The way Magnus minces sexuality with all of the comfort of being around a childhood best friend is fascinating to Peter. In all of his winking, touching, grinning, Magnus never feels predatory to Peter. It's a balance he didn't see often back in Cecilia's hallowed halls; every couple of people that were touching (that weren't Peter and Jason) were doing so with such intense inappropriateness and it was all so desperately charged. When Peter bumps Magnus or Magnus bumps Peter back, he feels all of the thrill of welcome contact without any of the messy urgency that causes bad decisions to be made. So uncomplicated. A month with Magnus has felt more like home than any summer back in Arizona.
"That's because I'm always at Jason's," Peter explains with a fond shake of his head. "I try to inject something edible into his diet once a day, but I'm not always successful. Did you know Slim Jims have no expiration date? I can't imagine what's in there." He shudders. He doesn't even want to know. He's eaten a Slim Jim or two in desperation between class and rehearsal, but every time it was grosser than the last. He'd almost been desperate enough the other day, but that was the day he went shopping with Magnus after a delightful, glitter-infused sandwich.
Speaking of which, "your sandwiches are a part of our friendship. I've grown accustomed to certain standard of living, thanks to you." Why is this so easy, he wonders for the millionth time. Once his glass is full and the toast has been delivered, he settles to lean against the wall next to his friend. "I'll cook whenever you want but this is a two-way street.
"And we can watch other things, you know." He finds Magnus' enchanted eyes to shrug. "I'll even let you pick the music." The wine is good and it's the first drop of alcohol he's had since arriving, so he's looking forward to any kind of warmth he can generate against the biting cold he's recently stepped in from.
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"That's because I'm always at Jason's," Peter explains with a fond shake of his head. "I try to inject something edible into his diet once a day, but I'm not always successful. Did you know Slim Jims have no expiration date? I can't imagine what's in there." He shudders. He doesn't even want to know. He's eaten a Slim Jim or two in desperation between class and rehearsal, but every time it was grosser than the last. He'd almost been desperate enough the other day, but that was the day he went shopping with Magnus after a delightful, glitter-infused sandwich.
Speaking of which, "your sandwiches are a part of our friendship. I've grown accustomed to certain standard of living, thanks to you." Why is this so easy, he wonders for the millionth time. Once his glass is full and the toast has been delivered, he settles to lean against the wall next to his friend. "I'll cook whenever you want but this is a two-way street.
"And we can watch other things, you know." He finds Magnus' enchanted eyes to shrug. "I'll even let you pick the music." The wine is good and it's the first drop of alcohol he's had since arriving, so he's looking forward to any kind of warmth he can generate against the biting cold he's recently stepped in from.