Jason wants to frame that nose wrinkle. He wants to frame it and wrap it in soft blankets and carry it around in his hands like a child running around with his favorite stuffed animal, he adores it that much. There's something so innocent and wondrous about how Peter's whole face lights up with that one gesture. It's its own kind of magic, and Jason is utterly enthralled; it gives him courage and lends him strength. Peter's expressions of love enable Jason's boldness.

Jason knows what it is he's just said. His chest tightens, and the tips of his fingers are trembling. But he smiles crookedly at Peter; he ignores his own shaky breaths. He knows what he's said.

"I would like it very much if you kissed me." The words are hardly louder than a whisper. They fall like wayward snowflakes from Jason's lips. His own countenance is flushed; warmed by the heat Peter's closeness inspires in him, and the possiblity that looms before them now. Jason scuffles his feet a bit, as though he were ten and nervous again.