"Well, most of it just doesn't show up at your door upon request anyway," Peter said dryly. It felt a little cheap, coming off of the last joke but if that was how Steve was going to play it, who was he to argue? "Anyway. I'll figure it out. Interior decoration isn't really something I'm great at," he admitted. "There weren't a lot of blank walls on my ship." And even if there had been, Peter was the sort to just tack any old thing up that he thought was nice to look at. Guardian Records had to be better than that. He was professional, man.
"Mmhm," Peter said, crossing his arms and looking exaggeratedly nonplussed while Steve basically had whatever the opposite of a panic attack was when he realized that the two of them were not, in fact, dating. It would have been insulting, if Pete wasn't so awesome and easy going. "Yeah no, I get it. I'm a snack. Just not your kind. It's cool." The awkward and overly amused apology didn't hurt though and Peter actually giggled about it because it was sort of a funny thing to realize and then worry about.
He leaned over the counter enough to pull up a roll of paper towels and some windex. Because, honestly, he had been here to work. He wasn't really on a time crunch though, so there was no need to rush it. This was as much of a hang out session as anything else. Hell, he probably had some beer in the back. Because that was what professionals kept in their back offices, obviously.
"Ah. Yeah. Yeah, you were seeing someone. I wouldn't worry about it though. He's not around anymore, and there's no point in -- you know. Making anyone uncomfortable. Or feeling obligated to having conversations. God, those are the worst. Anyway. I was thinking of just kinda going shelf to shelf?"