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Peter never expected his first time to happen like this. Not that he had any expectations about the first time he would get to have sex, but he definitely didn't expect this.
Though if he's perfectly honest with himself, he did entertain the idea once or twice… Alright, maybe he did happen to think about it more than that, but he never thought that his teenage fantasy would come true.
Mr. Stark– Tony. He definitely gets to call him Tony now. Tony is lying next to him on the queen-sized bed, utterly relaxed and seemingly content to just bask in the post-coital bliss.
Peter had never before seen him so at ease, not even when the man was engrossed in one of his lab binges, which is saying something about Tony’s general state.
He is more than happy to be the reason Tony is so relaxed right now. He mentally pats himself on the back and congratulates himself on a job well done.
He sure hopes there will be a repeat of today’s exploits. Now he will have something aside from lab visits to look forward to when visiting the Avengers Tower.
The funeral is a somber affair. Karen clutches Foggy's hand in a death grip and sniffles quietly. Foggy cannot find it in himself to console her. He doesn’t know how he’s keeping it together right now, to be honest.
Usually, he is not one to repress or hide his feelings, but right now all he feels is an all-encompassing numbness. Matt has been a constant in his life since the first day of undergrad; he doesn’t know how to function without him by his side any more. They are two sides of the same coin, partners in crime and justice– were. They were. Everything that has to do with Matt is past tense now.
Suddenly it hits him that there won’t be a “Nelson & Murdock” anymore. Because Mathew Michael Murdock is dead.
His best friend is gone. Dead.
The word keeps ringing in his head. He cannot make sense of what the priest is saying, but he knows it will be his turn soon to pronounce a speech.
He was never really good at those. Matt was the more eloquent from the two of them and now he’s dead.
Bucky never thought the day would come when he would tie the knot, that with how the world was constantly going to shit. There simply didn’t seem to be enough time to even think about the American Dream—a pretty wife, 2.5 kids and a house with a backyard surrounded by a white fence—when life was more about surviving than actually living it.
But here he is. About to become a kept man.
The thought sends butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He has finally come to accept—with extensive help from his psychiatrist and psychotherapist—that he deserves to experience happiness.
Especially—or maybe in spite of—all he’s been through.
Sometimes he feels like he is living a dream, while in reality he is still trapped in a Hydra base, being tortured and brainwashed, completely at Zola’s mercy.
He chases the thought away.
He looks into the mirror one last time, adjusts his bowtie and makes his way out of the room—towards a brighter future where he is wanted and loved simply for being himself.