( it isn't possible for Peter to not expect things, and he feels it coming, fast enough that he stiffens. only long enough to force his hackles to lower — thing about super senses built to protect you, they didn't always know what wasn't a threat. his brain is overworked and his head and heart are just about equally exhausted, despite the fact he isn't the one who could have died tonight. his body is just overloaded enough that it couldn't factor in the possibility Matt would try to kiss him, despite the fact they've kissed now more times than he could probably count.
it's not much like the kisses of before. it's stained metallic, the blood a reminder of how messed up Matt still was, despite Peter's best efforts. it's not happy or playful or teasing, it's practically heartbreaking. Peter's instinct when Matt kisses him is to touch him and his hands string with his refusal to do so. it's not a matter of not wanting to, it's a matter of not knowing how to without hurting more than helping.
I don't deserve you. the words burn like he's a vampire waltzing through the vatican. Matt sees him as something he's not, something good, something better. that doesn't mean it's true, as much as Peter might like it to be. he's not something Matt doesn't deserve, in fact, maybe Matt is the one who deserves better. someone who will tell him when he isn't alone, someone who isn't so terrified of how he feels that he does all he can to avoid it, even if it self destructs every relationship he has. maybe Matt deserves someone who isn't already guilty of the worst crime a human can commit, and worse yet one so selfish and desperate that he won't tell someone that surely deserves to know. )
That's not true, ( Peter mutters, voice a little cracked. Matt can hear a lie, but there's none to be found here; Peter genuinely believes that, though good luck getting him to explain why. if Matt was verging on emotion before, Peter is probably more than verging. can he use the stress of the night as an excuse? probably, actually. walking in on your not-quite-boyfriend bleeding to death is pretty stressful. ) I need you to be okay, so please. Please. You have to rest.
no subject
it's not much like the kisses of before. it's stained metallic, the blood a reminder of how messed up Matt still was, despite Peter's best efforts. it's not happy or playful or teasing, it's practically heartbreaking. Peter's instinct when Matt kisses him is to touch him and his hands string with his refusal to do so. it's not a matter of not wanting to, it's a matter of not knowing how to without hurting more than helping.
I don't deserve you. the words burn like he's a vampire waltzing through the vatican. Matt sees him as something he's not, something good, something better. that doesn't mean it's true, as much as Peter might like it to be. he's not something Matt doesn't deserve, in fact, maybe Matt is the one who deserves better. someone who will tell him when he isn't alone, someone who isn't so terrified of how he feels that he does all he can to avoid it, even if it self destructs every relationship he has. maybe Matt deserves someone who isn't already guilty of the worst crime a human can commit, and worse yet one so selfish and desperate that he won't tell someone that surely deserves to know. )
That's not true, ( Peter mutters, voice a little cracked. Matt can hear a lie, but there's none to be found here; Peter genuinely believes that, though good luck getting him to explain why. if Matt was verging on emotion before, Peter is probably more than verging. can he use the stress of the night as an excuse? probably, actually. walking in on your not-quite-boyfriend bleeding to death is pretty stressful. ) I need you to be okay, so please. Please. You have to rest.