Prompt: “Peter tries to get you to go on a a date with him.”
A/N: Reader and Peter are both about 16 in this, so school age.
You were sitting in science class, tapping your feet to the rhythm of the Rush song you were listening to just before class had begun. Your teacher, Professor McCoy, droned on and on about particles or whatever, while you zoned out staring out at the rolling green estate outside the window. Oh, how you wished you were out there right now.
You jumped when you felt someone quickly tap you on the shoulder from behind. When Professor McCoy was talking to the other side of the room, you looked behind you to see the familiar silver haired boy, Peter, leaning over his desk.
“Hey, you’re looking extra beautiful today,” he said, smiling flirtatiously. You rolled your eyes. He’d been flirting you for a while now, ever since he found out you were a fellow rock fan. You secretly liked him back, but had turned him down whenever he asked you out due to never actually having gone on a date before.
“Why won’t you go out with me? I’m I doing something?” He asked, breaking into your thoughts.
“No,” you whispered back. You glanced over at Professor McCoy to see him start to walk back across the room.
“Then what is it? I promise I wouldn’t hurt you or anything,” Peter said. You sighed. “I know. It’s just-”
“Y/N and Peter, pay attention please,” Professor McCoy said sternly, causing you to give Peter an apologetic look before turning back around. Peter was silent for a couple seconds before leaning forward again.
“I get it if you don’t want to, I’ll stop bothering you,” Peter said.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you began. But for the second time, Professor McCoy interrupted your conversation with the speedster
“Y/N and Peter. One more time and I’ll give you detention,” Professor McCoy warned. You nodded, waiting for him to turn away. You swiftly turned around.
“I’ll tell you after class,” you whispered.
“Okay,” Peter relented, sitting back in his chair. You breathed a sigh of relief, turning back to watch Professor McCoy write something on the board. You felt a little nervous, though. What would you tell Peter? You couldn’t tell him that you’d never had a boyfriend before.
“I won’t judge you, whatever it is,” Peter suddenly said. You jumped, knocking your leg into your desk, rattling your pencil. Professor McCoy looked up to see Peter whispering in your ear yet again. Professor McCoy sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Detention, both of you,” he said. You ran a hand through your hair. Great. After class, you and Peter stayed behind. This being your last class of the day, your detention would take place right away.
“Scrub the board, then I want you washing out all of the beakers in the sink. With soap,” Professor McCoy instructed. You nodded diligently, immediately heading over to the lab sink by the window. Professor McCoy picked up some papers and his briefcase. “Don’t goof off or pretend to do the work. I’ll know.“
You promised you’d do the work, Professor McCoy leaving you and Peter alone in the room. As soon as Professor McCoy disappeared out the door, Peter sauntered over to you, a couple beakers in his hand.
“So… It’s after class,” Peter prodded. You took the beakers from him, filling the sink with water and soap.
“It is after class, smart of you to notice,” you said sarcastically, trying to avoid the question you knew he was going to ask.
“You promised you’d tell me why you won’t go out with me,” Peter said. He leaned against the window frame next to the sink. You plunged the beakers into the soapy water, scrubbing with a sponge to get the grime off.
“I know,” you said slowly. “I want to go out with you, it’s just that…” You swallowed nervously, setting one of the beakers on a rack to dry. You looked down at the soapy water, your hands clenched on the side of the sink. “I’ve just never gone on a date before,” you said finally, waiting for Peter’s reaction.
“Oh, that’s perfectly okay.”
You looked up at Peter, surprised. All of the other boys who you’d told you’d never dated anyone had teased you or called you a prude.
“I mean, I wouldn’t judge you for that,” Peter continued, going to get more beakers. “Besides, this just means I’ll have to make this date as special as possible.”
“Okay,” you relented, pressing your lips together. “I’ll go out with you.”
“Yes!” Peter dropped the beakers into the water. “You won’t regret it.“
You smiled at the excited silver-haired boy. "I know I won’t.”