[ 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?
["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.
no subject
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?
no subject
[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.