Jason's little kiss produces the result he's looking for: Peter smiles a little wider; it warms from the epicenter of the contact outward. The waves reach his heart and he manages to somehow tighten his arms around Jason further.
"He's wrong," Peter says. His mouth is very near to Jason's ear, so he doesn't speak up too much. Now, he presses a kiss just below Jason's earlobe. "You're going to get into Notre Dame with or without track. You're going to be St. Cecilia's Valedictorian and you'll captain the lacrosse team and tennis and whatever else you suffer through to make your asshole dad happy. You'll give a speech, your dad will pretend to be a human being for graduation day, and then we'll go off to Notre Dame and never look back. Fuck him." He's managed a soothing, gentle tone as he recites this fantasy, but he means the last two words too much for them to stay level. He wants to add that Jason will now be free to nab the lead in Romeo and Juliet since he's out of track -- he knows that's what he wants -- but there's no point in kicking Jason while he's down. He's that special kind of down that only his father can push him to, and Peter knows he's the only one that can bring him back. He's happy to help and relieved to be needed.
With all of the same care and warmth he's wrapped Jason up in until this point, he cups his cheek and turns his head a bit to kiss Jason's mouth, full-on and soft. He finds salvation. Only after the kiss lingers for so long and not nearly long enough does Peter address his statement. His cheeks burn hot at the high praise, but they're close enough that Peter figures Jason can feel it better than he can see it.
"No," he says, hand sliding down thin shirt fabric to feel the beat of Jason's racing heart. "But I'm yours." And he's proud to be, even if that's not allowed.
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"He's wrong," Peter says. His mouth is very near to Jason's ear, so he doesn't speak up too much. Now, he presses a kiss just below Jason's earlobe. "You're going to get into Notre Dame with or without track. You're going to be St. Cecilia's Valedictorian and you'll captain the lacrosse team and tennis and whatever else you suffer through to make your asshole dad happy. You'll give a speech, your dad will pretend to be a human being for graduation day, and then we'll go off to Notre Dame and never look back. Fuck him." He's managed a soothing, gentle tone as he recites this fantasy, but he means the last two words too much for them to stay level. He wants to add that Jason will now be free to nab the lead in Romeo and Juliet since he's out of track -- he knows that's what he wants -- but there's no point in kicking Jason while he's down. He's that special kind of down that only his father can push him to, and Peter knows he's the only one that can bring him back. He's happy to help and relieved to be needed.
With all of the same care and warmth he's wrapped Jason up in until this point, he cups his cheek and turns his head a bit to kiss Jason's mouth, full-on and soft. He finds salvation. Only after the kiss lingers for so long and not nearly long enough does Peter address his statement. His cheeks burn hot at the high praise, but they're close enough that Peter figures Jason can feel it better than he can see it.
"No," he says, hand sliding down thin shirt fabric to feel the beat of Jason's racing heart. "But I'm yours." And he's proud to be, even if that's not allowed.