shadowglitter | PSL || peter/odin

[ He grins, when Peter pulls away from his stupid affectionate eyelid kisses, goofy and wide and stupid as ever. It fades with the question he asks, fades with the twitch of his abs and the excitement in his stomach when every roll of Peter's hips drags his cock over Odin's skin, and by the time Peter finds his voice, Odin's biting his own bottom lip with his eyes shut tight as he struggles to keep himself steady.

He's heard it a thousand times, but it-- now, it fills him with something. Four words ease all his fucking loneliness, chases away so many fucking shadows. He shifts and he stays quiet, the oppressive but so, so safe weight of him pressing down on Peter as his arms grip his back just a little tighter. He says nothing, not wanting to chase away that memory of I love you, man with his own voice, but the start of a moan catches at the back of his throat and he can feel electricity shoot all the way down to his toes.

He sucks in air through his teeth when Peter bites at him and he fucks forward, his brain thick and foggy from the heat of this. He finds a rhythm that's better for both of them - not slow, but not fast, something stable he can keep constant with each arch of his back and measured slam of his hips. His fingertips are starting to tremble against Peter's skin and he's still silent when he leaves a kiss on Peter's shoulder, but it's still ringing in his head. Peter loves him.

Odin's sense of time feels blurred, but only a few minutes of gentle, easy fucking pass by before he starts to pick up the pace. When he reaches the hilt of himself in Peter he pushes forward, sinking them both into the mattress, and when he pulls back, it's with a groan of effort and lust he doesn't even notice he's making. There are noises in the air - flesh on flesh, obscene things - and he twists his neck to find Peter's and gently sucks on sensitive skin, leaving a mark, something people will see come morning. ]

Fuck--

[ He lowers his head and rests on Peter's shoulder, and when he speaks again, there's far more certainty and volume in his voice than there was in his best friend's. ]

I fucking-- love you. You. I love you.

[Peter feels like he's still floating but just on the cusp of drowning. He can't concentrate for more than a few seconds before he's jarred back against the bed by one of Odin's thrusts, making the bed frame rock and causing his nails to dig into Odin's back. He doesn't know what noises he's making but he's not making an effort to keep them quiet anymore, a near suffocating flood of pleasure building up in him the longer their bodies work together.

There's that moment of relative silence punctuated by groans and lewd noises as Odin picks up the pace and Peter feels like his heart's in his throat. He hears what Odin's saying to him and it feels like a lot, like too much, and it sits in his mind as something he'll digest later. It feels too real over the ache in him that missed that, that wanted to fill a void that's been hurting ever since Jean left. He wanted someone to say that to him but now that he hears the words, his mind clouds up and his breath becomes shallow.

Neck tilted to the side, skin taut under Odin's lips, Peter feels close but not in a way he's been before. He grips at Odin tighter, panting beneath him and writhing - shit, shit, shit.] I...

[ Every noise Peter makes goes off in Odin like a gun. More and more, it's pulled to the forefront of his mind that this is Peter, and this is different. Things with Poe were never so-- he never clawed at Poe like this, desperate to hold on, unconsciously terrified that if he stops holding him they'll fall back to the earth where everything is shitty. Never told Poe he loved him like that, either.

The nails on his back are going to leave a mark, and the thought would make Odin even fucking harder, if he could be. He presses deep into Peter and holds, grunting between the slow and easy kiss that drags away from his shoulder and up to his throat, teeth grazing skin as he clumsily draws his tongue against him. He picks up speed, straining his torso upwards to meet Peter's eyes when he hears him start to speak, and he nods, red and sweat-sheened.

His voice is ragged and tired and strained but it's deep and it's safe. He wants to see Peter's face when he comes, wants to hear how he sounds, and there's too much intensity in his eyes as he watches him. ]

It's okay, man. I've got you.

[It builds and it builds and it builds, up until Peter thinks it's going to be too much to handle - and then it just happens. He comes with a loud gasping noise, a frantic jerking of his body from the stimulus that makes him come harder than he thinks he ever has before. It's intense and it lingers, ebbing out from his core in waves that his body still moves to.

His whimpered groan lingers too, fingers slipping and scraping for a hold of Odin's shoulders as he blinks up at him after briefly scrunching his eyes closed when he came. He's not even aware of the splatter of cum on his chest, just the thudding in his ears and the intensity still in him that pulls Odin in for a kiss. It's sloppy as far as kisses go because Peter's literally half-minded in it, blissful and air headed from his orgasm but the affection still seeps into it despite that.]

God damn. [A breathy laugh.]

[ Odin's fucked enough guys to know exactly what he's doing to Peter - he drags that build up out, dropping his pace to something lingering and steady and rhythmic, focusing on hitting Peter's prostate and doing everything he can to just let that ache boil at the base of Peter's balls until it's forced out of him in one quick thrust. He can feel the tension in Peter's body and the way he shakes both inside and out, and when he comes in turn, he's trying hard not to just hold Peter in place and claim him.

He pulls out, with tremendous difficulty, thinking he should find a towel or something-- Peter's never been with a dude, he's not gonna go all the fuck out on the poor guy-- but it hits him too hard and too fast, his limit reached by the way Peter's suddenly kissing him, and he jerks himself off through his climax, marking Peter's ass and the inside of his thighs before he can help it. He groans when he's done and chases the kiss when Peter pulls back, wanting more than Peter gives him.

He's steadily softening, forehead pressed against Peter's, when that breathy laugh makes his cock twitch once with need. Fuck. ]

That-- yeah. That was-- yeah.

[ He pulls back, gently untangling limbs and helping Peter lay on his back more comfortably, and he thuds down next to him, face in his pillow, blind to the room. He surrenders himself to the darkness without screaming about eldritch horrors along the way, and arches up with a great effort to look at his best friend. ]

I think... I needed that.

[Peter lolls his head back against the bed, still shifting gently as his body tenses and untenses in the wake of his orgasm and Odin lingers close. It makes this moment feel warm as he settles and looks to Odin next to him after a beat. He can start to feel a bit of soreness in him when he shifts, but it's not unbearable - at least not while he's still soaring on this high.

He sees his best friend next to him and it makes all of this a bit more grounded in reality, picking out the details of the situation that stick out. Odin's next to him, meeting his gaze. There's cum still on his skin and he's not even sure what step you're supposed to take about that. He just fucked his best friend? He feels a bit guilty all of a sudden, fearing that they just fucked up what they had for a drunken fuck and maybe they can just pretend tomorrow that this didn't happen.

He feels panic in his breastbone but sucks in a breath and stares at Odin for a moment, swallowing hard before just reaching for his hand. He laces their fingers together and there's a half beat where it's tender and sweet and then he just squeezes tightly, because he might not know what he wants to do about this tomorrow but.]

You're a messy fucking fuck, y'know that? [He smiles, half - laughing before looking up at the ceiling.]

I think I need a fucking shower now, that's what I need. Thanks, jackass.

[ Odin laughs, fully and completely, wetting his lips and pressing them together just to buy time before he has to talk. He can't tear his eyes away from Peter's, watching with a fondness that's always been there, but it's - different, now. He's not going to forget about this tomorrow, even if he should. Things might not go well for them, from here on out. The glass barrier that had been firmly established between their relationship is already starting to splinter, because this-- might not be enough, anymore. What they were. Not for Odin. ]

Sorry.

[ Peter squeezes his hand hard, and Odin squeezes back, but it's softer, still lingering in that brief moment of tenderness that mattered more than it should. He circles his thumb over one of Peter's knuckles and just feels his hand in his own, as if they hadn't done this a thousand times before - but despite that, he's the one to break contact. He sits up and threads his fingers through the spikes of his hair, wipes a line of sweat from his neck and breathes out like he just finished watching a marathon. He doesn't hide the way he stares, when he looks down at Peter, ruined because of him. He doesn't hide the way he likes it, either. ]

You gonna make this gay by asking me to shower with you? 'Cause, I mean. That'd be pretty gay.

Hah, yeah... that'd be pretty gay. [Peter says with a laugh that trails off, because it's kind of hard to face facts here. When Odin lets go of his hand, Peter draws it back and slowly pushes to sit up with a wince as he settles and becomes a bit more aware of just how naked he is. How they both are. It's not intentional how Peter hunches forward a bit, his more lithe frame curling in at the shoulders as he looks down at himself and doesn't even know how to start with cleaning up.

He is not wiping anything off on his sweater, though the thought does strike him. He needs something to wear, either now or tomorrow... the thought of lingering here overnight puts him on the fence. His instincts say bail now but sitting up's reminded him that he's not quite sober, a little hung over and sore from the inside out.]

I uh, I'm pretty fucking serious about the shower though? Is that cool? [You know, if he goes and does that... right now? So he can have a few moments to himself to sort out what just happened and... maybe you can change your bedding a little?]

[ Joke didn't work? Joke didn't work. Odin leans back on his hands and stretches his legs out over the mattress, relaxed and opened and comfortable. It's kind of weird for Peter to just ask him if something like this is cool when he would normally just fuck off and go take care of things, so Odin's nod comes slow and a little hesitant. ]

Yeah, of course.

[ He moves to let him go, a few more awkward and seemingly tension-riddled words slipping between the both of them as Peter stumbles off to the bathroom and Odin tries not to watch, and when he cleans himself down, stacks up his sheets in the corner and finds some pants to slip back into, it all comes fairly easily just so he has something easy and simple to do with his hands.

He'll be back in bed when Peter comes back, reclining on fresh pillows and taking a long breath. He's not sure what to ask, or how to start things-- he figures calling Magnus to come and get him, but that seems like a nightmare scenario waiting to happen, and he doesn't have it in him to start fielding questions. ]

[Peter bites his lip as he grabs his boxers before they slip off the edge of the bed, taking them with him to the bathroom - slowly. Being upright reminds him just how much he drank today and how it's still in his blood. Add a bit of a strained feeling in his guts and y'know, it's surprising how he manages to walk without too distinctly different of a gait.

He takes a hot shower and it's not the longest shower in the world but it's a long enough period of time for him to clean up but more importantly... think. He stares at the tiles of the bath glassy eyed for a few beats as he goes through the ways this situation could go rapid fire in his head. There are a couple of conclusions he draws up by the time he's out of the tub, stepping closer to the mirror to catch a glimpse of himself before gingerly stepping into his boxers and toweling his hair dry as he returns to the bedroom.

Looking at Odin, one eye hidden behind a fold of towel, Peter's quiet for a second. Then, just:] Sorry. That - uh, was a first? I got kinda wigged out by...

[He frowns, looks away. He takes the towel off his head and whips it at Odin before following its trajectory toward the bed.] That was a lot of cum, okay? On me.

PSL || peter/odin

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