We're going to party, karambo, fiesta, forever

[spideyguy]

Peter is so unfailingly bad at this sort of thing. Seriously, the first and last person he was involved with was Gwen, and she, somehow through the graces of God, adored his brand of terrible awkwardness. It's been - well, frankly, it's been a while, and he's not even sure how the other night happened, it just kind of did. Peter doesn't even have the excuse of being drunk because he can't get drunk.

Not that he's looking for an excuse, because if he was being honest, he liked Scott. Not to make it weird, or too emotionally heavy, but he'd always been a kind of a lonely person, especially after Gwen came and went. Now he knew what he was missing (and the fact that he blamed himself a lot for Gwen's death was Not Healthy). So when the other night happened - well, he wouldn't have let it if he didn't want it to.

So here he is, on Scott's doorstep with pie and shitty flowers because he is a human disaster. At least the pie survived? Why did his flowers attempts never work? Literally, every mother's day...maybe he should consider buying them somewhere else.

Peter hesitates a second before knocking, already panicking a little. Is he dressed too casually? No one has ever cooked for him before, should he have brought something else?

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[tictacs]

Scott doesn't question the finer details of what he's doing fooling around with a guy about ten years younger than him, give or take three. It doesn't matter that he actually likes Peter (which says a lot, given that the last time he'd liked anyone it'd been his mentor's daughter who he'd royally fucked things up with by kissing her prematurely), because it's probably still something to think about. Like, does he want to distract him from things like college or living his life or growing up by making dinner and having sex with him?

Okay, the answer to that is yes. But that's just Scott being selfish as shit and not considering the moral ramifications of his impulsive decisions.

Then again, not considering said moral ramifications has led to this: Scott opening the door to his flat (which he can afford now thanks to Hank Pym), Scott being face-to-face with Peter, and Scott unable to suppress his smile because the kid got him flowers. Lucky for him, Scott's the type to put flowers in vases, which he supposes he'll do later on. Also lucky for him is the fact that Scott practically lives for these cliches, which means his smile turns into a grin as he ducks his head the slightest bit.

"I didn't know we were doing gifts, Romeo," he says, opening the door wider and stepping back to give Peter some space. Jesus, he's adorable, which Scott already concluded that first night they went to have pie, but it's a lot different actually witnessing it in terms of someone-he-really-likes-who-he-also-screwed. "They really go well with your blush, though."

[spideyguy]

That's the thing about Peter - he may be young in years but is he really young in mind? He'd wager he's never really been a teenager, especially after becoming Spiderman - who else his age had the kind of life experience he did? Who else had watched people die they way he had? Even Gwen hadn't fully understood. But Scott - well he did, in the superhero capacity.

Besides, maybe Peter was due a distraction. Wanted one, even. And Scott had been a good friend before - now they just added another level of enjoying each other's company. Right? Right. He's not going to psycho-analyze it (he is, he totally is).

"Ah, shut up," Peter is absolutely tomato red, offering Scott the flowers. He seems to like them, despite being half-crushed and slightly wilted. "I was raised right, what can I say."

[tictacs]

As the flowers are passed from Peter's hands to Scott's, he dips his head to get a whiff of them and hide the stupidity of his grin. God, he's cute, and Scott supposes that for now that's really all that matters. He'll think about the consequences of his actions later.

"Not the only thing about you that's right, that's all I'm mentioning," he teases, and then the door is shut and he's making a little jerk of his head towards the direction of his well-loved sofa. The air has the very distinct scent of tomatoes and basil the deeper Peter walks in; needless to say, Scott's making baked spaghetti. "Make yourself at home, Peter."

He disappears down the hall for a moment, returning with a relatively aged vase from some flea market sale how many years ago. This Scott washes out quickly then fills with water, putting the flowers in and setting them on his kitchen counter.

"You ever have someone cook dinner for you besides your Aunt May?"

[spideyguy]

Peter clears his throat subtly and rolls his eyes at the, frankly, terrible pick-up line. Scott is a giant cheeseball, seriously, and Peter is already falling for it, hook, line, and sinker. He ducks his head with a small smile, stepping into Scott's apartment. "You know, you don't have to impress me. We uh, blew past that last night."

Peter inhales deeply as they head into the living room. With his senses, especially, it smells incredible. Peter shrugs off his hoodie and sits down on the couch, looking around with poorly-concealed interest. A person's living space told you a lot about them, and Peter was - well, curious.

"Does going to a friend's house for dinner with their family count?" Which he did exactly once with Gwen. Pizza at Harry's didn't really count as 'cooking'.

[tictacs]

Scott genuinely has to take a moment to stare, head turned and eyes unblinking as he takes in Peter's genuine, awkward honesty. To be fair, Peter makes him smile all the same (damn it, he always makes him smile, why the hell is he so weak?), but he shakes his head and makes some vague gesture with his hand. "No," he answers promptly, corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin. "It doesn't count, Peter. Family dinners are cooked for the family.

"The pasta I made tonight is for you." Scott pokes two fingers into his stomach, teasing. "And your ridiculous appetite."

Their relationship doesn't feel any different, physical boundaries and their changes aside. Scott's still got his terrible jokes, Peter's still got his own terrible jokes, and it's natural shifting from poking the guy to lightly tickling his side. Maybe things don't have to be awkward. Maybe Scott's just thinking too much.

He's laughing either way. "I can't believe I'm having you over for dinner. And you brought me flowers. And this is a date. Isn't it?"

[spideyguy]

"Then uh...no, no one's ever cooked for me before." Peter leaned forward a little, raising an eyebrow at Scott. "I guess you're my first. Congrats." He shrugged, though he couldn't deny the way Scott was smiling at him genuinely pleased him. "Make it count."

"Is that a challenge?" Peter swatted at his hand, blush tinging his cheeks. "Is it my fault a radioactive spiderbite boosted my caloric intake way beyond normal? No. I am a victim!"

The tension between them isn't really tension so much as nerves, and Peter can't tell if Scott is feeling it or not. Maybe they're both reading into it; one night didn't change who they were, how comfortable they were as friends. Except Peter is all blushy and awkward because they're not just friends. They boned on the carpet, plain and simple, and it was fun. Hence the dinner-date the following night.

Starting a tickle war with a superpowered spider-human hybrid is probably not the best idea but by god, Scott Lang had done it anyway. Peter grabs at Scott's hand and attacks his stomach, mischievous grin lighting up his face.

"I mean. Yes? I think? If you...want it to be." Okay now he's a little worried it's not and he freaked Scott out by bringing him flowers, shit.

[tictacs]

Of course Peter tickles back, the son of a bitch. Scott laughs because how could he not, making little, useless grabs with his hands until he finally grips two wrists in them. "It's--" He's trying to catch his breath now, which is a pretty difficult thing to do, maniacal laughter taken into account, but when he does he's still holding Peter's hands and he's got his thumbs on the dips between the balls of his palms and--

Yeah, okay. Scott takes this very moment to lean over and kiss Peter on the mouth.

He figures they're done with the softcore bullshit of being pretend-innocent and coy, anyway.

"Don't worry," he says, every word spoken with a smile. It's in the tone of his voice, too, the echoes of his earlier laughter, but his happiness comes more from the fact that he'd just stolen a kiss from someone he really, really likes. "Totally want it to be a date. I don't wear nice shirts for anybody, you know."

[spideyguy]

Peter lets Scott stop him, grinning as he watches him try to catch his breath. Peter honestly hasn't laughed like this with anyone in a while, but he figures if it was going to be anyone it would be Scott. He was like, perpetually sunny, just...generally positive, which wasn't exactly a quality you found a lot in the superhero-vigilante community.

Then they're kissing, and Peter doesn't squeak (he totally does) before kissing him back. It's relatively chaste and short, but Peter can still feel the shy smile spreading over his face.

"That's supposed to be a nice shirt?" Peter squeezes Scott's hand playfully.

[tictacs]

"You trying to hurt my feelings on purpose, pie boy?" Scott murmurs, and just because he can't resist there's another smooch pressed to those willing, happy lips.

Why he'd kissed Peter the night before is the same reason he has now. He's just ridiculously easy to be around, and Scott could always use a little jolt of happiness.

"'cause it's not working." He speaks softly, warmly, sucking once on Peter's lip. "I'm still into you."

[spideyguy]

"Me? Hurt your feelings? Never." Peter chuckles quietly, letting his lips linger on the corner of Scott's mouth. He should be more worried about this, the two of them. But then, Peter wasn't exactly in a position to turn down someone that made him genuinely happy.

And Scott - he's not really asking anything in return besides being with him. Peter's gotten used to exchanging favors for favors; it's how the vigilante community runs. It's nice to have someone who doesn't need something from him.

"Give it a day or two. You'll realize I'm a dork." Peter warns, letting out a quiet sound of approval as Scott sucked on his lower lip, one hand finding the older man's shoulder.

[tictacs]

Oh, that's nice. Peter's hand is warm even as it rests over a layer of clothing, nice and solid and real. Scott's knuckles trail lazy paths up Peter's side, then stop so his palm can settle on his waist.

"Joke's on you--I already think you're a dork." As opposed to another kiss, the tip of Scott's nose brushes against Peter's in a small show of affection. Jesus, he's not sure when he got so mushy, but he imagines if anyone ever found out he'd never hear the end of it. Then again, if it gets Peter to smile the way that he does, Scott supposes there's nothing wrong with being romantic.

There's another kiss, just so Scott can murmur words into Peter's mouth. "Totally still into you."

[spideyguy]

Peter's thumb brushed over Scott's collarbone through the cloth, hand starting a slow path down to Scott's chest. They're just inching closer together, but Peter certainly doesn't mind.

"Rude," Peter blinks at him, soft smile gracing his lips. Okay, that was way cuter than it had any right to be, damn you, Scott. "I guess it takes one to know one. You're practically dork central." Romance is definitely not something Peter has done in a while. But they're both in the same boat there.

"Sounds like another challenge. What will it take for Scott to dump me," Peter huffed a laugh against Scott's mouth, his other hand moving to Scott's neck, curling gently in his hair.

[tictacs]

There's security there, in the way Peter's hand grips him. It makes him smile that the touch there is so soft, so gentle. Peter's a strong kid--Scott knows that much happened because of radioactive spider gig--so touches like those make his stomach twist in ways he thought he left behind in high school.

Then again, the last time he'd fallen in love had been in high school, and Scott feels just as awkward and fumbling as he did then. Likely it's that feeling of liking someone so much you don't know what to do with yourself--which is embarrassing, but not any less true.

His voice, barely above a whisper, murmurs, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you wanted me to dump you."

And because Peter is mouthy and Scott is mouthy and sometimes they've really just got to shut up, the next time he kisses him he parts Peter's lips with his tongue.

[spideyguy]

Peter had a bad habit of letting his strength get the better of him, constantly breaking his phone, or his doorknob, ripping his shirt - anything he owned, really, was on a ticking clock. But when he was focused on Scott, like this, he took care to be gentle, almost nervous to break him. He doesn't feel this way often; he doesn't embrace anyone that often, really.

"Wait, are we going steady? You didn't even offer me your letterman jacket." Alright, this isn't bad at all, Peter is really liking making out on Scott's couch. Some tiny part of him even thinks, could get used to this. If Scott would have him, that is.

Relaxed, no rush or threat looming over them, surrounded by the warm scent of basil and tomatoes and Scott - heart beat strong and vital in Peter's ear - he hums and kisses Scott back, parting his lips and inviting Scott's tongue in.

"Been sampling your cooking?" Peter chuckles quietly against his mouth when they have to part, briefly, for air. Scott tastes like pasta and whatever minty toothpaste he probably uses. But also - sweet, in a way? It's either Peter's ridiculous senses picking something up, or his imagination, but it makes him flush, pleased.

[tictacs]

Of course not even kissing could shut Peter up for long, but Scott likes that about him. Likes that he can laugh right after their mouths have touched, after their tongues have brushed together and Scott's hand has settled on the warm curve of Peter's thigh to draw him closer. He's not going to lie--he almost forgot about dinner. Lucky for him, though, the pasta doesn't smell like he's burning, and he's got just enough time to suck Peter's bottom lip fondly.

"Two things: yes, I tasted my sauce before putting it in, because you only deserve the best." Another kiss, but this one is more chaste; a display of affection meant to be just that as opposed to some hint for something more. "And yeah. Yeah, I'd like to give you a letterman jacket. If I had one."

He dips his head to kiss Peter's jaw, and then reluctantly pulls away--but not without brushing his fingers through his hair, the corner of Scott's mouth pulled into a sheepish smile. "But how about I feed you first, huh?"

[spideyguy]

After Uncle Ben made Peter feel incredibly awkward and gave him all the technical details, Aunt May had come in to talk to him about the when's and why's. They totally tag-teamed it. Sex isn’t like it is in the movies. Sex is giving yourself to someone in the most intimate way you can, Peter, and if you can’t laugh with the person you’re having sex with while you’re having sex with them, you shouldn’t be having sex with them at all.

"Well it tastes delicious. My compliments to the chef." Peter smiles against Scott's mouth, very much enjoying the closeness. "Well if we're pooling resources - all I've got is a Mathletes sweater, but you're welcome to it."

"Food sounds wonderful," Peter nods, trailing his hand along Scott's arm before he moves to get up. "It smells awesome, and it's making me starving."

[tictacs]

"When are you not starving?" Scott teases, but he does make his way to the kitchen and grabs some oven mitts to take the spaghetti out of the oven. As he opens it the smell of tomatoes, herbs, and the vaguest hint of cheese fills in the room more than it already did, and he lifts the door with his foot and bumps it closed. Dipping his head to the kitchen table to grab a hot pad between his teeth, he makes his way to his tiny dining table and deposits that right in the middle for the tray. Everything's already been set: plates, utensils, little napkins if necessary.

Once Scott removes the aluminium foil covering--carefully, so as not to remove any of the cheese on top--he looks at Peter with a grin. "Tada."

All he has to do is find the pitcher of water in the fridge to bring to the table, and then he's moving to get a good serving of pasta to put on Peter's plate. "Anyway," he starts, topping off the noodles for Peter before moving on to his own, "I'm really hoping you'll enjoy the first dinner anyone's made for you. And I'm not gonna lie, my ego's pretty happy I'm the first."

[spideyguy]

"Okay to be fair, I can literally eat my own weight probably twice over, so." Peter gets up, trailing after Scott into the kitchen and watching him bustle around, preparing the food. Organized chaos was the best description of that experience.

"It smells amazing. Seriously." Peter tapped the side of his nose. "Enhanced senses, I'm drowning in saliva from how good that smells."

"Your ego seems to be getting a lot of attention recently," Peter teased, sitting down at the table and unfolding his napkin to set it in his lap. "First the rug burns, now dinner. Don't let it go to your head, Lang."