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 ]

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.

Peter is used to doing whatever he needs to do to make ends meet, but factoring another person into the calculations is a different exercise. It makes him a little more nervous, for starters - if he fucks up, he can just forgo a few meals and rely on a visit from Aunt May (she always seems to know when he's struggling, and calls him to meet her for lunch or to come home for dinner, under the guise of needing help at the house), or the generosity of people while he's out as Spiderman (there were a few hot dog vendors around that he'd saved from rogue accidents who were always willing to toss him a hot dog, whenever he was swinging in the street). And yeah, sure, he definitely shouldn't be skipping meals - but with Fiyero, now he really can't.

They're doing okay, though. Peter hasn't had a struggle month in a while; he's alright enough to have moved out from May's, though his savings are still practically nonexistent, after all the help he was giving May with keeping up on the mortgage payments - a hole they've gotten out of, at least. Ben always said Parkers died with their boots on, so.

"I guess you wouldn't need a summer job. Between school breaks, I mean." Peter snorts softly to himself, ducking his head to keep plowing through his bowl of soup. The edge of hunger is waning, at least, after hoovering up all the snacks he carried over. It's such a different way of living, not having to worry about money, he almost can't fully conceive of it. Even as a kid, it was always a consideration, always something he was aware of, even if he had no power over it.

It reminds him of Harry, and the wayward thought is enough to pull the smile from Peter's face. No matter how happy they make each other, there are wounds that still ache - that will always ache, Peter thinks, blinking to try and shake the thought off.

"We should check if you need a license for that. The city can have strange rules about freelancing sometimes." Peter's dabbled in all kinds of odd jobs, and the city could get strange about it. But if Fiyero's paid in cash... He sets aside his empty bowl, turning his attention fully to Fiyero as he tucks into his side, brown eyes wide. "But we can put up tutoring posters. I don't know if there's a class on campus for something like that where they'd take a non-student teaching assistant."

Out somewhere in the city, certainly, but if they're trying to keep it local...

"We can look at the job postings when we go next week. They usually have a board up at the Library." Peter slings an arm around Fiyero's middle, propping his cheek up on his shoulder. "Maybe... something with people? You're good at talking to people."

Fiyero meanwhile has never had to worry about money. Not in this way. He does know some things about economics, but that's not exactly his strong suit. He understands the importance of managing money. He's just been taught to do it on a national level rather than a personal one, and he never quite had to put it in practice himself anyway. So this is new but he's trying to adjust. He also simply doesn't know what is considered expensive or not.

He does give Peter a confused look at the concept of a summer job and school breaks, but his mouth is full of food and then Peter moves on. Something unspoken slides across Peter's face, and it's enough to distract Fiyero too, without really commenting on it.

He gives a hum of acknowledgement at Peter's planning, drinking down the rest of his soup as well, so he can set it aside too and wrap his arms properly around Peter, snuggling up.

"I'd like to work with people," Fiyero agrees, nodding, giving a soft yawn. Food has made him sleepy. "You guys don't have school in summer?"

Maybe Fiyero will help balance Peter out - he tends to go for the cheapest option, because he can get away with it. Some things... maybe he probably shouldn't. Likewise, Peter can steer Fiyero away from anything outrageously expensive... probably. Once Fiyero has his own cash coming in, there may be a couple things Peter won't be able to save him from.

"No, we don't. It's like - a three month break. About...90 days or so, when the weather gets hot." Peter stifles a yawn against Fiyero's shoulder when the prince's yawn spurs his own, before grinning at the similitude. Yes, after quite a bit of carnal indulgence, a warm bath, and plenty of food - a nap is sounding great. They've got an alarm several hours for now, and time to rest.

Peter wriggles to get them more horizontal, encouraging Fiyero to get comfortable next to him. Now this is pillow talk. He presses a few appreciative kisses along Fiyero's skin, until Peter can prop his chin up to look at him again, soft and happy, banishing Harry's shadow. Not now, not while things are good. If Fiyero falls asleep first, well, then maybe. Peter can't hide forever.

"I usually spend it taking pictures, going on patrol, taking odd jobs. I had a gig as a pizza delivery guy but uh - didn't last too long." Quite vitriolically fired, as Peter recalls. "This summer, I think Dr. Octavius is going to have a research project he can hire me on. Depends on whether the funding goes through, he's still waiting to hear back... but I'm hopeful."

"I think you'd be good with a summer camp," Peter suggests, thumb brushing idly against Fiyero's side, tracing over his ribs. "I know Empire runs several. Day camps for kids, and they come to learn something. You might not even need to know the subject material, if you were an aide... more in charge of the kids, you know?"

Though how Fiyero would pass a background check with no records... well. It's possible he's charming enough to get the job regardless.

At least if Fiyero gets his own income and he contributes to apartment and food budget, he can choose how to spend his own money. Whether that's recklessly spendy or not. Chances are it will be some luxury items for himself, treats for them both, and a few gifts for Peter here and there, definitely. Someone has to spoil him a bit.

Fiyero's absolutely baffled at the concept of 90 whole days of no school. He's still processing it as Peter starts nudging him into lying down, which he does without question. It's becoming more and more automatic to simply adjust to each other's spaces, tangle up together and get comfortable. No more insecurity about how tight to hold or how close to be or certain parts being pressed against.

He hums in acknowledgement about the research project, which doesn't mean much to him, but it's fun dink stuff apparently, so he hopes Peter will get it too.

The bit about summer camp earns him a curious look, as Fiyero doesn't really know what that is, though thankfully Peter explains it seconds later. At this point, Fiyero could probably get any job if he was being persuasive enough. It's mostly a matter of whether he could do it.

"I don't really know much about kids. And isn't summer a long time away?" he asks, frowning thoughtfully. Not really immediately plans. "...And do you really get ninety whole days??" he adds, obviously still stuck on that.

Peter smiles, raising both eyebrows at Fiyero’s gamut of looks. He’s kind of ridiculously cute when he’s thinking, actually, brow pulled low, mouth turned down at the corners. Peter’s fingers sweep against his side, back and forth, just enjoying the closeness. For someone accustomed to being lonely, it still feels like a miracle just to get to snuggle.

“What is there to know? They’re people. Smaller people with lots of unfortunate hormone surges, but people. You’re good with people.” Fiyero was good with the kid they rescued the other night. He’s kind. And most of his class would probably have a crush on him, too. It is true that summer is several months off, but Peter means it more as ideating than actual suggestions - at least, until they check the campus job board, or the papers, to expand their search radius. Fiyero needs to know what kinds of things are available to him in the first place, anyway.

“Yes, ninety whole days.” Peter scoots up a little to look at him, free hand rising to trace over Fiyero’s brow, smoothing it out with light fingertips. “We have a smaller break in the winter, too. It’s shorter, but like… forty days or so? Do you not have a break in between your school terms?”

Fiyero thinking doesn't happen very often, so it must be the novelty of the expression that's the appeal. Or a sort of 'oh look at him, he's thinking, how sweet' usually reserved for babies.

He finds it difficult to be too perturbed by anything when he's so comfortable though, Peter providing a steady reassurance and affection. For how he's been going without something like this, it feels astonishing how much he thinks it would hurt if it was suddenly taken away. But for now, that sweetness is keeping anything bad rather effectively at bay.

"I suppose," he answers, not having a particular objection to that. Of course, he can't really flirt with children (and would not want to, obviously) so that's one tool out of his toolset. Well, maybe teenage girls might swoon over him, but that's not quite the same. He's not sure he'd know how to manage groups being rowdy. Although... He can be good at making groups follow him too. It would depend on what he was trying to get them to do in the first place. Yet then there's the idea of being responsible for a lot of little people who can't take care of themselves very well, and that might be the worrying part.

That thoughtful frown turns into a smile as Peter starts caressing his face, his brow smoothing as Peter traces it. Fiyero's just comfortably embracing Peter, relaxing against him, but he's not objecting to Peter's more active approach.

"Depends on the school. I suppose most people did have some breaks during winter," Fiyero answers. "I just had tutors then, or doing other training and such."

It's why he took his breaks where he could find them. Even if that was a class where he could get away with it, rather than any official sort of break. His time here feels like the longest time he's gone without some sort of schooling. Perhaps that's why he resists doing research voluntarily. He helped Peter because he was helping him, and there was a real practical purpose to it. But he'll admit: reading notes? He really would rather not.

Peter just likes the closeness, fingers smoothing along the curve of Fiyero's jaw when the smile stretches over his expression; somehow, Peter's actually less sleepy than he was a moment ago. Probably that faux-surge of energy before you crash, post-bath. He's so used to being wired - because he runs himself ragged and that's the only option, when you're strung out on four hours of sleep with an ungodly level of physical activity and not as much food as someone like him needs - that actually taking the time to relax has him buzzing, a bit.

"We have a spring break too, but that one is just a week. Seven days." Peter tilts his head so his cheek can squish against his arm, warm brown eyes focused on Fiyero. "People like to go somewhere warm, usually."

Not Peter, of course. With what money and what friends? He just spent more time Spidermanning, which was a good thing, too, because plenty of villains decided that was their week to try their luck against the arachnid city protector. Always when he has an exam, or a little time off, like they had a spidey sense for it.

"Well that sucks," Peter props his chin on his forearm, tilting his head at Fiyero thoughtfully. Actually, yeah, Fiyero's approach to taking such blatant advantage of break time makes a lot more sense in that context. He might play the lackadaisical prince - but as Uncle Ben always liked to say, the more someone tells you something about themselves, they more they're trying to convince you it's true. Laziness as an act of rebellion, when Fiyero doesn't have much of a choice otherwise - Peter feels like he's starting to understand. "I'm sorry. You never went on vacation with friends? Too busy?"

Edited (my liege.....) 2026-01-20 19:00 (UTC)

Despite them both yawning, there's that excited feeling where you just want to keep talking, so you loop back around into not feeling that tired. It will probably hit them again soon enough, especially with just how comfortable he feels.

All of these breaks they seem to get. Granted, Fiyero did have a week or two here or there. He wasn't worked every minute or every day. It just felt like it sometimes, where so much of his life was decided for him.

He does smile at Peter's simple commiseration. Just an acknowledgement that it's bad - Fiyero finds that alone is more gratifying than he would expect, and he doesn't need much more. Just someone to see and agree when something that feels bad is in fact bad.

The question makes him pause for a moment. "Hang on, what actually is a vacation?" he asks, frowning. "Someone assumed that's why I was here so I've just been using it as an excuse."

He assumed it was related to vacating. Just, being away from home? Which is obviously true. Except the context here makes it sound like a more specifically fun thing, not just some sort of journey? He's suddenly unsure if he's been using it wrong and saying something really dumb to people because he was simply copying people's assumptions to build his story.

This is why Peter can't do casual sex - he loves this part. Just wanting to be around your person, a best friend who you also have bedroom fun with - but then moments like this that feel more like a sleepover, where you can be the person you were when you were eight, making shapes with a flashlight under the covers.

...yeah, okay, maybe he's a cheeseball, but Fiyero likes him, so. Check and mate.

"You - " Peter pauses, a bit surprised by the gap in Fiyero's knowledge - but maybe there's another Ozian word for it, like Fiyero's differing months? He leans in to pepper Fiyero's cheek with fond kisses before he settles again, pressing his cheek against Fiyero's shoulder. "A vacation is like - a period of leisure. Recreation, sightseeing. People like to travel places they've never been before - or maybe places they've been a bunch of times, like an annual family vacation to a beach house. Wherever they'll have fun."

"People come to New York for vacations all the time, from all over the world. The tourists, that's what they're called." His hand brushes soothingly against Fiyero's side, not wanting him to feel judged. "New York has a lot of history in it, so people come for that - or the Broadway shows, the entertainment. It's a good excuse, 'yero, especially with your accent."

Peter is obviously surprised at Fiyero's lack of knowledge, but... There is some small tension in him that releases somewhat when Peter starts covering his face in kisses before explaining without any trace of judgement or disappointment. And sure, maybe the kisses could be slightly condescending in a way, not intentionally, but the way it seems to be a preemptive reassurance at perhaps a stupid question. But they're kisses, so how could he possibly mind?

It's why Fiyero asks these questions to begin with, why he feels comfortable enough. Sure, he does have a very valid reason for not knowing these things, but even then it can be unpleasant when he feels so totally clueless. But Peter softens those moments, and his eagerness to explain things implicitly encourages Fiyero to ask. Sometimes he feels like he asks just to Peter can have the fun of rambling.

The explanation does make it make more sense, and Fiyero doesn't think he's used it in a way that might be incorrect or sound ridiculous. If he has, it was probably to someone he's never going to meet again anyway. And now he understands what tourists are too, although he had mostly guessed from its likeness to tours.

He can't help but smile at the care in how Peter touches him, the way he tells him it's a good excuse. Even if he's already let Peter know that's his excuse - he thinks he also told May that, actually? So surely he would have pointed it out if it didn't make any sense.

"We'd call it a retreat, probably," Fiyero answers, figuring he might as well share. Peter always loves hearing about Oz. "Or a holiday, but that is only if it's in relation to one of the holidays. Then it's more about how you choose to spend those holy days, rather than necessarily a trip."

Peter certainly doesn't mean anything by it. Even if he wanders off into a rambling explanation, it's usually because he's excited, because Fiyero has made him comfortable enough to just be himself. The number of times he cuts himself off has gotten smaller and smaller the longer they've spent together - and the number of questions Fiyero feels comfortable asking has only grown.

"Like the sex priests, fucking away their holiday." Peter teases lightly, though his eyes are bright with curiosity, perking up at the tidbit about Oz. Anything Fiyero deems important enough to share - about himself, his life, his home - has no trouble holding Peter's interest. "Do you have a favorite retreat you've been on? Something you like to do?"

He wants to add with friends, because it seems impossible that Fiyero hasn't been on a vacation with someone before - but then, Fiyero never seems to mention anyone. Feldspur, perhaps, but it kind of seemed like the horse went everywhere Fiyero did, in service to his prince. In a lot of ways, Fiyero's life sounds just as lonely as Peter's... which again, he already knew in concept, but the evidence sharpens the knowledge.

...and now he's thinking about places he could take Fiyero. Winter break isn't that far away - there's a small break for Thanksgiving in a little under two months, and winter break isn't far off after that. Maybe aiming for Spring break would be better... but even just taking a few days to spend together doing something they want to do, even if they don't go anywhere...

Fiyero isn't always interested in what Peter is rambling about - or even if he's interested, he might not be able to pay attention. But he loves the sound of his voice, especially when he gets excited, and the little gesticulations and expressive eyebrows. So unless he's very tired or in a terrible mood, he doesn't see himself cutting off some if Peter's rambling. That's his adorable dink rambling.

Fiyero lets out a bark of laughter at Peter's unexpected joke, grinning happily at the silliness. "Yes, just like that."

He pauses at the question, taking a moment to consider, his hand idly stroking at the back of Peter's shoulder where he's got his arms wrapped around him.

"I don't know, not one particular place, not a favourite," he answers. It's difficult to have favourites when many of these places are so fleeting. Places he'd like to go when in one school, replaced by new places at the next. "Just getting away from school grounds with people. Finding a ballroom, or a place to go swimming, or-- I don't know, something fun to break the monotony."

Peter grins right back at him, pleased by Fiyero's reaction. He can't say he's ever had a holiday quite like that - not that Fiyero has, ether, but. If Peter's amusing them both by conjuring images of sex beneath the mistletoe, so be it. He's not even sure if mistletoe is just a Christmas thing or a Yule thing, but he's pretty sure it's a Yule thing...

"A ballroom?" Peter's concept of a ballroom is probably far grander than what Fiyero means, if his level of comfort in the club was any indication. He could see Fiyero fitting in well, though; he could go just about anywhere. "What's your favorite dance? If you have one."

He doubts they're doing the waltz for fun, but Peter's having a hard time conjuring anything other than the scene from Dirty Dancing when Baby goes to to clubhouse for the first time. Peter sighs softly, almost wistful, fingertips dragging slowly along Fiyero's side. "Not many places to swim around here. S'why I never really learned. The beach is alright sometimes, but the waves can be rough. Not good for beginners. And you never want to swim after it rains, best to wait a few days."

There's no mistletoe. (What is a mistel and why does it have toes?) Lurlinmas is definitely not quite the same as the holidays they have here, so they probably have very different images of what it would be like. But that doesn't make it less comical.

"If May brings out some music tomorrow, maybe I'll teach you some," Fiyero says, leaning in to rub his nose against Peter's, a flirtatious smile on his face. It's obvious Peter can dance, some dances at least, so he should be able to learn some as well. And this time Fiyero's feet aren't sore.

Fiyero listens as Peter talks about swimming, though his look slowly turns into amused incredulity. "Peter," he says, staring at his boyfriend with a mock serious look. He reaches up to put a hand on Peter's cheek, getting his focus, like he's about to impart some vital piece of information. Speaking slowly and clearly. "There is.. a pool. Right by your class at school. You literally lent me your pass to get in there." Remember? When Fiyero really needed a shower? But of course Peter has never taken advantage of the gym there. He's never needed to.

"I'm pretty sure you'd have to wrestle her to stop her," Peter laughs warmly, beaming at the cute nose rub. It is outrageously cute, actually, bringing a pleasant dusting of pink to his complexion. May will most certainly take advantage of Fiyero's love of dance, and Peter won't have any room to complain, however good-naturedly. Not when it makes Fiyero smile like that - and ideally, doesn't end in a panic attack this time.

Peter blinks at the tone of voice, slight furrow appearing in his brow as he tries to discern what would have provoked such a thing. He snorts when the words register, leaning his cheek into Fiyero's palm, eyebrows rising, teasing smile stretching across his lips. "Okay, well, in my defense, it's not like I had access to that for like... most of my life."

The past five years, though... Yes, the rumors are true - he did forget about that pool, and having access to it. Can you blame him? When has he ever had occasion?

"And," Peter draws out the word, tilting his chin at Fiyero. " - it's for like, athletes. It's an Olympic-sized pool, I don't know that anyone's casually just... in there. If they are, they aren't there to almost-drown the way I would."

"Oh, I could defintely take your aunt," Fiyero quips about the wrestling. In reality, for one thing he wouldn't want to stop her from playing music. For another, he'd be far too nervous about actually wrestling May and so she could probably get the upper hand somehow.

Fiyero's playful smile returns the moment his jokingly serious reminder about the pool lands, relaxing back into the bed. He strokes at Peter's cheek with his thumb as Peter leans into, before moving it up to come through his hair once, then settling comfortably back around his shoulders.

"I'm sure with your big brain and local knowledge, you can locate and 'almost drowning' friendly pool we can make use of," he answers back. If they have one at his school, there must be more of them around. "What's an Olympic? A lake or something?"

"That's what you think." It kind of feels impossible to stop laughing in Fiyero's presence, so Peter doesn't even try, chuckling as they settle back down on the bed. He tucks his cheek against Fiyero's shoulder, letting his lips brush lightly against Fiyero's jaw as Fiyero's fingers drag gently over his scalp and settle, warm and easy against his back.

"You're not going to like it," Peter snickers quietly to himself; the New York public pools aren't something you describe, really, they're something you experience once, and then never again. Honestly, the school pool isn't the worst idea in the world - he had 24/7 access. Maybe they could find time when it would just be the two of them...

"It's uh... you know, I'm not sure." Peter hums thoughtfully, closing his eyes and just enjoying the warm scent of Fiyero's skin. Maybe that's weird, but he thinks they're both drowsy and happy enough that Fiyero won't mind. "We have this... competition, called the Olympics, comes around every four years. Every country sends their best athletes to compete for best in the world, in all kinds of different sports. So... an Olympic-sized pool is the standard size for competition, I guess. Not sure what exactly that is, though..."

"I'd Google it, but - " Peter squeezes Fiyero a little tighter for emphasis, grinning into his neck. " - I'm pretty comfortable."

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