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[shadowglitter]

INBOX text / audio / video / action I only drink Chocolate Milk. THE DARKEST OF MILKS! art credit code credit

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[quickfingers]

Hell yeah I like you so much. I don't know where I'd be either and - ah, shit, Odin. I swear to God, if you so much as pull that, we're not having dinner. You'll give me a boner and by the time we're done fucking, it's all going to get cold. So do- don't.

[He doesn't sound convincing, but he does studiously follow the way Odin's holding on to his tie and tethering him close. One lift of his head and there'd be tension on it, a thought that's already making his gut clench up. Too many memories of the island and being lead around by a tie, the only other tie he's worn, makes for a horny Peter Maximoff.

But he grins, wide and bright, reaching up with one hand to skim his fingertips over Odin's knuckles and caress the hand holding said tie with a tender touch. He follows it up his wrist and leans a bit further over the backing of the couch, dipping to kiss his boyfriend on the lips. Slow, lingering and dripping water down the bridge of his nose from unruly silver hair that's begun to stick up.]

May I join you, sir. Dining for two?

[shadowglitter]

[ Fuck, he's laughing again. Peter's so good at making him laugh. He's tempted, but he doesn't pull Peter's tie, because he really wants that dinner - but as Peter dips him down for a kiss, he keeps his fingers curled tight around the fabric, keeping him tethered close so the kiss might last a while longer. He shuts his eyes and feels the tension leave his body the second Peter's lips meet his, and Odin sighs softly through his nose, the taste of clean water and soft skin and orange faygo mixing together. They separate, and Odin's feeling a little too starry to say too much. ]

'Kay.

[ He's basically laying down against the couch's back by now, keeping Peter bent down over him. They're - dining for two, he needs to remember that, but he pulls the end of Peter's tie taut, idly sinking his teeth into the fabric. He holds eye contact, leaving just enough of an indentation, and when he lets go, his eyes rake back over Peter's neck. Remembering that first week.

He lets go, in the end. He moves to sit up on his knees and turns around, resting his hands on the back of the couch and darting up to take another quick kiss from Peter's nose, then drums another hard rhythm against the upholstery and leans back. ]

You know you're gonna get grease stains all over that, right? I mean, I don't care, 'cause it could be in tatters and I'd still think you looked beautiful. I'm just saying. Gonna be marring the woven vestments of our love with the broth within which dead chicken bathed.

[quickfingers]

I am capable of eating without getting grease all over me.

[He defends himself with a look about being so falsely accused, smiling when Odin finally lets go of his tie. He's already a little aroused, making him a little more pink in the face, but he's powering through it. He looks down at the suit he's in, uncomfortable as it happens to be, and just tugs the lapel to arrange it. Smooths down the front of his shirt.

It's stupidly overdressed but it's something he knows Odin would appreciate. And somehow it fits in contrast to what Odin's wearing, the two of them looking way too good for two idiots in an apartment in the middle of a flooded city. But the candles are lit and it feels - romantic, so he combs his hand through Odin's hair and leans to kiss him again. Smack dab on the forehead.]

Plus there's this little known art of stripping? I can always get naked. So let's eat? And... chill. It's still cold and disgusting as fuck outside.