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It’s in between his divorce and potential remarriage, in the gray areas between rekindling old flames and #Single life, that Peter first finds his tongue sliding into the mouth of Miguel O’Hara.
He’s not really sure when their special meetings started or why… just that they did, he likes them, and he’s pretty sure Miguel likes them, too.
Maybe like is too immature a term, as they both are grown men. Or maybe it’s too innocent a word, because there’s nothing really sweet or tender about these impromptu rendezvous. Though Peter’s known to talk the ears right off folks, Miguel wants nothing to do with his words, and they’re lost in a tangle of tongues before much can really be said.
It’s most likely that Miguel just wants to shut Peter up, but there’s something in the desperate way the younger man grabs him that hints at something else - a distinct, deep anguish that Peter never really stopped to see. Miguel’s been surrounded by Spider-Men for ages, longer than any of them at HQ, and still manages to isolate himself.
Encircled by visages just like him, Miguel is completely alone - and there’s something very sad in that irony.
So, Peter figures the least he can do is be gentler with Miguel than the man is with himself. If he gets a few harsh words or growls thrown his way for stopping midway to check-in with his kissing partner, then so be it.
There is a cue to tell whether Peter and Miguel, upon meeting up on any particular day, will be doing surveillance or fooling around: Miguel will blink slowly, like a weird cat showing affection, and his hand will rest across Peter’s chest before guiding him away from any prying spider-eyes.
Peter’s glad for the indication, because it’s always a gamble with Miguel. The guy’s so serious, it’s hard to tell when he wants to stop and enjoy himself, enjoy Peter taking care of him. And they never speak a word to hint at their secret, to anyone.
(Peter’s kind of afraid to, anyway - much as Miguel is attractive, he is also very scary.)
Miguel does let himself get lost in the moment when they’re together, letting his walls come down briefly to explore what he can of Peter. His fingers will clamp onto Peter’s wrists, pin him to floors and ceilings - and once suspended in mid-air hanging only by their webs! Their lips and tongues will almost violently crash together, and Miguel’s contented, low groans sound beautiful in the midst of their ragged panting. Sometimes he bites, the fangs appearing on especially stressful days, shredding Peter’s mouth by the end of it all.
And actually, though it hurts, Peter's kind of fond of the bites - it means the other man isn’t holding back, and shows what makes Miguel, Miguel. Yeah, the taste of copper can get old, and it’s hard to get the bleeding to stop at times, but…
Well, like Peter always says: “You can’t be Spider-Man without an itty-bit of masochistic tendencies!”
(He definitely said that once.)
“Hey,” Peter huffs one day, breaking apart prematurely and looking into Miguel’s eyes. There’s the usual hunger in that dark gaze, a bone-deep need that they both tend to feel in the midst of things. And of course, there’s that familiar sadness, the glimpse of heartache that’s been so strangled and beaten down, it’s utterly quiet and dormant now.
But it’s there, and Peter sees it.
He’s always seen it, always felt it, even before they decided to spend this time together. It’s something Peter feels too, when he thinks of the life he’d had before he’d fucked it all up. Before Miles, before he discovered other universes, before Miguel.
It’s there when he thinks of the life he had with MJ.
He misses her, always, and he can tell that Miguel misses someone, too. They're both aware this isn’t meant to go anywhere further than it’s been.
It doesn’t stop him from leaning into Miguel softly, whispering, “Do you want to talk?”
Miguel’s brows briefly scrunch down in confusion, and after a moment he finds his voice. “Is this your way of telling me to stop?”
Immediately, Peter shakes his head and begins to ramble. “No, no - if this is what you need, by all means! I don’t mind. I like this, I do - I just, I want to make sure you don’t need someone to talk to. Maybe that’s what this all implies, I mean - shit, I don’t know what I’m saying. You just…”
You always look like you need to talk to someone.
He doesn’t really want to say it, because he knows Miguel will be angry. It’s happened before; on perhaps their second “meeting”, Peter asked if Miguel ever thought about finding or creating another family someday. It shouldn't have even been brought up in the first place, just an idle question in that cooldown period before they both went on their way. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that maybe, even unconsciously, he was trying to help Miguel then, too.
But he'd only dragged Miguel’s grief into the light, and subsequently was met with rejection. Miguel fought against his efforts, shutting down and pushing away from Peter for at least a month afterwards. It took some gentle coaxing (and avoidance of any personal questions whatsoever) to even get Miguel to talk to him again.
But they couldn’t really stay away from each other much longer than that. Miguel, much as he probably doesn’t want to admit it, needs this, too.
It frightens Peter a bit to ask things again - not because he’s afraid of not getting anymore makeout sessions, but because he’s afraid of where Miguel will go if he closes up again. If Miguel constantly rejects any kind of emotional intimacy or familiarity, he’s going to lose himself further.
Miguel breaks off Peter’s thoughts with a deep sigh and a mumble in Spanish. The man’s clawed fingers brush against Peter’s cheek, and there’s another flash of that unspeakable sorrow in his gaze that, for once, stuns Peter to silence.
“I don’t want to talk, and I don’t need to do this,” Miguel murmurs, sounding tired. “I can only take so much of you at a time, Parker - but you always manage to show up again.”
“Aw, I’m blushing,” Peter chuckles, not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. Knowing Miguel, he probably tried for the former, but it ended up sounding like the latter.
Miguel is still stone-faced, but there's a hint of something warm in his eyes. “No matter what we’re doing, the only thing I need from you is that… stability.”
There’s just something so earnest about his words, it breaks Peter’s heart - like Miguel hasn’t come to know that sort of… consistency with anyone else in his life. And, hell, he probably hasn’t.
In a rare moment of uncertainty, Peter leans forward and wraps his arms tightly around Miguel, burying his face in the younger man’s shoulder. Kissing or not, friends or more, Peter also wants the two of them to continue being in each other’s lives. Despite Miguel’s chronic grumpiness, Peter can clearly see the kind heart in the man that he’s tried so hard to bury.
(Miguel’s a Spider-Man for a reason, and Peter’s of the firm belief that all versions, across all the universes, are good people.)
Still, it’s a slippery slope to supervillain-dom, and Miguel may become lost if someone’s not around to watch his back. Good thing Peter has no intentions of disappearing, even if things end up getting patched up with MJ in the future.
“You can’t go anywhere either, then,” Peter says, a gentle smile crossing his face. Though sentimental isn’t their style when they kiss, he can’t help but give Miguel a gentle peck on the forehead. “Okay?”
Miguel immediately scowls at the notion - but too bad, so sad. Peter’s relishing in this sweet moment for as long as he can.
“Fine,” Miguel snaps, sounding more like himself again. “Just shut up.”
Aaaand sweet moment over, Peter thinks, as he finds himself getting entangled in Miguel’s arms and mouth again.
That’s fine, though - Peter will continue to be the support Miguel needs, for as long as he is needed, and vice versa. Together they can continue to ignore any harrowing emotions when they’re lost in each other.
And hey, maybe someday, there’ll be healthier outlets, or actual canon events for them to grow from. But for now, the roles they play in each other’s lives are set and stable, and that seems to be more than enough.
Peter’s mouth gets nicked by a fang and, suppressing a yelp, he finds himself leaning into the feeling. He should pull back, but instead he focuses on that continued stinging, savoring it as long as he can.
It is, after all, a promise that Miguel’s still here - and like the biting pain, he, too, will linger.