Let It Happen

Part 5

Peter finished his sentence with a shout as Quentin rammed himself back into Peter.  He was through waiting for his own pleasure when his partner was clearly enjoying it just as much as he was.

He started up a hard and fast rhythm in and out, enjoying how Peter clenched around his c**k, the reactions clearly showing just how much he was enjoying it all.

It took Peter a moment to acclimate to Quentin’s harsh pace but once he did, he tried his best to throw his hips back to meet Quentin’s, driving the man even deeper into him.  

Quentin knew exactly when he found Peter’s prostate, the hoarse “Ah!” sounded like he’d received a punch to the gut rather than the hard f*****g he was getting.  The boy’s back arched in what looked like a painful manner before his knees gave out and he was only upright still because of the grip Quentin had on him.

He was sure he was leaving bruises.  Hopefully, he would get the chance to see them before they faded completely.

Peter was losing his mind with how amazing it all felt.  It was the best thing he had ever experienced.  He felt full, and covered, and small, and vulnerable and, oh man, the actual physical feeling.  Stretched to the point of pain, and Quentin was keeping it fast and hard enough that he couldn’t quite get used to the feeling, so it just stayed there, right at too much.

Quentin was back to biting and sucking at his neck and he couldn’t contain himself anymore.  “Beck!  Quentin, I need more, give me, I can’t…”  When Quentin stopped all movement and raised his head to look at Peter’s face, he saw the tears running freely down his cheeks again.  The broken sentences, the tears, the uncoordinated movements, trying to force himself back further onto Quentin’s c**k, they all played perfectly into his plan for the evening.

“I don’t think so, kiddo.”  Quentin shook his head, trying to seem sorry that the answer was no, while he was enjoying every second of it.  “You already got to come twice, Peter.  Anything more would just be too much.  Two orgasms and you’re still begging for more?  I don’t wanna spoil my little slut, do I?”  

Peter’s eyes got wide at that, not comprehending how the answer could be no after Quentin had done so much to get him to this point.  Wasn’t this the goal of the entire evening?

“Here’s how the rest of the night is gonna go.”  Quentin started moving again, shallow and slow so the boy could focus on his words.  “You’re gonna make me come, and then I’m gonna keep playing with you for a while, because I can’t think of a better way to calm back down.  And then I’m gonna play with you some more, just because I love seeing you so worked up.  And then, maybe I’ll be done with you.  For the night.”

Peter whined at the stimulation that wasn’t nearly enough and felt his brain go almost staticky at the matter of fact tone, like he had no say in the matter.  Like he was just along for the ride.

“Good, glad you agree.  Not that it matters what you say.  Your every move is telling me just how much you need this,” Quentin slammed in deep, making Peter cry out again.  “But you need more too, don’t you?  You need someone to tell you what you need, what it is you’ve been craving so badly, you can’t think straight.”

Peter was practically drooling against the wall.  He was still trying to meet Quentin’s thrusts, still grinding his ass back whenever he could coordinate the movements well enough.

“If you wanted this to stop, I would know.  You wouldn’t even have to say anything, I could tell.  I know how to read you so well.  You know that.  So just let it happen.  You want everything I’m offering, so just let it happen and enjoy.”

There wasn’t really a need for words after that.  Quentin went back to f*****g Peter hard and fast, and Peter was still waiting for more to come.  But it never did.  

He felt Quentin’s thrusts become more and more erratic, then he f****d in deep once, twice, then held there buried deep while his c**k twitched through his release.  

He let out a shout that made Peter feel a sense of pride for no real reason, and the groan that followed, low and soft, rumbled right through Peter’s chest.

True to his word, as soon as he had recovered from his orgasm, Quentin pulled out of Peter and shoved two fingers back in him.

It was plenty slick now, the kid’s hole filled with Quentin’s come.  He had to suppress another groan at the sight.  He really wanted to go again but he knew that he would need some time to recover from the first round.

Feeling around, stroking Peter’s walls, he found that spot again and decided to see what sounds he could wring from Peter.

Rubbing over it softly had Peter twitching and biting his lip, a hum telling Quentin how pleasant the feeling was.  Pressing harder, the kid grunted and pressing back onto Quentin’s fingers.

Peter kept rocking backwards steadily.  Quentin noticed he couldn’t see Peter’s other hand.  Reaching around, he followed the kid’s arm down to where he had his hand wrapped around himself, f*****g his own fist like he just couldn’t help it.

“Oh, no you don’t.  That is not for you to touch anymore.  Not when I’m around and definitely not without permission,” Quentin said as he removed Peter’s hand and pressed it firmly into the wall.  Leaning in tight against his back again, Quentin was thankful that Peter’s legs had started supporting some of his own weight again, though he was sure if he let go entirely, Peter would end up in a heap on the floor.

“And if I remember correctly, I already said no.  Do you remember me saying that, Peter?  I’ll admit, you may have been a bit distracted, so I’ll let it slide.  Just this once.  And I’ll say it just once more: you may not come again until I tell you to.  Now, do you understand, Peter?”

Quentin watched every bit of tension seep from the boy’s entire body.  He tightened his grip to make sure the kid wasn’t just going to keel over.  The reaction might have concerned him from anyone else, but for some reason with Peter it just made sense.  

This kid was still a teenager, literally a kid when he got his powers, and he had been running around playing hero with the grownups ever since.  If anyone needed to be able to let go, it was him.  

Catching Peter as he started sliding down the wall further, he looked around for a second deciding on his next course of action. 

As he adjusted his hold and stance so he could scoop Peter up, one arm behind his shoulders, one behind his knees, the boy just let himself be maneuvered.  Quentin had never felt so humbled and so like he had done something right in his whole life.

Peter had just enough awareness left to raise his arms to wrap around Quentin’s neck.  He nuzzled his face into the man who smelled like the only person to ever treat him like an adult, smelled like familiarity he shouldn’t have considering how he knew the man, and a sense of security washed over him anew. 

He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he just felt like he could exist and everything would be fine.  There was nothing wrong with anything, he was with the person who could let him just be.  His eyes had been closed for a while now but it was okay.  He didn’t have to protect anyone when he was like this.  He was just here and everything was so peaceful, there was nothing he could even think of needing to protect against.

Quentin took them to his bedroom, settling Peter on the bed, making sure he looked comfortable. He moved away, assuring Peter that he’d “be right back, sweetheart, don’t worry.  Just getting something to clean us up with.  I’ll be back in less than a minute, I promise.”

When he returned, he kissed Peter on the lips, not exactly gentle because it was still very possessive, tongue sweeping into Peter’s mouth, still owning the boy, but it was soft and reassuring somehow even then.

He pulled back after Peter’s kisses became sloppy and uncoordinated.  He picked up the washcloth he had run under the warm water in the bathroom and wiped himself off quickly, before reaching between Peter’s legs.

The whine from his lips stopped Quentin from going any further.  Looking up, he saw the frown on the boy’s face, eyes open and watching Quentin with a rather upset look.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?  I’m just going to clean you up.  Don’t you wanna feel clean again?”  He tried, not understanding what part of his actions Peter could be unhappy about.  

“You’re all sticky, it can’t be comfortable.”

Peter’s frown deepened but he let his head relax back against the pillow it had been resting on.  “Okay,” came his small voice, so soft Quentin barely heard it.  But he did hear it, and he couldn’t help the feeling he had somehow disappointed the boy.

“Hey, kiddo,” Quentin started, unsure what to do until Peter told him what was wrong.  “Can you talk to me?”  He reached a hand up and cupped Peter’s cheek, fingers softly petting over the skin there.  “What are you sad about, baby?  I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

Peter had settled some against Quentin’s palm, the touch acting as an anchor, something for him to hold on to while he drifted.  He shrugged his shoulders, though the movement was barely noticeable.

“Come on, Peter.  What do you need?  You don’t want me to clean you up?”  Quentin was still trying to get to the root of the problem, which was more difficult when your partner was going through a nonverbal phase.

Peter thought for a moment then shook his head.  Again the movement was very small, Quentin felt it more than he saw it.  

“Okay, that’s fine, honey.  I don’t have to clean you off.”  Maybe he had done something wrong?  Crossed some sort of boundary he hadn’t known was there and Peter didn’t want him to touch him there anymore?  Or, maybe since they were done, he just didn’t feel comfortable with Quentin touching him like that now.

“Can you tell me why, though?”  Peter shook his head again.  “Do you wanna do it yourself?”  Another shake of his head.  “...do you not want me to touch you there anymore?”

That struck a chord with Peter because his eyes opened again, and he shook his head frantically against Quentin’s palm.  “No!  Please, ’s not what I meant!  Don’t, you were gonna, you said you... but then you didn’t and I- no!  Please!”

Peter was on the verge of panic now.  Clearly, Quentin had missed something for Peter to react like this.  Using his other hand to stroke over Peter’s side, under his shirt, fingers brushing over skin, Quentin thought on what few words Peter had managed.

You said you were gonna.  That seemed to be what Peter was trying to get across.  What had he said?

“You’re gonna make me come, and then I’m gonna keep playing with you for a while, because I can’t think of a better way to calm back down.  And then I’m gonna play with you some more, because I love seeing you so worked up.  And then, maybe I’ll be done with you.  For the night.”

Oh.  Quentin felt an all new spark of arousal shoot through him.  Too bad it was much too soon for another round.  

“Is this about what I said earlier?  Huh?”  Peter opened his eyes again, slowly, almost hesitantly.  He didn’t nod his head, but he didn’t shake it either, so Quentin thought he must be on the right track.  “When I said I was gonna play with you, then play with you some more, and you were just gonna enjoy it?  Is that it?”

Shyly, Peter looked away, unable to meet Quentin’s eyes, like doing so would be admitting to a bad thing.  The way his cheeks turned red was enough of a confirmation for Quentin.  

“Aww, baby, no.  It’s fine.  We can do more if you want to.  Do you want more still?”  Peter nodded once.  “Even though I’m not gonna let you come again?”  He needed Peter to remember that, needed to know what his answer was when he knew it wasn’t going to lead anywhere for him.  If he let it, Quentin was sure the entire effect would be ruined for the poor kid.

Peter closed his eyes again.  This time they looked scrunched instead of peaceful.  He let out a breath and tried speaking again, tongue still working too slow for it to go well.  “Don’t hafta… ‘f you don’ wanna, ‘s okay…”

And that just wouldn’t do.  “Hey, no.  Stop that, Peter.”  He kept his voice kind but firm, unwilling to let Peter think he was upset with him, but also not about to let this slip by unaddressed.

“If that’s what you want, kiddo, then that sounds amazing.  You were so out of it, I didn’t think you would want to.”  His hands slid down over Peter’s ribs and stomach and he felt the kid’s abs quiver at the touch.  “But if you do… that can absolutely be arranged.”

Quentin let his hand run down further, brushing the base of Peter’s c**k, still half hard, and lower down, over his balls that tightened as his nail scraped over them lightly, all the way back to circle over his hole.  Peter sunk deeper into the pillows, nodding his head fiercely, unable to stop the pleased sound from escaping.

“Is that what you want?  I need to hear it, Peter.”

“Yes, please.”  Of course, the kid managed to articulate those two words perfectly, Quentin thought as he let his finger sink into Peter again.

Peter sighed and relaxed fully back against the bed.  Well, this was unexpected, but definitely better than the thoughts that had raced through Quentin’s mind as Peter had stopped him from cleaning him.

Well, if Peter wanted more, then he would give Peter more.  That was certainly no hardship.

Quentin spent some time working Peter up from one finger to two this time.  Not that he needed it, since they wouldn’t be doing more tonight.  Especially with Peter this far gone.  He’d need some serious time to come back from this, though hopefully things would be better for him once he did.

No, now he was just enjoying the sensations.  Without the pressing need, Quentin could take in and savor all the tiny reactions he got, what made the boy twitch and writhe, what made him sigh and moan.  

Everything was lighter now, softer.  Peter never tried for anything more than what Quentin was giving him.  As he stroked Peter’s prostate, he saw that Peter was hard, and it must have been unpleasant, but you couldn’t tell from the expression of pure bliss Peter had on his face. 

Quentin could see his come dripping from Peter’s hole around his fingers.  He used it as extra lube and did his best to make sure it stayed in.  Peter wriggled his hips happily at the feeling of Quentin pressing it back inside him. 

His hips gave little rocking motions but Quentin could tell it was just instinctual. There was no conscious effort to get more, to chase an orgasm he wouldn’t be getting.

Quentin made sure to steer clear of Peter’s c**k, unsure if the oversensitivity there would jolt Peter out of his blissful state but unwilling to risk it either way.  He did press kisses to the skin around it, sucking a couple of small marks that he watched fade before his eyes.  He bit once and Peter let out a louder huff of air, but that was the most he gave for a reaction.

Finally, he saw a hint of awareness come back to Peter’s eyes.  He watched his fingers twitch, curling into the sheets, and his breathing came back from the steady almost sleep-like breathing he had been seeing in the rise and fall of Peter’s chest.

He removed his fingers from Peter’s hole, then pulled back so he was at a better position to monitor the boy’s return to true consciousness.  After a few moments, he spoke.

“Hey, kiddo.  You back with me a little bit?”  He smiled at the dazed look still present on Peter’s face.  “What do you say we get you cleaned up a bit now?  How does that sound?”

Peter went to sit up and winced.  Quentin squeezed his shoulder in sympathy and said,” Don’t worry.  I’ve got a cloth right here.  Just let me take care of you for a bit, okay?”

He got the feeling that if Peter were a bit more aware and a bit less sore, he would have put up more of a fight.  As it was, he just laid back and let Quentin wipe him down with the cool cloth, finally taking his clothes off as he went.  

It probably felt good for a few seconds but by the time Quentin was done cleaning him up, he was shivering.  Dragging one of the blankets free from the bed, he made sure Peter was covered before telling him, “Just wait here.  I’ll get you some clothes to put on so you’re more comfortable.”

He wandered around the room, grabbing underwear and sweatpants for them both from the dresser, as well as socks for Peter, then a t-shirt for himself and a lightweight hoodie from the closet for Peter. He put the clothes on the bed and quickly pulled the blanket off of Peter, making sure to warn him with a soft, “Let’s get you dressed, now.  That’ll really warm you up.”

All the clothes were much too big on Peter, of course, with the exception of the socks.  Not that Peter seemed to mind at all.  Once he was dressed he pulled his feet in so they were covered by the legs of the pants and did the same with his hands, hiding them in the sleeves of the hoodie.  

Quentin was sure if he was more himself he would have tugged the hood up into place to complete the look, so before he laid back down, Quentin did it for him, smiling at the sight.

Once Peter was laying down and covered back up, Quentin got himself into his clean clothes, tossing his dirty ones across the room in the vague direction of the hamper in his closet.  He was sure he missed but he had more important matters to attend to.

He settled himself in the bed under the blanket with Peter and, giving him time to pull away if he needed to, reached out to pull Peter against him.  They both laid on their sides, Peter’s face buried in Quentin’s chest.  

Quentin could feel the warmth everytime Peter breathed, could feel his chest expand and deflate.  He felt Peter’s hand come up and clutch at his shirt, like he was making sure Quentin didn’t leave.  The very thought was ridiculous to Quentin.  Like he could leave after all of that.

Peter would have a hard time getting rid of him after what happened.  No one had ever been so perfect for Quentin and they hadn’t even discussed things beforehand.  It had just naturally happened in a way so perfect, not even Quentin could have imagined it.  

And he had imagined plenty.

“Relax, kiddo.  I’m not going anywhere.”  He tightened his arms around the boy, making sure he felt secure but not trapped.  “You can let go if you want.  I’ll still be here.  I’ve already got water on the nightstand for us.  Trust me, the furthest I’ll go is the bathroom.  Maybe the kitchen to get us something to eat if I’m feeling really ambitious.”  He laughed when that earned him the smallest chuckle.  “Otherwise, I’ll be right here.”

He ran his hand up and down Peter’s back.  There was no tension there but he was sure some of his muscles were sore from the position he had held for so long.  Adding more pressure, he rubbed at Peter’s back, alternating sides and pressure until the kid was sighing against his chest and his grip had eased from Quentin’s t-shirt.

“Here, how about I roll over and you can lay on me?  You can make sure I don’t go anywhere that way.  Does that sound better?”  He looked down at Peter, unable to see his expression because of the shadows the hood cast on his face.  “Might be more comfortable too.”

He could tell that Peter wanted to move, but was scared that if he did he might mess something up or do something wrong.  He’d have to work with the kid on those insecurities, fast.  He couldn’t imagine Peter doing anything wrong ever.

Apparently the idea of moving was enticing enough that he eventually nodded and let Quentin rearrange them so he was flat on his back with Peter half draped over him, head on his shoulder, arm on his chest.  The hand was gripping his shirt again but he’d get Peter comfortable again and then it wouldn’t be an issue.

He felt Peter’s leg tentatively come up from resting stretched out beside Quentin’s to hovering over the top of Quentin’s thigh.  Quentin reached under the blanket, using the arm not wrapped around Peter’s back, and held onto Peter’s thigh, rubbing little circles there with his thumb.

Peter could feel the heat from Quentin everywhere they touched: against his cheek, along his chest, around his back where those long fingers were tracing patterns into his skin, and now on his thigh, where his thumb was pressing and rubbing.  He couldn’t remember ever being so content before.

He shouldn’t have been this content.  He shouldn’t have been this at ease, shouldn’t let his guard down so far around this man.  But everything in him was telling him to just let it happen and that voice was getting harder and harder to ignore the heavier his eyes got.

Quentin seemed to understand, like he always did, because he said, just as Peter was trying to get the nerve up to say something, anything, “I know you’ve got questions.  I can hear them rattling around in that big brain of yours.” 

He squeezed the thigh he was holding to try and reassure Peter.  “I promise, anything you are thinking right now, it can wait.  Get some sleep and we can deal with the rest when you’ve had some sleep.”  He felt Peter getting ready to protest and cut him off.  “And when we both have a clear head.  Cause I’m betting yours isn’t quite there yet, am I right?”

Peter tensed against him at the reminder of his vulnerable state, then melted back into the larger body beneath him.  He was right.  It could wait.  All he wanted to do now was sleep and that was exactly what Quentin was offering: sleep and then talking, in that order.

It sounded reasonable to Peter, so he nodded and settled in, closer than before.

“Good.”  Quentin brought his hand back out from under the covers and ran his fingers through Peter’s hair.  “Just so you know, you’re not the only one who doesn’t want to let go.”

He pressed a kiss to Peter’s temple and pulled back, laying back on his pillow.  “Get some sleep, kiddo.  Something tells me you haven’t gotten any in awhile.”

In true Peter fashion, he spoke up, voice still barely audible, but unable to let the opportunity pass him by.  “Thought I got plenty earlier.”  Quentin felt the grin through his shirt and couldn’t help the huffed laugh he gave in response.

“Alright, haha smartypants.  Go to sleep or I’m revoking the cuddling.”  He could feel the pout Peter gave and he eased up a bit.  “And I don’t wanna punish myself like that, but I will if I have to.  So don’t make me!”

Peter laughed a bit and somehow, everything was just so natural all of a sudden.

Yeah, definitely lots to talk about tomorrow.  But for tonight, they could both just enjoy.  So that was what they did.  They were both smart, they’d figure it out.