Author's Note:
First Time from the same universe as my fic Just Like This.
Peter blinked dazedly up at the ceiling.
He couldn't feel his legs. Everything from the waist down was pleasantly tingly, bordering on numb. There was this clinical awareness going on in the back of his head, explaining away the endorphins making his mind into a misty, cotton-filled mess.
If he could ever catch his breath, he might be able to do something about the sticky mess on his belly. Or the state of his sheets.
"Well?" Quentin hummed. "Live up to your expectations, kid?"
Peter meant to say something intelligent, but when he opened his mouth only giddy laughter came out.
"I didn't expect to be so tired," he gasped, once his giggles subsided. "Or for it to be so-"
"-Fast?" his soulmate interjected, amused.
"I think dream-sex may have ruined me."
"Can't fault you for that."
Once his heart rate began to normalize, Peter summoned the energy to roll over. Quentin hooked an arm around him as he did, seamlessly using the momentum to hike his smaller body onto his chest.
Peter couldn't help the thought that there was definitely less sweat in their shared dreamscape.
"My stamina isn't the best, at the moment," Quentin said, his fingertips writing mathematic formulas into the skin of Peter's ribs. "And technically, that was your first time. I didn't expect you to last all that long."
Peter stretched languidly, propping his chin on Quentin's sternum, over a collection of the spindly white webbing that made up his soulmark.
"Any way we can work on that, Mr. Beck?"
His impish smile was met with a sharp-toothed grin, too heated to impart the kind of danger he usually associated with it.
"Practice makes perfect," Quentin promised.
Peter kissed him.