Goddamn it Peter

     Peter sat on his queen sized bed, sporting a new pair of sweatpants that sat unapologetically low on his defined hips. His eyes shot from up from his phone to look at you, blushing a color brighter than the plaid sheets of his bed.

     “Listen, I didn’t mean to walk in on you, I mean you weren’t in the kitchen and I got worried! I don’t know what I was thinking, I mean you were probably asleep and I thought I could just brush my teeth-”

     He was worried about you? You felt your cheeks flush. Peter was worried about you. You shoved the thought aside and went back to the matter at hand.

     “Where were you Parker? After you took the call, you were gone.”

     You heard him mutter a curse as he sat up straight to set his phone on the nightstand to look at you fully. He licked his lips tentatively as if picking what to say from his library of excuses you knew he had all lined up. No matter, you’d find out what he was hiding one way or another. 

     You took a step forward, leaning on the doorframe. It had to be past midnight by now, you thought. You don’t know if it was the late hour, or the sudden rush of assertiveness you felt but what came out next probably shocked you more than him.

     “Spit it out pretty boy.”

     You heard his breath hitch as he brought his knees to his chest to rest his chin on it. You heard him chuckle slightly as he stared up at the wall, then bringing his eyes back to you.

     “You think I’m pretty? I think you think I’m a little more than just pretty.”

     If you weren’t blushing before, you sure as hell were now. You prayed to whatever god there was that he couldn’t see it. 

     “Oh my fucking god Parker. Just tell me! Are you a criminal or something?”

     “Only if you consider late night runs to be a crime.”

     Fine. If you weren’t going to get it out of him tonight, you had all year to. And you definitely planned to find out Peter’s dirty little secret. 

     “Whatever you say Peter. Goodnight.”

     You closed the door behind you before he could say anything back, and you could hear him sigh after. If it was in relief, or disappointment, you couldn’t tell. 

     You opened the door to your room and shut it as quietly as the creaky door would allow. You made a mental note to get it fixed. Climbing into bed, you closed your eyes, occasionally opening them to a particularly harsh car zooming past, or a screaming drunk wandering the streets. Sure enough, when you closed them, Peter Parker was behind them every time.

     You woke up to the sound of a police car driving past, blaring the alarm for all of fucking New York to hear. Sure, you were grateful for the police keeping you safe, but if you were being honest, Spider-man did his job pretty well on his own. 

     At this point, the city was teeming with weird villains and lizards that you wouldn’t have dreamt up in your wildest dreams. At least Spider-man could take care of those. It was kind of funny to you, how one day he could be saving all of New York from some evil octopus robot monster thing, and the next he’d be reprimanding some car thief. 

      You rolled out of bed, grabbing your phone and shoving it in your bag before changing into an outfit. Fuck. With everything that happened last night, you had nearly forgotten about your first class today. You opted for something professional, but still cute.

      You threw on a slip on dress that ended mid-thigh you had bought with Zoya for “when you finally grow the balls to go on a date.” You threw on a slightly oversized blazer for good measure. 

      Grabbing your bag, you checked your phone. It was 10:30, so you had an hour and a half to spare. You walked into the kitchen, half expecting Peter to be there too, but the only thing that was there was a plate of pancakes and a note. 

     Off to commit some more crimes. You scoffed. Of course the pancakes were perfect. Everything about Peter was fucking perfect. The sneaky bastard had even managed to wiggle his way into your stone cold bitch of a heart. 

     You finished off the pancakes and nearly jumped when your phone buzzed with a text from Zoya.

how’s it going with parker lmfao?? did he like the food i left? istg if he didn’t.

     You rolled your eyes and chuckled, texting back. 

he fucking loved it, you’re a wizard, never guess he would’ve liked palak paneer but he ate it like it was the best pussy he ever had.

     You glanced at the time, it was 11:00. Zoya texted back in record time.

HEPL I CANT BREATSH WHAT KIDN OF SHIT ANALOGY IS THATJSGD GET YOUR ASS TO CLASS

      You smirked and shoved your phone in your blazer pocket, grabbing your bag and bounding out the door. You skipped down the steps, nearly falling down. Thankfully, you caught yourself, giggling like a little girl when you did. It was your first day at your dream school, and nothing was getting in the way of it being perfect. Nothing.

     The lecture room was surprisingly easy to find, despite the large campus. You found a seat in the middle, not too close, and not too far from the professor. Perfect. You took a seat and pulled out your laptop. 

     “Hey, you.”

     You looked up to see Peter looking down at you, shooting you a wink before taking the seat next to you. God damn it. So much for paying attention. You smirked back, trying your best not to look him in the eye.

     “Ugh. Peter don’t pull anything, I actually want to pass”

     He sighed and pulled out his laptop, leaning towards you to get a glimpse of your wallpaper. 

     “Cute background.”

      You rolled your eyes at him and scoffed. Your wallpaper was a picture of you and Zoya a couple years back at prom, and it was the only clear picture you had where you two weren’t blackout drunk.

     “Thanks, it’s the only picture I have of us where we aren’t fucking wasted.”

     “Yeah, I’m going to have to meet Zoya more often. She sounds fun.”

     You knew what he meant, but you still wanted to take the piss out of it.

     “You’re fucking gross Peter!”

     He chuckled, a low sound that was lighthearted in nature, but still turned you on for some reason. 

     “You know what I mean.”

     He leaned back in his seat, and you took the opportunity to pull out your phone to text Zoya. 

     “Hey, I never got your number.”

      You looked up to see Peter holding his phone out, waiting for you to take it. You raised an eyebrow, but still took it from him.

     “Smooth, Parker.”

     “Shut up.”

     You keyed in your number and handed the phone back to him, your heart thumping fast in your chest. Holy shit. You just gave Peter your number without batting an eye. If you weren’t in a lecture room with hundreds of students, including Peter, you may have squealed.

     You took a deep breath as the professor began droning on, tuning out everything else around you, Peter’s breathing, the kid behind you clicking his pen, and someone in front of you whispering crude details about their last hookup. You took a deep breath and started typing up your notes.

      Class was finally over, you stood up, shutting your laptop promptly, shoving it in your bag with a sigh. You didn’t understand half of the material the old man was spewing.

     Sure, your professor was smart, no doubt about it, but he was terrible at teaching. You looked down at Peter, who was staring at his laptop through his glasses. You realized his eyes were closed. Snickering, you shook him awake.

     “Peter! Wake your ass up!”

     He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. He blinked a few times before looking up at you. He looked so cute like that, you thought. You didn’t realize you were smiling until your face started to hurt. You licked your lips and offered him a hand up.

     He took it, pulling himself up from the desk. He was painfully close to you again, and the position was reminiscent of the night before. He quickly grabbed his laptop and bag before walking out of the room with you. You looked up at him, smirking.

     “Did you listen to anything the professor said?”

     He rubbed his neck sheepishly and bit his lip. 

     “Maybe?” He offered. 

     “Jesus Parker, how did you even graduate high school?”

     He chuckled, carding his fingers through his fluffy hair. 

     “I just had a rough night is all.”

     You scoffed, walking out of the building with him. 

     “How did you have a rough run?”

     “I uh… tripped.”

     You sighed as you maneuvered around  the fountain. 

      “I don’t really understand the material,  wanna study together?”

     It was a lame excuse to hang out with him, but you gave it a shot. He paused for a second before answering.

     “Yeah, sure. I’m free now if…?”

     He looked down at you, glasses slipping down his nose. You couldn’t help but smile. 

     “Yeah, yeah I’m free.”

     He smirked, taking off his glasses to polish them. 

     “My place or yours?”

     “Haha. Do you have a car? I don’t feel like walking.”

     He paused, and you swear you could hear him swallow.

     “Never seemed to need one.”

      You groaned and kept walking. You didn’t want it to be awkward or uncomfortable for him, so you asked him a question. 

     “Do you have a job? Or like… a hobby?”

     “I have a job. I do freelance photography.”

     Your eyes lit up and you smiled. 

     “I love photography! Any kind of art really. You know Spider-man?”

     Peter paused, and you didn’t miss how his breath hitched for a second. He looked down at you, eyes wide with concern.

     “Yeah?”

     You raised a tentative eyebrow, and laughed it off.

     “I really like the stuff he does. It’s kind of like art in a way, you know? The way he moves is so… fluid. It’s really impressive, almost like he’s dancing. Also he’s pretty hot.” You didn’t know what it was that possessed you to say that, but it definitely wasn’t a lie. The spandex-clad superhero was definitely a sight for sore eyes. 

    Peter nearly choked. It was your turn to look concerned.

     “You ok Parker?”

     “Yeah! Yeah I’m good. It’s cool.”

     He started laughing. 

     “What?” You stopped, looking up at him, confused.

      “Nothing, I just always thought you’d be different. Closed off. Reserved. You’re actually really easy to talk to.”

      You felt a blush creep over you and you chuckled.

     “You’re pretty easy to talk to too.”

     Before you knew it, you were back at the dorms, kicking off your shoes at the door. He glanced at you, still untying his shoes. 

     “My room or yours?”

     “Eh, the kitchen’s island s’fine.”

     He bit his lip, smirking. You blushed. You didn’t realize how dirty that sounded. You looked up at the ceiling, looking anywhere but at Peter.

     “You know what I mean Parker.”

     “Sure I do.”

     You scoffed and tossed your bag on the counter. You sat down on one of the stools, and Peter sat down next to you. You shrugged off the heavy blazer and placed it on the counter and you saw Peter’s look at the ceiling.

      Shit. It was just a slip dress, and he had already walked in on you, so why was he looking away? You pulled out your laptop, trying to make your brain shut up.

Peter coughed, trying to get your attention. You glanced over at him, taking pride in how his face was a pretty shade of pink. 

     “So um… what did he talk about?”

     You giggled, and pushed your laptop over to him. He really was hopeless. You watched him scan your notes, and he cocked an eyebrow. 

     “This is easy, what don’t you understand?”

     You rolled your eyes. “Everything.”

     It was almost dark out now, and you were worn out. Peter had been rambling on about something for the last hour, and as cute as it was, it was tiring. You definitely understood the material more now, but Peter had a bad habit of getting off-topic. 

      “Hey, where’d you get that dress?”

     You gave him a questioning look.

     “Calvin Klein, why?”

     He turned around, suddenly interested in your notes. 

     “Looks good.” He mumbled, licking his lips, still infatuated with your notes.

     You blushed, not trusting yourself to say anything back. You felt your skin burn all over, despite the room being somewhat cold now. He likes the dress. Noted. You made a mental note to thank Zoya for going out and forcing you to buy it.

     You and Peter both jumped when his phone went off. He shot you an apologetic look and grabbed his phone.

      “Shit! Sorry, I’ve got to take this.”

     You nodded, feeling an odd sense of deja vu. He was already out the door before you realized this was your chance to find out what Parker was hiding. Throwing on a pair of fuzzy slippers, you ran outside, expecting him to be there, but Peter was nowhere to be seen.

      You ran down the stairs, looking frantically for him. You let out a sigh of defeat and headed back upstairs. Peter would probably come back soon, so you decided to make him something for dinner. Zoya was definitely a better cook, but you could manage yourself when it came to food.

     Zoya had left behind a handful of groceries for you, and you decided to make the most of it. You opened the fridge to find broth, onions, cheese, and butter. Zoya really never did disappoint. Everything you needed was sitting in the fridge.

     You sighed, finally done with the french onion soup. You pulled out two bowls, using the ladle to spoon it in. You topped it with cheese and toast, and the hopeless romantic in you lit a candle.

      Still giddy with excitement, you began to think of what to say. Hey Peter, I’ve been head over heels in love with you since we were 15! Maybe eat dinner with me? You groaned. What the hell were you actually supposed to say? 

     You sat there waiting. And waiting. And waiting. When you finally realized he wasn’t coming you felt the disappointment that had been creeping up behind you finally slap you across the face. And it hurt like a bitch. You pulled out your phone to text Zoya.

hey. can you come over?? urgent

     She read the message.

yeah ofc <33 omw rn

     You smiled and sat there, waiting.

     After about ten minutes, you jumped at a knock at the door. Part of you wanted it to be Peter, but you already knew who it was. 

     “Hey! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you more disappointed to see me. What’s up?”

     Her eyes travelled to the counter, and she hugged you. You both sat down at the counter, nursing the soup. You sighed, barely taking a sip.

     “Sorry, it’s probably cold by now…”

     “Shush. Your soup is always great, hot or cold. You wanna tell me what happened with Parker?”

     You sighed. 

     “We were studying together, and he ran out after he got a text or something. Same thing happened last night, he got a call and then he was just… Gone.”

     “What do you mean gone?”

     “Like he didn’t even… leave his room. He just… vanished? I know it sounds crazy but…”

     “Is he a criminal or something? That sounds sketchy as shit.”

     “Hah. Already asked him that, he asked me if ‘I considered late night runs a crime’”

     “Fucker. He’s definitely hiding something.”

     “I wanna find out.”

     Zoya shot you a contemplative look. 

     “I trust you, I really do. Just don’t get into too much trouble. Don’t do anything I would do.”

     You chuckled. “Too late, I already did.” Zoya rolled her eyes. 

     “Alright, change of subject. Get your mind off of Parker. Did you see that shit on the news? Spider-man got this threat! Some guy said he’d take hostages if he didn’t quit and reveal his identity. Crazy shit, really.”

     “No actually, I didn’t look at the news. I’ve been a bit busy with…” You gestured vaguely to the soup. 

     “Yeah, shit’s crazy. Apparently he got all pissed about it, and the guy who made the threat is still out and about.”

     “Oh really? Stay careful out there then. No walking home, I’m calling you an uber.”

     Zoya groaned. “I can hail a cab, you know.”

     You pulled out your phone and opened the uber app. 

     “Too bad. Already done.”

     Zoya rolled her eyes and went back to her soup. “Fine. Only ‘cause you’re paying.”

     You and Zoya talked until her uber arrived, and you made sure to see her out and checked she was 100% safe. 

     You ripped off a corner of a napkin and rummaged through your bag for a pen. 

     Hey Parker, here’s some soup for whenever you’re done committing heinous crimes. Just heat it up, it should be good. 

     You put it down on the counter, where Peter definitely wouldn’t miss it. When you went to bed, you didn’t even bother taking off the dress. You were fucking exhausted. 

     Apparently not exhausted enough to dream of anything but Peter.