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[shadowglitter]

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[quickfingers]

[Peter's fingertips graze along Odin's forearm as he pulls away, feeling a lot of the same magnetism that he hates to fight - but feels momentarily relieved by the space. It lets a coolness come over him, sorely needed, and he steps back toward the chaise he left his jacket on while watching Odin flop down on the bed. He loosens his tie, watching him as he slips it off and glances to the ensuite.

He's never used it before, they've always gotten changed in front of one another. Peter has never had a qualm about ripping his shirt off during the night, sweaty from being entangled in Odin's limbs and dragged back against him any time he rolled too far away. He always felt comfortable before, because they were bros. But now he's untucking his shirt and working on the buttons and feeling... peculiar.

Overthinking it. He knows he is, but to think that - someone's paying attention to him now. And - Odin was before? It makes him a bit self conscious because he knows he's not exactly amazing to look at. Average to the core, if that, and Odin's... not. He's still pleased to know that he's not exactly revolting, somehow suckering Odin into finding him attractive, but this moment just sticks out to him. Maybe because Odin gave him an out for modesty's sake.]

Fuck you. [He retorts to start, rummaging around for something to change into after letting his shirt fall open. A shirt alone is enough and he looks over his options before shrugging off his own and laying it over the other suit pieces. There's just a moment of hesitance before he works off his belt, kicking his shoes aside and throwing his pants onto the pile. He - finds there to be a lot of shit he is not gonna borrow, pulling the least offensive item out he can find - which happens to be a paint splattered t-shirt.

He hooks his arms into it, trekking over to the bed to give Odin's leg a kick as he threads it overhead. And then he collapses next to him on the bed in it and his boxers, feeling a lot better - lighter, and not just because of the clothing change.] Fast enough for ya?

I swear to God though, there's some sort of spring that keeps stabbing me in the ass on this bed. [He flops around like a fish to get comfortable.]

[shadowglitter]

[ It wasn't too strange a thing to assume, was it? They've always been okay with skin to skin contact, with stupid clumsy jokes about seeing each other's dicks passed between them like fucking oreos, but they're more than that, now. He didn't think... fuck. Odin just thought they had to be a little more careful as time went on, given what they are now. What they are. Shit. It still doesn't feel real.

Peter starts untucking his shirt and Odin says nothing, but there's proof here that any self-consciousness he might feel extends beyond just overthinking things. Odin doesn't comment, but he watches, peering out from over his forearm as Peter gets changed. The tips of his ears go red and he tries his hardest to keep his eyes above the belt, to flick away every so often when he thinks Peter's catching him staring, but there's a warmth that eclipses his baser, physical reaction to this - they're still comfortable just as they are. Good. That's good to know.

When Peter kicks at his leg he grunts and hides his face in the sheets, bouncing a little when his motherfuckin' boyfriend fish-flops around as hard as he does. Again, it takes a moment for him to say anything, just turning his head to the side and resting his ear to his arm so he can look at Peter a little sideways, and he wonders if it would be too forward to say half the things he's thinking. ]

I had all this stuff from my mom on me when I ported in? It's all in a box under the mattress, 'cause I don't like being away from any of it. It's probably that.

[ Or it's just a spring, like Peter said. It's not like Odin hasn't pissed off enough of the production crew for them to purposefully get him a shitty bed. He shifts to sit upright and draws his knees up, resting his chin on it and hugging his legs to his chest. His ears are still red, which he's trying to will away, but it's tough. ]

And-- and like. Just to be clear. [ he clears his throat. ] You're staying the night up here, yeah? Just-- like, to sleep, obviously.

[quickfingers]

[Peter stretches out on his side, pulling a pillow close and scrunching it up under one arm to rest his chin on. It's weird for a beat, and not because of playing princess and the dead mom's belongings on this mattress but - because there's a renewed flicker of something to the air. Something he feels like a thump in his chest, a static feeling in him from maybe knowing Odin was glancing at him, maybe knowing he didn't mind it. Something that makes him want to smile a bit, since it's a pretty half-decent feeling. Warm, comfortable. Nice.]

Yeah, unless you wanna throw me out. [He quirks a brow before thoughtfully jabbing Odin in the side with a fingertip.]

And we don't have to like, just sleep. [He adds on after a pause, clearing his throat because yeah - again, things are coming out of his mouth more sexual than he intends and half his brain doesn't mind while the other half is desperately slamming the brakes. That flutter blossoms in his chest a little more, and he just reaches to pull Odin's arm away from his knee to get at his hand.

Let him hold that for you.] Y'know, if you wanted - to just... lightly fool around or something? I don't know.

[shadowglitter]

[ Odin feels the flutter of something close to panic when Peter jokes about being thrown out - he's ready to overreact and argue that that's the last thing he wants when there's a light jab to the side that leaves him wheezing. Geh. He rubs at his ribs, though his hand comes to a slow, gradual stop the more Peter talks, and by the end of it all he hesitates, red again, covering his mouth with his palm. ]

You're killing me, man. [ It's muffled, the steady groan of a man being pretty easily affected by the accidental come ons of the dude he's dating, but it's there, even as he brushes his fingertips over Peter's hand. He rubs at his nose and drops his arm back to his side as he cautiously locks their fingers together, and he laughs, stupidly. Just happy to have this moment. ]

I, uh. [ He lays down flat and scoots closer to Peter - it's clumsy and takes a little time, because he refuses to seperate their hands until they're both comfortable, but soon he's laying down on his side again, close enough to feel bodyheat. ] I-- so, like. I wanna kiss you again. A lot. All the time. All night. Is that okay? If we just... [ he shrugs, dragging Peter's arm up a little when he does it. ] It's not that I don't want to do anything more than-- that, it's just. Early? And. I want to spend all night doing-- dumb. Romantic. Things. Telling you I like you and being really stupidly in puppy love or whatever.

Odin Dark's cascading emotions are, outwardly, seemingly a rush of conflicting struggles against his inner darkness and ever-present turmoil, but he actually just has a huge crush on this dumb asshole named Peter and wants to die over how he's his now or whatever. So.

[quickfingers]

[Peter shifts accordingly, holding on to Odin's hand with a little squeeze if and when it seems like they might have to let go until they're settled. And then they're close enough he feels so aware of his own breath, heart crawling up his throat until he swallows it back down and flicks his eyes over Odin's lips and jaw and - appreciates him for a moment.

Peter tugs at their linked hands, pulling Odin's over to his side and positioning against his hip. He then he slips his fingers away, smoothing them up Odin's arm and affectionately hooks them behind his elbow to anchor him close. It helps for when he shifts forward to kiss Odin, light and quick - testing the feel of a chaste kiss, weighing it against the more heated and needy ones.]

Just kissing is cool. For a little while or all night, whatever you're feeling? I just... I wanna just do whatever. This is good. I like this.