It's not as if Adam intends to stop him, letting the pad of his thumb stroke across Peter's cheek. His legs tangle with Peter's and he catches himself in a contented sigh, contrast to his moments earlier trepidation. His free hand starts around Peter's waist, dragging across his skin in an attempt to pull him even closer.

"Peter," he's spoken before he knows it, lips moving against the slighter man's still. He wonders how much meaning he could pack into that one word, if Peter will understand just by osmosis or other nonverbal means of communication. Apologizing is one thing; asking the question he's always wanted to know is truly another.

Instead of releasing the woes of his heart, he allows them to dwindle, tightening his chest as he rests here against Peter. Whatever answers he could get from the other man now surely don't matter. And even if they did, he knows he doesn't want them.