Everything's Fine (Marvel Fanfic)

Chapter Seven

It was the first time in a long time that Peter woke up in a good mood. It's not to say that he wasn't hungover. He was. But beneath the usual hangover symptoms and the craving for hair of the dog, he felt good. Relaxed. Safe.

He was tucked under the thick, fluffy comforters and nestled comfortably against Loki's bare chest. Loki was awake, running his fingers down Peter's spine. For a sleepy half-second, Peter let himself be happy. He knotted his legs around Loki's and leaned up, locking lips and sliding his tongue into the god's mouth. Loki's hands cupped his ass. Peter ground against him. They probably would have had sex if Loki hadn't decided to speak when the kiss broke off.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, husband."

And there it was, that vile word. That reminder of the night before. Of things being out of order. Peter drew away and wrapped his unhappiness around him like a cloak. A wall went back up between them.

"Don't call me that." He got out of bed and went to the bathroom. Loki had apparently sprayed air freshener, so it now smelled like vomit and roses. He popped more pills, washed his face, took a leak, gathered his dirty clothes. He came back in with all his things and went through his bag, grabbing clean clothes to wear.

"Does May know about all the medications you're on?" Loki was still on the bed, naked as his birthing day and calm as can be. Peter froze, trying to figure out how much Loki knew.

"If you're going to lecture me about what I'm on, I can call my lawyer right now about a divorce."

"Peter." Loki actually sounded hurt. "...What are you taking?"

"Not your fucking business."

"I didn't see anything. But I'm not deaf, I heard the bottles rattling."

"We're not having this conversation." He finished pulling on his clothes. "Get dressed. You promised me a scramble."

Loki let the illusion drop. He was fully clothed. Peter rolled his eyes and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "Show-off."

They went through a portal to an underrated hole in the wall diner somewhere on the outskirts of Vegas. Apart from a trucker who looked even worse for wear than Peter, they were the only people in the place. They sat at a booth and got greasy, laminated menus from the rack at the table. The only waitress on duty put down mugs without asking if they wanted coffee and came back with the pot.

"Godsend," Peter said thankfully, watching the dark liquid pour into the cup. He added cream and sugar while Loki ordered a three cheese omelette. His order was something like a four egg Southwest scramble, hash browns, a fruit cup, and a cinnamon roll. When the waitress left Peter drank the coffee piping hot. Loki watched his every move.

"Surprised you don't want any hair of the dog."

"Who says I don't? But they don't offer that here. Do they?" He looked over the menu for anything like an Irish Coffee.

"They don't. Your husband does." Loki acted like a magician doing sleight of hand with playing cards, but it was a mini bottle of Jack. He poured it into Peter's mug.

"What happened to 'stop destroying yourself?' Already give up?" Peter stirred his coffee and drank deeply. That was so much better.

"Would you believe me if I told you I also wanted you to like me?"

He thought it over. "No. Not really."

"Peter..."

"I mean you tricked me into marrying you, you already said point blank you only did it because you think I need an intervention, and not to get personal, but you're pretty much the least trustworthy person I've ever met. I wouldn't trust you to babysit a puppy."

Loki squirmed uncomfortably in the booth. "I misspoke, last night."

"Did you now?"

"Can we just get something out on the table?"

"By all means, let's dump the purses in public."

"Would you prefer this conversation somewhere else? Somewhere private? We can go back to the penthouse after breakfast."

"I would, actually." The waitress put down their plates and refilled their coffees.

"Fine. And thank you." As the waitress left again, Loki doctored Peter's coffee for him, with sugar, cream, and a splash of whiskey. He was irritated, and Peter fought the urge to just stalk off. They were out in the middle of nowhere in the desert and he'd left his phone in the hotel room on accident.

They ate in silence. The food was surprisingly tasty, but there was more than Peter could eat. He put half the cinnamon roll onto Loki's plate, and tried not to laugh when his husband looked genuinely touched by the gesture. The moment was ruined when they realized the roll was unforgivably stale. This was a diner, not a bakery, after all.

Soon enough Loki was paying for their meal, and they were back outside in the blinding sun and heat. He opened a portal. Peter could see Loki's living room directly.

"You sure you want to have this talk?" Peter stalled.

"Go through the portal, Peter."

"Fine." He took a deep breath to steel himself, and stepped back to New York.