Five Minutes

Five minutes.

It was Sam's idea to go to the New Year's party. For a good reason, too. This was his chance to make his move, and if everything turned out okay, it would be an awesome way to start the New Year. If not... well, he brought alcohol for a reason.

He wasn't drinking, though. Sure, he held a red Solo cup of the stuff, but the smell made him nauseous, and with his nerves acting up like this, he didn't any help on the whole 'getting sick' front.

Four minutes.

He's just standing there. The idiot is just standing against the wall, laughing with Luke about something or other, and he hasn't even glanced over at Sam in two minutes.

Not that he was paying attention to the idiot, or anything.

No. Sam was doing a very good job at ignoring the Web Head, and his shiny brown hair, and sparkling brown eyes-

Okay. He was doing a horrible job at ignoring the web slinger.

Three minutes.

Sam excused himself from his conversation with MJ, making up an excuse about copying Peter's homework before classes started back up next week. He thought he was being very subtle and smooth, but the smirk on the red head's face made him think otherwise. He thought about sticking around to find out what that look was about, but made up his mind when he saw the clock ticking.

Two minutes.

Sam didn't remember the walk over to Peter and Luke, or what he did with that stupid cup, but he did remember smirking at Peter's face when he leaned against the wall next to the brunet. It was a mixture of surprise, and - though Sam as sure he imagined this last bit - happiness.

"Yeah, well, as I was saying, Pete, I gotta go help Harry with the noise makers," Luke said, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder.

Peter laughed. "You sure you aren't going to go talk to that girl who's been ogling at you all night?"

The bullet proof teen cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe," he smirked, and walked away.

One minute.

Sam's mouth was dry.

"So, Parker - er, Peter, I, uh... how you likin' the party?"

The web slinger smirked, and glanced at the TV, which showed the ball preparing to drop. "I guess it's pretty cool. I haven't seen you around much, though."

"Well, yeah, I was just hanging with MJ, you know."

He was hopeless. What an idiot he was to think he could actually do this. Sam Alexander with Peter Parker, AKA Spider-Man? Yeah right.

Thirty seconds.

People were crowding around the TV now, despite there being a massive, digital clock hanging on the wall just for this occasion. Harry Osborne didn't mess around with these things.

Someone was passing around champagne, and when the tray passed by the two boys off to the side, Sam took one eagerly.

"You sure about that?" Peter asked. "We volunteered to go on patrol night, remember?"

Shit. If this went down the toilet, Sam was so screwed.

Fifteen seconds.

Get ahold of yourself, Sam chanted. You're Nova. You're part of the freaking Guardians of the Galaxy. It's just a boy. A really, really cute boy, with hair like silk (he would bet on it, anyway), and eyes like pools...

Oh, he was so screwed.

Ten...

"What, you're not going to make a move on someone?" Peter asked, and Sam nearly choked. "Really, I'm touched that you'd rather be with me, Bucket Head."

Name calling. This was their normal, their happy medium. He could do that.

"Yeah, well, it's not there are any girls here worth starting the New Years with."

Peter hummed, and Sam found himself avoiding eye contact. He was a coward.

Five...

The countdown began, and Sam gave up. Maybe next year.

Three...

Two...

"You're the most idiotic person I know, you know that?" Peter asked.

Shocked, Sam looked at him with wide eyes.

One.

Peter's hands were placed firmly on the wall, and too late, Sam realized he was trapped. While people cheered, Peter's lips landed on his, and Sam was so surprised he forgot how to breathe. Hell, he forgot where he was.

After a few seconds of no response from Sam, Peter pulled back, looking nervous. "I didn't just misread you, did I? I was dumb to listen to the guys, wasn't I? Shit, I totally just ruined everything, I'm the worst leader ever, shit, Fury is gonna kill me 'cause I ruined the team, and-"

Sam had had enough. Hesitantly, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against the still rambling Peter's, who immediately shut up.

Sam was tempted to run his hands through his crush's hair, desperately wanting to test his theory on the whole 'soft-as-silk' thing, but settled for latching onto Peter's blue over shirt as it flapped open.

Peter tasted like peppermint, and Sam never thought chapped lips would feel so amazing against his. He let Peter take the lead, finding a thrill in being pinned against the wall with a hot guy hovering over him.

The shrill noise of kazoos and other annoying things surrounded the boys, and they reluctantly pulled away.

"You know," Sam started, a light red dusting his cheeks, "I wouldn't mind getting a head start on patrol."

Peter laughed. "What, you don't want to hang out here with me?"

"I didn't mean alone, Web Head," Sam glared.

Still chuckling, the brunet took Sam's hand and pulled him towards the door. "You know what kinda sucks, though?" he asked, glancing back only briefly. "I waited all that time for you to make the first move, in case I was wrong, and here I am, having to cover your butt, as usual."

"Oh, can it, Webs."