Quentin puts a hand on the back of Peter's neck. Quentin herds him against the elevator wall. Peter feels his pulse quicken, then jump up even higher when the other man presses his nose against the curl of his hair. He was always too embarrassed to ask for this kind of thing before Quentin: so far his boyfriends and girlfriends have wanted to break from tradition, not play into the stupid roles, and while Peter gets that, it's also made scratching his kinkier itches a little ...
Difficult. How're you supposed to ask your Alpha, Omega-rights activist girlfriend to treat you like a possession? How're you supposed to ask your Beta boyfriend if he could pretend he's trying to get you pregnant? Peter sighs deeply, turning his own face into the front of Quentin's throat, then brings his hands up to smooth against the broad, hard planes of his chest.
"'Kay," he murmurs, feeling himself smile despite himself. He is needy, and he wants that knot stretching him open and filling him up over and over before the night is up. Beck might not be a real superhero, but he's always had enough stamina to keep up with Peter and his needs.
It's a blessing.
"I wanna kiss you." Slipping a hand up to Quentin's neck, Peter lifts his eyes to the smooth curve of his lips before wetting his own with a flit of his tongue. "Please, Sir."
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Quentin puts a hand on the back of Peter's neck. Quentin herds him against the elevator wall. Peter feels his pulse quicken, then jump up even higher when the other man presses his nose against the curl of his hair. He was always too embarrassed to ask for this kind of thing before Quentin: so far his boyfriends and girlfriends have wanted to break from tradition, not play into the stupid roles, and while Peter gets that, it's also made scratching his kinkier itches a little ...
Difficult. How're you supposed to ask your Alpha, Omega-rights activist girlfriend to treat you like a possession? How're you supposed to ask your Beta boyfriend if he could pretend he's trying to get you pregnant? Peter sighs deeply, turning his own face into the front of Quentin's throat, then brings his hands up to smooth against the broad, hard planes of his chest.
"'Kay," he murmurs, feeling himself smile despite himself. He is needy, and he wants that knot stretching him open and filling him up over and over before the night is up. Beck might not be a real superhero, but he's always had enough stamina to keep up with Peter and his needs.
It's a blessing.
"I wanna kiss you." Slipping a hand up to Quentin's neck, Peter lifts his eyes to the smooth curve of his lips before wetting his own with a flit of his tongue. "Please, Sir."