Love Bug || Spiderman Fanfiction

eleven || "why is the word fun in funeral?"

"So how come you invited Peter to your dads funeral despite the two of them never meeting?" My Uncle asked me as he stood at the whiskey counter yet again, pouring said whiskey into a glass and walking back to the sofa in the middle of the living room, "Is that what teenagers do now when they've known someone literary four days - invite them to a funeral?"

My Uncle sits down wearing his black suit jacket which was unbuttoned to show his plain white shirt and black tie whilst I sit there besides him messing with the hem of my black dress, my leg bouncing out of built up anxieties and stress overcoming me as my Uncle quizzed me.

"No, not at all," I respond back after a sarcastic laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood, "But I know that when you get upset you're gonna have Steve support you, and I just wanted someone there to support me-"

"I don't get upset," My Uncle responds back as he necks the glass of whiskey he had in his hand in one.

"Yes, because that's why you're knocking back shots of whiskey at half ten on a Friday morning," Steve comments as he too enters the room, fixing cufflinks on his shirt sleeves, the rest of his suit black to fit in with the funeral attire, "And Katie's right Tony - you may not get upset, but you get tipsy and drunk to get rid of the pain, so if I'm helping you limit your amounts so you can remain a responsible Uncle, I'm sure Peter can come to be some moral support."

"I guess," Uncle Tony mumbles as he once again stands up, "I'm just not sure I'm used to the kid being such a huge part of my life all of a sudden-"

"Is 'kid' referring to me or Peter?" I question, a smirk on my face as my Uncle laughs, placing his whiskey glass on the unit and walking towards me, pulling me eventually into a tight, comforting hug, "Because you have a tendency to call us both kids?"

"Peter as the kid, obviously - you know I can always get used to you being around, darling."

Our hug pulls away and I spot Steve smiling at the two of us as he moves to stand by the window and look over the facility's ground outside. He seems to zone out quickly as he stares out, so I walk over to stand by him, "You alright there, Steve?"

"I just don't like funerals, that's all," Steve comments, folding his arms as he continues to stare out.

"I think thats a common feeling between most people confronted with the events of a funeral," I remind Steve as he puts an arm around to give me a side hug, "I still don't get why you're coming though-"

"Well, you may think I'm coming to be moral support for your Uncle like Peter is for you-" I nod as I go to look outside, "But me and your dad were actually quite close, your mother too."

"Really?" I question, looking at him, "I never knew."

Steve smiled, "Yeah, we were close whenever your Uncle was unavailable really. You may not have noticed this, but your Uncle is a workaholic-"

"It's called being productive," My Uncle rolls his eyes from behind us, and I turn to see him leave the room, a smile growing on my face as he tries to defend himself.

"Whatever," Steve mumbled before turning to him, "We used to talk together a lot, me and your dad, mainly whilst your mom was pregnant with you so spent a lot of time in their room sleeping, and your Uncle was busy making whatever upgrades for his suit. Me and your dad would sit there, have a drink or two, and then have a long conversation together. And when you were born, I was suddenly promoted to becoming a childminder."

"You used to babysit me?" I laughed, Steve hitting me lightly on the arm.

"For your information, I was a very good and inexpensive babysitter," Steve informed me, "We used to get along well, heck I think we got on better than you did with your actual Uncle."