museyboxy | Thread continuations

Peter's hands flex and pull, yanked suddenly from Garrett's shoulders as Peter remembers himself - be careful, be gentle, other people are tissue paper - his wide eyes searching urgently for breaks or bruises, but there's nothing.

There's barely even a lingering redness where his hands had been, and this, as much as Garrett reminding him to breathe, is what calms Peter down. He lifts his hands to Garrett's arm and squeezes. And again, squeezing with all his might. Garrett's bones don't break, his muscles barely even give, and Peter takes his first full breath in moments.

Breathe.

Lifting his head, Peter's eyes are wide but clear, and he nods at Garrett.

Garrett looks at Peter's hands, too, and his eyes flick up in sync. A smile tugs across his face at the realization happening in Peter's head.

"See?" Garrett leans in closer, nosing at him to seek a kiss and speak against his lips. "Hold as tight as you want. You couldn't hurt me if you tried."

There's a casual confidence that borders on arrogant- that as he is, Peter couldn't possibly do the slightest harm to all of Garrett's strength.

Peter gives him a shaky nod. He doesn't need to try again to know that he can't hurt Garrett. He still has decades of muscle memory, he still knows how to fight, but he couldn't even push him away if he wanted to right now. He still has his brain, he's still formidable, but...he's not Spider-Man. Not right now.

Lifting his chin, Peter seeks Garrett's mouth with his own, eager to feel what it is to be kissed by a man when entirely human.

Garrett meets him immediately, sweeping Peter up into a kiss just as deep and scorching as the last, pouring greedy hunger into it that roars in his veins of conquest and claim. He's taken Peter's strength, his power- now Garrett's taking his mouth as thoroughly as he's going to take his body. Taking. Claiming. His.

The hand at the small of Peter's back slides down under his waistband, moving down to grope boldly at his ass, while the other buries in salt-streaked hair to hold Peter close. His own blood is aflame, heart pounding from the heat and closeness of the kiss, from the wet slide and depth and the want of it. Before he knows it, Garrett is hiking up Peter's shirt, bullying him into lifting his arms (if he doesn't cooperate fast enough, at least), yanking it over his head, and flinging it away. Before he knows it, he's grasping Peter by the waist and turning him to push the man down onto the bed, still kissing him furiously.

Peter hardly has time to feel the usual shame as his body is bared to Garrett's eyes and hands. He lifts his arms to help relieve him of his shirt, and then his back is hitting the mattress, bouncing off of it just to meet Garrett's larger, heavier body.

Peter groans and reaches for him, listening to the urge in his blood to give in, to cede control, to let this happen like Garrett wants it to happen. It's an enormous amount of trust, but even without his spidey-senses Peter's come to trust Garrett. The man is Lot, oftentimes as ridiculous as he is impressive, but he's got a heart good enough that Tanglethorn can't derail. Peter wants to tell him so, but without his voice all he can do is open his mouth and meet him kiss for bruising kiss.

It's always odd to be with someone Silenced, when he's the only voice in the room and barely even moans to keep him company. But it's worth it to hear those tiny, tiny sounds they make, the way the most desperate of desire in them is forced out in pathetic little cries and the softest of whimpers. It's worth it now, to be able to bear down on Peter, force the man's knees apart with his own, and hold him down as he kisses him deep and scorching.

A hand comes up to Peter's hair, the better to pull his head back sharply and kiss his neck. Sucking, biting, nips and kisses until there are marks in Peter's kin and he can feel the prickle of stubble against his lips.

At some point he pulls back so he can see Peter's face to ask, "Have you ever gotten fucked before?"

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