Just another Petlar drabble
Peter took that lower lip between his teeth and ran his tongue back and forth across the trapped swell of flesh. He tasted and sucked and pulled at it, skillful lips of his own adding to the mix. Gabriel groaned aloud and ground his hips forward against a different swell of flesh, his hands clenching on Peter’s buttocks. When he was released, Gabe breathed, “Oh, Peter. You are a saint. You are perfect. You are everything. Oh God …”
Peter grinned, his mouth now against the man’s neck.
“I want you,” Gabriel concluded huskily.
Just what I wanted to hear.