DRAWING BY pinkpipedream

PETER PARKER
Present

"What do you mean that wasn't you?" I looked at him skeptically.

Quentin groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. "We should get somewhere safer first. I doubt that's the last time we'll be seeing Shadow."

"Yeah," I agreed. "We need to go back to Stark Towers, I bet Happy is really worried." I bit my lip guiltily. I hated inconveniencing people.

"Are you sure that's such a good idea? There are way more people there and we don't know if Shadow's planning to continue his scheme or not yet."

"Happy will know what to do," I persisted. "And there are more people there to help. They might not all be superheroes but they're all practically geniuses."

He grunted out some hasty agreement before tossing MJ over his shoulder as we walked toward the building.

My heart was thudding in my chest faster than ever just from being in his presence and my mind was racing with too many doubts that I could barely contain. I kept my face forward and looked at him from out of the corner of my eye.

Both of us looked like a mess. His dark hair was all disheveled, clothes dirty and torn, fresh bruises beginning to form upon our skin. But he still looked just as handsome to me.

When we finally reached Stark Towers it was utter chaos. All the employees were rushing around frantically and there were a group of soldiers that I'd never seen before.

I hesitantly peered up at Quentin with a blush and slipped my hand into his. "Just so they know you're with me." I assured him with a red face. He hummed in agreement and if we were on normal terms he definitely would've cracked a joke and teased me.

When we got to the entrance of the building a few people noticed Quentin and started to scream which attracted the attention of, well, everyone.

The soldiers raised their guns to fire at Quentin. "Stop it!" I yelled at them and pushed him behind me so that I was blocking them.

"Move!" One of them screamed at me and I looked up at Quentin worriedly. He placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder and offered a comforting smile. I was tempted to lean in and feel more of his skin against mine but we were interrupted.

"Hold your fire!" a familiar voice shrieked, the sound of harsh footsteps booming our way.

I was pulled out of my trance when Happy pulled me into one of the tightest hugs I'd ever had. "Happy!" I choked, "I can't breathe!"

"You're lucky I don't do just that right now!" he scolded as we parted and I averted my gaze shamefully.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

He sighed. "Sorry doesn't even begin to cover this Peter. I'm responsible for making sure you're responsible. You could've died!"

I felt an enormous amount of guilt pang in my chest with the amount of fear in his voice. I timidly met his gaze again. This time he relaxed a little bit, probably when realizing that now I'm safe so everything worked out.

For now at least.

"Speaking of," Happy scrunched up his nose. "You smell like you died. You need to go take a shower pronto."

My cheeks blushed in embarrassment because of Quentin standing next to me being able to hear our entire conversation. I smiled sheepishly at him, only remembering that I was holding his hand when he gave it a consoling squeeze. Happy looked at me confusedly before finally noticing the person standing next to me.

"What?" He blinked, looking between us. "Isn't he supposed to be dead?" He looked at me expectantly and waited for an answer. Answers that I didn't have yet.

"Look Happy," I started, painfully aware of him staring at our hands intertwined. "The two of us need to have a serious chat and I need to shower so we need to postpone this conversation another hour or two."

Happy scoffed in return. "No way Peter, you're telling me everything right now."

I rolled my eyes and just tugged in Quentin's hand so that we could go up to my room. The second we went to move the soldiers started yelling and pointed their guns at us again.

"Stop!" Happy yelled and begrudgingly made eye contact with Quentin. "He's on our side."

I smiled a little bit too giddily for absolutely no reason. I felt like a little girl who's dad met her boyfriend for the first time and actually accepted him. Except Quentin is not my boyfriend.

Quentin rushed out some form of thank you and passed off an unconscious MJ to Happy with no explanation before I hauled him into the building and headed for my room. He scanned over everything we passed with fascination and a little bit of nostalgia lingering in his eyes. When we got to the elevator I pushed the button for my floor and finally let go of his hand before it got too awkward.

He looked down at me questioningly while I began to fumble with my shoes, nudging them together. But he didn't take his gaze off of me once. The rest of the elevator ride was spent with his beautiful eyes burning into the side of my face while I tried to contain the blush wanting to spill color onto my cheeks while twiddling with my fingers. The tension was so thick that when the bell tinged to make us aware that we were at our floor, I jumped a little in surprise.

"Easy," Quentin spoke in his alluring, masculine tone while holding a tight grip on my shoulder to make sure I didn't fall.

"Thanks," my voice cracked as I darted out of the elevator and into my room while he followed behind.

I sprawled across the bed face down and relaxed all of my muscles, moaning out a little with the relief.

"I have to shower," I mumbled to Quentin, not even making an attempt to get up.

"Are you ok?" His voice was hot and heavy in my ear, full of concern while he ran a hand down my back.

"Yes." I exhaled and enjoyed the feeling of him touching me. "Just sore. And tired. Really really tired."

His hand traveled up to hair and he stroked it carefully. His fingers kneaded through the strands and massaged into my scalp and this time I let out a louder moan.

He pulled away and I whined in protest, the exhaustion making me a bit delirious. His hands always felt so good on me.

He chuckled. "You really do need to shower, it'll make you feel better." I groaned incoherently and snuggled into the bed comforter.

I felt a weight lift off of the bed and I was a little bit disappointed that he had just left until I heard the sound of my shower running. I tilted my head back to see Quentin picking some clothes out of my drawer, presumably for me to wear after the shower I was being forced to take.

I pretended to be asleep when he walked back toward me but he knew better. I squeaked as he lifted me off of the bed with ease and set me down on the cold bathroom tiles.

"I already turned it on for you," he explained and motioned to the running shower. "I left clothes on the counter for when you're done and here's a towel." He handed it to me.

I tried to hide the fond grin threatening to escape my lips.

He's so sweet.

"Thank you." I settled for instead. He ran his fingers through my hair again and I kept in all sounds just in case.

I started to pull off my suit. He stared at me with want until I got down to my waist, coming to his senses and clearing his throat while looking anywhere but me. "If you need anything I'll be outside," he told me softly. "And then we can talk."

"And then we can talk," I agreed.

Quentin shut the bathroom door and I peeled the rest of my suit off of my body. I pushed my hand under the water to adjust it to the right temperature but it was already perfect.

I stepped into the shower and let the day wash off of me. All the tension, pain and worries. I rested my head against the tile and felt completely safe and calm for the first time in a long time. But I wasn't feeling that way because of a simple shower or being in Stark Towers, I was feeling that way because Quentin was here.

I beamed, thinking about how we had just held hands and his digits twirling in my hair. The best part were his kisses though. God, I could kiss that man forever and never get tired once.

I squeaked when the water started to run cold, signaling that I'd been in the shower for way longer than I'd thought.

"Peter?" Quentin called worriedly through the door, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I rushed out, the feeling of talking to him while naked making me stiff even though there was a wall between us.

I heard him slowly walking away before I got out and tried myself off with the towel he gave me, then moving onto the clothes he picked out.

"I'm ready," I muttered, coming out of the bathroom when I was finished.

He motioned for me to sit on the bed with him and we sat quietly for a few moments.

"Peter, I want you listen to me, ok?" he commanded. "This is going to be a lot to take in and I know you might not believe me, but I'm begging you to at least listen."

Against my better judgement, I felt my arms wrapping around his neck and holding him in a loving, comforting embrace.

"I promise I'll listen," I mumbled.

He opened his mouth to speak, and I just hoped with everything in me that he had a good enough excuse for everything that had happened.

After missing him for so long and wishing he was alive to that wish being granted but still not being able to have him was torture. After getting a taste of love you just can't help yourself from going back for more.

And Quentin Beck makes me want so much more.