#i guess they needed the skin and muscle for something. and like he fell unconsious and bled out on the floor with the blood splattered bag

[cetoddle-archive]

does anyone wanna hear about the dream i had last night huh huh

[starkerdays]

hi uhhhhh what if peter sees tony while/after working out and gets all hot and bothered because tony is sweaty and peter kinky (whoops you did say dirty)

 (i’ll take this opportunity to apologize my inactivity, ive had some troubles these past few days) 

Plain and simple? You could see his sweaty muscles. You could see the way the sweat was running down his spine, his very muscular spine, and his breaths got faster every second, sounding like breathy moans that Peter could just drown into. You could see the way his arms were working, the veins about to practically pop out because of how much strenght he was using to literally lift himself from the ground. Himself. A forty-eight year old man that was no where near being skinny

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” Tony said, still exercising, lifting himself from the ground yet another time and having the audacity of staying there, knowing damn well Peter was staring at him like he couldn’t breathe without that sight. 

“Oh, common” started Peter, putting his hands in his waist. “You can creep on me every time I jerk off but I can’t creep on you? While you’re doing something so trivial like exercise?” he ended with a scoff. 

Tony let go of the bar he was holding onto and fell to the floor standing (Peter thought he looked like a very sexy lion), then turned around slowly, grabbing a towel that was laying on an arm chair, drying his very wet face. 

“What kind of word is trivial, anyway?” he whispered, getting close to Peter, licking his lips while he unconsiously looked for the bottle of water he had left somewhere. 

Peter couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Tony was staring at him now and grinning, knowing he was pissing Peter off with absolutely nothing. Because technically, Peter had no reason to be pissed off whatsoever. Except for the fact that Tony had no right to look like an actual greek god while standing there, all sweaty and five minutes away from having a heart attack from all the caffeine he had taken that morning. 

“I might just liten to you and take a picture. You’re insufferable” he said, reaching for his phone that was in his unmistakably tight pants. 

But Tony didn’t let him finish, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him close, having their faces inches apart. And considering Tony was holding Peter so tight from his sides, Peter could feel the raw texture of the things Tony used to not get his hands hurt. Peter had never known what they were called. 

“Let me guess, you’re then going to sell them on EBay? You’ll make a lot of money out of my nudes” and then he raised an eyebrow, as if he was thinking of actually going through with it. 

And if Peter was honest with himself, he couldn’t understand the way his body reacted and functioned. It was supposed to be disgusting, the whole sweaty-hand-gripping-dry-skin thing, but it wasn’t. It was actually a turn on for Peter, and he could barely understand why the mere smell of virility that was radiating from his lover’s skin made him feel all fuzzy inside. 

“Shut up and fuck me” Peter cried, finally a moan that had been suppressed for the longest of times escaping his mouth as a broken whisper. It was a plea, a command, an offering. He just needed to have his hands roaming all over his body and making him feel overwhelmed by need and desperation. 

Before he even knew it, he was wrapping his legs on Tony’s sweaty waist and bumping into him, feeling his rock hard dick inside those annoyingly sexy black sport pants. And the utter impotence he felt when he realized Tony had cleared the nearest table, throwing everything to the floor and laying him there, while actually growling and exploring his body in an animalistic desire, was enough to make him beg. 

“Please, just fuck me”

Tony just smirked and kept going.