ou sighed deeply, looking at the clock hanging on the wall. Peter was over two hours late, and at this point you figured it was a safe assumption that he wasn't coming at all. Putting away the bags of chips you had bought for tonight and putting the pizza you had bought for Peter in the fridge, you turned off your living room television and walked to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.
You wanted to cry, but you were far past sad or upset with Peter, you were furious. The two of you had been planning this for at least two weeks. He had been bailing on you every single time you made plans for the past few months, and he had promised you that he would be here tonight, and that the two of you would watch all of you favorite movies and eat junk food until the sun had risen. You had even bought Peter's favorite pizza, one you didn't even like but knew he would get excited over.
You crawled into bed, unable to sleep due to the anger seeping through your veins. You had half a mind to pull your phone out and send Peter a long, aggressive text full of words you would be ashamed to let your mother see, but you knew that not text, no matter how long or angry, could ever encapsulate how truly angry you were. So you lied in bed, thinking over the thing you would say to Peter the next time you saw him.
Peter had been your best friend since you could even remember, and though neither of you ever pointed it out, it was obvious that the two of you were much more than just best friends. Over the years of your friendship with Peter, he had never been so flaky and unreliable. Peter had always been your sweet best friend, by your side before you even knew you needed him. You weren't sure what had gotten into him, but you knew it wasn't the 'Stark internship.' He was hiding something from you, that you knew for sure. You just couldn't seem to figure out what. Not even Aunt May had a clue what was going on, she was just in the dark as you are.
Your so distracted that you don't even hear Peter sneak in through the window and slide into bed beside you. You stay silent, ready to ignore him until he starts speaking.
"Did you at least have a good night?" He asked hopefully, not even bothering to prepare an excuse.
"No, actually. I had a terrible night, because as per usual, my asshole best friend let me down and left me by myself." You say. Just the question pisses you, so you jump out of bed and start pacing the room, ignoring Peter's soft eyes.
"(Y/N)–"
"No, Peter. I really don't want to hear your excuses, and I sure as hell don't want to pretend this never happened. I want to know what's going on, so you either tell me, or you get out." You demand, and Peter's eyes hold a note of panic that you hadn't seen before.
"I promise, it was just this once." He says. A humorless laugh falls past your lips as you stare him down.
"Yeah, well it wouldn't be the first time you broke a promise." You snap, and Peter stands.
"(Y/N), you need to understand that the things I'm not telling you are secrets for a reason. I don't want to put you in danger."
"Oh, fuck off. I'm so sick and tired of you blowing me off and trying to act like it doesn't happen. I'm worried about you Peter. Can't you see that?" You ask, your voice much louder than you had anticipated. He looks at you for a moment before grabbing your face in his hands.
"You don't need to be worried about me." He says, and you scoff, wiping away the tears that had built up and spilled down your face. His eyes hold an internal conflict and your about to tell him that he can trust you when his lips are pressed against yours. Suddenly, anything you had planned to say to Peter is washed away as his his slightly chapped lips move softly against yours. He pulls away, his hands still on your face when he begins to speak. "(Y/N), I'm Spiderman." He says.
"Yeah, okay." You roll your eyes, and he sighs.
"You say you want to know what's going on and then you don't even believe me."
"Peter, how could you possibly say something like that to me and expect me to believe you?" You ask. Peter stares at you for just a moment with his brows furrowed.
"(Y/N), as long as we've been friends, how many times have I ever lied to you?" He asks seriously, and you stay silent. "I have never once told you anything less than the truth." He points out. You nod.
"It would explain the bruises." You say teasingly. Peter groans loudly before you chuckle and pull him into a hug. "Peter, you've never been anything but truthful with me. I believe you." You say. "You could have saved us a lot of time and anger if you would have just told me in the first place." You remind him, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck and your shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah."
