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Peter has to have a serious discussion with his mom. Serious enough that he visits her while Kurt and both his sisters are in class. He sits in front of her, tapping his foot nervously, which kinda looks ridiculous, 'cuz he moves so fast. So he starts twisting the blue streak in the front of his hair. It’s slowly fading away like streaks do. He really has to dye it again.
"You changed your hair," Magda says.
Peter stops twisting the blue streak around his finger. It ended up looking killer, especially when Kurt's near. "Yeah. It’s, uh, so I match Kurt.”
Magda nods, taking a slow drag of her cigarette. Peter squirms.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“I really, really like him. And I- I don’t know what to do, ‘cuz I’ve never gotten this far before.” Peter doesn’t have to mention his abysmal dating life. Magda knows. She used to get on him all the time about finding a wife, Peter and why don’t you bring me grandchildren, Peter?. Well, that’s kinda an unreachable goal right now, ‘cuz, uh, Kurt is a man, and last time Peter checked, the biology doesn’t line up right there, unless there’s some version of the mutant gene that one of them has that allows that to happen. Like Jurassic Park. Peter hasn’t really put a lotta thought into that, but he shifts in his seat, thinking about the likelihood of becoming a father. He thought he wouldn’t have to worry about that for a long time, if ever again, but then his stupid brain fixates on this stupid idea.
“I’d say marriage, but…”
“That’s kinda illegal.” Peter spreads himself out in his chair, one leg over the arm, mind still racing with the concept of the mutant gene making him a father. Then he imagines his and Kurt's child and all the variations they can have, and how he really doesn't wanna be a father in his twenties.
“That’s never stopped you before,” Magda says.
“I think this’s something I can’t, like, steal.” Peter jiggles his foot. “I would, ‘cuz, he’s, like, probably the love of my life, but I can’t.”
“Propose, at least. If I’m gonna have a son-in-law, I want it to be him.”
Peter lays a hand over his heart. “Aww, you like Kurt more than the toaster?”
Magda gives him a specific look, taking a drag of her cigarette. Peter’s always kinda felt like he’s the reason behind her chain smoking. Him and Wanda were kinda nightmares growing up. He’ll admit it, okay. He’s always been a nightmare, but he had no impulse control at all when he was younger. It’s hard to imagine, but true.
“Okay, okay. Got it.” Peter looks around the room, like he hasn’t seen the fucking living room of his own home (former home? What does he even consider home, anymore? His mom’s house, or the dorm? Maybe Home is Where the Kurt Is. G-d, he sounds so fucking cheesy and whipped- it’s ‘cuz he is) before.
“You really love him?”
“More than anything, mom. He’s-” Peter sighs. Yeah, call him love-struck, call him whipped, call him whatever. He’s fully in love with Kurt. 100%, completely in love. The type where you decide there’s no going back from.
Magda shakes her head, smiling regardless. “Never thought you’d date a Catholic boy.”
“That's what you’re gonna focus on? The Catholic thing? ‘Cuz I think that was more likely than, like, dating someone who’s blue.”
“Pietro,” Magda says. “Your father can control metal. I’m not surprised you chose another mutant, even if he is blue.”
“And has a tail.”
“And a tail.”
Peter taps his fingers against his thigh, holding back comments about the rest of Kurt’s mutations. “I just- I guess marriage’d be the next step, except I can’t get married, so… what now?”
“Propose.” Magda lights another cigarette off the butt of her last, snuffing the previous out in one of her ashtrays.
“Can’t get married, so what’s the point?”
“It’s the principle. It means you’re tying yourselves together ‘forever’.” Magda really does the air quotes around the word “forever”, looking cynical as hell with a cigarette between her fingers and her bloodshot eyes.
Either way, Peter’s pretty sure his mother’s a genius. That’s where Wanda gets her mind from. He swears, the women in his life are geniuses, and the men are… well, they’re there, and they range from being Scott-levels of tightass to, well, Kurt, the most wonderful angel of a man he’s ever met. But Wanda? Magda? Geniuses. Throw Jean in there, too. Why not?
“Where do I even get a ring to fit his finger?”
“Ask your father,” Magda says. “And tell him to pay child support. Asshole.”
“Mom, he didn’t know we existed until, like, last year.”
Magda shakes her head and takes a drag, blowing the smoke off to the side. “What a deadbeat.”
Peter sighs. “Yeah, Mom. I’ll tell him again.”
-
Finding Dadneto is as hard as it normally is. Meaning, of course, that if you know where to look, which Peter does (wherever the Professor is), he’s kinda easy to find. Y’know, ‘cuz they’re enemies/best friends/lovers/whatever the hell you call it. Thank G-d he’s alone so Peter can have a good old father-son engagement ring conversation instead of having to bleach his eyes as a result of watching his father and the Professor getting it on like the horny teenagers they teach.
When did his life reach this level of weird?
“Dad,” Peter says, cringing at how weird it feels to call someone dad.
Erik stares at him blankly. Yeah, Peter’s really lucky he didn’t get his expressiveness from his father, ‘cuz he’d look like a dead fish 90% of the time. “Yes?”
“I think- IthinkI’mgonnaproposetoKurt.”
He did it again. Shit. He’s really fucking nervous.
“What for?”
Well, now he feels stupid. “For the, uh, principle of it. Y’know. Promising ourselves as life partners.”
Erik crosses his arms. That’s some sort of emotional reaction, isn’t it? So that’s, like, progress. “And you’re telling me this because-?”
“I wanted to know if you could, um. Make a ring? For me? ‘Cuz, y’know, normal rings aren’t gonna fit Kurt’s fingers, and I don’t think I can, um, afford one, anyway.” ‘Cuz Peter’s a broke high-school dropout who lives in a school for mutants instead of his mother’s basement. Yay! He’s totally in the right part of his life for making a lifelong commitment with his live-in boyfriend. “And also, you’re my dad, so, like… I think you should know. Or whatever.” He tacks it on at the end, all… nonchalant. Casual. Chill. Yeah.
Erik raises an eyebrow. The kids weren’t wrong when they said he has shark eyes.
“Wouldn’t you propose to the Professor?”
That makes something flash across his father’s face. Something. “You know?”
“Uh, yeah? It’s the most open secret, like, ever.” Peter shoves his hands in his pockets. “I approve of it. Whatever. Like, I’m not gonna judge you, for, like, whoever you date. Y’know, ‘cuz I’m-” he shrugs, not wanting to say queer.
“Very well,” Erik says, and Peter’s not sure what he’s agreeing to.
“So…?”
“I’ll make you a ring. Consider it a wedding gift.”
Peter’s pretty sure that this might be Erik’s way of saying “I love you, son”, but he might just be imagining it. Whatever it is, he’s gonna drag it out. Y’know, make Erik feel kinda bad about not being in Peter and Wanda’s life, like, ever. Not even a postcard. So he’s gonna push it a little, okay?
“Or maybe, like, a Christmas present?
“We’re Jewish. And don’t push your luck.”
“Bar mitzvah, then. And I’m great at pushing my luck.”
Erik rubs at the bridge of his nose. “Yes, I’m aware.”
“So… do you want me to, like, get you gold or something, or do you have a stash of metal somewhere? Or do you just summon it? Like, pull it from something like you did with the iron?” Peter’s just rattling off now, spewing all the things he can think of to fill the space. That, and he’s always curious about other mutants. Especially his dad.
“The more you talk, the less I believe you’re mine.”
“Don’t you go on rants a lot? Y’know, ‘mutant rights’ this, ‘mutant oppression’ that.” Peter shrugs.
Erik glares at him. Yup, shark eyes. Very murderous. “The more you talk, the less I want to do this favor for you,” he amends.
Peter cracks a grin. “That’s the Quicksilver charm. And, I’ve heard, the Lehnsherr, too.”
Erik shakes his head and walks out. Peter likes to imagine he’s smiling, just facing away from Peter so he can’t see it.
-
He has the ring in his pocket. Peter isn’t sure where you get ring boxes from. Probably jewelry stores. But he also doesn’t think he can find one that can fit a ring of this size in the little slot thingy ring boxes have, so he just put it in his jeans pocket.
And now he’s sorta wondering when to ask.
Here’s the thing. Peter’s never seen a real, actual proposal, ‘cuz Peter’s always either hung out with people who are older than him and not the type to get married, or are too young to legally get married. So he’s only seen, like, movies and shit. And he doesn’t think Kurt would like that sorta proposal.
So, uh. He doesn’t know what to do. For at least two weeks, he wakes up every day, puts on pants, and moves the ring from one pair to another. He’s biding his time, okay? He’s waiting for the perfect moment.
“There is no ‘perfect moment’,” Jean says, one day.
“Get outta my head!” Peter covers his ears and almost does the annoying “lalalala” he’d do to keep Wanda out of his head when they were kids. Instead, he starts mentally shouting the lyrics to the first song he can think of, “Subdivisions”.
Jean flinches and glares at him. “Your music is still-”
“If you say ‘bad’, I’m gonna sing it louder,” Peter says.
She sighs. “What I’m trying to tell you is that there won’t be a perfect moment.”
“What makes you a love expert, Jean?”
“I think I have a little more experience than you do.”
“Ouch.” Peter clutches his hearts. Dramatics, hell yeah. “That hurts, Jean. Bringing up my troubled past?”
“I’m not above it,” Jean says, dry as ever. “Kurt wouldn’t say no.” She folds her hands neatly in front of her, expression almost unreadable.
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
Jean raises an eyebrow. People sure do like to do that at Peter a lot, huh? “Do you forget I can read your mind?”
“Say that again and it’s just gonna be that part from ‘Wish You Were Here’ for an hour again.” It isn’t an empty threat: ever since Jean came up to him after three days of that stuck in his head and gave him some unspecified threat, that’s been his go-to “get the hell away from me” move.
“I’m trying to help you.”
Peter sighs, giving in. “Okay. Yeah. I’m worried, okay? I’ve never done this before.”
“Just because he’s your first serious relationship-”
“You make me sound so lame,” Peter complains, even though he is.
“- doesn’t mean that you have to propose to him.” Jean puts her hands on her hips. Yeah, she’s the same category as Magda and Wanda. “And I’m telling you the truth. You are lame.”
“I wanna marry him, but it’s illegal. And not the kinda illegal I can, like, get away with. You can’t steal legal marriage.” Peter taps his foot. “So, yeah. I wanna propose to him, ‘cuz I wanna be in his life forever. I wanna do this the right way.” Peter thinks of him and Kurt in fifty years, kinda wrinkled and happy and hopefully (hopefully!) married for real, and he can’t help himself from smiling like an idiot.
Jean’s face softens. Right. He’s forgotten that she can read his mind. Fucking telepaths. “I can set something up, if you’d like.”
“I’m waiting for the right moment.” Peter rocks back and forth on his heels. “I’m waiting. It’s… Okay, I might be a little bit of a wimp, but I’m just so fucking nervous.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Jean says. “Just don’t burn anything down.”
“Wrong type of maniac. I’m a klepto, not a pyro.”
“And I’m late for class,” Jean says, leaving before Peter can fire something back. Peter crosses his arms when she leaves him in the dust.
-
They’re lying on the grass, listening to Kurt’s favorite Michael Jackson cassette on Peter’s boombox, when he decides that this is his moment. That, and the fact that Dadneto and Jean and the fucking Professor have been giving him knowing looks in the hallways, and he can’t handle it anymore. But mostly because Kurt’s singing along to “Beat It”, all smiles and crinkled eyes and expressive hands and tail, and Peter thinks “I can spend the rest of my life with him, no problem”.
“Hey, Kurt?”
Kurt looks up at Peter, a soft, sharp smile filling his face. “Ja?”
Dammit, Kurt. Stop being so cute so Peter can actually do this.
“So, uh, I’ve been thinking. About you. A lot. A, uh, lot more than normal. Like, a lot a lot, and I, um.” Peter stands and starts pacing. “You’re the best guy I’ve ever met. In my life. And… And the fact that you’re dating me, is, like, crazy, ‘cuz I’m kinda… not great. And even though I don’t really understand why you like me back, I’m glad you do, ‘cuz dating you has been, like, the best part of my life. And I- I really, really love you. So I’ve been thinking that even though it isn’t legal, I should, um, show you how much I love you.”
He pauses to look at Kurt. Kurt sits in the grass, mouth slightly open.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…” Peter reaches out a hand. When Kurt takes it, he pulls Kurt to his feet. “I mean I want to, um-” then he remembers he should get on one knee for this, so he kinda snaps to his knee, almost bringing Kurt to the ground with him. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to-” he shakes his head and reaches into his pocket for the ring. “I mean, will you marry me?”
Kurt stares at him, then the ring, then Peter again, and drops to his knees, too, and kisses him.
This’s pretty good, Peter thinks.
“So, uh, is that a yes?”
Kurt beams at him, absolutely fucking beams, and laughs a little. His eyes glitter with tears. “Ja! Absolut!” He holds Peter’s face in his hands. “Ich liebe dich, mein Schatz,” he says.
“I love you, too.” Dammit, Peter isn’t gonna cry. He isn’t gonna cry. He’ll leave that to Kurt. Soft, emotional Kurt. “I love you. I love you so much.”
“Can we get married here?”
Peter shakes his head. “No.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“‘Cuz I wanna, if we ever can. And if we can’t, I want you to be my fiance. I’m serious about you.” Shit, there are tears, somewhere in there, threatening to come out.
Kurt smiles and shakes his head. “Silly man.”
“Your silly man.”
“Ja.”
Peter smiles back at Kurt. He’s sure if he smiles any more, his face’ll snap, but it’s really worth it, ‘cuz he’s pretty sure he’s never been so happy in his entire life. “Put on your ring.”
Kurt slips it onto the second finger on his left hand, admiring the fit. “Where did you a ring for me?”
“My dad,” Peter says.
“It is perfect.”
Peter grins. “Yeah. Yeah, it sure is.” He isn’t looking at the ring, just Kurt’s perfect face.
“Do you have one?”
And that’s another thing Peter can give Dadneto credit for: the man made two rings. “I’ll be back,” he says. He runs to the room to get the ring outta his dresser and comes back. “You wanna put it on me?”
Kurt nods and takes the ring from Peter. He holds it like it’s something precious, and holds Peter’s hand the same way. Both their rings shine silver.
-
"You did it," Magda says the next time she sees them.
Kurt looks at her, head cocked, and then he looks at his ring. "Oh! Ja, we are… what is it?”
"Fiances. You're my fiance. We’re-” Peter’s unable to hold his grin back at the thought- “engaged." Peter squeezes Kurt’s hand, then looks at his mom. "Yeah, I did it."
"Good." She looks really fucking smug. There’s where Peter and Wanda gets it from. But mostly Wanda. "Tell me when the wedding is."
"We can't-"
"That's the joke, blueberry." Peter runs his thumb over the back of Kurt’s hand. “I’ll tell you, if it ever happens.” He glances over at Kurt.
Kurt catches Peter’s eye, absolutely beams at Peter, and snuggles up next to his side. Peter’s smiling a stupid, dumb, dopey smile that he’d hate if he wasn’t so freaking in love with Kurt, snuggling up next to his fiance (his fiance!) and thinking about the next part of their lives. Mr. Kurt Maximoff, he thinks, like a teenage girl, and then Mr. Peter Wagner, and either one sounds really good for him. Wagner, Maximoff, Maximoff-Wagner, Wagner-Maximoff, whatever. They’re young and in love and engaged.
“I love you,” Peter whispers into Kurt’s ear.
“Ich liebe dich auch,” Kurt replies, smiling into Peter’s neck.
Yeah, the future looks pretty damn bright.