A paralyzing hitch of a moan strangles Peter on its way past his lips. He's so out of his mind with desire and to hear it echoed in the way that Jason can barely even say Peter's name burns under his skin. His back arches into Jason's insistent touch and fans the flames beneath his own jerking tugs at Jason. In a change of pace, need has sharpened Peter's focus. What he actually needs is to make Jason completely forget everything that's happened between the last time their bodies intertwined and this one. He knows that no amount of lovemaking and hard twists of Peter's fingers in Jason's hair can make him forget forever, but if he can't even recall having a conversation with his father for however long this encounter lasts, Peter will rest easily knowing he's done what he can. He's offered compassion and reason and now, he wants friction to wash the remaining hurt away.
A shuddering, disarmed gasp sucks the air out of Peter and takes Jason's bottom lip with it. Peter can't help but trap that gorgeous pout between his teeth as Jason hoists him up with relative ease. Peter tightly wraps his arms around Jason's neck just the way he loves to do, arms straining to keep himself as close to Jason as possible. Once his ass meets the desk, he shucks his shirt and then Jason's. Not even two seconds pass before Peter is kissing Jason again like his life may end if he stops. All he can think about is the way it will feel when Jason traps him between his perfect body and the cheap plywood of the desk, but that's too far away and he needs more now. Without easing off any pressure of the vice-grip he has on Jason with his legs, he plunges his hand between them. Desperately, he takes both of them in hand at once and the pressure is so fucking delicious that his head tips back in the intensity of it.
"Jesus, fuck, Jason," Peter gasps, unable to keep from moving against into his own hand, against Jason's rigidity. He once again finds his arm uncurling from Jason's shoulders to better move against Jason. The move to the desk alone was enough to make him want to cry out, so he gnashes his teeth into his own bottom lip, this time, stifling the breathy little moans that he can't completely help.
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A shuddering, disarmed gasp sucks the air out of Peter and takes Jason's bottom lip with it. Peter can't help but trap that gorgeous pout between his teeth as Jason hoists him up with relative ease. Peter tightly wraps his arms around Jason's neck just the way he loves to do, arms straining to keep himself as close to Jason as possible. Once his ass meets the desk, he shucks his shirt and then Jason's. Not even two seconds pass before Peter is kissing Jason again like his life may end if he stops. All he can think about is the way it will feel when Jason traps him between his perfect body and the cheap plywood of the desk, but that's too far away and he needs more now. Without easing off any pressure of the vice-grip he has on Jason with his legs, he plunges his hand between them. Desperately, he takes both of them in hand at once and the pressure is so fucking delicious that his head tips back in the intensity of it.
"Jesus, fuck, Jason," Peter gasps, unable to keep from moving against into his own hand, against Jason's rigidity. He once again finds his arm uncurling from Jason's shoulders to better move against Jason. The move to the desk alone was enough to make him want to cry out, so he gnashes his teeth into his own bottom lip, this time, stifling the breathy little moans that he can't completely help.