Chapter Text
“How has everything been with the mission?” Fury asked over the holochat. He was checking in on you, and maybe finally agreeing to let you go. You had hope, but knowing how stubborn he was, he probably wasn’t going to let you off the hook just yet.
“It’s been fine.” You shrugged. He frowned. “Fine?”
You sighed, trying to find the proper words. “It’s going well. I have made contact with Quill and established a relationship to gain his trust and see what he’s really like. Honestly, he doesn’t seem like a threat.”
“So you’ve formed a bond with him. Does he know anything about you that could compromise the mission?”
“No.” You hesitated for a moment. There was only that one time at the bar when you flipped that guy, but you had easily covered it up by saying it was self-defense. He had also met Wally, but he hardly seemed interested in him. “Not really.”
“And what kind of relationship do you have with Quill?” He questioned.
“We’re friends. Mainly acquaintances. I work with him at the record store. He did tell me about some of his past with the Ravagers and something about someone named Gamora. When he spoke about it, it didn’t seem like he was exactly going to engage in the same behavior, more like he was reminiscing.” You replied.
“I see.” He rubbed his chin, thinking quietly for a few minutes. “But just because you’re friends doesn’t mean you know everything about him. Outlaws like him are unpredictable. Get some more time to know him. Once you have viable proof that he’s not a threat, call me.”
You slumped back in your seat on the couch. Viable proof? What does that even mean? You’ve watched Quill for months and months, you’ve met him and gotten to know him on a personal level. What more proof did you need?
At this point, it felt like Fury was torturing you. He’s dangling a carrot in front of your face and tearing it away once it’s in your reach.
A knock at the door pulled you out of your slump. You slipped off of your couch and went to answer it.
–
Peter stood at your front door, hearing the sound of muffled voices from inside. Once it was quiet, he knocked. When you came over to answer, you did not seem happy.
“Hey, is now a good time?” He asked.
You cringed mentally. Movie Night. You had forgotten. “Yeah, just give me a second.”
After a few moments, you opened the door wider, letting Peter step inside. He gazed around your place, getting his bearings. He didn’t expect it to be so…empty. There were hardly any decorations, no pictures of family, no candles or books. Maybe it was because you were still unpacking, but there were no signs of that either.
“I like your place. It’s very, uh, clean.” He remarked.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Thanks, I guess. I know it’s pretty empty. I didn’t bring much with me for the move and I haven’t had time to buy decorations. Would you like anything to drink? I have water, soda, beer and wine.” You replied.
“I’ll have a beer, thanks.” He settled on your couch while you went through your refrigerator, handing him a beer. You poured yourself a glass of wine. “So, were you talking to someone before I came in?”
You gave him a look. Had he overheard your conversation with Fury?
“It’s just..I heard voices when I was standing at your door and you don’t seem like you’re in a very good mood.” He explained.
You sighed, sitting on the couch beside him and taking a long sip of your wine. “It was my Dad. He and I haven't been getting along lately and we were kind of fighting before you came.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Dads suck.” He grinned. You gave him a small smile in return.
“What’s on the list for today?” You asked, changing the topic. You had created a watch list of things for him to watch to help him get caught up on pop
“Well, I was thinking we could start with those romance movies that you claimed were better than Footloose and then move on to reality TV, whatever that is.”
“Ohh that is an interesting spectrum but I’m here for it.” You smirked. “Why don’t you put on a movie while I get some popcorn and snacks?”
“Sure.” You opened a bag of popcorn and poured it into a bowl, before putting it into the microwave. You stood there listening to it pop.
“This is so weird. You don’t have any DVD players or anything?” He asked as he clicked the television on.
“Oh no. We don’t have to buy these movies or anything. There are streaming services that you can get subscriptions to and you can watch from the selection they have available.” You told him as you joined him on the couch and clicked on Netflix.
“Cool.” He murmured, moving his hand over to the popcorn bowl.
“Alright, are you ready to have your mind blown?” You asked.
“Sure, but just so you know, none of these movies will ever surpass Footloose.”
You rolled your eyes with a smirk. “Just shut up and watch the movie.”
—
Throughout the next couple of hours, you and Peter watched The Notebook, The Titanic, and Ten Things I Hate About You. As it turns out, he’s much more emotional than you imagined, and he teared up quite a few times. Every time you brought it up, he said it was “allergies.” Which was bullsh*t, but he was too stubborn to admit the truth.
You moved on from the movies and were now watching the Kardashians. He loved the drama.
“So, wait, these are real people?” He asked.
“Yeah, they are. They’re just celebrities that have a camera and crew follow them around. I’m sure some of it is scripted, but it’s mainly meant to show how ridiculous and crazy they are.” You replied.
“Huh. I like it.”
There were a lot more things Peter liked, too. While getting caught up on the movies was fun, he loved the way you were watching him even more. He could feel your eyes on him, studying his reactions whenever a big moment came up. It felt nice to be the center of your attention.
He loved how your hands occasionally brushed against one another when you reached for the popcorn at the same time. He loved how close you were. You were never this close before and he could smell your shampoo and see how pretty you were, taking in features that he couldn’t see from where he usually stood.
He kept his arm around the back of the couch, around you. You were sitting close. Your thighs were almost touching his.
It wasn’t until the episode ended that he realized how late it had gotten. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you with an apologetic, “I should go.”
“Awww boo. You’re so lame.” He waited to stay. He really did. But you drank enough wine to the point that you were tipsy. He didn’t want this to become something both you and him regret.
“I know, I suck, but my Grandpa’s waiting for me and I should really be getting back. I had a really good time. Can we do this again?”
“Of course. There’s so much more I have to show you. And..I had a good time too.” You smiled at him. A warm, genuine smile. He really didn’t want to leave. But he knew he had to. “Get home safe.”
“I will. Goodnight, _____.”
“Goodnight, Peter.”
