Jason feels his breath as it falters in his chest as Peter steps in closer. Jason's whole being tightens, like a wound up rubber band precisely before it's flung. This is a definite step for himself, small as it may be. Like one of his favorite Christmas movies says, 'it's one foot in front of the other.' Jason can't help his nerves, but he also refuses to succumb to them. Not this time. Not when Peter's here, moving in closer, and the space between them diminishes so wonderfully, like the flickering light of a fading candle.

He lets out a soft breath at Peter's hand on his cheek, leaning into the touch. Anyone glancing at the two of them that moment would be able to see the depths of what Jason feels for Peter in the way he almost sways into his hand. The warmth from both the cider and Peter's own essence rushes through Jason like a fever. And then Peter's kissing him, and Jason doesn't give one single damn about anything or anyone else in the room surrounding them.

It's a quick kiss, but fervent and loving. Jason kisses back as much as he can before Peter pulls back. And then Peter's holding his hand again, and Jason's smiling so wide his face hurts.

"Thank you," he tells him.