i slither into you. with every thrust your eyes change to a new color.

[blood_kink]

Things were weirdly... normal. Well, as normal as could be for them these days. For them being what they were, for all that's happened between them. Roman knew that Peter was having a hard time. He didn't know what it was, but he could tell when there were times when he was anxious, when his pulse raced and he sat tense or paced the floors. Or left for a while. He let him have that space even though sometimes he couldn't help a nagging fear that when he left, something would happen and he might not come back.

He'd always come back to him up till now, but there've been times when he'd really thought he'd seen the last of him. Now, there's all that leftover worry from when he thought he'd really lost him, when it turned out that Olivia had taken him. He still hadn't really recovered from seeing Peter in that cage so small he hadn't been able to stand, clothes torn and hands bloody from how hard he'd tried to escape. That's in the past now, but Roman has this feeling that there's something going on, but he doesn't ask what it is. He just tries to trust that if he wants to, he'll bring it up himself.

So things carry on, almost normal. Lynda helps with the Adara now that she's been cleared of charges, and Roman sometimes wonders what life would have been like if Olivia had been more like her. Watching her cradle the baby, or sit on the floor playing with her, and Roman doesn't remember being that young but he's still certain Olivia had never done any of those things.

One night a couple of weeks back, after everyone else had gone to bed, Peter and Roman had settled down on one long sofa to flick through tv, try and find a shitty horror movie to watch and mock, and had landed on some old B-Movie called From The Void that was just remarkably full of vaguely horrific, entirely surreal erotic situations. And since then, it had sort of become a running joke between them. When one or the other of them would think up a good one, they'd text it to the other. Peter has started texting them when Roman's in meetings and, well, he'd be in real trouble if he didn't own the company, because he's unable to read most of them without laughing.

However, as the messages have been sent back and forth, they've started to get more. Well. Real.

Some highlights from the past several days:

Peter: if u like piña coladas / and fear the thing in the drain

Roman: with every thrust your eyes change to a new color

Peter: i vanish like a cheshire cat leaving only my smiling lips wrapped around ur dick

Roman: u touch my hand & every dog within a hundred miles starts to whimper. they know what u are

 
Tonight, they're occupying separate sofas in the same room. Everyone's asleep, again, which seems to be a trigger for late night bullshit. Movies have become a thing, but so has drinking and getting high and just laying tangled together and talking. Right now, they're not there yet. Roman's laying flat on his back with his iPad propped up on his chest, flicking through something he'd found online and Peter... well, God knows what he was doing before he sent a text. 

From across the room. 

As if they couldn't just talk to each other out loud. Roman hears the ding and doesn't even look at it first, just turns his head to the side and catches Peter's gaze with his and makes a face that just says really. 

Then he reads it.


Peter: my skin cant contain my love 4 u

Is that how it is, now? Roman's mouth curves into a mischievous grin as he shoots off a text that's a little too close to home, but this is a game and it's safe to tread too close to reality because it's all bullshit anyway.


Roman: i slither into you

Comments

[blood_kink]

Hearing Peter is going to do him in. The sound that comes against his shoulder doesn't muffle but vibrates across his skin. He can feel Peter from the inside, how he tenses and tries to relax, and where Roman fails in restraint, he makes up for in pure adaptability. The single, relatively slender tentacle has give when Peter tenses, when he goes so impossibly tight, and it's good that he started with this one rather than the larger one.

Roman rubs a hand over the small of his back, a slow circle that's soothing and at the same time, guides him to move. Peter's rocking in his lap, clearly wanting it even though it's a struggle right now and fuck if that's not the hottest thing he's seen. He's had other people on his lap before, but it was before, he wasn't the way he was now back then. He'd come to terms with the reality that he'd have to extaz someone into not noticing this if he intended to fuck anyone and have the entire focus of it to not be them freaking out, but Peter is so far from freaking out that he almost doesn't feel the thrumming ache for blood.

Almost.

Peter goes boneless in his lap, curled loose around his shoulders and breathing soft and shallow as he kisses him and Roman's struck at once with how fragile he seems, which is so strange because he knows more than most how resilient he is, how he can tear his way out of his body again and again like an endless escape from his skin.

He wants it all he says, and it's barely a heartbeat after he's said the words that the waiting tentacle slips in. It goes in easier than Peter might have imagined or feared, slipping in along side the first, occasionally coiling around its twin inside him, twisting slow and sinewy. Peter wants it all, and oh, but Roman wants to give it all to him. All of it, now, wants to push deep inside him and feel how he writhes to take it... but he's not. Not yet. Gives him time for the second one, and shit, but the fucking restraint it takes not to has one hand curled into a fist, nails digging into the meat of his palm, fist resting against Peter's hair, against his shoulder.

There's a slightly cool, oddly damp feeling over his shoulder blade as Roman's fingernails cut into his skin and blood trickles down over Peter's tanned skin. Roman knows, he can feel the slow seep of it, and his hand slips down in it, smearing it purposefully.