The kiss is softer than Stiles is expecting, not that he really expected this, ever, but Peter's mouth is soft and coaxing, firm lips keeping his mouth open for Peter's tongue to explore. Stiles chokes back a moan, trying not to give up anything more than he has to, but Peter makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat and deepens the kiss, tilting Stiles' head back until his neck aches.
He doesn't realize that Peter has stopped holding him in place until Peter steps away, and Stiles shivers at the loss. He draws a shaky breath, and forces himself to meet Peter's eyes. Peter is staring at him.
"Thank you," Peter says, sounding oddly sincere, and Stiles raises a trembling hand to his lips, which feel more bruised than his wrist.
Then he's alone. It's a long run, without his car, but the air feels good against his face. He lets himself think about it: Peter's mouth, Peter's hands, for as long as his pulse is pounding in his ears, his shoes slamming into the ground. Later, he will push these thoughts from his mind. There's no time for this.
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winterfish
you know what this road is paved with, 4/4
Date: 2012-08-15 08:44 pm (UTC)He doesn't realize that Peter has stopped holding him in place until Peter steps away, and Stiles shivers at the loss. He draws a shaky breath, and forces himself to meet Peter's eyes. Peter is staring at him.
"Thank you," Peter says, sounding oddly sincere, and Stiles raises a trembling hand to his lips, which feel more bruised than his wrist.
Then he's alone. It's a long run, without his car, but the air feels good against his face. He lets himself think about it: Peter's mouth, Peter's hands, for as long as his pulse is pounding in his ears, his shoes slamming into the ground. Later, he will push these thoughts from his mind. There's no time for this.
He doesn't want to know what he wants.