It bubbles up again, the voice in Jack’s head telling him this is a bad idea. The voice telling him that he should, under no circumstances, climb on the back of a kid who quite possibly hasn’t even finished puberty yet. If the voice is anything to go by. Also, assuming he’s human. Which, in all fairness, Jack knows is a hell of an assumption in this place.

But he’s tired. And he doesn’t want to walk. So, fuck it. A running theme, this week. He said he was in. He’s in.

Jack wraps his arms around Peter’s neck. More specifically, he wraps them around his upper shoulders, bracing himself so that he won’t choke him.

He’s hot really certain that it’s going to work until they’re off the ground. Very high off the ground. Moving very quickly. That’s a hell of a thing. Around the second handoff, that half second of weightlessness at the apex of the arc, Jack laughs. “Hell of a trick, kid. Where are you from?”