[ Luna is happy no matter what way this goes. Dragging him to the sofa is always quite a good choice, but she would very much like to see where Peter's option goes. It's something a bit different, after all. Good kind of different, something a little thrilling — a lot thrilling. Her takes her hands and she grins, hurrying along with him with an eager little spring in her step as he draws her out from the kitchen.
Her back soon meets a space of wall in the hallway and he presses against her, offers a fresh wave of kisses. She feels drunk and hungry all at once, meeting the urgency of them with enthusiasm. Her arms reached up once more; one hand quickly gathering in the fabric of his shirt, the other sliding up to his face — keen to keep him close.
When he moves away she takes the moment to catch her breath, panting softly against the side of his head — clumsily presses a kiss there. It feels good, and she's falls into a short hush, enjoying the sensation of his mouth at her neck. His hand gently tugs at her thigh, moves it upwards, and she cracks open an eye curiously — it takes her a few long beats to work out what he's trying to do, oh. Oh, she knows what he's trying to do. She collects herself, focuses, hooks the lifted leg onto his waist. Her hands shift slightly, bracing herself onto his shoulders — squeezing briefly to signal, mentally counting to him. ]
« One, two.. » [ On three, she hops for him to catch her — lifting up her second leg to join the other about his waist, grips his shoulders for balance and presses her back into the wall to keep her steady. A laugh escapes her; it's clumsy and the slightest bit awkward trying to get their bodies organised, but it's exciting too — this is definitely bold. She likes bold very much.
... But then Luna realises what being like this means as he shifts closer, the new positions of their hips now the difference of height has been corrected. A soft whimper escapes her lips; a mix of realisation, relief and anticipation. As enjoyable as it is, there's a growing frustration of being able to hit the right angle while they've been standing.
But now, like this?
There's a tentative, slow roll of her hips; testing the new angle, and she's rewarded with the right enough friction in the right spot. There's another little whimper, this time out of pleasure. ... No, this is far better for them. She adjusts her legs; wrapping them tighter about his waist. Her thighs squeeze slightly, trying to coax him to grind into her with the tiniest mental plea: ]
« Three, » ( Peter finishes with a grin as Luna hops to wrap around his waist and he's sliding her up the wall, and then he's laughing too as they struggle for a moment or two. This sort of thing looks so flawless in the movies; in real life, it's... a little bit wonky here and there (his head gently bumping hers a time or two), but the wall is a nice hard surface to keep her steady, and he finds if he pushes himself right up against her, with one knee slightly nudged forwards and his hands splayed down under her thighs, it's easy to support her like this.
And oh, this is something new: the same closeness as they often explore with each other, certainly Luna's legs have been wrapped around him before, but this is somewhere new entirely. Things feel different, her body feels different against his; his heart's pounding in his chest and ears as he stands there with his mouth pressed to the side of hers. That whimper exhales and Peter's swallowing, pleasantly dazed by her.
Then Luna's giving a slow movement of her hips, and Peter gasps quietly at the way the contact feels. His fingertips tighten against her as her legs wrap more firmly around him, locking him into place. She pleas in a way that threatens to drive him crazy, and he's immediately giving another soft exhale as he tilts his face into her neck, rolls his own hips up against her — slow and flush and careful as he feels her push back against the wall. The way it feels makes him give another little sound of his own. )
« Luna... » ( Her name is a thrum voiced in her mind, Peter finding himself some mix of contented and yet seeking more. There's a soft moan underlying his words, and he's opening his mouth against her neck, kissing wide and deep and hungry. ) « You feel so good. »
( It's not that he's completely forgotten about the demon. But while the thought of something of its own sentience inside of him while he's... making out with his girlfriend has routinely been a discomfort in itself, it's begun taking second place to another discomfort, over time. Which is the knowledge of the erratic nature of the thing, and to be so close to Luna — so physically close, if the demon were to have one of his moments of upset so suddenly, she could be.... hurt. Badly hurt. It's taken a long time for Peter to so comfortably be able to do this much with her, to press his mouth to hers like this, to exist with so little space between them, but he's developed a certain.... trust that the demon won't behave violently in the middle of their make-out sessions. Paimon does seem to... respect those times, and does also fear hurting Luna. Peter knows that.
And this is something they have done a lot of even without putting Paimon to "sleep". This making out, this... physical closeness. He's not quite worried about it right now; he knows Paimon won't lash out and hurt her. This isn't something that makes the demon upset.
Peter's rolling his hips against her again, and then again, slow but firm, kissing her neck with an increasing hunger, and a need for more. His head's filled with her, the way she feels and tastes and sounds, and the rolling motions are becoming firm rubbing movements up against her, feeling a pleasant heat blossoming from his belly, so warm and full of her but still seeking more. He's smiling inbetween his kisses, and giving soft gasps here and there, pleasantly dazed as he checks in on her. )
[ It's definitely not like in the movies, not that she's seen many. But she's definitely seen something like this in the few romantic comedies she's watched. Luna finds herself not minding in the slightest; this isn't a movie after-all. The fact it isn't flawless makes it even better, to her. It's just something new they're working out together, and she's grinning a little when Peter laughs with her.
But it soon melts into something more blissfully serene. He presses more kisses to her skin, slowly grinds his hips against her and she moans softly in thanks. Her hands move back to his hair, busying themselves once more in tangling up in his curls — slow grip and pulls here and there each time rolls his hips against her. Her hips work with him, meeting the pressure he gives — her breaths slowly but steadily growing harder, shivery on each exhale.
The friction borders on heavenly, and she whispers his name in reply over the mental connection — breathless with delight and want. She wants him. She wants him in ways that are more, wants him to touch her in ways that are more — like she does when she's alone. And it's a thought that makes her dizzy, makes her heart thud harder, makes her whimper softly once more in his ear. She answers without words, a short moan louder than she means to utter as his movements change — her head rolling back, bumping lightly against the wall behind her. Yes, it still feels good. It definitely feels good. ]
« Keep doing that. » [ The moan carries across in her words. Her legs tighten a little more around him, as if to emphasise her statement. Don't change anything; whatever he's doing right now, she wants him to continue it exactly as he is.
She doesn't quite realise she hadn't even said the password. Hadn't told Paimon to go to sleep so she and Peter could be alone. In truth, she has a sneaking suspicion Paimon might have left on his own accord. He's not interested in this, mostly. But he does understand that this is time for Luna, time for her to be alone with Peter and that it's important to her. It's something that makes her happy, and she knows that he does want that for her.
... But she doesn't particularly want to think on any of that, at any rate. Paimon hasn't been given much thought, not even when she and Peter were still talking to one another over the network. This is about Peter, getting time with Peter and enjoying it. And she is very much enjoying it, doesn't want it to stop. In fact: ]
« I— I want to finish. » [ Surprisingly polite, given her distracted mind as she fixates on sensation, and desperation of wanting him. Her cheeks burn a little with uttering it, even if it's only mentally. But she's... sure he'll understand what she means by it — what she wants. She can already feel a little pressure building in her from the friction of their movements. That heat that pools in her; she knows what it means — and she wants to keep chasing it. There's the gentle plea in her tone once more: ]
« I want you to make me finish, please. »
nsfw cw but in the form of: Peter getting scared of his own boner
( There are whispers of his name and fingers in his hair, and despite how withdrawn Peter can be with expressing himself, he doesn't hide. Not here, not from her — he's murmuring her name right back, sometimes mentally and sometimes aloud, and he's giving little moans of his own, soft and throaty. He wants Luna to know how good she makes him feel, wants to make her feel just as good in turn. Her head rolls back and his mouth moves over her throat to the other side of her neck, kisses her jaw and cheek and ear, pushes his nose deep into the warmth of her hair.
And he's all too happy to keep doing that, pushing himself against Luna with deliberate motions, still slow but purposeful, grinding himself into her and letting the wall push back behind her, keeping her impossibly flush to his body. He's certainly no stranger to being affected by her, not when they live in the same space and are so often tangled up in one another, but he does try to be... careful about it. Of course he can't swallow things down fully, but he's all right, he thinks, he can pace himself. He buries his face in her and concentrates on the way she smells, and lets her feel the gentle ways she's affecting him — heat pooled downwards, how he fits against her a little warmer and tighter now.
Then comes that request, something new between the pair of them, and Peter's body ripples against her, eyelids fluttering gently against strands of her hair, fingers pressing firmer against her body. There's a soft exhale, shuddery, his heart skipping several heated beats at the words. Voiced so politely but with a plea, and Peter's sighing out her name again, practically melting from that request, from her. He'll happily oblige, with a thudding heart, with another push into her, a little faster, a little harder, as if in reply.
What he isn't expecting is what that request almost immediately does to his body. How fast he goes from 10 degrees — a comfortable, warm tightening, a hazy lull — to 100 degrees.
His hips have her pinned to the wall for that moment and Peter startles. Quietly at first, then with widening eyes and the softest gasp of realisation, a little dizzy. Suddenly— so suddenly, he's— oh god, full and twitching—
It's gently that he retracts from her, but something's clearly changed, something insistent, as he pulls his head back, still halfway hazy, eyes glossy but pinpricked with something fretful. His voice is a little hoarse, words coming out soft and awkward as his brain tries to pull itself from the spell, to be able to function. That request of hers has clearly affected him hard — in all meanings of the word. )
I'm sorry— We should— I should stop.
( It's not... the biggest deal that this has happened, really. But he seems almost spooked, trapped between the way his pounding heart felt so pleasant five seconds ago and the way it now feels more like a spike of anxiety. He's reacted so strongly to her, and this is all a new step for them, something pushed just a little bit past where they normally stop — there's a flood of thoughts and images in his mind. Concern about this setting off the demon somehow, or... concern that she'll be afraid of Peter himself.
Of course, the truth is that Paimon noped out well before this point — he was awake when they got home, and perking up at the thought of getting to wash fruits with The Girlfriend (exciting!!), only to slip into slumber as soon as the pair began getting amorous with each other (disappointing). And as to the other concern... it's impossible to hide as his body literally strains against him, the abrupt change from being buried against Luna to now trying to back away from her making it all the worse. Peter's still dizzy in his attempt to gently but insistently detach them from one another, fumbling as he tries to set her down, flushed and apologetic. )
Edited 2022-07-31 23:36 (UTC)
cw the death of Luna's hopes of achieving an orgasm in the immediate future tbh
[ It is new, she knows that. But she wants it, wants that with him. To push just a little further than before, for there to be more. It's tentative, usually. But here it's definitely spur of the moment, wrapped up in want and longing. And he presses into again, harder this time and she gasps, something shivery and pleased. He feels good against her like that, her breaths still quick — eyes closing in bliss.
There's some hazy part of her that feels it, somewhat. That something's changed. And it still feels good. Something firm pressed against her, adding a little more pressure for her to grind against. She doesn't connect the dots straight away, concentrating on the sensation — belatedly realising that Peter's pulling back from her. Her eyes open, bleary and confused — half-lost in a little stupor of her own. ]
... W-what—?
[ She stumbles over the word, breathless and still confused as she turns her head to look at him. Stop? Now? Why do they have to stop? There's silent outcry in her face as she blinks quickly, trying to work out what's going on. The confusion shifts to upset. She doesn't want to stop, not when things are... going well—? This was nice, and good. And she thought maybe they were going to do something new, that he'd help her... finish. Part of her feels a strange kind of frustration, to have something pulled out of her grasp so suddenly.
But Peter's apologising, and it quickly sobers her. The upset in her expression shifts once more, to concern this time. She feels lost for a long moment, shake her head. He doesn't need to apologise—? Nothing's wrong, she doesn't think. But something's clearly wrong with him, the spooked look as he's trying to awkwardly go about putting her down.
And she ends up looking down, trying to work out where to put her feet as he moves to set her back onto the floor — only to notice exactly what's going on.
Luna freezes briefly, her eyes widening as her face goes from its pleasant flush to something much darker. It's... very noticeable, the tension in the fabric, how he desperately tries to pull his hips back, away, almost to hide it. Oh, so that's— that's... an erection. ]
Oh, you're— [ She doesn't dare finish the sentence out loud. It's probably for the best for both of them that she doesn't, but mostly for Peter's sake. But she doesn't look or sound too shocked, let alone even horrified by it. Surprised, yes. But, well— that's supposed to happen, isn't it? She's drawn mentally to her copious amounts of notes from Health Class, grounded by the fact it's... just a very typical bodily reaction...?
There's a few long and awkward moments as she tries to readjust herself, as she's lowered down — it's far worse getting them separated than it was getting them entangled against the wall in the first place, especially with his fumbling. But truthfully, there's some small part of her deep down that's quietly amazed: she did that, didn't she? Even with her feet finally on the floor once more, she finds herself staring down at him, despite her fluster. Perhaps... a bit too long. She's still red in the face when she drags her gaze back up to him. ]
It's alright, you're— [ It's fine. She's not upset, not in the slightest. ] Don't be sorry.
[ And she means that. But Merlin, is she a little weirdly frustrated, still. Her hands reach up to wipe at her face, scrubbing furiously for a beat or two. It's fine, she's fine. Maybe they did get too carried away—? Now it's her turn to be apologetic, maybe they pushed things a bit too far — but oh, Merlin, how much did she really want it. Hands framing her face, she turns away from him, as if to try and offer him a little modesty (a bit late for that, all things considered) — still rather flustered and breathless. She is... experiencing a lot of emotions all at once. ]
Did I... take it too far? I just— I was caught up in it all, I just— I wanted to.
hits this back just to further disappoint Luna as Peter tries to run away
( He really, really didn't expect this..... immediate and extremely intense kind of reaction. Again, he's no stranger to being affected by Luna, and there are a few times through their make-out sessions that he's had to.... excuse himself, hoping that she just... didn't notice anything amiss. But Peter's learned how to function through suppressing himself in nearly all aspects, and even here....
He hasn't touched his own body in years. It's cold showers or rolling over in bed and squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his fingers slowly against his sheets to distract himself until his heart slows back down. Of course he thinks about her when he's alone, but even when he's alone, he doesn't allow himself to actually follow through on it. He flinches back from the thought of contact with himself. He still doesn't even like meeting his own gaze in the mirror.
And yes, he's grinded against Luna before and it's certainly sparked things in the moment before, but not like this. Holy shit self, can you calm down? What was it that set you off so suddenly...? Her request? Voiced like that, in a soft plea, the fact she wanted to keep getting that pleasure from you until she finished—
—Oh god, no, don't think about it—!
But Luna's looking down and turning red — 'Oh, you're—'
Peter's flushing too, still standing quite close as he's trying to sort out the detachment of them, both sets of feet on the ground now but everything's still strange and hazy as they've both so quickly literally been forced out of their blissful high with one another. His head's still buzzing with a mix of pleasant and horrified hum; and his eyes are widening with a fresh wave of the latter as she...... continues to stare down. Luna please don't make eye contact with it)
Ummmm— ( Peter says, helpfully, and sweeps his hand downwards, just trying to casually rest it against the front of his pants and conceal things a bit. ...It looks just as awkward as it sounds. As Luna turns away for a moment with palms framing her face, Peter takes a couple of steps back, heart still pounding in his ears, throat tightening with something that feels like upset. It's stupid for him to be. They've been living together for like a year, and while they're both new and shy about many things, it's always been fine; she's his best friend. She turned into a boy a few months ago and he gave her advice on what underwear to wear. There's no— shame about their bodies, even under the shyness.
No, this isn't really... shame. There's a dusting of embarrassment, but that's not the dominant emotion, either. It's.... something that feels more like fear, if Peter were to try and put a word to it. He's blinking against that emotion, trying to keep himself steady in the midst of this weird feeling of becoming overwhelmed, when Luna speaks up again and he's giving a soft exhale, surprised. )
Oh— no, it's not— not that. ( He's quick to try and reassure her, and he's realising exactly how this looks. Of course she might think he's backing off because this is too far. But it's not... like that, and his voice softens a little. )
I wanted it, too. I really liked it. I... I wanted to keep going. ( Saying it aloud makes his ears flush dark red all over again; the memory of the warmth of her body pressed to his own is so achingly fresh. The fact she'd wanted him to help her finish.)
I just— uh. Didn't expect to get so... worked up all of a sudden. ( The most polite way he can say it. Peter gives a little sound that tries to be an awkward laugh, but he still looks.... weirdly frightened. And apologetic, because poor Luna..... He dares to reach out with his other hand, kind of... awkwardly petting her shoulder before his fingers withdraw again. There's a tension, one that's almost palpable, like he wants to run. And then he voices it aloud, that he'll leave, because that's what he should do. (Right?) His heart's fluttering; he's already taking another step back. )
[ She is sorry for looking, but... also not sorry because this is all honestly kind of fascinating to her, in a way. Of course she knows he's gotten into things pretty enthusiastically before, but it's never really come to something like this. Not such a strong, obvious reaction.
And she does remember the times he's politely excused himself, and she's suspected it's to go and calm himself down, when things have gotten a little bit heated between them. Or perhaps the closeness has gotten a little bit too close for comfort for him, considering his circumstances. She's had her suspicions, but she's usually held her tongue for his sake. It is a little bit embarrassing, admittedly. It's not like he can hide it so easily like she does — and Luna's very much understood that difficulty from her own time spent as a boy.
(And he is not really helping matters by trying to hide himself with his hand. You're just drawing attention to yourself, Peter.)
But, yes... there's curiosity, of course. She is still quite amazed that she kind of... caused this reaction. Maybe she did get a little carried away, she thinks. She's not really said something so pointedly like that before to him; even her own cheeks continue to burn a bit with that. ]
If you wanted to keep going, and I wanted to keep going, then...? [ There's a wide-eyed confusion to that, to his assurances. It had sounded like he wanted to keep going, she's sure of that. How he'd pressed into with more insistence, a little harder, faster. He'd wanted to keep going. So then...? The natural answer would be to... keep going...? ]
But... that's supposed to happen—? That's usual, though—? I do know what happens to a boy's body when they're... [ She swallows thickly, a little dizzy as she gestures towards him with a slight nod of her head. She trails off, but he'll understand what she's getting at. She's still a little internally frustrated and strange — it's jarring for them to go from being so blissfully entwined to... this. And well, truthfully could she really blame him for getting worked up so easily? The teasing over the network, the time with that in his mind before he returned home, the things she said.
But is this something she's supposed to be upset with him about? That he got... worked up like that? She's certainly not going to be upset about getting— well, aroused, considering what they were doing. She shifts one her hands slightly to peek round at him curiously. She is thankfully and politely keeping her gaze level at his face, not looking down at him again. She.. doesn't really understand, doesn't really understand much of this — why he looks so spooked. And she wants to understand it, wants to know what's wrong. ]
I'm... not upset that you were enjoying it.
[ Why would she be? Of course she wants him to enjoy things like this as much as she does, that's the whole point of it. They're enjoying it together. But Peter's offering to leave, stepping so awkwardly away from her. She doesn't want him to leave. Part of her worries if he does, then it might draw things to an immediate close. That he'd rather just not address things, what's going on here. She loves him, but Merlin knows he would happily bury his head in the sand and pretend this didn't happen, to not have to think about it. What will that mean for next time? Will they simply just repeat what's happened here? ]
No, don't— [ She shakes her head, moves her hands away fully from her face. Her brow furrows at him. She... doesn't want to leave this here. ] Could we... talk about this—? Please—?
[ There's a little pause before she adds: ]
If you would... prefer to go calm yourself down first, that's alright. But I... I would like to talk about this, about us.
operation: don't let Peter run away from his problems
( He does understand what she's getting at, and it makes sense, but Peter seems weirdly tongue-tied about it, just kind of stuttering a bit in response. (Again, it's super helpful, Peter.) There's..... multiple parts to this, and some of it he's been meaning to talk to her about for awhile, but... he hadn't expected to do it right now. (Maybe he's still been putting it off, because it's absolutely terrifying, and he doesn't know how to go about starting.) It's... complicated. He's just kind of staring at his girlfriend, still looking very much like a deer caught in the headlights, just waiting to bolt unexpectedly.
'I'm... not upset that you were enjoying it.'
He's swallowing, that odd twinge of upset seeming to swell up a little bit, a tightness at the base of his throat. It's all heightened by the discomfort of his body — Peter giving a few awkward shifts here and there as he looks down at her. She's confused; he's confusing her, and he's sorry, brows knitting again, that odd tension still pressing against him. It's his natural way to react, to handle situations that feel uncomfortable — to leave. To excuse himself, to stop himself from causing any more problems, to hide—
But Luna's asking him not to, directly. To talk about it, please, and Peter gives a soft sound. A nod follows it, and he bites his lip. )
Yeah— Yeah, okay. Sorry, yeah— we can do that.
( He's flushed about the whole... calming down factor, but he's giving his head a soft shake. )
I'll be fine, I'll just take a sec and— meet you in the living room, if you want—?
( Peter hesitates, heart still fluttering in some strange way, and he's not sure if it's from the pleasant high from seconds before, or the waves of upset he's feeling. His hands shake, but just slightly. It's hardly noticeable, even when he reaches out to awkwardly give her shoulder a little squeeze — some... little attempt at reassurance. Then he's awkwardly kind of... stepping around her... and walking just as awkwardly towards the... kitchen?
It seems Peter has methods of "calming himself down", ones he's very familiar with. He's moving to the sink and running cold water for a few moments, leaning over it and taking some time to just stare at the water. Then he's gently pressing his palms to it and brushing some against his forehead and the backs of his hands. For good measure, he gently pats a little bit of cold water up under his shirt too, wincing a little at the feel of it on his stomach.
Fixing two glasses of ice water (...his own has extra ice in it), Peter takes his time, walking slowly around the kitchen a few times. It's a matter of...... getting the blood flowing other places. By the time he heads to the living room, it's been several minutes. The danger's maybe not... fully passed, but at least he's not....... quite so riled up. Ignoring his own body does wonders.
He sets down one of the glasses for Luna if she wants it and.... keeps his own held in his palms as he sits carefully down on one end of the sofa. )
So..... ( He starts, awkwardly, then gives a soft laugh and closes his eyes for a moment. He's nervous, one leg jiggling slightly as he peels his eyes open again and looks up at her. )
...Sorry. Um. You know... this has nothing to do with you, right? It's not... you. It's all me. I'm— I'm just really nervous. About... everything. And I don't want to like... freak you out or anything.
can't run away when Luna just laying it out like this
[ He's not the only one. Luna's been meaning to have this kind of conversation with him for quite some time, but it's been difficult to really find the right moment for it. So much has happened over the past several months — and neither of them's really been in much of a romantic mood, let alone in the right mind for having a conversation about something like this. Especially when the whole thing is a... very complicated matter, given the circumstances.
There's a short nod, actually looking relieved he's not immediately shutting this down to run off and hide about this. She wouldn't really blame him if he did, especially when he's... all worked up like this. It was a good idea to offer to let him go calm himself down first.
Luna's still flustered herself, swallowing and nodding again as she turns to retreat to the living room, smoothening down hair and clothing as she goes. She's still incredibly frustrated from the sudden stopping of it all, and while it's not obvious as poor Peter, she's definitely struggling with herself, too. Taking a moment to herself to sit down on the sofa, she promptly press a small cushion to her face and utter a soft whine into it. She's fine, it's fine. Everything is fine. She just has to... not think about it.
She'll just be sitting awkwardly until Peter returns, gratefully taking the ice water and discreetly trying to press the condensation of the glass to her palms and then her neck. Maybe, she thinks belatedly, she should have gone to splash her face in the bathroom while she waited for him. Her lips purse in the silence until Peter finally speaks up, gaze lifting up with wide-eyes to meet his. There's a slow nod; yes, she knows this isn't about her. She understands that, but her brow furrows slightly as he continues. ]
Peter, it's me. You don't need to be nervous. As I said, I know what happened can happen... is supposed to happen. So no, I'm not... 'freaked out'. [ There's a short pause before she adds quietly: ] I suppose in some way I'm quite.. flattered—?
[ Is that the right thing to say? She's not sure. But perhaps something to reinforce the idea that she isn't upset with him actually enjoying what happened, not to mention the thought of someone being attracted to her like that still feels... new, in some ways. Luna clears her throat, moving swiftly on: ]
I did get a bit carried away, getting caught up in the moment. We both did. I do like where we are with— [ she gestures vaguely. ] —romance. It's very comfortable. In the moment, I just... wanted more. I wanted to do more with you.
[ Although in truth it's not something that's contained to an intense moment, she's thought about it other times, too. ]
I've given it some thought for a while now, I just— [ Luna stops, frowning to herself — her gaze falling to her lap. She feels like she's beating around the bush, which isn't very much like her. She needs to just... spit it out. She remembers her conversation with Dirk, of course it's going to be awkward and nerve-wracking. But if they're both sitting down, willing to talk about this then she needs to just be out with it. ]
... I was going to make tea first. [ She murmurs it softly, more to herself than Peter. Like a quiet little afterthought. That was the plan, wasn't it? That she'd make tea before having a conversation like this. Curses. She inhales sharply, looking up once more at him. She's quite matter of fact with her words, uttering them quickly before she has the chance to falter. ] I'm going to be quite blunt about it: I would very much like for us to have sex at some point, whenever we feel ready for it, and the things that lead up to it, too. If... that's something you're open to experiencing with me.
And even if you never want to, that's alright with me. But I would like to know where our boundaries are, if that's the case. I think we should make that clear for both of our sakes.
"I had 2 hit this back............." is saved in my autofill... smh......
( Peter's looking over to meet that wide-eyed way she's looking at him and immediately.... grasps his glass a little tighter. He is sweating a little, but this is fine, he's fine as long as she doesn't like, touch his leg or anything, (he's fine).
....Oh. Flattered. He flushes, ears lighting up like Christmas. Through all of the... awkwardness and discomfort, at the core of it, there's something still quietly happy and excited and pleasantly shy and hopeful and an abundance of other emotions that are surely normal things to feel when having experienced something new with your romantic partner. And he's still pleasantly dazed by the fact he was able to elicit such a reaction in her, too. It...feels nice, knowing that they made each other feel good like that. For a moment, Peter's able to let himself feel that, and he's actually smiling a little — still shy, an expression that almost cautiously seems to peek out at her, but it's genuine.
And he's listening as Luna continues, carefully turning his body to face her a bit more. She's on the precipice of something, and his brows are slowly lifting, attentive — this is shifting towards the kind of Talk he'd been quietly nursing within himself, too.
'... I was going to make tea first.' The softly-uttered remark has him blinking gently; he doesn't quite understand, but it doesn't feel like he needs to. He's well-used to Luna saying those little things, remarks that might seem like they belong somewhere else, but he knows they mean something to her as she sorts her thoughts out. He waits, patient and on the cusp of something nervous and eager all in the same vein, the pads of his fingers slowly rubbing against the cool sweat of his glass.
And then Luna's being quite blunt about it and saying what she says, and Peter goes stock-still. It's.... almost exactly what he'd have wanted to say, except of course it's so much more direct and eloquent than he ever could have made it. Luna just says it, and Peter's eyes are widening further, body giving a sudden little jolt that threatens to have him spilling his water. He flinches, leans forwards immediately to set his glass down, and then returns to his position with a grimace. )
Stupid.... ( As in, he's stupid, but he's soon enough adjusting his expression a little, even though his ears remain red. )
I um. Well, actually, I.... okay, wow. I am glad that you said all that, because I.... kind of have felt the same way...? ( His heart's pounding away again, with that same mix of nerves and excitement. She... wants to do more, too. She's been thinking about it. About him. )
If you... wanted to, I'd like to try more things too. And um. ( Shit, she really did just say everything that's he's wanted to and had no idea how. He's... awed? Like, wow? He is so immensely in love with you, Luna. )
I, um. I would also like exploring that. If you would want to. ...Sex, and things that lead up to it. I've been thinking about it for awhile, too. ( ....Luna wants to have sex with him and do things with him, please don't resurge, Boner, please don't resurge, he's going to die— )
...I just wasn't sure how to... talk about it. I didn't want to make you think that I wasn't happy with things the way they are, because I am? I really am. I'm happy... doing anything with you.
( Despite the... choppy, nervous way he speaks, there's something softening in Peter's eyes, and he gives a slow exhale as he leans across the little gap between them to find her hand, giving it a soft squeeze. This is.... wow??? For just a brief second, he's wondering what he was even worrying about this whole time? Luna's on the same wavelength, she's right there with him, and maybe it's awkward but it's also comfortable in the special way they are with one another, and he's young and he's in love and she wants to share more things with him.
....But there is more to it. More to why he hasn't brought this up, and why he'd gotten so..... afraid. Why his heart gives a sudden stagger, and this one's not from hazy pleasant adrenaline. This one hurts, feels like something claws its way down him.
Peter's hand loosens slightly, and then he's pulling back, something darkening in his features, an ache. He tries to voice it, sputters a little. He doesn't quite know how, and a large part of him just doesn't want to say the words at all. )
....I want those kinds of things with you... these kinds of things. ( The... closeness from moments ago, more close than they've been before. His body's still so fresh from it; still so warm from her. ) But I don't think... I should have them. Not when I'm... like this.
( Even now, he can't easily say the word, even when he knows it's his identity now. Possessed. Haunted, tainted, fucked up, filled up with something Else. Peter's not able to meet her eyes for the moment, slowly staring downwards instead. Once again, he's failing her, and it hurts to tell her this. It's hurting more and more with each second, his voice falling to a hush. He wishes he could be someone else. )
With........ you know. With him, inside me.
and then it takes me a month to get back to it :')
[ 'Stupid' is certainly not the initial reaction she's expecting, wide eyes blinking in stunned silence. It's a fraught few seconds as Peter grimaces then moves to set his glass down. But when he finally does bring himself to speak, the tenseness in her stare softens into a pleasant surprise — her heart fluttering gently with his words. Oh, he's felt the same way. Isn't that wonderful?
And it's hard to refrain from looking hopefully excited by that prospect; her mouth quivering, lips wanting to burst out into a huge beaming smile — the excitement mixing in with the little burst of adrenaline for being blunt and just coming out with it. He wants these things, too. And she's delighted by that, uttering a soft shaky exhale gently voiced with a laugh. She's... holding herself back, though. Mostly because even as delighted and exhilarated she is, this is a serious conversation — perhaps it's best to rein in the glee a little bit. ]
It's not really the easiest thing to talk about in general, let alone when it's us. [ There's a nervous kind of energy of her own, excitable. Even if she's trying her best to keep composed, it seeps through — fidgeting with her glass for a few moments. She shakes her head slightly. ]
I never thought that, that you might be unhappy with things not being more. I suppose I didn't want to push too far, more than what you're comfortable with. I like where we are, too.
[ She understands it can be a lot, for both of them, but more so with Peter. That closeness with another person, considering everything. It's something she's always been very considerate of. She's been content with where they are, just pressing a little bit further each time. But the problem is that neither of them have known whether there would be a limit to that, or if the other wanted to keep going. And as much as they do talk about things, this is just.... something big, isn't it? It is awkward, a bit. But they've never shied away from having conversations, it just feels like another one of those.
It seemed all that was needed was for her to put the words out there for him, to give voice to the things it seems they've both wanted — a gentle (and blunt) nudge in the that direction. He reaches for her hand and she grins a little, her heart still fluttering pleasantly — she feels.... very fortunate to have found him. To find someone she would love and trust with this.
But it's short-lived. He pulls away, his expression shifting. Luna's smile dims, and he's looking away from her: But I don't think... I should have them. Not when I'm... like this. She inhales softly, her brow furrowing into quiet sadness. Oh, Peter. No. She puts her own glass down and reaches back for his hand once more, if he'll let her. ]
You're allowed to have these things.
[ She's not sure who's permission he needs. If it's hers or his own. But if it's hers, she'll give it. He is allowed these things with her, she wants him to have these things with her because if they're hers to give — she'll give them to him. She doesn't want to share them with anyone else. There's a short pause as she considers for a moment, quietly thoughtful. ]
... Granted I know your situation is complicated, and it's easy for me to say you're allowed when I'm not the one with a demon inside me. But you are allowed to have this... this intimacy with me. [ He has her permission; it's what she wants. ]
I look at you, and I see you. Not both. You're the one I want to share this with. Not him. This is just for us. [ So much of them is blurred into one, so much of them is shared — between demon and vessel. Luna tries to draw the lines between them, the boundaries. Paimon has things that are his alone, and so does Peter. Sometimes there's things that can't be separated, but they can have this. ]
But you need to allow yourself, too.
it's okay nothing can be slower than Peter's Progress
( It's not fair, that the moment of bubbling, nervous excitement is so short-lived, cut off by something dark and looming. But then, "fair" isn't a word that's applied to either of them, really. Not in their individual lives and not in their life together. "Fair" really isn't a word to be considered at all; even Peter well knows by now that things don't.. work that way. They just don't. They can't.
But he can't help feeling it for a moment, an upset shaped into the form of 'this isn't fair'. The relief to hear that each other feels the same way, the gentle assurances: they're both happy with where things are, but they also would like to explore more, together. It all flickers away as soon as he says what he does, and as he watches Luna's face change along with it, and he hates that he's brought something sad and heavy to such a nice moment. Maybe he should've waited for a bit longer before voicing that part, allowed them time to just... be happy.
But he can't. It weighs too heavy, and he can't.... let Luna think he's something that he isn't.
She's reaching to take his hand back, and he lets her, fingers curling gently around hers again, but something in his body is loose and limp. 'You're allowed to have these things.'
It should be assuring, and maybe on one level it is, but on another level, something is sinking within Peter. His frown grows deeper, eyes soft and sad as he listens. He is listening, he hears what she's saying. He understands what she means and he wants to lean into the warmth of those words, wants to let his heart be warmly held by them. But.... something quietly fretful grows in him, and he's turning slowly to face Luna even more, one leg tucked under. )
I know what you're saying. I— I believe you. But it's just...
( He hesitates, unsure how to put it into the right form, and once again, not wanting to. He doesn't want to say any of this and he looks miserable as he speaks. )
....Even if we... use the password, put him to sleep, he's not— he's not really gone. You know? He's still here.
( The words come slowly and he's not looking at her at first, but eventually, his eyes drag back upwards, feeling a little bit hot at the corners. )
I know you're not.. afraid of me. Of being... close to me. I know. But.... isn't it weird, to think about him...inside me? I mean, my body, it's— it's like— ( His other hand moves towards himself as though in gesture, fingers drifting down his side, but not touching. There's a wince, like he doesn't want to think about actually touching it at all. Like he's come close to touching something unpleasant. And there's a word he thinks to describe himself with, but he's never said it aloud, and it hurts to say it now. Peter swallows hard, and keeps wishing he could be different. )
It's disgusting.
not you roasting your own character in the tag lines
No— [ It snaps out of her more fiercely than she means it to, but she does mean it. But there's tones of upset underneath it all, that he could call himself that. That he thinks of himself that way. She holds his hand a little tighter, edging closer towards him to let her other hand join it. ]
You are not disgusting.
[ Not to her, never to her. Even when she knows he's capable of some less than pleasant things: the conjuring of ants, of other creepy crawlies, the cold sweats in the middle of the night that he wakes from shaking. The side-effects of both his blood and his current condition. The fact that some ancient demonic entity rests within him. She has never thought of him disgusting, never shuddered away from him repulsed to be with him.
No, it's not fair. Not fair that they've gone from what they were doing to this. It's not fair that Peter feels in such away about himself, about his own body. It's not fair how they have to fight so hard for their happiness; they've done enough fighting. It's not fair they can't have peace. But she will continue to fight for him. She won't have him thinking like that about himself. She doesn't want that for him. ]
... You know when I asked you to take your shirt off for me? For the first time, back in Deerington? Do you know what was the first thing, the only thing I could think—? [ Even now she can remember it; she can still picture the pleasantness, the haziness of an afternoon on Valentine's Day. How she's been sat in his lap, pink-cheeked and shy — asking politely to see him without his shirt on. How she'd stared with a sense of wonder. ]
I thought you were beautiful.
[ She squeezes his hand gently, mouth upturned in upset. She can feel pin-pricks of tears in the corners of her eyes but she fights to keep them at bay, wills herself not to cry. He's beautiful to her. Beautiful to gaze upon, to touch, to be with. She's never wanted someone as much in her entire life. She wants to be able to share so many things with him, share herself with him. He's beautiful, and he makes her feel beautiful, too. ]
For as much as you are together, you are also separate. I don't think about him, because I don't want to think about him when I'm with you. I just want to think about you, you're the one I want.
If I couldn't bring myself to be with you, I would have told you long ago.
[ If it was too much, if she couldn't separate the two. If she wasn't able to be with Peter in the physical ways of their relationship, she would have told him long ago. She would have told him the truth. ]
Is.. is that how you feel about yourself, when you're with me? Do you think you're disgusting?
[ It isn't accusatory, not in the slightest. But there is something wrong here, and she wants to try and fix things — to find some kind of solution. It's a genuine question, trying to find where that line of thought about his body begins and ends. ]
( The reply comes so quick and assured that it stuns Peter, a little. He lets Luna find his other hand, the heat at the corners of his eyes sharper.
You are not disgusting.
There's a pinprick moment of shame because Peter knows he's affected by those words, knows it shows so painfully in his features. He feels them come undone a little, eyes suddenly much more moist and face tight, trying to keep something pushed back that's been kept pushed back for a very long time. He's ashamed because he knows telling her such a thing would hurt her, and he can see that it does, see how it affects Luna too. It's there in her eyes and her voice, doses of upset. He's listening, trying to keep himself calm and still but there's a soft sound as she continues: something that's a mixture of a breath, a whimper, an exhale.
I thought you were beautiful.
He remembers the moments she's referring to. Some things get lost over time for him, especially him — but some things don't. That Valentine's Day is one of them; he remembers the details, the flurry of shy nerves and the happiness that followed. He'd sang her a song and she'd wanted to see him. He'd seen her, too: both of them gently going a little bit further, bold and shy and comfortable. He was so nervous but so was she — her scars exposed for him. It was some turning point in their intimacy together, something new opened up between them. ....He learned the word 'snog'. They kissed and kissed until they ended up moving to the bed to drift asleep, tangled lazily in one another. It was a good, good day.
Peter's closing his eyes again for a moment and gives a soft shuddery breath, a little overwhelmed. Beautiful. No one's ever, ever called him that. It feels like some word that simply never... belonged to him; why would it? It was never meant for him. Hearing Luna say it now... he almost doesn't know how to take it, throat tight. He's not moving, just listening, and he does believe everything she's saying. Peter's fears about Luna someday resenting him haven't simply... vanished, but they have taken on a different form, over time. He knows Luna wouldn't do something she didn't want to do, wouldn't be with him if it was forced, if it took away from who she was. That isn't... how she is. She wouldn't. And there's been a certain reliance in that, for this person who is so authentically herself, who would never let even him, and what's wrong with him, compromise that. He trusts that about her. He does. It's so... different from how his family functioned, but he's been learning. Trying to learn.
It's the next part. It's exactly what she asks next. Peter finally crumbles that last bit, unable to keep it back anymore. Physically, he's crumbling inwards, body going looser, head dipping down a bit. His hands go completely slack against hers. )
I do— I am. ( Disgusting. ) I can't stand— looking at myself, seeing myself. I don't like it. I don't like— the way I feel. My body, my skin—
( He's never voiced any of this aloud, and each word feels like a shard of glass, splitting off as something breaks. Again, shame leaks through; he knows they've been together for a while now, there are things they've been growing and progressing through, and he feels like he's just... ruining it. )
I keep... trying. To see this as something that's just... I just have to live with it. I'm just like this and I'm always going to be, but— I still feel so wrong. ( Peter's eyes are squeezing shut and he can feel that he's starting to cry a little, and he feels stupid and weak, voice watery and shaking by this point. )
I'm sorry. I'm not trying to— ruin things. I'm happy with you. I'm so happy. I'm just— I'm not happy with me.
[ It's crushing. To see him like this, to hear himself speak of himself. How he can't stand the sight of himself, how he exists within his own body. It hurts because he speaks of himself in all the ways she doesn't, thinks of himself in all the ways she doesn't. But she listens, feels his hands slacken in hers — how low he starts to sink. How he slowly comes to pieces. He doesn't need her to look hurt, he needs her to listen, and she is listening.
And for a long time too, all she can do is be silent. Luna feels at a loss. She doesn't quite know how to help him, doesn't know how to make these thoughts go away. How to make him not think like this. The truth is she knows she can't change his situation, she can't undo the things that have been done to him. She can't take away the fact that he and Paimon are... stuck together, indefinitely. That the demon swallows so much of him.
... But this isn't about Paimon, it's about Peter. If it weren't for Peter, she wouldn't have bonded with Paimon. Peter has always been her driving force, fuelled by the love she has for him. But of course, there had to be something there to love about him in the first place, hadn't there? ]
... I wish you could see yourself how I see you. [ It's uttered in a hushed voice. Yes, there is hurt. Hurt because she's sorry he feels in such a way, sorry that even though he's trying it's still hard for him to see himself as anything but wrong. Sorry that there's shame in his face, in his eyes. She grips his hands gently, shakes them slightly once — she's here, she sees him. ]
I see you. And I like that I see you, I like looking at you. I like how you feel. That you're gentle, and warm, and wanting, and that there's so much love in you. That's how to feel to me.
[ The reasons why she loves him. Some of them. The things he keeps buried within him so often, but she gets to see. Things she saw when pressed against the wall with him only a short time ago. The gentleness to him, the warmth of him towards her, how openly he wants her — how they form something comfortable and safe. How he is beautiful to look at, something precious she feels incredibly privileged to see. ]
To me, being with you is right. You've never been something wrong, or disgusting. Even with everything, you're still you — the person that's beautiful to me. I trust myself with you, you're the one I choose for this, to be intimate with.
[ And it is not a choice she would make so lightly. But she knows he would be gentle with her, and patient and warm and wanting, and it would never be anything other than what he's already shown her. It would always be the two of them, with their shy smiles and sounds of mirth and softly wanting one another. That's what she chooses for herself, in him. And it's what she wants him to have with her. ]
It's hard, trying by yourself. But I'm here too. I'm with you through this. If you let me— [ She's not sure how to word it. Let her show him, perhaps—? She doesn't know exactly with that. ] maybe you could learn how to be happy with yourself, maybe you could learn to see yourself how I see you.
[ She will always be here with him, will always be beside him to love him, to like him, to want him. To look at him, to touch him. If he can't do it for himself, she'll be there with him to do it for him until one day he might be able to love and like himself. He doesn't have to be alone in learning how.
There's a pause, her brow furrowing slightly. She's thoughtful for a long moment before she offers him a kind smile. She knows what she's saying is a huge ask. These things are not so easily undone, to think of himself in another way isn't so simple. Sometimes things can't always change, or they can't change fully. Luna accepts how difficult this will be for him, with everything. With all he has to deal with. ]
And... if it's something you don't think you could manage, if it's too difficult— if us going further is too much— then that's alright with me, too. [ Which is to say those kinds of intimacy with him, those physical aspects — things like having sex with him, getting to explore those things together with him. It is not the be all and end all within their relationship. Where they are now is comfortable, and good. She gets to kiss him and hold him and sleep curled up, tangled up in him. She gets to learn new things about Muggles, spend time, and laugh and smile with him. She gets to feel safe and loved by him.
Those are the important things, she thinks. If Peter can't ever bring himself, if he's unable to find himself ready or comfortable with himself to do those things — then that's alright with Luna. She doesn't need those things. And besides, they've always done things their own way, haven't they? They've chosen what's for them and what isn't. If things like sex isn't for them, then it isn't for them. ]
You could never ruin this. [ She wants to assure him of that. He's not ruining anything. She's glad he's saying these things to her, that he trusts her with these thoughts, these feelings he harbours inside of himself. She scoots a little closer to him, close enough for their knees to almost touch. One hand reaches for his face, her fingers brushing against his cheek — it's such an common, easy gesture between them now. No, he could never ruin it. ]
... And if things change, if you feel like you can be with me in the ways you want... [ If he wants to try things—? If he does feel able to. ] You just... tell me, and I'm right there with you.
Edited (I COULDN'T LIVE WITH THE TYPOS ;O;) 2022-10-19 21:45 (UTC)
it's been a week and my heart ain't recovered from that stab wound ಠ⌣ಠ
( Peter's at a similar loss, for a few moments. He doesn't know what might come of saying all this — didn't plan for what might happen after. It's been a long time coming, though, and not just the upsetting parts but everything else, too. The idea of wanting to explore more together; he'd commented to that one guy Dirk awhile back who was giving tips on Intimacy For The Inexperienced, chatted with him, came to the conclusion that he needed to talk to Luna at some point about everything. And here it is, only it's coming out messier than he meant for it to. But maybe that's how it has to be, because this is upsetting, and he's letting himself be upset about it, not hiding that fact from her.
He just sits there for a few moments, giving a soft sniffle. At the root of his upset is that fear that he might be ruining some part of this, which maybe has always seemed inevitable — he ruins everything, doesn't he? Eventually, he does.
But he doesn't keep rambling about that fear. Instead, he listens to what Luna says when shespeaks again — telling some of the ways she sees him, as something warm and gentle, something good. Something with love inside of him. Peter gives another shuddery exhale, throat tightening up hard and fast. He's always wanted to be something like that for her, because he's learned it, finally — what it means to want to be something warm and safe for someone because you love them, so much. Hearing Luna voice it, reiterate that he's like that for her... it means everything, even through all of the ways he struggles to see himself like that.
And then she offers it, something to that — to helping him with himself, and he swallows again as he continues to listen. This whole thing isn't him shutting down on her or backing away — he doesn't want to go backwards. Nothing in him wants that. It's just that he doesn't know how to go forwards, but... she's offering help with that, and not only help but understanding. And assurance that it's okay not to go further, they don't have to. It's okay.
Peter finally looks back up at Luna as her hand reaches for his face, fingertips gentle against the curve of his cheek. 'You could never ruin this.' One way or another, no matter how he needs to be: trying or not trying to advance in certain intimate aspects, even trying and needing to back down again, it's... okay. It's safe, they're safe and secure with however they are, whenever it happens, however it happens. He can't ruin this, and she's right there with him no matter what.
It's... acceptance. Whole and unconditional. And Luna's always been that for him, even from very long ago back when they were each other's best friend before they were anything else, but it's still a concept that Peter's.... stunned by, and it hits him again now, in sweeping waves. He's closing his eyes, tilting his face against her palm, feeling himself crying quietly. It's so different from what he always knew: toeing around saying the wrong thing, living like an unwanted guest in his own home, seeking sanctuary in his room just so he wouldn't be in the way. Knowing there was a risk of ruining everything — and he had, he'd ruined it. Peter knows what it is to no longer be looked at or loved the same way you once were, because you ruined something. And there are still unknowns at play, frightening outcomes that could happen within his and Luna's relationship: Paimon could get worse, and Peter could get worse as a result. This place itself could do something to either him or Luna (and ironically, sometime soon, it will, drawing out some of the worst things they could ever say to one another, and even that much won't be able to ruin what they have together).
Peter's crying softly for a little, hand moving up to cup hers, brushing it gently. When he finally opens his eyes again, he's nodding, slowly. )
Thank you. I—I want to. To be with you more, and.... try to learn. How to be.. happy with myself. ( His voice cracks a little at the word — it does hurt his own heart that he isn't. That he can barely look at himself, much less think about.... touching himself, and not just in quiet, intimate ways, but those are certainly a part of it, too. )
Maybe we can... do that. Together. ( He doesn't know exactly what that would entail either, but it makes him a little flushed all the same, the thought of it. Maybe it's exploring things in a way that's a little different sometimes, pieces of bodies and even slower touches and getting used to what it feels like to know exactly how his body feels. How it works. How it.... is his, even with so much within it that doesn't feel like his.
But if he learns, how to be happy with himself, then he can be happy with her. Show her even more love and warmth and affection, and that's what's always driven him through it all. His love for Luna. He's sniffling a little wetly again, before he speaks up again. )
I haven't even... um. When things like that happen, like earlier, when I— ( He blushes slightly, gives the softest sound, ) —I haven't even.... taken care of things like that. Not for years.
...It's just so hard, and.... creepy. Thinking about something inside of me, just.... watching what I'm doing all the time. ( Peter has no idea that Paimon pretty much nopes out as soon as there's any little sparks of desire, because the demon is actually quite uncomfortable by it.... There's some deep irony here; neither of them feel completely at home or comfortable in his body. )
And I know we can't just... ask him to go away every single time we want to do anything. But it's just... ( Peter sighs, softly. ) ....Even now he's probably listening to all this.
( He's... not, actually! Paimon shut down long ago, when it became apparent that they were not going to wash vegetables with Luna and instead were going to Do Intimate Affection Things. )
Edited 2022-10-27 15:55 (UTC)
well it's been six months so maybe you're recovered now.......
[ It feels like there's very little about them that's going to be easy, that's going to go smoothly. This is... messy. Difficult. Navigating the more... personal parts of intimacy between the two of them. It's not fair, in a way. But Luna's certainly never been one to shy away from something because it's difficult. And she does know that there is still parts of them that are easy, that come without difficulty: the fact that she loves him, and he her; how they both want one another to be happy, to feel loved.
And he is very much those things for her. These are the things she sees in him, the things he makes her feel for her. There's nothing difficult in her being able to tell him those things, especially not when they're assurances he needs to hear. So much is said between them without words. They aren't needed. But sometimes they are needed. Knowing something and hearing it are two different things, powerful in their own ways.
Of course she accepts him, her expression softening as his eyes close and he tilts into her palm — tears spilling down his cheeks. Her thumb brushes gently against his skin, wiping those tears away the best she can. She doesn't believe they're something so easy to ruin. Of course there's been difficult things between them (and likely will be many more things to come) but they... they work things out. That's what you do when things go wrong, that's what you do for the people you love. ]
The fact you want to try is an amazing thing in and of itself. [ And of course it deserves praise. She likes getting to touch him, not just in the more intimate ways she'd like to have but even now, just getting to touch his face. Her palm to his cheek, brushing his tears away. She feels incredibly honoured to get to do so, that someone would let her, would be happy to. ]
I'd very much like that. [ Offered gently, with a small smile. ] We're a team, remember? It still applies with things like this. We can work it out together, if that's what you want. And it doesn't make you anything less if it's too difficult.
[ His admission does make her stop, though. Her expression shifting into... a quiet concern, more than anything. Not for years. It's more sobering than anything else. Of course this place, and even Deerington, doesn't allow much space for trying to relax or look after oneself — but even she's managed to... address those certain needs. Some rare moments on occasion she can just take care of things of that nature. It's much like any other need, like food or bathing. ]
Oh, Peter— [ Her mouth opens, then closes. ] but it's so important to take care of those things.
[ She isn't trying to chastise him. Merlin knows just how deeply complex anything like that would be in his shoes. But in a lot of ways it's... a self-soothing kind of thing. It's comfort. It's trying to relax. Although she does realise how deeply uncomfortable Peter is within himself, how could he even manage something like that with how things are for him?
She's quiet for a long moment, considering things. Certainly Paimon is... very much aware of the world around him, including just about everything Peter does. But... even something like this? Granted the demon does not want to be around when the two of them are kissing, he does understand it's a kind of privacy reserved for her and Peter. Surely the same idea would extend to this, too? ]
I imagine he's... quite possibly not all that interested in— [ She gestures towards the door, towards the hallway. ] that sort of thing. I mean— he's a demon, they don't really think how humans do.
[ But even Paimon does understand there's specific ways Luna will only touch Peter's body when Peter's present, at least. ]
What if... I mean, if he knew why it's important to take care of those things and be allowed the privacy to do so, maybe it would help—? [ Luna isn't quite sure, but it's certainly something worth looking into. She pauses, peering up into Peter's eyes for a few moments. Is Paimon there—? There doesn't seem to be any movement to signify it, but she can't be completely sure. It would benefit Peter, and... would benefit Paimon too, in a way. It's... sound reasoning. ] I know it's not a perfect answer, but maybe it's something that might help a little bit—?
And... maybe if I'm there to help you with... that. Maybe that's... how you learn to be more comfortable with it, too. We don't have to rush anything, though. [ There's a soft exhale, the slightest hint of mirth in it. ] We've always done things at our own pace, I don't have any plans of changing that. I like how we can take our time with everything.
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Her back soon meets a space of wall in the hallway and he presses against her, offers a fresh wave of kisses. She feels drunk and hungry all at once, meeting the urgency of them with enthusiasm. Her arms reached up once more; one hand quickly gathering in the fabric of his shirt, the other sliding up to his face — keen to keep him close.
When he moves away she takes the moment to catch her breath, panting softly against the side of his head — clumsily presses a kiss there. It feels good, and she's falls into a short hush, enjoying the sensation of his mouth at her neck. His hand gently tugs at her thigh, moves it upwards, and she cracks open an eye curiously — it takes her a few long beats to work out what he's trying to do, oh. Oh, she knows what he's trying to do. She collects herself, focuses, hooks the lifted leg onto his waist. Her hands shift slightly, bracing herself onto his shoulders — squeezing briefly to signal, mentally counting to him. ]
« One, two.. » [ On three, she hops for him to catch her — lifting up her second leg to join the other about his waist, grips his shoulders for balance and presses her back into the wall to keep her steady. A laugh escapes her; it's clumsy and the slightest bit awkward trying to get their bodies organised, but it's exciting too — this is definitely bold. She likes bold very much.
... But then Luna realises what being like this means as he shifts closer, the new positions of their hips now the difference of height has been corrected. A soft whimper escapes her lips; a mix of realisation, relief and anticipation. As enjoyable as it is, there's a growing frustration of being able to hit the right angle while they've been standing.
But now, like this?
There's a tentative, slow roll of her hips; testing the new angle, and she's rewarded with the right enough friction in the right spot. There's another little whimper, this time out of pleasure. ... No, this is far better for them. She adjusts her legs; wrapping them tighter about his waist. Her thighs squeeze slightly, trying to coax him to grind into her with the tiniest mental plea: ]
« Please. »
no subject
And oh, this is something new: the same closeness as they often explore with each other, certainly Luna's legs have been wrapped around him before, but this is somewhere new entirely. Things feel different, her body feels different against his; his heart's pounding in his chest and ears as he stands there with his mouth pressed to the side of hers. That whimper exhales and Peter's swallowing, pleasantly dazed by her.
Then Luna's giving a slow movement of her hips, and Peter gasps quietly at the way the contact feels. His fingertips tighten against her as her legs wrap more firmly around him, locking him into place. She pleas in a way that threatens to drive him crazy, and he's immediately giving another soft exhale as he tilts his face into her neck, rolls his own hips up against her — slow and flush and careful as he feels her push back against the wall. The way it feels makes him give another little sound of his own. )
« Luna... » ( Her name is a thrum voiced in her mind, Peter finding himself some mix of contented and yet seeking more. There's a soft moan underlying his words, and he's opening his mouth against her neck, kissing wide and deep and hungry. ) « You feel so good. »
( It's not that he's completely forgotten about the demon. But while the thought of something of its own sentience inside of him while he's... making out with his girlfriend has routinely been a discomfort in itself, it's begun taking second place to another discomfort, over time. Which is the knowledge of the erratic nature of the thing, and to be so close to Luna — so physically close, if the demon were to have one of his moments of upset so suddenly, she could be.... hurt. Badly hurt. It's taken a long time for Peter to so comfortably be able to do this much with her, to press his mouth to hers like this, to exist with so little space between them, but he's developed a certain.... trust that the demon won't behave violently in the middle of their make-out sessions. Paimon does seem to... respect those times, and does also fear hurting Luna. Peter knows that.
And this is something they have done a lot of even without putting Paimon to "sleep". This making out, this... physical closeness. He's not quite worried about it right now; he knows Paimon won't lash out and hurt her. This isn't something that makes the demon upset.
Peter's rolling his hips against her again, and then again, slow but firm, kissing her neck with an increasing hunger, and a need for more. His head's filled with her, the way she feels and tastes and sounds, and the rolling motions are becoming firm rubbing movements up against her, feeling a pleasant heat blossoming from his belly, so warm and full of her but still seeking more. He's smiling inbetween his kisses, and giving soft gasps here and there, pleasantly dazed as he checks in on her. )
« Does this still feel good? »
no subject
But it soon melts into something more blissfully serene. He presses more kisses to her skin, slowly grinds his hips against her and she moans softly in thanks. Her hands move back to his hair, busying themselves once more in tangling up in his curls — slow grip and pulls here and there each time rolls his hips against her. Her hips work with him, meeting the pressure he gives — her breaths slowly but steadily growing harder, shivery on each exhale.
The friction borders on heavenly, and she whispers his name in reply over the mental connection — breathless with delight and want. She wants him. She wants him in ways that are more, wants him to touch her in ways that are more — like she does when she's alone. And it's a thought that makes her dizzy, makes her heart thud harder, makes her whimper softly once more in his ear. She answers without words, a short moan louder than she means to utter as his movements change — her head rolling back, bumping lightly against the wall behind her. Yes, it still feels good. It definitely feels good. ]
« Keep doing that. » [ The moan carries across in her words. Her legs tighten a little more around him, as if to emphasise her statement. Don't change anything; whatever he's doing right now, she wants him to continue it exactly as he is.
She doesn't quite realise she hadn't even said the password. Hadn't told Paimon to go to sleep so she and Peter could be alone. In truth, she has a sneaking suspicion Paimon might have left on his own accord. He's not interested in this, mostly. But he does understand that this is time for Luna, time for her to be alone with Peter and that it's important to her. It's something that makes her happy, and she knows that he does want that for her.
... But she doesn't particularly want to think on any of that, at any rate. Paimon hasn't been given much thought, not even when she and Peter were still talking to one another over the network. This is about Peter, getting time with Peter and enjoying it. And she is very much enjoying it, doesn't want it to stop. In fact: ]
« I— I want to finish. » [ Surprisingly polite, given her distracted mind as she fixates on sensation, and desperation of wanting him. Her cheeks burn a little with uttering it, even if it's only mentally. But she's... sure he'll understand what she means by it — what she wants. She can already feel a little pressure building in her from the friction of their movements. That heat that pools in her; she knows what it means — and she wants to keep chasing it. There's the gentle plea in her tone once more: ]
« I want you to make me finish, please. »
nsfw cw but in the form of: Peter getting scared of his own boner
And he's all too happy to keep doing that, pushing himself against Luna with deliberate motions, still slow but purposeful, grinding himself into her and letting the wall push back behind her, keeping her impossibly flush to his body. He's certainly no stranger to being affected by her, not when they live in the same space and are so often tangled up in one another, but he does try to be... careful about it. Of course he can't swallow things down fully, but he's all right, he thinks, he can pace himself. He buries his face in her and concentrates on the way she smells, and lets her feel the gentle ways she's affecting him — heat pooled downwards, how he fits against her a little warmer and tighter now.
Then comes that request, something new between the pair of them, and Peter's body ripples against her, eyelids fluttering gently against strands of her hair, fingers pressing firmer against her body. There's a soft exhale, shuddery, his heart skipping several heated beats at the words. Voiced so politely but with a plea, and Peter's sighing out her name again, practically melting from that request, from her. He'll happily oblige, with a thudding heart, with another push into her, a little faster, a little harder, as if in reply.
What he isn't expecting is what that request almost immediately does to his body. How fast he goes from 10 degrees — a comfortable, warm tightening, a hazy lull — to 100 degrees.
His hips have her pinned to the wall for that moment and Peter startles. Quietly at first, then with widening eyes and the softest gasp of realisation, a little dizzy. Suddenly— so suddenly, he's— oh god, full and twitching—
It's gently that he retracts from her, but something's clearly changed, something insistent, as he pulls his head back, still halfway hazy, eyes glossy but pinpricked with something fretful. His voice is a little hoarse, words coming out soft and awkward as his brain tries to pull itself from the spell, to be able to function. That request of hers has clearly affected him hard — in all meanings of the word. )
I'm sorry— We should— I should stop.
( It's not... the biggest deal that this has happened, really. But he seems almost spooked, trapped between the way his pounding heart felt so pleasant five seconds ago and the way it now feels more like a spike of anxiety. He's reacted so strongly to her, and this is all a new step for them, something pushed just a little bit past where they normally stop — there's a flood of thoughts and images in his mind. Concern about this setting off the demon somehow, or... concern that she'll be afraid of Peter himself.
Of course, the truth is that Paimon noped out well before this point — he was awake when they got home, and perking up at the thought of getting to wash fruits with The Girlfriend (exciting!!), only to slip into slumber as soon as the pair began getting amorous with each other (disappointing). And as to the other concern... it's impossible to hide as his body literally strains against him, the abrupt change from being buried against Luna to now trying to back away from her making it all the worse. Peter's still dizzy in his attempt to gently but insistently detach them from one another, fumbling as he tries to set her down, flushed and apologetic. )
cw the death of Luna's hopes of achieving an orgasm in the immediate future tbh
There's some hazy part of her that feels it, somewhat. That something's changed. And it still feels good. Something firm pressed against her, adding a little more pressure for her to grind against. She doesn't connect the dots straight away, concentrating on the sensation — belatedly realising that Peter's pulling back from her. Her eyes open, bleary and confused — half-lost in a little stupor of her own. ]
... W-what—?
[ She stumbles over the word, breathless and still confused as she turns her head to look at him. Stop? Now? Why do they have to stop? There's silent outcry in her face as she blinks quickly, trying to work out what's going on. The confusion shifts to upset. She doesn't want to stop, not when things are... going well—? This was nice, and good. And she thought maybe they were going to do something new, that he'd help her... finish. Part of her feels a strange kind of frustration, to have something pulled out of her grasp so suddenly.
But Peter's apologising, and it quickly sobers her. The upset in her expression shifts once more, to concern this time. She feels lost for a long moment, shake her head. He doesn't need to apologise—? Nothing's wrong, she doesn't think. But something's clearly wrong with him, the spooked look as he's trying to awkwardly go about putting her down.
And she ends up looking down, trying to work out where to put her feet as he moves to set her back onto the floor — only to notice exactly what's going on.
Luna freezes briefly, her eyes widening as her face goes from its pleasant flush to something much darker. It's... very noticeable, the tension in the fabric, how he desperately tries to pull his hips back, away, almost to hide it. Oh, so that's— that's... an erection. ]
Oh, you're— [ She doesn't dare finish the sentence out loud. It's probably for the best for both of them that she doesn't, but mostly for Peter's sake. But she doesn't look or sound too shocked, let alone even horrified by it. Surprised, yes. But, well— that's supposed to happen, isn't it? She's drawn mentally to her copious amounts of notes from Health Class, grounded by the fact it's... just a very typical bodily reaction...?
There's a few long and awkward moments as she tries to readjust herself, as she's lowered down — it's far worse getting them separated than it was getting them entangled against the wall in the first place, especially with his fumbling. But truthfully, there's some small part of her deep down that's quietly amazed: she did that, didn't she? Even with her feet finally on the floor once more, she finds herself staring down at him, despite her fluster. Perhaps... a bit too long. She's still red in the face when she drags her gaze back up to him. ]
It's alright, you're— [ It's fine. She's not upset, not in the slightest. ] Don't be sorry.
[ And she means that. But Merlin, is she a little weirdly frustrated, still. Her hands reach up to wipe at her face, scrubbing furiously for a beat or two. It's fine, she's fine. Maybe they did get too carried away—? Now it's her turn to be apologetic, maybe they pushed things a bit too far — but oh, Merlin, how much did she really want it. Hands framing her face, she turns away from him, as if to try and offer him a little modesty (a bit late for that, all things considered) — still rather flustered and breathless. She is... experiencing a lot of emotions all at once. ]
Did I... take it too far? I just— I was caught up in it all, I just— I wanted to.
hits this back just to further disappoint Luna as Peter tries to run away
He hasn't touched his own body in years. It's cold showers or rolling over in bed and squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his fingers slowly against his sheets to distract himself until his heart slows back down. Of course he thinks about her when he's alone, but even when he's alone, he doesn't allow himself to actually follow through on it. He flinches back from the thought of contact with himself. He still doesn't even like meeting his own gaze in the mirror.
And yes, he's grinded against Luna before and it's certainly sparked things in the moment before, but not like this. Holy shit self, can you calm down? What was it that set you off so suddenly...? Her request? Voiced like that, in a soft plea, the fact she wanted to keep getting that pleasure from you until she finished—
—Oh god, no, don't think about it—!
But Luna's looking down and turning red — 'Oh, you're—'
Peter's flushing too, still standing quite close as he's trying to sort out the detachment of them, both sets of feet on the ground now but everything's still strange and hazy as they've both so quickly literally been forced out of their blissful high with one another. His head's still buzzing with a mix of pleasant and horrified hum; and his eyes are widening with a fresh wave of the latter as she...... continues to stare down. Luna please don't make eye contact with it )
Ummmm— ( Peter says, helpfully, and sweeps his hand downwards, just trying to casually rest it against the front of his pants and conceal things a bit. ...It looks just as awkward as it sounds. As Luna turns away for a moment with palms framing her face, Peter takes a couple of steps back, heart still pounding in his ears, throat tightening with something that feels like upset. It's stupid for him to be. They've been living together for like a year, and while they're both new and shy about many things, it's always been fine; she's his best friend. She turned into a boy a few months ago and he gave her advice on what underwear to wear. There's no— shame about their bodies, even under the shyness.
No, this isn't really... shame. There's a dusting of embarrassment, but that's not the dominant emotion, either. It's.... something that feels more like fear, if Peter were to try and put a word to it. He's blinking against that emotion, trying to keep himself steady in the midst of this weird feeling of becoming overwhelmed, when Luna speaks up again and he's giving a soft exhale, surprised. )
Oh— no, it's not— not that. ( He's quick to try and reassure her, and he's realising exactly how this looks. Of course she might think he's backing off because this is too far. But it's not... like that, and his voice softens a little. )
I wanted it, too. I really liked it. I... I wanted to keep going. ( Saying it aloud makes his ears flush dark red all over again; the memory of the warmth of her body pressed to his own is so achingly fresh. The fact she'd wanted him to help her finish. )
I just— uh. Didn't expect to get so... worked up all of a sudden. ( The most polite way he can say it. Peter gives a little sound that tries to be an awkward laugh, but he still looks.... weirdly frightened. And apologetic, because poor Luna..... He dares to reach out with his other hand, kind of... awkwardly petting her shoulder before his fingers withdraw again. There's a tension, one that's almost palpable, like he wants to run. And then he voices it aloud, that he'll leave, because that's what he should do. (Right?) His heart's fluttering; he's already taking another step back. )
Sorry. I can um... like, leave.
how dare u do this to her
And she does remember the times he's politely excused himself, and she's suspected it's to go and calm himself down, when things have gotten a little bit heated between them. Or perhaps the closeness has gotten a little bit too close for comfort for him, considering his circumstances. She's had her suspicions, but she's usually held her tongue for his sake. It is a little bit embarrassing, admittedly. It's not like he can hide it so easily like she does — and Luna's very much understood that difficulty from her own time spent as a boy.
(And he is not really helping matters by trying to hide himself with his hand. You're just drawing attention to yourself, Peter.)
But, yes... there's curiosity, of course. She is still quite amazed that she kind of... caused this reaction. Maybe she did get a little carried away, she thinks. She's not really said something so pointedly like that before to him; even her own cheeks continue to burn a bit with that. ]
If you wanted to keep going, and I wanted to keep going, then...? [ There's a wide-eyed confusion to that, to his assurances. It had sounded like he wanted to keep going, she's sure of that. How he'd pressed into with more insistence, a little harder, faster. He'd wanted to keep going. So then...? The natural answer would be to... keep going...? ]
But... that's supposed to happen—? That's usual, though—? I do know what happens to a boy's body when they're... [ She swallows thickly, a little dizzy as she gestures towards him with a slight nod of her head. She trails off, but he'll understand what she's getting at. She's still a little internally frustrated and strange — it's jarring for them to go from being so blissfully entwined to... this. And well, truthfully could she really blame him for getting worked up so easily? The teasing over the network, the time with that in his mind before he returned home, the things she said.
But is this something she's supposed to be upset with him about? That he got... worked up like that? She's certainly not going to be upset about getting— well, aroused, considering what they were doing. She shifts one her hands slightly to peek round at him curiously. She is thankfully and politely keeping her gaze level at his face, not looking down at him again. She.. doesn't really understand, doesn't really understand much of this — why he looks so spooked. And she wants to understand it, wants to know what's wrong. ]
I'm... not upset that you were enjoying it.
[ Why would she be? Of course she wants him to enjoy things like this as much as she does, that's the whole point of it. They're enjoying it together. But Peter's offering to leave, stepping so awkwardly away from her. She doesn't want him to leave. Part of her worries if he does, then it might draw things to an immediate close. That he'd rather just not address things, what's going on here. She loves him, but Merlin knows he would happily bury his head in the sand and pretend this didn't happen, to not have to think about it. What will that mean for next time? Will they simply just repeat what's happened here? ]
No, don't— [ She shakes her head, moves her hands away fully from her face. Her brow furrows at him. She... doesn't want to leave this here. ] Could we... talk about this—? Please—?
[ There's a little pause before she adds: ]
If you would... prefer to go calm yourself down first, that's alright. But I... I would like to talk about this, about us.
operation: don't let Peter run away from his problems
'I'm... not upset that you were enjoying it.'
He's swallowing, that odd twinge of upset seeming to swell up a little bit, a tightness at the base of his throat. It's all heightened by the discomfort of his body — Peter giving a few awkward shifts here and there as he looks down at her. She's confused; he's confusing her, and he's sorry, brows knitting again, that odd tension still pressing against him. It's his natural way to react, to handle situations that feel uncomfortable — to leave. To excuse himself, to stop himself from causing any more problems, to hide—
But Luna's asking him not to, directly. To talk about it, please, and Peter gives a soft sound. A nod follows it, and he bites his lip. )
Yeah— Yeah, okay. Sorry, yeah— we can do that.
( He's flushed about the whole... calming down factor, but he's giving his head a soft shake. )
I'll be fine, I'll just take a sec and— meet you in the living room, if you want—?
( Peter hesitates, heart still fluttering in some strange way, and he's not sure if it's from the pleasant high from seconds before, or the waves of upset he's feeling. His hands shake, but just slightly. It's hardly noticeable, even when he reaches out to awkwardly give her shoulder a little squeeze — some... little attempt at reassurance. Then he's awkwardly kind of... stepping around her... and walking just as awkwardly towards the... kitchen?
It seems Peter has methods of "calming himself down", ones he's very familiar with. He's moving to the sink and running cold water for a few moments, leaning over it and taking some time to just stare at the water. Then he's gently pressing his palms to it and brushing some against his forehead and the backs of his hands. For good measure, he gently pats a little bit of cold water up under his shirt too, wincing a little at the feel of it on his stomach.
Fixing two glasses of ice water (...his own has extra ice in it), Peter takes his time, walking slowly around the kitchen a few times. It's a matter of...... getting the blood flowing other places. By the time he heads to the living room, it's been several minutes. The danger's maybe not... fully passed, but at least he's not....... quite so riled up. Ignoring his own body does wonders.
He sets down one of the glasses for Luna if she wants it and.... keeps his own held in his palms as he sits carefully down on one end of the sofa. )
So..... ( He starts, awkwardly, then gives a soft laugh and closes his eyes for a moment. He's nervous, one leg jiggling slightly as he peels his eyes open again and looks up at her. )
...Sorry. Um. You know... this has nothing to do with you, right? It's not... you. It's all me. I'm— I'm just really nervous. About... everything. And I don't want to like... freak you out or anything.
can't run away when Luna just laying it out like this
There's a short nod, actually looking relieved he's not immediately shutting this down to run off and hide about this. She wouldn't really blame him if he did, especially when he's... all worked up like this. It was a good idea to offer to let him go calm himself down first.
Luna's still flustered herself, swallowing and nodding again as she turns to retreat to the living room, smoothening down hair and clothing as she goes. She's still incredibly frustrated from the sudden stopping of it all, and while it's not obvious as poor Peter, she's definitely struggling with herself, too. Taking a moment to herself to sit down on the sofa, she promptly press a small cushion to her face and utter a soft whine into it. She's fine, it's fine. Everything is fine. She just has to... not think about it.
She'll just be sitting awkwardly until Peter returns, gratefully taking the ice water and discreetly trying to press the condensation of the glass to her palms and then her neck. Maybe, she thinks belatedly, she should have gone to splash her face in the bathroom while she waited for him. Her lips purse in the silence until Peter finally speaks up, gaze lifting up with wide-eyes to meet his. There's a slow nod; yes, she knows this isn't about her. She understands that, but her brow furrows slightly as he continues. ]
Peter, it's me. You don't need to be nervous. As I said, I know what happened can happen... is supposed to happen. So no, I'm not... 'freaked out'. [ There's a short pause before she adds quietly: ] I suppose in some way I'm quite.. flattered—?
[ Is that the right thing to say? She's not sure. But perhaps something to reinforce the idea that she isn't upset with him actually enjoying what happened, not to mention the thought of someone being attracted to her like that still feels... new, in some ways. Luna clears her throat, moving swiftly on: ]
I did get a bit carried away, getting caught up in the moment. We both did. I do like where we are with— [ she gestures vaguely. ] —romance. It's very comfortable. In the moment, I just... wanted more. I wanted to do more with you.
[ Although in truth it's not something that's contained to an intense moment, she's thought about it other times, too. ]
I've given it some thought for a while now, I just— [ Luna stops, frowning to herself — her gaze falling to her lap. She feels like she's beating around the bush, which isn't very much like her. She needs to just... spit it out. She remembers her conversation with Dirk, of course it's going to be awkward and nerve-wracking. But if they're both sitting down, willing to talk about this then she needs to just be out with it. ]
... I was going to make tea first. [ She murmurs it softly, more to herself than Peter. Like a quiet little afterthought. That was the plan, wasn't it? That she'd make tea before having a conversation like this. Curses. She inhales sharply, looking up once more at him. She's quite matter of fact with her words, uttering them quickly before she has the chance to falter. ] I'm going to be quite blunt about it: I would very much like for us to have sex at some point, whenever we feel ready for it, and the things that lead up to it, too. If... that's something you're open to experiencing with me.
And even if you never want to, that's alright with me. But I would like to know where our boundaries are, if that's the case. I think we should make that clear for both of our sakes.
"I had 2 hit this back............." is saved in my autofill... smh......
....Oh. Flattered. He flushes, ears lighting up like Christmas. Through all of the... awkwardness and discomfort, at the core of it, there's something still quietly happy and excited and pleasantly shy and hopeful and an abundance of other emotions that are surely normal things to feel when having experienced something new with your romantic partner. And he's still pleasantly dazed by the fact he was able to elicit such a reaction in her, too. It...feels nice, knowing that they made each other feel good like that. For a moment, Peter's able to let himself feel that, and he's actually smiling a little — still shy, an expression that almost cautiously seems to peek out at her, but it's genuine.
And he's listening as Luna continues, carefully turning his body to face her a bit more. She's on the precipice of something, and his brows are slowly lifting, attentive — this is shifting towards the kind of Talk he'd been quietly nursing within himself, too.
'... I was going to make tea first.' The softly-uttered remark has him blinking gently; he doesn't quite understand, but it doesn't feel like he needs to. He's well-used to Luna saying those little things, remarks that might seem like they belong somewhere else, but he knows they mean something to her as she sorts her thoughts out. He waits, patient and on the cusp of something nervous and eager all in the same vein, the pads of his fingers slowly rubbing against the cool sweat of his glass.
And then Luna's being quite blunt about it and saying what she says, and Peter goes stock-still. It's.... almost exactly what he'd have wanted to say, except of course it's so much more direct and eloquent than he ever could have made it. Luna just says it, and Peter's eyes are widening further, body giving a sudden little jolt that threatens to have him spilling his water. He flinches, leans forwards immediately to set his glass down, and then returns to his position with a grimace. )
Stupid.... ( As in, he's stupid, but he's soon enough adjusting his expression a little, even though his ears remain red. )
I um. Well, actually, I.... okay, wow. I am glad that you said all that, because I.... kind of have felt the same way...? ( His heart's pounding away again, with that same mix of nerves and excitement. She... wants to do more, too. She's been thinking about it. About him. )
If you... wanted to, I'd like to try more things too. And um. ( Shit, she really did just say everything that's he's wanted to and had no idea how. He's... awed? Like, wow? He is so immensely in love with you, Luna. )
I, um. I would also like exploring that. If you would want to. ...Sex, and things that lead up to it. I've been thinking about it for awhile, too. ( ....Luna wants to have sex with him and do things with him, please don't resurge, Boner, please don't resurge, he's going to die— )
...I just wasn't sure how to... talk about it. I didn't want to make you think that I wasn't happy with things the way they are, because I am? I really am. I'm happy... doing anything with you.
( Despite the... choppy, nervous way he speaks, there's something softening in Peter's eyes, and he gives a slow exhale as he leans across the little gap between them to find her hand, giving it a soft squeeze. This is.... wow??? For just a brief second, he's wondering what he was even worrying about this whole time? Luna's on the same wavelength, she's right there with him, and maybe it's awkward but it's also comfortable in the special way they are with one another, and he's young and he's in love and she wants to share more things with him.
....But there is more to it. More to why he hasn't brought this up, and why he'd gotten so..... afraid. Why his heart gives a sudden stagger, and this one's not from hazy pleasant adrenaline. This one hurts, feels like something claws its way down him.
Peter's hand loosens slightly, and then he's pulling back, something darkening in his features, an ache. He tries to voice it, sputters a little. He doesn't quite know how, and a large part of him just doesn't want to say the words at all. )
....I want those kinds of things with you... these kinds of things. ( The... closeness from moments ago, more close than they've been before. His body's still so fresh from it; still so warm from her. ) But I don't think... I should have them. Not when I'm... like this.
( Even now, he can't easily say the word, even when he knows it's his identity now. Possessed. Haunted, tainted, fucked up, filled up with something Else. Peter's not able to meet her eyes for the moment, slowly staring downwards instead. Once again, he's failing her, and it hurts to tell her this. It's hurting more and more with each second, his voice falling to a hush. He wishes he could be someone else. )
With........ you know. With him, inside me.
and then it takes me a month to get back to it :')
And it's hard to refrain from looking hopefully excited by that prospect; her mouth quivering, lips wanting to burst out into a huge beaming smile — the excitement mixing in with the little burst of adrenaline for being blunt and just coming out with it. He wants these things, too. And she's delighted by that, uttering a soft shaky exhale gently voiced with a laugh. She's... holding herself back, though. Mostly because even as delighted and exhilarated she is, this is a serious conversation — perhaps it's best to rein in the glee a little bit. ]
It's not really the easiest thing to talk about in general, let alone when it's us. [ There's a nervous kind of energy of her own, excitable. Even if she's trying her best to keep composed, it seeps through — fidgeting with her glass for a few moments. She shakes her head slightly. ]
I never thought that, that you might be unhappy with things not being more. I suppose I didn't want to push too far, more than what you're comfortable with. I like where we are, too.
[ She understands it can be a lot, for both of them, but more so with Peter. That closeness with another person, considering everything. It's something she's always been very considerate of. She's been content with where they are, just pressing a little bit further each time. But the problem is that neither of them have known whether there would be a limit to that, or if the other wanted to keep going. And as much as they do talk about things, this is just.... something big, isn't it? It is awkward, a bit. But they've never shied away from having conversations, it just feels like another one of those.
It seemed all that was needed was for her to put the words out there for him, to give voice to the things it seems they've both wanted — a gentle (and blunt) nudge in the that direction. He reaches for her hand and she grins a little, her heart still fluttering pleasantly — she feels.... very fortunate to have found him. To find someone she would love and trust with this.
But it's short-lived. He pulls away, his expression shifting. Luna's smile dims, and he's looking away from her: But I don't think... I should have them. Not when I'm... like this. She inhales softly, her brow furrowing into quiet sadness. Oh, Peter. No. She puts her own glass down and reaches back for his hand once more, if he'll let her. ]
You're allowed to have these things.
[ She's not sure who's permission he needs. If it's hers or his own. But if it's hers, she'll give it. He is allowed these things with her, she wants him to have these things with her because if they're hers to give — she'll give them to him. She doesn't want to share them with anyone else. There's a short pause as she considers for a moment, quietly thoughtful. ]
... Granted I know your situation is complicated, and it's easy for me to say you're allowed when I'm not the one with a demon inside me. But you are allowed to have this... this intimacy with me. [ He has her permission; it's what she wants. ]
I look at you, and I see you. Not both. You're the one I want to share this with. Not him. This is just for us. [ So much of them is blurred into one, so much of them is shared — between demon and vessel. Luna tries to draw the lines between them, the boundaries. Paimon has things that are his alone, and so does Peter. Sometimes there's things that can't be separated, but they can have this. ]
But you need to allow yourself, too.
it's okay nothing can be slower than Peter's Progress
But he can't help feeling it for a moment, an upset shaped into the form of 'this isn't fair'. The relief to hear that each other feels the same way, the gentle assurances: they're both happy with where things are, but they also would like to explore more, together. It all flickers away as soon as he says what he does, and as he watches Luna's face change along with it, and he hates that he's brought something sad and heavy to such a nice moment. Maybe he should've waited for a bit longer before voicing that part, allowed them time to just... be happy.
But he can't. It weighs too heavy, and he can't.... let Luna think he's something that he isn't.
She's reaching to take his hand back, and he lets her, fingers curling gently around hers again, but something in his body is loose and limp. 'You're allowed to have these things.'
It should be assuring, and maybe on one level it is, but on another level, something is sinking within Peter. His frown grows deeper, eyes soft and sad as he listens. He is listening, he hears what she's saying. He understands what she means and he wants to lean into the warmth of those words, wants to let his heart be warmly held by them. But.... something quietly fretful grows in him, and he's turning slowly to face Luna even more, one leg tucked under. )
I know what you're saying. I— I believe you. But it's just...
( He hesitates, unsure how to put it into the right form, and once again, not wanting to. He doesn't want to say any of this and he looks miserable as he speaks. )
....Even if we... use the password, put him to sleep, he's not— he's not really gone. You know? He's still here.
( The words come slowly and he's not looking at her at first, but eventually, his eyes drag back upwards, feeling a little bit hot at the corners. )
I know you're not.. afraid of me. Of being... close to me. I know. But.... isn't it weird, to think about him...inside me? I mean, my body, it's— it's like— ( His other hand moves towards himself as though in gesture, fingers drifting down his side, but not touching. There's a wince, like he doesn't want to think about actually touching it at all. Like he's come close to touching something unpleasant. And there's a word he thinks to describe himself with, but he's never said it aloud, and it hurts to say it now. Peter swallows hard, and keeps wishing he could be different. )
It's disgusting.
not you roasting your own character in the tag lines
You are not disgusting.
[ Not to her, never to her. Even when she knows he's capable of some less than pleasant things: the conjuring of ants, of other creepy crawlies, the cold sweats in the middle of the night that he wakes from shaking. The side-effects of both his blood and his current condition. The fact that some ancient demonic entity rests within him. She has never thought of him disgusting, never shuddered away from him repulsed to be with him.
No, it's not fair. Not fair that they've gone from what they were doing to this. It's not fair that Peter feels in such away about himself, about his own body. It's not fair how they have to fight so hard for their happiness; they've done enough fighting. It's not fair they can't have peace. But she will continue to fight for him. She won't have him thinking like that about himself. She doesn't want that for him. ]
... You know when I asked you to take your shirt off for me? For the first time, back in Deerington? Do you know what was the first thing, the only thing I could think—? [ Even now she can remember it; she can still picture the pleasantness, the haziness of an afternoon on Valentine's Day. How she's been sat in his lap, pink-cheeked and shy — asking politely to see him without his shirt on. How she'd stared with a sense of wonder. ]
I thought you were beautiful.
[ She squeezes his hand gently, mouth upturned in upset. She can feel pin-pricks of tears in the corners of her eyes but she fights to keep them at bay, wills herself not to cry. He's beautiful to her. Beautiful to gaze upon, to touch, to be with. She's never wanted someone as much in her entire life. She wants to be able to share so many things with him, share herself with him. He's beautiful, and he makes her feel beautiful, too. ]
For as much as you are together, you are also separate. I don't think about him, because I don't want to think about him when I'm with you. I just want to think about you, you're the one I want.
If I couldn't bring myself to be with you, I would have told you long ago.
[ If it was too much, if she couldn't separate the two. If she wasn't able to be with Peter in the physical ways of their relationship, she would have told him long ago. She would have told him the truth. ]
Is.. is that how you feel about yourself, when you're with me? Do you think you're disgusting?
[ It isn't accusatory, not in the slightest. But there is something wrong here, and she wants to try and fix things — to find some kind of solution. It's a genuine question, trying to find where that line of thought about his body begins and ends. ]
no subject
You are not disgusting.
There's a pinprick moment of shame because Peter knows he's affected by those words, knows it shows so painfully in his features. He feels them come undone a little, eyes suddenly much more moist and face tight, trying to keep something pushed back that's been kept pushed back for a very long time. He's ashamed because he knows telling her such a thing would hurt her, and he can see that it does, see how it affects Luna too. It's there in her eyes and her voice, doses of upset. He's listening, trying to keep himself calm and still but there's a soft sound as she continues: something that's a mixture of a breath, a whimper, an exhale.
I thought you were beautiful.
He remembers the moments she's referring to. Some things get lost over time for him, especially him — but some things don't. That Valentine's Day is one of them; he remembers the details, the flurry of shy nerves and the happiness that followed. He'd sang her a song and she'd wanted to see him. He'd seen her, too: both of them gently going a little bit further, bold and shy and comfortable. He was so nervous but so was she — her scars exposed for him. It was some turning point in their intimacy together, something new opened up between them. ....He learned the word 'snog'. They kissed and kissed until they ended up moving to the bed to drift asleep, tangled lazily in one another. It was a good, good day.
Peter's closing his eyes again for a moment and gives a soft shuddery breath, a little overwhelmed. Beautiful. No one's ever, ever called him that. It feels like some word that simply never... belonged to him; why would it? It was never meant for him. Hearing Luna say it now... he almost doesn't know how to take it, throat tight. He's not moving, just listening, and he does believe everything she's saying. Peter's fears about Luna someday resenting him haven't simply... vanished, but they have taken on a different form, over time. He knows Luna wouldn't do something she didn't want to do, wouldn't be with him if it was forced, if it took away from who she was. That isn't... how she is. She wouldn't. And there's been a certain reliance in that, for this person who is so authentically herself, who would never let even him, and what's wrong with him, compromise that. He trusts that about her. He does. It's so... different from how his family functioned, but he's been learning. Trying to learn.
It's the next part. It's exactly what she asks next. Peter finally crumbles that last bit, unable to keep it back anymore. Physically, he's crumbling inwards, body going looser, head dipping down a bit. His hands go completely slack against hers. )
I do— I am. ( Disgusting. ) I can't stand— looking at myself, seeing myself. I don't like it. I don't like— the way I feel. My body, my skin—
( He's never voiced any of this aloud, and each word feels like a shard of glass, splitting off as something breaks. Again, shame leaks through; he knows they've been together for a while now, there are things they've been growing and progressing through, and he feels like he's just... ruining it. )
I keep... trying. To see this as something that's just... I just have to live with it. I'm just like this and I'm always going to be, but— I still feel so wrong. ( Peter's eyes are squeezing shut and he can feel that he's starting to cry a little, and he feels stupid and weak, voice watery and shaking by this point. )
I'm sorry. I'm not trying to— ruin things. I'm happy with you. I'm so happy. I'm just— I'm not happy with me.
oops i slipped 🔪
And for a long time too, all she can do is be silent. Luna feels at a loss. She doesn't quite know how to help him, doesn't know how to make these thoughts go away. How to make him not think like this. The truth is she knows she can't change his situation, she can't undo the things that have been done to him. She can't take away the fact that he and Paimon are... stuck together, indefinitely. That the demon swallows so much of him.
... But this isn't about Paimon, it's about Peter. If it weren't for Peter, she wouldn't have bonded with Paimon. Peter has always been her driving force, fuelled by the love she has for him. But of course, there had to be something there to love about him in the first place, hadn't there? ]
... I wish you could see yourself how I see you. [ It's uttered in a hushed voice. Yes, there is hurt. Hurt because she's sorry he feels in such a way, sorry that even though he's trying it's still hard for him to see himself as anything but wrong. Sorry that there's shame in his face, in his eyes. She grips his hands gently, shakes them slightly once — she's here, she sees him. ]
I see you. And I like that I see you, I like looking at you. I like how you feel. That you're gentle, and warm, and wanting, and that there's so much love in you. That's how to feel to me.
[ The reasons why she loves him. Some of them. The things he keeps buried within him so often, but she gets to see. Things she saw when pressed against the wall with him only a short time ago. The gentleness to him, the warmth of him towards her, how openly he wants her — how they form something comfortable and safe. How he is beautiful to look at, something precious she feels incredibly privileged to see. ]
To me, being with you is right. You've never been something wrong, or disgusting. Even with everything, you're still you — the person that's beautiful to me. I trust myself with you, you're the one I choose for this, to be intimate with.
[ And it is not a choice she would make so lightly. But she knows he would be gentle with her, and patient and warm and wanting, and it would never be anything other than what he's already shown her. It would always be the two of them, with their shy smiles and sounds of mirth and softly wanting one another. That's what she chooses for herself, in him. And it's what she wants him to have with her. ]
It's hard, trying by yourself. But I'm here too. I'm with you through this. If you let me— [ She's not sure how to word it. Let her show him, perhaps—? She doesn't know exactly with that. ] maybe you could learn how to be happy with yourself, maybe you could learn to see yourself how I see you.
[ She will always be here with him, will always be beside him to love him, to like him, to want him. To look at him, to touch him. If he can't do it for himself, she'll be there with him to do it for him until one day he might be able to love and like himself. He doesn't have to be alone in learning how.
There's a pause, her brow furrowing slightly. She's thoughtful for a long moment before she offers him a kind smile. She knows what she's saying is a huge ask. These things are not so easily undone, to think of himself in another way isn't so simple. Sometimes things can't always change, or they can't change fully. Luna accepts how difficult this will be for him, with everything. With all he has to deal with. ]
And... if it's something you don't think you could manage, if it's too difficult— if us going further is too much— then that's alright with me, too. [ Which is to say those kinds of intimacy with him, those physical aspects — things like having sex with him, getting to explore those things together with him. It is not the be all and end all within their relationship. Where they are now is comfortable, and good. She gets to kiss him and hold him and sleep curled up, tangled up in him. She gets to learn new things about Muggles, spend time, and laugh and smile with him. She gets to feel safe and loved by him.
Those are the important things, she thinks. If Peter can't ever bring himself, if he's unable to find himself ready or comfortable with himself to do those things — then that's alright with Luna. She doesn't need those things. And besides, they've always done things their own way, haven't they? They've chosen what's for them and what isn't. If things like sex isn't for them, then it isn't for them. ]
You could never ruin this. [ She wants to assure him of that. He's not ruining anything. She's glad he's saying these things to her, that he trusts her with these thoughts, these feelings he harbours inside of himself. She scoots a little closer to him, close enough for their knees to almost touch. One hand reaches for his face, her fingers brushing against his cheek — it's such an common, easy gesture between them now. No, he could never ruin it. ]
... And if things change, if you feel like you can be with me in the ways you want... [ If he wants to try things—? If he does feel able to. ] You just... tell me, and I'm right there with you.
it's been a week and my heart ain't recovered from that stab wound ಠ⌣ಠ
He just sits there for a few moments, giving a soft sniffle. At the root of his upset is that fear that he might be ruining some part of this, which maybe has always seemed inevitable — he ruins everything, doesn't he? Eventually, he does.
But he doesn't keep rambling about that fear. Instead, he listens to what Luna says when shespeaks again — telling some of the ways she sees him, as something warm and gentle, something good. Something with love inside of him. Peter gives another shuddery exhale, throat tightening up hard and fast. He's always wanted to be something like that for her, because he's learned it, finally — what it means to want to be something warm and safe for someone because you love them, so much. Hearing Luna voice it, reiterate that he's like that for her... it means everything, even through all of the ways he struggles to see himself like that.
And then she offers it, something to that — to helping him with himself, and he swallows again as he continues to listen. This whole thing isn't him shutting down on her or backing away — he doesn't want to go backwards. Nothing in him wants that. It's just that he doesn't know how to go forwards, but... she's offering help with that, and not only help but understanding. And assurance that it's okay not to go further, they don't have to. It's okay.
Peter finally looks back up at Luna as her hand reaches for his face, fingertips gentle against the curve of his cheek. 'You could never ruin this.' One way or another, no matter how he needs to be: trying or not trying to advance in certain intimate aspects, even trying and needing to back down again, it's... okay. It's safe, they're safe and secure with however they are, whenever it happens, however it happens. He can't ruin this, and she's right there with him no matter what.
It's... acceptance. Whole and unconditional. And Luna's always been that for him, even from very long ago back when they were each other's best friend before they were anything else, but it's still a concept that Peter's.... stunned by, and it hits him again now, in sweeping waves. He's closing his eyes, tilting his face against her palm, feeling himself crying quietly. It's so different from what he always knew: toeing around saying the wrong thing, living like an unwanted guest in his own home, seeking sanctuary in his room just so he wouldn't be in the way. Knowing there was a risk of ruining everything — and he had, he'd ruined it. Peter knows what it is to no longer be looked at or loved the same way you once were, because you ruined something. And there are still unknowns at play, frightening outcomes that could happen within his and Luna's relationship: Paimon could get worse, and Peter could get worse as a result. This place itself could do something to either him or Luna (and ironically, sometime soon, it will, drawing out some of the worst things they could ever say to one another, and even that much won't be able to ruin what they have together).
Peter's crying softly for a little, hand moving up to cup hers, brushing it gently. When he finally opens his eyes again, he's nodding, slowly. )
Thank you. I—I want to. To be with you more, and.... try to learn. How to be.. happy with myself. ( His voice cracks a little at the word — it does hurt his own heart that he isn't. That he can barely look at himself, much less think about.... touching himself, and not just in quiet, intimate ways, but those are certainly a part of it, too. )
Maybe we can... do that. Together. ( He doesn't know exactly what that would entail either, but it makes him a little flushed all the same, the thought of it. Maybe it's exploring things in a way that's a little different sometimes, pieces of bodies and even slower touches and getting used to what it feels like to know exactly how his body feels. How it works. How it.... is his, even with so much within it that doesn't feel like his.
But if he learns, how to be happy with himself, then he can be happy with her. Show her even more love and warmth and affection, and that's what's always driven him through it all. His love for Luna. He's sniffling a little wetly again, before he speaks up again. )
I haven't even... um. When things like that happen, like earlier, when I— ( He blushes slightly, gives the softest sound, ) —I haven't even.... taken care of things like that. Not for years.
...It's just so hard, and.... creepy. Thinking about something inside of me, just.... watching what I'm doing all the time. ( Peter has no idea that Paimon pretty much nopes out as soon as there's any little sparks of desire, because the demon is actually quite uncomfortable by it.... There's some deep irony here; neither of them feel completely at home or comfortable in his body. )
And I know we can't just... ask him to go away every single time we want to do anything. But it's just... ( Peter sighs, softly. ) ....Even now he's probably listening to all this.
( He's... not, actually! Paimon shut down long ago, when it became apparent that they were not going to wash vegetables with Luna and instead were going to Do Intimate Affection Things. )
well it's been six months so maybe you're recovered now.......
And he is very much those things for her. These are the things she sees in him, the things he makes her feel for her. There's nothing difficult in her being able to tell him those things, especially not when they're assurances he needs to hear. So much is said between them without words. They aren't needed. But sometimes they are needed. Knowing something and hearing it are two different things, powerful in their own ways.
Of course she accepts him, her expression softening as his eyes close and he tilts into her palm — tears spilling down his cheeks. Her thumb brushes gently against his skin, wiping those tears away the best she can. She doesn't believe they're something so easy to ruin. Of course there's been difficult things between them (and likely will be many more things to come) but they... they work things out. That's what you do when things go wrong, that's what you do for the people you love. ]
The fact you want to try is an amazing thing in and of itself. [ And of course it deserves praise. She likes getting to touch him, not just in the more intimate ways she'd like to have but even now, just getting to touch his face. Her palm to his cheek, brushing his tears away. She feels incredibly honoured to get to do so, that someone would let her, would be happy to. ]
I'd very much like that. [ Offered gently, with a small smile. ] We're a team, remember? It still applies with things like this. We can work it out together, if that's what you want. And it doesn't make you anything less if it's too difficult.
[ His admission does make her stop, though. Her expression shifting into... a quiet concern, more than anything. Not for years. It's more sobering than anything else. Of course this place, and even Deerington, doesn't allow much space for trying to relax or look after oneself — but even she's managed to... address those certain needs. Some rare moments on occasion she can just take care of things of that nature. It's much like any other need, like food or bathing. ]
Oh, Peter— [ Her mouth opens, then closes. ] but it's so important to take care of those things.
[ She isn't trying to chastise him. Merlin knows just how deeply complex anything like that would be in his shoes. But in a lot of ways it's... a self-soothing kind of thing. It's comfort. It's trying to relax. Although she does realise how deeply uncomfortable Peter is within himself, how could he even manage something like that with how things are for him?
She's quiet for a long moment, considering things. Certainly Paimon is... very much aware of the world around him, including just about everything Peter does. But... even something like this? Granted the demon does not want to be around when the two of them are kissing, he does understand it's a kind of privacy reserved for her and Peter. Surely the same idea would extend to this, too? ]
I imagine he's... quite possibly not all that interested in— [ She gestures towards the door, towards the hallway. ] that sort of thing. I mean— he's a demon, they don't really think how humans do.
[ But even Paimon does understand there's specific ways Luna will only touch Peter's body when Peter's present, at least. ]
What if... I mean, if he knew why it's important to take care of those things and be allowed the privacy to do so, maybe it would help—? [ Luna isn't quite sure, but it's certainly something worth looking into. She pauses, peering up into Peter's eyes for a few moments. Is Paimon there—? There doesn't seem to be any movement to signify it, but she can't be completely sure. It would benefit Peter, and... would benefit Paimon too, in a way. It's... sound reasoning. ] I know it's not a perfect answer, but maybe it's something that might help a little bit—?
And... maybe if I'm there to help you with... that. Maybe that's... how you learn to be more comfortable with it, too. We don't have to rush anything, though. [ There's a soft exhale, the slightest hint of mirth in it. ] We've always done things at our own pace, I don't have any plans of changing that. I like how we can take our time with everything.