𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋

fifteen

warning: honestly trash

"So you wanna tell me where we're going?" asks an impatient Ryder, clinging onto the sleeve of the boy whose got a wide smile and telling eyes.

"It's a surprise!"

Ryder rolls her eyes. "Pete, c'mon, we've been walking forever! And I swear if you're taking me to some fancy—"

Peter looks down at her, ghost of a smile on his lips. "We're wearing sweats for a reason," he answers idly. Then, he lets out a chuckle upon noticing her pointed look. "Oh, c'mon! You could be wearing a trashbag and you'd still be the most beautiful person to walk the planet." He feels her groan beside her, and he cannot help but let out a laugh. "What? It's true!

"You really know how to charm a girl, Parker," she teases, feeling very underdressed in her sweatpants and his MIT sweatshirt, strolling down the busy streets of New York, walking past people with dresses and heels and jewelry that she wishes she has.

"It's my specialty."

"Oh really?"

He nods thoroughly. "Oh yeah. If you get my health and combo bar full, you'll unlock my specialty by pressing X-"

Ryder rolls her eyes and gently pushes him away, playfully muttering, "You're ridiculous."

"Alright, alright," he calms, their arms somehow binding together again in a smooth rhythm. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Did you know about 25,000 trees are cut down every year to supply toilet paper?".

"You're somethin' else."

As the pair near the dinner place, Peter subtly presses the button on his webshooters, letting his mentor know that they're approaching the restaurant. As if on command, a waiter dressed in elegant cotton fabric appears from the entrance of the restaurant, Ryder nearly jumping out of fright upon seeing the fancy dining place they're about to enter. Also, the waiter appearing out of thin air scares her too.

"Right on time, Mr. Parker," the waiter informs politely, an etch of a smile on his lips, and he ushers the young couple into the beautiful marble entrance to the restaurant.

Peter doesn't hesitate to move forward, dragging along an embarrassed Ryder for being so under dressed. As they walk into the restaurant, it's filled with wealthy people who are chattering among themselves, dressed in lavish gowns and expensive tuxes, hair done up with diamond clips and expensive jewelry hanging on the necks of beautiful women, laughing politely and drinking wine. Soft jazz plays from the smooth speakers, the chandelier hanging in the center of the restaurant glimmering eloquently as the dim lights shimmer against it.

When the waiter seats the teenagers, Peter grins sheepishly as Ryder glares at him from across the small date table, fancy silverware sitting in front of them.

"Peter Benjamin Parker, I asked you what to wear-"

"-And I said casual casual," he remarks with a shit eating grin, and when she doesn't laugh, he does. "C'mon, no one cares. Live a little. Besides, we're doing something after this that requires comfy clothes."

Ryder shakes her head, fingers toying with the ends of his sweatshirt, the action hidden under the table as she tries to suppress a smile. "You're insane. I don't know why I shouldn't smack you right now," she jokes, biting her tongue to stop herself from smiling.

Peter notices, and folds his arms onto the table. "Don't wanna make a scene, right?"

Before she can retort, the nicely dressed waiter returns with menus and a water pitcher, immediately gathering order from the kids, suppressing a smile himself upon noticing them, knowing that the one and only Tony Stark is paying for the meal, so the waiter knows these kids must be seriously special.