"Hi."
Your fingers stilled from their nervous fidgeting when Peter's voice guided you out of your thoughts. Looking up, you were met with his soft smile from across the sofa, a hint of humor in his eyes as he hid his amusement — quite successfully, if you might add.
"Hey." You mumbled, reaching out as Peter slipped his hand into yours, sliding over until he was next to you and leaning over to lie his head on your shoulder. His other arm curled around your waist, and you instantly dived into the comfort.
"Y'know, you've been in a staring contest with the Winter Soldier, sparred against the Black Widow, and fight crime for a living — yet, you still get so nervous around Aunt May, it's almost unbelievable."
Peter's cheek twitched, and you felt his smile growing against your skin. You, however, kept your gaze locked on where he molded his hand against yours, letting go just to press your palms together before interlocking your fingers again.
"That's because she's your Aunt May." You answered lamely, as if there were no further explanation. The boy just nodded because he knew; you've had this conversation the first time he brought you home to meet her.
It surprised you both, how much of your bravado had disappeared once you had stood in front of the apartment door and knocked to meet May for the first time. Like it had suddenly dawned on you that this was the woman who had raised Peter, as well as the sudden feeling of acceptance you craved from her. She was the most important person to Peter, and therefore became the most important person to you.
Of course, nothing bad had happened. She greeted you with a warm smile and was nothing but inviting and curious in all the best ways. If anything, Peter had been the one nervous by the end of the day in a turn of events. As he watched you and his aunt hit it off so quickly, he feared the both of you together would be both the best and worst thing to ever happen to him.
Even if it has been years since then, you could never shake those feelings of nerves away. At least, not until the conversation progressed and you could finally convince your brain that there was nothing to worry about.
You admired May in her entirety; from the way she single-handedly raised Peter while working two jobs, to how she could simultaneously the most comfortable person to be around but also held that air of authority that comes from being a parent, to how she couldn't tell salt and sugar apart unless she did a small taste test beforehand.
You saw so much of Peter in her — or should you say, you saw so much of May in Peter. His aunt — as well as his late uncle — made the boy into the one you knew and loved; from the small quirks to even personality traits. You respected May, and you soon found yourself placing her alongside Pepper, whom you also saw as your parental figure, and you knew part of you would be complete if you could please her.
"She loves you, you know that," Peter reminded you in a tone that you could only guess was complimented with a roll of his eyes. "But if it helps, she's always just as nervous as you are."
Intrigued, you raised your eyebrows, but a small scoff escaped your mouth instead.
"No, I'm serious!" Peter sat up and you turned to face him. "She thinks she might do something to scare you away, since I've never really dated anyone before." Peter cleared his throat as he paused, a light flush creeping up his neck. "Besides, she's wanted this way longer than I have. She really likes you, which makes me really happy, because I really like you too."
You felt your face heat up as blood rushed to your cheeks, and before you could saw a word, May emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel and looking like she had just gotten back from the Sahara Desert.
"Ham's in the oven, so all we need to do now is just relax until it's done," she sighed, collapsing into the armchair across from you and Peter and you could see her physically become one with the cushions.
"We told you we could've helped if you wanted," Peter laughed beside you, and his aunt smiled as she took out the clip in her hair and pulled her glasses from her pocket, slipping them on.
"And I told you that it wasn't necessary and that I have it completely under control this year! One of these days, there's gonna be a holiday where the meal goes off without a hitch, and I'm making that today." She stated, and you couldn't help but to applaud the confidence she had in herself, despite the odds. May's reputation with cooking wasn't necessarily a bad one, but it wasn't technically great either.
"Do you want some water?" You offered, beginning to stand up, as you noticed how hot she must have been in the kitchen.
"I'll get it!" Peter shot up before she could even answer, darting into the kitchen, earning two amused scoffs.
"This boy," a fond smile lit up May's face and you couldn't help but to mirror her expression, angling your body to better face the woman. "Is he still trying to impress you?"
"I'm not sure how getting a glass of water could impress me." You chuckled.
"Oh, that's not what I mean," May let out a soft sigh as the sound of a surprised yelps and the clattering of dishes came from the kitchen, a sign that Peter was probably in a battle with falling cups. "You've had to have noticed all the little things he's done for you. I don't remember a time when he hasn't put you first since he met you."
You smiled, but the little furrow between your eyebrows gave away the small unspoken question you hadn't voiced yet.
Since November, you've had the feeling that there had always been a crush Peter had never acted on — or at least, one he had way before you did — but you never put much thought into it. If you were being honest, you were a little busy trying to sort out your own feelings.
But it made sense. Never had it been any giant gestures, but for as long as you could remember, Peter had always payed special attention to you. At the time, you had just chalked it up to him being your closest friend, and it never brought any suspicion because he always put others before him — even for the littlest of things — but with you, there had always been some element of tenderness that in hindsight, you couldn't call platonic.
The crease disappeared as the question dissipated, and your smile was directed inward as you filled with a variety of happy feelings that swarmed around your head, putting you in a state of ease and content.
"I'm happy he chose you." May's voice was soft and you met her gaze, her eyes the same brown and giving off the same feeling of warmth Peter's did that it was still hard to believe the two of them weren't biologically related. "Try to catch the way he looks as you, and you'll know why. You do it too, now."
An explanation wasn't something you needed, it already being in the undertone of her words, able to be deciphered as easily as if she had just spoken it plainly.
After what seemed like an unnecessary amount of time, Peter came back from the kitchen with the water in his hand. Noticing the shift in his demeanor, you watched as he slowly walked over to his aunt and silently gave her the cup. Your eyes stayed on him as May took a sip, her doing the same as you were.
"Is...everything okay?" You asked lightly when Peter just continued to stand nervously across from May, glancing at the kitchen.
"I really didn't want to ruin your moment," he started slowly, an apology in his tone, "but I think the glaze is burning and I didn't know how to fix it."
"Oh no," you frowned as May sighed, taking another large gulp of water before standing up.
"One holiday." You heard her mutter under her breath as she stood up, turning and rushing to the kitchen. Peter smiled nervously, and you just shook your head. "Just want one!"
🐰🐰
"I wasn't there, but I heard Morgan absolutely smoked you in the egg contest."
"What— No. No she did not." Peter stammered in defense. "Who told you that?"
May smirked as the spotlight turned to you, obviously amused to hear the story about her nephew.
"Vision. And he sent me the footage too." You pulled out your phone from your pocket and set your plate of food down. "Wanna watch?"
"Yes please." May sat forward, hopping over to sit in the open spot next to you, and you held your phone out of reach from Peter.
"Wait! No, no, no, let me tell you what really happened." Simultaneously, both you and May quirked an eyebrow. "I let her win!"
The living room burst into laughter, and you pulled up the footage regardless, fast forwarding to one of your favorite parts.
"Why do I have a feeling you didn't just let her win?" May said between chuckles, watching Peter slump into the couch as if he were trying to make himself disappear.
"You only collected four eggs, Pete," you laughed as you remembered the timestamp Vision had given you. "Pep and Tony hid over 100."
Peter stayed silent as you finally found the part in the footage you wanted to show his aunt.
"I got...distracted, okay?" He finally mumbled.
"By a—" May squinted to look closer at the screen. "Is that a windchime?"
"It sounded pretty, okay!" Peter huffed in embarrassment. "Bruce had made it, and it was just sitting there, so I had to see how it chimed!"
"Did you seriously sit there for almost two hours?"
"You guys are the worst."
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Happy Belated Easter, to everyone who celebrated!
I know this is on the shorter side, and also not entirely holiday based, but I just really wanted to write some fluff ft. Aunt May and not give in to the part of me that's in the mood to write some angst.
That being said, I watched Rise of the Guardians on Sunday, and every year I forget just how many feels I go through watching that movie, I love it so much