6:45 PM, Evening.
Parker Household.
"Your meatloaf will get cold. Peter, what got you thinking that hard?" A concerned, feminine voice broke the silence in the dining room.
It was a woman in her late thirties, but she gave off the impression of being in her late twenties. She wore an orange top and stylish jeans that snugly fit her modestly curvy figure. Her beautiful face was framed by shoulder-length, wavy hair that smoothly cascaded down her shoulders. Her eyes were a deep shade of brown, reminiscent of an exquisitely brewed coffee.
Sitting across from her was a brown-eyed young man, Peter. His gaze was seemingly lost as he absentmindedly played around with the food on his plate.
"Nothing," Peter replied quickly, trying to shrug it off.
Aunt May narrowed her sharp gaze as she leaned forward. "I know a lie when I hear one. Your mind is light years away from here, young man."
She pointed her index finger at him, a helpless expression on her face. "Something bothering you. Didn't we promise to have no barriers between us?"
Peter stopped playing with his spoon and weakly shrugged, his gaze meeting May's.
"J-Just some troublesome school stuff. It's a scientific equation that I haven't been able to express accurately. It's driving me nuts." Peter sighed, the lie coming off as easy as breathing. Aunt May's vision wasn't great enough to notice the micro-twitching on the left corner of Peter's lips.
Aunt May cracked her mouth wide in surprise. "Oh. So it's the school that's stressing you?"
"I didn't expect that, considering how much of a brainiac you are." May exposed a small smile. "You remind me of your father. He used to space out during meals just like that."
A reminiscent look momentarily flashed in Peter's eyes when May mentioned the late Richard Parker, his father.
"Did he also like meatloaf?" Peter curiously asked as he finished the last piece of his meal.
"Nah, he was a Casseroles guy and liked a bit of homemade pot roast. Oh, and he also liked grilled barbecue." Aunt May playfully scrunched her nose as if she didn't want to recall those funny memories.
She then clasped her fingers under her small chin. "It's different from you, right?"
Peter lightly chuckled. "I probably should sample some of those. I've never tasted a well-done barbecue."
"I can do that for you. We have never gone out to enjoy ourselves for a while now. What do you think?" Aunt May donned a wide smile, excited by the idea.
"Y-Yeah. It's a good idea. But sadly, you rarely get the time from your busy work schedule," Peter commented.
Aunt May briefly closed her eyes. She perfectly understood Peter's concerns. She was struggling with her career.
She opened her eyes, a deep sigh escaping her lips. "I know. However, that's something for an adult like me to worry about, not you."
An unbelievable expression appeared on Peter's face. "Geez, I'm also a fully grown adult. Stop treating me like a kid."
"I currently have a well-paying job. You don't have to stress over those obligations. As an adult, I can also contribute and ease your worries."
Aunt May vehemently waved her index finger, invalidating Peter's points with that gesture. "Nope, no, no. Pete, you're still a kid in my eyes."
'How many times do I have to tell her I can help? Why is she always stubborn?' Peter wondered, slightly annoyed at being called a kid. Seeing no reason to start an insubstantial argument, Peter rose from his seat. There was somewhere he urgently needed to be.
"Thanks for the meal, aunt." Peter thanked her before taking all the dirty dishes on the table.
Aunt May scrunched her eyebrows in dissatisfaction. "For Christ's sake, just call me 'May', Pete. Do you normally take pride in making me feel old?"
Peter laughed over his shoulder as he escaped to the kitchen. 'But you are my aunt. What am I supposed to call you, hehe?'
A few seconds later, Peter returned to the dining room, only to find Aunt May menacingly glaring at him, cheeks puffed up like an angry panda.
He instinctively maintained a safe distance from her lest she jumped at him. Of course, she couldn't do that.
"Um, I'll be going now," Peter awkwardly said. That was one of the rare occasions he informed May he was going out. He couldn't outrightly tell her Spider-Man was going out at night to save New York. Aunt May still didn't know of his secret identity. He would only jeopardize her safety if she knew of his dangerous life.
"And where are you going, young man?" Aunt May asked in a no-nonsense tone.
"I'm staying up at Joe's place."
Hearing Joe's name, the frown on her face melted away almost immediately, replaced by a soft expression.
Peter almost rolled his eyes at the blatant differential treatment. However, he was happy that Joe's name somehow distracted his aunt's attention.
"J-Joe, how's he doing? It's been a long time since he visited us," May asked with interest as she shifted her posture. "A young millionaire's life must be so busy."
"Of course it is, and he works me to the bone. But he's doing fine. I'll be sure to pass along your greetings," Peter assured her with a slightly forced smile.
"Do just that, mister. Remember to tell him to come by when he is not busy. I have missed the boy for my own good."
Peter tightly pursed his lips, feeling uncomfortable talking about his friend. It was somewhat embarrassing for him.
"Okay, I won't forget. I'm heading out now," Peter replied hurriedly, grabbing his bag as he walked away.
"Don't you dare forget, Parker!"
"Jeez," Peter muttered as he closed the door behind him. He looked at his house for a moment, a troubled expression on his face. He loved Aunt May. However, he hated that he couldn't share some things with her. It was for the better.
He subtly smiled as he heard her still raving inside.
Aunt May could go crazy sometimes when she's interested in something. That extreme enthusiasm seemed to run pretty deep in the Parker bloodline.
After moving a few blocks away, Peter changed from his normal clothes, blending into the night as Spider-Man.
'I wonder what the dude is cooking right now. I hope nothing goes wrong, and he doesn't renege on his promise.'
Spider-Man was prepared for a big fight, but he couldn't shake that nervous feeling deep inside him.
Was everything going to go according to his thought-out plan of controlled violence and no killing?
Peter couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that Joe might not stick to the plan. He trusted him... but only up to a point.
Would there be anything unexpected?
Putting that aside, Peter couldn't help but be curious about Joe's powers and fighting style. It would be absurd if, one day, he found himself having to face Joe.
***
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[Word Count 1162]