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Peter runs down the street, face red and hands full of groceries. He barely dodges people and cars and he’s thinking too fast to process his own thoughts. But he doesn’t have the time to think, he’s already thirty minutes late to dinner with Frank and Karen.
He stops when he reaches the apartment building before catching his breath and walking in. He greets the doorman before pressing the up button on the elevator. He impatiently waits for the elevator before quickly getting on it and pressing the floor.
He keeps clicking the “close doors” button until the doors close. He softly taps his foot on the floor, waiting for the elevator to reach the 10th floor. Once the elevator rings, he steps out before jogging down the hallway to get to Karen’s apartment.
He takes a moment to catch his breath before knocking on Karen’s door, preparing his best smile.
It’s Frank who opens the door, with an ever so familiar look, “You’re late, kid.”
“I know, I know but I swear Frank it really wasn’t my fault this time,” Peter says, stepping inside the apartment.
Frank sighs, “Yeah, yeah I know. What was it this time?”
“You’re going to laugh at me when I tell you,” Peter mumbles, stepping into the kitchen to put down the bags on the counter.
Frank smirks before crossing his arms, “Let me be the judge of that.”
“It was a cat,” Peter says after a couple of moments.
“I knew it,” Frank says, stepping forward and patting Peter on the shoulder before moving to look at the bags of the groceries. “Come on, today we are going to learn the basics. Making a salad, salman and boiling some rice, okay? Doesn’t sound too complicated, right?”
Peter nods before taking off his jacket and placing it on the couch. He runs a hand through his hair before taking a deep breath.
“Are you mentally preparing yourself?” Frank asks, watching from the kitchen. “You’re learning how to bake salmon, kid, not go fight in a war.”
“I’ve fought in a war and I promise you this is making me a lot more nervous,” Peter replies before walking back into the kitchen.
“War?” Frank replies, in confusion.
“Yeah, Spider-Man fought with the Avengers when Thanos came down to earth both times. Well actually, the first time I went to space to fight Thanos and then the second time he was when the Avengers fixed everything with the blip and all that stuff, I was on Earth. Actually, you know, I was upstate when that happened,” Peter explains. He turns on the sink, washing his hands as he speaks. “Well actually, I don’t if that’s really considered a war because a war is long and drawn out, those were just battles. I guess it might be a war for those who didn’t blip but I did so it all felt like a really long day to me.”
“I didn’t know you were there when they fought Thanos,” Frank mumbles, taking in all the information that Peter spewed out in less than a minute.
“Yeah, it’s because I was like working under Mr. Stark or something like that back then. I don’t know, everything pre-blip just seems so fuzzy now, like it feels like a different world,” Peter says.
“Because it was,” Frank sighs. “You’re a brave little kid, man. I was running away from battles when I was 16 and you were running right into it.”
Peter shrugs before offering Frank a soft smile as he dries his hands, “It’s nothing like what you’ve done for the country, though.”
Frank chuckles, “Please, kid, I think I did more harm for the country than I did good with my job in the military.”
“What do you mean?”
“The special forces I was in were funded by smuggling heroin from Afghanistan to America. In the bodies of dead soldiers nonetheless,” Frank replies. “They killed my family and tried to kill me because they thought I knew something about it.”
Peter stays silent for a moment before pulling Frank into a hug, “I’m so sorry, Frank. That’s not fair.”
Frank pats Peter’s back, “Don’t worry, kid. I’ve recovered, just sharing war stories.”
Peter nods before pulling away from the hug, “I’m so glad that I’m not involved with the government anymore. They do not seem like good people.”
“They really aren’t, kid, stay away,” Frank mumbles. “Okay, now should we get started with preparing our ingredients?”
Peter nods, “Yes, what would you like for me to do first?”
“Let’s start by washing up all our stuff for the chopped salad, okay?” Frank says, handing Peter the lettuce, cherry tomatoes, and cucumbers. “Wash those and I’ll chop up the onions, olives and the pepperoncini.”
“Okay,” Peter says before turning on the sink and washing the vegetables. “How’s Karen been doing?”
“Yeah, she’s doing good, really busy at work,” Frank replies. “She’s gonna try and get out of work in time to make it home for dinner today.”
“Okay, now I’m ten times more nervous than before,” Peter mumbles.
“Why?”
“Because Karen is coming home early to eat this dinner and if we accidentally screw it up, it’ll be on me.”
“Nah, we won’t. I’m watching you, okay?”
“Like a babysitter?”
Frank rolls his eyes in response.
Peter places the washed vegetables in front of Frank on the cutting board, “Now what, chef?”
“Now, cut them,” Frank says, handing Peter the knife and moving back.
Peter cautiously accepts the knife before moving forward in front of the cutting board, “Just cut them?”
Frank thinks for a moment before taking the knife from Peter, “Okay, watch me do it this time and then next week you can use the knife.”
“Do you not trust me with a knife?” Peter mumbles, biting back a smile.
“Kid, I don’t trust you with a butter knife.”
Peter chuckles, “I know how to fight with a knife.”
“Okay, now you’re just lying.”
“Okay, I know how to fight.”
Frank stops chopping the cucumbers before giving Peter an amused look.
“Fine, I give up,” Peter sighs.
“Just messin’ with ya’ kid, I know you can fight,” Frank says, offering Peter a soft smile.
Frank finishes chopping all the vegetables before grabbing a salad bowl and placing them in. He shows Peter the salad dressing, “We’ll put this on when we’re done with everything else, otherwise the salad will get soggy.”
“Okay,” Peter nods.
Frank places the salad bowl in the fridge before turning to Peter, “Okay, now let’s get started on the rice.”
“Yessir.”
“There’s not much that goes into the rice except for boiling it,” Frank admits. “I mean of course, there are different fancy sorts of rice but let’s just focus on the basic stuff today.”
“Got it.”
“The ratio for the water is going to be 2 cups of water for every 1 cup of rice, got it?” Frank explains, walking over to the sink. “Now, that ain’t gonna be hard for you to remember, right? You’re good at math.”
“I would hope so,” Peter mumbles.
“Don’t doubt yourself, kid.”
Frank measures the rice before measuring the cups of water and placing them in the pot. He shows Peter how to thoroughly wash the rice before placing the pot on the stove.
“Now we’re just going to boil this for about fifteen minutes and then check in on our rice,” Frank says before turning to Peter. “Okay, kid, now the hard part. The salmon.”
Peter dramatically sighs, “I’m scared, Chef.”
“Don’t be, we’re going to get through this together,” Frank replies, trying to match Peter’s energy. He opens the refrigerator before pulling out washed salmon filets, “I’ve already washed the salmon but all you’re going to do to wash it is run it under cold water, okay?”
Peter nods, “Got it.”
“For this recipe we’re going to need butter, herbs, lemon and garlic. Can you take that out of the fridge for me? The butters sitting out on the kitchen counter, though.”
Peter nods again before making his way to the refrigerator and collecting the items Frank asked for before bringing them back to him.
“Here you go,” Peter mumbles, placing the ingredients in front of Frank.
“Okay, we’re just going to make a simple herb butter,” Frank says before showing Peter how to make the butter.
He carefully explains how to measure out how much butter, herbs, garlic and lemon juice the herb butter needs before letting the younger boy mix the butter. Frank grabs a spoon before giving PEter the chance to spread the butter on the salmon before placing it in the oven.
“Hey, that wasn’t too bad, right?” Frank asks Peter, offering the younger boy a soft smile. “Especially with the right teacher.”
“I mean, I guess,” Peter jokes, rolling his eyes.
Frank playfully pulls Peter into a headlock, “Take that back.”
“Never,” Peter says, pretending to choke.
“Take it back, kid,” Frank says.
Peter dramatically faints to the ground before speaking, “I… take… it… back.”
He pretends to die and Frank rolls his eyes before chuckling and offering Peter a hand to get up.
“Come on, kid let’s watch reruns of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?” Frank says, leading Peter to the kitchen.
“What about our food?” Peter asks, mindlessly following Frank into the living room.
“I’ve got my eye on the clock.”
They end up burning their rice.
“You said you had your eye on the clock!” Peter exclaims, coughing because of the smoke.
“I thought I did!” Frank yells, defending himself. He covers his mouth with his forearm before turning off the fire detector. “The show just got too damn good.”
“What are we gonna do now?” Peter asks, quickly grabbing the pot and placing it under water. “How are we going to face Karen?”
“The question is how are you going to face Karen?” Frank asks, raising an eyebrow. “She had hopes for you, kid.”
“Do not make this about me! You said you were going to babysit me,” Peter replies, rolling his eyes.
“Okay, let’s not turn on each other,” Frank says, placing a hand on his hip, thinking. He speaks again, “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to run down to the local Chinese restaurant and ask them for just plain white rice, okay? I’m going to open every window in this apartment and try and air out the smoke.”
“What about the evidence?” Peter asks, pointing to the burnt pan.
Frank grabs the pan out the sink before handing it to Peter, “Okay, go throw this out on your way downstairs.”
Peter nods, “Got it.”
He turns around to walk out of the apartment but Frank quickly stops him.
“Oh and here’s 30 bucks for the rice,” Frank says, handing him money.
Peter tries handing Frank the money back, “Frank, I have 30 bucks.”
Frank gives him an unamused look, “Do you?”
Peter sheepishly smiles before pocketing the money, “Okay, you’re right.”
“As always,” Frank mumbles underneath his breath, shaking his head.
Peter rolls his eyes before turning around to leave again.
“So, how was this little cooking adventure?” Karen asks, sitting at the dining table. “Everything looks really good. Amazing job, Peter.”
“Thank you but it was mostly Frank,” Peter admits, offering Karen a soft smile. “He’s the boss, of course.”
Frank chuckles before shooting Peter a look that reads “don’t mess this up.”
“No no, Peter, this was all you, son,” Frank says before taking a sip of his beer.
“Oh please, you are just so humble, Frank,” Peter says, chuckling along with Frank.
“Just giving credit where credit is due,” Frank says through his teeth.
“And it is all you who deserves it,” Peter replies, tilting his head slightly.
Frank opens his mouth to reply to Peter but Karen cuts him off.
“You guys burnt down the rice, didn’t you?” Karen asks before sighing.
“How’d you know?” Peter asks, shocked.
“I saw the takeout boxes in the trash,” Karen replies before opening the wine bottle.
Frank lightly smacks Peter in the back of his head, “I told you to hide the evidence, kid.”
“I did!” Peter replies, rubbing the spot where Frank hit him.
“You would make a horrible criminal,” Frank admits before sighing. “I don’t know if I should be proud or ashamed.”
“Me either,” Karen admits, taking a sip of her wine. “You still did good, you guys. Be proud of yourselves.”
“Thank you,” Frank and Peter say at the same time.
Peter looks at Frank, “I thought I did most of the work, Frank.”
“You said it yourself, kid, it was all me,” Frank replies with a smirk.
“Watch out the next time I cook for you, Frank,” Peter threatens.
“What are you going to do? Poison me?”
“Of course not,” Peter replies, with a smile.
Frank looks at Karen, “Okay, now this kid is really scaring me.”
Karen shrugs, “He’s your kid.”