[while the intent had been for her to go change elsewhere or for him to step away for a moment to allow her the privacy of his room to do so, peter can't say that he's mad about her healthy appreciation for efficiency, or as he likes to call it her impatience. so appreciate her he does, lip trapped between his teeth as he watches inch after inch of skin come into view. and though he's seen it all before, he still gazes in wonder that he gets to look.
peter doesn't intervene, much as he wants to, fingers itching to slide the rest of her clothes off and nudge her into bed — it's right there — and in lieu of taking care of it himself he rocks back onto his heels and snaps a photo just as she manages to slip the shirt over her head, catching the tail end of that mischievous look as she warns him that he's about to lose another shirt to the keep kate bishop fully covered in bed fund.
he only looks a little miffed about it, but the protest is real.]
Nope. How many shirts have you absconded with now? Four? Five?
no subject
peter doesn't intervene, much as he wants to, fingers itching to slide the rest of her clothes off and nudge her into bed — it's right there — and in lieu of taking care of it himself he rocks back onto his heels and snaps a photo just as she manages to slip the shirt over her head, catching the tail end of that mischievous look as she warns him that he's about to lose another shirt to the keep kate bishop fully covered in bed fund.
he only looks a little miffed about it, but the protest is real.]
Nope. How many shirts have you absconded with now? Four? Five?