A Picture Can Speak a Thousand Words (Peterick)

Inspiration

Sitting in Pete's bedroom half naked and injured is not what I had expected of my weekend. I guess that sounds weird for anyone with a dirty mind. Pete had mentioned me being his art homework inspiration; I didn't think he meant me shirtless. I absent-mindedly brought my arms up to cover my chest, trying to wash away the feeling of being too exposed.

"Trick, man. You look great. Stop covering yourself and sit straight so I can finish sketching your torso." Pete demanded impatiently. We'd been sat here for at least an hour, Pete sketching me as I sat under the light of a lamp. I reluctantly dropped my arms back down to my side's as Pete grinned, clearly enjoying seeing me in an awkward state.

I stared at Pete's face, deep in concentration. His tongue was sticking out cutely and his brows were furrowed only slightly. He took glimpses at me every couple of seconds, some of them lingering. I grinned to myself. He definitely likes what he's seeing.

"Something funny?" Pete mumbles, still sketching and not caring to stop to listen for my answer.

"Yeah, you're lingering," I snicker, Pete's jaw dropping in fake shock and offence.

"I am not one to linger, 'Tricky," he whispers in a mocking hushed voice, dropping his art book and pencil next to him on the desk and making his way to me on the bed. I shuffle back onto it, laying down and resting my back. Next time he wants to draw me he can use a fricking picture to draw from. I suddenly feel warm, wet lips on my chest, kissing up to my neck. I shiver and look down at Peter, laughing.

"Got bored of drawing?"

Pete shakes his head. "Finished it," he murmurs against my chest, still kissing softly up and down it. I sigh in relief; finally. I bring a hand up to pet his hair, checking my watch simultaneously. I gape at the watch, hoping it's time is wrong. 9:30pm? I was meant to be home at 9.

Quickly I push Pete off of me and crawl on top of him, giggling at his confused face. I put on the most lustful expression I can, biting my lip down at him. My plan evidently worked as I felt him against my thigh. I smirked devilishly. He was wrapped around my little finger. Just as I felt Pete's hands wrapping around my hips I sat up and jumped off the bed.

"Hey, what?" I turned to Pete, seeing his hurt puppy dog eyes. I picked up my shirt and tugged it over my head, grinning back.

"I need to go home, you douche canoe." I mumbled, pointing to the clock and making my way toy is room door. He quickly followed, pressing himself against my back and kissing my neck softly.

"I'll drive you home, just so I can make out with you in the car once we're there."