no_voice: (How much he loves)
Jason McConnell ([personal profile] no_voice) wrote 2015-09-21 10:29 pm (UTC)

Jason's eyes prove torn, unable to decide whether they want to remain open or close. His eyelashes flutter against the delicate skin of Peter's neck as he kisses lower and lower, moving on to his flushed chest. He can no longer see Peter's eyes, but he can feel their intensity, even closed. Jason remembers the first time glancing into them; the first time he felt whole in his entire life. He remembers the way his breath caught in his throat the first time he saw Peter; he remembers chalking it up to nerves, back then.

Every point of touch between them singes Jason like lightning. The heat rising from Peter's skin as he brings his lips down near his nipples only further helps steal his breath; the feeling of Peter all around him feels as enveloping and as right as a blanket. With their bodies entwined, Jason finally feels fully at ease in the world. This, he knows, is when he truly becomes a 'golden boy.'

Jason catches sight of Peter's left hand bunched in the sheets and instantly, his right hand snakes out to meet it, winding their fingers together as tightly as their bodies. He squeezes their hands together just as he feels Peter's hand move from the back of his knee up his thigh, lingering there. He moans, leaning into the touch as much as he's able to between thrusts.

"Peter," his voice cracks, entirely ruined already from their lovemaking. He leans in to steal a heated, fervent kiss from Peter's lips, panting and groaning into it. The slick friction of their bodies only further spurs him on, as does Peter's bucking beneath him, pulling more obscenities mixed with variations of Peter's name.

"Peter," he gasps again, squeezing their hands together where they still lay entwined. He wants so badly to find that one, perfect angle that he knows will send Peter spiraling into oblivion, but he won't do anything without asking Peter, first. Peter's wants and desires are all that matter to him, in that moment. "Peter," he manages, even as he continues thrusting and shivers run through him. "Can I lift your hips?"

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