( Each little tell of Luna's fluster makes his heart thump harder. The rosy dust to her cheeks, the wide eyes, the soft sounds of startle. The gentle smiles. They've drawn these types of things from each other over time, but it's still something that feels almost dreamlike in Peter. It all stems from something so deep between them: that closeness, that trust, fortified into the shape it is between them now. And there are still new things to discover, new things to draw from one another.
Luna laughs very quietly and he's blossoming at the sound, smile curving at the edges of his mouth. It stays there when her fingers lift to brush against the remnants of flour at his lips, and it stays there afterwards, when those fingers draw down his face, his throat. There's a soft shudder that ripples downwards, makes his skin prickle pleasantly.
The flour wasn't all too bad, but he can imagine tasting nicer things, his eyes slowly dropping to Luna's soft mouth for a long moment. Peter stares there, lets himself breathe in this exact feeling for a lengthy beat or two. He doesn't hide the way he's looking at her here, either — warm and fond and hungry, eyes locked on. 'Maybe you'd like to try again?'
There's a soft exhale and then Peter's leaning in to that mouth as a response, pressing his own flush to it. His hands, at the same moment, move downwards to find Luna's hips, fingertips pressing softly inwards — then drawing her towards himself here too. It's gentle, but there's something just as gently insistent to the way he's kissing her, holding onto her — the way he's keeping her close. The way he's pressed gently between the counter and Luna.
Peter's kisses are slow for the moment, but firm and deep and seeking. There's nothing shy about them, nothing withholding. Yes— that thing in him, that sensation, is want for her. )
shamelessly hits this back immediately, they deserve this......
Luna laughs very quietly and he's blossoming at the sound, smile curving at the edges of his mouth. It stays there when her fingers lift to brush against the remnants of flour at his lips, and it stays there afterwards, when those fingers draw down his face, his throat. There's a soft shudder that ripples downwards, makes his skin prickle pleasantly.
The flour wasn't all too bad, but he can imagine tasting nicer things, his eyes slowly dropping to Luna's soft mouth for a long moment. Peter stares there, lets himself breathe in this exact feeling for a lengthy beat or two. He doesn't hide the way he's looking at her here, either — warm and fond and hungry, eyes locked on. 'Maybe you'd like to try again?'
There's a soft exhale and then Peter's leaning in to that mouth as a response, pressing his own flush to it. His hands, at the same moment, move downwards to find Luna's hips, fingertips pressing softly inwards — then drawing her towards himself here too. It's gentle, but there's something just as gently insistent to the way he's kissing her, holding onto her — the way he's keeping her close. The way he's pressed gently between the counter and Luna.
Peter's kisses are slow for the moment, but firm and deep and seeking. There's nothing shy about them, nothing withholding. Yes— that thing in him, that sensation, is want for her. )