Jason hopes that one day he will be able to give Peter what he deserves: to hear Jason tell him that he loves him in words instead of actions. Jason prays that he will someday obtain the courage he sees flaring in Peter every time he kisses him and tells Jason he loves him. Love is as frightening as it is beautiful; like a thunderstorm. Jason wants so much to feel free enough to declare his love out loud. If only he weren't afraid of being struck by lightning. But sometimes, even in their little world, Jason can feel the singe of his father's expectations. He can hear exactly what he would say, and he winces. And he wishes that he could be stronger for Peter. Jason knows, more than anything, how much Peter deserves the world.

That touch, so lovely and so assuring, inspires Jason to shake off those thoughts, for the moment. Peter's hand is a balm; a pilgrim's grace that washes away Jason's sins of doubt and insecurity, however temporarily. Jason tilts his head into Peter's hand, leaning and breathing in that tender sign of affection. He sighs and lets out something of a mewl at the kiss, returning it with as much tenderness. "Pure genius, as always," he tells Peter, smiling at the thought of leaving such a message for his dad's secretary. His grin grows softer and more genuine as he dwells on the ways he can celebrate with Peter, however. "I don't know what I would do without that brain of yours." Jason leans in to press a kiss to Peter's forehead, letting one hand soothe back the damp, red curls he loves so much.

He catches the uncertainty in the way Peter suddenly looks away from him, and instinctively, he tugs Peter closer to him, peppering him with soft, sweet kisses from his forehead to his nose to his mouth. "Hey," Jason says, flashing that trademark grin reserved just for Peter. "You'll get in. I know you will. You're brilliant, Peter." He presses another kiss to Peter's lips. A teasing light illuminates his blue eyes, then. "You're such a boyscout, how could anyone say no to those eyes of yours?"