Chapter Text
Miles walked in step with Peter across the rooftop. “So what did you mean the other night?”
Peter barely looked his way, coming to the edge and surveying the street below. “Hm?”
Miles came up next to him. “What did you mean when you said I purr sometimes in my sleep?”
Peter turned to look at him, but nothing was revealed through the mask. “I meant that you purr sometimes in your sleep,” he said with a lilt of amusement in his tone.
Miles sighed, disbelieving. “So what, like a cat?”
“No. You’re not a cat, Miles.”
“Is purring some metaphor for something else, then? Like, did you mean I was just really relaxed or—”
“No, I meant actual purring. Spiders can purr too.”
Miles placed himself in front of him and blocked him from leaping off the building. “No they can’t!”
“Um, yes? I'm telling you they can. Wolf spiders, anyway.” Peter put a hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him out the way, jumping off the building and swinging over the street.
Miles sputtered, tuning in to his comms. “W-Wait! So then exactly how much of our DNA is wolf spiders, then? Because first it’s the piggy back situation, and now it’s this thing, and I thought you said that it was a mix of different—”
“—There’s something happening about a mile west, let’s go check that out first.”
Miles sighed, jumping off in that direction.
Later, when the sun was setting and casting a magnificent hue across the cityline, and after they'd both had a plate of tacos in front of them, Miles tried again.
“Sooo, the wolf spider. How can they purr? I thought insects didn’t have vocal chords.”
“Well, technically spiders aren’t—”
“Ohmygod Peter, none of them have vocal chords, arachnid or not.”
Peter just chuckled. “You’re right, they don’t. It’s kind of like crickets, they use some of their external parts to make sounds similar to what we call purring. It’s not like cats, with a contracting muscle.”
“So is that what you think I’m doing?”
Peter hummed. “No, from what I’ve found, we do it in a way that’s similar to cats, but that’s just because we don’t have pedipalps to do it like how spiders do. I’m pretty sure that the mental urge to vocalize made our bodies adapt in the only way that would allow us, so kind of a weird middle ground.” He took a bite out of his taco.
“So then when I’m ‘purring’, as you claim, what’s actually happening?”
Miles waited patiently for Peter to finish his bite.
…Then Peter took another bite instead of answering him.
“Peter!”
“Wha??” he exclaimed through a mouthful.
“Answer my question!”
He could’ve sworn Peter rolled his eyes just then. He swallowed, and continued. “It’s like with the cats, something is either relaxing or constricting to produce vibrations that are centered around our chest and throat area. Unlike spiders, it happens for a wider range of reasons other than just practicality, mostly as an emotional response. I’m also guessing because it adapts to humans’ wide ranges of chemical emotional triggers and—”
“So it’s exactly like cats,” Miles deadpanned.
“No! We weren’t bitten by cats, therefore it’s a human adaptation of a spider trait that happens to be somewhat similar to felines. And other mammals! Like mongooses, civets, genets—”
“So you said I did it when I was sleeping?”
Peter nodded. “Yes.”
“What emotional response was I feeling then?”
“Well, you were relaxed, I think. Content.”
Miles thought about it for a second, then squinted his eyes at his mentor. “Why don’t I believe you?”
Peter snorted. “Why would I lie about this?”
Miles shrugged. “I don’t know! I don’t think you’re lying, but I still don’t believe you. This is too weird.”
Peter finished his taco and threw the trash in the bag, looking Miles in the eye. “Wanna try and get it to happen again? While you’re awake?”
He searched Miles’ face for a moment, then laughed at whatever expression his mentee must’ve been pulling.
-
The idea was a little daunting at first, Miles a little incredulous at the idea, but nevertheless about two weeks into their attempts Peter was not only able to ‘coach’ him into purring while awake, but also finally able to get it going to a point where it didn’t immediately disappear once Miles noticed it.
Which would be right then, as they were sitting on a roof, fully suited, leaning against a wall sat under a platform to protect them from the rain pouring down, sat across from a generator radiating a gentle warmth that felt soothing against the biting air.
Or rather, Peter was leaning against a wall, while Miles was fully leaned into Peter, head against the front of his shoulder and near enough to his chest that he could clearly hear his mentor’s heartbeat. Peter had pulled him in close, arm draped across him and running his hand soothingly up and down his torso, over his ribs in smooth motions as he breathed in and out.
Honestly, Miles doesn’t know when they got so comfortable with physical touch. Of course, they had never been uncomfortable with physical touch. Well, Peter hadn’t. Miles is just… finicky, most of the time. He’s found that he’s becoming less finicky around Peter.
But the entire scene felt tender, warm, and utterly relaxing. Enough so as to fall asleep, and soon enough, he started to purr.
“Keep your eyes closed, just focus on what you’re feeling,” Peter said softly.
“Mhm…”
“But don’t fall asleep.”
“Mmm…”
“Miles.”
“Mm?”
“Wake up.”
Miles just purred even louder in response, each breath bringing a new wave of vibrations.
“Miles.” Peter suddenly tapped him on the nose, making him rear back and open his eyes in confusion. “Sorry,” he said with no apology in his voice. He continued the motions on his side, and Miles just rearranged himself, continuing his purr. Peter asked after a moment, “What does it feel like?”
“Wha’?”
Peter tapped him again, and Miles flinched farther back, sneezing and leveling him with an indignant expression behind his mask. “What the—stop!”
“Don’t lose that purr, keep it going.”
Miles groaned. He searched for the purr again, but it was gone now. “You made me lose it!”
“No, I didn’t.” Peter shuffled them in place, gently reaching for the now petulant Miles to pull him close once more, and Miles reluctantly fell back into his hold with a huff. “Search for a trigger. You’re already in the environment for it, you just have to focus on letting that muscle in your chest relax. When you think about it, you straighten it back out.”
Miles didn’t respond, instead immediately looking for the easy trigger that he knew from experience would be Peter’s heartbeat. Everything was already much easier to control than before, with these somewhat frequent sessions of theirs, but these little tips helped. As he focused on that rhythmic thump thump thump of Peter’s strong heart, he could actively encourage his muscles to relax, breathing against the melodic sensation and igniting the rumble in his chest once again. He opened his eyes to meet Peter’s lenses, pleased when the vibration only grew.
Miles couldn’t see his face, but he could imagine that Peter was smiling when he said, “Good. Good job.”
It was surprisingly easy to keep the purr steady once he focused on it, even if it did waver a bit. It was less about focusing on keeping it relaxed and more about… focusing on not focusing on it? Either way, the warm, soothing feeling that came from it only encouraged him to keep it up. “Can I go to sleep now?”
Peter just chuckled. “We can’t stay here all night.”
“But the rain isn’t stopping…”
“Then we’re going to have to go through it.”
Miles groaned loudly, the thought of leaving his comfortable, safe, spot seeming like the worst possible outcome right now. Thankfully, Peter sensed his disdain and was gracious enough to offer an alternative.
He sighed. “Do you want to hitch a ride back?”
“Yes, please.”
-
“Miles, please. I’m scared you’re gonna start choking.”
Miles steadily munches on his pizza. “How?”
“You shouldn’t purr with something in your mouth,” he says in exasperation, eyeing his protégé with concern.
Miles just purrs louder, taking a long sip of his soda and waving his hand. “I’ll be fine. Cats purr while they eat all the time.”
Peter huffs. “For the last time, you are not a cat, Miles. You can’t compare your biological systems to theirs, it doesn’t work like that.”
It’s been about two weeks since Miles got the hang of it, yet something has been nagging at the back of his mind all the while.
He didn’t really think about it at first, because they’d never brought it up, but the more they went on without Peter saying anything, the more it seemed like he was purposely not bringing it up. Of course, Peter is often just forgetful about mentioning things he doesn’t find important, so it could be nothing. But it’s kind of evident in the way Peter had gone about teaching Miles to purr, the way he skirted around offering an example or bringing in too much personal experience with it, despite seeming to know every detailed inner working of the phenomenon.
Miles has never heard Peter purr before. Never even heard him mention that he could do it.
And maybe it’s nothing! Maybe it’s just one of those things where he knows how to do it, but just doesn’t get the urge to as much as Miles. Or maybe he used to, but just not anymore.
Miles knows that Peter is especially weird about his spidery-side, so maybe he’s weird about this too? Either way, Miles’ curiosity has grown the longer he stews in his questions, and Peter doesn’t seem tense about any of it, so he probably wouldn’t oppose to Miles simply asking … right?
“Hey, Peter?”
“Hm?”
“Can you purr?”
Peter responds with silence. He doesn’t stiffen, or lean away, or clench his fists, so it doesn’t seem like the question aggravated him. He seems to just be thinking about how to respond. “I have the ability to, yes. But I don’t really do it anymore.”
Miles hums in acknowledgement. Doesn’t seem to be that big of a deal, then. He takes another sip of his drink. “Is it because you’re old?”
Peter shoots him an incredulous look, “Wha—I’m not old! And even if I was , what would that have anything to do with anything??”
“I don’t know, maybe you became jaded with age and no longer found the whimsical joys in life like you used to.”
Peter snorts, leaning back on his hand. “Purring isn’t about the ‘whimsical joys’ of life. And I’m not jaded.”
“When’s the last time you did it, then?”
Peter breathes deeply, looking up as he tries to remember, muttering to himself. “Umm, let me see… I’m twenty-four now, so then the last time I think should’ve been, uh… three years ago is too soon, so maybe, not 2016…Wait, I think it was at this one cafe where me and—”
Miles mumbles under his breath, “I coulda sworn you were thirty-eight…”
Peter snaps his head toward him, and Miles tries to hide his grin by turning away as if he hadn’t said anything.
“ No you didn’t. Stop playing.”
He shrugs. “Coulda fooled me.” Peter scoffs in such offense that it takes everything for Miles not to let out a giggle. “Seriously! I’ve literally heard you say ‘buckaroo’ unironically before. You’re lucky I didn’t immediately bump it up to fifty-five just for that.”
“Whatever. Now I’m not answering your question because you insulted me.”
“Wow, you saying me calling you old is an insult? Way to be ageist…”
“... Anyways, I remember now. The last time I purred because I was relaxed was when I was… nineteen? Nineteen. Then I remember purring after my first fight with Electro—when I had a bunch of broken limbs, a punctured lung, and muscle spasms—as some sort of messed up self-soothing tactic. It hurt like hell, but I couldn’t stop until I passed out. That was the last time.”
Miles looked down at the scene below, his chest growing a bit tight at his mentor’s admission. “And… you never did it again? Not for any reason?”
Peter simply shakes his head, not looking perturbed in the slightest. “Nope. Not that I know of.”
“But why not? You’ve felt relaxed since then, right?”
“Yeah, of course. It’s just that, uh…” Peter suddenly looks a bit nervous. “You know how I feel about some parts of this mutation, right? I told you that I’ve messed up before? Got someone hurt because of it?” Miles nods hesitantly. He knows vaguely that Peter didn’t like his spider-side all that much because he’s supposedly had bad experiences with it in the past. However, Miles has no idea what those could’ve been. He knows that it was serious enough to affect Peter for a long time, though. “Well, that happened, and I didn’t feel comfortable expressing myself like that anymore. I’ve just suppressed it so much since then that I’m not sure it still works.”
Peter doesn’t say it in a particularly upset fashion, but his words bring so much pain to Miles that he can almost feel the experience as if it were his own. Purring feels so good to him, it brings him a warm fuzzy feeling that nothing else can replicate—even more so when Peter’s the cause of it (which he has been for almost every time now).
To hear that his mentor actively forced it down so much that he apparently ‘broke’ it makes Miles’ heart squeeze in pity for the man. “Have you tried to? Or do you just not want to at all?”
“I tried a few years later, but I think it just had the opposite effect. I don’t really get the urge to, and I don’t think I’m missing out on much.”
Miles leans heavily into his side, almost putting the man off balance. “But you are . It’s great!”
Peter just chuckles, bringing his arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Well, when you figure out the cure, let me know.”
“Does it make you upset to talk about it?”
He shakes his head. “No, not anymore. Like I said, I just don’t think about it. My brain doesn’t register it as something that relates to me.” He ruffles Miles on the head as he continues to pout.
“But that’s so sad…” What in the world could’ve made Peter want to give up such an innocent thing? It’s not like he could’ve purred someone to death. And what did he even do to force it to stop? It was completely involuntary for Miles.
“Sad for you, maybe. I’m just living my life out here.”
“But don’t you want to?”
“I don’t care either way.”
“Are you just saying that to make yourself feel better over the fact that you can’t?”
“No, Miles.”
“Do you want to try again?”
“I already told you…”
“No, I mean like with help this time! I can help you!”
At that, Peter levels him with a look that Miles can’t quite decipher the meaning of. There is a hint of amusement, however, and looks somewhat positive, so he figures that he isn’t all that put off by Miles’ very serious suggestion.
Peter raises a brow with an amused smirk. “Really? And how will you do that?”
Miles looks away in thought. “Uh…Well, you just have to be relaxed, right?”
“I am relaxed, I told you that it doesn’t trigger anything for me.”
“Well I usually feel relaxed and safe. Do you feel safe, too?” Peter seems like he’s in a perpetual state of stress and borderline paranoia all the time—Miles hasn’t known him to ever be without it. Miles had only been half joking about him being old and jaded. Perhaps in all his years of being Spider-Man, Peter doesn’t quite get the feeling of everything being ‘okay’ to that extent that Miles can get in Peter’s arms. Not only is Peter always obsessing about other people’s safety, but he also has no one to protect him like Miles does. He’s always prepared for the next bad thing to happen.
“It’s… It’s more complicated than that, Miles.” Didn’t answer the question, but whatever. “I did still feel the urge to purr for a while afterwards, so there have been times where I’ve felt comfortable enough to do it, but I made myself stop.”
“How?”
Peter shrugs, looking out into the distance. “I just… it’s easier to push it down when you… relate it to bad things.”
“... Because of what you did in the past?”
“I…” His mouth opens and closes, as if trying to find the right words, and Miles backtracks.
“You don’t have to tell me, sorry.”
Peter shakes his head. “No, it’s not that. I don’t really mind telling you, but I still don’t want to actually… tell you, y’know? If that makes any sense.”
“Yeah, no, I get it. Whatever you’re comfortable with, man. We can drop it entirely if you want,” Miles suggests, looking up at him earnestly.
“It’s okay, really.” Peter sighs, taking his arm away to face Miles and clasping his hands together. Miles mourns the loss of the warmth. “What I did involved my… non-superhero related spider powers. I lost control of them. Purring, no matter how innocent, was still one of those things that I couldn’t control, and I felt guilty and ashamed whenever it happened. I felt like I shouldn’t indulge in any spidery part of me after what happened. It was just another thing to get rid of. So whenever I got the urge to do it I shoved it down by thinking of all the things I did wrong and how much I didn’t deserve it.”
Yikes.
Peter could really benefit from a therapist sometime soon. Or sometime since like, eight years ago. Does he have health insurance? Well it’s not like he goes to the doctor, so…
This just means that it’s up to Miles to try and reverse Peter’s years worth of self-conditioning all by himself.
“That’s pretty unhealthy, Peter.”
Peter just rolls his eyes. “Wow, thanks, Miles.”
He ignores the sarcasm. “I can still help you get it back, though! Now it’s just about getting you to do it again whenever you feel the—”
“I don’t have the urge, Miles,” his mentor gently interrupts. “And I still wouldn’t do it even if I did. That’s why I said it doesn’t work anymore. And that’s also why I’m okay with it, because I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything.”
“...But you still have the ability to do it?”
“In theory, yes.”
“Then can’t you, like, force it? Or something?”
“Can you force yours?”
“I’m pretty sure I could if I tried hard enough! You were really helpful in your explanations, I feel like I have way more control than before.”
Peter looks on pensively. “I’m… just not sure. Why do you want me to so bad, anyways? You just don’t want to be the only one doing it?” He looks at Miles in genuine curiosity.
Miles shrugs. “Yeah, but mostly I just want you to benefit from it like I do. You tried so hard to encourage it from me, after all.”
“Oh, you know you don’t have to do this as some sort of repayment—”
“I don’t care about repayment, Peter.” Miles looks up at him pleadingly. “Can we just try? Please? It might work!” Peter looks down at him with a narrowed gaze. They stare at each other for a good five seconds before Peter closes his eyes and sighs, and Miles knows that he’s won. A grin forms on his face. “Okay, so what do you do to relax?”
Peter groans, leaning back onto his hands. “That’s too much of a loaded question.”
“What? How?”
“Next.”
“Oh my g —okay, whatever. Um, what’s your favorite food?”
“...Can I get back to you on that?”
“Dude, just say one!”
“You sure are putting me under a lot of pressure right now for a guy trying to make me less stressed.”
Miles sighs dramatically. “What’s your favorite drink, then, Peter.”
“Water.”
“Try again.”
“Why? Are you judging my tastes?”
“Water is not your favorite drink.”
“It is! In fact, I put water in my cereal instead of milk, I like it so much.”
“...”
“... Ugh, fine, it’s lemonade.”
“Okay, what flavor?”
“What do you mean flavor? Lemon flavor.” Peter scoffs and shakes his head like Miles is just being some silly kid.
Miles takes a deep breath, trying to summon those anger suppression tactics his therapist so helpfully taught him. “Strawberry, blueberry, raspberry… like, dude, c’mon.”
“Then I think just fruit flavors.”
Miles’ eye twitches. Lemonade doesn’t have any non-fruit flavors! “What kinds of fruit, Peter?” Peter is the smartest person he knows, period. Is this man really that dense, or does he just like messing with him?
“I’d have all of them at once if I could. I actually love sweet things. And sour things.”
Now they’re getting somewhere. “Really? I didn’t think you liked sweets like that. I never see you eat them.” Miles looks up at him curiously. Peter nods.
“Mhm. Not many people know, I guess. Well, it’s not like there’s anyone to tell, but I got kind of a big sweet tooth after the bite. When May caught on she’d treat me to these gigantic, loaded sundaes with a bunch of syrup on them and stuff. Now, sweets just aren’t something I can afford to spend that much money on.”
Miles hums, an idea coming together in his mind. If purring is triggered by comfort, then why don’t they try and get all of Peter’s comfort items together at the same time? Sure, he may not get anything spidery out of it, but giving him more opportunities to at least try wouldn’t hurt, right?
Miles often purrs from a combination of things—including physical triggers. Warmth is a big factor. And for now, physical touch has been a real motivator too, even though Miles never really craved it before. Certain familiar smells and sounds, like the scent of his mother’s perfume and her, Ganke’s, and Peter’s heartbeats always triggers a pull in his chest. He thankfully hasn’t done it around his mother yet, only a few times around Ganke (though he tries not to, because it’s embarrassing), but almost never alone.
That said—if Miles can get Peter’s comfort items, then he might be able to enhance the experience for him. If he apparently loves sweets, but hasn’t had access to them, then what else doesn’t he have? Miles can get them for him! Comfort foods, comfort textures, comfort sounds, comfort lighting…
“How do you feel about chocolate?”
-
Miles sets down his bags, taking the drinks out to place in the tiny minifridge. It was a relief that the shelves were easily removable, because the thing is probably two sizes down from what ‘mini’ is supposed to look like.
Peter comes in a few moments after him, holding nothing but a backpack he’d grabbed from some random wall on their way over here. Miles looks over his shoulder at him, grinning. “It’s cleaner than I’d thought it be in here,” he says jokingly.
“Yeah, well, after your last popup visit I’ve been keeping it tidy. I don’t know why you enjoy this tiny apartment so much.” Peter sets down the backpack and begins to rummage through it, placing a few things down on the desk—a bunch of mechanical parts, some vaguely labeled flash drives, computer disks, and notepads.
“Are you about to work on something?”
“Uh, yeah. Is that okay?” he says as he looks up at Miles questioningly.
“Oh… well I have all this stuff because I kind of was maybe hoping that we could try that thing I was talking about? With purring? I just, uh… wanted to hang out and relax today. But you can work on it if you want to, I can still set this up over here.”
Miles watches as Peter looks to the cluttered desk, then to Miles on the floor, then to his bags. Miles is just about to tell him again that he doesn’t have to when Peter says, “You know what? You’re right.” He opens the drawer and haphazardly slides the materials into it, leaving Miles scrabbling to rectify it.
“No, no, Peter if you want to work on something then you should do that, you already had plans and I kind of just sprung this on you without asking and I—”
“Miles, Miles, it’s fine.” Peter flashes him an easy grin as he closes the drawer. “I’d be a good role model to show you how it’s great to take a break from work every once in a while. All I was about to do was sort everything in those drives into my newer drives.” Miles nods, understanding how tedious that process is. “And I’d suspected you’d had something going on anyways, so I didn’t schedule too much. You vaguely asked me if I was free only about a hundred times, and asked so many weird questions that I was just about to start hiding my credit cards.”
Okay, that’s a bit better, then. “They were normal questions, Peter. Like, favorite color questions.” Miles smiles and finishes with the fridge, standing to put a bag on the newly cleared desk. The only desk, besides Peter’s nightstand. Which also meant a single chair. But it’s whatever.
Miles has prepared an arrangement of different desserts for Peter to try, as well as different drinks according to what he said he’d like. Miles is completely determined to give Peter a relaxing day off, and he hopes more than anything that their spider-senses don’t go off for any reason.
He watches Peter in the corner of his eye as he sits down on the bed, watching the arrangement being laid out on the table. “Wow, that sure is, uh… a lot.”
“Yep! Me and my mom made most of it, but some of the snacks were bought with the drinks.”
“Oh…”
Miles ignores the dejected tone in his mentor’s voice, knowing how he probably feels about the fact that they went out of their way for him. When he finishes, he quickly steps over to the other bag and drops it into Peter’s lap. “Look!” He grins proudly as he gazes upon Peter’s confusion.
“Um…” Peter carefully opens the haphazardly tied grocery bag to reveal a plaid blanket, and he holds it up in front of him.
“It’s a heating blanket!”
“Oh! Thank you, I’m trying to save on my electricity a bit so it might only last a little while so—”
“It’s already charged for you, no electricity needed.”
“Ah, double thanks, then.”
Miles goes over to pour him a drink—some weird brand of lemonade that Miles tried once and almost threw out because of the odd mix of tropical flavors and oversaturation of sugar. ‘It’s on the markets for someone’, he’d thought. Maybe that person was Peter.
“Here you go!” Peter had just been awkwardly straightening out the blanket over his lap when he takes the offered cup. “Get comfortable, lay back or something, don’t sit there looking all stiff,” he says, trying to bring the cover over him more.
Peter gives a breathy laugh accompanied by a small shake of his head, nevertheless pushing himself back to lean back in a relaxed manner. “What now?”
“Drink the thing.”
“The thing?” He looks in his cup with an eyebrow raised. “And what is it exactly?”
“Lemonade. It’s really sweet.”
“Hm…” He swishes it around a bit, seeming to be inspecting it, before taking a small sip.
Miles turns around to quickly fix a plate with one of everything; including some random stuff from the store, and some homemade things like a lemon cookie, some tres leches, arroz con leche, and a slice of tembleque. He may have gone a bit overboard, stressing about Peter’s odd food requirements, but his mom had come to offer tips and suggestions, and they’d eventually had a fun time making everything together. And the result? A true feast. They may have actually gone a bit overboard, but his mom was still delighted to do something for Peter, who has never accepted any gifts from her ever.
Miles turns around to find, with shock, Peter gulping down the remaining drops inside of the tall mug they’d used. He’d only turned his back for like, three seconds! “I’m guessing you liked it?” he asks, grinning with a soft laugh.
Peter wipes his mouth. “What is that? That has to be one of the best drinks I’ve ever tasted in my life. What flavor is it? What’s the brand?” he asks Miles with a terribly expectant look on his face that makes his protégé laugh louder.
“It’s like, pineapple, grape, kiwi, papaya or something crazy like that. Some no name brand.”
“Everything has a brand name, Miles, just not everything is a name brand.”
“Well then it was just something with a very forgettable name. I’ll give you the bottle later,” Miles promises with a laugh in his voice, taking the cup to refill.
When Peter takes it back, Miles takes that chance to help turn on the blanket and drape it (properly) over Peter’s form.
“Can I sit next to you?” he asks, motioning to the bed.
Peter scoots over without a word up against the corner of the wall. Miles sits with one leg dangling off the bed as he faces his mentor with the plate between them, pointing to the desserts and listing them off.
“Oh, wow. It looks good. But you know I’m—”
“Lactose intolerant, yeah, yeah. It doesn’t have dairy in it! Trust me, we looked up a bunch of alternatives and this was the best combination. And they even have the weird textures like you asked.” Miles grins proudly.
“Okay, I didn’t say ‘weird textures’ exactly, but thank you. This is very considerate.”
The evening goes on with them quietly chatting about everything and nothing, Peter thankfully loved their dishes, and Miles watched as he apparently decided on a favorite, as he’d contentedly finished the entire bowl of rice pudding. Granted, it wasn’t that much, but normally people don’t eat it as an entire meal…
“Uh… do you want me to make more of that for you? In the future?”
“No, you guys don’t have to. I’m grateful enough for this,” he says as he scrapes the bottom of the bowl with his spoon. The other desserts were left on the nightstand, and Miles takes them to wrap up.
Miles has been feeling more and more relaxed as the time went on. Though they do end up sharing moments like this sometimes, it’s always been in a bustling space, or one of them was busy with something, or there was simply too much stimulation around for it to feel ‘quiet’ like this. The other times Miles had come to Peter’s apartment, it’d been solely to work on things for Spider-Man, or helping him with his homework. But here they are, having kept up this soothing environment with nothing taking up the space but themselves, for the better part of…
“Um… what time is it?” Peter gestures to his own phone on the nightstand. His alarm clock had run out of batteries, and it doesn’t seem like he’s replaced them since he told Miles that a two weeks ago. Miles grabs it and checks the time, surprised to find it 11pm. “Shit!”
“Language.”
He ducks his head. “Sorry… um, but I have to go soon, I think. Or I should at least call my mom. Wait, has she not called me?” He looks around for his phone, but before he can grab it off the desk across the room, Peter speaks up.
“I already told her you’d be staying a little later, and she said it was fine if you stayed the night.”
Miles blinks. “Oh.”
Peter looks a little uncertain at Miles’ response. “Did… you still want to stay?”
Miles tilts his head in confusion. “Have you asked me already?”
“Yes… I said ‘hey, would you want to stay the night’, and you said sure. I asked because I was texting with your mom. I think I told you that.”
“Ohhh, yeah I thought you meant like, hypothetically.”
“Why would I hypothetically ask you if you wanted to stay the night?”
“Uhh because you used the conditional tense which made me think you were talking about an imaginary future situation?”
Peter chuckles dryly in exasperation, running a hand down his face. “Okay, so do you want to stay or not? Sorry if I confused you, even though I thought I was pretty clear–”
“No, you—”
“ —but if you really want to go then I can take you back,” he offers.
Miles looks around at the tiny studio. His mom probably wouldn’t like the idea of him going out at night, but there’s not many places to sleep except the bed and the floor… but honestly, now that he’s thinking about sleep, he finds himself to be extremely tired. He shakes his head. “I’ll stay.”
“Cool.” Peter grabs his bowl and makes to get up, but is interrupted when Miles springs up to stop him.
“Wait! Don’t get up, let me wash it for you.” He takes the bowl before Peter can respond. “Are you feeling relaxed? More so than usual?”
Peter huffs in amusement. “Yes, thank you.”
“So, did you want more pudding? I can give you some on Monday, we still have everything we need to make it.”
“No, I–”
“Please, Peter? Please, please, please, that was like my second time ever making it by myself and I’m really proud of it and I really want you to have some more so I can try a different recipe because there were a bunch of different ones for lactose intolerant people like you and you need to taste test them all,” Miles pleads, only kind of exaggerating in order to get Peter to accept more food from them.
Desserts are fine and all, but Miles was only able to take the shelves out of the mini-fridge because there had been nothing in it. And virtually nothing in the cabinets. And a single pack of ramen on the counter. The fruit bowl’s filled with random tech bits. There was a single half eaten pickle in the pickle jar.
Basically, Peter has no food period.
So if he starts by accepting their desserts, then maybe they could finally work him up to accepting the home cooked meals his mom has been trying to force upon him. Thinking about it, Miles has never even seen Peter eat here, only ever when they eat out after patrol.
When Peter says nothing, Miles looks down with a face of utter rejection and disappointment.
Which, as predicted, is what gets the man to relent. “Fine, okay. There’s absolutely no reason to be so insistent about these things…” he mutters more to himself, shaking his head. Miles beams at him, and heads over to the sink.
Once everything’s done, Miles comes over to the bed where Peter leans back against the wall and hops up, feeling the warmth of the blanket and pleased with the sent of nutmeg and fruit wafting throughout the space. Peter gazes at him, and as Miles meets his eyes, he grins. “Is that everything? Is the day over?”
Miles just scoots over to lie into his side. “Did it relax you?”
It takes a second for him to respond. “It did, thank you. The dessert was great, and I love the heated blanket.”
Peter says he’s relaxed, but he’s not purring. Obviously it wouldn’t take a single night to undo everything, but Miles had tried very hard to get him into a state where he hopefully felt happy and safe. After interrogating the man, he’d found out that he loved sweets, was lactose intolerant (which nearly knocked almost every dessert out of the running), and for some reason liked foods with weird textures.
Or, as he put it, foods that are both solid and non-solid at the same time. Blegh. Soft foods with hard things in them are Miles’ mortal enemy—he doesn’t even like arroz con leche that much. But at least that and the other foods had turned out to be a hit with his mentor.
Miles got more comfortable in Peter’s space, the warmth slowly dragging him under. Peter pulls the cover over them and naturally maneuvers them into a position where Miles’ head rests against the front of his shoulder, hand gently running up and down his upper arm.
Miles absently stares at the threads of Peter’s shirt, wondering. “So you didn’t feel anything at all?”
“...No. I’m sorry.”
“Do you… at least feel like this is a time where you would’ve had the urge to purr back then? When you still could?”
It takes Peter a bit longer to answer this time, and his soothing motions slow. When they stop, Miles leans back a little to meet his eyes, and Peter’s expression is unreadable to him. Similar to on the roof when he’d first suggested they try this. Not a negative look, but more passive seeming. And... fond? Regretful? He doesn’t seem to be looking at the boy, but just thinking about something very deep in the recesses of his mind.
“I think so, yeah.” He brings his hand up, slowly guiding to press his thumb lightly upon Miles’ pulse, just over his carotid. It’s not a totally unfamiliar feeling, as Peter often likes to check his pulse whenever Miles takes a particularly nasty hit or fall (regardless of whether he’s okay or not) but it still feels a bit weird nonetheless. And Miles really doesn’t like when doctors put their hands there during examinations.
Yet, it’s weirdly soothing for Miles to feel his own heartbeat reflected to him from the man’s fingertips.
Perhaps Miles’ heart could be a trigger for Peter like his is for him? “Are you taking your own advice right now? Trying to find the trigger, relaxing the muscles..?” Miles asks, peering up at him. Peter’s eyes dart down, and his hold slips a little. Miles instinctively leans into it, imploring it to stay, so it does.
Peter’s voice sounds weary now. “I can’t. I’m trying, it just… I…” Now his mentor looks truly sad, and that just won’t do. Miles shuffles again, futilely trying to reach over the bed to grab the plate with the two cookies on it without leaving the man's side. Peter, ever the savior, uses his web shooter to snag the edge of the plate and pull it towards them. Miles grabs a cookie, beaming despite his tired state, and puts it in front of Peter’s face expectantly. Peter liked the cookies (that Miles had also made all by himself!), so he’s a bit confused when his mentor just stares at it.
“Here!” he says, waving it a bit. Peter takes it, a ghost of a smile beginning to form on his face, and Miles grins triumphantly. Cookies make everything better.
But Peter doesn’t take a bite. Instead, he goes, smile still on his face, “You know you have like, a bunch of different purrs?”
“Huh?”
“You’ve been purring for the past half-hour. It changed again just now.”
“What? I’m not…” He checks, and—oh. He is purring! “Oh.”
“I love it.”
Huh? “What?”
“Your purr. I think it’s the single most best sound I have ever heard in all my years of living. I can’t get enough of it.” Peter’s grin widens as he takes a bite of his cookie. He finishes it before Miles has found the words to respond, and he ends up bringing them back together, this time in a proper hug. “You’re so sweet. Thank you for this.”
Miles scrunches his nose a bit and pulls away to their position before, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the genuine sappiness. “‘M not sweet…”
Peter chuckles, but Miles doesn't know what's funny. “I’ll try, okay?”
“Try what?”
“For you, I’ll try my best to get it back, okay?”
“...Oh. Oh, yeah, that’s great! This time wasn’t all that, but I already have another plan in mind that we can put into motion, I swear.”
Peter’s face is lit with a smile, and he chuckles at his protégé's sudden enthusiasm. “Looking forward to it.”