It's a simple request, but it's like it's the thing that Peter has been dying to hear. His body is shaking, and more than anything he just wants to throw himself at Roman. But he doesn't. Instead, he spends a few short moments kicking his jeans to the floor, and pulling his shirt off over his head. Thankfully Peter hated shoes, and wore them as infrequently as possible. He's standing naked, his cock aching, and there's a moment, as he starts closing the distance, where his eyes flash gold through the dark strands of his bangs.
He's across the distance in two bounds of bare feet. And that's when the lunge comes, when his hands catch on Roman's shoulders, and he all but climbs onto him, into his lap, letting his cock press into the other teen's hip. He's breathing heavily and he nestles his head just beneath Roman's collarbone with a low murmur, almost a whimper. He's clinging to him, in what has become a not altogether strange turn of events, but the situation, the reason for it is.
He had seen it. Before he moved, when he'd been watching from across the distance. The way that there wasn't the outline of a cock in Roman's pants, but a wriggling, something almost serpentine. One hand reaches down between their bodies, stroking over Roman's groin, touching, his blue eyes looking up at him, and it's more awe than fear.
"I want you," he breathes it like a secret, like a universal truth. "Want to feel you inside me." Tentacles and all. In the dream, one had been larger than the other two, and while he'd done his best sucking on it, he was a little bit timid about the idea of trying to get it to fit inside of him. He trusted Roman, even if everyone looked at him like it made him a grade-A moron. Roman was different.
He tried to trace the outline of the moving shafts, touch each of them, learn the shape and feel, even through the cloth barrier. His other hand tugged at Roman's shirt, pulling with a lazy grin curving his mouth that was an unspoken request for there to be less clothes involved in this. He wanted Roman naked, he wanted to be naked on top of him, feel those tentacles on bare skin.
Roman's skin was like ice, and it was soothing, the contrast to how Peter was nearly burning.
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He's across the distance in two bounds of bare feet. And that's when the lunge comes, when his hands catch on Roman's shoulders, and he all but climbs onto him, into his lap, letting his cock press into the other teen's hip. He's breathing heavily and he nestles his head just beneath Roman's collarbone with a low murmur, almost a whimper. He's clinging to him, in what has become a not altogether strange turn of events, but the situation, the reason for it is.
He had seen it. Before he moved, when he'd been watching from across the distance. The way that there wasn't the outline of a cock in Roman's pants, but a wriggling, something almost serpentine. One hand reaches down between their bodies, stroking over Roman's groin, touching, his blue eyes looking up at him, and it's more awe than fear.
"I want you," he breathes it like a secret, like a universal truth. "Want to feel you inside me." Tentacles and all. In the dream, one had been larger than the other two, and while he'd done his best sucking on it, he was a little bit timid about the idea of trying to get it to fit inside of him. He trusted Roman, even if everyone looked at him like it made him a grade-A moron. Roman was different.
He tried to trace the outline of the moving shafts, touch each of them, learn the shape and feel, even through the cloth barrier. His other hand tugged at Roman's shirt, pulling with a lazy grin curving his mouth that was an unspoken request for there to be less clothes involved in this. He wanted Roman naked, he wanted to be naked on top of him, feel those tentacles on bare skin.
Roman's skin was like ice, and it was soothing, the contrast to how Peter was nearly burning.