( It still doesn't make any real logical sense, but Peter's being led by something much deeper than that, a place of emotion, of innate feeling — something that comes from his spirit. He can't even remember the boy's name but he thinks he needs him close. Whether to offer him comfort or to be comforted, or maybe it's both.
The permission comes with a wavery smile, and Peter swallows again, hoping the boy isn't afraid of him. But somehow, he doesn't think he is. So he slowly moves to him, his arms opening to slide around the boy. At first it's cautious, but then it's warm — Peter relaxing into the sensation of the younger body. (Maybe younger than he remembers? Or maybe as young as Will was when Peter first met him those few years ago; it's like he's aged backwards, a little). This fact is somehow accepted, Peter exhaling softly as his eyes flutter closed. )
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The permission comes with a wavery smile, and Peter swallows again, hoping the boy isn't afraid of him. But somehow, he doesn't think he is. So he slowly moves to him, his arms opening to slide around the boy. At first it's cautious, but then it's warm — Peter relaxing into the sensation of the younger body. (Maybe younger than he remembers? Or maybe as young as Will was when Peter first met him those few years ago; it's like he's aged backwards, a little). This fact is somehow accepted, Peter exhaling softly as his eyes flutter closed. )
I'm glad you're here.