Matt hadn't seen Peter in a couple of days.
He wasn't sure if it was an accident, or if Peter was avoiding him. He wasn't sure where they stood any more. After that incident at the school, they hadn't really spoken too much. Peter had ended up staying longer than he'd meant to at the school--to talk to the principal. It seemed that he'd caused Peter quite a bit of trouble, showing up and kissing him like that.
Matt felt bad, but he didn't regret it. And now, he was left in the cold. Wondering. Maybe Peter had gotten into some kind of trouble, maybe he'd gotten busy. Maybe he just hadn't had time. It was hard to tell, when Peter wouldn't come around.
He was embarrassed to say that he actually waited at night. Hoping Peter was swing by. So he listened to the window--and was startled when someone knocked on his door.
Peter's heartbeat, mostly even but not entirely at ease. Like he'd had a stressful day and it hadn't quite been shaken off. The scent of chalk dust and cheap soap drifted through the cracks in the door, mingling with that smell that so clearly said 'I'm Peter Parker'. Matt actually stood there for a moment, breathing it in and resting his head against the door.
When he finally opened it with a, "Hey", Peter didn't answer, moving in too fast for Matt to really back out of his way. He felt the air shift before Peter touched his face, cradled the back of his neck, kissing him solidly on the mouth and pushing the door closed behind him.
Pulling back, Peter nuzzled him, and Matt could feel Peter's eyelashes against his skin as he closed his eyes and breathed, "Hi."
"I thought you were ignoring me." Matt brushed his lips across Peter's cheek, pausing where the skin seemed more tender. "What happened?"
Peter pulled back, gently fingering his cheek. "Oh. Got smacked in the face. --Actually, it's funny, my boss asked me what happened this morning, too. He thinks you're smacking me around." Peter snorted, and Matt could hear practically hear him grinning.
"Did he really say that?"
"Basically."
From there, they drifted into uncomfortable silence, before Matt moved away from the door, back to the couch. "You can sit, if you want." Even as Matt sank down onto the couch, he could hear Peter kicking off his shoes and crawling onto the arm on the other end of the couch.
...Okay. Awkward.
"So--"
"That hurt, by the way," Peter interrupted. "When we ... you know. That hurt. ...Physically."
"...Oh." Well, no. Matt had known that. Matt ... had slept with men before Peter. He knew how it went. He just hadn't thought about it at the time and didn't want to bring it up. "Sorry."
"S'okay."
"...It's not always like that," Matt added after a moment or two. "It's not supposed to be. We were just--"
"--in a rush."
"Exactly." Strange, that Peter could waltz in and kiss him like that--and then hide on the other side of the couch like they're avoiding each other. His heart was beating a little too fast, nervous now. Like he'd run out of ideas. Like that kiss had been his idea.
The silence stretched again, though Matt would swear he heard Peter open his mouth more than once, just before shifting his weight on the couch's arm. And then, without a word, Peter sank down onto the couch cushion, wrapping his arms around his legs. Matt had yet to hear Peter sitting like a normal human being; he was always curled up or crouching on something, and was more likely to crawl up the wall when agitated. With nothing to talk about, Matt ended up focusing in on Peter's body movements, the slight shift of his jeans against the fabric of his shirt (cotton, from the smell of it), rubbing the spandex of the suit underneath his clothes. The way Peter reached up, sliding his fingers up his nose like he expected to push up a pair of glasses, continuing the movement when he realized he wasn't wearing them and running his fingers through his hair instead. He ran his tongue over the bottom of his front teeth when he was thinking, habitually pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I am so tired," Peter admitted. Like that explained his lack of inane, silence-filling chatter. It would kill him to admit he was too nervous to talk, though his heartbeat gave him away. Peter must have forgotten Matt could hear it.
Matt reached over, using his radar sense to hone in on Peter's exact location, listening to the beat of his own heart for the outline before brushing back Peter's hair. From the feel of it, he hadn't washed it in a day or so and still had chalk dust from his day at work in it. He nudged, just once, in his direction.
And was surprised when Peter actually leaned down and rested his head in Matt's lap, still holding his legs to his chest with one arm and laying the other across Matt's knees. Matt hesitated for a moment out of shock before smoothing Peter's hair back, content to just idly run his fingers through it before reaching for the remote.
With the news on a low hum, Matt was content just to listen to Peter's heartbeat, trying again and again to ask him one small question: What are we?
He was close. Painfully close. Mouth open, breath taken in iclose, listening carefully to Peter's breathing when he realized Peter was ... sleeping.
