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

[spideyguy]

[ aka wicked ii: lost in new york ]

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[winkieprince]

Fiyero knows Peter heard that. Even without special hearing, it would be impossible not to. There's another, smaller retch, followed by some soft coughing and spitting, and then heavy breathing. No signs of dying or anything like that.

He's a little surprised Peter didn't come running. Perhaps it's too his credit that he's giving Fiyero privacy. Fiyero can only imagine if he even whispered his name, Peter would probably be at his side in a second. Unless he's getting sick (no pun intended) of having to look after every little thing for Fiyero. Fiyero wouldn't blame him. He doesn't like to demand much. He doesn't truly expect much. It's probably for the best that Peter gets a break from fussing over him.

Fiyero reaches up to flush, then sits down on the cool tile for a moment, closing his eyes. He doesn't feel like he's gonna throw up anymore, but the queasy feeling lingers. Not like when you throw up alcohol, and it goes away after you empty your stomach.

He gives himself a minute or two to just sit, before he pushes himself up, getting to his feet. His head doesn't feel great, a little woozy from that, but not faint.

Almost mechanically, he rinses out his mouth, washes his face and hands again, and brushes his teeth for good measure. He doesn't like the look of himself in the mirror, but he tries to straighten up a bit, to make himself look less pathetic than he feels. It sort of works.

He finally emerges from the bathroom, and he swears he can tell Peter is pointedly not looking at him but that he's very much paying attention. Peter's not particularly good at pretending to act casual.

Fiyero is a bit better at it, and it would be convincing if the events of his bathroom visit just now was more of a secret. Oh well. Fiyero just does what he had wanted to anyway. Which is to walk up behind Peter, looping his arms around his waist, resting his chin on Peter's shoulder. "You ordered some cuddles," he points out softly. He can still be a good, cuddly boyfriend.

[spideyguy]

Guiltily, Peter feels like he's overstepped - even without having actually done anything. It's easier when nobody knows about his abilities - when he has plausible deniability, and they're not stuck in the he-knows-I-know of it all. That for Fiyero to have true privacy, it has to happen out of Peter's rather large radius - that's tough. He's already had so much of his own agency and privacy stripped from him, and violently, too. Peter doesn't like feeling like he's contributing to that.

There's nothing for it, though, aside from what they're doing - which is apparently pretending like it didn't happen. Peter has the urge to chew on his thumbnail, an anxious tic that he suppresses, sliding another round of pancakes off the pan and onto the increasingly tall stack on the plate. No, he's not good at acting casual - he hasn't been, this whole time. Pretending like he didn't have feelings for Fiyero? Abysmal failure. Pretending like he's not Spiderman? Barely lasted a week.

Peter lets his cheek brush Fiyero's as his boyfriend settles behind him (and jeez, his boyfriend. Peter's not sure whether to blush or have a conniption.) He pours another round of batter, starting to get to the bottom of the bowl, and rests one hand on Fiyero's arms while the other wields the spatula, nudging the edges to make sure the pancakes don't stick.

"Mm, I didn't know they delivered." He smiles softly, hand rubbing gently along Fiyero's arm. It's a reassuring touch, reaffirming that he's there - even if Fiyero doesn't want to talk, and just wants to use Peter as a human body pillow. He's there, and there's nowhere he'd rather be. "Food's almost done..."

[winkieprince]

Peter's not so much overstepping as he is unable to really step back. Fiyero knows that, that Peter would happily give him privacy if he could. The one privacy Fiyero has is his thoughts. He shares those with Peter too, but only when he wants to, and Peter doesn't press. It will have to be enough.

Fiyero hums softly in response, enjoying the closeness. He playfully shifts his cheek against Peter's in a way to make their stubble rub together. If Peter's worried - which he usually seems to be - Fiyero being playful seems to reassure him.

Peter doesn't ask, though. Fiyero's not entirely sure why, and it's simultaneously a bit of a relief and a bit disappointing. He might just feel awkward about bringing it up.

"I'll see how much I can manage," he answers softly. A way to acknowledge that yes, he's not feeling the best, and food might be a challenge. Just to show that he's not completely pretending it didn't happen. Mentioning it so Peter knows he's allowed to, well... also acknowledge it.

[spideyguy]

Peter laughs quietly, twitching at the rough scrape of stubble; he doesn’t get much, but it’s enough to feel it, hyper-sensitive. Fiyero seems in good spirits - enough to keep the mood light, which is a good sign. Peter flips the pancakes over, enjoying the feeling of Fiyero’s hum vibrating through his chest, into Peter’s back - it’s nice. Being with him… it’s very nice. Even when everything else isn’t.”

“Yeah, whatever you can stomach.” Peter agrees, tone gentle, and the hand on Fiyero’s arms rubs again comfortingly, fingers sliding to encircle Fiyero’s wrist. Given tacit permission to address it, Peter’s concern is evident. “Stomach upset? I think I have some ginger - or tea, if you want? Maybe it’ll help.”

[winkieprince]

Good spirits might be an exaggeration. But he's fighting to be, and failing that, giving the impression that he is. If Peter thinks he's in good spirits, then he's succeeding at something. He could fake it much more strongly than he is, brush it off and summon his energy to be the chipper, dapper, charming version of himself that is what most people get to see.

But it feels too much like lying to someone he doesn't want to lie to. Peter would see through it, at least partially, and he'd probably feel lied to as well, or feel like Fiyero was shutting him out - which of course would be accurate. And then he wouldn't get Peter touching him like that, offering him comfort in different ways, through touch or words or food and drink.

So Fiyero's just going to smooth the rough edges, push down the worst - but still let Peter in. Now he's gotten to feel what it's like, that kind of care and comfort, he finds himself almost addicted to it. Even when it's uncomfortable or too much, he still seems to crave it.

"I'll try whatever remedy you think is best," Fiyero answers, accepting the offer. And while he kind of wants to just rest his cheek against Peter's shoulder and close his eyes, he can't let himself wallow. So instead he shifts a little and presses some kisses to the back and side of Peter's neck. Nothing suggestive, just wanting to distract himself by showering Peter with some gentle affection - and distract Peter from worrying too much about him too.

[spideyguy]

Good enough spirits, perhaps Peter should amend. As he's well aware, it could always be worse; and unfortunately, not-as-bad-as-it-could-be is a very familiar emotion to him. He wishes Fiyero wasn't having the same experience, but all Peter can do is be there to weather to storm with him. As much as Fiyero will let him, anyway.

At least that seems to be going okay; they're calm, and that goes a long way towards accepting circumstances for what they are. Fiyero might still not be feeling the best, but he's holding onto Peter and allowing himself the tacit comfort of being close - which is more than he permitted himself a week ago, for sure. It's more than Peter's permitted himself in a long time... they're both getting used to it.

"Both is good," Peter teases, keeping his tone light, trying not to let concern win out - Fiyero's letting him take care of him, so he's going to shut up and do just that. Light kisses trail idly against his neck - not for any particular purpose or goal, but just to... feel nice. To be present with each other. Just because Fiyero wants to, and Peter tries not to let his heart swell up inside his chest, but - it's a losing battle.

Peter lets his cheek rub against Fiyero's hair for a second before he refocuses, plating the remaining pancakes and turning off the burner. The syrup and plates and utensils are already in a neat pile on the counter, and Peter offers them to Fiyero, turning in his arms. One hand slides behind Fiyero, offering a warm hand on his lower back while the other holds out the plates. "Here, baby. I'll make the tea; I'll be right over."

He presses a kiss to Fiyero's temple and offers him an encouraging smile, thumb brushing lightly against the knob of his spine. They do have some time to cuddle and let Fiyero relax after his nightmare - benefits of waking with the sun, Peter supposes. Still, he thinks Fiyero will feel better with something in his stomach.