Pointe Shoes and Spider Webs

34. Magnetism

The 80's playlist still softly plays in the background as they eat. Daphne was embarrassed to admit that she'd never eaten with chopsticks before, so Peter proposed he'd teach her that too. After about ten minutes of struggling she gave up and went back to eating with a fork. She promised him she'd learn it one day. He promised he'd keep her to that.

It's quiet as they eat, the weight of a missed kiss hanging in the room. She stares at her food. She plays with the meal, separating the noodles from the vegetables. Poking and poking and poking...
"Thanks, Pete," Daphne mutters suddenly. The timing was horrible, she realizes, as he currently has his cheeks completely stuffed with noodles and many of them are still hanging out of his mouth. He makes a questioning noise and she chuckles. "For all of this." She looks back at her meal, twisting and untwisting the noodles on her fork. "The food, the studying... For being here..." Peter tries to hide his aggressive chewing by putting his hand in front of his mouth. He can't say anything until he swallows the bite and he really wants to reply. "...With me."

He was about to swallow, but chokes and coughs loudly when she says that, making Daphne get up and rush towards him. "Oh, fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"S'okay-" he pushes out. "Jus- a noodle-" he coughs again. "In my lungs." She ignores his sarcasm.
"That's not okay, man. Can I get you anything?" He keeps coughing and squeezes his eyes shut.
"Water, please." Daphne scoffs at the fact that he still says please. She grabs his drink from the table and hands it to him. She sits down next to him and lets her hand glide up and down Peter's back slowly until he gets the food out of his air pipe and settles down. He takes it slow, breathing steadily and focusing on her hand on his back. It feels nice and comforting.
"Remind me never to thank you again when you eat," Daphne jokes.
"Good idea," Peter says apologetically. Daphne realizes she still has her hand on his back and their thighs are touching. She clears her throat and moves away from him so she can grab her own food again.

"I meant it, though," she mutters. "Thank you."
"Anything for you, Daph." He realizes what he said and quickly grabs his own plate again. Stuffing his face with food again to stop himself from saying more things that might embarrass him. They finish their meals in silence, listening to the playlist. Peter coughs a few more times during dinner to get rid of the remains of the stray noodle in his air pipe. Eventually Daphne puts the dishes in the sink. She walks back to the couch and flops down into it.
"So, what's next?" Peter looks at her, slightly shocked. Does she want him to make a move? She bends forward to the table and grabs her science book. Oh, he thinks, slightly disappointed. He collects himself and takes the book from Daphne, reading the next chapter carefully.
"Alright." He clears his throat. "Magnetism."

...

"Daph?" Peter realizes Daphne has been rather quiet for a few minutes now, not really responding to what he's explaining to her anymore. Her head rests on his shoulder and her breathing is steady. Peter touches her hair and smiles softly. "Bed time." Daphne perks up at that, her eyes still half closed.
"Nooo," she mumbles. "Gotta... gotta study more."
"You're pretty much already asleep," Peter chuckles.
"No, I'm not, I'm wide awake." Her voice sounds lulled and she softly drops her head back on his shoulder again. "No sleep."
"Yes sleep."

Peter gently holds her head in his hand as he turns to her on the couch. He guides one of her arms over his shoulder and puts his other arm under her knees. He stands up, lifting her with him. She lets out a soft yelp. "Don't worry, I got you," he says quietly. She's light as a feather. She hooks her other arm around him instinctively and hides her face in the crook of his neck. He carried her like this a week ago as well, when he took her back from Loki.
"Smell nice," she mumbles. Peter chuckles and can't help but stick his nose in her hair and press a quick, soft peck on top of her head.
"You smell nice too."
"Mm..."

He walks to her bedroom, navigating through the hallway easily. He's been here before, but not as Peter. Not that she seems to care about anything right now. He somehow succeeds at opening her sheets without letting go of her and places her in the middle of her bed. She moans gratefully when her head touches the pillows and she turns to her side, curling up into a little ball, with her back to Peter. Her arm still sticks out backwards, though. She's not letting go of Peter's hand, even though this position seems highly uncomfortable.

"Daph, it's late, I gotta go home." He pulls softly, trying to get his hand back.
"No," she pushes out with a slight frown. "Stay..." Peter freezes. She turns on her back to look at him with half open, pleading eyes. "With me..." His heart beats fast in his chest. She's not going to let go of him.
"I don't have pajamas with me," he stutters. "Or my tooth brush." What a horrible excuse. She tugs at his hand.
"Come..." She turns her back on him again. It still doesn't really look like a comfortable position with her arm stretched out like this. He'd only have to pull once and he'd probably dislocate it. "Sleep..." He wants to. He really does. But what if her father comes home earlier than expected? He'd throw Peter out the window.

"I-"
"Please." It's only a whisper. Soft and sweet. Her thumb rubs slow circles on his hand and he melts under her touch. He realizes he's delaying the inevitable. His mind wanders for a brief moment, comparing himself to a sailor finally giving in to the siren, who was beckoning- no- luring him towards her with her sweet, honey-coated voice. There are no harsh rocks for him to crash on, though. There's a bed. And soft pillows. And a thick duvet to keep them warm.

He sits down on the bed and it squeaks softly under his weight. Daphne hums delighted at her victory. Peter's heart flutters at how cute she is when she's sleep drunk. He tries to lay down a little bit away from her, but the hand she's holding him with pulls him towards her. She curls his arm around her waist and he can't think straight anymore. Her body is flush against his and she holds onto his arm with both hands now.

He's not exactly comfortable. The buttons on the shirt he's wearing under his sweater are pushing into his skin. Still, he doesn't want to move. Maybe she really is a siren after all. Daphne sighs deeply, but twitches suddenly.
"You okay?" Pete whispers. She lets go of his arm and shuffles to turn around to face him.
"You feel tense," she replies. She talks slowly, trying to stay sleepy.
"It's fine."
"No, Pete, what's up?" she pushes herself slightly away from him, to look in his eyes. She sniffs. "Not comfy?" Peter chuckles.
"How'd you know?"
"I just do," she mumbles, tugging at his sweater. He clenches his jaw. "You can take it off if you want. I don't mind."

Peter's breath hitches in his throat. She notices how he tenses up and starts to turn around again.
"I won't look, I promise," she says quickly. He immediately puts a hand on her shoulder to keep her from turning. Their eyes lock as the air leaves his lungs.
"It's okay." He shuffles away from her a little to get enough space to lift the sweater over his head. She stares intently at his movements. Still half asleep, but enjoying it nonetheless. He starts fumbling with the buttons, but his nerves make it difficult to open them. She puts her hand on his to stop him.
"Let me help," she says softly as she starts unbuttoning the shirt.

The fabric tickles against his skin as it moves around because of her hands. One by one, tantalizingly slowly, she opens up his shirt. She gasps quietly when she sees his chest. And his abs. Her fingers ghost over his skin, not really touching him, but he can feel them. He can feel her. She chuckles. "Are you flexing?" He smiles, remembering he had a similar conversation with her as Spider-Man.
"No," he lies. He swiftly takes off the shirt and drops it on the floor next to the bed. When he turns back to her, her face is already relaxed and her eyes are closed. He shuffles closer to her and she smiles as she settles her face against his chest again.
"Magnetism," she sighs. "A physical phenomenon produced by the motion of electric charge, which results in attractive and repulsive forces between objects." Peter's chest squeezes tight. He really likes her.

He closes his eyes now too, losing himself in her scent and her presence against his body.
"A+," he mumbles into her hair.
"Damn right." It's quiet for a second and Peter expects her to have fallen asleep already, until she suddenly speaks again. She says it so softly, he isn't sure if she even meant for him to hear it. "I feel so safe with you..." He tightens his embrace around her a little bit, smiling into the pillow.
"I'll always be here for you, Daph," he sighs. "I got you. Always."