Peter yawned as he walked into the communal living room early in the morning. He would’ve easily slept in until the early afternoon like any other teenager, but after waking up after a bad dream, he couldn’t go back to sleep.
He had been up until the early hours of the morning on a FaceTime call with Ned, discussing this, that and the other. It’s fair to say that the teen didn’t get much sleep last night.
Steve, who had just come in the door after his morning run, heard the soft padding of Peter’s socked feet making their way down the hall. He smiled to himself. He was constantly trying to get Peter to wake up earlier so he could have a better start to his day. Peter seemed to finally cave.
“Mornin’ sport.” He smiled down at Peter’s fuzzy bedhead. They boy didn’t seem too responsive though. ’So much for getting a proper start to the day.’ Steve thought. The kid seemed to be falling asleep right where he stood!
“Mmmph” the teen lazily grumbled. He had one fist curled up, rubbing at his eyes, while the other one was fully stretched upwards.
“Tired hm?” The super soldier ruffled Peter’s hair as he spoke. “You get something to eat. I’m just going to pop up to the shower, I’ll be down in a bit.” He patted the boy’s shoulder twice as he went on his way down the hall.
Peter shuffled into the main kitchen, shivering slightly. He was always chilled in the mornings, regardless of how warm or cold it was.
He paused. Where was everyone? He looked around the empty room and frowned to himself. Usually when he woke up, the place was swarming with the avengers. To be honest, Peter still got his starstruck moments. It’s still so cool that he shares a house with the avenger.
Okay, he doesn’t share the house. He doesn’t even live here full time. But with the amount of nights he spends here, he thinks of it as much as his own apartment.
He shook his head. He was rambling. Even when talking to himself he rambles off.
Steve usually went on his runs early in the morning. And the fact that Peter had seen him and only him, meant that it was-
The boy glanced at the clock hanging above the kitchen window.
Damn it.
“5:45?!” He groaned
He got barely any sleep last night. He was just so tired.
He trudged over to the counter and sat on a bar stool. His head dropped into his arms as his eyes slowly dropped closed. He stayed like that for about 4 minutes until his stomach started growling.
Peter was in no mood to make anything big for breakfast. And he was too hungry to wait for Steve. So he decided to make something simple. Toast.
He went to grab the bread and butter, reaching out to retrieve the toaster. Plugging it in and popping the toast inside, he sighed with contentment.
He walked over to the fridge to pull out the orange juice. He then went to pick a mug. (Tony was always nagging the teen to stop using mugs for orange juice. Peter just preferred mugs.)
As he was pouring his juice, the toaster popped.
He spun around and plucked his toast out and onto a plate. Grabbing a knife from the drawer, he buttered his toast.
He brought his food to the counter and turned to unplug the toaster. With a quick glance into the appliance, he noticed a tiny piece of bread stuck at the bottom. Steve had told him that it was a fire hazard having bits of food in the toaster.
So he made sure to unplug the machine before sticking his hand in.
He retrieved the piece with his two fingers and pulled his hand out, only to find that his hand would not budge.
Shit.
Peter just gawked at his own hand. His hand that was stuck inside the fucking toaster.
He had tried for at least 10 whole minutes to unstick his hand from the toaster. He was still hungry, but his hand was starting to hurt from being squished. His only option was to call for help.
And the only person awake at this ridiculous time in the morning was Steve.
Captain America.
——
Steve had just walked out of the gym showers after his muscle-relaxing shower. His face was fresh and smooth from his shave too.
He was drying off with his towel when he heard the high pitch call of the residential teenager.
It was no ordinary call, it was a ‘can someone please help me. I’m tired.’ Kind of call.
To be honest it sounded like more of a high pitched whine from a child than a teenager.
Nonetheless, Steve made his way to the kitchen, expecting Peter to be wanting breakfast or something like that. What he was not ready for, however, was the sight before his very eyes.
“Pete? Are you oka-”
Peter Parker, was slumped against the kitchen island, leaning on his left hand while his right one was stretched out. And in a toaster.
In a toaster.
“Peter how on Earth did you manage to do that?” The blonde couldn’t help but smirk.
Peter just whined in response. “Uh- hey Steve.”He smiled sheepishly. “I-I uh.. I’m a bit-“ he trailed off, looking down.
“Stuck?” Steve finished, quirking an eyebrow.
“Uh y-yeah. Sorry.” The boy was now a deep shade of crimson. Steve chuckled lightheartedly.
“You don’t have to apologise, squirt. Let’s get this off of you, huh?” He smiled at the teen, who was less closed in on himself.
Peter nodded and held out his arm.
Steve had tried to pull, but that only resulted in Peter squeaking in pain. So they had to scrap that.
Next he tried to use oil to slide Peter’s hand out.
That didn’t work either, Peter’s hand was just uncomfortably oily. His hand didn’t move one bit.
They tried a few more methods afterwards, but none were successful. They ended up having to crush the edges of the toaster to free Peter’s hand.
“Ready?” Steve glanced up at the teen who nodded his head in confirmation. “Okay, 3,2,1-“ he grabbed the side of the toaster and squashed the edge, denting it pretty hard.
Yeah they were going to have to throw it out.
“I’m free!” The boy cheered. He then looked up gratefully at Steve who reciprocated the smile. “Thank you Steve. I’m really sorry to have to bother you.” He looked down sheepishly.
“It’s no trouble, sport. We’re always happy to help you.” He patted the boy’s shoulder.
“Now, care to explain why you had your hand in the toaster?”