Spider-Man/Peter Parker One-Shots

Why We Can Never Be

His eyes spotted your nails as you tapped them together like you were an evil villain revealing their master plan. He stared for a moment before jerking his head up. "Nice nails."

"Thank you," you beamed, looking down at them proudly. You didn't wear fake nails very often, but when you did, you made sure they looked wonderful.

"Could you, um, scratch my head for me?" Peter blinked innocently as you gave him a look that told him he wasn't slick. Every time he saw you had nails he inevitably asked if you would scratch his head because he loved the feeling of you playing with his hair. But you couldn't complain; you loved any excuse to touch him. So you sat behind him on his bed, letting your hands run through his hair and lightly scratch his scalp. He sighed, closing his eyes to focus on your touch as you watched his expression with a subtle smile.

If you didn't know any better, you would've assumed the two of you were dating. But you did know better. You weren't sure why but he never asked you out. Now, that didn't mean you couldn't ask him, but you made it abundantly clear you liked him and would say yes if he asked, then left the ball in his court. He hadn't done anything with it, just left it rolling across the ground, so you assumed he didn't want to date you and didn't bring it up to avoid hard conversations.

A siren screamed by the window, Peter's room lighting up red and blue for a moment before the sound and light faded. You watched Peter sigh before standing and walking towards his closet. He pulled out his red and blue suit before stripping and putting it on. He had gotten really fast at changing clothes, so within a minute he was double checking his web fluid, but you enjoyed the view regardless. Meeting your eyes, he blushed at the obvious interest his actions gained him and cleared his throat.

"I have to go." He gestured toward the window. You nodded and stood.

"Go. I'll see you later." You waved him away, and he had one foot out the window before he stopped.
"Don't go home without me!"

You laughed at his concern. "Pete, I'll be fine." You placed a kiss on his forehead over his mask. "Now get out there and save people." He paused a moment, looking between the streets of New York and you, before sighing.

"Be safe." He pulled up his mask and kissed you, then pulled the mask down and jumped out the window. You watched with a flutter in your chest, somewhere between unease and bashfulness. You loved his concern—it was the reason you fell in love with him in the first place—but why wouldn't he ask you out? You two were practically a couple without the label, but you never took Peter to be the type to avoid tying himself down because he wanted to keep his options open. He couldn't be malicious even if he tried.

Ignoring your thoughts before it turned into a whirlwind of uncomfortable emotions, you grabbed your things and headed out into the cold. It would soon be Thanksgiving and it sure felt like it. There was a faint bit of snow drifting down from the sky but it melted as soon as it hit the ground. The moon hung up in the sky among a dark sky, the stars hidden due to light pollution. The neon signs that seemed to be strung up in every store open right now more than made up for the lack of light, however.

You found yourself zoning out due to the familiarity of the route home and your thoughts that didn't want to shut up. You'd thought yourself in circles so many times it was a wonder your brain had any steam left to dwell on it. Maybe you should just ask him about it. But you really didn't want to make it awkward between the two of you. But you kind of wanted to know if you weren't obvious enough. You knew guys weren't very good about picking up signals, and Peter definitely couldn't tell the difference between flirting and niceness, but you figured literally saying "hey I like you and I would like to date you but I know you're going through a lot right now so I'll let you ask me out if you want to" was pretty obvious.