As Adam speaks, Peter's memory abruptly clutches as the whispers he'd heard muttered while Adam was sleeping. He hadn't remembered them as he'd woken, too warm and comfortable for anything else to distract him, but with that raspy-with-sleep voice had hit his ears, the memory had come back.
How could you. You monster. You'll be the first.
It serves as a reminder that Peter doesn't even know the half of what Adam went through in those cells. He's almost been too afraid to ask questions and dig deeper, because he's paranoid that the real story is much grislier than Adam has portrayed, with all of his light-hearted stories about fucking people to get Star Wars tickets. At the back of his suspicions lingers the question, if they were experimenting on biological weapons, what would they have done to the regenerating man in their cells.
The touch of Adam's hand on his only barely chases those thoughts away.
"Nah. This is nice," he murmurs, muffled against the back of Adam's shoulder, chin propped against bare skin. Peter huffs an almost-laugh. "I'm not exactly skilled at platonic bed-sharing either."
He's too much of a worrier to fully enjoy the moment with so many other concerns in mind, but he wants to take just... five minutes. Maybe a couple more. Five minutes to enjoy this. And then he can shift into world saving mode.
"How'd you sleep?" he asks, dark hair tickling the back of Adam's neck. "You were... talking in your sleep a bit. Bad dreams?
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How could you. You monster. You'll be the first.
It serves as a reminder that Peter doesn't even know the half of what Adam went through in those cells. He's almost been too afraid to ask questions and dig deeper, because he's paranoid that the real story is much grislier than Adam has portrayed, with all of his light-hearted stories about fucking people to get Star Wars tickets. At the back of his suspicions lingers the question, if they were experimenting on biological weapons, what would they have done to the regenerating man in their cells.
The touch of Adam's hand on his only barely chases those thoughts away.
"Nah. This is nice," he murmurs, muffled against the back of Adam's shoulder, chin propped against bare skin. Peter huffs an almost-laugh. "I'm not exactly skilled at platonic bed-sharing either."
He's too much of a worrier to fully enjoy the moment with so many other concerns in mind, but he wants to take just... five minutes. Maybe a couple more. Five minutes to enjoy this. And then he can shift into world saving mode.
"How'd you sleep?" he asks, dark hair tickling the back of Adam's neck. "You were... talking in your sleep a bit. Bad dreams?