Chapter Text
You'd expect life living with the Avengers to be carefree. Days without worrying about domestic affairs. No grocery shopping, no laundry, no cleaning.
After all, they had a billionaire, a genius, a god, and several highly trained adults living in the same building.
Yet here Peter was, standing in the middle of a grocery store with Thor.
Apparently Steve had decided that chores should be divided equally among everyone. Peter personally preferred grocery duty over laundry or deep cleaning. At least this one involved spending Tony's money.
"Tell me, Man of Spiders," Thor said, stopping abruptly in the middle of an aisle.
Peter looked up from the shopping list on his phone.
Thor was holding a shopping cart.
Not pushing it.
Holding it.
Like he had discovered some ancient artifact buried beneath the earth.
"What is this Midgardian relic?"
Peter stared at him for a second before grabbing the cart from Thor's hands.
"Oh. Ah! That's a shopping cart." He placed it back on its wheels. "So we don't have to carry all our stuff."
Thor frowned.
"Insignificant."
Peter already knew where this was going.
"I, Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, am capable of carrying such non-heavy items."
Before Peter could stop him, Thor shoved the cart aside.
Peter sighed and immediately pulled it back.
"I doubt that."
Thor looked genuinely offended.
Peter pointed at him.
"You said that exact same thing the last time."
"And I was correct."
"You dropped six bags of groceries."
"The bags were poorly constructed."
"You dropped them off a bridge."
Thor opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Then nodded.
"The bags were still poorly constructed."
Peter groaned and pushed the cart forward before Thor could abandon it again.
"You should get another one."
Thor looked at the cart suspiciously.
"A second relic?"
"A second shopping cart."
Peter finally looked back at the list Steve had sent him.
The thing seemed to go on forever.
Milk.
Eggs.
Bread.
Coffee.
More coffee.
An unreasonable amount of coffee.
Peter didn't even need to ask who that was for.
He kept scrolling.
And scrolling.
And scrolling.
Honestly, he was starting to think Steve had accidentally written down the supplies needed to survive an apocalypse.
Peter glanced at the massive grocery store around them.
Then at the shopping list.
Then at Thor, who was currently staring at a display of bananas like they had personally insulted Asgard.
Peter let out a long sigh.
"This is gonna be a long day."
.
Back at the Tower, things were running about as smoothly as one would expect when Earth's Mightiest Heroes were forced to do household chores.
Which was to say—not smoothly at all.
A loud groan echoed from Peter's bedroom.
"Wasn't there a buddy system or some shit?"
Sam's voice carried through the floor loud enough for everyone to hear.
Steve looked up from where he was dusting a bookshelf.
"There is."
"Then where the hell is my buddy?"
A pause.
Steve blinked.
"...Isn't Tony with you?"
Silence.
Then another pause.
"Oh you've got to be kidding me."
Steve set the duster down.
Because if there was one thing he had learned over the years, it was that whenever Tony Stark disappeared during chores, it was never an accident.
Sure enough, Steve eventually found him exactly where he expected.
The lab.
Tony sat comfortably beside Bruce, a holographic screen floating in front of them as they discussed something Steve was fairly certain could wait another hour.
"You left."
Tony didn't even look guilty.
"I delegated."
"You disappeared."
"Semantics."
Bruce wisely chose not to involve himself.
Steve crossed his arms.
"Told Sam you'd help him with the bedsheets."
Tony finally looked up.
"Did I?"
"Yes."
"Huh."
Steve continued staring.
Tony sighed dramatically.
"You know, every day this team finds new ways to oppress me."
"Get up."
Tony groaned like he was being asked to carry the entire Tower on his back.
Bruce looked away, very clearly trying not to laugh.
Five minutes later, Tony found himself standing in Peter's room holding a bedsheet.
The betrayal was immeasurable.
Across the hall, things weren't going much better.
Natasha and Clint had somehow managed to turn laundry duty into a science experiment.
"Just how much soap did you put in again?" Natasha asked.
Clint shrugged.
"Like... two cups?"
Natasha froze.
The washing machine groaned ominously.
"Two cups?"
"Yeah."
"Clint."
"What?"
"That doesn't sound right."
Clint frowned.
The two of them stared at the machine.
The machine stared back.
Or at least it felt like it did.
Neither of them had ever actually read the instructions.
Why would they?
They were highly trained agents.
Laundry couldn't be that complicated.
A suspicious amount of foam began leaking from the machine.
Natasha pointed.
"That's probably normal."
"Yeah."
More foam appeared.
"...Probably."
By the time they realized something was wrong, soap bubbles were already creeping across the floor.
Neither of them would discover until much later that the correct amount was a quarter cup.
Not two.
Meanwhile, on the complete opposite side of the Tower, Steve and Bucky were the only ones actually succeeding.
The floors gleamed.
The shelves were dust-free.
The furniture had been moved, cleaned under, and moved back exactly where it belonged.
For once, Bucky had decided to take things seriously.
Or at least serious enough not to ride the mop around the hallway.
Steve stepped back and admired their work.
"Looks good."
Bucky nodded.
"Yeah."
A loud crash echoed from the laundry room.
Followed by Clint yelling something that sounded suspiciously like,
"WHY IS IT COMING OUT OF THE CEILING?"
Steve closed his eyes.
Bucky sighed.
Together, they turned toward the sound.
The peace had lasted almost twenty minutes.
A new personal record.
The elevator doors slid open.
Peter stepped out first.
Then Thor.
Who held another cart.
And another.
And another.
Each of them loaded with grocery boxes stacked nearly as tall as Peter himself.
By the time they reached the common area, Peter looking like he could use a break.
Thor, meanwhile, looked perfectly fine.
"The Midgardian market was most enjoyable."
Peter huffed.
"You bought half of it."
"Nonsense."
Thor lifted another box.
"I only purchased the necessities."
Peter didn't even want to know what qualified as a necessity to an Asgardian.
The two rounded the corner.
And stopped.
Peter blinked.
Thor blinked.
The floor was covered in bubbles.
Not a few bubbles.
An alarming amount of bubbles.
Enough bubbles to make Peter question if they had somehow entered a different multiverse.
Natasha was standing on a chair.
Clint was holding what appeared to be a mop.
Steve was dragging Tony by the back of his shirt.
And Bucky stood in the middle of it all looking completely lost.
Peter slowly lowered the box in his hands.
"...What happened?"
Nobody answered immediately.
Mostly because nobody knew where to start.
Steve looked at the mountain of grocery boxes instead.
"Why do you have so much?"
"It's complicated."
Peter shrugged.
"And Thor has a huge appetite."
Thor nodded proudly.
Steve looked unconvinced.
Then Peter pointed toward the bubbles currently spilling out of the laundry room.
"Are you sure you're supposed to be questioning us?"
Steve followed his finger.
A fresh wave of foam rolled into the hallway.
Something in Steve's expression broke.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
The kind of look a man got when he finally accepted defeat.
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
Then sighed.
"Peter."
"Yeah?"
"You deal with this."
And just like that, Steve walked away.
Nobody stopped him.
Not even Tony.
Peter watched the super soldier disappear down the hallway.
"...Did Captain America just quit?"
"Yes."
"Wow."
Tony immediately pointed at Clint.
"It was his fault."
"It was OUR fault."
"See?" Tony said. "Our fault. Not mine."
Peter looked around.
At the bubbles.
At Clint.
At Natasha.
At the increasingly worried-looking washing machine.
Then back at Tony.
"Mr. Stark."
"Yeah, kid?"
"How long have you been helping?"
Tony opened his mouth.
Closed it.
"Define helping."
Peter groaned.
A grin immediately spread across Tony's face.
"There he is."
Peter rolled his eyes.
"You abandoned sheet duty."
"Allegedly."
"Steve dragged you out of the lab."
"Allegedly."
"I can literally see the carpet burns."
Tony looked down.
"...Allegedly."
Peter laughed despite himself.
Then Thor suddenly stepped forward.
"Fear not, young Parker!"
Without warning, he lifted one of the grocery boxes over his head.
The cardboard strained under the weight.
Thor looked immensely proud.
"I have acquired the finest delicacy Midgard has to offer."
Peter immediately recognized the logo.
"Oh no."
Thor beamed.
"A whole box of Pop-Tarts."
The room fell silent.
Even Steve looked back.
"A whole box?" Clint asked.
Thor nodded.
"A magnificent purchase."
"Thor."
"Yes?"
"That's thirty-six boxes."
Thor paused.
Looked down.
Then back up.
"...A whole box."
Peter buried his face in his hands.
Tony laughed subtly attempting to escape the mess.
And somewhere in the Tower, Friday quietly updated the grocery budget.
Again.