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in which two best friends
(with benefits, possibly)
are each others' safe havens
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here's a lil sweet oneshot for you! I've had this in my draft for a while and figured that I should hurry and get it up as soon as I could lol
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After a particularly rough mission that had almost gone awry in Austria, the team was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to get back home and to get some decent rest, as barely any of them had gotten more than 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep in the past three days. While nobody had any injuries other than several cuts and bruises, they still felt both mentally and physically drained from all the pressure of taking down yet another HYDRA base, and yet again, risking their lives in the process.
You, on the other hand, were hit with the slightly worse end, though you would still choose spraining your ankle any day over having a bullet tear through your shoulder as you were running back to the Quinjet.
Trying to steady your shaking hands and ignoring the throbbing pain in your ankle, you let out a long exhale as you sat back down in your seat as your father, Tony, and Clint prepared for takeoff.
Peter noticed your tensed up figure as you pressed your fingers against your temples, hesitating for a moment before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side. You froze at first but then soon relaxed into his touch, closing your eyes as you felt the jet zoom up towards the sky and glide through the clouds.
"It'll be alright," he murmured into your hair as he held you close. "Okay?"
"Okay," you repeated quietly before letting yourself drift off to sleep.
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Soon enough the Quinjet touched down back at the compound, and after washing up, everyone gathered for dinner together, deciding that they were all in need of some family bonding after being so distant for the past few weeks because of busy schedules.
Everyone ignored the exhausted expressions on each others' faces as they all ate, talking and just conversing with one another as normal people would. It was just easier that way, to pretened like you all weren't burdened with the task of saving thousands of people that was weighing you down.
"You know, I was able to sleep five hours, uninterrupted," Bucky announced as he plucked a dinner roll from the bowl in the middle of the table. "Anyone else?"
"How is that possible? I got four...is that enough?" Wanda offered.
"Three," Peter replied.
"Two," Sam stated.
"Amateurs," you scoffed, a small grin on your face. "Thirty minutes."
"Holy crap, that's actually kind of bad," Peter raised an eyebrow. "And it isn't even I-wanna-kill-myself finals week, either."
"I guess."
"Kid, you need to get some more sleep," Steve informed you, looking rather worried.
"Says you, Cap," you countered. "You haven't slept in two days."
"...Touché."
"So tonight, we're all going to get some sleep, and we're actually going to try this time, alright? This applies to you too, Thor. Don't be flying around doing backflips in the air at 3 in the morning," Tony explained. "I don't want to wake up to that."
"Whatever you say, Man of Iron."
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You enjoyed staying up all night with Peter, conversing with one another about whatever came to mind so in those sleepless nights, met up on the balcony wrapped in thick, fluffy blankets and leaning back against giant pillows as you stared up at the stars together.
You liked this side of him whenever it came out; it was one of the rare moments in which he wasn't his usual, carefree but serious at the same time, self.
Tonight was one of those nights, as neither of you could seem to fall asleep so the two of you opted for going outside together and just talking about anything and everything, thoughts about the mission and countless other things cluttering your brains. You would stay up with him and just talk until there wasn't even a sliver of sun left over the ocean.
Although the team was completely convinced that you and Peter were wishing to become more than just friends, you thought of your relationship in quite the opposite way. They saw something in the way you two trained together or just spent time around each other in general, in those late-night conversations and long hugs, which you personally saw as nothing other than platonic.
You saw yours and Peter's relationship as just friends, teammates, because you knew that to fall for your best friend was not only cliché, but risky as well. Falling for your superhero best friend all while fighting crime and kicking butt together was also cliché.
So you pushed those feelings aside, convincing yourself it was okay to suppress your feelings when you knew that the outcomes weren't even going to be any better, anyways.
"Can't sleep again, huh?" you spoke as you slid the glass doors open, shuffling over to the patio couch on the balcony in your slippers, setting down your blanket and pillows next to a weary-looking Peter. "Long day?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I guess. How was yours?"
"Could've been better," you sighed, wrapping the blanket around yourself and leaning back against the sofa into your pillow.
"Insomniacs never have it easy."
"They don't," you agreed, staring out towards the horizon. The sky was a deep shade of velvety indigo, with a hint of dark and silvery clouds that seemed so wispy and dainty that they could be blown away with just a puff of air, and the stars looked like salt sprinkled onto a shiny black table. If it weren't for Peter's almost piercing gaze, with those deep brown eyes of his that seemed to stare straight into your soul, you would've been staring at the view for what felt like hours.
"You okay?" he asked in a low voice. "You seem tensed up."
"I'm alright," you replied, "just tired. Haven't been able to sleep lately."
The two of you sat in silence with only a few inches of space separating you both from touching, and you felt your heartbeat pick up speed at the thought of that alone before he spoke up again.
"I know it's been hard on you lately, with all that happened in Vienna and the work that's been pushed onto you by Fury, but..."
"I'm okay, Peter. I've gotten worse than this," you said softly, and it was partially true, anyways. A year before he first joined the team, and a year before you'd also officially joined the team, you were a highly-talented SHIELD agent with level 9 clearance at the young age of twelve, often being sent out on missions along with the Avengers and fighting alongside them as well. Pain was something you'd learned to get used to over the years.
"Worse?"
"Yeah, I've gotten worse," you repeated, stretching out your arms and looking up at the sky for a brief moment. "Pain, it's a weird thing. It hurts in the beginning, but then you get used to it after a while, you know?"
"Yeah, I get that," he agreed and without thinking, you let yourself rest your head on his shoulder as he spoke. "When you've been shot by a bullet or stabbed in the stomach you can't really complain about any injuries that follow after the event, because it's likely that close to none of them will be able to compare to it, anyways. Well...unless you're shot or stabbed again, but still."
He wrapped an arm around your torso to pull you closer into his side, and you let your head rest against his chest as the two of you stared up at the sky together.
"Peter?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For always being here for me," you mumbled sleepily, voice slightly muffled by the fabric of his shirt. "You're the best."
"No problem," he chuckled lightly as he watched you slowly grow tired.
"Love you, spider-boy."
He didn't make any efforts to correct you, only smiling like an idiot instead.
"I love you too."
HAHAHAH HOW ABOUT THAT CLICHE ENDING BECAUSE I AM A HORRIBLE WRITER AND I SUCK AT EVERYTHING ASDLKAJDLKJADF