Chapter Text
It’s been a long day. Shock, it’s been a long week.
Anomalies never let up…
Just when everything seems to be going steady, another hiccup in the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse never fails to keep the spider-people on their toes.
The last thing Miguel O’Hara needs right now, is a technological shut down… and that’s exactly what he’s received.
“Lyla! Diagnostics!” Miguel yells. His holographic screens glitch and static fills the computers.
Lyla glitches herself, only parts of her speech remain intact as her A.I. body splits into numerous bits and pixels.
“Really, trying here, Miguel—not-not-not looking good—” Lyla’s natural orange aura fades pink then red. “I’m gonna have to-to restart the whole sys-sys-system.”
Miguel rolls his tired eyes with a groan. He pinches the bridge of his nose, hoping the headache would dwindle under his intense applied pressure. It doesn’t.
“How long will that take?” Miguel mutters.
“Not-Not-Not sure.” Lyla’s head is the only visible part of her A.I. body, the rest aren’t rendering properly. “The entire place will be on-on-on lockdo-down. I-I’ll notify the society so they can find their wa-ways home if-if-if they—”
“Yeah, got it, just hurry up, please?” Miguel waves through Lyla’s space walking through her jumble of animated pieces.
“You realize that means your suit will be—”
Silence.
Looks like Lyla gave out.
A notification pops up on Miguel’s watch, meaning the message got out to the rest of the spider society. Good. In just a few moments, the entire building will go into lockdown. At least Miguel will be able to work in utter solitude for a little before the system is able to reboot—
“Hey, Miguel! You’ll never believe who I had to catch on Earth-12041! I mean he wasn’t an anomaly, but the local spider called for back-up, anyway—”
“Ugh, are you shocking serious…” Miguel grimaces. “Peter, what the hell are you doing here? Didn’t you get the memo—”
“—and then I had to drive him up the Peterson building just to get him to look me in the eyes and say—hey, what’s wrong with your suit, Miguel?” Peter swings just beside Miguel’s halted platform. While Peter’s spider suit and his pink robe remain despite him being on a mission, he at least didn’t have his bunny slippers or Mayday with him.
Miguel watches as his suit glitches into all sorts of colors and shapes. Patches of his skin reveal itself and he groans in annoyance as he watches most of his suit dissipate. He raises his arms up at the strange feeling of static rubbing against his ribs and biceps.
“Ugh…¿Por qué a mí?” Miguel grumbles lowly.
The lights to HQ shut off and the sounds of all the equipment whirr offline.
“Woah, woah, what’s going on?” Peter stumbles around, trying to navigate through the dark.
“The system’s offline, the lights should turn on from the backup electrical system soon, but the entire place is shut down until all the connections are scrubbed clean.” Miguel says plainly over his shoulder. “You should’ve gotten the notice.”
“Oh… that’s what that meant.” Peter taps his watch and chuckles nervously as he sees the emergency message from Lyla blinking in all caps.
Miguel rolls his eyes again and doesn’t bother watching the rest of his suit disappear. He grabs a nearby tablet, one he doesn’t need to be connected to the system and one that he hasn’t used in a while.
Peter turns around to the only current source of light in the office… Miguel’s rapidly blinking suit. He shields his eyes from the brightness and carefully makes his way closer to the lights. “Hey, uh, I don’t know if you noticed but your suit is…” Peter’s eyes wander lower and lower and notices the line of Miguel’s back travel lower and lower… “…woah…” Peter stops in his tracks. His brilliant but small brain short-circuits at the sight of Miguel’s bare skin being exposed.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just ignore it.” Miguel waves Peter off, not even bother to look at him as he focuses down on the tablet in his hands.
“I-Ignore it?” Peter starts up a joke but shuts himself up when he watches the suit vanish just as the lights in the office flicker on. Tanned and toned back hold shoulders wider than Peter’s entire stature. Those muscles on that back are something to gawk at, and of course, Peter is. That line on Miguel’s back slim down to his itty-bitty waist and Peter feels his heart in his ears. Damn those long legs…
Silence.
Miguel barely looks up after the lights turn on. He doesn’t need to look up to know the computers won’t be working any time soon. He types on the tablet trying to navigate through the spider society database to—
It’s way too quiet.
“I don’t need spider senses to know you’re staring at me, Parker.” Miguel sends a glare over his shoulder.
Peter laughs it off awkwardly, hoping Miguel didn’t catch him staring at his— “I mean come on, you’re standing there practically naked—”
“I’m not naked.” A flicker of fang poking through Miguel’s lips is enough warning. “My suit is connected to the system.”
“Right, yeah, the briefs are definitely something but, dude, seriously, how can I not joke about this?” Peter grins as he slowly makes his way closer, his hands gesturing in a common New York fashion. “Like, come on, big scary Miguel O’Hara standing there in his underwear! Ha!” Peter continues to come up with underwear puns much to Miguel’s dismay. “Hey, where’s Lyla? She would be having a ball!”
“She’s rebooting.”
“Rebooting? She does that?”
Miguel’s eyes can’t seem to catch a break, they’re always on the roll. “I would tell you to leave but you can’t. The building’s on lockdown.”
“Right.” Peter stops just a few steps away from Miguel and looks at the closed doors behind him. He yawns and stretches. A few days of being Spider-Man combined with being a dad is a no sleeping gig. “Are you not cold?”
Peter only receives a grunted response. Peter shrugs, unsure of that answer, but knows it’s the best he’s going to get.
Peter tries not to stare, he really does, but damn… He’s certainly a sight to see… It’s kind of… emasculating?
“Peter…” Miguel murmurs, knowing he’s being stared at again.
“Sorry!” Peter’s voice cracks and he clears his throat. “Sorry! Sorry! I-I was just…” He sighs before stumbling over his words. He gives up and just mumbles his sentence under his breath.
“What?”
“How long until the system’s up and running again?” Peter repeats.
“Not sure.”
“Huh, okay, uh…” Peter finds a frog in his throat, and he feels his heart quicken. That’s odd. He hasn’t felt this anxious since he met MJ. “Would uh…. Would you like to borrow my robe?”
“What?” Miguel winces and almost steps away from Peter as if he wasn’t several feet away.
“Just to borrow! Just until the system is up and running and until, you know, your suit comes back.” Peter smiles as he peels off his fluffy robe.
Miguel stares at Peter with an intense glare he hopes will evaporate the man. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have that ability. His eyes fall to the garment splayed in Peter’s hands for only a second before he squints back up at Parker.
“You really think it would fit me?” Miguel says with a sarcastic snide.
“Oh, please, you’re not that much bigger than me.” Peter waves Miguel off, but his smile dies down as Miguel takes two steps up to him, completely towering over him with a raised brow.
Peter’s nervous swallow was enough tell-tale sign of how much restraint he had to gather to not just flat-out stare at the other man’s huge chest. His eyes move back and forth between Miguel’s red irises.
“Okay, so maybe you’re a little taller than me, but I like to get my clothes oversized, so I think it’ll be a perfect fit!” Peter pushes the robe toward Miguel again and gives the man a dumb grin he knows will work. If it works on MJ, it should work on Miguel!
Huh, that’s an interesting thought that Peter chooses not to divulge further into at the moment.
Miguel sighs in defeat and takes the robe. He observes it and holds it up away from him to see it all.
Peter lets out a relieved breath and steps away. Another yawn finds him again and this time, Peter feels the weight of all his previous encounters today to crush him.
“Hey, do you have like a sofa, or something?” Peter stretches as he finds his way over to a very small piece of cushioned furniture that he would categorize as a sofa, just not one from his dimension. “Just gonna rest for a bit, ya know, just for however long it takes for the system…” Peter doesn’t bother finishing that sentence as he falls victim to yet another yawn.
Miguel opens his mouth to scold the man but discerns that it’s probably useless to try. He looks at the robe again with a scowl. His grip around the fabric tightens just as he feels a shiver up his exposed spine. He sighs.
“¿Qué estoy haciendo?” He slumps his taught shoulders and looks to the ceiling in a furrowed ponder. He mutters swears under his breath as he turns the robe and slips his arms through the armholes. He cringes at himself. He can’t believe he’s actually doing this.
He adjusts the neck and the front areas of the robe, so it’s laid out nicely. He looks down at himself feeling absolutely ridiculous… but extremely comfortable. The sleeves are a little tight and the chest region won’t close all the way. The bottom hem of the robe barely go past his knees, but damn if he wasn’t already warming up. It’s very… fuzzy…
Peter was right… if Lyla were here… she would be throwing a fit. Good thing she isn’t.
Miguel tries to get back to work, searching for whatever it was he was searching for earlier. He absentmindedly ties the front of the robe closed just to feel a little more clothed. It helped. It added a bit more security. Despite the robes tight squeeze, it actually felt quite…soothing.
One of Miguel’s desktops flash on after a few static surges. None of the other equipment are near restarting and rebooting so it looks like this older model was able to get enough power to it. Miguel makes do with what he has. He stands the tablet up and types away at his desktop to get an open view of the building schematics.
He stands and stares and takes notes when he can. He’s trying to come up with plans so that this system shut down doesn’t happen in the future. He thinks and thinks and thinks.
Then he blinks. He startles himself out his trance. Usually, Lyla does that, but this time, he was able to catch himself and he catches his breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He looks down at himself, forgetting about Peter’s robe.
Then he feels his claws retract.
“Huh?” Miguel pulls his hands back from his crossed arms. He feels a pressure on his arms lessen. Oh. He was doing it again…
Whenever Miguel gets stuck in his own little headspace, his claws would retract like a safety mechanism… or a coping mechanism… one of the two. He’d always snap himself out of his thoughts when those sharp claws of his pierce his skin, drawing blood.
This time, however, there was no piercing of skin, and no drawing of blood. This time… those nails only felt the cushioned fabric of Peter’s robe… and it felt… nice.
Miguel pulled the fabric to see if he scratched it up or poked holes through it. He didn’t. The robe is pretty thick. Hm. Fitting.
Miguel protracts his claws slowly. He pushes his clawed hands into the biceps of his crossed arms and he starts to… squeeze and retract…squeeze and retract…
Miguel hums and relaxes into it. It felt nice. Like a massage. It even felt stimulating on his talons. He even closes his eyes to his rhythm. He hasn’t felt this kind of relief in a long time. This kind of reminds him of something…
He stops.
He looks down at his hands and looks around his office, as if anyone else were there and shyly puts his hands back on his arms to continue… kneading…
Another 10 minutes pass by with no system reboot and Miguel actually feels less stressed than when this started.
He slides his right hand up to his left shoulder and he squeezes, easing the tension on his upper back. He taps away with his left hand and leans on one leg. He rotates his head and neck and ends up getting a whiff of Peter’s scent off the robe.
“Hmm…” Miguel’s eyes fall to a close, his furrowed brow easing.
Lights flicker and machines rile up with their symphony of beeps. Miguel takes a startled step back as a bunch of holographic screens pop up without warning. Schematics of the building start to glow green and it looks like everything is up and running again.
“Phew! That took a while, but everything is under control—is that a robe?” Lyla’s signature A.I. model staggers around and stops just in front of Miguel’s surprised face with her own interested grin.
“Uh, no!” Miguel unravels himself and stands up straight as if he wasn’t just coddling himself a few moments ago. “No, this is uh…” Miguel looks down at the robe and unties the front. He watches as his own blue spider suit materializes through its array of bright pixels and graphics, under Peter’s robe.
“Is that Peter’s robe?” Lyla smirks.
“No! It’s not! It’s—”
“Then why is there a little tag on the back that says Peter B. Parker?” Lyla pokes and pulls at the little tag attached to the back of the robe’s neckline.
Miguel swipes at Lyla making her fade away, but she of course, reappears. Miguel groans and rolls his eyes.
“Just, shut up and go away.” Miguel steps down from his platform and starts to peel the robe off from his body. “Peter!” He calls out and takes a turn. He follows the sound of snoring. “Peter?”
There, lying down and fast asleep, Peter is splayed across a make-shift sofa.
Miguel, of course, rolls his eyes, and approaches the sleeping spider. “Peter, hey, the system’s up and running.” Miguel leans over and tries to gently shake Peter awake.
“Mm—five more minutes, Aunt May…” Peter mumbles tiredly as he turns around, back facing Miguel and goes back to sleep.
Miguel raises a confused brow but doesn’t try to wake Peter again. Instead, he just… stands there… and watches the man breathe.
“Are you not going to wake him up?” Lyla says a bit too loud for Miguel’s liking.
“Shh!” Miguel holds up a finger to his lips, shushing Lyla. He realizes what he did… only a bit too late after Lyla realizes.
“Did you just shush me for Peter?” That holographic smirk is a whole lot of real.
“What? No! I—” Miguel whispers harshly.
“So you’re gaslighting me?”
“No!”
Silence.
Lyla smiles widely at Miguel and Miguel only gives her his signature scowl.
“Should I leave you two alone?” Lyla jokes, blowing small pixelated hearts toward Miguel.
“Cállate!” Miguel lunges at Lyla, only for her to flee. She teleports away with a cocky giggle. “Ugh…”
Miguel leans over Peter’s sleeping person and carefully drapes the robe over him. He fixes it so it covers most of Peter’s body and he waits just a few more seconds before making his way back to his screens.
“Aw, that was sweet.”
“Shut up, Lyla.”