Chapter Text
Peter Parker did not panic.
Peter Parker never panicked.
He was not panicking.
He was simply… experiencing a heightened state of awareness. And mild nausea. And maybe some light sweating. And okay, yeah, he was absolutely panicking.
“Kid, you’ve been staring at that menu for literally twenty minutes."
Peter snapped his head up so fast he nearly headbutted the backing of the comfy booth they were seated at. “What? No! I mean—I'm deciding. There are a lot of choices.”
Across from him, Steve Rogers gave him a patient, almost painfully earnest smile. “It’s a sandwich place, Peter.”
“There are many sandwich... philosophies,” Peter argued weakly, looking like he'd been caught in the middle of a bank robbery. "I'm uh, theorizing."
To Steve’s right, Bucky Barnes snorted into his drink.
Peter groaned internally.
This had been a mistake.
A huge mistake.
He should not have agreed to come to lunch with Captain America and the Winter Soldier. He should not have sat down. He should not have opened his mouth—
“Something on your mind?” Steve asked gently.
—and there it was. The opening. The moment. The trap.
Peter froze.
“I—no. Nope. Nothing. Just… sandwiches. And eating sandwiches, and...”
Bucky leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand, eyes gleaming with interest. “He’s got that look.”
“What look?” Steve asked.
“The ‘I’m about to say something life-ruining’ look.”
“I do not—” Peter started, then stopped. “…do I?”
“Yes,” Bucky and Steve said at the same time.
Peter dropped his face into his hands.
“I’m gonna die.”
Steve immediately leaned in, concerned. “You’re not going to die. Why would you die?"
"Everybody dies someday."
"Bucky!"
"He's right, though," Peter sighed. "I think it's coming soon. I'mma die socially, at the very least. Unless I get killed. People really like trying to kill me. Well, not about this, I mean--nothing. I dunno what I mean."
"Tell us what you think you mean," offered Steve kindly.
"I think... I have a problem." Peter covered his face with his hands, sighing again.
Bucky perked up. “Problems? Ooh, I love this already. Keep going.”
Peter peeked up through his fingers. “You promise you won’t tell anyone?”
“Yes,” Steve said instantly.
“Absolutely not,” Bucky said at the same time.
Peter groaned louder. “Why am I even here?”
“Because you sought us out,” Bucky pointed out, grinning. “Which means you need advice. Which means this is gonna be good.”
"I did not seek you out. You both literally asked if I wanted to go to lunch with you, like an hour ago. I like food, so I came."
"Peter, don't listen to Bucky. It's okay, tell us."
"Rude." Bucky scowled at his glass of soda.
Peter hesitated.
Then he sighed.
Then he made the biggest mistake of his life.
“…there’s this girl.”
Bucky slapped the table. “YES.”
Steve startled. “Bucky—”
“I knew it! I knew it was a girl!” He pointed at Peter like he’d just solved a murder case. “Alright, kid, tell me everything. What’s her name? What’s her groove? Are we talking ‘intimidating genius’ or ‘sweet but would absolutely destroy you in a boxing match'?”
“…both?” Peter said faintly.
Bucky nodded approvingly. “Good taste.”
Steve cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the conversation. “Let’s slow down. Peter, what’s her name?”
“…MJ.”
And wow, okay, saying it out loud made it...
Better?
Nope, worse.
Both.
Steve smiled softly. “That’s a nice name.”
“It’s Michelle, technically,” Peter rushed on. “But she goes by MJ and she’s—she’s really smart and really funny and kind of sarcastic all the time but like, in a cool way, not a mean way, and she sees things? Like, she notices stuff, you know? And she doesn’t care what people think, which is—wow, that’s really impressive because people think a lot of things, and most of them are wrong, but she just—she just is herself, and—”
He stopped.
Because both of them were staring at him.
Bucky had the smuggest expression known to mankind.
Steve looked like someone had just handed him a very fragile, very important responsibility.
“I talk too much,” Peter mumbled, his face heating up.
“No, no,” Steve said quickly. “That was—good. That was really good.”
Bucky leaned back, crossing his arms. “Kid’s got it bad.”
“I do not have it bad,” Peter protested weakly.
“You just monologued about her personality for thirty seconds without breathing.”
“... Spider... powers?"
Bucky barked out a laugh.
Steve, meanwhile, was nodding like he was taking mental notes. “So. You like MJ.”
Peter stared at the table. “Yeah?"
"Why a question mark? I hear a question mark in that response," Bucky said, narrowing his eyes. "Yes, yeah? Or yeah, maybe, yeah?"
"Buck. Shut. Up."
Bucky grunted and crossed his arms, pouting slightly. Peter looked slightly relieved.
“Anyway. And you want to ask her out," continued Steve.
“…yeah.”
“And you don’t know how.”
Peter looked up, desperate. “I really don’t know how.”
Steve sat up straighter, clearly stepping into Captain America Advice Mode.
Bucky immediately made a face. “Oh, no.”
“What?” Steve asked.
“You’re about to give him advice.”
“Yes?”
“You had one girlfriend in the 1940s. One girlfriend, period."
Steve blinked. “That doesn’t mean I can’t—”
“You went into the ice before texting was invented, man, sit down.”
“I don’t need texting experience to understand feelings! When the hell did you figure out texting, Bucky? You were frozen a while too, remember?"
Bucky waved his hand around dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. I have insiders. I read Buzzfeed. I look up modern slang, Steven Grant Rogers. Sometimes it helps to know what ‘left on read’ means.”
Peter raised a hand slightly. “I know what that means and I’m afraid of it.”
“See?” Bucky pointed. “Trauma. Modern trauma. You can’t help him.”
Steve ignored him completely and focused on Peter. “Alright. Here’s what you do.”
Bucky leaned over to Peter and stage-whispered, “Don’t listen to him.”
Peter made a strangled noise.
Steve pressed on. “You be honest.”
Bucky gagged dramatically.
“Not brutally honest,” Steve added quickly, shooting Bucky a look. “Just… sincere. Tell her you enjoy spending time with her. Ask if she’d like to go somewhere with you.”
Peter blinked. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“That sounds—simple.”
“It is simple.”
“It is not simple,” Bucky cut in. “Feelings are never simple. You gotta have strategy.”
Steve frowned. “You don’t need a strategy to ask someone out.”
“You absolutely do,” Bucky argued. “Timing. Delivery. Confidence. Mystery.”
“Mystery?” Steve repeated.
“Yeah. You don’t just lay everything out. You keep ‘em guessing.”
Peter looked between them like he was watching a tennis match. “Should I… be mysterious?”
“No,” Steve said firmly.
“Yes,” Bucky said at the exact same time.
Peter made a small, distressed sound.
Steve leaned forward. “Peter, listen to me. You don’t need to pretend to be someone else. If MJ likes you, she’ll like you.”
Bucky rolled his eyes. “That’s very wholesome, old man, but also—confidence helps. Stand up straight, don’t ramble—”
“I don’t ramble,” Peter said.
Both men just looked at him.
“…okay, I ramble. A little bit. Sometimes."
“Eye contact,” Bucky continued. “Important. Not creepy, though. There’s a line.”
“There is a line,” Steve agreed
“How do I know where the line is?” Peter asked, horrified.
“You’ll feel it,” Bucky said. "When your eyes start hurting."
“That is not helpful,” Peter said.
Steve softened his voice. “You don’t have to get it perfect. You just have to try.”
Peter swallowed.
“…what if she says no?”
Bucky shrugged. “Then you survive. It sucks, but you survive.”
Steve nodded. “And you’ll be okay.”
Peter looked down at his hands.
“I really like her.”
“I know,” Steve said gently.
Bucky tilted his head, studying him for a second—then, unexpectedly, his tone softened just a little. “Then it’s worth the risk, kid.”
Peter let out a slow breath.
“…okay.”
A pause.
Then—
“…what if I accidentally confess my undying love or something instead of asking her out?”
Bucky lit up. “Oh, that’d be amazing. Do that, please."
“Do not do that,” Steve said immediately, slapping Bucky on the cheek. "Peter, I'm serious. Don't listen to this jerk."
Peter groaned, dropping his head to the table. “I’m gonna mess this up.”
Steve smiled. “Probably, but who knows?"
Peter peeked up. “…that’s not reassuring, Mr. Rogers.”
“But you’ll learn from it,” Steve added.
Bucky smirked. “And we’ll be here to make fun of you.”
"Great, thanks.”
“Hey,” Bucky said, reaching across the table to place and hand on Peter's shoulder. “That’s how you know we care.”
Peter huffed a small laugh despite himself.
“…thanks. I think.”
Steve raised his glass. “To trying.”
Bucky raised his. “To hot women." (He got another slap from Rogers. "He's a kid, Bucky.")
Peter hesitated, then lifted his too.
“To not completely embarrass myself.”
They clinked.
And Peter Parker was absolutely doomed.