Jason's thought thought that they've not tangled themselves together this quickly after reuniting before today is echoed in Peter's own thoughts. The still-increasing intensity that quakes inside him sends an aftershock all the way up his spine, through his neck. There, working his mouth over Jason, kneading and squeezing his hands over his hips, he feels like Jason needs him -- like a summer of a few, stolen phone calls and nagging, burning questions that Peter feels will never be answered is worth it. Words like "forever" have meaning, again.

Exhilarated as he is simply guiding Jason in and out his mouth by his hips, he knows he needs to keep hearing Jason's voice, and he knows that he needs more of him. Hands can no longer stay still, they travel everywhere and anywhere he can reach in a frenzy of caresses and tugs. A low, uneven moan escapes him. He's breathless and dizzy and he wants Jason in every possible way simultaneously, as is evident by his state, both mental and physical.