Work Text:
“Mi amor! Let’s go!”
CRASH
“... What was that?!”
“Nothing! Do NOT come up here!”
Miguel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. It was 8:28 AM and they were already 30 minutes late to the start of his very detailed and very well thought out itinerary. If they left within the next 12 minutes they could maybe avoid the traffic that no doubt would be plaguing the Verrazano bridge today. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, clear skies, sunshine, and a promise of boiling hot temperatures consuming all of New York and the rest of the tristate area by noon. In other words, an obligatory beach day.
It was long overdue, Miguel had been putting in extra hours at his lab and had been dealing with helping newly hired postdocs get settled into their roles. Peter’s work as a photographer at the Bugle kept him equally busy, but at least he could do most of his work from the house while watching the girls. The days he needed to go into the office were daycare days for their daughters. The past few weeks had seen a lot of those with both men unusually occupied with their respective careers. Miguel was not fond of daycare days, he trusted very few people with his babies. It had taken Peter’s incessant begging and thorough background checks for him to finally relent.
Peter had chosen a nice enough looking beach all the way in southern New Jersey- a destination Miguel had agreed to when he was in too good of a mood. Nonetheless, regardless of the distance he promised himself he was going to try and have a nice, pleasant time with his family wherever they ended up. Key word: try.
He checked his watch for the 700th time that morning and felt a vein start to pulse furiously on his forehead. He looked down at May and Gabriella on the couch, thoroughly entertained by the television and blissfully unaware of the frenzied state of their household. The tension in his shoulders dissipated for a moment, and for a very lucid minute he considered leaving without Peter- just him and the girls, peacefully relaxing on the sand, ocean breeze on their skin-
“Found it!” After what felt like hours, Peter finally came stumbling down the stairs with an overstuffed baby bag on his shoulder and a green bottle in hand.
“What is that?” Miguel squinted at the cause of their delay in his husband’s hand.
“Aloe! For sunburns?” Peter shook the bottle in his fingers.
Miguel stared at him, barely repressing the urge to bonk him on the head, “…You know we could’ve just bought that if we really needed it.”
“Uh, and pay ridiculously expensive beach prices for something we already own? NUH uh.” Peter stuffed the aloe into an incredibly tight corner of the baby bag, “Oh and … we need a new lamp in our room…”
Miguel ran a hand down his face, if he had claws he would’ve ripped himself to shreds.
Peter put his hands up defensively, an apologetic smile on his face. “I was rushing! I was rummaging through those drawers so fast I accidentally knocked that thing over- and y’know what? If you ask me, it was kind of hideous anyway-”
“ Just ,” Miguel took the bag off Peter’s shoulder onto his own, “ grab the girls . The car seats are already set up and the rest of the stuff is already in the trunk. We’re late. ” He enunciated that last word with air from the very depths of his chest, almost sounding like a growl. He grabbed his car keys and turned off the TV before turning swiftly towards the front entrance.
Peter rolled his eyes as he smirked at the grumpy man’s retreating figure. Late? To the beach? It was so like him to be completely wound up on a vacation day. The photographer had his work cut out for him today, he had sworn to make sure his husband did not have an aneurysm by noon even if it was the last thing he ever did. It seemed he was already failing.
“Papa really needs to take a chill pill huh?”
He stared lovingly down at Mayday and Gabi as he adjusted their little sun hats. Both baby girls stared up at their dad curiously, eyes as big as saucers. Peter pinched each girl’s chubby cheek gently, causing Mayday to fuss and Gabi to giggle- so little and yet their unique personalities were already shining through. They looked so cute, but he knew if he stopped to take pictures of them he would never stop and Miguel would use the baby bag’s straps to restrain him and stuff him in the trunk. (Something he wouldn’t be that opposed to if he was honest). There would be plenty of time for photoshoots at their destination. One of the perks of being a professional photographer for one of the biggest newspaper publishers in the east coast was having easy access to expensive equipment, such as cameras and-
Oh crap his camera!
He raked his memory for its last known location, but the idea of being even one more millisecond “late” was suddenly impeding his ability to recall his own name. Peter whipped his head around the living room, opting to scan every inch of the house as fast as humanly possible before he heard angry footsteps approach the front door.
Miguel stuck his head through the entrance, full frown plastered on his face, “I told you everything is in the car, what are you doing?”
Peter turned to him and opened his arms like a starfish, “What about my camera!? I don’t remember packing it!”
The taller man screwed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose for what felt like the hundredth time that hour, “That’s because I did! It was the first thing I put in there because I knew you wouldn’t remember to!”
Peter gave him a blank stare and then his whole demeanor did a complete 180 as he clutched both hands to his chest, “Oh… Aw, babe! You know me so well! But you really should’ve told me I almost tore the entire house apart.”
Miguel stormed away back to their car with a sigh, grumbling under his breath, “ Este pendejo me va a matar…”
It’s been exactly 14 minutes since he last checked his watch, he resigned himself to the inevitable traffic they would have to endure adding a good hour to their total trip time. A good hour of diligent and thorough packing in preparation for this morning last night seemed in vain. He leaned his whole weight on the side of the car and felt a heart palpitation coming on- maybe he wouldn’t have to drive at all if he just dropped dead right here- but just then, Peter stepped out with their two babies in his arms and they were giggling at whatever silly face he had just made at them. Miguel’s stress immediately dissipated from his body, and the cause of it suddenly felt extremely stupid.
He watched as Pete kissed both of their plump cheeks as he held them close. There was a fondness in his eyes that reflected feelings that went so deep into his core, he couldn’t remember what the hell he was so stressed out about in the first place. Fuck traffic, it meant more time in the car with his family.
With a tender warmth in his chest, he helped Peter settle the girls into their respective car seats.
They were just 30 minutes into their drive, and Miguel was just about ready to hurl the steering wheel out the window onto the highway- possibly alongside himself. The trip from their home in Queens to Staten Island had been relatively smooth, but as they neared the border to New Jersey, the whole route indicator on the GPS turned bright red along with Miguel’s face. He was a New Yorker, born and bred; he had tons of experience driving alongside absolute lunatics in the city. Still, he wouldn’t wish experiencing the road with Garden State drivers on his worst enemy.
“If that asshole cuts me off I’m getting out of the car.” The steering wheel was hanging on to its shape for dear life, from how hard Miguel was clenching his fists around it. They were stuck in traffic, barely moving a few feet every 5 minutes. A douchey convertible with a hideous paint job and New Jersey plates was inching closer and closer to the side of his car, its intentions clear: “Let me cut you off, or we crash”.
“Language!” Peter gave him a disapproving look. Mayday had already learned how to babble what sounded suspiciously like crap and fuck because of him and Miguel never let him hear the end of it. They did not need to add asshole to her repertoire.
“Fine. If that dumb, ugly, nasty, stupid, idiotic -“
“Okay thesaurus, that’s enough.” Pete rubbed Miguel’s arm soothingly in an attempt to calm him, “He’s not worth it, did you know that you don’t even have to drive on a real street to pass a driver’s exam in New Jersey? I heard that they make you drive on like, a mini go-kart track with cardboard cutouts as pedestrians, like a fuc- uh … freaking cartoon!”
Miguel raised his eyebrow at him. His rambling was usually nonsense, but it was nonsense he craved to comfort and entertain him before he actually did get out of the car and cause a multi vehicle crash on the turnpike.
“Really? Is that even legal?”
“Sweetheart, it’s New Jersey, the law does not apply in Chris Christie-ville.”
Miguel snorted and leaned into his husband’s touch. “He has not been governor for like five years Pete.”
Peter gave him an incredulous look, “What?! Then why are people always mentioning him? Is he their patron saint now or something?” He looked out of his passenger side window with a look of serious contemplation, “Man I really need to catch up with New Jersey lore…” He pretended not to hear the quiet laugh that escaped Miguel, a self satisfied smirk blooming on his lips. He could confidently check off “ keep Miguel from strangling an incompetent driver” from his mental ‘Keep the Hubby Sane’ list. So far so good.
“Kiss Kwissy!”
The two men shared a dumbfounded look. They slowly turned their heads in unison to face the source of the noise in the backseat.
“Kiss KWISSY!”
Mayday was kicking her feet excitedly on her car seat, eyes bright and face full of glee now that her fathers’ attention was on her. Gabriella beside her, was sound asleep, looking angelic- her complete polar opposite.
“I-is she trying to say-”
“Kwiiiiiiss kwissy!”
“Oh my god she’s trying to say Chris Christie!” Peter howled with laughter, gripping the back of his seat for support. Miguel stared at his daughter with his mouth slightly agape and a strange mix of pride and mortification in his gut. She was so smart, but why did she have to pick up on the most ridiculous words?
“Wait where’s my phone?! Oh my god oh my god that is too cute!” The photographer fumbled around the seat and in his pockets until he retrieved his device. He aimed the camera at May and hit record. “Mayday my little genius, can you say, Chris Christie ?~”
May stared up at her dad with big blue eyes, but said nothing. Suddenly, the still traffic outside was a thousand times more interesting than whatever the hell her dad had going on.
“May?” Peter’s phone drooped in his hand, he gave Miguel an exasperated look, “Oh, come on! Why does she always do that?”
Miguel returned his gaze with his own mirthful stare, “I don’t know, she always listens to me.” He ignored Peter’s pout and faced his daughter, “May,” he used a soft but firm tone that always seemed to get the little girl’s attention no matter what she was doing. Sure enough, the redhead immediately snapped her attention back to them, “Chris Christie?”
“Kiss Kwissy!”
It was Peter’s turn to look like a fish as he both seethed with jealousy and felt his heart do cartwheels at how his husband could coax obedience out of the girls so easily. He could feel his ears become warm and he knew his face could probably color match with a tomato. Curse his pale ass for always getting flushed so easily. Miguel was doing his best to hold back any indications of how smug he felt, but it was so difficult when he enjoyed Peter’s flustered reactions so much. He finally pried a hand off the steering wheel and placed it on Peter’s thigh, squeezing playfully.
“See? It’s really not that difficul-” before Miguel could rub it in his face, Peter used his left hand to push him away so he was facing front again.
“Yeah yeah, eyes on the road baby whisperer.”
Miguel snatched Peter’s wrist before he could pull away from his face. He pressed the metal band around his husband’s ring finger against his lips, the cool metal left a chilling sensation on his skin as he gave it a gentle kiss.
They’ve been married for almost 3 years and together for more, yet still Peter found he was caught off guard constantly by Miguel’s affections at the most unexpected moments. For good measure, he pressed another warm kiss to the inside of Peter’s palm and held him in place.
“Jealous, princessa?”
Hot breath brushed against Peter’s skin sending involuntary shivers through his body. He considered himself a resilient man, but Christ on a stick he had no power against that nickname and that tone of voice, not to mention that stupid sexy smirk his stupid sexy husband was blinding him with.
A hot man with a fatherly persona was his number one weakness, but Peter Parker does not back down from a challenge- even if he intends to lose.
With a quickness that should be abnormal for a regular human being, Peter used the hand Miguel was holding to grab the other man’s chin and pull his face forward. The smaller man made a move to meet him in the middle, but just before their lips could meet, he stopped dead in his tracks and stared at Miguel with half lidded eyes.
“Hm~ you’re gonna have to try harder than that to get a rise out of me, mi amor.” Peter’s breath ghosted over Miguel’s mouth, and just as quickly as he had brought their faces together, he gave his captive a peck on the cheek and pulled away. “Oh hey! Traffic is finally moving again!”
Miguel took a few seconds to recover before composing himself, hoping the burning under his skin didn’t manifest as an obvious flush. He side-eyed Peter and watched the other man act completely natural, as if he wasn’t just about to break both of their necks in a false attempt to makeout in the middle of the turnpike. Peter won this one, he couldn’t even make fun of his Spanish, it was inevitably getting better after so many years together.
“You’re lucky the girls are in the back…” Miguel’s words were a hoarse grumble. Peter just flashed him a cheeky smile as he began to fiddle with the radio.
The asshole driver did end up cutting him off, but he found he did not give a single damn.
Time since departure: 1 hour 56 minutes
Miguel was exhausted. After the traffic jam the road had been relatively easy to navigate through without a lot of slowdowns- at least due to other cars. Sometime halfway through their trip, Gabriella had woken up from her nap in a foul mood. She had been wailing nonstop despite Peter’s attempts to cheer her up from the front seat. Eventually Gabi’s screams managed to get May upset, and soon enough both girls were crying their little eyes out without any indication that they would stop on their own. They had no choice but to make a rest stop that lasted about 30 minutes until both girls calmed down. It was the first time they had ever been strapped to their car seats for that long without many breaks, so their behavior was no surprise; it was an uncomfortable experience for them. Luckily, after snacks and diaper changes, they were refreshed and ready for the rest of the ride. Their dads just grew a couple extra gray hairs, but who’s counting?
“Can you remind me why we drove all the way down here in the first place?” Miguel pulled into a miraculously empty parking spot right at the foot of the crossing to the beach. The amount of cars already here made him nervous. He hoped there would be space to set up on the sand.
“Uh- I don’t want my babies swimming in brown mystery water! Besides, no offense to Coney Island but compared to the beaches down here it might as well be a landfill… I hope the spirits of New York don’t take my soul tonight for saying that.”
Begrudgingly, Miguel hummed in agreement. He knew Peter was right, the few beaches New York had were a nice attraction for tourists due to their history and various recreational activities- but once you got to the actual beach… It didn't help that the ocean water on the upper east coast was always freezing; once you witnessed the mystical, murky waters with your own eyes, you thought twice about taking a dip in them bare and exposed.
“Your butt must be sore babe, I’ll carry the stuff this time, you get the girls.” Peter shot out of the passenger’s side not bothering to mask his eagerness at finally having reached their destination. They didn’t have much to carry, just one umbrella, a beach bag, a baby bag, 2 chairs, and of course his camera case. He was totally not going to be winded on the 5 minute walk from the lot to the beach, definitely not. “Jesus it feels like the ninth circle of hell out here. Migs, we should probably reapply sunscreen on them.”
Miguel, sunglasses on and already opening the door on Gabi’s side of the car, gave his husband a nod, “Yeah, we should. Hand me the baby bag.” Peter carried the bag to the backseat and pulled out the babies’ sunscreen. Miguel took extra care to lather the lotion on every inch of exposed skin on Gabi and May, they were going to look like ghosts when he was done with them.
“They’re wearing swimsuits under their dresses, make sure you get their legs.”
“I know, I got it.” The broader man was doing his best to gently evade Gabriella’s excited slapping and May’s kicking on his hands.
Peter snorted and let Miguel do his thing. He’d have to wipe the excess sunscreen off their faces for the pictures he wanted to take, but he’d worry about that later. Preferably when his husband wasn’t looking.
“Your turn.”
Peter flipped around to find Miguel standing directly behind him, “Huh?”
“You burn like a hairless dog in a desert.” Not waiting for a response, Miguel began to smear sunscreen on Peter’s face with unexpectedly tender movements. Pete wasn’t blushing, it was just hot as balls out here.
“That made no sense, but thanks! I’ll do you on the beach.”
There was a pause. Miguel gave him a deadpan stare as his husband tried and failed to contain a giggle. “We’ll see who does who.”
“Oooh, don't threaten me with a good time big guy~” Peter brushed his hands down Miguel’s sides until they settled on his waist.
Miguel, undeterred, took a fat glob of sunscreen and smeared it across Peter’s smiling mouth.
“Plegh! Pbbt! Eurgh… Noh, coo man .”
Peter clawed at his mouth and tongue, trying to escape the sharp chemical taste of sunscreen invading his palette. Oh, Miguel was gonna pay dearly for this one. Miguel said nothing, the only indication of his amusement being the slight upward twitch of his lips. He began to unbuckle May from her seat and gestured for Peter to start grabbing their things. The photographer narrowed his eyes at his attacker, pointing a finger accusingly at him as if to say ‘ just you wait’.
Peter may have failed to mention that New Jersey beaches were not free, a fact which had added yet another stress line to Miguel’s forehead. The money wasn’t the issue, the issue was the booth only accepted cash payments. Cash which neither man currently possessed at the moment save for one single one hundred dollar bill crumpled in one of the folds in Miguel’s wallet. To top it all off, this beach had a strict “exact change only” policy, so what should've been a $20 total entry fee turned into an $80 tip for the beach. Miguel hoped it would at least go to the staff or at least somehow contributed to keeping the damn place clean.
“Baby? Are you mad? Please don’t be mad!” Peter was trotting behind Miguel like a lost puppy trying to keep up with its owner’s speed walking. He was starting to feel the burn in his arms from carrying all their things and basically running with unsure footing on the sand. “Okay, I admit I should've done a little more research and realized they only took cash- hah - and then I should’ve been prepared with said cash- but i-it’ll be fine! A hundred bucks is a small price to pay for the unforgettable memories we will make today, not to mention it’ll be a noble contribution to the ecological conservation-”
“Peter.”
“- of the natural beauty of this location. May and Gabi are experiencing one of Earth’s most magnificent-”
“Peter!” Miguel turned to him abruptly, daughters in hand, “I’m not mad… but I will be unless you help me find a spot. C’mon.” He continued to walk, but slowed his pace considerably after witnessing the other man’s disheveled state.
“Right, okay.” Peter bit his bottom lip with a worried expression on his face, not entirely convinced. He should’ve anticipated that at some point during the day, ‘keep Miguel from strangling me’ should be checked off his mental list.
They eventually reached the edge of the shore where other families were already set up and lounging in their respective chairs and towels. Surprisingly, to Miguel’s contentment, the spacing between each group of visitors was large- the sparsest beach he had ever seen during peak season in his lifetime. Both men took a moment to admire just how beautiful this beach actually was. There was no litter anywhere, the sand was soft and almost white, fine ground minerals glittering in the sunlight. The ocean was the most breathtaking part of it all. Blue and green water rippled smoothly over the sand in a rhythmic dance with a pattern only nature could command. The water was so calm there were barely any waves but the sound of rushing water lapping at the shore was ever present in the air.
Peter inhaled deeply, positively intoxicated with sea breeze, “Wow. It’s even better than what I saw on Google. How’s this spot honey?” He gestured to an empty patch of flat sand, soft and inviting and best of all, private.
Miguel pulled his gaze away from the horizon, the irritation that had been building up from earlier already seeping away into nothing. “It’s good, let’s set up.”
Moments later, the Parker-O’Haras were, at long last, doing what they traveled so far to do: relax. Miguel and Peter sat side by side in their respective chairs. Miguel had discarded his T-shirt immediately, earning a lecherous stare from Peter that he pretended not to enjoy being the subject of. Could anyone really blame him? Miguel hadd amazing genetics and worked out regularly; his golden, toned skin seemed to glow under the sun’s radiance. Between them, May and Gabi were seated on the edge of a Princess Anna & Elsa beach towel slapping together some mounds of sand, completely mesmerized by the feeling of the new and grainy texture. May was a few months older than Gabi, but this was also her very first time at the beach. Their dads hoped that the feeling of experiencing this together was something that stayed with them for a long time.
Miguel leaned his full weight onto the chair and buried his feet in the sand. He closed his eyes and simply basked in the comfort of lounging by the sea. He tried to think about the last time he allowed himself to fully unplug his racing mind from his body and just exist . No recent memories came to mind.
Today, surrounded in the comfort of his family, he would allow himself some respite.
Peter, on the other hand, kept himself busy. He pulled out his camera and began fine tuning its settings, testing them by snapping pictures of the ocean in front of him until he was satisfied with the result.
“Yes! This is good.” he got up off his chair and out of the shade of their umbrella to kneel a few feet in front of the girls. He took some test shots, checking each one to make sure it was perfect. “Gabi! May! Look at daddy!” The girls looked up at Peter with curiosity. Good, he had their attention. Now for his killer move. With his free hand, he pulled the corner of his mouth as far as it would go, stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes- he was sure he looked absolutely ridiculous- and they loved it.
Both babies burst into a fit of laughter and giggles, Peter couldn’t stop his own chuckles from escaping him at the sight. With the expertise of a seasoned photographer, he quickly snapped well over 20 photos of his daughters, capturing the bright, unadulterated joy that only an infant’s face could produce.
“Who are my perfect, sweet, innocent angels that could never do any wrong, ever , for the rest of time and eternity?~”
Peter’s cooing, the sound of giggling babies and the serene ambience of the ocean lulled Miguel into a deep and tranquil sleep.
He knocked out for the better part of an hour.
Like a cat, he stretched out the kinks in his joints that had formed from almost an hour of motionless sleep and rubbed his face, accidentally knocking his sunglasses off.
“Hey sleeping beauty! Thirsty?” Peter hovered over him, an offering of a water bottle dripping with condensation in his hand. Miguel took it gratefully and downed the whole thing in a few seconds. Feeling refreshed and - more foreignly - well rested, he took a moment to appreciate the sight before him. Peter had also taken off his pink button up sometime during his nap. He was wearing bright blue and red swim trunks with a black spider web pattern that were way too short for a man his age to be wearing. Was Miguel complaining though? No. Peter’s long legs and supple curves were on full display, and all Miguel wanted to do was reach out and run his hands over them.
Peter waggled his eyebrows, “Like what you see?”
“...Maybe.”
“Well keep it in your pants. I’m taking them swimming.” Peter leaned down to place a quick peck on Miguel’s pouty lips before turning to the girls and interrupting whatever complex, top secret game they had created with their toy bucket and shovels. It consisted of stuffing the bucket full of sand and dumping it out; rinse and repeat. Gabriella seemed satisfied to let her big sister do all the heavy lifting, acting as moral support by babbling and hitting her tiny shovel against the ground repeatedly. Miguel noticed the remains of a little moat surrounding a large mound of sand, no doubt the remnants of Peter’s sand castle building skills reduced to a blob by the constant lapping of the sea.
Peter gently pried the bucket out of Mayday’s hands, and even though she whined in protest she did not resist. When he went to take Gabi’s shovel however, he found that he had severely underestimated her strength. She held that thing in a baby death grip, determined not to let her dad separate her from her current favorite toy.
“Gabs sweetie, come on, you’ll lose that in the ocean.” Peter tried with little success to pry her tiny fingers off the handle. Gabi scrunched her face in annoyance, a warning that if Peter did not surrender, he would not be safe from her wrath. Her dad sighed, “Fine. But if you lose it I’m not buying you another one.” An empty threat, he most definitely would- she had him wrapped around her chubby little finger. He took their hands, May on his left and Gabi on his right, and helped them up on their feet. “ Who wants to go swimming !~”
“The sand is too hot, don’t take their crocs off.” Miguel gave him a hard look as he lay back on the chair with his arms crossed
“They’re fine! They’re in sport mode.” Peter began to lead the girls towards the water.
“If they drown, I’ll kill you.” He may or may not be joking.
“Roger!”
After they got through the initial shock of the cold temperature of the water- Miguel wasn’t sure who screamed louder: Peter or the girls- the trio appeared to be having a blast. The balance between the scorching atmosphere and frigid water made it easy for their bodies to adapt. Peter led them just far enough to where the girls were knee deep in the ocean. He could feel his husband staring daggers at his back, warning him not to go further. The babies jumped and splashed excitedly in the water, never falling thanks to their dad’s steady grip on their hands. Peter laughed as he took turns lifting each girl up in the air eliciting screams of pure glee that could probably be heard all the way back in Queens.
Miguel watched them, that familiar fondness blooming in his core. Pulling out his phone he brushed some sand off the screen and checked the time: 12:56 PM. Peter hadn’t eaten since before they left, he would no doubt be ravenous by now. They had packed fruit, boiled eggs and vegetables for the girls for whenever they got hungry, but there was no “adult food”- as Peter called it- anywhere in there. Scanning the area, he deemed it safe enough to leave their things unattended for the short time it would take him to buy something from the nearby snack booth. He hoped for the cashier’s sake that they embraced modernity and took his damn credit card as a form of payment.
A few minutes later, Miguel returned with a well stacked hamburger for Peter and some chicken tenders for himself. As if summoned by the prospect of food, Peter came walking back with the girls by his side, completely drenched head to toe. He almost didn’t want to know how that happened considering they were supposed to stay in shallow water.
“Why are you wet?”
Peter raised his eyebrow, “I dunno babe, water just tends to do that to someone when they go swimming in it.“
Miguel narrowed his eyes, ignoring the snark, “You took them far didn’t you.” He considered stuffing the burger in the sand.
“Relax! I carried them a little deeper, yes , but they loved it! And they’re fine.”
“Tch.” Miguel scrutinized his daughters. Evidently, they seemed content and unharmed, already looking for their toys to resume their earlier activities. Gabi had not lost her shovel in the ocean after all, he was impressed. Peter’s dramatic gasp pulled his gaze back up to him.
“Did you get me food!? Oh my god, I love you! I’m starving!”
They sat and ate, Miguel satiating a hunger he had not even realized he had been harboring. The girls played in the sand some more, completely uninterested in food and only accepting the sips of water offered to them. Unsurprisingly, Peter’s burger was gone in 3 bites. Miguel was glad he was wearing sunglasses so he could freely gawk at the way Peter’s wet hair stuck to his forehead, drops of water leaving shiny trails in their wake as they dripped down his face.
It was Miguel’s turn to teach his daughters about architecture and the importance of sound structure with sand, so he dutifully helped them build an impressive castle. It would’ve been a relatively easy- dare he say relaxing - task, if Gabriella would stop getting up and running towards the sea every five minutes.
“Gabi! Gabriella!” He reached over and grabbed Gabi’s arm before she could run any further for the 4th time in less than 20 minutes. She usually wasn’t this hyperactive, he wasn’t sure what had gotten into her. Gabi babbled in protest and pulled against her father’s grip, her free arm making grasping motions towards the ocean. Miguel sighed and used both hands to lift her and hold her against him, “What is it cariño? Are you hungry?”
Click
Miguel glared at Peter behind him, camera in hand, looking completely unthreatening with a pouty baby in his arms, “Can you not?”
Peter snickered and took another picture of the duo for good measure. They were making the exact same facial expression; Gabi looked like an exact mini replica of her dad and it made Peter’s heart do cartwheels in his chest, “I think she wants to go swimming again babe. I’ll take her if you’re still avoiding the water.” He wanted to add: ‘ like a cat’ , but quickly remembered he was trying to keep Miguel sane today.
Gabi continued to twist and reach for the ocean, squirming in Miguel’s grasp. Alright, maybe he should’ve been at least 2% more perceptive, but Peter had always been better at reading the girls’ behavior and anticipating their needs. He grunted as he looked over at May who had been completely silent sitting beside him, and for good reason. Blue eyes were staring off into space, blinking slowly and her small body swayed in place. Miguel quickly reached out a hand to steady her before she plopped face first into the sand.
“Alright, take her- but not too far,” he gave Peter a pointed look under his sunglasses, “I think Mayday needs a nap.”
Peter put away his camera and went to lift Gabriella who immediately made grabby hands at him, seemingly anticipating his intentions
“Come on sweetie, I’ve gotcha!” Gabi squealed in delight as Peter bounced her on his hip and trotted towards the ocean. Once he was ankle deep in water, he lowered Gabi to her feet and held her hands in his, lifting her up and swinging her up and down. The baby exploded with laughter every time she was airborne, kicking and splashing and screaming as much as her little body would allow her.
Miguel looked away before he had a heart attack. They were having a good time and enjoying themselves- that’s all that mattered. He turned back to Mayday, poor thing already threatening to fall asleep whilst sitting up. He picked her up with the care that someone would have holding sugar glass and sat back down on his chair.
“Sleepy, mi vida?” Mayday cooed something quiet and fussy, eyelids already drooping over her eyes. She rested her chubby cheek on Miguel’s chest and it took no time for her breathing to even out, an indication that she was fast asleep. Miguel stroked her fiery red locks, snuggling her closer and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He remained there, eyes closed and inhaling her scent mixed with the salty smell of the sea. In the distance, he could still hear Gabi’s squeals and Peter’s laughing. It all enveloped him in a sense of calm and peace he wished he could take with him anywhere; something he could pull out of his pocket when everything became too much and he needed to be surrounded by that warmth.
He remembered suddenly that Mayday would be extremely upset if she woke up without her prized possession: a plush tiger that had been well loved- it was missing an eye and the stitching on its tail was coming undone. The color of its fur had dulled from its many trips into the washing machine, but even though it was less than an aesthetically pleasing toy, Mayday could not go a single day without it. It wasn't just important to her, it was an equally sentimental item for her dads as well. The tiger was one of the first items Miguel and Peter had ever bought together for their first baby, and thus the first item they had ever bought for their growing family. He remembers the pure joy in Peter’s eyes when he first spotted it at Babies R Us, completely wiping out the anxiety that had been plaguing him about being a parent just moments before. Miguel remembers so clearly how tight his own chest felt at the sight, heart so completely full and buzzing with anticipation to meet their daughter and start to build the life he always dreamed of with him. A life they are already well into building together.
A life he felt he was neglecting being a part of because of his career.
Feeling a wave of familiar guilt clawing its way out in his gut, he reached for the tiger plush in the baby bag nearby. Its slightly matted fur was easily identifiable in the mess of items inside. Securing the toy under Mayday’s arm he began to think about how many nights Peter would have done this exact thing for both girls all on his own because Miguel was working late, or off in another city for a scientific conference. He knew it must be draining him. Aside from his job, he was raising two almost toddler aged babies and taking care of the housework whenever he was home- which was a lot of the time. Briefly, the thought that the girls could feel his absence and that Peter was generally unhappy with their life crossed his mind. It became too much to bear, so he tried his best to push it to the back of his mind where he kept all his repressed negative emotions. He hugged his only tether to sanity on his chest even closer, being sure not to wake her.
Moments later, a thoroughly drenched Peter and their youngest baby came strolling back up to their site. Peter began talking about some hilarious sound Gabi had made while swinging around with him, but the words weren’t really registering in Miguel’s mind. He looked up at his expressive husband and simply stared, enjoying the familiarity of how Peter always used grand hand gestures and movements when he was explaining something. Eventually, the silence from Miguel had gone on for far too long, and Peter took a moment to really look over the broader man and Mayday on the chair.
“Hey, everything okay?” Peter stared at him with brown eyes full of patience and understanding. He grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped Gabi in it, taking a seat on the adjacent chair and setting her on his lap. Miguel should’ve known that the only man who knew him inside and out would be able to tell something was souring his mood- more than usual.
He looked down at the sleeping baby on his chest, “I was just thinking.”
“Ah, that’s usually dangerous! About?” Peter cocked his head to the side like a curious dog.
“About…” he sighed, “me being absent at home. Work consumes so much of my life, you’re basically a single parent most of the time.”
“...But I love being your housewife!”
“Peter…” Miguel gave him a tired look.
“Kidding! I mean- not really but- I don't see it as a bad thing. And absent? That’s just not true. Why are you thinking about all this?” Peter’s tone was gentle, he was confused, but he wanted to give his husband the space to speak his mind without any perceived threat of judgment.
Miguel swallowed the lump in his throat. He might as well get the answers the paranoid part of his mind is always asking him for.
“...Are you unhappy?”
It was like someone had conjured up a bucket of cold water from thin air and splashed it on his face. Peter was completely stunned, he blinked a few times as if that would help him process Miguel’s question any better. He thought Peter was unhappy? That was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard, and he was about to say as much before reminding himself that Miguel was being vulnerable and genuine; he expected a real answer, so Peter would give him one.
“Honey, you think I’m unhappy because I’m at home most of the time with our girls, whom I love very much?” He didn’t give Miguel any time to answer his rhetorical question, “Okay, first of all, you working late does not make you absent. These last few weeks have been rough, for both of us , but that’s just the name of the game when you have a mortgage and two college funds to start saving for.” He looked down at Gabi bundled in the towel and pressed a kiss to the top of her shiny black locks, “Do I wish you were home all day and never left our side? Delusionally, yeah of course I do! I always miss you, and I’m sure the girls do too, but waiting for you to come home is our favorite part of the day, huh Gabs?” The baby giggled at the mention of her name. Peter hugged her and tried to put as much warmth as possible into his gaze so that Miguel really got the point of his whole spiel.
“Migs, I am quite literally, the happiest guy on the planet. I love our life together. I’m married to the hottest man in the universe, we have two beautiful babies and I get to wake up at the reasonable hour of ten in the morning on most days.” He earned a little snort from Miguel which he welcomed with his own lopsided smirk.
“You know you’re amazing with them right? Especially where it matters most.” Peter’s expression fell slightly but he tried to hide it by looking off into the horizon, “...If anything, I worry about whether I can guarantee I won’t screw ‘em up somewhere down the line y’know?” Peter thought about how Miguel made the most of his time with the girls, especially when he was away for a few days or got home after working late. Even though exhaustion was painfully obvious on him, he would take the time to feed them dinner, clean them up and get them ready for bed. If they were already asleep by the time he got home, he would always offer to help Peter with any last minute chores that needed to be done before they tuckered in for the night. In their room, they would catch each other up on anything and everything- workplace gossip, superiors they couldn’t stand, groceries for the week, and so on. If they had the energy for other bedroom activities then they skipped the talking altogether and went right ahead with that.
Peter honestly couldn’t believe that his husband was both the smartest and the dumbest man he knew. There was no conceivable reality in which Miguel O’Hara neglected his family, and he had to do a better job of telling him that until it was branded into the back of his thick skull.
“But, wanna know the one thing that makes me think, ‘maybe I don’t completely suck at this parenting thing, I can definitely raise my kids to be decent human beings! ’ ? It’s the fact that I’m not doing it alone, I’m doing it with you.”
Miguel said nothing for a few moments, he feared that if he opened his mouth to speak all that would come out is something akin to an ugly sob. The part of him that doubted whether he deserved every good thing he had in his life and wondered when it would be taken from him would never be completely gone, but when Peter spoke to him with such understanding and honesty, it was so easy to believe him and forget what he was even dreading in the first place. Being in love was so annoying- he wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“...You’re a great dad, mi amor…”
Peter preened at the praise, moreso because it came from one of the people he loved most in this world, “So are you. Don't you ever doubt that, okay?”
Miguel blushed, looking away. After all these years it was still difficult accepting praise like that, but he was working on it, “...Thanks.” He had a thought then, something so uncomplicated that perhaps he had been too stressed out and anxious to consider a possibility before their talk just now, “I… still think I’m going to cut back my hours at the lab.”
Peter’s eyes widened slightly, “Yeah? That would be nice, but won’t your team give you hell?”
“They’ll be fine. The new hires are there for a reason… Plus they have to do what I tell them to do.”
Peter chuckled and got up with Gabriella in his arms to stand closer to Miguel, “If you say so! I’d be terrified to have you as my boss.” He leaned over and kissed him deeply, being careful not to crush the two babies between them. Miguel drank in the warmth of his husband’s mouth- he tasted salty after a whole day of ocean fun. Peter pulled away to look into his favorite reddish brown eyes, only to remember they were concealed beneath dark sunglasses. He lifted them up with one hand so they rested on the top of Miguel’s head. The sudden invasion of light into his retinas made Miguel cringe, but he quickly recovered with the help of Peter's head blocking out most of it. A calloused hand cradled his cheek as he struggled to maintain the intensity of Pete's eye contact.
“You don’t ever have to worry about us ever being an unhappy, okay big guy?”
Miguel sighed, closing his eyes and leaning into Peter’s grounding touch. He brought his own hand up to hold his husband’s and gave his palm a quick peck.
“Okay.”
“Good!” With that Peter was all smiles again. He made a move to head back to his own chair, adjusting Gabi in his arms in the process, but something behind Miguel caught his eye. In the blink of an eye, his expression switched to one of pure shock etched across his features.
“OH MY GOD!”
“WHAT!?” Miguel’s fight or flight was activated and ready to assess the incoming threat. He sat up like a bolt of lightning, caging the baby in his arms protectively.
“Look, it's a tiny crab! Adorable, right!?” Peter pointed to a small creature scurrying across several feet behind him - how he even noticed it was a mystery considering it was so far and well camouflaged against the sand. Just what he needed, to be sent to an early grave due to a heart attack induced by the surprise presence of a crab.
“... Te voy a chingar maldita sea!” If he wasn’t holding Mayday he would have wrapped both hands around the man’s throat.
“Hey! The no cursing rule still applies in Spanish!”
By 5:36 PM, the Parker-O’Haras were packed up and ready to go home. May and Gabi were absolutely pooped from a day full of new experiences and excitement, they made no protest when they were cleaned up and buckled back into their car seats. Peter had offered to drive all the way home this time, but Miguel wouldn’t let him. He hadn’t really rested as much as Miguel had, having spent 70% of the time in the ocean. Like clockwork, Peter was fast asleep and snoring once they hit the turnpike. The trip back was less chaotic than the morning; it turns out people are much more prone to follow the laws of the road when they are rushing back home from the beach. Once home, the girls were bathed and fed one last time before they were tucked into their cribs in their shared room. Despite spending a lot of time under the sun’s powerful rays, neither baby seemed to have sustained any sunburns at all. Miguel silently patted himself on the back for drenching them in sunscreen every 2 hours. Peter however, had not fared so well.
“Ugh, aloe feels so slimy and gross. How the heck did I get so badly burnt?” Peter pulled a clean shirt over his head, hating the feeling of the fabric rubbing against his sensitive aloe-d up body. His whole back and shoulders were on fire, and while an ice cold shower had eased the discomfort momentarily, he definitely had to sleep on his belly tonight.
“Every time I asked you if you wanted more sunscreen you called me a wuss.” Miguel rummaged through his dresser for clean pajamas. Fresh out of the shower, he was prepared to conk out as soon as his head hit the pillow.
“And I stand by it.”
Grabbing his fresh pajamas, he wordlessly walked up behind Peter and flicked the back of his neck, so red it was almost glowing.
“Oooowww! Mean!”
Miguel expertly dodged his husband’s attempt at retaliation on his bare chest, “Maybe next time you’ll listen to me.” He grabbed a hold of Peter’s wrist and threw him down on their bed. Peter hissed when his sore back made contact with the mattress, but who was he kidding, he definitely liked where this was going- or would be going if they both weren’t ready to pass out.
“If my back wasn’t killing me you’d be in trouble.” He gingerly sat up and crawled into the covers on his side of the bed.
“Sure, viejo.”
Miguel heard Peter scoff indignantly, but he was too busy getting dressed to fully enjoy the flushed face and pout that most definitely came after. Peter watched him shamelessly, deciding that he was too hot to stay mad at for long. Once dressed, Miguel checked his phone on the nightstand for any last minute notifications that needed his attention. He saw an email from his work account that he decided he would ignore until Monday, or at the very least until tomorrow afternoon when he inevitably caved. He crawled into bed right next to Peter who was laying on his side with his head propped up on his arm. He lay on his side as well, facing the other man and draping his arm slowly around his waist in an attempt not to hurt his burnt skin. Peter hummed in appreciation, he looked down at Miguel with sleepy, affectionate eyes.
“Did you have a good day?” Peter drew tiny circles with his index fingers on Miguel’s chest.
“Mhm.” He tilted his head up to press his lips against Peter’s, “Did you?”
“Of course I did. I spent it with my favorite people in the whole world.”
“Hm. Besides the guy that narrates your-”
“Besides the guy that narrates my seahorse documentaries, yes.”
They shared a quiet chuckle. Peter moved to stroke Miguel’s fluffy and slightly damp hair. He didn’t have to lean in to smell the fruity scent of his shampoo wafting in the air between them. Miguel closed his eyes, contentment apparent on his face as he felt sleep begin to submerge him into its comfortable embrace.
“Sorry he couldn’t make it.”
Peter kissed his temple, “No need, you’re a great replacement.” As if. There was no other person he would ever want to live the rest of his life with like this, “I love you Migs.”
“..I love you too.”
Peter smiled to himself as he watched Miguel drift off to sleep. He'd never admit it out loud, but it had become one of his favorite nighttime activities. He could admire the subtle rise and fall of his chest and the sharp edges of his face turn soft and lax for hours. Unfortunately, tonight his own exhaustion was threatening to pull him out of consciousness, so he settled his head on his own pillow and continued to run his fingers through Miguel’s hair for as long as he could.
He did a pretty good job with the list today. Maybe more frequent trips to New Jersey wouldn't be so bad after all.