Mary Jane was doing her best to suppress her annoyance as she walked through the short but well-cared path through the garden which led to the Parker household, but it was hard. She was there for a blind date, one that she had no input in arranging. To make it even worse, it wasn't even one of her friends, however few they were in number, that arranged it but her aunt, and only because she knew the aunt of the guy she was supposed to meet. Apparently, she guaranteed that her nephew was a nice boy. For all the faults of her aunt, such as her tendency to commit to the things Mary Jane had no desire to get involved, Mary Jane liked her aunt, enough not to disappoint her by rejecting to attend something that was already confirmed, even if it had been done without her input. A couple of boring hours where she counted sheep in her mind was a small price to make her aunt happy.
Still, she would have liked to be able to feel a bit of hope about the date itself, but the experience taught her otherwise. Even the people she picked up herself for a date had a disturbingly similar pattern of action. They had a tendency to go slack-jawed at the first sight, and most didn't really come back from that, barely able to string a few words together, except a few who just assumed that they didn't have any chance with her unless they brought her self-confidence low, petering her with a range of backhanded compliments they learned from third-rate pickup artists.
It shouldn't have been a surprise for her after that many repeats, but she still occasionally caught surprised with otherwise smart and accomplished men collapsing into whiny children or vindictive assholes. A couple of times she tried dating older men, but there never been a second date with them, because all invariably assumed that a young redhead aspiring to be a model should have less brains than a walnut, some going as far as implying that they could bankroll her modeling career. A rather unsubtle attempt to treat her like a prostitute, her opinions and preferences fading as they expected to buy her time with expensive gifts or cash-filled envelopes.
Of course, she could have dressed down to obscure her beauty or tried to limit her assertiveness to be less intimidating, but she didn't. The reason was simple. She was proud of her looks and her personality, and she had no intention of hiding her true self just to massage fragile egos of the assholes she dated.
Still, what her aunt did, arranging a date with a high school student, was another extreme. Yes, he would likely be too intimidated to try taking any liberties, not to mention there would be no alcohol the muddy the event and fill his mind with an unfounded confidence. Her aunt guaranteed that she would get along with him, because he was reported to be really smart, but Mary Jane chose to convert that to a different statement, that he had above-average grades with little to no social life. Still, she decided to have a nice conversation with him before calling it off and claiming incompatibility, mostly because her aunt would never shut up otherwise.
She couldn't help but feel tempted to mess with him a bit, which was why when she rang the bell, she took a sexy pose that brought out the best qualities of her shortish purple skirt and white tight blouse. And as an added benefit, if he couldn't handle it, a fake emergency call would save her from further torture.
Less than a minute later, the door stood open, revealing a dark-haired boy that she was supposed to go to the date with. Nice, she thought a second later, while he wasn't what one call strikingly handsome, he was still decent looking, with a straight posture. Quite decent, actually, as it was just as likely that she could have gotten a pimple-faced boy with excessively sweaty palms and a sickly grin. She smirked at him, but otherwise let him ride his shock for a couple seconds. That much of allowance she granted him, as she was more than aware she wasn't the usual outcome of a family-arranged date. "Mary Jane," he whispered in a tone of clear surprise.
The expression on his face was adorable, so she decided to tease him a little. "Face it tiger…" she said with a smile on her face, unable to prevent her from needling him gently. "You just hit the jackpot."
He shook off his shock a second later, surprising her with the speed of his recovery. She was expecting something more, maybe a bit of stutter, or a glance that helplessly undecided between her legs and her cleavage. Instead, he spoke with a clear voice, his eyes firmly on hers. "I can't disagree with that statement," he said, his lips quirked into a half-smile that hinted something dangerous. A clearly practiced expression, Mary Jane decided and dismissed it. The most danger a high school student could be was to himself through excessive drinking or pointless brawling, but it probably worked wonders at the cheerleaders looking excitement, and more than happy to settle for a facsimile of it. "Peter," he said, thrusting his hand for a shake. Mary Jane reached to meet in the middle, only for him to softly grab her fingers and bring to his lips in an interesting twist. "Charmed," he whispered.
"Smooth," Mary Jane said with a chuckle, trying to laugh it off, but she had to admit, he had actually managed to decently pull it off. She would have expected it to come across either dorky or pretentious, not a decent mixture of self-depreciatingly joking and attractive. Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as she had feared. There still wouldn't be a second date of course, she had too much self-respect to be dating a high school student, but still, a less than horrible date would be a nice thing.
"So, do you want to take the tube, or prefer the bike," he said, pointing somewhere behind her with a hint of pride.
She was ready to say the bus, as she had no intention of traveling with a ridiculous moped to their date, kind of which she expected a high-school student to have. Just to be seen on it by a potential producer on something like that would doom her career. She turned in reflex to check the direction, but her lips were already parted to pick the tube. "Definitely bike," she said, her decision hijacked somewhere between brain and her lips as her eyes fell onto the bike that he was referring. "Decent machine," she said, approvingly. It wasn't at the best of conditions, clearly old, but packing a decent amount of power.
"Excellent," he said and passed the spare helmet to her. "I hope you're not afraid of a bit of speed."
"I could ask you the same, if you dare," she answered, gesturing him to pass the keys, even though she knew she would be rejected. Which was a pity because she had to sell hers to contribute to her college fund, but boys barely out of childhood were annoyingly possessive of their vehicles, not to mention their absolute belief on the women's lack of ability to drive. Which was why she was monumentally surprised when he actually threw the keys towards her with a gentle curve. Another point of his favor, especially since he didn't look pointlessly eager to please or anxious about the fate of his bike. Instead, a challenging smirk colored his lips. Mary Jane had no issues meeting with his challenge. She took her seat, making sure her skirt wouldn't fly off in the wind, flash her date as she mounted.
"Ready?" she said, feeling his arms wrapping at her belly, neither too tight like he was trying to cop a feel, nor too soft like a weakling that hovers their hand over girls' shoulders at photos. Yet another small yet impressive detail, she noted before pulling herself back. Just because she hadn't had a decent date for a year didn't mean she was going to fall for a guy just acting half decent, especially one at his age.
She decided to focus on driving instead, her heart beating faster in anticipation of feeling the rumble of engines under her. She turned the key, and the engine started to rumble without the slightest cough, sign of a well-maintained machine. "Nice sound," she said, feeling that the bike was even stronger than she first presumed. "Are you ready to blow your mind?" she shouted in a cheerful excitement.
"Big words for a little girl," he answered, his arms tightening around her waist in a suggestive manner. On the normal conditions, taking that kind of liberty in the first minutes of the date would have been enough of a reason for her to call it off, but there was a small problem. She was doing her best to suppress a surprise moan that was badgering her lips to escape, partially due to ravings of the engine she hadn't felt under her for a long time, but also due to no small part that he had been lucky enough to tease one of her sensitive points with just enough power behind it. For that, and his earlier performance in the date, she decided to give him a pass this time.
She chose to start driving, enjoying the comfortable silence. Well, not exactly silence, she corrected, as their eyes were drummed by the monstrous noise of the engine as she throttled it more than midway, much faster than what was recommended in the streets of New York. She had missed it, she decided as the lights of the city blurred around her in a beautiful trance, though it was a bit annoying that she found the warmth of his body equally comforting. The last thing she needed was to feel fond against the boy she was going to dump at the end of the date.
Unfortunately, the streets of New York was not without ugliness. This time, it materialized in the form of two jerks who decided that driving towards a biker girl was an impressive display of wit, trying to squeeze her between their car and the sidewalk, forcing her to take a sharp turn to avoid an accident. A maneuver that took all of her skills and quite a bit of luck, which unfortunately left them dangerously wobbly, much to the enjoyment of the jerks in the car. Still, it was worth it, considering it saved them from injury, likely quite serious.
It was very close to the cafe she had picked for the date, so she drove for another minute, much slower this time, before stopping in front of it, already preparing an argument against her date's subtle snipes about women drivers. Though, he managed to surprise her once more as he dismounted the bike before her and removed his helmet, revealing a picture of calmness, like he had been absolutely sure that nothing was going to happen. When she removed her own helmet, there was a warm smile on hers as well, touched by his trust.
"Nice drive," he said even as he raised his arm for her to balance herself as she dismounted the bike. Another good call from his part, as it was something she would normally found patronizing, but with her legs feeling wobbly, still under the effects of the adrenaline, she welcomed it in the manner it was offered, made easier by the fact that there was no sign of mocking on his face, but only sincerity.
It was truly a pity that there wouldn't be a second date, she thought. Still, she decided to reward him a bit for all of his efforts, so she was quite a bit less careful, not to mention slower, than she normally would as she threw her leg over the bike, giving him a fleeting view of her lacy black panties, though long enough for him to notice the slight damp line in the middle. There was no need to give him ideas after all.
His eyes fell down for a moment, devouring the sight for a moment before rising back to her eyes, only dallying for a second on her cleavage, which she enhanced a bit by a strategic press of her arms. "Shall we," he asked, presenting his arm, that annoying smirk back on his lips.
"We shall," she answered, unable to prevent her smile from widening. The date was shaping up to be much better than she had thought it would, enough for her to feel less sure about her commitment not to date a high school student. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have a second date, she thought, desperately trying not to think about how the texture of lips would feel as they devoured hers. He was sharp, handsome, and confident, not to mention he was neither condescending nor a doormat. There were worse things than a few years between a couple.
They moved inside, falling into a casual yet enticing discussion as they ordered and received their drinks, non-alcoholic owing to the fact that her date technically couldn't have one yet. "Any hobbies?" she asked as the discussion slowly moved forward from casual to personal.
"I can't call it exactly a hobby, but photography is taking a decent amount of my free time."
"Perfect," she said with a small laugh. "Maybe you could do my portfolio shoots, I'm in sore need for a new set," she added jokingly, not that she had any intention of allowing it of course. Not only that portfolio shots was too critical to be left to an amateur that didn't even call it a hobby, but also she wouldn't allow someone she was dating behind the camera. There was an interesting power dynamic between the photographer and the model that heavily favored the one behind the camera, abetted only by the utter professionalism of both sides, and she had no intention of testing that with someone she actually started to feel an emotional connection with.
"Why not," he answered with a shrug. "I can give it a couple of hours as long as we have matching free time."
"Why photography," she asked, trying to understand why he was spending money on something that he didn't spend enough time to call a hobby. She also hoped that he would give her a couple of points she could use to reject his offer, knowing that it would be a waste of time with the garbage an amateur would produce.
"It was fun at first, but doing it as a freelancer turned out to be more stressful than I had presumed. It's starting to wear me out, draining the excitement of the time I spent behind the camera," he answered. "Although, it's more of a problem with my main client rather than photos itself. That, I still enjoy. It's the selling part that is killing me."
"Client?" she asked, curious.
"Daily Bugle, Jonas Jameson in particular. A good editor and an amazing businessman, but a thoroughly unpleasant asshole to work with."
She nodded in surprise, mentally revising her initial estimation of his skills, realizing that when he said not a hobby, he was avoiding the term from the other end. Daily Bugle, for all of its annoyingly biased editorial opinion on certain issues, was one of the best newspapers in terms of visual quality. Then, she realized one thing didn't make much sense. "Why are you dealing with the chief editor though? I would have assumed he is too busy to liaison with the freelancers."
He chuckled. "You would think so, right? But he has all the time in the world to insult and belittle the people who supply him with the pictures of masked vigilantes. Especially when it came to Spider-Man, everything, including photos, always goes through him."
"Oh my god!" she suddenly exclaimed, remembering why his name sounded familiar, but in her surprise, she had lost the control of her mouth for a moment. "You're that kid that takes Spider-Man's photos!" As soon as she said it, her hands rose to her mouth in an attempt to prevent them to be heard, but it was too late, her hand fell to the side, but a deep blush continued to rise through her face. Fangirling about Spider-Man was bad, calling a date that she was starting to like quite a bit a kid was even worse. The date was over, she realized despondently, as she managed to exhaust the list of what not to in just one sentence.
"Yes, I'm that 'kid' that takes Spider-Man photos. Do you want a signature of him?" he answered, though Mary Jane was glad that he was smiling. It was a mocking smile, and his eyes flashed with a dark emotion that she failed to decipher, but a smile nevertheless. She accepted the implied admonishment without a protest. Getting teased for her about her ridiculous slip-up was not fun, but was better than being left in the table alone, her first promising date for a long while aborted midway.
"Sorry," she murmured, and he waved off casually before reaching and grabbing her hand, using his finger to draw small circles on her wrist. Another move that came a bit too quick for her tastes, but she allowed him, assuming it was a way to show possessiveness to cure his damaged ego for being called a kid. "Why do you work for them though? They hate Spider-Man, who is one of the best, most selfless heroes in the whole nation." She might have been angrier as he blamed her if it wasn't for her earlier mess. She was smart enough to not to double down ridiculously when there was still a chance of salvaging the date.
He shrugged once more. "With Jameson on the helm, they are going to write badly about him no matter what, so it's better to have charismatic pictures of him, that shows him at a good light, which is the only kind I provide Jameson with." He gestured her to lean forward, whispering. "And I find it amusingly ironic that half of the money he pays goes to Spider-Man."
Mary Jane let out a surprised laugh. She hadn't thought that Spider-Man was on the deal, but it was a good idea to arrange a deal with a photographer to maintain a semblance of control on his image, and he probably picked Peter because he saved him from some kind of danger at one point, maybe from a mugger. Still, Peter was right, that was funny. "It's shaping up to be a good date, Peter," she said sincerely as she leaned forward comfortably, her hand still in his, getting teased by his gentle massage.
"It's," he replied. "Though I need to tell you something. That might change your mood, but it would be unfair to continue without telling." She nodded, indicating him to continue. "I don't date exclusively," he simply said.
Mary Jane felt a bucket of icy water topping over her. "What do you mean, you don't date exclusively?" she repeated, though it was less of a question and more of a way of gaining time to process what he just said without exploding in anger. She had been just told that he would be two-timing her and hoped that she was okay with it.
He shrugged. "It is what it is. I can explain the reasons behind it, but I doubt that it would actually help with your anger."
She stopped for a second to clamp down in anger, and realized that her hand was still in his grasp, his fingers gently circling over his wrist. Even more annoyingly, despite her anger, she could feel aroused by his touch in a way that she never felt before, which made his statement even more annoying. She could easily imagine breaking her long-held rule and acquainting him with her bedroom at first date, making her disappointment even more clear.
But before she could answer, she was distracted by a loud noise of the explosion, then somebody stepped inside with the sound of glass breaking filled the room. A villain just stepped through the window, she realized. He was a tall man dressed in a poorly made lion costume, half red, a costume that would have looked ridiculous if she hadn't seen the source of the redness. He stepped through the window, not caring a bit about the lacerations on his skin despite the bleeding. And a glance on his face was enough to show that he didn't care about it a bit, madness shining in his eyes.
She wanted to skulk in the shadows and avoid his gaze as the chaos filled the room, but the villain managed to screw-up that plan easily."Shut up," he shouted, looking at the two children, around ten or so, who was crying in fear. Of course, his angry display only made the children cry harder. Her brain started working with burning clarity. Somebody needed to silence those children before the crazy villain decided to use a permanent way. He definitely looked crazy enough to do so. She turned towards Peter, hoping that he had an idea, as he had a confident aura around him, making her hope that he could act under pressure…
Only to see that he had escaped during the chaos. "That fucking coward," she murmured in shock as she realized he was nowhere to be seen. He had run away, not bothering to notify her, uncaring about the fate of the children that left behind. Still, even in that life and death situation, she realized that it hurt. Even with the stupid twist their discussion had taken in the end, she was still hopeful that there would be a second date after she convinced him that exclusivity with her wasn't a bad deal.
Until her date proved that he was a coward that couldn't be bothered about her life, or the life of children, if that meant a second's delay in his escape. She took a deep breath before springing into action. Lamenting about an asshole wasn't a priority right now, not when many lives, a list that included hers, were at stake.
She walked towards the children, suppressing her instincts to run towards them, not wanting the villain to see her as a threat. "What are you doing, woman," the villain shouted, his shout surprisingly similar to a lion's roar, she absentmindedly noted.
She knew that she had only one chance of convincing him, so she brought all the acting classes on the front, trying to seem as weak, as meek as possible. "I'm going to silence the children, sir, so that you don't waste your valuable time, sir," she said, keeping her eyes on the ground, her posture small.
"Good, nobody else moves," he said, and turned his attention back to outside, watching for something.
She walked next to children. "Shh, brave children," she started, trying to convince them to be silent. For a moment, she thought that she had been successful, as both children stopped. But her luck proved treacherous once more, because, for some reason, the villain chose to swing his arm in a wide gesture. An arm that was still bleeding, with a motion that sent an act of blood across the room, some it on the faces of the children. Mary Jane realized what was going to happen a moment before their mouth opened, but she wasn't fast enough to press her hands on their mouth. The cries of children filled the room once more.
Mary Jane turned towards the villain, hoping that she could gain a bit of time, but her eyes met with his, madness shining bright. With a startling realization, she understood that it was the last moment of her life. Still, not for a moment, she considered running away and leaving children to their fate, deciding to stick to her principles until the last second.
Then a red blur came to her view, and stopped in front of her, directly in villain's path. "Hi, ugly, why don't you pick someone to your size," the figure said, his tone strangely flat. Spider-Man, she thought in a sudden elation. The following seconds where he grabbed villains arm applied some kind of martial arts movement was the most beautiful sight of her life, the loud noise of breaking bone music to her ears. In principle, she didn't approve excessive violence, but as she watched Spider-Man webbed the broken villain to the ground, she was willing to make an exception for a monster that threatened the lives of children, just because he was slightly annoyed.
"Ladies and gentleman," he said after finishing tying up the villain, this time, his tone happy and jovial. More to the audience's sake, she realized as she watched people fall silent with smiles in their faces. Even the children, who were about to die moments ago, was smiling widely like they had seen the sunlight for the first time after a dark winter. "Sorry about the late arrival, but the ugly had an ever uglier friend outside. But now everything is okay, and the police are on their way."
Mary Jane watched the small miracle. The room that was about to explode into fear was filled with smiles, just by a few fun words, and the presence of a small man wearing red pajamas. He was a true hero, she realized, not just saving lives, but bringing hope with his sheer presence. "And, ladies and gentleman, please a round of applause for the hero of the moment, who put herself at risk to save the lives of two children." Mary Jane clapped as well until Spider-Man stopped in front of her, and it clicked that he was talking about her! She blushed as the crowd's voice got even louder. "And as a reward, she earned a trip to the New York skyline," he added, and the crowd started clapping even louder. Partially because they were amused, partially because they were still alive and needed to celebrate to underline that fact, she realized in a moment's insight.
But distracted by the realization, she realized that she never rejected the offer, when his arm was wrapped around her torso. She opened her mouth to say something, but his face turned, his expression mischievous, though how she was able to understand it despite the mask covering his face, she had no idea. "And don't forget folks, no one gives her description to the newspaper. She has a right to her privacy, and if she wants, she could easily talk to the newspaper herself."
With that, before she could say anything, she felt a movement. A shout escaped her mouth as she started flying, nothing to prevent her fall except just an arm wrapped around her waist. An arm stronger than steel, she realized, as New York flew under them in a blur of light. It was beautiful, thrilling, exciting… Better than any thrill ride she had ever been, be it a bike or a rollercoaster.
She tried to convince herself that her excitement had nothing with the body pressing to hers, a certain presence easily discernible, bigger than it had any right to be in a small frame like that. But as the ride continued, she slowly became acquainted with it, sometimes, hard turns forcing her to find a handle. At least, that was how she tried to convince herself, but it didn't help against the creeping blush climbing through her neck. Even without a mirror, she was sure that her skin was redder than her hair.
The journey lasted ten minutes and an eternity, too long and too quick at the same time, not helped by the absolute chaos emotion she was feeling. She was glad when he finally stopped on a rooftop, the whole skyline of New York under her feet. "So," Spider-Man said in a throaty tone that sent her shivers through her skin. "Do you want to have a ride?"
She turned, about to ask what he meant, when she realized his mask was partially removed, enough to reveal his lips. His thick, hypnotizing lips. He leaned forward, and only as their lips were about to touch it clicked her what he had meant, but before she could say anything, his lips were already above hers.