Returning to the hotel's room that Mr. Stark has paid for us, Peter and I are finally able to relax.

Sitting on the same bed for a couple of minutes, we let all the adrenaline of the past hours leave our systems, enjoining some minutes of simple idle reflections.

Wanting to know Peter's thoughts on our first fight against superhumans, I ask, "So what do you think, Pete? Was it fun to fight with the Avengers?"

Peter ponders for a couple of seconds before answering with a small smile on his lips, "Kind of, I mean we never fought a battle like that before. It was so cool."

"Peter Parker, who would have thought that you were a battle junkie," I answer, faking a shocked tone and covering my mouth like an 18th-century prude.

Sighing after hearing my stupid remark, Peter finally asks the question I knew he would ask, "Sig, do you want to talk about it?"

A blush appears on my face while I feign ignorance, "About what?"

"When you transformed, you lost control, right?" Asks Peter, worry evident on his serious face.

Knowing that I will gain nothing by lying, I answer with the truth, "Yes, I did. Thanks for stopping me, by the way."

A flash of joy appears on his face when I tank him before he asks again in a serious tone, "How did it work? I mean, you never fully turned into something like that."

"Well, until last week or something, I wasn't able to. Who would have thought that shifting like that would change the way my mind works?" I reply by asking a rhetorical question, trying to use humor instead of seriously reflect on the danger I caused.

Peter takes my reply at face value before a thought comes to his mind, making him ask a dreadful question, "Wait a minute, Sig, you tried something for the first time in the middle of a battle?"

"Maybe..." I say, fully conscious of how much I could have screwed up.

Sighing at my answer, Peter chooses to ask a question with a tired voice instead of rebuking me. "Sig, when will you learn to be more considerate?"

"Sorry..." I say with a trembling voice, depressed on the thought of having disappointed him.

"Don't worry. I lost any hope of you being the responsible one in this couple..." Peter replies before blushing, noticing what words he has used.

Surprised by his words, I forget any prior thoughts, focusing on what he said. "... Maybe I have misheard you, could you please repeat?" I ask, unsure of what my mind heard was the truth.

Blushing even more at my implications, he replies while stuttering a bit. "I said that I lost any hope of you being responsible..."

Not really caring about that part anymore, I stop him, "Other than that, it seemed to me that you referred to us as a couple."

An even more impressive blush appears on Peter's face before he starts stuttering an unbelievable answer, "...That's... because we are two people. Yes, we are two people, so it's easier to refer to us as a couple of people."

Seeing his deep blush and stuttering voice, the desire to tease him became preponderant in my mind. Unable to stop, I ask him, "Are you sure that there are no more reasons?"

Seeing my teasing face, Peter tries to maintain the what remains of his seriousness, asking back, "What other reasons could there be?"

Unwilling to back up now, I decide to move the conversation toward a discussion that it's time we have, "Like you want us to be more than simple friends..."

Hearing my words his blush deepens, turning his face crimson while he tries to answers between stutters. "Sig... We are both boys... We shouldn't..."

"I don't care. I like you..." I reply while moving in front of him, decided to hear his answer before our discussion ends.

Trying to look away from my eyes, he starts mumbling, "I know, you even have a body pillow made on my image."

"But I'll prefer the real one..." I say, unwilling to let him get away from this discussion.

Pondering on his words, Peter takes several seconds before finally saying what it's in his mind. "I don't know what to do. I like being with you a lot, but..."

"But?" I ask, elated and scared by his words.

"But I don't know if this means that I like you." Peter finally says, presenting a vulnerable expression, full of insecurity about us, and himself.

Seeing his face, I put my hand on him, waiting for a minute to let him calm down a bit.

Realizing that he has calmed enough for what I had in mind, I address Peter, "Well, we could try something..."

Unsure of my idea, he fixes his eyes on mine before asking, "What do you mean?"

"This." Taking my free hand to his nape, I slowly move, my blue eyes reflected in his hazel ones.

Moments ticks, long as hours, as my lips move to his, ready to taste the fruit I wanted for the last six months.

Our hot breaths intermingle, heating our lips an instant before they touch, while our eyes are still lost in each other.

My heart, beating at the speed of a hummingbird, seems slow at this moment. As time stretches, the feeling of his soft lips on mine occupies my mind, blanketing any possible thoughts.

It takes seconds for the kiss to end, seconds that seem as long as hours and that leave both of us painting, our eyes still fixed in the others, unwilling to break the link, scared it will break the moment's magic.

"So, how was it?" I ask after a couple of seconds of deep breaths, trying to calm my hammering heart.

"Strange," Peter replies while panting with his face ablaze.

"Strange? Like, strange but good, or strange, let's stop?" I ask, scared that he may not have enjoyed the kiss as I did.

My rising terror is promptly tamed, when Peter, unwilling to be always on the receiving end, kiss me back, recreating the previous magic, and cleansing my mind of all thoughts again.

"I'll take that as a sign that you liked it," I say after our kiss ends, overjoyed by his reaction.

"It is," he answers, blushing in front of my smile.

Unwilling to stop here, I push him down, leaving us splayed on the bed.

"Well, we are in Europe Pete, what do you think of taking something from the French culture?" I ask with a glint in my eyes, watching as Peter's face becomes of the same color as his mask.

"Ok, but nothing more than that, we are not ready..." Still hungry from our last interaction, Peter agrees to my suggestion while shooting down the possibility of doing something lewder.

Accepting his demands, I move on top of him, snuggling till I reach the best position to be able to kiss him. Slowly we start making out, shyly at first, exploring our mouths as the intensity of our kiss grows. Soon we are kissing like crazy. Like our lives depend on it.

My tongue slips inside his mouth, gentle but demanding, as I breathe him, lick him, eat him, drink him. Simultaneously, Peter brought his fingers up to my hair, unwilling to let me escape his honeyed tongue.

For what seemed like hours, we dueled with our tongues and lips, tasting, nibbling, and sucking, till we collapse, exhausted but full of joy.