AN: All characters are 18+.
- - -
Peter missed his chance with Gwen during English Lit.
Peter chided himself. Missed, like it was an accident. It was his own fault. Couldn’t work up the nerve. He needed to have an answer ready for May and Ben by the time he got home. Lunch period was his last shot. Thankfully, he shared it with Gwen.
And there she was seated across a sea of unruly, yapping students. An angel’s face shrouded by the golden halo of her hair. She wasn’t surrounded by her friends yet. That was good. Gwen Stacy, sitting all alone.
Peter grimaced, noting how creepy that sounded even in his head. He blew air out his nose, opening and closing his fists. Superpowers couldn’t get rid of teenage jitters, it seemed.
He just needed to ask her. Simple as that. Just ask her one little question. If she said yes, he was golden. Hell, if Gwen was cool with it then he might even swing getting Liz on board with French tutoring, also.
He’d been standing there by the doors, glancing her way for the last five minutes. Every time it felt like he’d grown a spine, his feet turned into lead. What the hell was the point of the spider-bite blessing him with big, virile balls if he wasn’t going to use them?
Just go for it. Come on, man. Move.
He had to force his legs to work. One step after the other. He kept going, kept marching. Not too fast, though. That would look weird.
It took only a few seconds to put himself right by Gwen’s table, but in his mind that march had stretched on and on. By the time he was looking Gwen in the face, he almost forgot what to say.
“Hey.”
Gwen glanced up from her phone, brows furrowed - then softening once she saw him.
“Hey, Peter.” She set her phone down. “What’s up?”
She remembers my name. The thought swept through his mind, bright and buoyant. Peter had to swat it down.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Just a little sound, barely audible. Oh my God…
Inside, Peter was screaming. Ask! Just ask! Meanwhile, Gwen’s expectant look was starting to burn holes straight through him. For a moment, it felt like they were both thinking the same thing. Speak!
“I know this is a bit out of the blue, but…” Peter took every conceivable mental measure to make sure he didn’t stammer. “Can I ask you a favor?”
Gwen quirked her lips - her very soft lips - and sat back in her chair. Her eyes narrowed just a bit and a faint flicker went through her brow. Peter, meanwhile, held his breath. He braced himself for rejection… and for any number of soul-killing answers that waited behind Gwen’s perfect mouth.
“Uh… It depends on the favor.” Gwen said. She was looking at him more keenly now. She was curious.
The weight of dread vanished in an instant and Peter stood straighter. Curious was good. Very good.
“Can you tutor me?” It felt even better to get the question out in the open. “For English?”
A laugh barked up from behind him. Peter kept cool, unflinching. It wasn’t directed at him, he reminded himself. It was lunch. Friends sat together and laughed at stupid jokes. Nobody was laughing at him.
In front of him, Gwen blinked in surprise.
“Oh.” She glanced aside, like she was expecting someone to be there. Did he make her nervous? Peter’s gut sank at the thought. She looked his way again, chewing her lip. “I’m not really a tutor.”
“I just thought I’d ask, since I heard you tutored Flash…” Peter put forth, ignoring the weight in his stomach.
“Yeah, for like, a little bit.” Gwen gave a little scoff. Her brow pinched into a line. “But… aren’t you a super straight A kind of guy? Since when do you need a tutor?”
“Since my average dropped to a C.” A blunt answer. Blunt enough that Gwen’s brow shot up in shock.
“Oh. Ouch. What happened there?”
“Nothing. Just… I’ve been distracted.” Peter left it at that. Gwen Stacy didn’t need to know all the dirty details. “Now I need help.”
Again, Gwen let her eyes flicker about. To her food, to her phone, to the other tables. Was she looking for a way out? An escape from the nerd who was angling for some quality “tutoring” time. Behind Peter’s calm face, his mind was amok with thoughts of complete social doom. Flash would never let him live this down.
…On the other hand, Gwen hadn’t shot him down yet. And that look on her face, it wasn’t complete mortification. As far as Peter could tell, at least.
“I don’t have a lot of money, so I can’t pay much. But I’m good with tech and I can fix stuff.” Peter added. “So if your phone or your computer or your laptop ever breaks…”
Gwen chewed her lower lip again. They really did look so damn soft… especially popping back out. She tapped her nails against her phone case, her gaze softening some.
“My phone has been getting kinda slow and screwy…”
“Yeah. I could take a look at it.” Peter fought back a wince. He was way too quick with that offer. “If you want.”
This time, though, there wasn’t uncertainty on Gwen Stacy’s face. No unease, no awkward politeness. Instead there was a smile. A small one, but very genuine.
“I have cheer practice after school, though.” She warned him. Peter already knew that, but like with many things, he kept it to himself. “Unless you’re willing to meet up late.”
“That’s fine, too. I’m cool with pretty much anything.”
Again, Peter played it cool. As if there weren’t a million other teenage boys in all of NYC who wouldn’t have been cool with anything that came out of Gwen Stacy’s mouth.
Even more ridiculous was the expression on her face: genuine surprise.
“Really?”
“Yeah, well… My aunt and uncle said I needed to get a tutor. I don’t really have a choice… except for who my tutor should be.”
Something flickered in Gwen’s eyes then. A new look, tiny changes to her face. Almost imperceptible - but not for Peter’s new sharpened focus. That last comment of his had the cheerleader curious. Not in a bad way, judging by her sliver of a smirk. But not quite in a good way either. Peter felt frozen to the spot.
“You thought of me first?” There was a faint narrowing of her eyes. Her gaze had no sharpness, but it pierced through him anyway.
“Yeah.”
The single word tumbled out with all the grace of a plummeting rock. Peter hoped it would cave in the floor and take him with it.
Gwen’s smirk didn’t fade, not even has she pursed her lips - God - and gave a slow nod.
“Okay then.”
It took a few long, agonizing seconds before it finally clicked in Peter’s head. Then the mortification was gone, with a straight shot of excitement buzzing through his nerves.
“You’ll do it?”
“Sure.” Gwen shrugged, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “We have a test on Friday, don’t we? Might as well get started tonight.”
“Tonight?” It was a miracle he didn’t croak the word.
“Yep. Six o’ clock, after cheer practice. Meet me outside the gym?”
“Yes. Sure. Absolutely.”
Something about the way he said that amused Gwen, judging from the way her smile grew and her eyes glimmered. Somewhere along the way, Peter had turned from desperate nerd to court jester. But with Gwen looking the way she looked, an angel with bright eyes and golden hair, Peter somehow didn’t mind. He didn’t mind that at all.
“I gotta… gonna go get my lunch.” Peter gestured towards the cafeteria line, backing away.
Gwen was still smiling as she gave a little wave. She called out after him.
“Be ready to learn, Peter Parker.”
Peter - stupidly - gave a thumbs up. Inside, his heart was weightless. His guts, too.
She remembers my full name.
- - -
Sometimes excitement was a curse. The rest of the day unfolded at a glacial pace. Especially the last period with AP Physics - forced to sit there and listen to lectures on stuff he already had down pat. Not even thinking of Gwen and Liz and Sally and all the other cheerleaders flouncing around in those pleated skirts couldn’t make the seconds tick by any faster.
The final bell didn’t bring salvation, either. Cheer practice wrapped up at six, he remembered. A couple hours left to go.
The excitement might have been even worse then. There wasn’t any work to keep him halfway distracted, which meant Peter’s mind was free to run wild. A dozen longshot possibilities firing off one after another in the horny-scape that was his teenage brain. Maybe his dumb jokes would hit like cupid’s arrow or Straight-A Gwen Stacy would become smitten with his big brain? Maybe, against all odds, he’d say just the right thing and turn this tutor session into a makeout session?
A guy could dream. And Peter daydreamed so hard he almost forgot to call and give Uncle Ben the good news.
“Yeah, I’m gonna be home late.” Peter said into his phone, idly kicking at the pavement. Up above, the sky was beginning to darken. The sun was just about down. Behind him, he could faintly hear the shouting chants of the cheer team through the gym doors. “I found a tutor for English.”
“Great.” Peter could hear the relief in Uncle Ben’s voice. “Just need one for French now. Who’d you find for English?”
“Uh… Gwen. Gwen Stacy. She’s in my class. Really smart.”
There was a slight pause on Ben’s end. Peter didn’t like that. And when Ben finally spoke again, he liked his tone even less.
“Gwen, huh?”
Those two little words were loaded with many, many assumptions. The worst part of it all… Peter couldn’t really say they were wrong. But that didn’t mean he had to be in the mood for Ben’s teasing.
“Yeah.” Peter answered flatly.
“You know the point of getting a tutor is to help you study, right?”
“I know.” Peter said a bit too forcefully. “She’s smart, I told you. Top of the class.”
“Alright, alright. Why so late though? It’s almost six.”
The jitters were back. Peter shook his arms loose as he paced along the concrete path. He knew his answer wasn’t going to help his case.
“We can’t meet right after school.” Peter frowned, the rest of the words waiting on his tongue. He had to force them out. “She has cheer practice, I have to wait until after-”
“She’s a cheerleader?” This time Ben sounded impressed. Peter didn’t know if that was better or worse.
“Yeah, I mean… Yeah.”
That led to another heavy pause. Peter kept the phone pressed to his ear, shifting on his feet. Each second of silence was more unbearable than the last. Finally, he heard chuckling on the other end.
“You really are a genius, Pete. Whew.”
He knew just what kind of face Uncle Ben was making, the kind that Peter only saw when he got caught. Peter felt his cheeks darken. Which was ridiculous.
“It’s not- It’s not like that.” Peter defended. Lamely.
“Yeah, yeah. Just ribbing you, kid. Just make sure you get some actual studying done, alright? Don’t want your Aunt May scheduling another family meeting.”
Obnoxious as the teasing was, Peter couldn’t argue with that.
“No, sir.”
“Cut it with the ‘sir’, wiseguy. Have fun. But not too much fun.”
“Great, thanks, bye.” Peter hung up quickly, letting out a long sigh of relief as he shoved his phone into his pocket. The only way that conversation could have been worse was if he had it with Aunt May instead.
Peter glanced towards the gym doors. The muffled chanting and stomping had stopped, leaving a peaceful quiet in its place. On the other side of the school fence, there was the faint drone of evening traffic. He fished out his phone again and checked the time. Six o’ Five.
Any minute now. Peter took a moment to settle himself, straighten his clothes. Loose jeans, as he’d taken to wearing, and a red hoodie over a grey shirt. Backpack slung over his shoulder. Nothing fancy. Just plain. Plain was good. Unless Gwen thought plain was boring. Then it was bad.
Before his mind could go racing again, Peter heard the gym doors creak open. He whirled around. His heart jumped.
It was Gwen. Even with her figure cast in silhouette from the indoor light shining through the doorway, he could tell it was her. No other girl on the cheer team had golden hair the way she did, not even fellow blonde Sally Avril.
Gwen moved closer, coming into the dim light of sundown, and now Peter could feast his eyes on her clothing. Baby blue sweat pants, loose about the legs but snug to her hips and waist. Up top, he admired the tiny sliver of her bare belly before moving on to her plain white tank top and the open baby blue hoodie she had on over that. With her long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, her look was downright sporty. Sweetening it all was the glow she had about her skin, slightly flushed and speckled with tiny, tiny droplets. It wasn’t sweat, Peter quickly realized. Gwen had just gotten out of the shower.
Instantly, his teenage brain went to work crafting that mesmerizing scene. Gwen, stripped down to nothing, stretching her naked body under that hot, foggy spray. So mesmerizing it was that Peter almost forgot Gwen was walking right up to him.
She gave a smile and wave. Enough to snap him out of it.
“Hey, Peter.” Her voice was soft, friendly. Warm. She was happy to see him.
Peter cleared his throat. Played it cool. Just like in the cafeteria.
“Just called my uncle.” He waved his phone. “We’re good to go for whatever.”
“Great.” Gwen swiped her own phone open, tapping away a quick text. Pink nails, Peter noticed. God, even her nails are pretty. “My curfew is at nine, so we have plenty of time. I know a place a couple blocks away. It’s a cafe, nice and quiet. And they sell these delicious bagels.”
It was cute, the way she thought she had to sell him on anything.
“Lead the way.” Peter said, stepping aside. Gwen smiled - God - and moved on ahead.
He really was being polite there. Getting to eye up Gwen’s backside all snug in those baby blue sweats, that was just the icing on the cake. Baby blue icing… on a very mouthwatering cake.
- - -
The cafe was nice and cozy, just like Gwen said. Though despite the warm colors and lighting it still had that sleek, mainstream, almost corporate air about it. The way-overpriced menu didn’t help. Peter valued his dignity - and his wallet - too much to shell out that kind of cash on a measly bagel.
It was no issue, though. He’d grab a bite back home. Just listening to Gwen talk was all fine with him.
She’d picked out a booth for them near the back, away from the other customers. Nice and quiet. And just out of the way enough to be private. Nothing to distract him from Gwen’s voice, Gwen’s lips, Gwen’s rosy cheeks and silky hair…
Peter wasn’t stupid about his ogling, though. Discretion was the game and he’d learned long ago how to play it damn well. Fairly easy, now that they were actually going along with the tutoring. That was a mark in his favor. The goal wasn’t to learn, just to focus.
“...And that’s how it ties back into this theme of class disparity. Where Old Money looks down on New Money, you know? Because even though Gatsby is super rich, lives in this big mansion, and throws all these huge parties, he’s not really upper class like the other rich folks. So to a guy like Tom Buchanan it’s like Gatsby’s wealth doesn’t even count. You following me?” Gwen looked up from her notebook, idly tapping the tabletop with her pen.
“Yeah, Gatsby’s an outsider.” Peter nodded along. “All that money and he still can’t buy his way into the club.”
Peter didn’t know much about being rich, but he sure as hell knew about getting blocked at the door. There was a lot to sympathize with in Jay Gatsby - especially with the mooning over a girl deal. Peter stifled a frown. It felt like a bad omen. Jay didn’t get the girl, Peter remembered, only a bullet.
Gwen kept on, not noticing Peter’s silent contemplation.
“Right. So the whole book becomes sort of like a commentary on the American Dream, too. Like a pointed, skewering sort of commentary. Gatsby made it… but not really.”
“It’s just a mirage.” Peter put forth. “With wealth, with class, with Daisy, Gatsby is just chasing an ideal. A dream. None of it is real. Pretty negative view of things, to be honest.”
“Exactly.” Gwen snorted. The conversation lulled then and in that moment of quiet, she took on a new look. Her eyes narrowed some as she glanced his way. “Are you sure you need a tutor? Sounds like you have a pretty good handle on this.”
Peter shuffled in his cushioned seat. It was a good thing they were apart from the other customers - the less people who saw his cheeks going red, the better.
“Well… The main problem with my grades is that I need focus. That’s what my aunt and uncle said.”
Gwen crossed her arms, sitting back. Regarding him.
“Huh.” She pursed her lips in the way that always drove Peter up the wall. “You seem pretty focused to me.”
“I try to be.”
Regarding him morphed into studying him. Reading him like he was a book. Only Peter Parker’s themes were clear and obvious, stamped in bold lettering all over his face… and down in his pants. Very bold down there, in size 20 font. Peter was suddenly very grateful for the table between them.
Gwen’s blue eyes were sharp just like her mind. She was no ditzy blonde. Smart, perceptive, ambitious - nothing slipped by this girl. Not even a teen boy’s ulterior motives. She opened her mouth to say something… but whatever it was died in her throat as her phone lit up and caught her eye.
“Wow.” She snatched it up, tapped open a text. “We talked for a long time.”
Peter took a look at his own phone. Eight forty-five. Peter’s eyebrows shot up. Over two hours of just talking and it went by like a breeze.
“Oh, damn. Do you have enough time to get home?” He asked Gwen. She was already gathering up her things, shuffling her notebooks back into her bag.
“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll just make it.”
Peter felt that weight in his gut again. Felt his hands and feet turning to stone. No point in hesitating now, he knew. Not when she had him pegged fair and square.
“Do you want me to walk you there?” He tried.
Gwen gave him a look… but still she smiled. Not a nasty smile or a sympathetic smile, like he was some poor little puppy who was trying so, so hard. This smile was different. Peter couldn’t quite tell what it meant. He only knew he liked the look of it, liked the shine she had in her eye. And he knew he wanted to see it again.
“That’s sweet.” Gwen finally answered as she slid out of the booth. “But don’t worry about me. I can call an uber.”
“Yeah. That makes sense.”
Gwen slung her backpack over her shoulder, glancing towards the front of the cafe then back to Peter. She looked thoughtful now, mulling over what to say next. Then…
“Maybe you can be my hero another time.”
Peter blinked. He heard her just fine. But what did that mean?
“Uh…”
“This was fun. Really.” Gwen continued on, as if she didn’t just short-circuit his brain. “You make a better pupil than Flash.”
“Thanks.” Peter coughed. “Not a high bar to clear.”
He winced openly. But when he met Gwen’s eyes again, they glimmered with amusement.
“Sorry. That was rude.” He said.
“I won’t tell him if you don’t. Same time tomorrow?”
Suddenly, Peter thought back to those old-timey cartoons, with the scrappy wolf that saw a pretty girl-dog and went stiff as a plank-board, with bulging eyes and steam coming out of his ears.
“Yes. Yeah, absolutely.” He forced his body to settle. He had to be cool. He gave her a thumbs up. Why thumbs up? What the hell was the matter with him? “Looking forward to it.”
Gwen said nothing, only giving him a smirk. It was until she was walking - strutting - away that Peter realized what that sounded like. Looking forward to it? Yeah, I’ll be you are. Perv.
It wasn’t all bad, of course. He had the lovely vision of Gwen walking off. Taut cheerleader butt all snug in those sweats, hips going side to side. Not exaggerated, but subtle. Just enough motion in the softness of her young, nubile body to tease. Yes, those sweatpants were nice. Very, very nice.
Plus, there was the real prize. Peter had another tutoring session locked down. Which meant she wanted to do this again. Gwen Stacy wanted to see him again.
The blonde angel was through the cafe doors now. Out of sight. But not out of mind. He’d take those hips and legs with him all the way to his bedroom. And into the shower. The bulge tenting his pants was already demanding such from him.
“Parker,” Peter muttered to himself, sinking back into the booth. “You’re an evil genius.”