Peter's holding his hand so tightly, it almost hurts. But Jason doesn't care; the almost-pain is so worth it for the expression on Peter's face. The brightness in his eyes, and the way his own soul seems to soar from the aftermath of that kiss and the way their hands still fit perfectly together after all of this time. This is the opposite of so many stolen moments at Saint Cecilia's. This is lightness and love and openness. And while all of that still intimidates Jason in some ways, he finds that, mostly, he has yet another reason to be especially grateful this Thanksgiving.

Peter thanks him too, and then he's giggling. Jason snorts, almost rolls his eyes out of sheer fondness, and then he's giggling too. It is a little absurd, the politeness of thanking someone for a kiss. But Jason knows Peter deserves to hear such thanks. He owes so much more gratitude to Peter, he knows. Peter rests his head on Jason's shoulder, and Jason, in turn, presses his head against his, following Peter's gaze to the room around them. It's hard to believe that could have ever found such a warm environment full of open people accepting of who they are. It's so goddamn wonderful.

Jason's stomach answers Peter's inquiry for him with a loud and rumbly growl. Jason blushes, ducking his head a bit. "My stomach says hell yes," he says, grinning.