Thirty Three Rounds Per Minute || Richard (rchardriders) & Peter (yourprincestarlord)

yourprincestarlord:

One second Peter was cursing himself for not dodging better and the next he found a worried Nova Prime hovering over him petting him down and checking him over. On one hand he was extremely relieved that it was actually Richie and he was real, not just a figment of his imagination (he figured a stranger Nova wouldn’t be so handsy with someone he didn’t know), on the other hand he was a bit put out because really he could take care of himself. Sort of. “I-I’m fine…”

Glancing around and seeing all their opponents down and out he relaxed a bit. “Rich… Is that really you?” Peter asked hopefully, wincing internally. That sounded pathetic. Pushing himself up, he looked at his shoulder. His armor had kept the worst off, but he probably had a burn. He’d had worse he decided and stood up, ignoring the pain.

Peter stared at Richie, at a loss for words. What should he say? ‘I’m glad you aren’t dead?’ ‘What the flark happened to you?’ He’d dreamed for a long while after he escaped from the Cancerverse that Richie did too. If he —a mere Spartoi hybrid— could make it out, then the Nova Prime could too, right? But then days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and he’d lost hope.

But here he was. Peter grabbed Richie’s arms and pulled him into an embrace, ignoring the hard armor and his flaring shoulder. “Rich. God. Did these krutacking assholes keep you prisoner for 3 years? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t find you sooner! P-please… I’m s-sorry…” Shit, was he crying? D’ast it… He tried to summon energy to care he was but he couldn’t. Richie wasn’t dead. He figured it was worth crying over.

Richard examined his best friend’s shoulder, and realised it was rather badly burnt. He wanted to use his Nova Force to heal the wound but he figured that he might anger Peter, Richard had already gotten away with checking him over for injuries. “You’re not.” He replied matter-of-factly to the lie, knowing Peter well enough to see through it. He would let it go this time, seeing as his friend still seemed to be in a state of shock similar to him.

“It’s me. It’s me.” Richard repeated, whether for himself or for Peter he wasn’t sure. He reached out to help Peter up and they stared at each other for a while. One question ran through his mind, “How?” How? Over and over again. How did Peter know he was here? How did they even survive that ordeal? They both knew it was a one way trip and yet here they were.

The next thing he knew, Peter pulled him into a hug and he returned it as enthusiastically. Richard breathed in deep, inhaling Peter’s scent, and relishing in the feel of Peter, real and solid, against him. Yet, he was just as careful not to worsen the injury on his friend’s shoulder. “3 years? I don’t think… It’s… it’s been that long? I don’t think — ” Disbelief creeped back into his voice. It… it didn’t feel that long, maybe only slightly more that half year or a year tops. But 3 years seemed like a far stretch.

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t know. It’s not your fault.” He thumbed Peter’s cheek, trying to wipe away his tears, his own eyes brimming with unshed tears himself. He murmured the words over and over, trying to calm Peter down, trying to ground and anchor him.