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

Entry tags:

fiyero tigelaar : winkieprince

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

[ aka wicked ii: lost in new york ]

Peter 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.

They've properly exhausted themselves, that's for sure. What his body can keep up with and what his mind can are not necessarily the same, and it's good that they're not pushing past limits they didn't know were there. They're learning how to be together, how to take care of each other, and Peter won't deny he's becoming more and more at ease with that. It's a scary thing, getting this close to someone, knowing how easily it can all disappear... but with Fiyero, Peter just can't seem to help himself. It's hard to want to.

It's also just giving Peter more and more reason to protect this, them, at all costs. Not to say that he wouldn't help Fiyero, even if they weren't having sex - but now it's even more personal. Oscorp has taken so much, Peter will be damned if he allows them to take Fiyero, too. His fingers tighten infinitesimally on Fiyero's side as he allows the prince to feed him a grape, eyes crinkling at the corners when the smile reaches his eyes.

"Pretty tall praise," Peter teases, though it's hard for it to really be a tease when he looks so pleased by said praise. The tacit assurance that Fiyero was enjoying himself seems to loosen something in him, and Peter relaxes a little more against Fiyero's chest. "But you're right. Everything was just... amazing."

Not just tying him up, but the whole afternoon. Peter accepts the grape, then tilts his head to press gentle, reverent kisses up the line of Fiyero's throat. He's not trying to start anything - just expressing affection, nuzzling into the crook of Fiyero's neck as they settle there. "Thank you..."

But the reminder of the outside world does get Peter to lift his head, looking around for his phone. He reaches an arm up, levering himself up just enough to snag it on his fingertips, pulling it down to the both of them. It's evening now, of course - the clock says 7:45, the screensaver of the pair of them making him smile - and Peter quickly scrolls to set an alarm for midnight. "Thanks for reminding me. DD would be pissed if we bailed."

Peter almost sets the phone aside, but then decides to snap a picture - tilting his head up to press his lips to Fiyero's jaw, smiling against his skin. He sends the picture in a text to Fiyero's new number, then sets the phone aside, outside the tub, and relaxes again. He should probably prep Fiyero and - shit, give him some kind of disguise? Should they hide his face, from the other vigilantes? Would it be better for Daredevil and Hawkeye to be able to identify him, in a worst case scenario where he does get taken? Peter frowns to himself, trying to get his soupy brain to gather the options.

Fiyero's not sure he can even fully express how rewarding it was. Obviously it was physically enjoyable, and a lot of fun, and great to watch Peter lose himself like that. But it was more than that, too... Something about Peter trusting him, about making himself totally vulnerable, and then the accomplishment in feeling like he actually lived up to that trust. How he was capable of helping Peter get to that point, mentally and physically. And the intimacy of it... Not to mention how hot it was, despite being things that... Honestly, it would be difficult to explain the appeal of, even to himself.

He's also just glad their first serious foray into something like that didn't end up with either of them crying - not properly, not in a bad way. Just the emotional release, it seemed like, Fiyero's shoulder wet with Peter's tears at one point. But he was happy to continue, and that was before they'd reached a point where he seemed like he was so far deep he didn't even consider he had a choice. Eventually Peter gave the impression he had no other purpose in life than obey and please Fiyero - at least that's what it seemed like.

Which... was a bit scary. He's not sure he could explain that to Peter without it coming out wrong either. Because he wasn't scared exactly, and he doesn't want to give the impression he didn't enjoy himself. Certainly not right now, when they're both a bit emotionally raw and exhausted, and Peter might get insecure about it. Fiyero wants to build up Peter's self-confidence, as it seems to waver at times. He loves to see him blush, but he'd never want to embarrass him properly. He wants Peter to feel desirable. Because he most definitely is - whether he's insecure or totally confident, somehow, even if it seems like it would contradict itself, Peter is hot whether he's shy and flushed, or secure and in control. Another part of how they seem to flip their roles a lot.

He also doesn't want Peter to think he'd ever want to leave. Because it's becoming very rapidly clear that Fiyero wants to be with Peter for as long as he can. Whether it's the excitement of the crush and new discoveries, or the beginning of something deeper, Fiyero has no idea. But either way it turns out, Fiyero doesn't want Peter to feel like he's got one foot out the door.

Fiyero hugs him a bit closer, pressing a long kiss into the hair at the top of Peter's head. Peter is obviously very protective of Fiyero, that's been clear from the beginning - but Fiyero is becoming more and more obviously protective of Peter in return too. That moment of action and forced stand-still at the bar really proved that, after all.

He's getting more relaxed now too, something in him loosening a little as Peter sets the alarm. It's alright if they fall asleep in the bath, or in bed afterwards. Peter's more himself, less helpless and vulnerable, so Fiyero doesn't need to watch him some closely, to mind his words and his actions so attentively. He can let go a bit now too as well, tension slowly seeping out of him with cuddles and hot bath water.

He smiles for the picture Peter takes - not too revealing, even if it's clear they're in the bath together, just by the tile behind them. None of Peter's sharpie crowns show, but at least one of Fiyero's hickies on his neck is visible.

Fiyero watches Peter send the picture off, then blinks a bit. "...Did you just send that to your aunt?" he asks, innocent surprise in his voice. Is he serious or is he just messing with Peter? Who can say...

Peter's not used to things being... good. Something as good as what they have going has to have a cost. Sure, that may be a little bit pessimistic, but is he wrong? This felt good, on every level conceivable, and for once Peter isn't shying away from it. He isn't thinking about all the ways this can go wrong, all the things outside of their control; that's coming now, after the fact, because it's irresponsible to avoid it forever. But in the moment? All he was thinking about was Fiyero.

He wasn't even self-conscious, not truly. Not like how he has been before; the more they're together, the more he comes to trust Fiyero, the easier it is to just... be. He doesn't have to pretend or perform with Fiyero, and vice versa; that, more than anything, makes it easier and easier to be confident. A space where neither of them feel judged? It's no wonder the orgasms are mindblowing, letting them both get out of their own heads.

Peter settles as he feels Fiyero relax beneath him, pressing against him like a weighted blanket. It's such a precious thing, having someone who wants to take care of you. A rare thing, in Peter's experience; even rarer someone who can take care of him. He lets May care for him, the way she always has, but she can't actually protect him. Peter didn't think that was something he could have, anymore; he'd been handed a perma-assignment as Protector Of Everyone with that spiderbite, and that was just the way it was.

Privately though, Peter thinks that maybe, with Fiyero, nothing is impossible.

He lets his eyes close to half-lidded as he luxuriates in Fiyero's presence, cuddling him heartily. Idly, Peter contemplates next steps; he's thinking no to a mask for Fiyero, but Peter will definitely put Fiyero in one of his hoodies. Not just because the idea of wrapping Fiyero in his clothes is appealing (and it is, Peter is definitely that boyfriend, if it wasn't obvious by how much he enjoys leaving hickies and having Fiyero draw his crowns) - but practically, it's probably smart to obscure his identity a little, for anyone that might be trying to track them...

It takes a second for Fiyero's words to register, but then the cold flush of dread hits, and the words process. Did he...? No, that would be - no, he couldn't have. Peter unwinds his arm from around Fiyero and pushes to sit up and fish for his phone over the side of the tub, unable to remain relaxed when he's not 100% sure that he didn't -

"Oh my god." Peter gapes in horror when he unlocks the phone to find that Fiyero is right. The little grey word DELIVERED stares back at him mockingly, and the picture - oh good God the picture. It's cute, of course, but completely undeniable as to what it is they're doing. Fiyero's hickey is blatantly visible, the crown on Peter's collarbone likely innocent-looking to outside eyes, but making his cheeks burn, knowing the debauchery behind it. "Fuck. Oh my god, shit - "

He doesn't know what to do, staring in disbelief, phone clutched in his hand. He can't unsend the message, but inaction feels incredibly wrong. And alright, yeah, it could be worse, but Peter can't help feeling like an idiot; so much for the relaxed peace he was enjoying, post-coitus. Distantly, Peter realizes he probably should have expected something like this to happen - Parker Luck, right? Nothing that good happens to him without exacting a price.

Fiyero isn't used to things being good in this way. He performs the careless optimist, and in some ways he is - but not entirely. He's quickly gone all in on this relationship, because he simply can't not do so. And he just... tries not to think about the future too much.

But the future does tend to come for them, currently in the shape of a misdelivered text. Fiyero can easily read on Peter's expression that he was indeed right. Peter did send it to May - and it was very obviously a mistake. Fiyero, upon seeing it, had been trying to find reasons why Peter would send a picture like that to her. And, well, turns out he wouldn't. Not intentionally.

Fiyero sits up a bit too, resting a comforting hand on Peter's back, watching him with gentle concern - and a confusing mix of amusement and his own embarrassment.

Yeah, so, showing the mother of his partner something private like that is probably not ideal. From what little he knows of May, and her support of this relationship, he hopes she'll take it well, but...

There's definitely a certain level of propriety that has been breached. A tiny little pit in his stomach that makes him feel like he's in trouble, that there will he consequences for this. Fiyero isn't used to sharing things with parental figures. Certainly nothing like this. He can't help it, the worry that starts gnawing at him is instinctual, even if he tries to rationally argue against it in his head.

"Well.. At least she already knew?" Fiyero offers, but he doesn't sound entirely convincing. He can't make himself sound not worried. At best he could pretend to only be worried about Peter's reaction, not his own. (He shares more and more with Peter, but there are things that burrow deeper, that resists the light of day.)

Perhaps it's Peter's reaction that's activating his own worry. It makes it feel like a big deal, when Fiyero can't be truly sure that it isn't. And if it were him, it would be a tremendously big deal... Even if you forget the consequences. The idea of sharing something like that with his own parents would be... inconceivable.

The only reason that May has gotten some trust from him is because Fiyero did have some kindly caretakers every now and then. Someone he could share things with - ages ago now. But that's not quite enough to outweigh the bad experiences, when worries like this come creeping in unexpectedly.

All Fiyero can really do is sit there and stroke Peter's back, trying not to bite his lip or look too worried. They're supposed to be relaxing... A pleasant come down after all the intensity. Perhaps he shouldn't have said something. He maybe should have just let Peter discover it on his own later on. After all, it doesn't seem like Peter is able to do much about it.

Not ideal is an understatement. Peter wouldn't have sent that photo to anybody else. He wanted Fiyero to have it, and he should have waited until he wasn't operating on autopilot to send it. Fuck. Peter sighs in defeat, smacking a palm against his forehead a couple of times as he stares at the photo - well, at least they look happy. Outrageously happy, actually, to the point where that is almost more embarrassing than the fact that they're obviously naked. His hand winds into his own hair, stressed and pulling at it - though Fiyero's hand on his back does help, grounding and warm.

Overall, the stakes are low - it's not like she'll be angry with him. That's way worse, truthfully, and always because Peter genuinely deserves the ire. This is an inappropriate picture (and it could be so much worse in that department, too), and it's not at all on the same scale as coming home black and blue and refusing to tell her where he's been or who's hurting him. But the humiliation of it - because it will be, thoroughly, it's one of the ways they express their love - ugh. Maybe the only lucky part of this is that it's May doing the ribbing, because if Ben were still around to see it, Peter would really never hear the end of it.

Peter zones back in to the buzz of the phone, with May hearting the message. His face feels like it's on fire and he wants to throw the device, but the typing bubbles appear, then disappear, and he knows he needs to know what she's going to say before he does.

Bring those smiles to dinner, bubbeleh.

and then, a moment later:

and SHIRTS!

Then, Peter throws the phone - gently, for him anyway, letting it fall to the little bathroom rug - face aflame. He buries his face in his hands, dragging his palm over his countenance. "UGH!"

"She's going to be awful," Peter groans, finally turning back towards Fiyero, with the intention to lay back down. Nothing he can do about it now - truly nothing, aside from wallowing in anxious misery until the dinner. It's a state he's familiar with, so multitasking with a snuggle is easy enough. He tucks his arm back around Fiyero and shifts to lay against him again, stubbornly burying his face against Fiyero's neck. "Just, the most embarrassing woman you've ever met. I told her nothing was happening, which it wasn't, at the time, but of course she doesn't know that so she thinks I was lying, and she already knows she was right but I had to go and give her the ammunition of the century - "

Peter's anxious rambling trails off into indistinct grumbling that he muffles against Fiyero's skin, pressing kisses to his neck and hugging him a little tighter, like snuggling their problems away is an option. It's then that the tension reaches him - stressing himself out, eh, that's par for the course. But... it seems like Fiyero is holding more tension than before; that despite his attempts to look unbothered - he's not actually untroubled. Peter would know the difference - Fiyero's really genuinely chill, about a lot of things.

"Hey," Peter pillows his cheek on Fiyero's shoulder, tipping his head to press a gentle kiss to his skin. "It's my own fault. And you're right, she already knew. God, imagine that, out of the blue? I didn't have to go and give her incontrovertible proof but - well, it is what it is, I guess."

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