It's tempting to leave his eyes open just so Peter can keep even better track of Adam, though that's not to say that his fingers aren't enough. But he keeps slipping, lost between emotions and the way Adam's touches are more dissembling than anything twice as aggressive might be. His eyes are falling half lidded as he noses against Adam's cheek, lips finding the last remnants of tears. He might want Adam to be strong enough for the both of them right now, but that doesn't mean it doesn't own him completely to know that Adam also has his limits.
With a near desperate sound, Peter's trying to keep himself grounded by memorizing all that he can of the other man. Tracing ribs, Peter's palm spanning the distance between his shoulder blades, his fingers timing the seconds it takes to draw down Adam's lower back. All of it, and still Peter wants to say but, but what if something happens, but what if there's no more next time's. It's still hanging there, the word still taunting him at the back of his mind.
Bringing his knees up along both of Adam's sides, Peter buries his face in against the taller man's neck, mumbling things he's certain he's not strong enough to say loudly. "I don't want you to go," and words filled to the brim with need and loneliness and all the 'but's' he wishes he could ignore on his own. He's not going to cry anymore, he can't, he won't let himself; there's no more left, but Peter's breaking down all the same. Lifting himself into every touch, only giving further proof to how badly he needs every demonstration Adam is willing to offer, Peter's touch is just as possessive, claiming the other man for the safe-hold he so badly needs.
no subject
With a near desperate sound, Peter's trying to keep himself grounded by memorizing all that he can of the other man. Tracing ribs, Peter's palm spanning the distance between his shoulder blades, his fingers timing the seconds it takes to draw down Adam's lower back. All of it, and still Peter wants to say but, but what if something happens, but what if there's no more next time's. It's still hanging there, the word still taunting him at the back of his mind.
Bringing his knees up along both of Adam's sides, Peter buries his face in against the taller man's neck, mumbling things he's certain he's not strong enough to say loudly. "I don't want you to go," and words filled to the brim with need and loneliness and all the 'but's' he wishes he could ignore on his own. He's not going to cry anymore, he can't, he won't let himself; there's no more left, but Peter's breaking down all the same. Lifting himself into every touch, only giving further proof to how badly he needs every demonstration Adam is willing to offer, Peter's touch is just as possessive, claiming the other man for the safe-hold he so badly needs.