The cold was seriously getting to you. Winter sucked, and you hated even being outside for a moment. It was pain in every bone of your body and aches in every muscle in your arms and legs. It was the fast chapping of your lips and the drying of your skin.

It was literal torture to walk home from school in it.

You had to stare at your boots to make sure they didn't walk across a patch of ice. The last thing you wanted was to slip and fall backwards and have a bunch of people step on you.

"Whoa - oof!"

Your head snapped to the left, to the alleyway filled with trash cans and plastic bags. You gasped as you saw arms flailing for a brief moment before they disappeared behind the dumpster.

Don't talk to strangers, you reminded yourself. Don't help anybody!

But he - whoever he was - grunted, and you couldn't help but worry. You hurried forward, not concerned about possibly slipping on ice as you walked around the dirty dumpster.

"Sir, are you-"

You gasped again.

"Peter Parker?"

Your eyes shifted from his wide brown eyes to his bare chest, and, even worse, the red and blue suit bunched up around his waist.

"Oh my gosh!" you cried, turning around, hands flying to your face. "Oh my gosh!"

"What are you doing!" he demanded, getting up from the pile of trash.

"What am I doing?" you asked. "What are you doing? You're freaking Spider-Man? And half naked! And I saw-" Your face burned. "Ugh, I hate my life."

He laughed. "I've heard you say that in English class," he said. "When we get homework.

You turned around, seeing him slip his arms into the skin tight suit. "I don't even talk to you in English," you said. It was true, you didn't. You mostly kept to yourself, and Peter Parker wasn't the kind of guy to press a conversation on you.

"I, uh, pay attention," he said.

"Um," you replied. "Okay?"

He sighed as he finished putting on his suit. He slipped on the mask and his face disappeared. Somehow it was harder to talk to him without seeing his eyes.

"You can't tell anyone," he said finally.

"I wasn't going to," you promised.

He nodded. "I'm serious. This could, like, ruin me, okay?"

"Okay, and I'm not going to tell, okay?" You gave him a serious look. "You have my word."

He nodded. "I trust you."

"I'm glad," you said. You stepped backwards and crossed your arms, suddenly very aware that you were standing in the middle of an alley with Spider-Man, who also happened to be Peter Parker, the nerd from your school.

"This is crazy," you said.

"You're telling me," he said, chuckling. He sounded so muffled inside of the suit. "I gotta go."

"Okay," you said. You nodded. "Good, because I'm cold." You shyly smiled and shivered slightly, as if to prove it. "I'll see you soon, yeah?"

"Yeah," he said. "A-At Flash's party, right?"

"Oh. Yeah." You grinned. "I'll be there."

"Cool! Maybe I'll see you," he said.

"Maybe," you agreed.

"And... maybe we can dance or, I mean, just hang out-" He moved his hands a lot as he spoke.

"Maybe," you agreed again. "Bye, Peter. Er, Spidey."

He laughed. "Bye, ____."

As you turned and walked out, the aches in your body weren't so prominent. Your rapidly beating heart took all of your attention.

...

Flash's party was crazy. People were literally stuffed inside of his perfectly decorated house, with sparkling white lights on pure white walls and cream colored furniture and light grey rugs. Christmas music blared, people dance and drank and ate cookies and pizza.

And you were lodged in one corner of the living room, clutching your phone like an anchor, pretending to check texts to avoid any glances that came your way.

You were a little disappointed and were about to call it quits. After an hour of observing, Peter still hadn't shown up, and, if you were honest with yourself, that was the whole reason you had come.

In fact, Peter had been on your mind a lot lately.

You tapped your foot to the sound of Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree and sipped your Coke. You were debating with yourself on whether or not to wander across the living room and into the kitchen to snag a plate of cookies. It would be a long walk...

"Hey, Parker, nice sweater!" Flash yelled.

After a chorus of laughter erupted, you looked up to the entrance of the living room, where Peter stood in the most ugly Christmas sweater you had ever seen. But he looked cute. His soft brown curls were dotted with snowflakes from outside. His cheeks were rosy. His smile was stretching as he found you and stared-

And then you were walking forward, ditching your Coke on a table. You smiled at him, approaching slow, feeling the loud music thrum into your fingertips, the song ironically switching to a romantic Christmas song.

Just as you stopped in front of him and opened your mouth to speak, Flash opened his big mouth.

"Oh look, Parker and ___ are under the mistletoe!" he yelled.

You looked up fast. Sure enough, a cluster of white berries and green leaves was taped to the arch of the doorway. You glanced back down at Peter, looking panicked as you heard laughter, fearing that he would walk away or say no way-

But he smiled again.

He stepped closer. His chest bumped yours.

Your hands fell to your sides and he lifted his to touch you. He gave you a look that asked if it was okay.

You nodded, cheeks burning.

"I trust you," you said, echoing his words from the alley.

He didn't speak, but he nodded. His hands touched your waist and he leaned in, his lips moving before touching yours, his hands pulling you in.

If your heart was rapidly beating before, it was out of control now. You feared that any second it would send you soaring into the air or make you just explode.

But you remained there, in Peter Parker's hold, kissing him.

And it just felt perfect.