thwipandquip | you know you're gonna be okay

past history not included, i can be completely professional even when you are distracting.
that's not an invitation by the way.

it's for my coffee. you're lucky it's not oatmilk.
soda. beer. wine is fine, just don't bring the lemon flavored vitamin water.
it's got a weird aftertaste.

in this case i dont think you can ignore past history
and i wasnt even trying to be distracting then
thats also not an offer but im just saying
pretty sure youd enjoy it

lemon vitamin water is just sad lemonade
the berry ones are the actual treasure here
but two six packs of both the non and alcoholic variety should work just fine

was i supposed to just ignore where your hand landed?
idk how etiquette works for situations like that.
of course i would enjoy it
birds fly. water is wet. etc.

no sad lemonade is lemon flavored sparkling water.
i like the dragonfruit variey.
pizza should get here in like an hour btw. apparently they're slammed for some reason.

theres a difference between noticing and enjoying
but if i have to be completely honest i was definitely hoping to get your attention that night

an HOUR? do you even have enough pictures to last us an hour

mhmm.
that makes two of us.
you definitely did have my attention. even before the accidental groping.

i'm sure we'll find something to occupy our time if i do run out of pictures.
scrabble maybe.

[or tipsy makeouts, lady's choice.]

i knew it you scamp
but dont get me wrong the mission came first of course
but that dress was definitely chosen with you in mind

scrabbles good
or

[ hmm. ]

what was that about indoor photoshoots?

[ fortunately she doesn't have to be tipsy to makeout with you, peter, but who knows. she wound up getting wine along with the beer after all. ]

[there's something very nice, a pleasant thrumming in his chest, that comes with confirmation of something he's only considered in his head: that they've made mutual strides in trying to impress each other well and before her run in with a young man and a loaded gun led to their confessed feelings. she really likes him, as if the things she's said and done since haven't also proved the same feelings. peter please.]

yeah we can do that.
something for your calendar or something just for you?
you DO have a calendar, right?

Edited 2021-10-28 21:02 (UTC)

[ in all honesty, kate never really thought they'd ever get to where they are now. if someone had told her on the night of that mission, as she slipped that dress on, that all those times she spent flirting and teasing had actually succeeded in not only catching his attention but keeping it.. well. she would have missed the mission entirely being too busy laughing at their face. sure, she had an inkling (a hope) that peter was at the very least attracted to her, but honest to goodness genuine feelings? that was something a little harder to pin down.

and now look where they are. ]

actually
i was thinking it could be something just for you

[ a-hem. ]

[look where they are indeed. suggestion made all the better by knowing that the words aren't empty, that if he were to ask her to stay the night that it comes hand in hand with them having breakfast, fighting over the comics section, and kisses that make his toes curl.

it doesn't erase that nagging worry that someone could go after her for being with him, but then again, someone could have gone after her before. they've both got their fair share of enemies. that's not new. but it's nice having someone in his corner, someone who feels equally invested in the idea that whatever things may follow that they'll tackle them together.

the sex doesn't hurt either. ahem.]

oh. OH. here i was just planning on taking pictures of you posing with your bow.
your idea works too. could take longer than an hour though.
we should probably discuss the details in person.

you know.
what you want.
what you're comfortable with.

Edited (stupid html is stupid) 2021-10-28 22:13 (UTC)

[ that's always the rub about their line of work, and some days it's a struggle to convince yourself that the benefits could outweigh the risks. but it'll be a cold day in hell before kate lets her decisions keep her from living and enjoying her life. maybe it's different, it's probably different. in some ways this life was thrust upon peter, but he chooses to continue to put on the suit, just like kate chooses to keep taking up her bow. it's a sense of duty, of guilt, of knowing they can do some good even if it hurts sometimes, a lot of the time.

but doesn't that all just mean they deserve what happiness they can find all the more?

she's trying not to think too hard about it. nothing past how good and right it feels, one day at a time. so far, it's been working for her. ]

honestly i didnt have anything planned past you and your camera and me and nothing else
so im pretty open to suggestions

so i'm naked in this scenario too?
that's not very professional of me.
i've got a few ideas, but i'll wait until you're here.

it's easier to explain if i can show you, but i promise, nothing crazy.

to be fair youre naked pretty often when i think about you

[ she soon gives him a tracker of her progress, drinks already in hand. ]

you're in various stages of dress when i think about you.

but i prefer the real thing to anything my brain can conjure up.

[oh good she's closer than expected. he grabs the lighting rig and sets it up in his room while he waits for her to show]

[ kate much prefers the real thing too, which is maybe why she's so eager to step out of her uber and walk up to his apartment building. she buzzes the intercom properly this time, even if she's starting to make it a habit of coming here at odd hours. no doubt peter's nosy neighbor has enough fodder to think up all kinds of salacious stories about them at this point. ]

Soda, beer, a bottle of the good cheap stuff.

[ she brandishes her evening's gifts with a loud crinkle of the reusable bag she got guilted into purchasing at the counter. she sets it down on peter's coffee table before shrugging off her jacket and leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips in greeting. she smells faintly of alcohol and leather, bit that's the bull's fault, honest. ]

[peter's nosy neighbors have graduated from merely giving him looks to making little comments under their breath whenever they cross paths while checking the mail. why does this girl come late at night but never during the daytime? what could she possibly see in such an older man? i have a nephew who is just about her age who would be more suited. then again if her habits of showing up so late are any indication, she must not be a good girl. it's almost enough to make him consider giving her a key just to avoid the awkwardness, but that'd bring a new set of things to deal with. he buzzes her in without a word, taking the last few minutes to set a shoebox on top of his covers (a very boring but typical masculine charcoal grey) before hurrying back over to open his door at the sound of her knock. damn. got the jump on him this time.]

Hey. Thanks.

[and then she's in his space, the scent of this evening's bar jaunt still clinging to her. it hasn't been that long, but the funny thing about relationships — good relationships but especially new relationships — is that time away always seems amplified. peter wraps an arm around her waist and gives her another kiss, slow, nibbling on her lower lip until she parts them and he can slot their mouths together a little better. there. now that's a kiss.]

Missed you. Box of photos are on my bed. We can go look at them whenever. Want me to grab you a glass or are you just going to drink your wine straight out of the bottle?

[ on the one hand kate feels pretty magnanimous to be providing those neighbors what is apparently the most excitement in their life right now. on the other, she dares them to say any of that to her face. she won't throw hands but she'll probably run her mouth enough to earn peter some disgruntled neighbors so maybe it's a good thing they don't cross paths unless he wants his packages stepped on.

the other funny thing about relationships is how even the little things seem like such a big deal. like how kiss hello can already leave her breath hitching, or a simple missed you has her ready to never leave his side again. embarrassing, but she also kind of loves it. ]

Drinking wine out of a "World's Okayest Spidey" mug is about on par with drinking it straight out of the bottle so I might as well save us a dish to wash and stick to the bottle.

[ she got him that mug, of course, and that was even pre-relationship. god her flirting skills are really A+, how did you ever doubt her feelings peter??

anyway now that she's in his arms it's difficult for her to want to move away, but there are photos to parse through and drinks to consume. shoes toed off, she plucks up the wine and leaves the beer and soda for peter before leading the way to his bedroom, a space that is quickly becoming her second favorite to occupy. (first is those arms again.) sitting crosslegged in front of the box, she tentatively lifts up the cover to peek inside. it feels a little wrong to start rifling through without him around to supervise, so she exercises some restraint for once. ]

Aw that's so sweet of you.

[and classy. that mug only ever gets used by her. he hides it in the depths of the cupboard and somehow she always manages to find it. but no matter how lukewarm he feels toward it, he can't seem to bear to get rid of the thing, touched that she would even give him such a ridiculous thing. they're so sweet on each other it's kind of pathetic that they ever doubted at all.

peter sets the beer and soda in the fridge to continue to chill, grabbing himself one of the sodas and then joining kate atop his bed, legs outstretched as she nudges the lid all the way off. inside are pictures of his family and friends (some a old as his teen years while others are more recent from aunt may's last days,) pigeons and scenes that would rival any guidebook to new york, and a few experimental self portraits. notably absent are any photos of mary jane ~~parker~~ watson. those live in another box, stubbornly kept because she's a huge part of his past, tangled up with the other parts of his life both in and out of the suit.

peter holds his breath while she rifles through them, waits for questions that he's sure will follow.]

[ in retrospect it's actually a good thing she'd never seen these photos until after they'd gotten together; she can't really do anything about the fondness that softens her expression as she flips through each photo. every one of them gets at least a minute's worth of attention, yes even the pigeons. her questions are relatively benign but still coming from a place of genuine interest — where/when was this? how old were you here? why are you making that fce? what the hell are jnco jeans?

predictably the ones she lingers on the most are of the ones he'd taken of himself. there's a particular one in black and white of his profile that she keeps coming back to, but if she had to pick a favorite... ]

You look so happy here.

[ she holds up a photo of peter, probably the age she is now, seemingly mid-laugh and a hand out towards the camera as if he were attempting to block it or grab it back from whoever had taken it. it's such a simple picture, but so vibrant in its simplicity.

she doesn't mention the elephant in the shoebox, though trust that she's definitely noticed the distinct lack of red. ]

[he knows that when he looks back however long in the future from now that this moment, more than any of the moments they've shared before, will stick out as one in which he realizes just how real things are between them and how deeply the feelings run. peter rests his chin upon her shoulder, arms wrapped around her as his hands join hers about midway through the box, peering at the photos along with her. he takes the journey back through time to each moment held static on glossy photo paper and answers the questions to the best of his ability, details of the oldest photos gone fuzzy over time. that one was when he was seven. this one was at coney island. the other a school field trip.

the one she lingers on the most is naturally one of the ones where mj's presence looms in he periphery. his voice is soft, a little sad, hangs on that yeah like its one of his webs and while he acknowledges that he was happy then, it's clear that the happiness is a little bittersweet. peter swallows the lump in his throat down.

no sense in dwelling on that past though. he's happy now after all.]

Edited 2021-10-30 14:25 (UTC)

[ that yeah is a soft sound against her ear, more syllable than word, twisting up in her chest like a fault she knows she'll be thinking about till the wee hours of the morning. she had a suspicion who might have been the one behind that camera — the affection in those eyes brighten up his features in an all too familiar way — and hearing him now only confirms it.

were she someone more prone to regrets, she might feel it now, worry that she might have ruined the evening, dredged up something unpleasant that she has no business encroaching on. instead she feels only a sympathetic tug at her heart, something protective that makes her want to shield him from everything that could ever make him feel this weighted, like the world's just bearing down on him with no remorse.

she runs her thumb over the shape of his smile on the photo before settling it down, reverently tucking it back into its place there in his memories. ]

Not sure about those frosted tips though. That was definitely a choice.

[ her ribbing is gentle, a bit at odds with the tenderness in her tone and the softness of the kiss she presses to his temple after she twists a little in his arms. too easy does she find it to tuck herself into the circle of his arms, leaning into his chest with her cheek resting on his shoulder. the wine bottle is still unopened, cradled between her legs, but it gives her itchy hands something to play with while she waits for the silence between them to grow comfortable again. ]

Aw. Stop it. Everyone has a stage in their life filled with questionable fashion choices.

[he offers with an ever so slight shrug of his shoulders. there's probably plenty of other moments that aren't documented (to his knowledge) that he isn't inclined to share. who needs to know about his punk phase anyway?

it's easy to just hang on like this, not saying anything else while he takes a deep breath, counts to ten and lets the past stay exactly where it belongs. he tugs at her sleeve to get her attention at last, ready to face the other part of the evening that she's suggested, to iron out just what she feels comfortable with, how they'll do this, or when because he's not convinced that they need to do it tonight even if he's prepped for it.]

So... do you still want me to take pictures of you?

[ she can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest with every deliberate breath, stays still throughout it all save for the slight tilting of her head, lips lightly pressing an encouraging kiss to the side of his neck. the tug on her sleeve has her sitting up some, more so she can get a proper look at the expression on his face. ]

Yeah. If you're still up for it.

[ she's not sure if the mood or evening has soured at all; while she's pretty sure it wouldn't be hard to shift things along, she's not entirely sure if they should. the past is the past but some memories deserve their respect. is this something she has the right to move them past? or should she be be sensitive enough to wait for the dust to properly settle. she's not sure, so she's willing to take cue from peter, what he's comfortable with, what he needs. ]

Absolutely.

[he looks at her then, voice sure, smiles just for her as he untangles from her arms and tucks the box of photos back in the closet before returning to the warmth and comfort of her embrace, kiss pressed to her cheek. his long held feelings for his ex might be something that still linger there in the background, never completely gone, but that's not going to cause any issues with what he feels for her. not at all. he may be unsure about lots of things — how to fix global warming, what's the best dessert in brooklyn — but he knows she's special, knows that she's the kind of person he wants sticking around.]

Do you really want to be naked for these photos?

[because he doesn't need pictures of her for those times when he'd like her there in his bed and she isn't. he'd be just as happy to capture the normal things in their life — her eating pizza, the mornings when she uses that damn coffee mug, the way she looks when the sunlight streams through his windows and she's just begun to blink her eyes open, or how she looks at the end of the night, face scrubbed clean. if it is though, he's going to be sure to keep them classy, subtle — her bare shoulder, her exposed back with his sheets pooling around her hips, her hands.]

Because you don't have to be, but I like that you trust me enough that you'd consider it and I like how you look in my bed. So much. But I also just like you in my apartment, in my space in general.

[ there's a little twinge of guilt that comes along with the relief she feels when he puts the box of photos away. she feels especially bad since she's the one who asked for them in the first place; she definitely should have had more forethought to realize rifling through memories means reliving the bad with the good. ah well. if he's ok with moving past it, she's selfish enough to grab at the chance.

she situates herself so that they're facing each other, slipping a leg on either side of him while she herself is tucked between his. she seeks her his hands out with hers, lacing their fingers together. ]

It was a thought. But mostly I want to make something for you, something that you'd really want. If that's me naked or posing with my bow or drowning in your spider suit, whatever.

I want —

[he pauses, squeezing her hands. so much he thinks. he wants more mornings, more pizza dates, more reasons for them to work side by side. ]

This. You. Here. I don't want to fill a box with your pictures. But I do want to take all of those photos. Because I'm pretty sure you'd look hilarious in my suit and I know you look good with your bow and —

[oh gosh why isn't she stopping him from running at the mouth? peter gives her another one of those looks that says he thinks she's amazing, that she's got him wrapped around her finger, that she could ask him to leap off a building with her and he would.]

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