Poppies

Peter made the trek to Brooklyn; he needed his mom's advice. He could have gone to his aunt, but she'd accepted a job up in Boston and he had class later on. He still marveled at his luck; between Emma and Tony Stark, he had close to a million dollars for his education and could have flown up and back easily, but it seemed like a misuse of his funds, and the money he was making at his job went right into a savings account. And Emma should be around her house; she didn't have class that day and her husband was out of town. He relished the time he could get with just her.

He unlocked the back door and walked into the kitchen, about to call out, but he heard a thud. And she laughed. He relaxed; she probably tripped over Torburn, who had a bad habit of laying down behind her in order to get ear skritches when she turned around, but sometimes it backfired. He raided the cookie jar, squinting at the cookie to make sure it was chocolate chips, not raisins. She swore that raisins were good, but he just didn't like them. She'd fooled him once by using chocolate-covered raisins, so he'd learned never just to bite in without examination.

She groaned, and his head snapped up. "Oh, angel," she said.

"Why do you call me that?" a low, rough voice said. "You know what I've done. I'm more damnation than salvation."

She snorted. "When you're balls-deep in me, I swear I can see heaven," she said bawdily. "I missed you so much."

"It was three days, doll."

"I know. Forever. Now shut up and show me that you missed me too."

"Always, Emma," he said softly. Now he could hear squelchy sounds. Oh, god. The lid to the cookie jar fell out of his hand and the sound of movement stopped dead. Emma came charging through the door, and Peter took one look at her and squeezed his eyes shut, slapping his hands over his eyes just for good measure.

"Sorry, sorry," he called out, hunching. He could hear the rustle of fabric. And a zipper. He cringed.

"It's ok, kid," Bucky said, resigned, and with effort, Peter peeled his hands off his face. His mom had her bra fastened and her blouse buttoned and her skirt hem was uniformly around her knees again. He darted a quick glance at Bucky, who was all zipped up and leaning against the door casing with his arms folded.

"Ok, Pete, what's wrong?" she said. Her gaze fell on the cookie he clutched. "Milk? Those are oatmeal chocolate chip, I know your vendetta against dried grapes." She got down glasses and nudged him over to the table.

Bucky sat down silently. Emma plated cookies absently and herded him over to the table.

"Sorry," he said, mortified.

"You might want to knock first," Bucky said, dipping a crisp cookie into his glass and a blissful look spread across his face.

"I thought you guys were still on a mission," he whispered.

"We were efficient," Bucky said.

"Pete." His mom spoke with authority. "Are you ok? I know there's a virus going around campus," she said, and automatically put her hand on his forehead. "I checked it out and it's natural, but you never know..."

"I'm ok, mom," he said reassuringly. He broke a cookie in half. "It's about MJ."

"Have you started sleeping with her yet?" she asked cheerfully. "You've been dating for quite awhile now." She frowned. "Oh, Peter, you haven't gotten her pregnant, have you? I get you condoms to cut down on that risk. Have you checked the expiration dates on them?" she asked anxiously.

"No!" he said hastily, and she relaxed a little.

"Somebody's had the talk with you, right?" Bucky asked, frowning.

"May covered the basics," he said, almost whispering. "Steve...filled in the blanks." To his surprise, Bucky chortled. Emma was grinning.

"What did he tell you?" Bucky said, wiping his eyes.

Peter thought he was going to die from mortification. "Recapped the basics," he whispered. "Then he provided...embellishments. There were sketches to illustrate. And he gave me a reading list." Emma guffawed. "There was a lot about technique." Bucky grinned and his laughs mingled with his wife's.

"He was just trying to be helpful, honey," she said through her laughter. "He was hoping to help you shortcut the learning curve a bit." She got out a few more belly laughs. "God bless him, but for such a coordinated man, he was certainly clumsy in bed to begin with."

"...Uh..." Peter said. This was something he really didn't need to know about his idol.

"Doll," Bucky said, and took her hand. She glowed at him. "So what's going on, kid?" he asked.

"Well, we slept together Saturday night," he said, fidgeting with his cookie. "And she's on the pill, so we had two forms of birth control," he assured her quickly, and Emma nodded approvingly. "And I thought it went really well, all things considered, but after a bit she got up and went home," he said, still puzzled. "And she won't really talk to me. Harry's out of town, and I thought we'd spend more time together." His voice was wistful.

"Huh." His mother looked mystified, all teasing aside. "It's difficult to say without talking to her." Peter drooped. Bucky asked questions, a skillful interrogation. There'd been a date; they'd gone out to dinner and an art gallery--she'd expressed interest in the artist. Then they'd gone back to his room, his roommate out of town for the weekend, and he'd asked, and she'd said yes. Then Emma's phone rang; she looked at it with annoyance and rejected the call. It rang again.

"Answer it, doll," Bucky told her, smiling faintly. "You know he's unrelenting."

She got up and clicked it on as she left the room. Pete did not look at the wet spot on the back of her skirt. "Yes, Tony, what do you want? I'm in the middle of something--"

"Ok, kid, the sex was fine?" Bucky asked, quickly. "You made sure she came, right?"

"Yeah," Peter said, nodding. Steve's talk (and the books he'd gotten Peter) had given him a good idea about how to proceed. Then he described the aftermath. This was actually a lot easier than he'd thought it would be. A guy's perspective was good to have.

"Ok, you never want to just roll off and go to sleep," Bucky said quickly. "I get that it was your first time, let her know that, it'll help. Next time, cuddle her. Ask how it was for her, make sure she's satisfied." He paused, and they could hear Emma, irritation in her voice. Bucky smiled and shook his head. "Stark's getting in her bad graces again. Dumbass. And one thing more you might want to consider is that your MJ might be feeling vulnerable now. If it wasn't her first time too, she might be worried what you think of her. Or now that you've had her, you might be done with her." He held up his hands. "Sure she knows you pretty well, but sex amps up both the intimacy and the insecurities. Girls these days seem to have a lot of mixed messages."

"But don't women like sex too?" Peter asked, confused. "Mom does." He forgot to blush.

Bucky smirked. "Kid, you can't judge other women by your mom's standard. Emma's really uninhibited. Part of it's because she doesn't think sex is a moral thing, but she also just really likes it, and if you're lucky, your woman will match your libido too. There's really nothing like having a woman who always wants you." A soft expression illuminated his face. "You haven't been watching too much porn, have you?"

Pete sat upright. "No!" he exclaimed immediately, then wilted a little. "Not much."

"Just remember, porn isn't a model for real-life sex," Bucky advised. They looked at the doorway; the volume of the conversation had risen. "Sure, sometimes you'll just want to go at it like animals, really fucking, but other times you want to be gentle and romantic, where you're so tight together that you can barely move. Check the mood before you go on, because sometimes she's going to want it romantic, and other times, there's nothing as good as showing how passionate you are about her." He gave other tips quickly, including how to approach MJ, thoughts about how to reveal his side gig as a superhero, and wound up just as Emma came through the door again and sat down, slapping the phone on the table.

"He has no off switch," she said in exasperation, but there was a touch of affection in her tone. She looked between them, and a small smile curved her lips. "So do you want me to call MJ?" she asked her son.

"No!" he said. OMG, having his mother call his girlfriend... it didn't bear thinking about.

"Thought I'd offer," she said, holding up her hands. "But if she'd like to talk, I'm available," she instructed him.

"I think we've got it straightened out," Bucky said.

"Ok, that's good," she said briskly. "Finish your milk, and I'll give you a couple cookies to take with you. Come on, honey," she encouraged him. "I love you, but if you've got some guidance, it's time to hit the road. I haven't seen my husband for a few days, and I'm desperate to get laid myself." Peter choked on the milk, but drank it quickly as she wrapped the remaining cookies in a napkin.

She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, urging him toward the door.

"Thanks," he said shyly to Bucky, who smiled and ruffled his hair. He darted in for a quick hug, missing the astonishment on Bucky's face, then retreated again. "Thanks, Dad," he mumbled, and hit the door.