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Frank had gotten quite the scolding from his wife when he came home from patrol dripping and shivering like a wet dog. Peter sat with his arms crossed on the couch, his glasses on as he turned on a lamp light and turned to seethe. The living room was beyond fucked, the coffee table was in splinters from the younger man destroying it. He didn't even want to know what happened to the kitchen with the way Peter was staring at him. The older man gulped despite how sore his throat was because he knew he'd truly screwed up.
It was eight months into their relationship, and the spider was leaning way too hard into this role play of them being married. The younger man acted like a real brat, ranting and raving about where Frank was late at night. More than once, the man gave him the silent treatment, smacking his hand with a magazine when he tried to touch his vagina. He was clingy, which Frank loved, as he was overbearing his damn self. However, Peter could be entirely on another level, especially when he felt rejected.
"I stayed up all night and made an entire lasagna because SOMEBODY said we were having dinner with Matt." Peter muttered angrily, his eyes glossy from having cried over the earlier abandonment.
Frank melted immediately and hobbled over to his pouty boy. While it could be jarring for the man to switch moods so quickly, Frank knew it was because Peter cared. The younger man bent over backwards to help him stay afloat on his darkest days and took a lot of shit from him on the worst of them. He ran their household all by himself, sometimes being left alone for weeks on end when Frank was in a particularly bad mood.
He hadn't been thinking about telling Peter about the dinner being canceled or about the fact his throat felt swollen all that morning. He had been preoccupied with his own dark thoughts, his own self hatred to notice the spider begging for his attention. To have a wife that was erased from the entire world's minds meant that said wife needed extra reassurance that Frank often lacked to give.
Right now, even though he felt like shit and Peter might throw a TV at him, he was going to try. He sat down next to the spider and wrapped his arm around his body. A pit formed in his stomach when he felt the trembling and saw how Peter's eyes were totally blown out. His wife had been so worked up about his absence that he'd gone into a state of spidey sense that was outright painful.
"I'll eat the entire lasagna." Frank said.
His wife sniffled. "You're sick. You aren't eating shit."
Frank shook his head, making sure he leaned in closer to feel his wife's shaking form. "I'll eat it. Even if I have to force it down, I'll clean the plate."
Peter blinked, his eyes trying to refocus as he snuggled closer and mumbled back. "I got upset, so I ended up accidentally shattering the pan it was in. It's all over the floor now."
"I'll lick it off the floor to make you happy." And he meant that shit because it would cheer him up.
Peter blushed and looked down at his lap with a fond smile. "You'd be eating shards of glass."
"Better than wasting a delicious meal made by my adorable boy wife." He was relieved to see the younger man light up at the nickname.
"You're just buttering me up," the arachnid mumbled, then he sniffed the air. "Go take a shower before the smell of mildew and criminal vomit stains your skin."
Frank took the chance to smell himself and winced. The guys that held him up got so nervous that they puked all over him. He thought the heavy downpour washed away the awful scent, but he was wrong. A warm shower sounded like heaven, and one with Peter even better. But he didn't want to risk asking when he was still technically in the dog house with his super strong weirdo wife.
"Yes, dear." He hugged the younger man tighter and kissed his cheek before getting up.
Peter laughed at the comment. It was becoming a habit of his to say that even in public and scurried off into the kitchen. Frank hoped he wasn't actually going to serve him glass-filled pasta, but if he did, it was deserved. Everyone knew a happy life meant a happy wife after all, and while they both had faults, making Peter have some semblance of a good life was all he gave a damn about anymore.