Don't think of it as that, Felicia. I'm just withholding info, giving you something you can steal.
[ In whatever way she chooses... from a number of ways across Peter's vivid imagination. So vivid it's almost paralyzing, really, that the anticipation compels him to stick to the peppering of chaste kisses that he started with. Not so much because that's all he knows how to do, but because in his own way, he's just damn nervous. They've had all this time, all these coffee dates and well-intentioned heists, to get comfortable with each other again. To sit with each other's flaws, poke fun at each other for every stupid little thing, and yet... he feels a need to impress her. To live up to the same carefree coolness that she evokes, even if that's not what draws her to him.
It's all a feeling Peter can't even articulate in words, right now, even as it compels him to second-guess himself. He's not scared at all of getting kicked out for telling a bad joke, but deep down... he's scared of getting kicked out for being a bad lay. And he doesn't know why he should fear that with her! But it helps that Felicia takes command, then, biting his bottom lip and smothering him in a deeper kiss than any he'd attempted on her. There's less to fear here than he imagined-- less to worry about. So while she sits on his lap, he wraps an arm around the small of her back, his opposite hand cupping her cheek - just as she cradles the back of his head, her fingers buried in his hair. ]
I can play delivery man again.
Perhaps in more of the... stereotypical way I was joking about, earlier.
[ A nervous laugh. Peter's getting ahead of himself here, anticipating a round two before round one has even started. But maybe that's a good sign, that he can broach something like that in jest.
What followed can't be interpreted as ironic, though. The way Peter tilts his head to plant another kiss, deeper now than previously, but not as committed as Felicia's. At least not until it occurs to him to do the same thing with his tongue, flitting it gently against her own during their mouths' extended contact-- the gentle collision of their lips as Peter - already embracing her - holds her closer. ]
You'll probably have to tell me what you want in advance... if you're sleeping in.
[ He broke away from the kiss briefly to speak, but didn't distance his face from Felicia's. It feels perfect, staying this close. For once, all the power and responsibility in the world can wait... and that's okay. Because as much as Peter has a responsibility to others that's worth cherishing and upholding, he has to learn that he's got a responsibility to himself. His own wellness, and the wellness of those who matter to him the most.
Peter's hand that had been cupping Felicia's cheek gravitates downward, though. His fingers grip the hem of her robe, tracing one side's diagonal slant down her chest, only to then tug. Not enough for the whole thing to come undone, obviously, but enough to gesture at the desire to see it happen. And for someone who runs his mouth on the regular... he finds it hard to use his words. It's not like he's a novice at this, but. Christ. How can he not feel like one in front of Felicia? ]
Uh...
[ He's not all far gone. Now he wants to laugh at himself for feeling imposter syndrome about sex. ]
no subject
[ In whatever way she chooses... from a number of ways across Peter's vivid imagination. So vivid it's almost paralyzing, really, that the anticipation compels him to stick to the peppering of chaste kisses that he started with. Not so much because that's all he knows how to do, but because in his own way, he's just damn nervous. They've had all this time, all these coffee dates and well-intentioned heists, to get comfortable with each other again. To sit with each other's flaws, poke fun at each other for every stupid little thing, and yet... he feels a need to impress her. To live up to the same carefree coolness that she evokes, even if that's not what draws her to him.
It's all a feeling Peter can't even articulate in words, right now, even as it compels him to second-guess himself. He's not scared at all of getting kicked out for telling a bad joke, but deep down... he's scared of getting kicked out for being a bad lay. And he doesn't know why he should fear that with her! But it helps that Felicia takes command, then, biting his bottom lip and smothering him in a deeper kiss than any he'd attempted on her. There's less to fear here than he imagined-- less to worry about. So while she sits on his lap, he wraps an arm around the small of her back, his opposite hand cupping her cheek - just as she cradles the back of his head, her fingers buried in his hair. ]
I can play delivery man again.
Perhaps in more of the... stereotypical way I was joking about, earlier.
[ A nervous laugh. Peter's getting ahead of himself here, anticipating a round two before round one has even started. But maybe that's a good sign, that he can broach something like that in jest.
What followed can't be interpreted as ironic, though. The way Peter tilts his head to plant another kiss, deeper now than previously, but not as committed as Felicia's. At least not until it occurs to him to do the same thing with his tongue, flitting it gently against her own during their mouths' extended contact-- the gentle collision of their lips as Peter - already embracing her - holds her closer. ]
You'll probably have to tell me what you want in advance... if you're sleeping in.
[ He broke away from the kiss briefly to speak, but didn't distance his face from Felicia's. It feels perfect, staying this close. For once, all the power and responsibility in the world can wait... and that's okay. Because as much as Peter has a responsibility to others that's worth cherishing and upholding, he has to learn that he's got a responsibility to himself. His own wellness, and the wellness of those who matter to him the most.
Peter's hand that had been cupping Felicia's cheek gravitates downward, though. His fingers grip the hem of her robe, tracing one side's diagonal slant down her chest, only to then tug. Not enough for the whole thing to come undone, obviously, but enough to gesture at the desire to see it happen. And for someone who runs his mouth on the regular... he finds it hard to use his words. It's not like he's a novice at this, but. Christ. How can he not feel like one in front of Felicia? ]
Uh...
[ He's not all far gone. Now he wants to laugh at himself for feeling imposter syndrome about sex. ]