[Peter doesn't know if friends is even on the table anymore, but fuck if it's going to stop him from trying. Otherwise he'd have to admit to it, admit to this, admit to how things have changed and a host of thoughts and feelings he might rather die than talk about. Or nearly so, anyway.
He is, however, all for soaking up the moment, complete with all of its illicit gains of touch and taste. At least until Roman's stomach grumbles, and he can't help snickering, grinning playfully.]
So what do you rich folks do in a situation like this, anyway? Send the food back?
[Peter would have little compunction about cold food -- it was worth it, even if it wasn't over desires he wasn't entirely comfortable admitting to, even if that ship had likely sailed. Between them, anyway.
He was trying to pretend they were still friends, and that fucking in the mens room didn't have to change a thing.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2014-09-19 08:25 am (UTC)He is, however, all for soaking up the moment, complete with all of its illicit gains of touch and taste. At least until Roman's stomach grumbles, and he can't help snickering, grinning playfully.]
So what do you rich folks do in a situation like this, anyway? Send the food back?
[Peter would have little compunction about cold food -- it was worth it, even if it wasn't over desires he wasn't entirely comfortable admitting to, even if that ship had likely sailed. Between them, anyway.
He was trying to pretend they were still friends, and that fucking in the mens room didn't have to change a thing.]