"Mmmhmm," Peter agrees with Jason's noise of a comment, chuckling a bit as he presses a kiss over the damp hair atop Jason's head. His arms drape easily over Jason's shoulders, but his hands do not rest on Jason's chest. Instead, he slides his fingertips with featherlight touch in wide, lazy circles over his skin. He doesn't even notice he's doing it; his eyes close as his head comes to rest against the top of Jason's.
As he catches his breath, he listens to the way Jason's own breathing goes from hitching sips to cyclical arcs that swell and subside. He finds perfect peace at the apex of his companion's breaths and finds that he is matching his inhalations to Jason's.
It is impossible not to laugh delightedly when Jason covers his face like that. The Jason that the outside world would recognize has no shame, no threshold for embarrassment. Peter's Jason is hiding his face after being fucked thoroughly enough that he fails honest attempts at speech. A kiss of worshipful adoration gets pressed behind Jason's ear.
"You doing okay?" He asks, only just a little (okay, more than a little, but there's some honesty in the question, too) smug.
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As he catches his breath, he listens to the way Jason's own breathing goes from hitching sips to cyclical arcs that swell and subside. He finds perfect peace at the apex of his companion's breaths and finds that he is matching his inhalations to Jason's.
It is impossible not to laugh delightedly when Jason covers his face like that. The Jason that the outside world would recognize has no shame, no threshold for embarrassment. Peter's Jason is hiding his face after being fucked thoroughly enough that he fails honest attempts at speech. A kiss of worshipful adoration gets pressed behind Jason's ear.
"You doing okay?" He asks, only just a little (okay, more than a little, but there's some honesty in the question, too) smug.