thwipandquip | you know you're gonna be okay

Right.

[he says absentmindedly. he knows she's just clinging to him for practical reasons: so she doesn't fall to her doom, so she can steal his warmth on this chilly night, but oh if her breath warm against his neck doesn't feel nice and if peter revels in it for a moment and again pictures a situation where this isn't a post-mission flee for your safety situation, well that's between him and the universe. the squirming is distracting however, and deserves acknowledgment.]

Can you relax? I'm not going to drop you.

[to prove his point, he tightens his grip around her waist and gives her ample warning that they're about to keep moving.]

Now for the fun part. [he leaps off the edge, flicks his wrist to shoot a web toward the next building, swings then releases, and thwips all over again.]

[ kate would like to argue (surprise, surprise) that she is perfectly calm for someone well aware of the fact that the only thing keeping her insides still inside her right now is a single human body. sure, said human body happens to be juiced up with radioactive spider powers, but her point remains. even spiders can get flattened if they fall from a great enough height.

kate would like to argue, but she never gets around to it because a firm grip around her waist steals her breath, and then the subsequent falling and flinging and swinging properly knocks it right out of her. which is fortunate because otherwise she's sure she'd be screaming at the top of her lungs right now.

note to self: spidey-ing is... fun. just like peter said. better than any rollercoaster or bungee, putting ziplines everywhere to shame. is this what he feels everytime he does it? because she gets it.

a footer to that note, though: spidey-ing is also freaking terrifying and she's pretty sure she's gonna hurl and never get rid of the ringing in her ears. she opens her eyes once during it and it is easily in her top five of stupidest things she's ever done. and she once dated noh-varr. (lol sorry noh-varr.)

she doesn't loosen her vice-grip around him until he appears to slow, stop, and even then it's only marginal. she braves picking her head up, glances around. ]

Are we there yet?

Edited 2021-10-20 18:04 (UTC)

[even on his worst days, the ones he doesn't like looking back on — just after ben died, after his divorce, after may, peter has always loved swinging. the freedom of plummeting from rooftop to rooftop, just the webbing and his acrobatic abilities keeping him from going splat. much as he would love to do a few flips or rolls while mid-air, truly show off what he's capable of, the death-grip she has him in says it likely won't be appreciated. maybe they can do this another time when he can give her the peace of mind with a harness rated for tandem sky diving.

so he keeps them mostly steady no crazy stunts, but still fast, because going slow would just make the nausea worse. he has first-hand knowledge of that.

when he figures that he's gone far enough away that no one could reasonably follow, he slows, catching his breath while perching atop a gargoyle. peter snorts at her question. she's not even in the backseat and here she is sounding as impatient as a kid on a car ride.]

Not quite. Gotta get down first. Might not want to look for this part.

[if she chooses to heed his advice, it'll just be another few minutes of walking down the side of a building. no big deal. otherwise, if she opens those eyes and looks again she's going to see what probably looks like them hurtling toward their doom. it's fine. it's a day that ends in y for him.

eventually his feet hit ground for real and his grip eases, hand running down her back in what he hopes is a soothing motion.]

You can let go whenever you want, Kate.

[ next time — and there will be a next time, dammit — she'll be ready. better prepared, better dressed, better circumstances. she'll know what to expect so all she would have to focus on is enjoying herself.

but that's later. right now kate has to be contrary because of course she does, opening her eyes the moment he advises her not to. she can feel that sad little bagel churn in her stomach, but thankfully in her stomach it stays. she thinks she'll stick to the swinging and leave the wall crawling to the other adrenaline junkies; the whole horizontal thing is just messing with her sense of equilibrium way too much.

but finally, finally! solid ground. (bold of him to assume she'd want to let go—) ahem. carefully, she eases herself off until she's got both feet back on the ground, but her hands linger on his shoulders for a few moments longer as her knees learn to steady themselves again. ]

I didn't think the gargoyle perching was a thing.

[ it had always seemed too romanticized in all those dramatic art of him. ]

[he's fully expecting her to let go the minute his feet touch solid ground, and while she does unwrap her legs from around him, her hands don't quite leave, not right away. peter regards her carefully, his shoulders hunched, head tipped down so she doesn't quite have to strain so much. height differences can be such a pain.

now might be the time to broach that topic they'd tabled earlier, given that there's no imminent threats, they've got files to show their success, and the only real victim her is her hemline. he doesn't though, drawing back to a respectable distance as he scuffs his shoe on the cement. yep. she's still beautiful. you're so screwed parker.]

It's a good place to do the Sunday crossword or take a coffee break, and the pigeons are usually good about sharing.

[he jokes, about the pigeons at least. the other bits are true. they're in good shape to split up now. she's got files to pour over and he's got — well he's got zero plans but she doesn't need to know that. peter looks her up and down one more time, reluctant to leave and unsure about asking her to stick around.]

So... that wasn't terrible working together, was it?

[ she watches him wedge that distance between them, as curious as she is disappointed. though the space isn't wide enough that she can't reach out to carefully readjust his tie, pulled askew from all her clinging. this time when her hands linger, it's deliberate. ]

Surprising, right? [ or not. they've got pretty good chemistry in general; stands to reason they'd jive well in the workplace, too. ] I'd say we make a pretty good team.

[ speaking of chemistry... there are very few ways a scene like this could play out: two people lingering without real reason to, staring into each other's eyes, her hand still lightly curled around the silk of his tie.

of course she'd be the one to make the first move, of course. ]

Shouldn't you drop your date home?

[it's only fitting she make the first move as far as he's concerned. she did grope him earlier. the precedent's been set. it doesn't mean that he can't go along like a good boy, though.]

Most interesting date I've been on in awhile. [or not date. work date. whatever it is that they're calling it these days when a boy and a girl beat up a bunch of bad guys.] Sure. I was just planning on swinging home, but I guess I could take the long way and ride share.

[because he didn't drive here, doesn't drive much in general. it's for the best that she never see him get behind the wheel of a car. he's terrible with a capital T. but peter doesn't give her the chance to reply. not just yet.]

If this is your way of saying we're un-tabling that discussion, that is.

[ okay, so she hadn't completely thought this through. sure, not two seconds ago she'd been determined to do better the next time she swung — but she hadn't really considered the opportunity to do so would come up so soon. or that she'd be the one asking for it.

her jaw twitches slightly as she steels herself, and that casual grip she'd had on his tie tightens slowly into an almost-fist. ]

No... We can swing there... It's fine.......

[ she's excited for it. really. ]

But — yeah. Pretty much.

you know you're gonna be okay — open post

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