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

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fiyero tigelaar : winkieprince

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

[ aka wicked ii: lost in new york ]

It helps Fiyero relax too. There's no way to hold onto that tension, they just gently sink into each other for a moment. Like this, it feels like they're shutting the world out even when they're not. On the street earlier, everything was muted, the cars, the people, the noise, it all got quieter for a moment.

Fiyero isn't quite as amazed at the kiss. What amazes him is that bright, happy smile on Peter's face. Fiyero's expression is soft when they part, but it soon widens into a grin to match Peter's. However powerless he might feel like in this world, he has the power to make Peter happy, and that is worth so much.

He snickers a little at the fond accusation, sticking the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he grins.

"Mm, yes, and I don't want to make us slam onto a wall," he jokes with a laugh. "Come on." He presses a quick kiss against Peter's cheek, before he steps back and tugs at Peter's hand to lead them outside. At least Peter's doesn't have to fight to get Fiyero out the door every time. He doesn't want to make leaving actually impossible.

"Definitely not." Peter makes a face, obviously replaying a memory in his mind. Has he been slammed into a wall before? Has he swung into a wall before? The answer is yes to both, which probably isn't that surprising, but it doesn't make it hurt any less when it happens. He's certainly not going to let that happen when he's carrying precious cargo, though.

Peter allows Fiyero to lead them out the door, locking it with a quick twist of his wrist and pulling it closed behind them. The building is quiet this time of night - well, to anyone else's ears. He can hear the low drone of a television behind 3A's door, something cooking behind 3B, and what could either be an argument or sex behind 1A, when they get to the end of the hall. Peter curls their fingers together as they get into the elevator, letting his side bump up against Fiyero's. Soaking up the warmth while he can, because it will surely be cold once he gets out into the elements and takes off his hoodie.

He was right - the roof is freezing, temperature having dropped significantly since the sun fled the sky, and the black of night took over. There's no one up here - which is good, Peter's met the occasional smoker - and he bounces on the balls of his feet to start psyching himself up before he pulls his clothes off to stuff them in Fiyero's backpack.

"Daredevil might be a little intimidating, but he's a softie, really." Peter warns, reaching up to pull his hoodie off. The final barrier between him and the cold night air (because the Spidersuit really doesn't count, not when it's skin tight with no insulation to speak of), and Peter makes a face, stripping the sweatpants off too. Kind of like jumping into a pool - you just have to do it. His hair sticks up at an odd angle from the static, but it will cease to matter as soon as he pulls the mask over his face. "And Hawkeye is nice, you'll like her."

Fiyero gives Peter a look that's about half and half amused and concerned. That sounds like it would be very unpleasant. But Peter is here and joking about it, so clearly he made it through without too much lingering hurt. There are many things that have lingering hurt of a less physical kind, of course, but this doesn't seem to be one of them.

The concern return when they get on the roof and Peter strips. That face is evidence enough that Peter's cold and doesn't care for it very much. Fiyero merely hums in acknowledgement at Peter talking about Daredevil and Hawkeye, which sure are some names. Not worse than Spiderman, he supposes.

"You need to make a suit that has a proper warm lining or something," he points out, stepping closer as Peter gets out his mask. He reaches up to gently brush his hair back, making it lie a little smoother so it will be less crazy when he takes the mask off later. And maybe he just wants to touch him a little, before he finishes suiting up.

“I’ve tried,” Peter sighs, equally wistful and long-suffering, as he bundles up the clothes to stuff them in Fiyero’s backpack. Sure hands work the zipper, practiced and easy. He moves back to wait in front of Fiyero, gloved hands brushing against Fiyero’s forearms. He smiles softly at Fiyero’s gentle concern, the way warm hands brush through his hair, fingers dragging over his scalp. “If it’s too thick, I can’t stick.”

Peter raises a hand and flexes it, wiggling his fingers with a lopsided smile. He’s tested out lots of options and materials, and fallen more times than he can count. Peter pulls out the mask, holding it up - offering it to Fiyero, if he wants to do the honors. He leans into Fiyero’s touch a little, gaze softening even more. How much Fiyero cares, it’s never in vain. Peter appreciates it, and isn’t sure he’ll ever be used to it. No one ever notices if Spiderman is cold. Fiyero cares, and honestly, that’s warming on it’s own. “I’ll be okay. I’ll warm up, as soon as we start swinging.”

"You don't need every part of you to be able to stick, do you?" Fiyero answers, smiling right back at the way Peter touches him. There is concern and wistful suffering, but the care and affection still brings smiles to their faces. "Like, are you sticky here?" he asks, slightly teasing as he gently pokes Peter in the ribs. Surely he could get some padding in some areas, right?

He smiles when Peter gives him the mask, accepting it, turning it over in his hands to get it the right way - and just to feel it, even through his own gloves. He leans in and gives Peter a soft peck on the lips, before reaching up to gently putting the mask on him. Surely much more awkward and less smooth than if Peter had just done it himself, but there is something sweet to the ritual of it. Like a symbol of Fiyero being entrusted with this secret part of Peter.

Once the mask is on, Fiyero's fingers tugging a little at the edges of it, his hands slide up to cup Peter's cheeks again. It's strange, looking at him like this. He can't see Peter's expression, not even his eyes - but he feels like he can imagine it pretty accurately anyway. He smiles and leans in once again, pressing a kiss to his lips through the mask as well. He may not be able to make out like this - but even so. "At least you can have my heat."

“Most parts,” Peter laughs, torso flexing when Fiyero lets the pads of his fingers tickle at Peter’s ribs. Everything about the way they are together is nice - from the romantic to the easily platonic, like this. The way Fiyero claims Peter’s personal space as his own, unafraid to simply reach for him. Peter doesn’t even get a zing in his sense anymore about Fiyero, not for something like this - the swoop in his stomach is something entirely different.

He ducks his head as Fiyero slips the mask over it, helping by turning his neck as his boyfriend tugs it into place, allowing the tried and true folds of the mask fit to his face perfectly. Maybe it’s silly, but it definitely feels like it means something, having Fiyero pull the mask on. Maybe it’s because he’s never known Peter not as Spiderman, not really, and Fiyero accepts it in a way Peter doesn’t think anybody else ever has. Maybe in ways no one else ever will.

The careful way Fiyero holds him brings a smile to his face, one that grows ever fonder when he feels Fiyero’s lips against his own, muted but warm, even through the fabric. Sure, it can’t be seen, physically - but it can probably be felt, the force of his ecstatic happiness.

“That’s all I need,” Peter promises, reaching out to fuss in return - to tug at Fiyero’s jacket, making sure it’s well zipped, neck tucked and bundled. Satisfied, Peter turns to offer Fiyero his back, stooping just a little to make it easier for him to climb on. “Now boarding, one Spidey Express for our VIP, frequent flyer customer - ”

It's a little weirder, being so comfortably platonic and affectionate with Peter when he's all.. Spiderman. At least when the mask is on. But he's gotten used to it, more or less. He'll just have to be careful that he's not too used to it in front of others, as that will be somewhat awkward - and potentially quite bad for Peter's secret.

But it's not the abilities or the purpose around being Spiderman that is strange to Fiyero. The abilities have been slowly revealed over time, introduced in a way that didn't feel overwhelming. And the purpose, well, that was there from the start. The very first thing Peter did was try to save Fiyero, even if it was just from being lost and annoying a driver at first. It's the secrecy that's strange to Fiyero. Having his lovely boyfriend hidden inside a costume.

So of course he accepts it. Even if it's scary, even if he worries for Peter and whether he's taking care of himself. But at least as long as Fiyero is here, Peter has another reason to take care of himself and stay safe.

Fiyero smiles - at least Peter can still see his smile - as he fusses and turns around to let him climb onto his back. "VIP?" he asks curiously, as he wraps his arms and legs around Peter's shoulders and hips. Wrapping one arm over his shoulder and the other under his arm, looping across his chest like before, so Peter can easily swing and Fiyero's grip is secure. He steels himself for Peter jumping off the building - though the more he does it, the less scary is it, getting more and more used to it.

“A VIP is a very,” Peter punctuates the words with a squeeze of Fiyero’s leg as he lifts him up onto his back, a tilt of his head to brush it against Fiyero’s cheek as he settles into place. “important—”

He takes off like a bullet, three quick steps from their position to the edge of the roof, clearing it in a single, springy bound, even bearing Fiyero. “PERSON - WOOHOO!”

Peter lets out a whoop as they wheel into the open air, gravity taking over immediately, pulling them down. One hand remains supportive under Fiyero’s leg, trusting his hold, while the other sends out a web, catching them so the swoop becomes a controlled pendulum, arcing them through the air. The wind is cold, sharp and clarifying, but Fiyero is a welcome heat against his back, and Peter can’t help but find himself smiling beneath the mask.

It feels… joyful, to swing with him.

Hell’s Kitchen isn’t terribly far, certainly not by swinging. Peter twists, switching hands on Fiyero’s thighs to swap the wrist he’s webbing with and curve them smoothly around a corner, absorbing a glancing impact on the balls of his feet to propel them along the edge of a building. They don’t pass any crime on the way, though whether it’s fairly quiet because of the time of night, or because Daredevil’s already made his rounds is impossible to say.

They land almost lightly on the roof, behind an industrial air conditioning unit. Peter can hear two heartbeats on the other side, but he landed here to give them both a moment for Fiyero to dismount gracefully.

“You didn’t say you were bringing a friend, Spidey!” Kate’s voice calls from the other side, Daredevil’s low, gravelly rumble following - you do understand this is a covert meeting, don’t you?

Fiyero laughs at Peter takes off, that rush of adrenaline that comes from jumping off something very, very fall, no matter how safe you feel. His grip tightens instinctively around Peter, though he can feel his hand on him - if Fiyero's grip slipped for any reason, Peter would probably catch him by the ankle, at minimum. He trusts him completely, so there's no true fear with this.

He only barely registers the answer to his question, in the excitement - which is actually quite sweet, calling Fiyero a Very Important Person. Even if he thinks that's a specific term, where Peter was making an announcement in the style of something. Peter makes it known that Fiyero is a Very Important Person in all kinds of other ways.

The wind stings, and Fiyero is very glad he's wrapped up as well as he is, with Peter for buffer - even if he'd rather have it the other way around, really, given Fiyero is dressed a lot better. Fiyero partially buries his face a little in the crook of Peter's neck, protecting his face from the sting of the wind - his nose and ears particularly, though there's only so much he can hide, while still peeking up see where they're going. He kind of wishes he had big glasses like Peter too, having to squint against the wind.

But it doesn't take too long, and it's fun watching everything whizz by, especially when he can tell Peter is enjoying it. Still, there's a trepidation that builds when he realises they're getting close, Peter slowing down to land.

The landing is soft, and Fiyero unwraps himself, his hands gliding affectionately across Peter's shoulders as he lets him go.

He wants to take a minute to steel himself, or ask Peter something, or even just give him a hug and make sure he isn't cold -- but then a woman's voice calls out, and he doesn't have time to think about any of that. That must be Hawkeye then. He does take a soft step away from Peter, as if not wanting to stand too close.

The woman clearly doesn't hear if Fiyero hears him, but there's another voice too, or at least Fiyero thinks so. A quiet rumble Fiyero can't make out, almost as if it's not meant for him, but he's sure Peter can hear it.

"Didn't warn them, huh?" he asks Peter, soft humour in his voice. He doesn't worry about them hearing him though. They probably can. They sure noticed their arrival.

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