Chapter Text
THE TALK: Part 2
She only sees the view for one split second before she closes Peter’s bedroom door, but it’s more than enough for her to notice:
- Peter weirdly toned body,
- MJ’s nails sinking deep into his shoulder,
- Peter’s flushed face, and
- His penguin boxers, halfway down his legs, as well as what it should be hiding.
“Nopenopenopenope,” she mutters, pressing her forehead against the frame. From the other side, Peter’s squeaking and wailing and MJ’s uttering every curse word she can manage—including Russian ones, which must be Yelena’s doing. She catches the words “turned on” and jumps back, running away.
Mrs Parker’s out of town for a work thing, and so, despite Peter being seventeen already, she requests Kate to stay over for the night to keep things safe. It’s understandable. Peter’s superhero identity operates on a much higher level than hers. Meaning: high-level bad guys could be gunning at him every time. Plus, she doesn’t mind staying over. She loves hanging out with Peter. And having the house to themselves means they could have fun. They were in the middle of a Star Wars marathon when Peter said he wanted to go to the bathroom. After a minute, MJ said she needed to go as well.
Yelena had given Kate a look when it happened. Kate was too invested in the movie to catch on to what it meant.
“So, do you regret barging in on them to make sure they’re alright?” Yelena is asking now, sprawled out on the floor and leaning against the sofa as Kate paces in the living room.
“First of all, I didn’t barge in —”
“No, you just opened the door to a teenage boy’s room without knocking.”
“I didn’t know they were in there!”
“Then why’d you come in?”
“I thought something happened!” says Kate, stopping. She runs her hands through her hair. “I don’t know, like, they were kidnapped or hurt or—or…” Her hand lowers to the back of her neck. She closes her eyes to calm down, but her mind flashes back to how hard MJ’s nails were pressing against Peter’s skin. She winces and lowers her hands. “Fuck…”
“After you caught them, that won’t be happening, I think.”
Kate glares at the smirking Yelena. “Not helping.”
Yelena’s smirk widens. “Then again, they are still in the room. And Michelle does seem to be the type to like—”
“Yelena.”
Yelena chuckles. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop.”
She guides Kate to sit down on the sofa, tracing circles on Kate’s palm as they hold hands. Kate’s shoulders lower, some of her tension melting. Some, not all. “What am I gonna do?”
“Pretend it never happened?”
“I’m not good at pretending…” She sighs, then slumps and hides her face in Yelena’s chest. Yelena cups the back of her head, and starts stroking her hair. “What am I gonna do ?” she asks again.
The hair-stroking motion stops, then resumes at a slower pace. “Well, one of my connections is developing a memory-wiping device. Similar to that movie, what’s it called—the Black-Suited Men?”
“Men in Black,” says Kate. She lets herself enjoy Yelena’s stroking, before pulling away, sitting straighter on the sofa. “And… no, no. Thanks for the offer, but uh… as much as I’d really, really like that, I just…” She looks down. “I don’t know. I feel like I shouldn’t.”
Yelena places a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to look up. Yelena’s face is soft, kind, and makes Kate want to sink into her again. “Now that we’ve established what you shouldn’t do, should we start narrowing down potential lists on what you should do instead?”
Kate hesitates. It’s pretty obvious what she should do. Even if doing it is the last thing she wants to do. “I—”
The clumsy sound of Peter’s footsteps ring out. Then, from the hall, Peter pokes his head in with a smile too wide to be genuine. “Hey, girls!”
Kate and Yelena look at each other.
He makes his way into the living room, fully clothed (thank god), walking with a languid pace, stopping in front of them.
“Spiderboy,” says Yelena. “Mind telling us where Michelle is?”
“Oh, yeah, she left.”
“How?” Kate asks.
“Through the window.” At her flabbergasted expression, he adds, “I helped.” Then, he flops down on the sofa next to them. He gestures to the TV. “Hit play, Kate!”
Yelena raises an eyebrow at Kate. I’m following your lead , the gesture means.
Kate clears her throat. “So, uh, Peter, what happened back there—”
“What do you mean what happened? Nothing happened! Totally nothing, no siree. Especially nothing worth talking about or anything! Also can we please watch the movie now?”
“Peter—”
“Because it’s a really, really great movie! I mean, I’ve watched it at least a hundred times and I’m still not tired of it! The cinematography, the directional directions, the writing, the—the uh, the other stuff, like uh—cinematography! Wait, did I say that already? Anyway, yeah, the cinematography, it’s so very cinematic, and—”
“Spiderboy, shut up, we know you were trying to fuck Michelle.”
A heavy silence settles in the room.
Kate gives Yelena a thankful look, and Yelena mouths, “No problem.”
She faces Peter, separating her hands so she won’t fidget. “So, uh… Peter, I, uh… feel like we should discuss about you—about what almost happened…”
“Or, you know, we can just not?” mumbles Peter.
“I don’t want to talk about this either, Peter, but I have to.” Kate takes a deep breath. “Do you know how to have sex?”
“What?” Yelena asks, loudly.
“What?!” Peter asks, even more loudly.
Kate’s face is burning. For Mrs Parker , she tells herself repeatedly, willing herself to look into Peter’s horrified eyes. She speaks slowly, emphasising each word: “Do you know how to have sex?”
“I—I—” Peter gives Yelena a WTF? look “—yes?”
Kate gives Yelena a different look—one that says, I’m going to need all the support I can get. She takes a deep breath, looks back at Peter. “Tell me, then.”
Peter’s jaw drops. “What?!”
“Oh, this is good,” says Yelena, chuckling.
Kate ignores her. “Tell me.”
Peter gives Yelena another WTF? look, which Yelena returns with a smirk that can mean a hundred things. Clearing his throat, he says, “Well, you know, you just… do it.”
Kate’s eye twitches. It’s not too late to end this. She can accept his vague answer then take Yelena up in her offer to wipe some memory. Instead, she asks, “How?”
Yelena snickers. “Yes, Spiderboy, give us a demonstration.”
“Yelena!” Kate glares at her.
Yelena shrugs, her face the perfect picture of innocence. “What? How else are we supposed to know if he can do it?”
“Do I have to?” asks Peter in a small voice.
“No!” yells Kate, gesturing. “No, no, no, no, no!”
“Yes, she’s right,” says Yelena, nodding. “You don’t have to actually do it. You just need to demonstrate.”
“Right.” Kate starts to relax. Finally…
It’s subtle, but Yelena’s eyes sparkle. “And by demonstrate, I mean put on a sock puppet show!”
“Yelena, I swear to—” She catches the expression on Peter’s face, and how pale it’s become. “She’s kidding,” she says, smiling at him, before glaring at Yelena. “You’re kidding.”
“Mostly,” replies Yelena.
Kate groans, and pinches the bridge of her nose.
“You know,” says Peter, squirming with his cheeks a rosy red color, “I’m basically an adult already, and I’m good with computers, so I’ve… you know, I’ve watched some… stuff.”
“Peter!” says Kate.
“What kind?” says Yelena.
“Yelena!” says Kate.
Peter blinks, then blinks again. His blush deepens and spreads across his face. “Oh, you know, the—the uh… the normal kind.”
Kate, who’s about to close her ears because she does not want to listen to any of this, stills. She tries to catch Yelena’s eyes, but Yelena doesn’t seem bothered with the answer. “The normal kind?” Yelena asks.
“You know,” says Peter, his voice rising an octave, “where you… uh…” He makes vague gestures, tries to make those vague gestures clearer, catches Kate’s eyes, then deflates. “You—you know…” he says, slumping on the sofa.
Kate frowns. “Is… that what you were trying to do?”
“Mm-hmm.”
She bites her lip. “Listen, Peter, are you really, really sure you know—”
“Kate, please! Can we just stop this?!” he yells, his spine rigid and straight. “God, it’s embarrassing! And right in front of your girlfriend too!”
Heavy silence settles.
Peter’s a panting, red-faced frazzled mess, and Kate’s eyes settle on the floor. God, what was she thinking, asking those questions? Of course Peter would be uncomfortable; they’ve known each other for for ever !
“You know, Peter,” says Yelena, her tone making Kate look up, “no one’s ever tried to give me this sort of talk before.” Her face is grim, her lips pursed together. She looks less like the teasing fun-loving girl she acts to be (and is) and more like the battle-hardened, international assassin who’s gone through more than anyone should. “No one’s ever taken the time to embarrass me this badly before. And embarrass themselves in the process.” A small pause. “Natasha would’ve, but, well…”
Kate places her hand on top of Yelena’s.
Yelena shoots Kate a thankful look, before she smiles bitterly at Peter. “You’re luckier than you think.” Peter looks away, his expression unreadable. Yelena gets up from the sofa, then places a gentle hand on Kate’s shoulder. “Trust yourself, Kate Bishop.”
And with that, she leaves the apartment, her footsteps fading out before the door clicks open then shut.
Peter squirms again, scratching his jaw. “Kate?” he asks, still not looking at her.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to—”
“No, she was right.” He takes a deep breath, and meets her eyes. “I was being a real jerk.”
Kate tries to smile. “I mean, I did just bring up the, uh, you-know-what topic,” she says. “But you are an adult now. You’ve probably already got the basics, at least.”
Silence again, with no hint of discomfort, this time.
Then, in a small voice: “Kate?”
“Yeah?”
“What if I don’t want to, you know, do it to MJ?”
“What do you mean?” asks Kate. His face is vulnerable—his eyes wide, his shoulders hunched up. His meaning dawns on her. “Oh. Oh . Oh, Peter, that’s completely alright! Your feelings are still completely valid. Only, well, you know, you need to talk it over with MJ, see if she’s comfortable with dating an asexual—”
“Asexual?”
“—which, I mean, knowing her, she must be, she adores you, Peter, and even if she doesn’t, I’m sure there are plenty of ways she can—”
“What are you talking about?”
Kate pauses. “You being asexual?” His eyebrows rise, as if the thought never occurred to him. “That… is what you’re talking about, right?”
He looks away, rubbing his neck, then his shoulder, then his neck again. “Actually, what I meant was that… I don’t want to do it to MJ; I want her to do it to me instead.”
And, well, Kate doesn’t know what to do; she just lets her body guide her. And apparently, what her body wants is to get the hell out of this conversation, because then, she’s outside the apartment, staring at Yelena’s relaxed form against the wall, her arms crossed.
“See? Now that wasn’t so—” Yelena sees Kate’s face, and uncrosses her arms. “What happened?”
Kate says nothing. She grabs Yelena’s sleeve, tugs her inside, then slams the door closed, trapping Yelena with Peter.
Screw what Mrs Parker wants; she can not be having that kind of a conversation with Peter.
Huffing, she rests her forehead against the wall besides the door. You tried , she tells herself, that’s all that matters. Then, faintly, she can hear Yelena’s voice: “Really, I should be talking with Michelle about this, but I guess you can tell her yourself once you see her again, because you see, Parker, the trick isn’t about the size, it’s about the material—”
“Right?!” says Peter. “That’s what I’ve been saying!”
Kate power walks the shit out of the building, muttering, “Nopenopenope nope .”