He lets out something like a whimper against Peter's lips, fingers winding in the sheets to try to gain some sort of leverage. He can't respond in words, but he can show Peter how he feels; working at removing the layers between them. It's all he can do not to fall apart, needing to get as close to Peter as he can. Adam can only hope he doesn't have to say the words, his frame racking more violently than the one beneath him.

The sound his trousers make when they hit the floor is deafening, but he can barely hear it over his own breathing. He's given up on trying to stop the tears, letting them fall and mingle in with Peter's. They seem inconsequential now compared to crawling under Peter's skin, biting into his lips as he forgets himself. His need for slow and close and hot and tight is being quickly surpassed by desperation as it builds under his skin, lips breaking from Peter's mouth to trace the line of his jaw.

With still quaking hands, he pins Peter to the bed, fingers digging into the man's hip. "I know," he's choking out, not sure where the ability to speak sprang up from. Tasting saline as he mouths back up to Peter's ear, it's still unmistakably Peter and he can't stop himself from tearing back in, leg making its way between Peter's.