Chapter Eight
“Breathe, Bambi. You’ll be fine,” Darcy insisted, swatting Peter across the back of the head.
“I’ll be fine when you stop playing dress up with me,” Peter growled. “I’m perfectly capable of dressing myself, Darcy. I’ve done it for a while.
Darcy wrinkled her nose. “Peter. This is your first date. You need me.”
“Yes, well, you do date a lot more than I do,” Peter smirked.
“Uh oh,” Clint muttered from the corner.
“Did you just call me a whore, pretty boy?” Darcy squawked. “I will tase you, Bambi! Don’t test me!”
Peter held up his hands in surrender. Darcy thrust a black sweater at him and commanded him to put it on. Peter let out a weary sigh and slipped behind the sheet Clint had hung from the bottom of the balcony. On the other side of the makeshift curtain, Peter heard a door swing open.
“What’s going on?” Tony asked, his voice curious.
“Fashion show,” Clint explained.
Tony made a choking noise that Peter was pretty sure was a laugh. He stepped out in the sweater, shoulders slumped and a grimace on his face. To his utter horror, it seemed that everyone had decided to gather around the counter in his absence.
Darcy’s jaw dropped a little. “God. Damn.”
Natasha nodded, her lips quirking up at the corners.
“Oh, Peter, you look so handsome!” Steve cooed.
Peter felt a flush creeping up his face. He ducked his head and scratched behind his ears.
“Hey, Bambi!” Darcy whistled. “Stop blushing and go put those other jeans on. The tighter ones.”
Peter did as he was told, feeling his cheeks burn. He buttoned the jeans and, before he could even step back out, Darcy was thrusting a pair of shoes around the curtain.
“Put them on,” she instructed, yanking the curtain down.
Peter knelt to slip them on and tie the laces. “I don’t know why you’re doing all of this. I’m just going to hang out with Wade. It’s not a big deal.”
Darcy scoffed.
“Bullshit,” Clint coughed into his fist.
“Seriously!” Peter stood. “We’re just seeing a movie. We do that all the time.”
“And having dinner,” Darcy added.
Peter rolled his eyes. “Yeah a burger and a beer from Mike’s, which is what we do at least once a week.”
“Beer?” Steve’s ears perked up visibly.
Darcy flapped her hands desperately. “But you weren’t dating then! Now that you are, it’s like your usual date spot! God, that’s so cute. I’ve never had a usual date spot. Well…no, I guess the backseat of my car doesn’t really count.”
There was a crash and they all turned to stare at Clint, who had tripped and smacked his head on the display case.
“Sorry. Mental image,” Clint winced.
Darcy shot him the look of death. “What is this, ‘Darcy’s A Whore Day’ or something? First Peter, now you! Anybody else want to make a comment? Tony, you want to take a shot? Thor? No? How about you, Bruce? Come on, everybody’s doing it!”
The bakery went deathly silent. Clint’s face went slack. Peter reached out to touch her shoulder, but his hand hovered about it, unsure of what her reaction would be. Loki was next to her in the blink of an eye. He took her elbow and swept her outside into the autumn air. The occupants of the bakery watched their exit, their faces in different stages of shock.
“What just happened?” Clint whispered.
They all seemed to be looking at Peter for the answer.
He swallowed past a lump in his throat. “I don’t know. She’s never…I’ve never…I don’t know.”
Natasha had an odd look on her face. “I’m going to check on her.”
She patted Peter’s shoulder on her way out and waited for the door to close completely before joining Darcy and Loki on the bench in front of the bakery.
“I should make an apology cake,” Clint murmured.
Tony looked at him in disbelief. “Are you shitting me? You’re going to need a lot more than a cake, genius.”
A horn honked outside and Peter felt his chest tighten. “The car that honked. What does it look like?”
Tony craned his neck. “Bright red. White racing stripes.”
Peter swore and ran a hand through his hair, looking around feverishly for his wallet. Steve handed it to him, smiling at the boy’s frantic movements. Peter called out a goodbye as he stumbled out the door. Outside, Wade spoke to Darcy through the open window, his forehead wrinkled in concern. Peter stooped to sling an arm around her shoulders and gave her a friendly peck on the temple. She wiped at her eyes and pushed him away playfully. Peter slid into the car, giving a final wave before Wade beeped the horn and pulled into traffic. Steve stood staring out the front window, his eyes on the red car.
Tony walked up behind him, sliding his arms around Steve’s waist. “Our little boy’s growing up.”
Steve covered Tony’s hands with his own. “Getting sentimental already, old man?”
Tony gasped. “Bite your tongue!”
“What happened to Darcy?” Wade asked, stopping for a light.
Peter shrugged. “I’m not sure. Clint made a sex joke and she lost it.”
Wade glanced at him, confused. “Everything Clint says is a sex joke. She’s usually the first one to come back with an even more provocative answer. Why’d she freak out this time?”
“Hmm,” Peter bit his lip. “I’m going to go see her in the morning, and figure out what’s going on.”
Wade nodded. “Good plan. Now let’s go check out this movie, shall we?”
Wade insisted on paying for Peter’s ticket, even after Peter told him he got a discount because the owner was a friend of Tony’s.
“You’ll get it next time,” Wade brushed him off. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve got a real jonesing for some Skittles. You’re more of a Twizzler guy, aren’t you?”
Peter nodded, shocked that Wade paid attention to his candy preferences. Wade led him into the theater and stopped at the door.
“Do you want the top?” Wade asked.
Peter choked. “Wh-what?”
“The seats,” Wade elaborated with a knowing grin.
Peter flushed. “Top works.”
Wade snagged two seats in the dead center of the very last row. Peter knew from Darcy that this was considered prime make out real estate. Peter sat on his hands to hide their fidgeting. A few previews in, he felt the tension leaving his shoulders. That lasted all of five minutes, until Wade’s arm found its way across the back of Peter’s seat. Peter felt his eyes widen and forced himself to take a deep breath. He blew it out a lot louder than he meant to, drawing Wade’s attention.
“You okay?” Wade mouthed.
Peter nodded, turning his attention back to the screen. It only took a couple of scenes for him to fall back into the lull he was used to with Wade. An hour and a half later, the lights lifted and Wade followed Peter down the stairs, his hands in his pockets. Wade kept up the light chatter until they got out to the car. Peter opened the door, but Wade’s voice stopped him.
“What’s wrong?” Wade asked.
Peter looked up as Wade leaned his chin against the roof of the car. “Nothing. Why do you ask?”
Wade stared at Peter, watching him closely. Peter shifted awkwardly.
“You ready to get some pizza? There’s a new place just off campus,” Wade spoke finally.
“Yeah! Let’s go,” Peter smiled, ducking into the car.
Over pizza and beer- the waitress never even asked for Wade’s ID- the boys returned to their usual state of laughing and screwing around with each other. They didn’t realize how much time had passed until their waitress cleared her throat dramatically and gestured around the empty room. Wade dropped a few bills on the table and stood. He stretched his arms above his head, his shirt lifting a few inches to reveal his abs. Both Peter and the waitress licked their lips. Wade caught Peter’s eye and winked. Peter scrambled to his feet.
The waitress took her chance, leaning to shove her cleavage in Wade’s face. “How about buying me a drink, honey?”
Peter held his breath, his eyes glued to the front window of the restaurant. Wade’s gaze flickered between him and the waitress.
Wade reached around her and yanked Peter to his side. “Actually I should stay with my date. We should be getting home soon.”
Peter and the waitress wore the same look of utter shock as Wade dragged Peter out of there and shoved him in the car. As soon as they were out of the parking lot, Peter doubled over with laughter, his forehead resting against the dash. Wade glanced at him from the corner of his eye and chuckled.
“Oh my god!” Peter wheezed. “The look…on her face…when you told her…I was your date!”
“It looked exactly like your face when I said you were my date,” Wade teased softly.
Peter’s laughter died off slowly and he gazed across the front seat. “Am I? Your date?”
Wade pulled the car to the curb before turning to look Peter in the eye. “Of course. You didn’t know?”
Peter could feel the goofy grin spreading across his face, but he didn’t care. Wade leaned across the space that separated them, his lips an inch from Peter’s ear.
“Your guard dogs are watching us,” he whispered.
Peter’s spine straightened involuntarily and he jerked around. Surprisingly, they were parked in front of the house. Sure enough, he could make out Tony’s face in the small window above the kitchen sink and Thor and Clint were standing at the bay window in the living room, staring out unabashed.
Peter sighed. “I’m afraid if I don’t go in, they’ll get in the car with us.”
Wade laughed. “Go then. I’ll see you later. And don’t forget to check on Darcy tomorrow.”
Peter stepped out into the night and waved to Wade. He idled until he was sure Peter was inside, then gave the horn a short honk and drove off. Peter shut the door and dropped his forehead to the wooden door. He heard a shuffle, then someone coughed. Peter turned and Tony stared at him expectantly, Steve standing over his right shoulder. Behind them, he could see Natasha blocking in the doorway to the living room, blocking Thor and Clint from storming into the hall.
“Hey,” Peter waved casually. “How’s it going?”
Tony raised his eyebrows. “You tell us. How’d it go with Wade?”
Peter shrugged. “It was okay. The movie was decent. We found a new pizza place. Wade shocked the hell out of out waitress, so that was fun.”
“Do I smell beer?” Steve asked suspiciously.
“Seriously?” Peter’s mouth gaped open. “You’re all the way over there. What do you have a bionic nose?”
“Were you drinking?” Steve continued, ignoring the ‘bionic nose’ comment.
Peter’s shoulders wilted. “It was one beer. I could still drive with that level of alcohol.”
Steve opened his mouth, but Tony cut him off with a hand to his arm. “Go on up to bed, Peter. We’re glad you had fun.”
Clint and Natasha showed up next to last the following morning. Natasha made them run an extra half mile before she permitted them to stop and do their morning shots. Clint took one shot when he stumbled in the door, another after his shower, and his third on their way out the door. Natasha poured her three into a mug and downed it like it was water as soon as they got home. Natasha’s alcohol tolerance was leagues above Clint’s, who wasn’t exactly a lightweight, so she usually drove them to work. She delivered Clint to the base of the ladder and joined Darcy at the counter, where she was folding boxes and going through the list of the day’s deliveries. Natasha started filling the boxes and chatting. They laughed about something and Clint groaned as he hauled himself up the ladder and onto the balcony. He stood up, wobbling for a second and stretching, turning towards his work table.
Perched on his stool and staring over the ledge expectantly was Wade. His gaze shifted slightly to Clint and he lifted his hand in a wave.
Clint stared at him. “I am way too drunk for this.”
Wade reached behind him, producing a cup of coffee from the café down the street. He offered it to Clint without speaking.
Clint took it carefully and sipped. “Okay. You can stay. No drooling and if you eat a cupcake, you have to pretend it fell on the floor or Natasha will glare at you from the counter. Trust me, it’ll burn your shoulders all day. Hit the radio, will you?”
Wade reached over and turned on the radio, his eyes still on the bakery below.