the reconciliation
Miguel dreamt of her. He always hated sleeping- tried to avoid it, because he dreamt of his daughter every time.
Her smile, getting ice cream after a game, letting her do his makeup, falling asleep on the couch.
Then she was crying in his arms while the world around them was literally falling apart, small hands gripping him as she begged for help.
Miguel woke up with tears blurring his vision. As he took in a deep, shuddering breath, the familiar scent of pancakes filled his lungs.
It was morning. MJ was usually up, making pancakes with May propped on her hip. Peter would be still sleeping in their bedroom.
Once his vision cleared, Miguel saw that all was how it was supposed to be- MJ was making pancakes and Peter was asleep, if the loud snoring was any indication.
The only thing wrong was that he was on the couch, and not in bed. Why was he on the couch?
He thought back to yesterday-
Yesterday.
Shit.
“Morning, sleeping beauty.” MJ said from the kitchen. Miguel’s eyes darted to her, taking her in. Her red hair was piled atop her head in the messiest bun imaginable, under eyes puffy from sleep.
“Hungry?” She asked, expertly flipping a pancake and adding it to the large stack.
Miguel wasn’t quite ready to be verbal yet, only nodding as MJ glanced back at him for an answer.
“How many?”
He held up a four.
“Sheesh. Four pancakes comin’ up! May says good morning, by the way.” Miguel’s gaze fixated on the little redhead, who babbled excitedly at him.
Peter emerged from the bedroom, leaning on the doorframe as he let out a loud yawn.
“Morning, Peter.”
“Hnnrhh.”
He stretched, shirt riding up to expose his soft belly- something Miguel always liked seeing.
When he fully opened his eyes and noticed Miguel staring at him, he seemed to shrink into himself. His face drooped , sporting an expression that resembled a guilty dog.
“Pancakes?” MJ asked, already piling two onto a plate, drowning them in syrup.
“Twoples,” Peter mumbled out groggily, shuffling to the kitchen counter and settling himself into a seat.
He was obviously ignoring Miguel. He knew because Peter would always shuffle over to him to press a sloppy kiss on his cheek. It put him off that he didn’t. It was different- it was wrong.
“Come get your cakes, Miggy.” MJ called, sliding his plate across the counter. Miguel wanted to eat where he was, but there was a definitive rule in the Parker household: No eating on the couch. It’s only two years old and we can’t afford a new one that nice.
So Miguel got up, dragging himself to the counter for breakfast. He avoided Peter’s eyes, staring at the granite and shoving a forkful of pancake into his mouth.
He finished as quickly as possible, wolfing down his food so he could help feed Mayday and let MJ have time to eat. He earned a kiss for that.
He could feel Peter’s gaze on him, intense and full of remorse. He knew Peter was more than sorry for yesterday’s argument, and he felt a pang of guilt in his own heart.
Peter only meant well. Miguel knew that, but sometimes his desire to love him and know everything about him to fix what needed to be was overwhelming.
He appreciated it, deep down, but he wasn’t able to handle it just yet. Peter’s love was a harsh and unforgiving thing, towering waves in the ocean crashing over him and pulling him to the depths. Sometimes he felt like he was drowning.
MJ, ever the keen observer, finished her food as quickly as she could before getting up and grabbing Mayday, who whined in protest. “Shhh, mama’s bringing your food to your room- this is the only time you get to do this, kid.”
She smiled at the two men, giving Peter a playful wink before ushering May into her nursery.
The sudden silence made Miguel want to bash his skull against the countertop, but instead he opted for fixing a glare on Peter, which was probably worse.
“Um, can we… talk?”
Miguel nodded.
Peter fidgeted with his fingers, avoiding the other’s gaze. “You don’t have to say anything- I just want you to listen for a sec.”
Another nod. Peter cleared his throat.
“Phew- okay. Here we go. So, first and foremost, I wanna apologize- for yesterday. I didn’t have a right to be so upset with you. You’re the big boss man of Spider Society and you’ve got a lot on your plate, you’re under a lot of pressure and it’s making you crack. I should’ve understood that and left you alone. I realize I can be a bit overbearing, so I won’t pry anymore- if you really wanna share something, I’ll let you come to me and say it.”
Peter was clearly nervous, fingers rapidly tapping the granite, his leg bouncing erratically- his other hand was nearly yanking at his hair.
Miguel wished he could speak and put him at ease, let him know that he also overreacted and hurt Peter with his words- and that he felt sorry about the coffee machine, but speaking felt too overwhelming at the moment; his tongue felt as if it was made out of lead, and his brain couldn’t seem to formulate the right words.
Still, he tried, and grew frustrated when all he could muster was a mmm sound.
Peter looked at him with a quirked brow, realizing he was trying to speak and started frantically waving his hands, “It’s okay! You don’t need to say anything.
But I want to, Miguel thought. I want to tell you it’s okay- tell you that I love you.
Instead, Miguel sat down on the stool next to him and awkwardly reached an arm out to wrap it around his shoulders, squeezing gently.
He didn’t really like physical touch at that moment, but he felt Peter needed it. And he was right, because the man practically melted into him, sighing in relief.
“I hope this means you forgive me.”
Miguel nodded. Peter smiled and snuck in a kiss on his cheek.
“Did you boys make up?” MJ asked as she walked out with Mayday, whose face and hands were sticky with syrup.
“I think we did.” Peter said, wrapping an arm around Miguel’s waist. MJ walked past the counter and to the sink, running the water over a rag.
“Good, because we need to talk about that coffee machine.”