nostalgiabomb | riverview: ic contact;

[ Gamora leaves him by the door, heading to the kitchen to pull the chilled cups of cocoa from the fridge. She can’t help the soft smile that appears, unbidden, when he asks about the flowers.

Pausing, thoughtful, she sets the travel cups on the counter before glancing over her shoulder at Peter. ]

They’re perfect.

[ And that is more praise than Gamora usually gives anything. ]

[ Muted as the praise might sound to anyone else, Peter knows all too well that that was basically Gamora's version of glowing.

He grins, relief surging through him and making him relax at last. ]

Good.

[ He rubs the back of his neck, searching the kitchen table for the little black box. He doesn't spot it immediately, and he frowns. With the way Gamora had greeted him, and with the way she's positioned now, he hasn't realized that she's currently wearing the rings he had bought her, and he clears his throats nervously. ]

I, um. Kept the receipt. For the other stuff. If you wanted to exchange any of it, so...

[ Gamora is in the process of getting mugs out for them, transferring the drinks, leaving them in the microwave. ]

Why would I need to exchange anything?

[ She starts the microwave, turning to look back at him as she leans against the counter, something perplexed in her expression. She lifts her left hand to inspect the muted green and pink crystal of one of her new rings, rubbing her thumb across the band with that same soft smile. ]

[ He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, scratching at a spot behind his ear. ]

In case you wanna swap them and get new ones, obviously. I mean, I know the ones I got you weren't ex... actly...

[ He trails off when he realizes she's wearing the things, and he stares for a few seconds, dumbfounded. ]

... Oh.

[ #smooth ]

"Oh."

[ She repeats it, amused as she lets her hand drop. ]

You thought I was going to trade them for something else?

[ But these were a gift from Peter, something he'd thoughtfully chosen for her. Gamora can't honestly remember the last time someone had gotten her a gift, not really, and this was carefully selected, something he'd put time and heart into.

She wouldn't trade that for anything. ]

I figured they weren't exactly your, you know, style.

[ Which was true enough. She seemed to favor plain, silver bands – maybe something with a solitaire stone, but not much beyond that.

The ones he had gotten her were far flashier than what she usually wore, and he had figured she'd find them... gaudy, maybe? Tacky? It's not like he really knows how to shop for jewelry, beyond the occasional necklace. So he wouldn't have been entirely surprised if she had left the rings in the gift box and left them to collect dust.

His gaze flits down to her hands again, to the rings he had bought her, and he presses his lips together.

Then, ]

So, um. You... like them?

I wouldn't wear them if I didn't.

[ Maybe she likes them because they come from Peter, more than anything else. She wouldn't have picked them for herself, but now, she can't see any reason not to wear them.

The microwave goes off behind her, and she pulls two steaming cups of hot chocolate down to set on the counter. ]

Just come drink this.

[ Drink this and stop worrying. ]

[ His smile widens, crooked and earnest, but when the microwave goes off, he jumps a little, startled.

The smile he wears after that is crooked, teasing.

Archly, ]

I thought I was ordered to take a shower?

I can tolerate the smell for now.

[ Teasing, at least, as she nods to the mugs before she lifts her own to cradle the warm ceramic in her palms. ]

[ He narrows his eyes at her, seemingly irritated with the comment, but he scoops up the mug, letting the warmth bite into his hands. He had worn his usual gloves through most of the day, but that didn't stop the Quarantine from being cold; being back inside has already done wonders for him, of course, but the hot chocolate helps.

He takes his first sip, sighing with it. Then, as he's surely said a billion times by now, ]

God, I missed this stuff.

Then enjoy it while you can.

[ It's not a bitter comment, but more an acknowledgement of reality: it isn't likely they'll find this drink again when they go home, not unless they return to Earth.

She shifts, moving to settle beside Peter and lean against his arm as she starts sipping from her own mug. ]

[ He leans against her in turn, though he pauses after a second with a quick, ]

Just a sec.

[ He pulls back, placing his mug on the counter. Quickly he shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it over the back of a kitchen chair, and he rolls up the sleeves of his dark red sweater.

Then, after reclaiming his mug, he presses against her again, flashing her a winning smile. ]

Much better.

[ She watches him abandon his jacket, her soft smile warming more when she notices that he’s wearing the sweater she picked for him. She leans up, pressing a light kiss to his cheek before she returns to sipping at her mug. ]

Were you actually that concerned I wouldn’t like the gifts?

[ He lights up with that kiss, and even when she pulls back, he doesn't bother smothering his smile – not even after her question. ]

I was more concerned that I sucked at gift-giving at all.

[ Gamora's eyes stray to the bouquet of flowers, and there's something sweeter in the way she looks at them, admiring the pinks and the consistent trend that's so reminiscent of the flowers on her home planet. That kind of gesture took time – dedication. She's amazed he went to all of that trouble. ]

You have nothing to worry about.

[ That is for certain.

She reaches out, resting a hand on his stomach and the red sweater. ]

You're wearing it.

[ She sounds... pleased. ]

[ He lets out a quiet snort, almost disbelieving, but his free hand rests atop hers at his stomach. ]

Of course I'm wearing it.

It's my favorite shirt.

[ Duh, Gamora.

Never mind that he's had it for, like, a day. But Peter gets attached to things easily, and considering how rarely he ever gets gifts, he's definitely going to be keeping good care of this. ]

I shouldn't wear it to work, though. Too risky.

[ It takes a lot to get a truly unfettered smile from Gamora, but apparently, tease and all, that does it.

His favorite shirt.

And maybe that should sound absurd, since she only just gave it to him, but considering that she never does the gift-giving thing either, it's heartening to know. ]

You do have a habit of running into monsters.

[ And it would be a shame if one of them happened to shred his new sweater. ]

[ Something twists in his chest at the sight of that smile, warm and sweet, and he finds himself returning it in full force. ]

Occupational hazard.

[ And he says it solemnly before taking a sip of hot chocolate from his mug.

He squeezes her hand. ]

I love it, though. [ As if she needed further reassurance. ] Kept me pretty warm throughout the day.

That was the intent.

[ She returns the pressure on his fingers, but apparently she's being much too genuine because she adds, ]

It seemed like you might be at risk of frostbite or otherwise.

[ Terrans and their sensitivity to cold, after all. ]

[ He gets it, of course, which is why when she seems to want to change the subject, Peter lets her. He scoffs in feigned annoyance, nudging her with his hip. ]

Are you ever gonna stop with that?

Are you ever going to develop a tolerance for cold weather?

[ Answering a question with a question, how quaint.

... It's still a fairly accurate answer, though. ]

[ He sighs, exasperated, and nudges her again. ]

I’ve managed just fine so far, thanks. And look.

[ He raises a hand, waggling his fingers at her. ]

I still haven’t lost a single thing to frostbite. So you can stop pretending to worry so much.

You are young by human standards. There's time.

[ See, just because Peter hasn't lost something yet doesn't mean he won't. ]

[ His eyes narrow, lips twisting to one side. ]

I find your lack of faith disturbing.

[ Alas, Peter hasn’t been able to find the Star Wars films in the Quarantine, otherwise Gamora might understand this reference. ]

[ Unfortunately, the reference is lost on Gamora – but the words are out of place enough that she at least recognizes it is one of Peter's references. ]

Just wear the sweater and don't complain about the cold.

[ If only to ease some of that sulking, she leans up to kiss his cheek. ]

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