two sided | peter parker

XLII | intimacy

『in·ti·ma·cy | noun | close familiarity or friendship; closeness』

"SHE HAS PTSD," Tony sighed, wiping his stained hands on the greenish-blue rag that was tossed back onto his lab table. Peter's hands were clamped together and clammy, sweat practically dripping off of them as his mentor pretty much confirmed his worst fears. He hoped that Y/n didn't have something to linger, but of course, it was bound to happen.

Licking his lips, Peter looked down. "How can we help?" Tony glanced up, hands on his hips as he looked at the kid and stood in front of his latest work of mechanics and gears. "There's always therapy and medications, but she absolutely hates the idea of therapy." The statement earned a look from Peter, Tony waving him off. "We had a conversation about it before."

He just nodded, going along with it whilst the adult continued. "Medications is a bad idea since it's all psychological and doing medical shit won't do much. That only leaves the option of self-healing. Y/n's strong and I'm sure she can do it; it just takes a lot of time compared to the other methods." He explained.

Peter chewed on his bottom lip, piercing the fragile skin until drops of blood came out. Scrunching his nose at the distaste, he swiped his tongue across it and continued to mess with the bitten part anyway. "Self-healing. . . is that really the only option?" He questioned, fidgeting with the sleeves of his blue zip up hoodie.

Tony shrugged, sighing and stepping back. He stretched his back muscles, bending his arms back before moving them forward again. "I'm pretty sure, Peter." Friday buzzed in, speaking up in a flat tone whilst the door opened. "Y/n and Faye have returned." Mr. Stark gave his student a small look, Peter getting up and waving before leaving.

The boy wandered over to the door, seeing the girl who he hadn't defined his relationship with and the other one who nearly slaughtered him over pancakes just a few days ago. Faye was lugging some bags behind her, the bags filled with different books that she planned to read and a few sweaters for herself.

Y/n had gotten a sweater that had a French curse word, some French pastries that reminded of her of France, and a sandwich for Peter. He smiled, noticing the familiar Delmar's bag and took it from her before she recited his order, rolling her eyes slowly. "Don't worry, don't worry. I made sure to get the pickles 'smushed down real flat'." He said in unison, laughing softly.

Faye giggled at their little bickering and stepped forward, moving her feet out of her pink laced converse. "Make sure to save some of those pastries for me, alright?" Y/n nodded, complying, but knowing that she'd merely leave about two for the little girl before being dragged to the same bakery again.

"Mr. Delmar says hi, by the way." Y/n says matter-of-factually, rocking back and forth on her heels before slipping off her own sneakers. Looking back at Peter, he merely tilted his head with a kind smile shaped on his lips. His arms were pulled back behind his back, one hand grabbing the other hand's wrist. "Really? Guess I should visit him some time. . . "

Heading to her room, Peter hesitantly followed after her, but after she gave him a genuine smile, he didn't seem so hesitant. He sat on her bed, watching her pull out the sweater and show him, translating it and making him laugh. Now, the box of pastries were open and the two were randomly talking. The blinds were raised up, revealing the pretty sky.

Peter raked his brown curls back, cream slightly lining his lips along with small bits of jelly. The icing on his pastry was on his cheek, a small pinch of it smeared on it. Grabbing a tissue, Y/n set down her pastry, wiping the frosting slowly. "You're going backwards, dessert first and the sandwich after." She giggled, amused.

He blushed, his cheeks warming at her gesture as he smiled. "Mhm," Peter hummed, feeling the tissue still linger on his skin even though she pulled away and threw the tissue away. Grabbing her pastry again, she bit into it. Faye, having enough, walked into the room and snatched her share of pastries before stomping out and closing the door behind her.

"Guess she's a bit impatient," Peter jested, crossing one leg over the other while he leaned back in her desk chair, the chair squeaking softly as he spun around. She nodded, licking some of the sweetness off her fingers and finishing the last of her pastry with another chew and a swallow. He glanced at her, grinning. "Y'know, last year didn't have the best prom."

Moving her arms back, she seemed to get the habit from Tony whilst relaxing her back muscles and letting a few joints in her back crack satisfyingly. "I left before that, didn't I? Why didn't you just take that other girl instead?" Y/n asked, the question leaving a bitter taste in her mouth as she reminisced over the toxic parts of the year before.

He let out a dry laugh, raising an eyebrow and stuffing the rest of the sweet treat into his mouth. It seemed to stuff itself in a pouch of its own, setting in on the inside of his left cheek. "Rebecca? No, we broke it off. I-I don't even really talk to her anymore, y'know? I broke up with her the same week that you left."

"Why?" Her eyebrows furrowed, confusion flooding her face. The answer was as clear as day, but Y/n refused to face it in fear of letting her walls come crashing down officially. He was the one that forced them to be built, and now he was the only one that could break them down. Standing up, Peter smiled and approached her, making her stand up.

He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, the soft smile still shaping his lips while she looked up at him. Her forehead was parallel to his lips, eyes gazing up at the boy with a hesitant glint lighting up in her eyes. Looking down at her, Peter's eyes never faltered from her own as he chuckled sweetly.

"Because my heart belongs to you."