Spider-Man Imagines I

A Stranger | Peter Parker [TH]

He marched into Biology II and walked to his seat, sending his teacher an apologetic smile, and plopped down at his desk. He tossed his backpack on the ground and glanced to his right, where you were usually beaming at him.

Except now you weren't. You were hunched over your table, staring at it with red eyes.

Peter's eyebrows furrowed. He leaned over and tapped your desk with his pen. "Psst! Hey, babe." You looked at him. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

You gave him a look of disbelief. "Are you really asking me that?"

"Um," he said, "yeah?"

"As if you should even think you have the right to speak to me right now!" you whispered, tears flooding. You looked away again.

He blinked at you. Then, turning back around at his desk, he stared at the whiteboard the teacher was writing on. But he wasn't paying attention to the notes. He was tapping the desk with his pen cap and wondering what it was he did. He ran over his plans for the week. Had he missed a date? An anniversary? No way, your anniversary was in May...

Oh.

Oh.

The kiss.

The kiss.

"Oh," he said, and he turned back to you. He leaned close, voice a loud whisper. "Hey... baby, that kiss was nothing, okay? Just a fan asking for something."

You stared at him in hurt disbelief. "Nothing?" you asked, voice low. "Are our kisses nothing, too?"

"What? No!" he gasped. "How could you say that?"

"How could you kiss someone else?" you demanded, crying softly now. You pressed your fist against your mouth to keep quiet, and it smeared some of your lipstick.

"It was for a fan!" he hissed.

You shook your head at him and started to gather your things. "I don't even know you anymore," you said, tears falling. You got up and left.

"___," your teacher called after you, and Peter put his head down on his desk.

"She feels sick," he lied, and he glared at the door, feeling angrier by the moment.

...

Peter found you at the bus stop and grabbed your hand. He had been chasing you down for hours. You had ditched lunch and he was worried about you.

"Babe!" he exclaimed, making you turn to look at him. "Listen to me for a minute, okay?"

"Pete," you said, all sad and angry, "are you even capable of understanding how horrible it was to watch that? And you- what were you wearing? What happened to your suit?" You shook your head and sighed. "You are so different now. It's awful... what you've become... you're not my Peter. You're, like, a stranger." You pulled your hand away. "I mean, you kissed someone. Kissed them! Why would you do that?"

"It was for-"

"A fan," you repeated dryly. "I got it."

"___-" He was drowned out by the city bus as it screeched and sputtered and groaned, coming to a stop by the sidewalk.

"You've changed," you said.

"You're overreacting," he said. He tried to smile. "All of this isn't a big deal!"

"It isn't?" you asked. You gave a gasp of disbelief. "Imagine if it was me, Peter. Imagine if I kissed some boy even though I knew you could see it. Imagine how you would feel."

And then Peter understood.

He understood how big of a jerk he had been, how all of the Spider-Man stuff had gone to his head, how he had suddenly begun to see himself as an icon. And he remembered, with a kick of sadness in his chest, that he was Peter Parker, the nerdy eleventh grade boy that had a couple of funny, wonderful friends and a girlfriend that was the sweetest person he had ever known and loved.

He loved you-

And he had-

He had-

Oh.

"Oh," he said. Dread filled him. "Oh, gosh. ___," he whispered, and his voice filled with tears, and his eyes, and his throat- and he choked on them. "Babe. I am so sorry."

You ducked your head and shook it. He cupped your face. "Pete," you said sadly. "It's-"

"I'm such a jerk," he mumbled. "I am so sorry-"

"Pete," you said again, and you tilted your head up and looked at him, and he kissed you. You raised up and wrapped your arms around him, pushing up against him. "It's okay," you whispered when he broke off for a breath, and he shook his head. "Hey. It's okay. Sometimes you forget who you are- but guess what? Pete, I'll always be here to bring you back. Always."

He stared at you. He stared at you, his kind, loving, beautiful, forgiving (so forgiving) girlfriend, and he started to cry again. Not because he was sorry or ashamed or anything (which he was) but because you were somehow his, and he couldn't get over the thankfulness he had for you.

He kissed you again, because you were his everything, and he couldn't figure out another way he could show you that.