#ler!steve

The back room at WSQK feels smaller than it should.

A couch is pushed against the wall, its cushions sagging in the middle as if it's supported too many tired people over the years. A stack of boxes leans dangerously to one side. Someone left a lamp on, even though the overhead light works just fine.

Steve closes the door behind them. The noise from the main room fades to a muffled hum.

Dustin doesn’t sit down right away.

He paces once, then stops, gripping his backpack tightly. His hold tightens, then relaxes, then tightens again. Steve watches from a few feet away, unsure if stepping closer would help or make things worse.

Dustin finally speaks in a low, tense voice.

“You just ran in.”

Steve exhales slowly.

“You didn’t even hesitate,” Dustin goes on. “You just went. What if I wasn’t there to hold you back?” The image of the ladder falling replays in his mind.

Dustin's anger has been building. It grows each time Steve seems to act without thinking.

Steve nods once, jaw clenched.

Dustin turns to him, eyes sharp. “Do you ever think about what happens if you get hurt... or worse?”

Steve opens his mouth, then closes it again, sinking onto the couch with a sigh.

“Because it didn’t look like it,” Dustin says angrily. “It looked like you’d already decided it didn’t matter.”

Steve shifts his weight. “That’s not what I was thinking.”

“Were you thinking at all?” Dustin snaps, his throat tight.

Steve hesitates. “I wasn’t.”

That stops Dustin in his tracks.

Steve rubs his hand over his face. “I don't have time to think, I act. I know that's wrong.”

“So you just… don’t care?” Dustin scoffs.

“I didn’t say that.” Steve rolls his eyes unconsciously.

“That’s how it looks,” Dustin retorts. “Like you’re okay being the one who doesn’t make it.”

Steve finally meets his gaze fully. “I’m not okay with it.”

“Then why do you act like you are?” Dustin's voice cracks, his eyes stinging.

Steve doesn’t answer right away. He sinks deeper into the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at the floor.

“…I don't mean it like that,” Steve says softly but firmly.

Dustin’s anger wavers, replaced by something heavier.

“You scare me,” Dustin admits. His voice cracks slightly again. “When you do that.”

Steve nods. “I know.”

“You don’t get to,” Dustin adds. “You don’t get to decide that it’s fine and leave the rest of us-” He cuts himself off, jaw tight, sniffling. "like Eddie." He blurts out, swallowing hard to stifle the scratch in his throat.

Steve looks up at him. “I...” he has nothing to say.

Dustin lets out a short sniffle, eyes red, lip quivering lightly. “Please don't leave me.” he says shakily.

Steve shakes his head, meeting Dustin’s gaze. “I’m not planning on it.”

The words linger between them, the silence stretching a bit too long.

Steve shifts, scooting over slightly, tapping the space beside him- asking Dustin to sit.

Dustin sits down slowly. “You're an asshole...” he mutters, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

Steve swallows. “Fair.”

Not a defense, not an argument.

Just acceptance.

Dustin's shoulders slump as if the fight has gone out of him. For a while, neither speaks. The muffled sound of voices drifts in from the other room.

Dustin’s foot begins to bounce slightly again.

Steve notices.

He glances down, then back up. “You’re doing the thing.”

Dustin frowns, eyes still red but calmer. “What thing?”

Steve gestures to his foot. “That thing. It means you’re thinking too hard.”

“I’m not.”

Steve smirks faintly. “You’re vibrating.”

Dustin glares. “Shut up.” A soft chuckle escapes him as he sniffs and wipes his nose.

Steve chuckles softly.

The tension eases a bit.

Steve leans back against the couch, stretching his arm along the backrest- casual, familiar. “You done yelling at me?”

Dustin huffs. “Don’t push it.”

Steve smiles and nudges his knee lightly with his own. “You okay?”

Dustin shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Steve accepts that, nodding once. He chuckles and gives Dustin’s side a small squeeze, almost subconsciously- like he’s done a hundred times before when Dustin gets wound too tight.

Dustin jerks away instantly. “Steve-”

Steve grins. “Relax.”

“You’re not funny,” Dustin mutters, curling in slightly.

Steve does it again, fingers pressing just enough to make him squirm. “You’ve been tense all week.”

“Stohop-!” Dustin laughs despite himself, shoving at Steve’s arm. “I’m serious!”

“I am too,” Steve replies easily, squeezing again. “This is medical.”

Dustin snorts, laughter spilling out of him as he tries to scoot away. “You’re an ihidiot-”

Steve follows, digging into his ribs now, relentless but gentle. “I know, you've mentioned something like that.”

Dustin curls into the corner of the couch, laughter erupting in breathless bursts. “Steheve!”

Steve laughs quietly, genuinely. “There you go. That’s better.”

“B-better for whoho?” Dustin gasps, squirming sharply.

“Everyone,” Steve says, grinning. “But mostly you.”

Dustin tries to block his hands, half-heartedly now, laughter taking over. “Yohou suhuck!”

Steve eases up just a little, fingers resting at his side. “Yeah, you've told me that a million times.”

Dustin finally catches his breath and leans back against the couch. Steve lets his hand drop, satisfied.

They sit there, shoulders brushing now, neither pulling away.

After a moment, Dustin mutters, “Just… don’t make me say that stuff again.”

Steve nods, softer now. “I won’t.”

Outside, the others are still planning. They’re still worrying, still fighting something bigger than any of them.

it was messed up, you realised, how much this turned you on. how greedy and slutty of you to want not only one, but two boyfriends to fuck your brains out. your skin tingled in anticipation. you tried to tug on your restraints, elbows attempting to clamp down to your sides.

your arms didn’t budge. at all.

“too tight?” steve, ever the sweetheart, asked softly. you shook your head no, shooting him a preemptive, nervous smile. he returned it, sickly sweet and loving, and it made you fall right back in love with his puppy dog eyes.

“okay, are you two done flirting or can we get started now?” jonathan teased, a dimple pulling at his cheeks before steve grabbed his face and smothered him with kisses.

it was hot. the way the two brunettes’ toned arms traced each other, jonathan’s fingers finding steve’s perfectly styled hair and tugging, once, twice as a moan escaped his mouth. desire pooled between your legs.

they broke apart, two pair of brown eyes finding their way up your stretched out body and meeting your gaze. suddenly, you felt so incredibly exposed. again, you tugged on your restraints with no avail.

“are you ready, baby?” jonathan asked teasingly, as he made his way to sit on your ankles.

through your peripheral, the cold, red blinking of the camera made your throbbing clit worsen. you swallowed nervously, nodding, an anticipatory smile tugging at your lips. steve, still perched your hips, began to trace his nails around your body.

the intolerableness of it all drove you mad- almost instantly, a stream of uncontrollable giggles spilled from your mouth, shaking your head in ticklish agony. jonathan, upon hearing this, stroked a finger from the bottom of your foot to your arch, adding one, then all his fingers, gently clawing around your feet.

“fuhuhck!” you groaned, ankles jerking in ticklishness.

“aww, what’s wrong sweetheart?” steve asked mockingly as he crawled his fingers up to your ribs. “are you too ticklish for this?”

“i’m sure she’s not,” jonathan teased. “after all, she asked for this.”

you flushed, arching your back with a squeal when steve scribbled quickly at the back of your ribs, while jonathan was still tracing gentle patterns on your soles. the different sensations sent your head spinning, and you squeezed your eyes shut, squirming fruitlessly on the bed.

“plehehease,” you whined. “i- i cahahan’t.”

“can’t what?” jonathan leaned back to pinch your kneecaps.

“cahahan’t-” you cut yourself off with whimpers when steve pressed sloppy, ticklish kisses over your ears, hands still wandering around your stomach.

“i think we broke her, byers,” steve laughed and jonathan hummed in approval.

“she’s so pretty when she’s tickled out,” jonathan mused as his hands found your thighs, squeezing mercilessly.

you opened your eyes to find that steve had paused, just admiring your euphoric state. hair messy, eyes glossed over with mirth, face a rosy pink. soft giggling exploded out of you when jonathan placed ticklish kisses over the inside of your thighs, as you tried and failed to curl up.

“hey, no fair, i wanna look at her too,” jonathan grumbled. 

steve rolled his eyes, turning to squeeze jonathan’s sides. he screeched. nevertheless, they swapped positions, jonathan now flitting his gaze over your exposed upper body eagerly, mapping out a plan of attack. you could feel steve practically glowing at the sight of your ticklish feet.

jonathan turned, whispering something incoherent to steve and before you could question it, you felt it- two pairs of large hands squeezing and scribbling everywhere, drilling into your hips, swiping along your legs, methodical and cruel.

“fuhuck yohu!” you squealed before pulling desperately at your restraints, bending your knees, anything to escape.

they both laughed mockingly, a mixed, low sound that sent heat to your cheeks.

“you’re too ticklish for your own good, doll,” jonathan tutted, eyes laced with fondness.

“so are you, byers,” steve snorted and you laughed in earnest.

jonathan widened his eyes in mock disbelief. “i think you’re forgetting what kind of predicament you’re in right now.”

“noho-” you sniffed hysterically when jonathan renewed his efforts- you didn’t realise he was holding back, but now that steve was scribbling frantically at your soles and jonathan’s hand was darting up and down your sides with precision, you realise how fucked you were.

they finally let you go when they got tired. and that took a long while, for them to draw out enough pretty, pathetic sounds from their baby girl. they clambered off of you, steve carrying you out to the couch and handing you a glass of water, jonathan removing his tape and playing it on the tv.

you sat between them, flustered to high heaven as steve and jonathan analysed the video with teasing remarks.

“hey, that spot got her howling.”

“aww, she looks so pretty here.”

occasionally, they would get bored of the muffled laughter from the cheap tv, their eyes meeting and hands suddenly on your torso in sync, while surprised giggles burst out of you.

you were keeping the tape, though.

Steve hops in his car, turns on the engine, and backs out of his garage.

Another call from the Hendersons is what's leading him to their house now at 12:23 in the morning, with a pillow and blanket in his passenger's seat. Ever since Eddie died, Dustin had nightmares. Intense nightmares. Talking, like, panic attack inducing for the boy. This is not the first time that Steve will spend the night at the Henderson's house, nor the first time that he will drive in the middle of the night to comfort his best friend. And it seems it'll never be the last.

Pulling up to the Henderson doorstep, he grabs his stuff out of the front and walks up to the door.

"Hey, Mrs. Henderson," Steve said once the door opened, leaning against the frame.

"Oh, good evening, Steve." Claudia Henderson opens the door, rubbing her eyes. She's wearing a pink robe, and her hair is a mess. Steve hears from inside, a rushed and relieved: "Is Steve here?"

"Come in; Dustin's on the couch."

Steve walks in, and immediately Dustin runs up and gives him a big hug. He nearly topples over with the blanket and pillow that he has in his arms.

"Jesus- okay, hey, Henderson."

"Hey." Dustin mumbled into Steve's chest. Steve shoots Claudia a small smile. "You can go back to bed, I've got him." Steve said, dropping the blanket and pillow to wrap his own arms around Dustin. She smiles and heads back to her room, gently shutting the door.

The two stand in front of the door in a tight embrace for one more moment, until Dustin lets go. Steve picks up the pillow and blanket and follows Dustin over to the couch.

"The couch folds out, if you wanna... set it up. We can watch T.V. or something, we just have to keep the volume down low. Anything before I try to go back to sleep,"

"Yeah, sure."

The two set up the couch bed together, Dustin grabs his own pillow and blanket from his bedroom and they settle down, Steve flicking on the T.V.

"What do you wanna watch, little man?"

"Anything. Whatever you want, is fine."

Steve nods, flicks through channels, and eventually settles on a dumb teen romantic-comedy. Something to distract the both of them, perhaps. The two started on opposite sides of the bed, with decent space between them, but Dustin got closer and closer to Steve as he grew more tired. Steve didn't mind. Eventually, Dustin falls asleep on his shoulder. Steve flicks off the T.V. and closes his eyes as well.

From atop the Squawk Radio Tower, the booming thunder of the upside down is all the same. It rings across the underworld city of Hawkins, and it makes Dustin's ears ache. They stare up at the sky, and watch in fear as The Abyss descends.

"No, no, no, guys... It's not lining up.""Hey, Chief, we're gonna need El to stop this planet! On the sooner side, please!"

"How soon?"

"30 seconds?" 

Thirty seconds seems like thirty days.

And the planet makes contact with the Radio Tower.

Shuffle.

It crashes down, the tower bending and crumbling.

"Watch out!" Steve cried.

Pushing others out of the way to save them. Playing the hero.

"Steve!" 

Dustin would scream, as Steve lost his balance. Slipping off and hanging off the side of the tower, holding on by one hand.

Dustin would rush over to grab his hand and pull him up,

But he was too late.

Steve slips. Screaming, as he falls from five hundred feet in the air.

Dustin doesn't think, he just jumps after him.

In a cold sweat, Dustin wakes up and sits up in the bed with a small yelp. In turn, waking up Steve.

"Dustin? Dustin, are you okay?" 

Steve's words sound underwater as Dustin looks shakily at his hands, then up at Steve. His cheeks are now dripping with tears and his forehead is slick with sweat. He hugs Steve almost instantly, sobbing into his chest.

"Hey, hey... I'm here. You're okay." Steve assures, wrapping his arms tightly around Dustin. Dustin wept into Steve's thin T-shirt, sniffling and hyperventilating. Not the first time. Never the last. God, Steve can only imagine how terrible his nightmares are. 

"Please, promise me. Promise me you won't leave me, Steve, please. I can't lose you too. Please, Steve..."

"I won't leave you, buddy. Never. I promise, Henderson. You won't lose me."

The two sit in a tight embrace for God knows how long. Dustin's head rests on Steve's chest. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. He places his hand on his own chest. Thumping like a drum. He takes a slow, deep breath in and out. Steve's heartbeat is what he focuses on. He's okay. They're okay. 

"You alright, bud?" Steve whispers, and Dustin shakily nods, looking up at Steve with soft eyes. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't wanna. I get it. I'm here with you, though." Steve offers, rubbing Dustin's back soothingly. Dustin nods.

The two cuddled next to each other. Steve held the boy close, making sure he was comfortable. Felt safe.

"We were on the Squawk Radio Tower," Dustin whispered. "You fell off, and... Nobody was quick enough. You slipped off, and I ended up following you down and... Then I woke up." Dustin explained.

"You fell off after me?" Steve asked. "Please don't ever do that in real life." 

"If you die, I die."

"That was only our agreement when it came to fighting Vecna. Now, it's never. You understand?" Steve said. It came off as more of lighthearted banter. "But, really, I don't need you sacrificing yourself." 

"Yeah, I get it, mom." Dustin joked through a sniffle. Steve scoffed, pulling the boy in closer.

Dustin looks down, picking at his nails. He rested his head on Steve's chest. Listening closely to his heartbeat. The two sat in silence for a moment. "You still alive?" Dustin asked softly. Steve chuckled. 

"Here, let me prove to you that I'm still here."

Dustin lets out a choked squeal as Steve's fingers dig into his sides. "StEve! No!" He giggles softly, covering his mouth. 

"What? I'm just showing you that I'm alive, Henderson. I'm not going anywhere." Steve spoke, but he couldn't help but smile and softly laugh through his words as Dustin squirmed with each prod.

Steve switched to scribbling, fingers gently dancing up and down Dustin's sides, the boy's squeaky laugh quieter than it usually would be as he covers his mouth to block the sound a bit. "Steve my mama is sleeping- please!" He arches his back as Steve traces down his spine, fingers wiggling in between his shoulder blades. 

"Then be quiet, Henderson. Jeez. Can't be that hard?" Steve smirked, as Dustin bared his teeth at him playfully, but also not wanting to wake up his mom again, Steve switched to lightly trailing his fingers over the younger's sides. The giggles came out all the same as Dustin melted into Steve, resting his head on his chest. The giggles came out deeper than usual, more relaxed. Calm. Safe.

"Steve..." he whispered, scrunching at Steve's fingers now fluttered over the back of his neck. "It tickles!"

"Yeah? Almost like that's the point, buddy," Steve teased lightly, squeezing the back of Dustin's neck, earning a tiny squeal.

"Okay- quit it!" Dustin giggled out, grabbing Steve's wrist where it was behind his head and pulled his arm infront of him, wrapping it around himself. He cracked his neck and scrunched again to get rid of the ghost tingles, before whispering out, "thank you. I needed that..."

Dustin yawns, and almost immediately his eyes close. Steve smiles softly. "You're welcome, Henderson."

Ned brushed off his help, but continued shoving things away. “Aww thanks Peter.” He picked up a notebook paper that had floated down to the floor somehow. “You'd make such a good girlfriend,” he said, then frozen with the paper still between his fingers.

Peter gently pried it from his hands, sliding it into his backpack, sensing that all of the tests were starting to get to him. “Was that what you meant to say?”

Ned finally dethawed, going back to the task at hand. “We’re not acknowledging it.”

Peter chortled, fighting back a comment about the blush on his face. “Yes we are.”

Ned pointed a finger at him. “Not if you still want your christmas present.”

Peter mimicked zipping his lips, not wanting to risk losing his gift. He didn’t have to use his spidey senses to guess what it was. Ned had been dropping quote unquote hints to him about his present all week, and Peter had figured out it was legos by Wednesday.

He filed the last of Ned’s papers away, which was less of putting papers in folders, and mostly a lot of shoving. Peter didn’t even know how he managed to collect this many papers in the first place.

“You aren’t going to be able to find any of your papers when we come back from break,” Peter remarked, picking up a broken folder that was nearly split in half with all the papers inside of it.

Ned shrugged. “I’ll just throw out anything I don’t need when January comes.”

“Then get a new folder for the semester so you can break it by summer?” Peter asked, fighting back a grin. He knew he was pushing his luck with his christmas gift on the line, but Peter had a gift for him as well, and he wasn’t afraid to bargain his way back into Ned’s good graces.

“Exactly,” Ned nodded. “See, I’m glad you get it.”

Peter rolled his eyes.

“By Mr. Smith!” Peter called, waving to his teacher as they walked out the door.

“Bye boys, stay safe over break. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He said, closing the door on them on their way out.

The hallways were a mess of hustle and bustle, everyone eager to escape the building as fast as possible. With the thought of finals erased from their minds, and their warm beds waiting for them at home to catch up on some overdue sleep, no one was wasting another minute in that dreadful building.

Peter tapped the top of the frame as Ned and him pushed through the doors, letting the cold New York winter air blow into the hallways, sending Christmas lights fluttering in the breeze.

“My gift?” Peter asked, once they were outside and away from the entrance.

“I want mine first,” Ned said.

Peter cocked his head at him, a coy smile playing at his lips. “How’d you know I bought you one?”

Ned deadpanned. “Oh come on Peter, we do the same thing every year. We give each other gifts on the last day of school before break.”

Peter dropped the act. “Fine.”

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small box covered messily in red candy cane wrapping. As he handed it to Ned he realized he’d missed a spot, and he hoped he didn’t notice.

Luckily, Ned tore it open as fast as he always did, barely noticing the wrapping before he immediately threw it away.

“Do you know what it is?” Peter asked, as Ned continued staring at it without saying anything.

Ned’s brows furrowed. “I don’t think so.”

Peter tapped on the clear box. “It’s a Palladium core I encased in resin.”

Ned’s eyes went wide. “No, it’s not-” he trailed off, but Peter nodded.

“Look at the front of it.”

Ned flipped it around and gasped, holding a hand to his mouth. “You got it signed by him?”

Peter smiled. “Yup. This is one of the ones that was inside him,” Peter stopped, holding up a finger. “Wait, not like that.”

Ned grabbed him by the shoulders. “Who cares! Peter! This is the best gift ever!”

Peter grinned even wider as his friend shook him rather aggressively, the zippers on his backpack clanging with the movement. It really hadn’t been that difficult to come by, Tony had just had to replace his, and when Peter asked about it, Tony had happily complied.

He thought it was a little weird at first, but he had just said, “kids these days” then scoffed and walked off, leaving Peter with the core.

Ned stopped shaking him, a frown overtaking his face. “Aww, but all I got you was legos.”

Peter’s face lit up at the mention. “No, are you kidding me? I’m about to get a bunch of sciency stuff from the avengers, all I want are some legos.”

“Alright, fine,” Ned groaned, handing him a bright gift bag.

Peter took it and ripped all of the tissue paper out of the bag. “Yes!” he cheered. “All I needed was the hulk to complete my set.”

Ned raised a brow. “Do the avengers ever find it weird that you collect lego figurines of them?”

Peter felt his cheeks warm. “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never told them.”

“Heard,” Ned nodded.

“Alright, see you in a few days?” Ned asked, bumping his fist against his.

Peter finished the handshake. “Yep, I’ll see you then.”

Usually the two would walk home on the last day, but this year was different. As the snow began to lightly fall over the city, Peter was headed towards the avengers tower for a few days.

Aunt May had won some sort of radio contest back in November to go on a Christmas cruise for five days. She was overjoyed, until she found out she had only been given a ticket for one person. The last thing she wanted to do was leave him alone for Christmas, stating that she would rather work double shifts at the community center for two weeks than ever even think about leaving him by himself in New York. Peter was grateful she didn’t know about his nightly patrols, fearful that she might very well have a heart attack, but he needed to come up with some way to convince her to go anyway. Peter knew she needed a break, but after almost a month of trying to reassure her he’d be fine, even he was starting to run out of ways to convince her.

Peter was ranting about it to Tony one day in the lab, and he’d offered him up a solution on a silver platter.

Apparently, as long as he was staying with the Earth’s mightiest heroes, May was willing to let him stay in New York without her. He’d still had to assure her a dozen times that he would be fine with her leaving him on christmas, but they’d managed to pull it off. Just before school that day, she’d left for the airport with her bags. She’d placed a kiss on his cheek, told him to have fun, and to text lots of pictures. She added on as she stood in the doorframe, that she wanted him to be good for Tony. Peter fought the urge to laugh, considering it would be more fitting if she told Tony to behave himself.

He’d heard rumors of Tony Stark’s infamous Christmas parties, and had been fighting the urge to ask him if he’d be invited for the last week.

The walk passed by faster than it usually did, his mind buzzing with thoughts of what he could get up to for the next five days. As he approached the tower, he looked up at the full height of it. The A was already accumulating a fair amount of snow on top of it as the gray skies above it seemed to swirl around the building.

Peter heaved in a breath before he rang the doorbell. There would be more heroes in the tower than he was used to for the next few days. Tony was inviting all kinds of people from all corners of the universe for the week. He’d already met so many of his heroes, and now he had the potential to interact with even more.He’d tried to tease it out of Tony, but he’d only held a finger to his lips and told him he’d find out eventually. However, here Peter was, and the day was finally here.

At last, he gathered up the courage to actually ring the bell, and he listened intently to the sound echoing through the first few levels of the tower.

It was always a mystery who would open the door for him at the Avengers tower. More often than not, it was Happy or Pepper, but occasionally he would get one of the other’s.

Today, he was surprised to be met with no one. The door unlocked on its own, and it just swung open, seemingly on a stray breeze. Peter walked in cautiously, his footsteps light, but nothing seemed glaringly wrong except for the mysterious door. He quietly hung his bag on the hanger Tony had drilled into the wall, and began tip toeing into the living room.

He turned the corner, peeking out from behind the door frame when he spotted Wanda, and another woman he didn’t recognize.

“Oh, hi Peter!” Wanda called. “The other’s are upstairs in various places.”

“Oh, thanks for letting me in,” he said, staying a distance away from them. They seemed to be in the middle of something before he walked in, the other person on the couch blushing furiously.

Wanda stood, placing her glass of wine on the table beside her. “Oh, I almost forgot, Spider-man this is Tele, Tele this Spider-man.” Wanda turned back to Tele. “Or I guess I should specify, this is our world's Spider-man. God, that’s going to get difficult when everyone gets here.”

At Wanda’s words, Peter’s memory came flooding back to him. “Ohhh, your Peter three’s friend.”

They nodded. “Well it’s nice to officially meet you, but Tony said I should meet him up in the lab when I get here, so I should probably go.”

“Go,” Wanda waved. “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up in the next couple days.”

Peter hoped she was right, he’d been wondering if she’d be in the tower just yet. He had heard she’d been sent on a mission with Tele, Peter three, and Natasha, and he had a lot of questions for her. The occupants of the tower didn’t always notice it, but they had a tendency of telling him things he shouldn’t necessarily know. Not that Peter was complaining, but it was funny how all of their spy training and stoic personalities all softened when they were comfortable around each other.

Peter stepped into one of the elevators and pressed the twelfth floor. It smoothly rode up the line to his floor and when the doors opened, his eyes widened at the winter wonderland in front of him.

It was like he was stepping into santa’s workshop. The billionaire had strung up garland anywhere he could without making it a fire hazard, and there were so many fairy lights strung from the ceiling that the brightness replaced the glow of the regular lab lights.

Peter walked around, taking it all in.

Stockings hung from each large piece of equipment, their names listed on each of them in glitter glue that looked like Morgan had helped. The green and red iron man suit was on display in the middle of the lab, and each of the center poles in the room were wrapped to look like candy canes.

“You like it?” Tony called from the back, his voice echoing a little with all the metal in the room.

Peter spun around, trying to observe all of it in as big of a quantity as he could. “LIke it? I think Santa Claus threw up in here.”

“That better be a compliment Parker, you know I’m not afraid to flip you to the naughty list and take away your presents.” Peter laughed, hearing the teasing in his tone. It was always a challenge when he arrived in the lab to find Tony. Some days he thought the man was purposely making a game of it, but today he found him behind a few monitors with ease.

Peter looked at the screen, leaning over Tony’s desk to look at what he’d been working on. “Funny, you’re not the first person to tell me that today.”

“Well, maybe that means you deserve it,” Tony said, tweaking his ribs.

“Hey!” Peter squeaked, puberty immediately leaving his voice.

“Hey is for horses, what’s it doing in your mouth?” Tony remarked without taking his eyes off of the monitor. Peter backed up, making sure to keep his arms close to his sides.

“What’d you call me up for? What are we working on today?” he asked eagerly.

Tony spun around towards him, looking up at him. “You, my sticky friend, are not working on anything for the next five days.”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter groaned. He could work on so many upgrades with all the time he was going to have in the tower. With no school, and no Aunt May, he had nothing stopping him.

Tony held his hands up. “No, I don’t want to hear a whining. I signed on to house a sixteen year old for a few days, not a five year old.”

Peter wanted to say that he was not acting like a five year old, but he feared that would only prove Tony’s point. However, he had never had such an ideal time to work, and he couldn’t give up on the idea that easily. “But I have so many new ideas for my suit.”

“Nope,” Tony said, dramatically popping the ‘p’. “You, my friend, are going to take a few days off, and so am I. There are people being put in place to keep an eye here on earth, and none of those people are you and me.”

“What was the point in decorating the lab then?” Peter asked.

Tony looked at him like the answer to his question was quite obvious, and Peter was reminded of how truly dramatic his mentor was.

Tony patted his back, getting to his feet. “Consider it me paying you back for that time I let you go to space.”

Peter furrowed his brows. “But you didn’t let me? I went without asking.”

Tony slowly turned to him. He stared at Peter for a moment before he started rapidly jabbing his hands into Peter’s midsection wherever he could manage. “Is this really a point you’d like to be arguing five days before Christmas, Parker?”

Peter boyishly giggled as he jumped out of the way. He should’ve known better than to nitpick Tony when he was telling a story. “Noho!”

Tony only followed the teenager, wrapping an arm around him and fluttering his fingers on his neck. “Are you sure?” he teased.

“Yes,” Peter laughed. He lightly pushed him away, taking care to not use too much of his strength considering Tony didn’t even have a suit on.

“Alright, spiderling, I believe you for now. So, are we clear about the rules with lab time?”

Peter couldn’t hide his disappointment, but he shook his head in agreement. “Yes, Mr. Stark.”

“Okay, just a couple other ground rules, and then I’ll let you go.” He clapped his hands together. “We just discussed number one, so you already know no lab time for the next five days, I want you to have some time off. Rule number two, no patrols either, it goes under the time off clause.” Peter groaned, but Tony continued on.

“Rule number three, you have to help Morgan, Pepper, and I wrap gifts because I bought too many gifts for everyone. Rule number four, you need to send your Aunt May an update at least once a day-” Peter started to protest, but Tony held a hand up.

“Ah-ah those are the rules I agreed to for taking you on. If you don’t follow them your Aunt will have my head and yours.”

Peter held his hands up. “I was gonna say that it shouldn’t be a problem because I've already texted her twice today, but okay.”

“Sure you were,” Tony chortled.

“I was!” Peter scoffed.

Tony pushed his reading glasses up on his head. “Well aren’t you nyc’s little golden boy.”

Peter paused, uncertain what to do with the comment. Luckily, Tony moved on from most things pretty quickly.

“Okay, rule number 5, no more calling me Mr. Stark. You are quite literally spending Christmas with me, don’t make it weird. Number six, no shenanigans?”

Peter cocked a brow, and Tony shrugged. “What qualifies as a shenanigan?”

He pointed a finger at him. “Don’t play dumb with me kid.”

Peter gawked at him. “I’m not, what does that mean?”

“Well I don’t want to give you an example, that’ll just give you ideas.”

Peter threw his hands up, and Tony’s facade cracked a little, no longer able to bite down on his smile. “I’m messing with you web slinger, you know I support mischief.”

He pointed a finger at Peter. “Just don’t tell Loki I said that.”

“You have my word, Mr. Stark.”

Tony glared at him and Peter took a preemptive step back. “Sorry, Tony. It’ll take a little getting used to.”

Tony began walking out of the lab, and Peter followed. When Tony came to a sudden stop, so did Peter. “Oh, also, you can come to the Christmas party, but you can’t drink.”

“Oh, come on,” Peter protested.

Tony sighed. “Alright, fine, you can have a singular drink.” Peter began uttering his thanks, and telling him about how responsible he will be, but Tony shushed him. “We’ll pretend we’re in Europe to ease my conscience. You have to promise me you won’t tell your aunt though.”

“I promise,” he agreed, eyes shining. He honestly hadn’t expected to be invited to the christmas party, let alone allowed to drink, and he wouldn’t do anything to make Tony regret it.

“Alright, good,” Tony patted him on the back. “Now be a proper teenager and go bother people or hide in your room, your pick.”

Peter laughed good naturedly, knowing Tony didn’t truly mean it. Or at least, he was fairly sure.

Tony snapped his fingers. “Oh, also if you could bother resident broody and the star spangled banner, that would be the best present you could give me. Truly priceless.”

Peter smiled, heading up the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. “I think I can manage that.”

Tony gave him a thumbs up and they went their separate ways. Peter was surprised he hadn’t received a lecture on gift giving, specifically, on how he should have a lack of it. Last year he had gotten Tony a singular gift for the holidays, just a simple frame of the photo of the two of them, and Tony had given him a gift for ten weeks straight to prove a point. Apparently, billionaires didn’t appreciate teenagers with limited funds using their money on them.

Peter unlocked the door to his room, and jumped on top of his soft duvet. His body went limp, the mattress soaking up every bit of his exhaustion. He sighed contentedly, his eyes fluttering shut. He would just lay here for a little bit, and then he would wander around the tower and visit with everyone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter woke up bleary eyed and still in his clothes from the day before. He rolled, trying to find where his clock was, and realized there was no more bed underneath him. His stomach lurched as his hands scrambled for purchase. He grabbed his sheets, which slowed his fall. He sighed in relief, still half delirious. He stayed there for a second, still trying to figure out what had happened when the sheets lost their hold.

He landed with a thunk and groaned in pain. Apparently, his spidey senses weren’t awake either. He wiped at his eyes, trying to make sense of everything.

He looked up at the clock on his nightstand and had to rub his eyes and read it again to make sure he was seeing correctly. Peter had woken up at nine am the next day.

He wrestled himself out of his sheets and threw them back on the bed. He cursed his teenage body mixed with a spider bite for needing so much sleep. He had probably already missed so many new arrivals while he was sleeping.

As he pulled out some clothes from his dresser, he realized there were decorations all over his room too. He must not have noticed it when he’d walked in yesterday, but someone had done up his room as well. Garland hung from each of his furniture pieces like icicles from the edge of a house, his rug had been changed out to a fluffy red and green one, and he even had some festive attire that someone had thrown in with the rest of his regular clothes.

He opted to forgo the red and green in terms of clothing for the time being. He was already likely going to be the youngest in every room, and he didn’t need everyone looking at him like a child because he was wearing an elf onesie. Besides, that would only bring more attention to him while he was trying to learn about all of the new people.

He quickly showered and threw on his clothes, absentmindedly pushed his hair back and headed out the door.

He ran down the steps at full speed towards the kitchen as his stomach growled. He couldn’t believe he’d slept so late, he’d make sure to set an alarm tomorrow. It was so stupid of him to sleep for so long.

A door clicked open in front of him, and he stopped just a few inches from where his nose would’ve collided with it.

“Little spider,” Natasha laughed, seeing him as the door shut. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

She continued walking, so Peter followed. “I accidentally fell asleep yesterday afternoon when I got home from school, and I just woke up.”

“Oh trust me, you didn’t miss much.” Natasha waved a hand. “The only person in the tower who doesn’t live here went to bed early, Steve and Bucky went on our last grocery trip till after the holidays, and Wanda made a few pie crusts.”

“I know, but-” Peter started, then stopped himself. Natasha had said he didn’t miss much, but she had been a part of this family for longer than he had. He had never spent a Christmas with the Avengers before, and it all felt so new and exciting to him. This was all old business to Natasha, she’d probably find him quite silly.

“What?” she asked, slowing down.

Peter stopped at the next landing to face her. “No, it’s probably dumb. Nevermind.”

“I’m sure it’s not dumb, come on, tell me. Or if it is dumb, then I will forget I heard anything.”

Peter’s lips twitched. “It’s just.” He sighed, but then decided he’d go for it anyway. “I’ve never been here during the holidays, and I just don’t want to miss any of it. I want to soak it all up, ya know?”

He scratched at the top of his head, but then abruptly put his hand back down, thinking the movement looked weird.

Natasha leaned against the stair railing. “Peter,” she smiled. “I was once new to this team too. I know the feeling of wanting to soak up every moment with this family. But trust me, they aren’t going anywhere, and neither are you.”

Peter smacked himself in the forehead. It had only occurred to him till after Natasha said it but it seemed obvious now. He should’ve known that she would understand. It was so silly of him to think he was the only one who had ever felt like this. Still, he knew Natasha wouldn’t take well to him opening the holiday with apologizing to her, so he moved on. “I know that, it just doesn’t feel like it.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “And that’s okay too. It took me a long time to get used to it.” She laughed. “Sometimes I think I’m still getting used to it. But remember, this is a marathon, not a sprint. You’re here for five whole days, don’t run yourself ragged trying to do everything.”

Peter blew a breath out, feeling a little less high strung. “Thanks Natasha.”

She squeezed his arm. “Anytime little spider.”

“Does that mean I can call you big spider?” Peter asked, now following her down the stairs.

She shook her head, chuckling. “I guess so. Just don’t ever say it in front of Clint, or I may have to kill you.”

“Noted.” Peter nodded even though she wasn’t looking at him. He wasn’t certain he would ever be brave enough to call her that to her face, but he saved it away just in case he needed it.

He entered the kitchen, counting four bodies occupying the space, and all sorts of delicious smells wafting around the area.

Natasha leaned in beside him, whispering. “Like I said, pace yourself.”

She walked off, continuing down the steps, and leaving Peter in the chaos. He stood completely still for a moment, unsure of what to do. It almost seemed like they were doing some sort of dance. Pots and pans flew above heads, spoons were passed back and forth, footsteps were carefully made around each other like they had choreographed it all in advance. Peter was worried that if he stepped in, he might throw them off rhythm.

His stomach growled angrily, reminding him that while his bite also made him able to sleep longer, it also meant he needed to eat much more.

“Guys, can I cut into the kitchen to get breakfast?” Peter yelled over simmering liquids and frying meats.

Wanda was the first to turn towards him. “Oh, morning Peter. Can I grab something for you?” She looked at the chaos surrounding her with wide eyes. “I think that would be easier at this point.”

“Yes please, if you could hand me the poptarts, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Oh, do try the new chocolate flavored ones we got spiderling,” Thor said, turning around, whisk in hand. “They are quite delicious.”

“Yeah, I’ll have those if we’ve got ‘em.” Peter nodded. “Please,” he added on quickly.

Wanda flicked her fingers, and the pop tart box flew out of the cabinet. Peter was about to ask how she managed to direct her power so casually without hitting anyone, but then he realized the box was already in his hand.

“Hey, wait, we don’t just hand out food for free,” Bucky scoffed. “I thought we agreed the kitchen was a no touch zone when there were chefs in it.”

“Bucky, you’re making brownies. Calm down, you aren’t cooking up world peace,” Sam called out from the other side of the kitchen.

Bucky pointed a dirty spatula at him with such aggression that Peter let out a laugh. “That’s what you think, but for all you know, the moment you taste these all your problems could be cured.”

“Not unless your attitude disappears,” Sam guffawed.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Wanda, are you going to let this happen?”

Wanda looked about near her breaking point. “If by this you mean letting the boy eat his breakfast, then yes I do.”

Bucky groaned, and Peter couldn’t help but wonder who the teenager in the room was. “Can we at least make him help us?”

Wanda leaned against the counter, her hands on her hips. “Peter, I am currently dealing with actual children, so would you mind helping Bucky with the brownies when you’re done eating your breakfast? Steve was supposed to help him, but now none of us know where he’s got to.”

Peter nodded, shoving a poptart in his mouth. “Of course, I don’t mind helping.”

Wanda smiled fondly at him. “Thank you.” She covered the side of her mouth like it would prevent the others from hearing her as she fake whispered. “This is why you’re my favorite.”

The others protested, but she paid them no mind as she went back to her food. Peter took a few more minutes eating his fill in pop tarts until he joined Bucky in the kitchen. The sounds of automatic whisks, squeezing bottles, and bowls clanking against one another filled his ears.

“Alright, have you ever made brownies before?” Bucky asked, quite seriously.

Peter narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, who hasn’t? They come in a box.”

Bucky rolled his eyes for the second time in five minutes. “Homemade brownies Peter. Come on, who do you think I am?”

Peter held his hands up innocently. “Wasn’t trying to take away your brownie points.”

Bucky raised a brow. “Was that a pun?”

Peter tensed. “Maybe?”

He could tell Bucky was desperately trying to bite back a smile, and Peter snickered. “Alright, well, homemade brownies are a much more highly involved process.”

“Okay, so what do we need?” Peter asked, pushing his sleeves up to wash his hands.

Bucky listed off the ingredients and Peter rummaged around the kitchen to find them. However, even after five minutes of looking in the fridge, Peter couldn’t find the eggs.

He poked his head out of the fridge. “Guys, I think we’re out of eggs.”

He looked over to see Thor grimacing. “My apologies, between my breakfast this morning, and clarifying the mead, I think I used the last of them.”

Peter brushed him off, now opening the freezer. “That’s fine, we can just use applesauce.”

“No, we cannot!” Bucky protested. “It calls for eggs.”

Sam leaned around Wanda to look at them. “Barnes, have you never heard of a substitute?”

“No, you have to do the recipe exactly as it says, otherwise it won’t turn out.”

Wanda made cuckoo signs around his head, and Bucky whipped around. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Wanda chirped, going back to whisking. She shot a wink at Peter and it took nearly all of his laughter to not burst out laughing.

Bucky threw his hands up. “What? I’m serious, you should never substitute things. It won’t turn out the same.”

Peter cocked a brow. “Didn’t you grow up during the depression?”

“Are you calling me old?” Bucky asked, his voice lilting.

Peter’s eyes went wide. “No! I mean, wouldn’t it have been common for you to have to substitute things?”

“Yes, which is why it’s not good!” Bucky nearly yelled.

Wanda stirred her soup. “My family had to substitute things all the time, and we were fine.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “And you’re telling me all of them tasted the same?”

Wanda nodded patiently. “Yes, you just have to know what you’re doing.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “Are you saying I don’t know what I’m doing?”

Wanda shrugged. “I mean, you didn’t even know that you should substitute applesauce for eggs. That’s pretty obvious, wouldn’t you agree Peter?”

Peter nodded, knowing better than to be on the opposing team of Wanda, and Tony’s earlier words playing in his mind. Bucky flicked him in the arm. “Ow,” Peter winced.

Wanda continued adding things to her soup as she spoke to Bucky. “It seems to me that this is more of a skill issue.”

Bucky sighed. “Wanda,” he said, his tone warning. Peter kept his eyes on both of them, sensing the rising tension and wondering where it would go.

“What?” she asked innocently, her eyes widened. “I think you might just be bad at baking, it’s alright, not everyone can be good at it.”

“Maximoff, I swear,” he started.

“Barnes, don’t swear in front of the kid!” she gasped, her eyes lighting up with mischief.

“Yeah!” Peter agreed indignantly.

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “He’s sixteen, he curses all the time.”

Wanda propped a hand up on her hip. “Peter, cover your ears, don’t listen to the man with the potty mouth.”

Peter followed her lead, putting his hands up on his head. “Yeah, Bucky, how dare you accuse me of such things!”

Bucky looked done with both of them. “Peter, you say shit about seventy times every time you’re in the lab.”

“How dare you! Peter would never do that!” Wanda said, looking like she was about to burst with how much laughter she was holding back.

“You know what Maximoff?” he said, his lip twitching.

She took a step closer. “What?” she asked, raising her brows. Peter backed up, having the innate sensation that one of them was going to snap and it wasn’t going to go well.

They were both perfectly still for a moment, and then Bucky struck. He grabbed her by the stomach with his metal arm, too quick for her to use her magic against him, and began scratching at her sides.

“Bucky,” she squealed, her legs kicking out at him and continually missing.

Peter did his best to fade into the shadows, suddenly forgetting his alliance. He knew how quickly the tables could turn, and how ruthless Bucky could be. Wanda hit out at his metal arm, her magic getting lost in between her laughter. “Are you going to stop giving me a hard time?” he asked.

“Nohoho,” she giggled, twitching all over the place as his fingers darted across her skin.

“Peter!” Wanda yelped. “Help me!”

Peter hesitated for a moment, but decided it would be in his best interest to keep the scarlet witch on his side.

With a quiet, “thwip!”, he webbed Bucky’s metal arm, pulling it behind his back to give Wanda an escape.

She fell to the floor in a heap of laughter, and Bucky let her go, not bothering to continue torturing her.

Peter was surprised he didn’t put up more of a fight, until he realized Bucky was slowly turning towards him.

“Wait,” Peter said, holding his hands in front of him. He had just poked a sleeping bear.

“Did you just web me?” Bucky asked, watching Peter out of the corner of his eye.

Peter could feel Thor behind him, and Sam watching the whole thing in interest now. All of his senses were suddenly alert, like he was about to go into battle. What all of his systems were currently telling him was that he needed to run, and quickly.

Without answering Bucky’s question, he leapt over the kitchen counter, sprinting towards the steps.

“Oh no you don’t, you pest,” he heard Bucky call after him.

Peter ran full force through the living room, thinking that if he could just make it to the steps and get the door shut behind him, then maybe he could make his escape.

He was a few steps away, just only a few more seconds and he would be free. His hand reached for the door, and he pushed it open. He got a foot in the door when a familiar cold arm wrapped around his middle.

“No!” Peter yelled, grabbing a hold of the door frame. He attempted to pull himself forward, but Bucky merely spidered his fingers in Peter’s armpits and he immediately lost his grip, his arms shooting down to protect himself.

Bucky threw him over his shoulder with an ease that Peter wasn’t used to.

“That’s not fair,” he protested. He tried to wiggle out of Bucky’s arms, but there was no give.

“No, what’s not fair is that you all get to act like little shits, and annoy me without any repercussions,” Bucky said, walking towards the couch.

Peter began to panic, squirming around like a bug caught in a web. He knew the moment that Bucky had him pinned he was done for.

“Bucky! Wait! We promise we won’t bother you anymore!” Peter said as a last ditch effort.

“You promise?” Bucky asked, standing directly over the couch.

“Promise.” Peter said, earnestly.

Bucky paused, beginning to set Peter down. Peter blew out a sigh of relief, then, Bucky reversed his direction and threw Peter forward onto the couch. “Too bad, I want my fun now.”

He jumped on top of him, pinning his arms above his head, and sitting on his thighs.

“Bucky, Bucky, wait!”” Peter called, nervous giggles already leaking out of him.

“Wait for what?” Bucky asked, his metal arm hovering over Peter’s stomach.

“Wanda, hELP!” Peter squealed, but was cut off as Bucky’s hand began fluttering everywhere he could reach.

“Just because you can’t bake, doesn’t mean you need to take it out on the rest of us!” Peter giggled.

“You know, I was going to take it easy on you since you just finished finals, but nevermind,” Bucky huffed. He began squeezing Peter’s ribs, softly brushing his thumb into each one.

“I take it back!” Peter wheezed, descending into frenzied cackles. It was a cruel move, targeting his ribs like that. It always sent Peter reeling, his body not knowing what to do with all of the sensations his skin was taking in, and Bucky was especially good at making him shriek.

“Oh, do you now?” Bucky teased, a terrifying smirk on his face.

“Yes!” Peter tugged at his arms in vain. It was no use, with Bucky at his full strength, and Peter weakened by his laughter, he couldn’t overpower him very easily. Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

“Wanda save me!” he yelled, deciding it was in his best interest to rely on someone else’s power.

Peter faintly heard the sound of a door clicking open and prayed it was Tony. He also had a tendency of tickling him, but at least maybe he would accidentally distract Bucky long enough that he could escape.

To his horror though, the worst possible person had shown up. “What’d he do this time, Buck?” Steve asked, sounding unsurprised.

“Be a little shit like usual,” Bucky shrugged.

Steve came out of his peripheral vision, and walked in front of him, briefly wiggling his fingers over his socked feet. “STEVE!” Peter yelled, kicking out as much as he could with Bucky’s weight on his legs.

“Wow, I always forget how ticklish you are,” Steve tutted, removing his hand.

“Not helping!”

Bucky tasered his sides with his fingers. “He’s not trying to, he’s on my side unlike you other assholes.”

“Wanda!” Peter tried again, sensing the team up that was about to happen.

Bucky looked up at Steve, not stopping his attack on Peter while he did. “Oh yeah, Steve, would you mind going to deal with the red head over there?”

“What did she do?” Steve asked as if there wasn’t a teenager dying of laughter right beside them.

Bucky gestured down towards him, and Peter’s face lit up red. Something about being destroyed by laughter while they held a casual conversation made the sensations so much worse. “Same as Peter.”

Steve nodded. “Ah, I see.” He began walking towards her, and though Peter knew it would only further nail his coffin shut, he yelled over at her.

“Wanda save yourself!”

Bucky cocked his head, momentarily pausing. “You really don’t give up do you?”

Peter shook his head. “Friendly neighborhood spiderman.” He smiled sheepishly.

Bucky positioned his hands atop Peter’s ribs. “Well spiderman, you are far too ticklish to be this risky.”

Peter shrugged, his eyes alight with mirth. “At least I can bake.”

Bucky deadpanned, his fingers wrapping around the backs of Peter’s ribcage. “Okay, now you’re just asking for it.”

Bucky attacked, and Peter immediately fell back into his laughter. Loud cackles burst from his mouth as Bucky squeezed higher up on his ribs.

“Peter, oh my god, stay still, I’m trying to count all of your ribs.”

“Nohoh!” Peter squealed, having played this game with Tony too many times.

“Well now we’re going to have to start all over again,” Bucky huffed, squeezing each rib from the bottom to the top. Peter was going berserk, having one of his worst spots targeted for so long. He briefly opened his eyes and saw Wanda being thrown on the couch next to him. Steve didn’t give her a chance to escape and went straight for her neck.

He screeched as Bucky reached the tops of his ribs again, praying he wouldn’t start the process all over again. However, it was only when he felt Bucky’s fingers climbing higher still that he began to panic.

“Bucky, don’t you dare!”

Bucky paused for a moment, and Peter heaved in deep breaths while he was still able to. “Oh.” Bucky leaned in, smirking in a way that Peter knew that no amount of pleading would convince him to move anywhere else.

“I dare,” he hissed, then jammed his fingers into Peter’s armpits. Peter didn’t make any noise for a moment. He dug his heels into the couch, trying to find the leverage to throw Bucky off of him, he twisted around from side to side, trying to dislodge Bucky’s fingers. He would almost get adjusted to one side, then Bucky would start tickling his other armpit. However, his body was only able to contain the noise so long, and he burst into a scream.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Peter panickedly squeaked.

Bucky turned towards the other couch. “See, Wanda? I told you he curses.”

Peter could just barely hear her screams of laughter above his own, but he could’ve sworn she told him to shut up.

“Now,” Bucky said, turning his attention back to him. “If we can just manage to convince you I can bake.”

Peter was writhing on the couch, his laughter beginning to make his abdomen hurt. Though, he was admittedly not fighting as hard as he could. “You can’t though!” he yelled out.

“Okay, seriously, does anything tire you out?” Bucky said, momentarily pausing his hands.

Peter shook his head, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. “You’re maybe the only person I know who’s as stubborn as that guy back there,” Bucky teased, pointing to Steve, who was currently making light work of Wanda’s giggles.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Peter smiled, heaving in air.

“It is one,” he smiled. He ruffled Peter’s hair gently, which Peter doubted he’d attempt if he wasn’t currently pinned underneath him. “However,” Bucky started, sitting upright. “Just like him, it’ll get you tickled a lot.”

Bucky released his arms, and Peter’s brows furrowed. He started to sit up, but Bucky had yet to get off of him. Without taking his weight off of him, he adjusted himself so he was still sitting on Peter’s legs, except he was facing the other way.

Suddenly, Peter’s face went white. “Wait, Bucky please no.”

“Can I bake, Parker?” he asked, without looking at him.

Peter sighed, laying back down so he could save some of his energy. “No,” he answered plainly.

“That’s what I thought,” Bucky sighed.

Bucky didn’t make Peter wait any longer for his payback and all ten of his fingers began dusting across his socked soles. Peter was sent into immediate hysterics. He gave up trying to plead with him, but he couldn’t stop his body from rolling around the couch as continual giggles poured from his mouth. Every so often he would snort if Bucky got him with a particularly good method, or if he would stray upwards to his toes, but Bucky continued until Peter got all of the laughter out of him.

However, once the tears started to prick at the corners of his eyes, he let up. “Have you learned anything today?” he asked, getting up and sitting next to him. Peter stayed laying down, catching his breath. He noticed that someone must have lit the fire because he could hear something crackling.

“Not much,” he breathed out.

“I figured.” Bucky patted his knee. “But I’m always happy to teach you again.”

Peter jumped up from the couch, nearly taking his shin out on the coffee table, and Bucky laughed. “Not now, I’m not cruel.”

Peter raised his brows. “Okay, I’m not that cruel,” Bucky deadpanned. Peter glared at him, though he knew he didn’t really mean it.

He sat back down next to him. “You deserve payback for that.”

Bucky bumped his shoulder against him. “I don’t think so, I didn’t start it.”

A red light flashed through the living room. “I would beg to disagree.”

Peter and Bucky turned to see Steve on the ground. “Peter, care to join me?” Wanda asked, grinning.

Bucky attempted to run, but all it took was one flick from Wanda’s wrist and he was on the ground.

“Sam help!” Bucky yelled. Sam started running towards him, but abruptly came to a stop.

Wanda held an orb of dark red power in her hand, eyeing him carefully.

He held his hands up, walking backwards towards the kitchen. “No, thank you.” He grabbed a hold of a bowl. “Someone’s gotta keep stirring your soup.”

Wanda smiled, her nose scrunching up.

“Care to humble some super soldiers for the holidays?” Wanda asked. She twisted her magic and Steve burst into bright giggles.

Peter always knew it was best to keep the scarlet witch on his side. “Absolutely,” he agreed.

The tower was filled with laughter for quite some time, and lots of threats were said with no real violence behind them. When all was said and done, Peter was absolutely certain he was in for a very interesting winter break with his family.

Bucky groaned as he woke up, all his muscles burning in pain. He must've blacked out, he didn't even remember what had happened. He tried to stretch.

He was a little confused when he couldn't move his metal arm. He looked over and found it stuck underneath a hydraulic press. He grabs the table with his flesh arm, trying to pull away, using his flesh hand to push for leverage.

"Hey cap!"

He heard a voice call out. He looked up just in time to see Sam and Steve coming into the room. Bucky grabbed the table again, fighting against his pained muscles to pull his head up enough to see them.

"Steve."

But Steve crossed his arms. They couldn't trust him just yet. How did they know this wasn't Winter Soldier Bucky just pretending to be nice so he could escape the hydraulic press and start fighting again?

"I'll have to find out which Bucky I'm talking to."

Oh no, he thought as Steve approached him. Steve wouldn't hurt him. Right? This wasn't a HYDRA officer. This was Captain America. He watched warily as Steve knelt down in front of him.

Steve smiled that stupid, kind smile that always put everyone at ease, and then he grabbed onto Bucky's sides, squeezing.

Bucky gasped, grasping at Steve's wrist with the hand that could move. His metal arm tried to pull in, to protect himself, if out of instinct alone. But it was firmly stuck under the hydraulic press.

"Steve!" He hissed.

"What is it?" Bucky didn't know how to respond to that. He obviously couldn't admit that it tickled. That was well beneath him at this point.

"Steve!" The man just smiled, a little bit apologetically, a little bit evilly.

"Sorry. I have to make sure you're normal you and not Winter Soldier you."

"I am normal m-me!" Steve did that awful thing where he massaged his thumbs in circles, right in the dip of his hips. It felt like electric shocks right to his spine. It was so hard to save face when his body was telling him to smile and laugh and just overall act like a child.

"How can I be so sure?" Steve asked thoughtfully. "I'll need to run some more experiments. I want to be certain." He pressed his fingers deeper, smiling fondly when Bucky doubled forward, sputtering out a laugh.

"Steheheve!" He'd complain, but the man would only chuckle at him. But Steve would soon get bored of his hips. He never did stick to one spot, even when they were younger, even before Bucky got drafted for the army, before everything.

And then moved up his sides, right to his ribs. His worst spot.

"Wait!" Bucky would try to twist away, trying to maneuver himself in a way where he could either get his arm unstuck or at least make it help cover that horrible, dreadful spot that made his nerves light up and put a smile on his face without even trying.

Steve smiled at Bucky's squirming, scritching gently right below where the metal connected on his left ribs and all over his right ribs. "Still a bad spot, hm?"

"God- wahAHAIT! STEHEHEVE!" Bucky tried to curl up, trying to fend him off with his free hand, that was feeling uncharacteristically weak at the moment.

"Aww, look at you." Steve coos. Bucky tries standing up quickly, trying to move away from the sensation. Steve decided Bucky was probably done, and dropped his hands. "Y'know, Sam, I think he's normal Bucky right now."

"He would've probably strangled you if he wasn't." Sam nods.

Bucky slumps down again, barely even realizing that Steve was freeing his metal arm. "Thanks."