The words and the sounds Rocket is making are filthy and perfect, but it's the emotions Peter can sense behind them that undo him. It's the way Rocket says he wants him, as if Peter truly is worth keeping as a partner. It's the sharp cry that follows, so hot and so obvious about what's happening, and he can just see him, clear in his mind like the light of day. Rocket's back arching, his expression twisted in pleasure, mouth hanging open. Beautiful and perfect.

Peter is only a few seconds behind him, his thighs shaking as he comes, a mantra of 'fuck' and 'Rocket' and 'ohgodsIwishyouwerehere' dropping from his lips until he can't make coherent sounds. It all tapers into a kind of low moaning and gasping Rocket might be even more familiar with than the curses. Peter has always been loud. He makes a mess of his chest and stomach, but he couldn't care less. He falls back against his pillows, head dropping back and brushing against the cold wall with one last groan. It helps a bit to clear his head.

"I'd be soooo annoying if I were there with you." The blond answers just as softly after a few seconds pass, his breath still uneven and sounding as wrecked as Rocket feels. It's clear that he's longing just as much as his lover.

"I'd cover you in kisses and hickeys, then cuddle you to death in bed. And then you'd complain about my beard being scratchy and say that I'm a big oaf that's just too much of a furnace to sleep next to."

And they would both enjoy every second of it.