Peter Maximoff & Michael Guerin
Two women in a row had led Peter to believe he'd be meeting girls for the rest of the night. He wished he'd kept his goggles on his face as his eyes followed the guy's curly hair and he knew it was obvious he was staring. Like an idiot.
Squeezing the offered hand with a precision which came from pure adrenaline and anxiety, Peter let go as he dropped into the seat across from Michael, saying, "Peter Maximoff. Quicksilver. You're really pretty. For a guy, I mean. I guess I should say 'handsome'? I'm not really good at talking. Sorry."
Peter clasped his hands together on the table, trying not to fidget any more than he had already. There was only so much awkwardness any one person should be subjected to and if Michael had to watch him move with anxiety as much as he talked? There was zero chance Peter could count on him making it through a full five minutes with him.