One, he's too busy breathing through his aches and pains to remember that he's supposed to be pissed. And then Charlie has his hand on his shoulder, and-- there's something instantly calming about his touch, like coming inside from playing in the snow and Mom pressing a warm mug of hot chocolate in his hands. Like sinking into bed after a long day of shooting people in the face. Like landing in a storm and listening to the rain beat out a constant rhythm on the hull. Peter sighs and thinks, oh, thank god.
Two, he jerks away, rolling onto his back and aggravating every fucking bruise from the mess that was tonight, and he bites back a moan. ]
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One, he's too busy breathing through his aches and pains to remember that he's supposed to be pissed. And then Charlie has his hand on his shoulder, and-- there's something instantly calming about his touch, like coming inside from playing in the snow and Mom pressing a warm mug of hot chocolate in his hands. Like sinking into bed after a long day of shooting people in the face. Like landing in a storm and listening to the rain beat out a constant rhythm on the hull. Peter sighs and thinks, oh, thank god.
Two, he jerks away, rolling onto his back and aggravating every fucking bruise from the mess that was tonight, and he bites back a moan. ]
Fuck. Don't-- don't fucking touch me, okay?