[ peter nureyev has no interest in bleeding a creature like nightwing out on the floor. this city benefits from him, from what he does. to nip that out of existence would be such a waste, painfully so. peter flexes his fingers a bit around the knife, adjusting his grip in dick's own as he presses a little closer, leans in so the space about them is that much tighter. he's aware of what the edge on his grip means, what the glancing moonlight flirting over his eyes means.
his hold on the knife is resolved, even moreso when a mouth presses to his and leaves him thinking only of just how hungry he is. there's the chase, the adrenaline, the flirtation on the edge of a building, and there's this, like clinging to an edge of common sense and a free fall. peter is well aware of the difference, balance and completely surrender.
his free hand slips over the warm contour of where his chest rises, acutely aware of how the heat bleeds into his palm, how the arduous sensation of dick's mouth against his reels him in like a well-laid snare. peter pulls a fraction of a breath away from his mouth, laughing warmly. ]
I can't say I particularly enjoy it... but I certainly don't mind when it's you doing the catching. You always make it fun.
[ it's dangerous, but god if peter doesn't like that.
the fingers around his wrist loosen and he sighs against the shape of the kiss, shifting his hand over, pressing the heel of his palm to where dick's pulse strikes hard against his throat. the flat of the blade brushes but never nicks the surface of the skin, stays there, cool and silent as peter bears in closer, as if he's trying to practically slide into every space around him that isn't yet occupied. nothing about tonight was supposed to really go like this, but peter can't say he doesn't like this direction, this little fork in the road.
when he pulls back again, he presses the pad of his thumb to where his lips dip just slightly, smearing the vague shadow of pigment that he's left behind across dick's mouth. he can feel the faint shape of a smear just on the edge of his own lips, disturbed, pushed. he meets those eyes, blue and hardly balking, with his own, and he smiles, just as sharply as before. ]
I take it your plans of bringing me in have ground to a halt for now, Nightwing? [ another press, closer, a thigh between the warmth of his legs, pushing up, leaning in. ]
no subject
his hold on the knife is resolved, even moreso when a mouth presses to his and leaves him thinking only of just how hungry he is. there's the chase, the adrenaline, the flirtation on the edge of a building, and there's this, like clinging to an edge of common sense and a free fall. peter is well aware of the difference, balance and completely surrender.
his free hand slips over the warm contour of where his chest rises, acutely aware of how the heat bleeds into his palm, how the arduous sensation of dick's mouth against his reels him in like a well-laid snare. peter pulls a fraction of a breath away from his mouth, laughing warmly. ]
I can't say I particularly enjoy it... but I certainly don't mind when it's you doing the catching. You always make it fun.
[ it's dangerous, but god if peter doesn't like that.
the fingers around his wrist loosen and he sighs against the shape of the kiss, shifting his hand over, pressing the heel of his palm to where dick's pulse strikes hard against his throat. the flat of the blade brushes but never nicks the surface of the skin, stays there, cool and silent as peter bears in closer, as if he's trying to practically slide into every space around him that isn't yet occupied. nothing about tonight was supposed to really go like this, but peter can't say he doesn't like this direction, this little fork in the road.
when he pulls back again, he presses the pad of his thumb to where his lips dip just slightly, smearing the vague shadow of pigment that he's left behind across dick's mouth. he can feel the faint shape of a smear just on the edge of his own lips, disturbed, pushed. he meets those eyes, blue and hardly balking, with his own, and he smiles, just as sharply as before. ]
I take it your plans of bringing me in have ground to a halt for now, Nightwing? [ another press, closer, a thigh between the warmth of his legs, pushing up, leaning in. ]