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 ]

Kate doesn't seem to have an embarrassed bone in her body, which can be fun, sometimes, when Peter isn't the one she's egging on. He knows it's her way of dealing with the nerves - using humor to combat the stress (pot, meet kettle), and of the people gathered, Peter is clearly the most visibly worked up, so he's getting the brunt of her joking. He also knows she'll do good work, gathering intel on the streets - hence why he's putting up with it, because begging her to be serious for two seconds is going to undercut the whole thing.

...he doesn't like having to put up with the flirting, though.

Is she flirting? Probably not seriously. Very little is serious about Kate, Peter knows. She's made plenty of comments about his spandex-clad backside, wolf-whistling as he swings by. It's not serious, she's never been serious. The lingering hand on Fiyero's arm probably isn't serious.

He's been silent for too long, hasn't he? Peter starts a little, realizing his mistake because both Kate and Daredevil are staring at him.

"Uh, sorry - what?" Peter says sheepishly, forcing his eyes away from Kate's hand. It doesn't even look like Fiyero's noticed, or if he has, it's not making him uncomfortable. Is it? Peter lets his gaze dart to Fiyero's face, then away again, as if Kate or DD might catch him looking.

"I asked for the doctor's name," Daredevil repeats kindly, though the thoughtful tilt of his jaw is far too knowledgeable for Peter's liking. So Peter repeats it, offering up little details he'd glossed over before, as Kate and Daredevil ask their questions, trying to match it up with the networks they know about.

And her hand is still on Fiyero's arm.

Peter doesn't think of himself as the particularly... jealous type. Then again, when has he ever had a reason to be jealous? He was pining, a lovesick teenager, and then they were together and neither of them ever had eyes for anybody else and then - more yearning, more grief, the happiest moment of his life when they finally found their way back to each other and then - well. There was never anyone he was competing with for Gwen's affections.

With Fiyero, obviously, it's different. He draws attention everywhere they go, simply by being handsome - add on top of it his undeniable magnetism, and surely sooner or later, a challenger will approach. Maybe Peter's not as recovered from their sexathon as he thought, when the overwhelming urge to pull Fiyero away from Kate's side and next to his continues to grow.

Call it preternatural self control, but Peter manages. Even if one hand is fisted at his side, he manages; he tries not to look, and tries even harder not to let out of a relieved sigh when she finally drops it, pulling out her phone to shoot off a text to someone.

Daredevil's still got that stupid head tilt, though.

"I assume he's staying with you, somewhere safe" Daredevil inclines his head towards Fiyero, and Peter's reaction probably could have been smoother, but -

"What? Why would you - I mean yes but like - what?"

Even without being able to see Daredevil's eyebrows, the amused twitch in his jaw is enough for Peter to know he's being laughed at. "You smell the same."

"We what - "

And Kate's laughing openly, clearly enjoying herself as Peter flails. "Yes he used my shower I guess - "

Fiyero is getting a little uncomfortable with the way her hand lingers there too, but he's VERY used to tackling that. Touching doesn't generally bother him a lot, but it's the everything of the situation. The fact they're talking about very invasive topics, and yeah, maybe he's still just a little bit raw from earlier as well. He has a good poker face though. A slight tension in the jaw, that's really it.

Though the fact that Peter's focus apparently completely drifted to the point where he didn't even hear Daredevil's question, that's a little bit curious. He was looking at Fiyero, right? It's hard to tell, with those big eyes, where they're actually pointing.

He's not aware if he nudges Kate to let go of him. Whether it's his own discomfort or that he's starting to pick up on some tension from Peter, he's not really processing it consciously. It probably wasn't a big nudge, just... a hint, perhaps. Subtle, matching the way he's keeping a lid on his emotions in general, carefully maintaining his composure.

It's when Daredevil picks up on the fact they're living together that his composure threatens to crack though. His heartbeat increasing just a bit and -- hopefully Daredevil can't hear that, but who knows?

And then he says they smell the same, and Kate laughs, and Peter is openly flustered, and the hair at the back of Fiyero's neck stands on end, goosebumps covering his arms.

Fiyero can stand being laughed at, generally. He doesn't have insecurity about that. But there's a flash in his mind, a very vulnerable Peter upset at not understanding why Fiyero laughed. Fiyero can't see his expression, but he can see his body language, can hear his voice, and Peter is uncomfortable, he's flustered, and he's being laughed at. And Fiyero is stressed, with two unfamiliar super-powered people they're asking the help of.

Can he really be blamed for the way he wants Kate to stop laughing?

Her laugh cuts off abruptly, and Daredevil's mouth turns into a tight line. And now there's a different kind of goosebumps, a sense of dread washing down his spine. Fiyero doesn't move, his expression barely changes at all, but there's only so much he can school his face, only so much he's able to keep the tension out of his body, his heart quickening.

Then again, this is yet another piece of evidence that Fiyero's power seems to trigger the strongest when he's protecting Peter. Whether it's from immediate danger, or from being exploited by his boss, or simply by being laughed at by his friends and/or coworkers, well. It seems much more likely to trigger at that than at his own discomfort.

Thank god one of them does - but that's why Peter wears the mask! People can't see when you're scared or panicked or whatever when you're wearing a mask. Fiyero's still engaged, though - Peter's relieved to see it, whenever he allows himself a little glance in his boyfriend's direction. Fiyero's not disassociating or getting lost inside his own head, at least as far as Peter can tell, and that has to be an improvement.

Peter's so engrossed in bantering with DD and Kate - What does Spidey smell like, ooh, come on D, share with the class - It's ocean rain or whatever, I don't know, stop sniffing me! - that he almost misses it. Well, it would be impossible to miss, in the ensuing aftermath - the way Kate's laughter cuts off unnaturally, how Daredevil's jaw tightens so hard Peter swears he can hear the man's molars grinding. But it's the shift in Fiyero's heartbeat that touches him first, a skipped beat, quickening thump thump tha-thump thump - and Peter can't control his own reaction when his head tilts up to immediately seeks out Fiyero.

Fiyero who looks... normal. But there's the evidence, and the weird, buzzing feeling sliding down Peter's spine. Something just happened, that's for sure. Fiyero's powers, or simply his distress? Perhaps both?

"-Fiyero?" Peter manages not to let 'yero slip, taking a step forward. He doesn't dare reach out to touch him right now, as if a friendly shoulder squeeze might out them both - but it does put him between Fiyero and the others, partially shielding him from view. His voice softens, quieter - they're obviously not far away enough for true privacy, but it's clear this is just for Fiyero, and whether or not it's manners or something else, neither Kate nor Daredevil seem inclined to interrupt this time. "Hey. Was that too much? You okay?"

Fiyero would prefer being lost in his own head at the moment. It's not that he doesn't like them, Kate especially seems fun, but the context prevents it from being just a fun hangout where they can simply quip and tease and nothing else. If it weren't for the secret identity thing, Fiyero might even have encouraged it, as long as Peter didn't seem genuinely bothered.

He can't quite keep that neutral expression as Peter approaches, gentle concern in his voice and his demeanour, shielding Fiyero and checking on him gently. Just a little crack that shows a hint at his distress at what just happened.

Fiyero nods, his jaw clenching a little. "Sorry," he breathes, and he's not sure if he's apologising for his powers or his lack of composure. He knows he doesn't have to apologise for the latter, and probably not the former either, not to Peter. "It's fine," he adds, a little ladder. "I'm just... going to sit down while you guys talk."

He nods nervously, stepping back even if he'd rather step forward, into Peter's arms. He feels queasy again, and very nervous about what's going to happen next. Whether they noticed or realised what happened. Fiyero just takes a few steps off to the side, sitting down on the ground. Still within perfect view of all of them, not about to get snatched up. Even if he can't remove himself fully, at least he can give just a little distance.

Daredevil and Hawkeye might not be interrupting, but they sure are paying attention. They seem aware that something just happened, even if they don't know what.

It's subtle, but it's there - the flash in Fiyero's eyes, the wild and wheeling distress he's so very good at taming beneath the surface. Peter's heart aches that Fiyero is upset - but it aches even more to know that it's been a necessary evil for him, learning to hide it like this. At least he permits Peter to see it, now, even if Peter can't reach out and help him - not with an audience, anyway.

"It's okay." Peter murmurs, low enough that he thinks only Daredevil will really be able to hear him. The man is discreet, at least, in ways Kate doesn't seem to be capable of. He fist loosens, then clenches again, helpless to the inaction. He can't comfort Fiyero. Not yet, anyway, and Fiyero is the smarter of the two of them, taking the step back. "You're okay."

Still, Peter can't completely help himself - he lets his hand brush Fiyero's elbow as he backs away, in what can probably be played off as a friendly gesture. Just in passing, something casual. He can get away with casual, right?

...probably not, but he doesn't think DD will say anything.

"Is he okay? Low blood sugar?" It's a weak joke, but Kate finally manages to find her voice, brow furrowed in confusion. Peter doesn't really feel inclined to explain - and honestly, doesn't know what he'd say if he did. What did Fiyero want to happen that affected them so suddenly? Had he just wanted them all to stop? Did he want Peter's attention - is that why he was unaffected? He doesn't know without asking, and the last thing Peter wants to do is draw more attention to Fiyero right now than he already has.

Instead, he turns to face them both, back to Fiyero - not so subtly obstructing him from view. DD has the decency to refocus on Peter, and pretend like he's not watching Fiyero, though Peter has no doubt that he is - Kate is a little more obvious, squinting over his shoulder before she snaps her attention to Peter when he starts talking. "He's okay. It's - been a lot. He doesn't like talking about it."

"Uh huh." Kate raises an eyebrow, and Peter experiences his first real jolt of irritation. He can take a joke, a classic vigilante jape exchange - but knowing when to read the room is a skill. He takes a step forward, crossing his arms, and cocks his head to the side. It's about as much sass as you can get, without the use of a facial expression - Peter's well-practiced, by now.

"Would you?"

That does manage to shut her up, with another contemplative look towards Fiyero before she averts her eyes. Peter feels instantly bad - but not bad enough to take it back, especially since it means they both leave Fiyero in peace.

Daredevil asks a few more questions, and Kate pulls up a photo of one of her tracksuit mafia guys for Peter to vet. He shakes his head - he hasn't seen the guy, but makes a note of it for later. There's so much he doesn't know, but Daredevil and Kate have a few nuggets of their own:

"There was a big bounty out the other night, when you called me. I was wondering why it was so high - " Daredevil gives a vague nod towards Fiyero. "It makes sense, with Oscorp holding the purse strings."

"Is it still active?" Peter asks, a note of worry in his tone. Kate shakes her head, propping a hand on her hip.

"No. Went kaput about three days ago - last I heard, anyway. The guys I was talking to just assumed it had been fulfilled." Peter's not sure what that means, exactly, but it's better than still having an active manhunt out for Fiyero.

"Maybe they called it back after they put the chip in." Peter theorizes, and Kate shrugs noncommittally. It's possible, but they can't be sure.

"We'll put some feelers out, see what blows back." Daredevil sets his jaw, tilting his head to listen to something out on the street. "Keep us in the loop before you do anything stupid, Spiderman."

"Aw man, when do I ever?" Peter jokes, shifting to jostle Kate a little - proof that they're okay, when she cracks a small smile.

It's reassuring, that Peter reaches out to him. Just a simple touch, way less than he would do if they were alone. But it still matters that he did it, a tiny point of connection reminding him that he would comfort Fiyero far more if he could. The words, too. It's always a little weird looking at Spiderman, but that's Peter's voice telling him he's okay.

Fiyero settles nearby, and he can't help but smile as Peter challenges, would you? Peter defends and protects him in a lot of ways. It's not so often he needs to protect him from people being nosy and insensitive, but he's clearly ready to step up in any way it would help.

Besides that, he tries not to pay too much attention. He picks up on there having been a bounty on him that's no longer active, and beyond that he sort of tunes them out.

He's trying not to spiral about the fact he's pretty sure he just used his powers on two superpowered people he doesn't really know, and it worked. Of course, it works on Peter too, so why wouldn't it? But Peter is his friend, and has been since before either of them knew he could do anything remotely like this, so he understands Fiyero has no ill intentions. These other guys just met him. And he can't help but worry what they would think or do, if they found out.

At least they seem friendly? He's vaguely aware of Peter joking, so he knows things can't be too bad. The takes a slow breath, closing his eyes for a moment. His hands are clenched together and his jaw is tight, and he hadn't even really noticed, but he makes a conscious effort to try to relax. Peter would notice if there was danger, and Peter certainly wouldn't let anything happen to Fiyero. Even if it was his friends who wanted to do it.

Fiyero is quiet, moving to sit nearby and collect himself while the vigilantes all finish catching each other up to speed. Peter’s anxious, warring with the desire to check on Fiyero - and also to protect him, by not checking on him. Fiyero’s heartbeat stays steady - a little elevated, maybe, but steady - and Peter uses it to ground himself. Everything is fine.

“So… his powers…?” Kate lowers her voice to a hushed whisper, respectful, at least, but Peter wouldn’t be surprised if Fiyero could still hear her. Peter can feel his own jaw tightening, and he directs his words at Daredevil - though honestly, they sound more like a warning.

“I’m handling it.” There’s a beat, a moment of charged pause where Kate’s gaze slides between them - Peter, Fiyero, Peter again, and finally Daredevil - before Daredevil’s lips press in a thin line and he inclines his head in acknowledgement. Peter nods back, a silent thanks. “We’ll keep digging on Oscorp. I know where to look, in their special projects division.”

“And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” Kate crosses her arms, ponytail swinging, and Peter sighs, sheepish, spreading a hand wide.

“Still working on that part.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Daredevil repeats, a warning of his own. “Meet here, in two days. Sooner, if you find anything.”

“Sir yessir,” Peter snaps into a cheeky salute, and Kate grins, offering her own lazy two-finger salute. Daredevil sighs, sparing one more glance at Fiyero - and glancing back pointedly at Peter - before he takes off running, launching himself off the edge of the roof to tumble expertly over to the next one.

“He does love to make an exit.” Kate muses, reaching out to clap Peter on the shoulder. “Spidey, always a pleasure. Prince Charming - ”

She turns, giving Fiyero a little wave goodbye. Peter’s glad for the mask, concealing his reaction to the word prince. “Nice to meet you. Now, I’m going to climb down the fire escape like a normal person.”

Kate jerks a thumb towards it, then turns to make for it. She gets a few rungs down and looks up at them again with a smile. “See ya, webs. Ken.”

And then, of course, she slides down the fire escape ladder instead of climbing, with an energetic whoop. It’s the gloves, saving her from friction burn - Peter should have guessed.

He shakes his head and moves over to Fiyero in a few strides, crouching down beside him. They should definitely get out of the area before they say anything incriminating, with Daredevil still potentially around, but that can wait for a quick check-in. His gloved hand finds Fiyero’s, drawing it between his palms. “Hey. You okay?”

Fiyero could probably hear, if he weren't kind of trying not to hear. He keeps his head bowed a little, even after he opens his eyes again, not seeing when they look at him. Easier that way. He trusts Peter to handle it. Fiyero will happily rise to the occasion to assist - when there is something useful for him to actually do. When there isn't, well, he will just stand back and try not to have a panic attack about all the crazy shit he's found himself in the middle up.

He does look up at sudden movement, watching as Daredevil flings himself off the edge of the building. There's only a brief moment of 'oh shit', before remembering that yeah, this is just what these people are like.

Fiyero doesn't have a mask to hide his reaction to the moniker Kate gives him. But it's not really incriminating, just a surprised and baffled raising of his eyebrows. He thinks he's been called Prince Charming before, maybe? Did Peter call him that? Yes, there was something about some movies, apparently. Fiyero belatedly gives a nod of acknowledgement at her.

And then she calls him Ken, and he really has no idea with that one, before she swoops down the ladder. The whooping reminds him of Peter, really. I can relate to that more than Daredevil's extreme seriousness.

He's still looking a little baffled as Peter approaches, and Fiyero lets out a sigh of relief. He gives Peter's hand a squeeze, reassuring and grateful at once.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he answers, nodding. Well, you know, relatively. He's not freaking out. He feels on edge still, but really, can you blame him? And uncomfortable at once again using his powers without being able to control it or even knowing he was going to do it. At least he could tell this time. "Are we heading back?" he asks, not wanting Peter to fuss over him here. He's rather get home, back to their private little safe bubble.

Fiyero looks more confused than annoyed or scared when Kate makes her escape, so Peter’s going to count that as a win. He nods, accepting Fiyero’s assessment - for now, anyway. He still seems a little off-kilter, but who wouldn’t be? Peter doesn’t think Fiyero meant for that to happen… he never does, not really. Not consciously. It’s quickly becoming something they need to deal with, in a more hands-on capacity.

As if they don’t have enough to deal with.

Wryly, Peter thinks to himself that it might just cut into their sex time. Oh, the audacity.

Peter lets his fingers run soothingly over Fiyero’s knuckles, tilting his head slightly. Fiyero really does look okay, and Peter’s once again struck with how resilient he is. Lost, so far from all he’s ever known - and yeah, he’s lost it a few times, but again, who wouldn’t? He’s okay now - he’s strong enough to bear it.

“Yeah, we can go back. We got what we needed.” Help, and information. Maybe not enough yet… but soon. The pieces were starting to come together. Peter smiles beneath the mask, raising one hand to brush Fiyero’s cheek - just a gentle reassurance, bolstering, but not lingering. Not here, where the potential for prying eyes was higher, especially while in costume. “We’ll come back in a few days. Give them time to check their sources.”

Peter claps a hand on Fiyero’s knee, squeezing his palm with the other before he lets go - not to go far, of course, but to turn around so Fiyero can climb onto his back again. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Hell’s Kitchen gives me hives.”

Fiyero misses seeing Peter’s comforting brown eyes looking back at him. He feels like he's the one who could use a grounding, peaceful kiss right now, but it will just have to wait. The touch against his cheek though, that's very appreciated. At least Peter can see the soft, grateful smile Fiyero gets in return.

He nods in agreement, pushing himself up smoothly. He didn't need to sit down because he was dizzy or anything like that - it just feels more protected, being able to draw his knees up a little. If Peter weren't there to be his protector, he would have stood strong. But even without really being able to talk or touch, Peter's presence gives him just enough security that he can let himself look weak. Which is actually quite a compliment.

"Well, yes, when you call a place Hell's Kitchen," Fiyero answers with a snort, trying to keep it light, bolstering them both. He shifts the backpack, tucks the scarf in properly, before he hops up onto Peter's back, taking his usual position. "VIP ready for departure," he jokes, a quiet whisper into Peter's ear.

The smile definitely soothes some nerves Peter didn’t even fully clock - Fiyero’s alright. His heartbeat is steady, and there’s no immediate danger. Jeez, when did Peter’s state of being become so entwined with Fiyero’s? Perhaps he was doomed the moment they set eyes on each other in the park. He forgot what it was like, having a piece of your heart walking around outside of your body.

Stressful, really.

But it’s all worth it, for the way Fiyero surprises him with the joke - Peter laughs, loud and free, resting a hand over Fiyero’s coiled arms to squeeze, before he follows Daredevil’s lead and catapults them over the edge of the building in a few long strides. Peter twists, torquing them through the air to build up power before his web hits, releasing it in a snap that sends them wheeling into the street.

It’s a relatively peaceful night - they pass an ambulance, drunk club goers, old men smoking cigars on front stoops. Peter swings them back towards home, breath puffing out of his mask with the exertion - it’s getting colder, as the night starts dipping towards morning. It’s as they cross into Midtown that Peter gets an idea, and he curves them around a block of apartments towards the waterfront - it’ll breeze them past home, but in the dark and away from their building, he’s not sure Fiyero will notice.

He swings them across the bridge towards Queens - which is less swinging and more running, when he lands on a steel beam and sticks, gloved hands fitting under Fiyero’s thighs to hoist him like a backpack. Lights glitter on the water, distorted reflections that give the illusion of a night sky reflected back at them. Safely over, Peter swings them to a skidding stop around a corner, leaving a scuff mark with his shoe. He taps Fiyero’s leg to indicate he should get down, bouncing to turn around and face him. “Give me - two minutes. Stay right here, yeah?”

Peter leaves him under a streetlight - ducking into the diner just a few paces away. As the door opens, the woman behind the counter cheers - Spiderman! - before the sound is lost to the door closing behind him. The next minute or so is an amusing display of charades through the window - Peter tries to give the woman money out of his boot, gesturing animatedly as she ignores him, bustling behind the counter. Men wearing reflective construction gear yell something at him from the back, and Peter does a handstand, walking a few paces towards their table.

He’s merrily thrown out of the diner moments later with a takeout box that the woman refuses to take any money for, the door opening again to a cacophony of cheerful noise, and Peter jogs back over to Fiyero, offering him the box. It’s warm, smelling spiced, like… cinnamon?

“Care for a quick detour?” Peter offers, one gloved hand smoothing gently down the front of Fiyero’s coat, brushing the wayward strands of his scarf back into place. “Or we can go home. But… I know a place that’s perfect for some late night dessert… if you want?”

Edited 2026-02-18 10:28 (UTC)

Suddenly jumping from a building feels less stressful than a conversation. It helps that he can hang onto Peter, burying his face a little into his neck once again as he holds on. It's not quite becoming routine, still a rush, and feeling always just a bit precarious. But it's beautiful too, watching the lights flash by, and the cold air feels clearing, even as he worries about Peter being cold.

He doesn't notice the detour until they reach the river, lifting his head to look down at the water as Peter runs. Peter manages to do so surprisingly smoothly with Fiyero on his back, holding onto his legs so he barely feels jostled. It's also a great view of the skyline, the contrast between the neighbourhoods on each side of the river, and Fiyero is almost a little sad they don't get to stop to appreciate it.

Once on the ground, he slips off Peter's back, giving him a confused and curious look. "Okay," is all he manages to answer, blinking. But Peter seems cheerful, not urgent or worried, so about to avert some disaster, so Fiyero doesn't get to worried either.

He takes off his gloves, his hands comfortably warm inside them, so he can hold them up against his face, warming his nose and his cheeks with his hands and his hot breath.

His confusion turns to amusement as he watches what's happening inside, and he can't help but smile to himself at how they're responding to him. For how thankless Peter's life seems sometimes, at least he does get thanks. It's good to see.

Fiyero's smile widens as Peter returns, greeting him wordlessly, accepting the box curiously. And with more appetite now, suddenly.

"If you think it's good, I'll happily go," his voice soft. Able to safely show some of that affection again, happy when Peter reaches out to touch him. He glances over at the window, giving it a nod, his smile turning a bit playful. "You should do your shopping in that outfit. Wouldn't really matter how much you got paid then."

Fiyero is unfairly cute, peeking out from behind his gloves as Peter offers him the box. He's once again reminded of why he's grateful for the mask when his face heats, sure that the soft, sappy expression in his eyes is all but leaking through the spandex and PVC. Seeing Fiyero still be able to smile like that - wide, brimming with easy happiness - after everything, how can it not be heartening?

Peter tugs lightly at Fiyero's coat, clearly pleased - he can't very well give him a peck on the cheek like this, but he's reasonably confident Fiyero feels the vibe regardless. His hand drops to curl around Fiyero's waist, and Peter shakes his head, laughter ringing at the edges of his tone. "Why, Mr. Tigelaar. Are you suggesting I seduce the staff?"

He launches them up into the air without any further preamble, arm caging Fiyero in against his chest - and keeping the box between them, should it be jostled by the sudden movement. The spot he has in mind isn't far, an easy enough one-handed swing that settles into a rhythm with his breathing, and the quick pump of Fiyero's heart. Up, in, down, out, thump, thump, thump...

He lands lightly in the grass, holding Fiyero up just enough that his feet won't drag, so Peter is the one who absorbs the impact and Fiyero can find his footing. He's taken them to a park - not the park, still within Queens - dotted intermittently with streetlamps that shine weakly through the trees. It's really not ideal this late at night - were Fiyero with anyone else. Peter offers Fiyero his hand, curling gloved fingers around Fiyero's - he wishes he could feel him, but feeling Fiyero's ever-present, solid heat is enough, for now. "Don't worry. No cameras around here. Come on."

It's a testament to how intensely he feels about Peter. Even in the midst of everything else, it feels easy to muster up a smile for Peter. And even when it's not easy, well, it's worth it.

"Apparently it wouldn't even take you much effo-ooaahh," Fiyero breaks off mid sentence as Peter shoots them up in the air. Fiyero had barely had time to drape an arm around him - but there's no need, Peter holding him securely.

He grips on tightly anyway, just for his own sense of security. But he's grinning, that rush of pleasant adrenaline. And yes, his heart is definitely beating. As exciting as it can be, it's still a relief when he lands on solid ground again.

"You're not always big on warnings, are you?" he asks, a tease in his voice. He takes Peter's hand, giving it a squeeze and holding on. He misses nature, so he's happy to find himself in a park as Peter leads the way.

Peter's grinning to himself by the time they land, reasonably confident that his bid for distraction has been successful - Fiyero doesn't appear to be ruminating on the clandestine meeting, at least, not in the present moment. Peter shakes his head, thumb sweeping against the back of Fiyero's hand as he leads them through the grass - hitting pavement and following the curve of it through the trees. For a city as hectic as New York could be, at night it almost seemed... transformed. A slumbering beast, holding it's breath until the sunrise.

"Where's the fun in that?" Peter teases right back, bumping his shoulder into Fiyero's companionably. There's no one around, and as they wander deeper into the park, the only company they find are their own shadows, stretching out long before them with the streetlamp on their backs.

"We're not far from May's." Peter tilts his head, glancing East - the transition back into city suburb glitters along the edge of the darkened park. "Great picnic spot, during the day."

Peter has definitely managed to snap Fiyero out of worrying, for the moment. He is easily distracted with something shiny and exciting in front of him. Apart from his moment of losing control, using his powers on them, it seemed to go well. And as for that slip up, well, they didn't really seem to notice - or at least realise and understand what happened. Honestly though, Fiyero would like to not be around them again unless he can control himself, simply because he doesn't imagine they would take kindly to being manipulated like that, no matter how unintentional.

But now his focus is on Peter, and on finally getting to touch him again. Even just openly holding hands through gloves feels nice. He can't wait to be curled up in bed together, but he also wants to see everything Peter wants to show him.

"And at night? You probably have super vision in the dark too, don't you?" Fiyero answers, gently teasing still. "Where exactly are we heading?"

Peter’s begun to learn that it’s best to cut the bad with something good. Turning around to address it right now - when it’s not immediately pressing, when they have the time to decompress - isn’t going to do them any favors. Talking about it when they’re cuddled up in bed, when Fiyero is calm and winding down, is probably better.

So distraction and enjoying themselves where they can, in the meantime, is key. Especially when Peter knows that the conversation and where it’s ultimately headed will, inevitably, cause plenty of stress. Peter grins, glancing over at Fiyero, the subtle tip of his masked face. “Super vision works in the light and the dark.”

“Mm… you’ll see.” Peter squeezes Fiyero’s hand, guiding him around a copse of shrubs. As they pass through it, the destination becomes more clear - twinkling lights in distance, a blazing monument in the otherwise darkened park. As they get closer, the mirage forms - it’s a carousel, the horses mounted on golden poles resting dormant, frozen mid-gallop.

Fiyero's starting to be able to tell a bit more of Peter's expressions behind that mask. There's only so much you can see, but the way the cheeks puff up a little, he feels like he can see the inklings of a smile. More importantly, he can hear it in Peter's voice. And it is Peter's voice, not the Spiderman voice he seems to put on, changing it ever so slightly.

He doesn't ask more, waiting somewhat patiently as they walk together, squeezing Peter's hand in return. It takes him a moment to realise what he's even looking at.

"Oh! I saw one of those, the place we went one of my first days here," Fiyero says, surprise and interest in his voice, and a hint of wonder. It's very different in the dark, no multi-coloured lights or cloying music. It almost feels a little sad, the way it's looking now.

“Yeah, but this is the best one in town.” Peter watches as Fiyero takes it in - yeah, maybe it’s not as fancy as the other one. This one is a historic landmark, hand-carved wood depicting the horses and circus animals, bright yellow bulbs instead of the wild multi-colored lights and no music cycling on repeat - but Peter almost likes it better that way. Just the two of them, this little oasis of light and whimsy, a place to be truly alone in the city that never sleeps.

“Security guard route doesn’t pass through here until 2AM.” Peter tugs on Fiyero’s hand, pulling him closer so he can lift Fiyero by the waist and set him on the edge of the carousel. It’s not like Fiyero particularly needs the help, but his hands are full with dessert and it gives Peter an excuse to touch him. Peter climbs up easily after him, hands sticking to the two closest poles so he can balance like the spidery creature he is. “No cameras, either. Historical monument means a fuckton of paperwork to change anything.”

There’s a two-person carriage nearby, and Peter spins himself around one of the poles to prop himself up against the painted wood. He does a little comedic flourish and offers his hand to Fiyero, playacting the footman. “Your steed, my lord?”

Fiyero definitely finds this one more charming. On the one hand, it feels lonely, surrounded by the darkness, but it's also a wonderful little pearl in the middle of the quiet. An oasis of whimsy indeed.

He chuckles a little as Peter picks him up and lifts him. Fiyero definitely could have gotten up here himself, it's not that tall, even carrying dessert. (There must also be an actual staircase somewhere, surely?) But it's sweet, and it's also kind of hot, being lovingly manhandled like that.

It's more lovely up close, the wooden models certainly must have taken some craft to make, and it's clearly old. Historical monument and all.

Fiyero smiles warmly as Peter practically bows to offer his hand, and Fiyero takes it, stepping onto the model carriage. He sets the food down, pulling off his backpack before sitting down, backpack in front of his feet. The very first thing he does is open it and pull out the sweater, playfully thrusting it at Peter. Clearly a demand, not a request. No need for him to be sticking to things right now. And it's not as cold when they're not flying through the air, but it's still chilly, and he won't have the movement keeping him warm.

Peter snorts with fond amusement as Fiyero offers him the sweater - or rather, presses it into his hands. He doesn’t argue - far too touched at the thoughtfulness to, really - and takes it, slips into the garment, red, webbed head poking through the top as he folds his arms inside and lets it fall over his gangly frame. It makes sense, when he’s hiding the outfit - but with the mask and gloves still on, the ensemble definitely looks interesting.

He pulls two sets of plastic silverware out of his boot - wrapped in plastic baggies, with a knife, fork, and napkin each. Peter folds himself into the carriage next, tucking his legs underneath himself - there’s not much room, with two fully grown men sharing a carousel seat, but Peter’s used to odd angles and cramming himself into small spaces.

Peter slides a hand beneath the takeout box, deftly slipping it from Fiyero’s grasp and leaving him with a set of silverware instead. Gloved fingertips press to the top of the box, sticking easily, and he lifts it with panache, like a clamshell holding treasure, presenting it to Fiyero.

Inside is a steaming piece of pie - apple sugar and cinnamon oozing gently from the flaky crust. Peter sets it between them, balanced on their thighs; with the size of the carriage, there’s not much room for it to spill anywhere, anyway. His shoulder bumps Fiyero, and Peter leans against him, content to let Fiyero dig in first. “Think we deserve it, after tonight.”

Fiyero smiles with satisfaction as Peter obeys his nonverbal command, glad he's allowing himself to be warm. Surely he doesn't need to be sticking to anything just now. They're just gonna snuggle up together and eat food, and that will probably help with the heat too.

He's amused at where Peter has things hidden away, and he adjusts as Peter sits down, sitting comfortably pressed up together. They've really adopted each other into their personal bubbles.

When Peter opens the box, Fiyero gives a deep inhale through his nose, enjoying that amazing smell and letting out a happy sigh. He almost immediately takes the fork to dig in, closing his eyes with a satisfied hum, nodding as if approving of it.

He only goes for two bites though, before he sets the fork down in the box. He pulls off his gloves and twists a little towards Peter, reaching up for his fingertips to find that subtle seam for his mask. "May I?"

The fact that Fiyero cares and looks out for him in whatever way he can - Peter’s not used to it, but it means it’s always a pleasant surprise. Fiyero is a line of warmth against his side, and it feels so natural to be like this. To be close, to offer Fiyero a hand or grab him and lovingly manhandle him. Peter’s just so comfortable with him now - and it’s true, they’ve been living out of each other’s pockets - that it comes as second nature.

Peter grins beneath the mask as Fiyero eagerly digs into the dessert, pleased that Fiyero seems relatively relaxed. Good. It might not be much, but they take the good moments where they can find them. It seems to pass the good enough for human consumption test, and Peter twirls his own silverware between his fingers, fiddling. “Best pie in Queens, don’t let anybody tell you different.”

His smile softens when Fiyero reaches for him, tilting his head appropriately for the grasping fingers. They’re warm against his neck, warmer still when the edge of the mask starts to lift up and Fiyero is able to brush against actual skin.

“Of course. Thanks.” Peter rests a hand on the delivery box to steady it, a little bit of his hair visible at the back as the mask starts to roll up. “Not all the way, just, uh, over my nose?”

Safer this way - even though they’re alone, with no cameras - Peter knows by now that you never know when something could happen. It’s safer on a rooftop, where someone is less likely to accidentally stumble upon them.

Fiyero is very grateful that Peter is taking the effort to distract him, to give him something nice to balance out the stress. It makes him feel like the apartment is the only place they can feel good and happy together. There room for it outside as well.

His fingertips slide gently across his neck, finding the split and almost caressing his skin as they slip inside the mask. It's very gentle and sweet, the careful way he pulls the mask up. Fiyero smiles as the instruction.

"I suppose that's enough," he answers, folding the mask just above Peter's nose. His hands move closer, cupping his cheeks, warm and affectionate and treating him like something precious. Fiyero finally leans in to kiss Peter, warm and quiet and loving, tasting of sugar and apple and cinnamon already. Giving Peter a preview of the food as well, in a way. But mostly he just wants to take a moment to enjoy the closeness. A thank you for Peter bringing him here, showing him another small wonder, giving him a tasty treat and a good memory to soften everything else.

Peter wishes, more than anything, that this world wasn’t so dangerous for Fiyero. That he could come here during the day when it’s full of people, without Peter (okay, preferably with him, but like, by choice), and be confident in his safety. That he didn’t have to walk around watching out for shadows, where Peter’s tiny shoebox apartment is the only reliable safe space. Fiyero deserves more, he deserves - the world.

It’s so intimate, taking the mask off. Peter forgot, almost, but the sweetness of it aches as Fiyero rolls the mask up, setting the bunch of fabric upon the bridge of his nose with careful fingers. Peter’s tempted to kiss his wrist as it passes by, and he lets the corner of his smile brush the meat of Fiyero’s palm. Fiyero’s hand lingers instead of dropping, and the brief moment of confusion transforms into shy wonder as Fiyero draws him in for a kiss. It feels like it says so much, without having to actually say anything. Apple, cinnamon, and a sweetness that’s purely Fiyero - Peter kisses him back softly, fingers lifting to curl in the front of Fiyero’s jacket.

You’re okay, his kiss says, and Peter lets his lips wander just a little when they part - pressing another gentle kiss yo Fiyero’s cheek. He’s sworn himself to protecting Fiyero, from all harm. Everything he can fight - whether that’s physical, or emotional, with him feeling alone and scared.

“That’s perfect,” Peter murmurs, patting Fiyero’s chest gently. There’s not much room to disentangle far, but Peter gives the pie carton a nudge, encouraging Fiyero to go for it.

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