Goddamit, why had he opened his stupid fucking mouth in the first place? He starred at Peter knowing that every excuse he was trying to think up would be shot down in flames before it even got out of his mouth. Truth then? Could he seriously say what he was now thinking and ever wish to have a friendship with Peter again? Fuck! There was no way around it and consequently Roman's temper kicked in, more to protect him than to attack. "You. Me. Nadia! What the fuck do you think I've been saying, Peter?" he demanded rubbing a hand across his face. "You're all I need and...I want to be all you need," fucking feelings! "And I know there's no fucking way you'd see this the same way, alright, so don't bother patronising me."
Roman put his head in his hands, wishing he had something a little stronger than the dope they'd been smoking. Anything to feel numb for a little while. "Can't promise on the yelling," he half-growled back, fighting back his fear and trying to regain some semblance of control.
"You and your fucking balls," he said with a shake of his head, "yet another super power. The scales are totally laden in your favour, buddy, just so we're clear on this." Talking about his balls probably wasn't wise at this juncture, but it was already out there and there was no going back now. "Fuck you," Roman said with a smirk Peter's way, "tear up your calendar, the day'll go down in history without that thing," he said with a shake of his head, still fidgeting as he braced for whatever fucked up reaction Peter had coming his way. "Really? I didn't mean to freak out on you. Seriously. It's just...everything, ya know? And you're only allowed to hurt me in a good way," he told him with a smirk.