[ If the situation were different and magic not involved, Peter would be doing far more unexpected and nice things to Constantine. Those will have to wait until later.
John is usually so self-assured that seeing him flail is rather amusing but his hand finds Peter's curls soon enough and the Guardian lets out a small, pleased hum. He doesn't mind the rougher pull. Most aliens mistook him for a Kree, a species far more durable than humans, and didn't consider gentle handling necessary. Peter grew used to it with time.
He is being very, very careful with his teeth every time he has to bite onto a piece of the corn shell, getting rid of it as swiftly as he can, swallowing rather than chewing, and his fingers wander over Constantine's body to distract him. A slightly callused hand is on the backs of John’s muscular thighs while the other slides down the curve of his hip, teasing the softer skin there before it cups his balls, rolling them a little.
Ah, self restrain. If Peter knew anything about it, he wouldn't be on his knees. He looks up at Constantine, red lips wrapped around the head of the man's cock and tongue pressed against the slit. Bright green eyes stare up for a few seconds and his cheeks hollow as he sucks John off and Peter smirks at the question. He pulls himself off the cockhead with a soft wet pop, the wicked grin on his face sharpening. ]
I'm pretty sure the Galaxy can guard itself for a little while.
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John is usually so self-assured that seeing him flail is rather amusing but his hand finds Peter's curls soon enough and the Guardian lets out a small, pleased hum. He doesn't mind the rougher pull. Most aliens mistook him for a Kree, a species far more durable than humans, and didn't consider gentle handling necessary. Peter grew used to it with time.
He is being very, very careful with his teeth every time he has to bite onto a piece of the corn shell, getting rid of it as swiftly as he can, swallowing rather than chewing, and his fingers wander over Constantine's body to distract him. A slightly callused hand is on the backs of John’s muscular thighs while the other slides down the curve of his hip, teasing the softer skin there before it cups his balls, rolling them a little.
Ah, self restrain. If Peter knew anything about it, he wouldn't be on his knees. He looks up at Constantine, red lips wrapped around the head of the man's cock and tongue pressed against the slit. Bright green eyes stare up for a few seconds and his cheeks hollow as he sucks John off and Peter smirks at the question. He pulls himself off the cockhead with a soft wet pop, the wicked grin on his face sharpening. ]
I'm pretty sure the Galaxy can guard itself for a little while.