PSL || peter/odin

[shadowglitter]

JUST... JUST,, JUST TWO BROS -- JUST TWO, TWO BROS, BEING, BEING STRAIGHT

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[shadowglitter]

[ There's a part of him that's unsatisfied, however briefly, by this itchy feeling in his stomach that feels as if Peter's ignoring him. This is always a problem he has, though - everyone's happy, everyone's getting along, things are going great, and then he fixates on something small and blows it up in his head with anxiety until he ruins everything. It would be so, so easy to put a hand on Peter's chest to stop him so they could just-- argue about how he's handsome, until Odin almost bullies him into admitting it--

But that side of him, all that self-destructive anxiety, goes silent when Peter promises to ruin him.

The acid that had been tearing away at this gives way and he starts to warm, swallowing hard as Peter touches him. The tug at his neck has him hissing in air through his teeth and letting out a low, breathless laugh, because fuck, he liked that. He lets Peter kiss at his neck until there's enough electricity in his hands that he just has to fucking move, and he lets them rest on Peter's sides, just by his ribs. His bruises are sensitive enough to sting, but it turns out he likes that, too.

He lowers his eyes, half-lidded and heavy, and brings his lips to Peter's. It's clumsy and awkward because now that they're doing this, all the pent up aggression and competitiveness that comes from Peter teasing him - everything inside of him that wants to win, wants to be better, wants to make Peter writhe like that - all rolls out of him at once. He leans Peter down against the mattress until he's on his back and stays over him, tugging at his bottom lip and slipping his tongue between them. Tasting oreos. ]

Think you've got it in you to come again? [ It's whispered against Peter's lips between sudden quick and powerful kisses, words all said with a lilt in his voice. ] 'Cause, I mean - I can. I dunno if you can.

[quickfingers]

[Peter's definitely expanded the radius of red and bruised skin on Odin's neck, teeth biting at it before their lips are on one another's again and he pours forth his attention into that. He's more laid back right now than Odin, whose cock is like a third party in this conversation with how prominent it is. His palm seeks it out, slinking its way down his stomach again once he's over top of him.

He didn't think he'd like this, he's definitely not used to it, having a figure looming over him. But it's hot when it's Odin, someone he trusts even when his heart skips the occasional beat. They're tethered together by a kiss he's attentive to, lips parted and an eagerness to the way his tongue darts out in the midst of it.

His nails drag down the side of Odin's neck as his fingers curl over the bulge of his cock.] Guess you're gonna have to try me then, aren't you?

[If there's one thing Peter hates it's the common association that a quick and speedy guy's gonna blow fast. They never think about the stamina aspect, the recovery aspect, and how he can go blow for blow here. Even with a nervous twinge accompanying messing around, his dick's doing its best to try and navigate how it feels and is already back on track towards going up. Not as eager as Odin's but you know, whose dick really is?]

[shadowglitter]

[ It would probably be a pretty fucking huge lie if Odin suggested for even a moment that he wasn't going to totally jerk off up against the mirror the second he sees what Peter's done to him. The spread of his hickeys, the marks on his skin - ownership. Belonging.

Poor Magnus. He's not going to know where to look when his brothers show up at Fauxhalla pink and bruised from the neck down, almost wine-stained in colour.

But back home, Odin is one of those quick and speedy guys, so said common association isn't really a part of this for him. He just wants to set some kind of challenge, and when Peter takes the bait and taunts him right back Odin feels a surge of something crash through him. Affection laced with lust. Admiration for Peter. Fondness.

He doesn't moan when Peter touches him, because that might give away how much he wants this. He's here to make Peter make those noises - to writhe and to squirm and to fall to pieces in Odin's hands. ... unfortunately, he can't help the involuntary shiver that shoots through his spine as Peter's nails scratch over him or as his hand hits his cock. Odin takes a deep breath and kisses Peter a little harder, only pulling back when his chest is aching and he wants more from this.

Odin lowers his voice, keeping steady, keeping focused. ]

I'm gonna suck your cock. [ He gently punches Peter on the shoulder, slightly red, still daring. ] You want me to do that?

[quickfingers]

["Make me" is going to be the tagline to their relationship, something centered around butting heads and top tier emotional hand holding. Peter feels that same push in his chest to fight back against this, breathing hard when their lips part and having alert eyes meet Odin's gaze sharply. Fuck if saying that doesn't jolt him, cock stiffer as he shifts beneath Odin - yeah, yeah,] - yeah.

[His palm presses more solidly against Odin's cock, rubbing against it because while he's not going to decline this - he still wants to do something for Odin. Even if he's not sure what that is, since he's not sure he's up for foolishly pawing his way through another blowjob himself. But if Odin wants to blow him, okay, he can stumble through that instead.

Because at least he has some - experience with that? He doesn't feel so nervous, instead the void is just full of anticipation and a clenching in his gut.] I want that.