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You sit on the steps of the new Avenger’s facilities, wringing yours hands together.
You rub the left side of your face, letting your fingers trace over the bumps and ridges marring the skin there. With a sigh, you let your hand drop.
There’s an entire array of press inside, all with cameras, all ready to welcome the newest Avengers to the spotlight. Luckily, Tony agreed to let you simply come out in your beast form. No need to let them see your real face, he had said, not if you don’t want them to see it. He had said it off-handedly, but it was one of the many kind things Stark had said and done for you.
You didn’t want them to see your face. You didn’t want the world to judge your face anymore than it already had.
But you would have to show your face to the other recruit. Spider-Man. After all, teammates can’t work together if they don’t know each other.
Happy’s car pulls up, wheel crunching the gravel. You look up from your feet and give the car a half-hearted wave. Happy gets out of the car and frowns. “What’s with the face, kid?”
You scowl. “I’m sick of waiting for your late-ass,” you gruffly respond. “Where’s the fresh meat?”
A small smirk tugs at Happy’s lips. The back car door opens and a kid, no older than sixteen, hops out of the car, jaw hanging open, eyes wide—positively breath-taken by the state-of-the-art facility. It makes you smile, his open wonder. Clearly this kid wears his heart on his sleeve and his emotions all over his face.
And then his eyes fall on you.
If possible, his jaw drops lower.
Shame prickles in your chest. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you quip, standing and brushing your jeans off.
Horror crosses his face. “Oh, no—I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, i-i-it’s just that you’re so—” Then he cuts himself off and ducks his head, face red as a stop sign.
“So what?” You prompt, still scowling. “Get it out now so it doesn’t slip out later.”
He rubs his arm and glances up at you, smiling shyly and giving a nervous chuckle. “Pretty,” he finishes, biting his lip.
Oh.
A faint heat rises to your cheeks. “Th-thanks,” you stammer.
“Cool it, kids. She’s twenty one and out of your league,” Happy remarks. “(Y/N), this is Peter Parker, better known as Spider-Man. Pete, this is (Y/N) (L/N), otherwise known as The Beast.”
“The Beast!? Oh, wow—I had no idea—”
“We’re going in,” Happy flatly states, cutting the poor kid off. He smiles sheepishly and sneaks another admiring glance at you. “(Y/N), you better suit up. Kid, Tony’s got something special for you.”
Together, the three of you head in. You fall a step behind Happy to match Peter’s stride. Giving him a smile, you stick out your hand. “Nice to meet you, Spidey.”
He gives you a shy smile. “Nice to meet you too, Beast.”