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Sweet first time

By: veeoan

A knock on the window brought Peter out of staring into the ceiling for too long. He rolled over, stomach flat on the bed before he saw a familiar and pretty face from behind the glass. You offered him a plain, brief smile before tapping softly.

He moved to lift the window open, then shifted aside on the bed for you to land carefully on it. You quietly pulled the window close as you heard Peter whisper from behind.

“Why didn’t you ask me to come over to your house?”

You shrugged. “Didn’t want you to ruin your purity and go against May for me.”

You both moved to lean against the wall, a small space between you two. “Well I’d do it for you.” He sweetly expressed with rosy cheeks. You smiled in response, turning to the beautiful night sky.

He stole a few glances at you in hope you’ll suddenly lose your eyesight and not notice him, but at the same time, he also hoped that you’d notice just so that you’d confess your probably nonexistent feelings and then make out. But that’s very unlikely.

Then it dawned on him that this barely-there interaction needed less awkwardness but more talking. He didn’t want this moment to go to waste- what if you had wanted him to confess so then you could make out? What if you had wanted nothing but a good time with a good friend?

He swore you brought out the thirstiest part of him. Right before he had met you, he barely thought of having sex or making out with someone or anything really. He wasn’t purposefully chastising himself, it was just something normal for him. Then you had to walk your way into his life, his mind and fantasies and he was almost certain that he could lose his friendship over them.

He suddenly, involuntarily blurted out your name and you then shared eye contact. “Could you, uh, help me out?”

“Anything for you, Peter.” That certainly didn’t calm his rapid heartbeat or the butterflies in his stomach.

“I really like someone. And I don’t know how to tell him. I— I don’t want to ruin what we have. He’s so smart and gorgeous. He’s so kind too— it probably would have been easier for me to confess if he was shitty but he isn’t. Aunt May thinks he is because of his appearance, though. He’s always there when I need him and always knows what to say. I don’t want to lose someone as awesome as him.”

The more time it took for you respond, the more Peter’s panic ached to devour him whole. Just what the hell was he thinking?

“I think it’s worth a try. If what you have is something deeper than just mere friendship, it should live on if he does say that he doesn’t feel the same. But it has to come out at some point, it’s better to know for sure instead of torturing yourself. If he does reject you which I doubt he will, just know that he thinks you are the most amazing and the most adorable person to exist.”

His eyes widened at your last sentence and his face was burning. Despite the major red flag, or green flag, a small part of him still dwelled on the possibility of you wanting nothing romantic from him. But the way your eyes shone and stared at him with pure adoration, that suddenly seemed so obvious, had him pushing away the thought and opening up more.

“How did you know?”

“How could I not know, is the better question.” You chuckled a bit.

Peter just seemed to forget how to function properly, because his lips continued opening and closing but with no words coming out. He gulped loudly and stopped bothering to speak.

The pad of your thumb pressed on his lower pink lip, your index was placed below his chin to tilt his head higher, and Peter was panicking just as much as before, maybe even more. He didn’t have a single clue of what he should do.