In between bursts of wobbling breaths, Jason lets out soft, desperate whimpering noises as he unravels beneath Peter's touch. Jason never lets himself come undone so thoroughly like this unless Peter is the one encouraging him; Peter, who always encourages and supports him, making him writhe and moan as though he needs every aspect of Peter to survive. Jason, always so put together and casually cool, melts into a fine mess in Peter's hands. And while he's still capable of coherent thoughts, he thinks of how much he desperately needs to lose control like this. How much he needs Peter to help him fall apart so he can find his strength in the pieces of himself afterwards. Jason wants and needs Peter to reduce him to the most quivering kind of jello; this is evident in the frequency with which Jason lets Peter's name fall from his lips.

Peter's gaze flicks up to meet Jason's, and Jason feels his entire body tighten at the sensation that sparks within him. He groans and whines all at once, letting that gorgeous, green gaze wash over him like bath water lapping at his skin; the heated expression he finds there is enough to make Jason arc his hips more wantonly towards Peter's mouth, begging without words as one tightens in the sheets and the other tangles further in Peter's hair. As soon as he feels a finger sliding inside him alongside those perfect, swollen lips closing over him, Jason whole body arches nearly off the bed; his legs shake as they struggle to find purchase in the bed and he lets out a mangled, obscene noise. "Fuck, Peter, fuck yes, oh God, please more, please, please," he mewls as he tries to keep his dizzied gaze focused on Peter, entire body shaking as he continues falling apart.

And then Peter's pulling back, and Jason whines, hips snapping up in desperation to regain contact. But that smirk. Oh God, that fucking smirk. Jason can't tear his gaze from that damn smirk and the way it steals his breath and makes Peter look so fucking cocky and fucking hell Jesus Jason's never been so attracted to any one smirk before. God, he hopes Peter still wears it when he's fucking Jason senseless. "Peter please," he begs, past the point of caring about his dignity. He's pulsing all over, covered in sweat, and feeling so deliciously exposed with his legs parted wide for Peter. "Peter please. I need you. Fuck me."

And those words goddamn. Those words just before Peter takes Jason wholly into his mouth and presses deeper with that one finger. "Oh. Oh. Shit." Jason has to gag himself with the hand not entangled in Peter's hair to suppress the sudden, near shriek that erupts from him at the sensation. Jason has lost control completely over his own hips, bucking wildly into Peter's mouth and against that finger, desperately seeking more friction. Jason feels feverish and nearly delirious; Peter is his own personal drug, and he can't get enough of him.