Peter slowly crept backwards, feeling his pulse beating slowly on his backside, until he was sitting on the edge of the couch again. His throat bobbed in a dry swallow, his expression still caught in confusion and wonder. He looked to Simon, trying to read what he had thought of all of that, if Simon had enjoyed it or it was the clinical, easy tone that Mitch had kept. Did he influence Simon like Simon did him?

"Nothing worse?" Quiet, but it felt like he was testing his voice again. "...for a first infraction?" But Peter wasn't running. He wasn't insulted or disgusted or anything else. Instead, accent a little thicker, voice a little thicker... he had enjoyed it, but he didn't know what to make of that fact just yet.