I’m Not Becoming Spider-Man - Chapter 42: Gay! (Patreon)

"So you couldn't afford the rent and thought you'd pay me some other way?" Peter asked, folding his arms as he confirmed what had happened.

Quentina was on the bed, her hands tied by Peter and a blanket covering her.

"I really... don't have enough money, Peter. I could do something for you every day..."

"Why didn't you just tell us you were having trouble?" Peter asked.

Her face burned. She had actually planted a camera, hoping to record something she could use against him before deciding what to do next. Her plan had failed completely.

If he discovered she was broke and threw her out, she would have nowhere to go.

So she'd intended to get some leverage first and work out the rest later.

Besides, she'd already considered offering herself in exchange for more time.

"Fine. Paying for one month is okay, but you'll have to make up the difference next month. Deal?" Peter said.

"Uh, sure... But you really don't need to..."

"No. I really do have a girlfriend," Peter insisted.

"You're so innocent, Peter."

"Don't say that. Having experience isn't automatically a good thing."

Quentina blushed. She didn't have any experience herself. If she did, her plan wouldn't have been such a mess.

"I gave you my phone number, didn't I? If something goes wrong, call me. If I don't pick up, send a text," Peter explained. "I might be in class or busy with something else."

"You're adorable, Peter."

"..." Peter looked at her with open disgust, as though she were a sow concerned with nothing but breeding. "Are you listening to a word I'm saying, Miss Beck?"

"All right, all right. I promise I'll pay everything I owe next month."

"Good luck. I won't tell anyone about tonight, and I'd appreciate it if you kept quiet too. It wouldn't do either of us any favors if people found out," Peter said. "Especially if you've got a boyfriend or something..."

"I don't! I don't have a boyfriend!"

"Okay. You don't have a boyfriend." He sighed. "Then work hard. Tomorrow can be better than today, so keep your chin up, all right, Miss Beck?"

"Mm-hmm." Quentina nodded so eagerly she looked like a chick pecking at grain.

Peter untied her, reminded her once again that she didn't have to resort to anything like that, and went home.

"Well, at least the rent's taken care of for this month." Quentina finally relaxed, though she gave herself a doubtful little shake. Was she really so unattractive?

How else could she fail to charm even a kid?

The door suddenly opened again. "Oh, one more thing, Miss Beck. You have a great figure. Don't be insecure about it." Peter closed the door and left for good.

"..." Quentina's cheeks flushed.

Perhaps Peter really was a pretty decent boy after all.

...

Peter had finally escaped that terrifying truck barreling toward him.

For a moment he'd thought he'd be flattened. Sure, he had been tempted, but then he'd remembered how terrible the food at juvenile detention was supposed to be.

He barely knew anything about this woman. If he let his hormones make his decisions, he could end up in an enormous mess.

And there was something else.

Wasn't that woman Mysterio?

The name was too close to be a coincidence. And she'd listed special-effects work on her rental application...

But why was Mysterio a woman? Was this really a universe like Spider-Gwen's?

And if it was, when was he supposed to meet a horrible end?

Peter held his head as increasingly unpleasant possibilities occurred to him.

If Mysterio was a woman, could other villains have changed sex too?

A female Doctor Octopus, for example...

He hadn't investigated Dr. Connors or Dr. Otto yet. For all he knew, both could be women in this world.

Wait. What if Harley was a girl too?

"Oh, you're back, Peter? Did you get everyone home?" Harley greeted him, then noticed he was staring at her.

"Uh... What is it?"

"Nothing." Peter glanced at her flat chest and looked away. Probably not. After all, Thompson hadn't turned into a girl, and neither had Peter. Not everyone in this universe had switched sexes.

"Harley, your last name's Osborn, right?" he asked.

"Yeah...?" Harley suddenly felt nervous. Why would he bring that up now?

Was his attitude toward her about to change?

She knew Peter didn't have much money, but she genuinely considered him a close friend. Maybe she even hoped they could be more than friends.

Peter searched online and found photographs of a striking, long-haired woman with an elegant but icy expression. "Then Norma Osborn is your...?"

"My mother." Harley sounded displeased, not with Peter but with the name itself. "You know, Peter..."

"Come sit down first." Peter had an idea where this conversation was going. Harley was probably about to open up about her family again.

He'd already formed a few suspicions about her home life.

But once Harley sat down, she found she couldn't say much. Norma had hurt her too deeply. How could she explain the loneliness of living in that house with nobody who cared?

What could she say about a mother she saw only a handful of times a month, with whom she barely exchanged a few words? They were practically strangers.

The words caught in her throat. At last she managed, "Peter... Can you keep me company for a while?"

Peter's hand jerked as he poured a drink, nearly spilling it. He glanced at Harley and promptly scooted farther away on the couch.

Harley was already miserable. That movement ought to have made her feel even worse, but what he said next made her laugh despite herself.

"I'm not gay."

"Oh my God! You're asking to get punched!" Harley couldn't maintain her tragic mood. Laughing and protesting, she started swatting at him, and soon they were wrestling playfully on the sofa.

When she thought about it, the only advantage she had over Mary Jane or Gwen was money. There wasn't much else in her favor.

And she'd deliberately cut her hair short and dressed like a boy to defy her mother. If Peter had mistaken her for one, she couldn't exactly blame him.

Maybe being one of his best buddies wasn't such a bad role. If Peter ever got married, she might even be his best man.

"All right, Harley. Want to play video games? Go shoot some hoops? I'm up for whatever. There's a little basketball court downstairs. I'm not great at it, but we could ask Thompson to join us. Exercise might cheer you up."

"No, that's okay... Peter, is there anything you want?"

"Uh, what do you mean?"

"A present. Something like that."

"Probably, but my birthday has already passed."

"Then I'll get it for your next birthday. Just tell me what you'd like."