Pushy, [ he whispers against the touch sliding down his hair and pressing in against where neck and skull meet. he leans in slowly towards him, letting his fingers pull back while he pulls juno close and guides himself in. it's not an easy glide, rather, it's hot and messy and peter has to bite down on a groan that chokes itself out bit by bit. he presses his hips forward and back, a testing motion met with damp, trembling friction that he couples with taking juno's mouth against his own and kissing him hard.
they've been through too much. peter can feel the ache in his body, taste where juno's lip still feels dry and split, cracked. he can practically smell the martian desert, dusty and irradiated in every pore of his skin, the blood. so he kisses him, and he kisses him again, desperate, hungry sounds barely whispers in his throat as he rolls his hips forward. he can taste the gardenia again in the back of his throat like a ghost: i love you, i love you whispered softly against each kiss.
he's sick, absolutely lovesick, and it makes him dizzy as he moves with juno, full-bodied motions like the rocking of dark waves on the edge of the beaches on venus that spare nothing.
every press is impassioned, a step up from simply tender and affectionate, teasing and drawing things out. heated and open mouthed, peter tests the give and twist of juno's body, letting arms slip around his shoulders, pressing him up against the pillows along the headboard to angle him just right against his cock. there's a sense of all of this being too surreal, the serpents twisting in his belly as he feels the dip of the bed, the way juno feels tight and perfect around his cock. ]
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they've been through too much. peter can feel the ache in his body, taste where juno's lip still feels dry and split, cracked. he can practically smell the martian desert, dusty and irradiated in every pore of his skin, the blood. so he kisses him, and he kisses him again, desperate, hungry sounds barely whispers in his throat as he rolls his hips forward. he can taste the gardenia again in the back of his throat like a ghost: i love you, i love you whispered softly against each kiss.
he's sick, absolutely lovesick, and it makes him dizzy as he moves with juno, full-bodied motions like the rocking of dark waves on the edge of the beaches on venus that spare nothing.
every press is impassioned, a step up from simply tender and affectionate, teasing and drawing things out. heated and open mouthed, peter tests the give and twist of juno's body, letting arms slip around his shoulders, pressing him up against the pillows along the headboard to angle him just right against his cock. there's a sense of all of this being too surreal, the serpents twisting in his belly as he feels the dip of the bed, the way juno feels tight and perfect around his cock. ]