A little piece of Peter's heart sinks low into the depths of his stomach every time he gets that kiss; the one that only comes after 'I love you' and is supposed to be reciprocation. He knows Jason tries, and he knows that Jason means what he cannot say, but the vine of warmth that wraps around Jason's heart when Peter bares his soul with those three words has a dark, evil shadow that snakes around Peter's shoulders and threatens to snap his neck.

It's too soon, Peter reminds himself, to think about these things, and it's easy to forget when he's close like he is, anyway.

Coming around from his self-pity, he sees that Jason is in a similar way in his own head and Peter untangles his hand from Jason's to cup the opposing line of his jaw. "Hey." It's a gentle call back to Earth, like being snuggled awake from a bad dream by loving arms. "They're proud of you. They'd be crazy not to be." He nuzzles in for a tender, reassuring kiss. "And when your Notre Dame letter comes, I'll sit down with you and you can leave a nice, passive-aggressive message with his secretary. Then, we'll celebrate our own way." And continue to celebrate once they're together at Notre Dame, he hopes. "I just don't know if I'll get in, Jason." His class rank isn't as high as Jason's and he's not sure there's a scholarship for being the Golden Boy's secret boyfriend. The way he averts his eyes for a second tells this wordless tale for him. He would give anything to be Jason's 'roommate' for the rest of time. Ideally, a word substitution would take place, and maybe Notre Dame is the ticket, so he remains hopeful.