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[nostalgiabomb]

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[animated]

And what do you call what just happened like ten seconds ago?

[nostalgiabomb]

What, I can't be concerned that you'll try to take another swing at me?

[animated]

[ Charlie gives him a flat look.

And takes a big step towards Peter. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ fuck fuck what the fuck is he doing--

Peter tries to put distance between them and only succeeds in walking straight into the bulkhead, and he bites out a curse--

And that warmth grows, twists and spins in his chest, coils up into his throat-- ]

Get the fuck away from me. [ It's half-choked out, but it doesn't have any of the same sharpness as before. ]

[animated]

[ He doesn't move any closer, but neither does he move away ]

See? You're panicking.

[ And for a moment, he just looks... sad, because it shouldn't be this way. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He flinches when he sees that expression on Charlie's face, and guilt mixes in with that weird cocktail of emotions swirling in him.

Peter still doesn't know how to explain whatever the fuck this is. He doesn't have a name for it, doesn't have any reasoning for it. All he knows is that there's a significance here he doesn't want to face.

Thirty-five fucking years old, and he's as terrified now as he was when he was a kid, sitting outside Gramps' cabin in the middle of the night, scared of what could be out there.

He has no goddamn clue what to say, so he stares at the flooring and waits. Maybe if he waits long enough, the guy will just-- leave. ]

[animated]

I want you to understand something about me, Peter. I don't pretend. I don't lie to myself.

I have no idea why- but I need you. I feel like half a person when you're not around.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Jesus, this guy doesn't beat around the bush, does he? Peter winces again, and some phantom thing wraps around his ribs, uncomfortable but not painful. He grips his shirt and tries to breathe through it, feels heat flickering in his chest, warm but not hot.

But Peter does lie; he does pretend. So he tells himself this feeling isn't pleasant. He pretends that it doesn't mean anything. The rooftop -- that was a fluke. The light -- some stupid biological quirk.

That-- that feeling of completeness--

-- Just some stupid daydream after meeting another human after decades and decades of separation.

He wipes blood away from his upper lip, sniffs as the bleeding from his nose slows to a trickle.

It's just too fucking bad his lies to himself are so fucking obvious. ]

... Yeah.

[ It's a sorry excuse for an admission, to be sure, but it's hard won against the icy panic and denial pooling in his gut. He can't bring himself to look up from the floor, though; anything more than that one word feels like too much. ]

[animated]

[ He had no idea he was tense until Peter makes that small admission, gives just that little bit of ground. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and takes half a step closer ]

We should probably get you cleaned up.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He can't help but tense a little, but he forces himself to relax. ]

... Yeah, probably.

[ He doesn't fight it this time, when Charlie moves toward him -- just lets that pressure constrict around his chest, lets that heat bloom, and--

fuck it's amazing why has he been ignoring it all this time holy shit holy shit

-- it's not bliss, he realizes. It's a feeling of contentment, of being whole, of solving a riddle after realizing the answer has been staring you in the face all along.

He still doesn't know what it fucking means, but-- after finally letting himself to admit to something, he realizes he sort of wants to find out. ]

[animated]

[ He moves past Peter to gather a few things, and comes back with a damp rag. Oh-so-gingerly he wipes the blood from Peter's face.

God, it feels good to be this close, though poor Peter looks like hell ]

Sorry about the whole... thing. At the bar.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He just breathes, and even with that whatever-it-is wrapped around his chest, it feels like he's taking his first full breath in weeks. ]

It's fine. [ A beat, ] Kinda deserved it, anyway.

[animated]

Just a little.

[ but he says it with a small smile, running his fingers along Peter's jaw where he punched him earlier. ] I didn't think I'd actually land a hit on you.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He hums quietly. ] Good right hook. You've been practicing.

[ He can't help it -- he leans into Charlie's touch, lets his eyes slip closed, and it's like the warehouse all over again. He lets that warmth and contentment overtake him, and for the time being, he can forget about the way his body aches. ]

[animated]

You say that like I didn't already know how to throw a punch.

[ With the blood cleaned up, Charlie tends to whatever cuts and scrapes he can. He's quick about it, and when he's done, he pauses to brush his fingers through Peter's hair. ]

So, what now?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He hesitates -- he can't help that either. He's already given away a whole lot more than he'd ever intended to, tonight, and he wonders -- is it too late to reel it back in? Is it too late to pull out of this nosedive and pretend this didn't happen?

He could, he thinks. It'd be a really fucking shitty move, but he could.

... oh fuck it. ]

I'm not human. [ He says it before he loses the nerve, and even then he says it quietly and quickly. ]

I mean-- I'm half-human. On my mom's side. Haven't found out what my dad is. Was.

Figure you should-- probably know.

[animated]

[ Charlie blinks a little- he wasn't exactly expecting that, but it certainly doesn't bother him. ]

Is that where the whole... glowing thing came from?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He nods. ] Think so, anyway. I mean, Mom--

[ He's about to tell Charlie about mom's stories about the man in question but stops himself. Those are cards he hasn't shown anyone in his time out in the galaxy. He still doesn't think he wants to. ]

-- I just-- figured an explanation on the freaky, glowy, light front was kind of overdue. [ He swallows and licks his lips, mindful of scabbed-over cut, there. ]

Can't tell you what the fuck it is though. Or what it does. Or what it means. Could even be nothing.

[animated]

[ He knows there's more there, given the way Peter stops himself. But he'll take whatever small pieces Peter is willing to give- this is a process, and he knows that.

It's actually sort of reassuring to learn. It means whatever happened- that was biology, not some magic spell.

He places a hand on Peter's chest. ] Does it feel like nothing?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He takes a slow breath in and looks at Charlie through hooded eyes. ]

Pretty sure you're doin' that just to fuck with me, now.

[animated]

[ Charlie lets out a small, breathy laugh ]

Do you want me to stop?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Immediately, although he says it sort of lazily, ] I'll kick your ass if you do.

[animated]

[ He laughs again, though this time the sound is low and content. ] There's been enough ass-kicking for one night, I think.

[ Peter is still too damn tall, so Charlie has to get up on his toes a bit to press a light kiss to the corner of Peter's mouth, mindful of his cuts and bruises. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Ah, yes, this is quite a height deficit to overcome. ]

You're too damn short.

[ -- which is all the warning Charlie will get before Peter pulls him closer, dipping down to kiss him fully. ]

[animated]

[ He should probably take offense to that, or at least pretend to, but he really doesn't give a fuck. Not with Peter kissing him. It's easy to forget how angry he was earlier in the face of that feeling- pure, warm contentment- crashing over him like waves. ]