Chapter Text
So I need a favor.
Miggs frowned down at the note, swallowing the bite of food in his mouth in order to respond to the man across from him.
“I’m not going to build something for your class again, they shot the laser through the roof last time,” he said firmly, pointing at Peter when he pulled the notepad across the tabletop to respond. “Do you have any idea how hard that was to explain to Michaelson without using the words villain or inator or Agent ?” Peter flashed him a grin as he scrawled on the next line, spinning the pad around to face Miggs again.
Not for school. For O.W.C.A.
Miggs blinked, mouth falling a little slack.
“You need a favor from me that relates back to O.W.C.A.?” Miggs clarified slowly, and Peter nodded. “I’m not taking the next week off or something if that’s what you want, my next bill comes in on the ninth.” Peter shook his head again, pen spinning in his fingers as he pulled the paper back towards himself. Miggs took advantage of his friend’s preoccupation in writing to take another bite, still chewing when he leaned in to read.
I need you to marry me.
Miggs choked, and then coughed explosively, spraying Peter with bits of green and red. Peter immediately made a horrified face in response before snatching up a napkin to dab at the food peppered over his face and shirt.
Miggs gasped for breath, unable to dredge up the decency to even apologize before stammering, “Muh— marry you?” Peter nodded, grimacing as he cleaned himself up. “Do you, uh, you wanna fucking elaborate on that at all?” Miggs demanded, and Peter nodded, setting the napkin aside to start writing again. Miggs didn’t dare take another bite of his food, instead waiting until Peter pushed the pad back towards him.
Need to go undercover at a couple’s retreat, and I need a partner I can trust, not only to handle themselves, but also who knows me personally well enough to pass off as my S.O.
“But I’m your nemesis, ” Miggs hissed, leaning across the table as Peter shrugged and quickly scribbled another note.
And I trust you.
Miggs blushed, glancing between the note and the man sitting across from him.
He and Peter had known each other for almost three years now, having first met as their personas Peter the Panda and Professor Mystery. They’d ended up nemeses as designated by O.W.C.A. when Peter turned out to be the only O.W.C.A. Agent capable of finding Mystery, let alone pinning him down long enough to have a go at his inators. It was part of the reason why now they let Peter “failing” to destroy Mystery’s projects almost half the time slide. Then they’d met again a short time later, but as their daytime selves, as Peter Orso and Miggs Ortega, college teachers and completely unaware that each was leading a double life entwined with the other. They’d managed to somehow become friends, despite Miggs’ inability to get along with most people, and Peter’s lack of speech.
Then they’d found out they were nemeses. That had been awkward. Miggs had been stupid enough to use the tools at the school to build some of his projects, and Peter had caught him at it, and they’d figured it out from there.
Miggs had been pretty sure it was the end of their friendship.
But instead they’d agreed to keep their personal and business lives separate; they were friends at their day jobs and nemeses at night.
But this, this was…different.
“But I’m an enemy of O.W.C.A. they’d never let you pick me as a partner,” Miggs insisted, poking at his food and wondering at the likelihood of another spit-take happening anytime soon.
OWCA gave me free reign to pick my partner for this assignment. If they don’t like who I choose, they’ll just have to find another agent.
“So…” Miggs hesitated, clearing his throat and trying not to blush. “You…you want to marry me?” A pink tinge appeared on Peter’s cheeks, and he gave a sort of half-nod, quickly flipping to a fresh page to add another note.
It’s just temporary. But actual legal papers are a better cover. We’ll have it annulled as soon as we get back.
“Annulled,” Miggs repeated, and Peter nodded.
Like it never happened. Without consummation, it just goes away.
“Consummation,” Miggs said, feeling like a parrot. Peter nodded again, giving him an awkward look.
As long as we don’t have sex.
Miggs nodded dumbly, staring down into his food and trying not to blush furiously at the thought of sex with Peter, of Peter touching him, kissing him, fucking him—
So you’re on board?
Miggs blinked as Peter pushed the note under his nose, and he swallowed weakly before nodding.
“Sure,” he said, licking his lips. “Sounds… fun. Or something.”