There was no breath to be wasted here, not when Robin was so intent at pulling every frayed string until Peter was nothing but thread for her to make into whatever she liked. He could do nothing, wanted nothing more than to let her do what she pleased while taking care of him. Every new sensation earned a hitch in his breathing, a shudder down his frame, something and everything while he gave no thought to hiding his reactions. She was pulling them out for herself, and he didn't dare try to keep them from her.

Soon, Peter started to murmur nonsense. He didn't even know what he was trying to say, just making noises of contentment and pleasure and trying to express it even if words had completely failed him. His hand never truly stopped in her hair, although it faltered and changed paces with everything new that Robin did, it seemed that the rhythm was all a part of the experience for him, too.