[He can feel his pulse speeding in response to the pressure, body reacting instinctively to threat with a flood of adrenaline that's all too heady, given everything else at the moment. It's almost a disappointment that Peter stops there, and he wets his lips before answering.]
Likewise, though perhaps not in the same way.
[Metahumans and their abilities does put him at more of a disadvantage, but all that means is that he'll get to keep whatever marks Peter might like to leave him with. Tokens to remember him by.
His coat his tossed aside and shirt torn open, and Constantine grins, all wild delight. All the stops out, is it? It suits him just fine, and he grabs a fistful of Peter's shirt, dragging him in for a harsh kiss that's more teeth than lips, the words of a spell ground out between breaths. The effect is immediate: Peter's shirt seems to smoulder and burn away from around him, although there's not even a hint of heat to the magic and no threat of harm to the man. Just his clothing (hopefully not too expensive), burning up like paper and fine ashes floating away.]
[ The one downside to Peter's regenerative ability is the lack of tokens from a night well spent... alright, there's more than one downside, but he tries not to think about what life might look like in a hundred years time but that's beside the point.
There's a low growl that sounds from deep within his chest as he's pulled into that kiss, hard, rough, and electrifying. His hands find purchase on Constantine's hips, fingertips digging in with a firm grasp as he hungrily meets every graze of teeth. He only pulls back when the sensation of cool air touches heated skin, gaze immediately dropping to witness the display. If Peter wasn't already turned on, that certainly would have been the tipping point. When he glances back up, a wicked salacious half-grin falls into place. ]
If your act downstairs is anything to go by...
[ As he speaks, his hands at Constantine's hips run up over his body, flashes of blue light igniting between them. From his palms and fingertips sparks electricity, intensity toned down to a biting sensation. ]
...maybe you should take your own advice.
[ Peter smirks, and when his hands meet his shoulders, he doesn't hesitate to take hold of the open shirt, yanking it over and down his arms, and letting it fall to the floor. He leaves the tie around his neck purposefully, because hey, it could prove useful sooner or later. ]
Yeah?
[ He presses his body to Constantine's to continue pushing him toward the bed, one hand returning to his hip, the other combing up through short strands of hair to the top, where he grabs a fistful and tugs to extend his neck. His mouth latches on, teeth scraping against the skin, intent on leaving his first mark. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Likewise, though perhaps not in the same way.
[Metahumans and their abilities does put him at more of a disadvantage, but all that means is that he'll get to keep whatever marks Peter might like to leave him with. Tokens to remember him by.
His coat his tossed aside and shirt torn open, and Constantine grins, all wild delight. All the stops out, is it? It suits him just fine, and he grabs a fistful of Peter's shirt, dragging him in for a harsh kiss that's more teeth than lips, the words of a spell ground out between breaths. The effect is immediate: Peter's shirt seems to smoulder and burn away from around him, although there's not even a hint of heat to the magic and no threat of harm to the man. Just his clothing (hopefully not too expensive), burning up like paper and fine ashes floating away.]
Try and keep up, yeah?
no subject
There's a low growl that sounds from deep within his chest as he's pulled into that kiss, hard, rough, and electrifying. His hands find purchase on Constantine's hips, fingertips digging in with a firm grasp as he hungrily meets every graze of teeth. He only pulls back when the sensation of cool air touches heated skin, gaze immediately dropping to witness the display. If Peter wasn't already turned on, that certainly would have been the tipping point. When he glances back up, a wicked salacious half-grin falls into place. ]
If your act downstairs is anything to go by...
[ As he speaks, his hands at Constantine's hips run up over his body, flashes of blue light igniting between them. From his palms and fingertips sparks electricity, intensity toned down to a biting sensation. ]
...maybe you should take your own advice.
[ Peter smirks, and when his hands meet his shoulders, he doesn't hesitate to take hold of the open shirt, yanking it over and down his arms, and letting it fall to the floor. He leaves the tie around his neck purposefully, because hey, it could prove useful sooner or later. ]
Yeah?
[ He presses his body to Constantine's to continue pushing him toward the bed, one hand returning to his hip, the other combing up through short strands of hair to the top, where he grabs a fistful and tugs to extend his neck. His mouth latches on, teeth scraping against the skin, intent on leaving his first mark. ]