[ He can be demanding on occasion. The slap gets sharp intake from Peter before he chuckles out a laugh. He knows John has a very good point but what can he say? It's fun to mess with the man and he's impatient. ]
Alright, alright...you have such a sweet way with words. I'll behave. [ Constantine getting on with the program manages not only to calm down a little but it also makes him bow his head forward, the muscles of his abs tensing and releasing as he adjusts to the intrusion.
True to his words, Peter doesn't urge him again, instead leaning forwards to rest his forearms against the couch, fingers digging into the leather fabric and enjoying the ride. His breath hitches at the sensation of longer fingers pushing in again, wriggling a little to stretch him, loosen him to take another. If he's honest with himself, it's been a while since anybody gave him proper attention and Constantine has quite the skilled fingers. Peter would tell him exactly how good it feels if he could find the words to do so and if it weren't because the man's ego doesn't need to be more inflated. ]
Jooohn, goddamnit. [ He gives a full-body shudder when the pad of Constantineās finger grazes ever-so-gently over his prostate, muscles clenching around them before they're gone, leaving him feeling empty.
For all his big talk about going fast, Peter looks flushed, his cheeks warm and blood running hot, making his skin tingle. Constantine's hands are hot, sloppy-wet with lube, and Peter isn't bothered about it in the slightest. He whines lowly in the back of his throat when his cock finally breaches him and arches his back again, an arm reaching behind himself to run his hand through the short blond hair and give it a tug.
Peter can feel his body adjusting to the intrusion fast enough that Constantine's words don't feel undeserved, the burn of the stretch switching to a more pleasant pressure. He still gives his hair another pull in retaliation. The effect's a little diminished by the fact that Peter is also rolling his hips back to meet Constantine half way. ]
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Alright, alright...you have such a sweet way with words. I'll behave. [ Constantine getting on with the program manages not only to calm down a little but it also makes him bow his head forward, the muscles of his abs tensing and releasing as he adjusts to the intrusion.
True to his words, Peter doesn't urge him again, instead leaning forwards to rest his forearms against the couch, fingers digging into the leather fabric and enjoying the ride. His breath hitches at the sensation of longer fingers pushing in again, wriggling a little to stretch him, loosen him to take another. If he's honest with himself, it's been a while since anybody gave him proper attention and Constantine has quite the skilled fingers. Peter would tell him exactly how good it feels if he could find the words to do so and if it weren't because the man's ego doesn't need to be more inflated. ]
Jooohn, goddamnit. [ He gives a full-body shudder when the pad of Constantineās finger grazes ever-so-gently over his prostate, muscles clenching around them before they're gone, leaving him feeling empty.
For all his big talk about going fast, Peter looks flushed, his cheeks warm and blood running hot, making his skin tingle. Constantine's hands are hot, sloppy-wet with lube, and Peter isn't bothered about it in the slightest. He whines lowly in the back of his throat when his cock finally breaches him and arches his back again, an arm reaching behind himself to run his hand through the short blond hair and give it a tug.
Peter can feel his body adjusting to the intrusion fast enough that Constantine's words don't feel undeserved, the burn of the stretch switching to a more pleasant pressure. He still gives his hair another pull in retaliation. The effect's a little diminished by the fact that Peter is also rolling his hips back to meet Constantine half way. ]
I think it would look better on my ass-cheek.