Jason feels each increasing hitch in Peter's movements; the sweat pouring off both of them heightens the sensation, and Jason lets out a low groan at the way his skin seems to slide against Peter's. He wants so badly to return Peter's kisses, but the whirling world around him and Peter inside of him and around him only inspires him to more dizziness as he nears the edge of his own pleasure. And then Peter's biting and sucking at his lips, and Jason whimpers, hips stuttering from the intense desire those beautifully sinful lips bestow upon him.
"Fuck. Fuck," Jason hisses, snapping his hips into Peter's newly-slick hand with renewed fervor. The added friction only further steals what remaining coherency he has; Peter's own pace increases then, too, and Jason nearly arches off the bed from the sheer immensity of the pleasure it wrings from him. As it is, he's barely holding on to his senses by a thread. Peter's calling out his name; Jason nearly chokes on a combination of a gasp and a moan as Peter jerks his head away, coming undone at last and having to press his mouth to Jason's neck to hide the sound. Jason scrambles with his free hand to find purchase in something; he can feel the tremors of his boyfriend's orgasm running rampant through him, all but shoving him closer to the edge. His trembling grows more frantic; his breathing, ragged and uneven.
As soon as Peter breathes those words against his mouth, Jason breaks. "Peter. Peter. Oh." He keens into Peter's mouth, trying to return those kisses to quell his own sounds and only succeeding in reducing said noises so they won't echo down the mostly deserted hallway outside their door. His hand in Peter's hair grasps at the purchase he finds there. His back and neck shudder into a near perfect arch as the rest of his quaking body shudders and the breath nearly runs out in his lungs. His hips jerk, caught between Peter's dick and his hand and desperately trying to distinguish which source of friction they need more. His orgasm washes over him like a tidal wave, ferocious and cleansing all at once.
His chest heaves and it's all Jason can do to keep himself from folding in Peter's arms. He's a goddamn mess, and he knows it. And oh, does he love it. Oh, does he love the boy that can so easily unspool him.
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"Fuck. Fuck," Jason hisses, snapping his hips into Peter's newly-slick hand with renewed fervor. The added friction only further steals what remaining coherency he has; Peter's own pace increases then, too, and Jason nearly arches off the bed from the sheer immensity of the pleasure it wrings from him. As it is, he's barely holding on to his senses by a thread. Peter's calling out his name; Jason nearly chokes on a combination of a gasp and a moan as Peter jerks his head away, coming undone at last and having to press his mouth to Jason's neck to hide the sound. Jason scrambles with his free hand to find purchase in something; he can feel the tremors of his boyfriend's orgasm running rampant through him, all but shoving him closer to the edge. His trembling grows more frantic; his breathing, ragged and uneven.
As soon as Peter breathes those words against his mouth, Jason breaks. "Peter. Peter. Oh." He keens into Peter's mouth, trying to return those kisses to quell his own sounds and only succeeding in reducing said noises so they won't echo down the mostly deserted hallway outside their door. His hand in Peter's hair grasps at the purchase he finds there. His back and neck shudder into a near perfect arch as the rest of his quaking body shudders and the breath nearly runs out in his lungs. His hips jerk, caught between Peter's dick and his hand and desperately trying to distinguish which source of friction they need more. His orgasm washes over him like a tidal wave, ferocious and cleansing all at once.
His chest heaves and it's all Jason can do to keep himself from folding in Peter's arms. He's a goddamn mess, and he knows it. And oh, does he love it. Oh, does he love the boy that can so easily unspool him.