I’m Not Becoming Spider-Man - Chapter 41: Little Peter's Narrow Escape (Patreon)

"Me?" Peter smiled. "Do you want to hear something nice, or the unpleasant truth?"

"There's an unpleasant truth?"

"The truth can sting. You won't enjoy what I'm about to say, and nobody likes being told something they don't want to hear."

"Uh, all right... But I really do want to know what you think."

"A crow. A little crow," Peter answered without hesitation.

"Huh?"

"You'll have to figure out what that means yourself," Peter told her. "You've got it pretty good, Gwen. Maybe you should talk with your father more often."

"Could you be a little clearer?"

"Then you'd only be upset with me. Hey, haven't you finished chopping that onion yet?" Peter had already prepared the stew. When he turned around, Gwen was still standing there with the onion untouched.

"Oh! I'm doing it now!" The moment Gwen started cutting, the onion made her eyes burn and water. She squeezed them shut, her hand slipped, and a sharp pain shot through her finger. "Ow!"

Peter stared at her in silence. He set the knife aside and held her hand under the faucet to rinse the cut. Then he fetched the first-aid kit, cleaned and dried her finger, and put on a Band-Aid. "It's shallow. Leave that on for now. If anything seems wrong tomorrow, I'll have another look."

"Uh... Okay."

"There. We've talked about everything, so try not to dwell on it. This isn't your fault, Gwen. Trust me, I'll take care of it. Go relax, and send Thompson back in here, would you? I still need someone to help me cook."

"Okay, okay." Gwen hesitated before adding, "But Peter, you shouldn't keep everything to yourself either. You can talk to me. I promise I won't tell anyone."

"..."

After a pause, Peter said, "And that's exactly why I called you a little crow, Gwen."

"Because I'm smart...?"

"See? What did I tell you?" Peter sent her away to enjoy herself and stop interrupting his cooking.

When Gwen left the kitchen, she found Thompson by himself. He didn't dare join the girls, and Harley had gone back to her room, so he was awkwardly tossing a little ball up and down to pass the time.

"Flash, Peter needs you." Gwen pointed toward the kitchen.

"Ha! I knew it. Leave this kind of work to me, Gwen."

"Uh, sure. You're definitely the right person."

Watching Thompson stride into the kitchen with his spirits restored, Gwen returned to her thoughts.

Mary Jane was a little redheaded tiger. Thompson was a red panda. Harley was a baby kangaroo. And she was a very! Clever! Crow!

But what sort of animal was Peter...?

...

The gathering went wonderfully. Peter had cooked a generous dinner, and everyone ate their fill and had a great time.

After driving Hardy and Cindy home, Peter noticed that Quentina still had her door open and was busy arranging her things. He thought about it, went back upstairs, and brought down some food.

He tapped on the doorframe. "Hey there."

"Oh, Peter. It's you. Um... Is something wrong?" Quentina asked nervously.

"Not at all. Have you eaten dinner?"

"Not yet. I was going to get something in a little while."

"Here. We had some food left over from our party. You can just warm it up. Sorry, we don't have any alcohol to go with it."

"That's fine. I don't drink anyway... Thank you." Quentina relaxed. For a moment, she'd thought he'd come to collect the rent.

After going through her finances, she'd realized she didn't have quite as much money as she'd thought.

She could cover one month's rent. Paying another month in advance, though, would be difficult.

Apartments in this area were expensive. Harley had given her friends a break on the rent, but Quentina was a regular tenant paying the normal rate.

Still, she couldn't bear to give this place up. Compared with the places she'd lived before, a proper apartment was a dream. Who knew whether she'd be able to find somewhere else willing to take her?

She had agreed to the terms too quickly, but she hadn't had a better choice.

"Um... Peter, do you have a moment?" Quentina asked suddenly.

"Sure. What's wrong? Is something the matter with the apartment?"

"Y-yes. There's something wrong... in the bedroom." Quentina drew a deep breath, as if she'd finally made up her mind.

"All right, I'll take a look. If there's a problem, you can always switch rooms. The one next door is vacant too."

Quentina led him to the master bedroom, and Peter followed.

He glanced around the room. The bed was already made. "So what's the problem, Miss Beck?"

"The problem... is right here." Blushing, Quentina clicked the bedroom door shut and locked it.

Then she pulled off her sweater and shirt. Peter's eyes went wide.

"W-wait, Miss Beck. We can talk about this!" he protested.

"No, Peter. I need you to hold me first. Then we can have a proper talk, okay?" She needed to run him over like a truck before he figured out what was happening and dodged out of the way.

"Hold on! Stop undressing! I'm still a kid!"

"Don't say things like that! You're getting me even more excited!" Quentina cried.

Truthfully, she thought Peter was rather handsome. He was pleasant to talk to, and he'd gone out of his way to help her get settled into the apartment.

Perhaps she was just his type.

"Miss Beck! There's already someone I like!"

Quentina froze, and Peter finally managed to breathe again.

"That's all right. She'll never know..." But after a brief pause, Quentina began removing the rest of her clothes, sounding almost excited.

As her clothes slipped away, the narration pictured her as a warrior charging at Peter on a great horse with a lance in hand.

"Quentina Beck! Stop!" Peter shouted. Then something suddenly clicked in his mind.

Wait. That name...

There were differences, of course, but he couldn't be remembering it wrong. "Mysterio?!"

"W-what?"

"Nothing!" Peter used her moment of confusion to push her onto the bed. Quentina tried to resist, only to discover she was no match for him.

She wasn't even as strong as a high school student.

Years of office work had left her out of shape. Her stomach didn't look big, but when he pinched it, all he felt was a little soft fat. She barely had any strength.

Even Peter hadn't expected Quentina to be so helpless.

If she was that weak, she could've said so from the start!

She'd given him such a fright that, for a moment, he'd thought his virginity was in serious danger.