Poor Jason, Peter thinks. As they walk, their arms swing and brush. Every time, Peter feels the tenseness of his shoulders and assumes it's the impending hurtful words and loaded promises that Jason is walking gloomily toward. So, Peter stays close, caring less and less about what other people might think as Jason falls more and more apart. HE watches his best friend as they walk. He can see little slivers of Jason's essence -- the man behind the smiles and bullshit boyish charm -- fall away. He imagines perfect little ribbons floating feather-like down into nothingness. Not for the first time, Peter finds himself wondering what happens if the last little bit falls away.
Their destination sneaks up on Peter, as well. Paused outside the building, Peter keeps his gaze: their only tool for translation, since they are not allowed to speak the truth. "I'll be here," he says softly, simply. Only this time, he has the luxury of meaning what he's said.
Several moments of watching Jason as he heads toward the phone pass before he sits down at another to call his mom. Peter can't hear Jason speaking yet, but Claire answers the phone, as usual, on the second ring.
"Hi, Mom."
"Peter!" She's so excited to hear from him that he can't help but smile. It slips away when he hears Jason's voice: he already sounds defeated. "Honey, how are you? Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," Peter is speaking lowly so he can better hear what's happening one room over. "I just wanted to say thanks for driving me all the way out here."
"Of course, Peter!" He can hear the smile in her voice just as he can hear Jason get shut down by his father. The juxtaposition is not lost on him. His heart aches with sympathy for Jason and hatred for Jason's father and wanting so, so badly to tell his mom any and all of this. "I'm going to send you some food later in the week."
"Thanks, Mom. Hey, did you make it to Grandma and Grandpa's okay?" Success; one simple question and Claire's off, babbling about traffic to New Jersey and her senile parents and Peter's excuse for a father. He tunes in and out, mostly listening for the telltale sound of the next phone's receiver hitting the base station. It comes and Peter's off the phone like a shot with an excuse about dinner, a couple of promises about being good. He's barely finished telling her he loves her before the phone's back in the cradle and Peter's up and by Jason's side. A tender hand falls very carefully on his shoulder, though he wants to be reckless as hell.
"Hey." He's gently calling his boyfriend back to Earth, not for the first time that evening. Once he has his gaze, he continues, voice overflowing with love. "Come on. Let's go back to the dorms." Their own dorm is only a few buildings over and there, he can wrap himself around Jason while he listens, soothes, and kisses him back to fighting shape. They always get there, and Peter takes such comfort in those moment where they're strong for each other.
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Their destination sneaks up on Peter, as well. Paused outside the building, Peter keeps his gaze: their only tool for translation, since they are not allowed to speak the truth. "I'll be here," he says softly, simply. Only this time, he has the luxury of meaning what he's said.
Several moments of watching Jason as he heads toward the phone pass before he sits down at another to call his mom. Peter can't hear Jason speaking yet, but Claire answers the phone, as usual, on the second ring.
"Hi, Mom."
"Peter!" She's so excited to hear from him that he can't help but smile. It slips away when he hears Jason's voice: he already sounds defeated. "Honey, how are you? Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," Peter is speaking lowly so he can better hear what's happening one room over. "I just wanted to say thanks for driving me all the way out here."
"Of course, Peter!" He can hear the smile in her voice just as he can hear Jason get shut down by his father. The juxtaposition is not lost on him. His heart aches with sympathy for Jason and hatred for Jason's father and wanting so, so badly to tell his mom any and all of this. "I'm going to send you some food later in the week."
"Thanks, Mom. Hey, did you make it to Grandma and Grandpa's okay?" Success; one simple question and Claire's off, babbling about traffic to New Jersey and her senile parents and Peter's excuse for a father. He tunes in and out, mostly listening for the telltale sound of the next phone's receiver hitting the base station. It comes and Peter's off the phone like a shot with an excuse about dinner, a couple of promises about being good. He's barely finished telling her he loves her before the phone's back in the cradle and Peter's up and by Jason's side. A tender hand falls very carefully on his shoulder, though he wants to be reckless as hell.
"Hey." He's gently calling his boyfriend back to Earth, not for the first time that evening. Once he has his gaze, he continues, voice overflowing with love. "Come on. Let's go back to the dorms." Their own dorm is only a few buildings over and there, he can wrap himself around Jason while he listens, soothes, and kisses him back to fighting shape. They always get there, and Peter takes such comfort in those moment where they're strong for each other.