( nowhere near as coordinated as wade, peter's kisses get sloppier when those roaming hands encourage his movement and drift back to grab and cup his ass. he can't help it, he goes a little slack jawed against wade's mouth, panting hotly between them. he responds in kind, taking the opportunity to rock forward atop his lap, trying to get friction by rubbing against the other's stomach. it's not very effective but he's so touch starved that he enjoys the hell out of the sensations anyway; wade practically rutting under him, hard, how their hearts are racing, and if he's seemingly dazed it's because each one of his senses is overstimulated and he is so out of practice.
his voice makes peter feel unhinged (nobody should sound that hot, it's illegal) and his fingers dig into wade's shoulder for a beat too long because of it. he's aware, like he's hyperaware of every point they're touching (it's a bit like discovering his powers all over again, going haywire, like if he doesn't keep some semblance of control under the intensity, he'll do something stupid), that wade's looking for a fastener. the first suit unzipped, but after connors practically shredded that one and the various scenarios that rocked him, peter felt a multiple piece suit was more convenient. )
Like a shirt. ( he mumbles, then reaches to yank it up over his head. the material clings, skin-tight and all, and he's got a serious case of mask hair going on, though it's only after the chill of a sporadic breeze strikes his bare skin that he remembers where they are — in plain view of any other superheroes/vigilantes, helicopters, and god knows what else. wade is incredibly overdressed in comparison.
he presses his kiss-swollen lips together into a line, eyes ever so slightly narrowed (more quizzical than anything else) because he can now see the scars and it's a lot, like nothing peter imagined when wade would joke at his own expense, but the biggest curiosity is whether it actively hurts; if he's hurting him right now. he cuts his gaze down, follows the skim of his hands down the leather at the front of wade's suit, over his stomach. it's the muscles for him, oof. )
Can I take this off? Because I want to ( he takes the plunge, moves his palm from midsection to the front of wade's pants (if he allows him, he's fast enough to stop peter's wandering hands), to grasp at at the outline of his cock. as good as he can stroke him through leather with his thumb and index finger anyway. ) feel you. I can do that a lot better without all this crap in my way.
no subject
his voice makes peter feel unhinged (nobody should sound that hot, it's illegal) and his fingers dig into wade's shoulder for a beat too long because of it. he's aware, like he's hyperaware of every point they're touching (it's a bit like discovering his powers all over again, going haywire, like if he doesn't keep some semblance of control under the intensity, he'll do something stupid), that wade's looking for a fastener. the first suit unzipped, but after connors practically shredded that one and the various scenarios that rocked him, peter felt a multiple piece suit was more convenient. )
Like a shirt. ( he mumbles, then reaches to yank it up over his head. the material clings, skin-tight and all, and he's got a serious case of mask hair going on, though it's only after the chill of a sporadic breeze strikes his bare skin that he remembers where they are — in plain view of any other superheroes/vigilantes, helicopters, and god knows what else. wade is incredibly overdressed in comparison.
he presses his kiss-swollen lips together into a line, eyes ever so slightly narrowed (more quizzical than anything else) because he can now see the scars and it's a lot, like nothing peter imagined when wade would joke at his own expense, but the biggest curiosity is whether it actively hurts; if he's hurting him right now. he cuts his gaze down, follows the skim of his hands down the leather at the front of wade's suit, over his stomach. it's the muscles for him, oof. )
Can I take this off? Because I want to ( he takes the plunge, moves his palm from midsection to the front of wade's pants (if he allows him, he's fast enough to stop peter's wandering hands), to grasp at at the outline of his cock. as good as he can stroke him through leather with his thumb and index finger anyway. ) feel you. I can do that a lot better without all this crap in my way.