( A laugh escapes Peter before he can catch it and carefully tuck it away — a soft and quiet sound, but genuine all the same. A rarity for him; he doesn't really laugh openly that much. But there's an amusement at the younger teen's reaction, and he's glad he decided to push through his own self-doubt (gift-giving, forever a source of anxiety) and bring the particular item. It's one of the few decisions Peter's made for himself in a very long time. )

Oh— it's probably better if we go somewhere we can sit down. Somewhere soft, I mean.

( Weed goes best with cushions, in his humble opinion. )

Is your room okay? Or we could try the living room, find a quiet corner to get high in.

( Preferably away from.... skeletons.... )