The honesty, Christ. It's a miracle Stephen's breath doesn't catch in his throat when Peter says he's lonely, magic as the word is. Still, in some attempt at holding himself together, Stephen turns away and pretends it's so he can focus on getting his boots back in place.
When did he get so soft?
His left boot is tied all the way up now. His teeth dig lightly into his lip, and his eyes linger on the right one still undone. If he looks Peter in the eye once more-- sees how earnest those big brown eyes are alongside the admittedly pathetic sound of his voice-- he'll be lost.
"I'd be worth that to you, huh?" he says, tone even. Stephen struggles not to sound cold.
"You'd just... figure out inter-dimensional travel. For our inter-dimensional booty calls." The term, though joking, comes out fonder than he intended.
Corner of his mouth ticking up slightly, his shaking hands take hold of the ends of his right boot's laces. Stephen puts them together carefully, clearing his throat.
"Well... that'd be creating the capacity to travel to my world in yours, technically," he says. "That'd be you adding multiversal mobility to the laws of this universe through your invention. It..."
It's ridiculous. And even if Peter hadn't intended for it to make any real sense, it's the most brilliant way for them to still see each other without breaking the tenuous threads of the multiverse.
"It'd work."
Stephen straightens, boot laced, and keeps looking at the wall in front of him.
"You wouldn't be breaking any rules," he murmurs, finally glancing over his shoulder once more. The corners of his eyes crinkle with his smile. "Just making new ones."
The pit of self-doubt in his gut feels like it's slowly turning into a black hole- any joy Stephen had brought to him being sucked from his fibers into the vast nothingness inside of him.
He knows Stephen needs to go. Anything else is abhorrently selfish, and that's against what they both stand for.
So, he attempts to think about the fact that maybe, just maybe, he can make it work.
"Well, yeah. I mean, you've managed to cross dimensions through magic, and according to Clarke's three laws, any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. So... it's not that I can't do it, I just don't understand the science behind it yet."
Peter's uncertain he's hiding his diffidence well- he's not- but he's almost certain that the sorcerer's limited eye contact means he's in the same boat about ending this. And, if anything, he finds a shred of solace that he's not leaving because he wants to, just as Peter's not letting him go of his own volition.
Finally, a slightly more sincere smile tilts the corner of his lips upwards.
"If I'm going to figure this out, though, I can't have you finding another pathetic little thing to shack up with on your Earth. I mean, I'm about to- safely- tear a hole through the dimensions. So, you know, if there's any chance you're aware of where someone's gonna steal your heart, I'd rather you tell me now-"
Though, as he cuts himself off, there's a look of don't wait too long on me shining in his eyes.
Sure, Peter's smart and can do a lot, but he's not entirely certain interdimensional travel is in his wheelhouse.
