Peter was in the process of bringing the flask up for another sip, but paused in mid tilt. What? Did he…? He slowly lowered the flash and squinted a bit at the Star Lord. It took a moment for his spider senses to get it together and sharpen enough for Peter to focus on his face, but when they did, he was surprised to see that the other man was staring right at him. Suddenly he couldn’t tell if he was flushed because his body was working overtime to clear through the mead or if he was flaming from the thought of climbing onto Quill and rubbing off on him like the teenager he technically still was.
The Star Lord was hot. While not being completely certain what his preferences might be, Peter’s dick knew what it wanted even if it wasn’t sure how he wanted to get it. It had perked up and begged for attention on more than one inappropriate occasion and from the little that he’d interacted with Quill, he was the king of inappropriate occasions. But the question remained whether or not Quill was serious or just trying to be reassuring. The last thing Peter needed was meaningless platitudes.
“You would.” Peter repeated stupidly before his brain rearranged the words into what he meant to say. So he tried again. “I mean…you would what…?” Peter meant to leave it there, but there was just enough mead left processing for him to add, “…Fuck me?”
As soon as the words escaped his mouth, he imagined it. He’d watched some porn once on Ned’s computer when Ned was in the shower. He’d been slightly afraid of Karen or worse, Stark, somehow seeing his browser history if he used any of his own devices. The mental image of male bodies writhing together was burned beneath his eyelids and god, he’d wanted to try it. He’d tried his own fingers once and was horribly disappointed. It just…wasn’t what he wanted. The same with masturbation, he could do it and sometimes he did but it wasn’t good enough. He wanted another hard body against him, closing him in and holding him down.