[Any fall would have a speedy recovery. Frank's not about to have the guy come to any harm especially when they're in such a compromising position. He lifts his head, mistaking the pause a moment for a mistake.
Oh. That. He clears his throat and chuckles. Damn if there isn't a little color on his face at that. Never one to be very bashful or anything it's nice to feel adored, to feel actually wanted right back.]
Ladies liked me back home but... I'm not looking for a lady.
[Which makes him want to hit home the point of difference, rolling his hips.]
[ He ducks his head again, his shyness cropping up as he shrugs, shaking his head, ]
I'm not really good at talking to people. Girls, guys, I never really know what to say. Things either come out wrong or I get stuck. My friends, they--a lot of them started talking to me first and I got more comfortable with them. Now, they'd probably say I never shut up.
[ Peter reaches up a hand to brush gentle fingers along Frank's cheek. Then gentle traces along the man's nose, forehead, and lips. When Peter feels courageous enough, daring enough, he leans in and his lips replace his fingers. Soft kisses all over Frank's face as his hand moves down to tug at the buttons of the other man's shirt. ]
[Dark, rich brow eyes lightly close as he just soaks it all in. Peter has a handsome face. Anyone who disagrees can go right straight to hell. He smooths down the other man's back, broader than a woman. Strong and solid.]
...I like the sound of that.
[Leaning again to turn his face into those kisses and shifting every so gently to start up a grinding motion, not all that sure of what to do, but knowing full well that it is going to feel great.]
[More kisses to fall into. Getting deeper and more heady. Frank finds himself even more willing to let himself relax, let his lips part and use more tongue. It's a breathtaking result for the both of them. The push makes him lean back, further, further still. He has to use his elbows to stay just propped up enough.]
Yeah...
[His voice is already low but growing dark like coffee. The point of contact at their hips, groin to groin is even more intense then before. No clothes would be great. His scoots back further and reaches to pull Peter with him.]
[ There's almost a moment of awe in Peter, where he can't believe he's having this effect on another person let alone a man like Frank. But he doesn't let himself focus on it for too long. There are better things to do.
Like lay down on top of the other man, now straddling Frank and his hips rock forward as he kisses him. He just allows his body to do what it does naturally. Gives into the urge and doesn't regret it. ]
[This effect and then some. Jesus. Frank wants to close his eyes and savor but doesn't want to take the chance in case it's a trick or a dream.]
Oh my God.
[The pressure and heat through layers of clothing still perfectly project that both of them are erect. His hands push up under Peter's shirt this time from the sides, feeling skin and muscle. They're steadily looking unkempt and haggard. Good.]
Let's....lets get that off of you.
[Or at least pry the buttons open. Frank's not sure how his hands are steady. They are and he's grateful. The whole time he rocks and hips right back up with Peter. The give and take is letting them fall into a rhythm.]
[ Peter finally allows himself to moan. Softly, closing his eyes as his hands feel at Frank's chest through his shirt. He wants to feel more skin. So much more.
He opens his eyes and tries to do the same with unbuttoning it, trying to split his attention between rutting himself against the other man and trying to get him undressed. He breathes out a laugh eventually, ]
[The sound makes him shiver and the sight? They're both flustered and it casts a color on Peter's face. They both want more. So much more. Hands catch and press. Frank laughs and shakes his head. At least he was successful in getting most of that shirt undone.]
Sorry. Sorry... just can't help it.
[Everything in him is begging to move, to touch to look. He huffs and reaches up to touch Peter's face, his cheek and the other to smooth back his hair and kiss his face. It lets him stay just still long enough so that they're now chest to chest. That's progress!]
[ But then there's another kiss and Peter practically melts into it, making another soft noise at that. He gets Frank's shirt undone just to make a frustrated sort of whimper at the undershirt the man has on. He tugs at it impatiently. ]
[One laugh bubbles into another this time from Frank. He hasn't made an active decision to stop kissing and it's a strange and beautiful fizzy feeling. They're still moving, rustling, gradually getting undressed.]
Okay. Just a moment.
[Because it won't come off so easy. The thin shirts need something else. Can't go around with skin exposed. What would people think? Though right now all he cares about is what Peter thinks as the ribbed undershirt lifts higher and higher to show what manual labor does to an Italian like Frank Castle.]
[ As much as Peter loves the kisses - and he does, he feels like he could be content to kiss Frank like this forever - he wants to touch more of the man. Feel the warmth of his skin on his hands. And eventually, press his own skin against his. Guess that's what people mean about "when the blood starts pumping".
He leans back just enough to let Frank pull the shirt off and stares what is revealed. It was almost like he was a sculpture. Peter can't remember seeing other men like this before (but then he's made it a point not to look). His hands touch Frank's chest, fingers trail down to his stomach and over more muscle.
[To think he was already heavy breathing. Now they're chest to chest for all points and purposes and soon there will be nothing between them. Christ is it warm in here or what? The shirt gets tossed off somewhere and his hands go to fiddle with the waistband of Peter's pants when his eyes lift up to his face. That wide eyed, beautiful awe that got him from the get go is there again. Another shiver breaks down his spine.]
...I like what I see too.
[Because that's about the only way he can interpret that.]
Show me more of you, Bright Eyes.
[There's delicious screwn and wiry muscle under his hands.]
[ The words are just the kind of encouragement that he needs to give a nod and gets back off the bed. Just for the moment. He finishes undoing his pants and shoves both them and his underwear down. He steps out of them, leaving them on the floor. He moves back over to Frank and this time, completely naked, climbs onto the other man, straddling his lap.
He leans down to claim his lips for his own, hands smoothing down his chest again.
He's not nearly as muscled as Frank but he has a wiry build, his cock growing harder when he rubs himself against Frank's lap. ]
[He's beautiful. That's what he is. And Frank enthusiastically rubs up into that fully hard cock. His hands keep moving. More skin to touch than ever before!]
Wait. Wait. Might as well be fair.
[A fist full of Peter's ass and the other shimmies down his own trousers. Their kiss is no longer prim, soft and considerate. It's heated and demanding on both sides. Tongue slides against tongue. A deep, resonating grumble. Cock to cock.]
[ The fact all his touching is returned and then some, it only makes Peter cast off what reserves he still holds onto. He lacks experience but not passion. As Frank will find out when the kiss is returned with just as much demand, a hand sliding up into Frank's hair, gripping it as hips push into the hand and then rub himself against the other man's cock. There's something that seems to light him on fire, the whole experience liberating in ways he's never known.
Between kisses, hot breath against lips, ]
You're so amazing. Holt shit.
[ Peter is still having a hard time believing he lucked out this much. ]
[It's a simple, breathless exclamation and far more urging clutch at Peter's hips. The motion is usually what is done with the dames but this feels infinitely better.]
Fuck, you're beautiful. Keep doing that.
[The gliding motion cock to cock. It's perfect. So right.]
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Oh. That. He clears his throat and chuckles. Damn if there isn't a little color on his face at that. Never one to be very bashful or anything it's nice to feel adored, to feel actually wanted right back.]
Ladies liked me back home but... I'm not looking for a lady.
[Which makes him want to hit home the point of difference, rolling his hips.]
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But... the guys? They... none of them?
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[Meaning Frank had his share of hot and heavy kisses and part time teases from full time ranch hands.]
I've never had sex with another man.
[To put it plainly. Somehow his face isn't on fire for that. Good.]
So if it isn't the best for you this time, just... gimme time and we can try again?
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I haven't either. We can learn together?
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I like that. A lot.
[Though it's his turn to pull back and look puzzled.]
You too? But...why?
[Smart city boy, lean and good looking. Aren't they supposed to be more progressive here?]
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I'm not really good at talking to people. Girls, guys, I never really know what to say. Things either come out wrong or I get stuck. My friends, they--a lot of them started talking to me first and I got more comfortable with them. Now, they'd probably say I never shut up.
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[Spoken with urgency and the need to correct this crazy notion that someone wouldn't want to give Peter the attention he's owed.]
...I'm a good listener.
[He leans up again and gives a gentle kiss. Stupidly sweet with what they're intending to do.]
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[ He grins again but more shyly, the kiss just as gentle on his end and still smiling afterward. ]
You are. I... I feel good around you. Like you actually listen to me. Like you want to talk to me. Not many people are like that.
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[No doubt in his head or heart. Jesus Christ is it beating so fast. And he grins right back at the man so close to him.]
Tell me anything you like, Peter. I'm not them. And you're not them either. Thank God.
[He reaches up to brush back his hair.]
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Think maybe... we were meant to find each other.
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...I like the sound of that.
[Leaning again to turn his face into those kisses and shifting every so gently to start up a grinding motion, not all that sure of what to do, but knowing full well that it is going to feel great.]
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I think we should probably lay down?
[ Also get some more clothes off. He was feeling pretty shy before but now? Now he's hot all over. ]
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Yeah...
[His voice is already low but growing dark like coffee. The point of contact at their hips, groin to groin is even more intense then before. No clothes would be great. His scoots back further and reaches to pull Peter with him.]
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Like lay down on top of the other man, now straddling Frank and his hips rock forward as he kisses him. He just allows his body to do what it does naturally. Gives into the urge and doesn't regret it. ]
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Oh my God.
[The pressure and heat through layers of clothing still perfectly project that both of them are erect. His hands push up under Peter's shirt this time from the sides, feeling skin and muscle. They're steadily looking unkempt and haggard. Good.]
Let's....lets get that off of you.
[Or at least pry the buttons open. Frank's not sure how his hands are steady. They are and he's grateful. The whole time he rocks and hips right back up with Peter. The give and take is letting them fall into a rhythm.]
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He opens his eyes and tries to do the same with unbuttoning it, trying to split his attention between rutting himself against the other man and trying to get him undressed. He breathes out a laugh eventually, ]
You're distracting me so much right now.
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Sorry. Sorry... just can't help it.
[Everything in him is begging to move, to touch to look. He huffs and reaches up to touch Peter's face, his cheek and the other to smooth back his hair and kiss his face. It lets him stay just still long enough so that they're now chest to chest. That's progress!]
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You're not sorry at all.
[ But then there's another kiss and Peter practically melts into it, making another soft noise at that. He gets Frank's shirt undone just to make a frustrated sort of whimper at the undershirt the man has on. He tugs at it impatiently. ]
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Okay. Just a moment.
[Because it won't come off so easy. The thin shirts need something else. Can't go around with skin exposed. What would people think? Though right now all he cares about is what Peter thinks as the ribbed undershirt lifts higher and higher to show what manual labor does to an Italian like Frank Castle.]
Now we're gettin' somewhere.
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He leans back just enough to let Frank pull the shirt off and stares what is revealed. It was almost like he was a sculpture. Peter can't remember seeing other men like this before (but then he's made it a point not to look). His hands touch Frank's chest, fingers trail down to his stomach and over more muscle.
He breathes out: ]
Shit.
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...I like what I see too.
[Because that's about the only way he can interpret that.]
Show me more of you, Bright Eyes.
[There's delicious screwn and wiry muscle under his hands.]
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He leans down to claim his lips for his own, hands smoothing down his chest again.
He's not nearly as muscled as Frank but he has a wiry build, his cock growing harder when he rubs himself against Frank's lap. ]
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Wait. Wait. Might as well be fair.
[A fist full of Peter's ass and the other shimmies down his own trousers. Their kiss is no longer prim, soft and considerate. It's heated and demanding on both sides. Tongue slides against tongue. A deep, resonating grumble. Cock to cock.]
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Between kisses, hot breath against lips, ]
You're so amazing. Holt shit.
[ Peter is still having a hard time believing he lucked out this much. ]
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[It's a simple, breathless exclamation and far more urging clutch at Peter's hips. The motion is usually what is done with the dames but this feels infinitely better.]
Fuck, you're beautiful. Keep doing that.
[The gliding motion cock to cock. It's perfect. So right.]
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