The station was cold and dull. Your legs swung as you sat on the bench, staring at the floor. The jail cell bars locked you away from human contact of the officer sitting on his desk doing paperwork. You really weren't the kind of person to go and get arrested but here you are, past eleven and alone after punching someone in the face.

"Can I have my phone call, please?" You ask, looking over to the desk.

The officer looks to the pay phone where someone else who'd been arrested before you was just hanging up. "Yeah, hold on." He says calmly, finishing up whatever you'd pulled him away from.

Once done, he gets up and unlocks your cell, allowing you out. He leads you to the payphone, inserting the change and allowing you to dial the number you happened to actually know by heart. It rings a few times before it's answered.

"Hello?" Peter's voice comes through remarkably confused.

"Peter?" You ask.

"Yeah? Y/n?"

"Yeah, um, can you come bail me out?" You ask hesitatingly.

"What?" Peter nearly yells.

"Please and please don't tell my parents, okay? They'll totally flip their shit and probably kick me out or something. I'll pay you back, I promise."

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Which station?" Peter asks as you hear him rummaging around in the background.

"The one around 34th street."

"I'll be there soon." Peter says before the line goes dead.

You hang up the phone and the officer leads you back to your cell before going back to his desk.

"Your eye okay?" He asks.

"Yeah." You nod, taking your seat.

"You start feeling dizzy or nauseous, just say something. Don't want you passing out or anything."

"Will do." You nod again, not really wanting to talk despite the officer actually being nice and just doing his job.

Twenty minutes of you swinging your legs back and forth went by before Peter finally came. Your eyes fell on him as he said he was there to bail you out. The officer behind the desk got all the paperwork and had Peter sign once his ID was taken. Once everything was taken care of, the officer allowed you out of the cell and informed you that you'd have a court date and everything was in the paperwork but to expect more to come in the mail within the next few days.

You and Peter made your way out of the station, not a single word said between the two of you until you reached May's car. You assumed Peter told May and she allowed him to take the car to come and get you since she was nowhere in sight.

"Thanks for coming." You say softly.

"Ye-yeah, yeah. I'll always come." Peter says as he takes his hoodie off and wraps it around your shoulders, noticing you shivering against the cold New York air. "Are you okay?" Peter asks as you stand against the passenger side of the car.

"Fine." You shrug a shoulder, holding his hoodie close to you.

"Your eye is bruised." Peter's brows furrow with hurt and worry.

"He got one good punch in is all."

"Y/n, wh-what the hell happened?" Peter asks as he tosses his hands out, you dodging his eyes.

"Can-can I just stay...with you tonight?"

Peter licks his lips and nods. "Yeah, we'll, uh, we'll get home and you tell me, okay?"

"Yeah." You answer plainly as you open the car door and get in.

The ride to Peter's apartment is silent, not even the music playing in the background. The streetlights dazed by you while snow started to fall from the sky, decorating the already snowing roads from the night before. Salt trucks passed by, likely making more noise than doing actual good with the dropping temperatures. Your face illuminated with a reply from your mom, saying it was fine you stayed at Peter's for the night.

You reach Peter's apartment and he leads up to his apartment. He unlocks the door and May is sitting in the living room, likely waiting for the two fo you to return. She immediately gets up and reaches you.

"What happened?" May rushes. "Are you okay? We should probably get some ice on that eye." May says as she walks off the kitchen, you and Peter following her.

"It's fine, really." You shake your head.

"You were arrested. I don't call that fine." May retorts.

"Yeah," You nod with shame. "Still a chance the charges will be dropped."

"That's not at all what I meant." May says as she hands you a bag of ice wrapped in a towel.

"May, is it okay if y/n stays? Their parents are gonna flip." Peter butts in before you could say anything.

May looks you over with furrowed brows and sad eyes. "Yeah, that's fine. I wanna hear what happened in the morning, alright?"

"Okay." You nod and send her a soft smile while putting the ice to your eye.

Peter leads you to his room, shutting the door behind the two of you before offering you pajamas. You'd been friends forever so sharing his clothes and sleeping over was nothing out of the norm. You spent just as much time at his apartment as you did your own house. You make Peter turn around while you change and get comfortable. A Star Wars t-shirt hung loose on your torso and grey sweatpants hugged your hips.

"So, you, uh, you wanna tell me what happened?" Peter asks as you sit beside him on the bed.

"I do, I just, ya know. I don't know." You shake your head.

"You can tell me." Peter nudges you with his elbow.

"Ugh." You groan and lay back, moving the ice back to your eye. "I don't know."

"Come onnnnn." Peter says, turning to face you.

"You can't tell anyone, alright?" You peak at him from under the towel.

"I won't." Peter reassures.

"So, I was at this club and I was gonna leave ya know? Cause it's getting late and my parents still don't like me out super late. So, I'm walking out and this douchey guy was standing outside, basically like he was waiting to just harass everyone that walks out and you know, that bullshit called 'freedom of speech' and he wasn't technically on the property. So, fuck it, yeah?" You ramble as Peter watches you, growing more confused as he waits for you to get to the point. "So, he starts making comments, ya know? Like as I'm just walking, trying to mind my own damn business. And ya know? Like. Ugh."

"What'd he say?" Peter's voice holds less confusion with more concern and the smallest touch of what could be annoyance.

"You know how like, decent human beings don't like slurs?" Peter nods. "He used one and I didn't like it so I punched him and he punched back and some passing people saw it and called the cops."

"What'd they call you?" Peter's voice goes soft as his eyes narrow.

"I don't like the word." You mumble. "It was a gay slur."

Peter's eyes widen as he shakes his head. "W-what?"

"Yeah, was leaving a club and they were having an LGBT night so I went. So, by the way, I don't think I'm straight. I don't know." You confess and completely avoid looking at him, rather keeping your stare at the bunk above you.

"Not straight?" Peter questions.

"Yeah, I don't know, ya know? Like you're attractive obviously." Peter's cheeks start glowing red with your words. "But so is MJ and Ned. And a lot of celebrities, guys, girls, whatever. But I don't know if like that means anything or, ya know?" You sigh, trying to explain yourself.

"Uh, I mean," Peter rubs the back of his neck. "I don't think you have to figure it out now, like if you don't want to and it doesn't matter. Who cares who you like and who you don't?" You remove the ice from your eye and stare at him with a quirked. "Like, I mean, you're still you." Peter chuckles.

"I mean, I don't know if I'm not straight, like for sure? I guess?"

"Okay." Peter says nonchalantly. "There's websites and stuff with that information and I know there's community clubs and everything. I'll go with you if you want to go tp one."

"Really?" You sit up on your elbows with Peter's words.

"Y-yeah." Peter shrugs. "Of course." Peter gives you a soft smile. "But, next time, instead of punching someone, can you call me so I can just web them up myself?"

You toss your head back with laughter. "Trust me, I'll totally be calling you from now on. My eye fucking hurts but at least I can cross getting arrested off my bucket list."

Peter laughs and tosses his pillow at you. "Go to bed."