Peter slipped into Jason's lap with an agonizing ease. Hindsight punched him in the chest now that he was there, a leg on either side of Jason's. There wasn't enough time for Peter to tell himself not to press his hips forward because Jason did it for him. His arms were a vice around Peter's waist. He hitched in to get as close as possible. The movie was now a dull murmur against muffling sheets.

"Jason," came Peter's voice against the other boy's lips, astounded and grateful and floored. There was nothing else to say. Lips wanted to do what hands had never dared to. Peter cupped Jason's face and kissed him like his world would end if he didn't. He was sure it would. He barely dared to breathe.