( Peter is equally unaware why Matt had fallen for him, they had that in common. still he can tell well enough that he was genuine, and despite all his attempts to prove to Matt Murdock he wasn’t worth the energy here the guy was, smiling and pulling him closer and making dumb jokes to try and make him laugh. for once in his life Peter does not protest Matt calling him a boy, perhaps because they were both boys in this situation which made it a little less aggravating.
it takes him a minute, running calloused fingertips over the stubble on Matt’s jaw, taking him in and trying to memorize every piece of him. because maybe it really was inevitable that he’d lose him and if that was the case Peter has lost too many people not to cling onto every new memory he can get his hands on. )
I’m sorry I was a shithead, ( Peter mumbles, eyes wandering because despite the fact Matt is blind, Peter hates looking people in the eye when he has to say something uncomfortable. ) I love you too, you know? That’s the scariest part.
( loving means having something to lose. putting a name on things made them too real, and reminded him too much of what he lost. it had been easier to panic and recoil and if he weren’t in so very deep, maybe he’d have been able to stay away. but just ask Gwen Stacy how good Peter was at truly leaving behind someone he loves. )
( Matt couldn't sense Peter avoiding his eyes-- but even if he knew, it wouldn't be a big deal. He hasn't made eye contact with anyone since he was nine. Seemed kind of weird now, didn't it? Unnerving. )
You're not a shithead. You-- oh. Okay. ( Matt smiles and ducks his head a little, he wasn't going to have to pine away. No alcohol and one night stands to scrub Peter away.
The way Peter touches his face is familiar, but it's not the same as when Matt tried to remember his father's face. It's not like the time Foggy let him feel his face to try and visualize him. No, this felt sad. Matt reaches up and curls fingers around Peter's wrist. ) It's all right.
( Peter usually likes looking at Matt's eyes, they're pretty. like the rest of him. Matt seems to be insecure about his eyes, for a bit when they first started Matt always would keep his glasses on, even if they just got in the way of Peter's desperate attempts to attack his face with his mouth. there's still enough connection in looking in his eyes that Peter can't manage to do it when he's uncomfortable, but Matt doesn't have to feel bad about it since Peter can't hardly look anybody in the eye when he's uncomfortable.
(his aunt knows this, and will hold his face in place to force him to. Matt has never bothered because he can't see, which is sort of a relief.)
peter lifts the wrist Matt has found and kisses the bruised knuckles he finds there. ) Mmm, you said I was yourself, you know. And you were right. ( it was shitty to shut down, it was shitty to push him away, it was shitty to ghost him three days like both of them would just magically stop caring and he could go back to his pretend world of detachment. ) I broke up with Gwen like 17 times trying to keep up with a promise I made to her dead dad. She hated it, the last time she broke up with me. You'd think I'd have learned, but... sometimes it's like I don't know anything, now that she's gone. She was the smart one, believe it or not.
( it's super new, to be able to talk about Gwen without crying. it's not exactly good, but maybe it's better than stuffing all the memories back and trying to avoid ever thinking about them. )
DID U SEE DEFENDERS? SHOULD I LEAVE OUT SPOILERS? CAPS LOCK!
( Matt quickly considers something. Should he mention Elektra? He doesn't want to take away from what Peter has, but maybe sharing something like that would help. Their circumstances are certainly different, but they do both have a dead girlfriend. )
You can't stop some things, Peter. You have to let them happen. They tell me things happen for a reason, but I know that's a shitty thing to say in reference to someone dying. I loved a woman named Elektra. She was killed in my arms by ... ninjas, of all things.
( He kisses him again, as if trying to shut himself up. Matt threads his fingers through Peter's ridiculous hair and smiles to himself. It's a secret smile. )
( Peter can't stand the saying things happen for a reason. he doesn't want to believe that's true, that Gwen Stacy had to die for any reason at all. she should have lived, she was the best and the brightest and the most beautiful thing Peter has ever known. there is no reason valid, no reason Peter could ever accept that makes her death make sense.
also, if you get down to it, he's the reason it happened. he also doesn't like that reminder. )
I'm sorry, ( Peter mutters, scrubbing a thumb near Matt's ear, at the dark line of a sideburn that seems absurdly well maintained for a guy that can't see. ) I know saying that is completely pointless and it doesn't help. But I am sorry.
Edited (hit enter too fast) 2019-08-06 04:06 (UTC)
She came back to life. Which makes me wonder if my religion is completely stupid. First it says she should have died, that's what God wanted, and then it says no, no, we want her back. Only she's evil now. Or she was...
( She might be gone for good now. Even if Matt survived the goddamn building falling on him.
Matt leans his head to the side, right where Peter is touching. It's one of his dog-like head tilts, but this time it's to get more of Peter's hand on his face. )
I'm sorry too. But at least we found each other. We can share our solitude. These double lives that feel like half lives. ( He scoffs. ) We should quit. ( They both know he'd never do anything like that. ) Go to Europe.
( back to... life??? what? ? ? ? ? there's so much more of a story there, and while part of Peter wants to ask, the rest of him knows that's not something you pry for details about. if Matt is anything like him, he needs to provide details on his own time. Peter knows how much it hurts to have them dragged out of you.
Evil? man, it'd be pretty awkward if all Peter's "people who hate me will hurt you" panic turned out to be pointless because now that Elektra was the Black Sky, that could maybe be a problem if she ever wanted to throw down over Matt Murdock. thank goodness she's off doing Black Sky things and not stalking Matt's new love interests... . .. . . . . )
Yeah. I think there's less of me left, now. ( of Peter Parker, he means. more and more and more, Spider-Man seems to take over. like bits and pieces and parts of him have died along with the people he's lost. Peter's actually agreed to travel once, for Gwen. he'd probably do it for Matt, too, but they'd both end up back in their city eventually. ) Just not London. ( sorry, Matt, that one can't happen... and considering their night, Matt can probably guess why. )
It does feel like that. That we're more one part of us than the other... ( What an observation, Pete. Matt looks a little sad, and clings closer to Peter. ) No London. Actually... let's just stay in New York. Everything's better here.
( Matt leans forward once more and kisses Peter, like he can't stop himself. ) We'll go to Coney Island and I can baffle carnies.
Edited (got threads confused, just woke up) 2019-08-07 11:22 (UTC)
( yeah, it's sad. under all the nerves and anxiousness and weird millennial lingo, Peter is pretty sad. sadder than you'd guess of a gangly nerd. it doesn't come out that often, though; and thankfully Matt usually makes Peter happy more than the alternative.
Peter is a good New Yorker, born and raised. he loves his city and has never wanted to move anywhere else, beyond London with Gwen. he's tired enough of supering that he'd consider a short vacation, though. what would the city do if Spider-Man was in Hawaii?? they might have to figure out one day. (but not today.)
Matt is really stuck on Coney Island, huh? Peter laughs, pairs it with a kiss of his own, and then leans back. he should probably crawl off of Matt's lap at some point tonight, he seems like he's considering now. ) Yeah, okay. Coney Island. Let's do it.
( Matt gives Peter a small smile and then gives him a good hard pat on the thigh. )
Okay, you apologized. And I'm sorry too, I shouldn't push you. But you gotta get out of here, or strip and sleep next to me, because I have a deposition in the morning.
( He knew Peter couldn't be with him all the time. He knew Peter couldn't sleep next to him in his underwear and not touch Matt. Matt knew a lot of things, but he ignored it all. )
This weekend, we'll go to Coney Island and you can pick out the ugliest horse for me to ride on the carousel.
( usually when Peter stays the night, it’s either because they’ve had sex or Matt has had one of those sort of nights. he seems to crave company most when he’s hurt and Peter has yet to manage to refuse him. or really to want to go anywhere, truthfully. staying just to sleep feels kind of intimate, but — with the word l - o - v - e floating around between them, you couldn’t get much more intimate than that right? )
I can sleep in my clothes. ( he legit does it all the time, sometimes whilst stuck to a wall. it isn’t that big a deal. he’s finally found the willpower to slink off of Matt and onto the couch proper, and he worries a lip about his impeccable timing. ) Sorry. I guess I’d know that if I hadn’t been ghosting you for three days.
( his guilt is obvious in his tone, though he doesn’t break into another string of sorries. if Matt rubs it in, he might. as far as the carousel, he has bad news. ) Matt, I’m telling you this because you are blind and I guess you don’t know. All the horses are haunted levels of horrifying, asking me to pick the worst one is like asking me to pick the wettest ocean.
Peter... ( Matt won't rub it in, he'd rather scold Peter for basically stating the obvious in a guilty tone. He rises up off the couch and heads to move the divider between the living room and bedroom. )
Then point me in the direction of the most beautiful horse. The lesser of evils.
( He nods his head backwards. ) Let's go to sleep now so we can wake up early and have sex.
That's equally impossible as the last thing. I don't think you are comprehending how creepy these things are.
( seriously, their ghostly eyes and snarling faces have to give small children nightmares. Matt might be lucky to be blind, for literally the first and only time in his life, if he wants to go on the Coney Carousel.
despite everything, Peter manages to blush at the mention of morning sex. he's slowly getting a little more brave about intimacy and working up to speaking about his wants plainly and without stammering, yet the bald mention of it does set off his mostly subdued flighty virgin senses. ) I don't see how that would make your deposition easier.
( not that he'd protest rolling into Matt in the morning and taking advantage of him being immediately there, just... he doesn't want to be responsible for a bad day in court, that's not a crime! )
( Matt laughs, a little loudly. God, he gets a kick out of Peter. ) I've seen the horses before, Peter, I was nine. Dad took me out a few times. Took the Q train. ( The fact of what line in the subway took came out because he thought it. And someone he loved was before him, so he spat out that thought. )
It would make my deposition easier because I would be -- well, I'd be relaxed! ( He stands before the bed now, and very gingerly curled into a spot that gave up half the bed. Matt was being like a generous cat. )
( Peter wonders what it's like, to remember the world in bits and pieces. how does Matt keep those memories so clear, after so many years? he wants to ask, but especially tonight it might feel too much like prying. he decides to keep it simple instead, by continuing to dunk on the poor Coney Carousel. )
Take your already horrifying mental image and add a few decades of wear and tear and we're getting ballpark of how bad these things are.
( is it just him that thinks it's weird, to crawl into Matt's bed when they're not tearing each other's clothes off? probably, Peter seems to be the only one of the two of them that notices how weird things are. he pauses, waffling on whether he wants to lose it and decides he does, dragging off his sweatshirt before he climbs in after Matt, and while he does enter the far side he doesn't exactly stay there. if Matt is a generous cat, Peter is the demanding and needy one, needing to be so close it's practically on top of you. they're not having sex but surely a cuddle is fine. )
Relaxed, or late? ( it sounds like a disaster in the making, though Peter has notedly not refuted the idea at any point. he's just pointing out the potential flaws of the plan, that's all. )
(Matt smiles sleepily, holding his arms out for Peter's body. He's so thin and tightly coiled, like a spring. Matt thinks he has control over his body, but Peter-- Peter is so much better than Matt. Peter has powers. Matt is just some squishy human that happens to hear heartbeats. He doesn't let this get him down right now, because, well, Peter is in his arms. He tucks his chin over Peter's head.)
I'm always late. But if we wake up earlier. Early enough that it could be slow.
( Matthew Michael Murdock, don't even go there — Peter would not appreciate the insinuation he's somehow better just for the fact a spider bit him that one time. he doesn't look on his powers with extreme fondness, he most certainly doesn't feel like a better person for them. if anything they make him a worse one, because Peter feels obligated to be Spider-Man first and Peter Parker second.
he's distinctly Peter Parker at the moment, as he curls close into the embrace and does his own creepy heartbeat listening. it's hard not to, when Matt's is straight under his ear. )
I thought the idea was get as much sleep as possible. ( it's mumbled against Matt's chest, though there's amusement in the rebuke. it's halfhearted at best.
Matt is likely nearly asleep by the time Peter asks, ) Can you say that thing you said, again? On the couch. ( not the angel thing, but, the i love you thing, specifically. )
(Matt knows he can have a comfortable silence with Peter. He starts to let it lull into that, maybe sleep will overtake him-- then Peter asks. Matt smiles softly, lips just barely twitching into a curl.)
( he probably could have left it alone. he probably could have asked in the morning, if he really had to hear it again. but hearing it now is better, somehow. (he'll probably ask again tomorrow, anyway.)
he smiles into Matt's skin, savoring the way it sounds — Matt's heartbeat does this weird little flip when he says it. Peter wonders if it'll always be like that. )
I love you too. ( in case Matt forgot, in like the twenty minutes that have passed. with that he will let the silence grow until they both fall asleep. and whether they wake up late or wake up early he's still going to try and get Matt to say it again in the morning. )
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it takes him a minute, running calloused fingertips over the stubble on Matt’s jaw, taking him in and trying to memorize every piece of him. because maybe it really was inevitable that he’d lose him and if that was the case Peter has lost too many people not to cling onto every new memory he can get his hands on. )
I’m sorry I was a shithead, ( Peter mumbles, eyes wandering because despite the fact Matt is blind, Peter hates looking people in the eye when he has to say something uncomfortable. ) I love you too, you know? That’s the scariest part.
( loving means having something to lose. putting a name on things made them too real, and reminded him too much of what he lost. it had been easier to panic and recoil and if he weren’t in so very deep, maybe he’d have been able to stay away. but just ask Gwen Stacy how good Peter was at truly leaving behind someone he loves. )
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You're not a shithead. You-- oh. Okay. ( Matt smiles and ducks his head a little, he wasn't going to have to pine away. No alcohol and one night stands to scrub Peter away.
The way Peter touches his face is familiar, but it's not the same as when Matt tried to remember his father's face. It's not like the time Foggy let him feel his face to try and visualize him. No, this felt sad. Matt reaches up and curls fingers around Peter's wrist. ) It's all right.
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(his aunt knows this, and will hold his face in place to force him to. Matt has never bothered because he can't see, which is sort of a relief.)
peter lifts the wrist Matt has found and kisses the bruised knuckles he finds there. ) Mmm, you said I was yourself, you know. And you were right. ( it was shitty to shut down, it was shitty to push him away, it was shitty to ghost him three days like both of them would just magically stop caring and he could go back to his pretend world of detachment. ) I broke up with Gwen like 17 times trying to keep up with a promise I made to her dead dad. She hated it, the last time she broke up with me. You'd think I'd have learned, but... sometimes it's like I don't know anything, now that she's gone. She was the smart one, believe it or not.
( it's super new, to be able to talk about Gwen without crying. it's not exactly good, but maybe it's better than stuffing all the memories back and trying to avoid ever thinking about them. )
DID U SEE DEFENDERS? SHOULD I LEAVE OUT SPOILERS? CAPS LOCK!
You can't stop some things, Peter. You have to let them happen. They tell me things happen for a reason, but I know that's a shitty thing to say in reference to someone dying. I loved a woman named Elektra. She was killed in my arms by ... ninjas, of all things.
( He kisses him again, as if trying to shut himself up. Matt threads his fingers through Peter's ridiculous hair and smiles to himself. It's a secret smile. )
yes i have seen defenders!!
also, if you get down to it, he's the reason it happened. he also doesn't like that reminder. )
I'm sorry, ( Peter mutters, scrubbing a thumb near Matt's ear, at the dark line of a sideburn that seems absurdly well maintained for a guy that can't see. ) I know saying that is completely pointless and it doesn't help. But I am sorry.
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( She might be gone for good now. Even if Matt survived the goddamn building falling on him.
Matt leans his head to the side, right where Peter is touching. It's one of his dog-like head tilts, but this time it's to get more of Peter's hand on his face. )
I'm sorry too. But at least we found each other. We can share our solitude. These double lives that feel like half lives. ( He scoffs. ) We should quit. ( They both know he'd never do anything like that. ) Go to Europe.
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Evil? man, it'd be pretty awkward if all Peter's "people who hate me will hurt you" panic turned out to be pointless because now that Elektra was the Black Sky, that could maybe be a problem if she ever wanted to throw down over Matt Murdock. thank goodness she's off doing Black Sky things and not stalking Matt's new love interests... . .. . . . . )
Yeah. I think there's less of me left, now. ( of Peter Parker, he means. more and more and more, Spider-Man seems to take over. like bits and pieces and parts of him have died along with the people he's lost. Peter's actually agreed to travel once, for Gwen. he'd probably do it for Matt, too, but they'd both end up back in their city eventually. ) Just not London. ( sorry, Matt, that one can't happen... and considering their night, Matt can probably guess why. )
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( Matt leans forward once more and kisses Peter, like he can't stop himself. ) We'll go to Coney Island and I can baffle carnies.
no worries
Peter is a good New Yorker, born and raised. he loves his city and has never wanted to move anywhere else, beyond London with Gwen. he's tired enough of supering that he'd consider a short vacation, though. what would the city do if Spider-Man was in Hawaii?? they might have to figure out one day. (but not today.)
Matt is really stuck on Coney Island, huh? Peter laughs, pairs it with a kiss of his own, and then leans back. he should probably crawl off of Matt's lap at some point tonight, he seems like he's considering now. ) Yeah, okay. Coney Island. Let's do it.
Re: no worries
Okay, you apologized. And I'm sorry too, I shouldn't push you. But you gotta get out of here, or strip and sleep next to me, because I have a deposition in the morning.
( He knew Peter couldn't be with him all the time. He knew Peter couldn't sleep next to him in his underwear and not touch Matt. Matt knew a lot of things, but he ignored it all. )
This weekend, we'll go to Coney Island and you can pick out the ugliest horse for me to ride on the carousel.
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I can sleep in my clothes. ( he legit does it all the time, sometimes whilst stuck to a wall. it isn’t that big a deal. he’s finally found the willpower to slink off of Matt and onto the couch proper, and he worries a lip about his impeccable timing. ) Sorry. I guess I’d know that if I hadn’t been ghosting you for three days.
( his guilt is obvious in his tone, though he doesn’t break into another string of sorries. if Matt rubs it in, he might. as far as the carousel, he has bad news. ) Matt, I’m telling you this because you are blind and I guess you don’t know. All the horses are haunted levels of horrifying, asking me to pick the worst one is like asking me to pick the wettest ocean.
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Then point me in the direction of the most beautiful horse. The lesser of evils.
( He nods his head backwards. ) Let's go to sleep now so we can wake up early and have sex.
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( seriously, their ghostly eyes and snarling faces have to give small children nightmares. Matt might be lucky to be blind, for literally the first and only time in his life, if he wants to go on the Coney Carousel.
despite everything, Peter manages to blush at the mention of morning sex. he's slowly getting a little more brave about intimacy and working up to speaking about his wants plainly and without stammering, yet the bald mention of it does set off his mostly subdued flighty virgin senses. ) I don't see how that would make your deposition easier.
( not that he'd protest rolling into Matt in the morning and taking advantage of him being immediately there, just... he doesn't want to be responsible for a bad day in court, that's not a crime! )
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It would make my deposition easier because I would be -- well, I'd be relaxed! ( He stands before the bed now, and very gingerly curled into a spot that gave up half the bed. Matt was being like a generous cat. )
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Take your already horrifying mental image and add a few decades of wear and tear and we're getting ballpark of how bad these things are.
( is it just him that thinks it's weird, to crawl into Matt's bed when they're not tearing each other's clothes off? probably, Peter seems to be the only one of the two of them that notices how weird things are. he pauses, waffling on whether he wants to lose it and decides he does, dragging off his sweatshirt before he climbs in after Matt, and while he does enter the far side he doesn't exactly stay there. if Matt is a generous cat, Peter is the demanding and needy one, needing to be so close it's practically on top of you. they're not having sex but surely a cuddle is fine. )
Relaxed, or late? ( it sounds like a disaster in the making, though Peter has notedly not refuted the idea at any point. he's just pointing out the potential flaws of the plan, that's all. )
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I'm always late. But if we wake up earlier. Early enough that it could be slow.
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he's distinctly Peter Parker at the moment, as he curls close into the embrace and does his own creepy heartbeat listening. it's hard not to, when Matt's is straight under his ear. )
I thought the idea was get as much sleep as possible. ( it's mumbled against Matt's chest, though there's amusement in the rebuke. it's halfhearted at best.
Matt is likely nearly asleep by the time Peter asks, ) Can you say that thing you said, again? On the couch. ( not the angel thing, but, the i love you thing, specifically. )
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I love you, Peter.
wraps disssss
he smiles into Matt's skin, savoring the way it sounds — Matt's heartbeat does this weird little flip when he says it. Peter wonders if it'll always be like that. )
I love you too. ( in case Matt forgot, in like the twenty minutes that have passed. with that he will let the silence grow until they both fall asleep. and whether they wake up late or wake up early he's still going to try and get Matt to say it again in the morning. )