newyorknative | Yes I want you, and that’s the way it is

Entry tags:

fiyero tigelaar : winkieprince

Yes I want you, and that’s the way it is

[ aka wicked ii: lost in new york ]

Fiyero isn't used to things being good in this way. He performs the careless optimist, and in some ways he is - but not entirely. He's quickly gone all in on this relationship, because he simply can't not do so. And he just... tries not to think about the future too much.

But the future does tend to come for them, currently in the shape of a misdelivered text. Fiyero can easily read on Peter's expression that he was indeed right. Peter did send it to May - and it was very obviously a mistake. Fiyero, upon seeing it, had been trying to find reasons why Peter would send a picture like that to her. And, well, turns out he wouldn't. Not intentionally.

Fiyero sits up a bit too, resting a comforting hand on Peter's back, watching him with gentle concern - and a confusing mix of amusement and his own embarrassment.

Yeah, so, showing the mother of his partner something private like that is probably not ideal. From what little he knows of May, and her support of this relationship, he hopes she'll take it well, but...

There's definitely a certain level of propriety that has been breached. A tiny little pit in his stomach that makes him feel like he's in trouble, that there will he consequences for this. Fiyero isn't used to sharing things with parental figures. Certainly nothing like this. He can't help it, the worry that starts gnawing at him is instinctual, even if he tries to rationally argue against it in his head.

"Well.. At least she already knew?" Fiyero offers, but he doesn't sound entirely convincing. He can't make himself sound not worried. At best he could pretend to only be worried about Peter's reaction, not his own. (He shares more and more with Peter, but there are things that burrow deeper, that resists the light of day.)

Perhaps it's Peter's reaction that's activating his own worry. It makes it feel like a big deal, when Fiyero can't be truly sure that it isn't. And if it were him, it would be a tremendously big deal... Even if you forget the consequences. The idea of sharing something like that with his own parents would be... inconceivable.

The only reason that May has gotten some trust from him is because Fiyero did have some kindly caretakers every now and then. Someone he could share things with - ages ago now. But that's not quite enough to outweigh the bad experiences, when worries like this come creeping in unexpectedly.

All Fiyero can really do is sit there and stroke Peter's back, trying not to bite his lip or look too worried. They're supposed to be relaxing... A pleasant come down after all the intensity. Perhaps he shouldn't have said something. He maybe should have just let Peter discover it on his own later on. After all, it doesn't seem like Peter is able to do much about it.

Not ideal is an understatement. Peter wouldn't have sent that photo to anybody else. He wanted Fiyero to have it, and he should have waited until he wasn't operating on autopilot to send it. Fuck. Peter sighs in defeat, smacking a palm against his forehead a couple of times as he stares at the photo - well, at least they look happy. Outrageously happy, actually, to the point where that is almost more embarrassing than the fact that they're obviously naked. His hand winds into his own hair, stressed and pulling at it - though Fiyero's hand on his back does help, grounding and warm.

Overall, the stakes are low - it's not like she'll be angry with him. That's way worse, truthfully, and always because Peter genuinely deserves the ire. This is an inappropriate picture (and it could be so much worse in that department, too), and it's not at all on the same scale as coming home black and blue and refusing to tell her where he's been or who's hurting him. But the humiliation of it - because it will be, thoroughly, it's one of the ways they express their love - ugh. Maybe the only lucky part of this is that it's May doing the ribbing, because if Ben were still around to see it, Peter would really never hear the end of it.

Peter zones back in to the buzz of the phone, with May hearting the message. His face feels like it's on fire and he wants to throw the device, but the typing bubbles appear, then disappear, and he knows he needs to know what she's going to say before he does.

Bring those smiles to dinner, bubbeleh.

and then, a moment later:

and SHIRTS!

Then, Peter throws the phone - gently, for him anyway, letting it fall to the little bathroom rug - face aflame. He buries his face in his hands, dragging his palm over his countenance. "UGH!"

"She's going to be awful," Peter groans, finally turning back towards Fiyero, with the intention to lay back down. Nothing he can do about it now - truly nothing, aside from wallowing in anxious misery until the dinner. It's a state he's familiar with, so multitasking with a snuggle is easy enough. He tucks his arm back around Fiyero and shifts to lay against him again, stubbornly burying his face against Fiyero's neck. "Just, the most embarrassing woman you've ever met. I told her nothing was happening, which it wasn't, at the time, but of course she doesn't know that so she thinks I was lying, and she already knows she was right but I had to go and give her the ammunition of the century - "

Peter's anxious rambling trails off into indistinct grumbling that he muffles against Fiyero's skin, pressing kisses to his neck and hugging him a little tighter, like snuggling their problems away is an option. It's then that the tension reaches him - stressing himself out, eh, that's par for the course. But... it seems like Fiyero is holding more tension than before; that despite his attempts to look unbothered - he's not actually untroubled. Peter would know the difference - Fiyero's really genuinely chill, about a lot of things.

"Hey," Peter pillows his cheek on Fiyero's shoulder, tipping his head to press a gentle kiss to his skin. "It's my own fault. And you're right, she already knew. God, imagine that, out of the blue? I didn't have to go and give her incontrovertible proof but - well, it is what it is, I guess."

Fiyero reaches up to brush his hand through Peter's hair after Peter's been tugging at it - like the way they soothe each other after being tied up, giving each other gentle touches the replace the feeling of the aches. Fiyero's not feeling entirely at peace himself, but soothing Peter calms himself a bit too. The affection is comforting.

He leans in to look over his shoulder when the phone makes a noise, seeing the little heart there. He can almost feel the heat radiating from Peter's face, and he gives a little reassuring kiss on his shoulder - again in a way reassuring himself just as much, seeking that sweetness. Even if he's not necessarily aware that's what he's doing.

Fiyero does snort at the comment about shirts. He has to admit that's pretty funny. (He has no idea, no guesses as to what "bubbeleh" could possibly mean.) But she wants smiles for dinner, so... things are okay, right?

Peter seems to think different, but he turns to Fiyero for cuddles all the same, and Fiyero welcomes him with literal open arms, wrapping around him, tucking him in close against himself. He's using Peter a little bit like a stuffed toy in return - who needs rainbow coloured teddybear Fuzzy Wuzzy when he's got a lovely boyfriend to hug instead, right?

He's obviously perfectly alright with the plan of snuggling their problems away. One hand is tracing patterns with his fingertips up and down Peter's spine, and the other is weaving gently into his hair, cupping the back of his head.

He's not fully processing the details of what Peter is saying. His mind is supplying images that even he knows is probably far from the truth, but he still can't help that niggling worry, when Peter is so stressed about it. Usually he's managed to be a pretty good anchor for Peter, but turns out parental things might be a bit different - at least when he himself might be getting part of the reaction. It just kind of feels like they're in trouble, and that's not a great feeling. It's a feeling Fiyero doesn't feel very often anymore, or at least not in a way that affects him, because being in trouble with teachers and the like isn't as big of a deal - and usually they let a lot of things slide for him anyway.

He blinks down at Peter, realising he's finished talking and is actually looking up at Fiyero, who's been lost in thought, only hearing about half of it. "I mean, it would have been a pretty ridiculous way for her to find out, yeah," Fiyero agrees, a bit belatedly as he finally processes some of what Peter was saying. His voice is joking and playful, but it doesn't quite have that lightness to it.

Fiyero definitely seems out of it, now that Peter's setting aside his own anxiety spiral. The light touches helped him more than he can articulate, but somehow Fiyero is able to both calm Peter down and... wind up lost in thought himself. Peter blinks, studying his expression for a second, and his free hand unwinds from behind Fiyero's back to brush over his chest, letting warm water spill from his fingers down through Fiyero's chest hair. "Hey. Everything okay?"

Peter realizes, slowly, that maybe Fiyero is embarrassed. He doesn't seem to be shaking this off as easily as he does most things, and the real reason for it is a mystery to Peter - one of those things Fiyero has kept mostly under wraps. To be fair, it's not like there are a lot of adult figures they have to contend with, so it's not really come up. But maybe it bothers him, knowing May has seen a photo like that of the two of them in an intimate moment - just because it's not as intimate as it could have been doesn't mean it wasn't still private.

Peter offers an apologetic smile, cupping Fiyero's cheek with a warm, damp hand, thumb sweeping affectionately against his face. "I'm sorry, baby. It was an accident; I still had the text thread open and I thought I was forwarding the photo to you and - I just - I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable. I won't do it again, I - like having pictures; obviously, I mean, photographer and all, ha - but, uh, they should just be for us and - um - yeah. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."

His awkward ramble dies down into chagrined silence, but Peter soldiers on and leans forward to give Fiyero a gentle kiss, brown eyes searching blue for his reaction. It's the only reason Peter can think of for this silent shift; though if Fiyero isn't going to tell him one way or the other, Peter will probably just continue his nervous apologizing.

Fiyero feels that very uncomfortable and scary sensation as Peter studies him, like pinpricks on his back, giving him goosebumps. He's not used to being noticed in this way, to have someone see through his facade quite so easily. Of course, he already knew this. He's broken down in front of Peter more than once, he's bared himself in more ways than one. Peter's seen the most embarrassing parts of him, in record speed no less. And yet Peter has never been anything but kind and supporting and protective.

Well, maybe with one or two exceptions. That day in the library, after Fiyero had ditched him, but it had been probably pretty deserved. They were cold with each other then - it feels like maybe the only time they were actually cold with each other. And yet they had actually warmed up quickly again, even then. The other times, well, it was mostly Fiyero putting up walls and distance. He can acknowledge that now, more or less. He hasn't had much time to really think about the breakneck speed they've been going through all kinds of phases in this relationship - including before it became a relationship - but it does come to him in moments like this, little snippets. Honestly, he's probably lucky they've been spending so much time together, not giving him the chance to work himself into yet another spiral. If Peter wasn't here right now, snuggled up so close he can feel Peter's skin against so many parts of him, tangled together - Fiyero would probably be much deeper in his own head than he already is.

Perhaps it's the fact it's colliding with dormant 'angry disappointed parents' feelings, deep inside him, that makes him feel like he needs to hide, to put up a shield. It's not safe to feel emotions like this, to have someone see it. At best, it's going to go ignored. At worst, well. There's a voice in his head, quiet and deep at the back, that's calling him irrational and immature, undignified, a disgrace. Triggering irrational fears of what's going to happen next, fears he knows are irrational. It's not a conscious thought, it's not logical - it's a deeply ingrained instinct.

Or perhaps it's the fact that they haven't quite recovered from their activities. Fiyero in particular, was maybe a couple minutes into actually letting himself relax, to let go of those feelings of responsibility. He's still a bit raw as well, or highly strung, just not in the same way Peter is, or has been. But that doesn't necessarily mean he isn't vulnerable too, even if he isn't fully aware of it.

He smiles at Peter's question, and really it's only been a few seconds since Peter asked, but it feels like Fiyero was sitting there for an eternity while Peter was examining him. "Yeah, of course," he answers, nodding, voice casual.

It's not convincing. Maybe to random strangers it would be, but the facade hasn't worked or a while on Peter. Fiyero can feel it even as he says it, that Peter knows that everything isn't okay.

It's not terrible either, he's not on the verge of a panic attack here or anything. (Oz, he sure hopes he isn't! But no.) Sure, there's tension, an underlying current of anxiety, but it's not building. His heart isn't starting to hammer away or anything, pulse barely quickening a little, nothing remarkable. He gives Peter's waist a squeeze, both to reassure his boyfriend, and because he wants to hold him close.

Fiyero isn't really trying to lie to Peter, to hide it. He doesn't really want to do that, but to some extent that too is instinctual, to brush away the worries. Especially ones he doesn't want to confront for his own sake, where bringing them into the light would make them far sharper and more dangerous. If anything, he hopes Peter takes it for what it really is - something Fiyero doesn't want to talk about. Like them can both implicitly agree that sure, everything isn't okay, but that doesn't mean they need to hash it out here and now.

Peter, as is his way, immediately starts comforting Fiyero. Always: kind, supportive and protective. Fiyero's smile turns more sincere as he leans into Peter's hand, accepting and encouraging the affection. Whatever things he wants to hide, at least he doesn't want to run away from this.

But the comfort turns to an unnecessary amount of apologies - one was alright, Fiyero would forgive him immediately for the slip-up, of course he would. But Peter stumbles over his words trying to explain and promise and apologise, and Fiyero starts gently shaking his head, giving a gentle shushing noise at him to get him to stop his awkward ramble, which Peter answers with a soft kiss. Fiyero returns it, and the kiss is short and sweet, even as Peter's searching eyes makes his skin prickle.

"It's okay, it was an accident," Fiyero answers, and this time he does sound more convincing, because he really means that. He's not remotely upset with Peter in all this, for any reason. "It's not a big deal, it's not your fault." He gives a soft ironic huff, smiling crookedly at Peter. "If anything it's probably my fault, for messing with your brain that much," he teases, reaching up to brush a hand through Peter's hair, ruffling it rather than smoothing it down for once. It's a friendly, affectionate, playful tease, not really serious of course. But still, absolving Peter of any guilt in the matter, because Fiyero certainly doesn't give him any blame.

Peter can be oblivious - this is a demonstrable fact, like with MJ flirting with him. But he can also swing in the opposite direction, and notice fine details that escape others - especially when it's to do with something that has his full focus. Fiyero absolutely hits that mark; he has, since day one, but now that they're together? Now that Peter has permitted himself to care deeply, has let loose the grip he had on holding back? Peter tried so hard not to care, the morning after Fiyero left him hanging - and he still couldn't manage it. Now, it really is open season.

He briefly considers pressing, not letting Fiyero get away with the avoidance. The first rebuttal is just that, obviously forced nonchalance. Peter's eyes soften with knowing, lips quirking at the corners into a soft smile. He knows it's not okay, they both do. But, ultimately - the tension isn't insurmountable, and Peter stares for another heady beat before he nods slightly, indicating his assent to Fiyero's white lie.

Peter knows what it is to know another person; it's why he was so obstinate about not doing that again because he knows, too, how badly it hurts when it ends. But Fiyero doesn't, not in this way, and forcing his way through walls before Fiyero is ready to let him in isn't going to do either of them any favors. What matters is this: Fiyero's arm around his waist, the reciprocated kiss. Fiyero's hand in his hair, and the cute hushing noises he makes to get Peter to stop his word vomit. It might not be okay, and they might both know it - but sometimes even just a warm presence might help mend something that's broken.

"No, it's definitely my fault. Should've paid more attention..." Peter laughs softly, tipping his head back into Fiyero's hand before he settles against his shoulder again, situating himself for optimum weighted blanketness. He's quiet for a moment, just listening to Fiyero's heartbeat, the sound of them both breathing.

"...you can tell me anything, you know." Maybe it helps that Peter's not looking at him, not gauging his response - Peter just wants to let him know. To verbalize what Fiyero should already know, of course, but it never hurts to hear it again. Whether Fiyero takes advantage of that fact today, tomorrow, or maybe never - Peter wants him to know. He tilts his lips up towards Fiyero's neck, offering him another soft brush of his lips. Eyes closed, Peter's voice drops to a low murmur. "Anything, always."

Peter hums quietly, lapsing into comfortable silence. It's not expectant - if Fiyero doesn't want to say anything at all, Peter won't take offense. But maybe one day, he'll let Peter behind that next wall. That's what pillow talk is for, isn't it?

Fiyero feels a little bit like his he's buzzing on the inside. But perhaps it's a testament to how secure he really does feel in Peter's devotion, that he's settled just enough to not cause any alarm bells for Peter, supernatural or otherwise. Nor is he subconsciously trying to use his powers to get Peter to snuggle him closer - or to back away, for that matter. Peter seems to manage just the right amount that Fiyero wants in this moment, affectionate and close, but not overbearing in his attention.

For all Peter's intense attention and how he can't stop himself from caring, Fiyero does appreciate that Peter manages to stop himself from caring in an.. Well, invasive way. He lets Fiyero get away with it, and the way he smiles and softens hints at understanding. Not understanding like believing the cover story, but understanding why it's there in the first place.

Maybe at some point, Fiyero can get to a point of fuller honesty, where he can say that he's... a little unnerved, perhaps? One issue is he's not even sure how to define it simply, without going into it. Perhaps he can eventually manage to say that he's not totally okay, but that he'd rather not talk about it, and would rather just continue doing what they're doing right now.

It's probably a tall order. Fiyero's emotional intelligence might be better than a lot of people - at least the people he tends to surround himself with - but it does still have blind spots. Particularly when it comes to himself. It's difficult to see yourself without someone holding up a mirror.

Some of the tension does seep out of him as Peter accepts his white lie and simply starts quietly giving him affection and comfort, letting things stay light. The soft laugh releases some of that worry in Fiyero. Now Peter is no longer freaking out about May's reaction, it's a bit easier for Fiyero to not get too caught up in it either. He honestly has trouble actually imagining what her reaction would be. He doesn't know her well enough, and more importantly, he doesn't know many remotely like her to have a basis for comparison. But she raised Peter, and the two of them obviously love each other - something still so foreign to Fiyero - so it can't truly be too terrible.

Peter's reassuring weight and comfortable silence calms Fiyero too, as he leans his cheek against the top of Peter's head. Trying to let himself feel the calm, despite the burst of anxiety still circling around his system. It's not something that seeps out quite so quickly, but it gets easier to ignore it.

Fiyero's not quite expecting Peter to speak up with something so sincere. It feels completely ~~out of left field~~ bursting out of the bushes, like a complete change of topic out of nowhere. But it's not, really, given Fiyero was just hiding things and Peter was noticing it. This is just Peter acknowledging it, without actually addressing it directly.

It's warming and sweet, and so completely unfamiliar. Who has he ever had who he could tell anything? It feels like something people say but don't really mean. Like love. The performance of romance, not something people actually do because they want to, but because it's expected, it's a step in the dance, a part of courting someone. Or it feels like a trap, like the bait for catching them out in something.

Fiyero thinks he had a teacher like that once. Someone who'd said the exact same words: 'You can tell me anything.' Sure, Fiyero could tell him anything, but the unspoken 'no harm will come to you' that's implied in a statement like that didn't actually get followed through with. It hadn't really been anything serious. He'd admitted that he'd snuck out, and then he immediately got in trouble for it. The sort of thing that teaches you that just because you can tell someone something doesn't mean you should. Now, his parents hadn't even made that kind of promise in the first place. His father didn't remotely know how to connect like that, so he'd never think to say something like that. Perhaps his father felt that way but never showed it, Fiyero truly doesn't know. But there were enough times he got in trouble for something that keeping secrets just became the norm, the safest way to exist.

He sits there in silence for a while, resting against Peter, mulling this over in his mind. What would he even say? The idea of saying the stuff that's been floating through mind right now feels so outrageous that it doesn't even occur to him. He wouldn't know where to start. And he doesn't actually want to think about it. As much as he still want to connect with Peter, this doesn't really seem like a good time to start ripping off old bandages to examine the half forgotten scars underneath.

"Anything?" he asks softly, a rhetorical question more to show he's thinking, or to set up the continuation. Anything, sure.

"There's this weed that grows back home, fire nessel, which makes a really good soup but stings you if you touch it, so you have to wear gloves to collect it," Fiyero starts, his voice a low comfortable rumble, clearly idly starting to tell a story. "When I was little, I was learning about these things, how to survive in the wild, learning about plants, things like that. And they sent me out to collect some. But I was so short," he says, giving a soft chuckle as he speaks. "The plants were taller than me, so even with gloves, I'd end up accidentally stinging my face. Got this big rash on my face and went back empty handed. Teacher put some ointment on it, then sent me out again, told me I'd know better this time than to let that happen."

Fiyero's second chuckle is a bit stronger, recalling the funny memory. "Suppose he was right, because I really didn't want to try again. So I went out and found this similar plant, which looked almost the same but grew shorter so I could pluck it safely, you know?" he continues, his hand idly tracing patterns along Peter's back as he talks. "Got a whole bunch of it in my bag, brought it home, and then they taught me to make a soup of out it. Well... Since I made it, I suppose they figured I should get to eat it too, as reward for my hard work or something? I don't know. Turns out not only does it taste like spicy dirt water, it's also a little bit poisonous. I was throwing up for three days because I didn't want to admit I'd taken the wrong plant."

He's laughing at the memory - clearly being sick for three days doesn't really matter anymore now. It had been awful at the time, but he did learn the difference between those plants very well, so it was an inadvertent learning experience anyway. Even now, it only vaguely occurs to him that his teacher probably would have been able to tell it was the wrong plant in the first place, as well as what it might do to him if brewed into a soup, and had simply decided that was just punishment for him - or at least a not so inadvertent learning experience, even if Fiyero didn't consciously know what lesson they were trying to teach him. If it was 'don't lie to get out of work', that lesson definitely didn't stick. If anything 'lie better and know what you're lying about' was what he took away from it, because that's what actually kept him out of stinging his face or making himself sick in the future.

It would be an interesting study, the levels at which Peter's preternatural senses trigger. But there is a difference between distressed to the point of harm, and a lighter distress that Peter notices just because he's seeing. This is the latter, latent and nonthreatening. If it were the former - well, Peter was ready to bust down several bathroom doors to help. His response is not exactly a mystery.

Peter stays quiet and mostly still aside from a short nod when Fiyero asks Anything?, as if Peter would ever change his mind about something like that. He remains tucked up against Fiyero while his boyfriend contemplates what he wants to say, and tells a childhood anecdote - though it certainly strikes Peter as less of an anecdote and more of a serious case of negligence. How little is little? How old was Fiyero that he wasn't tall enough to handle the plants they were sending him after - and then letting him poison himself?

Even if it doesn't really occur to Fiyero that it was intentional on the teacher's part, it's immediately what Peter's thinking about. He's a teaching assistant; there's no way the teacher didn't notice. Peter would never let a student hurt themselves, can't even fathom the thought process that justifies such a thing - and his students are adults. Peter stays tucked against Fiyero's neck, glad to hide his own expression - he's not sure what it's doing right now, but he is sure it's not the amusement Fiyero was expecting. It doesn't escape Peter that this is one of the most personal stories Fiyero has ever divulged to him and that's just - he doesn't have the words for it. His parents, drugging him to keep him quiet; his teachers, being cruel. Who did he have, growing up? Just the talking horse?

Peter's quiet for a moment after Fiyero finishes, his grip a little snugger around Fiyero - he's trying pretty hard not to make it obvious, but he thinks they both need a hug after that. Peter gathers himself and clears his throat when he's relatively sure he's composed, enough to keep it light. Now's... not the time to point out how sad and angry that made him, on Fiyero's behalf. No, Fiyero let him step a foot inside the door, and it's not a moment that begs a reaction.

"I'm sorry, that sounds like it sucked." Well, at least that part is honest; getting stung and sick for days does suck and so does Fiyero's so-called teacher. Peter quirks an eyebrow, pulling his head back enough to look up at Fiyero with warmth. "Does the soup sting, too? The fire nessel soup. How did they even figure that out? Like, oh, this plant hurts me if I touch it - better put it in my throat."

Fiyero does notice Peter isn't laughing, but Fiyero simply chalks it up to Peter being a city boy and not having much context for all this. Which is perhaps for the best. He doesn't really examine his silence too deeply, assuming cluelessness rather than outright anger and upset. And Peter hugging him a bit tighter, well, that's fair enough given the story did involve Fiyero getting sick, and Peter is very protective.

Honestly, with how protective Peter is, Fiyero wouldn't have been that surprise if he did get a little sad at hearing about it anyway, despite the fact that to Fiyero it doesn't seem like much of a big deal. Peter would probably be doting on him with reckless abandon if Fiyero had thrown up now, much less when he was a child. That thing that doesn't connect for Fiyero would be that Peter is much more aware that this is a thing that was done to him, when he was a child and didn't know any better and didn't have much of an alternative.

So Fiyero smiles when Peter's first reaction is sympathy, and Fiyero gives a light hum of acknowledgement. Yeah, it did, but it's in the past and he's clearly fine. ~~Trust him, he's totally fine, these things didn't affect him at all.~~ Not much worth getting worked up over now.

Ironic, really, considering he just got a little bit upset over mostly nothing, with sending that message to May and fearing what the response might be. Some things just feel like fun stories, and he doesn't quite connect them to the latent fear or coping mechanisms they might have instilled in him. No one's making him harvest weed and poison himself now after all. No, he's just being kidnapped to be experimented on - and at least they can both obviously agree that's very bad. But that also feels very far away at the moment, safe in their little nest they've made together - whether that's actually true or not.

Fiyero laughs when Peter plays up the question of how that soup was discovered. It's a fair point, and Fiyero hadn't really considered it himself, never questioning it. "No, the soup is fine. I don't know, I think something about cooking it makes it not be dangerous anymore," he answers with a one-shouldered shrug, shifting lightly to wrap his leg behind Peter's legs, entangling them further. "I don't know how people discover these things. People needing food and they just try the stuff that's around them, I suppose?"

Well, the city boy part is true - he'd be useless in a forest survival scenario. Alright, maybe not entirely useless; he'd probably be able to start a fire, given the right motivation, and his superpowers would do a lot of the heavy lifting - but identifying edible plants is definitely beyond him. He wonders if Fiyero misses the natural landscape of Oz; the city is ruthlessly different, to the point that even the "natural" parts are mostly by design. Maybe one day, Peter could take him outside the city. Nowhere crazy - upstate, a short train ride. Provided it's safe enough for him to travel... and with what money and what time, but... it's a nice thought.

"So if you don't cook it well enough - stinging soup? Got anyone you wish a mouth rash on?" Peter manages to muster a smile at Fiyero's laugh, packing away the shock and anger. He can feel it in his palms, that prickling, needle sensation; the taste of iron at the back of his mouth. He swallows it down for Fiyero's sake, taking the opportunity instead to channel his feeling into hugging Fiyero a little bit tighter, to let Fiyero entangle them further so Peter can press his affection into Fiyero's skin - as if maybe doing that will help make up for all the time Fiyero went without. He won't go without; not on Peter's watch, not anymore.

"There's always a reason for the rule." Peter watches Fiyero's expression for a moment, but this time, it's not like he's looking for anything in particular; just enjoying Fiyero's presence, watching him like he's the most interesting thing in the world because he is. If Fiyero's not used to someone seeing him as he is, maybe he's just not used to anyone looking the way Peter is. "I've never been camping. I mean you - know that but. No cooking soup over a campfire for me. No like... wilderness skills."

"S'okay though. Cause I've got you, yeah?" Peter teases gently, kissing his way up to Fiyero's cheek; lips brushing his neck, his jaw. Warm fingers bump lightly through Fiyero's hair, coaxing him within kissing distance so Peter can plant a sweet kiss on his mouth. He smiles against Fiyero, letting their noses bump. "My nature man. You won't let the bears eat me..."

Peter would definitely have his uses in forest survival. The challenge would probably be to find enough food for him. But just imagining how fast they could build a shelter if they had Peter just breaking massive branches and carrying them like they're nothing. Fiyero could guide him in actually stacking them up in a useful way, but the sheer muscle wouldn't be a problem. And Fiyero can't imagine anything that could pose much of a real danger to Peter.

Fiyero does miss being around more nature. It hasn't been long enough that he's grown to truly ache for it, but it's definitely strange and foreign, to just have rock and metal everywhere. Just processed wood, barely anything living. It doesn't truly bother him, certainly not yet. Hanging out in the grass at Peter's school for example, that was nice.

He snickers as Peter's joke, giving him a squeeze and leaning his head down to peck him on the lips, almost a reward for the playfulness. Or really just because he wants to, because seeing Peter smile and joke makes him want to kiss him, simple as that.

Fiyero does seem a bit lighter now, the playfulness and distraction able to lift some of the burden. He doesn't shy away from the way Peter looks at him now either, just looking back. Peter really is so lovely, in so many ways...

He gives a soft uh-huh of acknowledgement at Peter not having wilderness skills, which he obviously knows. Can't even swim properly, which is still confusifying to Fiyero. He smiles warmly as Peter kisses his way up, leaning into it, angling his jaw to give him room, turning to return the kiss. Getting back to that hopelessly, sickeningly sweet and affectionate tone.

Mentioning bears eating him does earn Peter a brief look of 'what the fuck?' from Fiyero, then realisation hits a second later. Of course, bears, not Bears. Fiyero will always have that gut reaction of confusion at how different that is here.

"You think you need my help for that?" Fiyero teases right back. "If you punched a bear, you'd probably knock them out with one swing. I could make sure you don't accidentally poison yourself by eating the wrong plant, though. Well, probably. No guarantees for your nature."

Is there anything calorie dense in the forest for him to chow down on? Probably not to the level he'd need, but enough to keep him from totally starving to death, hopefully. They'd crush as a team on one of those survival shows, though. Peter's not used to not being the brains of any given operation, but he can certainly bring the brawn. He would prefer a tent though, honestly - something they can zip up, as if that will protect them from any wild animals that really want to get at them.

Fiyero will just have to make sure Peter doesn't drown either. They're working their way back to something comfortable, and Peter is glad he seems to have gotten away with keeping his reaction under wraps. He wouldn't want Fiyero to regret telling him something, and become more reluctant to share in the future. He wants to know him - Peter is not typically patient, but Fiyero is more than worth the wait.

The look Fiyero gives him does start Peter laughing, the sound bubbling out of him, shaking his whole body against Fiyero's with how earnest the humor is. Fiyero's expression, of course, reminds him belatedly that animals can talks, and it begs the mental image of a psycho cannibal bear (don't ask him why, but it makes him laugh harder). The tub ripples from Peter's shaking shoulders, and he grins as Fiyero teases him, tugging affectionately at Fiyero's hair. "Yes because I don't want to punch a bear. So we have to, you know, sneak past them or whatever it is people do to avoid them."

"That too. That's on your list of nature man duties." Peter snorts, eyes sparkling when his gaze cuts back up to Fiyero's. "Because you know me, sticking all kinds of unknown foliage in my mouth. Also on your list is to never shave this."

Peter lets his hand drop to Fiyero's chest hair, happily running his fingers through it. Yes, it is selling the sexy lumberjack thing, and if Peter can pay Fiyero a compliment, even in the middle of a bit, he's happy to do so.

See, the challenge would definitely come from Fiyero not knowing Peter's nature well enough to know exactly what to eat, while they wouldn't want to actually hunt and kill and eat any animals. Even if that's... a think you can do here, because they're supposedly not thinking creatures with societies of their own or-- No, it still feels too weird to Fiyero. It would feel like murder and he wouldn't be able to eat any of that. He's not keen on eating any meat here, but at least looking at the stuff they sell in places, there's a level of detachment from it being from a creature. Killing something to eat it? He can't even imagine. And he doubts Peter would be excited about it either, especially as he says he doesn't even want to punch a bear.

The Peter starts laughing seems to trigger something in Fiyero too, the baffled sort of persistent huffs and chuckles forcing their way out without even really knowing what's actually so funny. A feedback loop of giggles, not too intense at first, but also not going away.

"Just swing from the treetops, you dingus," Fiyero argues right back, voice light and shaky with growing laughter, silly and delightfully pointless. Snorting at the idea of Peter sticking random leaves in his mouth. Sure, why not?

The last point takes him by surprise though, and he blinks at Peter for a second before laughing again. "What? My chest hair is vital for your survival in the woods?" he answers, laughing more in earnest now, both of them splashing water, the sound echoing off the tiles. "Explain to me how. Morale?" he challenges happily, and following it up with playfully grabbing Peter's side, a tickling squeeze.

Certainly not excited about it - or hell, capable. Sure, he's strong, but could he even be quiet enough to hunt without tripping over himself and scaring away the game? Fast enough to - what, catch a squirrel? There's a video somewhere on the internet of Spiderman chasing a squirrel with a tourist's potato chip bag - the answer is self-evident. Still, if he were starving and out of options... it doesn't matter anyway, neither of them would know how to skin and cook the damn thing.

The laughter feels like a release, the rest of Peter's tension - unresolved emotion, worry, the intensity of what they shared earlier - melting away. That Fiyero is laughing with him, just being light and silly, certainly helps things. It wasn't okay - but they are, and that's good. "That's cheating, 'yero. It's like you don't even want to be my nature man!"

As if nature man is a thing, Peter. His grin widens at Fiyero's surprised amusement, spending a moment to grope shamelessly at Fiyero's pec as he shakes with laughter. "Absolutely essential. What's the point of surviving the woods in the first place if I don't have this luxurious pelt to sleep on?"

He yelps playfully and twists, pressing himself closer to Fiyero - which does nothing to actually help Peter escape from the wayward fingers prodding his side. "And morale, yessir. Gotta stay motivated to - chop firewood and - hike, I guess? What do people do in the woods, besides run from mountain lions?"

It's so painfully obvious he's never left the city, but based on Fiyero's teasing smile, Peter thinks he finds it endearing. Maybe. Probably. It's making him laugh, so he can't think it's that ridiculous. Peter lets his hand wander up to Fiyero's neck, brushing against the side of it in contemplation. "And it fits the whole sexy woodsman thing, which in this fantasy is indispensable. Come on, the hopelessly lost townie might just get on his knees to thank you when you lead him through the scary woods..."

If they really wanted to plan for wilderness survival and Fiyero being Peter's 'nature man', he should probably actually study some local flora. But Fiyero isn't genuinely that interested. He likes being outdoors, but he always generally preferred to pack a nice lunch to bring with. Much more tasty - he's not a chef, not really, even if he was taught some basics. Just because it was filling didn't mean it was good. So if they're going camping? They're packing endless snacks.

At the moment it's just a fun, silly fantasy anyway. It feels amazing, just giggling with each other, letting everything serious or intense melt away. Even with the good kind of intense, it feels nice to have it be replaced with this playful lightness. Fiyero's focused attention around his responsibility for Peter fades away too, to the point where they're now almost play-fighting in the bath.

Not that Fiyero is going to resist the groping. The groping is absolutely welcome, as is Peter's appreciation for his chest hair, even if he calls it a luxurious pelt - which, once again, is a word Fiyero has no idea what means. Why would he know what that means in a world where they don't hunt animals? However, he gets the idea well enough. Peter wants to sleep on Fiyero's chest, that's all he really needs to know.

Fiyero's not even going to argue, just giggling along with Peter, pulling him in close. What do people do in the woods? Honestly, he doesn't really know himself either. Hiking to somewhere nice to relax and eat their food, maybe going swimming, or climbing trees for the fun of it - whatever they'd like to do, basically. They'd have to bring some comfy blankets to have sex in their shelter, since based on their current habits, that would definitely be on the list.

This because completely evident as Peter goes that exact route, playing up a fantasy about sexy woodsman Fiyero being thanked with a blowjob, which makes Fiyero snicker happily. "Uh-huh? I bet," he answers cheekily, leaning in to nuzzle against Peter's cheek. "Or maybe I'll show him how to be sexy in the woods and just bend him over a log to get a proper thank you," he answers, his face once again having that smile that makes him look like he just wants to eat Peter right up, playfully predatory.

It'll be a real miracle if they manage to have sex yet again right now, and foiling their plans to try to not dirty the bath water for once. But that doesn't stop them from playing with the fantasy and being flirty and ridiculous together.

It’s so refreshing, being able to be this honest with someone - with Fiyero, especially. Just goofing around, having fun; it makes Peter feel young, which might be sad if he thinks about it too long considering he’s not that old in the first place. Then again, he kind of missed out on this type of tomfoolery in high school/college; maybe Fiyero is helping him make up for lost time. Bringing out this playful side, and making a safe space for it to exist. For him to exist. It’s something Peter needed, without ever realizing it.

Outdoor sex does sound interesting, even if it might have its own logistics issues. It’s just not something Peter gets to explore, in the city - the closest is probably Spiderman, and that’s a little death-defying and probably not the smartest idea. Peter laughs again, though this time there’s a pleased flush high in his cheeks when Fiyero turns that gaze of his upon him. Like he could devour him, given the opportunity. It makes Peter feel so thoroughly his, that look, and they both know how much Peter enjoys that.

“Anything for the man who saved me in the woods,” Peter teases, leaning up to kiss Fiyero again at the affectionate nuzzle. “I’m not arguing with you, handsome. When a gorgeous, sexy nature fella like yourself bends me over a log…”

Peter trails off into another bout of giggling laughter, cheeks pleasantly pink. He can’t help but imagine it, with that overactive imagination of his running overtime - Fiyero opening him up on thick digits, bending him over and taking him. It’s been a while, but with all the sex they’ve been having and the hints towards it, he can’t deny it’s on his mind.

Peter’s in no rush of course - moving at Fiyero’s pace is both necessary and good - but Fiyero’s definitely got him thinking. How could he not, with a premium slice of Ozian, princely beef wrapped around him?

But no, he’s not trying to start anything in the tub. Just having fun, swapping silly fantasy back and forth to make each other smile… even if the mental image of Fiyero bending him over a log is going right in the spankbank, for contemplation at a later date.

Peter settles with a happy sigh, lapsing once again into content silence as the humor dies down and leaves peace in its wake. Peter turns a little more, propping his head on Fiyero’s shoulder and capturing a hand, claiming it for himself. He sets about messing with Fiyero’s fingers, tracing over them, lacing them together with his own. Idle fidgeting, as Peter’s fingertips begin to trace up Fiyero’s arm a little, brushing over the warm skin of his wrist up towards his forearm. “We should probably get out and relax in bed…”

Not that Peter’s moving, clearly very comfortable right now. Still, the idea of cuddling all warm and snug in bed is very tempting…

Peter is his now. Fiyero has claimed him in just about every way that matters. If not out loud, then at least in his heart. Not in a way where Peter belongs to Fiyero - except for when they want to pretend - but that Peter belongs with Fiyero. And vice versa. He can tell by that warm feeling he gets inside as Peter kisses him, the sound of his laughter filling Fiyero with joy.

Even the naughty fantasy is just them having fun together, more silly than sexy - even if it's definitely also sexy, if they continue thinking about it for too long. Fiyero has very little hesitation left about going all the way, so to speak. The only real reason they haven't gotten there yet is simply because they've been busy doing so many other amazing things.

Right now though, he doesn't want or need anything except this closeness, this happiness they're sharing. The giggles slow and fade out, but the smile sticks on Fiyero's face for a long time, goofy and - for the moment - truly careless.

Peter suggests moving to the bed, and Fiyero sighs, conflicted between two equally wonderful things. "Yes, we probably should.." he agrees, his eyes closed at the pleasant fidgeting. He gives them both another moment of laziness, before he does actually start shifting, getting them moving - without even having sex in the bath this time.

Peter loves hearing Fiyero laugh. It's gotta be up there with his favorite sounds, right next to Fiyero's heartbeat. That they've been able to build this between them in the wake of so much pain and fear is honestly somewhat miraculous. It doesn't feel like a distraction - not in a bad way, at least - but a reason to keep fighting. It's terrifying and wonderful, all at the same time; Peter hasn't had someone to protect besides May in a long time, and there's a reason he no longer lives with her. It's safer that way, keeping her separate from his double life. With Fiyero, no such safety net exists - and he has dangers of his own that make being by Peter's side somehow the less dangerous option.

All of this, Peter contemplates as he plays with Fiyero's hand, folding and unfolding his fingers, little intimate touches, just because he can. He lifts Fiyero's hand to his lips, kissing each fingertip before he clasps Fiyero's hand in both of his, smiling softly when his boyfriend starts to move.

Jeez, his boyfriend. May was going to have a field day.

Peter helps leverage them both up with sticky feet and sure hands, dislodging the bath plug so the water can drain. He hits the shower lever with his elbow to turn on the water, reeling Fiyero in with a smile and a tug on his arm before they can get out of the tub, letting the water rinse them both off while he takes his sweet time with another kiss. One hand winds into Fiyero's hair, mussing it on one side while Peter thoroughly kisses him - it's got passion, but it's not fervid and messy; it's slow, sweet and unhurried.

When Peter's had his fill - which is impossible, honestly, but they're both rinsed by now and he'd like to continue this horizontally - he pulls back with a soft smile, letting Fiyero's lip drag against his teeth on a parting pass of his mouth. He hits the water off, reaching out to grab a towel, and tossing it over Fiyero's head first, just to be playful. There are still snacks in the sink; Peter grabs a banana to devour while they dry off - suddenly hungry, after standing. His body is going to play catch up with the calories they burned, and the couple of protein bars he ate before their rinse isn't quite going to cut it.

Peter dries off one-handed, busy powering through the banana with the other hand, and it probably makes for an amusing (and hopefully endearing) picture; hair fluffed up and slightly damp, running the towel over the rest of his body, polishing off the fruit and reaching for another protein bar afterwards. Maybe he should look into some higher-density snacks, if they're going to be this active. Avocados and peanut butter, or something? Hunger is a fairly constant companion for him, but this reminds him of the early days - when he first came home to May and Ben, and they both thought he was off somewhere getting high with his friends (What friends? With what weed?)

"I'm starving," Peter murmurs, mostly to himself, as if it's not obvious to Fiyero, wrapping the towel around his waist and wandering into the kitchen. He deposits the food detritus in the trash can absently (he inhaled the protein bar) and opens the cabinet to sift through their snacks. He winds up grabbing a random assortment of items - chips, another couple of protein bars, a cup of instant mac hidden at the back of the cabinet. Do they have leftover soup? He checks the fridge, pulling another selection from there - various leftovers, yogurt, a hard-boiled egg.

Peter munches his way through some of his pile as he's preparing the instant mac and heating up some of the leftovers, demolishing the extra snacks. Fiyero still has some of the fruit from the bathroom, but Peter makes him up a bowl of the leftover soup as well - if he won't eat it, there's a certain spider garbage disposal that will.

Inadvisably, Peter balances all of the remaining food in his arms and approaches the bed - but somehow keeps his balance and his grip, not spilling anything. He hands Fiyero his soup, arranges his own variety platter on his side, and shucks the towel before climbing into the bed without disturbing anything. He'd lean over for another kiss, but he's preoccupied shoveling yogurt into his face.

...Fiyero must really like him, if this isn't weirding him out.

"'orry, m'ungry," Peter manages, feeling a little bit better after putting away about half his bounty. At least he has the decency to look a little sheepish, realizing that he went into a one-track minded trance and zeroed in on the food.

Fiyero loves this. The casual affection they shower each other in, so unfamiliar to Fiyero. Physical affection in itself isn't new to him, but he didn't know it could feel like this. Every little gentle touch and brush of his lips feels special, precious.

Likewise with the way Peter pulls Fiyero in for a kiss, clearly having recovered his own initiative and volition by now, and Fiyero all too happily returns it. The kind of kiss that could very easily turn into something more, if they weren't already so perfectly satiated. It seems they're in no danger of getting bored of kissing each other.

He laughs as Peter tosses the towel at him, reaching out to squeeze a handful of Peter's ass as vengeance. Stupid and silly, like they've got no worries in the world.

Fiyero watches Peter snack as they both dry off, amused and somewhat impressed by his coordination. It's indeed an extremely endearing sight. Fiyero's half tempted to just feed Peter while he does things, but perhaps later. "I bet," Fiyero answers cheekily, gathering up the rest of the fruit and snacks (and Peter's phone) to bring with them.

Letting Peter sort out the food situation, Fiyero dries himself off fully and slips into bed, making himself comfortable. He's glad they don't have to change the sheets, but Fiyero tidies the pillows and covers a bit, arranging them so they can sit together, once it becomes apparent Peter is having a full meal, a haphazard collection of various food items.

As sleepy as Fiyero is, wanting to just cuddle up together, he can't say he minds. Kind of the opposite. He just loves watching Peter take care of himself. Peter's clearly neglected himself quite often, if not his physical needs then at least his emotional ones. Fiyero's helping to see to both, but it's heartening that Peter seeks out them out even without Fiyero's nudges. There's also the additional reassurance that Fiyero no longer needs to actively watch over Peter to make sure he's going to be okay. He can just sink into the pillows and sleepily watch.

It's probably a charming sight, the way Fiyero is halfway curled up, damp hair a mess, watching Peter through half-lidded eyes with a soft smile on his face. Yeah, he isn't weirded out. If anything, it's strange how not weirded out he is. He shifts as Peter comes over with food for him too, moving slightly sluggishly just because he doesn't feel like moving faster.

But he accepts the soup, taking it with both hands as they adjust next to each other. Once Peter is settled, Fiyero settles against him, stealing an arm to loop them together, leaning against him.

"It's okay," Fiyero answers, voice soft and warm, and so filled with love. "It's good."

And there's that word again, the one that keeps coming up whenever he's thinking of Peter... Love.

Fiyero seems to take easily to the way they are together, and it's a boon to know that the physical comes so easily to them. Maybe it's because they started off so physically intertwined - sharing a cramped apartment, holding onto each other for dear life as Fiyero made sure he didn't drown or fall off the horse, and Peter caught him, whisking him away from the men in the van. Maybe it's because Fiyero is just such a naturally physical person - not that it takes away from this. Them, together. But there's no awkwardness, really, and Fiyero doesn't seem to mind that Peter flocks to his touches like a moth to a flame, eagerly bestowing his own when no rebuttal is forthcoming.

Peter clears through another third of his food pile with gusto, careful not to jostle Fiyero's arm too much when it loops with his, lest he spill Fiyero's soup. He flushes pleasantly at the praise, shooting Fiyero an inquisitive look - but it's so obvious that Fiyero means it that Peter can't question it too seriously. How he got lucky enough to catch the attention of someone as dynamic and kind as Fiyero, who also doesn't mind how downright strange he can be (and let's be honest - Peter knows he's odd, and not all of it is the spiderbite), who treats his flaws as features - honestly, he's got no idea, but he's grateful for it, and he doesn't think a day will come where he's not in awe of the gift that is Fiyero's affections.

Peter finally slows down when he gets to his soup, collecting the rest of the food debris in the yogurt cup and setting it aside on the nightstand. He bumps his shoulder against Fiyero's where they're linked, folding his legs criss-cross to keep the soup balanced on one knee - which would be precarious, if he were anyone else. Clearly he's not out of it enough that he's terribly impaired anymore; not after relaxing in the tub, and devouring half their fridge.

"You really think so, huh?" It's more of a rhetorical question, as Peter tilts his head to lean it lightly against Fiyero's shoulder. "That it's - that I'm - "

Peter lets the sentence trail off, hand curled near Fiyero's bicep, letting his thumbnail drag gently back and forth along Fiyero's skin, tracing a nonsensical line. Touching, just... because. "What would it take to freak you out? You're so - chill with everything. Me, I mean, and my - stuff."

Maybe it's because Fiyero comes from a place with talking animals, Peter. A place where magic is legend, but not myth. Fair enough. He tips his head to let his lips graze Fiyero's shoulder, warm brown cutting over to blue. "Which I very much appreciate, by the way."

He does, so much so sometimes it feels like he's fit to burst ~~so much so he doesn't even seem to realize he's being conditioned into taking better care of himself.~~ Fiyero is one of the most amazing people Peter's ever had the good fortune to meet, let alone get close to, like this. If he says that, is it too soon? Would it freak him out? So Peter doesn't, not quite letting himself think the words - because if he thinks them, not saying them might feel like a lie, and they both know how bad he is at lying. Instead, Peter lets his hand curl around Fiyero's bicep, squeezing lightly; saying all the things he can't with touch, instead.

The touches are, in a way, the easiest part of this. Fiyero is a tactile person. Peter's obviously seen firsthand how little encouragement Fiyero needs to touch someone, particularly on the dance floor. It's a way of him building connections, even if the connections are fleeting. With Peter, it's constant. Reinforced consistently.

There's only been a few times he's shied away from it, and it's when he was upset. When he's sad, touches can easily feel foreign and scary, or simply too much. But it can also be desperately needed then.

When he's happy, like now, it's difficult to see any reason to be apart. How much of that is his tactility, or his own crush, or how Peter seems to enjoy it, well, it's impossible to tell. Doesn't really matter as long as they're both enjoying it. Right now, their only barrier seems to be practical concerns, like not spilling their food everywhere.

Fiyero works through the soup slowly, not remotely near Peter's level in terms of hunger, but still enough to enjoy the food at a comfortable pace. Which means they'll probably finish around the same time, all in all. It's a comfortable silence, tired and content and their mouths busy eating. He smiles when Peter bumps against him, catching his attention. His soup balancing is impressive, not particularly surprising at this point.

He looks over once Peter speaks up, not answering when he trails off, as he's not really sure what Peter is asking. Instead he waits until Peter can formulate more of a question, to figure out what he's on about. Then when it becomes clear what he's actually referring to, 'him and his stuff', Fiyero gives a soft amused huff, smiling. The smile only grows when Peter's lips brush against his shoulder.

"I don't know," Fiyero answers honestly, considering it. "Maybe I'm all full up on being freaked out by things here?" He gives a slight shrug. "It's weird, but that's not a bad thing. It's just you. And some of it's quite good."

With that he also connects the dots with Peter reacting when he said it was good just a minute ago, with the food. "I wasn't saying it's a good thing you're hungry," Fiyero adds, smiling. "That's just a thing. I'm saying it's a good thing you're eating when you're hungry."

Maybe it's a good thing their skills lie in different areas. That the physical comes more easily to Fiyero in some respects, and the emotional to Peter, in others - not always, but sometimes experience helps them out. As the upsetting moments come, they'll handle them together. They've already made great strides - from Fiyero running away, to crying openly in Peter's arms. Maybe it won't always be like that, but the best Peter can hope for is that Fiyero knows he's always there.

Peter snorts and tilts his head, as if to say, fair enough. Fiyero does, indeed, have his plate full enough with worries, and much freakier problems than Peter's food intake. Weird but just you, is definitely better than absolute freak, and Peter's smile remains on his lips, shy and warm.

"No, I know." Peter ducks his head, letting his cheek rest on Fiyero's shoulder. He likes being good, an obvious fact - though this is, of course, less about the sexual connotations of such a thing and more about making Fiyero happy. Still, Peter sighs softly, grabbing his bowl with one hand to draw it closer and stir his soup thoughtfully. "I should probably figure out some higher calorie snacks. If we're... going to be this... active. Can't afford to eat this much, usually."

Unless Jonah keeps up the fair rates for his photos, but Peter wouldn't ask Fiyero to do that on purpose. The ethics are more questionable than he'd like to examine, and more importantly, it made Fiyero feel absolutely terrible. No, Jonah would probably go back to paying a pittance, and Peter would be stringing together whatever cash he could find to make ends meet. At least they have Fiyero mostly taken care of, now - clothes, a phone, the more expensive basics. Supporting two people in a city as expensive as New York is no easy task.

Even so, Peter would happily down discount jars of peanut butter until he was entirely sick of it if it meant continuing as they are. He'd much rather that than not getting to enjoy his boyfriend's company because he can't afford to refuel properly.

Of course, there are some areas of the emotional where Fiyero is stronger. Connecting with strangers, occasions where charisma is called for. It's dealing with troublesome internal challenges that Fiyero finds difficult. Just like with the physical, socially Peter might not be as strong with that, but he's perfect if you require strength and agility. If they're limiting themselves just to their relationship though? Peter still has Fiyero beat when it comes to sexual experience. And Fiyero's not hopeless when it comes to the emotional during sex. Overall they balance each other out and match up quite well.

Really, Fiyero does know logically that Peter would be there for him. But the times where he needs Peter isn't necessarily when he's thinking logically. Not only does he have to realise Peter will help - he also has to realise he needs it in the first place. Neither is quite as easy as you'd think, with his experiences.

Fiyero would also be there for Peter, in every way. Building him up, supporting him, caring for him, entertaining him. He doesn't always know when Peter needs it either, of course, but he'd rather try too much than too little.

It's Fiyero's turn to snort when Peter talks about being active. It's true though, he's downing a lot of food very quickly. There must be better food that is higher in energy.

And he would rather not be using his powers like that. It wasn't too bad, and maybe if he found a way to moderate it, so Peter was paid fairly, but not necessarily excessively... He's not sure if he'd be comfortable, but... Well, they'll just have to see.

"Perhaps I could get some sort of job too," Fiyero muses, something they've talked a little about before. "It's not something I'm in favour of, as a general rule," he says playfully, obviously mostly joking. "But if it's while you're already busy, and it lets us be more active, I could be persuaded."

Overall, they're still learning each other. It's hard to believe, when it feels like they've been in such a pressure cooker together, but this is new. And whatever experience they may or may not have collectively, it's always a process when a relationship is new. They'll learn, over time - when one of them needs something from the other, even if they can't quite bring themselves to say it. It comes with the level of comfort they're building with one another, and Peter wants to know Fiyero that well, eventually. He wants to know the things that make him smile - but he wants to know the tough parts, too. The silly childhood stories that are more sad than silly, apparently - but Peter isn't looking to shy away from any of it.

"A job to fund your sex habit," Peter teases, laughing warmly and tipping his head to brush an affectionate kiss against Fiyero's shoulder before he turns his attention to his soup. Smart, to save it for last so it wouldn't be boiling as he scarfed it. "If you want to, I mean, it couldn't hurt. Just... maybe something on campus?"

Until they make it safer for Fiyero to walk around without having to worry about being grabbed and tossed into a van off the street (Peter has no idea how he's going to achieve that, but he knows that he will, they don't have a choice) - well, it would stress him out a lot less if Fiyero were on or nearby the ESU campus.

First things first, however; Peter pauses with a spoonful of soup in his mouth, eyes twinkling curiously as he glances over at Fiyero. "'at 'ould 'ou even 'oo?"

He swallows the bite, licking the vestiges of soup from his lips. "Have you ever had a job?"

Fiyero doesn't get any 'funding a habit' jokes, but even without that it's an accurate description. Especially if you count the sex toys. He gives Peter a cheerful nudge, careful not to spill either of their soups.

He hums thoughtfully about the thought of having it be on campus, mouth full of soup. It's a fair point. That or something he could do anywhere. Not that he's sure what exactly that would be. Like a writer or something - except obviously not that.

Fiyero smiles with amusement at Peter talking around his food. He's still understandable, and again, he has a very important point.

"Besides my lifelong full-time occupation as Prince?" he asks, corners of his mouth quirking. "Not so much, no. Still in education, anyway. Don't know what I'd do... Think there's need for an archery or fencing coach?"

A lot of his education is sort of useless here. What does the politics and history of Oz matter? Some things are transferable, like diplomacy and public speaking. But he's also sort of hampered by simply not knowing what jobs exist.

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