That mouth Peter loves so much swells with every noise escaping from it, unable to remain entirely closed for long as Peter continues to ease Jason into falling apart. Jason is nearly entirely lost within all of the sensations Peter is inspiring within him with both his mouth around his dick and his fingers inside of him. Any remnants of his composure linger in the beads of sweat on both his body and the sheets around him; his dark curls cling to his forehead and his eyes, when they can manage to stay open beneath fluttering eyelids, are blown blue and wide as though caught in a perpetual flash of the camera. Jason can feel the way his unraveling affects Peter in each touch; it thrills him more. His trembling and shaking becomes more pronounced.

He also catches a glimpse of the self-control in Peter, too. He gasps at it; his fingers curl deeper in his hair and in the sheets around him. The way Peter can appear so composed while Jason is a quaking wreck of a mess only encourages his arousal further; he whines, bringing his hand in the sheets to clutch against the wood of the headboard behind him, desperately seeking purchase for the shocking pleasure sparking all throughout him.

"Oh. Oh. Fuck." Jason jerks at that second finger entering him as Peter moans around him; he breaks his gaze as his head falls back against the pillows, his neck arching with his back at the intensity of the sensation. His hips keep snapping up and down between Peter's mouth and his fingers, needing both so badly, Jason begins to ache from the wanting. And then Peter's other hand moves around his thigh and hip to cup his ass; Jason lets out a shuddering breath, pressing himself further into Peter's touch and mouth. He's whining, now, his head thrashing a bit on the pillows as he tries to keep himself steady with the hand on the headboard.

"Peter."

The name, spoken as reverently as that of a saint, falls from between his teeth, biting down on his lower lip, as Jason continues to writhe and unravel.