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

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."

It's the sleepy giggles that have finally come for them. After all the intensity of everything, good and bad, it feels nice to just be pleasantly, lazily, stupidly silly. There's something very easy about it, no performance or even trying particularly hard to be funny. Just that light loopiness after what has been a pretty intense day - even though thankfully this time it's been because of adventurous sex, not anything bad.

He gives a soft 'huh' at Peter admitting he doesn't know. Though the explanation he gets is really all he needs - the meaning of the word, not all the specifics of it. Only Peter would want to know the specifics - though thankfully he doesn't want to know more than he wants to snuggle, for which Fiyero is great.

"Yeah.." he answers with a content sigh, smiling at the way Peter squeezes him. His hand moves back up to cup the back of Peter's head, turning his face towards Peter's temple, nuzzling into his hair, his lips brushing against his air. Tucking Peter into the safety of the crook of his neck, holding him close, both protectively and possessively. Even if it's quietly, sleepily so. "Me too..."

Peter's getting very comfortable in the soft hollow of Fiyero's neck, which has warmed with the combined heat of their skin, and Peter's breath. It definitely speaks volumes to how comfortable he is that he doesn't try to reach for his phone to figure out the answer. He's a bit incorrigible that way - endlessly curious, for better or for worse - but very little seems important enough to interrupt the drowsiness that's starting to creep over them both.

"I like you," Peter murmurs, hands flattening against Fiyero's back, holding him in return. Maybe they won't stay like that as they sleep - or maybe they will, waking up wrapped around each other and far too hot. Peter doesn't mind either way, as long as he gets to keep Fiyero right there with him.

It seems the day's activity has finally caught up with him, though, because Peter doesn't make it more than a few moments of soft, sedate breathing before he's out like a light. Running around the city and having heaps of sex really takes it out of a guy. It's a dreamless sleep, the kind he's been getting more and more of, with Fiyero around. Jeez, is this what it feels like to be normal and well-adjusted? You just sleep, with no nightmares? Wild.

Something that has really taken Fiyero by surprise in all this, in how they interact, is that Peter treats him like Fiyero is more important than anything else. Obviously when protecting him, but also just in little moments of not wanting to let go of him, wanting to do anything to make him happy. Even the moments where Peter was being the responsible one, resisting Fiyero's advances because they really did need to go out. If Fiyero had pressed it? He's pretty sure he could talk Peter into doing just about anything for him, if it was important enough to Fiyero.

It makes him feel valued in a way he's not sure he's ever felt. And Peter's simple words, such an obvious statement - but it makes quiet yet strong emotion swell up inside Fiyero. He feels so cherished, and he hopes Peter feels it in return.

He almost jokes in return, something to lighten the strength of the emotion - I should hope so, given that Peter is snuggled up with him and all, would be strange if he didn't like him. But it's so sweet and sincere, and they're both so sleepy and intimate and vulnerable-but-safe, he can't be anything but sincere in return.

"I like you too," he whispers, closing his eyes. Peter doesn't answer, except in the way he holds him tight, like he never wants to let go. It's a few moments later that Fiyero realises Peter has probably fallen asleep.

It's like a final weight off his shoulders, letting him truly relax. Peter is resting, sleeping soundly, safe and happy. Everything is good. Not out there, in the world - but in here, there is nothing bad. Fiyero doesn't take long to fall asleep after that either, his mind going pleasantly blank except for the warmth and weight and smell of Peter, and then he's out as well.

Peter wishes it weren't such a painful truth, but it's one he knows all too well - the only thing that's irreplaceable in this world are other people. The people you care about, for however long you're privileged enough to care about them, they are the most important thing. Fiyero has handily cemented himself as someone of immense importance in Peter's life, and there's really no turning that one around at this point. Once Peter's in... he's in. All in.

His dreams are formless, calm and shapeless, slipping through his mind without leaving anything terrible behind. Peter smiles against Fiyero's neck, mumbling something quiet against his skin - impossible to decipher, but it's obvious enough that he's content. No doubt, they'll each have more nightmares in each other's presence - but for today, at least, Peter's rest is peaceful.

It's a very good nap, especially after such a busy day. It is, unfortunately, just a nap - the alarm trills too soon, phone rattling on the nightstand. Peter mumbles and squeezes Fiyero petulantly, reluctant to get up - but he fishes an arm out from the covers to grab at the phone, awareness prickling uncomfortably. He silences it and slumps back into the warm sheets, legs tangled with Fiyero's. "Nnnnm..."

Sighing softly, Peter props his cheek on Fiyero's shoulder, peeking an eye open at him to gauge whether or not the alarm roused him. He leans closer to kiss lightly along Fiyero's jaw, something gentle and easy to coax him back to consciousness. He gave them enough lead-in time to not have to jump immediately out of bed, but they should still get moving - no matter how cozy they are, right now. "...'yero..."

Fiyero's dreams aren't quite so pleasant... Though without necessarily being a proper nightmare. Those quiet anxiety dreams, where you feel like there's something you should be doing, or there's some unknown danger lurking behind the corner, something that isn't quite right. He wakes up at some point, only to find Peter clamped happily against his side, which calms him down a little again. Enough to doze off again, at the very least.

The alarm does wake him, though the only immediately outward proof of this is the frown that drags at his eyebrows, and the slight jump in heartrate at the sudden sound. He doesn't want to move. He certainly doesn't want to acknowledge the outside world, what lies beyond their doorstep.

Peter's gentle kisses does soften the wakeup, the frown slowly replaced by a slight smile, his eyes still closed. "Mmmn, don'think we've got time f' sex, Peteeer..." he says playfully as Peter's kisses find his ear, his voice mumbly and raspy with sleep.

Peter huffs a laugh, quiet and fond and just for Fiyero, muffled against his skin. His voice is a soft murmur as he brushes his lips against Fiyero's ear, stretching closer. "Mm, no sex, baby. Just a nice wake up call..."

He can hardly resist when Fiyero's being cute, relaxed and warm as he slowly wakes. Peter's lips find their way back to Fiyero's, kissing him sweetly, coaxing him towards consciousness. He lets the kiss break with a soft sigh, pillowing his cheek on Fiyero's shoulder so he can watch him, gaze tracing over Fiyero's light smile; waiting for the moment Fiyero decides to fully rouse and open those beautiful blue eyes of is. Jeez, Peter really is a goner.

"We'll be back soon and then you can sleep, okay?" Peter lifts a hand to gently brush Fiyero's bangs back, fingers light against his scalp. "Shouldn't take too long...Fiyerooo..."

Fiyero shifts, squirming gently like a cuddling cat, feeling their skin moving against each other, shivering a little at the lips against his ear.

He kisses back automatically, maybe having to be coaxed into waking, but he needs no coaxing to kiss. He's sure his breath is terrible, he can taste it. Peter however seems to have perfectly fresh breath - well, at least by comparison - though maybe it's a spider healing thing. It doesn't seem to put him off kissing Fiyero, even if he stops frankly much too quickly.

He is much more awake now, he's just resisting it, pretending not to me. Enjoying the way Peter is touching him, cuddling him. It's the most gentle attempt to wake him up he's ever had. Second to waking up to a blowjob, but this is wonderful in a different way.

"Alright, fiiine," he answers, eyes still closed, his voice full of groggy, light-hearted exasperation. "Calm down, baby," he says, and reaches up to push at Peter's shoulder, rolling him onto his back as he follows after, suddenly sleepily clambering down along the bed. "I'll go down on you, but it better be quick."

There is the hints of a sly grin around his mouth, showing he's entirely aware that's not what Peter meant. He's only joking, trying to make Peter laugh by being silly. We'll he's almost totally joking. If it ends up turning Peter on, he will happily follow through. But the main goal is just to hear more of that wonderful laugh.

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