Sorry this took me so long to get to! Life has been, well…what life sometimes is.
Honestly, It kind of blows me away every time you guys tell me that. I can think of at least a dozen others who I feel do our boy so much justice in so many ways that I don’t. You guys are lovely.
For a long time, Peter would most definitely be bashful and red-cheeked when it came to showing and being on the receiving end of affection.
The way his eyes crinkled and complimented perfectly the rosy color of
the skin beneath freckles and over too-big ears sticking out from under
messy curls mused by anxious fingertips on their way to a blushing neck never failed to put a smile on your face. A smile that melted into the crook of his burning, burning neck as you pulled him into you and held; your heart thrilled with how his body responded to yours, how it told you what his nervous lips couldn’t just yet.The nervous chuckle, raised eyebrow, awkward neck rub combo quickly became your favorite reaction to draw from him when your fingers reached for his and chests and faces teased each other with their closeness.
Sweaty palm meeting with the equally damp palm of your own became something comfortable and known.
Sometimes, when he was really nervous and his bravery had taken to hiding itself away beneath a mask made of words spoken too quickly, eager glances, and averted eyes, lips seeking warm flesh; hovering but never quite finding their mark, he would wrap a delicately calloused pinky finger around yours; catching you in the web of fleshed out affection; an elastic band finger snapping free from his disguise, mask left dangling where four fingers hung limp and afraid of what he couldn’t know walked freely in the space between bodies.
His fingertips would be warm and damp, sweaty with excitement and a little shaky as they brushed against your jaw, caressing your cheeks before pulling you closer. Cautious, but glittering eyes like a warm cup of tea beneath the stars, eyelashes fluttering, fine hairs hesitating in their closing as his take your eyes in; asking, answering; butterflies from both stomachs fluttering between amber ridges as self conscious lids closed and lips made of raw sugar met in ways that were far more familiar and intimate than nerves would have hearts believe.
Despite the pounding of his heart that you could almost hear and yet, most assuredly feel beating against your chest, his lips would always curl into a smile against yours; skin catching as chapped, rosy flesh smoothed over blushing cheeks.
In private, Peter punctuated every expression of the heart with his own delivery route of kisses: the corner of your mouth, his still painted with content, the place your cheeks dimpled, your forehead, your temple, just so, the tip of his almost-straight nose pushing at the fine hairs above your ear. When he pulled away, his eyes were a little more confident, his cheeks and ears blazing red with admiration, with longing; an ache to be more, to ask more.
With time, Peter finds himself; who he is, what he means, how he feels, and everything he’s sparked in you. With time, Peter finds his confidence and often leaves you blushing with how bold and assured he is in his affection.
He kisses like he knows all of the answers to every question in your heart; he touches and holds you like he is the word to fill every line left blank in your soul. Cautious, semi-colon lips turn into exclamation marks; half-grins turn into half-smirks that encourage this new warmth to spread through every part of you.
You blush when he touches you because you know now that the color on his cheeks is the same color that paints his shoulders and his chest when that ache that had been in his eyes for as long as he’d known you; that chronic ache, suddenly becomes acute as it spreads from his eyes, to every part of him, bleeds into you and demands attention.
With time, when he blushes, it’s not because he’s nervous, or because he’s remembered how shy he maybe should be sometimes when it comes to you, it’s because he doesn’t have to wonder anymore. It’s because he knows.
I hope this was maybe what you were wanting.
i feel like, as well as everyone else, i just know you as like the one who writes peter so perfectly? so just kissing peter dude, do you reckon he’s still shy in his kisses, barely grazing and always hesitating a moment before? i always believe that peter is the softest boy and that even if you’re together, he’ll still blush about kisses on the cheek and won’t be able to stop grinning when you kiss him (i’m just ranting i would rly love a peter to kiss me rn)
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Toad's Cave 