oh, valentine

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( quartz )

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( quartz )

. . .

Valentine's Day usually passes in a blur for Peter. It's much like any other day. He'll carry out his usual routine, but instead he'll stop to buy Aunt May flowers or her favorite cupcakes on his way home. It's a strong belief to Peter that familial love, and that between friends, should be honored on the day, too.

This Valentine is different. Not wholly so, but he's hoping to include someone else into his tradition. When he stops to buy Ned a card, he'll take his time and peruse for the perfect card for the special someone, too. His nerves are a knotted ball, and Peter takes into account every possibility of what could go wrong.

But there's one thing that he could have never foreseen...

* * *

The diner is tranquil, like the few minutes before falling into a deep sleep. There's a few couples huddling in booths, and a sprinkling of patrons sat on stools up by the counter. Everyone speaks in hushed whispers, and the only loud sound is the occasional scraping of a fork.

You seize a table and scoot up to the window. The glass is a misty white from the cold, and the lights outside are hazy blobs of color. A text message from your friend, and a persuasive phone call had led you to the diner. It was uncertain why exactly, as they had plans for their Valentine's Day. You were only assured that it was important.

Time feels like it's dragging on, but it's actually ticking on by quick. Patrons pay and leave, with new ones taking their spots, but you're still there, alone. You're considering leaving. Maybe your friend forgot, and resumed their plans. The door carves open and a gust of chill runs up to you as you move to stand. Peter's in the doorway, his gaze bouncing from table to table. It stops on you.

"Hey, Y/N," he greets once he's standing beside your table. "Leaving already?"

You nod, a warm smile slips onto your face as you do. "Yeah, a friend was supposed to meet me here." You shrug, trying to shake the disappointment. "I guess they forgot, or something."

Peter nods in understanding, his smile sympathetic and a mix of something... else. "Maybe they're running late." He rocks back on his heels, and you can feel the eagerness radiating off him. "I can uh, wait with you if you want."

"I'd appreciate that. Thanks, Parker."

Peter's full of stories and quips, and soon enough you forget about your friend. You order warm drinks, a basket of fries with melted cheese, and a stack of pancakes. The Stark Internship, as Peter calls it, demands a lot of his time, but he's thankful for the small moments. Like, the one with you-where he can take a break and relax. The question if he knows the Avengers is on your lips, but Peter freezes before you can ask.

"Penis Parker!"

You know that cocky voice, and the smug person it belongs to. Flash waves a gloved hand when he spots you, and takes it as an invitation to sit down beside you. Peter's discomfort is palpable.

"Flash," you greet. It's an odd relationship with him. You wouldn't call him a close friend per se, but he's always been nice to you. "No date this Valentine's Day?"

Flash shakes his head and swipes a fry. "I am my date. What about you, Y/N?" He glances at Peter. "What's up, loser? It's obvious why you don't have a date."

Peter rolls his eyes but still smiles.

"I got stood up by Y/F/N," you answer Flash's question. "So... you're not going to order something?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah."

You wait for him to get up and leave, but he doesn't. Flash stuffs a few more fries into his mouth. It's an awkward moment. Peter's discomfort is palpable, and Flash's disregard for it makes it worse.

"These are good fries," Flash finally mutters, still eliminating them one by one. He coughs, and you fear he's choking but he sucks in a breath. "Hey, wait."

Peter leans forward, his eyebrows creasing as he stares at Flash. Your attention is piqued, too, as the look on Flash's face hints at some riveting revelation. His eyes widen as he glances at you and Peter, like he stumbled in on some terrible secret. You nudge his shoulder to urge him on.

Flash's mouth drops open. "Is this a date? Between you and Penis Parker?"

You open your mouth to protest, but stop. If it were a date, it would have been the loveliest one. The reality of it not being a date saddens you. You look to Peter for support, or clarification. Anything to answer Flash.

Peter glances away, quiet as he studies the window.

"No one's answering," Flash's eyes are bulging now with the way he's widening them.

"I don't believe it's a date," you finally answer. Flash looks skeptical. "Peter was just waiting with me."

"But what if it was a date," Peter starts, Flash blanches, "I mean, would that be so bad?"

You shake your head. Too quick to portray calm. You don't care, though. Not that Flash is beside you, his face frozen in disgust and glee, not that it's far too cold, nor that your friend stood you up.

"This is, wow, yeah, I'm leaving," Flash sputters out as he shoots up. You can see his brain working for an insult, but he glances at you and rethinks it for something less offensive. By Flash standards, that is. "Peter, though? Really? You could date like, Spider-Man, and you like Peter."

Once Flash is gone-he's sat at the counter ordering a to go fries-Peter seems to find his courage once more. He fishes into his bag and pulls out a card. It's white and red: white hearts against a red background. It slides across the table to you, and you think Peter's hand is shaking as he makes the exchange.

"I got this for you," he rushes out, "Happy Valentine's Day."

You peel the card open. Peter's handwriting is neat to the point you're almost envious of it. The message is sweet, a rather in-depth compliment that leaves you feeling giddy. Towards the end of the card reads, will you be my Valentine?

"Um, it can be platonic, if you want," Peter says. He's fidgeting with his hand, stops, sits up and leans back. "Unless you don't want that, and you could always be my Valentine?"

You're about to speak - to say yes a million times - but Flash cuts in, "Tell him yes before he passes out or something."

You spare a glance at Flash. He's focusing on Peter. His hands portray a heart, which then gets broken. Flash runs his thumb across his throat. Peter pales in response.

With a grin, you shake your head in dismay at Flash's threat. Peter's gaze is locked on you now, like you're the center of his world. He swallows, anxious.

"Yes, Peter. I'll always be your Valentine."

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