As comforting and expectant as the silence is, Peter enjoys his lover's voice just as much. The way he speaks is intoxicating, his cadence as smooth as the lips that shape the words. When Jason speaks, it's like poetry to him, even in the form of stupid puns, lewd comments, and even the teasing. It's all the music of Jason, and Peter wants to hear it on endless loop.
He's got a frustratingly good singer, too, Peter reminds himself. Compromises with his mother finally culminated in a few years of voice lessons, and only after that and the constant nurturing of Sister Chantelle and her predecessor at the middle school was Peter able to sing with any proficiency. When Peter catches Jason singing to himself, he hears perfect pitch and this rich voice that is so purely Jason. Only once or twice has Jason been singing loud enough a song that Peter knows well enough that he felt he could join in, and his soul thrives in those few moments of harmony. When Jason sings the melody and Peter has his wits about him enough to find the 5th above or below, it's like gospel to him.
Here, on top of Jason, Peter finds himself light-headed, again. He drapes himself on top of Jason carefully in the safety of a kiss. He can feel the blood migrating away from his brain, again, that familiar coil threatening to unravel with sparks of electricity. He closes his eyes against Jason in an effort to get ahold of himself. After a moment, he looks at his watch, discarded on the bedside. "It's 6:30," Peter breathes, turning his eyes back to his lover. "We have 15 minutes to get to the cafeteria if we want to eat." The school always serves dinner the night before the first day of the school year, but it is scarcely populated. It might be a good way to take a breather, and Peter's body definitely feels the need to refuel, just in case he'll need the stamina.
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He's got a frustratingly good singer, too, Peter reminds himself. Compromises with his mother finally culminated in a few years of voice lessons, and only after that and the constant nurturing of Sister Chantelle and her predecessor at the middle school was Peter able to sing with any proficiency. When Peter catches Jason singing to himself, he hears perfect pitch and this rich voice that is so purely Jason. Only once or twice has Jason been singing loud enough a song that Peter knows well enough that he felt he could join in, and his soul thrives in those few moments of harmony. When Jason sings the melody and Peter has his wits about him enough to find the 5th above or below, it's like gospel to him.
Here, on top of Jason, Peter finds himself light-headed, again. He drapes himself on top of Jason carefully in the safety of a kiss. He can feel the blood migrating away from his brain, again, that familiar coil threatening to unravel with sparks of electricity. He closes his eyes against Jason in an effort to get ahold of himself. After a moment, he looks at his watch, discarded on the bedside. "It's 6:30," Peter breathes, turning his eyes back to his lover. "We have 15 minutes to get to the cafeteria if we want to eat." The school always serves dinner the night before the first day of the school year, but it is scarcely populated. It might be a good way to take a breather, and Peter's body definitely feels the need to refuel, just in case he'll need the stamina.