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Miguel had just about had it. The fog behind his eyes was reaching peak levels of unbearable, and he hadn’t even assigned out the latest anomaly missions. Lyla had been nagging him about lying down for the past several hours, and if he had the choice, he wouldn’t give in.
But he didn’t have a choice. That once-a-month, itchy feeling under his skin was starting to creep up, making Miguel groan in protest. Why did it have to be him? Couldn’t literally anyone else be plagued with this odd, instinctual nagging that he find a dark, warm nest, and curl up in it? He sighed, giving into the fate of being a growly, unproductive mess for the next three days.
Sleep, dark, warm, safe, nest, his brain whispered. Miguel searched the ceiling for a good spot to hang from, when a corner and a rafter beam caught his eye. He threw up the first of many webs, carefully throwing and sticking each piece while swinging between them. When the shaggy form of a huge hammock was made, he levered himself up, to continue weaving the actual form of the nest.
nest warm, nest good, NEST. his mind chanted. He purred in agreement, putting the final touches on the base structure. From the ground, it almost resembled a large, squishy beehive, with how thickly the webs were weaved together.
Miguel lowered himself to the ground again, crawling along the wall to the hidden closet where he kept his nesting materials. He grabbed an armful of pillows and blankets, and tossed them up to the web hammock.
“That’s it,” he mumbled to himself, “we’re getting somewhere…” The throbbing in his head had lessened, but he could feel the forefront of his mind going dark. Soon he’d be completely feral, and he’d have to rely on Peter B. or Jess to feed him.
He looked at all the unfinished work on his desk mournfully one last time, before he sighed and turned his monitors off. Someone else can take care of it, he chanted to himself, while swinging up to his home for the next three days. He didn’t truly believe that of course, but he had to tell himself something, or else Jess would find him growling at himself while trying to make a nest on top of the computers.
Miguel purred at the sight of his nest, reaching for the nearest pillow and kneading it under his barely clawed fingers. yesss, goood, need… need sleep, need… need pups? His brain halted, and Miguel whined, missing his daughter. Missing the smell of her, missing the softness of her hair, and her neediness. Her soft youthfulness, the way she relied on him. He needed things to take care of, people to take care of. Why won’t anyone just let him take care of them? He shook off the bad mothering thoughts, burying his face in the smell of pack– of Jess and Peter B. He’d never admit how much he needed them, but he did.
Just as he was dozing off in the comfortable mass of webbing and blankets, he heard the doors slide open, and a group of footsteps coming closer. Miguel’s ears perked, listening for danger.
“No, listen, you see, it was ‘cause–” Miles. “That goblin dude was flipping his shit, and– wait…”
“What is that?” Gwen.
“I think it’s Miguels’.” Hobie.
“Hi Miguel!” Pav.
Spiderlings. Pups. PUPS.
Their scents were clearer now, soft and sweet, slightly high with adrenaline, but still tinged with the strange after-scent of a mission in a different universe. Miguel could fix that.
His red eyes peered over the edge, and shot down a web at the nearest pup. Miles.
“Miguel, what the– AAH–!” Miguel flung him upwards, meeting Miles’ landing in the nest with a soft chuff.
“Wha! What are you doing?! What is going on?!” Miles screeched, completely flushed.
Miguel purred, his eyes dilating at the scent of pup so close by. He brushed his neck firmly against Miles’ neck, scenting him thoroughly, gathering his lithe, teenage body close to his chest.
Pups safe. Pups warm. Pups sleep.
“MILES?!” Gwen screamed from below.
Miles turned around to look over the edge of the nest, attempting to wriggle free of Miguel’s tight hold. Miguel huffed, letting out a slight growl, and held him more closely.
Miles subtly aimed his web shooter at the ceiling, trying to get a good aim at an escape route from Miguel’s completely overbearing personality switch.
“I’m ok! Miguel is just being really– HEY!” Miguel Webbed Miles’ wrists together. He’d be damned if he let his new pup escape so quickly…
Miguel peered down again.
Gwen had taken an offensive stance, clearly waiting for Miles’ to say something. Hobie tilted his head at the sight of the feral eyes, and sent a peace sign at him.
Pav was waving. “Hey Miguel! Are you feeling ok? Was it that–”
Miguel webbed Gwen and Hobie together, dragging them both up to the nest.
“Oh, ok!” Pav chirped, “I’ll come up too!”
Pav made quick work of climbing up, especially considering the whole base of the nest was shaking with two out of Miguel’s four pups squirming against Miguel.
“Hey guys! Oh this is so cozy, I really like what you did with it!” Pav said, as though this were the most typical tuesday. Miguel purred at the pup’s approval, bumping his head against Pav’s like a cat.
Miguel had already taken the liberty of tying Gwen up too, and wrapping her in a duvet like a burrito.
“So, does anyone have an explanation for what’s going on? Or do I just get to be confused?” Gwen snipped.
Miguel just purred some more and rubbed against her neck, the pleasant heat-warmth running down his spine from having a nest full of pups. This good. Pups safe, pups warm, pups sleepy.
“Well, Miguel has these ‘heats’ once a month, where he gets super crazy and cuddly. It’s honestly super nice, because… well, you’ve seen how grumpy he can get.” Pav mumbled.
Miles looked to Miguel to see if he took offense to the accusation, but he was totally out of it– too preoccupied with running his fingers through the knots in Pav’s hair.
Hobie seemed to have gotten away with his freedom for the moment by not freaking out too much, but Miguel definitely wanted his boots gone. And his vest. And anything else that’s too pokey.
“Yea mate, you don’t need to tell me twice.” Hobie stretched out on a round cushion and crossed his legs, while Miguel actively tried to strip him of every punk article of clothing he had on, tossing them over the side one by one.
“Oi, watch the vest, mate, I made that!”
Miguel growled, covering Hobie’s gangly frame with his own, scenting his neck and wrists.
“So… this is… normal?” Miles asked, still tied up, but getting more comfortable, now that Gwen was next to him.
“Yah, pretty much,” Pav replied, sighing into Hobie’s side.
“His spider powers are just a little bit different from ours ya see. He got a lot more animal than human with his mixed bag of genes, which is why he goes a little feral sometimes,” Hobie added.
Miguel’s purring had reached max volume, practically rumbling the whole nest. Miles yawned. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was making him pretty sleepy. The last anomaly mission was honestly such a shit show, he was already planning on napping when he got back to his dimension.
Gwen took immediate notice of his state, “You can sleep dude, I don’t think anything’s gonna happen to us, with the way Miguel has gone all momma bear on us.”
She cuddled up to his side, throwing the blanket over him too.
“If you say so…” Miles yawned again, “I mean, I guess we are at the base? What’s the worst that could–”
“SHH.” Everyone said in unison.
Miguel growled.
“Yea, don’t ask that question.” Gwen added.
“Right, sorry,” Miles giggled.
It was all of ten seconds before all five of them had fallen asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If Peter was being truthful, the two hours that the spider-base had spent without Miguel breathing down their necks was quite peaceful. Beautiful even, but Jess was starting to get antsy, and Peter really didn’t like dealing with an anxious-pregnant mom. He’d had enough of anxious-pregnant MJ for one lifetime. Until they want another kid of course.
The mechanical doors that led to Miguel’s office slid open with a quiet hiss, and Peter stepped through without a sound, not wanting to make the huge grump any more angry. As he stepped into the dim light, the sight of a huge lump hanging from the ceiling came into view. It put into mind a gigantic spider egg sac. Peter cringed at the thought, but Mayday let out a delighted squeal, and reached her tiny hands for it.
Suddenly it hit him. Miguel’s in his weird heat-thing again. Goddammit.
“Pfft. I should’ve guessed.” Peter sighed. No harm in going up and checking on him though.
As he approached, Mayday beat him to the punch. She flung out a rope from her mini-web slingers, and was already climbing the bottom of the nest.
“Mayday no!! Shit, I shouldn’t have brought you to work today!” Peter cried.
She giggled as she reached the edge of the nest and rolled into it, right alongside Miguel’s sleeping form. He gave a snort, and shifted, his purrs still present, but soft with sleep. Mayday took this as an invitation to crawl around on top of his hulking form, like an oversized jungle gym.
As Peter finally heaved himself over the lip of the nest, Miguel had his tree-trunk arms wrapped around May, nuzzling her soft baby hair to his nose, scenting her.
“Ok,” Peter whispered, “Maybe this is completely adorable.”
He took in the forms of teenage lumps, scattered about the bed, each snoozing contentedly. Miles had his arms around Gwen’s shoulders, the both of them sharing a huge comforter. Pav and Hobie were also wrapped around each other on the other side of the nest, Pav with a sleepy smile on his face, Hobie with his face buried in the other’s neck. Miguel was right in the middle of it all, curled into a little ball, directly conflicting with his image as a huge, wild bear of a man.
“Maybe a little too adorable…” Peter said as he pulled out his phone to take a few pictures. Not for any malicious reasons of course. He’d never have any reason to blackmail anyone in this pile. Maybe.
Miguel split one red eye open, and let out a low growl. Pack… In nest… Need to scent…
“Aw sorry Miggy, are you enjoying your little cuddle puddle?” Peter crouched down, petting over his disheveled hair.
Miguel wrapped one huge hand over Peter’s forearm and yanked him down on top of him.
“Hey! Go easy on the arms, man! I just– Ope, ok.”
Miguel wrapped both Mayday and Peter into his embrace, scenting them both thoroughly. He pushed his nose deep into the crook of Peter’s neck, and chuffed. Pack warm, pack safe. Pups warm, Pups safe. His purring rekindled even stronger than before, the whole nest like a massage chair.
Peter chucked, and then yawned. He sent off an alert to Jess to send up a whole feast in about half an hour.
“Ok big guy, you can nap for a little longer…”
Peter nodded off not long after those words came out of his mouth, all his kids surrounding him, warm and safe.