Chapter Text
Peter's phone pinged just as he was about to place his last piece of Lego onto the New Hope Imperial Star Destroyer.
Ugh. He groaned dramatically, ignoring the noise the next three times that it went off in quick succession so he could admire his masterpiece now that it was finally finished.
With a grin, he sat back on his heels so he could pull his phone from his pocket even while it was still pinging with new texts. Then Peter groaned again as he read the messages he'd received, all of which were from Tony and all of which made him wish he hadn't even bothered waking up that morning.
Which, alright, that might be a little dramatic. But they were his thoughts! They could be as dramatic as he wanted them to be, thank you very much. He read through the message thread one more time to make sure that he was really seeing what he thought he was seeing, before he dropped his between his shoulders and prayed for strength.
Ned made a questioning noise as Peter dropped his phone back into his lap, and he ignored the texts for now.
He sighed heavily, already dreading what he was about to say.
"I have to go in for a debrief," Peter explained, falling back onto the mound of blankets and pillows that Ned had set up for them.
He seriously didn’t want to go in. He wanted to spend his day with Ned, watching Star Wars and building cool shit out of Lego like a regular, nerdy teenager. He wanted to relax, especially after the fight he’d had with May.
But Peter had learned really early on that being a superhero meant he didn’t get what he wanted.
He could see the disappointment that Ned was trying to hide, and his heart gave a little ache. "Oh?" his friend asked, sounding nothing other than curious.
Peter knew better.
He took a deep breath, and pushed down the way he wanted to scream.
"From the attack yesterday. Tony is saying I have to be there this time," Peter groaned, ignoring the ding from his phone until he'd managed to pull himself up from his back. "As much I love saving people, I really prefer when I'm doing it on my own and I don't have to deal with all the intricacies that come with working with the team."
Especially with a team that he could hardly stand. Getting together with the Avengers, pardoned or not, was never his idea of a good time. The fact that they were all mooching off Tony certainly didn’t make him like them anymore.
God, it was just always the same thing. Peter was already in a bad mood from getting into a fight with May. The last thing that he wanted to deal with today was Captain Tightass and the rest of his merry band of idiots, but Peter knew he didn’t have a choice. Despite not being a member of the Avengers, if he helped them out, then he needed to debrief with them. Maybe if he didn’t have his connection to Tony he’d be able to get out of it, ignore them, but since he was connected to Tony, Peter knew they wouldn’t leave him or his mentor alone unless he showed up.
And since they were literally the worst ever, Peter wasn’t willing to subject either of them to dealing with the Avengers any more than they needed to.
So yeah, he’d show up to the debrief, but he wouldn't be freaking happy about it.
His phone pinged again, so Peter finally picked it back up. There were a few more messages from Tony that he ignored for now, but there was also a text from James asking if he needed a ride to the tower. Huh. Peter scrunched up his nose, debating with himself if it was even worth asking Ned about, but… he didn’t have his mask with him.
Shit. He’d taken the subway here, not willing to swing after his fight with May, and that meant he’d have to take the subway there and he already didn’t want to go.
Ah, hell. The ride to the Tower sucked, and Peter couldn’t blow it off. That much was clear when Tony sent him another text begging him to show up because the others were being insufferable.
He shot Ned another look out of the corner of his eye and chewed on his bottom lip. Peter didn’t want to upset his best friend, but they had ended their talk about James on a hopeful note, right? Maybe this would be what his friend needed! Peter knew that, if left to his own devices, Ned would totally talk himself out of giving it a chance.
Right. Right, this was good!
"Would it be okay if James came to pick me up?" Peter asked quickly, watching as Ned dropped his head to stare at his hands. Silence stretched between them, long enough that Peter was about to take it back when Ned finally nodded shallowly. “You sure, dude? I can totally just swing to the tower."
Which wasn’t true, but he wasn’t going to make Ned feel like he had to let James show up. Hopeful ending or not, that wasn’t what he needed.
Ned took a deep breath, so Peter stayed quiet and let him think.
"It's okay," Ned finally said, and Peter looked back up to find Ned watching him quietly. He wasn’t smiling, not really, but he wasn’t outright grimacing which was probably a good sign. "I… I want to see him anyway."
Heck yes! Good job, Peter!
“Yeah?" Peter asked with a grin, knowing that his voice was leading.
They hadn't talked any more about it, both of them doing their own thing in Ned’s media room while they existed together, but it was clear that Ned had been thinking things through the entire time they'd been hanging out. Peter had been thinking about a lot of things, too (and by a lot of things, he’d really just been thinking about one big thing. A big thing that was green. And handsome. And seriously so sweet), so he hadn't minded the comfortable silence that they'd fallen into for the last few hours.
But he was glad to see that their communal thinking was paying off!
Ned rolled his eyes at him, but he was laughing as he said, "Yeah, and get that look off your face, loser."
Peter laughed, throwing his head back as he sunk back into the comfortable nest of pillows. He shot out a quick text to let James know where to get him. A text bubble appeared, disappeared, appeared, disappeared, and then did that same dance four more times before he got a very simple “ok” in response. Since James wasn’t the biggest texter, he tried not to read too much into it.
Besides, his mind was already too busy being upset about the fact that he had to go into the tower to worry about James’ text tone. He absolutely did not want to go and deal with an entire mission debrief, but at least he had James in his corner, which would hopefully deter Steve from scolding him when he spent the meeting talking with Tony like he usually did.
Wait, would James be in his corner? Peter hoped that he would be in his corner, since they were friends. Like friends friends, who hung out and texted and called. They hadn’t really hung out in front of the others yet, but…
No. No, Peter wasn’t going to make any assumptions. Yes, they were friends, but Peter knew what it meant to have to compartmentalize your life. James was his friend no matter what; even if they didn’t sit together at the debrief, or James wasn’t all chummy with him in the Tower, they’d still be friends.
Besides, he didn’t know what was going to happen. There was no point worrying about it.
"Do you want me to help you get this cleaned up?" Peter asked to distract himself, waving a hand to encompass the floor full of pillows and blankets that they'd been lying on.
There was a lot of Lego around too, and Peter could only guess how long it’d take Ned to put everything away.
"No, it's okay. I'll probably come back up here after you leave," Ned told him, lining up the last few pieces of Lego he had out in front of him into a neat line before he stood.
Peter didn’t fight it, since he knew Ned wouldn’t lie to him. And then he realized what Ned had actually said.
"Come back up?" Peter asked, waggling his brows with a grin.
"Well, I was planning on walking you out, loser," Ned muttered under his breath with a roll of his eyes, but his cheeks tinted pink.
Peter smiled widely, absolutely overjoyed that things between his two friends weren't lost. Sure, he hadn't heard from James about what had happened when they had their solo date, but when he thought about it, he hadn't heard from him much at all over the last few days. Maybe something had happened? Or maybe he had been thinking? Peter knew that James didn’t like texting, and maybe he hadn’t wanted to talk about it on the phone?
Fuck. Peter felt terrible for not realizing that they hadn’t really had a conversation of substance in a few days, but with everything that had been going on with patrols and school and May, it felt like he hardly had time to breathe let alone make sure he was checking in with James.
But that wasn’t fair. He’d told James that they were friends. He’d told James that he cared about him. And just because he was the newest addition to Peter’s social circle didn’t mean that he deserved to be cast aside when Peter got busy.
He made a vow to do better as he and Ned stood up. With Ned, it was easy, seeing as how they spent all day together at school. That didn’t excuse his lack of attention, though, and he'd have to put more effort in with James.
Once he was standing, Peter dusted off his jeans as he pocketed his phone after replying to James' text that he was on his way and reassuring Tony that he was coming. He and Ned were quiet when they made their way to the entryway, and it was pretty clear that Ned was nervous. That, and there wasn't much left to talk about that they hadn't gone over already, and their shoulders bumped together as they made their way downstairs.
Not for the first time, Peter thought about how lucky he was to have Ned in his life.
Ned went to the kitchen while Peter continued to the front hall, slipping into his shoes so he'd be ready. May had always gotten mad at him when she had to wait for him when she was picking him up somewhere, so Peter was used to making sure he was ready to go before his ride even arrived.
Plus, he really didn’t want to keep Tony waiting any longer.
So Peter was already at the front door when James finally knocked, and he opened it with a big smile.
"Hiya," Peter said, darting forward for a quick, tight hug before James could protest. The man didn't seem to mind. He hugged Peter back just as tightly, and there was a small smile on his face as Peter pulled back. "Sorry I haven't been a great friend. Life has been crazy, but that isn’t an excuse not to check in with you.”
"S'okay, Pete," James told him with an even wider smile. There was something warm in his eyes, something that made him look even more handsome than normal. "I get it."
Peter shook his head. "Even still, I want you to know that you can always text me or call me if you need something,” he told him seriously, watching as James deflated.
A flash of understanding lit up his face, and he probably realized that Ned had told him what happened between them. He didn’t seem upset, which was good. Peter gave him a soft smile even as he reached out and grasped his forearm to squeeze it gently.
"Thanks, Pete." James' eyes darted around the room, getting caught on something behind Peter and holding.
His face shifted into something so gentle Peter's heart nearly broke, and he didn't have to look back to know that Ned was walking up behind him. He almost felt like he was intruding, so he let go of James’ arm and sort of shuffled to the side a little bit so he wasn’t directly in James’ line of sight.
"Hey, doll," James said quietly, and Peter turned away to give them some privacy.
"Hi, James," Ned's voice was softer than Peter had ever heard it before, and it had a different lilt to it than Peter had ever heard before. There was a rustling that sounded like James moving, and then Ned whispered, "Do you… do you want to come over, later? We can talk about what happened?"
"I'd love that," James said. There was a long stretch of silence that Peter held his breath during to not disturb the atmosphere, before James’ low voice asked, "Can I get a hug for the road, darlin'?"
Peter had to hold in a cackle of laughter at the ridiculously cheesy line, and he decided it would probably be best if he left them alone to have their hug. It wasn't a hardship to wait for James outside, especially when that meant leaving Ned and James alone inside to do… whatever it was they were going to do.
He pulled out his phone, standing on Ned’s stupidly big driveway and eyeing James’ motorcycle with suspicion. He sent a few texts to Tony about how he might not actually show up because he’d be dead, and he answered the genius’ worried response with a photo of James’ bike.
Peter snickered when Tony complained about old age and grey hair, rolling his eyes as the texts got more and more ridiculous.
It passed the time, and it was only a few minutes before James came out of the house. The man's cheeks were flushed a dark red under his stubble, and his grin was contagious where it was stretched across his face. Peter smiled back at him, and he held out his hand for a fist bump that James returned slowly once he was close enough.
Peter opened his mouth to tease him, but James beat him to it.
"I don't wanna hear nothin’,” James warned, waggling his finger in Peter’s face. "Don't you forget, I saw that hug between you ‘n Hulk, ‘n I saw just how much you were enjoyin’ it."
Peter gasped, faux outraged, and he shoved at James' shoulder even when the man passed by him and tossed him a bike helmet. He’d been, like, peripherally aware that James drove a motorcycle, but knowing it and being about to ride it were two very, very different things.
Oh god, was Peter about to die?
"I'm not gonna die, am I? I'm way too young and pretty to die, James!”
"Oh, can it," James muttered, not even bothering with a helmet himself and instead just straddling the bike. Peter didn't say anything, sure that the Winter Soldier had been through things far worse than a motorcycle accident, but he also strapped on his own helmet immediately. He'd probably be fine too, but it still made him feel safer. "Hop on."
"I'm coming," Peter grumbled, but he did swing his leg over the bike and wrap his arms tightly around James' stomach.
Then he scooted even closer. He didn't even care if it was a little too close for comfort, he wasn't totally sure he was gonna live through the drive and he wasn't going to take any chances. If he had to cuddle up with James to protect his life, he’d do it.
Besides, it wasn’t like he and Ned hadn’t spent the morning cuddling. Bro cuddling was the best cuddling!
Still, he eyed the back of James’ head with suspicion. "You can drive this though, right?"
"'Course I can," James told him, before he started the engine and revved the bike loudly.
Oh god. The machine vibrated through him, and Peter slowly grinned as the feeling washed over him.
He liked it, he decided. He liked the way he could feel the bike in his toes, the vibration soothing as it settled over his limbs. Peter smiled wider, moving even closer to James' warmth just to be absolutely sure he wouldn't slide off during the drive, and he took a deep breath right before they kicked off the cement.
If he screamed at the first corner they took, it was only because James was not adhering to the speed limit.
Peter took a deep breath as he clenched his hands into tight fists, digging his fingers into his palms and wishing that he didn’t have his suit on so he could feel the bite of his fingernails. He slowly blew the breath out through his nose as he tried his very best to bite his tongue and keep his mouth shut.
His head was pounding with an anger-induced headache that didn’t feel like it was going to quit anytime soon. His jaw ticked from clenching it so tightly. Tension was built up in his shoulders, and he was sitting so stiffly that it hurt. He forced himself not to say anything, but fuck was he pissed off.
This wasn't his place. It wasn't his argument. Hell, it wasn't even his team . He didn’t work with them. He didn’t like them. He didn’t have to fucking argue with them no matter how goddamn stupid they were being.
Technically, he didn’t even have to be at this freaking debriefing!
But... it was the man he liked that they were all talking about. Not only that, but they were also talking about the man's giant green alter ego who Peter also liked, which kinda meant that they were shit-talking two people that Peter had big, inappropriate crushes on.
And, well, Peter had never been good with sitting silent when the ones he loved— liked, oh my god Peter what was wrong with you?—were being treated poorly.
And a team bashing against Hulk definitely fell under the “being treated poorly” umbrella.
Holy heck. Who knew the Avengers were such freaking bullies?
Forcing himself to take another very deep breath, Peter leaned back in his seat and narrowed his eyes, the slits of his mask doing the same with a little mechanic whir. Peter loved Karen for it, since she totally controlled what the eye sockets of his mask did. He could only hope that he looked intimidating, sitting stock-still with his hands clenched into fists that were resting on his thighs.
He could feel the heat of James' arm from where it was thrown over the back of his chair and he could sense Tony's tension on his other side. He knew that he wasn’t the only one who was upset with what the others were spouting, and that made him feel a little bit better about being so angry.
In fact, Peter was endlessly glad that he had those two on his side. Tony was a given, of course. He liked Hulk a lot on his own, and while he certainly didn’t like Hulk like Peter liked him, they were totally friends in their own way. And that meant Peter wasn’t the only one who was mad!
In fact, even James seemed mad. His face was pinched when Peter shot a look at him, which was actually really close to the same look that Captain America had worn when James first plopped right down beside Peter. Captain America clearly hadn’t been expecting it, but Peter hadn’t either, and he’d been pleasantly surprised.
He’d been even happier when James and Tony had nodded at each other with pleasant expressions, which had actually seemed to upset Captain America even more.
It had been awesome.
The pinched, constipated expression on his stupid face had been hilarious, especially when it had gotten even darker when James threw an arm around the back of his chair.
But the look that was now across the Captain's face wasn't funny at all. It was full of scorn, with the way his eyebrows were pulled down low over his forehead as the footage from their most recent mission played out as a holographic projection from the centre of the table so they could all see it.
They had already watched it all the way through once, so Peter didn't bother paying attention too closely. He didn’t care what they were trying to show them all. Well he did, but not enough to watch the video all over again.
Even though he didn’t really care, Peter still perked up when he noticed that near the end of the fight the video stopped, skipped, and then started again, only it was focused on Peter carrying Bruce onto the Quinjet.
Huh. They hadn’t gotten to that part last time, apparently.
Peter sat up a little straighter and narrowed his eyes even further. There was absolutely nothing good that could come out of any of their mouths, and he knew it.
"We don't understand what happened here.” Black Widow was leaning casually in her seat, though she pointed towards the video feed. Her voice was silky smooth. It made Peter feel sick. "The video cuts out right before Doctor Strange managed to destroy the bots—"
Peter stopped listening as sheer rage swirled up his stomach and made his chest feel tight. They didn’t understand what happened there. They didn’t understand what happened there. No mention of Hulk’s injury. No concern about the gaping wound he’d received during the fight. Absolutely no care shown to their teammate.
Of course none of them would have cared enough to notice. It wasn’t like Hulk had shouted so loud that the ground had literally started freaking shaking! Peter's shoulders shook with his next breath, rage making it hard to breathe, and it was only when James squeezed his shoulder tightly that he clued back into what Captain America was saying.
Unsurprisingly, it was stupid.
“—and that footage is gone. We don't know what happened with the Hulk, only that Spider-Man carried Bruce over to us. We have asked, but we haven't gotten a straight answer yet. Tony? Do you have any updates on the missing footage?"
"Wha—hmm? Oh? Oh, the footage? Yeah, nope, don't have anything for you at all, Spangles. I really have no idea what may have happened to it. No idea at all, truly! "
Despite his mounting irritation, Peter smiled widely underneath his mask, glad that the fabric would cover his grin. He knew exactly what this footage would show considering it had happened just yesterday, and he was infinitely thankful that no one else would be able to see it.
He wouldn’t ever want the other Avengers to watch that.
The hug he and Hulk shared felt like something private. He’d told Ned about it. He’d muttered something to James about it. Tony had clearly seen it, with the way that he was covering it up. But the others hadn’t. The ones who felt like a threat more often than not. The ones who didn’t care about Hulk. They hadn’t seen it, and Peter was so thankful for that.
He also made a note to thank Karen, since he was pretty sure it was probably her doing that got the footage erased in the first place.
He’d also have to make sure that Bruce watched it, because if there was anything that was going to convince Bruce that Hulk was a kind, gentle man, maybe the hug they shared could be it.
"Tony, this isn't a joke.” Captain Rogers' voice was filled with scolding. It wasn’t the first time Peter had heard him talk to Tony like that, and he was sure as hell it wouldn’t be the last. “You know that we need to monitor the Hulk in case its involvement on their field becomes a danger. We don’t know its level of control. Bruce doesn’t even know its level of control! That’s why it’s so important that we have ample coverage of all instances in which it's unleashed so we know if it's going to become a threat."
“Don’t talk for my Brucie-Bear, Spangles,” Tony said sharply. “We all know that Hulk isn’t the danger you’re making him out to be. Have you all forgotten what triggered Hulk’s last rampage? The only one he’s been on since he was first conceived?”
“We don’t know that he's in control, and it isn’t fair to bring that up,” Black Widow cut in. “In fact, we don’t know anything about the Hulk, do we? How are we supposed to trust something we know nothing about?”
Maybe it was because he didn’t really like Black Widow and her insistence that everything bad in the world happened because of Tony and his “ego”. Maybe it was because Peter could still remember how warm Hulk had been around him, or the way that Bruce’s fingers had felt against his forearm. Maybe it was because Peter was less and less willing to put up with the absolute bullshit that these dumbasses spouted all the damn time.
Whatever it was, Peter had had enough.
"Can we stop talking about Hulk as though he has no autonomy? He's his own person, and I know none of you have given him the chance to prove it, but he's actually really smart, and really, really compassionate!" Peter said, unable and unwilling to stay quiet any longer.
Tony was the only one who was talking about Hulk like he was a person and not just some thing. Hell, they were talking about Hulk like he was some sort of weapon that he’d never asked to be, and Peter couldn’t sit around and let them all talk about Hulk like that any longer.
Especially because he was the reason the footage they all seemed to want to see so badly was missing.
"The Hulk is a green rage monster that's a danger to everyone around it," Hawkeye drawled, balancing back on his chair.
Bruce sucked in a sharp breath. Peter knew that only three of them would have heard it; Captain Rogers didn’t look over, James squeezed his shoulder, and Peter turned his head to see the way Bruce's entire face went pale under the hatred in Hawkeye’s voice. The older man’s eyes were wide, and his lips stood out starkly against his sudden pallor.
Peter snapped.
He stood quickly, and in one easy move, slammed a single fist down onto the large round table that took up most of the room so hard that it cracked clear down the middle and split in two.
The movement ruined Hawkeye’s perch and he fell over, landing on his back with a wheeze. In the next breath, the entire room fell still, a deafening silence settling over the entire team. It was as if they collectively decided not to breathe, and it rang in Peter’s ears.
"You will all watch how you speak about him going forward," Peter growled, his voice darker than he'd ever heard. "Hulk isn't the only one who's a danger to everyone around them, and I don't think you want to know just how easy it would be for me to snap you in half."
"Kid—" Captain Rogers had the same reprimand in his voice that he always had with Tony, and Peter was freaking done.
"You will address me as Spider-Man or nothing else. I am not an Avenger. I have not signed the Accords. I work independently and I will help out because I choose to, not because I have to.” Peter took a deep breath and levelled Captain Rogers a glare from behind his mask. “I don't think you want to make an enemy out of me, Captain. Draw a line. Go on. It'll be interesting to see who sides with you after you ruined their lives last time, don't you think?"
The silence returned. It was even heavier than before, and no one else seemed to be brave enough to break it. Peter didn’t care. He didn’t care about any of them, and he especially didn’t care about them now.
Peter made sure to sweep his eyes over the Avengers across from him, all people he would consider enemies if asked. He would work with them, sure, but they had hurt Tony, every single one of them, and for that Peter would never be able to forgive them. It didn't matter that Tony had tried to move on, that he let the Avengers back into his Tower and had gotten them pardoned even after everything they’d done to him.
Captain America had left him for dead, and that was something Peter would never forgive. Now, the very team that had abandoned Tony, was reprimanding Hulk for being a threat. As if they hadn’t done the most damage. As if they weren’t the ones who couldn’t be trusted when it mattered.
Fuck, it infuriated him. All of it. All of them. The way they acted like they could do no wrong. Like they were better than others.
They weren’t.
Peter let out a harsh breath through his nose, considered them one last time, and then he turned his back and dismissed the team as a threat. Honestly, they weren’t one. If he really thought about it, the only one he was really worried about was Black Widow, and maybe, maybe, Ant-Man if he had his suit on him. The others? They weren't a threat, and Peter made sure it was obvious they knew he thought so.
Bruce was sitting only a few seats away, not quite on either side, but Peter was hoping that would change soon enough. It probably would, especially after today. While Bruce hadn’t been around for the “Civil War”, he’d always sided more with Tony than the others. Peter could understand why he’d sat in the middle, but by the look on Bruce’s face, that was over with.
He stopped directly in front of him, not allowing himself to wring his hands together or rub the back of his neck like he so desperately wanted to. He ignored the anxiety that was climbing up his belly and making it hard to breathe. After all, he’d just told off the Avengers.
He could do anything.
Peter took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.
"Bruce," Peter said, his voice an entire world softer than it had been only moments before. He ignored the eyes he could feel on his back, ignored the way his awareness was pinging with threat, and refused to show any sign of weakness. "Are those blood results ready yet?"
"They are," Bruce told him in a whisper, his eyes wide as he stared up at Peter.
Peter never wanted him to look away.
"Good. C-could we look over them? Maybe?" Peter asked, feeling silly when he stuttered and hating the way his cheeks turned pink under his mask.
Thank god no one could see them, though it was probably pretty obvious he was nervous. He started tapping his fingers against his thigh, and he held in a relieved breath when Bruce nodded.
All the nerves in the world were worth it for the smile Bruce gave him, something small and private and only for them, and his heart nearly fluttered out of his freaking chest with having it directed up at him.
"I would love that," Bruce told him seriously, and Peter's face went even redder.
Still, he smiled back. Then he realized he had his mask on, so he started nodding his head too just so Bruce would know he’d heard him and was happy. He was too caught up in Bruce's eyes to realize he needed to move back, and when the older man stood up, it put them nearly chest to chest.
Oh my god, Peter thought, heart palpitating.
He laughed awkwardly before he took a hasty step back, finally giving in and rubbing the back of his neck, and he gestured for Bruce to lead him from the room. Bruce smiled down at him, and he inclined his head before he started walking towards the door. Peter didn’t look back, and he left the heavy silence behind them.
Peter tore his mask off the second they were in the elevator together, slumping back against the wall and hanging his head down between his shoulders. The weight of everything that he’d just done, everything that he’d just said, hit him heavily.
He was exhausted.
He was also a little in awe of himself, because holy cow. Peter couldn't believe he'd reacted that way. As awed as he was, there was also a very hefty dose of surprise. Sure, he'd been angry. He’d been really, really angry—furious, even—at the way the Avengers were talking about Hulk, but he shouldn't have freaked out the way he had. Not only was it unprofessional—which, in fairness, they’d been pretty unprofessional, too—but he hated using his powers for such mundane things.
He’d been given these powers to protect people. Intimidating the Avengers was certainly not what his super strength was for.
Even if he had sort of been protecting Hulk.
Yeah… that was kinda a stretch.
Forcing himself out of his own head, Peter shot his gaze across the elevator for the first time. He found Bruce already watching him, a look stretched across his face that Peter didn't know what to do with.
Bruce’s eyes were heavy. Even if they were filled with something that Peter couldn't quite make out, the weight of them was easy to feel. It felt like he was being studied by Bruce, like the older man thought that he was something that needed to be figured out. It made him want to squirm. Instead, he took a deep breath and stood still, not wanting Bruce to think that having his eyes on him made Peter uncomfortable.
They didn’t. They really, really didn’t. Peter did his best to stand tall and look back, watching Bruce the way that Bruce was watching him. The last time he’d had the chance to look at Bruce like this, Peter had been a little distracted with the way he was getting his blood taken. Since Bruce drawing his blood had resulted in Bruce’s hands on him, Peter had been a little overwhelmed.
Without those distractions now, he was able to simply look. Bruce was handsome. Bruce was so handsome. Considering Dr. Bruce Banner had been spank bank material since Peter first started spanking, he always knew that. But there was something different now. Meeting him had shaped Peter’s attraction from something that merely existed in his fantasies into something real, something that he felt like he could touch.
It was something that he wanted to reach out for, but he wasn’t sure how.
The silence between them dragged on. Peter had no idea what to say or how to break the heavy atmosphere that was hanging between them. He wasn’t even sure he could break it. The moment they'd shared in the conference room was lost, and left between them was a tension Peter wasn't sure how to ease.
He fiddled with his mask, running his thumb along the fabric in a soothing back and forth motion. He waited until he couldn’t wait any longer.
"I'm sorry," Peter whispered. He wrapped an arm around his waist and scratched at his suit. It felt too tight, and as he waited and watched, the air felt too stale.
"What the hell for?" Bruce demanded, and Peter's eyes widened as his mouth dropped open in shock.
That hadn’t been what he was expecting. He'd never heard the man sound so… aggressive before. His voice had been sharp, like he was gearing up for a fight, and Peter didn't know what to do with it. Bruce always seemed so calm. Sure, Peter hadn’t known him for that long, but in all the tapes he’d seen of Bruce interacting with the avengers or the press, he’d been level-headed and collected. So much so that the show of emotion took Peter aback.
It was jarring compared to the last time that they had spent time together, holed away in Bruce's lab. This Bruce, who stared at him with an angry-looking frown twisting his features down, was so very different to the Bruce he’d seen then and the gentle intimacy that had twined through the moment they'd shared.
Peter didn't know how to explain exactly what he meant, but he tried to anyway.
"I don't think you're helpless or that you can't stand up for yourself, it's just… I didn't like what they were saying. Everyone thinks that Hulk is just some mindless beast, and it isn't true!" Peter waved his hands around as he spoke, his voice rising in volume as his earlier anger reignited. "He's so much more than some—some… some green rage monster! He's smart and he's kind and he learns really, really quickly when he’s given the chance, and he listens to me when I talk to him! He understands what I ask him and he's—he's so much more than everyone seems to think he is, and I hate that they won't even try to get to know him! It isn't fair!"
"Peter…"
"I don't want to hear it from you either, mister,” Peter said firmly, putting his hands on his hips and staring Bruce down. “I know you might not think the best things about Hulk, and I get it—well, I don't get it, but I can imagine it's pretty hard having to share mind space with someone else, especially if you don't particularly get along. I don’t know what that’s like, really, but… it can’t be easy, yeah? And I do totally get things not being easy, so I know how you think about him. And I’m not going to tell you that you’re wrong for feeling how you do, because that sure as heck isn’t simple, but the others are.
“Hulk is good, Bruce, he's just never been given the opportunity to prove it. He’s never been allowed to be anything but what everyone else already thinks he is, which sure as heck isn’t much."
Once he was done, Peter slumped back against the elevator's wall, his whole body deflating as he let out a long breath through his nose. He dropped his eyes to the floor, worried that he had already revealed too much. Yeah, he had a crush on Hulk, but that didn’t change anything he was saying. Hulk was more than people gave him credit for. Peter had seen that first hand, and he was ready to go to bat against whoever he needed to.
He just hoped that Bruce wouldn’t question him about why he cared so much. He had no idea what he would say if the older man did, but it would probably be embarrassing and way too revealing.
If Peter still wasn’t totally sure how he felt about the massive crush he had on Hulk, he sure as heck wasn’t ready to tell Hulk’s alter ego about it.
The lift was silent for another long moment, no noise other than their breathing. Peter had worked himself up enough that he was panting, just a little bit, and he scratched at his side uncomfortably, itching to get to his room and change back into his clothes and out of his suit.
Wrapped up in his suit, he felt too exposed. He could still feel Bruce’s eyes on him, but he didn’t look up. Not yet.
Finally, Bruce cleared his throat and said, "Look, I don't… I don't know if Hulk is more than people think he is, but you think he's more. And honestly, you've talked to him more than anyone else and he… FRIDAY showed me the footage from yesterday. I’m the one who asked her to delete it, which is why Tony was covering for me. I-I know that it would help prove his case, but… I didn’t want the others to see it. He was so gentle with you.
“I still don't remember everything that happens when he takes over, but I've been getting bits and pieces, little glimpses of memories and they all… they're all about you, Peter."
Peter flushed darkly, suddenly wishing for his mask as he ducked his head in hopes of hiding the ridiculous, love-sick smile that had taken over his face. He couldn’t push it down, and as Bruce’s words echoed over and over in his ears, he felt his face go warm. The fluttering in his heart and overwhelming warmth in his chest was definitely a sign that his crush on Hulk was real, and not something he was going to be getting over any time soon.
Ah, shit.
"He cares about you," Bruce told him plainly, and when Peter looked up, the man's face was tinted pink. Well, at least he wasn't the only one blushing. Bruce's face did something complicated before settling into an expression that Peter didn't recognize but wanted to see more of. "I care about you as well," Bruce told him, his voice quiet but steady. "I'm glad that if Hulk has a… friend, that it’s you."
Peter ducked his head in a useless attempt to hide his worsening blush. His entire face must have been red, he knew, and the love-sick smile he was wearing only grew wider. He had to physically restrain himself from jumping with joy, and he knew he was so far gone it wasn't even funny.
Hulk liked him. Heck, it sounded like even Bruce liked him. They cared about him, both of them, which was already more than Peter ever expected to have. Sure, it may have been platonic, but it was real now. It wasn’t him trying to convince himself that Bruce wanted to see him. It wasn’t him imagining Hulk picking him up with care.
They cared about him!
Thankfully, before he could say something soul-crushingly embarrassing, the doors slid open with a pleasant ding and Peter paid a silent thank you to FRIDAY.
She had the best timing.
Peter forced himself to take a deep breath, calm down, and then say something that wasn’t totally overbearing and weird.
"Thank you, Bruce. I'm glad that I'm his friend, too," Peter told him, doing his best to make it sound as honest as possible and not let the little bead of disappointment slip into his voice as he spoke.
He was glad to be Hulk's friend, and it absolutely did not matter whatsoever if he possibly wanted to be more. With both of them. Nope, they cared about him, and Peter was letting that knowledge carry him through any disappointment he may have felt at the possible platonic state of their relationship.
Bruce nodded his head. His own smile looked a little silly, and Peter felt proud for putting it there.
"Well, here we are," Bruce said as the doors slid open, waving a hand at his floor.
Peter snorted kindly, giving him a wide smile.
"Do you actually mind if I just go get changed quickly?" Peter asked, rubbing his hip again. "The suit isn't exactly the best for hanging out in."
Bruce's face did something, but then he was smiling as well. "Sure. I'll go ahead to the lab and get those samples out, yeah?"
"Okay," Peter told him, his eyes slipping down to watch his ass as he stepped out of the elevator before snapping back to his face guiltily. "I'll be quick!"
"Don't rush. It'll take me a bit to set up anyway, so take your time."
Peter nodded, giving him another smile as the doors slid shut.
Peter rushed himself through a really quick shower. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to shower, exactly, but when he got up to his room and stepped out of his suit, something had urged him to step into his bathroom and quickly clean himself off. He'd kept his hair out of the water in one of the little caps Tony kept in the bathroom, and he used whatever overly expensive body wash was inside the stall without the guilt that usually came when he took advantage of the luxuries Tony made available for him.
He told himself multiple times that it wasn't a date, but that didn't stop the nervous excitement that had started building inside his chest the second the elevator doors closed.
When he got dressed, he made sure to carefully pick out the jeans that Tony had gotten for him a few months ago. They fit like they were tailored to him—which they probably were, considering it was from Tony—and an MIT hoodie that he felt comfortable in. The pants would look good (really good, Peter admitted to himself as he looked at his butt in the mirror), but the sweater would help ease some of the anxiety that was mixing with the nerves in his chest.
He tried to do something with his hair, but gave up and did his best to tuck the curls away from his face, desperately needing a haircut. When he looked as good as he was going to get, he took a really, really deep breath before he forced himself out of his room.
The elevator ride was nerve-wracking. Really nerve-wracking.
As much as Peter reminded himself that it wasn't a date and that all they were doing was reviewing his blood work, it felt like so much more. The way that Bruce had looked at him in the elevator, the way he’d told him that both he and Hulk cared for him?
It felt like something more. The last time it had just been them… well, Peter hadn’t ever gotten his blood taken before, but he was pretty sure having blood drawn didn’t usually include intense eye contact and earth-shattering finger touches.
No. No, it definitely hadn't felt like simple blood work, and the conversation they'd had after leaving the debrief had been even more intense in some ways. No matter what he tried to think about to get his mind off it, the way Bruce had told him that he cared about him repeating over and over in his head.
So much so that his cheeks started to flush just from the memory alone. Ugh, get it together, Parker!
The elevator dinged, and Peter's heart leapt up into his throat. He wiped his hands off on his jeans, tucking them into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie to hide the fact that they were sorta shaking. They weren’t shaking a lot, but there was, like, a fine tremor running through them that he couldn't stop no matter how many deep breaths he took or zen thoughts he focused on.
God, he could save the world, but he couldn't handle being alone with the man he had a crush on? He was Spider-Man! This was nothing! He could totally handle spending time with Bruce, alone, in his lab, the same lab that they'd shared a… well, Peter certainly wanted to call it a moment, but would Bruce think it was a moment?
Oh god, what if he was the only one who thought it was a moment? What if Bruce didn’t think anything of it at all? What if he—
The elevator doors started to close again.
Oh no. Pushing himself forward, Peter stepped out of the elevator before his thoughts could spiral any deeper. It was only a short walk to the lab, but one he spent gnawing on his bottom lip as he picked at the skin around his fingers—two nervous habits he was constantly trying to kick. Clearly his nerves had disregarded the pep talk he’d given them, and he took a deep breath that did absolutely nothing to calm him down before finally stepping up to the lab.
When he finally looked up from the floor and took in the lab, his breath caught in his throat as he stared, struck dumb by what was in front of him.
Holy crap. Holy crap, what…
One of the lab tables was covered in a white table cloth that was lined with lace, adorned by two tall candles that were burning despite the lab's lights being on. There were glasses filled with what he assumed to be water, with plates and utensils set up in front of two stools that had been placed around one of the tables' corners.
Peter blinked, blinked again, then he closed his eyes and counted to thirty and—it was all still there. Nothing changed, not even when he lightly pinched the back of his hand.
His heart rate kicked up, beating so loudly it was all he could hear echoing in his ears as his fingers went numb. He finally remembered to breathe, sucking in a sharp breath that didn't change what he was seeing, but did ease the sudden burning in his lungs. What…
God, what was going on? He walked closer, taking everything in with wide, awed eyes and trying to stop himself from hoping it meant what it wanted to.
It couldn’t, right? Maybe… maybe Bruce had someone else in the lab earlier? Maybe he’d arranged a date, but it hadn’t been with him. Maybe there was another reason that the lab was so decorated?
Footsteps sounded out, and Peter turned to find Bruce walking in behind him.
"Oh, hi," Bruce said, his glasses slipping down his nose as he put a steaming container down on the cloth-covered table. It brought them close together, but Peter felt too dumbstruck to move.
Bruce had obviously gone and changed as well, since he was now dressed in fitted slacks and a dress shirt that was such a pale purple it was nearly white, but looked absolutely gorgeous on his tanned skin. Peter's heart climbed even further up his throat, making it so Peter could barely breathe as his eyes raked up and down Bruce's frame, helpless to do anything but stare stupidly.
When his brain finally started moving again, there was only one thing he could think to say.
"You look really good!" he blurted, loudly, cursing his lack of filter even as he flushed darkly. But then Bruce blushed too, a stain of pink high on his cheeks, and it gave him the confidence to add, "Like, really good."
"Thank you, Peter," Bruce told him softly, his lips curving into a smile so soft it made Peter's heart ache.
They were still standing close together. Peter wasn’t even sure he was alive.
He beamed up at him, bouncing on the balls of his toes, and he found the strength to ask, "What's all this?"
"I wasn't sure when the last time you ate was, but it's dinner time and I had some stuff in the fridge and I thought… well, actually, now I’m not so sure what I was thinking. I-It was silly." Bruce ducked his head, his shoulders curving forward as he stared down at the ground with a look on his face that made Peter's heart twist painfully.
Nope. Nope, there was no way Bruce was going to look like that after he’d gotten dinner for them!
"No, Bruce," Peter said quickly, all but leaping forward to erase the last bit of space between them. He wrapped a gentle hand around Bruce's forearm, and shuffled further into his space. "I don't think it's silly at all." He smiled shyly at the man in front of him, taking a deep breath to build enough courage to say, "Thank you. This is really, really sweet."
Bruce's face flushed even darker, and the way his lips curled into a smile was enough to give Peter just the littlest bit more confidence, and he raised himself onto his toes so he could press a kiss to Bruce's cheek, lingering so he could feel the tug of stubble against his upper lip. He breathed heavily through his nose before he settled back on the balls of his feet.
When he pulled back enough to look up, Bruce's face was so red it was almost funny, and Peter had to hold himself back from fist-bumping in pure glee.
His crush blushing because Peter had kissed him on the cheek was totally a good sign, right?
Thinking about that would only lead to another thought spiral, so Peter pushed that thought out of his mind. Instead, he hopped onto one of the stools Bruce had set out, tugging the container of steaming food a bit closer. It smelt good, spicy and rich, and Peter groaned loudly while he took another deep breath.
Oh god, he was hungry.
Bruce tripped over his stool, and Peter immediately reached out to steady him with a hand on his chest. Only, then he had a hand on Bruce’s chest, and he got distracted by the way he could feel the warmth of Bruce's skin, and he didn't pull his hand away for an awkwardly long time, his thumb tracing little circles into the silky fabric of Bruce's shirt.
It was very soft, and Bruce was very warm, but the minute what he was doing set it, he snatched his back and forced a very unconvincing laugh.
Then he turned to the food.
"What's this?" Peter asked quickly, going ahead and getting himself a very hefty serving in an attempt to ignore the fact that he'd totally just groped Bruce and Bruce had stood there while he did.
He hadn’t even protested!
Bruce shuffled into his own stool, and Peter totally did him a solid and didn’t call him out for the way he kinda tripped again, only this time he tripped onto his stool. He cleared his throat loudly, and when Peter shot his eyes up at him, he looked a little embarrassed.
So Peter kicked his foot under the table, gently, and shot him a little smile before he started serving Bruce, too, since he was sorta just sitting there.
He hadn't been particularly hungry before, but now that the aroma of food had sunk into his senses, he was starving.
"It’s just sausage and rice," Bruce told him, smiling as he got onto his own stool. Their knees knocked together, and Peter forced himself to keep his where it was. Bruce did the same, and their knees kept in contact even as he placed the container of food on the table. "I'm not too much of a cook, but I've lived all over. There aren't always places to go get food from, so I had to learn to make some things just to survive."
"That's cool! I’m not really much of a cook myself, but I can make a few really simple things. My Aunt is even worse," Peter told him, scooping a forkful and shoving it into his mouth.
Despite the heat, flavour exploded in his mouth and he moaned, closing his eyes as he savoured the spicy richness that burst onto his tongue when he bit into a chunk of smoky sausage. Oh my god, that was so good.
He swallowed, wiping his tongue over his teeth before finally opening his eyes from where they’d fallen closed. Bruce was staring at him, his own eyes dark and his gaze heavy, and Peter shivered even as he stuttered out, "I-It's really good."
"Thank you," Bruce told him, and his voice was rougher than Peter had ever heard it before. It rumbled out of his chest in a way that made him feel a little lightheaded. For a moment, green began to line his eyes as he made a rumbling noise like a purr, before he took a deep breath and seemed to calm down. "I appreciate that a lot."
Peter flushed. He flushed really darkly, and he ignored the warm arousal swirling around his belly, caused by the loss of control and the knowledge that it was him who had caused the Hulk to peek out. It made him smile down at his bowl of food even as his cock twitched in his pants. God, he was so gone on those two it was stupid.
Sitting in Bruce’s personal lab, eating food that Bruce had cooked at a table covered in a table cloth, beside Bruce who had gotten dressed up, Peter realized that he was gone. There would never be anyone else for him, he was sure about it.
They ate quietly for a few minutes. Peter kept looking up to find Bruce already watching him, and his heart started racing every time it happened.
“So, I have those blood work results,” Bruce told him after clearing his throat. Bruce was mostly done, but Peter was happily scarfing down his second serving. Peter smiled at him gratefully, glad that they could still talk even with the tension threatened between them. “And I think you’ll be interested in some of it.”
Peter nodded quickly, pushing away whatever inappropriate thoughts were still lingering, and focused on what Bruce was telling him.
The rest of it could wait. Now that Peter was absolutely certain about what he wanted—and pretty close to certain that Bruce wanted it to—there was no reason to rush. For now, he’d enjoy dinner, learn about his mutation, and bask in Bruce’s warm, steady presence.