The words send a tremor through him, eyes squeezed shut against all that they bring. There's only one thing he can do, bringing his own shaky lips up to meet Peter's, fingers curling against his jawline. His heart is pounding fast as they kiss, feeling as though another layer has been stripped away; a weight lifted off his chest even as Peter's weight bears down on him.

This place, that he hated, that he blamed Peter for conjuring--it had brought him equilibrium.