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

“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.

It's been a whirlwind of a time here... Fiyero's certainly not used to being in danger. Not at danger of physical harm, from anything except his own stunts. But he's also not used to having someone so wonderful to spend his time with, someone he feels for so deeply, so quickly. He's taking the bad with the good. Being able to see all these things, even if it's with Peter's protection, is more thrilling than anything.

He's not using to feeling this much. He's hardwired to feel shame over his breakdowns, but is it really so strange? Surely there's only so much emotion a person can handle. Maybe that's also why it's spilling out of him through his powers. Or maybe he's feeling so much because of what they did to him. He doesn't know. He's just trying his best to enjoy the good things while they last.

It feels right, if Fiyero was the one to put on Peter's mask, he should be the one to free him from it as well, at least partially. The symbolism isn't lost on him. It feels like taking off someone's armour, or uniform. Unveiling the real person underneath.

The kiss feels almost like a relief, after all the stress and hiding. Well, it may not have been that much or lasted that long, but it felt long. Kissing Peter feels like a clear demarcation that now they're on 'Peter and Fiyero time', enjoying themselves in relative privacy.

Fiyero hums, smiling sweetly as they part, pulling back slowly. "Yes it is," he agrees softly, and his expression confirms it. These small moments of perfection really is what makes everything worth it.

He lets his arm loop around Peter's shoulders, resting on the back of the carriage. Leaning against each other comfortably. He picks up the fork with his other hand at Peter's encouraging, cutting off another bite. With a playful smile, he feeds this bite to Peter first though. Sickeningly sweet and couple-y behaviour, he knows, but who cares? Peter clearly enjoys that stuff, and Fiyero loves doing it for him.

After that, he will make sure to feed himself though, because that is very good pie, and he wants to eat it while it's still warm.

Peter, too, is in a similar position - he’s feeling a lot. Fiyero is inspiring emotions long dormant, things Peter thought were out of his reach forever. Fiyero is, of course, definitely in the wilder situation, but it’s not just the craziness that’s making him feel so deeply. It might be the catalyst for it happening so quickly… but Peter thinks he might have fallen a little bit in love at first sight regardless.

Peter’s grin is visible now, the apples of his cheeks pulling at the bunching of the mask. He settles against Fiyero’s side, legs pretzeled between Fiyero and the side of the carriage. Fiyero’s hand rests against his shoulders, a comforting, warm weight, and Peter laughs warmly before he accepts the forkful of pie with a light scrape of his teeth against the tines.

Yes, perhaps it’s a tad cheesy - but that’s where Peter does some of his best work. Fiyero’s right - he likes doing the little things, the couple-y things. That Fiyero goes out of his way for Peter’s benefit is just… endlessly sweet.

He unwraps his own fork to dig in, webbed, gloved hand joining Fiyero’s in shredding the pie’s flaky crust. It’s just as good as ever, though Peter hasn’t been to that diner in a while. It’s not just the new things Fiyero is bringing into his life that are enabling Peter to be so besotted; it’s the reminders of the old joys, too. One’s he’s been ignoring for far too long.

“That was a lot, tonight.” Peter breaks the silence gently, after a bout of peace where the wind whistles through the park and the pie steams between them. Peter tilts his head, unmoving lenses fixed on Fiyero; but his mouth is more expressive, drawing in a concerned slant. It’s a bizarre picture, but it’s still Peter, underneath it all. Just the two of them, with the good and the bad. “Are you okay?”

It's a comfortable quiet, just the two of them digging in, relaxing against each other. Fiyero can hear the light wind too, but he's sure Peter can hear things a million miles away. At least they don't have to worry about anyone sneaking up on them. Well, at least unless Fiyero distracts him with more kisses. But he'll at least wait until they've finished eating, and mostly he'd prefer to do that at home.

Fiyero looks up as Peter breaks the silence, always a little surprised to see that mask staring back at him, even if it's just the top half. He can't see Peter's eyes, just those lenses aimed at him, but he can imagine the concerned look they have to match his mouth. He looks back down at the pie at the question, considering.

"I suppose I am," he answers softly, trying to avoid simply dismissing his concern. But truly, it's hard to know how he's feeling, and it's not exactly easy to talk about it either. He's hanging in there? He feels good now, or at least he was until Peter asked. And even now, it feels a bit more distant. "It did seem to go alright? I mean, they agreed to help, and they didn't ask too many questions."

Peter doesn't want to break the peace - he truly, truly doesn't. But that's another one of his skills - doing things he very much does not want to. That he has to. But hopefully in such a way that it's not all bad.

"It's okay if you're not." Peter reaches over to squeeze Fiyero's hand, thumb lingering against his wrist. He's not trying to press - just letting Fiyero know he's there for him. "But yeah, I think it went well. They know it's... delicate. Difficult. But I think they also trust that we're telling the truth, and that's the most important thing. They'll let us get away with the omission as long as they know that's true."

Which, frankly, is fair. Neither of them have seen Peter's face, or know his real name. Sometimes Peter wonders if maybe Daredevil might have guessed by now, but he's never said anything, so they've never addressed it either way.

"And I do believe they can help." Peter offers a smile, picking up another forkful of pie. "I've worked with them before. Having backup doesn't hurt anything, you know? I trust them."

Fiyero knows that Peter thinks it's okay if he's not okay. That he'll be there if Fiyero falls apart. That he won't judge or blame him. But there's also the part of him that knows, irrationally and against all evidence, that this time Peter will have had enough, or think he's weak or disappointing or not good enough, if Fiyero doesn't stay strong. It's why he appreciates the reminder, that Peter reassures him, explicitly. To help quiet that voice.

He nods as Peter talks, watching his pie more than Peter. After a moment, pulling his hand away just to take another bite, as Peter does the same thing. Even if his appetite tends to flee at conversations like this, he wants to do something with his hands and his mouth. At least Peter is eating too. It's become something of a mission to make sure he does.

Fiyero really doesn't mistrust their intentions or their ability to help. If Peter trust them, Fiyero has no reason not to. And clearly they need allies. If nothing else, to give Peter a break. He can't be everywhere at once, and Fiyero would like to actually spend some quality time with him as well, without feeling too guilty about not working to try to fix things, or keeping Peter away from his other responsibilities.

"You think they noticed? When I..." Fiyero trails off nervously. Peter clearly noticed something, so Fiyero would rather not say it out loud. He expects Peter to ask why and what happened and all that, so he's deciding to broach it so Peter doesn't have to be the one to bring it up. Well, and because.. he would like to know. If that's something they should be concerned about.

Peter watches him, though it's not so obvious with his mask still on, and the way his head is tipped down to the pie. Fiyero does seem alright, which is heartening. It means they can tackle this together, as a team. Relying on each other, in all ways, is the only way through - and if Fiyero is confident enough to rely on him, Peter wants to do his best to be there.

"Daredevil might have." Peter admits, pushing a flake of crust around with his fork before he scoops it up, popping the sugary goo into his mouth. He's glad Fiyero is bringing it up - it makes it feel less taboo, indicating that Fiyero is ready to talk about it, despite how fraught it is. If they can do that, maybe it can get better. Maybe they can start to deal with it, and make some progress.

Peter knows they're going to need to, if they have any chance of pulling off what he hopes to against Oscorp.

"I don't think either of them clocked it too hard. And I discouraged them from asking any further questions." Peter taps his fork idly against the carton, thinking over it. It's almost like Fiyero's influence could be chalked up to a blind spot, with the way it functions. Luckily it wasn't more overt. "I... can't say I understand what happened, exactly. Like, what... sparked it? Do you know, or did it just... happen?"

It's not exactly great that it keeps happening without Fiyero's conscious thought. In a high-stress situation, it made more sense, but it seems like it's happening more and more. Or is Peter just getting better at noticing it? Is it just because it wasn't affecting him? He has so many questions, and they know relatively little by comparison.

Fiyero's not thrilled to hear Daredevil might have noticed - but he's also glad Peter isn't lying about it. He really is earning the trust that Fiyero dares to put in him when it comes to these things. He's reassuring Fiyero, without pretending like everything is totally fine. At least what he's saying matches up with what Fiyero's impression was at the time... Or at least he thinks so. He was pretty stressed out.

"Um..." he answers at the question. He's not sure how to phrase it, but... "It wasn't intentional. I just remember wanting them to stop laughing at you, and.. they did."

He feels immediately slightly awkward at the fact he included the 'at you' bit, like that's an almost embarrassing detail. Maybe he could have chalked it up to the stress of the situation, being overwhelmed by their laughing and joking, but... No, it really was because it felt like they were teasing Peter. He can't deny that to himself.

"Oh." Peter's not sure what he expected, but that's certainly different. He sits up a little straighter beneath Fiyero's arm, turning that over in his mind. He hadn't even registered it at the time, beyond the usual bickering that happened when New York's Sassiest Vigilantes got together.

"They didn't... mean anything by it." Peter's tone is gentle, hand lowering to squeezes Fiyero's knee lightly. He can feel the heat rising in his own cheeks, slowly connecting it back to their conversation form before. Fiyero didn't mean anything by it either, and if Peter had been in a better headspace - like he is now, when he's just baseline - it would have been different. "But..."

"I appreciate you looking out for me," His smile is small, but genuine, and Peter bumps their shoulders together again, tucking himself against Fiyero's side more intentionally.

Honestly, it's not like Peter even seemed that upset. Annoyed and embarrassed, but not.. upset. Not hurt or insecure. Or at least not as far as Fiyero could tell, and Peter's not acting like it now, reassuring him. He glances up at Peter, and - is he starting to match the colour of his mask, just a tiny bit? Maybe.

Fiyero smiles as Peter's appreciation and the way he bumps into him. Fiyero's arm tightens a little around Peter's shoulders in return, giving him a one-armed squeeze.

"I dunno. I guess I was just worried about everything, and it was just making it worse listening to her laughing and joking," Fiyero continues, which is probably also a large part of it. Or at least why he unintentionally resorted to using his powers rather than actually speaking up or anything like that instead, like a normal person would. Defending Peter was just the specific trigger. Which seems to be a pattern.

"It was a lot happening at once," Peter empathizes, head tilting as he leans into Fiyero's grasp. More proof that he's okay, unbothered by both Kate's comments and Fiyero's powers. It's not the power itself that worries him - and it doesn't make him view Fiyero any differently. "Kate doesn't exactly have a great grasp on reading the room."

"Your power is tied to your emotions." It's obvious at this point, but saying it out loud defines it in a very specific, unavoidable way. Peter chews on his lower lip, fussing with another scoop of pie as he tilts his head to glance up at Fiyero and gauge his reaction. "I think we need to find ways for you to practice safely."

It's the truth, even if it may be daunting. But if Fiyero is going to keep on as he is, and if they're going to have a chance at defending themselves... it's probably paramount that they get it under control. Fiyero doesn't have to do it alone, though.

At this point, it would probably be pretty hypocritical if Peter was bothered by Fiyero's powers, while he's sitting there in his colourful skin-tighted suit with giant bug eyes. Fiyero's self-conscious about his powers because he can force people to do things, but, well, so can Peter, just in a different way. Fiyero can do it more subtly, but at least Peter notices, and that's what's important, really.

Fiyero gives a soft hum of acknowledgement at Peter stating it's tied to his emotions. Yeah, it is obvious, and it has been for a while. Emotions that are tied to wanting to change something. Not just when he's happy. Not even when he's upset, not in itself. When there is something he wants different, something urgent.

And yeah, as Peter might expect, Fiyero doesn't look thrilled at the idea of practicing. But he's also not objecting, just... not very subtle in his reluctance. 'Safely' is also an important keyword there. Not that he thinks Peter would want Fiyero to risk anything if it wasn't necessary.

"Seems kind of challenging," he points out. "I mean. Figuring out a way to make me emotional, but in a way that's actually going to trigger it?" Doesn't sound like something either of them wants to do. If he could make it happen from fun and happiness, sure, but so far it's only really been bad emotions.

It is a little bit different, in the way Fiyero's powers can affect free will. Both can be alienating in different ways, and it's one thing for Fiyero to feel awkward and other - and a completely separate thing for him to be worried about being dangerous. Peter's trying to gauge where on the spectrum Fiyero falls, and get ahead of the most obvious points of concern.

"I don't think we need to make you emotional. We just need to figure out how to tap into the emotions that are already there." Peter assures him, finally setting his fork down so he can gesticulate properly, the way he does when he's picking up speed on an idea. "And yeah... it might not be easy. But pre-empting it might give us some insight on how it works, you know?"

"I don't know that it's necessarily just when you're experiencing a heightened emotion, either." Peter continues, head cocked in that owlish thinking pose of his. "I've noticed... I think it activates at different level of severity depending on the perceived need. Tapping into those lower levels might help you get a handle on the higher ones. If we think of it like another muscle, you have to train it, right? Rather than just... letting the adrenaline surge take over when it needs to."

Fiyero hums at Peter talking about tapping into the emotions rather than making him emotional. He supposes that makes sense... Fiyero's still idly eating the delicious pie, which is a good sign he's not too upset by the conversation. It helps that there's nothing urgent going on, no huge guilt or worry over another recent crisis or involuntary use of power. Yes, he did use it, but nothing bad or even notable came of it, it wasn't a big deal. And it's easier when he's snuggled up with Peter eating good food.

"I suppose that makes sense," he answers, still a little hesitant. "It was a lot stronger at that bar, when someone tried to drug you..." He'd affected dozens of people it seemed like, some quite strongly. Especially the one guy who wanted to get away, but who seemed rooted to the spot. Whereas just... making Kate and Daredevil stop laughing because he was annoyed, that's very different. And apparently gently nudging Peter into things sometimes too.

"I can imagine that it would be," Peter says softly, bumping their shoulders together comfortingly. He knows exactly what it feels like, the cold, awful certainty that something terrible is about to happen to someone you care about, right in front of your eyes; the desperate wish to do something to be able to stop it. It's just, for Fiyero... he can, truly, even faster and more effectively than Peter's heightened reflexes.

Nudging Peter, but also the people on the subway, giving them a wider berth than normal. Or sometimes not, when it seemed like Fiyero wanted to have Peter up in his space - it was still not uncomfortable, the way a normal train car can be packed at certain hours of the day. The way the crowds of New York never moved to separate them - no harried businessmen barrelling through their linked hands, skirting around them as they continued on their way, none the wiser to Fiyero's influence.

"We'll practice." Peter promises, lips pulling into an encouraging smile. "We'll pick something small, and you can practice on me. You won't hurt me, 'yero. I trust you."

Even if Fiyero's not sure whether or not he can trust himself... he can trust Peter. Let him bear the weight of it, too.

Fiyero smiles a little at the comforting bump. Peter really doesn't find it scary or bad that Fiyero can do this, he just appreciates Fiyero wanting to help and protect him. Well, just after that, Fiyero watched Peter do rather worse things to that guy, and as uncomfortable as it was, Fiyero can't say he blames him for it either.

In some ways, Peter might have noticed it more than Fiyero did. He doesn't notice it's weird. Fiyero isn't used to the hustle and bustle of New York, so he doesn't have the comparison. People do part to let him through, they always have. But before, it's been because he was a prince, and because he was popular and admired. So he didn't really notice anything was different, besides people not looking at him.

The way Peter is encouraging him, trusting him, it makes Fiyero feel warm inside, heart swelling. That cute smile, Fiyero wants to lean in and kiss it.

He almost leans in, but then he pauses, looking at Peter. And then he wishes real hard that Peter would lean in to kiss him first. Come on, Peter, kiss him. Kiss Fiyero.

Fiyero might be squinting a little, brow slightly knit in concentration, and it probably looks a little confusing and strange. But then again, it might also be cute enough that Peter will want to kiss him anyway.

There's something in Fiyero's expression Peter can't quite place - puzzlement? Worry? It seems too relaxed for worry; at least, the worry the two of them are used to. The burst of fondness that follows is all Peter, but he doesn't quite catch on to the way it amps - his grin widens, pulling at the edges of his mouth, and Peter reaches up a hand to draw Fiyero in, pressing a warm, reassuring kiss to his lips with zero hesitation.

Did it work, or was Peter primed to do that anyway? Was the fact that he was already inclined to kiss Fiyero making him more susceptible to Fiyero's powers? Either way, it seems slight enough that Peter hasn't noticed he was affected, at first. His hand starts to drop, body shifting to settle back in his seat, before the wave hits him ~~(perhaps Fiyero's enthusiasm at potential success?)~~

Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him right now -

"Oh." Peter gasps quietly, fingers catching and fisting in Fiyero's shirt of their own accord, as he drags his mouth eagerly to Fiyero's. It's a powerful, irresistible wave, and the intensity of it catches him off guard. Peter makes a soft sound at the back of his throat, lips parted obligingly, pliable and, at the same time, deeply fervent, like Fiyero reached in and dragged the passion right to the fore.

Fiyero definitely has a surge of triumph mixed in with the usual happiness at Peter leaning in to kiss him, making him that more excited about the kiss, and thereby probably intensifying his powers. He doesn't even do much physically beyond just pursing his lips happily, fighting a smile.

Still, he's not expecting it to work quite so well, and he makes a small sound of surprise as Peter's lips suddenly again collide with his, with much more fervor than the first one. The intensity catches him off guard too, returning the kiss a little messily, his hand rising to wrap around Peter's wrist.

The influence abates as quickly as it came, as Fiyero had never intended for Peter to keep kissing him, or really do much more than lean in once. As much as he loves it, he won't love it if he feels like he tricks Peter into it. He makes a small noise of pause into Peter's mouth, his other hand rising to rest on Peter's chest, through his over-sized sweater, very gently pushing him away.

Peter appreciates the assistance, because there's a moment where he's almost not sure what to do - where the free will floods back in, because the nonverbal instructions weren't particularly defined, and it's disorienting - doing something involuntarily like that. It's not a bad feeling, necessarily, but it does explain why people keep stopping and blinking in the wake of Fiyero's powers.

"Sorry," Peter finally settles on after a beat, sounding slightly breathless. He pauses, and it's hard to gauge what he's thinking, with only his jaw visible. At least it doesn't look tight, thick with tension - just contemplative, like he's still processing what just happened. "That was... how did you do that?"

His tone isn't accusatory - it's awed, fascination evident. No, Peter doesn't find it overly disturbing - of course, it's obvious that powers like Fiyero's could be used for truly terrible things, but it's also true that any kind of power could be utilized to such ends. What matters is what Fiyero actually chooses to do with his gifts.

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