Peter's smirk morphed into something far more sincere at hearing Rory say he'd wanted him over any number of meaningless strangers. Not that Peter had any illusions of this being the start of something more than what it was but it meant Rory attached a deeper meaning to their friendship and his own personal wants. Peter certainly didn't mind helping him scratch whatever itch he had.

"You know," Peter arched his back and pressed their bodies closer, Rory's hand caught against his stomach and between them both, "what I want."

His hand slid further along Rory's back, over shapely muscle and his thumb found the straight line of the taller man's spine, running firmly along that gentle dip and following it from the small of his back to just between his shoulder blades. If Rory wanted something more aggressive than a simpering fan, he could have that.