Re: AMNH: Gwen & Pete
Maybe she looked pretty harmless, but Gwen Stacy was formidable in her own way and he'd learned not to underestimate her. She didn't wear a mask or fight crime (well, not as far as he knew), but Peter thought she was just as heroic as any of them-- even if he worried. A lot. But there was nothing to worry about in a darkened after-hours museum, and he laughed when she asked if he was a Maybelline commercial. Yeah, he'd totally walked into that one. "Surprise. I'm their new spokesperson," he teased. "You don't think I can pull off a hair flip? Because I so can." He gave his head a little toss, not caring that he probably looked like a total idiot; it wasn't like there was anyone else around and she'd witnessed too many dorky moments for him to start pretending now. But she never looked at him like some people did, like he was weird or lame (in a bad way). The fondness made him think of high school, how she'd smiled at him when he could barely string sentences together and stumbled over simple words. He liked to think he'd matured a little since then. Grown up. But some things never changed.
It'd taken time, definitely, for him to get used to the full range of his powers. It wasn't all climbing buildings and shooting webs, it was like he suddenly experienced the world in a whole new way. Which was cool, sure, but also different. A few years in and Peter pretty much had a handle on it now, though. Thankfully.
He figured dancing probably wasn't the main motivation behind the museum invitation, but he didn't know she had anything to tell him. If he had, well, maybe he would've tried a little harder to focus. Not that he wasn't focused, he was, but not on confessions or even talking at all. No, he was kind of caught up in other stuff, like how she swayed closer and he could feel her against him. The way her lips parted. That whisper of contact between her knuckles and his skin. It made total sense, that he was warm because of her. Something like hope flickered in his chest when she said that no, being warm wasn't a bad thing.
Maybe it didn't mean anything. She might push him away and full-out reject him, but he really, really wanted to kiss her and so those were risks he was willing to take. "Good," he whispered, unthinking, even as he leaned in and kissed her. It was warm and relatively chaste, at first, before his eyes drifted shut and he deepened it a little.