The drip in the roof of the trailer is what wakes Steve.
A steady plink! of water meeting wood somewhere above them. It always leaks a little in the trailer after it rains, like a gentle metronome of fat raindrops sneaking inside the cracks. While it used to annoy him, Steve just finds it soothing now.
The curtains Eddie had poorly shut the night before are askew just an inch, letting through a sliver of sunlight. A beam sneaks through, makes the room glow, walls painted golden. Steve revels in it and it’s warmth; lets out a yawn and stretches like a big cat, giving a soft groan as he does.
His elbow knocks into Eddie’s side as he does and Steve feels the familiar rush in his chest, fond affection filling every vein— and he loves it.
He loves that momentarily forgetfulness born from his sleepiness, where he forgets that he gets to wake up with someone by his side. Wake up next to Eddie, no less.
Steve loves it, adores it, because really what it means is he gets to remember it every morning.
He gets to roll closer and poke Eddie gently on the cheek, a small smidge of him just wanting to check if he’s real. If this, this love, is real and his. Eddie lets out a groggy groan, buries his face further in the pillow. Steve grins. Yep, he’s real.
Eddie makes another groggy noise and this time pulls his face out of his pillow slowly. He looks like a disgruntled cat, hair still stuck to his cheek, some small patch of drool left on the pillow. Eddie makes a soft ‘hmph!’ and one hand reaches up, wiping across his face lazily. His eyes peek open.
And as much as Steve loves his own secret moment in the morning, it’s blown out of the water by this every time — the moment Eddie sees him. Brown eyes see him and Eddie just softens. Like butter in the sun. Sinks further into his pillow and smiles, sleepy and wonderful.
Normally, they both let sleep comes and go, drifting across the sheets in half-hearted cuddles that Steve melts for every time. Today, Eddie’s smile grows into a happy grin. Then his hands are stretching out and he’s making small grabby hands across the sheets, urging his boyfriend over.
“C’mere,” he says, hands finding Steve’s side and pulling him, soft. “Gimme.”
Steve grins, heart flip-flopping. Goes without any resistance, shifting to snuggle up to Eddie, tucking up and under his chin as Eddie’s does his best to scoop him up in his arms. It’s warm. Eddie’s pulse is a small comfort to Steve as he rests his head upon Eddie’s chest, hands curled around his middle, thumbing at soft scar tissue. Thump-thump-thump, Eddie’s heart says, and Steve can somehow easily read the love in it; his stomach turns again, in a dizzy elated way.
“Mm, birthday boy,” Eddie hums, but he’s still so sleepy that birthday sounds more like birfday. Steve feels his heart jump in surprise — a moment in which he’s baffled Eddie knows. That Eddie remembers. The last couple birthdays… well, he hadn’t been friends with Robin til after his birthday in ‘85 and then, well, with everything in ‘86… It’s been awhile since someone has remembered is all.
He doesn’t mean to sound as surprised he does when he murmurs, “You remembered?”
Eddie hums again, a sweet loving noise. His arms around Steve tighten and Steve feels his heart keen when his lips brush across Steve’s temple. A gentle kiss is pressed there. It feels like everything he needs — this quiet small moment of wonder, a tiny moment of tenderness, just for Steve. He presses his own kiss back, lips against Eddie’s collarbone.
“S’look,” Eddie continues, dragging his arm off Steve to point somewhere on the wall. Steve follows his gaze and then— there it is, on Eddie’s calendar. Circled in red is April 29th. It’s covered in sloppy hearts, so much there’s no room for any word other than ‘Steve!!’ in the middle; his birthday. Marked so Eddie would remember, wouldn’t even dare the chance to forget it.
Eddie drops his arm, returning it to where it was, hooked over Steve’s side so his hand can run soothing soft touches down his back. He sighs again, another sleepy noise, and Steve could probably cry.
“Precious birthday boy, mm,” Eddie mumbles lovingly. “Lovely precious birthday boy,” he warbles on, voice gooey enough that Steve know he means it. Actually thinks that— that he’s precious, and lovely, and everything more. “What d’ya wanna do t’day?”
Steve tightens his cuddle and whispers, “Just this.”
He can feel Eddie’s grin, in response, and then there’s another kiss to his head. Just this. It’s the complete truth.
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realistically, spider-man has probably befriended loads of vigilantes ( maybe even kind of sort of criminals ) while patrolling and he’s probably got thousands of connections without realizing it.
at this point in time he’s been to loads of avengers meetings and debriefs and while it’ll never NOT be cool, he isn’t.. it just isn’t something he looks forward too or stressed about anymore.
so he’s been caught late a few times, stumbling in mumbling apologies and excuses ( tony teases him for it— oh are we not cool enough for you? )
he’s late for a briefing this time, some sort of underground network of bases ( it’s a secret lair, why can’t they just call it a secret lair? ) and peter isn’t really surprised, he’s worked on these sorts of missions before—
“oh, mr captain rogers — deadpool is already working on this one, he invited me yesterday but i was napping and missed the call, don’t tell him that though he’ll get sad.”
and suddenly he’s being questioned by everyone but clint who wasn’t all that surprised ( neither was natasha, but what bussiness did peter have talking to people like deadpool? )
“when the hell did you start talking to deadpool—”
“ he has your NUMBER?—”
“ we’re friends mr stark— what do you mean— i know other— of course i’m friends with other vigila— is anyone listening?? ”
“did you hack karen? why wasn’t i— this should be in the baby monitor—”
“why did he contact you of all people— is he doing this alone? do you know how dangerous—”
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Tony, Bruce, Steve, and Peter are all very sarcastic characters but it’s in exceptionally different ways.
Tony is only child sarcastic. about everything, all the time. he’s like a puppy who desperately wants someone to play fight with him (“In prostitution? of course you’re not, you’re a senator” “My least favorite person on earth, Justin Hammer, Hi!” “I won’t join your super secret boy band”)
Bruce is oldest child funny. He dosnt use sarcasm all the time, carefully picking his moments. His timing and delivery are perfect every single time (“You’ve rented my room” “Only when I’ve built a murder bot” “I see this as an absolute win”)
Steve is middle child funny. He’s mastered the art of the deadpan delivery, and he does not in the slightest mind making a joke before kicking someone’s ass. He’s also got a joke that, in his mind, gets funnier each time he uses it (“On your left” “Before we get started, does anyone want to get out?” “secure the engine room, then find me a date”)
Peter is youngest child funny. He cracks jokes effortlessly, and sometimes it wasn’t intended to be a joke but is received as such. (You have a metal arm?! AWESOME!” “I can’t got to germany… I got homework” “BYE! Mr criminal!”)
Anyways, I think each of them is hilarious and deserves more appreciation
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Marvel headcanons:
- Clint gifts Peter a drum set for birthday just to annoy Tony, Tony just turned the soundproofed walls and.
- Nat has a „emotional support knife“ and every time she’s stressed she stabs random people with it.
- In Peters school was a project called, bring a family heirloom. So he just brought Steve with him, because he was practically given from Howard to Tony and one day he will be given to Peter.
- What if one day when the Rogeus are in Wakanda they all panic because Toby’s jet appears and then Peter gets out, he and Shuri disappear to god knows where. For a week none of the two is be seen and then Peter goes back to Queens, all of the Rogeus just think they hallucinated and neither TChalla or Shuri is willingly to explain it.
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