The tension that's created when Jason actually tugs at his hair sends a shock of pleasure through Peter's spent, over-stimulated body. He shudders, tries to moan but can only gasp a bit as the tremor runs through him. He continues to knead and suck and kiss at his boyfriend's mouth with his own, pace and urgency slackening as Jason's body begins to wind down with Peter's. Once he's guided himself out of Jason, his arm unwinds from around his boyfriend's middle. He realizes his hand is stiff from how hard he's been holding him and he huffs out a breath of something like an apology. Once he can feel his fingers, he takes the condom off. A few kisses get pressed in a line across Jason's shoulders before Peter pulls him back into his lap to hold him. This is, of course, more or less a ruse so Peter can, as Jason had mere hours ago, lick his other hand clean where Jason can see. He wants to smirk, he tries, but he's still in a post-orgasmic daze, drunk on Jason.

"Fuck," Peter breathes finally. He leans back against the headboard and takes Jason with him. He has no intention of letting Jason out of his lap for as long as he can possibly get away with it.