[Peter closes his eyes, picturing his suite and trying to bend the space between. But he could not seem to move them. Nevermind; he'll get them there eventually.
His gaze flicks down again to Prompto, his fingers brushing across his freckles, down his cheek and back to his hair. He would love to kiss this man, and get his hands on bare skin. Later, he promised himself.
He gave Prompto's hair a little tug, rolling his hips up. He's close enough that a stroke of Prompto's tongue will do it, making him spill with a cry]
no subject
His gaze flicks down again to Prompto, his fingers brushing across his freckles, down his cheek and back to his hair. He would love to kiss this man, and get his hands on bare skin. Later, he promised himself.
He gave Prompto's hair a little tug, rolling his hips up. He's close enough that a stroke of Prompto's tongue will do it, making him spill with a cry]