[ 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.
[That is the correct answer, congratulations, he can pass go and collect £200. But also, don't stop doing that criminal thing he's doing with his tongue. Did he learn that from a space jellyfish?]
Good. [The way he says it, he was very obviously holding his breath. Letting it out, his chest rises and falls with each shallow pant as he takes his cock in his hand and rubs, hand and cock slick with spit from the base of the shaft up to the tip.]
I was gonna take you upstairs but. [He slips a finger into the knot of his tie and pulls it off completely.] Here's good don't you think? [John doesn't even know where to start with Peter's space cowboy outfit thing but he's grabbing lapels and pulling until he can find buttons, zips and/or lace to undo.]
[ Oh he's going to collect something alright. Given Peter's variety of past alien partners, some of them being part jellyfish wouldn't be out of the real of the possibility. One did have tentacles, once. Now that there's no more food on the way of things and the heat in John's voice is more evident, Peter bits the inside of the man's thigh and then stands up to undress. ]
The night is long, we can go upstairs later. [ It's murmured against Constantine's mouth before Peter kisses him again, hot and demanding. They're both too riled up for walking now and Peter's is not delicate, he doesn't need a real bed. Big, soft mattress have their advantages but couches work just fine for him.
He pulls away when they need to breathe, amused at John's wandering hands, and pulls his shirt over his head in a swift movement, leaving it to fall on the floor. It's only part of his belt that gets in the way but he knows how to unfasten it quickly enough without looking, even when the front of his pants is straining. He knows his clothes well enough, the zippers and pockets, that the next time he's touching John he leaves a small tube of lube on the palm of his hand. ]
I had a well-earned reputation. [ It's the only explanation Peter gives, lips moving over the pale's neck to suck on the pulse point, aiming to leave a red mark. He slides a leg between Constantine's own as he nips at the skin. ] Assuming this isn't a really twisted way to get me to do some sort of demon summoning sex ritual with you...do you have a preference?
[ Peter is as flexible as they come but not everyone's the same and it doesn't hurt to double-check. ]
[John has a much easier time with his own attire. It's just a row of buttons down the front of his shirt holding it together. Difficult as it is to keep his hands to himself, he breathes a sigh of relief once the last button comes undone, letting his shirt hang open as he closes the distance between them and crushes their lips together again.
He grinds his crotch against Peter's, a quiet little hum rumbling from his lips as he is greeted with a significant bulge. His fingers curl around the lube, holding it for now and nudging his knee against the outside of Peter's thigh when that leg slips between his.
Does he have a preference? The answer to that is generally yes, he would prefer this happening over this not happening. Beyond that, he's not got specific scripts or fantasies that play out in his mind. Not right now, anyway.]
No rituals. Promise. Now bend over. [He gives Peter a shove against his chest with his free hand, a wicked grin greeting that face as the couch rushes up to cushion that butt that looks like it fills out every centimetre of those skin-tight trousers. Nothing says thanks like a stiff one up the arse, right? John pops the lid open and tugs at Peter's hip to get him on all fours.]
[ Peter takes off his boots and sock as well as his pants without looking and with practiced ease. It looks like John's preferences and his own align perfectly and he doesn't feel like wasting more time now that clothes are no longer in the way. A thrill curl in his chest as the blond crushes their lips together, hands sliding over Constantine's arse cheeks, squeezing. He moans against this mouth, cock twitching with interest as they press flush against each other. Before they pull away, Peter drags his nails up the small of Constantine's back leaving small red trails on skin. No rituals are definitely a good thing. While Peter loves all kinds of sexy, from caring to wild, demons are way out of his league. ]
Bossy. [ The guardian quips, a glint in his eyes when he spots Constantine's grin, moving as ordered. ] Do it more.
[ Peter gets a lot of shit from Rocket about his body but he's got some pretty strong thighs form all the running he does in a regular bases and shoulders to match. He can hear Constantine crack the lube open behind him, and he spread his legs a little further. He rolls his hips, body pressing against John's hand. ]
Nice tattoos. [ He says casually, looking over his shoulder and staring into brown eyes before arching his back. ] Now stop fucking around. The quicker we do this the sooner we get to the really fun part. I want your cock in me.
[Talk about bossy. Jesus. John huffs a sigh and slaps the side of Peter's thigh before he goes on to squeeze a healthy amount of lube onto his fingers. It's warm almost immediately, nice and slick to play with, and hopefully squeezing a glob out onto the tight, puckered rim of muscle will get Quill to settle down.]
Appreciate you're randy love but if you want to walk tomorrow you'll be a bit less of an eager cunt. [John bites down on his bottom lip as he pushes the lube into Peter's tight little fuckhole and eases just one finger in at first, progressing quickly to two when he relaxes and loosens up. Anyone would be horny watching that asshole tighten around his fingers, but John can't resist fingerfucking him for a while until his own cock is twitching in anticipation.
It probably feels oddly hollow for a moment while John lubes himself up. He leaves a wet spot on Peter's hip as he lines them up and rubs the length of his cock between those buttcheeks, shuddering and sighing at the sensation up and down the length of the shaft.
He's wasting perfectly good lube, he knows, getting it everywhere, but he doesn't want to hear any complaints when he finally pushes just the head in between Peter's legs, easing in excruciatingly slow.]
Oh, fuck. I'm gon' tattoo fucking slut on your forehead. Fuck.
[ 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 Constantine’s 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. ]
[He'd say that not nearly enough people would get to see it then, but who knows, maybe Peter Quill really is the slut of the universe and this bare ass gets plenty of mileage. He'd almost be jealous about the variety of things Peter could get his dick stuck in if it weren't for the fact that John hasn't managed to exhaust all his options on his own home turf just yet.
He holds those asscheeks apart with his thumbs as he slides in, deep, forgoing the slow and making Peter feel every inch moving inside him for something more on the quick and dirty side. He's been hard and aching for a while and there's a bit of selfish relief-seeking alongside his usual considerations for making the other party feel good enough to keep coming back for more.
His lubed hand doesn't stay on Peter's curves for long, sliding around his hip to smear some residual lube on his cock that's so far been dangling neglected between his legs. John doesn't really set a particular rhythm, opting instead to fuck Peter in shallow and fast thrusts while his fist pumps Peter's hard cock until it's leaking at the head.]
Head down, arse up love. [It's not a request. His free hand slides up from Peter's hip to give his back a firm press downwards before blunt nails rake down to his tailbone. It makes it easier to hit his sweet spot like this, get him to scream.]
[ Peter still has to save the Galaxy and whatnot and having a tattoo in his forehead would undermine the little authority he has. As for his sexcapades, they had calmed a little now that he has a proper crew to look after but his tastes are still the same. Which is to say, as long as his partner is willing, that is his only demand. If Constantine were feeling adventurous, Peter would happily drag him across the universe so he can cross 'Aliens of all shapes' off his sex bingo card ].
Fuck. [ The slight sting of pain at the beginning sends an electric sensation running from scalp to cock, and he fails to swallow back a groan. Peter hisses and then moans, lips falling open when John slides a slick hand down his shaft and starts jerking him. It's a headlong rush of cock-throbbing pleasure that combined with the sharp, blunt thrusts against his ass makes Peter keen.
The muscles in his thighs quiver with the effort to remain upright and it almost comes as a relief when Constantine pushes him down. Peter asked him to be bossier so he has no complaints when it happens. The bluntness and the fingers digging into his skin along with the pressure of a thick cock dragging against his sensitive walls are enough to get him to moan like a two-bit whore. His only regret is that he can't as active as he usually or even try to follow John's rhythm.
He pushes against John’s fingers and back to meet the cock buried into him as much as he can, rolling his hips, but mostly leave the occultist to set the pace. Peter's gone pliant and wordless, lost in their wet point of contact. The obscene wet noises are only drowned by the sounds dropping from Peter's slack mouth and both are increasing in rhythm as John starts fucking him hard and fast, rubbing at his prostate with perfect aim. Constantine seems to be enjoying this as much as he is, which is saying something because Peter’s pretty sure he’s going to orgasm himself into a coma. ]
[The couch creaks and squeaks with every thrust, having not had to endure such rigorous activity in a while that it threatens to give way the harder John fucks Peter into the cushions. The candles and the chalk lay on the floor forgotten, just almost-gaudy decorations to add to an ambience that neither of them can see from this angle anyway, alongside his earlier mishap that brought Quill here. What matters now is just between the two of them.
He'll know that John is close the more uncoordinated and out of sync his hand is with his hips. He didn't seem to mind varying things up a bit at first, slow strokes at the base and fast tugs near the head, but he can't fuck as hard as he wants to if he's focusing on doing that. Gradually his hand stills and Peter unfortunately has to do a bit more work to get himself off while John rams him hard from behind, seeking out that sweet spot that has Peter clamping down hard around him over and over and over again.]
I'm gonna cum. [A little hoarse, a little difficult to make out amidst the horny noises Peter is making on top of the couch scratching against the floorboards, but those words were definitely uttered as John unintentionally tightens his grip around Peter's cock.]
[ If the couch breaks under them, it would have an honorable death. It would hardly be the first time the guardian breaks something while fucking, Krees don't even know their own strength sometimes and Peter makes a good distraction. Sometimes this is exactly what he needs, something raw, fast, and dirty.
His right hands sneak between his legs to cover John's own and finish what the man started. While he doesn't hear Constantine's warning properly, there's enough tell tall signs int eh change of rhythm and their urgency to make it clear enough. He's close as well, the muscles of his back and abs tensing up with every thrust. His free hand reaches back, grabbing onto Constantine's thigh, nails digging into the skin as a litany of yes, yes, yes falls from his lips.
A breathless groan escapes him when Constantine picks up the rhythm and jerks him, and Peter comes with a shout, so hard that white flashes behind his eyes. His body clamps down, ass clutching at the man's cock as he shakes through the waves of sensation. He does collapse forward then, the leather of the coach feels blessedly cold against his cheekbone. Peter's left panting while John's fucking into him, aftershocks rippling through his body and endorphins drowning his brain, only vaguely aware of the passing of time. ]
[John is still moving inside him even after they both cum, with slower and shallower thrusts while half-heartedly holding Peter down against the couch as he comes down from his high. Gradually he'll stop and pull out, but not until after Quill's stopped twitching and shivering. Of course, a part of him wants the other bloke to feel this for days. But he won't easily admit to quite so selfish or petty desires.]
You alright love? [John pets Peter on the ass a few times, laughing as he plops down unceremoniously on an unoccupied sliver of couch. He's a little tired now, but a good kind of tired. And while he's not in a hurry to throw Quill down for round two or anything, he wouldn't mind hitting the bed and indulging in a bit of light touching and comforting for a while.]
Come on, you'll be more comfortable upstairs. [And by 'you' he obviously means 'we'.]
[ John is a little bit of a bastard because Peter's already getting oversensitive, yet the Guardian doesn't complain. He likes that kind of edge too. He whines and squirms against the other man, the rippling of the post-orgasm bliss leaving him feeling weightless.
Peter hums as an answer, letting Constantine pet him before he moves, pliant and relaxed. He runs a hand through his hair to try and fix the mess. If anything, Peter only makes it worse. ]
I'm wonderful. Feel free to call me more often, magic involved or not.
[ This is the sort of worn out Peter enjoys more and he's got plans for the rest of the night if John doesn't want him gone already. It doesn't seem to be the case and Peter gives him a smile before his hand sneaks behind John's neck and he pulls him into a kiss before they have to get moving. ]
[Well, you know, he was obviously in the middle of something before he decided to fuck a taco or throw a taco shell through an experimental portal or whatever it was he claims he was doing if the state of the floor is anything to go by. But Constantine would be having his priorities arse-backwards if he's going to turn Peter away for another night slaving away to magic.
When he eventually reluctantly pulls back from the kiss, he grabs the brunette by the wrist and tries to help him up, chuckling as their bodies press together again once they're both upright. He nibbles along that stubbled jaw and presses a kiss to the corner of those irresistible lips before he tugs him along to climb up the stairs.
He almost trips over a step in his hurry to get upstairs, catching himself with a hand on the floor and laughing. Yeah, he might not be able to get it up yet, but that just means they'll have more time to make out on the bed while they recover.]
Come 'ere, you. [That bed that John is shoving Peter onto is going to see a lot of action tonight.]
[ That something can wait until tomorrow morning, in Peter's opinions. Besides, Constantine will be more relaxed, which might help him focus on his magic and avoid more food-related accidents. Peter is helping, really.
He is also leaning against John with a smile and a grateful look. Walking is a bit tricky but he will get eh hang of it in a minute. The nibbling ears John a low, pleased hum and Peter murmuring praises under his breath. As they get into the room, his hands are wandering a little because he enjoys touching his partners and it's not every day that he falls into bed with a handsome British with a silver tongue. Seriously, that accent might be one of Peter's favorite things in the world. One day he needs to coach Constantine into singing something.
He chuckles when they trip and helps John up, or maybe John is helping him, it's hard to tell. They make it to the bed eventually, or rather, Constantine pushes him into it and Peter reaches out to grab the man's arm and pulls him all over him. ]
I think I like it better without appetizers on the way. The Guardian says cheekily but his voice is low and throaty and his eyes darken.
[ It feels only natural to loop his arms around John’s neck and pull him in for another kiss. There isn't as much urgency as before but no less interest either and Peter hums into the taste of their tongues together, hot and slick when he opens his mouth wider. By the time they break apart to breathe Peter's knees are nudging either side of John's thighs and his hands slide up his shoulder, nails digging a little. ]
So...is there anything you'd like to try properly now that we're not in a rush? I take request.
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spacedisaster) wrote2020-04-04 10:37 pm
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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.
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Good. [The way he says it, he was very obviously holding his breath. Letting it out, his chest rises and falls with each shallow pant as he takes his cock in his hand and rubs, hand and cock slick with spit from the base of the shaft up to the tip.]
I was gonna take you upstairs but. [He slips a finger into the knot of his tie and pulls it off completely.] Here's good don't you think? [John doesn't even know where to start with Peter's space cowboy outfit thing but he's grabbing lapels and pulling until he can find buttons, zips and/or lace to undo.]
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The night is long, we can go upstairs later. [ It's murmured against Constantine's mouth before Peter kisses him again, hot and demanding. They're both too riled up for walking now and Peter's is not delicate, he doesn't need a real bed. Big, soft mattress have their advantages but couches work just fine for him.
He pulls away when they need to breathe, amused at John's wandering hands, and pulls his shirt over his head in a swift movement, leaving it to fall on the floor. It's only part of his belt that gets in the way but he knows how to unfasten it quickly enough without looking, even when the front of his pants is straining. He knows his clothes well enough, the zippers and pockets, that the next time he's touching John he leaves a small tube of lube on the palm of his hand. ]
I had a well-earned reputation. [ It's the only explanation Peter gives, lips moving over the pale's neck to suck on the pulse point, aiming to leave a red mark. He slides a leg between Constantine's own as he nips at the skin. ] Assuming this isn't a really twisted way to get me to do some sort of demon summoning sex ritual with you...do you have a preference?
[ Peter is as flexible as they come but not everyone's the same and it doesn't hurt to double-check. ]
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He grinds his crotch against Peter's, a quiet little hum rumbling from his lips as he is greeted with a significant bulge. His fingers curl around the lube, holding it for now and nudging his knee against the outside of Peter's thigh when that leg slips between his.
Does he have a preference? The answer to that is generally yes, he would prefer this happening over this not happening. Beyond that, he's not got specific scripts or fantasies that play out in his mind. Not right now, anyway.]
No rituals. Promise. Now bend over. [He gives Peter a shove against his chest with his free hand, a wicked grin greeting that face as the couch rushes up to cushion that butt that looks like it fills out every centimetre of those skin-tight trousers. Nothing says thanks like a stiff one up the arse, right? John pops the lid open and tugs at Peter's hip to get him on all fours.]
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Bossy. [ The guardian quips, a glint in his eyes when he spots Constantine's grin, moving as ordered. ] Do it more.
[ Peter gets a lot of shit from Rocket about his body but he's got some pretty strong thighs form all the running he does in a regular bases and shoulders to match. He can hear Constantine crack the lube open behind him, and he spread his legs a little further. He rolls his hips, body pressing against John's hand. ]
Nice tattoos. [ He says casually, looking over his shoulder and staring into brown eyes before arching his back. ] Now stop fucking around. The quicker we do this the sooner we get to the really fun part. I want your cock in me.
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Appreciate you're randy love but if you want to walk tomorrow you'll be a bit less of an eager cunt. [John bites down on his bottom lip as he pushes the lube into Peter's tight little fuckhole and eases just one finger in at first, progressing quickly to two when he relaxes and loosens up. Anyone would be horny watching that asshole tighten around his fingers, but John can't resist fingerfucking him for a while until his own cock is twitching in anticipation.
It probably feels oddly hollow for a moment while John lubes himself up. He leaves a wet spot on Peter's hip as he lines them up and rubs the length of his cock between those buttcheeks, shuddering and sighing at the sensation up and down the length of the shaft.
He's wasting perfectly good lube, he knows, getting it everywhere, but he doesn't want to hear any complaints when he finally pushes just the head in between Peter's legs, easing in excruciatingly slow.]
Oh, fuck. I'm gon' tattoo fucking slut on your forehead. Fuck.
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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 Constantine’s 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.
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He holds those asscheeks apart with his thumbs as he slides in, deep, forgoing the slow and making Peter feel every inch moving inside him for something more on the quick and dirty side. He's been hard and aching for a while and there's a bit of selfish relief-seeking alongside his usual considerations for making the other party feel good enough to keep coming back for more.
His lubed hand doesn't stay on Peter's curves for long, sliding around his hip to smear some residual lube on his cock that's so far been dangling neglected between his legs. John doesn't really set a particular rhythm, opting instead to fuck Peter in shallow and fast thrusts while his fist pumps Peter's hard cock until it's leaking at the head.]
Head down, arse up love. [It's not a request. His free hand slides up from Peter's hip to give his back a firm press downwards before blunt nails rake down to his tailbone. It makes it easier to hit his sweet spot like this, get him to scream.]
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Fuck. [ The slight sting of pain at the beginning sends an electric sensation running from scalp to cock, and he fails to swallow back a groan. Peter hisses and then moans, lips falling open when John slides a slick hand down his shaft and starts jerking him. It's a headlong rush of cock-throbbing pleasure that combined with the sharp, blunt thrusts against his ass makes Peter keen.
The muscles in his thighs quiver with the effort to remain upright and it almost comes as a relief when Constantine pushes him down. Peter asked him to be bossier so he has no complaints when it happens. The bluntness and the fingers digging into his skin along with the pressure of a thick cock dragging against his sensitive walls are enough to get him to moan like a two-bit whore. His only regret is that he can't as active as he usually or even try to follow John's rhythm.
He pushes against John’s fingers and back to meet the cock buried into him as much as he can, rolling his hips, but mostly leave the occultist to set the pace. Peter's gone pliant and wordless, lost in their wet point of contact. The obscene wet noises are only drowned by the sounds dropping from Peter's slack mouth and both are increasing in rhythm as John starts fucking him hard and fast, rubbing at his prostate with perfect aim. Constantine seems to be enjoying this as much as he is, which is saying something because Peter’s pretty sure he’s going to orgasm himself into a coma. ]
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He'll know that John is close the more uncoordinated and out of sync his hand is with his hips. He didn't seem to mind varying things up a bit at first, slow strokes at the base and fast tugs near the head, but he can't fuck as hard as he wants to if he's focusing on doing that. Gradually his hand stills and Peter unfortunately has to do a bit more work to get himself off while John rams him hard from behind, seeking out that sweet spot that has Peter clamping down hard around him over and over and over again.]
I'm gonna cum. [A little hoarse, a little difficult to make out amidst the horny noises Peter is making on top of the couch scratching against the floorboards, but those words were definitely uttered as John unintentionally tightens his grip around Peter's cock.]
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His right hands sneak between his legs to cover John's own and finish what the man started. While he doesn't hear Constantine's warning properly, there's enough tell tall signs int eh change of rhythm and their urgency to make it clear enough. He's close as well, the muscles of his back and abs tensing up with every thrust. His free hand reaches back, grabbing onto Constantine's thigh, nails digging into the skin as a litany of yes, yes, yes falls from his lips.
A breathless groan escapes him when Constantine picks up the rhythm and jerks him, and Peter comes with a shout, so hard that white flashes behind his eyes. His body clamps down, ass clutching at the man's cock as he shakes through the waves of sensation. He does collapse forward then, the leather of the coach feels blessedly cold against his cheekbone. Peter's left panting while John's fucking into him, aftershocks rippling through his body and endorphins drowning his brain, only vaguely aware of the passing of time. ]
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You alright love? [John pets Peter on the ass a few times, laughing as he plops down unceremoniously on an unoccupied sliver of couch. He's a little tired now, but a good kind of tired. And while he's not in a hurry to throw Quill down for round two or anything, he wouldn't mind hitting the bed and indulging in a bit of light touching and comforting for a while.]
Come on, you'll be more comfortable upstairs. [And by 'you' he obviously means 'we'.]
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Peter hums as an answer, letting Constantine pet him before he moves, pliant and relaxed. He runs a hand through his hair to try and fix the mess. If anything, Peter only makes it worse. ]
I'm wonderful. Feel free to call me more often, magic involved or not.
[ This is the sort of worn out Peter enjoys more and he's got plans for the rest of the night if John doesn't want him gone already. It doesn't seem to be the case and Peter gives him a smile before his hand sneaks behind John's neck and he pulls him into a kiss before they have to get moving. ]
Sound good, handsome. Lead the way.
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When he eventually reluctantly pulls back from the kiss, he grabs the brunette by the wrist and tries to help him up, chuckling as their bodies press together again once they're both upright. He nibbles along that stubbled jaw and presses a kiss to the corner of those irresistible lips before he tugs him along to climb up the stairs.
He almost trips over a step in his hurry to get upstairs, catching himself with a hand on the floor and laughing. Yeah, he might not be able to get it up yet, but that just means they'll have more time to make out on the bed while they recover.]
Come 'ere, you. [That bed that John is shoving Peter onto is going to see a lot of action tonight.]
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He is also leaning against John with a smile and a grateful look. Walking is a bit tricky but he will get eh hang of it in a minute. The nibbling ears John a low, pleased hum and Peter murmuring praises under his breath. As they get into the room, his hands are wandering a little because he enjoys touching his partners and it's not every day that he falls into bed with a handsome British with a silver tongue. Seriously, that accent might be one of Peter's favorite things in the world. One day he needs to coach Constantine into singing something.
He chuckles when they trip and helps John up, or maybe John is helping him, it's hard to tell. They make it to the bed eventually, or rather, Constantine pushes him into it and Peter reaches out to grab the man's arm and pulls him all over him. ]
I think I like it better without appetizers on the way. The Guardian says cheekily but his voice is low and throaty and his eyes darken.
[ It feels only natural to loop his arms around John’s neck and pull him in for another kiss. There isn't as much urgency as before but no less interest either and Peter hums into the taste of their tongues together, hot and slick when he opens his mouth wider. By the time they break apart to breathe Peter's knees are nudging either side of John's thighs and his hands slide up his shoulder, nails digging a little. ]
So...is there anything you'd like to try properly now that we're not in a rush? I take request.