Work Text:
It was a very warm day. You were lounging around in your back yard on an old pool chair that you had found in your garage, trying to beat the heat. A cold lemonade was resting in your hands, the glass sweating almost as much as you were. Even your denim shorts and tank top weren’t helping with the temperature.
Your eyes flicked open aggressively at the sound of someone wolf whistling at you. You stood up, ready to yell, but paused when you saw whom the culprit was.
“Peter?” You walked over to the fence, pushing your sunglasses onto the top of your head as you went. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” You paused before narrowing your eyes at the smirking boy across from you. “Did you get fired again?”
Peter grinned and shook his head. “Nah, my boss let me have the day off because it’s so hot and no one’s coming in to the store.” You were still a little suspicious, but you nodded, letting him off the hook. He looked over your shoulder to your chair and large umbrella, raising an eyebrow. “Have you been sitting out here all day?”
“Yeah. It’s too hot to be inside, and at least out here I have the chance of getting some breeze,” you shrugged.
“Do you want to come over for a swim?” He asked, and your eyes widened considerably.
“Oh my God, I forgot that you had a pool! Give me a minute to get my stuff and I’ll meet you out front.” You raced inside, leaving him to chuckle at your dramatic behavior.
You had met Peter when you started high school. He had run into you – literally – and you had fallen over, badly spraining your ankle. He took you out for ice cream to apologize; and the two of you had been best friends since. So, by now, you had known each other for a few years, which had allowed you to become very close, but also meant that you had slowly fallen for him. He was a bit of an outcast, and a bit strange, with his questionable music taste, crazy hair and quirky personality, yet you had grown to love him as more than a friend. He was incredibly kind, very cheeky, and always knew how to cheer you up, but you kept your feelings to yourself; you didn’t want to endanger the bond the two of you shared, and, anyway, you were happy to just be his friend (though you would be ecstatic if you were a more than that).
You grabbed your swimsuit and a towel, shoving them into a bag, before running out to the front of your house. As an afterthought, you grabbed your set of keys from the kitchen counter and locked the front door behind you, remembering that you were the only one home at the moment.
Peter was waiting on the pathway for you, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. How he was surviving the heat, you had no idea. “All good?”
“Yep, lets roll,” you grinned at him and he smiled back. You both started walking up the pathway; thankfully, Peter only lived a few blocks away.
You were both chatted aimlessly for a while, happy to be in each other’s company. You talked about how you had been spending the last few days: reading, lounging around, and trying not to move so as to stay as cool as possible. He talked about how boring his current job was, and how glad he was that school was over for the summer.
“So, I haven’t seen you for a few days, Maximoff. What’s new? How’s your sister?” You asked, bumping him with your shoulder.
“Oh, you know. She’s been having play dates and I’ve been babysitting her, ‘cause mum’s at work. She’s as annoying as usual,” he bumped you back, and you laughed.
“Oh, shut up. Lorna’s adorable,” you replied.
“Yeah, you only think that because you don’t have to live with her,” he groaned overdramatically, making you laugh again.
“You’re such a drama queen, Peter.” You were nearly to his house. “So I see you’re still going with the dyed hair, huh?” You pointed to his silver locks, and he sighed deeply.
“For the last time, (Y/N), it’s natural! I have never dyed my hair and I never will!” He exclaimed. You had reached his house, and he walked up the steps to hold the door open for you. “I don’t know why you think that I dye it!”
“Yeah, sure, Peter, I totally believe you,” you chuckled, walking inside. He grabbed your shoulders from behind you and pretended to shake you with fake anger, making your giggles louder. At the sound of the two of you entering, Peter’s little sister, Lorna, ran out into the hallway to meet you.
“(Y/N)!” She called, before running up to you. You dropped you bag on the floor and held your arms out to catch her.
“Lorna!” You copied her tone, picking her up and swinging her around so that you faced Peter. “Where’s your mum?” You asked her, at which she brightened considerably, and Peter paled.
“She’s not home! Peter was supposed to be lookin’ after me, but he left me home alone to get you. I got to be home alone ‘cause I’m a big girl!” She smiled, and started wiggling so that you would put her down.
“Hmm, is that right?” You turned to Peter and placed your hands on your hips. “Peter Maximoff. Did you leave your little sister at home by herself?” You raised an eyebrow at him, and he gulped visibly.
“It was only for a few minutes! I was just going to see you!” He raised his hands in a mock surrender, his eyes wide and a little scared. You stared at him for a moment, before narrowing your eyes and jabbing his chest with your finger.
“You better watch yourself, buddy, or I’ll tell your mum,” you turned around and picked up your bag, walking away.
“No!” He dragged out the syllable and caught up to you surprisingly quick, flinging his arms around your neck and stopping you from walking any further. “If you tell her, you don’t get to go swimming in our pool.”
“Ugh, okay, then, I won’t tell her.” He laughed and let go of you.
“You are dangerously easy to persuade. Now go get changed in my room.”
You nodded, and started the familiar trek down to his room, which was covered with posters of bands and movies, with clothes strewn haphazardly all over the floor and some of the furniture (there was also a lot of boxes of food and other things, though whenever you asked him about that he always changed the subject). His room was a mess, but it was so obviously him. You took a moment to admire it, before changing quickly and leaving Peter’s room to sit on a couch in the living room upstairs. Lorna came and plopped down beside you, smiling and humming a tuneless song.
“Hey Lorna. Where’s Peter?”
“He’s in the kitchen making me a sandwich,” she stated. “Can I tell you a secret?” She whispered conspiratorially.
“Sure thing, kiddo,” you laughed, leaning closer when she signaled at you with her pointer finger.
“You gotta promise not to tell anyone that I told you this, okay? Pinkie promise,” she held out her pinkie, and you nodded solemnly, linking your finger with hers. “Okay. Listen carefully.”
“Yes, ma’am,” you nodded again, trying not to smile. Peter’s sister really was adorable.
“Peter’s name isn’t really Peter,” she whispered matter-of-factly. “It’s Pietro.”
At this, your eyes widened. Pietro? Really? “What?” You said at a normal volume, making Lorna slap your knee. “Sorry. Are you being serious, Lorna?”
She leaned back, seemingly very insulted that you would think otherwise. “Yes, I am! I’m a big girl,” she reminded you. “His name is really Pietro. He doesn’t like anyone to call him that, though, because he doesn’t like it.”
Well, this was certainly news. You had known Peter for years but he never thought to tell you that his name was really Pietro. Was he really that embarrassed by it?
Suddenly, Peter called out from the kitchen to tell Lorna that her sandwich was done. She gasped and leaned back towards you.
“I also wanted to tell you that he like-likes you and wants to kiss you! Okay, bye!” She jumped off the couch and ran to her bedroom. It occurred to you that getting Peter to make her a sandwich might have been a ruse to get you alone so she could talk to you.
You leaned back, your thoughts swirling. Peter liked you? He liked you back? Lorna may have been wrong, but she did seem quite sure of herself. You were finding out all sorts of things about Peter. What next? Does he somehow have superpowers, or something? You shook your head.
Peter chose this moment to enter the living room, a plate with a sandwich in one hand. “Lor– Where’s Lorna gone?” He asked, exasperated. You stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. Act casual, or ask what Lorna had meant? Acting casual would probably be the best idea.
“Your name is Pietro?” Apparently, though, your mouth had other ideas. “It’s Pietro? And you never told me?” Peter had frozen at your words, almost dropping his plate.
“Uh, yes. I mean, no, my name’s Peter, not Pietro. Why would you think that?” He laughed nervously, running his free hand through his silver hair. “Okay, yes. My name is Pietro. And I didn’t tell you because it just never came up.” He placed the plate on the coffee table before flopping down on the couch next to you.
“Do you not like your name?” You asked him. He closed his eyes and sighed, and you stared at him, admiring the way his hair fell in his eyes. He stayed silent. “Because I happen to think that it’s a pretty cool name, if I’m honest.” This got a breath of a chuckle, and you nodded to yourself, now reassured that the topic wasn’t making him permanently sad.
“It’s just… people have always found it hard to pronounce, and it’s so different, and I kind of grew to dislike it… And I guess just like Peter better. So I tell people that my name is Peter.”
“Well, I think it’s cool, and I don’t think you should be ashamed or embarrassed of it at all, but if you want me to call you Peter, then sure, I’ll call you Peter,” you smiled warmly at him, and after a moment’s hesitation he returned it. “But, just out of curiosity, how much do you hate it? Because if I’m really angry at you, or something, can I say your full name, or no?” You joked, hoping to lighten the situation, and thankfully, he laughed.
“Sure, go ahead. I may as well tell you now that my middle name is Django,” he shrugged.
“Really? No way! Pietro Django Maximoff.” You sounded out his full, actual name, wondering how much it suited him. “This is incredible,” you sighed happily, leaning back. You both lapsed into a comfortable silence. However, there was something else that you needed to talk about.
“Um, I’m going to go get changed and then we can finally go for a swim okay?” Peter got up to walk away, but you grabbed his arm. You took a deep, bracing yourself for what you were about to say.
“Wait. Ah, your sister also said that, um, you liked me?” Peter, once again, was stunned silent. You stood up to face him.
“Uh, of course I like you, you’re my best friend,” he replied nervously, wringing his hands.
“No, she said you liked me as in you wanted to kiss me,” you elaborated, stepping a bit closer. He glanced down at your lips for a quick second, before looking back up to your eyes. He opened his mouth and closed it several times, trying to say something but having no words come out. “Which is good, because I wanna kiss you, too.” You reached up and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, before leaning back and grinning shyly. “I’ve wanted to for a while, actually.”
His eyes widened and he blushed, which you thought was absolutely adorable. He then seemed to realize what had happened, and leaned down to kiss you on the mouth. It was very sweet and not really what you had expected from Peter, who tended to shamelessly flirt with you, but you enjoyed it much more than you ever thought you would.
When he pulled away, he was still blushing, and you found that your cheeks were also heating up. “So, um, I’m guessing you like me too, right?”
“No, I just kissed you because we’re such close friends,” you rolled your eyes. “Duh, of course I like you. It took you long enough to find out.”
“Jeez, (Y/N), no need to be so rude. Anyway, do you wanna be my girlfriend?” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you started to walk away from the living room. Peter had, thankfully, seemed to regain his confidence around you.
You huffed a short laugh at his very outright approach to asking you out. “It would be my honour. But first, is there anything else that you’re hiding about yourself that I should know about?” You asked, and he pulled away to smirk mischievously at you.
“Well, now that you ask…” He picked you up, bridal style, and suddenly, inhumanely quickly, you were out of the house and at the edge of the pool. Your mind swirled and your stomach heaved.
“Oh my God! What the hell? Peter! What the heck was that?” You exclaimed shrilly, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. He started laughing. “Holy crap! You have freakin’ super powers! You have super speed!”
“Uh, yes, I do. You’re okay with that, right?”
“Um, yeah, I’ll, uh, have to think about it. Y’know, later, when I can be sure that I’m not hallucinating because of the heat. It’s quite a lot to take in. Also, I will eventually yell at you for not telling me you had freaking super powers.” You shook your head, as if to clear your vision. “But for now, can you please put me down?”
“As you wish,” he laughed, and too late you realised what he was going to do.
You landed in the water, which was freezing, with a large splash. You gasped, trying to get upright. “Pietro Django Maximoff.” He laughed. “I’m going to kill you.” You wiped the water from your eyes, and growled when he continued to chuckle. “Help me out, you asshole.” You reached an arm out, and he grabbed it, ready to pull you out of the water. But once your hands were secured with his, you pulled with all of your body weight and he followed you into the pool, letting out a high-pitched scream that made you wish you were taping the scene.
“Damn, (Y/N), this was my favourite pair of jeans,” he looked down to his bottom half, which was totally submerged and saturated. “But touché.”
You laughed and swam over to him, linking your arms around his neck. His hands came to rest on your waist. You brushed his wet hair away from his face.
“You look super hot in this swimsuit, by the way,” he stated appreciatively. You laughed, splashing him. The two of you laughed and talked and swam the rest of the day away, together. And though the water definitely helped you cool down, a warm, pleasant feeling remained with you, deep inside.