shootstars: (Default)
there's a river running wild. ([personal profile] shootstars) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2017-02-16 12:04 pm

the picture prompt meme



the picture prompt meme

I — Comment with your character.
II — Others will leave a picture (or two, or three...)
III — Reply to them with a setting based on the picture.
IV — Link to any pictures that are NSFW, please.
V — Be aware that this meme will be image-heavy.


Link to an image:

Embed image in your reply:

Image width and height:

striketwice: (051)

[personal profile] striketwice 2017-02-21 09:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He carefully watches Peter’s face, like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on beneath that weird wriggly mess that squirms at the fringes of their link. He can’t get a handle on it, whatever it is, aside from a brief inkling of nervousness.

But Peter seems to gather himself, and ultimately agrees. Alec gives a small nod, and it takes only a small motion of his hand to dispel the illusion keeping Peter’s mark hidden.

The last time he saw it, Peter was glaring daggers at him, hating him with every fiber of his being as Alec laid the spellwork to keep it hidden in the first place. It seems like ages ago, when waking up that morning to find the colored band around his arm felt like the biggest mistake he could ever make. (How quickly he proved himself wrong on that one.)

He lets his fingers drift along the edge of the mark, cloudy purple, the exact shade of his magic. It’s not pretty, not by a long shot, but he’s drawn to it all the same.

Alec ducks his head to mouth along that colored band, gentle presses of his lips, and long, lazy passes of his tongue by turn. ]
nostalgiabomb: (229)

[personal profile] nostalgiabomb 2017-02-21 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Alec waves his hand, and a part of Peter expects there to be more to it than that. Like, a little pop. Or for that ring to settle on his neck again like an actual collar. But— nothing. And that logically follows, of course, but Peter’s still a little disappointed.

The only thing that tells him it’s visible again is the way Alec’s fingertips ghost along the edge, maddeningly close. The way Alec stares at it, and the scrutiny makes color inch up his throat again, makes him feel self-conscious, makes him want to squirm.

He wants to say something snappy and clever. Wants to say something to crack the weird tension settling between them, but nothing comes.

Thankfully, Alec breaks the silence first, moving forward to kiss along the band, and Peter groans, arms turning to jelly. He falls back against the bed, dragging Alec with him. ]


Fuck...

[ This, on a shaking exhale. Peter arches up against Alec, head tipping back to give him more space. The languid pace he’s suddenly adopted makes Peter want to sob in frustration, but he bites down on his lower lip to keep it at bay.

It’s lazy and easy and maybe the mood had flagged a bit, but that first press of Alec’s lips against the band was enough to kickstart it again. And now, with Peter’s fingers digging into Alec’s back, twisting into the hair at the nape of his neck, with the wet slide of his tongue against Peter’s throat, the heat of his mouth, the warmth of his lips – all of it slow. Too slow.

Way too fucking slow.

Feeding flames already well and fully lit. Stoking them higher and higher, well past dangerous.

And Peter aches with it. ]


Fuck, come on— [ Sharp, impatient; not quite pleading but edging treacherously close. ]
striketwice: (095)

[personal profile] striketwice 2017-02-22 02:25 am (UTC)(link)
[ He's not actively trying to pay Peter back for fucking with him at the bar, but the idea sort of occurs as flickers of impatience poke through the haze of desire they're both swimming in.

He breathes out a laugh, breath hot against Peter's neck. ]


You got somewhere to be all of a sudden?
nostalgiabomb: (024)

[personal profile] nostalgiabomb 2017-02-22 03:33 am (UTC)(link)
[ He whines a little, Alec's breath flitting across his skin, but when Alec backs off a little, it gives Peter some time to gather the frayed edges of his thoughts.

And with some higher brain function returning, he says, ]


Don't be a prick.

[ Breathless and sharp. And Peter reaches for the band on Alec's arm. ]
striketwice: (093)

[personal profile] striketwice 2017-02-22 03:54 am (UTC)(link)
[ He laughs, but it quickly tapers off into a moan as Peter's hand finds that band again. Bastard is playing dirty, but he can appreciate that. Alec is always fighting dirty.

He claims Peter's lips again, sudden and searing, spurred by the white-hot flashes of desire that spark from the brush of Peter's hand, burning away whatever will to tease he still had, threatening to incinerate them.

His hips shift, grinding against Peter's. ]
Fine. You win.
nostalgiabomb: (025)

[personal profile] nostalgiabomb 2017-02-22 04:06 am (UTC)(link)
[ Fucking finally, he thinks. Now we're getting somewhere.

And he'd say it aloud, too, except his mouth is otherwise occupied.

His hands curl possessively over either side of Alec's jaw, licking into Alec's mouth, biting as his lips, arching up into him. He groans, curses, aches as their cocks grind together, relieving some of the pressure building, but it's not nearly fucking enough.

Too many layers between them, still, and Peter reaches down with both hands, fumbling at the buckle for Alec's belt. ]
striketwice: (057)

[personal profile] striketwice 2017-02-22 04:35 am (UTC)(link)
[ Alec is in no way going to help him with that, aside from shifting his hips a bit to put some space between them. Otherwise, he's too occupied by the way their mouths clash together, the slide of their tongues and the scrape of teeth.

He can't recall having ever done this with the doors wide open, not a barrier in sight. It's addictive, the way everything flows freely. He's dizzy with it, overloaded but only in the best of ways as desire and need ricochet between them, feeding off of one another. Usually he's the one driving Peter crazy until he's begging and wound too tight, but it seems the tables have turned this time around. ]


Fuck. [ This said against Peter's mouth, as he catches his lower lip between his teeth, none too gently. ] Peter--
nostalgiabomb: (025)

[personal profile] nostalgiabomb 2017-02-22 04:42 am (UTC)(link)
[ He hisses in a breath at the sharp sting. He wrinkles his nose, though the expression goes lost on Alec, and takes on a tone of mock annoyance. ]

Fucking working on it

[ He finally works Alec's belt loose, yanks it from the loops and tosses it with a soft clatter to the ground. He works on his own next. ]

Could help[ And he gasps it out between presses of their lips. ] You asshole.
striketwice: (086)

[personal profile] striketwice 2017-02-22 04:53 am (UTC)(link)
Could.

[ But is he going to?

Apparently yes he is, because even through the haze of emotions, he realizes this is going way too slowly with just Peter struggling through.

With one last bruising kiss, he pulls away enough to kick off his shoes and work off his pants. Every moment he's not tangled with Peter seems like a small eternity, and once he's finally free of his clothes, he flops back onto the mattress, reaching over to pull Peter on top of him. ]
nostalgiabomb: (035)

[personal profile] nostalgiabomb 2017-02-22 05:49 am (UTC)(link)
[ He buzzes with the loss for a brief second, but it's a necessary evil he decides. Like ripping off a bandage, he tells himself. Like drinking bitter medicine.

But it sucks.

Still, when Alec climbs off, Peter finally manages to undo his belt, his hands made clumsy with liquor and impatience. He shimmies out of his pants, toes off his boots, and when Alec reaches for him, Peter climbs over him, knees bracketing Alec's hips, elbows pressing into the bed on either side of Alec's head. For a second, he just its there, staring down at Alec, appreciating how fucking good he looks like this, flushed and wanting.

Peter dips down, capturing Alec's lips again, impatient and greedy, moaning into his mouth when their cocks slide together. ]


How do you want it? [ This, on a low rasp, their lips still brushing with every word. ] You want me to fuck you, Alec?
striketwice: (001)

[personal profile] striketwice 2017-02-22 04:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[ They slot back together at last- it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but it felt like so much longer- and he has to take a moment to just appreciate how good Peter looks above him like this, eyes dark, that stormy purple band stark against his skin.

Peter ducks back down to kiss him, and Alec slides a hand into Peter’s hair, moaning and arching into him in search of more contact, just the tiniest bit of friction, anything.

He almost doesn’t hear Peter’s first question, too occupied by the press of their bodies, the way their dicks slide together with each motion of their hips, but that second one comes through loud and clear. Apparently Alec thinks it’s a fantastic fucking idea with the way his cock twitches at the mere suggestion. ]


Yeah. [ Breathless, needy, and not bothering to hide it. Then, with a little more conviction, ] Peter, yes.
nostalgiabomb: (034)

[personal profile] nostalgiabomb 2017-02-22 08:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[ There’s something about Peter’s name on that voice, Alec’s voice, begging and desperate with need, that sends molten heat through Peter, and he rock his hips. Their cocks brush together again, and he moans against Alec’s mouth, lets him drink down the sound.

He could stand to hear Alec like this more often, he thinks. And maybe tonight has taught Peter the exact wrong lesson, because he’s learning that if he’s an asshole about this, if he’s quicker on the draw, if he abuses the shit out of the bands that tie them together, then his reward is Alec writhing beneath him, pleading, almost shameless, skin flushed and eyes dark.

Then again, he thinks distantly, Alec makes a habit of doing the exact same thing to Peter, brushing and biting and mouthing at the collar around his throat, so it’s hard to feel any guilt for their evening starting the way it had.

Payback, as far as Peter’s concerned.

He fumbles for the nightstand, and he fishes out the little bottle of oil they use for nights like these. He sits up, pulling Alec with him to maintain their kiss. It’s awkward going, with Alec reaching up and Peter slightly hunched, pouring some of the bottle’s contents onto his palm, warming the oil between his fingers, and Peter can’t help but snort out a laugh.

Peter pushes Alec back onto the mattress and repositions himself between Alec’s legs. He rests his hand against Alec’s hip, thumb brushing against the crest of the bone. The tip of his slicked forefinger comes to rest against Alec’s entrance. ]


Ready?
striketwice: (038)

[personal profile] striketwice 2017-02-22 10:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Maybe later he’ll be ashamed by this, by letting Peter unravel him so completely. It’s his own fault, he knows, for dropping his defenses as he did and being either unwilling or unable to put them back up. (It’s probably both, if he were to be really honest with himself.)

But right now? In the moment? He can’t even care. With his doors wide open, their desire pools and swirls and drags him under until he’s certain he may never see the surface again, and he breathes it in, drinks deep of every press of Peter’s lips and the way their bodies slide together. Every point where skin meets skin is eclectic, white hot and burning, and he craves it.

Peter moves for the nightstand, but it seems neither of them can bear to be parted for long. Alec throws a hand over Peter’s shoulders, staying as close as he can before Peter eases him back onto the bed. ]


Yeah.

[ Still breathy, still strained, but the look he gives Peter is one of pure heat. ]
nostalgiabomb: (136)

[personal profile] nostalgiabomb 2017-02-23 01:35 am (UTC)(link)
[ ... Well, goddammit.

That might actually be the most beautiful look Peter’s ever seen. He kinda wishes he had a camera.

Except— yeah, Alec probably wouldn’t appreciate that. In fact, he’d probably, like, scrub all of the data on Peter’s storage systems just to get at the one snapped pic, and replace it all with jump-scare videos or like Gralesi shock porn or something.

Best not risk it.

Peter rubs gentle circles along the blade of Alec’s hip with his thumb, smooths his hand up Alec’s thigh. ]


Relax, okay?

[ He eases one finger past the tight ring of muscle, takes his time, tries to be gentle about it even if need swirls and crashes through the both of them, flooding the connection that ties them together, demands he go faster. But he takes his time, working Alec open, fucking him with his fingers – just one, to start, letting Alec adjust to the stretch, then two, then three, carefully scissoring his fingers, sliding them in and out in gentle little pulses. ]
striketwice: (086)

[personal profile] striketwice 2017-02-23 06:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Relax, he says, like Alec isn’t caught in a maelstrom of want and need, like he’s not hanging on by a thread at this point, but the gentle pass of Peter’s hand over his hip, his leg, unknots some of the anticipation that’s coiling in his chest.

It’s always uncomfortable at first, but Peter takes his time, eases him into it. He’d be grateful is he wasn’t so distracted by Peter’s fingers and his hands curl into the sheets as Peter works him open, head tossed back into the pillows. The discomfort melts away as he adjusts, as Peter keeps moving, every stroke of his fingers stoking a flame that starts somewhere in his belly and curls up to lick at the inside of his ribs.

Little groans and half-formed swears slip from his mouth. He might literally be going crazy, he thinks, because Peter’s fingers curl just so, sending lightning up his spine, drawing a moan out of him, low and deep and punched out from somewhere deep in his gut. ]


Fuck. God dammit, Peter— Fuck.

[ He hooks a leg around Peter’s hips, gives him a little tug forward. ]
nostalgiabomb: (035)

[personal profile] nostalgiabomb 2017-02-23 07:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Peter grins as he watches Alec come undone, as he listens to his voice break on moans and half-formed swears. He can feel it all – every little punch of pleasure, like tossing fuel onto an already burning fire. Like watching the flames sputter before climbing higher.

And part of him wants to drop those barriers, keeping everything just an arm's length away, but he's enjoying this too much, feeling in control. Alec is usually so damn composed all the time, so damn careful, so to watch him fall apart like this, to watch him teetering on the edge and wanting so badly to fall—

It's weird, how it feels like a privilege. It makes something warm flicker behind Peter's breastbone, makes something tighten around his chest. But it's a feeling that doesn't bear examining right now. Maybe later.

(Maybe never.)

Alec tugs him forward, traps him in the space with a leg hooked around his hips. Peter laughs softly, his free hand wrapping around Alec's hip – not quite pinning him to the bed, but nearly. ]


What's wrong, Alec? You suddenly got somewhere to be?

[ Peter curls his fingers again, casting down a knowing sort of smile. ]
striketwice: (030)

[personal profile] striketwice 2017-02-23 09:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Now those words sound familiar, and a spike of annoyance suddenly cuts through the fog. His head snaps up and he glares up at Peter, apparently not a fan of having his words turned back on him, but it lasts for all of a second. Peter curls his fingers, looking insufferably smug in a way that Alec would never, ever admit that he actually kind of likes, and Alec shudders, moaning as his head drops back against the pillows. The heat of his desire is going to turn him into ash, he’s certain of it.

Fuck, Peter’s really good at this, at turning him into a moaning, incoherent mess, and god dammit all he actually fucking likes it. ]


Peter.

[ It sounds more like a whine now, a plea rather than a demand, and he dizzily tries to send want pouring through their link, as if sheer volume is enough to open the doors, to truly bring them together. ]

Please.
nostalgiabomb: (091)

[personal profile] nostalgiabomb 2017-02-24 12:43 am (UTC)(link)
[ He kind of wants to drag this out as long as possible, if he’s honest. He kind of wants to bring Alec to the brink and coax him back down, over and over, wants to hear Alec sobbing Peter’s name on that same voice, pleading and sobbing and desperate for release.

Even with his own need pounding in his veins, Peter has half a mind to do— all of that. Payback, he thinks again, for all the times Alec had found the collar on his neck, teased it again and again – in private, but sometimes in public when they thought no one was looking, that fucking asshole – until Peter thought he might shake apart from how overwhelming it was. But then Alec shoves all that want through the ties binding them together, and it catches Peter by surprise, punches the air from him, and he lets out a strangled sound from the back of his throat. His hand tightens around Alec’s hip, nails digging into his skin.]


Jesus, Alec—

[ He almost jokes, All you have to do is say please, but Alec beats him to it. And not for the first time tonight, Peter’s struck by just how good he sounds like this. And with that feeling crashing through their link, Peter’s pulse thunders in his ears, and his cock fucking aches, and— ]

Okay. [ Dark, low. ] Alright, just relax.

[ Peter will tease Alec to death later, he decides, gently pulling out his fingers and groping around for the bottle. He pours a little oil into his hand and gives his cock a cursory stroke, sighing at the brief sense of relief. ]

Relax for me.

[ Because it apparently bears repeating.

And Peter carefully lines himself up, teeth biting down on his lower lip, and he rocks his hips slowly, pushing past the ring of muscle, and when he sits flush against Alec, Peter leans down to capture Alec’s lips with his. ]
striketwice: (095)

[personal profile] striketwice 2017-02-24 04:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He whines- actually whines- when Peter withdraws his fingers, the loss ringing through him like a bell. It’s shameful, really, the way he craves Peter’s every touch, his attention like it’s the only thing keeping him alive, the way he chases after it with desperation and no regard for how he’s acting.

But right now, Alec doesn’t know shame. He doesn’t care, so long as Peter keeps touching him, keeps feeding that need, spinning wildly through their link.

Peter tells him to relax again, and he tries his level best, sucks in a deep, shuddering breath as Peter slowly enters him. He whines again, though for an entirely different reason now, hands fisting into the sheets in a white-knuckled grip until Peter presses up against him, buried deep.

Their lips meet again, and Alec practically melts into the kiss, untangling one hand from the bedding to tangle in Peter’s hair, combing through his locks, drifting down to barely brush that ring of color around Peter’s throat. ]
nostalgiabomb: (025)

[personal profile] nostalgiabomb 2017-02-24 06:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It’s fierce, the way they kiss. Insistent and near bruising, fueled by an animal need, and he props himself up on an elbow, his hand curling possessively over the hinge of Alec’s jaw.

Peter had gone still once he bottomed out, giving Alec a moment to adjust to the stretch, letting Peter enjoy the feel of Alec, tight and hot around his cock. Alec’s fingers coast along the band on Peter’s throat, and Peter inhales sharply, mouth falling open and eyes screwing shut as those first few warning sparks burst in his chest. ]


Stop. [ It falls out on a laugh, breathless and warm, and he bites at Alec’s lower lip, like a warning. ] Not— not gonna last if you keep doing that.

[ He pushes himself up fully after that, his palm braced against the mattress beside Alec’s head, and he drinks in the sight of Alec beneath him, flushed and wanting, eyes dark and hair a complete mess. It’s a good look for him, Peter decides, and he smiles warmly before he ducks down again, burying his face against Alec’s neck, biting and mouthing at the tendon.

He moves, soon enough, rocking his hips slowly, pulling out almost entirely before carefully pressing himself back in, but eventually his own need spurs him faster, and they fall into a rhythm. ]
striketwice: (094)

[personal profile] striketwice 2017-02-24 07:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He feels it, the little pulses of heat that seep through their link when his fingers brush Peter’s mark, and for a second, everything in him coils tight. Okay, bad plan, but almost worth is for the way Peter breathes out a laugh, teeth catching Alec’s lower lip in admonishment. ]

It looks good on you.

[ He sounds a little distant as he says it, blissed out on molten heat and desire, and his fingers trace the line of the band around Peter’s neck, close to it but not touching. After going so long with their marks hidden, he’s struck by the realization that he likes seeing them, likes the visual reminder of how they’re tied together. Perhaps later, he won’t be so fond of the idea, but right now, with Peter over him and in him, looking down at him with that look his face, he’s strangely okay with it.

(He doesn’t know if he’s ever seen Peter smile quite like that before. It makes something in his chest constrict, and the little breath he sucks in doesn’t have much to do with the way Peter mouths at his neck.)

Alec doesn’t even have it in him to even tell Peter to move, but Peter gets on with it soon enough, though the pace is torturously slow at first. He groans and gasps all the same as Peter pulls out, presses back in again, sending ripples of heat through his whole frame. ]


Please.

[ Barely a whisper this time, his voice taught with need, just as Peter begins to pick up the pace. They move together, slipping into a rhythm with ease, which is perhaps not so surprising considering the way they’re joined, bodies and sensations and feelings singing in concert one another.

Alec’s little whines and whispers become full on moans, cries, and breathed-out curses. He tangles his fingers in Peter’s hair, tries to tug him down, to crash their mouths together again. ]
nostalgiabomb: (091)

[personal profile] nostalgiabomb 2017-02-24 08:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He lets Alec tug him down again, but Peter tempers the fierceness of the kiss a little, keeps their teeth from clacking together painfully. It’s still messy, though, still frantic, teeth catching on lips with little teasing bites. He licks into the wet heat of Alec’s mouth, and he holds himself up on an elbow, rocking in and out of Alec as that golden sort of heat pools low in his stomach, grows and grows until it threatens to boil over. ]

Fuck, [ On a heated whisper, as Alec’s whimpers turn into swears and shouts. ] Fuck, Alec, you sound so good like this—

[ His head swims a little, thanks to the alcohol still in his system, thanks to the sensations assaulting the two of them through their link, warmth and need and pleasure and a feeling of completion that fills him up, creeps into parts of him he didn’t even realize were empty. It’s intoxicating, the way he suddenly feels whole, and it only happens when he and Alec let a few of those barriers down. Alec’s defenses had long been abandoned, but Peter’s kept his in place.

Just to keep his wits about him, he says. Just so he can keep in control while he lets Alec fall apart, because one of them ought to keep their focus.

But mostly, he’s afraid of where the two of them might end up if they both surrender so completely to this. Like taking the first hit of some drug and thinking, This is going to be a problem.

He makes a strained noise against Alec’s lips, feeling that heat flare in him, punching up his spine, and he picks up the rhythm a little, chasing after his release. He reaches down with his free hand, fingers wrapping around the length of Alec’s cock all but trapped between them, and he strokes Alec in time with his thrusts. ]
striketwice: (079)

[personal profile] striketwice 2017-02-24 10:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Alec has always been a fiercely independent person, ever since he was younger. He preferred to be on his own, work on his own, keeping the world at an arm’s length through a persona that’s been so carefully crafted there are times when he even forgets it’s a mask. It was a matter of personal pride that he’d gone so long without a match. It meant never having to depend on someone, never having to let somebody else in.

Never having to face the fact that he might be half of a person without them.

But reality came down hard and fast, slapping shackles on he and Peter with no regard for their preferences. Just the universe doing what the universe wanted, and tying two sorry, broken bastards together just because it could.

Maybe in another reality, one were some quirk, the will of some nebulous powers that be, didn’t have the power or the desire to tell them they were meant for each other, he and Peter would have ended up fucking. Maybe they would have even become friends first, aggravating one another but never truly hateful. It stands to reason that they would have fallen into bed together.

But it wouldn’t have felt like this.

Alec doesn’t have the mind to admit that maybe he has been half a person all along, he doesn’t have the mind for much right now, but he revels in the way he feels whole and warm and so, so good. He’s been on the edge for a while now, broken open and undone by their mutual desire, by the flames that erupt whenever Peter’s hand ghosts over that band on his arm, and Peter keeps edging him closer and closer to falling with every thrust of his hips. Heat and wholeness seep from every cell, filling him until he feels he might burst with it. ]


Fuck. God, Peter— Peter—

[ His hand still grips Peter’s hair, probably too tightly to be comfortable, but he can’t gather his thoughts enough to let go. Peter’s hand closes around his cock, and that first stroke drives the air out of him in a groan. His mind actually blanks for a second as the fire in his veins goes white hot, his pulse roaring in his ears like thunder.

It’s too good, it’s too much, and he’s been far too close for so long now. He sucks in air in a sudden, sharp gasp, only for it to spill out again in a string of nonsense— ]


Oh God, oh God— Peter, fuck— I can’t, I— So good, so good, I can’t. Peter— I’m gonna—

[ Come, and he does. That heat spikes, spills over, and Alec’s whole body convulses with it. Peter’s name flies past his lips on a strangled cry as he comes, spilling over his stomach, over Peter’s hand. He’s dizzy with it, caught in the spiral of pleasure and desire still coursing through them, and all he can do is hold on. ]
nostalgiabomb: (151)

[personal profile] nostalgiabomb 2017-02-25 12:18 am (UTC)(link)
[ He gasps when Alec’s fingers tighten around the hair at the nape of his neck, makes a pained little noise that goes lost Alec’s tongue, but it sends a jolt of electricity straight down his spine, makes his rhythm stutter for a half-second before he finds it again.

Peter breaks off their kiss again, mouthing at the sensitive skin just beneath the hinge of Alec’s jaw. Alec’s breath is hot against his ear as he speaks, as his voice suddenly turns frantic, as he babbles out fragments of words and phrases, and Peter only has mind enough to offer an encouraging groan that hums against Alec’s neck. His skin feels two sizes too small, every inch of him far too sensitive, lighting up with every brush of contact.

Alec clenches around him, and Peter hisses out a few broken curses of his own, and he feels it when Alec comes. It slams into him like a Mack truck, a force that nearly cracks through the mental barriers Peter still has standing. Peter loses the rhythm after that, gasping against Alec’s neck, thrusting into him until, only seconds later, his own orgasm crashes over him. He spills, Alec’s name on his tongue, riding out the waves.

And when it’s over, Peter practically collapses against Alec, panting. He buries his face against his neck again, hazy and content. ]
striketwice: (040)

[personal profile] striketwice 2017-02-25 01:27 am (UTC)(link)
[ Alec hasn't even come up from his own orgasm when Peter's bowls him over. His whole body goes tense, shaking as Peter's pleasure courses through him, something like a sob escaping him. It's too much, way too much, but he doesn't want it to stop. If this tore him apart, literally rent him asunder, he wouldn't even care.

At least the tide subsides, and Alec is left sprawled on the mattress, boneless and breathing hard. His hand still rests at the nape of Peter's neck, unmoving, as the world slowly reasserts itself through the haze. He's exhausted, but he doesn't recall having ever been so warm and content in his life.

Absently, perhaps without him even realizing it, he combs his fingers through Peter's hair. Quiet small strokes of his fingers. It seems to be all the movement he's capable of for now. ]

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