Peter murmurs, a flutter of his eyelashes as Roman's fingers slide through his long hair. It's intimate, yet another small gesture that preserves the lie of the moment -- that this is somehow actually okay. That he can have this, keep this, and not lose everything in the end. He wont keep Roman, isn't arrogant enough to think he's some special snowflake that will hold his interest where no one else has. But for the moment, it all feels good, right, and he leans just a little into Roman's hands as he presses deeper onto his cock.

He wants him, wants this. Gentle and rough and however they fit together, he just wants to taste him. He wants to feel him. His hands slowly sliding up over his hips, tugging him in a little, as he slides down, takes him deeper as he sucks, slides his tongue against skin and lets the girth of Roman's length brush against his throat. Not quite all the way, but he could, he wants to. He just doesn't want to rush it. Right here, right now, he wants to make it good, wants to make it last.

There's a low moan on his lips, his blue eyes sliding closed for a moment with a hint of a sigh. He'll flinch away later, when it sinks in, but for now, the pleasure, the want, it's too much to resist. He can fall into this, feel how it snakes through him, hot and intense. As much as he tries to deny it, he does want him, wants him like this. In his mouth, against his fingers, wants to touch and feel in the way their dances promise.

There's a brief moment, down on his knees, where he thinks he might actually care about him. Just a little.