[ He steps in, finally, and-- yeah, okay, it does feel nice. Hot water at long last.
(His own scrubbing session from the night before was quick and clinical -- a basin and a few washcloths. Scrub off the blood and dirt, leave as little of it behind as possible.)
So-- this is nice, but. He's sort of at a loss as to what to do now. ]
[ She can feel his eagerness, and it's taking a great force of will not to reciprocate and send them both spiraling into a frenzy like the last time. Instead, he zeroes in on his nervousness, tilting her head at him.
The motion is distinctly less bird-like, and definitely more human. ]
[ he nods once before he closes the short distance between them, lips pressing against her throat. Still gentle and tentative, if only because he's slightly self-conscious now. His hands move from her hips, on raising to cup her cheek (sorry to get your hair wet, Maya) , the other resting at her waist. ]
[ She tilts her head back to give him better access, eyes falling closed. Really, she's not too worried about her hair getting wet, and instead revels in the feel of his skin on hers.
She's keeping herself in check, though, even as she gives a murmur of approval and drags her hands over his chest. She wants them both to enjoy this, not go totally crazy like the last time. (Not as though that wasn't enjoyable, but sometimes it's better to take things slow.) ]
[ after yesterday's chaos, taking it slow is probably the best bet -- it's certainly Peter's plan, at any rate; he seems dead set on acquainting himself with the curve of her waist, the slant of her shoulder, the feel of her skin.
(Although a part of him definitely wants to just take her, because he aches, but he can wait. He can be patient, when he needs to be.)
His fingers brush against the newly formed skin on her back, and he pauses, glancing up at her. ]
[ it's good that one of them has self-control! Because while Peter is better about keeping himself in check, he forgets how much of him bleeds through in their connection, forgets to keep that in control. And he really. really. wants her.
He's careful to move his hands from the still healing patch of skin (if only because the reminder is an unpleasant one, but also because he would hate to hurt her), settling at the small of her back. He moves forward again, runs his tongue hesitantly along her collarbone and presses a kiss to the dip of her throat. Every touch is gentle and a little hesitant, like he's unsure of himself or of her or of just-- this in general. His experiences before this were more about need than romance. He just doesn't want to screw something up. ]
[ She's going to have to teach him how to filter a little better, because that's really distracting. Her hands grip his shoulders, nails digging in just slightly. ]
Mm. What you want and what you're doing don't seem to be matching up.
[ He doesn't wait for a reply, instead moving his hand to thread into her hair. He moves forward to kiss her, insistent and passionate, his other arm wrapping around her to bring her closer. ]
[ -- That. Okay, that's a good sound. And he smiles a little, pulling back only long enough to press his lips against her neck, running his tongue along one of the lines of her tattoo, followed by gentle scraping of his teeth. ]
[ Again, she tilts her head to let him do as he pleases. The scrape of his teeth send little shivers down her spine, and she laughs, the sound practically a purr ]
[ He hums, the intonation slightly raised as if it were a question. He notices the way she shivers, and on a hunch he runs a circle with his tongue where her neck meets her shoulder, then bites. ]
[ The surprises her- certainly not in a bad way, but enough that her filter momentarily slips. She had no idea she'd enjoy the biting, scratching, what have you, but shit, that hurt in all the best ways. She sucks in a breath through her teeth, squirming against him in earnest.
(It occurs to her briefly that if she weren't becoming more human, she probably would not have been able to feel that. Thank god for small favors.) ]
[ Fuck, okay, that was a good reaction, and Peter chokes back a moan when her control drops, hands tightening their grip, because shit, he's seriously fucking aching right now, and the way she's moving against him is not helping and--
Screw it.
He shifts a little, giving him better access, and slides in his cock. He sighs, a mixture of relief and want, pulls her in closer, tongue sliding up her neck, to just beneath her jaw. ]
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Just get in here already.
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(His own scrubbing session from the night before was quick and clinical -- a basin and a few washcloths. Scrub off the blood and dirt, leave as little of it behind as possible.)
So-- this is nice, but. He's sort of at a loss as to what to do now. ]
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Nice of you to join me.
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UH.
HI.
His hands settle on her hips, and he swallows, a weird mix of nervous and eager. ]
Figured you might get a little too lonely in here.
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The motion is distinctly less bird-like, and definitely more human. ]
Why are you nervous?
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Just-- new territory, is all.
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We can take it slowly, if you'd prefer.
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If that means you basically torture me like this, then no thanks.
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Very well, then. You set the pace.
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She's keeping herself in check, though, even as she gives a murmur of approval and drags her hands over his chest. She wants them both to enjoy this, not go totally crazy like the last time. (Not as though that wasn't enjoyable, but sometimes it's better to take things slow.) ]
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(Although a part of him definitely wants to just take her, because he aches, but he can wait. He can be patient, when he needs to be.)
His fingers brush against the newly formed skin on her back, and he pauses, glancing up at her. ]
Sure this is okay?
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It's fine. It doesn't hurt.
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He's careful to move his hands from the still healing patch of skin (if only because the reminder is an unpleasant one, but also because he would hate to hurt her), settling at the small of her back. He moves forward again, runs his tongue hesitantly along her collarbone and presses a kiss to the dip of her throat. Every touch is gentle and a little hesitant, like he's unsure of himself or of her or of just-- this in general. His experiences before this were more about need than romance. He just doesn't want to screw something up. ]
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Mm. What you want and what you're doing don't seem to be matching up.
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[ ... Oh. Right. He smiles a little sheepishly. ]
I'm guessing that's a hint, huh?
[ He doesn't wait for a reply, instead moving his hand to thread into her hair. He moves forward to kiss her, insistent and passionate, his other arm wrapping around her to bring her closer. ]
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Yes, yes. This is much better. ]
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You're very good with your mouth.
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(It occurs to her briefly that if she weren't becoming more human, she probably would not have been able to feel that. Thank god for small favors.) ]
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Screw it.
He shifts a little, giving him better access, and slides in his cock. He sighs, a mixture of relief and want, pulls her in closer, tongue sliding up her neck, to just beneath her jaw. ]