CHAPTER 20
THOROUGHLY BUZZED

SLOANE WAS TRYING to write – emphasis on trying – when her phone began to ring that afternoon. She had been staring at the snowflakes falling from the cloudy sky, and as her phone vibrated beside her leg, she couldn't help but jump. Memories of her chase with the dark figure from a few nights ago haunted her, blinding her vision for a short second. She was lucky that Spider-Man had gotten there just in time, or ... she didn't want to think about what would've happened. But she knew she needed to include it in her article, no matter how distressing it was to recall that night.

Sometimes, when the penthouse was so silent, she swore she could hear the figure's footsteps again.

At the very least, a disturbing situation granted her the prime opportunity of kissing a masked hero that frequented most of her wet dreams. She'd been thinking about that kiss for days after – how he tasted, how his five o'clock shadow scratched against her face – and the memory wasn't going away anytime soon. She thought about it all the time – when she was by herself, and she would smile, or when she touched herself late at night, dreaming of his fingers inside of her instead of her own.

Sloane blinked, reminding herself that it was so not the time to get turned on when ... She looked down. Peter was calling her? She accepted the call and brought the phone up to her ear. "What have you found?" She asked immediately, her voice a dull shrill as she waited for whatever terrible news he had on the case.

"Found? What – oh, I'm not calling you about your article, Sloane." Peter chuckled awkwardly, and it reminded her of the last time they saw each other at Thanksgiving. "Sorry to alarm you."

Sloane rubbed at her forehead. "No, no. It's not you. I just ... some shit happened a few nights ago and I've been kinda rattled ever since."

"Oh – um – yeah, Spider-Man – uh – told me about it." He cleared his throat. "That must've been really scary."

"Scary is an understatement." She set her phone between her ear and her shoulder, staring at the paragraph she'd just written in her Word document. "So, what are you calling about? If it's about that night, I don't really want to rehash any details –"

"No, of course not. I just wanted to ..." He paused, gathering his words. "Well, I guess, see if I could lift your spirits a little. Are you busy tonight?"

"Not particularly. What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking we could get a drink. Maybe a pizza."

Sloane blinked, remembering his proposal on Thanksgiving night as they waited for his Uber. She had told him to not ruin a good thing, so why was the offer still so ... tempting? The last thing she ever expected was for Peter Parker to tempt her, but he was so sweet and cute with his glasses and old watch. And she liked the way he kept his scruff trimmed and the way he messily styled his hair and –

Oh, god. She had a crush on Peter Parker.

"To clarify, I am asking you on a date. Or it doesn't have to be. It could just be two friends getting a drink. But if you want it to be a date, I ..."

His voice faded away as she chewed on her bottom lip. Maybe it would be good for her to accept his invite then, allow herself to be tempted a little. But would it be a little wrong to go on a date with Peter just after kissing Spider-Man?

No. No. She wasn't tied down to anyone, especially not to a masked vigilante.

"... So, yeah, if you don't wanna go, I –"

"Peter. Peter. You can stop rambling now."

"Oh, sorry. I wasn't sure when to stop."

"I ..." She scratched the top of her head, and after a moment, relented to her innermost temptations. "So where do you want to have that drink, Parker?"

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Peter asked her to meet him at his place in an hour, and for some reason, that seemed too short of a time. Sloane was flailing, spending at least twenty minutes picking out what to wear. Why are you overthinking this? Her conscious chastised, and she looked from one sweater to the other. It's just a date. With Peter Parker. No need to sweat it. So why did her pits feel like they were swimming in sweat?

She needed to chill out. This was just Peter Parker. She didn't need to go overboard for him. She yanked on an oversized, white wool sweater and leggings. After brushing her hair into loose waves down her back, she pulled on some warm socks over her leggings and then slid on her chunky winter boots. This is safe, she told herself while looking in the mirror. Putting on her favorite parka, Sloane sprinted out of the penthouse before she could change her clothes again. She was so fast that she didn't even hear Sabrina call her name from the kitchen.

Peter had sent her the address to his building in a text, and she gave it to the taxi driver as soon as she was able to hail one. She was already running late, and it was rush hour, and – oh, god, why was it taking so long to get to Forest Hills?

After a long thirty minutes in the back of a putrid taxi cab, the driver pulled up on the side of a brick apartment building with frozen moss covering its side. Sloane handed the driver some cash and stepped out, taking in the cigarette butts littering the ground. Good ol' New York. Even someone who worked in a lab could still live in the epicenter of trash and dog shit.

He buzzed her in as soon as she got to the entrance, as if he were waiting by his own door. Sloane looked down at his text again. Third floor. Apartment 3F. She trudged up the stairs, attempting not to slip on the wet spots left by other tenets. Once she reached the third floor, she scanned each door before halting in front of 3F. There was a mat in front of the door that said, THIS IS NOT THE DOOR YOU'RE LOOKING FOR, in the classic Star Wars font. Sloane laughed under her breath and knocked on the door.

She only got one knock in before the door was flying open, revealing Peter Parker in his usual perfectly disheveled state. His hair was just the right kind of messy, his facial hair trimmed only slightly, and he wore his classic straight jeans, flannel, and an old Fleetwood Mac tee.

"Hi," he chirped, lips pulling into an excited grin.

"Hey," she replied. "Waiting for me at the door or something?"

Peter scoffed and grabbed his coat. "Was it that obvious?"

"Maybe a little," she quipped, standing on her tiptoes to see what his apartment looked like from over his shoulder. He shut the door before she could get a good look though. She arched a brow. "Your apartment messy? Or are you just hiding a deep dark secret?"

"No, I ..." He scratched the back of his neck. "Listen, a man's apartment is a very personal thing." He locked the door with his key and turned to her. "And it's messy."

Sloane chuckled, allowing him to lead her out of the building and into the unknown. She didn't ask where he planned on taking her. She simply let him ramble on and on about his work day as they walked across the street. He made them take a hard right at a streetlight, and then they walked half a block to a joint with a giant LED pizza sign in front of it.

The sign looked familiar, but it wasn't until she walked inside that Sloane fully recognized it. Sully's Pizza Diner. The maple wood bar top still looked the same, if not slightly aged. The fifties-vintage booths, however, were ripped and featured various duct tape patches in the leather. The kitchen only had one pizza chef back there rather than the several that used to frequent this joint. Christmas lights were hung across the ceiling and a small, plastic tree was decorated in the corner. At the bar top, candy and old soda bottles lined the counter. Two baskets of candy were advertised as free to take, but Sloane found it most interesting that the basket of Jawbreakers was emptier than the one filled with Starburst.

Sully's was the place to be in high school, but it looked like it was struggling now. Even the hostess was struggling to walk over to them. Jeez, Sloane thought, that must be the same woman that worked here when I used to come around. She had acquired a few more wrinkles over the years, and her hair was so white that it was almost blue.

The hostess, Janet, sat them down at a high-top table near the corner of the bar. Sloane looked down at her menu. It hadn't changed at all. Suddenly, her stomach was rumbling at the thought of one of Sully's famous pepperoni and meatball pizzas.

Once they had their drinks, Sloane took a swig from her beer and said, "I remember coming here back in the day. It was always so packed." Her eyes scanned the empty seats, besides the few drunks that planted themselves at the bar. She turned back to him. "Did you used to come here?"

Peter winced after taking a sip from his bottle, and then shook his head. "Not really. This was a cool kids' spot only."

"Oh, c'mon. I saw D&D club sit here once, and chess club too."

"Yeah, once. Flash probably beat them up in the alley behind this place, so they would never come back." He huffed, and then chuckled to himself. "You know, Flash actually threatened to hit me if I ever stepped foot in here when he was around. All I was doing was picking up my aunt's pizza!"

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The memory was so clear then. Sloane had been sitting in her favorite booth at Sully's, her friends scattered amongst the cushions. Flash had his arm around Julia and one of his friends was slowly inching towards Amanda. They were all laughing about something dumb one of the boys said, and Sloane was only laughing along because she was tipsy. Of course, she'd been the one to bring the vodka nips to mix with everyone's cups of Sprite. She sipped her straw with a big smile, her face already red from the alcohol.

The bell by the door rang, and they all looked up to see Peter Parker walk in. He strode up to the hostess, a petite woman with dark, greying hair, and said, "Picking up for May Parker."

The hostess held up her finger. "Just one minute, dear," she said before heading towards the kitchen.

Peter adjusted his glasses, turning in the direction of Sloane's booth all of a sudden. This was the first time she'd seen him outside of school, other than at her house. He had come over for a few tutoring sessions recently and her math grade had already gone up half a letter. All of her friends were looking away from Peter, rolling their eyes. But Flash was still watching him closely.

Sloane waved to him while no one was looking. And he smiled.

Just as Peter raised his hand to wave back, Flash jumped from his seat and stomped over to him. He was already yelling at him, telling Peter that he'd be "dead meat" if he ever saw him in Sully's again. Even in her drunken state, Sloane knew it was time to hold her friend's boyfriend back. She had promised Peter, and it was already going to shit.

Flash was going to make this all the more hard.

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Sloane rubbed at her eyes as their food was placed in front of them. Her memories seemed to be resurfacing in full force since she arrived in Queens. This place brought back all the memories she buried so deep inside her brain, the things she blanketed with alcohol over many years. Her entire teenage years had been a nightmare after her dad died. They were the last thing she wanted to remember. But being back in Queens, around her mother ... there was no stopping them now.

The pizza at Sully's hadn't changed. Sloane smiled big as they dug into a large pepperoni and meatball pizza. They still made the meatballs by hand and the sauce was still the tiniest bit spicy, just like when she was younger. Peter picked the meatballs off his slices, complaining that he'd never been a "meatball person," so Sloane stole them off his plate. She wouldn't let something so precious go to waste.

"So," she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin, "you really didn't come here again after that thing with Flash? Sully's was practically famous when we were teenagers."

Peter shook his head. "Not when Flash was around, but I came here once or twice. I think once on a date."

Sloane raised a brow. "You take all your dates here then?"

"Only when the guy who harassed me in high school isn't here."

She chuckled and took another bite of her pizza. After washing it down with her beer, she asked, "Who was that girl you dated in high school again? Gwen?" Sloane was looking down at her plate, completely unaware that Peter had suddenly tensed up. "Did you take her here before ..."

Sloane lifted her head, and the words died on her tongue. Peter ran a hand through his hair and began bouncing his leg, unable to utter a word. Sloane licked her lips. Why the fuck did she say that? Sometimes the journalist within her just poured out and couldn't be silenced. She shook her head at herself and said, "Fuck, I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. It was insensitive –"

"No, no. It's just –" He paused, gathering himself as Sloane stared at him with wide eyes. "No, I never took her here." Grabbing another slice, Peter plastered on his best fake smile. "So feel lucky, Bernstein."

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A few bar hops and several drinks later, Peter and Sloane were thoroughly buzzed. They were giggling about the stupidest things, gushing about each other's work. Peter couldn't stop himself from sharing memories about Sloane that she forgot. Knowing that there was one person in the world that didn't view her as a fuck-up from birth was comforting in this state of mind.

They stumbled through the doors of the Rosewell, and then into the elevator, holding onto each other for support. Leaning against the wall as the elevator trailed up and up, Sloane pointed out that Peter had a bit of pizza sauce on his chin the whole way home. He tried licking it off, and Sloane couldn't help but focus on his tongue, what it would feel like to be tangled with hers –

God dammit, she thought. The way she looked at Peter Parker wasn't so innocent anymore.

The elevator dinged and opened up to the foyer of the penthouse. Sloane could just about hear the living room TV on, so she shut the elevator door immediately, sealing them inside the closed space. She leaned onto the door now, and he followed suit. The elevator was so quiet, and he was so close that she could smell his favorite Irish Spring soap. Pursing her lips, she remarked, "I would – um ... invite you in, but ... my mother is probably up right now."

Sloane's eyes were half-closed, and his were too, but they could still see each other so clearly, feel each other's body heat through their clothes. Each word that tumbled out of her mouth felt like smoke. Time moved so slowly. She could practically feel the alcohol going to her head.

Peter laughed, "That's okay." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't kiss on the first date anyway."

She grabbed his hand all of a sudden, relishing the warmth that it provided to her cold fingers. "Peter?"

His face moved closer. "Yeah?"

"I think you might be one of the best people I've ever met." She smiled big and closed her eyes briefly, his breath fanning her cheeks. "And I'm sorry for not noticing that sooner."

Peter paused, and then reached up to graze his warm fingers across her flushed cheekbone. Sloane leaned into his caress. His touch radiated sparks within her. It was the same kind of electricity as when Spider-Man touched her, but ... it was always different with Peter. It wasn't just lust; it was pure. It was more than anything. And she found that she enjoyed touch so much more when it didn't come from a man behind a mask.

Sloane looked at him hazily. "Do I really have to beg you to kiss me, Parker?" She raised one hand in surrender. "My relationship with Spider-Man is strictly a working partnership. You have nothing to worry about. Swear."

He chuckled low, as if he knew something she didn't. The sound vibrated through her body, shooting straight into her core. "Drunk friends shouldn't kiss each other."

Now she was moving closer, so close that their lips were inches away. "I don't think we're just friends anymore, Peter."

He licked at his lips, hesitating, not knowing what to do with her being so close. She batted her eyelashes, waiting for him to go in for the kill. Her hand squeezed his. His fingers lingered by her cheek.

Alas, Peter was as gentlemanly as can be.

He pressed the button for the elevator doors to open and pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead. Brushing little wisps of hair behind her ear, he said, "Goodnight, Sloane."

She huffed, and then reached up to finally wipe the splotch of sauce from his chin. "You're a real tease, you know that?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: peter is such a tease 😑😑 hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!!!