#peter.threads

He had vaguely heard Davis speaking quietly and frantically on the phone to someone, though the words had been completely lost on Pete as he slipped in and out of a coherent and conscious state. The only thing that he knew was that every time his eyes slid closed for more than a few seconds, Davis was shouting at him, making him wince as a pain flared in his head, and blink his eyes back open to try and focus on the man who looked rather panic-stricken.

At some point, someone had stripped his shirt off, though he didn’t realize it right away. It was only after Davis had shoved the window to his office and the cool night air wandered in, creeping over his bare skin and making him shiver. He was exposed and each breath hurt and honestly, Peter was starting to wonder if he actually had died. He was laying in wait for his judgement from the devil, because no God would let him into heaven.

He thoroughly believed that, too. With everything he’d done, he was destined for Hell. Those were the thoughts swirling in his mind as he lay on the itchy carpet under him, staring at the ceiling of his office and wandering in and out of conscious with the occasional demand from Davis that he wake up. He barely heard the office door open and close, barely realized he was alone for a moment before the door opened again, and this time Davis’ face appeared in his vision for a moment before another was there, and his eyes widened slightly, breath catching and... “Are you an angel? Because you’re radiant.”

Planning a wedding was fun an exciting, right? Peter could only imagine. He’d spent the better part of the last two years planning the proposal, surely the actual wedding planning would be fun, too.

If Kolya said yes, that was. If he said no, Peter wasn’t quite sure what he would be doing after that. As sure as Peter was about them, about the relationship they had, there was a chance that Kol wasn’t ready for this, for marriage and for forever and whatever the hell else marriage meant. He would be heartbroken, sure, but he would absolutely understand if Kol wasn’t ready. He wouldn’t push it. 

He wasn’t quite sure he would manage to stick around the party if that was the case, though, so having Marisol there was a blessing. She could get him out if things went south.

The ring box felt like it was burning in his pocket, he was so sure that there was a spotlight on the thing all night long as he laughed and drank and went over the speech he had planned in his head for when the clock struck midnight. He made sure that he didn’t let himself get too far gone, and he was extremely careful that Kolya didn’t press too closely to the side of him that hid that box, lest his cover get blown early.

There was no telling if Kol knew what he was planning, no telling if the man was suspicious of his behavior in the slightest, but considering their relationship and how well the man could read him, he wouldn’t be surprised if Kolya had at least some idea of... something.

A phone call from Tate came at the wrong time, too close to midnight, and he was as polite and jovial as he could be while trying to rush his friend off the phone, disappointed that he wouldn’t make it in time for the big moment, but not pressing too much. Because the moment he hung up the phone, the countdown had started and he only had 7... 6... 5...

His nerves set on fire. Every word he had rehearsed in his head was gone and he had no idea what to say, just knew that he was supposed to get down on one knee now, and he did, squeezing Kolya’s hand to get his attention, vaguely aware that people had caught wind and had pulled out phones to start recording this as his mouth opened and words just started tumbling out. “Kol... I had this whole speech planned. I remember something about like... new year and new beginnings and all that jazz but it doesn’t matter, does it? The words? Because what matters is that I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I want that to start right now, for the beginning of this year to be the beginning of the rest of forever.” His other hand fumbled in his pocket, finally managing to pull that box out, to open it, and his tongue got all tied up again before he finally managed to get out, “Marry me?”