Leo dropped down onto one of the benches in Central Park. He could still see some of the remnants of the Titan War there -- luckily, the one he wasn't a part of -- but they were subtle, things mortals wouldn't notice. There was a dryad making faces at him and who actually threw something at his head when he dared make a face back at her while Peter wasn't looking.
Peter hadn't wanted to go back to his own place and well Leo couldn't exactly take him to his so they'd settled on hanging out in the park. It wasn't ideal but it was okay. They'd gotten some diarrhea inducing street food not much earlier and it had been eaten nearly as quickly as it was bought.
Peter had been feeling.... Strange. More strange than he'd attributed to the fact that he had a sudden onslaught of new abilities that he couldn't explain, this was more of an emotion that he'd never felt before. He and Leo had been together, dating, boyfriends, and whatever other term was used to describe them for some time now, but he still felt like there was so much more that he'd yet to find out about the other.
Sure, they both knew about each other's biggest secret -- Leo was a Demigod and Peter was Spiderman -- but Peter felt like there were so many other things underneath the surface that his boyfriend was keeping from him, and while it hadn't bothered him nearly as much originally, assuming that eventually Leo would come out and tell him everything. Wasn't that how relationships worked? You slowly learned things about one another, rather than a huge information dump right from the start?
But, it had been months now and he felt he hadn't found out anything of real importance about Leo. Sure, he knew his favorite things; pizza toppings, movies, colors, seasons, and the other useless things that could have been told to anyone else that the boy considered to be a friend. But what about the important stuff? He'd never met Leo's parents, never heard any talk of any family that Leo had when Peter had been completely open about everything -- the accident that had killed both of his parents, the gruesome murder of his Uncle Ben, even the fish that he'd forgotten to feed for three days and cried over when he was six.
Looking down at his feet, his shoes kicking at the ground and the few springs of grass that were sprouting up from between the cracks in the concrete, Peter sighed heavily. "Dunno." He shrugged, keeping his attention focused on the blades of grass he was abusing for no apparent reason. "Just don't really feel like it."
He paused, a long and drawn out silence before speaking again. "How come we never go to your house?"
It's not that hid things from Peter on purpose but even though Peter's past is pretty gnarly, Leo thought his was... if Peter knew it all would he think of him the same? Leo wasn't even sure he thought of himself as the same. He sure as hell remembered the looks on the faces of others who had realized everything, put together the pieces of his story. Leo never said much because he didn't want Peter to put together the puzzle and see how not worth Leo was, how messed up he actually was. He was sure Peter wouldn't want him and he didn't want to lose Peter.
So he didn't share anything too personal about his past. He'd always thought that'd been enough for Peter so far.
"I don't have a house," Leo answered, watching Peter's shoes kicking at the concrete and grass. "I live at a special camp for demigods. I spend most of my time sleeping in this workshop I have there...Mortals can't really go."
That answer didn't really satisfy Peter's curiosity, What about the rest of Leo's life? His family, his other friends, anything else from his time growing up that anyone else would have shared with the person that they were dating? Maybe Peter had just expected too much -- this was really his first real relationship, after all, and maybe he was just the type to share that much more with a person he felt such a deep connection to. Maybe Leo didn't feel nearly as deeply for him as he did for the other.
Then again, it made perfect sense. If Leo was a demigod, then there had to be a special sort of place where they all lived. Thor had Asgard and Leo had a special camp. For things that he didn't understand, he found it was easiest to make that comparison most of the time.
Gods, demigods, they were practically the same sort of thing, right?
"Yeah, I guess so.... But, like do you parents live there too? I mean, like you've met Aunt May and I've told you about my Uncle Ben, and my mom and dad. Demigods have parents too, right?" Peter mentally kicked himself. Everyone had parents, Leo hadn't just formed by way of some kind of asexual reproduction, nor had he just been dropped onto the planet as a teenage demigod. He had to have come from somewhere, and Peter hated feeling like he was so in the dark. "We've just been together for a little while now, it feels weird thinking that I don't know that much about you. It kinda bothers me a little, I guess..." His voice became progressively softer, weaker like he'd been ashamed of admitting that anything was on his mind.
And, partially he had been scared of doing it, not wanting to end up in some kind of weird argument with Leo if the other had some kind of valid reason for not ever mentioning that part of his life. Maybe there was some kind of demigod law that forbade him from telling mortals (and that was still a word that Peter was getting used to, too.) about it.
Leo frowned at the question because there really wasn't a way around explaining at least part of his past. He sat quietly for a while, pulling some gears and pipe cleaners from his pocket and fiddling with them silently for a few minutes. A part of him was hoping that Peter wouldn't talk more just yet, give him time to work up to some of the truth at least. He felt guilty when the other told him how it bothered him, how he didn't think he knew much about Leo.
He always thought Peter knew what was important about him. His secret, most of his current life. Leo figured Peter knew him better than just about anyone.
"My dad's Hephaestus. He technically lives in Olympus but he spends all his time in his forges. He has a lot of them in Volcanoes, y'know... I've been to a few of them. They're amazing... he has all these inventions and automatons, like you'd never believe some of the stuff he's made..." his voice was a bit wistful. Like most demigods his interactions with his godly parent was minimal.
He went quiet for a little bit again his fingers trembling as he thought about his mom -- that urge to just run making his feet bounces a little. "My mom's dead," he finally forced out. "Abuela, I tried to live with her but it didn't work and I ran away.. and then I was with one of my aunts...she hated me, I ran away then too... I kept running away until I went to this Wilderness School in Arizona for troubled kids. That's where a Satyr found me and I got to Camp Half-Blood..."
"See, nothing interesting or good about my past."
Maybe he'd said enough that Peter wouldn't question him about his mom. He didn't want to tell Peter that he was a murderer. Because despite everything he knew now he still felt utterly responsible for his mother's death.
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no subject
Leo dropped down onto one of the benches in Central Park. He could still see some of the remnants of the Titan War there -- luckily, the one he wasn't a part of -- but they were subtle, things mortals wouldn't notice. There was a dryad making faces at him and who actually threw something at his head when he dared make a face back at her while Peter wasn't looking.
Peter hadn't wanted to go back to his own place and well Leo couldn't exactly take him to his so they'd settled on hanging out in the park. It wasn't ideal but it was okay. They'd gotten some diarrhea inducing street food not much earlier and it had been eaten nearly as quickly as it was bought.
"Why don't you wanna go home?"
no subject
Sure, they both knew about each other's biggest secret -- Leo was a Demigod and Peter was Spiderman -- but Peter felt like there were so many other things underneath the surface that his boyfriend was keeping from him, and while it hadn't bothered him nearly as much originally, assuming that eventually Leo would come out and tell him everything. Wasn't that how relationships worked? You slowly learned things about one another, rather than a huge information dump right from the start?
But, it had been months now and he felt he hadn't found out anything of real importance about Leo. Sure, he knew his favorite things; pizza toppings, movies, colors, seasons, and the other useless things that could have been told to anyone else that the boy considered to be a friend. But what about the important stuff? He'd never met Leo's parents, never heard any talk of any family that Leo had when Peter had been completely open about everything -- the accident that had killed both of his parents, the gruesome murder of his Uncle Ben, even the fish that he'd forgotten to feed for three days and cried over when he was six.
Looking down at his feet, his shoes kicking at the ground and the few springs of grass that were sprouting up from between the cracks in the concrete, Peter sighed heavily. "Dunno." He shrugged, keeping his attention focused on the blades of grass he was abusing for no apparent reason. "Just don't really feel like it."
He paused, a long and drawn out silence before speaking again. "How come we never go to your house?"
no subject
So he didn't share anything too personal about his past. He'd always thought that'd been enough for Peter so far.
"I don't have a house," Leo answered, watching Peter's shoes kicking at the concrete and grass. "I live at a special camp for demigods. I spend most of my time sleeping in this workshop I have there...Mortals can't really go."
no subject
Then again, it made perfect sense. If Leo was a demigod, then there had to be a special sort of place where they all lived. Thor had Asgard and Leo had a special camp. For things that he didn't understand, he found it was easiest to make that comparison most of the time.
Gods, demigods, they were practically the same sort of thing, right?
"Yeah, I guess so.... But, like do you parents live there too? I mean, like you've met Aunt May and I've told you about my Uncle Ben, and my mom and dad. Demigods have parents too, right?" Peter mentally kicked himself. Everyone had parents, Leo hadn't just formed by way of some kind of asexual reproduction, nor had he just been dropped onto the planet as a teenage demigod. He had to have come from somewhere, and Peter hated feeling like he was so in the dark. "We've just been together for a little while now, it feels weird thinking that I don't know that much about you. It kinda bothers me a little, I guess..." His voice became progressively softer, weaker like he'd been ashamed of admitting that anything was on his mind.
And, partially he had been scared of doing it, not wanting to end up in some kind of weird argument with Leo if the other had some kind of valid reason for not ever mentioning that part of his life. Maybe there was some kind of demigod law that forbade him from telling mortals (and that was still a word that Peter was getting used to, too.) about it.
no subject
He always thought Peter knew what was important about him. His secret, most of his current life. Leo figured Peter knew him better than just about anyone.
"My dad's Hephaestus. He technically lives in Olympus but he spends all his time in his forges. He has a lot of them in Volcanoes, y'know... I've been to a few of them. They're amazing... he has all these inventions and automatons, like you'd never believe some of the stuff he's made..." his voice was a bit wistful. Like most demigods his interactions with his godly parent was minimal.
He went quiet for a little bit again his fingers trembling as he thought about his mom -- that urge to just run making his feet bounces a little. "My mom's dead," he finally forced out. "Abuela, I tried to live with her but it didn't work and I ran away.. and then I was with one of my aunts...she hated me, I ran away then too... I kept running away until I went to this Wilderness School in Arizona for troubled kids. That's where a Satyr found me and I got to Camp Half-Blood..."
"See, nothing interesting or good about my past."
Maybe he'd said enough that Peter wouldn't question him about his mom. He didn't want to tell Peter that he was a murderer. Because despite everything he knew now he still felt utterly responsible for his mother's death.