Archive of Our Own

Peter is a mess. About everything. Everyone knows that. He's overenergetic and hyperactive, nervous, a wreck, a romantic, a fool– he's a lot of things. A lot of good things and a lot of bad things.

And right now, he's hopelessly crushing on Iron Fist.

And he's completely normal about it! He doesn't freak out whenever Lin's around. Nuh-uh. He doesn't. You're just making things up.

He doesn't adore his smiles or his eyes that glow like sunsets. He doesn't get heart palpitations whenever Lin so much as glances at him, when he touches him briefly, like knocking their shoulders together-

He does not turn the same shade of red as his costume whenever Lin says something slightly suggestive or compliments him or.. you know.

But, anyway, they're just friends. Lin sometimes hangs around at Peter's room and they watch movies, or vice versa. They team up often on missions, meet at the training grounds on the weekends, have lunch together most days.

And Peter would hate to ruin that by confessing his crush to him. The only other time he's dated was with MJ way back when, and we all know how that ended up. Sure, they're still friends, but there's an air of awkwardness.

Peter really doesn't want to hurt yet another person with his stupidity. And yet, he really wants Lin, all the things he can't have while they're just friends.

Lin's birthday is coming up. Peter knows he doesn't have a mission lined up for the day and he fully intends keeping it that way. He's been scrolling Pinterest and TikTok for hours, staring at cute date and gift ideas like he's caught a love bug.

He really wants to ask Lin out, more than usual. The constant concussions he gets on missions must be fucking with his head. He wants to pamper him for the whole day and make him swoon. Woo him. Steal his heart. All that shit. But all that shit comes down to a kind of confidence he does not have, like, at all.

Thankfully he has a couple days to stew his plan and then maybe, hopefully, actually act on it.

Currently, it's only three simple steps:

1. Find Lin Lie
2. Talk to him
3. Ask him out

…He'll have to work on it just a little. Sigh.

He doesn't sleep that night, instead thinking of all the ways to confess to Lin, or if he even should.

~•//❤️💙//•~

It's Thursday, the 31st of March, the day before Lin's birthday and Peter's been sent out on a mission to escort Spider-Zero and fight evil counterparts of people he considers friends. Typical.

Apparently he'd been "obvious in his sulking" to Strange and the man had taken the liberty to draft him onboard.

Not that he would mind, but Lin is on the team. The, admittedly, indirect cause to his sulking, and what is supposed to be a distraction has immediately lost all of its potential effect.

He sits on top of Spider-Zero, legs crossed, anxiously bouncing his leg. It's been quiet for the past minute or two; they'd just taken out the last push of the enemy team.

He can hear Loki and Adam Warlock bicker somewhere behind him, Strange and Groot having a nice (though very one-sided) conversation just ahead.

He's just about to think how he hasn't seen Iron Fist anywhere, when he hears a clunk of metal behind him, and his spider sense is very belatedly informing him of a presence behind him.

He turns to find Lin sitting a little further back on Spider-Zero's back, legs spread and arms comfortably rested on his knees.

"Hey," Peter starts, trying desperately not to stare at the stupidly attractive smirk on the other man's lips. Good thing he has his mask on, he's probably flushed all the way to his shoulders.

"Hey yourself," Lin responds, voice smooth as honey, like always and fuck, Peter is going to melt right there, mid-mission. "I heard there's something on your mind."<

Peter swallows hard, praying to every higher power out there that they get interrupted by another wave of evil doppelgängers.

(They don't.)

"Uh," he replies intelligently, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's nothing, really, I'm just-. It's stupid."

Lin's face crunches a little in what Peter thinks for a second is concern. He tilts his head and Peter swears someone should arrest him – it should be illegal to be so unintentionally attractive.

"Dude, it's clearly bothering you. And if it does, it's not stupid," Lin says, all comforting and gentle.

Peter sighs, ready to draft up a lie to hopefully convince Lin – even though he is notoriously bad at lying – just when he hears a crash and shouting from behind him.

"Four of them, three duelists and a strategist coming up ahead!" Doctor Strange's voice calls. Both of the duelists snap to attention and Peter flashes Lin a quick, halfhearted smile, guilt gnawing at his insides.

"I'll talk to you after the mission, alright?" And with that he's swinging away (not running away, he doesn't do that) before Lin has a chance to respond.

~•//❤️💙//•~

After the brief break amidst their three-hour mission, the fight was pretty much nonstop.

Peter didn't see much of Iron Fist throughout it – the other duelist was likely backlining the enemy team's strategists, while he himself was in the frontlines. He was honestly pretty happy because of it; dodging and weaving was much easier when there wasn't a stupidly hot blur constantly in his peripheral.

They get through mostly unscathed, Peter bruised, battered and exhausted and too prideful to ask Loki or Warlock to heal him again. Their abilities have limits too, he reasons with himself, and his self-healing could take care of a few bruises.

He's eager to weasel away after their mission debrief back at the Baxter Building, before Lin corners him.

Right. He promised he'd talk post-mission. And that's right now.

Lin stops a few feet away from him, as if Peter's a skittish animal that he doesn't want to scare away. Peter can sense the concern rolling off the other man in waves, and it'd be kind of sweet to know he worries for him, if the circumstances were any different.

He watches Lin open his mouth to say something, and promptly cuts him off before he can.

"Can we take this to, uh, my room, or something? I promise I'll talk, I just need to lay down else I collapse right here," Peter asks, not even stalling anymore. Lin must notice that, probably from the way Peter's swaying dangerously on his feet.

With a curt nod, Lin helps him relocate to his room. Peter crashes into his sheets and sighs, the softness of the mattress helping the tension bleed out from his limbs.

The mattress dips next to him, and he rolls to his back to see Lin sitting at the edge of his bed, watching him with a peculiar look in his eyes.

Peter thinks he sees a light dust of pink on the other's cheeks as he peels off his mask, but that can't be right.

"So, 're you going to tell me what's wrong?" Lin asks, brows furrowed and leaning back on his hands. "Or are you going to keep stalling?"

Peter swallows, then groans, and sits up. He hates that even worry looks good on Lin's face, though at the same time he wants to wipe it away and replace it with something else.

"I already told you, it's stupid," he mumbles and winces when Lin gives him a stern look.

He's running through excuses and lies in his head, all worse than the last, desperately trying to find anything to say but the truth.

A warm hand lands on his thigh and snaps him from his thoughts. He's faced with Lin's face, closer than it was before, dark brown eyes staring into his and he short circuits.

"Peter" Lin says, unhelpfully, his serious tone of voice just making everything worse.'

Peter doesn't even realise he's talking until it's too late.

"I have a crush on you," he says, words mashed together into one breath. "And I really, really want to ask you out or do something for your birthday or even just flirt or something but I'm pathetic and you're cool and confident and so far out of my league–"

The words are streaming out of his mouth now, unstoppable, like a dam has been broken. He knows he's oversharing, rambling and he doesn't even really know what he's saying.

Lin looks as shocked as he feels, and then he starts laughing.

Peter freezes, stunned to silence and just watches him laugh, loud and unbidden. It's a beautiful sound, he wants to hear it more, preferably not directed at him, but anyway. He thinks he's staring both in awe and fear.

It takes Lin a moment to calm down, clearly holding back laughter even after stopping, mirth making his pretty eyes crease.

"Pete, I- you have a crush on me?" He asks, voice oh so soft, cheeks dusted red from his laughter– that's all it is, must be.

Peter mumbles a quiet "yeah" and nods, flushed a deep red all the way to his shoulders, mortified. Que the ground swallowing him whole, please.

Lin visibly struggles to school his expression to something that's not laughing at Peter, adjusting his hand on Peter's thigh.

"I've been flirting with you since we met," Lin says, mirth still clear in his voice, but it's so warm, adoring– Peter's going to have a heart attack. "I like you too."

A breath escapes Peter, something like stunned, small "oh". There's a second where they're both silent.

Then, like a switch has been flicked Lin's words connect, like fully connect in his head.

Lin likes him likes him.

A grin blooms on his face, still flushed, and he tackles the other onto his bed.

"You like me," he repeats, like he can't believe it. He shakes his head, trying to ground himself in the moment. "You've been flirting with me– you- oh my God."

Lin grins back at him, that pretty pink on his cheeks that Peter wants to kiss, so he does.

It's only a small brush of his lips, really, but it makes his heart do a somersault in his chest, and Lin stares at him like he hung the stars.

"Do that again? Properly," Lin whispers, hands coming up to hold Peter by his hips.

Peter doesn't need to be told a second time, happily leaning back in to press their lips together.

People say kissing your crush is like fireworks, like puzzle pieces falling into place, like a piece of you has been filled, a piece you didn't know had been missing. Kissing Lin, it's all that and more.

Lin's lips are soft against Peter's slightly chapped ones and he clearly knows what he's doing, prying Peter's lips open with his tongue and tangling it with his.

Peter can hear the soft noises he's making, embarrassingly enough, but Lin only pushes for more and he doesn't really have the headspace to care. He's melting into putty in Lin's hands.

Inevitably he loses time as they make out. He's half aware of his surroundings, most of it's a blur, his main focus on the lips on his and the tongue in his throat.

He's vaguely aware that they switched positions at some point, now with Lin pinning him into the sheets. He doesn't really mind: it's actually really, really hot.

~•//💛💚//•~

After what feels like forever, Lie pulls away.

The sight that meets him is breathtaking: Peter, brown eyes turned honey gold by the sunlight, pink high on his cheeks, lips swollen and his brown hair in disarray, laid out in the white bedsheets.

He can't resist dipping down to place one last kiss to Peter's nose bridge.

"You're so pretty," he hums and delights in the way Peter only flushes more.

"Shut up," the younger murmurs, turning to hide his face in the sheets.

Lie just laughs, brushing a strand of hair from Peter's face, letting his hand linger longer than is necessary.

"How long have you.. you know?" Peter mumbles, voice soft and slightly shy in a way that makes Lie's heart throb.

He hums, tracing shapes onto Peter's exposed hips. He'd never realised his suit wasn't one but two parts.

"It's been.. a while. I liked you even before we met, you know. But back then it was more like I idolised you. It turned into whatever this is somewhere between now and then," he answers, smiling.

Peter's eyes widen in surprise. Lie wants to get lost in them.

"..Me too," he admits, a slight smile on his lips.

Lie smiles back.

Their moment is broken by Peter wincing suddenly, Lie instinctively snapping his hands back.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks, worry evident in his tone.

Peter just shakes his head, pulling up his shirt to reveal an angry purple-red bruise along his chest and side.

Lie chokes on air, 'cause it looks bad. Like someone twice Peter's weight and size stepped right on his ribs.

"The Winter Soldier hits hard," Peter offers in a way of explanation, expression sheepish. Lie traces the edge of the bruise with his fingertips.

"Why didn't you ask anyone to heal it?" Lie hisses, annoyance dripping into his tone. "That looks like it hurts, a lot. And that's what the strategists are there for."

Peter looks even more sheepish, if that's even possible. He casts his eyes away from Lie's face, much to his displeasure. "I didn't wanna bother them. They'll heal overnight anyway, I heal fast."

Lie scoffs and pokes Peter harshly in the chest, carefully avoiding the bruise. The other still winces.

"Get your shirt off. I'm not letting you try sleep like that," he huffs, climbing off of Peter's lap to grab the first-aid kit from the bathroom. He'd heal him with his chi, but he's mostly drained from the mission, having used most of it on himself during it.

When he returns, Peter's sitting up on his bed, suit pieces both on the floor, having swapped them for loose grey sweatpants.

The fact that Lie doesn't stare at his bare abs at all says a lot about serious he is about his not-quite-yet-boyfriend's health.

He works in silence, healing the worst of the bruise with all the chi he has left. He hopes it's enough to take away some pain at least.

He cleans all Peter's wounds with a disinfectant and bandages up whatever he feels necessary. The entire time he can feel Peter's gaze on him, but he pays it no mind in favour of focusing on his task.

When he's done, he takes the first-aid kit back to the bathroom and then lays himself down on Peter's bed next to the man.

"You need to take care of yourself more," he says, tugging the brunette closer by his hips.

Peter doesn't face his gaze, but mumbles an affirmative, which Lie supposes will have to do for now.

They lay in silence for a while. Even Peter, usually restless and unable to stop moving, is calm.

Until he breaks the silence, that is.

"What are we?" Peter asks quietly, as if to not break the moment. He pulls away from Lie a little, if only to be able to look at him properly.

Lie hums and shrugs the best he can. "Whatever you want, Pete."

Peter hums too, and turns to look at Lie's hands still on his hips. One of his lands to cup one of Lie's and he intertwines their fingers.

"Can we be boyfriends, then?"

Lie grins.

"Take me out to dinner first," he teases, pressing a kiss to Peter's knuckles. "Of course," he adds, softer, quieter.

Peter smiles too, bright as the sun. Lie wants to see that smile every day for the rest of his life, but he doesn't say anything, not yet.

"I'll take you tomorrow. For your birthday," Peter mutters, curling into Lie's chest again. "For now, I'm exhausted."

Lie chuckles softly and presses a kiss to his boyfriend's hair.

"Of course," he repeats, even though he can already feel Peter drifting off to sleep. "Good night."

Tomorrow, then.