Webs and Hearts- tasm!p.p

1. Hit the Bottoms

Warnings: suggestive sex, aged up characters

Summary: you got a bottom locker and Peter is the person who has the locker above you, now he always calls you 'bottom', though you have repeatedly told him you are most certainly not.

_

"Looks like I've to hit the bottom..."

To any passing pair of ears, this would have sounded like a normal college guy with an ample of motivation for the day ahead. But, of course, you knew better.

Cowering your hand inside your locker (which, surprises, happened to be the bottom one of Peter Parker), you pretended to be rummaging Zeus' lightning bolt yourself, having every mind to just slip off his daily addressal.

And of course, you couldn't do that. The next second, you turned, your sneakers doing a total 360 degree rotation, and you came face to face with Peter, the skateboard slung along with his shoulder bag, the camera held in his hands with a pretty sweet smile.

"Good morning, bottom."

"No, more like, I've to hit the top's face away?"

"Hey!" he protested, still smiling. "That was a poem!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

You flashed your palms in a threatening manner as he patted you on the head. "Aunt Mae is going to her friend today evening."

"Nice?" You chided back. "I hope she drags you too."

Peter waved his arms as if he was doing jujitsu. "No, I was planning to invite you...yeah."

You choked back a real choke on air, as you turned to him with 'and-why-would-i-come' expression. "I'm definitely not coming."

"Aww, bottom's scared."

"I'm not scared!" Throwing a book on him (he caught it, no idea how), you stomped your feet like a cross between a spoiled child and a murderous bull. "And I most certainly am not a bottom!!"

"I bet you are," still smirking, he placed his skateboard on the floor.

"I'll prove it I'm not!" You felt your face grow warm and ears turning a perfect shade of hot red as he held back a grin and leaned towards you.

"Wanna bet?"

You knew, that was a seductive, silly, hot, half headed thing he said. Ignoring the weird backflips and the way your heart and stomach wanted to exchange their positions, you stuck your nose high in the air, scoffing at him.

"Bet, it is."

His hickory brown eyes did a little shimmer dance, as he stood back, and mock saluting at you with two fingers, actually shouted from across the corridor.

"IF I WIN, YOU HAVE GOT THAT NAME, AND IF YOU WIN, I'D MAKE YOU A BOTTOM ANYWAY!"