Your skin is still blotchy and warm from the shower, even as you walk in the cool air of the apartment from the bathroom to your room. Your hair feels tacky from it's towel dried state and your feet feel oddly prune-y against the wood flooring. Once in the comfort of your own room you approach your closet to grab some clothes, excited for the feel of clean clothes on clean skin.
You're about to take off your robe to dress when you hear your window begin to open.
On the fire escape is a familiar suited hero and you rush over and hold the window pane.
"You gonna let me in (Y/N)?" Peter asks.
"I'm getting dressed—give me a second, wouldn't want to get the nickname Peeping Peter, would you?" You ask.
"I thought it was Peeping Tom?" He questions.
You chuckle, "yeah, but alliteration. Just hold on okay?"
With that you close your curtains and return to where you'd put your clothes on the edge of your bed. You slip on a pair of old cotton shorts and a pullover sweater before walking back to the window and opening he curtains again. Peter looks over and climbs in, before taking off his mask and breathing in deep.
"Please tell me you have a change of clothes with you," you prod, because while your parents aren't home now they will be soon.
Peter nods and goes back to the window to grab something from the fire escape which happens to be his backpack. You stand in approval, because neither of you really felt like hashing out the whole Spider-Man secret today. Peter clears his throat ad holds his backpack with a tight grip.
"Oh! Oh um, I'll be in the living room when you're uh finished changing. Sorry," you ramble as your face flushes.
You walk out of your room and shut the door with a soft click only to pad into the kitchen for a glass of water. The drink clears your mind a bit and cools the flush on your face. You hop up and sit on the counter top, it's icy surface nipping at your bare thighs.
A minute or two passes before your door opens, and Peter steps out.
He's got on a worn graphic tee, jeans, and a threadbare hoodie on with the sleeves scrunched up to his elbows. His hair is sticking out every which way, clearly from his mask, and it made him look double the amount of cute he usually is.
You smile and set your glass beside you with a soft clink.
It was then you notice the items he's got in his hand. Interested you slide off the counter and meet him at the kitchen island, eyeing the tech he sets down.
"What's all this for?" You ask.
"You," he says, and it sounds like it wanted to be so sure and confident, but you can tell he's a bit nervous and shaky.
Reaching out you grab the small puck-like object and holding it you get what it is now.
"You got me an Amazon Alexa thing?" You ask, slightly confused.
"Actually—"
"Ahh, what the fuck!?" You yelp and flinch back from the sudden third voice in the room.
The supposed Alexa falls from your hands and Peter rushes to grab it before it crashes to the ground.
"It's just Karen, it's alright," Peter says, his hand squeezing your shoulder as a reassuring gesture.
"I didn't mean to scare you (Y/N)," Karen says, the light around the old Echo device shining (Y/F/C) rather than blue. It makes you smile knowing Peter remembered your favorite color.
"I just wasn't expecting it," you say, "and speaking of... how did you do it?"
Peter sets down what you're just going to call Karen, and bashfully crosses his arms, "I just messed with some coding and Stark tech. I used May's Echo because she hated the thing."
"I also assisted Peter in the reprograming and alterations," Karen says, ratting out Peter.
The boy deflated and gave a rather narrow look at the A.I.
"Why the frown? I'm still impressed Spidey," you tell him.
He looks back up and the corners of his lips curve upwards, "do you wanna know what she can do?"
You nod frantically, more excited once you see how into it Peter is. Of course, had you done something this impressive you would probably want to show it off too. He runs you through the basics and Karen happily joins in as well, doing live demonstrations as well. You can ask her to call Peter and she'll link up with her sister system in his suit, like a phone call of sorts. Karen is also a master of quiz games and jokes if needed.
"—she can also scan your apartment," Peter says softly.
"Why would she need to do that?" You ask.
Peter frowns, "you know about me—er, about Spider-Man... and I could have enemies, and they could use you to get to me. So, Karen can alert you and me if there's a danger to you here."
You feel yourself pause and look at Peter with wide eyes. The more seconds that pass the warmer your skin feels and the faster your heart beats. It was sweet, unbelievably so, and you didn't know what to do with this. It was kind and no boy... well nobody in general has ever done something like this for you.
Peter frowns, "you don't have to take her if you don't like it. I-I just thought—"
"I love it Peter," you say and step closer to the fellow sophomore.
His big brown eyes bore into yours, his tongue momentarily darting out to wet his lips—and, wow, you suddenly feel nervous and excited all at once and you don't know how you're keeping yourself together in this moment.
Your fingertips trail up the zipper on his hoodie and you let your palm rest on his chest, enjoying the warmth and firmness he provides. You inhale sharply when his large hand holds your hips and pull you in closer, both of you awkwardly tilting your heads in opposite directions.
The two of you are so close, you can feel his breath ghosting across your face, and anticipation holds you both in its vice grip. When your lips are millimeters away from Peter's the lock sounds from the nearby front door, and the trance you both had been in breaks and you jump apart from each other.
You watch as your parents open and walk through the door, looking over with raised looks.
"Mom! Dad! Um... hi," you say, a bit frazzled.
"Hi sweetheart," your father waves and sheds off his jacket and shoes.
"Who's your friend here?" Your mother asks.
Peter nods in their direction, "I'm, uh, Peter. (Y/N) and I go to the same school."
Your father huffs, "obviously."
"Right," Peter draws out, looking beyond uncomfortable.
"We were just working on a tech project for class," you tell them and gather up the wires and Karen, "we'll get out of your way."
With one hand you grab Peter's arm and start to pull him towards your room.
"If you'd like you can stay for dinner Peter?" Your mother asks.
You pause and look back at Peter who gives you a wide unsure look.
"I don't think that's really a good idea tonight, it's been a long day," you say, attempting to save him.
"Peter?" Your mother prompts which finally gets him to turn around.
"Thank you, Mrs. (Y/L/N), but I really should head out. My Aunt is probably waiting for me to be home," Peter says politely.
"Would you like a ride home?" Your father asks.
"Peter brought his bike, he's good," you rush out before yanking Peter into your room and shutting the door. You fall back against the wood frame with a sigh.
A beat of silence passes before Karen speaks up, "I detect that you parents are concerned you're sneaking and/or lying."
"No shit Karen," you mutter before putting her on your desk.
You glance over at Peter who has his backpack clutched in his hands, his lips pursed tight, eyes down cast. Confused you step over and use your index finger to tilt his head up by his chin.
"Talk to me, what's going on in your head?" You pry.
Peter takes your hand off his chin and holds it in his own between you two. You feel a low buzz of electricity flow from your fingertips to your toes from the touch.
"I just don't want them to fight," Peter says, stumbling over his words a bit, "I know you hate it when they do."
You open your mouth to say something; a thank you, maybe. Instead you squeeze his hand tighter and lead him out of the apartment and down to the ground floor. You both remain quiet as the elevator doors open with a soft ding.
An elderly woman passes the two of you with a soft smile and a nod of her head.
It makes you feel confident.
You stop short of the door, and it jerks Peter to a stop as well. He looks back at you with a confused look, about to ask if you were okay or something within that spectrum. You step closer and tilt your head just like before, praying this wouldn't fail as your lips meet his.
It's soft. It's warm. It's a bit weird.
Despite that it's still a damn good first kiss. Your hands rest on his chest as his come up and cup your cheeks. You take a baby step or two to get closer because you have this need to have as much of him as you can in this moment. His backpack falls to the ground with a thud but neither of you stop.
It's only when your lungs demand a full breath of air and not short sharp inhales that you pull back. Your forehead rests against his, with your damp (Y/H/C) hair tangled within his fingers. Your tongue swipes at your lip, your lips feeling a bit numb in a very good way.
"Thanks for Karen," you tell him in a small voice, "I'll, um, I'll see you?"
"Y-Yeah," Peter rasps, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows and repeats, "yeah."
You can't help but giggle a bit before giving him one last peck on the corner of his mouth.
"Bye Peter," you say before pulling back.
He waves, looking awestruck as he backs out of the apartment lobby, stumbling like a guy without super agility over the lip of the door frame. You smirk and head back to the elevator feeling more than elated.
... and if you hear Peter let out an excited yelp, well you won't say anything to him about it.