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Chapter Text

It only took, at this point, one look at Miguel and how he interacted with the others for Peter B Parker to realize that he needed another pseudo-scene. This thing that they had been doing, somewhat nameless and almost fully an improvisation on Peter's part, actually seemed to help the tense man to let go of some of his aggression. He was in the middle of hissing orders through his screen when the other spiderman rested his hands on his shoulders and gently turned him around.

They exchanged looks, Miguel's seeming to be resistant for a moment before Peter's sterner eyebrows made him relent. 

"Let me take care of you, Miggy," the spider pressed, watching his leader's expression with bated breath.

"...fine." Miguel frowned lightly, eyes narrowed on the man's smile.

He settled on his knees before Peter with an exhausted sigh, the tension draining from broad shoulders and leaving residual tremors running through Miguel's hands. Parker firmly rested a hand in the man's hair and felt his own pent-up energy dissipate. He wasn't sure how long they had been doing this, a few months earlier he wouldn't have dreamed that he'd have the leader of spider-society at his feet. But he knew when to enjoy a sweet moment and right then it couldn't be sweeter. 

Miguel leans forward and presses his forehead to Peter's thigh, letting his enhanced ears detect the man's steady pulse and feeling every shift of the spider's body. He let himself drift away from the intense anger and fear that dominated his mind and allowed his brain to float - if only for a minute or two. 

"That's it, you're doing great," Peter smiles down at him, feeling his own exhaustion reflected tenfold back at him through red-tinted eyes.

Humming lightly in response was the best he could do with the all too familiar fog in his head, the praise washing over Miguel like a tidal wave. 

They relished in the peace for a few moments, Peter lightly scratching at Miguel's scalp while the larger man tried hard not to collapse into a satisfied heap on the floor. His face was warm with appreciation at the constant soothing words from Parker, his walls collapsed like they had never been placed. Tears pricked at his eyes as the residual emotions rose to the surface. 

An alert sounded through the empty room, a few of the shining holographic screens around Miguel's desks lighting up. 

The tired leader lifted his head slightly at the sound only for Peter to push his face back into the soft fabric of his trouser-leg. Shushing his confused murmurs, Peter scanned through the alert and let out a stressed breath. 

It was a call for back-up from Jess and Gwen, who were out fighting a double-anomaly of two very confused and violent iterations of Doc Oc. He knew, frustratingly enough, that this was a serious call for assistance and yet he also knew for sure that Miguel was not ready to fight yet - having just been able to let go. He confirmed this with a glance to his feet where the usually towering man was curled over, eyes drifting half shut while his pupils gazed lazily up at him. Parker found himself swallowing tightly at the blind trust in his eyes.

Another alert is sent through, this time with the message " Quit brooding Miguel and get your butt over here - we need an experienced spider for backup right away! ". 

Peter groaned in annoyance, curling both hands in the man's hair before sliding them down to cup his sharp jaw and tilt O'Hara's face up towards him. He smoothed his thumbs over tan cheeks and clicked his tongue for Miguel's tired attention. 

"Listen, honey - are you listening?" He started, watching the man grimace slightly at the pet name before giving a gentle smile down at him. 

"I need to go help on a mission, right now. You aren't ready to fight, I'm sorry and I should have prepared better." Parker watched Miguel's face twist lightly in confusion, " so I'm going to be right back, and you're going to wait here for me with Lyla for company. Then when I get back I can look after you again, okay Mig?" 

He felt his own resolve crack when the first flickers of understanding crossed the other man's face, a subtle widening of his eyes accompanied by the resigned fall of his shoulders. Peter reminded himself that he'd be right back, already standing from O'Hara's office chair and gently taking the kneeling man's hand. 

"Come on, big guy. Come sit on your chair," he guided the spider up and let him land heavily in his chair, trying to avoid his lost eyes. 

Peter B checks his dimensional watch with a wince and tightens the dressing gown around his waist, a stray hand ending up back in Miguel's hair as the intense worry starts to build in his silence. This wasn't the sign of someone coming back up to reality that he could tell, more like the behavior of a person fully under the blanket of submission that seconds before had been Peter's only goal to achieve.

He programs the portal and lets it form before them, locking eyes with Miguel once more. The tired man looks back at him in resignation, hands once again shaking in his lap. Parker summons a confident smile.

"I'll be right back," he reassures, before stepping through the swirling orange light and leaving the lab in darkness.

Four hours later Peter stumbled back to headquarters through a similar portal, roughly shaking ash from his hair with angry mutters. Gwen dragged her feet behind him, followed by a disgruntled Jess who pulled the two villains through the portal with a sharp tug on their webs. The fight had been tedious and panicked, with multiple occasions where Parker found himself missing the strict control and contained violence of Spiderman 2099. He gave a hurried goodbye to his teammates before speed walking down the hall, a singular man in mind.

When he reached the doors there was a noticeable pause, the mechanisms not opening the way they usually would. Huffing in frustration Peter knocked against their surface, waiting for them to open with impatient taps of his foot. Instead of being granted entrance there was another pause, and then the telltale sign of a hologram materialising. He sighed and turned to Lyla, meeting her scowl with widened eyes. 

"Come on, Lyla, I need to get inside like- right now!" he stressed. 

 She crosses her arms and stares him down. 

Peter rubs his eyes and groans, "I'm sorry I'm late, listen I will make this up to him as soon as I can - but right now I need to get through the door - okay?"

She seems to ponder his request, an exaggerated ellipse hovering over her head. He notices her somewhat ragged appearance with a wince, feeling more and more the guilt that had been building since he'd left Miguel's lab. The hesitation on Lyla's part wasn't unfamiliar, however the cause of said hesitation had his heart in his throat. 

"Okay, 616, but if I think something's going sideways-"

"Yeah! Yeah, you'll have me thrown from the building, I know. Please let me in?" 

She frowns at him again, glitching out of his vision just as the doors begin to slide open. 

He calls out a thanks before speeding into the dark, massive room, balefully looking up at the floating platform where it hovered 20 ft above where he stood. Without another second to doubt his approach, Peter shot a web at the platform and swung up to land less than gracefully beside the utilitarian desk. 

"Miguel? Mig? Anyone here?" He called out, his voice gentling naturally while he scanned the barren space. 

The large monitor screens were all blank, emitting a low orange light which brought out pitch black shadows, and the single office chair was empty. For a moment Peter's heart sank even more, but there was a buzz of spider senses as he went to turn around which had his head snapping back to the desk. After a second of confusion the spider crouched down to the floor and peered beneath the floating desks. 

Being met with the sight of Miguel O'Hara was both relieving and dreadfully sobering. The man was curled up tightly in the darkest space he could fit into, clawed hands pressed tightly against his head. Barely suppressed tremors caused his bruised shoulders to shake and Peter felt own breath stutter in sympathy. He crawled closer. 

"Hey, Miguel. It's me, sweetheart," he called out, reaching out a still-gloved hand to lightly brush his shoulder. 

Spiderman 2099 barely flinched at the contact, his claws digging precariously into his own skin. 

"I know you're probably not happy with me right now- or at least you won't be when you're more … you, but I'm gonna look after you. Okay ?" Parker gently gripped both of the man's arms and pulled them away from his hair.

Drawing in a sharp breath, Miguel glances up with squinted eyes. He met eyes with Peter and his clawed hands suddenly grabbed hold of the spider's arm, tight enough that he felt small pin pricks piercing through the sleeve fabric of his suit. 

"Hey man, I'm here, come on let's get off the floor," Peter B smiled at him, steadfastly ignoring the too-tight grip. 

He tugged lightly on his arm and started to scoot out from under the desk, Miguel following him closely while maintaining contact. After leaving the floor Peter stands and stretches, leaning down to help the quiet man to his feet and reaching out to steady him when he starts to sway. Quickly scanning the lab/lair setup that Miguel had led to the conclusion that there were no comfortable spaces nearby, much to Peter's frustration. He stepped into the larger man's space and felt strong arms wrap around him, Miguel leaning down to bury his face in his neck with a muffled sniff. 

They stood like this for a few minutes, Peter thinking of an action plan while Miguel attempted to ground himself. Unfortunately for the older spider, this had never happened before. Their encounters usually went more like Spider 2099 calming down at Peter's feet for an hour or so, followed by as much cuddling as he can manage before Miguel came back to himself.

The fact that they had been doing this routine long enough for something to go wrong had unknown feelings twisting in Peter's chest. He also knew with complete certainty that this screw up was his fault when, realistically, the man had assumed that Miguel would be the one to self sabotage the dynamic they had. Spiderman 2099 was many things but secure in relationships was not one of them. 

Deciding on an approach to take had Peter gently pulling away from the other man - but not too far - and leading him to the edge of the floating platform. 

"Okay, honey, we're gonna swing down and head to your room okay? I know I haven't been there before but I think a portal right now would do more harm than good, big guy." He caught Miguel's red eyes with a smile of what he hoped was reassurance. 

Miguel sniffed again and gave a small nod, his face exuding exhaustion from every pore. 

They managed to make it to Miguel's room and Peter couldn't help taking in the scenery. Geometric windows looked over Nueva York's skylines at all angles, a pristine bed sat at the centre of the painfully neat bedroom which was almost fully barren of personal items. Peter spied a small photo frame of Gabriella which made his heart ache, as well as some vials of Rapture tossed haphazardly on a cabinet. 

Miguel doesn't seem to have the same curiosity, heading straight to the bed and collapsing down onto the sheets with a groan. Following behind, Peter settled against the headboard and patted his chest until the tired spider lifted his head in that direction. 

"Come on, do you wanna cuddle, big guy? Have a bit of contact?" Peter asked cheerily, reaching out both hands and placing them on Miguel's shoulders. 

Snorting softly in agreement, Miguel dives forward and lands on top of Peter - the man let's put a quiet "oof" at the weight. After a moment of shuffling around Miguel was resting fully over the other Spiderman with his face still buried in the man's neck. The tremors that had wracked his frame were dying down, much to Peter's relief, and his clawed hands seemed noticeably blunter when they twist in Peter's robe. 

"This is great Migs, and I know you don't like serious conversations-" he clamps down a hand on Miguel's shoulder when it seems like he's making to move away "-but I really need to say some things!"

After a beat Miguel simmers back down, letting out a weary sigh which has Peter chuckling. 

"Okay, this thing we're doing right now? Great - I love it. I know it's taken a while to get to this point but really it's going so well, sweetheart. And I'm sorry, so sorry, for leaving you like that. You were supposed to trust me but I screwed that up." Peter explained shakily, peering worriedly down at Spiderman 2099 who remained silent for a moment. 

Miguel tightens his hold on Peter's torso, feeling his stomach pillow his own and letting the man's comforting breaths wash over him. He allows himself to think - the earlier panic having slipped away. 

"I -" he clears his throat, "I'd like not to be left… alone like that. Again.-"

Peter's already aggressively nodding his head, both hands reaching to cup Miguel's face.

"But I hadn't realised that that would happen ," Miguel continues, raising his eyebrows pointedly, " so neither did you. No es tu culpa. "

"Listen, I'm still prettyyy rusty with mí Espanol, so-"

The larger man growled, tapping Peter's chest with a heavy hand, " Not. Your. Fault."

Peter blinked at him, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Okay. Okay, that's good. We'll get it better next time, right?" He asked hopefully. 

Miguel peered over at him again and nodded, eyes beginning to droop.

"Next time."

Chapter Text

When Peter stepped through the portal and it closed behind him, Miguel thought he felt his heart wither in his chest. Nameless panic gripped his throat, unfamiliar emotions bubbling to the surface without his consent. He left you. He left you behind. He doesn't want to be around you. He left you. 

Something about his mind felt volatile and sharp, the spacey relaxing fog twisting into a painful headache accompanied by uncoordinated limbs and the same internal monologue. Peter doesn't want you . Miguel shakily stood from his chair only to sink down to the floor, pushing himself into a corner under the desk where even the soft orange light from monitors couldn't reach him. 

Through the darkness the spider's eyes adjusted well, and Miguel found himself pressing lightly on his claws and watching them sink back into his fingertips. His throat was tight with panic, tears stinging but not falling and fangs bared subconsciously.  After what felt like hours, Miguel whispers a question to Lyla.

"What time?" He mumbles into the darkness, flinching back when Lylas glowing figure pops into existence. 

She seems to take pity on him, noticeably dimming her glow and floating just off his foot from where it rested near his curled up form. 

"Hey Boss, it has been five minutes since Parker's departure," she announced.

Miguel groaned quietly, scrunching up his face and pressing his fingertips to his temples. 

"And he left because..?" 

"Peter B Parker has momentarily left to assist Drew and Stacy with a double-anomaly (very high risk). Would you like me to send a message, possibly swap out the teams?" Her chipper voice masks the words, the AI cutting him some slack in her own way.

He tucked his head into his knees and glared at nothing. Talking to Peter would be so needy , Miguel prided himself in his independence, the spider had said he'd be right back . He can wait for right back . Whatever was going on emotionally right now was his own problem, not Peter's. 

Lyla reappeared slightly larger in front of him.

"You know we have like two hundred members, right? Why don't I call him back and dispatch someone else?" She asked, a single holographic eyebrow raising.

"I'm not going to potentially put people in danger because I'm feeling out of sorts, Lyla. I'm fine!" He snapped, even as another swell of emotions threatened to bubble to the surface. "I can wait."

The next time the spider checked on the time was much later, his hologram's voice announcing that two hours had passed with a moment of hesitation. Miguel felt his stomach lurch, the thought of being forgotten growing to be suffocating. He's grown tired of me. Removing himself from beneath his desks was proving to be impossible - any stray light burnt the man's eyes while all the distant sounds of spider-people became overwhelming the further he was from his makeshift hideout. 

It had been something that Peter had pointed out once - that his sensory problems seemed to increase to unbearable levels when he was upset. The reasoning prompted Miguel to curl smaller, feeling the spider's stark absence like a punch to the chest. Everything was wrong . Disproportionately wrong in a way that had the man's head spinning trying to figure out how to bring himself back on his own. 

He wasn't sure it was possible.

"Do you think-" he cleared his throat, finding it had grown hoarse with disuse, "do you think he'll be back soon?" 

"The fight is still erratic on their end, Miguel. Would you like something to eat? Your energy levels are low." Lyla crouched beside his head, a small hand patting the air by his hair.  

"No." He buried his head back in his folded arms. 

The emotional turmoil felt unfamiliar in its nature, nothing like the roaring flames of grief or the general fatigue of his depression. This was a sharp hurt, centering around Peter like a tornado in his head. Miguel found himself intimidated by the ferocity of his loneliness, wondering if this was a codependence - if this was the reality of getting overly attached again. 

He ached for the man's strong hands on his shoulders, an ache that settled unbearably in his chest and ceased to let up. Peter B Parker had carved out a space in his chest and there was nothing else that could heal the gap but him. 

After the silence had dragged on for longer than the spider could keep track, when Miguel had closed up fully - unresponsive to Lyla's check-ins, the sound of doors sliding open echoed through the lab. He didn't lift his head, too focused on pressing his hands over his ears like it was the only thing preventing his skull from falling apart. The sudden commotion reverberated through his enhanced ears like a bullet.

Unexpectedly, a hand came into contact with his shoulder - causing the man to flinch back. He squinted, loosening his grip over his ears to hear the same voice he'd been dying to hear all day 

"I know you're probably not happy with me right now- or at least you won't be when you're more … you, but I'm gonna look after you. Okay ?" 

Reality was sinking into Miguel's thoughts, the identity of the voice becoming blissfully clear when he felt the same gloved hands close around his forearms and pull them away from his head. With far less dignity than he'd have liked he found himself grabbing desperately at Parker's arm, allowing him to coax him off of the floor with gentle words.

When he was vertical another wave of overwhelm washed over him, emotions tugging at his throat and driving him into Peter's arms with a hiccup of upset. He felt the spider hold him tightly in return and let himself relax into his grasp. 

After their journey to Miguel's room, as well as the stilted but heartfelt conversation, they both slept deeply until later the next day. 

Miguel found himself blinking awake to the feeling of his whole body aching. His eyes were weary and dry from crying the day before, and he still wore his spider-suit. Glancing over at the bed had him shooting upright, the empty spot where Peter should be left dreadfully empty. Before panic could fully grip him there was a loud clatter from the adjacent room, and then Peter B Parker in all his glory came stumbling through the doorway with two cups of coffee gripped in one hand and a small mountain of toast in the other. 

"The most breakfast-y thing you had was bread so we've got toast! Good morning," he announced with a grin, setting down his cups to lean over and plant a smiling kiss on Miguel's forehead - much to the younger man's annoyance.

"... Thanks. Morning," he replied, picking up a coffee and giving it a sniff. 

"Oh you are always so delightful in the mornings, Migs," the spider chuckled, a now free hand resting on Miguel's leg. 

The boss felt a strange pang in his chest at the jab, frowning down at his hands and drink. Peter watched his reaction with concern. 

"Hey, I did some reading-" Miguel scoffed, while Peter resolutely continued, "and I think you experienced 'sub-drop' yesterday because I left." 

He grimaced, a fang poking over his lip, "I'm not your submissive. I can live independently from you."

"Okay, ouch. But no, that's not what I'm saying. You were 'submitting' to me to get the endorphins or whatever, and then I left you high and dry. So your chemicals were all messed up, okay?" Peter reached over to cup Miguel's face and looked into deep crimson eyes, trying to ignore the rapidly flushing cheeks of the spider beneath his palms, "this is good, we know what happened and can work on it. Yeah?"

O'Hara leaned into his hold, letting his eyes slip shut. 

"Okay," he breathed, broad shoulders dropping, "but that doesn't mean you can treat me like I'm gonna break. ¿Entiendes? "

"Got it."

Peter leaned in to meet him and pressed a kiss to the man's cheek, then his nose and finally met his lips. Clumsily, Miguel placed his untouched coffee back on the nightstand and then clutched at Peter's torso. He pulled the man against him, hearing him let out a slight wheeze at the man-handling before twisting to get comfortable.

He found himself burying his face in the man's robe, sharp fingertips digging precariously into the fabric but not enough to prick skin. The gaping feeling in his chest had finally abated, the ache withered away overnight when he woke in his sleep and Peter was still beside him.

After a few calm minutes, Miguel's wrist-gizmo started to flash his morning alarm from the bedside table. He let it ring for a moment before climbing off of Peter with a groan, muttering to himself before turning it off abruptly. Turning back to Peter with an apology on his lips, the man was paused by Parker's raised hand in the air.

"It's okay, Migs, you've got work. Just - message me if you feel out of it, alright man?" The spider questioned, arching a brow threateningly. 

Miguel half smiled in return, mumbling an affirmation before heading to the door of his apartment - self consciously running his head through his hair and attempting to straighten it out. He stepped through the front door with a quiet goodbye, feeling almost content in the knowledge that Peter would come see him during the day.