Surprised by the reaction getting exactly what he wanted from Jason and the accompanying wildfire it starts in his entire midsection, Peter gasps. He's not sure (and he doesn't care) whether Jason's touch or his words that sends him past the point of clear thought. As much as he wants to lie below Jason as he worships him with his words and touch, but it's not enough, anymore. He clutches at the back of Jason's neck, tangling his slender fingers in the damp, tousled tufts of Jason's hair.

"Please," Peter all but whimpers, flexing his arm to tug Jason down to his lips again. He's frenzied, but he's all in one place, body and soul, and he's feeling greedy. "Please, God, Jason, please." Even through the haze this mewling turns his cheeks and ears red. Somewhere, floating about himself, he knows he's lost control, but either he can't pull the strings to get himself together or he doesn't want to.