(okay, after this i am going to bed. *yawns*)


peter laughs. isn't sure how he manages it, is relatively certain he shouldn't be able to manage it, but he laughs. "we?" is the only thing he can manage to say, that single syllable, and then he hisses out sharply between clenched teeth, grinding down until he can feel the strain in his jaw.

he concentrates on that, on the finite things, the concrete ones, because that's his.

peter loves his brother, but not like this.


(uh. my peter has control issues, apparently.)