of the tub, switching to the tap instead of the shower.

"Cuddling time?" he suggests, though he does have a look in the sink and - yeah, Peter hasn't quite eaten all of them yet. Fiyero brought a whole pile of things. He grabs one before sitting down in the tub.

"Wanna sit on my lap facing me?" he suggests, holding his hands out for Peter to join him. Mostly they've been spooning in the tub, but then they end up facing so they can kiss, so how about they just start out that way? Peter can just rest against Fiyero's chest and nuzzle up into his neck while they hold each other. And Peter's flexible enough that awkward angles really aren't a problem as they they themselves in close with each other.

The hands rubbing away lingering tension is nice - just basking in Fiyero's attention is wonderful. He means to offer Fiyero more; to finish the bar and free up his hands to return the favor, but Fiyero beats him to the punch and plugs the tub, letting the warm water start to fill the basin. And with an invitation like that? How is Peter supposed to resist?

He snags another couple bars and some fruit to take down with him as Peter joins Fiyero in sitting in the tub, setting it all out on the toilet lid. Yeah, not much space, but at least it's better than setting it on the lip of the tub and having it fall in the water. Peter takes Fiyero's hands, though he doesn't need them for balance, just because he wants to hold them, and folds himself into Fiyero's lap. Arranging limbs takes an extra moment, but with their combined flexibility, it doesn't prove to be an issue.

Peter picks up the fruit, an offering for them to share, and loops an arm around Fiyero's back as he sprawls against his chest. Cheek resting up against Fiyero's shoulder, it's surprisingly (or maybe not, given Peter's propensity to twist himself into small spaces) comfortable.

"That was fun," Peter says softly, lowering his gaze, mildly bashful. It's starting to sink in that he totally rolled over and humped Fiyero, to completion, like a dog in heat - not that his boyfriend seemed to mind. "...the webbing held."

Fiyero wouldn't mind a massage or something, of course not, but getting to snuggle up with Peter in a hot bath while they snack on fruit? That's already perfect. Especially now they might make it through one shower or bath visit without having sex in it. Fiyero is pleasantly sexed out.

And so is probably Peter too, judging by the way he zones out occasionally. In fairness to Fiyero offering his hands, Peter did hit the doorframe on his way in here, so who knows what his balance is like. Probably better now since he's gotten some food in him.

Fiyero grabs the box of grapes at Peter's offering, just so he can pick off one by one and feed it to Peter while he himself finishes the snack bar. Basically the picture of decadence, spoiling Peter as much as he'll allow. He wishes they could stay like this forever, inside their own little bubble, not worrying about the outside world.

He gives a happy, affirmative hum at Peter saying it was fun, giving the top of his head a kiss, nodding in agreement as he comments on the webbing, as he chews and finishes off his own snack, switching to feeding both of them grapes.

"It was more than fun, it was amazing," Fiyero points out, giving Peter a squeeze around the shoulders before grabbing another grape and pressing it to Peter's lips. Fiyero knows Peter enjoyed himself - he could hardly fake all of those reactions. But Peter may have been less aware of how Fiyero was doing, comparatively, so he wants to make sure Peter knows now. Fiyero loved it.

Granted, he's pretty tired now, mentally and to some extent physically, and it's not something he'll want to do every day. But every now and then? When they need to blow off some steam, and they've got the time for it? Absolutely, he'll gladly do that again.

But before he goes further down that train of thought, he jumps a little as he remembers - well, as much as he can jump with Peter curled on top of him. "Before I forget - You said something about setting an alarm?" he reminds Peter. "I put your phone up there too. Just so we don't fall asleep in the bath and stay here all night," he says, giving a soft laugh. It's honestly a considerable danger. Though depending on how much time they have, they may want an actual nap in bed too, after the water gets cold. Fiyero really has no idea what time it is.

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